#warning the script is very fucking long

[thewhizzyhead]

hi its me so back when wattblr was at its peak (2020), watt basically gave me a drug that made me really fuckin creative and want to do a bajillion musicals. 4 years later, warriors has now force-fed me this drug again. Welcome back to me being annoying as fuck woo here's the Izzy Original Rambly Musical Masterlist - Part 1

+ Misfits - been developing this SINCE I WAS 13 and um its Basically A Show Within A Show idea inspired by my past experiences with my former church and their Christmas musicals. TO UNDERSTAND THIS HERE IS SOME BACKSTORY: so when I was 10-13 I used to be in Christmas musicals staged by my sunday school. These musicals were Pilipino translations (the songs stayed English) of Typical American Children Christmas Musicals found on youtube (check out A Rocking Royal Christmas on YouTube yes we did a Filipino translation of that and I played the narrator when I was 11 I'm not kidding). When I was 13, I wanted to make something more resonant to the teen crowd as um to be quite honest the stuff my fellow Sunday school people were going through were Fucking Heavy and i wanted to feature that + I always knew that the Very Kiddy Musicals we set up were mainly a show for the parents and all that. I wanted a message of faith that actually resonated with my age group - and i developed it far enough that at 14, i was commisioned by my sunday school teachers to work with the church's orchestra in actually having this developed! But 15 happened and I started questioning a lot of the stuff my Sunday school and church does in terms of like politics, mental health stuff, sexuality and identity and pressuring me and my fellow teens to become something we were not, and it really felt alienating, almost as if I was simply putting on a show to appease all those that look to me and want me to be the Best of Young Christian Soldiers

So the concept of Misfits is um okay just read this ramble i wrote 3 years ago that is MUCH MORE COHERENT AND COHESIVE than the descriptions ive been whipping up for three hours now:

There is more to this like I have been developing this for 7 years now and there IS A TRACKLIST and each character has a storyline and a certain dynamic with all of the characters - like all are connected one way or another - but the basic gist is:

1.) The Narrators Put On A Show For The Religious Audience, then Start Crumbling at The Questions Presented and Prompted by The Misfits, but also Upon The Realization Of How Much Pressure They Are Under in Supporting A Narrative They Are Conditioned To Unquestionably Trust + the reveal of the secrets they hide and deny about themselves in order to seem as the Perfect Model Christian (sexuality, mental health issues, parental/pastoral pressures, abuse, psychological trauma as a result of Putting On The Show - the Time Travel element is not just there for the purposes of the show, it has a very important plot element too that connects the leader of the Narrators with the defacto leader of the Misfits) + how do they deal with these secrets being slowly revealed when They Know They Are Being Watched

2.) The Misfits Try To Navigate The Strange Musical Scenario and Why The Narrators Seem Preachy, While Also Being Forced to Address Their Pasts and Presents on why They Are Deemed "Misfits" in the First Place (outside of Christian conservatism, there exists undeniable concern for the wellbeing of the "Misfits" aka juvenile delinquency and poverty, mental health issues, and um the defacto leader being a Former Member of the Narrators wHICH WILL BECOME THE RUNNING THREAD TO THE PLOT TWIST which is why they were chosen in the first place), so basically The Misfits Are Challenged to Acknowledged that They Are Indeed Troubled (especially with carefully planted plot points and script prompts used by the Narrators to have these in the open) - but the original Producers Approved plotline has them Turn Back To God, but how can they do so if the problems they face are rooted in the current religious institutions in place? That is the question presented by the Misfits to the Narrators - which is what causes their show to fall apart

3.) Through Questioning The Mission They Were Given and the Environments That Mandate Them To Do So Despite Their Own Struggles (Narrators), and Through Questioning Themselves, Their Struggle, and The Acknowledgment That They Do Need Help (Misfits), the two groups face what I want to be the ultimate thesis question of the musical: when you grow up, where does one find hope? This is my attempt at breaking down the concept of religion because ultimately, people look to a higher figure in the dream of hope and the want for answers - thus, religion cannot ultimately be taken away from people who truly want and seek it. But we gotta deconstruct the narrative that hope is only limited to these religious institutions - and criticism must be relayed to the institutions that mandate that people serve them for the hope they supposedly provide but subsequently break because of prejudice, conservatism, and close-mindedness towards the people the Bible says to serve above all.

So yea the thesis slogan is basically: grow as you go, redefine your mission, and break the script if needed be.

Also it's pop rock, very inspired by SPRING AWAKENING, we are the tigers, and a dash or rent. The songs are English when They Are Part of the Producer's script, and Tagalog when They Are Not Part of the Script (like the characters being honest or unexpected rebuttals to the narrators' preaching moments or when the narrators themselves reveal their secrets). Otherwise, dialogue is taglish YAY

[binders-and-beanies]

.

[greengoblinswifey]

Moth to a Flame- Nicholas Chavez x Actress!Reader

summary— you find yourself entangled with your co-star, Nicholas Chavez, despite being in a committed relationship. The chemistry between you ignites on and off set and the lines blur, leading to a heated affair.

warnings— fingering, daddy kink, unprotected sex, creampie, oral, cheating(reader does), praise kink, degrading kink, not proofread i fear.

a/n: this is long asf but you’ll love it, read while listening to Moth to a Flame by The. Weeknd <3

On set, the tension was palpable. The cameras were rolling for season two of the show where Nicholas and you, as the main characters, were set to film an intense love scene. The script called for his character to finally confess his desire for you, despite your on-screen character’s relationship with someone else. Ironically, it wasn’t just the characters who were tangled up in complicated feelings. In real life, you and Nicholas had crossed the same line, and it made filming the scene that much more real.

Your boyfriend, Cody, who had always been a bit uneasy about you acting alongside Nicholas, was on set that day, watching the scene unfold. The moment Nicholas delivered his line with intense conviction- “I want you, fuck your boyfriend,” It was almost like a direct hit to Cody in real life. His fists clenched, and you could feel the heat of his glare even from where you stood.

The scene continued, Nicholas's hands on your waist, pulling you close as you kissed for the first time this season. The chemistry between you both was undeniable on and off and that only seemed to infuriate your boyfriend further. Before the director could call “cut,” Cody stormed forward, clearly upset.

“Cut!” the director yelled, trying to defuse the situation. You hurried over to him, placing a hand on his chest to calm him down.

“Listen, babe, take a breather, okay? We have to do this scene. It’s just acting,” you whispered, trying to soothe his frustration. You could feel Nicholas' eyes on you from across the set, jaw clenched in irritation. He hated seeing Cody upset, especially when it came to you which was very common.

“I don’t like it,” Cody muttered, his voice low. “The way he looks at you, the way you two are-”

“Go take a walk through the city, clear your head," you interrupted softly, trying to stay professional even though the tension was real. “It’s part of the job, okay? We’re gonna take a break.”

He hesitated, his eyes darting between you and Nicholas. But eventually, after a few tense moments, he gave in and turned to leave, though not without a frustrated huff. The moment he was out of earshot, you sighed, running a hand through your braids.

Nicholas approached you, his eyes dark with a mix of desire and irritation. “You okay?” he asked, though his gaze flickered toward where Cody had disappeared.

You nodded, but inside, the emotions were swirling. You were cheating on your boyfriend in the show, but the real betrayal lingered in the air, just beneath the surface.

In the next scene, the tension was still hanging in the air, and the director decided it was best to take a break. “Alright, we’re gonna pause here,” he announced. “Everyone take ten, grab some snacks, get some air. We’ll continue filming once we’re all settled again.”

You nodded, eager for a moment to escape the tension between your boyfriend and Nicholas on set. Heading back to your trailer, you sank onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling while sipping on coffee. Your mind raced, replaying the scene that had just unfolded. You had been thinking about leaving Cody for a while now, but his overbearing presence made it hard. You feared what he might do if you walked away. And then, of course, there was the media, always watching.

As you lay there, lost in thought, a knock sounded at your door. You assumed it was Cody, needing to cool off after his earlier outburst. Without even looking, you called out, “Cody, just take a walk. You need to cool off.”

The door opened, but instead of Cody’s familiar presence, it was Nicholas who stepped in. You sat up on the bed, surprised. “Oh, Hey,” you muttered, sitting up straighter as he walked towards you.

“Everything alright?” he asked, his voice low and concerned. He studied your face closely, his eyes filled with genuine care. You tried to give a nonchalant smile, nodding.

“I’m fine,” you lied, though it was obvious you weren’t. Nicholas’ gaze flickered from your brown eyes down to your lips, then back up again. He stepped closer, the space between you shrinking until there was barely any distance at all.

You both were inching toward each other, your breath mingling as the attraction that had been building between you two, both on and off screen, reached its breaking point for the hundredth time. Before you could think, his lips were on yours. The kiss was slow and tender at first, but then his hands moved up to cup your breasts, sending sparks through you.

You pulled away, breathless, your heart pounding. “What if Cody comes back? What if he sees us?” you whispered, half in fear, half in excitement.

Nicholas, with a wicked grin, leaned in closer, his voice a deep rasp. “Let him see. Let him see me make you feel good, in a way he never can.”

The room felt hot, the air thick with desire. Nicholas stood up and crossed the room to lock the door. The click of the lock made your pulse race. Then, without hesitation, he took off his shirt, revealing his muscular chest and defined abs. He looked absolutely irresistible, his body chiseled and perfect.

You couldn’t stop staring, practically drooling at how unbelievably hot he was. And as he stood there, looking down at you with smoldering eyes, you realized just how powerless you were to resist him any longer.

The tension in the trailer was thick, the heat between you and Nicholas undeniable. You wanted more of him, but the looming threat of Cody returning, or the director calling everyone back to set, weighed on your mind. Despite that, your body ached for his touch, and you couldn’t resist as he sat beside you, his lips crashing back onto yours.

The kiss deepened, your moans of his name slipping past your lips as he whispered against your skin, “I love when you moan my name.” His eyes darkened with desire as he added, “I hope that whenever Cody fucks you, you’re thinking of me.”

Your breath hitched as his mouth trailed lower, his hands already tugging at the low-cut top you wore. His lips found your breasts, his mouth warm as he sucked on your skin, sending waves of pleasure through you. “Nicholas,” you moaned, trying to stop him before he left any visible marks. “No hickeys, please-”

But he didn’t listen. He left two dark hickeys on your breasts, smirking as he pulled away to admire his work. “I hope when he takes off your clothes, he sees these,” he murmured, his voice low and possessive. “He’ll know you belong to someone else. To me.”

You shivered as his hands trailed down to your skirt, slipping underneath to find your lacy panties. His fingers rubbed you through the thin fabric, and you were already soaked. A soft moan escaped your lips as your hips lifted into his touch, begging for more.

“Does this turn you on?” Nicholas asked, slipping a finger past your panties and into your heat, teasing you. “Cheating on that little boy?” He held your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him as he asked again. “Do I turn you on?”

You nodded frantically, biting your lip before whispering, “Yes Daddy, you do.”

He grinned, sliding another finger inside you, his thumb rubbing your clit in slow, agonizing circles. You gasped, arching your back off the bed as the pleasure built inside you. “Such a good girl,” he murmured against your lips, kissing you deeply to muffle your moans. His lips moved to your neck, placing soft kisses there as he praised you. “You’re taking my fingers so well, you’re so wet, soaking my hand.”

Your breath came in ragged pants, your body trembling as the pleasure became overwhelming. He pulled his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean with a smirk. Then he leaned down and kissed you again, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

He didn’t stop there. His fingers returned to your heat, sliding in and out as his mouth found your breasts again, sucking and teasing your sensitive skin. His thumb rubbed tight circles on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

It wasn’t long before your body gave in. You came hard around his fingers, your moans muffled by his lips as he kissed you through it. “That’s it, baby,” he whispered, his voice filled with pride. “Such a good girl for Daddy, coming on my fingers like that. That’s my girl.”

He kept fingering you gently, easing you down from your high, until you were breathless and shaking beneath him.

Without a word, you slid down the bed, pulling at Nicholas’s pants with urgency. His eyes had been locked on you, heavy with lust, and when you finally freed his hard cock, you were mesmerized by how perfect it looked, thick, long and pretty with a pink tip. You wasted no time, taking him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around him as a deep moan escaped his lips.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head falling back as you worked your tongue along his shaft. “You’re such a good girl, feels so good.”

You started teasing him, your mouth moving slowly, hands caressing his balls, but the teasing hadn’t lasted long. Nicholas grabbed your braids, gently tugging your head forward. “Suck my cock,” he demanded, his voice low and rough. “No teasing.”

You obeyed, taking him deeper, your mouth moving faster as you pleased him just the way he liked. His hands guided your movements, and his moans filled the air, telling you how perfect you were, how no one could ever make him feel like this. “You’re too good for him,” he said through gritted teeth, his breath ragged. “You belong to me, no matter who you’re with.”

The words sent a shiver through you, and you moaned around him, sending vibrations along his length. He gasped, tightening his grip on your hair. “Does he know you call me when he sleeps? Does he know where your heart lies?”

You couldn’t respond, your mouth full of him, but the moans you let out told him everything. You took him deeper, gagging slightly as he hit the back of your throat, and he cursed under his breath, his abs tightening.

“I’m gonna cum,” he warned, his voice strained. “I’m gonna cum in your mouth.”

You nodded eagerly, quickening your pace, and your hands massaged his balls as you took him as deep as you could. It only took a few more strokes before his hips jerked, and with a groan, he spilled into your mouth. His head fell back, and he moaned, “Such a good girl, my good girl. You did so good for me. You sucked my cock so well.”

You swallowed everything, licking him clean before pulling away, looking up at him as he watched you with hooded eyes.

Nicholas pulled you up from the bed, guiding you into his arms as your lips met in a soft kiss. His touch was gentle now, and as you nestled against his chest, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. His hand found its way to your hair, stroking it soothingly while you relaxed in his embrace.

“I don’t want to do this forever,” you murmured softly, your voice tinged with the weight of your emotions. The tension of sneaking around and the complications with Cody weighed heavily on your mind.

Nicholas held you tighter, understanding the unspoken struggle. “We’ll figure it out,” he whispered, kissing your forehead.

Before either of you could say more, there was a sharp knock on the trailer door. “Filming’s starting again in five!” the director called from outside.

You sighed, pulling yourself from the warmth of Nicholas’s embrace. “I guess it’s time,” you said with a small, reluctant smile.

You quickly washed your mouth in the small sink, your mind already shifting back to the scene you had to film. Nicholas lingered for a moment, waiting for you to finish before stepping to the side to give you space. He couldn’t come out with you immediately, it would look suspicious, so he stayed behind, allowing you to exit first.

When you stepped back on set, Cody was already there, his eyes burning as he watched you. He hadn’t said anything yet, but you could feel the tension radiating from him, as though he suspected something. Nicholas emerged a minute later, casually strolling back to his mark, though you could see the edge in his expression as his gaze briefly flickered over to your boyfriend.

It was time to get back into character, but the lines between fiction and reality were blurring more than ever. Cody’s stare bore into you as if daring you to give something away, while Nicholas stood close, his jaw clenched, waiting for the scene to unfold.

The director called out, “Action!” and the scene picked up exactly where they left off. Nicholas, fully in character, glared at you with fiery intensity as he delivered his line, “I want you. Fuck your boyfriend.”

Before you could respond, he grabbed you, pulling you into a kiss that was far more heated than the script required. His hands roamed your body, squeezing your waist and chest, his presence dominating the moment. The kiss deepened, and as he moved you onto the bed, it felt as though the lines between acting and reality blurred. He seemed to glance over toward Cody, who was watching from behind the camera, but it was hard to tell if it was intentional or not.

“Cut!” the director shouted, stepping forward with a smile. “That was flawless, great job you two.”

Nicholas's lips were still hovering over yours, your breaths mingling as you both panted from the intensity of the scene. His hands stayed on your body just a little longer than necessary, and Cody’s eyes burned with suspicion from across the set. It was as though he could feel something was off, but he said nothing.

Later, the day’s filming wrapped, and everyone was heading back to the hotel. You, Nicholas, and Cody were all staying in the same hotel, which only added to the tension. In your shared room with your boyfriend, his agitation was evident. He was pacing, his expression dark and frustrated.

“What was that today?” he demanded, his tone sharp. “The way you two were all over each other. It didn’t look like acting.”

You sighed, trying to remain calm. “It was nothing, Cody. We were just doing the scene, it’s literally just acting. I don’t know what you’re talking about”

He wasn’t convinced. His eyes narrowed as he stepped closer to you, scrutinizing every word that left your lips. “You sure about that?” he asked. “Because it didn’t look like nothing from where I was standing.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, you stepped away from him, shaking your head. “I’m not doing this,” you said, your voice steady. “I’m not about to argue with you over my job. You chose to be there.”

Cody’s face softened as he realized he was pushing too hard. “I’m sorry,” he said, trying to approach you again. “I just, I don’t know. I didn’t mean to make it a thing.”

But you were done with the conversation. “I don’t want to hear it, Cody.” The words were final, your back turned to him as you tried to distance yourself from the situation. Frustrated, his voice snapped at you, but then he stopped himself, muttering another apology. He moved closer, pressing his lips to your neck in a gesture meant to calm the tension. But as his lips touched your skin, you found yourself closing your eyes, not thinking of him, but of Nicholas, the way his hands had held you, the way his lips had lingered on your neck during filming and outside of it.

Cody’s hands slid down, trying to pull at your clothes, his fingers tugging at the hem of your top, but you stopped him before he could pull it off. The memory of the hickeys Nicholas had left on your chest flashed in your mind.

“I- I don’t want to have sex tonight,” you said abruptly, pulling away from his touch.

His frustration was immediate. He huffed and stormed toward the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. You could hear the water running. He couldn’t understand why things had suddenly shifted, why the desire had waned on your end. But deep down, you knew.

You knew you’d much rather Nicholas be the one to kiss your neck, pull down your top and take you right then and there. You were aching for him, dripping with arousal. You were determined to get a piece of him later that night when your boyfriend was asleep or hopefully out getting drunk.

As the night wore on, you waited for Cody to finish in the bathroom. You laid in bed, pretending to sleep, watching him through half-lidded eyes as he finally crawled in beside you, exhausted and oblivious. Once you were sure he was deeply asleep, you carefully slid out of bed. To test, you flicked your finger against his forehead, smiling slightly when he didn’t stir.

Moving quietly, you slipped into the bathroom and began your nightly routine, washing your face and applying your skincare and makeup. The rush of anticipation built with every step. You picked up the red lingerie, skimpy and barely there, hugging you in all the right places, and slid it on, admiring how it clung to your body in the mirror. Then, you wrapped yourself in a trench coat, keeping the surprise hidden.

With one last glance at your boyfriend, who remained fast asleep, you grabbed your phone and texted Nicholas. “Is your door open?”

His reply came quickly. “It’s open, princess.”

Your heart raced as you made your way down the hall, the soft click of your heels barely audible. Reaching Nicholas’ room, you opened the door slightly, peeking in before stepping inside. Nicholas was standing there, eyes darkening with hunger the moment he saw you in the trench coat. He crossed the room, meeting you at the door, gaze fixed on you.

Without saying a word, you undid the knot of your trench coat and let it fall to the floor. The red lingerie you wore underneath left nothing to the imagination. His breath caught as he took in the sight of you. “You look so sexy for Daddy,” he murmured, voice thick with desire.

Before you could respond, Nicholas pressed you against the door, his lips trailing down your neck as his hands found your breasts. You moaned softly, hands tangling in his hair, feeling the intensity of his need. He squeezed your breasts, murmuring, “You’re mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy," you breathed, arching into him, “I’m all yours.”

His smirk deepened, his lips claiming yours as he pulled you even closer, his hands exploring every inch of you.

He lifted you effortlessly, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around him, grinding against the hardness pressing into you. His hands gripped your thighs as he carried you to the bed, laying you down gently before pulling his shirt over his head. You watched, breathless, as he slid his boxers off, his thick cock already hard and leaking, the tip glistening with precum.

Hovering over you, he began rubbing himself along your soaked entrance, teasing, dragging his length up and down your slick folds. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, voice husky as his eyes took in the sight of you beneath him.

“Just fuck me, Daddy,” you begged, voice desperate and needy.

Nicholas smiled, a dark gleam in his eyes as he reached for the straps of your lingerie and slowly pulled it off, baring your body to him completely. He kissed down your body, leaving a trail of heat in his wake until his mouth found your pussy. His tongue flicked against your clit, and you moaned loudly, gripping the sheets as pleasure rolled through you. He devoured you, lapping at your wetness, the sensations building and building until you were on the edge, so close to coming.

But just as you were about to let go, he pulled away, leaving you panting and needy. “I want you to come around me,” he said, his voice filled with desire. He reached for a condom from the nightstand.

“No condom this time,” you interrupted, breathless but firm. “I want to feel all of you. I want you to cum inside me.”

Nicholas’ eyes flashed with something primal, his lips curling into a smirk. He tossed the condom aside and positioned himself between your legs, rubbing his cock against your entrance, teasing you again. “You sure?” he asked, voice low and commanding.

“I’m ready,” you whispered, nodding, “I want it all.”

With a groan of satisfaction, he pressed his thick cock inside you, filling you inch by inch. You gasped as he stretched you, the feeling of him raw inside you sending waves of pleasure through your entire body. Nicholas began to thrust, slow and deep at first, driving you both wild.

As the heat between you intensified, you felt an electric thrill run through your body, urging you to crave more of him. “Daddy,” you breathed, your voice a sultry whisper, “I want more.”

With that invitation, he increased the pace, thrusting harder and deeper. The headboard creaked under the pressure, the whole floor probably heard, your nails dug into his back, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You were lost in the rhythm, your breath quickening, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You wrapped your legs around him tightly for a moment, pulling him closer before releasing them, spreading wider to accommodate him. The shift allowed him to plunge deeper, each stroke igniting a raw, primal desire within you. You gasped, the sensation overwhelming, and you met his movements with your own, pushing back against him as he filled you completely.

“Just like that daddy,” you urged, your voice thick with passion.

He picked up the pace, his thrusts hard and relentless, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. Just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he pulled back slightly, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His voice was a low as he murmured against your mouth, “You’re all mine. You belong to Daddy now, you always have.”

A shiver of excitement raced through you, and he continued, “I want to hear you say it.”

“I’m all yours, Daddy,” you said, the words flowing from your lips as if they were the only truth that mattered.

“Whose pussy is this?” he asked, his tone commanding, eyes locked onto yours.

“Yours, Daddy. It’s all yours,” you replied, the thrill of submission making your heart race.

“Good girl,” he said, a satisfied smirk across his lips. “That’s my good girl.”

With renewed intensity, he rolled his hips beautifully against yours, the connection between you both electric. “I want you to cum all over my dick, raw, for the first time,” he urged, his voice thick with desire.

The feeling of him pushing deeper ignited a fire within you, building to a peak you couldn't hold back. With a gasp, your body responded to his words, pleasure washing over you in waves as you squirted, soaking him completely.

Nicholas groaned in response, his grip on you tightening as he felt the warmth of your release.

“That’s so hot baby, that turned you on huh,” he said, now chasing his own orgasm as your body lay shaking underneath him.

“Y-yes daddy,” you sobbed and he grinned, his pretty white teeth glistening.

“You soaked me baby, squirting on me like that, being a cheating slut turns you on?” His pace never let up but this time, he reached between your bodies and began rubbing your clit sending a pleasure you almost couldn’t take rushing through your writhing body.

A scream left your lips as you creamed and squirted again all over his cock, and he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fucking hell baby,” he moaned and you felt his hot cum spurt inside of you. He continued thrusting gently, the pace almost loving as he allowed your grip to milk him of every drop.

Now a panting mess, he fell beside you and turned to face you. Your leg was draped across his heaving body and you stared at his beautiful disbelieved figure as he opened his mouth to speak.

“You’re going to be the death of me baby.”

[eddiesghxst]

LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACCIÓN - AN EDDIE MUNSON X READER AU

credit for cute lil cut off divider: @cafekitsune

————

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: eddie munson x pornstar!reader

summary: eddie is short on rent this month and needs quick cash, luckily he stumbles upon an ad for casting in an adult film and finds himself shooting a porno with you

contains: strangers to lovers trope, drug and alcohol use, mentions of smoking, awkward situations, oral (f and m receiving), p in v (unprotected — be safe pls), mentions of people being judgemental of readers line of work, mentions of anal, slightly exhibitionism, lots of smut, a sliver of mechanic!eddie, and eddie being the charming loser he's always been <3

word count: 13.5k (i am so fucking sorry omg)

-masterlist-

Eddie might be way in over his head.

Eddie’s been naked in front of groups of people before (the high school boy's locker room is a scary place to be, honestly), but never in those awful days of forced physical education was Eddie’s dick the center of everyone’s attention.

It’s weird, no doubt about it, standing at the front of a conference room with a table full of producers and writers and whatnot just… ogling Eddie’s naked frame.

“Can you lift your dick, please? So we can see your balls.”

Yeah. This is definitely going at the top of Eddie’s ‘weird things I’ve done for money’ list.

Still, Eddie reaches down and presses his dick up against his lower stomach to give his audience an unrestricted view of his balls.

Jesus.

“Okay, you can put your clothes back on.”

Honestly, Eddie wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for Robert, the manager at Eddie’s job— well, old job. 

Robert had some kind of weird fucking vengeance out for Eddie. Maybe it was because Eddie came back high from, like, most of his lunch breaks, but should that really matter if Eddie still got the job done? How coherent do you have to be to organize music records by name? Not very fuckin’ much.

Robert disagreed, though, so he fired Eddie.

Robert was an asshole, though, and whenever Eddie would nicely warn him, ‘Hey, Rob, I’m gonna be out of town next Saturday,’ Robert would still fucking schedule him to close on that exact day! 

Good riddance.

Except now, Eddie’s short on rent for the month, which is why he’s found himself standing fully naked in a room full of adult filmmakers.

Eddie’s almost dropped out of this deal ten times by now. He wasn’t sure if he was keen on the idea of his bare, naked body being out for the entire world and future generations to see. But then Eddie thought about it, and, well, he’s got a pretty decent cock. It’s an average size, and it’s not weird looking or anything, and his balls don’t sag— and, like, isn’t his dick primarily the star of the show? Eddie Jr. could pass for a star, Eddie thinks, and so do the people looking at it right now. 

And he also really fucking needs the money, so. Porn it is.

Whatever.

Eddie could deal with it as long as he gets enough money to keep a roof over his head. Which reminds him— “Hey, uh, how much will I be getting paid, by the way?”

Eddie’s now fully clothed, car keys in hand, and ready to go now that he’s been dismissed, and he’s scratching the back of his neck as he waits for an answer.

One of the men at the table (Eddie thinks his name is Brian, but he’s not 100% sure) glances up at Eddie from the pile of papers he’d been sorting through, “Eight hundred for the booking and ten percent from the sales.”

Which, yeah, that covers Eddie’s rent. It also leaves a little bit of change in Eddie’s pocket, so “Sweet.” Eddie nods.

So, Eddie follows one of the assistants to her office, where she hands Eddie a file with the word SCRIPT written in bold and red letters, “Read over it, practice the lines a few times, do whatever you need to do to prepare for Friday.” She kindly smiles.

She’s sweet. Short, stout, and pretty, and she has these cute glasses that remind Eddie of a ladybug. Eddie takes the manila folder, bowing his head with a cheesy smile, “Thank you, Emily.” 

“So, will I be getting a costume? Do pornos still have those dramatic plots with, like, pirates and shit?” Eddie rambles as he cracks the folder open to take a gander.

Emily snorts, “Sure, but unfortunately, you’re not a pirate for this one,” Eddie glances at her and dramatically pouts, “You will be taking on the role of a neighbor. Pretty simple and easy, not much setup needed, but I’m sure you’ll see that when you read over the script.”

Eddie looked over the script as soon as he got in his van, and Emily was right: there’s not much setup at all. There’s a few cheesy lines, cliche porno shit that definitely gets skipped over, and then they go straight to fucking. Eddie tries to run his lines a few times, but then he fails miserably, so he ends up tossing the script in his passenger seat and making a mental note to look at it later.

How hard can it be?

Apparently pretty fucking hard.

It’s Friday, and Eddie’s a chaotic mess as he walks in through the doors of the film studio. He’d just spent the last 30 minutes in his van trying to practice his lines, but Eddie was never the greatest theater kid, and the lines wouldn’t stick, so he ended up smoking a joint to ease his nerves.

People are bustling around the room, calling out orders and setting up lights, mics, furniture— the whole mile. It’s an entire ordeal that Eddie has walked into, and for a second, Eddie forgets that he’s one of the actual stars when someone walks up to him and says, “You're the new talent?”

“Huh?”

“New talent. Are you the guy we’re filming today?”

Eddie glances around and catches a glimpse of a half-naked girl eyeing him from across the room as a lady fixes her hair for the cameraman. She’s pretty. Gorgeous, actually. Nice body and soft-looking skin that Eddie would like to sink his teeth into and leave pretty little marks.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m Eddie.”

“Good. You’re late.”

Shit. Eddie must’ve lost track of time while practically hacking up a lung in his hotboxed van.

The person drags Eddie to a vanity and nudges him toward the high chair, “You’ll get your hair and makeup done, then we should be rolling in about half an hour.” 

It’s jarring, really, seeing the amount of work that goes into the shitty raunchy films Eddie jacks off to, but it’s captivating nonetheless. Eddie can see the movement behind him through the vanity mirror, but he’s more focused on the pretty girl still posing for the camera. If that’s the girl Eddie will be working with, then this will be way easier than Eddie thought it would be because he’s already getting hard. Some might call it pathetic, but oh well.

“Hiya, hon! You the new talent?” A chirpy girl walks up behind Eddie, pearly white teeth and glossed lips working in tandem as she chews her gum and blows a quick bubble. She doesn’t wait for Eddie’s response as she digs her fingers into Eddie’s curly strands, tossing and gently pulling them about to see what she’s working with. 

Her name is Nicki. She’s friendly and very talkative; Eddie comes to learn, because for the majority of the time that she’s working on Eddie’s hair, her mouth is running nonstop. Eddie doesn’t mind, though; honestly, it helps to take his mind off of whatever the fuck he’s gotten himself into.

Emily, the assistant from earlier, walks up to the vanity, her cute ladybug glasses slipping down her nose as she steps into Eddie’s view— and Eddie is happy to see a familiar and kind face. “Will you be needing a fluffer?”

Eddie blinks, eyes fluttering when the hairstylist dusts his bangs over his lashes, “Uh— a what now?”

Nicki loudly pops her gum as she shakes a can of hairspray, “A fluffer, honey. Someone to jack you off and get you ready for the scene.” 

Eddie’s eyes widened for a split second, and he made the mistake of glancing over at the girl who was still modeling across the room. Her tits are out now, and they’re perfect, and she catches Eddie’s eyes for the second time, and it makes his already stiffened cock stir within his pants.

Eddie shakes his head as he looks back at Emily, his voice higher when he responds, “No, I uh… I think I’m good.”

Which, duh. Eddie's dick is practically breaking the seams of his jeans because of the pretty girl, and it’s only getting worse because now she’s walking toward him dressed in a white robe. “You must be Eddie.”

Eddie’s surprised you know his name, but then he figures, obviously, you must know his name given the fact that you’re about to let him swing his dick near you. “That’s me,” Eddie smiles, “You must be… I’m sorry nobody’s told me anything.” He awkwardly laughs.

You nod with a shrug and tell him your name, “Is this your first time filming?” You ask.

Eddie nods, “Is it that obvious?” He nervously asks. You shrug, “Most guys in the industry need more than a pair of tits to get that hard.” You nod towards Eddie’s crotch— and oh god. How embarrassing! She knows you were checking her out!

“No need to be embarrassed though, Eddie. Pretty soon, you’ll be shoving your cock down my throat, so.”

Eddie’s cock may have gotten harder from those words alone.

“A rookie? Seriously, Don?”

Your makeup is being done, so you don’t see how your manager rolls her eyes at you. “When I said I wanted someone fresh, I didn’t mean never-been-under-the-camera fresh.” 

The makeup artist finishes with your touch-ups, and you take the opportunity to turn to Don and glare at her, “He doesn’t know what he’s doing, Don.”

The older lady waves a dismissive hand, “He’ll do just fine, babe,” she deadpans. You shake your head, turning to look at the man of the hour. He’s attractive; you’ll give him that. Tall, pretty curly hair, sweet brown eyes, a panty-dropping voice. Sure, he’s attractive, okay. But he’s got no clue how to do this type of thing. Clearly— I mean, you’re literally watching him gaze down at the dildos that have been lined up for you as if he’s never seen one in his life— which you doubt. If he knew how to find an adult filmmaking studio, then he’s definitely seen some fucking dildos.

You suppress a laugh when he accidentally drops a glass dildo, turning back to your manager as you ignore his chorus of apologies to the staff, “My case in point.”

Don fails to hold back a laugh, “So he’s a little off the walls,” she shrugs, “He’s cute though. And his dick is nice. Trust me.”

And, well, she’s not wrong.

Don’s never been one to lie without reason, so unfortunately, Eddie’s cock is nice. Pretty, even. Which is weird because after some time being in this industry, the thrill of a nice-looking cock has gotten lost on you because they practically all look the same— just different shades of colors, really.

But Eddie’s cock is nice in the sense that it’s real. He’s not shot up with steroids to make it overly veiny and big or cleanly shaved or any of that superficial camera-ready shit. No, Eddie is natural. He’s got neatly trimmed curly hairs across his pelvis that smell like his body wash when you nuzzle your nose against it, and he’s big enough to wrap your hand around, but you know the second he pushes inside of you, it will be a nice stretch. He’s cut, and he has a slight curve to the left, and he’s so sensitive his cock jumps when you tap the pearly white drop that leaks from his tip. You giggle, shuffling forward on your knees as you stroke him.

You’re already done with the opening scene, finally. Eddie couldn’t remember any of his lines, so it took a lot longer than it should’ve, but you think it was worth it either way because the way Eddie moans when you finally wrap your lips around his tip is the prettiest sound you think you’ve ever heard.

“F-fuck,” He quietly curses, hips shifting as you swallow more of him. He sinks a slightly shaking hand into your hair, gently cupping your head as you work your mouth over him. Your eyes flutter to gaze up at him, and your stomach flutters at the cocky grin he gives you. “You’ve got such a good little mouth on you, sweetheart. Gonna let me fuck it?”

You hum and nod as best as you can with his cock in your mouth, and he hums, “Open up for me, baby.”

You shift on your knees, finding a comfortable position for the action before blinking up at Eddie, indicating you’re ready. Eddie’s hands are steady and certain as he cups both sides of your head, holding you still as he draws his cock out once before slowly thrusting in until your throat tightens around his tip.

He fills your mouth so perfectly, just enough to where you won’t get bored, but you also won’t get an overly aching jaw, and you can’t wait to feel him inside you. Can’t wait to feel how his cock twitches when he first nestles deep in your walls or how much better the sounds he makes will be.

It’s a nice feeling, having Eddie fuck your mouth, and you usually don’t care much for shots like this because most of the time, it’s either underwhelming or overwhelming, but Eddie fucks your throat in a sense that’s dirty yet so caring. He’s spewing out filthy praises, and you're drooling onto his balls, but he’s looking at you with these soft brown eyes and caressing you so gently you might quiver. Fuck, you really wanted to hate him.

Behind the camera, the director makes a motion for you to cut to the next action, but since your back is to them, Eddie is the one that sees it and gently coaxes you off from his cock, cooing when you let out the smallest whine that only he can hear. He smiles, thumb running beneath your swollen lip to catch the strings of spit and cum, “What? You liked having me down your throat, sweet girl?”

You mewl, pressing your chin into his palm as you nod.

"Yeah. Want it, please?" You whisper. God, you didn’t expect to be fucked out within the first scene. "Aw, maybe next time, princess. You can keep me warm as long as you'd like."

It’s almost embarrassing, how much you like the sound of that and how it makes your tummy flip, but you don’t have much time to think about it because Eddie’s ushering you up from the floor to climb onto the couch and straddle his lap. 

You’re both bare now, and when Eddie had first taken his shirt off, you wanted nothing more than to run your hands down his graffitied chest, but you were too busy sinking to your knees. But now you have the chance, and boy, do you fucking take it.

You marvel as you coast your hands across Eddie’s body, fingertips gliding through fields of inked stories and vast skin. His breath hitches when you graze over his nipples, and his hips shift beneath you, wet cock slipping against your sticky folds. You whimper, grinding down onto him, and he curses as he grabs ahold of your hips. “Y’like them?” He sweetly asks, referring to his tattoos.

"Yeah," you nod, grinding down harder to have his cock nestled between your folds, his ruddy tip nudging your clit. “I can tell you all about them if you want.”

You giggle at his timing, but before you can respond, a director speaks up from the side, “Less talking, please.”

Eddie glances over your shoulder and salutes the man, “Roger that, sir.”

You can’t help but snort at his actions, but you’re quickly hushed when Eddie reaches down to paint his cock between your folds before lining himself up, “Go ahead and sit on it, baby.” He whispers.

You listen, nuzzling your face against his shoulder as you wriggle yourself down the length of his cock.

And god, you love being fucking right. The stretch is so good, better than you had imagined it to be, and you can’t help the high-pitched moan that slips from your lips when Eddie thrusts up into you. 

"O-oh. Oh fuck," You whimper. You’re practically boneless as Eddie fucks you, your entire body just draped over him as his hands dig into your ass to help bounce you on his cock. “Jesus fucking— you feel so good,” He pants, and you mewl, cunt clenching around his cock as he drills up into you. “You gonna cum for me, hm? Be my best girl and cum for me. I know you’ll sound so pretty.” He whispers.

Before you know it, you’re moaning out and writhing in Eddie’s hold, juices dripping down his cock and forming a sticky mess in the patch of curls at his base as you cum.

“Let’s have a shot from the back.” 

Your body feels weightless as you and Eddie change positions so you’re on all fours. You’re blinking through a hazy fog, and it feels so good. Eddie’s hands send chills up your spine as they grip your waist and tug you towards him. 

“Oh, baby, you’re shaking,” Eddie hums, running his hands over the fat of your ass, thumbs digging into the skin to spread you open. You’re so wet you can hear the sticky noise of your folds parting, and Eddie groans as he watches your pussy clench around nothing. “You open up so well for me, sweet girl.” 

Jesus.

You don’t get much of a warning before you feel Eddie lapping and sucking at your cunt, devouring you until you’re nothing but a mess of moans and quivering limbs.

Jesus Christ, that wasn’t in the fucking script. Half of the shit Eddie’s doing isn’t in the fucking script, and it's making your head spin.

God, who is this man?

You whimper his name, reaching a shaky hand back to grapple at his hair, and Eddie nuzzles his face deeper into your cunt, nose nudging your ass in a way that makes your toes curl. He’s good. He’s really good, you’ll give him that.

You and Eddie go at it for about an hour, switching positions and pausing every now and then to get a good shot of your cunt wrapped around Eddie’s cock, or Eddie’s tongue lapping over your clit or tits.

And it's fun doing this with Eddie.

Eddie is like a breath of fresh air. Most guys in this industry are stuck up and make things annoyingly serious, and most girls are either bitchy or just want to get it over with, which you don’t blame them for. 

But Eddie makes things feel so normal— like you’re just two best friends getting filmed having sex— because he keeps whispering tiny jokes to make you giggle. He tells you how pretty you sound and look, and he’s so incredibly clueless because he keeps leaning in and asking things like, “Is this, like, a good angle for the camera?” and “Should I maybe kiss you more?” and “Is it okay if I stop fucking you for a second? Because I’m about to blow.”

And all you can do is breathlessly moan and nod because he’s plunging himself so deep into you that it almost hurts, but it’s so good.

You’re so fucked out you barely even register Eddie’s words when he tells you he’s about to cum, but your body immediately reacts when he pats your hip, indicating for you to get ready.

You scramble down from the couch, limbs weighted from pleasure as you settle on your knees, batting your lashes up at Eddie as he towers over you, stroking his wet cock. Eddie rests a hand on your head, fingers grasping your hair to keep you still as he gazes down at you. You’re impatient, so you can’t help but let yourself sneakily lick the tip of his cock, and he grins, “It’s coming, precious girl. Stick your tongue out for me.”

You shuffle closer, sticking your tongue out as you eagerly await the taste of Eddie on your tongue— and when you get it, god, you never want it to stop. Everything about it is perfect: the way his face twists up, the way he tastes, the pretty moans he lets out. You want it on repeat.

You might buy this film just to relive it.

You take every last drop Eddie has to give you with a happy hum; a little bit catches your lip, and Eddie swipes it with his thumb before bringing it to his mouth and suckling. You whine, frowning and causing Eddie to laugh, “You got most of it, sweetheart. Can’t be too greedy, can you?”

It’s like you’re both in your own world. Only talking to each other and enjoying each other's bodies because Eddie just… it’s weird, but he makes the room go away. He makes things feel less performative— and maybe it’s just your hazy, blissed-out state of mind, but you think you might like Eddie.

You’re snapped from your trance when the director yells cut, and then everyone’s springing into action to tear down the set because another crew will be using it next. Eddie helps you stand on your wobbly legs, “You alright?”

You nod, “Great. You did good, by the way.”

Eddie leans forward and grabs your robe that had been pushed to the side. He smiles as he holds it open for you, “Thank you. You did pretty awesome yourself.” He responds as you slink your arms through the sleeves.

You turn to Eddie as you close your robe and tie it shut. Your assistant, Emily, hands Eddie a robe for himself, and he thanks her, curtly bowing his head as he grabs the plush article. “So,” Eddie starts as he slips on the robe. You both start walking towards the dressing rooms as he speaks, “Think I could make a career for myself here?” He asks. 

You halt at that, turning to Eddie with a confused look, “Is that… is that not why you’re here?” You ask.

Eddie shakes his head as he ties his robe, “Nah, I got fired from my job. Needed some cash for rent this month.” He explains.

Is it selfish to say you’re disappointed to hear this? If Eddie had been wanting to join this industry, you would’ve had the opportunity to work with him again. But maybe it’s more selfish to say you’re happy he isn’t joining this industry. Eddie becoming an adult film star would mean half of the time, he’d be fucking other people, and unfortunately, that idea alone makes your gut twist with jealousy.

You nod, pursing your lips as you fiddle with your fingers, “Well… would you be interested in this type of thing?” You try your best to sound casual about it, and you think it works because Eddie only shrugs again with a short hum, “I don’t know. Wouldn’t be opposed to it, I guess.”

Before you can respond, Emily calls your name, “Don needs to speak with you in the other room about your next shoot.”

You turn back to Eddie and try to commit his pretty brown eyes to memory, “I guess I’ll see you around, Eddie.” You smile. Eddie smiles back and does somewhat of a dramatic bow, and you snort as you walk off.

You glance over your shoulder as you walk with Emily.

“Could you do me a favor?” You ask her. Emily nods, and you take one last glance at Eddie before he disappears into the dressing room. 

“Get his number for me. And leave it in my purse, please.”

A couple of weeks have passed since Eddie made his big debut in the film world.

Eddie made a pretty penny from that film, enough to pay his rent and have some play money on the side. Thankfully, Eddie doesn’t have to scramble for cash this month again because he got a job at the mechanic shop downtown. It’s a lot of labor and a lot of hours, but the pay is good, and nobody gives a shit if Eddie comes back from lunch smelling like a dispensary, so.

Suck that, Robert.

However, Eddie’s still thoroughly surprised to see you sitting in the shop office when he returns from a quick smoke break. “Woah, funny seeing you here. Car problems?” He questions. Eddie tries not to think about the fact that he’s seen you completely bare before. Tries not to think of how he’d spent over an hour in your guts last month or how you swallowed his load like it was nothing. Eddie fails miserably.

You shake your head as you stand up from the leather couch in the office, grabbing your purse as Eddie walks closer to you, “No, actually, Lola’s doing great.”

Eddie cocks his head, “Lola?”

You nod, “My car.” You gesture out towards the window where your car is parked. Eddie makes an understanding noise as he nods. 

“I was actually hoping to talk to you.” 

Eddie pauses at that, confusion settling over his body as he looks at you. You’re beautiful, kind, soft eyes with soft, pretty lips that Eddie thinks about kissing when he goes to bed. Eddie points to himself with raised eyebrows, “Me?”

You nod again, “Yeah, about like… my job and stuff.”

Oh.

Ohhhh.

“Oh, shit, yeah, um,” Eddie glances around the office and nods, “Yeah, we can step out and talk, like, in my van, maybe?” He offers. Not because he’s, like, ashamed to talk about porn or something, most people watch it! But a few of the guys that work here are downright dipshits, and Eddie won’t hesitate to punch one of them if they say some sly shit about you or your job. And, well, Eddie would like to keep his job, so.

You don’t take offense to it, though; you just nod with your pretty smile and tell Eddie to lead the way.

Eddie’s van smells like weed, cologne, and a hint of whatever he had for lunch.

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbles as he clears off the passenger seat that’s filled with bottles of different drinks, rolling papers, food wrappers, and things of the like. “She’s seen better days.” 

You smile nonetheless, thanking him when he steps away and holds the door open for you. You hop into the seat, glancing around as Eddie shuts your door and jogs to the driver's seat.

He gets in with a heavy sigh, hair unruly from the wind, brown eyes wide and excited when he looks at you. “Hey.” He huffs with a smile, and there’s a piece of hair in Eddie’s bangs that’s sticking straight up. “Hey.” You giggle, reaching out to fix the rebellious strand. Eddie softly thanks you, and you swear you see a hint of pink dust across his cheeks.

He shifts in his seat, rubbing his hands against his thighs as he sighs again, “So… what’s up?”

God, he’s so cute. So incredibly weird and awkward and cute. He looks handsome in his navy blue coveralls, grease stains smeared across his torso, and some sneaky smudges on his neck. “You’re very hard to get ahold of, you know?” You tease.

Eddie’s face twists in confusion, “Huh?”

You shrug, distracting yourself by poking around at his dashboard, sifting through the CDs and tapes he has lying about. Eddie doesn’t stop you; he only watches, and you give him a cheeky smile. “My assistant got your number, right? But then you, like, never answered my calls.” You shrug as you flip through more of his things. You hear Eddie mumble something about needing a new cord for his home phone before he asks louder, " So, how’d you find me?”

God, he must think you’re a stalker or something. You didn’t really think that through, honestly.

You hum, “Just asked around a bit. You’re a bit of a hot commodity around here, by the way. Heard you started a cult? What’s that about?” 

Eddie’s eyes widen at your words, and you laugh, “Oh god. Jesus, no, I didn’t start a cult. I just,” he groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose, “I was just weird in high school.”

“You’re still weird.”

Eddie’s face falters at your words, but you smile as you add, “I like it.”

Eddie blushes again, but he turns to look away this time, and you think he’s the cutest thing you’ve ever set your eyes upon. He turns back to you with a shy grin, “Did you come here just to flirt with me?” He teases, wrapping a strand of his hair around his finger to twirl in a shy manner. “Maybe… but I also have a question.” You respond.

Eddie nods, “Shoot.”

You take a deep breath as you shift in your seat, “Well, uh, I wanted to ask if you maybe…” You glance at Eddie, who's expectantly awaiting your question, and your stomach twists with nerves. Why are you so nervous to ask Eddie for something you’ve already done before?

“Well, I’m doing a shoot tomorrow,” you finally begin, “And I just found out the guy they paired me with is, like, a total asshole— I’ve worked with him before, he’s just… awful,” You explain. “So, I was just… I don’t know; I was just wondering— hoping— you’d be up for it, maybe? To take the guy's place, I mean.”

You finish rambling and glance at Eddie as his eyes widen, “Oh, um. Like— like, film with you again?”

Eddie could leap for joy right now.

Not only are you, like, the cutest, prettiest, kindest fucking human being to ever grace this earth, but you’re sitting in Eddie’s van, chewing on your lip and asking Eddie to fuck you for the cameras again.

Eddie must’ve done something incredibly right in his past life.

“Oh!” Eddie starts, “ Um… yeah, I’d love to!” What? Weird, take that back. “No, I mean, like, not in a weird way. I just— I’d rather not let the asshole do it if I can do it.”

God, could Eddie sound any more pathetic?

Still, despite how dumb Eddie sounds, you smile and clasp your hands together, “Oh, are you sure? I know it’s last minute, and it’s not really the ideal task—” 

“Woah, wait. What do you mean not the ideal task?” 

Because literally, what do you mean? How could that not be the ideal task? And who made you think that fucking you isn’t the ideal task? If it’s that asshole you were supposed to work with, then Eddie has a few colorful things to say about and to him.

You shrug, fiddling with your fingers in your lap, “Nothing, I just know my job isn’t… you know, traditional or whatever. And you had only done it that one time because you needed it, so I get it if you’re, like, not in the mood to fuck on camera for a bunch of random people.” You ramble. Which, uh, no. You could not be further from the truth. Eddie would love to fuck you on camera for a bunch of random people. Hell, Eddie would love to fuck you under any consensual circumstance, if he’s being honest, so. Yeah, he’s pretty excited.

“No,” Eddie shakes his head, “No, I— I want to, really, I do.” Eddie nods.

Your unsure frown spreads into the prettiest smile before you reach across the center console to pull Eddie into the most bone-crushing, you-scented, chest-warming hug Eddie’s ever been given as you spew out a chorus of thank yous.

“I brought a copy of the script for you to look over so you’re not totally confused,” Eddie watches as you pull back to reach into your bag and pull out a manilla folder. “I usually like to color coordinate my scripts, so I did it for you too. The pink is me, and the red is you, and the specific actions they want us to do are in blue.” You point out. And Eddie thinks he might kiss you right now— you’re so fucking cute!

“Wow, thanks, um… I wish I were, like… good with these types of things, but I think you saw how majestic I am with scripts.” Eddie huffs out a laugh as he scratches the back of his neck. You smile, “I can help you— if you’d like.”

Oh, you’re trying to kill Eddie at this rate.

Eddie nods either way, even though he’s six feet underground and knocking at the fiery gates. “I would love that, actually. I finish work in about three hours if you’re free.”

Eddie definitely broke a handful of laws while driving home.

Since you offered to help Eddie with his lines, you both decided to meet at Eddie’s place. He gave you his address, told you how to get into the complex, and said see you later. Now, Eddie is ecstatic to see you, obviously, but Eddie can’t remember if his home looked normal or like a Walmart clearance aisle after black Friday, so he ran through multiple stop signs and red lights to get home before you showed up so he could clear things up.

He’s hustling through his apartment like a madman, picking up strewn clothes and cat toys before speeding through the few dishes he had in his sink. Honestly, Eddie’s apartment has seen worse days, so there’s not much cleaning he has to do, but he’s still stressed when he hears a knock on the door. 

Eddie doesn’t even like candles, but he lit one just in case there’s a smell he’s grown used to lingering about. Eddie just doesn’t want you to think he’s a slob. Because he isn’t. He just has an orchestrated chaotic lifestyle.

Eddie couldn’t be happier when he opened his door because there you were, beaming with a smile and a bag of takeout, and Eddie thought it wasn’t normal to be this soft for someone you’d basically just met.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Eddie dramatically bows with an extended hand to show the entrance of his small, homey apartment. You smile as you walk in, taking in your surroundings.

It’s nothing extraordinary, honestly. Eddie’s home is really just vomit of everything Eddie likes: favorite colors, favorite movies, favorite game characters, etc. It’s like Eddie’s brain exploded and painted itself all over the place. Eddie had a girlfriend many moons ago, and she changed things around to become more coordinated, so now it’s less of a shit show and more of an abstract museum sort of thing.

Whatever. Doesn’t matter anyway because you’re gasping and picking up the little roommate Eddie has. 

“Who’s this?” You coo at the little creature. You’re looking down at the furball as you scratch behind her ear, “That,” Eddie sighs, “Is the reason why I didn’t get your calls.”

You look up at Eddie, confusion written across your face. Eddie points across the room to the wall where his home phone hangs, except the wire is broken. “Little asshole chewed through the wire, and I’ve been slow to replace it. Her name is Banshee.”

The cat meows at the mention of her name, wide eyes blinking up at Eddie as you coddle her. She’s a fluffy cat with a black coat decorated with two white spots: one on her back and the other just behind her ear.

You hum, “So technically,” You drag, “It’s your fault.” You tease. You coo as you press your cheek to the tiny kitten, gazing up at Eddie with these soft eyes, “I don’t think you can blame this cutie for your laziness.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes, wills away whatever power he has to not kiss you, and gently takes the takeout bag from your hands so you have less to carry. “Fine then. Ask her what happened to the laces of my work shoes, too, since she’s so innocent.”

Eddie’s home is so… Eddie.

He’s got music and horror movie posters framed along his walls, cute little scary figurines randomly placed within his bookshelves, and there’s an overall smell of Eddie’s musk and the sandalwood candle he has burning. It’s cozy, a nice space for one person who enjoys their alone time, and he let you choose a record to play from his extensive collection, and he has the world's cutest little cat, so it’s safe to say you could spend an eternity in Eddie’s world.

“Shit, that wasn’t my line,” Eddie stresses. You smile as Eddie tosses the packet onto his coffee table and falls back onto the couch, “We’re wasting our time here, princess. I dropped out of theater for a reason.” He grumbles.

You sigh, tilting your head against the couch cushion as you gaze at Eddie, “You’re thinking too hard about it.” You say. “It’s a porno, not a Grammy-nominated film.” You point out.

Eddie snorts before giving a short shrug, “For the record, I think you could land a Grammy, sweetheart.” 

You roll your eyes, “Yeah, right. You don’t need to suck up to me, Eddie, you’re already gonna fuck me tomorrow.” You jokingly say.

Eddie waves you off and shifts into a more comfortable position. “So,” He starts, “What’s the asshole guy's deal?” 

Banshee has hopped onto the couch and made her way into your lap, tiny paws kneading the material of your jeans as she settles. You gently pet her as you glance at Eddie and shrug, “Not sure, he’s just a total dick,” You grumble. “I worked with him once last year, and he, like, told me I wasn’t the best or whatever— which, okay, I can totally understand,” You ramble, “I don’t think I’m, like, some sex god. I don’t expect to be everyone or anyone’s best fuck, but still! It just… it didn’t make me feel good, the way he said it.” You windedly explain. You distract yourself with the cute animal in your lap as you finish your explanation, “So, I asked my manager never to pair us again, but—” You shrug.

Next to you, Eddie shifts once more and scoffs. “He’s a fucking shitfaced liar, princess.”

You snort, playfully rolling your eyes, “Eddie—” “No, I’m serious. He’s a liar. Anybody who even gets the chance to touch you is a lucky fucker, okay? If anything, he probably begged your manager to let him work with you again.”

“You’re just saying that. I don’t need you to try and make me feel better, and it was so long ago anyway.” ���Yeah, but that’s the thing, I’m not.”

You frown as you gaze over at Eddie, watching as he sits straight and looks at you with a serious gaze in his eyes. “I don’t know what’s up with that guy, maybe he was dropped as a baby too many times, but anybody with common sense and a properly functioning dick knows just how fucking amazing you are. End of discussion.”

And well, it’s pathetic how your chest warms at his words, but it does. And as Eddie goes on to ramble about his hectic week at work, you can’t help but let your mind spin with Eddie’s kind words until nothing is in your mind but the echoes of Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Not many times has Eddie woken up with a girl in his home. Well, at least not a girl that he’s actually liked for more than a one-night stand or a shortly-lived fling.

After running the script for the last time, Eddie suggested putting on a movie and digging into the takeout you’d brought. The meal was delicious, and the movie you’d landed on was hilarious, but it’s hard to keep your eyes open on a full stomach, so when Eddie felt your head drop onto his shoulder, he couldn’t help but let his body sink into the couch and fall asleep too.

You’d woken up about an hour later and tried to make your escape quietly, but Eddie insisted you shouldn’t drive in such a sleepy state, so he let you make yourself comfy in his bed. Banshee, the little traitor, trotted right behind you and left Eddie on the couch to snuggle up beside you for the night.

You’re cute in the morning, Eddie thinks. You have an adorable little pout, and you yawn about 80 times until you’ve had a sip of coffee. 

It takes nearly a lifetime to drag you away from Banshee so you and Eddie can head to the studio because you adore the little asshole, and Banshee loves anything that’ll give her the time of day. You make Eddie promise to let you see her again, though, so you sadly say goodbye with a soft peck to the fluffy area between her eyes and let Eddie drag you to his van.

The car ride is nice; Eddie lets you mess around with the contents of his van and go through the stack of CDs he’s compiled over the years. You land on one of Eddie’s favorites, an old mixtape Wayne made in college that Eddie spent most of his high school blaring loud enough to blow out a speaker.

Today, you’re shooting in a house— a nice one that Eddie could only conjure up in his dreams—but he doesn’t have much time to dwell on it because he’s being dragged over to makeup and hair as soon as he steps in.

“You thinking of joining the industry?” Nicki asks as she works a nice-smelling mousse into Eddie’s hair.

Eddie had been busy watching you talk to one of the producers, but he finds the strength to tear his eyes away and gaze at Nicki through the vanity mirror. “No, not exactly. Just… doing a favor for a friend, I guess.”

Nicki raises an eyebrow, “A friend? Don’t act like I didn’t see you two come in together.”

Eddie’s face warms at that, the tips of his ears turning red as he stutters, “Huh?” 

Nicki looks at Eddie with a ‘Don’t bullshit me’ look.

“I mean, like, yeah, we had breakfast together–” “Mhm.”

Eddie huffs out a gentle laugh, “No, really, we’re friends.”

“Friends that fuck on camera and look at each other the way you two do? Sure.”

Eddie doesn’t ask what Nicki means by that because— well, he knows what Nicki means by that. He’s caught himself looking at you like you put the stars in the sky one too many times, and it’s almost embarrassing. Almost.

But can you blame Eddie? Can you really blame him when you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, the softest smile, the greatest laugh, and the sweetest personality? It’s not Eddie’s fault that you’re perfect.

Eddie just thinks you’re neat. 

He thinks you’re amazing, actually, and it’s hard to remember his fucking lines when you’re standing under a steaming shower, wet body glistening and pebbled nipples practically begging for his mouth.

He’s butchering the script, that’s for sure, but he figures it’s not too bad since nobody’s corrected him. 

The scene starts with you taking a shower and Eddie being a peeping tom, which ultimately leads to Eddie sinking to his knees and licking into you until you’re a quivering, sticky mess on his tongue. Eddie would spend forever on his knees, between your legs, if he could because you taste heavenly and sound better than any song Eddie’s ever listened to, and that says something.

Your fingers thread through the wet strands of Eddie’s hair, and Eddie rapidly blinks when he gazes up at you, only to get an eyeful of his wispy bangs. You smile, petting back his bangs so he can see, and he hums, nudging his face further against you, his tongue teasing more, fingers curling deeper.

It doesn’t take long to make you cum, and the second you do, Eddie is standing up, shutting off the shower, and ushering you out into the expansive main bathroom. It’s almost as if it’s just Eddie and you in the room. No cameras, no directors or producers, or that weird pervy lighting guy that compliments you way too fucking much for Eddie’s liking. It’s just you and Eddie.

“Let’s do an over-the-counter shot next.”

Fuck. It’s not just you two, actually.

What a buzz kill.

Either way, Eddie finds himself pressing your wet, naked waist down against the sink, smiling when you squeal at the cold marble touching your skin. “Stick your ass out, baby, let me see that gorgeous ass.” 

You mewl as you follow Eddie’s instructions, tipping your hips back to present yourself to him and the cameras. You’re dripping. Swollen and wet and throbbing, and Eddie— god, Eddie feels like a fucking animal.

“Got such a pretty pussy, honey. All wet and ready for me, hm?” He teases, gently running his fingers through the sticky arousal between your legs. You shakily breathe as you nod your head, “Yeah. All for you. Please.”

Eddie steps forward, grabbing his cock and painting it between your swollen lips as he hooks his other arm across your shoulders, pulling you back to press against his chest. He presses a wet kiss to the skin of your cheek in front of your ear, voice dry and needy as he whispers in your ear, “You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” His eyes catch yours in the mirror as you keen. “Ask me to fuck you.”

You whimper out loud, wriggling your hips back into his as your hands grip the counter, “P-please fuck me. Please. Need it so bad, want your cock so bad I— o-oh.”

The slide to home base is fucking otherworldly. It was life-changing the first time, and it’s life-changing now, and if Eddie ever gets the chance to fuck you again, he knows it’ll be life-changing then.

You’re so warm, and you're sucking Eddie’s cock in so nicely, so sinfully, that Eddie almost makes a deal with the devil right then and there. Your chest is heaving by the time Eddie’s pelvis presses to your bum, his cock nestled deep into your pulsing cunt. Eddie leans forward, pressing his chest against your back as he loops an arm around your shoulders, holding you tight to him as he gives one slow thrust. He coos when your eyes flutter shut, and your jaw drops, a shaky hand reaching up to sink your nails into Eddie’s forearm.

“S-so deep,” You slur, wriggling your hips back against Eddie.

Eddie grunts, “Fuck. You feel so good, baby. Always so warm and ready for me, hm?” Eddie’s lips are wet against your jaw as he whispers into your ear, and you nod with a mewl.

Eddie works up the pace relatively fast in favor of the cameras, and at some point, he reaches down to grip the thick of your thigh and haul your leg up to rest on the counter so you’re spread open even more. The angle makes it easier for him to catch your spot, and it’s better for the camera to capture the sight of your soaking pussy wrapped around Eddie’s cock, dribbling onto both of your thighs and creating a sticky ring of arousal at the base of Eddie’s dick.

Eddie’s hand is wrapped around your throat when you begin twitching around him, mumbling promises of your climax, and Eddie doesn’t waste time in sinking his hand between your legs to help you reach the edge quicker. Your moans fall silent, eyes squeezed shut, and jaw dropped wide open as Eddie fucks you through your orgasm— and fuck, you feel so good. Squeezing and pulsing and dripping around Eddie’s thighs, throat vibrating beneath his palm when air comes back to you.

“There we go, baby. Get it all out, push it out, honey.” Eddie encourages you.

You’re shaking, trembling like a leaf in Eddie’s arms, and Eddie wants to spend forever tucked into your pussy, warm skin sticky against him, pretty little whines and mewls coating his brain in this cutesy pink fog that makes him want to fucking marry you.

Get you a home, give you his babies, maybe even get you a fucking dog and just live happily goddamn ever.

Jesus, Eddie’s a goner.

“F-fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Eddie pulls out last second, jerking himself off between your cute ass cheeks until he’s spurting white ropes of cum up your back.

Eddie, ever the considerate man he is, pushes your hair out of the way to avoid getting any of his sticky release in it. You’re breathing heavily, pretty eyes glazed over as you glance back at Eddie, a shy glint in your eyes at the sight of your skin painted in his cum.

Eddie’s obsessed with you now, no doubt.

His ringed fingers slide through the sticky mess on your skin as he grips your ass cheeks, gently spreading them apart and humming when you arch your back, proudly swaying your ass in front of him. The sight makes Eddie dizzy; pools of cum dripping down your back to slink its way through your ass and over your sticky folds. “You’ve got such a cute little hole, baby.” Eddie compliments, taking his thumb and smearing his cum over the puckered muscle, softly laughing when you whine. 

He lightly slaps your ass then, reaching forward to gently grasp your face with his messy hands and pull you back to press a firm kiss over your lips. His thumb, the one that had smeared his cum over your tight hole, sinks between your moving lips, pushing into your mouth and onto your tongue as he whispers a small command to taste it, and you mewl.

“So good, princess—”

“Cut!”

You both jolt at the booming voice, getting rudely snapped out of the daze you’d fallen into. 

These fucking cameras.

You smile, dropping your cheek onto your shoulder as you bat your eyelashes up at Eddie from over your shoulder, “You’re a natural, Eddie, you know that?”

Eddie huffs a laugh, thanking the assistant when they bring you towels and robes.

“Well,” He breathes as he slinks the robe over his shoulders, watching as you do the same, “I’ve got the best coach.” He winks.

Now that you and Eddie have done two films together and basically had a sleepover, you’re practically inseparable.

It’s funny, really. Eddie thought maybe the fact that you’ve seen each other bare and had sex on camera might hinder the aspect of any friendly connection because, well, Eddie’s never done this before! He’s not a pornstar, so he’s not sure how the friendship/relationship aspect of it works, but luckily, it’s easier than most normal friendships Eddie’s had before.

You talk almost every night over the phone (Eddie finally fixed the wire), going over one another’s day and laughing at embarrassing or funny moments. You go on for hours until either one of you falls asleep, and it’s usually you since Eddie has the sleep schedule of a newborn baby who doesn’t know the difference between night and day. All the better for him, though, because he gets to poke fun at you the next day and tease you about how you sometimes snore.

And Eddie loves listening to you talk— could spend hours cuddled up with Banshee as he listens to you ramble on about whatever new show you’re watching or the latest gossip at work. It’s Eddie’s favorite part of his day, talking to you, so he kicks himself when he realizes he forgot to call you last night.

He’s getting ready for bed when he remembers, and he practically sprints to his phone on his nightstand and dials your number in less than thirty seconds. It takes you three rings to answer, and Eddie smiles at the sound of your voice, “Hello?”

“Hi, princess,” Eddie responds.

You gasp, “Eddie, hi! Oh, I was just about to call you! Where have you been?” You ask. Eddie groans, dropping back onto his mattress with spread arms. “Working. I’m so sorry I forgot to call. I just started a new schedule at the shop, and the hours are awful.”

Eddie can hear your frown when you respond, “Bummer. I’ve got a way to cheer you up, though.”

Eddie’s eyes are closed, and sleep is so heavy in his bones he feels like he’s sinking through the mattress, but he smiles as if it’s second nature when he responds, “Hit me.”

You cheer, and Eddie hears the rustling of grocery bags on your end as you speak, “My manager gave me a shit ton of holiday chocolates she had left over, and well, I was wondering if you’d like to drown yourself in sugar with me?” 

Eddie softly laughs, folding his arm to rest his hand on his tummy as he nods, forgetting you can’t see. “You didn’t even have to ask.”

The drive from your flat to Eddie’s is typically around twenty minutes, but with the benefit of it being nearly midnight and most normal people being in bed by now, you’re knocking on Eddie’s door in just a little under twelve minutes. 

Eddie opens the door to let you in and immediately just wants to kiss you. You’re dressed in an oversized sweatshirt, loose pajama pants with cute little ducks printed on them, and fluffy house slippers. You grin up at Eddie as you lift a bag full of candy, “I come bearing gifts!”

Eddie had been exhausted all day, but now that he’s had two handfuls of sugary treats, he’s ready to run a fucking marathon.

He’s sucking on a sour apple jawbreaker and watching some shitty romcom with Banshee curled in his lap when he feels your head softly drop onto his shoulder. He glances down at you and sees the soft flutter of your eyes, “Are you tired? You can take my bed.” He offers.

You tilt your head to blink up at him tiredly, “Will you come with me?”

And well, Eddie was originally going to take the couch, but you’re looking up at him with these cute, bleary eyes, and Eddie can’t even imagine saying no. So, he shuts his TV off, makes a mental note to clean up the candy wrappers sometime tomorrow, and lets you drag him off to his room.

Banshee decided to take advantage of the new space on the couch and sprawl out, so Eddie doesn’t have to worry about asking if you’re okay with her cuddling up on his bed like she usually does. 

Eddie doesn’t do this very often— sleep with other people in his bed, he means. And sure, he’s had partners before that would stay the night here and there, but he hasn’t had that in over a year now, so it’s safe to say that Eddie’s a little bit nervous.

He doesn’t know if you want to be close, but considering how cuddly you are on a daily basis, he’s not surprised when you press yourself into his side with a content sigh, snuggling deeper into the warm covers. He turns, shifting to wrap his arms around your frame, trying his best to ignore the fast beating of his heart in his chest— but that’s not the main issue. The bigger problem is— “Eddie? Are you hard?”

Shit.

God, this is awful. Nothing even remotely sexual happened, and Eddie’s popping a boner and practically stabbing your stomach. Fuck, you probably think he’s a perv now. Nice going.

“No.”

It falls silent for a moment, and Eddie can feel the quiver of your body as you giggle into his shoulder. He smiles, an embarrassed blush rising over her cheeks as he lifts a hand to palm at his eye, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You turn in Eddie’s arm, pressing a hand to Eddie’s shoulder to lay him on his back. You stay lying by his side, body pressed to him, head resting on his shoulder. You nose at the curly strands of hair on Eddie’s neck, and your hand runs down his torso, fingertips dipping beneath the waistband of his sweats. “O-oh. No, you don’t need to, princess.” Eddie says, yet his voice is shaky and holds anticipation as you drag your nails through the coarse hair leading to his cock. 

“I want to. Please?” You ask. And you’re so good, so obedient, not touching Eddie’s cock until he swallows and nods his head yes. You wriggle, like a happy pup that got a treat, and your hand sinks lower, wrapping around the thick of Eddie’s cock.

Eddie’s breath hitches, sinking into the feeling of your warm hand stroking up his cock, your thumb running over his leaking tip. Eddie curses, hips twitching up into your hold, and you press a kiss to his jaw, and Eddie nearly bursts into stars.

You press another kiss to his jaw, soft and sweet, and Eddie slinks an arm around you, sinking his hands into your hair and shakily breathing. “You keep kissing me like that, and I’m gonna— fuck.”

And it’s so pathetic; you’ve only had your hand down his pants for less than five minutes, and Eddie’s quivering like a virgin having their first time. God, this is so embarrassing.

You kiss Eddie once more, “Wait, wait. Not yet.”

And then you shuffle away from Eddie, and he’s frowning because he feels cold without you snuggled against him. But then you’re sinking underneath the covers, and Eddie’s cursing, “W-what are you doing, honey?”

He lifts the covers just as you wriggle your way between his legs and hook your fingers over the band of his sweats. You peel his sweats away, mouth opening like a hungry lion when Eddie’s cock pops out. You push the front band of his sweats to catch just below his balls, and Eddie’s hips squirm from the pressure making you giggle when his cock twitches.

You loop your fingers around his cock, twisting up on a long stroke, “Did I ever tell you how pretty your cock is, Eddie?”

Jesus Christ.

Eddie breathes shakily through his nose, tummy quivering as your gaze flickers; he shakes his head no. Eddie sinks a hand to pet your hair back, smiling when you nuzzle into his touch, letting your lips brush against his tip, “You think it’s pretty, baby?” He asks.

You nod, letting your tongue loll out of your mouth to catch the pearl of pre-cum dripping from his tip. You don’t say anything else as you lean forward and wrap your mouth around him, languidly taking him as far as you want and sucking him for all he’s worth.

Eddie’s head drops back then, his entire body just losing strength to do anything as you slowly fuck your mouth over him. The blanket falls over you then, and Eddie curses, scrambling to push it back over your head so you don’t, like, suffocate on his cock.

And Eddie was already close before, so it doesn’t take long for him to start cursing and warning you that he’s gonna cum. Before he knows it, he’s emptying himself into the warm cavern of your mouth, soft mixes of curses and your name tumbling from his mouth as you happily take every last drop.

You pull off of him with a small pop, licking up the small remnants of cum that drool down his cock. Eddie feels weightless now; the effects of sugar are long gone now that you practically sucked his soul through his dick. You tuck Eddie back into his pants, and as if you couldn’t get any cuter, any sweeter, you press a gentle kiss to Eddie’s tummy right where the waistband sits.

Eddie’s got a loopy grin on his face when you crawl back up to snuggle back into his side, mumbling something about how you love licking his cock. Eddie nearly dies, by the way.

He thinks he’s in love with you, maybe.

You breathe in deep, draping an arm across Eddie’s tummy and slinking your leg between his, and you sigh all sleepy and cute as you say, “G’night, Eddie.”

Yeah. Eddie’s definitely in love with you.

Weeks go by as you and Eddie become thick as thieves.

You carry on with your nightly calls, obviously, but now there’s a healthy mix of one of you going to the other's home and crashing there for the night, then that bleeds into the next day where you just spend hours with each other doing fuck all.

Eddie just likes being around you. You don’t have to be doing anything particularly fun or sexual; no, Eddie just enjoys your company. And most times, you and Eddie will be doing your separate little activities— you reading or watching a movie while Eddie writes up new campaign ideas for Dustin— and you will reach out to twirl a strand of Eddie’s hair around your knuckle and gently tug or poke your finger into his cheek where his dimples reside and Eddie just melts.

Most of the time, you’re only doing it for your peace of mind (Eddie knows because you told him when he asked), but something tells him maybe you actually have something to say when you poke Eddie’s cheek for the third time.

He turns to you, brows raised and hiding beneath his bangs that so badly need a trim, “Yes, doll?”

You smile now that his attention is on you, and you shift, careful not to wake Banshee in your lap from your movements. Eddie thinks Banshee might like you more than she likes him, which is just downright traitorous, considering Eddie’s the one who feeds her and keeps a roof over her head. He doesn’t really blame the cat, though. 

“What are you doing on Saturday?” You ask.

Eddie hums, closing his notebook and leaning back into his couch, “This Saturday?”

You nod, and Eddie shrugs, lips pouting as he speaks, “Nothing, I’m pretty sure. Why?”

You sigh heavily, sinking into the couch as you gently pet Banshee behind her ear, “We have an event for work, and I was just wondering if you would maybe wanna tag along?”

Eddie’s head tips in interest, “Sure. Is it, like, fancy dress shit?” He asks. Eddie thinks he has a tux somewhere deep in the trenches of his closet. Probably the one he wore to Wayne's wedding two years ago; he hopes he still fits.

You shrug, “Eh, nothing too fancy schmancy. Slacks and a nice shirt will do,” You mindlessly watch the television, gently rubbing Banshee’s ear between your fingers. “That I can do, princess. But uh,” Eddie pauses, “You don’t seem too ecstatic about this.” He points out.

You shrug, glancing over at Eddie, and Eddie wants to kiss your pouty lips because you look adorable swallowed up in a throw blanket with sleepy eyes blinking up at him. “S’cause I’m not,” You huff, “I hate those ignorant assholes— don’t get me wrong, some of them are good friends of mine! But most of them are just…” You make a face and roll your eyes, and Eddie softly laughs. You let your head lazily turn to gaze at him, “Don says I have to go, though. So I figured I may as well drag someone I actually enjoy being around.” You softly smile.

Eddie’s heart flutters and grows three times the size of his body.

Saturday night comes quicker than most, and Eddie spends nearly an hour digging through his closet. By the time Eddie finds a nice enough shirt to pair with his neatly ironed (to Eddie’s standard, which is probably not very high) slacks, he’s running behind and starts to stress that he won’t pick you up on time, and he’s just totally made an ass of himself.

It’s five o’clock when Eddie gets to your flat, and when he knocks on your door, he’s out of breath because he smokes more than a godman grill, and he skipped every other step on the staircase to get there quicker. He’s thinking of a million ways to apologize for being late, and he thinks he has it right when you open the door, but then— “Oh. Hey Eds! You’re early!”

Eddie huffs, nearly doubling over in exhaustion because he seriously needs to quit smoking, “Wha– early?”

You hold the door open for Eddie to step in and nod. You’re in a white fluffy robe with house boots on, and your hair is tied back, so you have a clear canvas to work with for your makeup. “Yeah, it starts at seven.” 

And, oh, what the fuck? Here Eddie was stressing and thinking he’d completely ruined his chances with you because he decided to be an asshat and lose track of time on his video games, but in reality, he’s nearly two hours early?!

“Oh, but now you can help me pick a dress. Come on.”

No, Eddie has zero complaints, actually. He’s grateful that he’s timely challenged, he thinks as you drag him toward your room.

Eddie spends the next thirty minutes or so seated at the foot of your bed, judging whichever dresses you surprise him with from out of your closet.

It isn’t easy to give a solid answer because, well, you look good in all of them. And Eddie’s not even being biased because he’s got a sickening crush on you— no, you genuinely look amazing in every dress.

“Eddie, you’ve said yes to all of them.” You huff. “Because they all look good!” Eddie exclaims.

You frown, resting your hands on your hips and tilting your head at him. Eddie shrugs, “I don’t know why you’re upset with me when it’s technically your fault.” He points out, to which you roll your eyes and jokingly throw a dress at his face.

It takes a while for you to decide; by the time you’ve figured it out, there’s about forty minutes until the event begins.

The dress you landed on is evil, to say the least.

It’s a black puffy babydoll-style dress, except instead of a poofy top half, it’s tight fitting and pushes your chest up to sit nice and pretty, and the straps are thin, and Eddie thinks about the sound you’d make if he just reached out and teasingly snapped it against your skin. Wants to coo when you squirm and mewl and press yourself into him.

And the dress is so short, long enough to cover everything, but you wouldn’t have to bend over very far to flash a lucky person, and the sight of your thighs makes Eddie’s head spin.

He doesn’t know where the courage comes from because Eddie is anything but bold when it comes to people he has ridiculous crushes on, but Eddie couldn’t help himself, watching you bent over the sink as you do your last touch-ups to your makeup, the way your silky thighs rub against one another when you shift to get closer to the mirror— Eddie didn’t stand a chance.

He’s behind you before he knows it, and you’re smiling at him through the mirror, “Almost done, promise.” You say.

Eddie lets his hand slink around your waist, dropping his head to nuzzle into your neck, brown eyes fluttering up to hold your gaze through the glass as he kisses your skin before playfully nipping at you. You squeal, curling away from him, and he smiles as you push at him. “You’re cute,” Eddie softly says, and he grins, teeth digging into his bottom lip when you shy away from his gaze, “So pretty.” He adds.

Eddie turns you to face him as he presses you against the bathroom sink. He seeks your lips, but you pout and shake your head, “My lipgloss.” 

Eddie huffs out a laugh, shaking his head before pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, careful not to catch any of the sticky application before sinking to his knees, hands gentle and greedy as they caress your thighs.

Eddie leans forward to kiss the inside of your knee, “Gonna let me taste you, honey?” He hums, leaning in the press a kiss further up the inside of your thigh. Your breath hitches, legs subconsciously spreading wider to accommodate Eddie. Your nails dig into the countertop as you shakily breathe, “W-we’re gonna be late,” You weakly say as Eddie lets his tongue draw shapes in your skin. Eddie hums, sucking the fat of your thigh into his mouth before leaving with a pop, lips brushing against your hot skin as he says, “I’ll be quick. Promise.”

He doesn’t wait for your response as he coasts his hands up your thighs to loop his fingers around the band of your panties, dragging them down your legs and helping you step out of them. 

Eddie doesn’t waste time then; he kisses a sloppy wet trail up the inside of your thigh, fingers digging into the fat of your skin and helping you spread open for him so he can nuzzle his head beneath the fluffy tulle of your dress and begin his task of devouring you. You’re wet, dripping, and throbbing for Eddie’s tongue, and this is the third time that Eddie has found himself licking into you, and god, it never gets fucking old.

The sounds you make, the way you writhe, the tiny gasps you give, and then the way your cunt pulses around his tongue— it’s the pinnacle of Eddie’s night, he already knows. 

“E-Eddie— oh,” Your breathy whine makes Eddie stuff his face further into your pussy, nose brushing against your clit as he thrusts his tongue into you, your hands scrambling down to sink into Eddie’s hair and tug.

And it took Eddie longer than he’d like to admit to get his hair slicked into the neat bun he’s sporting, but with his tongue plunged deep inside of you and your pretty moans filling his ears, Eddie can’t seem to care that you’re definitely messing up his hard work.

Eddie could spend eternity here, down on his knees, under the dress of your skirt, lapping at your pussy like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. And sure, Eddie makes this conclusion, like, every single time he finds himself between your legs, but can you blame him? You’re the sweetest thing he’s ever had the pleasure of dealing with.

You lift a leg to hook over Eddie’s shoulder, the heel of your foot pressing into his shoulder blade and pushing a moan from the depths of Eddie’s chest as he snuggles deeper into you, licking and sucking and nipping. 

“S-so close…” You whimper, thighs beginning to quiver on each side of Eddie’s head. He fixes his grip on your hips because Eddie wouldn’t dream of letting you fall in his presence, and you’re standing on your tiptoes when you fumble over the edge, crying out for Eddie as you soak his tongue.

Eddie’s moaning into you, fingers massaging and caressing the thick parts of your hips and thighs as he continues working you through your orgasm. You’re twitching and heavily breathing when Eddie parts his mouth from your slick folds, strings of arousal and spit snapping and falling to his chin. God, it makes Eddie ache in his pants.

He presses sweet and sticky kisses to the insides of your thighs, savoring every moment he has here, breathing you in, tasting you, feeling you, hearing you. He doesn’t doubt for a moment that he looks like a madman when he brings his head out from under your dress, and you giggle, pressing your hand to your lips.

Eddie wants to hear that noise on repeat. Put his headphones on and, like, clean his house or something. Let your giggles play on a constant loop until they’re engrained into the grooves of his brain so he never has to go a second without hearing them.

“What?” Eddie smiles, hands still under your dress and soothingly squeezing the shaky muscles of your thighs. Your eyes are glazed from pleasure, and you look warm as you speak, “I– your hair,” You laugh. You press the wispy curls of Eddie’s bangs back, “I’m so sorry. It looked so nice, and I messed it up.” You happily frown.

Eddie huffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your knee and shaking his head, “That’s okay,” He responds, reaching over for your panties to help you slip them back on. “It was for a good cause.” He winks.

Eddie doesn’t frequent fancy parties.

The fanciest event Eddie’s ever been to was a masquerade-themed dinner that he and Jeff snuck into because there were rumors of a big hit producer being there, which, big fucking shocker, they never found him since everyone was in a fucking mask. It was a waste of time, but at least they ate like kings that night.

Besides that, Eddie doesn’t go to fancy places— it’s just not his kind of scene. And it’s not like the event you’ve brought him to tonight is, like, Buckingham Palace tier, but everyone here looks like a million bucks and up, and Eddie’s not quite sure he’s up to that standard.

He would be more worried if you weren’t clinging to him like a koala bear and keeping him in light conversation.

You introduced Eddie to a few of your industry friends, and one or two of them even remembered Eddie from the films he’d done with you, which, Eddie doesn’t know why, but his head grew three times bigger in size from that. And for the most part, you keep to Eddie’s side, pointing out different people from across the room and telling him the lore behind them and whatnot as you share a plate of snacks.

And you love grapes, apparently, because Eddie’s had to get up and refill on them about three times now. “Do you want more?” Eddie asks when he realizes you’re almost done. You glance at him with a small smile as you nod, “I’ll get it this time, though. I want to try some of the cheese.”

So, Eddie nods and keeps an eye on you until the crowd obstructs his view. He busies himself with watching the room, tries to see if he can pick out anyone from any pornos he’s watched before he realizes that’s fucking weird and cringes at himself for being a perv. He finishes his glass of champagne, which Eddie isn’t a champagne guy, but it was either that or whiskey, and Eddie would rather not get shitfaced tonight.

And what’s taking you so long? You’ve been gone for a while now, and Eddie had first thought you maybe made a quick stop at the restrooms, but it’s been more than enough time, and he misses you (as fucking sappy as that is), so he gets up and makes his way to the food bar.

He’s got his empty flute in one hand and the other in his pocket, brown eyes softly scanning the room as he walks. And then he spots you, near the food where you said you’d be, with some guy talking to you, but something isn’t right. 

Eddie’s spent enough time with you now to be able to tell when you’re feeling uneasy just by the way you anxiously drag your nail against the length of your thumb, the way your eyes dart around, or the tense pull of your shoulders.

Your gaze lands on Eddie, and your eyes soften, and Eddie doesn’t even have to think twice before he walks over.

The man's back is facing Eddie, so he doesn’t see the curly-headed boy until he steps around and slinks an arm around your waist, pulling you close with a soft smile, “Been looking for you, sweets.” He presses a kiss to your forehead as you sink into him.

“Mm, just catching up with..a friend.” 

Eddie doesn’t miss the pause. He looks over to the man you’d been talking to, and you take a breath, “Eddie, this is Chris, a coworker.” You introduce the man. And Eddie remembers that name; he thinks he remembers seeing it on the script of the last film you and Eddie did together— the one where you’d asked Eddie to take over because the other guy was an asshole.

Chris reaches out a hand, “Chris. You must be a good friend of hers?”

Eddie doesn’t like that. Doesn’t like that he doesn’t refer to you by your name, or the smug grin on his face, or the sly tone in his voice when he says it. 

And Eddie doesn’t know why he does it, okay. He doesn’t know why the words fly out of his mouth or why he didn’t, like, think it through, but suddenly, Eddie’s introducing himself as your boyfriend. Which, Eddie is not your boyfriend. And you’re not his girlfriend.

Eddie would love to be your boyfriend, and he’d love for you to be his girlfriend, but— but you’re not. So, Eddie doesn’t know why he does it, but he does, and god, it’s comedic how the guy's face falls. Eddie can feel your gaze on him, and he panics a little because what if Eddie just crossed the line big time?

Chris’s gaze flickers to you, and his brows raise as you look at him, “So, I take it this is why you’re only doing solo content now?”

Which, fucking gross. That’s definitely none of this meathead guy's business! So what if you’re making solo content only? And why does he know, and why does he care? God, this guy’s a creep.

But also… why are you only doing solo content? Eddie can’t help but wonder. Did something happen? Was it this asshole's fault? Eddie will kill him if he has anything to do with it. You and Eddie have become so close; you tell each other everything about everything, so why didn’t you tell him about this? It’s not a big deal or whatever, but—

“Does it matter?” Shit, Eddie didn’t mean to say that out loud.

You’re both looking at Eddie in shock, and Eddie just blinks and waits for an answer.

You take in a deep breath, arm squeezing around Eddie’s as you answer— since this guy can’t take a fucking hint, “Yeah, actually, it is. Just didn’t feel right.” You shrug.

The guy nods, pursing his lips together, “Fair enough. Well, if that ever changes, you know where to find me.” He winks before turning around and leaving. Eddie cringes, and he almost steps forward to say something, to tell him to fuck off somewhere, but your grip tightens around his arms, and Eddie understands that you just want the conversation to be over.

Eddie’s quickly turning his attention to you, though, when you press yourself into his side, “Thank you.” You sweetly say.

Eddie nods, a warm hand reaching up to squeeze your hand that's resting over his bicep, “Don’t sweat it, princess. That guy’s a douche.” And you huff, nodding your head, “Yeah. You definitely scared him, though. It was pretty hot.”

Eddie tries not to let that get to his head. 

He fails.

The rest of the night goes well with fewer dickhead run-ins and more grapes, and Eddie is more than Elated when you say it’s time to go.

The ride home is pleasant, and you’ve been extra cuddly all night, so Eddie’s heart is practically the size of Texas when you bring his hand into your lap and slink your fingers together. You’re spending the night, so Eddie’s kind of excited to get in bed and snuggle until you both pass out— but then Eddie’s thrown in for a loop when you both get under his covers.

Banshee is busy in her bakery down at the foot of the bed, kneading little biscuits in preparation for her sleep, and you’re fresh-faced and wrapped in one of Eddie’s shirts when you look over at him with a teasing look, “So,” you start, “You’re my boyfriend.”

Eddie blinks at you, wishing the bed would just let him sink in and become one with the mattress. “Oh god,” He groans, pressing his hands to his face, “I’m sorry, it just came out! That guy was being a dick, and it was the first thing that I thought of, and— god, I’m sorry.” He drags his hands over his face and shoots you an empathetic look. “You can totally, like, kick me in the nuts.”

And Eddie kind of braces himself for you to chew him out or something; tell him he’s a weirdo, and he’ll never in a million years get to call himself your boyfriend because you’re way out of his league. But then you giggle. 

And it’s not the teasing ‘get a load of this loser’ giggle— no, it’s your sweet, kind, and adoring giggle.

“No, no. I was… I was wondering when you would ask, actually.”

Eddie’s never turned his head so fast. He thinks he imagined you saying it, like, maybe he drank too much champagne even though he literally only had less than two full glasses the entire night. “Huh? I– w-what do you mean?” Eddie gapes. “Like… like, ask you to be my girlfriend?”

And you’re so cute as you shyly nod, glancing at Eddie with this expectant gaze.

“Shit, well uh, I-I wanted to ask you in like a bigger way. Like flowers and shit because I… well, I really like you, and it’s what you deserve and—”

You cut Eddie off with a laugh and scoot closer to him, and if Eddie’s heart beats any faster, he might die. “Eddie,” You lowly and softly say, holding his gaze. Eddie nods, eyes darting down to your lips as he holds his breath. “Will you be my boyfriend?”

Shit, Eddie’s never said yes so quickly in his life.

————

a/n: HELLOOO! if you have made it to the end of this awfully long baby i am so thankful and appreciative of you, these two are my babies so I hope you enjoyed them as much as I've enjoyed my time with them <3 as always, thank u for reading and being here, i love and appreciate any feedback, ILYSM MWAH <3

————

cutie teeny taglist: @vol2eddie @paleidiot @hideoutside

[hellsitegenetics]

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PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT ─── cillian murphy ✧𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “I am turned inside out by the ache in your voice, the taste of your tongue." — ‘Afternoon Masala: Poems’, Vandana Khanna

pairing. cillian murphy x actor!reader

summary. you and your co-star, cillian, are having a hard time performing a sex scene for your movie. they do say, however, practice makes perfect.

warnings. swearing, thigh-riding, creampie, p in v, unprotected sex, mentioned/implied age gap, probably inaccurate depictions of actor-life, mirror sex, slight breeding kink, kinda innocent reader(?), AU cillian murphy (not married/no kids), SMUT UNDER THE CUT! 

word count. 4.5k

a/n. this is not in any way meant to disrespect cillians wife😭 i js made this a not married AU to be convenient!

i.

“Cut - cut, cut!” The director repeated, his increasing irritation colouring his voice completely. “Now, I said it earlier, but—“

You scrubbed your face with a sigh, getting up off of Cillian and the desk, who was propping himself up by the elbows. “It’s not passionate enough,” you finished flatly for your director, who nodded earnestly. 

“I promise, this is as tiring for me as it is for you. Remember,” the director continued, the script half curled in his hands and making a thin flapping noise, “it’s the culmination of six months of pining. Six months of taboo, unrelenting, electric tension. Nothing more than stares in class and brief touches- you are supposed to be bordering feral for one another.”

You, and your co-star, Cillian, were currently filming the first sex scene of a movie portraying the forbidden, toxic love affair between a barely 18 teenage student and her much older teacher. Well, not exactly filming- you weren’t getting far with the scene, for the two of you just couldn’t get it right. Or, as the director liked to say, passionate enough. 

The role was already incredibly taxing, even without the added stress of the sex scene: it was 20 hour work days, living on set in a trailer far from home, having to devote at least half of those hours to filming this very sex scene, and had a perfectionist director like yours. 

The problem was that it was long, and the director wanted it done in one take. Brilliant man, he was, and had a love for this project you wished every director had for theirs, but he was adamant on it being done perfectly. He said it was intended to be the “primary and most iconic” scene of the entire film, for it was the crux of the story; the point of no return for the characters. 

“With all due respect, I’ve never imagined such a scenario, much less had experience. Just how can you expect me to portray a student-teacher romance accurately?“

“That’s your job: to imagine and perform.” The director demanded, obviously up to his ears in frustration.

Just before you retorted irately, Cillian cut in smoothly. “I think what she means,” he said, watching the veins in the director’s forehead nearly burst, “is that it’s hard to perform because it’s not common. S’easy to act in love because there’s love all around, yeah? We don’t have much to go off of, visually.”

The director’s gaze rapidly flitted between you and Cillian for a moment, before letting go of his anger and sighing wearily. “You’ve never even thought about a superior that way? Someone older than you?” he pressed, obviously joking and trying to lighten the set’s mood. 

You paused, and tried not to look at Cillian, your blatantly gorgeous forty-something co-star who was chosen for this role firstly, because of his stellar acting and secondly, because of how fucking attractive he was. 

His character was a total fucking creep, and you knew casting Cillian had been a calculated choice; all in the name of making the audience’s guard come down to be smacked in the face by his immorality later. He was meant to be charming, handsome, and terribly, totally, off-limits: the object of completely forbidden desire, the line your character was desperate to cross. 

It seemed the same in real life, too: the young inexperienced actress wanting to ignore those societal niceties and pine wholeheartedly over the middle-aged actor with decades of knowledge under his belt. 

You weren’t, like, in love or anything, but you certainly reveled in his presence: he was patient, kind, and completely understanding of your lack of experience, always guiding you through all the steps an actor takes during filming like when to take off hair and makeup, what best to say to family and friends prying for details- all the things, he said, he wished someone told him when he was first starting out. 

You were afraid you two had unknowingly fallen into a mentor-mentee dynamic, but there were always those spare moments, between hearty fits of laughter and silly conversation that you’d never expected to come from such an intimidating man as Cillian, where his rough hands would brush past your waist, gaze dragging up and down your body, sounding sensual and provocative despite nothing dirty leaving his mouth at all. 

He made your insides pulse, especially when your more intimate scenes came about, and you could only have a lusting woman’s pipedream that he felt the same. 

You still remember the first sequence you’d done with him: in the movie, your characters met after-class to make up for a missed exam, and it was the start of their corrupt attraction. Cillian had been pressed against your back, leaning over you to pressuringly peer at the test, large hand gripping your shoulder. The air felt steamy then, his body warm, low voice making you feel lightheaded as he recited his lines. 

You shivered at the remembrance of the moment, coming back to reality, and you answered the director’s question with a vehement shake of the head. 

The director let out a (strained) laugh, and smacked his palm lightly with the script, shoulders slumping. “Okay. Okay, we’ll - we’ll break for today. Take this extra time to imagine, research, anything- just practice the scene, alright? Practice makes perfect.” 

You and Cillian nodded simultaneously, giving eachother a look that just screamed “he’s ridiculous” before tearing away from each other's stare to return to your trailers. 

Later, you were getting ready to go to bed, peeling your freshly showered hair out of a small towel, when there was a knock at your trailer door. 

“One second,” you called out, pulling on your silk sleep shorts. You vaguely registered how awkward it might be to be seen in your pajamas if the director or one of your fellow actors came about, but you were way too tired to care. 

You did care, however, self-consciously crossing your arms and covering your thinly-clothed chest, when you opened the door and there on the steps stood your co-star, Cillian.

Before speaking, he looked you up and down, icy blue eyes gleaming behind an unfamiliar pair of tortoise shell frames. “You goin’ to bed?” he finally asked, tone husky. 

His gaze lingered on the bare skin of your legs for a few seconds longer and you shifted uncomfortably, crossing your ankles together in a poor attempt to hide yourself. 

“What do you need?” you asked briskly, more sharp than you meant it to be. 

“Sorry,” he corrected himself, shaking his head and finally looking you in the eye. “I meant’a come by earlier… got caught up. I know this, ah, sex scene is tripping us up, so…” he trailed off, lifting up the white script he’d been holding behind his back. “Y’up for some practice?”

You blinked rapidly at the simple, innocent request. Mere rehearsal, not some lecherous late-night escapade you’d been dreaming up in your mind. “Oh… yes, of course,” you nodded numbly, moving out of the way to let him step in. 

Only moments later, when he’d perched onto the edge of your vanity — looking uniquely casual in what you assumed was his version of pajamas: baggy gray sweatpants and a fitted, well-worn black t-shirt — did you realize the connotations of rehearsing your sex scene. 

Sure, it was all pre-determined, every word you’d say and every action you’d perform, but still. Saying- and doing, such suggestive things after-hours? That was beyond your dirtiest fantasies.

However, you shook yourself internally: Cillian had come to rehearse the scene with professional intentions. Honestly, he’d probably done so because he was tired of you messing up the scene. He could do his own part masterfully, and you knew that if it’d been a better, more experienced actress by his side, filming would’ve moved on ages ago. 

You took shaky, tentative steps near him, settling on your bed, watching him flip through the script— when he looked up and frowned. 

“What’re you doing? Come here,” he gestured for you to come closer, almost a command. “We don’t have a desk, so we can use your vanity.”

You nodded, biting your lip and nervously complying with his words. “So, we’ll start from the beginning?” you asked, your voice -- and legs -- suddenly feeling terribly weak.

His eyes were still trained on the paper as he answered. “Not necessarily. The sex part s’really the only thing we’re having trouble with, yeah?” 

You gulped, throat dry. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

With that, he chanced one last look at the script, before diving into the scene. His actions were ones you were extremely familiar with, having attempted this scene everyday for at least a week now. 

His body turned to yours, hands coming up to your jaw, and pressing your back onto the table slightly. He held you tightly, and made you look at him, while delivering his lines softly, memorable Irish accent replaced by his character’s generic American one.

Jiltedly, you did the same, poorly remembering what you needed to say and dragging through it like some amateur. “Fuck, sorry,” you cursed suddenly, tearing away from his touch and sighing. 

He gave you a small, careful smile, immediately breaking out of character and taking a step away from the vanity. “No need t’be nervous. Practice makes perfect, right?” 

You snorted at his quoting of the director. “I just… I don’t know what he means by passionate. I’m trying to be professional about this but - but I’ve seriously never been in some steamy love-affair.”

“Can’t really expect that of you, can we? You’re too young, too much’ve a good girl for that kinda ‘ting.” He said, hand coming up to your shoulder, the one where your silk tanktop’s spaghetti strap had slipped off, rubbing it soothingly. 

You practically melted into a puddle at both the pet name and how the rough pads of his fingers brushed against your sensitive skin. You were so entranced you almost whined when he stopped and pulled up your fallen strap, but instead you wordlessly snatched the script that was dropped onto the table and found one of the lines, inhaling sharply and readying yourself. 

Your hand came up to tug on the sleeve of Cillian’s shirt, as dictated by the script. “Sir, please,” you whispered out in your character’s high pitched voice, “I - I… want you to touch me.”

“This is -- wrong. I’m your teacher, and I…” Cillian responded, swiftly back in character, the back of his palm grazing your cheek. “I gotta break your heart, darling.”

You looked up at Cillian, summoning crocodile tears to fill your gaze. “Please. I need you.” Then, one of your clammy hands ran down Cillian’s chest as you spoke, like it did back on set. “I think of you, at night. I soaked through my shorts the day you scolded me.”

You heard Cillian’s breath hitch- his character, you reminded yourself. “Fucking hell… I think of you in class, sweetheart,” he growled out perfectly. 

So far, so good, you thought. It wasn’t awkward, and was already miles better than the lackluster performances you’d given previously. You continued by leaning into Cillian’s touch, making him sit on the vanity— the part of the scene you’d gotten to this morning, before the director called cut.

This time, however, Cillian’s actions differed from the ones he was supposed to perform: instead of petting the crown of your head, his fingers trailed down your hips, sending shivers down your spine.

“I’ll be good for you, sir,” you recited, face growing hot as his hand inched closer to the curve of your ass. “You can do whatever you want to me.”

Cillian’s gaze had darkened now, flitting over your features. He didn’t say his line - or, had at least missed the timing, and you removed your hands from his body worriedly. “Are you alright—“

Before you could finish your sentence, Cillian had grabbed you by the ass, switching your places and setting you down on the edge of the vanity. 

“Cillian!“ you squeaked out, the only thing you could really say as you processed what exactly just happened. Your mind was swimming with confusion — and anticipation — as he stood before you, legs pressing on either side of your knees and trapping you on the vanity.��

“Improv,” he promised quietly in his telltale Irish accent, a sly wink appearing on his sharp features. 

You bit your lip, nodded, and repeated your line. You trusted him to guide you — and the rehearsal — because, as mentioned before, he did these kinds of things often. If he thought you’d act better if you sat on the vanity, you’d sit on the vanity. 

His hand then pet your hair, the other hand coming up to your chin and making you look up at him. “Whatever I want?” he murmured, back on track with the script. 

You bat your lashes at him. “Everything. I’m yours.”

Now, this is where you thought Cillian would stop— because after your line came the kissing and the touching and the heavy petting: all things you thus far hadn’t filmed at all, because you couldn’t even get the dialogue out right. 

Instead, he leaned down and began to press hungry kisses down your neck, making you gasp.

“What are you—“

“Shh,” he demanded softly, “it's all part of the scene, remember?”

You blinked dumbly, mouth opening and closing, unable to register a coherent thought or word. He said it was part of the scene but you’d read that script, and his teeth nipping lightly at your skin was not written anywhere within it.

But, you gulped down your thoughts, and belted out several more of your lines in tandem to his own. With his other hand gripping your thigh so tight you thought it might bruise, you were starting to think that maybe this was one of those lecherous late-night escapades you were dreaming of. 

All you’d been doing was acting, like he’d asked, but still, you could see clear as day how that’d affect him— how easily it could be to succumb. After all, you were just barely restraining yourself from jumping his bones: how could you not, with his gorgeous face just inches away from yours?

Well, acting or not, you’d enjoy every minute of this.

When one of his hands began playing with the waistband of your shorts as he suckled on your pulse, that just right spot on your neck, you couldn’t help the whimper that left your mouth. 

However, the noise seemed to startle him; jumpshock him back to reality, and your suspicions became completely confirmed when he pulled away from you roughly. 

“Fuck, I’m—“ a pained grimace washed over his features, looking you up and down like he just realized what he’d been doing. “I don’t know what came over me, I— shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have come here tonight.”

You stared at him, body disappointed at the lack of touch, watching him press his pink lips into a conflicted white line. “What - what d’you mean?”

His gaze coursed over your every feature, so intently you thought he was admiring your face. “I can’t— we can’t happen. Y’too young, you’re, you’re too…”

“Then we can stop. If that’s what you want,” you murmured coyly, hand coming up to pick a piece of thread off his thin shirt. “But only if you ask. C’mon, say it: I don’t want you and I want this to stop.”

He groaned, biting his lip. “Don’t do that. I can’t do that.”

“Do what?” You tilted your head to the side. 

“Tease. Because you know I won’t tell you to stop. ‘Cause I won’t be able to fucking control m’self,” he grumbled, before pressing a desperate, deep kiss to your lips, pulling you off the vanity and continuing down your chest.

“Then don’t. Take me for everything I have,” you whined, following his every move and manhandling touch. 

He breathed heavily between kisses. “Saying those kinds’a words with that pretty voice of yours… fuck, you’re doing things to me.” 

Your hands were trailing all over his body, and then you tugged his shirt off, desperate to feel him. He had similar thoughts, fingers dipping into your silk shorts and petting your hot mound. 

“Need you,” you panted, and, at your words, he suddenly tore off your silk shorts and panties in one clean go, making you shiver.

He then sat down on your vanity chair and roughly grabbed you by the hips to place yourself onto one of his thighs. The thick fabric of his sweatpants, taking in your wetness like a sponge, made you wince.

“Go on then,” he demanded darkly, “get y’self off on my fucking thigh. Show me how bad you need me.”

You bit your lip, face burning with shame at the order. But there was an aching need in your gut, and the way he crossed his arms, watching and waiting for you to get the hell on with it, had you clenching around his thigh.

Your hands gripped onto his shoulders, and you began slowly rutting against him, the soft fabric of his pants doing poor work for pleasuring your core. You pressed your face into his shoulder, screwed up at the lack of friction. 

“Can’t do it,” you whined, “Please.” 

He rolled his eyes. “You said you needed me. You’ve got me,” he gestured to his thigh, “so get to work.” Then, he suddenly flexed, making an unwarranted mewl leave your mouth.

You wanted nothing more than his fucking cock, but here you were, pathetically pleasuring yourself on his thigh until he allowed otherwise. You nodded resignedly, and dug your fingernails into his shoulders, starting to set a steady pace of grinding down on him, slowly building up the heat within your insides. 

You were moaning now, vigorously dragging your hips against him harder, needier, feeling the pressure in your cunt grow hotter and more rampant. 

“Y’hear that?” He asked, one of his fingers tilting your chin back up to face him. “D’you even realize how fucking delicious you sound, all needy f’me?”

You nodded, but weren’t really paying attention: you were closer than ever, just moments away from falling off the edge— when Cillian stopped you. 

“Stop,” he spoke, voice filled with sheer lust, and you whimpered at the abrupt loss of momentum. Then, he got up, holding you against him by the waist, looking down at his sweatpants. “You made such a mess… soaked all over m’pants.”

You didn’t — no, couldn’t respond to his musings, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to return friction to your needy pussy, biting down on your lip to muffle your breathy pants. 

He noticed this, however, smirking and quickly pressing you stomach down onto the vanity. You caught a glimpse of yourself for the first time since your shower, and you flushed with shame: your eyes were heavy-lidded and dilated, lips pink and slick with drool, your brows in a perpetual knit.

You looked fucking filthy, and when you felt Cillian press his thick head to your entrance, something you hadn’t noticed he’d pulled out, too enraptured in your dirty expression, you shut your eyes. 

You were suddenly so much more aware of the situation: you’d fucked yourself silly on your co-stars thigh, the co-star who was twice your age. He now knew you weren’t a talented aspiring actress, no, you were just a desperate little thing begging to be fucked. 

“Hey, hey,” He tutted in mock-disappointment, “open your eyes, and fucking watch yourself. It’ll be good for our scene.”

You whimpered helplessly, obeying him and fluttering your eyes open, as he pushed his cock past your dripping folds inch by inch. 

“Oh my god,” you cried out when he finally pressed all the way in. You felt so full, stretched to the brim with his hardened cock, so deep his balls touched your sticky clit.

“So fucking wet,” he commented, chuckling darkly behind you. You were totally slick, helping him enter you faster, but his cock was still a foreign intrusion to your inexperienced cunt: you were young, and had never been the type to “get around” — at least not with the intentions of getting fucked so much you could take any length of dick easily. 

You clenched around him, a groan leaving his mouth at the increased pressure around his cock, and he snapped into you, making you bounce forward as your lips parted with a sweet moan. 

You’d been focussed on his face, in the mirror, but Cillian’s hand suddenly tangled through your hair, grabbing a fistful of it and lifting your head to face yourself. “I told you to fucking watch yourself,” he spat, gripping your hair tightly. “you’re the reason we can’t wrap up, so do your job and fuckin’ practice.”

With that, Cillian started pounding into you, digging the rough pads of his fingers into your hip, and you would’ve protested such a fast progression — having been given barely any time to get used to his long cock — but your expression was even worse than before, if that was even possible. 

Your mouth was open, tongue out and panting like a fucking dog, your lustfully sticky spit spilling down your chin to your chest, and your eyes were rolling into the back of your head with each hearty thrust Cillian delivered you. The sounds you were making weren’t helping your embarrassment either, all unintelligible mewls and needy whines for his cock. 

“You’ve wanted me for so long, haven’t you? I always knew what a filthy desperate girl you were, pressing up against me during shooting… those naughty hands on my thighs,” he snickered. 

“Needed you in me so bad,” you whimpered, nodding enthusiastically, barely able to register what you were doing now with the pleasure washing over you and clouding your senses. Your back was arching into him, sucking in his cock and never wanting him to leave despite the mind-breaking ecstasy that was coming from his pounding. 

“Just look at your dirty fuckin’ face… so pathetic.” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek; sweet and lovely, a stark juxtaposition to his unrelenting rutting and degrading words. 

You whined at his words, but you knew they were true: you’d never seen yourself get fucked, always too busy with, well, getting fucked, but seeing yourself in the mirror like this had you unexpectedly hotter than before. There was just something about it, your face unabashedly contorting around the pleasure, Cillian’s hands snaking up your body as he rammed into you in the background. 

Kind of like your own personal porno, you thought offhandedly, and you wondered how it’d affect you if you filmed yourself. Hopefully, with Cillian. 

His other hand then came up to your folds, spreading them apart so he could see himself disappear into your hole. “Fuck, your cunt’s so perfect,” he growled, his head falling back, losing himself in the pleasure. 

The orgasm building in your gut wasn’t like the one when you’d been grinding down on his thick thigh, no, it came faster, making you sweat and your knees shake. You wanted more, and you gasped out “faster,” and “harder,” to Cillian, needing him in the stick spongy spot deep in your cunt. 

“Please,” you begged without any expectation of a real answer or action, “please, Cillian, please.”

He did go faster, though, to your apparent shock, both hands coming to your thighs to steady himself. “So needy,” he grumbled, pushing himself deeper and more swiftly into you, feeling how deliciously your fleshy walls tightened around his new pace. 

With that, your high came just as quick, hitting you like a fucking freight train and making you scream out his name. Your orgasm wrecked you, made your vision go white and your thoughts stutter to a complete halt, and you vaguely made out Cillian’s proud hum, whispering “Good girl,” in your ear. 

When you came to, your head was hanging low, your eyes blown out, lips puffy. Cillian was still thrusting into your worn-out pussy, but it was more jilted, shaky and needy. 

“Come in me,” you pleaded suddenly, gripping the vanity to keep your trembling legs up, “fill me up, please, make your come spill out of me.”

“Good god, girl,” he groaned, pounding one last thrust into you before letting go, his cock pulsing around your wet core. He was pressed up to you so deep you could feel him shoot his load right into your cervix, and you grinned weakly, a sweet image of you: knocked up with his kid, your cunt so young and fertile you’d get pregnant from just about anything from him, entering your mind. 

After a moment, he slipped his softening cock out of your filthy cunt and picked you up by the waist to set you down on the vanity and keep you from falling onto the floor. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled, looking up at him through your lashes. You then bit your lip, feeling his thick load of creamy come ooze out of your used hole onto your vanity. 

He noticed too, letting out a satisfied groan, spreading your legs lightly, before collecting himself on his finger and pushing his come back into your cunt. “Such a good girl,” he reiterated, going back to being sweet and petting your hair, doting on your weak form, looking deep into your eyes. 

You swooned at his delicate actions. “Is this a good time to say I like you?” 

He laughed, all adoringly. “It’s as good a time as any. I like you, too, if it’s any consolation.” 

“But you, y’know… you said I was too young,” you reminded him, frowning slightly. 

He sighed, gaze drifting away nervously for a moment before coming back to you. “That I did, but, well… if you wanna take this old man for a ride before I keel over,” he shrugged.

You couldn’t help the laugh that belted out of you, his words so ridiculous and completely not based in reality. “Oh, sure,” you said, shaking your head, lips still in an amused tilt, “you’re mine, old man.”

Before he could speak, probably say another stupid joke, your hands wrapped around his neck and you pulled him toward you, pressing a soft kiss to his plump lips. 

“I like you like you, okay?” You whispered, sounding incredibly juvenile but twice as heartfelt, your tone wavering and self-conscious. You were bearing your heart on your sleeve here, okay, acknowledging feelings you thought should never come to light. 

His hands came up to your face, gently holding you. “Good thing I like you like you, too.”

ii.

“Cut!” The director called, and you swore you felt your heart drop to the floor. Fuck, you thought, mind racing, what went wrong this time? Was it the kissing, or the hands in the hair?

However, the director came up to you and Cillian and let out an uncharacteristic shriek of delight. “Perfection,” he said simply, bordering on catatonic with how content he was. 

Your shoulders slumped with relief, and you leaned into Cillian, who was subtly dancing his fingers across your thigh. “It’s finished?” you asked, breathless with excitement.

The director nodded. “That was electric, needy, tense, delicious, passionate, so, so passionate,” he continued with a gasp, hands clasping together tightly.  “You are two of the most amazing actors I have ever worked with— you are incredibly talented, so convincing I’d have thought you did sleep together.” 

You preened at his praise, but not without looking up at Cillian, meeting his gaze and barely keeping your expression happy and neutral and not at all warm at the thought of the other night's events. 

As the director went off rambling about the utter masterpiece the movie was to be, Cillian trailed behind you off the set, murmuring lowly in your ear, “I guess practice does make perfect.”

[cheriladycl01]

Kinktober 24/10/2024 Lando Norris - Humping/ ThighJob

Plot: You and Lando are great multitaskers

Warnings: Kinktober, SMUT, thighjob, humping, etc 18+ Minors DNI

You and Lando were very busy people. Him going round the world for the majority of the year driving fast cars and you acting in your tv shows and movies as an up and coming actress.

That’s actually how you met Lando. A very long winded funny way but hey always say people are out in the same place at the same time for a reason and that is something you both loved by.

You’d taken on a role in the Gran Turismo Movie, as the girlfriend to Jann and it was an incredible experience working with all these amazing actors and being involved in cars.

Here you met Geri, who was a co-star of yours and that ended up meaning you met Christian Horner at the movie premiere. You’d gotten talking to him about all that you’d learnt about cars and how it fascinated you which led him to inviting you with RedBull to the paddock which is where you’d met and the rest was history.

Your relationship where you were both travelling so much was a little strained. You tried to go to as many races as possible which normally was at least half of the calendar.

So when you guys were together you were both incredibly clingy. Always around one another always trying to get some kind of physical contact.

That was where you guys struggled in intimacy too, a lot of your time was spent on dates and making sure to spend as much time together as possible that you were often very exhausted or still too busy to do anything or a sexual nature.

So a lot of the time you’d do things that worked around both your tight schedules.

Like right now, he was working on his sim racing and you were incredibly horny and needy for him. So you plopped yourself over him, straddling his thigh covered in his Quadrant tracksuit bottoms. You were bare, you’d made sure to come in like that. He was just doing laps for the upcoming race in Monza, so he didn’t have any issues you joining him.

You stayed there, kissing along his neck bringing moans out of him. His arms circled around you to grab the wheel restarting the sim. You start to move your hips up and down, and you can already feel a wet spot growing in his tracksuit bottoms. Your hips moved in tandem up and down little breathy gasps and moans coming from you mouth as you feel the pressure scrape along your sensitive clit.

“Fuck Lan” you moan into him and your hips speed up a bit. His leg also moves every now and then when he breaks going round a corner and jiggles when the other accelerates.

“Your such a good girl. Little multitasker” he smiles, as he finishes another really good lap time. He knew the circuit well enough that he could probably do it blindfolded so even having his insanely hot girlfriend above him couldn’t make him forget the racing line.

“I’m gonna, fuck” you moan as you speed up. His hands come down you your hips helping you move back and forth, the scrape against him delicious and insatiable.

“That’s it, cum for me gorgeous. Getting yourself of on my thigh like that. Such a good girl” he complements.

But it wasn’t just you who found pleasure in humping, especially against his thigh. There was many times where he’d be eating you out, as it was one of his favourite things to do to you, and he’d get so into it he’d start thrusting his hips into the bed, getting the needed pressure on his cock.

Usually it was you coming all over his face that had him creaming his pants, and looking at the dark spot against his boxers or joggers however far he’d gotten stripping his own clothes off.

The most recent time was when you were laying on the sofa, your script for you upcoming film where you’d gotten the lead role in front of you.

You were playing Poppy in You and Me on Vacation with Tom Blyth as Alex and you were so excited as there were so many different filming locations you could go to and strangely the schedule fit in really well with Lando’s races. You’d be filming a lot of the Florida scenes just after Miami so you could watch that race and would have plenty of time to go to the next one.

He is in the mood and you were actually pretty sore from the night before where he’d absolutely been a feral wild dog.

You were just rereading the scenes making sure you had Poppy’s vibe down, as you’d read the book and spoken to the author herself. When Lando came up behind you.

He lifted your thighs and hips up so you were sort of in doggy styled which made you groan ready to protest that you weren’t ready for sex as you were still exhausted after last night.

“I know baby, is it okay if I just use those pretty thighs of yours. I just need you so bad but I know we went hard last night!” He whines in a pleading way that had your head turning round to try and look at him over your shoulder.

“And that didn’t take the beast enough?” You ask wide eyes and he shakes his head with a guilty look.

“Argh fine go ahead just don’t distract me from the script. I need to read my lines out loud.

“Why don’t you move into one of those sex scenes huh?” He asks lightly biting the top bit of your ear making you giggle.

“Alright hmmmm I can’t remember where they have sex” you say flicking through the script until you find it.

“Will you actually have to have sex with this guy?” Lando asks looking at you.

“No you weirdo it’s all acting and we have stuff like in between us” you tell him with a laugh as you feel him slip his cock between your thighs. You squeeze them together and hear him moan above you as you start talking him through the sex scene you were supposed to perform with Tom.

His thrusts speed up as you talk him through the actions and what is being said until he pulls back his cum spurting into the back of your thighs as he sighs with a little whine.

“Thanks baby, you’re the best” he smiles, grabbing a tissue from the table to help clean you up. You highlight stuff in the scrip that you consider valuable information before you feel Lando’s weight on top of you.

“I love you so much. Thank you for always making time for me” you say genuinely closing the script and holding his hand that is on your forearm.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[sparklingchim]

too hot to handle;m | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 5.3k

rating: 18+

genre: hockeyplayer!jungkook, richgirlie!oc, brother’s best friend, college!au, fwb

warnings: belly button smoochies !!!!, they banter a lot hihi, oral (m receiving), protected sex, dick slaps on the face 🫢, mentions of underage drinking, spanking, spitting, dirty talk, oc loves reality tv shows & jk just puts up w it, groping, praise, a sprinkle of jealousy😋, INTRODUCING A KITTY CAT !!!! pls she is the cutest <3

summary: pov: it's a hot summer day, and naturally, your brother's best friend can't take his eyes off your scantily clad body.

a/n: wow it's been so long!! but here's a lil summer fic!! love u hope u like it MWAH 😙

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

“I can’t believe those people can’t keep their dick in for just a little while.” Jungkook tilts his head in a disapproving way. “There’s so much money at stake and you're risking it just cause you’re horny?”

You silently giggle at the way his brows knit. The judgement that contorts his face is the exact opposite of his earlier claims that he doesn’t care about silly reality tv shows that are obviously pre-arranged and scripted.

“Oh, don’t act like it’d be easy for you.” You poke his calf with your foot. “You’re a very horny person, Jungkook.” You look up at him with your chin resting against his bare chest and give him a pointed look.

His bottom lip juts out as he ponders your words. “I don’t think so,” he finally says.

You gasp in mock surprise, pushing yourself away from with your palms against shoulders. You lie nearly completely on top of him, one leg thrown across his body. “That is a bold statement coming from you.”

Jungkook toys with the strap of your lacy camisole. “Honestly, I think you are hornier than me.”

You blink multiple times. “Me?” You point to yourself. “No, it’s you.” You nudge his bare, husky chest with your nail – you got your nails done for summer, the tips are painted in the cutest pastel colours.

He catches your finger and swiftly interlaces his hand with yours. “Nuh-uh. It’s not me,” he denies. “Who was the one to initiate things between us?”

“That has nothing to do with this,” you argue. “You just never initiated anything because you’re scared of my brother.” A mischievous twinkle unfolds in your eyes. Jungkook should be paid for the obnoxious number of times he has to put up with your bratty ass.

Jungkook rolls his pretty eyes. “I wouldn’t be on his fucking couch cuddling with his sister if I was scared, hm?” He looks across the hallway, pointing with his chin to Taehyung’s room. “Where even is he?”

“I dunno. Said he’d come home late.”

His fingers slip away from yours and he holds his palm against yours.

“You’ve got long fingers,” you say, staring at the size difference.

“Your nails are pretty.” He mindlessly brushes his fingers over them.

You excitedly tap your fingertips against his hand. “I know, right? Thank you!” You lean down and give his belly button a kiss.

“Another one?”

You giggle foolishly, planting another smooch on his tummy. Then you rest your head on his belly and refocus on the show playing on the television.

His palm lies on the small of your back, thumb gently stroking your exposed skin. “You were, like, all over me, though. Last year, I mean.”

“Excuse me?” you turn your head.

“Last year during summer break, when Taehyung and I surprised you.”

“I know what you mean,” you tell him. You drop his hand on his lap, a frown blossoming on your face. “But that was not the case at all.”

Okay, perhaps he is correct – but to your defence, you were struggling with your first real heartbreak around that time and needed a little distraction.

“I just wanted to get the charger and leave,” he argues with a pout, playing all innocent with those damned doe eyes

“No.” You give him an appalled look. “You were literally standing in my room staring at me.”

“Well, I didn’t expect to find you like that.”

“You barged into my room, what were you expe-”

“I didn’t barge into your room,” he clarifies. “Your door was ajar, so I assumed you’d be decent.”

You shake your head disapprovingly. “Knocking is basic etiquette.”

“Whatever,” he sighs and his hand on your back sneaks beneath your top. “You initiated it, though. Practically threw yourself at me.”

You scoff, frowning up at him. “Need a trip down memory lane?”

Jungkook smirks amusedly. His dimple pops out adorably. “What?” He twirls a strand of your hair around his finger. “Wanna show me what we did?”

You roll your eyes, despite your heart skipping a beat. “You wouldn’t last a second on the show.” You tilt your head towards the flat screen tv.

“I have a hot girl in my arms – gonna blame a boy for trying?”

Jungkook clearly knows how to get you. And you hate that he knows when he’s got you. His smile grows bigger and his hand wanders down to your ass, barely covered with your tiny shorts, and delivers a little smack.

“C’mere,” he whispers and pulls you on top of him. “Wanna make you scream louder than you did earlier.”

~

one year ago

For you, summer doesn’t quite begin until it’s the perfect day to lie on the sun lounger in a cute bikini, sipping on a cold drink and bask in the gentle warmth with good music in your ears. It’s the perfect way to relax and unwind.

Lucky for you, today is one of those summer days – just perfect enough to spend the entire day resting by the pool. The sun is high in the sky, casting a warm glow on your skin.

Better than Revenge by Taylor Swift is blasting through your phone while you placidly flip the page of a memoir about love.

As you look up from the book, you notice that your little grey cat Moon has left your lap. She was sunbathing with you, lying flat on her belly with her limbs outstretched, but she must’ve slipped into the house a while ago. You dog ear the page and place the book on the small table beside you.

The sun dances on the water, creating a beautiful mosaic of light and shadow. A little slice of heaven on earth, you think. You love spending time in the backyard. It’s peaceful and tranquil.

And that’s when you hear the patter of feet running across the grass from behind, and before you’re able to realise what’s happening, two bodies jump into the pool, the water splashes everywhere – including you.

“What the-” You shut your eyes closed despite the sunglass perched on the bridge of your nose. Water droplets hit your face. You pull your sunglasses up to your forehead.

Two heads pop out of the water. “Hi.” Jungkook is the first to speak up. He sends a sweet smile in your direction, his hand doing a little wave.

Your heart beats faster at the sight of him. Unthinkingly, you slowly mimic the wave with your hand. Your gaze wanders over to the tattoo wreathing his shoulder, peeking out of the water, and the way the droplets run from his face to his neck before your eyes shift to your brother.

Taehyung is fixing his hair, a huge grin plastered on his face.

“What are you guys doing here?” You grab the towel next to you to dry yourself off. “Isn’t it Thursday? I thought you were coming back on Friday?”

“Surprise!” Your brother yells from the pool. When Taehyung notices the pout on your lips, he gives you a quizzical look. “You’re not happy to see me?” He pushes himself out of the pool and walks over to you.

“I had planned to bake you a cake,” you explain sullenly and stand up.

“A cake? For what?”

“Just a little welcome back cake.” You shrug. “Mum bought me the pink Smeg stand mixer and I wanted to try it out.”

“Well, that’s fine. We could bake together?” He opens his arms, and despite him being wet everywhere, you rush into the hug.

“Missed you,” you mumble into his arm. Immediate comfort surrounds you. "But it’s no fun being in the kitchen with you.”

“Yah.” He shoves you away. “Be grateful that I’m letting you ruin my kitchen with all your stuff.”

“Ruin?” you repeat offended. “As far as I know you barely even have anything in your kitchen – let alone your apartment. I’ll decorate everything really pretty, just trust me.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Jungkook pushing himself out of the pool. Taehyung restricts your sight a little, so you take a subtle step to the side. But the second you have a clear view of Jungkook, you instantly regret it.

His arms have gotten bigger – stronger, buffer, just everything – and the water running down his sculpted body is pitifully failing at making this scene less salivating. Oh, and his thighs. His wet swim shorts cling to them, leaving exactly nothing to the imagination.

You hastily look away when Jungkook catches your eyes.

“You missed me too?” Jungkook chips in, standing next to Taehyung. Jungkook wears a cheeky grin and stretches his arms out.

With faux reluctance, you give in. “I guess,” you mutter and gingerly hug him. Jungkook’s big hands are on your back and you feel the slightest tingle.

“You guess?” he scoffs.

He pulls you back and peers down at you beneath his wet locks. You’re a little blinded by the proximity of his gorgeous face. His piercings twinkle in the sun just like is eyes do when he looks at you.

When his hands clasp your waist, you know exactly what he’s scheming.

“Jungkook, don’t.” You try to push him away, but he obviously won’t budge.

“When are you gonna learn that teasing me by the pool never ends well for you?” He cocks his head.

You feel Taehyung’s hand on your shoulder. “You did this to yourself.”

You huff, trying to plead with your eyes. “Jungkook. I really don’t want to get my hair wet.”

“You don’t want me to throw you into the pool?”

“No.” Your mouth twists into a pout. Maybe he’ll spare you for cuteness. Your hands travel to his arms. Or maybe you can distract him enough to let you go.

“Too bad.” Jungkook throws you over his shoulder with an annoying grin. You kick his back with your fists, but it’s hopeless. “That’s, like, one of my favourite summer activities.”

And then he leaps into the pool with you.

~

You admit, you did indeed have fun goofing around with them in the pool – you're still pissed at Jungkook for tossing you into the water though.

“You’ve been alone the whole day?” Taehyung asks when all three of you are out of the pool.

“Yeah, mum and dad said they’d come home later.”

“Why haven’t you invited someone over?”

“Just wanted to enjoy some me time.” You point to your copy of Everything I Know About Love. “I was reading a little.”

“How are thing with Doyoon? Haven’t heard from him in a while.”

It is a reasonable question, given that you haven’t updated Taehyung on your relationship status for, like, a month now. But you’d rather talk about anything but your ex.

“I don’t know,” you reply indifferently. When you spot little Moon plodding around the garden you swoop her up into your arms. “Have you greeted Moonie yet? She’s missed you.” The tiny grey kitty purrs in your hold.

“I spent like 20 minutes cuddling her in the living room when we got here.” Taehyung pets her under her chin and her purring intensifies. “So, what’s with Doyoon? You two had a fight?”

Jungkook joins the kitty cuddles and gives Moon belly rubs.

“I broke up with him.”

Both boys stop their movements. Moon complains meekly at the sudden lack of petting.

“You broke up with him?” Jungkook asks perplexed.

You’re aware it sounds shocking that the girl with huge separation anxiety and attachment issues broke up with her boyfriend of nearly a year, but that is exactly what you did.

“What did he do?” Taehyung's eyebrows are knitted, flashing you a glowering gaze.

You know he is not mad at you – even though he doesn’t particularly like when you keep things hidden from him – but mad at the fact that someone hurt you and he wasn’t there to protect you.

You just shrug.

“How long ago was that?” Taehyung continues his inquiry.

“Uh, like a month ago or so?” You let Moon hop onto the grass. She immediately goes to rub her head against Jungkook’s leg.

“___, if you want me to-”

“Tae, I’m fine. Really.”

“We’ll talk about this later.” In Jungkook’s direction he says, “I’ll get us some towels.” And then he disappears into the house.

Jungkook steps closer to you, now with Moon in his embrace, and changes the subject. “Watchu been up to?” He pinches your cheek. “Senior year was fine without us?”

Frowning, you shove his arm away. “Believe it or not, but school was actually more peaceful without annoying boys in the hallways.”

Jungkook snorts a laugh at your jab. His dimples popping out distract you a little and all you think about is cute and how badly you want to poke them. But instead, you cross your arms in front of your chest.

“So, everything’s been fine?” he asks. “You’re excited for college? Being roomies with Taehyung?” Jungkook’s eyes shimmer teasingly – how could they not, his doe eyes look the sparkliest around you.

Now, you don’t want to seem rude. But when you thought about moving out and finally having the freedom you had dreamed of for so long, you didn’t reckon with the fact that your parents had already arranged your move out without you. You had tabs of pretty apartments near campus saved on your laptop when your mum nonchalantly asked at dinner a few months ago if Taehyung had already removed the furniture from his guest bedroom so you could furnish it to your liking.

You were a little upset – still are upset, but there's nothing you can do.

It’s a sore subject, so you bite the side of your lip sulkily. “Why? Do you wanna move in? I heard you only got a tiny dorm.” You keep your nose in the air.

“Oh no, I love my apartment. I love having my own space and not having to share it with anyone.” Jungkook shakes his head at your wrong assumption, all innocently. “It’s not big, but perfect for one person.” He shrugs. “Will you be fine with only one room to yourself, princess?” He actually flashes you a smile – taunting you with those sickeningly wicked lips and round eyes – but you just roll your eyes at his silly remark and turn on your heel, sashaying your way back to the sun lounger.

“I’m good.” You pick up your towel from the small table to dry you off. “I’ll be perfectly fine. I don’t think I’ll be home much anyway.” You imitate his smile from just a moment ago. “Wanna have the full college experience.” You think you see his face falter for the tiniest second before he recovers.

“Told Taehyung that too?”

You purse your lips in naivety. “Of course he knows.”

“Oh, yeah?” He quirks his brow. You catch his eyes as they dip down to watch you drying your chest.

You blink. “What do you mean – yeah, of course I told him.” You have to contain your laughter when perplexity falls over Jungkook’s face. “What are you thinking of?” Your head falls sideways, mouth curving upwards.

“No, what are you thinking of?”

“Oh, I’m thinking of spending my time in the library to study, maybe explore some cute cafes nearby to study in – oh, creating study groups and having study buddies would be fun!” you exclaim. “And obviously cheering for Taehyung and you,” – you give him a pointed look – “at your games.” You throw the now damp towel back on the lounger. “What were you thinking of?”

He shakes his head, pouty mouth denying that he was thinking of something else. He’s guilelessly rubbing Moon’s back, who has quickly fallen into a little nap in his arms.

“Cheering us on, hm?”

“Just like old times,” you say. “Think I should apply as a cheerleader again?”

Jungkook toys with his lip ring and you hate when he does it because you already have a hard time not blatantly staring at his mouth as it is.

“You-” He stops abruptly.

“What?” you ask, trying to pull the words from him, the tip of your tongue pressing against your top lip.

“You looked good in your cheerleader uniform.” His eyes dart mindlessly over your body.

A short giggle escapes you. “I know, right? Thank you!” You give him a sweet smile over your shoulder as you walk pass Taehyung, who just stepped outside with two towels in his hand.

“Where’re you going?” Taehyung halts next to you.

“Thought I’d make us some drinks,” you reply.

Taehyung gives you a long stare. “That’s what you’ve been up to the past weeks?”

You wave dismissively. “No, not at all.”

But Taehyung can tell when you lie – can smell it from anywhere. It’s something you hate and love at the same time. Sometimes you just want to be left alone, and sometimes, when your guard is up high, he allows you to feel vulnerable through his endless poking and snooping.

“Maybe a little.” An apologetic smile forms on your mouth, eyes going rounder when you hear Taehyung sigh.

Okay, maybe you did drink a little more than you’d like to admit – you got your heart broken. What’s a girl gonna do? – but never too much. And never when you were on your own. Being drunk alone is no fun.

“I promise it’s not that serious,” you say. Nothing a little crying, cuddles from Moon and journaling at night can’t cure. Your visits at stationery stores have been a tad bit excessive this past month – but for good reason.

His eyes tell you that he’s going to confront you about this later. He nods his head to the kitchen inside. “Don’t go too overboard, yeah?”

“Oh, I’ll make you one of my specialties!”

Taehyung doesn’t join your enthusiasm. Instead, he scowls. “Specialties? ___, when did you-”

You hop into the house, not listening anymore. Once he gets a taste of your drink, his grumpy face will ask for another one instead of grumbling about your recklessness.

~

You don’t know what Taehyung and Jungkook are up to, but you hope they took your advice seriously when you told them to put on sunscreen if they want to spend more time outside.

You’re fresh out of a shower. The steam in your bathroom follows you into your bedroom – despite the hot temperatures, you can’t bring yourself to shower with cold water.

With a fluffy towel around you and your kitty ears headband on, you poke your head into your wardrobe to search for clothes.

You just fetched a cute pair of panties when you hear your door fly open.

“Taehyung needs a charger can you-”

Jungkook immediately shuts up.

Your panties slip from your fingers. His eyes move aimlessly over your body until he realises what he’s doing. Flustered, he turns his head around and sees the door wide open. Jungkook quickly closes it, and you don’t know why – maybe he doesn’t want anyone seeing you like this, you think he mentioned earlier that Namjoon was gonna come over too, or maybe he doesn’t want someone seeing him in this untimely situation.

Your cheeks feel on fire. “He needs a phone charger?” you ask when he shifts his gaze back at you.

“Yeah.” You almost giggle at the way he tries not to look down at your body. He already had trouble with that in the backyard.

You pad through your room to find your charger.

“I’m not sure where I put it.” You feel his eyes on you and inevitably, your entire body gradually starts feeling hot. You bend down to take a peek under your bed, tightly holding the towel in front of your chest to keep it from sliding down, but you come up empty-handed.

Jungkook clears his throat. “You know – I think he’ll be fine. If he doesn’t find his I can get mine from home.”

Returning to him, you quickly snatch your panties from the ground and throw them back into your wardrobe.

“Maybe I left it in the living room,” you say, eyes trailing over his bare chest. If he’s not subtle about staring, you won’t be either.

“I’ll tell him to look there.”

You nod. And he nods. But no one moves.

“That looks cute.” He nods towards your headband.

“Oh.” You touch the soft material of your headband. “Thank you.”

“I probably should head back.”

“You really want to leave?”

That elicits a surprised snort from him. “Do you want me to stay?” His eyebrows shoot up.

“I dunno.” You toy with the front of your towel. “Maybe?”

The crooked smile that appears on his face gives you the last push. You’ve got Jungkook alone in your room in nothing but his swim shorts – you'd be a fool not to try.

His eyes are locked on your fingers playing with your towel. Jungkook takes a step towards you. When he raises his tatted arm and gently outlines the curve of your waist with his fingertip, you let go of your towel. With a dull thud it pools around your feet.

“I-” Jungkook is speechless as he stares at your exposed body His doe eyes are wider than you’ve ever seen them. He averts his gaze to your face, pointing his thumb to the door. His mouth parts, but no words come past them.

“Don’t leave.” A little frown scrunches your face. “Do you want to leave?”

“We shouldn’t-” Jungkook shakes his head, eyes furtively glimpsing at your body again before lifting them up. “You sure?” he asks. “You want this?” Hesitantly, his tongue fiddles with his piercing.

You nod and reach for his hand, grabbing a few fingers to drag him closer to you.

“You want this?” he repeats. “Need you to say it. Please.” He’s staring deep into your eyes and you see the desire and restraint striving against each other in his. His question lingering in the air controls his mixed emotions.

“I want this.” You tug him even closer.

His longing glances are all over you – he can’t seem to dwell too long on one curve, he needs to memorise it all.

“Fuck it,” he whispers. And then he cups your jaw, roughly going in for a messy kiss.

You stumble a few steps back, but Jungkook catches you, his fingers dip into the soft skin of your waist. A sigh from you mingles into the kiss. You didn’t think kissing Jungkook would feel so good. But his lips are ridiculously smooth, and he moves his mouth in a fashion that has you yearning for more. Your hands vanish in his hair, teasingly pulling at his damp locks.

He pulls back, breathing heavy. “This is so wrong.” He nuzzles his head into your neck.

“He won’t know.” When you feel his teeth sinking into your skin, you yank him back. “He will if you're gonna suck hickeys on me.”

“You just taste so fucking good,” he mumbles.

You pepper kisses along his jaw before you slowly sink on your knees. The bulge in his shorts stares right at you. Giddy sparks flash through your eyes while you look up at Jungkook.

“You’re not doing this because you drank, right?” His knuckles brush over your cheek.

“Huh?” you feel dizzy, little pink hearts swell up in front of your eyes, the longer you stare into his dreamy face. When you register his question, you deny it with a strong shake of your head. “I’m not drunk.”

He tips your chin up. “You promise?”

“I didn’t put anything in my drink,” you assure him. “I promise.”

With a smile playing on your lips, you place a kiss on his belly button before pulling down his swim shorts. The pink hearts grow even bigger when his cock pops out. It’s a pretty cock – veiny and thick, his tip glistening with a teeny tiny dab of pre-cum. You’ve never been more excited to put a dick in your mouth.

You have one palm around his cock and guide his head to your mouth. You stick your tongue out and sweep it over his slit. The muscles on his abdomen tense. Even the slightest reactions from him excites you, cheeks turning warm in eagerness.

A breathy moan escapes Jungkook at the feeling of your warm lips wrapped around his head and his fingers slide over your kitty ears headband to the back of your head. You like the feeling of his hand on you. It elicits a tingly sensation in your tummy. You take more of him, relaxing your throat as you go.

“Good girl.” His hushed praise has wetness pooling between your thighs. Your fist curled around his cock tightens fleetingly.

More quiet moans fill the room as you bob your head, tongue swirling around his length. You pull off his dick with a lewd sound and pump his cock while you suck on his balls. Jungkook’s head falls back, flaunting his pretty throat you’d die to adorn with your love bites all over.

Dragging your lips over his cock again, his palm pushes your head forward. Almost his entire length vanishes in your mouth and the corner of your eyes start shimmering with tears.

“Fuck, that’s right.” He holds you there, savouring the feeling of your lips pulled taut around his swollen cock. “Taking my cock so good.” When you retract with a gag, his thumb brushes your tear away. “But still too big, huh?”

“You wanna teach me how to take all of it?” You bat your eyes.

Jungkook grins, flashing you his bunny teeth. He glides his tip over your plush lips and to your cheek. “Think you could take it all?”

“If you teach me well enough.” Your palms rest against his muscular thighs. You squeeze them and your mouth turns round in awe of their firmness.

He taps his cock on your face a couple times. “Another time, princess. Just wanna fuck your mouth right now.” Jungkook presses his dick on your mouth. “Open.”

With his cock back in your mouth, he starts moving his hips. He doesn’t force his cock in too far, just enough to have you teary eyed.

“Scoot over there.” His voice his husky as he pulls his dick from your mouth, it distracts you a little from what he’s instructed you to do until Jungkook nudges your shoulder and nods his chin to the back. You crawl backwards on your knees, palms on his thighs. When he’s satisfied, he leans in for a short kiss and you kneel comfortably on the plush carpet beneath you.

He strokes himself, eyebrows drawn together as he ogles your body through his hooded eyes. You could sit here for hours watching him play with himself. He’s just so hot. You love watching hot men do anything.

“Wanna fuck you,” he rasps, words laced with thick, deep lust. He pushes his hair back before it falls prettily into his face. “Can I fuck you?”

Unbeknownst to him, you would do anything he asked you to do now.

When you raise to your feet Jungkook asks, “Can you keep quiet?”

Offence is written on your face as you pad to your nightstand. “Don’t worry. This isn’t the first time I’ve snuck a boy into my room.”

“Who would’ve thought you’re such a dirty girl, hm?” He snatches the condom from your drawer before you can reach for it. He’s practised in tearing the wrapper open and rolling it over his cock. “Bend over your desk for me.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows, arching your back for him. He shoves two fingers up your pussy and you have to bite down your lip to stifle a moan.

“So wet for me already.” Jungkook curls his fingers, and you can’t believe how fast he has your thighs trembling.

Withdrawing his fingers, he aligns his tip to your entrance. Jungkook gradually sinks his cock into you.

“Fuck, you’re big,” you whine, brows pinched together.

“You can take it.” Jungkook moves his hips while his fingers grip your ass, kneading the supple flesh. “Your pussy feels so fucking good – fuck.”

Jungkook fucks you fast – fucks you good, you think you already feel your high building up. He sneaks his around your body, pressing his palm on your tummy.

“You like this?” He puts pressure with his hand and your walls clamp around his cock. A moan escapes you. “Good girl,” he coos. “Wanna make you cum for me.”

“Don’t stop – please don’t stop,” you pant, shutting your eyes closed. Your elbows give in and you rest your arms on the desk.

Jungkook’s cock feels undeniably good, rubbing against your sweet spot and making you see stars while you uncontrollably utter tiny moans.

“Gonna cum around my cock?” Jungkook hand collides against your butt. “Be a good girl and cum for me.”

Your climax consumes you in lightning speed. It swamps your wholly, tears well up in your eyes. Your legs are wobbly, but Jungkook has a safe hand around you.

“That’s a good girl,” he whispers.

His hand on your tummy flies up to your tits, rolling them around in his palm while relentlessly fucking you through your high.

“Has any sneaky link made you cum this fast before?” His voice is tinted in something you can’t quiet pinpoint. It’s deep, fierce.

“Nu-uh.” You’re dizzy and breathless, can’t think straight.

“Good.” He lands a smack on your ass.

His breathing intensifies, cock throbbing in your pussy. Pressing his forehead against your shoulder blade, his husky moans fill your ear. Your eyes roll. There’s nothing hotter than men moaning – especially when it’s Jungkook.

With a final thrust he spills his cum inside the condom. He exhales shakily and the tiniest whine falls from his lips. “Fuck.” Both his hands run over the slope of your ass. Jungkook plants a thoughtless kiss on the nape of your neck. “Fucking you might be my favourite now.”

“Found a new favourite summer activity besides throwing me into the pool?” You smile tiredly, peering over your shoulder.

“No – I’m talking favourite activity in general.” He absent-mindedly roams his palms across your back and down to your butt.

A giddy feeling unfurls in your chest. “Well, don’t tell Tae that.”

“Fuck, I should head downstairs.” Jungkook pulls his cock out, coaxing a little whine from you “You have a bin here?”

“In my bathroom.”

While Jungkook gets rid of the condom, you wrap yourself up in the towel again. You need another shower before putting on clothes.

When he steps out, he quickly throws on his swim shorts. “You gonna take a shower?”

“Yeah...need to fix this.”

Genuine confusion spreads on his face. “You look pretty.” With an endearing smile, dimples out and doe eyes sparkling he adds, “Always.”

Something really tightly wraps around your heart. “Thanks.” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip to stop your smile from growing.

The doorbell rings downstairs.

“Oh, is that Joon?” you ask joyfully. “I need him to recommend me some books again! I missed him so much.”

“He has a girlfriend,” Jungkook tells you.

You frown. You’re not stupid – obviously you know he has one. You’ve seen the pictures he shared on his Instagram stories. What kinda guy goes to a ceramic painting place? That was obviously a date.

“I know.”

When Namjoon’s loud voice screaming for Jungkook reaches your ears, your tummy churns.

“You need to leave.” You push Jungkook towards the door. He opens it and swiftly walks out.

“Hey, Namjoon, is that you?” Jungkook yells.

As you watch Jungkook leave your room, you want him back immediately. It feels unfair to get a taste of what his kisses and touches feel like only to have them taken away.

But deep down you know you two can’t repeat this. You wouldn’t be able to keep it from your brother. Eventually, Taehyung would figure it out.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

pt 1 & pt 2 here <3

[redvexillum]

This request is special to me because my first NSFW Alastor x Reader story on my sideblog was also about Alastor getting head 🤣 (Tell Me I'm Punny) I thought it be fitting/funny if my very first request story for this new blog would also be about Alastor getting head, -sighs- the beauty of ✨️sentimentality✨️ By the way, I took your request quite literally, if ya know what I mean 😏 XOXO, RedVexi💋

SUMMARY: You simply wanted to wake him up...in more ways than one.

WARNING/TAGS: f!reader, oral s*x (m!receiving), handjob, reader is a brat, teasing, established relationship, edging, ruined org*sm, dom/sub undertone, Alastor is not pleased

Like a deer caught in the headlights, you stared at Alastor’s sleeping visage, mesmerized by the sight. It was silly, but you felt an urge to wave your hand before his closed eyes to ensure he was truly asleep.  

He lay on his back, lips stretched wide into a close-lipped smile, hands neatly folded one atop the other on his bare chest. His breath was soft and even, mirroring the tranquility of his expression.  

For as long as you’d known Alastor, you had never once caught him sleeping. You had long assumed he was an eternal insomniac, his soul never craving or requiring rest – a restless soul, so to speak.  

When you had asked him if he ever slept, he would only grin – his trademarked shit-eating grin – and he would pinch your cheeks while wiggling them before promptly changing the topic.  

It drove you mad, for you didn’t understand the purpose of his secrecy on this subject.  

You knew he was messing with you because he delighted in your curiosity, relishing the chase as you grew increasingly frustrated. Yet now, as your gaze rested on his sleeping figure, you had to suppress a laugh. Trust Alastor to fall deeply asleep only after an intense night of fucking you until you went delirious with pleasure.  

Slowly, you sat up and winced at the ache in your backside, a vivid reminder of how he had relentlessly stretched your ass with his shadowy tendril while rubbing your core until you were an absolute sobbing mess. The memory of his touch, the way he played your body like a well-used instrument, sent a shiver down your spine. He was the master at blending the symphony of pain and pleasure that always left you breathless.  

Pouting, you glared at Alastor as his body naturally sidled up closer to you, a comfortable sigh escaping his lips. He had promised that yesterday you could control the pace and make all the decisions from start to finish. But, of course, he couldn’t last five freaking minutes before he immediately started calling all the shots.  

Even though he gave you mind-blowing orgasm after orgasm, it was the principle of the matter for you. You loved following his instructions in the bedroom, but sometimes you wanted to switch things up a bit – go a little off-script.  

Nibbling on the inside of your cheek, a mischievous spirit took over your body, a small act of tomfoolery that you were sure Alastor would approve of if he wasn’t your unsuspecting victim.  

Pressing your hand lightly on top of his abdomen, you felt the warmth of his body seep into your palm. Immediately, his muscles tensed, but he remained perfectly still, refusing to open his eyes.  

Interesting.  

With a wicked grin, you smoothed the planes of his stomach, letting your fingers brush against the fine line of hair leading down to his hips. His breathing hitched ever so slightly, a telltale sign that he was not as asleep as he pretended to be. As your hand continued to move south, you were promptly stopped when the tip of Alastor’s hardened member greeted you. You giggle softly at the prominent bulge he now displayed beneath the sheets. 

Slipping the sheet off him, his cock twitched, anticipating your next move. As you positioned yourself between his legs, Alastor spread them, giving you full access to him however you wished to touch him.  

“Looks like only half of you is up right now, Al,” you whispered, and you knew he heard you because you could see the ends of his lips twitching upwards. Yet, Alastor, the most stubborn man you had ever met, remained unmoving.  

Well, that only worked in your favour considering what you had in store for him.  

Bowing your head toward Alastor’s cock, you pressed a gentle kiss on its head, earning a jolt from him. His cock beckoned to enter your mouth as it continuously throbbed against your lips. Humming softly, your tongue peeked out, licking a strip down the length of him. Down, down, down you went until you gave him an open-mouthed kiss on his balls.  

A small groan escaped above you, quiet, could almost be mistaken for a shuddering breath. Your hands stroke the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, earning a small jerk of his hip upwards as his cock twitched, wanting to be sheathed into a wet, warm space.  

Instead of listening to his demands, you carefully suckled on his left ball, swirling it in your mouth before moving to the other. You took your time, slowly and agonizingly lapping him up, moaning as if you were singing a song of praise from the taste of him.  

The points of Alastor’s claw grazed your scalp, earning him another wanton sound from you. As you slowly parted from him, his hands flexed, grabbing a fistful of your hair and dragging your head back to the tip of his cock.  

You rolled your eyes at Alastor as you let him grind his hips against your mouth, feeling every ridge and the pull of his foreskin as he rubbed the sensitive tip against your moistened lips. His breath quickened, trying to stifle another quiet moan.  

What an impatient man, you thought, deciding that now was the time to exact a small, harmless, vengeance for last night.  

Your lips parted, ready to take him in, feeling the heat and firmness of his desire against your tongue. The taste of him, musky and addicting, filled your senses as you enveloped him. Your mouth slid down his length while your fingers wrapped around his base. Your tongue flattened as you felt the force from Alastor’s hand pushing your head down, urging you to take him deeper and deeper.  

Moving your hands, you flattened them around the front of his hips, your fingers acting as a frame around his cock. Lower and lower you went, until the tip bumped against the back of your throat.  

A louder, deeper, and almost feral growl resounded from above, and Alastor pulled on your hair to get back up until you were at the tip once more. Then, he surged his hips forward, slowly fucking your mouth as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked harder. You felt his thighs tense, his control slipping as he surrendered to the pleasure you were giving him.  

The sound of wet slurps and the symphony of your moans and his groans filled the air. Faster and faster, he thrust, the thick, heady taste of his pre-cum slid down your throat. Your fingers drifted down to the taut skin of his balls, feeling them tighten.  

You knew he was close.  

He was so, very, close.  

“Ah, darling –” The moment he called out to you, you immediately pulled your head away from his grasp – away from his weeping, throbbing cock.  

Straightening your back, your hair an absolute mess, you stared at Alastor with bemusement dancing along your wet lips. His eyes were blown wide open, and it was almost comical how he looked before you. He was panting, his hands frozen midair where he had last grabbed your hair, and you could tell he was trying to process why you had stopped him from finishing.  

His black, slit-like pupils slowly drifted down from the ceiling and landed on your eyes. “Darling,” he purred, his gaze lowering to his wanting, desperate cock before meeting your eyes once more. He gave you a grin, a silent dark warning that if you didn’t finish what you had started, he would make sure that you would do well to remember that from now on tonight.  

Undeterred, you wiped away the saliva with the back of your hand before giving him a cheeky grin. “Good morning, Al!” You said in an overly saccharine and exaggerated cheerful tone. His eyes looked less than impressed. Slowly, you prowled up his body, ensuring that your bare, wet, sodden centre smeared against his cock, causing him to shudder. He gripped your hips, forcing you to stay there, to sit right on his cock.  

His hardness pressed insistently against your entrance, and the heat between your legs was almost unbearable.  You fought the urge to rock your hips, to rub your slick folds against his shaft because you knew that you were just a breath away from losing control and letting Alastor take his fill of you.  

Alastor’s eyes darkened with lust and frustration. “You’re playing a dangerous game, darling,” he chuckled tonelessly, “a game you will lose.” He bared his sharp teeth as his claws dug into your hips.  

“Something the matter?” you asked, tilting your head with an innocent tone, hardly trying to feign a believable act of ignorance. “Is there something you would like, Al?” Your tone shifted lower, and his eyes flashed with equal parts amusement and irritation.  

“I would presume it would be quite obvious what I would want, darling,” his voice strained, yet he tried to keep an upbeat melody in his tone.  

Tamping down your laughter, you tapped your lips, mocking the pose of someone deep in thought, before snapping your fingers. Leaning forward, you gave him a chaste kiss on his left cheek. “Did you have a good sleep?” You cooed as you let out a small giggle.

“I guess you do sleep after all!” You said before fully dissolving into bright laughter. You refused to move your body; you refused to rub yourself against him like an animal in heat, no matter how much your body unconsciously squirmed in his grasp.  

Alastor’s grip on your hips tightened, his patience wearing thin. “You’re a cheeky little minx, aren’t you?” he growled, eyes darkening with desire.  

With a mischievous grin, you leaned closer, your breath hot against his ear. “Maybe I am,” you whispered. “But you had your way last night, so today is my turn.” 

Alastor’s lips brushed against your ear as he leaned closer to you, “And pray tell, darling, what is your way?” The heat between you was electric, and you could feel him straining, desperate for friction. “Come now, darling,” he murmured, his voice drenched with need. “Don’t tease me like this.” 

“Hmm, maybe,” you paused, and the points of his claws dug in deeper, telling you to get on with it, “if you asked nicely, I might consider it.” 

You felt his muscles stiffen before a low rumble resounded in his chest as he held back a dark chuckle. The bruising grip around your hips disappeared. With one hand resting on your back and the other caressing your face, he gave you a small, chaste kiss on your lips.  

“Good morning, darling,” his voice took on its characteristic jovial tone, as if he wasn’t hard and wanting, as if you hadn’t just denied him of his sweet release. “I did have a good sleep, thanks for asking!” He gave you another chaste kiss on your lips. “I’m ready to start our day!” He rubbed the tip of his nose against yours, his eyes squinting to make way for his wide grin. “We best get a move on, for I have quite a full day planned for you.” 

Suddenly, his eyes glowed a deep crimson red as he jutted his hips upward, letting you feel the heat and the hardened, silken skin of his cock. “Quite a full day, indeed,” his voice deepened, the radio filter crackling and popping in his tone.  

You bit down on your lower lip, feeling the phantom pain across your ass cheeks and the coil of heat burning hotter in your core. You had a feeling that tonight, he was going to remind you exactly who was in charge.  

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[imagines4thefandoms]

In Love with the Tats

(This has been in my drafts for a long time)

Warning: Lots of smut

summary: Henry comes home still wearing fake tattoos from his latest movie.

Henry Cavill is a kind and loving man. He is the real-life Superman. And he’s British so he’s automatically very polite and nice to everyone. He looks like an actual bear with all those muscles but he’s really just a giant teddy bear who requires cuddles to function. He usually plays good guys in the movies cause it's who he is. 

Which is why the world lost its mind when Mission Impossible: Fallout came out. Henry “king of nerds” Cavill was a bad guy. Seeing him betray, hurt, and kill was out of pocket and extremely hot. And you were not expecting it. When you started dating you told him not to give you any spoilers from his movies. You wanted to get the whole experience when you saw it at the premiere. Sometimes it backfired like in Dawn of Justice when Superman died, and you were caught off guard but he brought you tissues cause he knew you needed them. And when you got married that promise was in your vows. Maybe cause you told him you would divorce him if he spoiled anything for you. 

So when you watched your husband who can’t hurt a fly try and destroy the world and kill millions, you got turned on. Seeing a darker side of him was very attractive. And every girl can tell you how villains are a lot more attractive than heroes. So when you got home from the premiere you jumped his bones. And for the next 24 hours, you two rarely left the bed for longer than 5 minutes. The phrase fucking like rabbits could have legally changed to fucking like Cavill’s. 

After that when he would look over scripts his agent sent him, you would help him and pick out the role you liked (spoiler if he played the bad guy you liked it). He auditioned for the roles you liked cause he could never say no to you and you would never steer him wrong. And he got the role. You did your civic duty to the world and Henry Cavill was going to be a bad guy again on the silver screen. 

And now while he’s filming you spend all day with your favorite Cavill, Kal. You had gotten a text from your husband saying filming was running late and he wouldn’t be home in time for dinner which didn’t bother you at all. You made a simple pasta dinner and left it on the table cause you didn’t want to eat without him. Usually, when he runs late he gets home around 10 or 11 instead of 6 and you had a big lunch with friends so you didn’t mind waiting. While you waited for him to come home you and Kal sat on the couch watching The Office (American edition). It was the episode with Asian Jim so you were dying laughing over Dwight's reaction. Suddenly the front door opened and you felt a kiss on the top of your head, cause you were too busy to look over at who walked in the house. Though you knew it was Henry. 

“I could have been a robber,” he lightly scorned seeing as the front door was unlocked.

“Well then the robber could finish the episode with me and then take our things,” you teased still not looking at him. 

“You are a pain, love,” he said taking off his jacket and locking the front door. 

Kal, your nice warm cuddle buddy, jumped off the couch and ran to Henry excited that he was home. You turned to scorn your husband for causing your furnace to leave when you took in his appearance. 

“What is that,” you asked him noticing how he was covered in tattoos. Like COVERED. His neck, both arms and his knuckles had ink. 

“I didn’t want to keep the makeup artist there any longer and I told them to leave them til tomorrow,” he explained rubbing behind Kal’s ear. 

When he was met with silence he looked over at you and noticed you were staring. He immediately thought you were turned off. 

“I’ll try to get us to wrap earlier tomorrow so they have time to take it off,” he says grabbing Kal’s leash to take him on a walk. 

“You don’t have to,” you said staring at the tattoo on his neck and biting your lip. 

It suddenly clicked in his mind that you were very much turned on. He smirked at your reaction and bent over to whisper in your ear. 

“I'm going to walk Kal and when I get back I'll show you the rest of them.”

“There’s more,” you gasped finally bringing yourself to look him in the eye. 

He simply replied with a nod and walked back out of the house to walk the dog. Henry might have been gone for only 10 minutes but seeing how you were suddenly very hot and bothered it felt like hours. You were too antsy to move from your spot on the couch and could not for the life of you pay attention to the antics of Jim and Dwight. When Henry finally came back, he sent Kal to lie down in his bed in the living room and threw you over his shoulders to bring you to the bedroom. 

“You are not helping my situation,” you cried out as he threw you on the bed. 

“I'm not in a helping mood,” he replied taking off his shirt. 

His chest was covered in tattoos and scars. There was no bare centimeter of skin. You got on your knees and slowly ran your hand over the art. When you reached his navel he turned around and showed you the back. There was a cross with a rose intertwined with it and blood dripping from the stem. You turned him back around and placed one hand over the skill on his chest and your other hand covered the flames on his neck and brought him down to you for a very firm kiss. His hands went to your waist and he laid you down hovering over you. As soon as you got your legs out from under you they went around his waist to bring him closer to you. The kiss got very heated and sloppy. His lips left yours and traveled to your neck. Your hands alternated between gripping his hair and scratching his back. 

He pulled himself from you and removed the shirt you were wearing leaving your chest bare. He kissed your nose then your lips then your neck and kept traveling til he was right above your shorts. You whined as he slowly took off your shorts and peppered your hips with kisses. When he finally took your shorts off he kissed the inside of your ankle and slowly went up til his nose brushed against your very wet cunt. 

“Hen, please,” you cried as he just kept kissing your inner thigh and letting his mouth hover so close but so far from when you needed him. 

“Where do you need me,” he asked bringing his face back up to yours and staring into your eyes. “Here,” he asked placing a kiss on your neck. You shook your head no. “here,” he asked kissing between your breasts. 

“No,” you cried wiggling beneath him. 

His hands gripped your hips causing your movements to cease and his lips brushed over your right nipple. “Here?” You again shook your head no. and he did the same to your left nipple. He asked the same question and got the same answer. He continued to kiss down your body, your stomach, hips, knee, and ankle but still wouldn’t touch you where you needed him. 

“If you don’t hurry up or I’m going to do it myself,” you cried out. 

“No, you’re not. You are mine, your kisses are mine. Your tears are mine. Your whimpers, moans, and pleas are mine. And for damn sure your orgasms are mine. No one, no toy, not even these beautiful fingers can bring you the pleasure I can,” he said kissing the tip of all ten of your fingers. “They can’t fill you or stretch you the way I can. You will forever be unsatisfied, empty, and cold without my fingers, mouth, and cock to fill you and keep you warm.”

His mouth finally hovered over where you needed him. He could see and smell how turned on you were but still hesitated to do anything about it. “Say it. Say no one can fuck you like I can. Tell me you are mine,” he said staring at you. 

You wiggled and cried and gasped at the feeling of his hot breath on your cunt. You tried to close your leg to get a little morsel of relief but his hands gripped your thighs and forced them open. 

“Say it,” he said again this time deliberately blowing directly on your clit. 

“Fuck. I’m yours only yours. No one can ever fuck me as good as you do,” you cried trying to close your legs again but not moving them an inch. “Please Hen I can’t take it.”

“Good girl. I’ve got you just relax,” he said before attaching his mouth to your aching cunt and eating you out like a starved man. 

His tongue traveled from your clit to your vagina and back again. He started sucking on your clit but his eyes never left your face. He watched as your eyes closed and face contorted with pleasure. Your hands gripped his hair and you were either trying to pull him away or pushing him in more you didn’t know but a groan left his throat causing you to fall over the edge and cum in his mouth. 

He lapped up the juices and sat back and just admired the mess between your legs. He used his fingers to spread you open so he could get a closer look. He spits in your very exposed cunt and then goes back to eating you like you were a whole meal at a 5-star restaurant. You cried and screamed his name when his teeth gently grazed over your clit. Before you could even come down from your first orgasm the second one hit like a ton of bricks. Your hips lifted off the bed and you screamed his name but he still wasn’t done. When your legs stopped shaking he finally removed his mouth and bruised your lips with a kiss. You let out a moan when you tasted yourself on his lips. 

You opened your eyes and noticed his were filled with a lustful/predatory look. He gently pressed kisses on your nose and lips causing you to laugh. His hand traveled from your neck to your left breast then down til his fingers stopped between your legs. 

“I'm not done with you princess, that was just my mouth. We still have my fingers,” he said pressing two into you without warning causing you to gasp. “And my cock,” he said placing a small kiss on your neck. 

“Fuck Hen,” you cried turning your head away from him. 

“On no princess, I said those are mine. You are going to look in my eyes as you come undone on just my fingers,” he said turning your head towards him.

You couldn’t say a word so you just nodded as your response. He thrust his finger in and out of you so slowly that it was almost painful. “Faster please,” you whined running your hands through his hair and bringing his lips against you. 

“Too impatient, you that much of a whore you can’t wait to drench my finger,” he asked picking up his speed. 

“Oh yes,” you said both at the new pace and his words.

“Yes, what,” he asked pulling his fingers out of you and bringing them to his lips. “Fuck you taste exquisite.”

You whined at the now empty feeling seeing as you were so close to cumming again. “Yes, I'm your whore please.”

Satisfied with your answer he plunged his fingers into your agains and was fucking you with such a brutal pace that tears fell from your eyes. “That’s my good girl. You're doing so well for me. You're taking my fingers so well, should we add another,” he asked rubbing your clit with his fingers. 

“Yes, Daddy please.”

He inserted another finger and stretched you out. Henry stroked your face when he saw you wince in pain. 

“It's okay baby, Your pussy was made for me. I can feel you gripping my fingers. Do you wanna cum,” he asked kissing your ear. 

“Please,” you whined. 

“Let go, Daddy’s got you,” he whispered. “Be my good girl and cum for me.”

The knot in your stomach broke and a wave of ecstasy filled every atom of your body. His finger still fucked you through through your intense orgasm. When you came down he once again removed his fingers. He brought them to your lips and gave them a little tap. 

“Clean my fingers, taste how sweet you taste,” he said looking at you. 

You sucked your cum off his fingers like there was no tomorrow while your eyes never left his. Once you were done he removed his fingers from your mouth and got off the bed to remove his jeans. Out of instinct, you got on your knees in front of him. He unbuckled his pants and pulled both his jeans and boxers down. You were about to take him in your mouth when you noticed more tattoos on his hips and all over his legs. 

Your fingers traced the dragon that covered his entire right leg. From his ankle to his hip. On his left thigh was a wolf’s head with trees around it like it was a forest. Henry let out a growl seeing as were were quite literally leaving him hanging. 

“It's not fun is it,” you retorted letting him think your were punished him for leaving you high and dry earlier. 

“Either you take my cock in your mouth now or I shove it down your throat and fuck you so hard you can’t speak,” he threatened gripping your throat and forcing you to look up. 

You pressed your legs at the thought of him fucking your mouth with such force. He noticed you squirm and he laughed. “You want that, don’t you. You want to wake up tomorrow with a sore throat and remember how I used you for the slut you are.”

You nodded your head and his hands gripped your head and he just stared into your eyes. “Then open up,” he said before he shoved his dick down your throat causing you to gag. Once the shock was over you tried to suck the soul out of him. 

“Fuck,” he moaned as your nails dug into his thighs.

He kept fucking your mouth and made sure that every inch was in. He brought your face to the base of his cock then pulled out completely to give you a breath. His thump traced your lips and pushed the drool from your chin back into your mouth. “My beautiful wife.” Your mouth fell open waiting for him to shove his cock back down your throat. Henry let out a laugh before giving you what you wanted. The pace he was going was brutal but beautiful at the same time. 

You watched as his face scrunched in pleasure at the feeling of your mouth. The sound of his balls slapping your chin filled your ears making your legs squeeze together. Henry’s hands cradled your face as he forced his cock as far down your throat as he could reach and he just held you there. When your tongue ran over the vein on the underside of him he quickly pulled himself out. 

“If I’m going to cum anywhere,” he said pulling you to him, “it’s going to be in this pussy.”

Henry’s hand stroked you clit one more time before he gently pushed you down on the bed. You tried to scoot up to the pillows but, Henry grabbed your ankles and dragged you back down til your ass was almost off the bed. He brushed your hair out of your face and places a kiss on your nose before plunging deep into your aching cunt. 

“Fuck,” you yelled dragging your nails down his back. 

Henry pounded into you at an alarming pace causing you to slowly move up the bed. “I'm gonna,” you yelled before his lips attacked yours. The orgasm ripped through your body. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably and your bones felt like mush. But Henry didn’t stop. His pace was speeding up like he was chasing his own pleasure. 

“I can’t,” you cried moving your head side to side. 

“Yes, you can baby. Just one more,” he said kissing your shoulder. “I'm almost there, you’re doing such a good job.”

Your head is still shaking from the overstimulation. His hands went from your waist to your painfully throbbing clit. “Please,” you cried when he roughly pinched it. He ignored your cries and just focused on your clit. You tried moving away but his other hand moved to your throat. “I know baby. But I know you have one more. Please I need you,” he pleaded as his strokes slowed down. You slowly nodded your head and he forcefully kissed you again. He removed his hand from your throat and went back to your thigh. Henry gave you a little squeeze before moving your legs over his shoulders. 

At this angle, you could swear you felt more of him. He slammed into you over and over again. “Cum with me baby,” he said bending you practically if half so he could kiss you. His movements stopped and his head fell to your shoulder as he came. “Fuck,” he yelled once he emptied his entire load. He stayed in you for a minute to catch his breath. 

“I love you,” he said whipping the sweat off your brow. 

You winced when he slowly removed himself. “I love you too,” you said when he walked into the bathroom to get a washcloth. When he ran the warm cloth over your abused cunt you flenched in pain. “Fuck, did I hurt you,” he asked kissing your knee. You shook your head and pulled him up to you. “Just very sore. Can you just hold me,” you asked.

He rolled off you and laid on his back with his arm extended waiting for you to move at your own pace. While your head rested on his chest, he rubbed small circles on your lower back. 

“So you want me to keep these tomorrow too,” he asked mumbling into your hair. You let out a laugh and slapped his stomach. “God no, I can’t survive another night like this tomorrow,” you said moving to look up at him. “But definitely next week,” you said with a smile.

[ghoulphile]

janey's dad | c.h./the ghoul | teaser

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 465 for the teaser, overall wordcount tbd ➥ overall warning(s) | 🔞 smut; age gap (i hc reader to be late 20s but i tried to leave it vague enough), cowgirl position, biting, hair pulling, choking, squirting, teasing, pining, lipstick kink, breast/nipple play, masturbation (m), porn w/ feelings, porn w/ plot, mild angst w/ happy ending, coop's pov to start - rest of the fic will be in reader's, divorced!coop, babysitter!reader, pre-war/bomb ➥ summary | "We really s-shouldn't - oh fuck - be doing this." ➥ notes | here's a teaser for the fic i took a poll on, some people wanted more info 😊 coop is a big dick dilf fite me. feedback is always appreciated ❤️ lmk if you want to be tagged feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | masterlist

Divorce is hard, but being a divorcé is downright hellish.

Ugliest thing in the world, if Cooper Howard has any say.

It's not like being a Marine with a gun in hand, being told where to point and shoot, or an actor reading off a script. There's no guidebook, no crash course. These people aren't nameless threats coasts away or co-workers following a cue.

In fact, his 'enemies' aren't enemies at all.

They have names: Barb, so smart it hurts, and sweet little Janey, his very own North star. Sometimes looking at them rips open a hole in his chest that'll never close, edges jagged and sore. The phantoms of family, of happier times, found in the glint of a smile or a peal of laughter.

See, war's something he understands. Something he's good at.

But these domestic battlefields where he's gotta look his ex-wife in the face, and struggle to meet his daughter's eye? Barter this weekend and that holiday? To pay for the privilege of his child's presence (he does, he will, she's worth every goddamn cent he's ever made)?

To look down the barrel of a smoking gun only to find the woman he loves staring back; he doesn't, can't, comprehend that. Because once upon a time, he was happy (with her) and life was sweeter than pie.

Now he's nothing but a washed up actor who struggles to land a call back let alone make his monthly alimonies. His marriage has failed, his reputation is in shambles, and his bank account is dryer than the Mojave.

Barb gets the house. He gets the dog.

And caught in the middle of it all is his little girl; the only thing he’s got left worth while. He wants to protect her, provide for her the way she deserves — only he seems to fall short every goddamn time.

The mistakes and missteps keep stacking up against him; such is his new life in all its raw, unglamorous glory.

Look how far the mighty fall.

Lucky for him — the first bright thing that's come his way in a long, long while — a sweet, young woman moves into the apartment next door. Of course, it isn't long before Janey takes a shine, always so friendly.

Thankfully, you're just as good with her.

It only makes sense you'd watch her when a gig runs late. Rustle up some grub and put her to bed whenever he slinks in through the door, stripped to the bone.

And if he takes himself in hand late at night, stroking his cock to the thought of you down on your knees in that pretty little sundress? Imagines the wide stretch of your lush mouth as you peer up at him from between his thighs when he cums hard?

Well, what you don't know won't hurt you.

After all, he promises to keep his hands to himself.

part 01 of full fic

[thefirstforgottenpages]

Just Another Win

I’d like to call it my victory lap

Authors note: Y’all really ate the first one tf up soooo… (me acting like I didn’t read every Rhea ripley x reader on tumblr)

Also Rhea with long hair makes me wanna crawl to Australia 

Warnings: smut, hurt comfort, fluff, wrestler!reader, (twisted/noncannon storyline) Nia Jax, Rhea being stubborn, mommy/mami kink, oral, strap on (reader receiving), praise, choking, manhandling… that’s about it (not proofread, I’ll go back and fix it later lmao)

You were livid, you were positively fuming. You watched in gut twisting fear as Nia Jax went off script again and started to beat the ever loving shit out of your girlfriend Rhea. You knew that Rhea was in actual pain when her signature smirk wiped off her face as she got slammed onto her back again and again. You glance around, frantically making eye contact with a few of your friends that were sitting in front row with you. The mirrored horror and confusion that was on their face’s confirmed to you your very worst nightmare. None of this was planned. 

Nia just wanted to win. And she was going to do anything she could to secure that. What made it worse was when the mic and camera would pick up Rhea’s tortured facial expressions and pained groans. You were sick to your stomach as Jax slammed her onto the monitor covered desk, the ragged gasp that Rhea let out caused you to swiftly turn your head away from the match, scrunching your nose in apprehension. 

Nia’s plan failed in the end. You cheered every time Rhea kicked out of a pin, and when she won, you didn’t care that you broke character, When camera’s weren’t focusing on you, you blew Rhea a kiss, your smile growing wider as her eyes softened while she nodded back at you.

You showed more of your concern later when you both were back at the hotel. “I won didn’t I?” Rhea responds when you ask her if she’s okay. You smile before arching your brow quizzically. “If you say so hon…” you trail off kissing her cheek before wrapping your arms around her. “You worry too much.” Rhea says softer before pulling you in closer to her body. You can tell she’s flattered by the sentiment although when she kisses you quickly on the lips pulling you backwards onto the bed. “I worry too little baby,” you crow, climbing on top of her with ease. Rhea chuckles letting you straddle her, strong hands coming up to grip your waist. As she winces softly, ribs no doubt sore, you frown. “My point exactly.” You say more seriously leaning down to kiss at any skin you can reach.

You know you’ve done your job when you pull away slowly to find Rhea blushing heavily the back of her hand attempting to cover her mouth. You giggle at this scooting closer to her as Rhea’s arm snakes around your torso pulling you snug to her chest. “I love you.” She purrs smoothly, and no matter how many times you hear it, the words still make you beam, blushing as you mumble back “I love you more.” 

“You’re always so good to me.” Rhea whispers and the tone in her voice has you shivering, but nonetheless nuzzling into her to place several lewd and biting kisses to her neck. Rhea bites her lip, a whine falling past them anyways. “Are you up to this?” You say trailing your hands up— and much to Rhea’s delight, they dip under her shirt coming to massage delicate  circles to the sensitive skin of her boobs. “Fuck yes I do darling.” Rhea stutters as you lean your head on her chest, looking up at her knowingly, batting your eyelashes in a way you know she loves. 

She licks her lips as you scoot your body lower rolling up her band t-shirt as you do. “You don’t think I would want to celebrate with my girl?” She smiles, a hypnotic look of lust evident in her eyes as you kiss down her tattooed stomach. You shrug, hiding behind your hair while you pull her shorts and panties down smoothly. “Ah ah none of that my love.” Rhea looks down at you through hooded eyes. You moan softly as her hand wraps in your hair, pulling it away from your face. “Mommy wants to see you tonight sweetheart.” You laugh at her stupefied expression as you begin to suck at her clit. 

“Fuck you taste so good.” Your words are muffled and when Rhea’s thighs shake at your words, you whimper into her pussy. “Y-yeah—Jesus-you’re too-shit-too fuckin’ good to me.” Rhea repeats, her hand grips tighter in your hair and you know you’re eating her out the way she always craves. “Like this mommy?” You hum out before slowly licking down to her gushing heat. The way Rhea’s hips buck into your mouth is answer enough, but the unrestrained moan that she lets out has your own cunt throbbing with need.

Rhea’s eyes roll back when your middle and index finger slip inside her. You giggle quietly loving the reactions you can coax out of the usually stoic woman as you continue to pleasure her to the best of your abilities. And your abilities were good you thought, as Rhea let out a pleasured cry that distinctly had a mix of your name in it. “Fucking hell.” Her words are slurred as she pushes your head closer to her cunt not that you minded. 

You gasp as Rhea begins to grind against your face. A mix of curse words and praises fall from her lips as her hand comes down to grip at the sheets. You can tell she’s going to cum when her thighs start to close around your head. And when Rhea feels you moan her name softly into her she does. You can’t help but to stare, absolutely enraptured with your girlfriend’s pleasured expression.

You crawl back up to her slowly lips quirking up as Rhea swears at your debauched appearance. You were panting softly, pupils blown and darkened, a heavy pink hue painting your cheeks. Rhea groaned as she pulled you in to place a sultry kiss on your swollen lips. You lay partially atop her as she reaches to her bag on the nearby bedside table. Your smile grows absolutely unrestrained as Rhea smirks at you pulling out her purple and black strap. 

You strip as she puts it on, throwing your shirt into the room. Rhea’s longer hair falls into your face as she climbs on top of you. “Have I ever told you how much I like you with long hair?” You mumble as she kisses you once more. “Considering you tell me everyday I would think so love.” Rhea laughs, voice low and raspy.  You cling to Rhea as she rubs the tip of the dildo on your clit loving when you gasp out. “You’re so fucking sexy.” You hiccup as she finally thrusts into you. 

Rhea’s hand finds its place at your throat before she responds “That’s all you sweetheart.” You blush mouth forming an ‘o’ as Rhea quickens the pace of her hips. “Taking this so well darling.” Rhea coos to you whining when the sound of your wet heat reach her ears. Your back arches off the bed as you wrap your arms around her neck. Your voice is pitchy as you mewl out her name, Rhea muffles your cries as she drags her lips across yours yet again. 

“Such a good girl.” Rhea murmurs to you as her head dips to suck at your collarbone. Your moans warble unintelligibly as you clench around the girth of the dildo. “Rhea-I-oh my god!” You can’t even speak a full sentence with how good she’s rutting into you. Rhea knows this responding with a knowing chuckle. “Does that feel good baby?” She purrs to you lowly, hand gripping just a little bit tighter on your neck. 

You nod simply, already fucked completely dumb by her precise thrusts. Another keen slips from your lips as Rhea lifts up your legs, the position making her immediately find the part inside of you that had you writhing beneath her. “Oh there we fucking go.” Rhea sighs as your eyes roll back again. “Right there? Yeah?” She chides. She knows fully well that you couldn’t answer even if you wanted. But as you nod your head vigorously Rhea’s smirk deepens. “Right fucking there.” The gravelly timbre in her voice has you clawing at her back as she continues to pound into you.

“Fuck me…” you trail off in your wreaked state unable to get out more than a few words. “M-mommy please I- Rhea!” The tightened coil of pleasure winds deep in your belly, close to snapping. You’re so very, very close. 

“Don’t stop—don’t stop I’m-‘m gonna cum!” Rhea groans at your state grabbing gently at your face. “I don’t plan on stopping love.” She grins as you shudder. “Go ahead and make a mess sweetheart, mommy’s got you.”  Rhea squeezes again at your throat, and at her lewd words you moan out her name, coming with a hoarse cry. Rhea continues to piston her hips until you’re fucked throughly through your orgasm. As she stills, you pull her body against  yours. 

“All good?” Rhea asks smoothly, her breath hitches however when you press several love bites onto her bare chest. You nod tiredly but nonetheless brighten as Rhea draws nameless shapes into your skin gazing at you lovingly. “My pretty girl.” She whispers wrapped up in the feeling of just being with you. “My stubborn woman.” You coo back just as lovingly but you both laugh knowing how close to the truth it was.

[hexlenx]

EVEN IN OTHER UNIVERSES, I LOVE YOU. — aaron taylor-johnson

In which you came home tired from work and only just wanted to lay down on your shared-bed with your husband. Only to see five different version of said husband.

note: hello! So I have come to write another one shot or fic or whatever you call it because I couldn't help myself but write this new idea I thought of. I do hope you enjoy!

warnings!: none because we fluffy today pookie.

__________________

Sighing tiredly you let out a groan as you took a small break in your car, resting your head on the steering wheel as you closed your eyes for a few moments.

You just finished your work from helping your director write the script for the next movie you're starring. You see, you've been an actress in the industry for a long time now and even though it's tiring you continue to work through it as it is your passion. Plus, it's where you met your lovable and handsome husband. A fellow well-known actor in the industry.

The director asked for your help because you had experience in directing as well as a degree for it. So hence why you also came home late while your husband went ahead after a bit of your persuasion. Thinking of your husband, you smiled fondly. How can you be so lucky to have such a man?

While you were taking a small break from your car, said husband was sweating profusely in the kitchen with a spatula in hand while wearing a pink apron.

Looking at the five males in front of him, Aaron cursed underneath his breath.

"Fuck me."

The gate opened automatically after scanning your car's number plate. Before driving in reverse towards the garage door. Humming a soft tune you put the car on park and grabbed everything you need from the car before coming out of it.

Opening the door connected to the kitchen, you took off your shoes and hanged your coat on the hanger before calling out to your husband with a bright smile.

"Honey, I'm home!" Your smile slowly turned into worry as you were greeted by nothing. Usually you were greeted by a beaming charming smile as well as a giant hug lifting you off from your feet while being spun around by your husband.

Where could he be?

"Aaron? You there?" In slight worry you walked around the first floor of the house searching for your husband, but alas there was no sign so you moved upstairs.

There was a thump in one of the rooms when you were in the middle of walking on the stairs making you feel worry and fear when you heard a voice groaning as well as cursing. Your mind was running in a fast pace as you run up from the stairs towards the source of those noises.

No it can't be, please tell me he didn't—

The scene in front of you shocked you. The noises stopped as the figures looked at you in silence.

"Love, I can explain—" Aaron was the first to break the silence with his hands up as if he was trying not to anger you. And let me tell you, you do not want an angry wife at you.

However, instead of an angry wife. You looked like you were about to cry. You see, another thing about you is that you are quite an open and very sensitive person. Your legs gave up as you collapsed on the floor, tears running down your face as your exhaustion mixed with your anxiety was not a good combination right now.

"I—i thought you were with a w-woman—" you stuttered as your husband immediately went over you to put you in his embrace the moment your knees buckled whispering praises as well as reassurance to you. Desperately trying to calm you down. He knew you were very tired since it's about ten in the evening by now and he supposes that the noises he and the others made, made you think of something else.

His heart broke just by thinking he was doing things to another woman other than you, he cannot and will never do such a thing to you. He loves you too much to do so.

The five other male in the room looked at the scene in front of them, disbelief clear in their faces as they looked at your figure. Hearts beating uncontrollably as the younger looking male in the room muttered a name.

Your name.

This made all of you to snap your heads up to the male. Now that you look at it, they all looked just like your husband. No, actually all of them are your husband. No one can impersonate your husband unless it's your husband himself, his face is too unique to be able to copy.

"Why are there five more of you?"

Now that the situation has calmed down, you, your husband and five more of him sat in the living room in silence. Assessing the situation.

"So you're telling me that you, Dave was getting beaten up almost to death before coming here? James, you got here when you were stuck by Voldemort. Alexei, got here when you fell from your horse at full speed, head first. Tangerine, you got here after getting shot on the neck trying to kill the White Death's child and Pietro, you got shot multiple times by saving Clint from dying? Have I summarized it correctly?" You summarized outloud as the others nodded to confirm your statement. You sighed as both you and your husband looked at each other, not knowing what to do since unlike some of their worlds, you guys don't have the power to bring them back to theirs. But they all don't seem like they're hurt from their explanations. Maybe it's cuz they're in a different world.

"What were you doing before I barged in the room?" You asked your husband who looked everywhere but you.

"I was trying to give them some clothes, Dave, Pietro and James was the only one who accepted it but the other two wanted something that fit their styles." Aaron sighed as he took a sip at the coffee he made since it was getting late. He really thinks that you should rest first and let him handle it though.

"Sorry gentlemen, but it's quite late in the evening and I would like to take a nap and rest. We will take care of this tomorrow." You sent them a tired smile as you stood up from your seat and towards your bedroom upstairs, leaving all six of them in the room.

As soon as you were out of hearing range, Aaron's expression turned cold as he looked at Dave. Even if he knew the kid wouldn't hurt his wife because he played his character years ago, he will still not let loose his guard. Dave flinched from the glare and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly while the others stared at him the same way as Aaron, that's weird.

"How do you know my wife?"

This made the men's eyes go wide. Wife? That made them collectively let out a sigh of relief. Wife..

"She's also your wife?" James asked Aaron, it's kind of weird talking to yourself as he looked at the older one in wonder.

"also?" Aaron questioned.

"Yea, I mean. In my universe I married her and had Harry after we got married at twenty-one." James enthusiastically explained as his face brightened up when talking about his lover.

"Uh.. she's my girlfriend in my universe too." Dave lifted up his hand awkwardly. Though you can see that he is also happy to announce that you are his lover.

"I'm also her lover when I have escaped Hydra with my twin sister." Pietro said with a charming smile, his face brightening up whenever he mentioned his wife.

"I'm married to'er in my universe. Doll, was the only one who accepted me other than my brother." Tangerine uttered out as he lit up a cigarette before puffing it out the smoke from his mouth, where he got that from? I don't know and neither does the others.

"...she is my affair, my lover that I intend to protect with all of my soul. The only maiden who saw me for me and not some viscount." Alexei said as his eyes were clouded with the memories of his lover. Ah, how he longed to be in her arms again.

"All of us are her lovers in another universe, huh?" Aaron sighed out, his smile coming out as he thought that even in different versions of himself, he chooses you and is still with you. It makes him sigh in content and happiness as he is assured that no matter what happens, he is still with you in the end.

"Even in every other universes, I love you." All men uttered out, the atmosphere becoming serene as they sat in a few moments of silence.

Warmth filled their chests as the leaned back in their seats as their thoughts only circled in one subject.

You.

[rosenclaws]

omg your Eddie headcanons are amazing!!!

how do you think Eddie would react if someone caught him having sex with you?

Hi Thank you!! okay fun fact I went back to the movie to look for something and I got distracted and ended up watching like half the movie again oops.

warnings: MINORS DNI, casual sex, quickie.

Getting Caught with Eddie Alden

Okay so here's the deal. You work with Eddie at the Diane Roberts show. You're just a writer while he's a writer and producer of the show. So you see a lot of him and his womanizing ways are very well known throughout the whole production.

It seemed that you were his next target and at first you laughed in his face because you were not about to be added to a long list of names that have spent the night in his bed.

But for some reason he kept trying. You would think he would take the rejection and move on but he was determined. After weighing the pros and cons (plus a little bit of alcohol) you agreed. Casual only.

You fully knew that this was a one night thing for him and you wanted the same. Just good sex.

After that night well, you hate to admit it but fuck he was amazing. Like so insanely good it's a little annoying. You expected him to go back to being his cocky, slightly asshole self once you saw each other the next day but he was right back in your space.

So, maybe against your better judgement you agree to become friends with benefits.

Eddie couldn't get enough of you, it was strange because he doesn't do this, he doesn't feel this attraction but shit you did something to him. One night with you and he craved more.

So, you and Eddie are sleeping together and still working together. It's playful and there's a lot of teasing and banter and one night you both have to stay late to help write the next couple shows. Her monologue and scripting the show.

It's just the two of you and well...One thing leads to the next and Eddie has you pinned on the table. Kissing your neck and hands going right to your pants. You practically rip his shirt off, not caring that you're about to fuck on the writers table.

You two waste no time. His pants lowered just enough for him to get his dick out. It's hot and steamy and messy and fuck it feels so damn good. One of his hands is under your head, protecting it from hitting the table with each of his thrust's and the other is propping him up.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

The door slams open and you two whip your heads towards the door, totally fucking caught.

It's the night security guard. Fuck. Eddie moves to cover your as best he can as he tries to play it off. Luckily he's a pretty well liked guy and even though this is a very fireable offense he convinced the guy not to tell as long as you never do it again and disinfect the table.

When the guard leaves you are completely mortified. You want to curl up into a ball and die. Eddie tries his best to lighten the mood. It was partially his fault anyways. He cracks jokes until you laugh.

"There's that smile."

You tell him this can never happen again but he tilts his head and smirks. You throw his shirt in his face to wipe that stupid smug look off his face but he just laughs.

You two get redressed and decide to back to his place to..finish working. On the scripts of course.

The next day you can't stop replaying in your head your night with Eddie as you sit at the writers room. The smirk he gives you at the other side of the table tells you that he is thinking the same thing.

After the meeting he pulls you into a janitors closet, winking and promising you that as long as you keep quiet, no one will catch you this time.

[cherubfae]

Can you write Alastor x a Reader who works in radio? I don't think Alastor would let them on air since he doesn't seem the type to have a co host to me but maybe he'd have a intern who gets him coffee or a script writer.

"𝔦𝔱'𝔰 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔟𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔦𝔯" || {𝔞𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯}

tags: gn!sinner!reader (described to have horns but is an otherwise ambiguous demon!!), fluff, pre-established relationship, mentions of death, true crime, vox being vox lmao, jealous alastor, blood/bloody play (sorta??), Valentino is his own warning (threats of SA but nothing happens), mentions of injuries and being kidnapped (use of chloroform), implied VoxVal, no smut but still MDNI

a/n: I hope you enjoy!! This got a bit long!

Much like Alastor's life before he died, you were also quite the popular radio host for your time. Engaging, funny, and respectable. Your audience loved tuning in the early hours of the morning to you recanting the strange occurrences of the multiple killings of men from the late 1920s until that stream suddenly stopped during the year 1933 within New Orleans, Louisiana.

True crime has always been your passion, in life and in death. You certainly didn't think you'd end up in Hell for taking the life of someone trying to mug you on the street. A tall, masked man who saw to it that you'd never see the light of day again. A couple gunshot wounds to your abdomen proved effective as you rest against the wall, bleeding out onto the concrete with your soon-to-be killer lying facedown and dead mere feet from you. Killed by the very thing you sought to bring awareness towards. Quite poetic in a way.

As your gaze clouds and vision becomes unfocused, you look up at the stars. The ares around you was beautiful. It was one of your favorite parts of town, even your death wouldn't taint the beauty of the stretching oak and maple trees reaching tall towards the skies. The faint sound of smooth jazz playing from the record shop only a few paces away mixing with the swirling scent of coffee. At least you were dying in a place that you loved.

Now, here you are. In Hell. Doomed to total damnation for all fucking eternity. You'd been down here for a couple months, taking up residence near Cannibal Town, yet still unsure of what to make of all the carnage, debauchery, and depravity. You didn't think you belonged in Hell, even if you took the life that simultaneously extinguished your own.

"What's wrong, dearie? I've known you to be quiet but today you are exceptionally so." Mused Rosie, her gentle tone pulling you out of your reverie. You glanced down at your tea, sighing.

Leaning your cheek against your palm, you meet her charcoal-black eyes. Genuine concern etched onto her politely beautiful face. "I'm just feeling lost is all, I guess. I told you how I ended up in Hell, right?" Solemnly, Rosie nods.

Placing down her tea cup, Rosie wiggles towards you a bit. "Maybe you just need to find that old spark again! Something that roused you when you were alive! I have a friend who was a radio host, same as you. He may be able to have a job for you! Alastor is as charming as they come!" She grins, her mouth full of pointed teeth on full display.

Your brow quirks. "Alastor? The Radio Demon?" Rosie nods, excitedly. Alastor had been the prolific serial killer that haunted New Orleans back in the 1920s. It felt weird that the main man-- subject, you studied in life would soon be your acquaintance and potential boss in death. You'd heard many hushed tales about the aforementioned Radio Demon dealing in bartered souls and how he wreaked havoc against his fellow Overlords overnight. He definitely seemed like the kind of demon you didn't want to make light of, or worse, be on his bad side.

"He's a quirky one, for sure, but don't listen to all those rumors and gossip!" Rosie waves her hand with a laugh. "Alastor is still a gentleman and I'm sure he'd be delighted to offer you a job! Maybe you can intern for him? Besides! If he's ever rude to you, ol' Rosie will kick him in the shins! I'll wear my extra-pointy boots!" She giggles, holding your hands in hers. "You'll be in good hands, my dear! I'll let Alastor know you're coming right away!"

Staring down at the neatly folded paper in your hand, you double and triple check the address scrawled in neat calligraphy.

Hazbin Hotel.

Was it normal for a former serial killer slash radio host to become a hotelier that's trying to rehabilitate sinners?

With a shrug, you made your way up the incline taking note of the rather ominous looking radio tower jutting out from the far-right side of the hotel. A sign displaying the words on-air was currently unlit and it looked quite dark inside from what you could see from the ground. Perhaps the great Alastor wasn't at home.

Knocking on the front door, you're greeted by a tall, deer-like demon with two-toned hair and sharp yellow teeth dressed in a dapper red-pinstripe suit complete with a microphone-like cane. Scarlet eyes stare down at you like a lion watching a gazelle. You feel utterly and completely exposed, like he's peeling back your every layer, surveying you, before he even said a single word.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, my dear! Quite a pleasure! You must be the little darling that dear Rosie sent, yes?" Alastor places his hand on your lower back, guiding you past the hotel's front doors and into the welcoming comfort of the establishment's front lobby and reception area. "This is a place where wayward sinners such as yourself can find peace and be led on the path of redemption to ascend to Heaven by Hell's very own princess, Charlie Morningstar!"

On queue, a blonde-haired girl sprints up to you squealing and flailing her arms a bit. She takes her hands in yours and offers you a big, delighted smile. You like her immediately. "Oh, my gosh! Welcome, welcome to Hazbin Hotel! I see you've met our gracious host Alastor! He's mentioned that you're going to be interning for him-- how exciting! We are so thankful to have you!"

With the attention directed back at him, Alastor grins with a whine of radio static. It was the equivalent of a lazy smirk with his half-lidded scarlet eyes taking you in one more, searching for any potential risks you may pose though you didn't intend any of that sort. You felt your skin begin to heat the longer his gaze remained on you, and hesitantly break the eye contact with the demon in favor of Charlie, who has been excitedly talking about all of the hotel's features.

To think, all those months ago had been the start of your journey with your friends. You had felt so out of place in Hell, in your new skin, uncomfortable with the weight of sharp horns protruding your skin and the strength of your clawed hands. You were quite pleasantly surprised at what you could withstand now as a demon.

"I brought your coffee, sir." Alastor hums out a soft 'thank you' yet continues to fiddle with the buttons and tracks on his console, not raising his head to look at you. "Rosie gave me some venison for you. She said aid it's your favorite when it's fresh and raw." Placing Alastor's simple black coffee on a small side table, you revere your boss with a fond expression. Rosie had been truthful she said he was the charming sort. There certainly was an air of respectability about him that men lacked from your time.

"Our dear Rosie is certainly a clever one, and she is quite correct. There is no better way to enjoy meat than having it served fresh. Preferably off the bone but this will do." Alastor tilts his head, turning to the side to regale you from the corner of his eyes. Those damn beautiful scarlet gems. "Something the matter, my dear?" Alastor's voice is a soft crackle.

Stumbling in surprise, you wrack your brain for a plausible answer. When you find none, you shake your head from side to side cursing the heat that sets your cheeks ablaze.

Alastor smirks, standing from his stool and approaches you. He grasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger; his claw lightly dragging across your lower lip. Blood beads up following the path his claw created. He swipes it up, licking it in front of you.

"Tasty," Alastor grins, leaning down and bumping his nose into yours. "As I said, meat is best when fresh." He squeezes your cheek lightly, chuckling at the exudes into his palm. "If I wasn't certain, I'd say you have a little crush on me, hmm?" He turns his back to you, those damned scarlet eyes that see straight through your soul strike you where you stand. "That'll be all now, dearest. Thank you for your time and your blood."

You couldn't get out of there fast enough. You weren't afraid of him, no, you were more scared of kissing him now more than ever. A fantasy of both of you pressed tight to one another with mouths soaked in blood would be all you can think of for hours.

Whatever was going on between you and Alastor continued on much like a game of cat and mouse only he seemed to be going out of his way more and more to fluster you, saying things that would catch you off guard.

"I don't think of myself as much of a man who desires a relationship beyond friends and family, but cohabitating with you as lifelong partners does sound desirable."

"Hmm, tell me. Are your horns sensitive?" His breath ghosts then one day, causing you to shriek and cover them. You pout, turning your head to glare at him. Alastor's grin only seemed to stretch further. "Only teasing, darling, no need to get so uppity."

It was a slow evening, Alastor had sent you off on another errand. There was a sense of apprehension worrying his brow, glancing at the analog clock. The hour hand strikes the 3am mark. He'd sent you off almost an hour and a half ago, so where were you?

Interference crackles onto his radio, Alastor hissing as the feedback screeches. With ears pinned back, his eyes narrowed further when a familiar voice crosses.

"Ugh, I will never understand why thr fuck you use this shit, Alastor." Groaned Vox. "Anyway, I got your cute assistant here. You should see them, shaking like a leaf." The radio glitches in tune with Vox's laughter. "Valentino here has been itching for a new plaything, doesn't that sound good, sweetheart? Maybe we can broadcast that for all of Hell to see, right Al--"

Smash. Alastor's fist smashes through the radio cutting off Vox's boastful rant.

On the other side of the city, Vox blinks in confusion. "I lost the radio signal? Oh, fuck, God this shit is so old." He sighs, leaning back in his chair. Spinning around, he gives you a wry smirk. "Guess we'll see if the Great Alastor comes to rescue his lost pup, hmm?"

Glowering at him, left bound and gagged, sitting on the cold, hard floor. Valentino gives a harsh tug on your hair, your teeth sinking into the cotton gag shoved in your mouth, a muffled grunt leaving you.

An electric feeling in the air has your hair rising. Vox and Valentino share a confused look. A large fist blasts inside of the V Tower, claws sharp as they did through the metal like it was butter.

"Oh, fuck, it's Alastor!" Vox shrieks, scrambling to get away from the broken window. A second fist smashes through sending Vox into the opposing wall with a deep thud. Valentino runs to his friend's aid, helping him up.

"Well, this is what you wanted, honey."

Vox groans in protest. "I know."

Green electricity crackles, a dark shadow pooling into the room and with a shriek, manifests into Alastor.

Paying the two no mind, Alastor crosses the threshold and kneels down before you. His clawed fingers are gentle as he removes the gag around your bruised mouth. "Sorry it took me so long, mon cour." A tentacle bursts through his back, spiraling directly into Vox and Valentino, sending the two into the neighboring room with a loud crash.

Scooping you into his arms, Alastor calmly walks through to the next room, his hand cupping the back of your head. "Rest." He regards the other two males with a snarling crackle.

"If I didn't have more important matters to attend to, I would eviscerate you two gents. Touch what is mine again and I'll broadcast your fucking screams all over Hell." Alastor hums, exiting V Tower.

"Holy shit! Did you see?? He finally sees me as his rival!" Vox cheers, tossing both arms into the air in celebration.

Valentino sighs, "Honey, you need psychiatric help."

"This may sting, but I trust that you can handle it." Alastor says, rubbing off the blood from your brow with a cotton ball doused in isopropyl alcohol. Wincing softly, you take the moment to look at him closely. You'd never seen Alastor so disheveled. Even with dealing with enemies, he was always composed. But, tonight, he had been anything but the picture of composure. He looked positively feral.

"Is there something about my face you find interesting, dearest?"

Squeaking, your face flushes, shaking your arms frantically. Gasping you quickly place a hand to your ribs. Guess they really did fracture something when they knocked you out.

Alastor stills your hands with his own. "Easy now, pet. You're in no state to be moving around like an interpretive mime. I was only teasing you, my dearest. You had me worried tonight."

Hanging your head low, you turn your gaze away. "I'm sorry, Alastor. I don't know how they got the drop on me. I was walking home and smelled something odd--," you gasped in realization. "Chloroform. It had to be."

Alastor growled tensely at that. He tied the bandage around your arm and with a snap of his fingers the medical kit disappeared and a serving tray appeared carrying a kettle full of hot chocolate and a staple 1920s dessert: pound cake. This one was drizzled with a bitter chocolate and filled with strawberries.

Alastor takes your hand and gently kisses your knuckles. "Care to join me for a treat?" His tone was a touch more gentle than it had been a heartbeat ago. You smile, nodding eagerly. He grins and begins to cut the cake, serving you first. "One more thing."

Softly, Alastor kisses your cheek. It was the lightest of touches and over as soon as it happened. He busies himself by pouring two mugs of steaming hot chocolate, the apples of his cheeks were a rosy hue.

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

[foreverisntenough]

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend.  You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy? 

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Chapter 5 - Together or Apart| ‘Movie Night'

word count - 10.7k

Since Trent had texted, casually inviting you over to watch a film, you’d been an absolute mess. You stood in front of your closet, staring at your options—were jeans too dressed up? That felt ridiculous to say but then again so often you found yourself in leggings or joggers around him. Your brain hurt from how many different thoughts were swirling in your head. Was this just an organized booty call, an easy fuck for him? Was this a date or were you just two people picking up right where you left off? Your mind spun, nerves flipping from excitement to anxiety. You finally settled on something comfortable with a little bit of a fitter top, trying to preserve the image you and Layla had so perfectly crafted. You wanted to find that balance between effortless and intentional so you wore a pair of cargo pants, easy but comfortable, a white tank top, and a pair of trainers Trent had complimented before.  

He told you he’d pick you up tonight at your house. It made you start to question even further what tonight meant. Was that a good thing or a bad thing… Him coming to pick you up was sweet but was it on purpose so there would be no trace of your car at his house? So when the time came and he told you he was out front, you hesitated. He offered to come up to the front door but somehow that felt like too much. Jack wasn’t home, but it still felt almost disrespectful for Trent to come up, to let him walk in knowing very well what could happen if he did. And then you remembered there were the security cameras. The last thing you needed was any suspicious footage. So, you slipped on your trainers and grabbed your bag and headed out. When you got into his car, you barely made it past the seatbelt click before the tension overwhelmed you both. The air felt thick, and before you knew it, you were leaning over the center console, fingers gripping onto his hair as his mouth met yours. His hands almost coaxing you to come sit on his lap, squeezing your thighs. It was intense, desperate, like you’d been holding back for far too long. Just as your hands moved their way down to the soft fabric of his shirt, headlights from a passing car in the neighborhood flooded the interior, snapping you back to reality. You pulled back suddenly, catching your breath, cheeks flushed.

“Okay, T…” You mumbled out of breath before Trent tried to pull you back in for more. “Okay…” You giggled. “Alright. We need to chill out,” you muttered, half laughing, half embarrassed at the lack of control. You shook your head, trying to gather yourself, but Trent just smirked, his eyes bright with mischief.

“Yeah, relax. Practice some self-control,” he teased, his voice dripping with sarcasm. You shot him a look, ready to protest, but he was already moving, turning on the engine of the car with one hand while the other reached for you, pulling you close again as he pressed a kiss to your temple. His voice dropped, barely a whisper. “You’re so easy to wind up. Gotta relax, pretty girl.” The warmth of his words, his teasing tone, it melted whatever composure you had left. Trent’s hand lingered on your leg as he drove, his thumb tracing circles, setting off tiny shocks that pulsed up your spine.

“I’m not much of a cook, so I ordered takeaway.” Trent told you once inside his house, you’d been at plenty of times before but right now it felt entirely new. He pulled up the order on his phone, tracking its progress as he leaned against the kitchen counter with a casual smirk. You nodded as you admired at just how unfairly pretty he seemed to look in any light; it never mattered how harsh or how soft; the kitchen’s overhead lighting proving to be no different. 

“It’s fine with me because I know you’re not much of a cook.” You teased as you folded your arms, raising an eyebrow. Trent rolled his eyes making you smile. “But can you even have this right now? You’re in season… Don’t they watch what you eat?” You asked him knowing his takeaway of choice was a Chinese.  Trent let out a low laugh, shrugging.

 “Yeah, technically. Call it a cheat day.  Just don’t tell the gaffer,” he teased, reaching out his pinky to you in a playful promise.

“A pinky promise?” you asked, arching an eyebrow as you hooked your pinky with his. But he held onto it, glancing down as he pressed a kiss to his own hand. His eyes lifted to meet yours with a mischievous gleam. 

“Yeah, a pinky promise is binding. Now, you’ve gotta kiss it too.” He told you. You hesitated, feeling a nervous flutter in your stomach. There was a soft challenge in his gaze, and the air between you went quiet. With a shy smile, you leaned in, brushing your lips over your own hand, barely touching but letting the tension linger. “That’s better.” His voice was soft, but a trace of amusement edged it. Then he smiled, looking down as if he was seeing you for the first time, something genuine and unguarded in his face. “Y’know, if you really want it to count, you gotta seal it with a proper kiss.” He cooed as he pulled you into his arms, a gentle but firm embrace that made you feel safe and somehow, more nervous all at once. He noticed. He could always read you like a book and right now it was no different. “What’s got you acting so shy?” he asked, chuckling as you hid your face against his chest. His heartbeat was steady, calming, but you still couldn’t shake the self-consciousness creeping over you.

“Stop,” you murmured, laughing against his shirt. “You’re making me nervous.” He tilted your chin up, thumb brushing over your cheek. 

“Why would I make you nervous, pretty girl?” he teased, his eyes dancing as they searched yours. “Only me.” He reminded you gently but it was just that… it was ‘only Trent.’ You and him alone. 

“It’s just… I don’t know,” you stammered, smiling at your own inability to explain.

“Y'know... We’ve already kissed tonight.” He reminded you with a smug smirk. 

“Yeah, but no… it’s–” You couldn’t formulate any valid reason. This was Trent. The Trent you knew so well, you knew so well that you knew he shouldn’t be having a Chinese tonight but also the one you knew so well you’d never want to eat his cooking either. And then the doorbell rang, saving you from digging any deeper into the feelings swirling inside you.

“Well” Trent said as he released you. “When you’re ready… whenever you want…you come kiss me.” He winked, sending you one last smile before heading to the door. When he returned with the food, he set out each container on the kitchen island, opening them one by one. He lifted the lid off a familiar dish, and you noticed instantaneously it was your favorite. Your heart skipped a beat, touched that he’d remembered something so small.

“You… you got my favorite?” you asked softly with a slight giggle, the question more to yourself. He looked up, catching the surprise in your eyes. You felt a bit guilty for acting so weird earlier because just as well as you knew him… he knew you. You’d almost forgotten that amongst your nerves. 

“Yeah,” he said, simply, like it was obvious. “I know what you like.” Something shifted in the air between you both, something that felt as heavy as it did easy. He went back to unboxing the food, his focus turning to unwrapping the utensils, but you couldn’t resist the urge to move closer to him. Coming around the island, you slid your arms around his waist, resting your head against his shoulder. He stilled for a moment, then softened into your touch, a quiet smile crossing his face. You giggled softly, feeling playful and carefree as you wrapped your arms around Trent's waist from behind. His warm, muscular body felt incredible against yours, as you began kissing his neck, leaving a trail of soft pecks and nibbles. Trent's reaction was immediate. He turned to face you swiftly, his hands grasping your waist and pulling you tightly against him. Your bodies collided, igniting a spark of electricity that sent shivers down your spine.

“Hey,” you murmured to grab his attention, gently tilting his face to meet yours, leaning in for a slow, tender kiss. This time, you let yourself linger, let your hands trail up to cup his face as he pulled you closer. You could feel his breath against your lips as he kissed you back, slower this time, savoring the moment. His hand slipped to the small of your back, holding you close. He whispered something soft against your lips, a quiet promise that you could feel even if you couldn’t hear it. You kissed him again slow… steady and sexy. 

“Wow…” He whispered with a pause. “Baby, I didn’t know you were gonna kiss me like that.” He smiled, unable to pull away too far from your lips.

“Should we eat now?” You asked with a teasing smirk, your lips ghosting over his, not really meaning your suggestion. 

“Nah, Shhh… Kiss me again, just like that.” He whispered, pulling you in again. Your lips meeting. The food, forgotten for the moment. His hand drifted up, brushing over your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear as he looked at you with a warmth that made you feel like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. His fingers traced your jaw, lingering at your chin.  The scent of spices and fried rice filled the room, but neither of you seemed interested in food anymore. Your bodies were hungry for something else entirely.

"See… I told you I know what you like." Trent whispered, his breath hot against your ear. His hands roamed freely over your body, exploring your curves and driving you wild with desire.

"Maybe." you teased as he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he placed you to the kitchen counter. The cold marble surface felt refreshing against your skin as he set you down, keeping you close to him, your boobs pressing against his hard chest as he held you close.

"I know you like being dirty for me, huh?" He mocking asked you before his lips claimed yours in a hungry kiss, your hands found their way under his shirt, eager to feel the smooth, defined muscles of his back. You pulled his shirt up, breaking the kiss momentarily to help him get it over his head. The sight of Trent's toned, tanned torso made your mouth water. He was a work of art, and you couldn't wait to explore every inch of him.His hands worked quickly, unhooking your bra with skilled fingers, freeing your full, perky tits, he’d told you he loved. He bent his head, taking a taut nipple into his mouth, and sucking gently, causing you to gasp and arch your back. His tongue teased and flicked, sending waves of pleasure through your body. With his free hand, he cupped your other boob, thumb rubbing the sensitive peak, making you moan softly. "You like when I play with you, don't you?" Trent murmured against your skin, his voice deep and husky. His hands moved downward, sliding off your trousers, revealing more of you. You lifted your hips to help him, eager for his touch. His fingers found the damp fabric of your panties, and he gently traced the outline of your pussy, making you squirm with anticipation. "That’s right, innit? He asked again and you whimpered

"Please, Trent," you whined, your voice hoarse with need. "I want you." Trent chuckled, the sound sending a thrill through you. 

"Oh, I know you do, baby. And I want you too. I’m fucking starving." He smirked moving a container of food that was a little too close to you both. He was hungry for anything but that right now. With that, he slid his fingers under the lace of your panties, finding your wetness and dipping a finger inside. You were already so aroused, and his touch sending you over the edge. You moaned loudly, your head falling back as your body surrendered to the pleasure.

“Baby. that’s…fuck..that’s so good.” Your squeezed your eyes shut tightly feeling a pleasure only Trent had ever given you course through your body. His cock twitched at your breathy moans and whimpers. He tugged at your lower lip with his teeth as he worked his magic, his fingers moving in and out, adding a second finger to stretch and fill you. When he dipped another finger into your wet heat, he pulled another deep moan from you and in an attempt to push you closer to the edge, he curled his fingers even further against that one spot and pressed his thumb against your clit harder. Your hands gripped the edge of the counter, your knuckles turning shades lighter as you rode his hand, seeking release. “Please keep going, T, I’m so close, I’m-fuck.” You whined his name, juices dripping down your legs and his hand, tears forming on your lash lines from the stimulation. 

"That's it. Good girl." Trent encouraged, his breath hot on your neck as he nibbled on your sensitive skin. “Fuck yourself on my fingers.” He commanded. You couldn’t stop yourself. He curled them further inside, finding your g spot fast, refusing to let up. You rode his fingers, your moans only getting louder as the harsh circles around your clit intensified. You let out a soft cry as you rocked your hips onto his hand.  "Cum for me, let me feel you." His words pushed you further, and with a final, desperate thrust of his fingers, you climaxed. Your body shook, and a wave of pleasure washed over you, leaving you breathless and boneless. Trent held you gently, his fingers still inside you, as the aftershocks rippled through your body. Carefully and gently he lifted you off the counter, his strong arms making you feel weightless. You giggled, slightly delicious from your high,  but feeling playful and free as he carried you to the living room, your legs dangling, brushing against his hard thighs.  He laid you gently on to the couch, handling you delicately but his eyes burning with desire as he gazed down at you. You reached up for him, wanting to feel his naked skin against yours. Trent obliged, quickly shedding his clothes, revealing his chiseled physique. Your eyes traced the lines of his body, lingering on his thick, erect cock, standing proudly between his legs.

"I want you inside me, T," you whispered, your voice laced with longing. He climbed on to the massive sofa, his body covering yours, his hands pinning your wrists above your head. 

"You want it bad, huh, baby?" he teased, his lips brushing against yours.  You nodded, your eyes pleading. Trent's lips claimed yours in a hungry kiss, his tongue dancing with yours as he ground his hips against you, his cock rubbing against your wetness, teasing you. You whimpered, desperate for him to fill you.

"Please, baby, " you begged, your breath coming in short gasps. "Fuck me. Please I promise I’ll be a good girl again for you, T." You whined. Trent smirked not mockingly, just almost euphoric like he couldn’t believe that his dream of having you beg for his cock was happening in real time. And so, Trent happily obliged, positioning himself at your entrance. With one smooth thrust, he slid deep inside you, filling you completely. You cried out, your body adjusting to his size, embracing the stretch and fullness. When you gave him the go ahead, he began to move, his hips snapping forward, driving into you with a pace that had you crying out with each stroke. 

"Yeah, that's it, take my cock." he grunted, his voice rough with desire.The sounds were pornographic. “There she is. Such a good girl. You love my cock, don't you?" He asked you. You lifted your leg up for him to throw it over his shoulder fucking you at a new angle harder, deeper.  

“It’s so fucking good. Fuck! — Fuck you feel so big.” You babbled lost in the throes of pleasure. Trent fucked you with a primal intensity, his hands gripping your hips rasing them slightly, leaving marks on your skin. He was fucking you stupid, your mind had gone completely blank, your vision blurred. After you changed the angle, lifting one of your legs, it caused you to bite down harshly on his shoulder. He moaned in pleasurable pain. His whole length repeatedly hitting your g spot, sending you both into a blissful haze. He was leant forward, his mouth finding your nipple, sucking and biting gently as he thrust, creating a symphony of sensations that drove you wild.

"You're squeezing me so tight, baby," he groaned, his breath hot against your neck. "Want me to make you cum again, pretty girl?" He asked but all you could do was nod desperately, your chest heaving.  He reached between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing and circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. The combination of his cock pounding into you and his skilled fingers was too much to bear. You arched your back, offering yourself to him, your body ready to explode.

"Yeah– shit! T, right there!" you cried out, your voice high and desperate. He increased the pace, his fingers working in sync with his thrusts. You climaxed with a force that surprised even yourself, your body trembling and legs shaking as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. 

“Fuck, you’re my good girl, baby.” He hummed, his breathing getting heavier by the second. His cock was soaked in your slick as he rolled his hips roughly into you.  “Fuck!” He cried out. “Baby I gotta cum.” He was at his limit desperate to release. You could only nod again Your own high still continuing to roll on. His harsh movements came to a halt as he buried himself deeper inside you. “Ah Shit.” Trent grunted, his body stiffening as he came, filling you with his warmth, his throbbing cock pulsing inside you. Pumping you full with his cum while pressing his lips to yours. You both laid into each other's sweaty bodies, foreheads resting on the other.  Gasping for breath, you clung to each other, your hearts racing. Trent gently kissed your neck, his hands stroking your skin, providing comfort and reassurance. You reveled in the intimacy of the moment, feeling utterly satisfied and exhausted. “You okay, baby?” He whispered. You could only hum, your face hidden in the crook of his neck. You kissed at his skin lazily. “You sure? Was I too rough?” Trent nervously and quietly asked. Trent didn’t want to hurt you. He had protected you for years. The thing was now… things were different. Really different. If Trent was ever rough with girls before in bed he usually didn’t care too much but he had always taken care of you and it only amplified now.  Obviously it would never be the goal to hurt someone but with sex like that, rough sex like that… with you... he needed to make sure you were okay.

“I’m okay, T. Just tied from all that.” You giggled sleepily, your voice barely audible. You gave him a soft smile, tucking your head back against his shoulder as you nuzzled into him. You could feel him smile as he held you closer. The two of you laid there, wrapped in each other, forgetting everything else just for the moment. But once you realized almost over an hour had passed since the food arrived, though neither of you had paid much attention to it, you definitely were hungry now post workout… or well… post sex. Trent got up, making sure you were okay, cleaned up and all set on the sofa as he popped off back to the kitchen to reheat the food and bring it back for you two to finally eat. Now sprawled comfortably on the couch, a mess of takeout containers scattered around, both of you too wrapped up in each other to worry about making it neat. Wrapped only in blankets, clothes long forgotten, and each other, there was something thrillingly raw and uninhibited about the whole scene.

You watched on as Trent struggled with his chopsticks, holding them awkwardly and missing the noodles each time. 

“You’ve been shit at that for years. Literally zero improvement.” You held out a fork for him with a grin. You couldn’t help but laugh, playfully teasing him. But he shook his head stubbornly. 

“Nah, nah, I’m not that bad. These noodles are just slippery, and—�� he rambled, an adorable frustration flashing across his face. He pouted a little, and you chuckled, leaning in to kiss him, wiping away his frown. 

“It’s cute, you know,” you said, running your hand over his thigh. The bashful way he looked down, as if trying to hide his little smile, only made him more endearing. He looked back up at you, his eyes twinkling with a smirk. Trent loved to be praised even if it was just for simply existing. And he was as cute as you said; his pouty lips and puppy dog eyes staring back at you pretending he didn’t know he was. Until his cheeky charm came roaring back. 

“Yeah, well, I’m cute what can I say; it’s a redeeming quality of mine. You’re almost as cute as me… depends on the day,” he shot back with a wink, his grin widening. You laughed, your heart flipping at his boyish charm. The way he blended playfulness with this gentle confidence was one of the things you loved most. Sitting there, eating together, feeling this giddy warmth bloom between you, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so effortlessly at ease. The two of you lounged together, tangled up in the cozy mess of blankets and takeout containers, laughing at the smallest things. It was pure, unguarded comfort, and you hadn’t realized how much you’d longed for this feeling until now—just being with someone, laughing until it hurt, without any pretense. Trent’s chopsticks continued to wobble in his hand as he tried again, narrowing his eyes in concentration. He was treating it like a personal challenge, refusing to let some noodles get the best of him, his brow furrowed like he was plotting out strategy. You stifled another laugh, and he caught it, glancing up with a mock-offended look. “Aye! I’m not that bad!” he protested, dropping the chopsticks with a defeated sigh and reaching for a fork instead. You snickered, resting your head on his shoulder as you passed him the fork with a knowing look.

“Maybe I’m just better with the chopsticks,” you teased. He let out an exaggerated scoff, rolling his eyes. 

“Better at what? Eating?  Doubtful,” he said, leaning over to nudge you. But there was a softness to his gaze, an unspoken admiration as he looked down at you. “Even if you are better at some things,” he added, trailing off, his voice dropping to a murmur. You tried not to look surprised but you weren’t sure you’d ever heard Trent actually concede, not even halfway like that. “I’m better at a few things, too.” He added in true Trent fashion. 

“Oh, yeah? Name one,” you challenged, grinning as you tilted your head up at him. You knew just how to get Trent to bite. With a playful smirk, he leaned closer until his face was just inches from yours. 

“This,” he whispered, before his lips captured yours in a deep, slow kiss that made you melt. It wasn’t rushed or hungry; it was patient and full of warmth, as if he had all the time in the world to savor you. When he pulled back, his eyes scanned over your face as if to commit every detail to memory. There was an unmistakable pride there, like he knew the effect he had on you. “See?” he said softly, still holding your gaze. “Told you I’m better at some things.” You blushed, laughing as you wrapped your arms around him. 

“Alright, alright. You’re a good kisser but don’t act like I’m bad or something.” You giggled, laying your head on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

“Nah, course not. You’re world class as well, baby.” He cooed gently, kissing your forehead.  For a while, you both just sat in silence, content. He absentmindedly played with your hair, occasionally twirling a strand around his finger. At one point, you looked up, catching him staring at you again, his expression soft, as though he were seeing you for the first time. 

“What?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. He shook his head, his fingers grazing your cheek as he spoke.

 “Nothing. Just… I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.” He smiled softly, his eyes filled with warmth.

“Like what?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“Like… relaxed,” You raised your brow trying not to be offended. He laughed lightly. “Nah, hold on…” He could sense your offense. “ I meant you just seem calm right now. Just before…even with me, it always had to be rushed, it always had to be sneaky and right now… you just look happy.” He said, his voice full of a warmth that melted right into you. He brushed his thumb over your cheek, smiling gently. “I like it. A lot.”

“Are you trying to say you make me happy?” You questioned a little mockingly. He hummed with assurance. You felt your heart flutter, something in his eyes settling deep within you. “Well, you’re right…You do. And I hope I do that for you too… at least a little bit,” you whispered back, a soft smile spreading across your face as you nestled closer to him.

“Yeah, pretty girl. A lot of bit.” he cooed, leaning to peck the tip of your nose. “You always have but this… this right here is better than ever before.” He softly whispered. In that moment, everything else faded—the worries, the risks, even the questions of what you both were doing or where this would go. For now, this was enough. Just you, him, and the quiet intimacy that filled the room. You sat there for a long while rattling between eating, kissing, and watching TV. “We should do this more “Trent said as he moved on the couch putting his food down. 

“T, we eat dinner and watch films like every other week” you smiled. You did. You ate dinner probably once a week together except… well, Jack was also there. 

“You know that’s not what I meant.” He feigned annoyance pulling you into him.  “But nah, I don't mean those nights because I rarely get to have my hands on you like this. Hmm?” He clarified. 

“Yeah,” you sighed at the reality but also agreeing, loving the current warmth of him. 

“Yeah? And you like when my hands are on you, right?” He cooed and you hummed. “I know just what you like, baby.” He leaned in, his lips barely brushing yours, and you felt the familiar flutter in your chest, the way just his presence seemed to pull you in. He could feel the way your body melted. "See?" he whispered, his voice laced with that playful edge. "I know exactly what you like." You giggled, trying to play it off, but there was no denying how much you did like this, how every small touch felt electric. 

"Confident, aren't we?" you teased, resting your hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. He grinned, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your lower back. 

"Yeah. You love it when I'm like this," he smirked, leaning back, but pulling you down with him until you were nestled against him on the couch, his hands holding you close. You hummed because it wasn’t when he was like ‘this.’ ‘This’ was just Trent. Confident and cheeky. And getting to have this Trent all to yourself with no prying eyes was a dream. You couldn't help but smile, feeling his warmth and the gentle way he was looking at you, the humor gone from his expression, replaced with something softer, something that felt more than just casual. You bit your lip, unable to hold his gaze for too long, and he just chuckled, tilting your chin up so you'd meet his eyes again. "I meant it," he said, his voice low and earnest. "We really should do this more." There was a pause, and in that brief silence, you felt the weight of what he was saying. It wasn't just about tonight, or even the past few times you'd been together. It was about something more, something you hadn't really let yourself think about until now.

"Maybe we could," you said softly, feeling your face warm as you looked down, only to feel his fingers tilting your chin back up, his eyes softening as he watched you.

"Yeah?" he murmured, his hand slipping up to cradle the back of your neck. "Then maybe it's not just up to me, is it?" He smirked. And with that, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, deep kiss that seemed to say all the things you both were afraid to.

After clearing up the remnants of your Chinese takeaway, you stood in the kitchen, stacking the last of the plates in the dishwasher. Trent followed closely behind, observing you with a smirk on his lips. His gaze was warm, his eyes dancing with a familiar playfulness that always made your heart flutter.

“Wow,” he teased, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed and a mischievous look in his eyes. “Look at you. Really are wifey, innit?” You glanced over your shoulder at him, rolling your eyes at his comment.

“Oh, shut up,” you retorted, but the smile tugging at your lips gave away your amusement. You couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth at the playful compliment, even if you tried to act unbothered. Trent didn’t let up, stepping forward with that grin still plastered on his face. 

“Nah, I mean it,” he said, his voice softening slightly as he drew closer. “I’ve always known you’re good with all this stuff. The little things. The considerate things. Things other people overlook.”  You felt a warmth spread through you at his sincerity, and you turned to face him fully, drying your hands on a towel, leaning your back against the island across from him as you looked up at him.

“Yeah?” you asked, tilting your head, a playful lilt in your voice. Trent’s expression softened further, the humor still present but tinged with something more tender. “You’ve clearly never lived with Jack and my dad.” You cooed, reminding him that this consideration was more survival and necessity than anything else. Trent sympathetically smiled realizing there was something much deeper behind why you took care of things the way you did. 

“Nah.Y/N, look. I'm not talking about that. I mean I am but I'm not. I don’t want to talk about... them guys,” he continued, referring to past relationships,  his voice growing serious for a moment, “because they don’t deserve the breath, but all those other lads? They were fucking idiots for losing a girl like you.” Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you couldn’t help but tease him, trying to keep the moment light even though his sincerity made your chest ache. All of it, the hurt of your past and how easily he seemed to salve it. 

“Oh, really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “And why exactly is that?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.  “Because I’m so great at, what, doing the dishes?” You teased. Trent sighed but then let out a deep chuckle realizing maybe this wasn't the time for his serious compliment. And so his laughter echoing the kitchen making you smile. 

“Nah,” he said, stepping even closer and reaching out to pull you by the waist. You squirmed as he picked you up, dragging you back to the living room, only your combined laughter filling the space momentarily. He tugged you down onto the couch with him. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight and pressing a flurry of silly, cheeky kisses all over your face, making you giggle more. “No, baby,” he murmured between kisses, “because you’re kind, and thoughtful, and beautiful, and even with your flaws, you’re still perfect.” he listed, his hands sliding up your sides, pulling your top up with them as he spoke. You pulled back just slightly, eyeing him with suspicion. 

“Flaws?” you questioned, your tone light with mock offense. He giggled, a true cheeky Trent giggle as he picked up the TV remote from the armrest beside him. “Excuse me?” You leaned into his touch, a teasing smile spreading across your face. He smiled deviously, taking the opportunity to snake one of his arms around you completely and pull you tightly into him, his other hand navigating what was on the telly.

“Yeah,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. “Like, for one, you’re not very good at watching films. You talk a lot during them. You yap more than me and that says a lot.” He smirked cheekily. You gasped, playfully shoving him away but not really going anywhere because his arm stayed wrapped around you

“Oh, okay. Really? I see,” you said, leaning into the banter. “Seems like you watch a lot of films with someone you think is bad to watch with.” You fired back, your voice full of mock indignation. Trent’s eyes softened, and he smiled, leaning in to kiss your temple, his lips lingering there for a moment.

“Nah, nah, nah,” he laughed, leaning his forehead against yours, his eyes crinkling at the corners from how wide his smile had become. “I said you’re bad at watching them. But you’re the best to watch with. My favorite to watch with, actually.” He corrected softly, his voice a murmur as he brushed his nose against yours before pulling you into a comfortable cuddle. You felt your heart skip at his words, and you nuzzled closer, the warmth of his embrace wrapping around you, your hands moving to rest on his chest. 

“Well, I guess that makes it okay, then,” you whispered, a smile spreading across your face as you settled into him, feeling perfectly content. “You’re really good at this whole sweet-talking thing, aren’t you?” you whispered, your voice teasing but your eyes full of affection. He pulled you closer, his lips brushing your temple again before pressing a kiss there, lingering for a moment.

“I’m not sweet-talking, pretty girl” he murmured against your skin. “I mean it… You don’t shut up….” Your jaw slacked. “ And I love it.” He told you, shutting your mouth closed with his hand and kissing your lips. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms in the warmth of the room. You nestled your head against his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong. He kissed the top of your head, and you closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the feeling. “Alright,” he announced, his voice full of playful determination. “Movie time.”

“A movie? Really? After you just insulted my film-watching abilities?” You raised an eyebrow, laughing. He grinned. 

“Exactly,” he said, pulling you down beside him. “I invited you over for a film and I was thinking.... maybe I can keep your lips busy.” He cheekily cooed with a wink. The innuendo had your mind racing, your heart pumping and your pussy pulsing.  

“Maybe we should find the list of the top 100 most boring movies.” You suggested. Suddenly you could feel the tides turning again. The sexual tension in the room rising fast.

“Why?” Trent naively asked almost instinctively forgetting the direction he was just forging but then quickly remembered what you were insinuating. He laughed at himself. His desire for you very quickly out ranking that for any movie.

“I mean, maybe that’s why I’m no good at this whole watching films thing. I think I just love a movie that can't hold my attention… besides, usually someone else has it.” You smirked. Your hand moving to run over his thigh, moving higher and higher up. 

“Fair, baby. Because we’ve watched some classics together and I barely remember a thing. Got me more locked in on you.” He cooed, the warmth of your subtle compliment lingering. You giggled nuzzling into his neck, your lips nibbling on his skin, your hand inching higher.

“Guess I should be flattered then, huh? Competing with the classics is no small feat,” you teased, but inside, you felt the excitement, horniness and a hint of vulnerability. He pulled your face off his neck and  brushed a strand of hair from your face, his gaze soft. 

“You’re much better than any movie.” He paused, as if choosing his words carefully, his thumb grazing your cheek. “...Honest.” You swallowed, taken off guard by how sincere he sounded. The easy sexy  banter had faded momentarily, leaving something quiet, something that felt new and serious. 

“Trent,” you whispered, your voice catching slightly.

“Yeah, pretty girl?” he asked, smiling as he tried to read your expression, a hint of nervousness flashing in his eyes. You shifted, heart racing as you tried to find the right words. 

“I just… I like….” You paused , almost afraid to look at him, trying to decide how open you should be, how vulnerable you should be or if you should just throw reality to the wind and let your hormones continue taking over. You went with neither. “I like watching movies with you.” You admitted, but it wasn’t really what you wanted to say. When you met his gaze you felt like you saw the same openness you were feeling retreat, just as yours did. He didn’t hesitate though, pulling you closer, his arms wrapping around you.

“Me too.” He grinned, his tone lightening just enough to make you smile again. “How about we pick a movie that’ll actually let us watch for, like, let’s give ten minutes a go. Tops.” He smirked at you, placing his hand over yours moving it back to palm over his hardening cock.  You laughed, your face falling back into his neck, your lips returning to kiss his skin. 

“Deal,” you whispered, feeling perfectly at home in his arms and perfectly turned on to do a little more than watch a movie.

You sat on the edge of your bed, phone clutched in your hand, staring at the last message you’d sent Trent hours ago. He hadn’t replied, which was fine, you reminded yourself. He had an away game tomorrow, he was busy, and maybe this thing—whatever it was—wasn’t supposed to mean much to him. He’d said things recent enough, especially that night at his house where maybe you thought it did but then again… you tried to remind yourself, he was only a boy at the end of the day, he very well could be just like all the others. You’d been replaying the moments you’d spent together, but maybe, you worried, it had all been just a casual distraction to him. People can pretend for sex, why couldn’t he do the same. The texts and playful emojis were fun, but what if he was just passing the time? Your texting had ramped up a lot especially when he was away. There were a lot of winks, innuendos, emojis but were you simply a way for him to occupy time whilst he was on the road? That maybe it didn’t matter that it was you specifically, but that it very well could just be any girl. You actually had started to feel like an idiot expecting a message tonight. You were about to just feel defeated going to bed without a text from him. You sighed, telling yourself to let it go as you flicked off the lights and crawled into bed, the silence feeling heavier than usual. You closed your eyes, settling into the pillow, just about to drift off when your phone buzzed. The screen lit up, and you glanced at it, expecting a notification—but no, it was a FaceTime call. And it was Trent. Your heart skipped, fumbling to answer as you propped yourself up, pulling your shirt down a bit just for him. 

“Hi,” you said, hoping he didn’t hear the hint of nerves in your voice. Trent’s face filled the screen, his eyes tired but a warm smile spreading across his face. 

“Sorry for the late call. Just thought…  Well, I wanted to see you. You alright, pretty girl?” He cooed. You couldn’t pick up on it but he was as nervous as you were.  His words more jumbled than normal. You bit your lip, surprised but touched by the call.

“I’m… I’m good. Just getting ready for bed. You?” You asked. He nodded, running a hand over his hair, his smile softening. 

“Yeah, about to have a quick shower and get a some sleep too. Long day. Fucking knackered” He paused, his gaze steady on you, and something in his expression made you feel seen. “But I was thinking about you.” His words made your heart race, and you couldn’t hide the smile that crept onto your face. 

“Oh yeah? Or just bored in some random hotel?” You questioned him, a slight crack at the question that had been gnawing at you.  He chuckled, shaking his head. 

“Nah, just about you alone. Trust me. Was wondering what you might've been up to without me. ” He leaned a bit closer, as though he wanted to close the distance between you through the screen. “I miss you. More than I thought I could.” Hearing that sent a warmth through you that made all the doubts melt away. 

“I miss you too, T” you admitted softly, feeling a rush of relief that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t all in your head. Trent’s grin widened, his eyes lighting up. 

“Then maybe when I get back… we don’t do the whole ‘pretend we didn’t’ yeah?” He smirked. You laughed, feeling a sense of peace wash over you as you nodded. 

“Yeah, I think I’d like that because I really do miss you.” You shook your head feeling both embarrassed by how much you did miss him and silly for the way you felt earlier about him not replying to a simple text when he was saying all this.

“Baby, quick question for you.” He said and you couldn’t stop the smile from forming on your face at the pet name returning. “You have snap right?” He said it so casually that you let out a shocked chuckle. He was talking about snapchat and while you did... you weren't sure you were even friends on it because well... it felt like dangerous territory.

“What…are you sixteen? Like what are you on about?” You laughed at him. You were on Facetime in bed right now. What in god's name did he want to know that for. 

“Nah…” He laughed mildly embarrassed by your call out. Understanding it merited your teasing. “I just meant I’d like it if I could see a little more of you when I don’t have the privacy to call. Y’know?” He explained. A part of you hated this conversation and a part of you loved it. You wanted him to see more of you but you were also a little confused. You’d had a similar conversation before and it resulted in a photo of you sent directly to him. 

“Oh… I mean I can send anything you want just over texts…”  You told him feigning a casualness you didn’t feel. You’d sent a photo to him before so you weren’t sure why he wanted to move the convo elsewhere. It was hard not to overthink it. It felt so suspicious but you weren’t entirely against sending him any more photos to him if it meant you got some in return. But the question ‘why’ was screaming in your head. 

“You understand what I’m actually asking for right, baby?” He chuckled, not at you but because he just felt silly asking this. “I just don’t want you to feel…” He began to explain further but you cut him off. In Trent's mind, he just wanted another access point. His schedule was so busy he liked the idea of being able to have a space for just the spicier things especially considering Jack but you weren't thinking that way and you didn't know that either because you just interrupted him.

“T… I know what you’re asking. I’ll send photos to you.” You smirked mischievously. You were hellbent on getting him to see you as a sexy woman not as a best friend’s little sister so in your opinion this was going to have to be happen, if you wanted to further that.  

“Alright, alright, baby. Send as you please.” He laughed pretty happy with your willingness to send him photos. You just were debating just how revealing they should be though. On Trent’s end, he wanted full nudes, he wanted to see the body he was claiming as his back at home while he was away. To be blunt he wanted to get off to them but just didn’t want you to feel overly exposed sending them through text, logged into your apple ids but there was a disconnect. You were not on the same page apparently even though you thought you were.  After you ended the call you decided to give it a go. You sat up, perching yourself onto your knees, your ass rested back on your heels so you could see your figure in the mirror across from your bed. You were just in your panties and a little tight white t-shirt, no bra. You could see the shape of your tits, your taut stomach exposed as you pulled on your lip with your free hand. And snap. You took a deep breath, looking at the photo you’d just taken. It was intimate, sultry, exactly the kind of picture that would send Trent’s heart racing—or so you hoped. But just as you were about to hit send, a flicker of doubt crept in. Was he only asking for these pictures initially on Snapchat because he didn’t want them saved, was he with or seeing other people he was worried might see them if they were texted. Hence you decided to opt to be partially clothed for this first go around. As close as you felt to him, it was hard not to wonder sometimes if you were just another distraction. He was a guy who could have anyone, and the idea that he could be keeping things casual with you was a thought you couldn’t shake. Yet you didn’t want to question him, not now, when things were finally feeling like they could be real. With a bit of resolve, you hit send anyway, your heart pounding in anticipation. Just as you set your phone down, another thought crept in. Maybe this was all about building trust. Maybe he wanted you to feel in control of whatever you chose to share. Never did the idea of Trent protecting you from Jack ever by chance picking up his phone cross your mind. The whole night replayed in your head—the warmth in his eyes on FaceTime, the way he’d reassured you, and how he’d seemed genuinely interested in closing the distance between you both. Moments later, your phone vibrated, and a message from Trent popped up. It wasn’t just a text back; it was a picture of him in the mirror, his smile a little sleepy, he’d just gotten out of the shower in his hotel room, towel low around his waist, water droplets still on his chest, the soft glint in his eyes unmistakably meant for you.

He teased You let out a small laugh, feeling the doubts ease away. Whatever this was between you both, it was beginning to feel like more than a fleeting fling.And with a quiet goodnight, he left you with a smile and a heart racing for the next time you’d see him in person.

Trent’s travels continued on. One country to the next.  But as he lay sprawled on the hotel bed, his muscles aching from a training session ahead of his match earlier in the evening, the hotel room modern and immaculate, it felt sterile, stripped of any warmth or comfort that reminded him of home. His teammates’ laughter echoed faintly down the hall, probably from someone’s room where the guys had gathered to relax and unwind. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to join them. His thoughts were somewhere else—somewhere warmer and more inviting, somewhere that smelled like your favorite perfume and where laughter felt more genuine. He had learned over time how to manage the loneliness of travel. Football had always demanded sacrifices, and he’d made peace with them. But now, with you, the loneliness felt different, more acute. Before, he never thought twice about how many nights he spent in hotel rooms, but now, every night away felt like a night stolen from you. He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake the unease that had settled in his chest, and then grabbed his phone again, the screen lighting up with notifications. None were from you, which he realized he’d been hoping for.

He rolled onto his side, staring at a picture of you he’d taken ages ago, one you probably didn't even know existed. You were laughing in it, your head thrown back, organically beautiful, eyes lit up with mischief. It was one of those candid shots that perfectly captured your spirit, and he found himself smiling, feeling an ache at the thought of not being able to hear that laugh right now. His thumb hovered over your name in his messages, and he opened your last conversation, reading over your words, feeling closer to you through the little emojis and teasing exchanges. He didn’t want to seem needy or like he was fishing for your attention, but the urge to reach out was overwhelming. He started typing a text, deleting it twice before settling on something simple; ‘Thinking about you. Hope you’re doing okay. Miss you.’ He almost sent it but stopped himself, taking a moment to let out a heavy sigh. It felt unfair to burden you with how much he missed you when he couldn’t be there. It wasn’t that he didn’t think you felt the same, but he knew how unfair this situation could be. You deserved better than waiting for stolen moments or living with the anxiety that came from constantly hiding what you were from everyone else, hiding what you might be from Jack. He put the phone down, leaning back on the pillow, and tried to shake the self-doubt creeping in. Were you getting tired of this? Of him being gone? Of him not really being yours? He couldn’t imagine a world where he didn’t want to see you, where he didn’t crave your company. It wasn’t lost on him that football had pulled him away from so much over the years, but this was the first time he genuinely worried about it taking something he desperately wanted to keep. You were putting so much at risk for him with Jack and it all started to feel more wrong than ever. 

Even during his limited downtime, his mind would drift to you: your laugh, the way you’d tease him, the gentle comfort of your presence. And now, knowing that the busiest stretch of his season was right around the corner, the thought of being even more unavailable left a bitter taste in his mouth. He wanted to make you feel special, to let you know he was thinking about you in a way that wasn’t about flashy gifts or hurried, late-night hookups. No, he wanted you to understand that he cared deeply, beyond the physical or superficial. He propped himself up on one elbow, the crisp hotel sheets rustling beneath him, and grabbed his phone once more, his mind racing with possibilities. As he opened his notes app, he began to brainstorm. He knew he couldn’t make grand, public gestures without risking exposure, and he didn’t want to just throw money at a problem that required a more thoughtful touch. He started typing ideas, his mind focusing on the small things, the meaningful things. The list in his notes app glared back at him. He glanced over the suggestions, his heart softening. Even with all his fame and money, he was nervous about something so simple as making you feel loved. How did you make him feel like a nervous schoolboy again, chasing after someone he wanted so badly to impress? He felt almost ridiculous trying to impress his best mate's little sister but you were much more than that. He chuckled softly to himself, a mix of embarrassment and adoration flooding him.

He tried to envision the letter he’d write if he went with that idea, picturing himself scribbling down every reason he liked you, every little thing that made him smile. Maybe he’d tuck it into your favorite book, so you’d stumble upon it by surprise. Or he imagined what the picnic could be like, bundling you both up in warm clothes and spreading out a feast of all your favorite comfort foods, just to hear you laugh about how out of season it was. And that thought—that image of you laughing, cheeks flushed from the cold but warm in his embrace—was enough to make him pick up his phone again.He didn’t know how he’d make it happen, but he’d figure it out. Because that’s what you did when you cared about someone: you made the effort, even when it felt impossible. Trent took a deep breath, feeling a bit more settled. He pressed send on his message before he could second-guess himself again and set his phone aside. His chest still ached, but he let himself imagine the look on your face when you finally received whatever small, meaningful gesture he’d dream up. Even if he couldn’t be there physically, he wanted you to feel his presence, to know that, no matter the distance, you were always on his mind. And as he lay there, the room still feeling cold and empty, his heart felt a little warmer, filled with a quiet resolve.

Trent was right, you did feel like his schedule was always busy. It was hard for you to understand lately. Before, as your brother's best friend it never really affected you but now… you found yourself missing him. And while you did, every time you wanted to tell him just that... you'd chicken out. You’d be lying if you said your heart hadn’t leapt when you received another text from him once you knew he was back home. It had been days since you’d last seen him, and even though you told yourself you were getting used to the rhythm of his busy life, the truth was you missed him—maybe more than you wanted to admit. The message was short, casual, but it made your palms sweat with anticipation but also your brow furrow with confusion.

Of course you agreed but the vagueness made you nervous. And in addition to those words, you didn't like to drive all that much. It just gave you a bit of anxiety but you'd do it to see him. When you pulled up in front of his house, the evening sky was tinged with hues of orange and deep purple, the last rays of sun casting shadows across the quiet street. Trent stepped out and your chest tightened at the sight of him. He looked tired but happy, his smile lighting up his face as he walked over to the passenger side of your car. He climbed in and immediately shot you a teasing look. 

“Wow,” he said, running his hand over the dashboard, “Pretty girl, pretty whip. Look at you. Who knew you had such good taste in cars.” There was a playful glint in his eye, and you couldn’t help but smile. You let out a laugh, rolling your eyes at his antics. 

“Okay, okay, I’ve said thank you a million times,” you replied, feigning exasperation. “Do you want me to say it again?” He laughed, leaning back into the seat of the Mercedes he had once gifted you for your birthday.

“Nah, I’m just giving you a hard time. It’s good seeing you behind the wheel, though. Rarely see you even drive. Was beginning to think you didn’t like it.” He smirked.

“I do! You know I just get nervous driving.” You pouted a little feeling anxious about actually driving.  

“That’s why I got you a safe car though, baby. You’re all good. Promise.” He cooed gently, leaning over and kissing your temple, feeling the familiar warmth spreading through you from his presence alone. His words reassuring. The air between you grew heavier for a split second, the implication of his words making your stomach flutter. But you quickly brushed it off, gripping the wheel a little tighter to steady yourself. You couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips as you pulled out of his driveway.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked, trying to sound casual but genuinely curious. “Why did you need me to drive?” Trent adjusted his hoodie, looking out the window as if gathering his thoughts. 

“I wanted to go somewhere,” he said, turning to face you. “Somewhere a bit more low-key. Didn’t want to attract too much attention, you know?” You raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued.

 “Somewhere, huh? You’re pretty mysterious.” You cheekily teased.  He laughed softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. 

“Nah, shush. You’ll see,” he promised, the hint of a secret in his voice. “Just trust me.” And so you drove on, the city passing by, the quiet hum of the car adding to the suspense. Trent didn’t give anything away, and that made you all the more eager to find out what he had in store. But deep down, just being near him, feeling the warmth of his presence after days apart, felt like more than enough. Trent had typed the address into your car’s navigation system, and as the map adjusted, you tried to steal a peek, your curiosity piqued. He shot you a mischievous grin, blocking your view with his hand. “Aye! No peeking,” he said, his tone playful. You rolled your eyes, fixing them back on the road, but a smile pulled at your lips despite the frustration you felt, knowing he always enjoyed these little games. When you finally pulled up to the park, you recognized it instantly: the worn-out playground, the rustling trees that framed the walking path, and the faint creak of the swings swaying in the wind. It was a place that had remained unchanged since your childhood, close to where you’d both grown up but far enough away from where you now lived that it felt like a retreat. You turned off the car and glanced over at Trent, your eyebrows raised.

“What are we doing here?” you asked, laughter bubbling in your voice. He opened the door, climbed out, and then made his way around to your side, pulling his hoodie up over his head in that way he always did when he wanted to go unnoticed. The sight was endearing but also a reminder of the reality you shared: the life he led, so scrutinized and public, and the need to keep parts of it hidden, you hidden. He pulled your door open and extended his hand to you.

“C’mon,” he urged gently. “Just wanted to spend some time with you.” You took his hand, stepping out of the car and feeling the cool, crisp autumn air kiss your skin. "Just you and me." The sky was a watercolor mix of oranges and purples, the sun dipping below the horizon and painting everything in a soft, fading glow. You slipped your hand out of his to wrap your arms around yourself for warmth, but Trent’s hand found your lower back, guiding you gently down the familiar path. As you walked, you both fell into an easy conversation about anything and everything: memories from your childhood, funny stories about people you both knew, and even complaints about the weather turning colder. But underneath it all, there was a tension you couldn’t shake. “Been missing you... I actually was trying to remember the first time I like properly caught some feelings for ya. pretty sure it was here,” he said, his voice quiet. His admission lingered in the air, heavy and sincere.

"I don't believe that." You smiled, not sure Trent even looked your way until your tits were out on a holiday. You were trying to stay guarded but he was making it hard. You felt your heart skip at his words, but you couldn’t bring yourself to fully relax into the moment.

"You should. Made me just miss being... us." He sheepishly said the word uniting you two as a pair. You knew how much you missed him too, but there was something else—a weight that was harder to put into words.

“Hmm,” you murmured noncommittally, your eyes trained on the path ahead. Trent stopped walking, his fingers brushing against your elbow to turn you toward him. You glanced up, your gaze meeting his, and his expression was a mix of worry and confusion.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, reading the unease in your eyes. He was searching for an answer, something to make sense of the way you were holding back. You let out a sigh, your breath visible in the cold air. 

“It’s not that something’s wrong,” you started, your voice trailing off. “I just… sometimes I feel like…” You struggled to find the words. How could you express the hurt of feeling like a secret, like this hidden part of his life he only got to enjoy behind closed doors? Trent’s jaw tensed slightly, his hands dropping to his sides as he watched you, his own heart sinking. He seemed to understand, even if it was painful to hear. 

“I know it’s not fair,” he admitted, running a hand over his hair beneath the hoodie. “But you make me feel grounded, Y/N. You make me feel like… me. And I just wanted some time. to feel like Trent, not all the shit that goes on during the week.” You swallowed the lump forming in your throat, nodding because you did understand. It just didn’t make the ache any less.

“I get it,” you whispered. And you did, you really did, but the understanding didn’t erase the feeling of being kept in the shadows. It wasn’t just friends and family who couldn't know… the world couldn’t know. In a way, you almost felt used or that you weren’t good enough to be shown. Nevertheless, you resumed walking, though your steps felt heavier now. Trent must have sensed your struggle because, after a few more moments, he bent down and picked a small daisy growing stubbornly among the fallen leaves. He held it out to you with a sheepish grin.

“Here,” he said, pressing it into your hand. "I always thought about nicking one of these and giving it to you but the lad's would've ripped into me back then." You couldn’t help but laugh, the gesture so innocent and sweet that it melted some of the tension in your chest. He leaned in and kissed your temple, the warmth of his lips comforting in the cold evening. You looked down at the daisy, a bittersweet smile playing on your lips. 

“They still would." You sympathetically smiled. "You know,” you began, shaking your head at the memories flooding back, “if you did that when we were kids, I would’ve screamed.” Trent’s eyes softened, a playful glint returning. 

“And now…?” he asked, wanting to hear how things had changed.

“Well…” You hesitated, your smile dimming. “It’s just a bit different now.” Your voice was quieter, the reality sinking back in. “I still like getting flowers from you.” You tried to backtrack but you couldn’t. The daisy felt like a piece of something beautiful, but the hoodie he still wore reminded you of the double life you both lived. The happiness was always tinged with the sadness of what you couldn’t have. Trent’s expression grew somber, and he stepped closer, his hands coming up to cup your face.

 “I know it’s not enough,” he whispered, his thumbs brushing your cheeks. “But I’m trying, Y/N. I really am.” You closed your eyes, his warmth seeping into your skin. 

“I know,” you whispered back. “And that’s what makes it so hard.” You opened your eyes, looking into his, and for a moment, there was nothing but understanding between you. No words, no defenses—just the complicated, beautiful mess of feelings you shared. He pulled you into a hug, and you rested your head on his chest, the daisy still clutched in your hand. The sun had nearly set, and the park was empty now, just the two of you standing in a place full of memories, trying to find a way to make sense of the present. He kissed your forehead and instead of bringing comfort, it stung. You went home that night and pressed the daisy in a favorite book of yours to preserve it. It was a book of poems. You found a worn page that you turned to often, one that your mum loved. You hoped in some way maybe she could help you decide what that daisy meant if you kept it there between you and her.  And as you shut the book to cement it. You watched a teardrop fall onto the hard cover. You and Trent, your past and your present bound closed.

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Next part - Chapter 6 - Your Brother xx