#(and please take care of yourself and make steps towards not smoking if you do)

[bangaveragewhitewine]

crazy-mad for you

Eddie Munson x Reader (bouncer x bartender, frenemies to lovers)  - Happy Hours series

Chicago, 1991. When you’re not pouring beers and shaking cocktails behind the bar of Jackie’s, you’re fighting flirting balancing banter and bite with the metalhead bouncer on your break.

A busy Friday night changes how you see Eddie Munson. Maybe you were wrong about the bouncer with his silver tongue and Bambi brown eyes...

This is 18+. If you’re not 18 please hit the back button and read something else.

Word count: 16.7 K

Contents/Warnings: Frenemies to lovers. Misogynistic comments; objectification, men being men. Some violence; Eddie gets in a fight. This is an 18+ fic. Smoking, alcohol consumption & drug use. Oral (reader receiving). P in V sex. Excessive use of pet names. Eddie & Reader are mid to late twenties. Reader is written as AFAB and uses female pronouns.

Author’s Note: One minute you’re daydreaming about cherry margaritas and Eddie Munson, and the next you’re writing 36 pages of how you fall in love with him... Just girly things? This is my first attempt at writing Eddie ❤️

I do hope you enjoy it, I had fun writing it! Thank you @specialagentmonkey for beta reading / being my hype woman.

Once again, this is an 18+ fic. Please do not repost my work to other sites.

Dividers by me ✌️

The cold fizz of vodka soda lime prickles your throat with a pleasant burn. 

It’s August and it’s warm, too warm to be crammed in this little dive bar with too many bodies and not enough of them wearing antiperspirant. Way too warm to be working, slinging cheap drinks to the thirsty Friday night crowd crushed into Jackie’s. They can be stingy with their ‘pleases’ and ‘thank yous’ but the tips are good at least (thanks to the pulled-low hem of your tank top showing just enough and the hug of denim on your hips). 

Jackie’s was a popular little dive you had visited during your first week in Chicago; a drink with your new roommate and some friends ended with you charming the owner Frank and promising to return for a trial shift the following evening. That was almost a year ago and you had settled in well, stepping up to be a supervisor after six months. 

Now, bone tired and wishing just a little bit that you worked a nine to five, you long for a cool shower and something fried and crispy and maybe cheesy (not particularly in that order). You’re here until close, two a.m last call followed by another hour of cleaning. Then you’re home free. Until tomorrow night anyway.

You tip back the last of your drink and crunch the ice between your teeth. Those last few minutes of your break are dwindling and soon you will haul yourself back, to fill beers and shake-up cocktails, all tits and teeth and aching feet. The music from the bar is loud as you perch on your stool at the back door, but you hear him over it hum-singing something way more Billboard Hot 100 than his usual taste. It makes your lips curve into a smirk, your head leaning back against the cool brick wall. 

“Don't you know, hmmhnn change. Things'll go your way. Hmmm hmm Hold On for -”

“Hey, hotshot.”

The small startle that shakes Eddie’s black-clothed body makes you laugh more than it should, particularly when he attempts to brush it off and play cool. 

“Fuckin’ Christ, I should’ve known you’d be here.” His voice is a groan, head tipped back with hammed-up exasperation. 

“Careful, Ed. They’ll revoke your metalhead licence if they hear you’re singing Wilson Phillips these days.” Your voice is a conspiratorial stage whisper as you cross your legs, stacking one over the other. His usual leather jacket has been swapped out for the hot summer nights, black denim over his usual tight black t-shirt and Dickies. 

He rolls and flicks his lighter to set the cigarette between his lips aflame as he meanders toward you. You can hear the crackle of burning tobacco as he takes a long drag, eyes never leaving you. “Not shaking your tits for tips, sugar?”

“Aw, been thinking about me while you’re asking cute girls what their star sign is?” you snark, missing the shadow of something that passes over Eddie’s face as your eyes roll. 

You switch your focus to the night sky above as Eddie comes to loom by you. The smoke swirls around him as he offers the cigarette out to you. Before taking it, you reach back and leave your empty glass on the sill behind you and swap a chilled bottle of Budweiser for the smoking cig. 

It’s not an olive branch, just part of your usual ritual; trading acidic barbs, mean words, shared smokes and free drinks whenever you’re scheduled on the same shifts (which is most nights). 

Eddie uses his keys to uncap the bottle and takes a long pull, head tipped back to show off his pale throat. A sliver of silver glints around his neck. The beer is almost half gone when he rips a truly boyish burp. Gross. 

You take a drag, sighing the smoke into the warm air. 

“What’s the sigh about, princess? Did someone not say please when they asked for their Cosmo? Your little apron tied too tight?” Eddie plucks at the wrap of black fabric around your waist. The way it hugs the curve and flair of your hips is certainly not lost on him.

You blow your second drag of smoke directly at him for that one. “Well if you could make sure we’re not packing the place out and breaching health and safety, that would be fuckin’ fantastic.” 

“Simmer down, princess. I’ve got it handled. You just pour your little drinks and wink at the boys and we’ll get through tonight just fine, ‘kay? Leave the crowd control to me.” Eddie tilts his head, dripping condescension like the total asshole he is. He’s way closer than you even realised and you can smell the spicy Fahrenheit behind the smoke. There’s heavy silence as you both glare at each other in the back alley.

The heat and hectic night make your banter especially snarky but Eddie’s the first to break, nudging you with a little smile. You barely catch his gaze dropping to your lips as you take another drag from his cigarette.

“No one giving you any trouble tonight?” he asks. 

“No more than usual. Just absolutely slammed in there. Just got done changing kegs again - they’re drinking us dry and it’s only Friday.” You roll your neck, sighing again when it cracks. 

“Tips good?” He seems almost genuine until his mean little smirk returns,  “Your tits are probably doing the real heavy liftin’ but..” 

“Listen dickh-”

Just as you’re about to cuss him out, there’s a burst of music and crowd noise as one of the other bartenders comes to find you. Michelle looks between you and Eddie before rolling her eyes. “C’mon, you’re really pushin’ that ten-minute break tonight. Sorry to break up whatever this was,” she flaps her hand between you and Eddie (who’s grinning like a wolf as he finishes his beer), “but we have a bachelorette party in line and it’s already crazy in there.” 

“Bachelorettes?” Eddie pushes off the wall and steals the smoke back from your fingers, “Sounds like I should probably get back to work. Ladies.” He winks before sauntering off, leaving you almost simmering with something like anger until Michelle scoffs and drags you back inside. 

“The sooner you two just bang and get it out of your system, the better,” Michelle tuts. 

“Ew. Pass.” You scoff and pause at the dingy mirror to fix your hair and pat the sweat away with a rip of trusty blue roll, scooping your breasts up in their cups and adjusting your top before scurrying after Michelle again. If you’re going to be busy, you may as well make it worthwhile and rake in the tips. 

The bar is louder than loud but you’re energised from your vodka soda and little sparring session with Eddie and easily fall back into step with the other bar staff, working together like a well-oiled machine - despite the annoying rusty hinge manning the door.  

Eddie rejoined the staff with his buddy Jeff in tow after they had spent some time on tour with their band. You had barely contained your eye rolls when the loud metalhead had waltzed into one of Frank’s staff meetings (conducted over pizza and pitchers of beers) unannounced and kicked his feet up on a table like he owned the place. Everyone was happy to see him (adding a round of shots to toast his glorious return) but you stayed wary of the flirty metalhead with a silver tongue and big brown Bambi eyes. Yeah, you felt warm all over when he looked you up and down and smiled like a wolf but you knew his type - total flirt, make a girl feel special and then move on to the next one. You didn’t move your entire life to a whole new state to get fucked over again, so you and Eddie settled into trading catty comments while you watch out for each other, allowing the occasional flirtation for balance. Getting under each other’s skin in whatever way seemed most annoying and fun? It worked, made the slow nights bearable, the busy ones more fun. Whatever it was. 

An hour later the small of your back is nearly soaked with perspiration. The bachelorettes are in full flight, meaning you have been pouring shots and mixing cocktails non-stop. They’re sweet at least, good with their excited ‘thank you!’s for all the fruity drinks you made them - cherry margaritas, blue lagoons and strawberry daiquiris going down an absolute treat. 

You’re shaking another batch of lemon drop shots for a girl's night group when you become hyper-aware of two yuppie finance bros with their gaze firmly fixed on your chest, trading little smirks and comments with each other behind their glasses. You’re overcome with an overwhelming sense of ick. 

It’s nothing new, but it doesn’t make it any easier to ignore sometimes - even when you’re up-the-walls busy and the kegs need to be changed. You refocus and fix your gaze on the glowing EXIT sign, thinking about how many more cocktails you will make before close. Your eye is caught instead by Eddie standing by the door, already looking at you while he’s supposed to be making sure none of the patrons are being too dickish. 

When your eyes meet he tilts his chin in a nod. Eddie smirks as he shimmies his chest at you, to which you mouth a very easily recognisable ‘FUCK YOU’ with a cheeky wink for good measure. 

He shakes his head and you pour the line of shots, earning yourself a nice big tip and a rake of compliments from the drunk girls who make you promise to do a shot with them later. Not a promise you can definitely keep, but their enthusiasm is a balm for your soul.

As they shuffle away to give each other pep talks in the bathroom (gosh, you love them), one of the men who had been eyeing you up steps into their place. You don’t miss the way he drags his eyes over their bodies before his snake-like stare is fixed on you. You have already made plenty on tips so you dial back the smile, giving him a barely polite brow raise in place of a ‘What’ll it be?’

“Two whiskeys, top shelf. Whatever’s expensive in this dump,” he says, speaking to your chest rather than your face. You can smell the sour of his breath across the counter. 

You square your jaw and suppress an eye roll that would surely render you sightless for the rest of your days. “If you don’t like it, the doors over there. Ice?”

He grunts affirmative and you pour the drinks from the barely touched bottle, slamming the glasses down just hard enough to startle him before you give him his total.

“There’s an extra fifty in it if you give me a smile,” he says, leaning his elbow on the bar with the crisp note in hand. “You been given’ out a lot more for a lot less all night. One little smile for me?” The man nods to your cleavage, and you refuse to feel self-conscious. 

You can’t summon the effort to even fuck with him, come up with a comeback that his Neanderthal brain couldn’t possibly comprehend. You give him his total again along with your best deadpan glare. “You’re holding up the line. Pay up or am I going to need to cut you off, buddy?”

His face turns sour, acidic anger bubbling up. “You’re a hard little bitch, aren’t ya?”

You smirk at that, plucking the fifty from between his thin fingers to cash up before dropping his change back on the counter. “I am, thank you so much for noticing.” Your voice is nearly saccharine, and you play up the airhead facade for a moment before turning to the customer next to him. “Next please!”

His curses blend into the background as Michelle hip-checks you with a grin and wink, which you return while beginning to pour beers for your next order. If you let every slimeball get to you, you would have given up a long time ago. 

On such a busy night, it was easy to be distracted and forget all about him, but the sharp brown eyes standing by the door saw everything - and he wasn’t so forgiving. 

Almost another hour passes; another keg change, more cocktails to shake, another few visits from your favourite group of girls (who you take a shot of tequila with when they bat their lashes at you - you’re a sucker when it comes to girls who give you compliments and smell like vanilla).  

The crowd thins a bit and you take a turn collecting empties, happy to have an excuse to get out from behind the bar and stretch your legs again, even if it is to balance too many glasses on a too-small tray. The ever-changing obstacle course of the floor on a Friday night is one you’re well practised at, dodging stray elbows and dipping in between patrons to take their spent glasses from the sticky tables, maybe chat a little if it’s not too loud or busy. 

Paradise City is pouring through the speakers as your arms begin to protest the load they are carrying. You know your limit and pick up two more stacked pint glasses, catching Eddie’s eye as he bids goodnight to some regulars. His boot is already halfway out the door after them when you see his face change into something you can’t fully comprehend. Not because you can’t read him - you absolutely can - but your body is careening forward and down toward the floor before you can catch yourself. Your foot had caught on something that hadn’t been there before you met Eddie’s stare, sending you flying forward. 

There’s a thud, crash, smash as you hit the deck alongside every single glass you had expertly balanced. The sound feels huge, ringing in your ears and it’s like the air is sucked out of the room, your body is winded by the unexpected impact. The music cuts and everything hurts - part ego, part ‘that’ll bruise tomorrow’ pain. 

You wish for the sticky floor to just swallow you up as patrons form a little circle around you, crunching broken glass under their feet. A familiar pair of boots stops right by your head. Eddie. He crouches to kneel by you with one hand heavy on your shoulder and floods your already overwhelmed senses with his smoke and leather and spice. 

He says your name, edged with panic until you open your squeezed-shut eyes. You manage to push yourself up with a small wince, hauling yourself with his help to sit on a quickly-vacated low stool. His hands feel huge as they cup your face, you hadn’t noticed how long his lashes were (unfair) or the freckles dusted across his nose. 

“M’okay, Ed. Jus’ need a minute,” your murmur, head ducked to hide your hot cheeks and embarrassment. He stands and puts his arm around you, without thinking you rest your head against his hip but miss his slight intake of breath as your coworkers calm the crowd and start sweeping and gathering the glass, and thankfully turn the music back on. 

Eddie bends a little to speak to you, low and quiet, “Just sit there a sec, okay? ‘Chelle is going to bring you to the staff room.”  

You nod and take a few breaths before taking his hand to stand and be passed safely into Michelle’s care.

“I’ll be back to you in a sec. Don’t go gettin’ in any more trouble, ‘kay?” Eddie’s softness has an edge now, his eyes zeroing in on the man who had given you shit at the bar earlier. The one Eddie had been glaring at ever since; he had seen him stick his foot out to trip you. 

You’re just about to push through to the back hallway when you hear raised voices. Eddie’s voice is louder than the others. You turn and see him squaring up to the slimeball who asked you for a smile earlier, not looking as clever or slick now that Eddie’s up in his face.

“Oh, what the fuck,” Michelle murmurs, pausing behind you to watch. 

“I saw you fuckin’ trip her man. Get the fuck out.” Eddie is incensed. “Been givin’ her shit all night.”

Trip her? Oh. He means you.

“I wouldn’t touch’er. That bitch? Fuck off man, get out of my face.”

There’s a scuffle, another broken glass. More shouting before it really kicks off, fists swinging. Through the horrified crowd, you see knuckles connecting with Eddie’s pretty face. It hurts when you yell out his name, adding to the noise as Jeff rushes in to get the men under control. 

Eddie lands his own punch, rings slamming into the man's jaw, raising a collective ‘ooof’ from the gathered crowd. Despite the blood on his face and hands, Eddie manages to haul him out into the street with Jeff, some beefy regular marching the second man out by the scruff of his neck. 

“What the fuck…” you breathe, realising that you were holding on to Michelle’s arm way too tight. You apologise and she steers you back to the staff room in a daze of pain and confusion (more from the fight than your fall). The room is little more than a box with a wall of beat-up lockers, a sink and counter, a table with cracked Formica and creaky chairs and a squishy old two-seater. It’s cramped but it can be a haven on a busy night. 

As you ease yourself into the corner of the squishy sofa, Michelle pours you a big measure of whiskey for the shock. She kneels in front of you, looking you over for any cuts or scrapes from the glass, and checks your pupils for good measure. You’re just shaken up and feeling the impact of the fall. 

“You dizzy or anything?” she asks, squeezing your knee. “You’re gonna have a big fuckin’ bruise, babe. Remember when I spilled that pitcher, slipped and fell on my ass back before Christmas? Black and blue well into New Year.” She squeezes your knee and encourages you to take a sip of your drink. 

The whiskey burns but you barely feel it. 

“Why did Eddie hit that guy? Did.. did he trip me? The floor was clear, I just… I didn’t see... My foot caught something but..” Your voice shakes from the adrenaline, the shock of the last few minutes. 

She shrugs with a little smile. “I didn’t see either. You’ll need to ask Ed yourself.” A little frown etches between her brows. “He doesn’t… he doesn’t get pissed like that for no reason. He’s a good guy, babe. He looks out for everyone, staff and the drunks. He wouldn’t do that without a good reason. I know you get up each other’s ass but..-” 

As you take another sip, the door swings open. 

Eddie. Eddie with a bloody nose, lip swollen. Eddie with his jacket off, draped over his arm as he flexes his bloody knuckles around a bottle of Jack Daniels, a pint glass of ice in the other hand.

“Hey, you okay?”

His brown eyes are wide, but he’s trying to play cool despite the adrenaline coursing through him too. Eddie feels like his entire body is buzzing, not in a good way like when he plays a gig or when he gets you riled up at him, when you roll your eyes and give him that smirk - bad like when he used to get in fights in school, when a teacher would assume he was the troublemaker and send him to detention or the principal’s office. 

You look at Eddie and he looks right back at you. You can’t look away from each other. It’s like your fall and his punches caused something to shift; you can’t name it but it weighs on you, both of you. 

Michelle squeezes your hand. “I’ll leave you two to patch yourselves up. Be good.” A kiss is dropped to your head and she squeezes Eddie’s arm as she passes him by. 

It’s just you now. You and Eddie, both hurting. 

“Ed…”

He takes a long pull from the bottle of Jack and drops into the seat next to you. 

“Eddie, what the hell was that?” Your voice is quiet and your eyes shine when you look at him. He is a ball of frenetic energy, knee bouncing. You take in the black ink on his arms, see the veins and muscles twitch beneath. His nose and mouth are stained bloody, knuckles and rings too. 

He looks over you, sees how you’re holding yourself carefully after your fall. “He tripped you.” Eddie’s voice is quiet, not something you hear often. He’s loud and he’s brash, hear-him-before-you-see-him kinda guy. 

“Oh.”

“Oh? He’d been giving you shit all night, you could’ve called me. Or Jeff.” He sips the whiskey again and tops up your glass without another word.   

“Yeah, he was a creep. Nothing new there. If I come crying to you and Jeff every time someone gets fresh with me I’d never be behind the bar. People are assholes. I can handle myself, Ed.” 

“And how’d that go for you tonight? You could’ve been really fuckin’ hurt.” His eyes blaze, nostrils flare. 

Your jaw drops, “You’re blaming me?” 

“No. No, fuck,” he growls in frustration. “I know you can handle yourself. That’s why you’re fuckin’ great at your job. If I had just taken him out when he gave you shit at the bar then maybe -” 

“Jesus Christ, Eddie I don’t need you to save me or protect me! Shit happens! This was shit. It happened. You didn’t need to do that.”

“I know. But I wanted to... I want to..”

The air between you is charged and heavy. 

I want to. What does that mean? 

Eddie covers himself quickly. 

“It’s my job. I want to make sure you, everyone here, can do their job without some fuckin’ guy with halitosis making it worse for you, waving his cash in your face like that.” Eddie nudges you gently, “I just want to do somethin’ right. I like working with you, even when you’re a pain in my ass.” 

You scrunch your nose up, “Sap.” It’s easy to both fit back into your normal routine, ignoring the lingering something more that had just become quite clear to both of you. 

“I might like working with you too. Don’t let it get to your head, I’m not sure your ego needs to get any bigger, Munson.”

He smiles, but the throb of his nose makes him wince and swear.

Eddie has made no attempt to put that glass of ice to good use so you ease yourself up to grab two clean bar towels, tipping the ice into one before wrapping it up. You pass it back to him before filling the empty glass with water.

“Thanks, princess.” Eddie flexes his fingers as the ice soothes the burning with cool unpleasantness. 

You ease yourself back into your seat, facing Eddie now. “C’mere. Let me clean you up.” 

He pauses, looking at you from the side of his big brown eyes before turning to face you. “It’s not broken. Just a little blood. You should see the other guy..” Eddie grins when you roll your eyes. 

“My hero,” you deadpan, though you do kind of mean it. 

With the damp corner of the rag, you gently begin to wipe the blood from Eddie’s face, sitting closer than you have ever really been to him. It’s silent between you, the quietest you have ever seen him. He’s too busy watching you, your focused face and how seriously you are taking your task. 

“Very gentle,” he murmurs. 

“Mm, don’t try me, Munson.” You’re quiet again, concentrating on wiping the blood and not looking into his eyes. “Not your first bloody nose after a fight then?”

“M’nope. High school… Mosh pits. Few angry drunks. The usual.” He doesn’t mention his father’s temper, his first bloody nose from a beer-soaked backhand. The whiskey tastes sour in his mouth at the memory.

You lean back a bit, assessing your work before wetting another edge of the towel. Eddie crosses his eyes, looking down his nose. “Am I pretty again?” He gives an extra cheesy grin for emphasis, making you laugh. It makes his heart soar; that sound, how you duck your head. But he sees your pained wince, bringing him right back to earth. 

“Shit, sorry.” “It’s fine. I’ll live.”

You bring your hand back to his face and wipe the last of the blood-stained around his mouth, taking one last slow swipe over his too-plump-to-be-decent lower lip. That was more for you than for him, though the spark of fire in his eyes said otherwise; it was the same spark lit low in your belly since you had first laid eyes on him and started your incessant teasing of each other. 

“All done.” Your voice is just above a whisper, neither of you making any move backwards. 

“Thank you, nurse.” You can feel the warmth of his breath on your face. “Hey, can you... wear one of those little white dresses next time?” 

He’s grinning again when you shove at his shoulder to put some space between you, the skin beneath almost burning hot under your hand even through the black cotton of his t-shirt.

“No next time. You hear me? Your groupies will come for me if that pretty face gets all bashed up.” There’s that smirk of yours that sets the embers burning low in his stomach alight. 

He rolls his eyes at you, stealing your move. “You heading home?” he asked, watching you again as you drained the last of the whiskey in your glass. 

“Mm, soon. I’ll check if I can help close and clean, then I’ll go.” You lean your head against the back of the battered sofa and close your eyes briefly. You think you might just sleep here until your stomach growls like something from the seventh circle of hell.

Eddie’s big brown eyes shine with mirth, astounded at the inhuman noise that just came from your curled-up body. 

“Shut up. I’ll make cereal or something when I get home.”

“Nuh-uh. You like fries?”

“Who doesn’t like fries?” you peek one eye open to look at him.

“Let’s get some and I’ll make sure you get home safe.” Eddie checks his knuckles and swipes some of the blood from his rings, acting far more nonchalant than he felt. 

“You don’t need to.” Fries and a shake did sound amazing. Walking home while I felt like a human embodiment bruise? Not so much. 

“I know. But I’m going anyway, and you need to eat. So let me.” 

He pokes your arm as he speaks; you think fleetingly that you might let Eddie Munson do anything if he asked you nicely, spoke to you with that hushed husky voice. You think that you definitely must have hit your head when you start thinking about his eyes…

But he can’t know that, so you settle for an eye roll. “Ugh, fine.” 

With far too much energy, Eddie pushes himself up and empties the ice into the sink along with the red-tinged water. He potters around the little staff room, chucking rags into the bag for the laundry and rinsing glasses. You watch him, curious and a little confused until you realise you are staring and don’t want to be caught. 

You sit up and unlock your tiny locker, taking off and balling up your apron to throw in your bag, spraying deodorant under your arms before shutting and locking it again. Eddie’s got his jacket back on and you carry your own too-big denim jacket over your arm. You give him a nod, ready to go, and head out to the bar to check with Michelle that it’s okay for you to call it a night 

The crowd had thinned to a few stragglers who were almost ready to call it a night. Jeff has the door under control and the bar staff are already cleaning tables and glasses. You promise Michelle you will call her tomorrow, that you will stay in bed if you hurt too much, and accept her gentle hug after she passes you your tips for the night. 

“Get home safe. No more getting into trouble,” she says, eyeing you and Eddie together with interest (and some smugness). 

“No promises. See ya tomorrow ‘Chelle,” Eddie says with a wink before you both head out toward the black ‘86 Dodge Daytona parked a little down the street. It’s still humid and warm outside and you walk in silence until you see him unlock the nice car, opening the door for you. Your stomach flip-flops when he gives you a slight bow. He’s only being nice because you made an ass of yourself at work, you tell yourself. 

“Jesus, being a rockstar really pays off,” you tease and throw your bag into the passenger footwell before easing yourself in. “Or did you steal this?” 

You knew he had worked in a garage before moving to the city, and you force the thought of Eddie in a grease-marked tank top out of your head.

“Nah, my days of grand theft auto are long behind me.” Eddie winks and closes the door before rounding the shiny bonnet to sit in the driver’s seat. His keys jangle before he turns the ignition. 

The radio blares Iron Maiden’s The Number of the Beast so loud that you just about hear Eddie’s swearing over it until he gets the volume down. “Oops.”

“Dude, mind your fuckin’ ears. You’ll be deaf by thirty.” Your own ears are ringing after the onslaught of noise. 

“Huh?” He holds his hand up to his ear and smirks stupidly before revving the engine. 

You sink back into the low seat and shake your head; your own smile reflects at you in the window as he peels away from the curb. “You better not murder me, Munson. I’ll haunt the fuck out of you if you do.” 

“Once again babe, kidnap and human sacrifice are also long behind me.” 

He drives a little fast, but you don’t hate how you feel sitting in the passenger side of his car. He has a faded Black Ice Little Tree hanging from the rearview mirror alongside a skull keychain that cackles and glows red when you push a button on the back. The cramped back seat camouflages balled-up band shirts, a pair of beat-up Chucks, amp leads and guitar strings - a random accumulation that gives you a glimpse of who Eddie is outside of work. It’s easy for your mind to wander; Eddie, a back seat, what kind of girls he usually brings for a ride in his baby. Instead, you wonder about all you don’t know about the guy you spend a good part of your week with, the man currently driving you to get diner food at 2 a.m. after he punched a guy who was mean to you.

“Feelin’ okay?” he checks, flexing his knuckles on the steering wheel as he takes a left.

“Yeah.” You roll your head to look over at him. “Tell me something.”

Eddie glances across at you, brow raised under his bangs. “What?”

“Something, anything. A secret, a story. You always have something to say, so tell me something.” 

“Mmm. You gonna laugh at me?”

“Probably.”

“Shit okay. Um... Okay. I almost got kicked out of my high school graduation. My friends were disruptively loud, like obnoxious motherfuckers - love them to death. And I flipped the Principal off instead of shaking his sweaty little hand.”

It does make you laugh, just a little - more of a really amused smile. “That’s fuckin’ cool, Munson. Were they your little Dungeons and Dorks friends?”

“Rude.” He pauses. “Dragons. Dungeons and Dragons.”

“Nerd. You’re from where, like Ballsack, Indiana?”

“Close. Hawkins - just north of Ballsack actually.”

“Can’t say I know it. Home of the Metalheads or..?”

“No. Definitely not. S’why I left.”

Your lower lip juts out just a little at the loaded confession.

“Your turn. One secret, please. Dirtier the better.”

“Perv.”

“Witch.”

You smirk, leaning your head back. “Been called worse tonight.” 

You don’t see Eddie’s knuckles twitch while you think of a secret. Hearing that guy call you a bitch reminded him of all the times he had heard his poor mother called the same by the deadbeat he called Dad. 

“Okay, you’re going to piss your pants at me. I used to work at this kinda fancy cocktail place before I moved here,” you say. “Totally lied about my experience before starting. Think… wannabe jazz lounge for yuppies. The menu was like this leather folder thing. Anyway, my first week and this like.. rich lookin’ guy comes in and asks for a Roman Coke.”

You see Eddie glance at you as he indicates and swerves the car smoothly to park opposite a little diner not far from where you live. 

“I’m a few days in, super eager to get it all right. I’m like, ‘Yes, of course, coming right up’ and can I remember what the hell is in a Roman Coke? Fuck no. It’s not on the menu so I think ‘Hey this guy must know better than dumb little me’. I’m flipping through the recipe cards, everyone else is busy and kinda mean anyway so I stare at the liquors for like two minutes before I go back and ask him ‘What’s in that again?’.” 

Eddie’s biting his lip. He knows where this is going. He sees how you light up when you tell your story, begs the butterflies to calm their swooping and swirling behind his ribs as you deliver the punchline. 

“Rum. And Coke.”

His head falls forward, rests on the top of the steering wheel. His shoulders shake with silent laughter.

“Eddie. He was the owner.” 

He cackles. That throaty yell of a laugh you hear ringing through the bar or from the staff room when he’s goofing around instead of working. 

“Oh no..” He’s wiping tears from his eyes as you cringe in his passenger seat. “Oh princess, that’s fuckin’ terrible.” 

You sit together in his parked car until you settle, faces hurting from smiling until your stomach growls again.

“Jesus, the woman needs fries - stat.”

“And a Coke?”

“And a Coke.” 

Eddie is out of the car and opening your door before you even have your seatbelt off. He offers you his hand to help you out of the car, careful of your sore body after the fall. 

“Feeling okay?” he asks, still holding your hand. 

“A bit achy. I’ll have a hot shower and take something before bed.” You lift his hand to check his knuckles. “Sore?” 

“I’ve had worse.”

He squeezes your hand gently before you let go and cross the street to the hole-in-the-wall place glowing with neon Coca-Cola signs. 

“You get in a lot of fights then?” you ask as he holds the door. 

“Not anymore.” Eddie shrugs and leads you to a little table, nodding politely to the waitress filling coffees at the counter. She says hi to him by name and you think about Eddie coming in here alone, or not, after his shifts.

The backs of your thighs catch on the red vinyl and you know you will need to peel yourself up later.

Eddie sits opposite you, looking immediately at home as he relaxes back in the booth. In the bright diner lights you can see where his lip is still swollen and sore, the lingering specs of blood in his nostril despite your careful clean-up.

The waitress, an older woman with thinly drawn brows, comes over and pinches Eddie’s cheek with motherly affection. “Hi hon, you two know what you’re havin’?”

Eddie scrunches his nose like a bunny. “Hi, Marie. Usual for me, and a big basket of fries and a Coke?” He looks at you for confirmation, and you nod. “Please and thank you.”

She eyes you up with a little smile as she writes the order. “I was wonderin’ when Eddie was going to bring a nice girl for me to meet. Make yourself at home, sweetheart.”

By the time you both open your mouths to set Marie straight, she’s already gone. Eddie’s cheeks tinge pink, but he shrugs it off. “Hate to have to break her heart and tell her you’re not a nice girl.”

You gasp in mock offence and put your hand to your heart. “I am so nice.” You can’t even keep a straight face as you say it. “Slandering my good name, Munson. I thought you were all about protecting my honour.”

Your close-to-the-bone teasing keeps the rosy tint on his cheeks. 

“I never told you, your face when you fell? Fuckin’ hilarious. Should’ve taken a picture to put behind the bar.”

The jab puts you even again, not that either of you keeps score but it’s all about balance. Can’t be too nice, don’t want to be too mean. 

You rest your head against the back of the booth and close your eyes for a moment, feeling the exhaustion from a busy and unpredictable night wash over you. 

Eddie takes the opportunity to just look at you for a moment; even under the too-bright lights of the diner, he thinks you might just be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

“Tell me something else,” you say before opening your eyes. When you do, you catch a fleeting dreamy look on Eddie’s face and lean forward to rest your chin on your hand as Marie drops over your drinks and food; fries for you, a burger with oozing American cheese and crisp bacon for Eddie. 

“So nosy,” he teases, shoving a straw into his fizzing Coca-Cola. 

You shrug, feeling a burn in your stomach; maybe you were overstepping. “You don’t have to. You can sit and stare at me if you prefer,” You take a long sip through your own gently placed straw and raise your brows at him. 

He can’t and won’t argue with that one and stirs the ice as he thinks, takes a sip. 

“One of the first gigs I played out of our hometown, we had like thirty people instead of the usual five drunks in the Hideout. I tried to crowd surf, thinkin’ I was hot shit. Broke my wrist.” 

Your eyes blow wide as you eat the best fry of your life - it’s perfectly crisp and fluffy, salted just right - but the punchline of Eddie’s latest confession had you wanting to know more.

“You want half?” Eddie asks, nodding to his burger. 

“No, I'm good, thanks. Hold on, reverse to the breaking your wrist after thinking you were Iggy fucking Pop.” 

He’s already a bite in but holds his wrist up before he flips you off. “See? Good as new,” he says, pausing his chew. 

The fries are too good to waste so you push down the urge to throw one at him. 

“I was eighteen. Stupid kid. S’the reason I didn’t graduate that year.” He sips his Coke again and watches your reaction from beneath his lashes. 

“That’s shitty.” You feel the frown deepen between your brows, angry on his behalf about something he was long over. “No wonder you flipped the principal off.” 

You share your fries with Eddie and eat until your stomach feels warm and full. You share another secret too, tell him about the time you got so scared in a haunted house that you punched some guy dressed as a zombie and got kicked out. He almost choked on a fry at that and laughed so loud that Marie looked over and shook her head fondly at her favourite customer. 

It’s easy to drop the charade that you and Eddie don’t get along. A diner at fuck o’clock in the morning exists a world away from the little bar that pays your rent and bills. When you see him get excited telling you a story, letting you see Eddie beyond the bar, you know you got him wrong - he’s funny as fuck, sweet too. 

Midway through a story about how his friend Robin had dragged him to do (very) drunk karaoke last week, Eddie catches you staring and scrunches his face a little. “Am I rambling? Fuck, sorry.”

“No. Well, a little, but I like it.” You sip the dregs of your refilled Coke and smile a little. 

He smiles back, ducking his head just a little and he catches the time on his watch. His Bambi brown eyes blow wide when he realises. “Jesus, I oughta get you home. The sun will be up soon.” 

You didn’t realise either, but you also don’t care. You’re still tired, still aching, but you feel lighter than you have in months, like a long-dead spark might just be coming back. The warm glow is dampened just a bit when Eddie gulps down the last of his drink. 

He pulls his jacket back on and insists that he helps you put yours on when you wince. He settles the bill, kisses the back of Marie’s hand and promises to come see her soon. Neither of you let her down when she says she hopes to see you again sometime. 

It’s cooler outside now, but the warmth in Eddie’s car and his gentle singing along to the radio rocks you into a light doze as he drives the few blocks to the address you gave him. It kills him to wake you once he’s parked outside. 

The small frown lines on your forehead tell him you’re still in some pain after the tumble you took. The ache in his knuckles felt like nothing in comparison to the twisting anger in his gut when he saw that prick’s foot shove out into your path and you watched as you fell in slow motion.

He gives it a minute, tries not to stare like a creep, before reaching over to shake your knee gently. 

“Hey.” He says your name so softly, so gently, and taps his fingers against your knee. 

You startle slightly and realise where you are. “Sorry, Thanks for the ride, Eddie,” you say quietly. “And the fries. And everything.” 

He smiles again, a gentle curve upward of his lips as his fingers rest on your knee. “Any time. We’re like two or three blocks from each other.” 

Neither of you wants to burst the already waning bubble you have been in since you left the bar. For a moment, you just look at each other until the air becomes too thick, too heady to breathe easy. You’re not entirely convinced that you didn’t hit your head, that this whole night hasn’t been just some dream of yours. The heat of his hand on your leg tells you it’s real. This is something real. 

And still, you make the first move. Pop the bubble. Too much. Too scary. 

Your seatbelt clicks open and you grab your bag as Eddie does the same, coming to open your door and offering you a hand to get out. 

Neither of you let go of the other’s hand, eking out the last of whatever this was before you have to go your separate ways and think about what it could turn into if you only had the bravery. You’re both standing so close and you watch the shadow of his stupid-long lashes under the street light. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Today. Whatever. At work.” You want to slap yourself for stuttering. 

“Only if you feel up to it. Don’t be a hero, princess.”

“That’s your job, Ed. I’ll see you at work. Thank you, again..”

You squeeze his hand, he squeezes back.

You walk to your door and Eddie rounds the car again to the driver's side. He raises a hand to salute you as you turn to give him one little wave before closing the door. 

“Fuck,” you sigh with your back pressed to the wood of the door.  “Fuck.” Eddie growls as his head drops against the roof of the car. 

You both take a minute. Need a minute before you can move on. 

You drag yourself up the stairs and let yourself in, quiet enough to not wake your flatmate. Eddie waits to see your light come on before starting the car and driving the two blocks to his place. 

After popping some painkillers you crawl into bed. Even your racing mind and pounding heart can’t keep you from falling into the deepest sleep you have had in months. Your dreams echo with Eddie’s happy throaty laugh, the gasp from the bar when he threw the first punch, the sound you made when you saw a fist crash into his pretty face.

You sleep late through the Saturday morning city sounds as they turn to afternoon and float through your cracked open window. You sleep until your flatmate knocks to check you made it home and are still breathing, then doze off again while she makes brunch for you both. 

Over eggs and bacon, toast and fresh fruit, coffee and Advil, you tell her everything from last night and show her your bruises. She runs to CVS to get arnica cream and more painkillers while you strip your bed, shower and do laundry, keep busy to keep the recurring thoughts of Eddie from your head. 

While you are folding clean clothes from earlier in the week back into your drawers, you come across a guitar pick Eddie had left on the bar one time before your shift started; once lost from his pocket, found again amongst the collection of shirts and shorts and jeans you wore to work. You had meant to give it back, then he had called you a brat for something stupid. Maybe he had burped too loud in your direction, and so you didn’t bother. As you run your thumb over the smooth curve of it, you think maybe he’s been at the back of your mind for a longer time than you even realised.

You’re sore all over but you call Michelle and let her know you will be in for your shift. You don’t tell her that you stayed out extra late with Eddie talking about stupid shit and laughing until your face hurt - you're not sure you could handle her sweet smugness over the phone. 

After a long bath to soak your muscles and a huge plate of pasta for dinner, you get ready for work. Denim shorts, a tight black t-shirt tucked in, and your trusty Dr Martens (despite the heat). You add some jewellery, spritz your perfume, and fix your hair up off the back of your neck to keep cool. You swipe some Raisin Rage on your lips before wiping it off in favour of a slick of cherry flavour Chapstick. At the last minute, the lipstick makes its way into your bag - just in case. 

It’s just after six when you step back into Jackie’s to help cut wedges of lime and lemon for drinks, make sure the barrels and kegs are hooked up properly, the mixers ready to go. It’s almost time to open up and you haven’t seen (or heard) Eddie yet. You chase your disappointment with a quick smoke break with one of the summer hires before Frank pulls you aside, making sure you’re okay after last night (and that you’re not thinking of suing the bar or anything).

“My wages wouldn’t cover a lawyer, Frank. Even with the tips,” you smirk before stepping from his office out into the hall, running straight into black denim and spicy cologne. 

“Woah, easy there.” Eddie’s hands steady you, two wide palms on your arms that squeeze gently when you look up into his smiling face. “You’re a fuckin’ liability, honey.”

Your cheeks feel hot but you shove his chest gently. “I was wondering when you’d arrive. It was so peaceful and quiet, what a shame.” 

Back to normal. Except Eddie’s hands are still on your arms, his thumb circling on the round of your shoulder. “Feelin’ okay?” he checks, speaking quietly just for you. 

You nod and lift your hand, taking his chin between your finger and thumb, feeling brave alongside the little intake of breath Eddie just about hides. “No bruises. Good.” 

There’s a beat where you and Eddie aren’t quite sure what you mean, what to say next. You’re glad that Frank calls for Eddie from his office, wanting to have the same chat with him as he had with you. It gives you both a good excuse to let go of each other, figure out what the fuck that was before your shift starts.

He squeezes your shoulders and gives you a little smile before letting you go. “Be good. Don’t get in trouble.” 

“I’ll try, hot shot,” you say quietly, giving him a wink before going to join Michelle and the other bartenders for a quick pre-open meeting - but not before you dip into your locker to pat a layer of lipstick on. 

The crowd begins to trickle in, slow and steady until it’s packed full and the music blares just loud enough. They’re a fun crowd tonight, and everyone is in good spirits now that it’s not quite so oppressively hot outside. You don’t have time to think about much else in between chatting to customers and mixing drinks; shaking cocktails is a bit more laborious when your body aches but you don’t complain. 

It’s almost eleven before you take your break. You take another Advil before slipping past the Staff Only door. The air is tinged with smoke as Eddie leans against the brick, waiting. 

His face lights up when he sees you and the two glasses you’re carrying. “Double fisting?” he asks, taking another drag. 

“One for you, one for me. Mines the water.” You extend out the dark fizzing highball glass to him, which he eyes suspiciously. He passes you the nearly burnt-out smoke as a trade-off. 

“What’s this?” he asks, “The witch's potion? I knew you’d take me out by poisoning me.”

You prop yourself on your stool and sip your ice water, smirking into your glass. “It’s a Roman Coke.” 

Eddie’s laugh rings through the alley and he holds up the glass. “You fuckin’... Wow. What an honour.” His free hand covers his heart, silver rings glinting in the light. It would be easy to think he’s being condescending or playing around, it’s what you do. But Eddie is genuinely a little bit touched and a whole lot smitten. He can feel his heart beating faster under his palm. 

You pass him a paper-wrapped straw before watching as he takes a curious sip of your special mix. You take a drag of his cigarette and watch his eyes blow wide as he computes the flavours. 

“D’you hate it?” you ask carefully.

“What is in this? It’s insane! I really like it,” Eddie says, grinning. 

His smile makes your tummy flutter. 

“It’s rum - but like, a coffee-infused rum - and Coca-Cola, with Sambuca,” you list off the ingredients that had been turning over in your head all evening. 

Eddie nods as he takes another sip, letting the flavours wash over his tongue. “Mm, I like it. You’re a real little alchemist, huh? Get it on the menu.”

You laugh and pass him back his smoke. “Nah. That’s an Eddie special. Just to say thanks..” 

Eddie looks at you, watching your teeth sink into your stained-dark lip as you wait for him to respond. He’s a shade softer than the usual tough-but-fun guy who works the door, softer than when you’re usually tearing strips off of each other for fun on your breaks. 

“Careful,” he says, voice quiet. He looks almost bashful. 

You frown a little. Your gut twists uncomfortably. Had you read it all wrong? 

“I don’t know what to do with myself when pretty girls are sweet to me,” he says, sipping his drink pointedly. 

The knot in your stomach swoops. He thinks you’re pretty. Eddie thinks you’re pretty. Eddie who flirts with dolled-up girls all night while he’s checking IDs.

You look back at him, see how the light and shadows play on the slope of his nose and those long lashes. “You have plenty of practice, Ed,” you say, so quiet. “You always know what to say.”

He smiles just a little and shakes his head. “Not with you. S’why I say stupid shit. Anyway, no one’s as pretty or sweet as you,” he says. “Even when you’re mean. Especially when you’re mean - so fuckin’ pretty then.”

Your laugh is almost involuntary, cheeks feeling warm. “That was smooth, Eddie,” you say, teasing him again; that was comfortable, less scary. 

“It was? Oh good. I’m fighting for my life here.” He laughs and leans against the wall beside you. 

He’s taller than you as you sit on your stool, tuning your body sideways to look up at him. “Putting the moves on me, Munson?” 

“Is it working?” Eddie raises his brows, pushing them up under his choppy fringe. There’s a playful twinkle in his eyes, hopeful and yet apprehensive. 

“Yeah, I think it might be,” you whisper, biting your lip again. He wants to bite it for you, soothe the pinch of his sharp teeth with his silver tongue. 

You reach a hand out, sliding your fingertips up over the back of his hand and wrist until they slip under the cuff of his sleeve. You bring his hand down onto your thigh, warm and bare in the summer evening heat. 

You’re feeling brave. Eddie is too. 

He leaves his drink on the sill next to your water and steps closer, his hand huge on your legs as he feels the smoothness of your skin and the frayed hem of your denim shorts. Eddie crowds closer, smelling the sweetness of your perfume as his leg slots between your knees. His eyes flick from looking at your lips to searching your gaze for any hesitation or hint that you’re just fucking with him. He finds none and feels braver than ever. 

He dips down, brushing his nose against your cheek and hears your intake of breath, that little gasp he wants to swallow and consume. His lips press a kiss to the corner of your mouth, begging sweetly without a word. 

You turn your head just a fraction to close the minute gap, bringing your lips together. With your hand on his neck, you feel his pulse race in time with your own beneath the stroke of your thumb, sliding down the strong tendon to where it meets his shoulder. 

Eddie’s lips press and slot with yours, plush and gentle and tasting sweet like Coca-Cola. He kisses you slowly, savouring the feeling of your lips on his. You pull him as close as you can, your warm breaths mingling as he sneaks a look to make sure you’re real. 

He is gentle behind the bawdy jokes and leather and silver rings. He’s softer than anyone can see. But you can feel that sweet softness in the way he cups your face before kissing you again. Eddie strokes his tongue against your lower lip to ask for permission he doesn’t need. It makes you shiver as that smooth-talking tongue slides with yours, making you gasp. 

Before it can build pressure and turn any steamier, he slows it back down and kisses you in slow pecks again before leaning his forehead against yours. He can’t stop himself from smiling and doesn’t even try to pretend he’s not elated when he feels your shy smile too. 

Behind that smile, you’re aching for more. You want to run your fingers up through his curls and tug, be kissed breathless by him. You want a hundred more soft kisses, feel his smile on your mouth. You want to feel him everywhere. 

“You okay?” he whispers, and can’t resist pushing another kiss against your cheek before moving back to look at you again. 

“More than okay.” You bring your thumb to swipe the lipstick transferred over from your lips to his. You want to see every shade you own smeared around his mouth. 

Eddie kisses your thumb, before pretending to nip it to make you laugh. “Are you going to be able to go back to the bar?” 

You shake your head, smiling before sighing over-dramatically and fixing a pout on your face. It drives him mad in the best way. “Mm, maybe give me one more for luck?” you whisper. 

He puts you out of your misery with one more long lingering kiss. “I’m not done kissing you. At all.” Another peck, because he cannot simply stop himself. “I’ll wait for you after work.” 

Your smile is too big to hide, rendered speechless by his confession. So you nod, giving his lower lip one last swipe to remove the evidence before patting his cheek. 

Eddie reluctantly backs off for his own good. He had thought about pressing you against the bricks and kissing you stupid too many times to be decent. He still will - it’s at the top of his bucket list - but just not now.

He grabs his drink, downs it, and gives you a wink. “Don’t go sharing that recipe, okay? That’s for me only, sugar.” 

“Cross my heart,” you tease, sitting on your hands so you don’t drag him back against you. You think he might just be okay with it if you did. 

“Later…” As if he can read your mind, he backs away with absolute mischief in his eyes. 

“Later.” You wiggle your fingers at him and laugh when he almost walks ass-first into the stacked crates of empty bottles. He swears at them and flips them off before throwing one last wink your way. 

Once you’re sure Eddie has turned the corner of the building you cover your face with your hands and smile into them, murmuring ‘What the fuck, what the fuck’ as your cheeks heat up your palms. 

When you have just about gathered yourself, you head back inside and fix your smudged lipstick. You tap Michelle’s hip when you get back, signalling for her to go take her break. 

She looks you over, suspicious of where exactly that coy little smile came from. As she throws one last look over her shoulder, she sees Eddie at the open door, looking just as dreamy and pleased with himself.  

The rest of your shift passes without incident, which is a miracle because all you have been thinking of is Eddie Eddie Eddie. Eddie’s lips, Eddie’s hands. Eddie’s strong inked arms and his sturdy thighs. His lips (again). 

You caught each other’s eye a few times during the night, and it made you feel hot all over. Especially when he was being a total gentleman to some pretty girls, telling them to get home safe. You had felt his dark–chocolate stare on you as you laughed with customers, and shook up cocktails while he watched the strength of your arms and the subtle bounce of your breasts. Knowing Eddie was watching, thinking about how he might kiss you again later, made you slick with desire and excitement. 

You ring the bell for last call at 2 a.m. as your feet burn, and arms ache. There’s a flurry of orders while Jeff and Eddie close the doors and stand inside shooting the shit together, bidding customers good night as they leave in pairs and groups. By three it’s kicking out time and the few reluctant stragglers take recommendations for pizza joints and all-night diners to soak up the alcohol. While the bouncers do one last sweep of the place, you work through your checklist with a singular motivator; kissing Eddie Munson. 

With anticipation buzzing in your chest, you wipe spills behind the bar, refrigerate the mixers and hand-wash the muddlers and stirrers from the cocktails. The younger guys fill the dishwasher with glasses and barware. You thank your stars that it’s not your night on bathroom duty, refilling the straws instead and making a note for Frank of what’s running low before he does his full inventory and stocktake. It’s a well-oiled machine and your duties are finished in record time... 

Eddie made himself useful, staying out of your way (but watching closely, in absolute awe of you) in favour of picking up a broom and keeping the music going to keep morale up. He leans on the clean bar, chin on his hand as he looks at you standing with your hands on your hips. “Wanna get out of here?” he asks, tilting his head toward the back door. 

You nod, “Gimme two.” You restrain yourself from running to your locker (a quick walk is sufficient and unsuspicious). You fix your hair, blot your shiny face and spray deodorant and perfume again before opting for cherry flavour Chapstick. Extra lipstick this late? Far too eager. 

After a quick round of goodbyes, you notice Eddie and Michelle have both already gone and you rush around to meet him by the door. One taste and you are hooked, needing another kiss like your next breath. When you can’t see him, it’s like your lungs shrink. There’s no lingering scent of his cologne or swirling smoke, no glowing cherry or loud laugh in the back alley… 

Breathe. In, out. Calm the anxious flutters. Is he already at his car? 

Just as you’re about to round the building, the back door opens and an almost frantic-eyed Eddie nearly catches you with the door... “Hi,” he breathes. Relief. A sigh you both share before the smile, the relief. 

“Shit, did I get you?” He puts his hands on your shoulders and squeezes when you shake your head. His hands skate down your arms to squeeze your hands. “Sorry, got distracted inside. Can I... Can I drive you home?” 

Your nod is far too eager and you squeeze back, your rings tapping against Eddie’s. You drop each other’s hands but stay close to each other. This is new and unnamed and you don’t want the work crowd throwing questions at you before you have even figured it out yourself. 

Your hands and arms bump as you round the building together and for once neither of you know what to say. When you look up, Eddie is already sneaking a glance at you; he smiles when you catch him and you both dissolve into laughter. 

“What the fuck, you’re literally never this quiet,” you tease, elbowing him gently. “Say something.” 

Eddie takes your hand again, swinging his arm with yours. “You looked hot tonight. Like, hotter than usual.” Eddie licks his lower lip and it makes your stomach flip. 

“You think so? It must be the drink I made you. Pretty strong…” 

“Maybe. Maybe it’s ‘cause I couldn’t stop thinking about you, how you kiss.” He’s so smooth and it makes you feel warm all over. 

Close to his car now, you slow your stroll and lean against the passenger side. “Yeah? Maybe you should kiss me some more then, seeing as you can’t stop thinking about it.” 

“Oh, I’m gonna.” He grins and crowds you against the shiny black metal, bracing one hand on the roof as the other loops around your middle to press your body close. 

It’s like stars bursting behind your eyes when you feel Eddie’s lips on yours again. This kiss is eager and almost needy after hours of trying and failing to not eye-fuck each other. The hand lying low on your back slips lower and Eddie uses the leverage to step his thigh between yours with a delicious press of pressure. When you gasp he takes the opportunity to dominate the kiss a little more, licks his tongue against yours in a dirty slide.

You haven’t been kissed like this in a long time, all tongue and pulling soft gasps from each other. It has been even longer since you have been heckled while you’re kissing someone; Michelle breaks that streak as she wolf-whistles at you from across the street as she walks to her own car. 

“Get a room!” You don’t see her grin and salute as you laugh into Eddie’s chest, hugging your arms around him beneath his jacket. He kisses your forehead and holds you after flipping Michelle off with a rosy-cheeked smirk.

“She made me late, by the way. Gave me the talk in the office.” 

You rest your chin on his chest, pulling your eyebrows together. “The birds and the bees? Where do babies come from?” You laugh when he pokes your ribs and holds your squirming body closer still.

“Ha ha, jokes on you. That’s next week.” 

You muffle your laugh against his black t-shirt. 

“No, just that I better treat you good and not fuck around. Don’t want work to be awkward, blah blah.” Eddie squeezes your hips. “She also said ‘It’s about damn time’.”

You nod slowly, remembering her quips over the last few months about how you two should just shut up and get over yourselves, bang it out or something. It seemed like it was obvious to everyone but you and Eddie just what was going on behind your little frenemy routine. 

“Well then…” you say quietly. 

“Well then indeed…” Eddie echoes. 

There’s a lot for you to figure out. You can’t just kiss your co-worker and expect everything to stay the same, but inside you think that maybe you don’t want that and Eddie doesn’t either. That’s something you both need to figure out, but right now you just might die if you don’t kiss him again soon. 

“Eddie?” 

“Yeah?”

“Can I come to your place?” you ask quietly. 

Eddie nods, eyes sparkling. “Yeah. Yeah, fuck. I’d like that a lot. Are you sure you want to? We don’t have to...”

You rock up on your toes to kiss him again. “I want to. Let’s just... See where it goes?”

A little breathless, Eddie nods and roots for his car keys to unlock the door. He pecks your lips again before you both get into the car. This time he keeps his hand on your knee while he drives through the dark streets, only moving it to change gears. You keep it there, smoothing over the rings he wears with your fingers. 

You recognise Eddie’s street - there’s the bagel place you go to, the camera store where you get film developed. You can’t believe he’s been this near all along. 

He swings the car into a little parking garage under the building and takes the spot reserved for apartment 8. You twist in your seat to face him and see he looks a little lost in thought. “I can go home if you prefer?” you say. 

“No no. Please, don’t. I’m just.. thinkin’ about how messy my room might be.” He twists one of his rings and you cover his hand again to stop the anxious little movement you recognised from your own fidgeting.

“I don’t mind. Being nocturnal can be pretty shitty for keeping your place clean,” you say. 

Eddie nods, shoulders deflating now that he’s less worried you’re going to think he’s a total animal.

You pull his hand back over to your lap, fingers intertwined. “Anyway, I’m not here to snoop at your stuff, Eddie.” You shrug a little, hiding your smile as he thumps his head against the seat. 

“You’re going to be the death of me, I know it.” 

“You should be so lucky.” 

Your lips meet again halfway across the centre console, smiling mouths and ringed fingers grasping at each other, wherever you can reach. A rogue elbow hits the horn, making both of you jump - Eddie yelps - then dissolve into a fit of giggles which Eddie gladly smothers with one more kiss. 

“Lemme get your door, princess,” he says, lips brushing your chin and cheek one more time before freeing you from his hold to hop out and round the bonnet. You could get used to this… 

There are more kisses in the small shaky elevator, crowded to the mirrored wall as Eddie’s lips get acquainted with your jaw and neck, finding that spot below your ear that makes you moan his name quietly, tug him closer by his belt loops. 

You drive him crazy in the best way, he makes you feel wanted - perhaps craved is more apt - as his hands run over the flare of your hips and dip to your behind.

The elevator stops, dings, and you drag Eddie’s mouth to your own again to taste his tongue before he takes your hand and does his best not to drag you to the door marked with a brassy 8. 

“Shit,” he mutters, fighting with his keys to find the right one as you slip a hand up the side of his t-shirt, feeling the trail of hair below his navel to scratch through. 

“You’re a demon. An actual devil woman,” he hisses, resting his forehead against the door as he lets you distract him for a second. Before you can tease him anymore, Eddie turns and takes your face gently in one hand. “You actually want to come in or am I going to need to put you over my shoulder and bring you back to the car?” 

His eyes are burning with want, lips pink and puffy from your kisses. He watches your pupils blow wide and sees the gulp in your throat. 

“You gonna behave?” 

All you can do is nod, brain static with want, accept a kiss on the pout he’s placed on your lips, and try not to swoon or combust on the spot while he wins his battle with lock and key. 

Eddie flicks the light on inside and throws his keys in a saucer sitting on a little table inside the door. There’s a short hallway with a fairly full junk closet before you step into the apartment proper. You told him you weren’t here to snoop, but the urge to look around and soak in all you can about Eddie Munson is too good to pass. 

A typical boy's apartment really - an open plan kitchen/living room with a second-hand sofa and mismatched chair, a coffee table cluttered with an empty mug and a full ashtray, a fresh pack of cigarettes and a forgotten Coke can. There are some amps stacked in a corner, framed posters yet to be hung as they prop against the wall. It’s kind of exactly what you expected. 

Eddie twists a piece of hair around his finger, watching you look around. “Can I get you a water…?” he suggests, “Hungry?” 

“Mind if I use your phone? I want to leave a message on my voicemail so my flatmate doesn’t think I died or got in another bar fight.” Sense prevails over your desire to get your fingers back under his shirt, find out what other ink he has hidden beneath. 

“Sure, good idea.” Eddie points to the phone on the wall by the little breakfast bar. You notice a Garfield mug which makes you smile a little. “Back in a sec.”

While you’re leaving a message on your answer phone, Eddie stuffs dirty and clean laundry into some approximation of where they should be. He fixes the blanket and duvet on his bed - thankfully freshly changed - and strums his Sweetheart before hearing you hang up the phone. He takes a peek in the mirror after removing his jacket, shakes out his curls and gives his arms a quick flex before telling himself he’s an idiot - being friends with Steve Harrington has definitely altered his brain chemistry in some sort of way. 

Meanwhile, you have already given your own armpit a sniff and fixed your hair in the reflection of Eddie’s microwave before you hear his boots on the wood floor again. 

“Did you get prettier while I was..?” he looks between you and his left-ajar door glowing with the bedside lamp he had left on. 

You roll your eyes at him before following him to sit on the sofa, leaving your bag and jacket on the well-worn cushion of the armchair next to it. He flicks some music on low and relaxes back into the cushions, watching you decide where to put yourself. 

“Any time you want to go, just say. I’ll drive you home,” he says quietly. You can feel the warmth of his arm where it stretches across the back of the sofa.

Scooting closer, you turn your body to face him a little more. “Thank you. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be, Ed. Promise.”

He nods and welcomes you back under his arm, pressing his lips to your head while one big hand squeezes the top of your arm. “You smoke?” he asks, nodding to a little box like the lockbox you have for petty cash at work. When he flicks it open, you see some pre-rolled joints, papers and a bag of green. 

“Oh shit, you’ve been holding out on me, Munson,” you tease, poking his ribs before he sits back next to you with a joint and his Bic lighter. 

Eddie flashes his brows upward as he sticks it between his lips to light up. “Something something… Not mixing business and pleasure?” he says, muffled by the joint. He takes a hit before offering it to you, fingers brushing as you raise your brows in turn. 

“Oh yeah? I think we’re doing plenty of that tonight.” You take a drag with a smiling mouth as Eddie’s eyes darken and flash mischief again. 

“Yeah, think so. Been thinking about it a lot longer than I’ll ever admit though,” he says, watching how your breath catches and you cough a little. He tuts playfully, “Am I going to need to show you how, or are you pretending so I’ll shotgun you?” 

You fan your hand in front of your face to give yourself some air before flipping him off. “Be nice, s’been a while.” You tap your fingers against his knee. “Wait, go back. How long have you been pining over me?” You’re more careful when you take your next hit, raising your brows expectantly at Eddie.

Eddie rolls his eyes as he takes the joint back; after another hit, he taps the ash off the end. “Not your business.”

“Absolutely my business. Go on. Was it when I wore that little dress to the Christmas party? Oh no, I bet it was when I spilt that pitcher of beer on my stupid white shirt… Fuck, I forgot that.” 

Eddie remembers both vividly (especially the little dress) but no, it was way before either of those incidents. “You going to keep annoying me ‘til I tell you?” 

“Yep.” You grin and watch him take a long slow hit. His lips wrap around the end and his cheeks hollow, showing off those sharp cheekbones. “Tell me,” you sing. 

He holds the smoke in before sighing it out with his head back against the sofa to look at the ceiling. His head turns to look at you instead. “Maybe like… the first shift we worked together? Maybe the second, either way, you were shaking up spicy margaritas or somethin’, had this little smirk on your face. Then later you asked me for a cigarette and the rest is history…” 

Your cheeks heat at his confession and Eddie’s do the same. He’s embarrassed and you feel like an idiot for letting your hang-ups get in the way of really seeing Eddie and giving him a chance. 

“Jesus, Ed.” You squeeze his arm, just below the flurry of bats tattooed there. 

His arm sizzles where you touch him - well, that’s how it feels to Eddie anyway. “We got a good thing going though, I mean I really do enjoy it. Making you huff at me and roll your eyes. Fuck.” His smile is cheeky, a little dirty as he licks his lower lip. 

You laugh together and let him bring the joint to your mouth. Your eyes slip closed as you inhale before opening again to see Eddie watching you. It reignites the spark low in your gut as you begin to feel nice and fuzzy around the edges. 

Eddie takes one last hit before saving the rest, stubbing the joint in the ashtray on the arm of the sofa. His eyes don’t stray from yours as you crawl into his lap. 

You twist one of his curls around your fingers; his hair is soft and the curls springy. “Guess it was like…perverse flirting or really long foreplay?”

“Mm, hot.” He squeezes your thigh. “I’m good with both of those. That is if you let me take you out. A real date.”

You pretend to consider it, though you are already in his lap, in his home, ready to give him anything he asks for. “Yeah, I’d like that. Last night was real nice, just talking with you. Just… get me some flowers instead of punching a guy next time?” 

He copies your faux-consideration and nods, “Deal.”

Said deal is sealed with a kiss; this one is sweet and warm, soft even. You both know you are skipping ahead of your date, but as you smile against each other’s mouths, Eddie thinks he might just keep you in his lap forever if you let him. 

Your lips press and slide, tongues tangle and tease as the intensity simmers to a boil again. His hands roam up your thighs and around to grasp two handfuls of you, pulling you close as you press yourself against him. You can feel the hot breaths through his nose against your cheek, and Eddie wants to groan at the feeling of your breasts pushed up against him. Your bravery builds in tandem with how much you want and need him and you start up a slow roll of your hips. 

Eddie swears against your mouth, “Shit, you feel good.” He squeezes his hands and pushes his own hips up, letting you feel how thick and hard he is for you. 

Your whimper makes him crazy-mad with lust, Eddie’s lips feeling the vibration as he kisses your throat and finds that spot on your neck again. He wants to mark it, hear what noise that would pull from your pretty, kiss-bitten mouth. From the corner of his eye, he sees the flutter of your lashes, the way your mouth drops open. He thinks you are so pretty and it makes the ache in his chest pulse like a bruise. 

You direct him back to your lips with a gentle tug, opening your eyes before you press a kiss to his lower lip before leaning back enough to untuck and pull off your t-shirt. Eddie’s jaw twitches as he feasts his eyes on the black lace cups you fill out so perfectly, the glint of your necklace beneath the hollow of your throat. 

He moves both hands back to your waist where the denim cuts in, fingertips skating the bare skin above. “Can I?” he asks, looking up to your eyes. 

Instead of answering, you cover both hands with your much smaller ones, guiding them upward until you feel the warmth of his hands cover and cup the weight. 

“You’re gorgeous,” Eddie whispers, looking at your face again as his thumbs seek and stroke the pebbled nipples beneath. 

Eddie had never been subtle when he checked you out at work; he made playful and bawdy comments his cover story to get away with letting his eyes linger a little too long on your chest. You let him away with it every time, knowing you would get him riled up another way later that shift or on the next one. 

When you look down, the sight and feel of his guitar-scarred hands on your chest make you bite your lip hard. Your palms skate over the gooseflesh of Eddie’s arms, over the bulk of his biceps and shoulders as he learns how to make you keen for him with just his hands on your breasts. You pull him in for another filthy kiss and blindly glide your fingers down his chest to the top of his trousers. You have already felt how hard he is under the roll and grind of your hips, but it’s not enough. Eddie deserves to be touched and tasted after all this time, pining over you. Not because you pity him, you want to make up for lost time. 

His hips press upward, seeking out your touch; you adjust yourself to straddle one of his thighs and flip the hem of his t-shirt up to get at the button and zip. Your eyes are fixed on the hard line of him pushing up against the fabric; your fingers brush over it before undoing the fastenings, making his breath catch in his throat. 

“I want you so bad,” he murmurs, tilting his head up to kiss your jaw again. That makes you pulse right between your legs; you relish the firmness of his thigh pressing against you there as he kisses his way back to your lips. You pull away only to push the black work pants and tartan cotton boxers down enough to get at him, to see him. 

Eddie watches your eyes flash when you see the thick length of him, brushing your fingertips up and down to watch it kick with arousal. You nuzzle against his cheek as you take him in your hand, telling him how big and pretty his dick is before beginning to stroke him. In your mind, you’re thinking about how he will feel inside you and in your mouth, but you try to focus on kissing his neck and learning how he likes to be touched. He’s rock hard and weeping at the tip, it makes your mouth water.

“You think about me when you do this for yourself?” you ask, pausing to lick your hand before grasping him again. The tinge of salt on your tongue makes you want more. 

Eddie nods, eyebrows pinching together. “Fuck, I do. Tried not to, but I can’t help it.” 

That makes you feel hot all over and you rock yourself against his thigh to relieve the pulsing between your legs. “M’here now, don’t need to pretend anymore, Eddie.” Your lips brush his jaw and the way he moans, the way he pulses with arousal in your hand, it makes you giggle. 

“You’re literally gonna kill me,” he groans and rests his forehead against yours, eyes squeezed shut. 

“I’m not. Promise. Just want you to feel good,” you say, and kiss him again when your hand picks up the pace. 

Eddie’s hips rock upward into your fist. His hand stills your arm and he has to take a few breaths before looking at you - his chocolate-button eyes are consumed by dilated pupils. “This’ll be over real fast if you keep that up, baby. You’ll never let me live that down.”

His head dips to kiss across the tops of your breasts before running his nose up along your throat. His head tilts toward his room. “Can we? Been thinking about you in my bed.” 

You nod, keep cool even though the butterflies in your stomach are back with a flurry of vengeance. Eddie grins, which sets you off too, and you tuck him back into his boxers before moving to let him stand. 

He offers you a hand and twirls you once. “Hold on. Let me just..” 

Eddie pauses, looks you up and down and you know he’s up to no good. Before you can figure him out he has you over his shoulder with a surprising show of strength. You squeal-laugh, slapping your hand on the back of his thigh. “EDDIE!” 

His laugh is throaty and rough - like an honest-to-god gremlin - and he just about manages to keep his pants up as he carries you to his room. “You seemed to like the idea of that earlier, what you complainin’ about, baby?” 

You can only laugh in response until you’re deposited onto his bed with more care and gentleness than anticipated. You lay back to catch your breath, cheeks warm and aching as you grin up at Eddie. You’re certainly not unimpressed by his ability to fireman-lift and carry you. He kneels to untie your boot-laces, then his own. You sit up and pop the button on your shorts before Eddie takes over, removing them along with your shoes to leave you in your only slightly mismatched underwear and bra - they’re both black, and Eddie doesn’t notice or care. All he sees is you, in his bed.

His t-shirt and pants are left in a heap with your clothes and in a moment he is with you, laying you back to kiss you everywhere. His hands and lips map your body, kissing freckles and stretchmarks, nuzzling the red mark your bra left around your middle when it’s removed and lost to the floor. He notes the ticklish spots on your ribs, saves them for later, and lavishes kisses on your bare breasts. 

As Eddie lays his body between your spread legs, you wish you had longer to see the new ink revealed to you but take the chance to stroke his hair like you have been wanting to. He practically purrs and chases the relaxing motion, leaning against your hand when he breaks his trail of kisses to the band of your underwear. The light is too dim to see how soaked they are, a darker shade of black between your legs caused by him, but Eddie knows it’s there and teases his fingers over the damp heat. He smiles when your hips jump up at the friction. 

His chin rests on your hip bone while he looks up. “This okay?” he checks, dipping his fingertips up past the elastic around the top of your thigh. He goes no further until you nod, breathe out ‘yes, please’.

You get the feeling that if Eddie was still wearing pants, your undies would go right in his back pocket. The thought of that alone makes you throb as Eddie looks at the feast in front of his eyes. 

“Oh she’s pretty,” he murmurs, biting his lip. “And so wet f’me…” 

You gasp when he finally touches you, stroking his finger down the seam of you. He swears and shifts his hips against the bed when he feels your wetness and watches his finger come away shiny. 

He pushes one kiss below your belly button before getting comfy, manoeuvring one leg over his shoulder with his arm around for good measure. His curls tickle against your leg but all you can focus on is how his tongue strokes and licks, how his lips suck and press. 

His name bounces off the poster-clad walls, your voice gaspy and ragged when his tongue circles your clit before pushing its way inside you to seek out your soak. 

“So sweet, I knew you would be.” His voice is a murmur against your cunt, there and gone again as he seals his lips around your clit. 

“Fuhhh- Eddie.” 

One hand balled in the duvet, the other a crown atop his dark curls as you shift your hips and help him find the angle that is just right. He is rewarded with a scalp-burning tug and a guttural moan you can’t even begin to be embarrassed by as he feasts on you like a starved man. 

His fingers squish your doughy thigh before he slows to a pause - it’s brief and yet you whine in complaint. You feel his breathy laugh against your folds, his murmured ‘easy, baby’. Eddie stopped only to remove the rings on his right hand so that he could push one, then two, deep inside seeking out your g-spot before you can comprehend that his rings are on your fingers for safekeeping. 

His eyes are fixed on you; your heaving chest and breasts, the blissed-out expression on your face. He knows when he has found it, feeling you gush in time with a wet, wobbly moan of his name and the pained-by-pleasure look that graces your pretty face. 

“That’s it, huh? Good girl,” he murmurs. He earns another loud moan as you arch your back to chase absolute bliss. 

Eddie’s hips roll against the mattress - if you had the brain capacity to notice you would surely die on the spot. Your heart already feels like it is about to leap from your chest, blood pounding in your ears as he keeps up the pace and pressure. He can hear and feel how close you are as your voice gets higher, begging brokenly ‘yes, yes! Eddieeee!’ when you free fall over the edge. 

Your body goes tense and then boneless as he works you through it, not letting up until you nudge his head with your thigh. “Too mm-much,” you slur, hips twitching. Eddie presses gentle kisses and murmurs words of praise against your sensitive sex; he leans into how you stroke his head while you come back to the land of the living. 

“Y’okay?” he asks, smiling up at you with shiny lips. He eases his fingers out, marvels at just how soaked they are in the golden glow of the bedside light before kneeling up and licking them clean. “Knew you’d be sweet, sugar.” He winks and you curl in on yourself as you shake with laughter. 

“You’re a menace, Munson. Remind me how you've been single all this time when you can do that?”

You take his hand, pulling him down so he is lying on top of you. He’s hard against your hip, but isn’t pushy with getting you to do something about it as he lies with you, holding you as you bask in the afterglow. 

“Guess I had this really big weird crush on a pretty girl, got me in a dry spell,” he teased. He smacks a smooch to your cheek and makes a pleased little noise when you pull him in for a proper kiss, taking your cheek in his ring-less hand. 

You let yourself feel a little smug as you drag your fingertips up his back, swirling and stroking until they brush the band of his boxers. “Do you have condoms?” you whisper against his lips, hoping that the dry spell won't ruin your plans.

Eddie nods and peels himself away to kneel up and reach over to his messy bedside table, digging an almost full box from the top drawer. He squints at the date and takes one from the packet with a pleased grin, “We’re in luck.”

You reach out to palm him through the straining cotton, feeling the growing damp spot and smiling up at him as his tongue darts out to lick his lower lip. You sit up, pushing his boxers down with both hands. They join the rest of the forgotten clothes on the floor while you get your hands back on Eddie’s body. You see more ink usually hidden beneath his clothes; you want to look at each tattoo, study it and ask him what it means, listen to him tell you more stories and secrets. But there’s plenty of time for that. 

Eddie smiles against your mouth when you wrap your fingers around him again, chancing a glance to watch your hand - your hand heavy with his rings - stroking him. His hips jerk almost of their own volition; his brain has most certainly gone static. “Jesus, fuck,” he murmurs. 

You catch on a moment later and giggle against his shoulder. “That got you going, huh? Me wearing your rings…”

“You get me going. That’s just extra hot.” His voice catches when you squeeze him again, and he calls you a devil woman one more time. You’re getting used to it, kinda like it. 

The foil packet crinkles under Eddie’s knee. You push his chest gently, sending him to sit up against the headboard so you can make his lap your throne again. Without hesitation, you tear the foil and roll the latex down over the diamond-hard length that’s weeping for you to sit on it. He steadies your hips as you hold the base of him, sinking down through the stretch and pinch eased only by how soaked you still are. 

It’s intense, the burn and the closeness. Eddie’s forehead against yours as you watch him watching you take him inside. The lingering tendrils of the weed you smoked together make it all so deliciously fuzzy and warm. Neither of you makes a move, settling into the tight heat and fullness of Eddie inside you. 

His fingers stroke your hips while yours twirl the ends of his hair, touch his silver chain and brush up his neck so that you can cup his jaw and kiss him again. You hold on to each other tighter as you begin to raise and roll your hips, savouring the stretch until your body tells you to move faster, harder. 

“Look how pretty you are,” Eddie murmurs, taking in the bounce of your breasts and the way your jaw hangs open as you move in his lap. “Yeah, that’s my girl. Are you my girl, baby?” 

You whimper, holding him tighter and closer as you nod. “I’m yours, Eddie. All yours.” Your voice wobbles but not because you’re unsure, you’re just feeling so good, so full. 

Eddie groans deep in his throat, squeezing your hips and ass tighter as he helps you to bounce. You pause, focusing on rolling rather than rising to ease the burn in your wobbly thighs; it makes you whimper against his neck. It’s so much but not enough; so good, it’s frustrating.

“Shhh, I got you. You’re just feelin’ too good, huh?” he murmurs, nodding with you when you give a small ‘uh huh’. “Yeah, good girl.”

Your brows crease as you keep rutting your hips. “You feel so big. Fuck, Ed…” 

“You gonna let me do the hard work, hmm? You just lay back and look pretty for me, princess.” His voice is like hot honey, making you drip in his lap. He feels you pulsing, making his hold on your hip tight enough to leave a bruise as he gathers his composure. He’s wanted this so bad for so long, refuses to let himself (and you) down by busting early like a teenager. 

You nod, blissed out as he runs his hands over your warm body. Eddie is careful, so gentle, as he helps you to move up and off of him. He guides you to lay back, comfy on the pillows that smell just like him. You can’t resist nuzzling into them as he makes his way back between your legs. 

“Comfy?” he asks, palming your thigh as you hook your legs over his hips. He watches your eyes, sees that you are a little more with it now, with him. He can’t wait to see you dreamy-eyed and blissed out beneath him. 

You nod and squeeze his hips. “Very comfy.” He sees how your lips pout, asking for a kiss without words.

As if he could say no, refuse you the very thing he himself is craving. 

Eddie leans forward, arms braced on either side of your head and presses his lips to your cheeks, nose and forehead. He laughs quietly when you scowl all mean before you soften at the brushed blessing of his lips against yours.

He reaches down and takes himself in hand, stroking a few times before rubbing the tip against your cunt. He imagines how this would feel without the condom, feels the hot winding pull in his abdomen at the thought before your voice brings him back. He smiles and nudges his nose against yours, mirroring the rub down below.

“Please,” you whisper, lips catching Eddie’s. “Fuck me.”

The eye contact is almost too much, a burning intensity, but you feel hypnotised to keep your eyes on him as he pushes inside. 

You squeeze your lips together, feeling that stretch again, and watch how Eddie’s brows pinch. 

“You feel unreal, baby.”

He rolls his hips and pushes the rest of the way in. Lashes flutter and your jaw drops open. He feels so deep, it’s like he’s all the way in your chest. 

After a moment he begins to thrust slowly, dragging himself halfway out before pushing all the way in again and again and again. Eddie drinks in the little whines and moans that spill from your lips. 

“Don’t go shy on me now,” he whispers, brushing your hair back. When his hips rock again you feel him press against that spot that makes you see stars and there is no way you can keep quiet. 

“There we go, is that it?” Eddie asks, repeating the motion. Your back arches and he hikes your leg higher, almost folding you in half as his thrusts get harder, faster.

You can feel tears pricking your eyes, feeling almost overwhelmed with pleasure. Through the sting, you see Eddie’s clenched jaw, the meaty cord in his neck straining and the rosy glow on his cheeks. 

“Eddie, m’so close,” you whimper, almost tearful as you squeeze his forearm.  

“I know, sweetheart. I can feel it. Fuck.” He huffs through his nose when you flutter around him and he leans over you more, spreading you wider still as he begins to pound his hips into you. He is barely holding on, feeling hot all over as he fucks you, wishes it could last longer but you’re both so tightly wound.

There’s a perfect press and drag against your clit that winds that cord of pleasure inside you tighter and tighter. Your mouths press together; barely a kiss, more a shared moan. One particularly hard thrust brings you to your climax with a broken moan against Eddie’s chin. Your nails press into his rear and pull him in to rut against that spot, fucking you through the most intense orgasm of your life as he meets his own peak with a husky throaty groan.

You feel like you're floating, fallen over the edge in each other's arms.

The weight of Eddie on you brings you slowly back to earth, breath huffing against your neck as you stroke up his back and up into his curls. You take a deep breath in; when you exhale it's shaky and wobbly almost like a quiet sob. 

Eddie summons the strength to press up and look at you, seeing your dazed smile and warm wet cheeks. “Hey,” he wipes the tears gently, “Oh shit. Did I hurt you?” he asks, panic spiking the glowy daze. 

You shake your head, almost giggling when you speak. “No, no. Fuckin’... amazing.” You pull Eddie back down and wrap yourself around him, holding each other as you come back to earth. A few more tears escape and Eddie wipes them away with such reverence. You stay quiet until you can string a sentence together. “That was incredible.” 

He smiles, cupping your face, and kisses you before carefully rolling you onto your sides to face each other to run your fingers over each other's warm bodies and share more kisses. Once he is sure you’re actually okay, he excuses himself to throw the condom away and returns with water and a damp flannel. He spends a moment cleaning you up as you gulp the water down, then finishes the rest and fills it again before closing his bedroom door. 

“You want a t-shirt?” he asks, pulling on a pair of clean boxers before throwing his hair into a low bun.

Despite the blanket, you feel a little shivery and accept the offer. 

He helps you into a well-loved Dio t-shirt before pulling the duvet over you both. Your legs are tangled together as you lie together, as close as you can. Outside, past the closed curtains, the sun is already starting to peek on the horizon.

You hum tiredly against Eddie’s shoulder when you remember the weighty silver on your hand and tap his hip gently. “Hey, Romeo. Your rings.” Your hand comes up in front of his face, wiggling your fingers. 

Eddie smiles, a lazy curl of his lips, and kisses the tips of your fingers before taking them off for you. He reaches back to drop them on his bedside table.

You want to stay awake, stay in the bubble of bliss, but the pull of exhaustion is too strong. 

“Sleepy?” Eddie brushes a kiss on your forehead and flicks the lamp off when you nod. 

“Eddie? Tonight was amazing,” you whisper against his chest.

He smiles in the dark, squeezes your hip. “Yeah, it was. I’ll make tomorrow amazing too if you’ll let me, but you gotta sleep first. Bet you’re really grumpy when you’re tired.”

“Shut up,” you laugh, hiding your face in the pillow. In the dark, you can just see the outlines of each other, shapes and shadows. “Lemme sleep and you can take me for breakfast. Like a date or somethin’.” 

He hides his grin poorly, you can see his teeth flash even with your eyes almost closed. “Nah, breakfast is part of the package. Lemme plan something for our date.” He gives you one last kiss, “Sleep now, sugar.” 

You feel warm, so happy and safe in his arms as you fall asleep. If Eddie asked, you would never leave his arms, leave his bed. And Eddie? Eddie lingers on the precipice of sleep, ready to drift once he knows you’re sleeping soundly. He kisses your forehead one last time before closing his eyes, both holding each other in an utterly blissful sleep. 

Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs and comments are absolutely adored and cherished ❤️

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[selineram3421]

*giggles like a psycho*

First Day

Part 2

Part 1

Alastor and Child Reader

Warning! ⚠

⚠ children (lol), reader being a menace ☺, blood/gore, ALL CAPS Bold red Italics = SOUND AFFECTS, red italics= Alastor's thoughts, fake crying, food mention(desserts), mention of murder, mention of kidnapping, mention of torture, murder of test demon ⚠

You saw the school bus and it was filled with shouts and screeches of other demon children. Making sure you of the item in your pocket, you readied yourself to begin the plan.

Stage one: Have some control over the school bus.

The door opened and you hop up the steps, the screams even louder now that you were inside.

It was absolutely unhinged.

I can do better. You thought, taking a quick glance to find a seat.

"Hurry up and sit down brat.", the bus driver yelled.

"Quiet before I cut you open.", you said to them without missing a beat and walked towards the back of the bus.

You were calm as the other children were acting like drug addicts.

One was bold enough to try and trip you with their leg out. Looking at them, you see that they have a cocky grin.

"Can you please move your leg? Its in the way.", you ask.

"No. Just go over it.", they laughed.

With a shrug you do just that, they try and lift their leg up higher to trip you but you jump at the last second and aim for their knee.

SNAP

They scream like bloody murder as they cry, grabbing the attention of the other children. All eyes are on you and the broken leg that's spewing out blood.

"I did ask nicely.", you say before continuing on your way to the open seat in the back.

Finally, you arrive at the school and find your classroom, now you were standing next to the teacher as your new classmates make a mess with paper planes and other items.

"Everyone SHUT UP! This is the new student.", the teacher Ms. Mayberry introduces you to the class. "Go on and say hello, then take the empty seat over in the middle."

You nod and smile as you face the children.

"Don't cross me or you might end up like Mikey!", you say cheerfully and go sit down.

Stage two: Assert dominance and be kind to those who are kind to you. *weed out any snakes*

.

Alastor got ready to pick up his little demon.

I wonder if they had fun. He thought before leaving the hotel.

On his way over, he picked up some pastries from their favorite bakery. Now the Radio Demon was just a few feet away from the gate that had a few lingering children, that's where he saw his little one waiting with the teacher who was smoking.

They spotted him and lit up.

"Alastor!", they cheered before running up.

The teacher had backed up a bit after noticing who he was.

"Good afternoon mon petite!", he said and picked them up. "Did you have a good time? Hm? Were there any pests?"

"I took care of it! But all of them went home alive.", they replied as he began walking back to the hotel. "Bye Ms. Mayberry!", they waved to their teacher.

They had started to tell him what happened on the school bus as they got closer to the hotel, that is when the deer demon reminded them to look sad.

"I don't think I can keep a straight face but I can still cry like I'm sad.", the little demon said. "I know what to do."

They hid their face on his shoulder and started shaking their shoulders, making convincing sniffles and sobs.

Alastor opened the hotel doors, finding the princess and her partner, one of them holding a cupcake.

"Oh no, what happened?", Charlie asked after noticing the little demon's shaking shoulders.

"There was a bully that harassed them today.", he answered and made his way over to the stairs, lifting up the bakery box. "I've already bought them sweets to cheer them up but you can leave the cupcake for dessert after dinner."

Once in the hotel room, he sets them down and put the box of sweets on the small table near the door.

"Wash your hands before getting your sweets.", he says before helping them take off their school bag.

"Ok!", they nod and run over to the bathroom.

Taking the box, the demon in red snaps his fingers to conjure some plates on the coffee table. He sets up the table before putting the pastries on the plates. Making sure to get their favorite cup for their drink.

They went to their room before coming back out with no coat and taking a seat on the couch.

"Now, tell me all about your day.", he said giving them a plate with a slice of cranberry pomegranate curd tart. "What kind of drink would you like with your sweets?"

They ask for their favorite drink and proceed to tell him about what happened after the "tripping" incident.

The deer demon prepares a cup of coffee while getting their drink.

"Some of the kids tried to act tough and pick a fight with me during reeses. The supervisors don't care if there's a fight as long as no one gets killed.", they said before taking a bite of the tart. "I broke a lot of bones today.", they add.

"Don't speak while chewing dear.", Alastor hands them a napkin, placing their cup next to their plate before sitting down.

They go into detail of all the injuries they caused with a wide smile. Telling him that they want to learn more tactics of intimidation to scare some of the staff.

"Finish your homework and I'll take you out so you can have hands on experience.", he says and sips his coffee.

"Really!?", they ask excited.

"Of course! Its the best way to learn."

After dinner (and their desert), they headed out and found a demon to test on.

"The best way to intimidate someone is through fear. Give them something that will always remind others not to try anything. Breaking the boy's leg was good, but remember that it is on school grounds that you cannot kill.", he says as both of them watch the test demon scream as they are being taken apart limb by limb. "Of course you have my permission to kill anyone that tries to kill or kidnap you. Or other terrible things.."

"Can I torture them a little bit?", they ask.

"Yes, but don't let your guard down.", the Radio Demon says, using the tendrils to rip the test demon's head off. "Remember mon petite, prey can bite back."

On the way back to the hotel, he got them a new plush, a small mouse to attach to their school bag.

"Mr. Squeaks."

Tehe.

~Seline, the person.

Extra: Dessert image

Extra EXTRA: Art

Taglist@

@willowaudreykeyes @kiraisastay @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @scary-noodlesblog @naelys-the-aster @ducky-died-inside @biromanticboba @roo-bi @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @+?

ML for Alastor🎙

#alastor and child reader #platonic #gn reader #x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon #child reader #demon child reader #fanfic #mrs mayberry #helluva boss #tw blood #blood and gore #mention of kidnapping #mention of torture #give them a damn trophy for that #fake crying #food mention #cranberry pomegranate curd tart #alastor & reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader

[cambion-companion]

could you do smutty wedding night (aemond and reader marry for love 😊) and it's of course her first time and he's super sweet and worried

I may have outdone myself with this one.

Man, you guys just flood me with amazing ideas! I decided to finally write my take on a first night with Aemond after getting married. And added some tickle and playfighting in there because he would absolutely initiate that to make his new wife feel more at ease.

Aemond x fem!reader | virginity loss | playfighting | SMUT | 18+ only

Smoke and leather.

That's what your lover smelled like, his long silken hair tangled around your searching fingers as you buried your nose in the crook of his neck.

You could hardly remember the events of the wedding; it was all a blur of laughter and color...and anticipation.

Anticipation of this moment. Escaping to your newly designated rooms, kicking the door open, fumbling to undress, too busy wrapped up in each other to care about a ripped dress or knotted hair.

You were now the wife of Aemond Targaryen. The man you had fallen for as quick as a stone drops to the bottom of a pond. He was yours, and you were his. He seemed intent on proving how much you belonged to him, especially now as he nipped at your bottom lip, pushing his tongue rather aggressively into your mouth the better to taste you.

You groaned into him, fisting your hands in his hair, pulling his harder against you as he unlaced the last fastenings that held your dress to your body. It fell in pool of white velvet around your legs, you stumbled over it, Aemond catching you and bringing you upright once more, pressed flush against him, the thin fabric of your undergarments the only barrier between your flesh and his.

Your pebbled nipples brushed Aemond's chest, he palmed a breast in his large hand, his other hand caressing the bare skin of your waist, dipping underneath the waistband of your smallclothes.

You broke the kiss, pulling away slightly, suddenly shy. Aemond tipped your downcast chin up with a long finger, his lilac eye dilated as he studied your expression. "Do you wish to wait?" He was always so in tune with your emotions, and you knew he was terrified of scaring you away.

"No, Aemond, I just...need a moment to breathe."

He nodded, standing still, allowing you to take in his half-naked form. He was a specimen; tall and straight, his lilac eye glittering from the firelight, shimmering silver hair fell down his back and over his shoulders, the eyepatch hiding the sapphire you knew to be underneath. The planes of his chest and torso were lightly muscled, defined, accentuating his lithe figure.

Aemond's eye was also roving your body. He licked his lips, the straining in his trousers evidence he liked what he saw. Aemond took a few steps toward you, closing the distance. He reached out slowly. "May I?" You nodded, and his fingers found the dip of your waist once more, tickling your sensitive skin.

You flinched away from his touch, giggling at the sensation. His eye widened momentarily, before a mischievous smile tugged his curved lips. "My wife is ticklish, is she? What a fascinating discovery."

"Don't abuse your newfound knowledge!"

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Even now you could see the intent on his face, his muscles tensing like a cat about to pounce on his prey. You squealed, trying to escape toward the bed but Aemond was too quick. He caught you, spinning you around and began to tickle you mercilessly upon your ribs and under your arms.

"Aemond!" You cried, laughing helplessly as you wriggled to free yourself from his clutches. "Aemond please!"

"Not quite how I imagined you would say those words, but I'm not complaining." Aemond chuckled, guiding you to the carpeted floor as your legs gave out.

The fur of the rug brushed against your back as you continued writhing, now pinned by Aemond's body pressed atop your own, making escape impossible, his hair brushing against your throat and chest adding to the overwhelming sensations.

All at once Aemond stilled, the torturous tickling stopped, and in its absence, you became keenly aware of his breath mingling with your own, the proximity of his lips, the way his hands gripped your hips.

"Aemond." Your voice was quiet now, barely a whisper.

But he heard.

Aemond tilted his head, his hair brushing your throat as you swallowed.

Your mouth was dry.

Your reached up, tracing Aemond's angular jaw with light fingers. Brushing the pads of your digits along the vertical scar, hooking them under his eyepatch and slowly pulling it off. The sapphire sparkled down at you, contrasting in loveliness with his purple eye. You continued touching him, trying to convey even an ounce of the adoration you felt for your betrothed...no, your husband.

"Y/N." Your name on his tongue sounded like the most ardent of prayers. "Tell me what you want."

Every inch of his body was pleading for you to acquiesce; to let him take you, claim you as his.

He waited, breathless.

"I want you, Aemond."

That was all he needed to hear. Aemond's lips were on yours once more, the heady feeling of him surrounding you, drinking you down as though you were ichor of the gods.

"Spread your legs for me."

He didn't have to ask twice, you immediately obeyed, feeling deliciously vulnerable as you opened to him.

Aemond made quick work of removing the last of your clothing, the cool air brushing over your intimate areas. You watched as Aemond sat up just enough to shed his trousers, freeing his hard member with a relieved groan.

You hooked your legs around his trim waist, wiggling slightly to position yourself for him to enter.

"You're not ready for me yet, my darling." Aemond moved off you, disentangling himself from your limbs.

He grinned in self-satisfaction as you made a mewl of discontent, quickly overcome by a moan of pleasure when his fingers found your aching cunt.

"Oh." You breathed, arching your back against the furs below, utterly disarmed by the bliss his fingers brought as they stroked your silken folds, circling your swollen bud.

"Look at me, my ember." Aemond coaxed, his voice as soft as the crackling fire. "I want to watch as you come undone on my hand."

You moaned his name, straining to touch any part of him as he sat above you, just out of reach. Aemond noticed, interlocking the fingers of his free hand with your own.

"How many fingers can you take, I wonder?" His eye flicked from your face to where his hand was working you.

You gasped as he pushed his middle finger slowly into you, unable to keep your hips from rocking against him.

"Gods. You are so tight." Aemond whispered, almost to himself. "You're going to feel so good around my cock."

Your brow furrowed as Aemond carefully pushed in another finger, pumping them into your heat, lewd wet sounds filling the room. Your cunt spasmed, the beginnings of climax already coursing through you.

"I want to feel you surrounding me when you cum." His gaze found your face once more as he removed his fingers from you. "I think you're ready."

"Please." You whimpered. "I need you inside me."

Aemond groaned, the tip of his cock already leaking precum as he knelt between your legs, pushing them open wider as he lined himself to your entrance.

"Relax, my love." Aemond watched your face for any signs of discomfort as he began pressing into your soft flesh. "Tell me if it's too much."

He was big.

You had never before experienced penetration apart from your own experimental fingers.

You raised your head to watch him enter you, his cock slowly disappearing as he pushed deeper. As aroused and ready as you were, there was still discomfort as your walls stretched to accommodate Aemond's girth.

Aemond's lips parted, his hooded eye never leaving your own. The look of bliss on his handsome face was enough to send another wave of arousal pooling in your core as he fully sheathed his cock within your soaking warmth.

He leaned over you, his chest brushing yours. Your hands came to rest atop his hips, holding him still. "Give me a moment, please."

Aemond bit his lower lip, nodding, his hair collecting in a silver pool on your skin as he kissed you. "Whenever you're ready."

It took only a few moments for you to adjust, you moved your hips underneath him to signal your desire for him to begin.

Aemond kissed you again, his breath filling your lungs as he pulled out almost all the way before pressing back into you in a fluid movement. You moaned loudly, thankful for the heavy stone walls muffling your cries of pleasure.

"Y/N." Aemond groaned, continuing to stroke languidly into you, his eye fluttering closed for a moment. "You're impossibly tight. I'm not-" Another little gasp escaped his lips. "I'm not going to last long."

His hips stuttered as your walls clenched, your legs wrapping around his trim waist, pressing the heels of your feet against his ass, trying to guide him deeper. "Aemond, please, a little faster."

Aemond took your mouth in his again, drinking down your moans as he rocked into you, setting a quicker pace, the sound of his flesh slapping against your own filled your ears, the musky scent of sex permeating the warm air as the two of you neared your climax.

"Do you feel any pain?" Aemond asked, his lips still brushing your mouth.

"No." You murmured, nipping his bottom lip. "I just feel you."

Aemond pressed his forehead against yours, rutting even harder into your heat, the wet sounds of your lovemaking growing louder as your orgasm began to take hold. You felt as though you were climbing into the very stars, your vision going white as your eyes rolled back. Aemond's teeth grazed your throat as you arched your neck, pressing your head back against the soft fur rug.

"Y/N!" You heard, as though from a great distance, Aemond saying your name over and again, his voice mingling with your own as you called for him to release himself deep within your quivering quim.

The force of your climax dragged Aemond over the edge and he slammed into you, spilling his hot seed, biting down upon your shoulder as your cunt milked him.

"Take all of me." He whispered, guiding your legs up until they pressed against your shaking chest.

Your vision refocused enough to watch as Aemond pumped into you several more times, remaining buried hilt deep until he felt satisfied his release would not spill as he pulled slowly out.

You felt bereft as Aemond's member left you, slick from your juices, his gaze upon your sex as he continued holding your legs aloft. You felt a drop of his cum begin to leak from your folds but before Aemond could react you reached down, scooping up the escaping seed and pressing it back into your warmth.

"Such a good girl." Aemond's voice was husky, his manhood already becoming hard once more. "Can you take any more?"

You brought your wet finger to your mouth, holding Aemond's gaze as you sucked the digit. "Yes."

The night had long turned to the early hours of the morning by the time he was finished with you. The both of you tangled in each other's arms, thoroughly spent. You had found your way to the bed eventually, only after Aemond had taken you upon the sofa and the dresser.

He had shown you an entirely different meaning to the term "dragon riding" and it was not without soreness you awoke the next day.

The sun shone brightly through the windows, Aemond's strong arms still wrapped around your waist, his head now pillowed by your bosom, the silver of his hair shining from where it fanned out over your bare skin.

He stirred as you stretched, opening his lilac eye and propping himself up on his arm, gazing down at you with tender adoration.

"Good morning." Aemond traced the shape of your lips with a finger before kissing you. "Or...good afternoon by the looks of it." He pulled back to measure your expression. "How do you feel?"

You had to take a moment to come up with the right word for what you were feeling. "Complete." You said at last, earning a smile from your husband.

"Allow me to indulge myself for a moment." He moved closer to you, knocking your knees apart as he pulled you flush to him by your waist.

You didn't resist, hooking your leg over his waist as you felt his ready cock now so familiar prodding at the junction of your thighs.

"Have you not been indulging yourself all night, my dragon?" You teased, your smirk disappearing as he slid inside you once again.

"I will never have my fill." Aemond kissed you sloppily, sleep still weighing upon both your minds even as he seated himself entirely within your cunt.

The stretching sensation that bordered on unpleasant last night now felt familiar and right, as though Aemond had been molded specifically for you. You moved slightly, getting more comfortable, expecting Aemond to begin fucking you into the mattress but he remained still, savoring your warmth.

You wrapped your arms around him as he nuzzled against your chest, wrapping his lips around your nipple and sucking gently. You groaned, trying to move your hips but Aemond stopped you. "Let us just be still in this moment, Y/N."

Understanding dawned and with it a new emotion altogether different from the passion of the previous night. You carded your fingers through Aemond's argent hair, savoring the feeling of his mouth and tongue on your breast, his cock warm within your walls.

Your heart swelled; this intimate show of unconditional trust was a gift from your silver prince. He was the moon of your life, the man in whom you had found home.

Your one-eyed dragon.

Your ultimate protector and advocate.

His heart belonged to you, and you would guard it with your life.

Aemond's breathing slowed.

Your own eyes, though wet from the sudden stirring of emotion, grew heavy once more. The exhaustion from the night before still weighing on your tired muscles.

Sleep took you in a dreamless embrace. You felt the warmth of Aemond surrounding you, filling you. His familiar scent and his head resting atop your chest guided you into a slumber more peaceful than any you could remember experiencing.

You were home.

#aemond smut #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond oneshot #hotd x reader #hotd aemond x reader #prince aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond fanfic #aemond imagine #aemond drabble #aemond fluff #hotd aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond one eye #aemond one eye x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond fanfiction #prince aemond #aemond stannies #pro aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen scenarios #aemond targaryen smut #aemond fic

[universalitgirlsblog2]

🧼✨️GLOW UP GUIDE🧼✨️

🧼PHYSICAL GLOW UP

This is inspired from Glow up blueprint video by Dear peachie. Dear peachie will help you to achieve the ultimate physical glow up

.First of all, get to know your features. People who have facial features with accurate facial proportions , stronger symmetry ,brighter colours , defined lines look better in the static image whereas disproportionate facial ratio , poor symmetry , dull complexion , uneven structures can affect how one looks in static image.

Look at the glow up pyramid. Every level is interrelated to each other and is equally important . The elements at each level serves as the foundation which steps towards a higher level. The overall aspects may get affected if insufficient attention are given to fundamental levels.

Celebrities always appear gorgeous and sophiscated because they play attention they have invested a fortune and massive efforts in the detail that ordinary people never thought of.

There is a Chinese sayings which says one can recognize a beauty from 10 meters away. From a 10 meters distance, we cannot see the beauty looks like , her facial features and make up is blurry. However , we can see her body shape , posture , hair , clothing style. If we maintain 2 to 5 meter social distance , the focus point is skin , face shape and overall proportions. Body type , posture , clothing , hair , skin , face shape and overall proportion forms the impression of the body.

( A) Skin

- maintain a balanced diet

- good quality of sleep.

- stay hydrated lol ( common advice but it works )

- avoid smoking and eating too much sugary foods.

- Build a skin care routine which suits you the best.

- Visit a dermatologist regularly.

- Rub ice on face

- Do facial yoga

- Less is more

- The most simple way - just affirm that you have clear skin .

( B ) Body

- Workout !

- Maintain a healthy diet , don't starve yourself please !

- We can enhance our body proportions by wearing clothes which suit our body type.

- Love your body , don't abuse it by starving yourself or criticising it.

( C ) Posture

- You can do exercises to get a good posture.

- Try to maintain a good posture even if you are doing your daily tasks.

- Walk with a good posture , you will appear more graceful and elegant.

(D) Hairstyle

- Hairstyle is a great way to express oneself. You can choose different hairstyles which suit you.

- Healthy and beautiful hair can enhance your appearance so give some time to yourself and do hair care .

- A suitable hairstyle can draw visual attention towards your best features. For example : Long face framing bangs reduce impression of high cheek bones.

( E ) Body shapes

- Get to know your body type and dress up according to your body type.

👛🧁I didn't go into details , dear peachie has made videos for topics like posture, body shapes , hairstyles etc. I will make notes on those too . Those posts will be more detailed and in depth👛🧁

MORE TIPS BY MOI !

- Try mewing, you will get high cheekbones and sharp jawline.

- Get regular trims and hair scalp treatments.

- Yoga is so beneficial for both physical and mental health.

- Accessories to spice up your outfits !

- Develop a good fashion sense , you can take inspiration from celebrities too .

- Apply Vaseline on eye lashes .

- If you want to appear taller and slimmer, then wear high waist jeans and crop tops . ( This tip may vary from one body shape to another )

✨️MENTAL GLOW UP

- DEVELOP SELF - LOVE. Be disciplined. Care for yourself . Cherish yourself. Love yourself no matter what.

- Listen to Guided Meditations and Podcasts

- Adopt the " OK and ? " or " So what? " mentality . They were talking behind your back , OK and ? They don't like you , OK and ? You tried something new and failed , So what ? They left you on seen and ghosted you , So what ?

- Adopt the " You are You , I am me " mentality.

- Listen to the wizard liz , Tam Kaur , Simone or Alessia.

- Watch good content. You are what you consume. You have control over it. Don't watch videos which are full of drama and negativity . Watch productive and educational videos.

- Meditate ! You will become more mindful and self- aware.

- Become selfish! No , don't use people for your own benefit but put yourself first. Posts you should read to understand it better ! - click me , click me !!

- STOP BEING A VICTIM ! YOU ARE THE CREATOR OF YOUR REALITY !!! YOU CONTROL YOUR REALITY , NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND !!!!

- Don't seek validation from others , don't listen to other's opinions . Others opinions are irrelevant.

- Watch documentaries. Read books .

- Cut off toxic people ! This is so important. If someone drains you , puts you down , always nitpicking or complaining about you or other things . Distance yourself. It doesn't matter if you know them in real life or if it's online friendship. It doesn't matter if you knew them for a decade .

- You don't need to share everything with your Close friends.

- Say affirmations out aloud while doing skin care infront of mirror or in your mind.

- Act like the person you want to become.

- Don't chase , attract

- Know you are the main character.

- Don't allow others to use you or treat you like a doormat.

- Be more organized.

- Don't compare yourself with others.

- Don't depend on others for your happiness .

- Journal.

- Try shadow work

- Have hobbies

🍥ACADEMIC GLOW- UP

-Being intelligent is hot. Prioritize your education.

- Find a reason to study. Do you want to top your exams ? Do you want to make your parents proud ? Do you want to be the smart kid ?

- Find a role model . It can be a fictional character or celebrity . Check this post to find some inspiration - click me !

- Your reason to study should be bigger than your distractions.

- Watch fayefilms and studyquill , they always have the best study tips.

-Teach your friends , family or even pet . You will be able to revise the concepts better. If you get stuck while explaining , you would know that the topic is not clear to you yet.

- Use Mnemonics

- You can use the SQ3R method. SURVEY. QUESTION. READ . RECITE . REVIEW.

- Romanticize being smart. Romanticize studying.

I hope this post helps you too - click me !

#self concept #affirmations #law of assumption #it girl #master manifestor #self concept affirmations #affirm and persist #assume and persist #glow up #self love #self care #self esteem #self discipline #self worth #academic glow up #physical glow up #the wizard liz #wonyoungism #song jia #girlblog #girlbloss #girlblogging #femmefatale #it girl mentality #bae suzy #confidence #self confidence #dream life #appearance changes

[illicitvalentines]

something stupid !

⋆ ˚ ౨ৎ 。james potter x gn!reader

OF WHICH... james has always adored your sweet heart and gentle ways and feels nothing more than obligated to tell you how much he loves you, even if he isn't completely sober enough to tell you

CONTAINS: FLUFF, modern au, established relationship, lovesick!james, drunk!james saying love for the first time 😶, mentions of drinking, flirting, kissing, cute stuff

NOTES: inspired by ' something stupid ' covered by frank sinatra ! i hope y'all like it i'm low-key terrified ( wc : 1.1k words !! )

JAMES WASN’T SURE whether it was the liquor on his tongue or the sense of love he was drunk on, but his feelings inside felt that they were to spew out of him at any moment now. Though his eyelids were wearing heavier by the minute, it was the drink in his hand that had now sunken in the residue of ice which lay on the bottom of the glass, that had kept him from leaving the party from being purely wearisome. 

That and your wandering eye from the other side of the room.  

Your obvious loss in trance was growing more evident to your two friends, Lily and Mary, as their nudges and callings of your name had failed to gain your attention – that instead, was entirely on the brunette boy.

James shared a small smile from his position on the couch, which was teeming with lovesick couples and their blatant attraction to one another; that populated the party with loudmouthed discussions and bursts of laughter – acting as redundant ambiance to James' approaching headache. 

Pardoning yourself quickly from your two friends – who both smirked before promptly making conversation with themselves once more – you began to weave through the moving bodies of the crowd and gradually ended up beside him.

His hair was now messier than when you both first stepped into the party, for the mousse that you had used to hold his unruly curls back had failed to maintain the look; with a few loose locks falling out to frame his gentle face. 

“Hey angel,” James responded, slurring his words from lack of soberness, the sides of his mouth perked up into a toothy grin that consumed his entire face. Holding your warm hand to his cheek, and picking up the spirits on his lips, you whispered; 

“Hi Jamie,” you smiled sincerely, taking his glass out of his hand and placing it on the coffee table, “Have you had a bit to drink?”. 

Not having it in him to respond verbally, James only shook his head. You laughed softly – causing James’ smile to somehow widen even further. To him you looked angelic, often depicting your smile as one that would wash heavenliness through your presence; entirely a sight for sore eyes. 

“Weren’t you with Sirius and Remus for a bit? Where did they end up going off too?”. 

“Not sure, said they’d be back but they aren’t.” he murmured, “Probably out in the yard smoking or making out, one of the two.” Your chuckle back triggered your gentle hands to make their way from his cheeks into his palms as you stood up to pull him away from the couch – now being towered over by your boyfriend. 

“Do you perhaps want to head home?” 

“That I’d love to.”  

The sound of your footsteps became the only noise emitted in your apartment, a complete contrast from the party James had left his favourite jacket and any remaining soberness at, as he staggered a few steps behind you.

You removed your interlocked hand from James’ to set your keys down on the kitchen bench only to find the taller boy wrapping his arms around your waist and peppering light kisses into the crook of your neck, slowly moving up towards your jaw and eventually cheeks.

“James, please at least sit yourself down first.” you cooed, him humming in agreement whilst moving sluggishly to your couch and falling back onto the pillows that dressed up the comforting frame. 

Watching you silently as you moved across the apartment, James was ultimately heart-struck, completely infatuated by you. The way you moved across the room with such care and flow, wanting not to make any loud noises as not to add to James’ now present headache; the way you would hum softly after putting on your favourite music; the way you would hold his head in both your hands once you finally sat down quietly beside him. 

“I like it like this. Just the two of us.” he mumbled, causing a smile to partner your demeanour and soften your eyes. 

“I do too.” 

Your eyes both couldn’t leave the others, the only noise in the apartment being the sweet hum of your music playing, filling in the blanks of the lack of speech between the two of you. The muteness wasn’t awkward, instead contrastingly comfortable as you two lay in each other's silence.

Kissing your nose and forehead lovingly, James picked up on what he stopped at the kitchen bench, littering sweet kisses over your entire face that scrunched with the light touch. Your sweet laughter complimenting the peppering pecks of his love for you. 

The moment to James was perfect, the only trouble being his lack of control of himself with you, especially when you looked at him in such a gentle way. Knowing it wasn’t the alcohol taking over, or the intoxicating scent of your fragrance, but the bittersweet feeling that had hung in his stomach much before the two of you had entered your apartment, before you left the party together, and long before your eyes had met with him on the other side of the room. 

In fact, in the three months you had been dating for, James had subconsciously known he loved you in the mere few moments upon meeting at a party much alike the one you had come from. He was unsure of what had come over him, but it was too late before what was holding up in his insides came spewing out. 

“I love you y/n”.   

Your laughter came to a blunt end as your eyes widened slightly upon the words that had just escaped James’ mouth. In complete fear that he had ruined the moment James’ eyes began to reflect a similar fright to yours, completely changing in a mere few seconds as you had decided to disrupt him by meeting his lips with yours. 

It was a passionate yet slow kiss, one that would hold all the words you were meaning to say but didn’t know how to pronounce. Cupping your face in his hands, he tasted sweet from both the amount of drinks he allowed himself to get lost in at the party, and the overall loveliness that James Potter contained.

Though you definitely couldn’t complain, you pulled back reluctantly, noticing his lips being slightly puffier and parted. You whispered under your breath.

"James you're drunk." 

"I don't think I've ever been more sober in my life." he smirked, "Y/n, I told you I love you, you heard me didn’t you?” 

“Oh I know, I just want to hear you say it again." you giggled softly before continuing, "I love you too Jamie.” 

His heart ached with pure admiration as you two got lost in the moment and let time find you once more.

LIA'S LETTERS ⋆ ˚ ౨ৎ 。 to my lovely reader, thank you so much for reading this really shitty piece of writing ! this barely followed the song but oh well i hope the ending wasn't too bad either 😭 but i genuinely do hope you enjoyed and this wasn't too ooc for james; i love him lots and definitely hope i did him justice

like, comment and reblog if you wish !! ( they're very much appreciated 💗 )

#lia's writing 𖦹 ⋆ . #౨ৎ — james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter x fem!reader fluff #the marauders era #james potter x shy!reader #modern au #james potter drabble #james potter x gn!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter angst #james potter fanfiction #james fleamont potter #marauders #marauders era #james potter modern!au #james potter #rugby!james potter x reader #drummer!james potter x reader

[lovingmattysposts]

You don't know me 3

P1 P2 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12 P13 P14 P15 P16 P17 P18 P19 P20 P21 P22 P23 P24 P25 P26 P27 P28 P29 P30 P31 P32

pairing: y/n and chris sturniolo

summary: you and chris came from two different sides of the spectrum when it came to the social scale. You had the perfect life, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect parents, but when you start to peal back that layers things got messy. Your life was set and stone, your future was set and stone. That was until he comes and changes everything.

warnings: mentions of a toxic household, smoking

I looked up from the napkin to the house in front of me. It was about a ten minute walk from my house. I walked out without telling my parents where I was going. Not that they would necessarily care either way. Thank God that Max was at hockey practice. I sighed.

The house was small. A one story house with half dead, half alive, bushes that lined the front. The mailbox was broken and there was a porch on the front with railing. The broken mailbox read '1126 Evangeline St', matching the napkin.

The sun was starting to set, but it wasn't dark yet. I hated this time of year, when the sun set before 6 o'clock. Yet I loved the sunset. An internal battle. I should probably stop standing in front of the house and walk up to it. I took a deep breath before walking up to the house, walking up the steps. I let out a breath as I stood in front of the front door. Here we go, now or never. Time to clear my name for good. I raised my hand to knock and-

"You're early"

I jumped lowering my hand and placing it on my chest. I looked and saw Chris sitting in a chair on the other side of the porch. I dropped my head, trying to regain my pulse. I held up a hand. "Please stop doing that" I said looking up at him.

This wasn't the first time he's giving me an absolute heart attack by making his presence known. He didn't smile he just looked off towards the sunsetting. He was smoking, again. But it didn't look like a cigarette, I couldn't tell what it was.

I walked up to him slowly. He looked up at me before taking another hit of whatever he was holding. "It's 4:58 princess, I told you after 5" He said not looking at me. I furrowed my eyebrows before looking down at my watch. It was 4:58. Shit does that make me look weird? I looked up at him.

"Shit sorry" I said shaking my head. He shook his head. "No you're just gonna do what you want anyway, don't know why I tried" He said still not looking at me. I let out a sigh. Alright Chris. Enough with the shots.

"Okay I'm only gonna say this once, so listen-" I started but he cut me off. "Smoke?" He asked bringing his hand up to my face. I squinted at it. "No thanks" I said pushing his hand away from me. He shrugged. "Suit yourself" He said taking another hit. I just looked at him. I bit my lip tapping my foot, just get this out Y/n. Get this over with. "Look I-" I started again but was interrupted again.

"So do you only smoke cigarettes? I hope I didn't start an addiction. It's deadly you know" He said looking up at me. I glared down at him. I was tired of this. I didn't come here for him to treat me like this. I clenched my jaw as I looked down at him.

"No" I said though gritted teeth. He looked up at me. "So you do smoke other things?" He asked looking up at me. I felt anger start to rise in me. "I don't smoke cigarettes" I said looking at him. He looked up at me before setting down the thing he was holding onto a tray in front of him and standing up. I looked up at him. I stepped back slightly intimated by him.

"But you do though" He said tilting his head at me. I glared up at him. "Don't-" I started. Chris cut me off. "Because you smoked one the other night" He said smiling down at me. My blood was boiling.

"I-"

"Did your boyfriend taste the smoke on your lips?" He asked smiling sarcastically down at me. I tapped my foot, looking up at him. Staring into him. I felt my cheeks go red. He stepped toward me. I didn't move back. I just continued to glare up at him. I felt my teeth grind against each other. "Hm?" He hummed. I opened my mouth to say something.

"Or did he taste....something else?" He trailed off. I felt a grip form in my hands. He's asking to be punched right now. The way he's looking at me. The smiling demeanor. Just to piss me off. My lips formed a straight line. "Or....Someone else?" He asked looking down at me. I pushed him back violently. He just looked down at me.

"Listen!" I yelled pointing at him. He just looked at me raising his eyebrows at me. His smile dropping. I lowered my hand. This isn't me. I sighed. "I'm....sorry" I breathed, letting the anger go. His eyebrows furrowed. I shook my head. "You probably think I'm horrible" I said shaking my head. He tilted his head smiling and shrugged. I smiled and shook my head.

"I just don't even know if you would believe me if I told you the story" I said honestly looking up at him. He pursed his lips and shrugged. He turned and sat back down so I was standing in front of him. I looked down at him. He motioned for me to continue. I bit my lip and looked down.

"My boyfriend, Max, you know him" I said looking at him. He hummed closing his eyes and nodded. I bit back a smile, shaking my head. God, I shouldn't be smiling this much. I dropped my smile. I breathed getting ready to continue.

"I walked back into the party and I thought I saw him kissing another girl" I said looking at him. His eyebrows furrowed. "You thought?" He asked raising his eyebrows. I sighed starting to walk back and forth. "His shirt" I started. Chris was attempting to follow along but he looked confused. "His shirt, I thought it was blue when it was white. Long story short, it wasn't him" I said stopping and shaking my head. He hummed.

"But I didn't know that until after I had already kissed you" I said motioning to him. He nodded. "Right" He said looking at me with narrowed eyes.

"But I thought it was him and I was pissed and I didn't know what to do, I was so angry and I just wanted revenge. And you were so-" I said getting carried away. I stopped and looked at him. He looked at me raising his eyebrows. My face turned red.

"There" I breathed finishing my sentence. He hummed. "I was so...there. Right" He said nodded, laughing slightly. "Exactly! And I...." I said sighing. "Am so sorry" I said shaking my head. He just looked at me.

"I love my boyfriend. I mean were perfect for each other. He's great. I mean he's....nice and he loves me and I love him and I thought he cheated on me but he would never cheat on me so I don't even know why I thought that in the first place and I am such a horrible person because I totally cheated on him and I don't know what I was thinking because I'm totally not like that at all, I don't want you to think that I'm some slut who goes around kissing random boys when she has a boyfriend I mean I would have never have dreamed myself to cheat on Max, I love Max, but I was angry, and I kissed you, and I liked it which makes the whole situation so much worse and makes me feel so much worse and then I totally kissed you and then walked out with my boyfriend and I couldn't even look at you I was so ashamed and I probably look like exactly what you think I am when I'm totally the opposite I just sometimes get caught up in everything and I just needed to get this off my chest, I am so sorry." I breathed.

He just stared at me. Blinking at me. He leaned up clearing his throat. "Are you done?" He asked quietly. I sighed. "Yeah" I said looking at him. He nodded. I waiting for his response but it never came. He bent down reaching for the thing he was smoking. He took a hit.

"Now will you please take a hit of this, you're stressing me out" He said blowing out the smoke and lifting up to me again. I looked down at it, my heart still erratically beating from that confessional. I looked down at it and back up at him. "What is it?" I breathed.

"It'll make you calm the fuck down" He laughed. I looked down at it. He waved it back and forth. I reached down and took it out of his hands before bringing it up to my lips and inhaling. I took it back and started exhaling but immediately started coughing. Chris groaned standing up. I kept coughing, over and over.

"Jesus Christ" He groaned as I coughed. He handed me a water bottle which I took before drinking it. I swallowed and stopped coughing. Chris shook his head as walked past me to sit on the steps of the porch. I just looked at him. He looked over at me, waving me over and patting the seat next to him. I walked over sitting next to him.

"Thanks" I said handing him the water bottle. He took it and placed it next to him. We both just looked out onto the road. It had gotten a little darker. I could hear crickets chirping and the sounds of nature. It was peaceful over here. Unlike my house. All you could hear are the sound of cars or my parents arguing.

"When you inhale, you're suppose to hold it in for a second before exhaling" He said looking over at me. I just looked at him. He looked down at the thing in my hand before motioning me to give it to him. I handed it over before he took a hit and breathed it in. He held it for a few seconds before blowing it out.

"See" He said handing it back to me. I took it and looked down at it before bringing it up to my lips again, matching his motions. I blew it out and didn't cough. He smiled and nodded. I smiled back at him.

"Your boyfriend is not nice by the way" He said looking at me. I furrowed my eyebrows at him. "You said he was nice" He said mention back to my confessional. I just looked at him. He shook his head. "He is not nice" He said looking off. I looked down at my hand, pulling my bottom lip in between my teeth.

"I am really sorry about what happened" I said again. "Stop apologizing you're ruining my high" He said smiling. I smiled and looked down. I sighed. "I hate to ask this, but do you think you could just not tell anyone about what happened between us?" I asked looking over at him. He didn't look at me.

"I just don't want it to get back to Max" I said shaking my head. He was quiet for a moment, before finally speaking. "I wasn't going to say anything Y/n" He said looking at me. I smiled. "Thank you Chris" I said back. Suddenly I realized something. I turned to him.

"How do you know my name? I never told you" I said looking at him. He rolled his eyes and looked at me. "Stop pretending to be humble, Labraut" He said shaking his head. Oh, right. Labraut. I forgot people who don't even know me, know me. I smiled and shook my head.

"Right" I laughed looking down. I cleared my throat feeling his presence more right now than ever for some reason. His knees were close to touching mine. I needed to stop thinking about it but I couldn't. I reached wrapping my arms around my knees to keep our from touching.

"Do you think you could talk to Nate? Tell him not to say saying? Even though he hates me" I asked quietly looking over at him. His face was focused on the road in front of us still. He pursed his lips. "Nate's not going to say anything" He said suddenly not looking at me. I just looked at him. He glanced over at me.

"How do you know?" I asked, trying not to be annoying, but the anxiety of it was eating me alive.  He looked over at me and smiled slightly. "Because I do" He said looking at me. I smiled and shook my head looking down.

Why is Chris so Chris? There's this confidence about him. I feel like he's never second guessed anything he's ever done in his entire life, and if he messes up, he looks like he meant to do it. I wish I could have half of his confidence. I second guess everything. I think almost every decision I've ever made has had consequences.

"How do you know your friend isn't going to say anything?" He said looking at me. I furrowed my eyebrows and looked up at him. "Sydney?" I asked looking at him. He nodded. I shook my head. "Because I just-" I stopped looking at him. He smiled and raised his eyebrows. "Do" I finished understand why now Nate wouldn't say anything either. They are our best friends. They wouldn't put the other in jeopardy.

"Right" I laughed looking at him. He smiled and shook his head. "Nate doesn't hate you" He said looking over at me. I looked over at him and raised my eyebrows. He smiled. "Okay maybe he doesn't necessarily like you, but he doesn't hate you" He said smiling. I rolled my eyes.

"Why?" I asked him. He pursed his lips. "For the same reason I didn't either about 20 minutes ago" He said looking at me. I nodded. "But I can't promise that he's going to start liking you after he knows the reasoning behind why you did what you did" He breathed. I sighed. "I can't win" I said smiling shaking my head. He rolled his eyes.

I lifted up the thing in my hand taking another longer hit. I think this thing is working. My hearts not beating anymore. I'm...almost calm. "Okay, Okay, let's not get you too high for your first time" Chris said taking it out of my hand and setting it down. I rolled my eyes as I blew out the smoke.

"I'm starting to think you're a bad influence on me and I've only know you a couple days" I said shaking my head at him. He nodded. "Oh I definitely am, you're on the wrong side of town princess" He said looking down at me. God, I wish he would stop calling me that in the wrong moments. I can't contain my face after he does. My face fails me and I turn red, shaking my head. I just hope to God he doesn't notice.

Chris looked up towards the road. "Did you walk here?" He asked suddenly, taking the focus off my reaction, thank God. I nodded. He looked over at me with a confused look. I looked up at him and back down at my hands. Here comes the questions.

"I'm surprised you didn't have a personalize driver bring you" He said. I rolled my eyes. "Enough with the rich people shots please" I said looking over at him, smiling. He shrugged. "It's too easy" He smiled. I rolled my eyes shaking my head. I leaned my head on my arm, as I looked out onto the road.

"My parents bought me my dream car at sixteen" I said not looking at him. He didn't say anything. He just listened as I spoke for a second. "A baby blue Mercedes, with white leather interior with a killer sound system and red stitching" I sighed looking up towards the sky, then at him. He just looked forward. I loved that car so much.

"I remember waking up on my birthday and my parents coming in my room, telling me they had a surprise for me out in the driveway" I sighed remembering the day so clearly in my head. I shook my head. "I went out saw the car and I was so excited" I smiled. Chris looked over at me. I looked up at him, licking my lips.

"It was a stick shift" I said shaking my head. His eyebrows furrowed. I leaned back as I told the story. "I can't drive stick shift. My parents can't drive stick shift, none of their workers can drive stick shift" I explained. I scoffed remembering the memory that tells you everything you need to know about my bullshit parents. I looked up at Chris.

"Do you know how hard it was to find a baby blue Mercedes that was a stick shift?" I chuckled looking up at him. He just looked at me. "Took them 2 years to find" I said looking down at my hands. I shook my head.

"Wow" He breathed. I looked up at him. "Your life is so hard" He smiled at me. I shook my head looking away from him. Sometimes he didn't know when to give me some slack. I felt tears start to brim at my eyes. "You don't get it Chris. The story wasn't about the fucking car" I said looking down.

"My parents did it out of spite of me" I said sighing. "They have some internal hatred towards me, because I was suppose to be a boy. Someone to take over the family business and the last name. When I came out a girl they couldn't stand it. They never wanted anything to do with me. I have been nannied my whole life, even though my mom doesn't even work. They talk about it in front of me. How they wished so badly I was a boy." I said feeling tears start to pool in the corner of my eyes.

"When I told them I couldn't drive the car, even though they already knew that, they called me ungrateful. A spoiled brat who didn't deserve a car in the first place" I said swallowing the lump in my throat. Chris was silent next to me. I bit my lip.

"Instead of getting rid of the car. They parked it in the garage next to the door that I have to walk through everyday, just to taunt me. "There's your dream car collecting dust because we intentionally bought a car we knew you couldn't drive"" I said shaking my head. I still didn't look up at Chris, because I felt a tear start to run down my face, silently.

"I remember when I was six, wishing so badly I was a boy so that my parents would pay an ounce of attention to me" I said sighing. "I cut my hair short. I made my nanny of the month drive me to the mall so I could pick out a bunch of boy clothes. I wore them everyday for about a year" I laughed lightly reaching up and wiping the stray tear. I swallowed, trying to contain myself. I shook my head.

"It didn't work. They treated me the same" I shrugged. Silence fell between us. I sat up and sighed, wiping my eyes. I didn't mean to get so emotional in front of him. I was embarrassed that I just spilled out my entire childhood out to him. He sighed next to me. He looked over at me, but I didn't look at him.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry" He said quietly. I shook my head, waving him off. I looked at him, forcing a smile. "I understood once I was a teenager. I stopped trying to win them over. Just accepted the divide between us. I was never going to be a boy and they were never going to appreciate me for who I was, there wasn't a need to try to change anything about myself" I said shaking my head. He just looked at me sadly.

"I just wish I would have rebelled or something" I sighed. "Done something crazy to piss them off. Like shave my head or get a huge tattoo or something" I laughed. He smiled softly. I shook my head. "But by the time I wanted to do that, I met Max" I said. Chris still just looked at me.

"Which threw that idea out of the window" I said shaking my head. I looked over at Chris. "I don't think a guy like Max would date someone with a shaved head or a tattoo" I said smiling at him. He laughed and shook his head.

"What tattoo would you get?" He asked quietly. I pursed my lips thinking about it. I smiled and looked at him. "I would get a bunch of tiny stars on my shoulder" I said smiling. He smiled and tilted his head, not really understand. "I feel like when I look up at the stars, they are the only things that make sense. They never really change, just move around, but they are always the same. They are something bigger than my life, my problems. They bring me peace that something else is out there" I said looking at the small stars that were forming from the sunsetting.

Chris was quiet next to me. My eyes widened when I realized that I totally overshared. I looked at him before standing up and wiping my hands off on my jeans. He just looked up at me as I stood. "I'm sorry, I don't really know why I just told you all of that" I said shaking my head looking down at him. My face started to turn red. God, I'm so embarrassing. Why did I do that? He doesn't care. He stood up quickly looking at me.

"No, it's okay. I understand. I'm sorry" He said looking at me. I sighed as I stepped down on the step, tumbling over slightly and placing my hand on the railing to catch myself. He jumped forward, placing one hand on my waist to steady me. I just looked up at him. He smiled down at me.

"Are you okay?" He laughed whispering. I looked down at my feet, then back up at him. He smiled down at me. "Are you high?" He laughed. I closed my eyes, laughing. I leaned forward resting my head on his shoulder, looking down for a second giggling to myself. I looked back up at him and nodded. He shook his head smiling at me. I lifted my other arm and looked down at his hand that had not yet left my waist.

"Sorry" He quickly said lifting his hand off me. I looked at him arm. I grabbing his arm and looked at it, turning it around. Tattoos lined the back of his arm that I had never noticed before. "You have tattoos" I stated examining his arm. He had a rose and a dagger on the back of his arm and an arrow that pointed towards his elbow. He laughed lightly. "I do" He breathed.

"That's so cool" I breathed looking at them. I traced my nailed over one, causing him to twitch slightly. I lifted my hand and dropped his arm looking at him. "Sorry" I whispered. He looked at me with a surprised expression before clearing his throat. "No, you're okay" He said quietly. I just looked at him for a second. He looked down at me.

God his eyes. The way he was looking at me. His gaze. I can feel it throughout my entire body. I didn't know if it was because it was him or if it was because I was high. I swallowed, blinking up at him. "To be fair" He breathed. I just looked at him. "I think you're kind of cool as a girl" He said smiling at me. I smiled. He thought I was cool? No one has ever called me cool. Maybe stuck up, annoying, entitled, rich-bitch, cool is a new one.

"Thank you Chris" I smiled. He nodded. I turned around looking at the road, then back at Chris. "I should go" I said looking at him. He nodded slowly. I smiled, stepping off the steps. He walked down the steps with me. I looked over at him. He slid his hands in his pockets and looked at me.

"I'm not letting you walk home by yourself in the dark, high." He laughed. I laughed and nodded. He smiled as we started to walk down the street. He walked next to me. We were silent for a few minutes. Honestly my mind was racing, I was thinking about so many things. I looked over at him.

"You know what would be really good right now?" I asked as we walked. He looked over at me smirking, raising his eyebrows. My pulse quickened as he looked at me. My lips on yours. No, no, Y/n, No. I just blinked at him for a second. "What? Stop looking at me like that" He laughed looking at me. I swallowed losing my trail of thought. I can't look at the goddamn lip ring for an another second. The words in my mind were so much louder when I was high.

Chris is right there

Chris's lips are right there

You could stop walking right now and pin him up against that street light and feel what you felt the other night.

Feel him pressed against you again.

Hear his noises against your lips as you tugged on his hair.

Feel the way his tongue moved in your mouth.

All you have to do is stop walking.

My feet froze. I stopped walking. He stopped when he realized I stopped. He turned around and looked at me. I swallowed. My heart was beating out of my chest as he looked at me. "What would be good right now?" He asked smiling shaking his head at me. Fuck. I swallowed. No Y/n. Boyfriend. Max. Dating. I shook my head.

"A cigarette" I smiled. He threw his head back and walked up to me grabbing my wrist. "Keep walking Labraut" He said as he dragged me with him. I smiled as I walked with him. He let go of my wrist and I felt it through my entire body.

Why don't I feel that with Max when he touched me? It's because I'm high. Your emotions are just intensified. I have to think about something else. I have to start a conversation so that I don't grab his arm and pull him against me and kiss him like no one ever has before.

"So uh" I coughed. He looked over at me. "What are your parents like? Do you like them?" I asked looking at my feet as I walked. Just trying to make sure I didn't trip. Silence fell between us. The only sounds heard were the sound of our feet hitting the pavement as we walked.

I looked up at him after a few seconds when he didn't respond. He wasn't looking at me. He was just looking forward as if I never asked him a question in the first place. I looked back down, accepting that I probably wasn't going to get an answer.

That was okay. It was kind of personal question, maybe I shouldn't have asked it. If someone asked me that I probably wouldn't straight up answer either.

"I don't know. I haven't talked to them in a while" He finally said catching me off guard. I looked at him. He looked at me, with an unreadable expression. I nodded, looking forward. "Do you get along?" I asked before my mouth could catch up with my brain.

He obviously doesn't want to talk about it Y/n. I shook my head. "Sorry I-" I started to say but I cut myself off. Bite your damn tongue Y/n. You never know when to shut the hell up. My brain screamed at me.

"No" He said after a few seconds.

I just looked at my feet. I started to turn onto a road. I felt him grab my arm, pulling me back over to him. "That's not the way to your house" He said smiling down at me. I looked onto the road I attempted to turn onto. It wasn't, he was right. I smiled and shook my head.

"Right" I laughed. He smiled and shook my head. "Do I need to hold your hand?" He joked. Please. I just looked at him. He glanced down at me and I quickly averted my eyes to my shoes. He shook his head and hummed.

The tension in the air was thick. My stomach was hurting. I needed to get home, soon. I can't stand to be around him another second or I might drop to my knees. I felt his hand trail down my arm and then down to my hand, interlocking out fingers.

I stared down at our hands. I looked up at him, but he stared forward with a straight face. Is it hot outside? Is it the streetlights heating up my entire body right now? Chris dragged me down the road to my house, not dropping my hand.

We didn't speak the rest of the time that we walked. It wasn't long before we were walking up to my house. I finally cleared my throat looking up at my house.

"Follow me" I said pulling me with me towards the backyard. My backyard we beautiful. It had a garden. It was big with a pool. There was a tree that was right next to the balcony attached to my room. There were steps on the tree that I used to climb off my balcony when I was little. I used that more than the entrance to my own house, just to avoid my parents.

"Wow" Chris said looking at my backyard. I nodded and turned towards him. He let go of my hand and slid his into his pocket. "That's my room" I said pointing up towards the balcony. He looked up and nodded. He looked over to the tree with the planks nailed into them. He pointed at them and looked at me smiling.

"I hate walking past that damn car" I laughed looking down. He laughed with me. I looked up at my room then back down at him. God I didn't want to leave. I didn't want him to walk away knowing this might be the last time we interact. We live to completely different lives. We roll with different crowds on the opposite ends of the spectrum. There should be no reason that we ever came in contact again. We shouldn't, at least.

"Thank you for walking me home, I don't think I would have made it home without you" I laughed. He shook his head smiling. He smiled down at me. "I appreciate you opening up to me about your family" He whispered. I looked down and bit my lip. "I'm not going to tell anyone Y/n" He whispered. I looked up and smiled slightly. "Thank you Chris" I breathed. He nodded.

"It makes me think you're almost human" He smiled. I pushed him slightly. He laughed. I sighed. It was dark outside, I had to go inside soon. I looked around before looking back at him. "Friends?" I asked holding out my hand. There should be no reason to see him again Y/n. My mind yelled at me.

He licked his lips and took his lip ring into his mouth. You're kidding. I just looked at him, my hand still extended now slightly shaking. He looked down at me. I looked up at him, silently begging him to just shake my hand. Air, thick. Lungs, shrinking. Heart, beating.

God, I needed to breathe soon or I might suffocate.

I swallowed as he looked down at me, with that stupid look on his face. God this moonlight is horrible the way his shined on his face made me think it was illegal. The damn lip ring. He looked down at my hand before reaching up and grabbing it. He looked down at our hands, my hand now limp in his as I stared up at him. I hope he couldn't see how much his presence was effecting me.

"Why is your hand shaking Y/n?" He asked quietly but didn't ask it as a question, more of a statement as he looked down at me. A small smile on his face. This fucking boy. I swallowed. I stepped forward slightly, not that there was much room in between us anyway. He didn't move back, he just watched me.

In this moment I thought his face was sculpted by God himself. He raised his eyebrows. He dipped his head down slowly to mine. My heart was beating, faster and faster. I could feel his breath on my face, and I'm sure he could feel mine from the way I was breathing. He looked down at my lips. I started to flutter my eyes close when I felt him firmly shake my hand that was between us.

"Friends, Princess" He said dropping my hand and leaning back, stepping back from me. I snapped my eyes open and looked at him. My face turned red and let out a breath, nodding. "Friends" I breathed. He smiled and turned around starting to walk away.

"Get some sleep stoner" He said as he walked away. I smiled and shook my head. He turned around and smiled at me before walking out of my sight. I looked down and put my hands on my face, groaning. What was I doing?

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#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader

[flametrashiraarchive]

Hi! Me again lol. If we're limited to how much we can ask you don't have to answer. I was wondering if you could do Giyuu x Y/N who was also a hashira but after the final battle. They're finally able to be together and months later find out they're expecting. It can be SFW or NSFW. If you're not comfortable with this I totally understand.

-☀️

Yes! Happy endings ftw. 

I thought it would be cute to have this be part of the bathhouse pieces just for the sake of a throwaway joke, but this reader is specifically AFAB so please ignore it if that's not for you. It's the Bathing with Giyuu Multiverse.

I’m really sorry it doesn’t really include the pregnancy part (I alluded to it but they’re really difficult for me to write about sometimes) but I hope the love between Giyuu and you makes up for it. 

This piece does contain slight spoilers for the end of the Demon Slayer manga so be warned! (spoilers from here on out!) 

Also, I refuse to accept that the thing with the mark and how much time he has left is canon. It’s too sad so it doesn’t happen. You and Giyuu are gonna grow old together. 

I hope you like it!!

AFTERMATH

Giyuu Tomioka x F!reader. NSFW.

Memories of your fallen comrades haunt you long after the rubble is cleared away. Nightmares of what befell those you care about wake you when you finally do manage to drift off. The scent of battle lingers on your skin for weeks. Smoke, blood, and death. No matter how many times you've tried to wash it off it clings to you. 

Which is why you find yourself traipsing to the onsen in the darkness, your katana still grasped firmly in your hand, because you still can't quite believe that it's over. The battle is won, and the world is safe. 

You can relax in the onsen completely safe and completely alone– 

"You're kidding me?!"

Giyuu stares at you, half submerged in the steaming water, his expression one of wide-eyed surprise. But once he sees it's you, his face softens again. "Ah… is it time for our annual awkward bath together?"

You laugh for the first time in days. Giyuu has always been a little less guarded around you, but since the fight ended, he has been far more open. He's funny. Peace looks good on him.

"Do you mind if I get in?" You ask, "It's not like we haven't seen everything already."

He shakes his head. "I don't mind. We've been through hell and back together, this is nothing."

"Yeah…"

"Should I turn around?" he asks.

Oh Giyuu. Even after everything you’ve been through together; the battles, the quiet moments, the nights you spent together early on where you promised it was just once to get it out of your systems, and the times later when you both agreed you could die at any moment so why the hell not. Even after all that, he’s still a perfect and slightly awkward gentleman. 

Your breath shivers as you slip off your yukata in answer and those deep blue eyes of his drink you in. 

He stands, gazing up at you with his lips slightly parted. It'll take some time to get used to the sight of him without his right arm, and no doubt it'll take him even longer than that. But he's alive. You both made it. You survived. 

He wades toward you and offers you his hand, helping you step down into the water. His eyes never leave you. Yours never leave him. And you both just stand there, the water only up to your hip, laid bare before each other in this newly peaceful world.

You no longer smell smoke, blood, or death. Giyuu’s scent is soft, clean rain, washing over you and carrying the horrors away.

His smile is so soft and serene your heart aches.

A muscle in his cheek flexes before he speaks. "I didn't lose you," he says, as though the fact is only just sinking in, as if he'd mourned you even before the battle had even begun and is only just allowing himself to believe you’re really there, that you really survived. 

It’s a feeling you know well. 

A slow smile lifts his lips, his eyes meeting yours, his sapphire gaze filled with unending tenderness. You reach up to caress his cheek and melt as he closes his eyes and leans into your touch. 

"We made it, Giyuu."

"We did," he says, his voice so quiet and calm. "I should have told you this before the battle, but I was afraid to because I thought telling you would mean you wouldn't make it. Like I’d put a curse on you or something. And if you don't feel the same–"

"I love you."

His eyes widen a little, but soften a heartbeat later. He chuckles. "Yeah… yeah, you took the words out of my mouth." 

"I've wanted to tell you that for the longest time."

"Me too.' He dips his chin, pressing his forehead to yours as a quiet laugh of relief emerges from him. With your heart fluttering, you close your eyes and just enjoy the sensation, and the quiet intimacy of being loved by Giyuu.

His lips hover so close to yours, gentle breaths fanning over your skin. Your heart aches with need for him as you tilt your face toward him to bring your lips closer.

He closes the gap, his kiss as light as gossamer, sending your heart into a frenzy. The kiss is so gentle it's almost painful, the fluttering in your chest more than you can bear. It shivers through every fiber of your body, more potent than any breathing technique as every cell in your body seems to sigh his name. 

Giyuu. You're alive. We made it, and we can finally let ourselves love.

Little by little, the kiss deepens until Giyuu's tongue is caressing yours. His lips are soft and oh-so gentle, stirring up the butterflies in your belly. You open your eyes, seeking reassurance that this isn’t all just some dream. The intimate sight of him causes your heart to leap; his eyes are closed, his pretty dark lashes resting on his pink-dusted cheeks, so peaceful in that moment you can’t believe this is the same world which demanded so much sacrifice. 

He skates his hand down to the curve of your lower back, gently pulling you closer until your bodies are flush with each other. The rise and fall of his chest staggers against yours as you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him, bathed in moonlight and the rising steam of the onsen. And though the battle only took place in one tiny pocket of the world, it feels as though you are clinging to each other among the wreckage, even here surrounded by serenity.

As much as you crave each other, you take your time and love one another slowly, washing each other with all the tenderness the world couldn’t spare you until now. You sit with your back to him as he washes your hair, his fingers deftly moving over your scalp, making goosebumps pebble along your thighs. He bows his head and weaves a cloak of kisses across your back and shoulders, making sure not to leave a single inch of you feeling unloved.

And then, when you’ve both washed away what you needed to, he takes your hand and leads you back to his home; a big, empty house waiting to be filled with the family and the love he never even allowed himself to believe he could have. The comforting scent of him lingers in the house and you feel as though you never want to leave. He doesn’t want you to go either. 

Moonlight shines through the windows, casting silver light over the pair of you as you lie together in Giyuu’s bed, lost once more in tender kisses. The relief and love, the guilt of survival, the way your mind can’t quite slip fully out of fight mode… It’s overwhelming. He notices the moment your tears start to fall. 

“Love… it’s okay,” he whispers, stroking them away with his thumb and you know he understands completely.

“We’re allowed to be happy, aren’t we?”

He smiles softly, and nods. “Yeah… we are.”

His breath is hot against your skin as he trails kisses over your jaw, down your throat, and to your chest. When his lips reach the top of your breast he pauses, lays down his head and closes his eyes, listening to your heart’s rhythm and your breathing with a quiet sigh. You know this will go on for a while; that no matter how often you reassure each other that this is real, that you both made it, that it’s okay for you to love each other, some part of you both will always question.

Because since when has the world ever been this kind?

“Can I love you forever?” he asks softly. “Is that okay?”

Your fingers thread through his soft black hair as he kisses down your stomach. “Please, Giyuu… please do.”

He brings you simple solace with the wet heat of his mouth. He settles between your thighs, eyes closed, lapping at your tender flesh with his fingers interlaced with yours. Soft and slow and so loving your heart can barely take it. He tastes every inch of you, drawing comfort from your sighs and the way you gasp his name. A groan emerges from him as you bear down on his tongue, grinding yourself against his gentle mouth. And only then does he quicken his pace, giving you what you need to drive you over the edge and plunging into ecstasy.

You can’t help but laugh a little as he raises his head to gaze at you. Giyuu always has the haziest, prettiest expression when he’s drunk on your pussy, and the war hasn’t changed that one bit. His cheeks are flushed pink, his lips glossy with your slick arousal. 

He gets back onto the bed, lying face-to-face beside you and guides your thigh over his waist, angling his hips so he can enter you. He sets a languid rhythm, kissing you the entire time, his cock only entering you halfway so he can make it last as long as possible. He fought through hell to be here with you and he’s going to make sure he cherishes every second.

“You’re… so wet…” he gasps against your lips.

You try to bite back a grin and fail. “Yeah. That’s what happens when you fuck the water hashira.”

Giyuu’s composure breaks and he laughs–really laughs–resting his forehead against your chest. “I love you.”

Gods, what a world this is; that you get to love him, that you have the luxury of time to stop and laugh together in the middle of sex. Giyuu has such an adorably boyish laugh too; one which crinkles his nose and shakes his shoulders. It’s a sound you want to hear a billion times more over the course of your life and a sight you will never tire of.

“I love you too, Giyuu. I always will.”

He’s still chuckling until he rolls you onto your back and presses himself deeper, wiping the smiles from both your faces as pleasure drowns out your amusement. The delicious stretch pulls a groan from you, and when he starts to roll his hips you can’t help but cry out. The control he has over his body is breathtaking, and the loss of his arm doesn’t hinder him at all as he has you wrap your legs around his waist and fucks you hard and deep, filling the room with the lewd symphony of slapping flesh and your wanton cries.

Every time before, he has pulled out of you, both of you unwilling to bring a child into the world when each tomorrow was so precarious. But now he presses deeper, his eyes alight with new possibility, and love like he never allowed himself to believe in. He groans as he fills you, resting his head between your breasts and listening to the thundering rhythm of your heart as you wrap your arms around him and hold him through his orgasm. 

And then you lie together in the aftermath; just you and Giyuu at the end and the beginning of it all.

#giyuu x y/n #demon slayer giyuu #giyuu smut #kimetsu giyuu #giyuu tomioka #giyuu x reader #kny giyuu #demon slayer tomioka #kimetsu no yaiba tomioka #tomioka x y/n #tomioka giyū #tomioka giyu x reader #kny tomioka #tomioka giyuu #giyuu fluff #tomioka fluff #Giyuu fanfic #tomioka fanfic #giyu x y/n #giyu x reader #giyu x you

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello my sweet angel babies! Thank you all for the love and kind words! Here is another chapter, now there are going to be two perspectives in this, so when you get to the end, you will see what I am talking about hehe. Enjoy ! <3

Chapter 87: The Other Woman

Days float by as your anger continued to simmer.

Your visits to the Gardens became frequent, irritated energy bouncing through your body, leaving your nights to be restless. And yet to your surprise, Aegon was nowhere to be seen.

You had thought that with his sudden dismissal of his brother to Harrenhal at the news of your pregnancy, that he would make himself present. 

And yet, he hadn't. 

And when Aemond had returned a few short days later to the Red Keep, you had been just as surprised once more. 

Was this a test? 

The two brothers working in tandem to see what you would do?

Or was Aemond's visit truly shortened by his desire to come back to you?

When Aemond arrived back to Kings Landing, his demeanour had shifted once again. He walked around you carefully, chose his words with even more care, and had even refrained from touching you. It was as though he was waiting for you to make the first move. Or maybe he was waiting to you to strike him.

Or perhaps the Prince was waiting for you to respond to the letter you had not read.

When the Prince had returned, you had been seated at the Gardens, nibbling upon a honey drizzled slice of pear, the sweet nectar coating your mouth thickly as you gazed out at the water, concentrating hard to see if you could see any speck of Dragonstone or Driftmark. 

A large shadow moved across the water, and you had craned your head to look up, spotting your husbands large, green, war dragon flying atop the Keep. Her mossy wings, torn in some places, and a deep scar along her side shining in the sun, curtesy of Syndor.

Your resentment bubbled at the sight of his return, and you suddenly felt no desire to continue munching upon the many sweets and treats that your maids had insisted upon giving you. You stood, dusting the crumbs that had settled into your lap onto the stone floor and moved with little haste, knowing that Aemond would most likely seek you out as soon as he landed.

You let yourself begin to walk down towards the beach of Kings Landing, brushing your fingertips atop the many different flowers that you passed. It was not until you came across the fragrant rose bushes that you paused in thought. 

Reaching forward, you grasped a large, blooming, blood-red rose, and snapped it from the bush, bringing it up to your nose to inhale deeply. It was a beautiful colour, and from the exact same bush that Aegon had plucked one for you from. 

You smirked.

You continued on your walk, winding down the path until you reached the stone jetty, finding yourself standing deathly still, rose in hand, as you looked out at the water.

You were waiting for the inevitable.

Waiting for him.

For your shadow.

To come seek you out. To speak to you. To see you.

To beg. To plead. To apologise.

Or perhaps, punish you for your temper.

It was not until you heard soft, steady steps behind you, that you knew he had come, just as you had anticipated. 

Aemond had come to straight to you. 

Not to his King. Not the the Lords. Nor the Small Council. Not even to your shared chambers to disrobe. 

The One-Eyed Prince came straight to you from the back of his dragon.

Bringing the rose to your nose, you inhaled again deeply, and hummed. With a cool breath, your voice flitted towards him, not bothering to turn around.

“Didn’t expect to have you back so soon, Aegon. What did Otto want with you?” And with your last word, you spun, rose still raised up to your face to look at your husband that you knew was behind you.

At the sight of him, you dropped the rose limply to your side, “Oh. Aemond.” You sniffed, “You’re back.” 

His brows were already furrowed, “What did Aegon want with you?”

Those were the first words from his lips.

His first words after coming back from his whore.

You saw red. 

Gritting your teeth you spun away, moving to walk back up the path to the Keep and away from the steady rolling waves of the beach. 

“How was the Whore of Harrenhal?” You snipped, taking the steps in lazy strides, unhurried to get away from him as you twirled the rose in view as you passed.

Aemond’s eye flicked to the flower, then back at your face, his jaw tensed.

You continued up on your path, letting your uncle stew in the possibility of you and his brother having spent time together in his absence. The possibility of Aegon courting you with another rose.

And whilst you had expected it, the Prince did not follow you.

Instead, he stayed rooted in his spot at the bottom of the stairs, watching as you slowly walked up them, singular red rose in hand that you brought intermittently up to your nose to smell.

Aemond found you a while later in the Library, clearly desperate to speak to you, his own insecurities about his brother racing in his mind.

He found you seated on one of the armchairs before the fire, tome in lap with the rose tucked behind your ear. The red atop your hair stood out starkly, and brought out the subtle blush of your lips that you nibbled on gently. 

To Aemond, you looked as though you were engrossed in the story, or perhaps your mind was wondering to a certain older uncle as your fingers danced over the long, thorned stem. His approach did not rouse your gaze, for you knew it was him, choosing to ignore his presence all together.

The One-Eyed Prince stood in front of you, his height doubled yours, as you sat primly in the chair. The air in the Library was tense, and you played upon it, a finger tracing the petals of the flower absentmindedly as you continued to ignore him. 

“Y/n.” Aemond spoke lowly, trying to gage your attention, “I didn’t see her. I attended to my duties, and that was all.”

You hummed boredly, before lifting your gaze to him, the Prince’s jaw locked, hand on the pummel of his sword as he looked at you. You let your gaze drop pointedly at the hand, and to your surprise, he released it, dropping his arm down by his side.

“Aemond.” You sighed, standing, shutting the book in your hands as you stepped forward towards him. You thrust the book against his chest, “I don’t believe you.” 

His hand came to grasp the book, ‘The Loves of Queen Nymeria’, as you brushed past him, making your exit from the library as swiftly as possible. Not hearing his footsteps behind you. 

You found your way to the Godswood, where you always found yourself in troubling times, still holding the rose in your hand as you looked up through its branches. 

You hoped that your parents received the raven.

And even prayed to the Gods that they did. 

What would happened?

Would it be done?

Would she be killed?

How would you know if it had happened?

What if they didn’t get your raven?

You swallowed and sat amongst the roots as you always did, needing to clear your mind, your back against the trunk of the tree as you looked up at the light that shone through the leaves. The tree vibrated with the wind, and in that moment, and as through the wind swept away your doubts, you knew they had gotten your raven.

When the sun had begun to lower in the sky, you took yourself back to your chambers, knowing that your husband would be there waiting, and you would have little place to run.

He would talk to you, and you would listen. 

For a time. 

Aemond was just as you had expected him to be, a creature of habit, sitting in his armchair before the fire, goblet of wine in hand. When you entered the chambers, his head had lazily turned to look at you, eye grazing up and down your body before pausing on the rose you held in your hands. You moved across the chambers and placed it on the small table beside your bed, sighing. 

With contagious irritation, you moved to the side of the room and poured yourself a goblet of wine, sitting opposite Aemond on the chaise as you rose the cup to your lips, sipping the strong spiced red, anger simmering beneath your skin. 

Though, it seemed as though Aemond had bitten off his tongue, and the two of you sat in silence before the warmth of the fire, words unspoken, until the maids entered to light the candles of the chambers, and shortly after, bring your dinner.

You both moved to eat together, a tension filled silence engulfing the room. The quiet chewing and sipping was drowned out by the ever rising beat of your heart in your ears as you looked at him.

You were furious, and angry at the little part of yourself that was relieved to have him back.

Aemond placed his cutlery down onto his plate politely, sensing your heated gaze upon his face. How you wished you punch him in the side of his mouth. To dig your fingers into the cavity where his eye once sat. If only you ha-

“I did not see her.” His voice cut through the tension, and you swallowed thickly, placing your own cutlery atop your plate as you reached forward to grasp your wine. You took a gulping sip as you watched him from over the rim, waiting for him to undoubtedly continue. 

“Kīvin zijo va se Jaes Uēpys se se Sīkuda.” I swear it on the Old Gods and the Seven.

You huffed, taking the goblet from your lips, "Nyke jorepagon pōnta pryjagon ao ilagon syt aōha pirtra.” I pray they strike you down for your lies.

Aemond sneered, "Gaoman daor pirtir. Daor naejot ao. Dōrī naejot ao.” I do not lie. Not to you. Never to you.

You hummed, sipping again, “Pār īlon kessa ūndegon lo iksā pryjatan ilagon iā daor.” Then we shall see if you are struck down or not.

Aemond’s hand on the table twitched, “Kesan daor ūndegon zirȳla arlī, nyke teptan ao ñuha udir.” I will not see her again, I gave you my word.

You pressed the smile away from your lips with a frown. You nodded in agreement, picking up your cutlery again and moved to cut through a steaming piece of meat, dark gravy poured over the top, “Se kostan kivio ao, bona kesā daor.” And I can promise you, you won’t.

You will never see that whore or your bastard child again. 

And it will be because of me.

Aemond nodded, but not because he knew, which made you all the more smug, “Iksā ñuha ābrazȳrys, iksā emare ñuha riña. Ñuha jorrāelagon iksis syt ao, se ao mērī.” You are my wife, you are having my child. My love is for you, and you only.

You let out a bitter laugh, “Should have thought about that before you fucked a child into her, shouldn’t you?”

The Prince stayed silent and went back to his eating, cheek twitching with words to say, but none passed his lips.

"Has the bastard been born yet?" You hummed, stabbing another piece of meat and bringing it to your lips as you chewed, Aemond's gaze darkening.

"No."

"Then how would you know that if you had not seen her?" You blinked at the Prince, biting the inside of your cheeks.

"It would be hard to not notice a chil-"

"A bastard of silver hair in a place where Strong blood once resided. I often think on it," You cut another piece of meat with your knife and fork as you felt Aemond's eye burning a hole in your face, "Would the child look like you, or would it come out resembling a Strong boy."

Aemond did not speak, and so you continued, "For years, my brothers and I, despite my obvious parentage, faced the sharp whispers and gossip fuelled by your mother. Exacerbated by you. And now, you are to have another bastard of your own. And not one that you can easily pass off as Aegon's, if she is truly a Strong."

Resting your chin on your palm, you tilted your head looking at him, "Do you even know if Helaena's children are yours? Or at least one of them? I suspected the twins, but Maelor has Aegon's soft face." You paused, watching anger fall over his face, "I wonder if mine will have it."

Aemond's hands slammed on the table as he looked down at his plate, anger radiating off of him.

"Would it not be a cruel joke from the Gods for you to have sired the King's heirs, and he to have sired yours?"

"That child is mine." He growled.

"I suppose time will tell. The bastard certainly is."

"You mean to provoke me. I have performed my duty as well as I can."

"And yet, your whore is pregnant. Who's duty was that? Certainly not that of a Prince."

Silence moved across the table as he stared at you down his nose.

In disgust.

In anger.

In rage.

"I left you a letter." His voice was impatient, as though the piece of parchment would have explained all.

"What letter?" You cocked your head, feigning ignorance.

His brow was drawn, "I left it on the table."

You raised your eyebrows in mock remembrance, opening your mouth, "Oh." Aemond's face seemed, as though the letter would soothe your only rising resentment.

"I burnt it." You smiled at him widely, and resumed your eating.

Aemond's lips twitched as he looked at you, tongue pressing on the bottom of his lip in agitation.

"Sorry, was it something important?"

Aemond did not respond, hands tightening around his knife and fork, his eye narrowed.

You hummed, chewing a piece of potato slowly before you swallowed, "Anything of importance can surely be spoken to me, and not written down on some parchment like a child writes an apology to his mother."

Aemond tossed his knife and fork onto the table angrily, standing from his chair, hands in fists as he looked at you. You looked up at your uncle, and daintily placed your cutlery atop your plate.

"What are you going to do, Aemond? Hit me? When I am with child?" He blinked down at you, eye flickering to your stomach and back up at your face again, shoulders still tensed.

"I told you when you left, when you broke your word to me. I would never forgive you. You did this. Not me." Your hand pressed to your chest angrily, "I am owed this anger. The Gods will surely forgive me, but will they forgive you?"

Sorrow burrowed its way down your throat as anger crawled up it, you looked at him, and the two met in the middle. A thick and heavy stone that was lodged in your throat that you desperately tried to swallow.

Tears stung your eyes, and you watched as Aemond's anger simmered at the sight of it. Any response that was on the tip of his tongue was lost, and Aemond moved away from you to sit at the fire, singular eye staring into the flames, leaving you to sit at the table alone.

Before long, your meal was over, and your two maids came to clear the table, and ready you for bed, slipping a silk chemise over the top of your head, unbraiding your hair, and letting the thick waves cascade down your back.

Aemond had crawled into bed before you, and you had fluttered about the chambers, delaying the inevitable, and enjoying the way he shifted beneath the sheets watching you as he waited. 

When you went to bed, and settled beneath the sheets, you rolled and turned your back to him, tucking your hands beneath your chin as you fought the urge to not laugh. It was all too much. Too much anger. Too much joy. It got all twisted and mixed together, turning your chest alight. 

You could feel the heat of his gaze from behind you and chose to ignore it, closing your eyes as Aemond blew the remaining candles out beside your bed. The chambers were basked in darkness, and eventually Aemond rolled away from you in a huff. 

A grin peaked through on your lips, hidden in the dark, and soon you fell to sleep.

DRAGONSTONE POV

A few short hours away from the shores of Kings Landing, a raven had finally arrived to Dragonstone. The small, black corvid had made its way across the sea to deliver a message to the Queen.

Queen Rhaenyra had been in her chambers, robe wrapped tightly around her body as Daemon leant his head against the front of her stomach. The once Rogue Prince, seated on an armchair by the fire, his wife standing before him, carding gentle and soft hands through his silver white hair.

"Come to bed, my love." Rhaenyra whispered, hand cupping the older mans cheek.

Daemon lifted his head to look up at the woman he adored, her violet eyes glowing in the light of the fire. She was ethereal. Beautiful. And he loved her more than anything in the world.

His large hands came to grasp at her hips, pulling her forward and into his lap, Rhaenyra straddling her uncle on the large chair. Her hands came to the tops of his shoulders, before skimming up to cradle his face.

"The hour is late." She argued, with no true argument on her lips.

"I did not know there were certain hours in which I could love you." The man smirked, hands rubbing against the flesh of her hips.

As Rhaenyra smiled, she dipped her head to catch Daemon's lips, and a knock came at the door.

Both silver heads turned sharply.

It was late.

And there would be only one reason for such a disturbance.

The pair shared a look before Rhaenyra climbed off the King Consorts lap, moving quickly as she called out to the knight to enter.

Ser Erryk Cargyll pushed through the door, bowing and apologising for the intrusion, his helm off, light brown hair pulled back and away from his face. Daemon came to stand behind his wife, always behind or beside her, to show strength, to show unity.

To be there and support her.

As one.

"There was a raven." The pale hand of the knight moved forward, parchment in his open palm as he gave it to the Queen, who all but snatched it from him.

There was no seal, and the parchment was scrunched and bent. As Rhaenyra opened it, and Daemon moved to stand beside her, they read the short message from their daughter, the Queen's hands tightening on the page.

Rhaenyra stiffened, posture straightening as she looked at the knight before her, "Wake the Maester and the Lords. We have word from the Princess."

The knight bowed, swiftly slipping out of the chambers as Rhaenyra turned to face her husband, who's eyes glinted with a dangerous rage. She could feel the fury that curled around him, and she felt her own burn her just as hotly.

"Go," Came the steady voice of the Queen, her hands dropping to her side, parchment still in one tight fist.

Daemon tilted his head, silver hair shimmering in the chamber light, as though he was unsure of what his wife had said.

Before he could open his mouth to respond, the Queen spoke again, tone final, and anger crackling just beneath.

"Before the Council can talk me out of it."

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

@izzicle @ej-shitchats @may-machin @alegria1580 @witchy-jadda @videovampire @inkdelicious @queteimporta39 @virtualsweetsqueen @fo-cus @auratiqs @feyres-fireheart @queenofshinigamis @asoiafwh8re @teasandcrumpets @shesjustanothergeek @grungegrrrl@queenofsarcazm @marihoneywk @curlszx88 @virgogaia @loser-keiji @asoiafwh8re @whore-of-many-hot-men @vipervixxen @theonewiththeimaginaryboyfriends @watercolorskyy @lavendervisions @mazmack666 @chokefrog @orangejump-suit @nik2blog @serrhaewinin @ohemgeewhat @winxschester @cryptidsrcool @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @celestedonut @bloodyvelvet777 @iamapersonthatsalive @av-sos @yentroucnagol @sanzu-s @opheliaas-stuff @bellameshipper @maviee @persephonerinyes @neytiri-09 @ensnaredinwonderland @xbluegracex @sotragedynut @nattieot7 @shesawaywiththefairies-blog @coffedraven @prettycutebunny @celestedonut @the-jess-life @ssulfurr @out-of-life @madislayyy @crazylokonugget @cicaspair418 @katwmk @relminnie @milovart @teagrex @visenyaverse @bellameshipper @toodlesxcuddles @tempt-ress @dontmindmereading7 @qyburnsghost @55gyi53vtnquwziq5 @notnormalthings-blog @maidmerrymint @qyburnsghost @madislayyy @chelseaouat

Bold is who I cannot tag!

#aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond smut #hotd smut #dark!aemond targaryen x reader #dark!aemond x reader #dark!aemond targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #dark!aemond #dark!fic #fic #series #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond #smoke fire and ash

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Carpe Noctem 34/End

Warnings:��dark elements, noncon, age gap, gaslighting, manipulation, violence, blood, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (short!reader)

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

You sit in the idling car, holding your hands up to the heater as it blasts. You glance up at the house, anxious. Should you go check on him? Or maybe… you look at the keys. You can just drive away. Alone.

Too late for all that. Just as your mind wanders down the country roads, Lloyd appears in the doorway. He tramps across the porch and bounds down the steps, his shoes kicking up dirt as he struts towards the car. 

He opens the door and swings himself in with a grunt. His knuckles are purple and swollen, his upper sleeve stained with even more blood than before. You tut and reach to touch the reddened fabric.

“I’m fine,” he insists as he shrugs you off, “don’t worry, sweet cheeks, you’ll get your hands on me eventually.”

You recoil and roll your eyes. He adjusts the mirror and his eyes narrow past it. You follow him as smoke seeps out through the open doorway. You frown and reach for the car door. The locks clunk into place.

“Baby cakes, you got a big heart but those people don’t deserve your pity,” he shifts into gear and hits the gas, reversing with a sharp veer that has you pressed against the door. “We’re done here.”

“Wait, Lloyd, what did you do?”

“I saved your sweet ass. I’m not gonna lie and say it wasn’t imperative to me. Can’t let that jiggle go to waste, you know?” He snickers at the road as he steers away from the smoking country house.

You crane to see behind you, a glimmer of orange in the left window before you’re too far away to make out much of anything. You feel a tap on your thigh and sit straight as Lloyd’s hand rests there. He squeezes and gives a growl.

“Get your belt on, sweetheart,” he girds, “last thing I need is you flying through the windshield after I went to all that trouble.”

You gulp and click the belt into place. You can’t help but agree with that sentiment.

“Where are we going?” You ask.

He laughs again as he steers casually with one hand, his foot heavy on the pedal, “oh, you don’t have to worry about that.” He rubs your thigh, letting his hand slip between them, “we both just saw what happens when you take care of yourself, huh?” He squeezes and hums, “I’m not that soft dicked cop or that mummy’s boy farmer,” he taunts, “you belong with me, mimi… you belong to me.”

You stare at his hand then lift your eyes to the road. You peer over at the streaking landscape and shudder. Compared to the alternative, to Johnny or Cole, he’s not the worst you could do. Besides, with him, you don’t have much of a choice. You’re pretty sure you’re more than just a fling now, you’re an accessory to murder.

🌙

The adrenaline drains from you and has you slumped in your seat, snoring against the door as you forget the world whipping by you. You dream of the farmhouse and Beverly’s scissors. You awake with a start as the soothing motion slowly and you blink at the night.

Lloyd turns into a driveway, rolling up to the dark house. You grumble and shift in your seat, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. He shuts the car off and sits in the blackness.

“You awake, sugar tits?” He asks.

“Yeah,” you croak. “Where are we?”

“The only thing you needa know about where we are is that you’re safe. Stay close to me and you always will be.”

He undoes his seat belt and you do the same. He unlocks the doors and you let yourself out, stiffly standing as you rub your lower back. You turn to look at the neighbourhood lit with cones of light pouring from tall poles. You’ve never been here before. You must be far from home.

What home?

You follow Lloyd’s shadowy figure towards the front door. He stops to key a code into a number pad and it flashes green. He pushes inside and flips on the light. You shuffle in after him, rubbing the kink in your neck. He sighs and shuts the door as it locks automatically.

“Is… this your house?”

“One of many,” he intones, “didn’t I mention that before?”

You frown and peer around, “no…”

He chuckles, “no? Don’t know how that didn’t come up. I guess I didn’t take you for a gold digger.”

“I… I’m not,” you face him, appalled by the suggestion.

“Relax, I’m not saying you are, I’m just saying, you never asked.”

You clamp your lips and shake your head. He plants a hand on the wall and slips off his shoes, groaning as he wiggles his toes. You don’t have any shoes, your feet are cold and dirty. You stand on the mat, unsure of what comes next.

“So… what now?” You ask, “are we hiding?”

“Hiding? I told you, I got friends on the force,” he scoffs as he faces you and brings his hand up under your chin, “I’ll tell you what now. You’re gonna fix me up, the way you do, and I know it gets you all worked up, so after, we’re going to christen this place. Every single room.”

“Lloyd,” you utter as he backs you up to the wall.

“Well, we don’t need to do those in that order,” he purrs, “you can sit on my face first.”

Your eyes round and you tisk, “please.”

“Please… what? I’m all yours, mimi. Tell me what, and I’ll gladly lick it.”

“Must you?” You sneer.

“Which hole, mommy?” He teases.

You jab his ribs and he grunts, “I hate when you call me that.”

“Oh, I know, but I love it when you get mad,” he smirks. “Mimi,” his tone deepens and his expression turns dire, “I don’t think you get it. You don’t understand what you do to me.”

You arch a brow and tilt your head defiantly, “no, you don’t understand everything you’ve done to me.”

“Christ sakes, I just massacred a family for you,” he growls as he steps closer, leaning in to hover his lips over yours, “can’t you see I’m fucking crazy for you?”

You search his eyes for what, you don’t know. You know he’s nuts, he doesn’t have to tell you that. He also doesn’t have to say that you’re stuck with him because of that very affliction. Honestly, he’s close to tolerable when he doesn’t say anything at all.

He pulls you to him, smothering any resistance you might muster. He kisses you greedily, holding you against him, wrapping you up in his arms. He has you locked in; trapped in his grasp and his house and his life.

The bristle of his mustache tickles your nose, a symptom of his very being, the one little thing that ruins the moment.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #drabble #carpe noctem #series #au #the club #the gray man

[augustvandyne]

Hey! Could you do fluff John Nolan and wife reader where she visit the station and everyone just awed at her beauty? Maybe someone try to flirt with her. You decide how it end. Tag me later. Thanks!

first time writing for nolan 😜

lmk how i did!

nolan’s wife

You were way too beautiful to be John Nolan’s wife, is the first thing that comes to mind to all the officers when you introduce yourself.

Lucy and Jackson knew Nolan was with someone, because he always shot down anyone that came onto him everywhere they went. Whether it be the hospital, a call, the bar, anywhere.

But they didn’t know that that woman was his wife, nor that she was that gorgeous!

And I mean everyone, even Tim Bradford, was checking her out as she made her way towards the rookie.

“John,” You said in a silky voice, slightly fixing his tie.

“Y/n,” John smiles down at you, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips.

That was the only downside of your husband—his height. He was so tall, and it wasn’t that you were short, it was just that he was so tall! Even in high heels you couldn’t match his height or anywhere near it.

“Oh, my god,” Lucy sped over to the two of you, her hair pulled back into a low bun. “You are gorgeous!”

“Thank you?” You pull back slightly from John, giving him some personal space.

“I have to say, you are beautiful,” Jackson says, his hands resting on his belt.

“Who’s this smoke show?” Smitty walks over, raising his brows and flashing a smile. “Wanna go out tonight?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to pass,” You nod awkwardly, holding your hand out to let him see your ring. “I’m married.”

“To who? I could take him,” Smitty assures you.

“To me. She’s my wife,” John asserts dominance, which has Smitty backing up a few steps.

“Alright, slow down cowboy,” Smitty puts his hands up, walking back to his desk.

Lucy laughs, shaking her head.

“Hey, we were just about to head out for lunch, wanna join us?” Jackson asks nicely.

“Oo, yes!” Lucy jumps excitedly. “Please, please, please come!”

“I mean, if it’s okay with you,” You turn towards John, looking up at him sweetly.

“Of course, oh, I’d love for you to go,” John puts his large hands on the sides of your head, leaving a kiss on the top of your head.

“So it’s a deal, let’s go,” Lucy puts her arm through yours. “Y/n gets shotgun.”

Lucy drives you to this food truck joint, that has several different types and trucks to try from, so you could basically get whatever you wanted.

You sit in front with Lucy, while John and Jackson take up the backseat.

You snap a photo of John in the back seat, and tell him that you think it’ll make the Christmas card this year, resulting in a laugh from him.

Once there, Lucy picks a table with four chairs, and you sit as John gets the two of you something to share. Because, yes, the two of you are adorable like that. But also because he wanted to surprise you since you’ve never eaten there before.

You watch him go around to several of the trucks, getting a bit of everything, and you love him for it because he knows you so well.

Lucy shares a few of her fries with you as you wait.

When he sits back down, you are relieved to be hit with the smell of food, but then are hit with the urge to vomit.

Which brings you back to the whole reason you came to see John at the station.

You cover your mouth, which has you receiving a concerned look from your husband.

“Everything okay?” His frown deepens as get up.

“Excuse me,” You all but sprint towards the nearest trash can and hurl into it, not even caring about how people around you are trying to eat.

“You okay?” John appears beside you, rubbing your back and giving you a napkin so you can wipe your mouth.

“I’m fine,” You swallow, trying to get the taste out of your mouth. “Did you get something to drink?”

“Yes, it’s right this way,” John still watches over you intently, his hand on the small of your back. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” You laugh it off.

When you sit, you feel eyes on you, and you know who they belong to.

Your husband.

“John, we should talk,” You turn your head, dropping your fork.

“And that’s our cue,” Jackson nods to Lucy who stands with the man to leave to another table.

“What’s wrong? I thought everything was okay.”

“It is,” You grab his hand. “I took a test this morning.”

“A test? What— like, like a pregnancy test?” His eye brows shoot to his hairline. He was surprised, to say the least.

“Yeah,” You look down. “It was positive.”

“Really?” John lets out a breath.

“If you don’t want this, I understand,” You tilt your head. “You’re still just a rookie, and—“

“No,” John shakes his head with a big grin bloomed across his face. “I mean, I’ll admit, it’s terrible timing, but I couldn’t be more happier.”

You let out a big sigh of relief that has John laughing along with you.

“Good. Because I don’t know what I would have done, had you said you didn’t want this baby.”

“I would never say that to you, or anyone, for that matter.”

You smile up at him, placing a kiss on his jaw.

“We’re gonna have a baby,” John whispers.

“Yeah,” Your eyes water a bit, stupid hormones. “We are.”

#the rookie x reader #the rookie #john nolan x reader #john nolan #lucy chen #jackson west #send asks

[yeetus-feetus]

WIP Wednesday

Tumblr prompt: Tim is the first to find out the Red Hood’s identity and from then on sticks to Jason during patrol like glue (much to Jason’s chagrin, dammit, it would feel wrong to beat up Robin when he’s that starry eyed…) Cue: panic from the rest of the batfamily who still think Hood is a 40-something year old crime lord and now assume they’re dating.

@ghost-bxrd

Jason sighs, looking up at the sky dramatically. “Robin, I know you’re following me”, he calls out into the darkness, and there’s shuffling behind him.

He turns around to see Robin step out of the shadows, letting his cape fall apart and reveal bright red and green spandex and kevlar. “I wish the outside of my cape was black, I was running around like a sparkling traffic light”, he pouts under the helmet.

“Mm, maybe you should’ve taken some initiative. I designed my Robin suit all by myself, you took whatever B gave you”, Tim replies teasingly.

Jason chuckles. “Mmm, and maybe you should try humbling yourself every once and a while”. He removes his helmet and quirks an eyebrow from under his domino mask. “Hard to believe Batman never noticed you following him, I noticed you 10 yards back.”

Tim grins, holding his camera up and Jason sticks his tongue out as he takes a photo. “That’s funny, Hood, considering I started following you 50 yards ago. I got bored and started wondering how long it would take you to notice me if I started being less careful.” he explains, looking down at the screen to check the quality of the photo he just took.

“Oh, that right huh?” Jason asks sarcastically, not really believing him.

Tim’s grin widens mischievously and he waves the camera in front of his face. “Want proof, big guy?” he asks.

Jason laughs and snatches the small device, clicking through the recently taken photos. After a moment he groans defeatedly. “Yeah okay, I should've known you’d do something like that you little weirdo. so, how’d I hold up to your little test?”

Tim shrugs. “I wouldn’t call it a test, more of a game to entertain myself really”. But Jason raises his eyebrows up at him, making him sigh. “Yeah okay, you lost the game or failed or whatever. But you did fare better than Big Blue, so there’s that.”

“Oh yeah?” Jason smirks, still clicking through photos.

“Yup”, Tim says, popping the ‘p’. And hoists himself up onto the brick parapet, back facing the city as his feet dangle about an inch off the concrete roof. He tilts his head at Jason when he doesn’t move from where he’s standing, low glow of the open camera screen illuminating his face.

“These are actually really good”, Jason finally says, looking up at him. “Like really clear and in focus. It’s impressive”. He walks over and hands the camera back, leaning against the brick.

“Thanks”, Tim smiles. “I’ve always been really into photography, y'know? It’s like capturing a moment in time and immortalising it, so it will exist forever, even when I'm gone. I really like that aspect of it”.

Jason hums in response. “Never took you as someone sentimental”, he comments.

Tim is quiet, but it’s obvious he’s thinking. And then he hums back. “I didn’t realise I was either”.

This time Jason is the one observing, watching Tim rub his thumb over the side of his camera, and wonders if Tim felt the same way about his photos from before he died, if he looked at the the same way he’s looking at these photos now… if he kept jason alive in still frames while he was gone.

Then he decides he’s making it too deep and pulls out a cigarette, lighting it as Tim turns his head towards him and scrunches up his nose. “Gross, dude.”

“What?” Jason asks, mildly offended.

“I hate the smell of cigarettes”, Tim states. “I don’t care if you smoke them just, not around me, please”, he says, nose still scrunched as he shimmies away, keeping his hands braced on the brick so he doesn’t fall backwards.

Normally, Jason would roll his eyes and take a deep inhale, maybe blow the smoke back out into the other person's face just to spite them. But Tim isn’t telling him not to smoke, he’s asking him not to smoke around him. And, maybe Tim’s scrunched up nose is kinda cute.

So he snubs the cigarette out and puts it back in its box to save for later. “Fine, but I’m getting something to eat then”, Jason complains.

“Cool, I know a really good burrito place not far from here”, Tim smiles, and then he’s throwing himself backwards off the roof, laughing loudly when Jason rushes up to look over the edge.

“You little fucker!” Jason shouts out as he watches Robin shoot his grappling line and swing from a lower roof across the way. “Oh, I’m gonna get that little shit!”, he grumbles to himself, taking a breath to calm the sudden spike of worried adrenaline Tim caused before chasing after him.

Tim pays for their burritos and a tub of Mexican rice before Jason even has the chance to get out his wallet, and they end up eating them on a roof together a block away.

“Ohh yeah, this is good stuff”, Jason moans around a mouthful, and Tim giggles around his plastic spoon. “Okay, you’re forgiven for scaring the shit out of me earlier”, he mumbles, taking another bite of his burrito.

Tim sits the rice aside to take a picture of Jason with food on his face, cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk. Then another photo of Jason sticking the finger up at him. “Lol thats gold, I might make that my laptop’s screensaver”, Tim laughs.

“The laptop you keep all your creepy stalker folders on?” Jason asks, mouth still half-full, leaning over to try and get a look at the camera screen. “oh my god I look so stupid, please don’t!” he laughs.

“Oh gross Jason!” Tim squeals, brushing little bits of burrito off his suit. “Stop talking with your mouth full, you’re getting food everywhere!” but Jason only laughs harder, and ends up choking.

Tim rubs his back as he chokes and sputters over the edge of the roof, and laughs at his expense. “Here, have some of my water.”

Jason ends up chugging all of Tim’s water, so Tim steals his Soda in retaliation. It ends up as a game of rooftop tag until they’re both out of breath and decide to head to their separate ways to get some rest.

And that becomes a frequent occurrence on quiet nights after that. Sometimes even working together on a few cases. It’s honestly quite a lot of fun for both of them, a nice change of pace from the usual doom and gloom of Gotham’s streets.

⧫

Tim is tinkering away with some sort of gadget in the Batcave one afternoon when Alfred stops by with some snacks on a silver platter. “Everything alright with you young sir?” he asks politely.

“Yeah Alf, everything's great actually”, Tim replies cheerfully. But Alfred loiters by him for a few moments too long, making Tim lift his head to look at him questioningly. “What’s up?”

Alfred frowns. “Nothing, Master Timothy. Just, do know that you can come to talk to me about anything if you need, absolutely anything”. He pats Tim on the shoulder in some kind of gesture of comfort before leaving Tim confused at his desk.

What was that about?

But Tim is even more confused later on patrol with Batman. Which was already odd actually, usually they don’t patrol together unless they’re working on a case together, or on a mission, or just something important– there’s nothing important happening tonight. B just told him that they were patrolling Midtown and to get in the batmobile.

And so there they were, driving around in dead silence.

“So… Tim, how’ve you been lately?” B asks, voice gruff and tone awkward.

That makes Tim turn around in his seat to face the older man with his whole body, confusion and worry on his face. “I’m good… why the sudden interest?” he asks cautiously. “Is there something up that I should be worried about?”

Bruce grunts and spares a glance at him before looking back at the road. “I was just asking.” and then, after a few beats of quiet: “You’ve been spending an awful amount of time around the Narrows and Crime Alley”, he states. Oh. That’s Jason’s territory.

Oh.

“Are you worried about Red Hood or something?” Tim asks. Well, this is… complicated.

Bruce grunts again. “Or something.” he turns the car around a sharp corner and Tim braces himself against the seat at the sudden change of route.

He thinks whatever that conversation is over, but a few moments later Batman speaks up again. “Just stay away from him. He’s bad news Robin.” Tim turns to give him a look. “I’m serious. No more patrolling Uptown”.

“What!?” Tim asks. “Are you banning me or something??”

“Yes.” And Tim knows his word is final. Batman’s word is law after all.

He huffs and sits back in his seat, crossing his arms like a petulant child.

Fine, he won’t patrol in Uptown. He’ll just have to figure out a way to convince Jason to meet with him in Midtown somehow. No, that won’t work. Red Hood won’t leave his turf unattended to.

Buut. there is a loophole here that he can take advantage of…

#Hinted jaytim #Jaytim #tim drake #jason todd #tumblr prompt #wip wednesday #red hood #tim drake robin #Red hood but they don't know he's Jason

[aflame4goinghome]

Bad Reputation

s.f.k. x reader

chapter two

Word Count: 7.4k

Chapter Warnings: swearing, drinking, smoking (marijuana), flirting, a little bit of arguing, lots of sexual tension, slow burnnnn so no smut... yet ;)

A/N: Hi guys! Welcome to chapter two! I'm excited to continue this little story for you all. I hope you don't hate me too much for the slow burn ;) Things will really start to heat up once tour starts up, so stay tuned hehe. See ya soon

Listen to the playlist here :)

chapter one

•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•

You step off the stage after another successful gig and quickly retreat to the dressing room for a moment to freshen up before heading out for a few drinks. Unfortunately for you, tonight’s celebrations, along with every celebration from now on, will be quite different due to the required presence of a certain bassist. Jodie thought it would be a good idea for Sam to attend all your gigs, to make your relationship more believable as you started “launching” it to the public. 

You were reluctant at first, but at the end of the day, it didn’t feel like that big of a deal. You didn’t have to be glued to his side the entire night or anything, or at least you hoped not. Nonetheless, you knew he was waiting out there for you, and you knew that he had come alone, which made it even worse. At least if Danny or someone had come along, you’d have some sort of buffer, but no– it was just the two of you. Lucy wasn’t even on shift tonight either, having taken the weekend off to go home and visit her family. 

It’s only been just over a week since you agreed to this deal with Sam, and it was already exhausting you. You honestly haven’t even spoken to him since that day, since both of you have been swamped with rehearsals, but Jodie reached out and let you know that he’d be there. You were hoping that he had forgotten, but when you saw him in his usual corner booth during your set, you realized you had gotten your hopes up too high. 

“Whatever! I’m strong, and I’m confident, and I don’t care,” you say to yourself in the mirror as you touch up your makeup briefly. The pep talk wasn’t really working though. “What’s there to be afraid of, anyway? He’s just a guy!”

“I’m a man, for the record,” you hear a smug voice say from behind you. God-fucking-damnit. “A damn good-looking one, at that.”

“Samuel, what are you doing back here? I was coming out any second now, you couldn’t wait?” you say, scoffing to yourself as you put your makeup back in your bag and turn to him. 

You’re actually surprised to see that he dressed rather nicely tonight. He’s wearing a pair of black jeans, paired with a red button-up with the sleeves rolled up. He had the top two buttons undone, but that was the most of it– not nearly as low-cut as Jake would do. 

“What, your boyfriend isn’t allowed to come see you after a show?” he asks sarcastically, leaning against the doorframe. 

“You’re not my boyfriend, Sam– not actually. Nobody’s watching us back here,” you scowl, slinging your tote over your shoulder and walking to the door. You walk right past him and b-line it toward the bar. 

“Seeing us come out together will help us look more like a couple, obviously,” he says smugly. “Come on, Y/N, I thought you had some wits about you.” You stop in your tracks and turn over your shoulder to glare at him. You take a deep breath before feeling calm enough to reply.

“Fine, whatever. Let’s just go,” you mutter, turning to walk toward the bar again. That was the closest that you could ever get to telling him he was right. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but you suppose that it wouldn’t be bad for your image if you walked out together. 

“Seb, double rum and coke, please,” you say, trying to brush off your frustration by faking a smile. Sebastian nods and then his eyes drift behind you for a moment. You nearly forgot, honestly. “Oh, and uh– whatever he wants, I guess,” you add, nodding to the tall “man” behind you. 

“PBR,” Sam says behind you, and Seb turns to grab a can from the fridge and open it for him. He places both of your drinks on the counter with a sympathetic smile and then adds it to your tab. 

Without saying anything else, you just turn to retreat to the corner booth, sliding in first. As you situate yourself, you’re startled by Sam sliding in to sit next to you on the same side of the booth.

“What the hell are you doing?” you ask accusingly. Sam rolls his eyes, taking a swig of his beer before turning his body toward you, his long legs stretched out underneath the table. 

“Sweetheart, no one is gonna believe we’re together if we sit as far away from each other as possible,” he answers bluntly. “You have to at least look like you like me and enjoy my presence.”

“It’s harder than you think,” you mumble under your breath, looking down at the drink in your hand atop the table. “But fine.”

“Second time I’m right tonight, y’know. Do I get a prize?” he says with a smirk. You find yourself stifling a laugh, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of thinking he’s funny.

“Is the company of a talented pianist not enough?” you say, your lips turning upward slightly into a smile, subtle but still there. A chuckle leaves his mouth, which surprises you. You never expected him to laugh at your jokes before. 

“I suppose it is, you’re one lucky lady, Y/N,” he says smugly. Damnit. 

“Careful, Samuel. For a moment there, I almost thought you were complimenting me,” you warn with a smirk, taking a sip of your drink. Another laugh erupts from the man sitting next to you.

“Oh, I’m sure you’re just dying for that, aren’t you?” he says, his tone bordering on teasing. 

“For you to compliment me? Please. I don’t need you for that when I can easily find it elsewhere,” you bite back. 

“Well, I don’t see any takers,” he remarks, looking around the room sarcastically. “Seems like you’re stuck with just me. Good luck getting any attention now, with me around.” You don’t even grace him with a reply after that one, just taking a long sip of your drink before putting it down on the table and turning your attention to the next act on stage. 

He lets the silence stay, looking to the stage as well as his arm extends to sit behind you atop the back of the booth. As his arm moves behind you, you’re met with a quick waft of his cologne, smelling strongly of spearmint and pine. You’d be kidding yourself if you didn’t admit that the scent almost sent your eyes rolling in the back of your head, intoxicating you. But you quickly shake it off. 

“So… you guys will be going back on tour soon, yeah?” you ask, trying to fill the silence and save yourself from feeling awkward. He turns toward you, keeping his arm behind you as his fingers graze your bare shoulder. 

“Yeah! We’re heading back out in a few weeks, we’re still trying to get more studio time in so that we can finally start the masters on our next project,” he answers proudly. You knew he was passionate about the music, it was something you respected about him.

“That’s great. From what I heard in the studio the other day, you guys have something really amazing going on there. I really liked the blues roots in some of them, I caught it almost immediately,” you say with a soft smile. Maybe talking to him wasn’t as bad as you might’ve thought. 

“See, thank you! Josh hates those bits– says they’re sonically boring. I completely disagree, obviously,” he says, a smile growing across his face. Despite hating to admit it, the two of you had aligning interests when it came to music, that much was clear. 

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about! My favorite part was your transition from E major to C sharp minor, in that second song you guys played. It was so satisfying, that’s one of the best key changes in my opinion,” you say, starting to rant but catching yourself. You start to apologize for rambling but the smile on his face tells you that you don’t need to. 

“I’m glad you caught that, no one else ever pays attention to stuff like that. I swear sometimes it feels like I’m all alone there, their minds just don’t work the same as mine,” he says, his smile widening as his thumb rubs softly on your shoulder. 

“Well, I understand. It’s not exactly the same, but Lucy never gets it when I ramble on about music theory. As a writer, music is like a whole other language to her. I’ve never had anyone to really talk to about music before,” you admit with a shrug, looking over at him.

“Maybe we’ve found that in each other, then,” he says quietly, running his tongue along his bottom lip as your eyes watch carefully. You nod slowly, not sure what else to say. You’re not sure when you let yourself get so distracted, but you couldn’t help it. The proximity made your mind so foggy that you couldn’t think about much else. 

All of a sudden, your attention is pulled away from your phone buzzing on the table. You pick it up to read the text you just received, which you see is from Jodie. 

Jodie: Fans have already spotted you both out at the club! Some pics are already circling Twitter, look! 

She attached screenshots of some tweets that have already been posted, questioning who you are and what you’re doing with Sam. The pictures show the two of you sitting close together, Sam’s arm wrapped around you as the two of you are smiling and laughing.

OMG, who is that with Sam???

He has his arm around her, look!

God, I’m so jealous.

They’re sitting awfully close to be just friends!

You have to admit that the two of you did look good together. You managed to make it seem casual and natural, which was good. To have the fans already buzzing about it was a good sign. After you finish reading the tweets, you hand your phone to Sam so that he can take a look.

“I swear, our fans know no boundaries. Who just takes a picture of someone who’s out minding their own business? Pisses me off,” he scoffs, handing you your phone back as he shakes his head, looking around to see if he can catch anyone looking. 

“I know. But at least we have their attention, right? The seeds have certainly been planted. Now we just need to figure out some sort of hard launch,” you answer optimistically, hoping that he’s not too angry. He doesn’t seem to be, since his smile still hasn’t completely faded just yet. 

“We look kinda good together there, don’t you think?” you joke, pulling up the picture again. You hear him laugh next to you, shaking his head as he looks down at your phone over your shoulder. 

“Yeah, I guess we do,” he admits softly. You almost didn’t realize how close he had gotten, to the point where you could feel his warm breath against your ear. You try not to think about the it too much, with the fear of blush creeping over your cheeks. 

“Wanna really give them something to post about?” he whispers with a smirk, his voice against the shell of your ear sending shivers down your spine. Leave it to Sam to ruin the moment with relentless flirting once again. You turn your head to face him and realize that he’s much closer than you originally thought. Your nose brushes against his as your eyes lock. You clear your throat, trying to seem unaffected.

“As much as I’m sure you’d love that, I don’t think we need to rush all of that so soon,” you say softly, a twinge of sarcasm dripping from your voice. You watch as his smirk widens. 

“Fine, you can be boring,” he says smugly, leaning back against the seat. “But I at least want to give them something interesting to talk about. Who cares if we’re just sitting and talking? Everyone does that, we could at least do something a little creative.” It truly was a performance after all. You just hum as a reply, not wanting to perpetuate the argument any further. 

“Here,” he speaks again as his other hand moves to grasp your thigh, pulling your legs to rest slightly on his lap. His hand still lingers on your thigh, grasping firmly on your thigh right below the hem of your leather skirt. 

“What’re you doing?” you say, in almost a whisper. His boldness has taken you aback, and you hesitate to fight back in that moment. The feeling of his large, callused hand on your skin clouded your brain so much that you almost thought you might like it. 

“Giving them a show,” he smirks, turning to make sure people are looking before turning back to look at you. You couldn’t hide the flush of your cheeks now even if you wanted to. It didn’t take long for him to notice. “Am I getting you all hot and bothered, sweetheart? Is that it?” he asks with a smug grin, his hand moving an inch up your thigh as the other ghosts over your bare shoulder again. 

“Pshh– what? No. No. That’s ridiculous,” you answer, obviously flustered. 

“Just admit that you like it,” he says, leaning down to close more space between you. “Your secret’s safe with me.” Yeah, right. He’d never let you live it down if you even gave an inkling that you were enjoying this. You’d never give him that satisfaction. You clear your throat, inching away from him. 

“Wanna get another round?” you ask, trying to change the subject, but he doesn’t budge. 

“Answer my question,” he says assertively, his fingers playing with the hem of your skirt teasingly. You breathe out a deep breath, but keep your eyes on his. He’s searching them, waiting for any hint of you giving in, but finds nothing. 

“What would you do if my answer was yes? What then?” you ask, your voice breathy and quiet. His lips quirk slightly as he looks down at you. 

“You don’t have to play these games to get my attention, y’know. You already have it,” he whispers, his nose brushing past yours. That’s it, you can’t do this anymore. 

“Okay, I need a smoke. Let me out?” you ask, still backing away slowly with the hopes that he’d stand up and let you out of the booth. An annoyed sigh leaves his mouth as he complies, getting up from his seat. 

“I’m coming with you,” he says, clearly not asking. You just roll your eyes and nod, walking out to the front of the club. Leaning against the front of the building, you reach into your tote and pull out your lighter and the blunt that you had rolled earlier that day. Given the stress from the evening, you thanked your earlier self for thinking of it. 

Placing it between your lips, you quickly light it, taking a drag before lowering it to your side. You take a moment to look over at Sam, who’s looking down at you as he leans his side against the wall. Feeling like you were being slightly greedy, you decide to offer him a hit, which he gladly accepts. 

“Didn’t take you for the stoner type,” he says casually, taking another hit before passing it back to you. 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Sam,” you answer, raising an eyebrow at him as you take a long drag. You watch as his eyes flicker to your lips for a moment there. You knew what he was thinking. If you were crossed enough, you thought you honestly might let him. But not just yet.

“I’m starting to see that… I guess if I want to know anything about you, I’ll have to work for it, yeah?” he says with a shrug. That was exactly what you were going to say next– that he had to work for it. You hated that he could read you like that. Maybe you were more predictable than you thought. 

“I suppose so. You should stop while you’re ahead though, I won’t give in that easily,” you tease, taking another hit as you look up at him, trying to read his expression. The weed is already mixing perfectly with the liquor in your system. Your head felt lighter already. 

“I’m not afraid of you, sweetheart. And I don’t go down without a fight,” he says with a smirk, leaning toward you slightly. He towered over you, which felt slightly intimidating. You couldn’t really read him well, either, which made it even more difficult. 

“What do you wanna know?” you ask, taking a hit and blowing it out of the side of your mouth. 

“Where are you from?” he asks, taking the blunt in his fingers as you pass it. 

“Here,” you answer bluntly, watching his lips purse as he takes a drag. It was way hotter than you expected it to be. “Well, not here exactly. I grew up in a town like, thirty minutes away. But I’ve been coming to Nashville all my life.”

“I see,” he says, a small smile on his face. You didn’t ask him where he was from– you already knew the answer, and he knew that. “Did you always know that you wanted to play music?”

“Pretty much, yeah. I started playing piano at 6, joined the jazz band in middle school, and it all just kind of grew from there. My high school band director is the one who set me up with my first ever paid gig, when I was 17. After that, I knew this was what I needed to do.” You can tell that he’s trying to hide his smile, but it’s not working. He was impressed by you, and for some reason, you liked that. 

“I did jazz band too, amongst other things. It was honestly a great start on music theory, learning about chord progressions and improvisation and stuff like that,” he says with a shrug, passing your blunt back to you. 

“Yeah, I agree. You learn a lot of important stuff there,” you reply, taking a hit. It was nice to have someone to talk music with, even if it was Sam. He knew what he was talking about, and it felt like he understood you. That’s not an easy feat. 

“Have you ever been in love?’ he asks, looking down at you. You expected to find a smirk on his face, but there wasn’t one there. 

“That’s a loaded question,” you joke, taking another hit as you try to think of what the hell to even say to that. “I don’t think I have, to be honest. There were times when I thought I was, but looking back…” you trail off. “Have you?”

“No,” he shakes his head, taking the blunt from your fingers and taking a hit. “Nothing ever stuck. Not sure why.” Surely you had a couple of good guesses, but you wouldn’t dare to say any now. The topic was somewhat vulnerable, which you didn’t expect from him. Why did he want to know this about you? You’re gonna take a mental note to ask about it another day when you’re both much more sober.  

Some time passes, as the two of you share the blunt in silence. Near the end of it, you pass him the blunt and let him finish it off, watching him flick the butt onto the sidewalk and stomp it out. He doesn’t make a move to go inside, however, but instead moves closer to you. As you look up at him, your mind starts to spin as his head reaches for your face, cupping your cheek. His thumb smoothes over your cheekbone, the rough callus on it sending shockwaves throughout your body. You’re not sure why you don’t pull away, even when his face starts getting closer and closer to yours.

“Don’t run away this time,” he whispers, his nose brushing against yours as your eyes travel to his lips. They looked soft and full, and you started to wonder if they would feel warm against yours. You knew you probably wouldn’t have to wonder much longer. For some reason, you didn’t want to run away. No, you wanted to stay. Something inside you wanted to know if you’d feel something– anything. 

Your eyes lock with his as his other hand finds its place on your waist, tugging you toward him slightly. You search his eyes, seeing if you could read his mind. What was going through it? You knew he’d been persistent with you before, but why did this feel different somehow? You let your nose brush against his again, as you feel his breath hot against your lips.

“Sam!” you hear someone exclaim from behind you, causing you to jump from the brash noise. 

“We’ll finish this later,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. You suck in a deep breath then quickly pull away, leaving at least a foot between you two as a girl approaches you– seemingly a fan. Sam puts on a brave face, smiling softly as he talks to her. He was gracious and kind, despite being visibly frustrated. 

“Do you… want me to take your picture?” you ask softly, to which she nods feverishly. After snapping a few photos on her phone, you hand it back to her with a shy smile. 

“So, who’s this?” she asks, turning to Sam. God, she was nosy. All the fans were, clearly. What did she care? Why would she need to know who Sam was spending his time with? Your angry internal rant comes to a full stop as Sam wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into him.

“Actually, this is my girlfriend, Y/N,” he says proudly, his grip soft but strong on my side. You offer her a soft smile as her face lights up, and you know this will be plastered all over the internet by tomorrow. You suppose that was the whole point, though. This was bound to happen eventually, you just didn’t expect it to be on your first night out. You thought you’d have more time to prepare. 

Luckily for you both, this girl was way too drunk to bother asking too many other questions. Soon enough, she says her goodbyes and swiftly leaves. You breathe out a sigh of relief, laying your back against the wall once more. 

“Fuck, that was exhausting. How do you do that all the time?’ I ask jokingly, rubbing my temples. He lets out a soft laugh, which makes your lips turn upward into a smile almost immediately. 

“It’s not always that bad. Usually, they refrain from personal questions like that… sorry. I know I kinda put you on the spot there,” he offers genuinely, which you accept. 

“It’s not your fault, you didn’t know it would happen. I just wish I was more prepared– I mean, we don’t even have our backstory together or anything! We haven’t discussed any of the details at all,” you say, slightly exasperated. Another laugh leaves his lips. You think to yourself that you quite liked being the person who makes him laugh.

“Right, well I guess we’ll just have to figure that out then. We’ll need to be prepared, now that everyone is going to know,” he says. “How about we meet up for coffee on Monday and set all the details straight? That sound good?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you nod with a small smile. “I can do that.”

“Great, I’ll text you the details tomorrow then,” he says, reaching into his pocket for his phone. He sees the time and his eyes shoot open, not realizing how late it's gotten. “Shit, it got late on us. Can I call you a cab?” he asks, looking up from his phone to look at you.

“Oh, no that’s not necessary. I only live around the corner, I’ll walk,” you insist, though you’re surprised he cares that much. It was a side of him that you had yet to see.

“Then I’ll walk you home,” he says, not even letting you answer before starting to walk off. How he knew what direction it was in, you weren’t sure. You suppose he’s seen you leave that way before and leave it at that. 

Soon enough, you’re both stopped in front of your apartment building. It seems like you’re both unsure of how to say goodbye, considering the nature of your “relationship” was such a gray area. You knew he was about to kiss you earlier, and you knew that you were going to let him, but you’ve sobered up slightly now. It wasn’t a good idea.

“Goodnight, Sam,” you say softly, just choosing to back away without a proper goodbye in favor of avoiding any more awkwardness between the two of you.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he says, offering you a soft smile as he shoots you a wink. You watch as he turns to leave and walks back toward the bar to catch his Uber home. As he turns the corner, you quickly turn around and retreat inside, hurrying to your apartment before finally entering your bedroom. You lean your back against the door and sink to the floor, your mind slightly boggled by the entire evening. 

You have to admit that you ended up enjoying his company. The teasing was still excessive and he was arrogant, but there were times when this different guy shone through the cracks. You wanted to know that guy.

•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•

As you’re sitting on your balcony on Sunday afternoon, enjoying the sunny weather with an iced coffee and a book in hand, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You slide a bookmark onto the page and shut the book, setting it down on your table next to your coffee before reaching into your back pocket to pull out your phone. 

Sam: We still on for tomorrow?

You hum to yourself, checking your calendar quickly to make sure you don’t have anything else going on. You thought that he might have forgotten about your plans to meet up tomorrow, since it was already well into the afternoon and you hadn’t heard from him. But you suppose he isn’t one to rise early, as Danny told you last week. You typically weren’t either, but today was an exception. 

You: Yeah, whenever works best for you. We could meet at the coffee shop across the street from Seb’s?

That place was your usual haunt, the baristas all knew your name by now. It was helpful for hangovers, so you always came in the morning after a night out and it soon became a habit. You knew Sam didn’t live in Midtown, but maybe he wouldn’t mind coming down. 

Sam: Sounds good, meet at 2 pm? I’ve got a short meeting with the guys in the morning.

You: Yeah, that’s good. See ya then.

He doesn’t respond from there, so you just leave it at that. You never took him for much of a texter, so you didn’t read too much into it. You slide your phone back into your pocket and open your book back up, picking up where you left off. 

Just as you were getting back in the groove of the story, you heard your apartment door close behind you. You turn around to see Lucy coming in from her weekend with her parents. She spots you outside and walks over, sliding the glass door open. 

“Hi, love,” she says, coming outside and sitting on the chair opposite you. 

“Hey, Luce. How was your weekend?” you ask, still keeping your eyes on your book. 

“It was good! Tommy had his graduation ceremony this weekend, so there was a big party,” she answers with a smile. Tommy is her younger brother, who’s just graduated high school. You never knew him well, since their age gap was so big, but he was a sweet kid. 

“That sounds nice!” you say, offering her a soft smile. 

“How was yours? Anything interesting happen?” she asks, raising an eyebrow at you. She knows something.

“What did you see?” you ask bluntly, getting right to the point. A chuckle leaves her lips as she smiles at you.

“Oh, nothing. Just saw a few pictures of you and a certain rockstar cuddled up at Seb’s last night, plastered all over their update accounts on Instagram,” she says with a smug smile.

“Why on Earth do you follow their update accounts, you weirdo!” you say, barely getting the sentence out before you both erupt into laughter. 

“When you told me you’d be pretending to date him, I went and followed some of them! I knew you were bound to make it on there eventually and I wanted to see my best friend become famous!” she exclaims, pulling her phone out to show you the posts. There were photos of you both in your booth and standing outside the club. You did look rather close. 

“I am not becoming famous. It’s just a couple of photos,” you say curtly. “And he might have told a fan I was his girlfriend,” you mumble at the end, hoping she didn’t hear.

“He what?” she yells, and your hand shoots to cover her mouth with a giggle.

“Shhh, shut up, the neighbors already think we’re crazy,” you laugh, taking your hand away after a moment. “It’s not a big deal. We knew he’d have to make it official eventually. We’re meeting up tomorrow to get our story together and stuff, so that we know what to tell the fans in case we get asked anything on the spot.”

“Wow, you guys are moving fast,” she teases. She had no idea. You were tempted to tell her about the kiss you almost shared the night before, but inevitably you decide not to. Talking about it will just complicate things even more.

“Whatever. He’s actually not that bad at times– but don’t tell him I said that,” you say with a small smile across your lips. “We just have more in common than I expected.”

“I’ve been telling you that for months, Y/N,” she says sarcastically, getting up from her chair. “I’m gonna go rot in bed for a while, talk to you later.”

“Okay, have fun,” you say, your smile widening as you wave her off and then open your book back up again. 

You really couldn’t stay concentrated on reading today, it seems. You try your best to refocus, and you eventually do, reading until the sun starts to go down. Soon enough, you retreat to bed, getting an early rest before your coffee “date” with Sam tomorrow. That should be… interesting, to say the least. 

•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•

As you try and get ready to go the next afternoon, you’re completely stuck on what to wear. What does someone wear to a coffee date with their fake boyfriend to discuss the terms of their fake relationship? God, even phrasing that question made your head spin. You tried asking Lucy for advice but she was no help, just resorting to light teasing and not giving any actual suggestions.

“Why do you care what you wear? It’s not like he’s your actual boyfriend,” she said with a smug smile. You didn’t grace her with a reply, opting just to shut the door in her face and turn back to your closet. 

You sigh to yourself before sifting through your clothes, pulling out a white linen button-up shirt. You decide to just go with a black tank top, with the white shirt on top, left unbuttoned. The weather was quite warm with the summer heat really starting to settle in. You throw on a pair of jean shorts, slip on your low-top white vans, and then throw your things into your tote bag before heading out the door. It was only a few minutes before 2 at this point, but you didn’t want to arrive too early. You assumed he’d be late himself, anyway. 

As you turn the corner and cross the street, you see him sitting at a small table out front. Damn, guess you were wrong. Again.

“Sam,” you greet quietly as he stands up from the table. 

“Nice of you to finally show up, Y/N. Was starting to think you stood me up,” he says with a smirk, opening the door for you. 

“Shut up, I’m two minutes late,” you answer with a scoff, getting in line to order a drink. He stands next to you, leaning against the counter. You decide to stand in silence until after you place your order since your bickering wasn’t really the best idea in public. You order a chai tea latte and Sam just gets an americano, and the two of you find a table in the corner while you wait. 

“So, let’s get started then, shall we?” Sam says, leaning back in his chair. “Where’d we meet?” Your lips quirked upward into a smile.

“Okay, getting right to the point, I see,” I joke, folding my hands and placing them on the table. “Well, that one’s easy. We met at the club. We’ll just say that you came to some of my gigs and just liked me sooo much that you had to say hi,” I say, fighting the urge to roll my eyes at the absurdity of it all. You watch as a chuckle leaves his mouth, and there goes that feeling again. 

“Alright, sure,” he laughs as a barista comes to put our drinks on the table. “Thanks,” he says to them, taking a sip of his drink before turning back to you. “And we can say we started seeing each other… when? Maybe March?”

“Yeah, that sounds fine,” you shrug, taking a sip of your chai. “That won’t explain the girls you’ve had… relations with between then and now, though,” you add, looking up at him. He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms as he leans back in his chair. 

“If you’re jealous, just say that,” he smirks. “We can just say that we only became exclusive recently.” You quirk an eyebrow at him, but quickly decide it’s not worth the argument, opting to just scoff and change the subject. 

“What do we say when they ask why I’m not going on the tour with you guys?” you ask, adjusting nervously in your seat as a look washes over his face that you can’t quite interpret. 

“Are you not?” Sam asks, the tone in his voice sounding slightly accusatory. You’re not even quite sure how to reply, this wasn’t something you ever discussed.

“Wait, do you want me to?” you ask, straightening your posture. “I still have to work, you know. This is how I make a living, I can’t just ditch Seb for weeks on end.” He ponders your words for a moment, then leans forward a bit. 

“You don’t need all that. Jodie said she’d help set you up in your career, and she meant that,” he says sincerely. “She can pay you for the entire time we’re gone, if that’s the problem. I’m sure we can find something for you to do on the tour. And then when we come back, we can get you in the studio to record your album.”

It all almost felt too good to be true. Too easy. What was in it for them, truly? Sure, having a likable and successful girlfriend would be good for Sam’s image, but is that really all it is? Why does it feel like you’re getting way more out of this than they are? 

“I don’t know, Sam. I really don’t feel like I’ll belong there. What could I possibly do on tour besides act as your arm candy?” you say bitterly. 

“Y/N, you’re not just my arm candy. It isn’t like that,” he says dejectedly. His eyes scan your face but you don’t seem convinced. 

“You may be strikingly beautiful, but you’re much more than that to me, trust me,” he teases, coaxing a smile out of you. When he sees that his plan is working, he continues. “Maybe you could help me compose some piano fills for the shows or something.”

“You’d really let me do that?” you ask, your eyes lighting up slightly. A soft smile grows across his lips. 

“Sure. You won’t catch me admitting this ever again, so don’t get your hopes up, sweetheart… but you’re a talented musician. I’m sure we could cook something up together,” he says. 

You look over at him for a moment, trying to figure out if this is the same Sam that you used to argue with all those weeks ago. Obviously, it is, and he’s still keeping you on your toes, but something’s changed. You’re starting to think that this partnership may work out after all. 

“Okay. Alright, I’ll come,” you answer. “How long is it, anyway?”

“We’ll only be gone a month, and then we’ll have off until the end of the summer,” he assures you. It can’t be that bad, you suppose. 

“Okay, so we have that covered, I guess,” you say, taking another sip of your drink. “I guess that just leaves one more thing. We should set up some rules.”

“Rules? Seriously?” Sam scoffs, leaning back in his seat again. 

“Yes, seriously. We have to be on the same page or else this is gonna end up becoming a big mess,” you say, returning his annoyed look. 

“Fine. What rules are we talking about here?” he concedes.

“Well, first of all, do the rest of the guys know? Do they know it’s fake?” you ask.

“They think it’s real,” he shrugs. “Jodie thought it’d be better that way.”

“Okay, we’ll keep it that way then. But Lucy knows it’s fake,” you admit, and he gives you a disapproving look. “I tell her everything, it’s not my fault! But she’s the only one, even Seb thinks it’s real somehow.”

“Right, well. To the rest of the world, it’s real then. Anything else?” he asks, raising his eyebrow at you. 

“We should agree that this,” you start, pointing your finger between Sam and yourself, “is only in public. When we’re alone, it’s just me and you, none of this happy couple stuff.”

“Well, you don’t have to tell me twice,” he says with a smirk, “...unless that’s something you’ll have trouble with, sweetheart?” he teases. 

“Yeah, right. I just can’t seem to keep my hands off you, my bad,” you answer sarcastically. “Whatever, so that’s handled. Have anything you wanna add?” you ask, sipping from your mug.

“Yeah, what happens if one of us forms any sort of…” he trails off, pondering his words carefully. “...feelings.” Your eyebrows shoot up as you look over at him, almost spitting out your drink. You swallow it quickly and clear your throat. 

“Feelings?’ you laugh. “Not that that’s ever gonna be a problem, but… if it is, then I guess we’ll just have to cross that bridge when we get there.”

“What, you’re not scared that you’ll fall in love with me?” he asks, leaning over the table slightly. You mirror his actions, your faces mere inches away. 

“Not in the slightest, Samuel,” you answer proudly, your eyes piercing into his. You weren’t going to back down, and neither was he. As you watch his eyes drift to your lips, you clear your throat, leaning back again. 

“Anything else?’ you ask, looking down at your mug in your hands as you avoid his gaze. 

“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’ loudly. You can just hear the smirk in his voice. You’re not giving in that easily, you know that the second you look up at him, your heart will jump into your throat. 

“Great, so that settles it,” you say, taking the last sip and then putting your empty mug down on the table. You watch as his hand extends out to yours, to shake it.

“Girlfriend?” he asks, smirking at you as you finally look up at him. You have to hold in a sigh as you offer your hand to him, shaking it.

“Girlfriend.” 

His eyes dart between your eyes and your lips again before he brings your hand up to his mouth, kissing the back of it lightly. It takes everything in you not to fold right then and there, frankly, but you’re stronger than that.

His lips were just as soft as you thought they’d be. Not that you’ve thought about them before, of course not. Nonetheless, they were soft, and so warm. They lingered far longer than you wanted them to, and your instincts caused you to pull your hand away, placing it back in your lap. At that, you abruptly stand up from your seat, grab your tote bag, and put it on your shoulder. 

“I have to– I’ve gotta go,” you say softly, and he quickly stands up.

“Okay, I’ll walk you home,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck nervously as he follows you out the door. Again? That’s the second time just this week… You have to admit that it was thoughtful, but you don’t want to think too much of it. It’s just a nice gesture, nothing serious. He might be an arrogant asshole, but you guess he’s still a gentleman.

You walk beside each other on the sidewalk as you make your way down the street to your apartment. Every once in a while, his hand brushes yours as you walk, sending jolts throughout your body that you’re determined to ignore. You wondered why he asked you about the possibility of feelings being involved. Was that something he was worried about? Should you be worried about it? Surely not. Lucy seems to think you should be, if you told her about this she’d freak. But it’s not a big deal, right?

You stop in front of your building, the awkward opportunity of a goodbye leering over you both once more. You go back up toward your building in the same fashion as the other night, but a strong hand stops you before you get the chance to get too far. 

“Josh is having a party on Friday,” he says quickly, as if he was spitting it out. “I told him I'd bring you.” You stop and look up at him, his grip on your upper arm still remaining.

“Oh. Yeah, I’ll be there,” you answer with a soft smile. His eyes light up, like he was expecting you to put up a fight.

“Cool. I’ll pick you up at 8?” he asks. You nod, as his eyes continue to burn into yours. God, what now? Before you have the chance to do something awkward, his other arm lands on your waist and he bends down, placing a kiss on your temple and then backing away toward the sidewalk, leaving you in silent shock. “See you then, sweetheart.”

“Uh– yeah, see you,” you mutter, your eyes trained on him as he turns the corner. What the fuck was that?

As you slam the door of your apartment, you rush off to your room with hopes of avoiding any interrogation from Lucy. It doesn’t work, however. 

“Y/N,” she opens your door with a smug look on her face, leaning against the door frame. “How was your date?” You scoff at her as you throw yourself onto your bed. 

“I don’t even know where to start,” you groan as she enters the room and climbs into bed next to you. 

She stays sitting up as you lay your head on the pillow, and her fingers comb through your curls as you debrief the events of your afternoon. Despite her occasional jokes and teasing, she seems to be really supportive of you going on tour with the band. After all, it will be a good start for the future of your music career. But at what cost? What will it be like to spend a month straight with Sam Kiszka and his band of brothers? You still had two weeks to prepare, but even that didn’t feel like enough. Your world was moving a mile a minute, and it was only just getting started. 

•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•

Leave a comment or send me a message if you want to be added to the taglist for this series, or if you want to be tagged in all of my stories!

Taglist:

@highladyofasgard @gvfpal @childinthegardenn @myleftsock @peaceloveunitygvf @gretasfallingsky @gretavanfan @itsafullmoon @jordie-gvf

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fic #sam kiszka #sammy gvf #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka x reader #enemies to lovers #sam kiszka gvf #greta van smut #greta van angst #gvf #enemies to friends to lovers #bad reputation #greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet fanfiction #gretavanfleet #sam kiszka smut

[lokisprettygirl]

Close Ties (Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Modern AU) (Non canon) (18+)

Read Chapter 16 // Series Masterlist

Chapter 17

Summary : You realise that life can take a turn for the better and the worse at the same time.

Warning: 18+ Smut, dad's best friend trope, canon (we don't know her..don't like don't read), feeling of hopelessness, uncle Daemon kink (you don't have to squint), familial uncle niece sort of relationship but he's not really her uncle, there will be more smut later, masturbation, significant age gap but reader is in her mid twenties, mention of infidelity, miscarriage , divorce, smoking and alcohol drinking, physical violence implied

His doctors made you all sit down and had the upsetting talk that you were dreading since you had entered the hospital.

You weren't even listening to him because your mind kept drifting towards the last conversation you had with the man you had loved all your life, that's not how you wanted to leave it behind, you didn't want that to be his last memory of you, the one that ended with anger and resentment.

You'd never be able to forgive yourself for hurting your father like that. When the doctors told you that he was stable for now but we needed to prepare ourselves for all possibilities you breathed a sigh of relief, you just wanted to lay next to him like you used to do as a child every time you had a scary nightmare and this is exactly what this felt like..A nightmare.

“Go home sweety..get your sleep and then come back “ you heard your mom's voice but shook your head in response.

“I am not going anywhere until he's up” you told her so she nodded in understanding.

“He's fine..he's conscious but he needs his rest, you heard the doctors”

You heard them all too well but you had to tell him that you loved him, as you made your way in his room he did give you a smile, that made you feel a tad better because then you were able to hold onto him and tell him how much you loved him and how much you didn't want him to leave you.

He didn't say much but he clearly expressed to you that he loved you more than anything in the world and he even jokingly asked you to not tell your mother that he had said that to you. For a moment you felt normal, the way things used to be before your world turned upside down and you were glad that you had that conversation with him before you went home that night because he didn't make the night..he didn't survive, he left your mother as a widow at such an young age and you had truly lost a parent now.

You weren't even there to see him take his last breath. When Daemon knocked on your door late at night and you saw his tear stained cheeks you knew what he was going to say and perhaps he'd have hugged you but losing a parent was one of the worst pain imaginable, he had lost both of his parents and he could imagine what you were going through in the moment.

He knew you wouldn't want to be held or touched at the moment so he just stood there and allowed you to break down on the floor, he watched you wail and cry for what felt like hours, even though it has barely been a few minutes, when he wasn't able to take it anymore he stepped inside the room and bent down on his knees to pull you into his arms.

“Take me to mama please..I need mommy” your broken cries broke his heart as well but he knew he'd have to be stronger so he could take care of you.

“I know sweetheart.. I know you do..i'll take you to her love” he whispered softly in your ear but he knew nothing could have made you feel better in that moment.. nothing.

The funeral was to be held five days later, your father had stated his wish beforehand and had asked for all the family members and relatives to be there. That included his real brother and his family. As your mum's sisters arrived you let go of your mum, perhaps that's who she really needed at the moment so you stayed in your room, numb and motionless, reality still didn't seem real. Daemon came to check on you and he brought something for you to eat every time he came but you didn't say a word to him, you couldn't.

On the day of his funeral, the rest of the family members kept showing sympathy towards you but you only felt anger towards them, none of them visited him once he had disclosed his illness with the world so their presence and tears only irked you further.

Everytime you looked at Daemon you found his eyes glued to you, he was worried about you, that you could tell. Your father had left a will behind where he stated that he was signing off the 10 percent of his shares in the company to him which in your dad's case was a fortune to handover to someone and a part of you felt relieved that he hadn't looked over everything Daemon had done for him. Rest as expected would belong to you, your mum got the mansion and he had left enough for her that she could live her whole life luxuriously without even lifting a finger of her own.

But all of that was given, what shocked you to the core was the letter he had left for both Daemon and you, a letter that stated his consent, his blessings, he wanted to tell you both that if being with each other was what brought you two happiness then he didn't want to take that away from you two and he didn't want to hurt you most of all, even during the last conversation you had with him he didn't give you an indication that he was willing to bow down to your wishes so that really came as a surprise.

As the funeral ended, everyone moved to the mansion for the dinner but you couldn't find Daemon anywhere, it's been a week since you even had a conversation with him and now that the funeral was over with you were finally able to see your reality for what it was. Your father was gone and he wasn't going to come back no matter how much you wanted things to go back to the way they were, that part of your life was over but you were still here and your mum was here and you knew you'd have to take care of her now the way he did.

Your mum had support around her in the form of her sisters and other close friends. You did as well, Rhaneyra was there for you every moment you needed her but right now you didn't need a friend, you needed your man.

When he opened his door he was still in the black suit he had on for the disposition but he had taken the jacket off,

“Are you busy?” You asked him so he gave you a small smile, very small, it would have gone unnoticed if you didn't know him as well as you did.

“Did you umm read the letter?’ you asked him so he sighed in response. He wasn't sure he wanted to talk about that so soon.

“Did you?”

“Mmmhmmm..i did “ you looked down as you answered him, your fingers were fidgeting so he grabbed your hands in his and made you stop shaking, as you looked up at him his eyes were staring down at you,

“You can talk to me my sweet Pixie pup, you don't have to be alone in this, don't have to suffer alone..” your eyes welled up at the sweet sound of his voice.

“I feel guilty..i feel like i wasn't a good daughter and i feel like he was disappointed in how i turned out to be” he placed his one thumb on your lips as you said that, other one wiped your dripping tears, your lips were trembling and he knew your father's out of nature behavior in his last days would lead to you feeling this way, that's what he had feared.

“Shhh that's just untrue, your father loved you more than anything in the world ..that never changed for him, he was just trying to make you stronger and didn't really know how to go about that”

“You promise?”

“Promise, i knew him and nothing mattered to him more than you and your mum” you nodded as he said that. You really hoped that was true.

“He was your friend…I'm so sorry that you lost him again” his eyes teared up as you said that.

“I know..I'm sorry too”

You brought your hands up and ran it over the seam of his shirt, he was so close to you and you had missed him this close to you, none of you were drunk at the moment and you really wanted to kiss him.

“Why write a letter, why didn't he tell us himself?” You asked him so he looked at you for a moment, he knew the answer, you did as well but you wanted to see what he had to say about that.

“Perhaps he thought he had more time” You nodded as he said that.

No, that wasn't the answer you were looking for.

“Ummm i should go and check on mum downstairs “

“Alright” he stepped away from you as you said that and you swiftly turned around to leave. He watched you leave and the door shut on your way out, taking a deep breath he ran his fingers through his hair and he wasn't really anticipating for you to come back but you did, you opened his door and this time as you got in you locked it.

Standing against the door you stared at him for a moment before you walked towards him and kissed him. His hands immediately went around your hips as he pulled you closer to him, he had waited enough and he wasn't going to wait no more, he wasn't going to sacrifice anymore to please his best friend's soul, your father was gone but he was still here and he loved you and you loved him and he was going to make you happy for as long as you'd need him in your life.

You pulled away from him barely for a moment just to breathe in before your lips clashed again, your fingers were already undoing the buttons of his shirt and he didn't stop you either. You didn't want him to stop tonight, it almost felt blasphemous to indulge in your lust on such a day but you needed him, not just by your side but all around you, you needed him up close and inside you, you really needed him and you weren't going to sleep alone and cold in your bed tonight.

As you jumped into his arms he walked you a few steps and laid you down on the bed, his breaths were heavy that mirrored yours, passion was swirling in your veins, it's been almost a year since he had returned in your life and you had gone months craving him the way you did at the moment. You didn't want to wait anymore.

He wanted to get a verbal confirmation but as he looked into your eyes he didn't need your words anymore, he didn't want to talk, he just wanted to fuck you tonight and turn you his, make you his girl that he knew he was going to protect and cherish in every possible way.

As you sat up to pull him into the bed, his hands sneaked around you and he unzipped your black dress, your underwear and bra was discarded quickly as well while you unbuttoned his pants and then took his shirt off, burying your face between the crook of his neck you took a deep breath, like a drug his scent he intoxicated you almost instantly,

“I love you..I'm so in love with you it hurts me but I would never want to stop hurting this way Daemon..” you whispered in his ear and your words made him shiver in all the good ways.

Sure he had been in love before, sure he had spent countless nights tangled around his ex wife but the euphoria he felt in that moment was unreal, he felt alive and he felt younger than he had ever felt in his life. In that moment nothing mattered to him, not the fact that he was two decades older than you, he didn't remember that little girl he knew, he just wanted to spoil the woman that was writhing in his arms and clinging to him as if he was everything she'd ever need in life.

Grabbing your bare thighs he opened your legs apart and a sweet giggle escaped your throat as you laid back down on the bed, after such a long time you didn't feel any pain you just felt that sweet sensation that was coursing through you from head to toe, your smile disappeared and face contorted as you felt his cock thrusting in your wet cunt in one quick motion.

"So fucking beautiful"

A countless times in your head you had imagined how this would go but nothing could have prepared you for the pleasure you were about to receive. Sure you had sex before with someone you thought you could marry someday but he never made you feel this way, how could he when you were born for the man that was on top of you at the moment.

“Look how well you're taking me sweet girl”

A moan escaped your throat as he placed his forearms next to your head and trapped you underneath his body, his lips trailed all over your face and your neck as he thrusted in and out of you slowly, torturously slow, he wanted to take his time, make this a night you'd remember not for the loss you had suffered but for the love he was willing to offer you all your life.

Your fingers trailed over his back, nails dragging over his satin skin and as you moved your hands down and clasped those firm cheeks between your fingers he let out a grunt, a deep manly grunt that would be the subject of your wet dreams for years to come.

He was your dream come true and you never wanted to forget that, you wanted to engrave this moment in your head so someday if you'd end up taking him for granted like your father did you'd remember how much you had prayed for him to be yours.

You wanted to treat him like the man that he was, a man like him deserved to be worshiped in every possible way and you were going to worship him in all the ways you could.

You wanted to keep your life in his hands because that's how much you trusted him.

“I'm going to..ohhh godd” your words got cut off as a wave of pleasure traveled through every inch of your existence.

“Gonna cum hmm? That's okay my love..i do intend to make you crumble until you're all spent”

“Mmmm well that too but–” a loud moan spilled from your throat as your orgasm hit you out of nowhere, and as your walls clenched around him it took everything in him to not spill inside you right in that moment.

“Ohhh God oh God oh goddd…ohhh my-- ” you kept mumbling under your breath as you rode your high and he gave you a moment of peace, he was still, he didn't move at all but after a few seconds he grabbed your thighs again and wrapped it around his waist as he began to thrust again..

“What were you going to say before?” he whispered his question in your ear and it made you smile, you felt a bit hazy, your body felt lighter underneath him as if you were floating on a cloud, your clit was still tingling from that mind-blowing orgasm you had just experienced.

In that moment you understood why Cassandra was so obsessed with him and why Stella wasn't able to let him go. Not that you needed sex in order to feel that way about him, lucky for you he didn't belong to anyone else anymore. He was yours.

“Someday I'm going to marry you and you can't do anything to stop that”

You mumbled softly and watched his face warm up, blush arose his cheeks and there was that sweet smile on that beautiful face that always made your heart flutter.

“I have no choice huh?”

“Nope”

He kissed down from your neck and then caught your nipples between his lips as he sucked on them one by one slowly, thrust after thrust he ruined you more n more, nothing would ever feel as good as he did in that moment, his fingers linked with yours and the sound of his ragged groans and grunts indicated that he was close, well that and the way every vein on his cock was pulsating inside you.

“Uncle.. please”

“Good fucking girl of mine...you can't ..oh fuck” he placed his head down between the crook of your neck as he came, hips kept moving on its own, your arms curled around his neck and legs entrapped him completely as you stroked his hair, and as you felt his warm cum fill you up you shattered again as well, you gave yourself a moment to realise that the man you had lusted for all your childhood was spilling his release inside you and was taking you in every possible way.

A part of you still felt as if you were dreaming still because you couldn't comprehend the reality, your reality in that moment was prettier then any dream your mind could have conjured, once he came down to his senses he collapsed next to you as he didn't want to crush you under his weight, though you'd not have mind one bit.

Both of your breathings were still ragged from the act-

“Wowwww..okay..you're no old man like you keep telling me in order to deter me”

He chuckled as you said that,

“well I have a few good years of sex left in me it seems”

“Will make it count”

After taking a much needed shower he wrapped you around in a warm blanket and snuggled you, perhaps you could have stayed up and had a talk but your body felt so relaxed that it didn't take you long to fall asleep in his arms.

Next morning when he woke up you weren't there next to him and his heart clenched, he was hoping to wake up with you but perhaps you needed to sneak out of his room before your other family members would see you doing so. They didn't know yet and he wasn't sure now if you wanted to disclose this relationship in public considering everything. He grabbed his phone to give you a call but a text you had sent him made his heartbeat speed.

“we need to talk”

He was immediately anxious by that.

Suddenly he didn't feel so positive, he felt nauseous instead. Did you regret last night? Maybe he should have controlled himself, you had just lost your father and he shouldn't have fucked you like that as soon as he was gone.

Especially when he knew the truth.

You were currently in your mum's room brushing her hair because she wasn't feeling well, well your parents' room if you were being honest with yourself, it felt hollow without him though. Growing up your father was a very busy man and there came a time when you were used to not seeing him for a long stretch of time but at least you knew he'd always come back.

“I hope you know that he never wanted you to feel as if you weren't enough for him..he loved you more than anything” your mum mumbled softly so you gave her a smile.

“I know mum..I hope you know that too …ummm can I ask you something personal?”

You asked her so she gave you a smile from the mirrorview,

“I know you both have hurt each other and uhh ..well do you think you should have told him the truth back then when you weren't not entirely faithful to him?” She looked down for a moment as you questioned her.

“I have thought about it countless times, but no I don't think I should have told him the truth, our relationship was fragile at the time and we would have lost each other. I'd have lost these happy years I spent with him if i wasn't able to keep a secret”

You nodded as she said that.

But keeping a relationship that was built on lies, was that the right thing do?

“He's a good man” she said to you so you sighed,

“i know mum..i know he was a good man”

“I'm not talking about him sweetheart”

You looked at her as she said that

“Well..I know that as well. I know it's weird for you and everything but I can't..i can't help the way I feel for him”

“I don't blame you but you have no idea what this will do to him..once the truth gets out in the public he'd be the one to take the fall for it..just make sure you'd be ready for that”

“I won't let him fall..” you wrapped your arms around her shoulders and hugged her from behind before you placed a kiss on her temple.

After getting ready as Daemon went downstairs the living room was filled with your relatives, he saw you on the couch sitting next to your mum. He looked at you to gauge your reaction. You did glance at him once but quickly averted the gaze which honestly didn't make him feel any better.

Your uncle's voice rang louder as he was arguing over the content of the will your father had left behind, he didn't understand how Daemon got the shares in his business but his own brother didn't.

“Wow, are you really that surprised by his decision? Where were you in the last few months?” you chuckled as you asked him and your mom gave you a look to keep quiet but you won't be quiet anymore, your father knew what he was doing and who he could trust with his money and his empire, that's why he reached out to Daemon because he knew Daemon never harbored ill intentions towards him even though he had every opportunity to do so considering what your dad had done to him.

You had learned to stand up for yourself in the last few months and you won't have snakes and leeches around you or your family so they could harm you someday, especially Daemon, he'd do anything to protect you so you were going to do the same.

“Where was I? I have a life, I'm not an unemployed imbecile living on my friend's riches like that arse over here”

Daemon crossed his arms as he heard your uncle spitting venom against him, he was showing his true colors in the open now that your father wasn't here and he wasn't in the least bit surprised “And what does she know about the business world?” He asked your mum and that's when you knew you had to speak up.

“Daemon works for Panache, my dad hired him because he knew better and he's absolutely not going anywhere now that I'm the CEO..but you know who's going to leave this house right fucking now? You” Your voice was filled with anger as you said that and Daemon had never felt so turned on in his life as he did in the moment.

“Y/n behave yourself –” your mum interrupted you so you looked at her.

“Mum–”

“I said behave–”

She glared at you and you didn't want to disrespect her in front of everyone so you got up and left for your room upstairs, on the way out you looked at Daemon, hoping that he'd come talk to you as you really needed to talk to him.

A few minutes later as you heard the knock on your door you quickly pulled him inside by grabbing his hand.

“Are you alright?” He asked you so you nodded

“I'm just so sick of those leeches out there”

“That's not what I meant”

“What did you mean?” you looked at him confused so he sighed and placed his hands on his waist to contemplate his thoughts.

“Are we alright? I mean I know perhaps our lovemaking last night wasn't what you expected. I woke up and you're not there by my side and then you sent me that text that uhh-”

He stopped speaking as he noticed a smile on your face

“Awnnn I made you worry didn't i?”

You walked closer to him and grabbed him by the collar of his business suit to pull him even closer to you “Did you not see me almost passing out last night because of your gorgeous dick?” his brows furrowed as you cupped the bulge in his pants shamelessly

“I am just worried about you..you're grieving and perhaps I shouldn't have–”

“I don't regret it ..i could never..i promise baby..please believe me”

“You're going to call me baby now?”

“Mmmhm” you leaned into him to cup his cheeks and then you kissed him ..as lovingly as you could but before things could heat up he pulled you away.

“Hang on..why did you send me the text?”

“Well there's is something I need to discuss with you”

“About what?”

“About me being a CEO”

“Don't allow your uncle to hurt your confidence ..he knows nothing about what it takes to be in that position”

“It's not him Daemon ..it's me..it's a me problem"

“What is it darling?” He asked you softly as he cupped your cheeks

“I'll tell you but can we make out first? And maybe I will give you something to remember for the rest of the day?” he chuckled as he leaned down to kiss you

“I need to be at work and so do you”

“No you need to be in me Mr. Daemon”

“Shhhh naughty girl.. first thing in the morning jesus christ”

He shut you up real good by kissing every breath out of you and as you started to kiss down from his neck to his chest and then lowered down on your knees he knew what you wanted to do.

“Darling you're going to crumple my suit”

You looked at him as he said that.

“Are you always this iffy about receiving pleasure?”

“No ..only when I know your parents and the whole clan is downstairs and they're all wide awake and you want to blow me right against the door”

“Parent ..just one..i only got one now” as you looked up at him and unbuttoned his pants he let out an exasperated sigh.

“Please uncle?” you gave him the puppy eyes and the forbidden name which he responded to by grabbing the sides of your head. The next thing he knew you were sucking him in as if he was your first meal of the morning. He brought one of his hands up to run his fingers through his hair, his head was leaned against the door, he wanted to look at everything you were doing to him but he couldn't when you pleased him like that, however all his senses awakened when you took a five second break from licking and sucking to drop a bomb on him.

“I want you to take over the CEO position”

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Taglist

@serving-targaryen-realness @annoyingsweetsstranger @anukulee @mcufan72 @insertsomethingsillyhereple-blog @silentf @ajthefujoshi @stupidthoughtsinwriting @ammo23 @shuichiakainx @daddylokisqueen @ipostwhtifeel @anehkael @madlyinlovewmattmurd0ck @dixie-elocin @urmomsgirlfriend1

@sweatyroadcowboyjudge

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x female reader #Daemon targaryen x reader smut #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader angst #daemon targaryen x reader fluff #non canon au #modern au #age gap relationship #modern daemon targaryen

[popp1nstaxr]

"Im a Jelous" [C.YJ]

Content: Fem! reader, alcoholic substances, mention of drugs, smokers, explicit sex, Dom! YeonJun, best friends to lovers, cuss words, "caring" nicknames, smutt, nsfw.

Preview:

«YeonJun and you are best friends, they know each other very well, all the likes and dislikes of the other, it too much a confidence to the point of know some fetishes or even tell their sexual experiences each other. One day you go to a party together with YeonJun where they both get lost in the atmosphere believing that the other was drunk, his surprise the next day will be great when he finds out that neither of them was really drunk, but heck, who would think that he could fuck you in that exquisite way?»

I'm sorry if there are any spelling or writing mistakes, English is not my first language♡

Reblog and like please ><

You locked your car and put the keys in her little bag before you started walking to the party, you didn't park very far really so you only walked a block, the big frat house was full of lights and loud music was blaring through complete, you laughed a little when you saw some people smoking weed outside, it's not really something you feel like doing but you were always curious, even so, you wouldn't take a joint.

When you crossed the door of the house the atmosphere began to envelop you, the music resounding in your ears and the aroma of alcohol and some cigarettes melted in your nose, your nose wrinkled a little when you smelled that. You started looking for YeonJun with your eyes among the crowd of people, and you walked among them to try to find him, after all, you came for him. Just a laugh caught your attention and you stopped your step looking around, noticing how YeonJun pressed a poor girl with her body against the wall, cornering her and kissing her neck "Wow, don't waste time" you thought to yourself and laughed low, he he was always quite flirtatious and was always sleeping with someone new, so you weren't surprised, you walked a little closer and crossed your arms a few steps away, hoping that he would notice you; YeonJun seemed to catch your gaze and pulled his head out of the girl's neck, looking around her until he saw you, he automatically smiled and walked away from the girl, walking towards you.

"My girl!" I scream a little because of the loud music and immediately hug you with one of his arms around his shoulders, approaching him, you could feel the aroma of alcohol and tobacco, making it clear that he had been smoking a little.

"Hey, Jun" you greeted laughing a little as he puffs on his cigarette and then throws it to the ground, blowing smoke out of his mouth as he stomped on the cigarette.

"You took a long time, I was starting to get bored and I had to find some fun for the moment" he spoke with a charming smile on his face, and he came closer, sniffing your hair "woah, your hair smells good" you laughed a little.

"Yes, I took a while because I couldn't find a suitable outfit" you spoke and he nodded, moving away from you a little and facing you, his gaze shamelessly traveling up and down your body and then he clucked.

"That's not bad, it highlights your entire physique perfectly, it looks good" he spoke with a smile, more, you could see his brow still frowning as he continued to analyze you, you knew he was judging you with his eyes, after all, YeonJun had a Exquisite taste for fashion and many times he almost had heart attacks from the combinations you used.

"But..?" You said, laughing a bit and waiting for his criticism.

"But, it's very revealing, miss, I'll have to protect you tonight" he spoke and took your wrist, it was true, because you were wearing a somewhat short dress tight to the body, it was black, but it had a great neckline and relieved a little of the skin from your sides, not to mention that it left a perfectly fine view to the imagination with your bare legs.

YeonJun led you to a table, where he poured you some vodka in a glass and handed it to you "take a little cute, you need to loosen up a bit" he spoke as he handed you the glass.

You listened and drank with him.

You don't know when you got lost or separated from YeonJun, but now you were dancing quite provocatively with the guy who had invited you to the dance floor hours before, your movements were fluid and full of confidence, with hips swaying to the beat. From the music that brought out your natural sensuality, which could not be ignored at all, the guy would take your hips and pull you towards him in a somewhat intimate dance.

You didn't notice it, but YeonJun was watching you from afar, his gaze fixed on you and the boy, how he took your hips and shamelessly passed his hands over them, how you attached yourself to his body .

He gulped down the rest of his alcoholic drink and put the glass somewhere, both approaching with a serious expression on his face, his jaw somewhat tense, he was clearly annoyed, annoyed with how that boy touched you, annoyed that he was so close to you like that, it bothered how your hips moved against him.

"Y/N" said your name as soon as he came next to both of you, immediately grabbing your hips and pulling you towards his body, almost immediately pulling the boy away from you and looking at him with a serious expression over your shoulder "we have to go "He spoke to then lower his gaze and see you, smiling at you as he approached you in a more intimidating way, wanting to make it very clear that you are his.

"Now..?" You murmured because of the closeness of both of them, their breaths mixing, almost without avoiding it, your gaze traveled to his lips, they looked so damn exquisite that you couldn't help but think what they would taste like.

He nodded to your question "yes, now" he murmured in the same way and moved completely away from you, taking your wrist to pull you a little and guide you strong from there, he thought that you were quite drunk and perhaps for that reason he should take care of you, really, YeonJun wouldn't like something bad to happen to you.

That, or she simply couldn't handle his jealousy, was pretty obvious.

You followed him without reproaching anything, seeing how he turned to you as soon as they left the house.

"Did you bring your car, baby?"

"Yeah"

"Okay" he smiled "guide me" you nodded and led him to where you had parked your car, it was funny, because YeonJun knew how to drive and had a license, but he didn't have a car.

The road was relatively quiet, because YeonJun decided to drive and strangely he seemed more quiet and serious than usual, so you decided not to say anything about it, not until you saw how your house passes in front of your eyes and he didn't stop .

"That's my house..." you spoke watching as he passed by.

"I know," he said without taking his eyes off the road.

"And why didn't you stop...?" You asked, and he laughed gravely.

"Oh, didn't I tell you? Let's go to my house honey" he said then feigning innocence while one of his hands went to one of your thighs, where he squeezed lightly and then caressed the inside with his thumb, while driving with the other hand.

You could feel how his hand was caressing the bare part of your thighs perfectly exquisitely, and you noticed it, shit, you noticed it, they knew each other so well that you could even read their intentions and you smiled low to yourself, saying nothing in what was left. on the way.

He seemed to notice the fact that you read his intentions and smiled back.

—[♡]—

As soon as they entered YeonJun's house you collapsed on his sofa, he just stayed at the door, watching your movements, you laughed a little.

"Come on, I got you, the alcohol kicked you in and you want to fuck me, right?" You spoke with an amused smile, it didn't take long for you to hear his laugh and he approached you, sitting next to you and letting out a sigh, settling on the sofa, while I patted his leg in a clear invitation for you to sit on them.

You didn't even think about it, it wouldn't be the first time you've been sitting on his lap anyway, so you immediately went to sit there and YeonJun almost immediately put her hands on your waist.

"Maybe..." he muttered loud enough for you to hear, and you chuckled softly and placed your hands on his shoulders. While he accommodated you in his lap, getting a little closer to his body until they were almost glued together, there was a silence between the two of them as his breath collided.

"You let me..?" YeonJun murmured to which you nodded and immediately their lips met in a slow kiss, savoring the flavor of the other, little by little the lip began to gain intensity while YeonJun managed to have one of her hands slowly caress your thigh, moving up His hands over them until he reached under the dress, caressing dangerously your inner thighs.

You separated from the kiss and he looked at you confused "what's wrong?" He muttered looking at you with a frown.

"Jjunnie, let's go upstairs" you suggested, he smiled and kissed your forehead, taking his hand out from under your dress and taking hold of your thighs "Come on then... hold on tight" he said and you felt, wrapping your legs around his waist in when he took you by the thighs and got up from the sofa, walking with you to the room, where he closed the door as soon as he entered and carefully left you on the bed, immediately climbing on top of you and launching himself to devour your lips again, caressing your body slowly as he unzipped the dress, once he did, he separated from your lips to go down your jaw passing through your neck to your collarbones, making sure to leave hickeys all the way around his lips at the same time as little little by little he would take off your dress and reveal your body, the same one that bristled with each caress you felt from him and damn his touches were almost electric through your body, making you sigh every time his big hands took your hips .

Once the dress was off, he separated a bit from you, admiring your whole body under him and damn he loved seeing you like this, licking his lips, definitely, he was going to mark you completely, he was going to have you, devour you, destroy you and make sure you couldn't have fun with anyone but him. Because of course, the memories of that boy and you were still in his head, torturing him, he had to make you scream his name. I needed it.

"I'll definitely fuck you" he murmured and he chuckled before lunging at you again, leaving soft wet kisses on your chest, you chuckled a little.

"I know, Jjunnie..." you murmured the same way and inevitably a moan of satisfaction and pleasure left your lips when he began to lick and suck the tips of your nipples, you don't know when he took off your bra but he really did. thank you, the pleasure he was giving you with his mouth on them was just fantastic.

One of his hands slowly went down your abdomen towards your intimacy, gently rubbing in circles there over your clothes, and it couldn't be more satisfying, you were already wet enough, your panties gave it away and with that shit he was overstimulating you from so exquisite shape

Inconsistently you opened your legs a little more and arched your back, for that action he released your nipples from his lips and I look at you, laughing a little "what a desperate beauty" he teased a little sweetly and began to leave wet kisses on your abdomen , equally down to your belly, lingering there for a bit "Let me have some fun, okay?" You nodded in a sigh mixed with a moan when he faked a thrust with his hand over the panties, little by little under them revealing your completely wet intimacy, he licked his lips almost as if he saw a damn sweet "So wet... ..I should try a bit, mh?" He spoke with a husky, sweet voice as he plunged his finger inside you without warning, making you moan loudly, both in surprise and excitement.

He slowly began to slowly move his finger inside you, faking perfect thrusts almost, he definitely knew you too well, more than you thought.

"Mmj Junnie" you moaned with satisfaction and he smiled "louder love, I want to hear it again" he spoke with his hoarse voice when he put another of his long fingers inside, now penetrating inside you with two fingers, these getting completely wet with your liquids , your walls tightened almost immediately in his fingers and he chuckled, enjoying your need "I don't hear you" annoyed again, thrusting harder with his fingers.

"J-Junnie" you moaned again, a little louder than before, with how little YeonJun really let you breathe, his fingers doing such a great job that you were almost begging for more.

"Very good~" he congratulated satisfied and inserted the third finger, now carelessly penetrating with enough force, your moans mixing with some little screams and some tears accumulated in your eyes.

"Almost, almost, almost" You said quickly between moans and sighs, pressing the sheets tightly under you and suddenly you no longer felt anything in your privacy, you immediately opened your eyes and raised your head a little, seeing how YeonJun had He removed his fingers from inside you and almost without avoiding it you whimpered a little, needy, really, you were so close.

"Shh, don't cry..." he said and placed a kiss on your private area, starting to unbuckle his belt to remove his pants and shirt, of course, I was going to use his cock.

Almost immediately you made yourself more comfortable on the bed, but he looked at you funny and shook his head "In four" he demanded with a hoarse voice and a look between amusement and lust.

Oh my God.

A few months ago you had told him how much you wanted to try that position, and you smiled a little, almost immediately obeying his request to put you on all fours in bed.

He came up to you and caressed your butt with his hands "Mmh...lower, honey" he murmured and with his hand under your head to the bed, arching your back "Place your legs a little wider and your ass higher baby "You obeyed, raising your tail and spreading your legs a little more, he put a pillow under you "Yes I'm going very hard, just scratch the pillow or bite it, don't think I'll stop" he warned and left a kiss on the nape of your neck, you nodded .

He looked at your butt for a few seconds before aligning the tip of his cock with the entrance of your anus, playing with your buttocks in your hands, opening and closing them, stroking them, then giving a blow that made you jump a little.

I laugh for that.

He took his own member and began to introduce it inside you, once inside, you didn't even have time to get used to it and he began to move, penetrating, the shock of his skin sounding almost immediately.

Little by little I increased the speed and the room became a sea of ​​hoarse moans and sighs, especially some screams and whimpers from you, the tears from before coming back and rolling down your cheek, squeezing the pillow hard.

"Jjunnie, Jjunnie- a-ah-" you moaned his name between babbling, that seemed to just turn him on more and motivate him to move faster and frantic against you, he didn't say a word, he just threw some low curses and hoarse laughs, along with sighs and groans.

Almost instantly you were already reaching the climax, both you and YeonJun and very soon you came, moaning loudly in his name, which made him come inside you because of that.

I stop his movements, but he didn't leave you when he finished, instead he leaned in to leave little kisses on your back, little by little making hickeys and biting a little, he was going to mark you, definitely.

After a while, he completely separated from you and let you lie on the bed to rest, he followed you and lay down next to you, opening the sheets to cover both of you.

They didn't say anything, just curled up next to each other's body and fell asleep together.

Oh, this would definitely be something YeonJun would tell his friends about tomorrow.

════════════════════════════━━

#txt #yeonjun x reader #txt yeonjun #choi yeonjun #choi yeonjun x reader #yeonjun #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun smut #yeonjun smau #txt scenarios #txt smut #txt imagines #txt angst #txt au #txt fanfic

[iovesia]

LEAVE ME WITH WATERCOLOR EYES.

❥⠀masterlist. ⠀:⠀ ( heathers masterlist. & gif credit. )

synopsis: breaking up with jd proves to be more than difficult when he's not willing to let you go that easy.

warnings: angst. blackmail. yandere themes. use of cigarettes. one non-con kiss. manhandling. toxic relationship dynamics. not proof read.

pairings: jason dean   𝒙   fem!reader.

josie's note .⁺ ˖ ⌒ this was originally posted on my ao3 as a drabble, but i felt like making a little extended version of this fic. your media consumption is your own responsibility, read the warnings and enjoy!— reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated !! ♡

⠀

⠀

"What are you doing here?" You spat, glaring at the dark figure standing in the corner of your bedroom. The moonlight through the window illuminating his black leather boots, and the lighter he pulled out his pocket.

It was hardly shocking to find him lurking in your room. J.D frequently slithered in through your window, and while you normally awaited his nightly visits with enthusiasm and delight— now you just wished you bought a stronger lock.

The flick of the lighter echoed through the dimly lit room, and the flame briefly shone on his face, revealing his cheshire smirk. You watched carefully as he took a step forward, placing the lit cigarette in between his lips, the heavy aroma of the Marlboro filling your nose.

He knew how much you hated his smoking.

"I said, what are you doing here—"

"I waited, you know?" He interrupts, taking another puff of his cigarette. "Two weeks, I waited for you to come crawling back to me."

"And you can wait forever, for all I care. It's over, J.D. Grow up!" Something inside you snapped as you stalked towards him. You were tired of letting him push you around, bending you backwards to his will with whatever and whenever he pleased.

Your lips pressed into a thin line and your nails pressed hard into the palm of your hand. It pissed you off to no end how apathetic he was. His constant nihilism, and need to feel superior to his peers. But, maybe that's what attracted you to him in the first place.

He pursed his lips and blew a small cloud of smoke into your face. You let out a small cough, as burning sensation bloomed into your eyes. J.D smoothly walked past you, his leather trench coat scratching against your arm.

"It sucks you made me do this," he muttered. His hand pushing around a stack of unknown papers on your desk.

"Do what? What's that?"

J.D's eerie smile continues to hang on his lips as he slowly picks up the paper, and flips it over. Your heart dropped and your chest tightened as you watch him pick up more photos. He lets you watch in horror for a minute, before you rush over to him, arm reaching out for the pictures. He holds them above your head, as you grab his arm with one hand, the other desperately reaching upwards. J.D sighs contently, he missed your warmth against him.

"J.D— what the hell?! Where did—" Your words die in your throat as you catch a glimpse of your desk. You push J.D away, and begin to scavenge through the stack of photos. There were so many. So many photos of you forging suicide letters, and other compromising evidence that would surely ruin you if they were released.

When the hell did he take this? How did I not notice? You thought to yourself, your hands shaking with adrenaline.

"It's come to this, hm?" JD sighs mockingly, the side of his face hanging over your shoulder. Tears brimmed your eyes, blurring the sight of the incriminating photos of you, that JD had sprawled over the table. You felt his arm tighten around your waist, pushing your back against his chest.

"You can't show this to anyone. We have to throw these away."

"I could happily throw these away, but you'd never know who might find it. It'd be a shame if they were to end up in the wrong hands. Hell, I mean, you'd never know what they'd do with these," JD's piercing stare bore into you, but you shut your eyes, tears now freely rolling down your face. "Make copies... plaster them around the school.. or send them to the cops." He takes the cigarette out his mouth, pushing the lit end against the table before tossing it in the bin nearby.

"God, you're fucking psychotic," You let out a small breath, lower lip quivering as you harshly shoved him. Suddenly, a rigid grip on your jaw forced you closer, your chest pressed against his. You squeeze your eyes shut, another lump choked up in your throat.

"Look at me," J.D whispers softly, sending a cold chill down your spine. You felt his breath on your face as you slowly shook your head.

"C'mon, darling.. please look at me," J.D places a gentle kiss on your cheek, his grip still tight on your jaw and you were sure it was going to leave a mark later. Reluctantly, your eyes fluttered open and your teary gaze met his cold, empty eyes.

"If you really cared me, you wouldn't do this to me," you argued, your lower lip wobbling as a fresh set of tears burned your eyes.

"Sweetheart, I'm doing this because I care about you.. we're meant to be," he replies, as he presses another kiss on your forehead. He releases your head from his suffocating grip, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. You were a bird trapped in his cage, and he had just clipped your wings.

"You'll see that soon."

#dark.josie #jason dean x reader #jd x reader #jason dean imagine #heathers imagine #heathers x reader #heathers 1989 #jason dean

[luveline]

would you be willing to do palm kisses for zombie au? holding hands during a stressful situation and palm kisses? i just really the world you built for the zombie au and hope this is something worthy of your writing energy.

hi!!! thank you sm for your request, hope this is OK! tw general apocalypse hardship + r falls n cuts her head ♥︎ fem!reader

There are people hunting you. 

At first, you and Steve can't really believe it. You're on a steady course toward the city after a couple of weeks scraping together food, looking for any sign at all of civilization. Of his friends. 

You've told Steve too many times that you'll follow where he goes, no matter what, for as long as he can stand you. And at first he'd joked that might not be very long. These days he just squeezes your hand or your arm or your shoulder and says, "Forever, then." 

It happens too often, the sound of a gunshot that travels, smoke from a campfire not far behind. You and Steve are on the same page about it — whether friend or foe, you have to be careful. Letting your guard down now would be the stupid thing to do. You've survived for months now together, through hordes of zombies and unfortunate accidents, the time you got locked into a walk-in freezer with a zombie, and the time you fell ten feet through the floor of a dilapidated townhouse and survived the concussion from hell. Wasting all these second chances to try and broker contact with whoever it is that's following you would be childish. 

Steve holds out his hand to help you over a ditch. Seemingly man-made, though it could've been a tributary run dry. 

"Careful," he says, smiling, "it's slippery." 

"Don't let me fall." 

"No, I won't," he assures you, offering his second hand as you step across. You take it and he pulls you over, making one of his happier sounds. 

You could communicate through sounds alone with him now. At first, Steve hadn't spoken much. Shell-shock, you'd summarised. He was agitated, angry, and scared, though he the latter well. He was trying his best to get you both through circumstances nobody has ever had to go through, and you'll admit you were more of a burden than a help at first, so you won't blame him for being so stressed. You've learned a lot now, how to defend yourself and how to defend him.

His sounds continue and you translate as best as you can. This one's pleased. It's practically a well done.

"Do you think we should zig zag again?" you ask. 

"You read my mind." He pulls the strap of your backpack into place over your shoulder and starts to walk again, your fingers intertwined, joined hands a tether. "I think… Maybe it would be a good idea to find somewhere to hide."

"We don't know if these creeps are watching us. What if we hide and they box us in?" 

Steve's grip on your hand tightens. "I don't like being out here. The cold will kill us before they do." 

He's right. And you're right too. The cold will kill you, and whoever it is that's expending the incredible effort it is to follow you around will probably kill you too if they find you. You've done well in evading by keeping strict time, sleeping for only a handful of hours before you're on the run again, but you can't cover your tracks well. The campfire at night gives you away, yet without it you'll freeze to death. 

You're fucking terrified. Steve hasn't shown it, but you figure he must be too. What could it be worth to follow you like this? You're only two people. 

You bite your cheek hard and wince, startled at your own thoughts. What could you be worth? Beyond your packs, all you have are your bodies. A sinkhole opens beneath you and swallows you whole, a thousand scary visions flashing quick like pictures on a projector. They want to hurt you. They must. And there are a lot of ways to do it. 

"Maybe we should hide," you say quietly. 

Steve rubs the back of your hand with his thumb. "Whatever we do, we just gotta be smarter about it than they are. Every night we practically lead them to us with the fire, so. If we get inside, we won't need that, but-" He looks forward toward the horizon, where you can just barely make out the shadowy impressions of buildings at the end of the highway. "I don't think we're gonna get there any time soon." 

Like he can feel your anxiety, he adds, "They're slowed down by all the same stuff as us. That's not gonna change. Maybe a geek'll do us a favour and eat them before-" He drops off. 

"Before what?"

You're side by side now. He turns his face to yours. "I don't know. Before we run into bad luck, I guess." 

You walk in silence for a few seconds, and then you nod and swing his hand. "Bad luck, us?" 

"My sarcasm is corrupting you." 

Sarcasm, maybe. You jinx yourselves. 

Steve is clearing a place for the night. There's not much you can do besides sweep aside the bigger twigs and lay your tarp to try to cut the cold. Now that you're comfortable practically climbing on top of one another every night you're warmer, but the earth soaks up cold, and it's unforgiving. 

You don't know how it happens, how they manage to catch up, but suddenly there's laughter from not far away, and it isn't the fun kind. Far from Steve's light and bubbly chuckle or your own loud, clumsy giggling, this laugh is cruel. This laugh is winning. 

Steve doesn't even stop to roll up the tarp. A branch snaps like a firework through the trees and you both flinch to one another. He takes your hand. 

"We're gonna run," he says, more calmly than you'd expect from him. 

You run. Rucksacks pulled tight to your bodies, linked by trembling fingers curled aching around each others, you run through the trees. The sun sinks low toward the horizon and through the silhouette of the city like a drunken lover coming home; slowly, so slowly, a wobbling egg yolk dripping down, and then it's fallen to the floor and disappeared in a queasy flash.

You can see enough to race around trees, up slopes, enough to see the highway a couple hundred yards to the right, and to see Steve's hand in yours swinging in front of you both as you sprint. His breaths come loud, gasping, and you realise you should be taking bigger breaths too as a stitch starts to form. You run through it, you don't mention it, horrified at the idea of stopping even for a second. 

Each step burns, and the heavy weight of your pack digs into your shoulders. The light fades more and more and soon you feel like you and Steve are stumbling blind, wondering how much longer you can last. You'd never have thought before all of this that your endurance would stretch so far, but the difference sometimes between life and death is the strength to keep running. 

You trip on a tree root and tumble forward, going fast enough to feel your feet leave the ground. Your breath catches, any air that had managed to sink into your desperate lungs punching out of you instantly. 

"You're okay," Steve says quickly, though he can't know. "You're okay." His hand hook under your armpits and he drags your shaking body behind the too-skinny trunk of a tree, the roots you'd tripped on like ice under your thighs. 

You try to look at him and find yourself blind in one eye. 

"Steve," you say pathetically, hand flying to your face. 

"Shh, shh," he shushes, a distinct trembling in his voice. "It's okay. You're okay." 

"My eye-" 

He holds his hand over your mouth. You pant through your nose and squirm, but he only presses down harder, so hard your teeth hurt. 

"I'm sorry," he pleads desperately, a whisper, "I'm so sorry, you need to be quiet." 

You whimper into his palm. 

"You're bleeding," he whispers. He opens his mouth to continue but stops, head tilted to one side, listening. When he doesn't hear anything, he continues, "You're bleeding from a cut on your forehead. It's in your eye. It's-" He swallows hard. "It's all over you." 

His hand softens. 

"You need to whisper," he says. 

You nod. He pulls his hand away. 

Words won't come. You're shaking hard, teeth clicking together, and Steve is touching you. His hands at your neck, his thumb wiping blood away from your mouth. He pulls you away from the tree so he can dig in your bag for the first aid kid, a shoddy, near barren plastic case. 

He tries to open it and it's too dark. It's so dark, and the bleeding won't stop, blood heaving down your face in a bumping stream to your collar. 

"I'm- I'm gonna-" Steve's hands are not steady. "I'm gonna wipe your face, and- fuck." 

Your chest is moving erratically. You both need to calm down. You need to be quick. What's the best way to make him — make you both — focus? 

You take his hand, the one that isn't covered in blood, and bring it to your lips. You kiss him weakly at first, better on your second attempt. 

"It's okay," you say. 

He drops his forehead against the back of his hand briefly. 

"It's okay, Stevie," you say, lips moving against the lines of his palm. His lifeline, his loveline. 

He takes a deep breath. "Shit," he mumbles, sitting back on his knees again. 

"I don't think they followed us," you whisper. 

He cups your face. "I don't think they could. We were fast." 

You laugh and abruptly close your mouth to stifle it. 

In the dark like this, the only light the slim trimmings of the moon, Steve looks at you like you're everything. Awed, and undoubtedly afraid, he takes a few seconds to recalibrate and then he gets to work. Wipes your oozing cut with a winning apology, and then unclips the torch from his belt to shine at it assessingly. 

You keen when he shines it in your eyes. 

"Open your eyes, honey," he says, pet name a warmth that cuts through the creeping cold and lingering panic, "Wanna see if you're concussed." 

He finishes his assessment and bandages you up. It's a haphazard job and you don't have any disinfectant. "It'll be alright. I'll make it alright, we'll- we'll see how it heals, and we'll go looking for something if we need to. It's not too big."

Adrenaline rush is the worst crash. 

Exhausted, overwhelmed, Steve drops his face into the crook of your neck and pulls your face toward his carefully, kneeling between your open legs. You pull them up and lock him in with your knees, hurting all over. 

"That was so fucking scary," you say. 

He pats the back of your head. "Yeah. Yeah. It was." 

That's enough for a while. 

Every sound makes you jump. Steve disentangles from you only to search the sky for smoke, and he folds back into your arms with a relieved huff. "Fire to the east. It looks… I don't know. Far." 

"Maybe tonight we should just…freeze." 

He rubs his scratchy face into your neck. "We won't freeze." 

Steve insists you sleep between his legs. You swap places, and he crosses his arms over your tummy, hands tucked intertwined with his into your pockets. You don't have to ask who's sleeping first because it's always you, and you won't waste time. You turn your face away from his chest and kiss his bicep, or rather the coat and sweater and long sleeve tee that covers it. 

When he wakes you up in the twilight hours, it's with great news. 

"I think they gave up on us. I heard, uh, some friendly fire." 

"No way. They killed each other?" 

He grins at you. "I don't know for sure, but- it sounded like it. The campfire's out, too." 

Steve takes his turn to sleep. You wake him when the sun rises, and the next night you search the sky for smoke and find none. Whoever it is that's hunting for you, they've stopped. 

"I think we're more than safe to light a fire tonight. Which is awesome. I think my ass has hypothermia," Steve says, thigh to thigh with a handful of your knee.  

You beam, hand skirting dangerously low on his back. "Wan' me to check?" 

"Pervert. Finish your dinner." 

Dinner is half an apple and four big sips of water. With every jaw movement your new cut pulls. You can barely feel it, euphoric to be flirting with him, alive and well and warmed by a huge celebratory fire.

—

#steve zombie!au #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things 4 #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic