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#I’m excited to show this one it looks super cool !
stylesharrys · 5 hours
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The Box | Part Two [Boxerry]
Y/N and Harry find themselves on the run from the same people that killed Sam, and Y/N isn't sure how much more of this she can take. 
A/N: this is the final part of the series, still mad that it wouldn’t let me post it as one big fic but it is what it is. I’m working super hard on some new things for you guys and I’m excited to share them when they’re ready… but I do have a couple more old exclusive pieces I might share first :) 
Warnings: (in no particular order) mentions of death/loss of a sibling and grandparent, mentions of miscarriage, unsupportive parents, swearing, brief descriptions of illegal fighting, money laundering, use of weapons, brief mentions of alcohol, mentions of anxiety, schizophrenia and multiple personality disorder, smut; kissing, teasing, dirty talk, fingering, protected sex, oral (both receiving/69)
WC: 14.8k 
//
“Y/N, you forgot to sign off on meds.” 
With a very tired sigh, Y/N huffs to herself. She’s been like this all day, messing up here and there, forgetting things she wouldn’t ever usually forget. But that’s what happens when Y/N gets in her head. She makes mistakes and finds it difficult to think straight. 
She wouldn’t have this problem if she didn’t sleep with Harry. If he didn’t sneak out while she slept like she had told him to. But alas, here she is, unable to think about anything else other than the dull ache between her thighs where she craves him the most. 
She probably wouldn’t be this pent up if they spoke about it — or spoke at all in general. But they haven’t, not really. In the last two days, they’ve shared a total of six texts between them, and she doesn’t even have to look at her phone to remind herself of what they say. 
Harry: I left while you were sleeping, thought it would be best that way x
Y/N: yeah, I get it x
Y/N: I won’t be able to come to the club until Wednesday if that’s ok. Working late the next two days
Harry: no stress, come whenever u can x
Y/N: just to make you aware, Mary has started new medication for her diabetes x
Harry: cool, thank you x
The small conversation had been spread over 48 hours and Y/N isn’t sure how to feel about that. Is that a hint that she should take? That he’s not interested in it happening again, even though they alluded to another time when they were together? 
It’s the unknown that’s had her so worked up today. So much so that even now, fixing her mistake on the medication sheet, she somehow almost signs the wrong name off. 
Handing the pen back to Cynthia, Y/N finally grabs her bag and zips up her jacket to leave work. She doesn’t waste a second before opening the door and allowing the biting chill of the night's air to nip at the skin of her face. 
The idea of a steaming hot bath and a glass of white wine sits heavy in her mind as she makes for the car park, tries to think of the best way she can take her mind off Harry this evening. 
She supposes she could catch up with one of her shows, maybe even start the book she bought last week and still hasn’t got round to opening. 
A book, bath and a glass of wine is what she decides on — she might even be cheeky and order food in or pick something up on the way home. 
It’s only a few more steps to her car when she hears an engine turn on a few spaces from her. Headlights light up the dark, illuminating her way slightly and she squints. 
The late shift ended two hours ago and no one else is finishing or starting shift at this time of the night. She wonders if it’s just someone who lives locally that’s using their parking lot, but the harder she looks, the more unnerved she feels. 
Y/N recognises the three faces in the car — two in the front and one in the back. She remembers their intense gazes from the pub just a few nights ago; where Harry got extremely uptight about their presence — and now, they’re here, outside of her work, staring at her. 
That familiar feeling of fear settles heavy in her stomach and as if out of impulse, she begins to slow her speed and sifts through her purse, appearing as though she’s searching for her keys. 
She stops then, subtly pulls her phone out and turns around back toward the building of the care home, like she’s lost what she’s looking for. It’s when her back is completely toward the car and her feet slowly carry her back to the front door to not appear spooked, she’s dialling Harry’s number and bringing the phone to her ear. 
It only rings once and then he answers. 
“Hey,” his voice is light, happy. “I was just about to call you.” 
“Harry, I need you to pick me up from work.” The panic in her voice stirs something worrisome in Harry’s gut and his once airy tone is diminished. 
“Okay, I’m coming. What’s wrong, Penny? Are you okay?” 
“Those guys from the pub the other night are here. They’re in a car right by mine and I’m scared. I don’t know what to fucking do!” 
He’s swallowing down the bile that crawls up his throat, grabbing his keys from the table in the office as he stands. 
“Are you in your car?”
“No, I was walking out of work when I noticed them.”
“Go back inside and meet me out the back. Do not leave the building until I text you.”
“Can you please stay on the phone with me?” 
His heart clenches, hands balling into fists. He doesn’t say anything to anyone as he leaves the club, only a few of the guys training in the space. 
“Yeah, just keep talking to me. How many guys are in the car?” 
Y/N hears him start up his engine as she re-enters the building and rushes through the halls. “Three.” 
Harry doesn’t have to ask what they look like to know who they are. The anger that consumes him begins to shake his body, red slowly blurring his vision and he hasn’t driven this fast since the night of Sammy’s death. 
“Harry, who are they? Why did you get spooked at the pub when you saw them and why the fuck are they waiting outside my work?” 
He doesn’t answer her. “I’ll be two minutes, just stay inside.” 
She doesn’t like the way he dismisses her question, how she’s being left in the dark, purposefully. That fear begins to ache in her fingertips, heart racing against her ribcage and those familiar signs of a panic attack begin to make themselves apparent. 
“Har… I can’t breathe. I’m freaking the fuck out.” 
“Don’t,” he tells her, voice stern. “I’m coming around the corner. It’s gonna be fine…. I’m outside.” 
She pushes through the back door quickly, eyes frantically searching for his Chevy when she finally spots his headlights. Harry flashes them at her, leaning over to open the passenger door and Y/N’s quick to get inside and lock it shut behind her. 
The state she’s in makes Harry feel sick. Eyes like a deer in headlights, fear prominent in every feature. She turns to him with a wild look, swallowing thickly. 
Harry reaches for her hand and gives her a reassuring squeeze before reversing out of the narrow road and turning back around. 
“What the fuck is going on?” 
He keeps his eyes fixed on the road, ignoring her question until she calls his name again, much sterner this time. 
“Tell me what is going on.” 
He looks at her briefly, dragging his eyes back to the road again. This is not how he wanted it to go. He didn’t want her caught up in this mess and he didn’t want to have to be the one to explain Sammy’s death. Much less under these circumstances. 
“I’m going to take you back to my place and I’ll explain everything there, okay?” 
Y/N shakes her head profusely, tearing her hand from Harry’s hold as the panic refuses to subside. 
“No, that’s not okay. Harry, I can’t—“
“Penny! Stop. Do you trust me?” 
She blinks at him. “What?” 
“Do you trust me?” he repeats, accentuating every word. 
It’s not something she needs to think about. Maybe it’s a bit crazy, a bit premature, but she does trust him. With her life. 
She nods her head once. “I trust you.” 
Her words sit a little heavy in Harry’s chest. She trusts him. The confirmation of it doesn’t relax him like he thought it would. Because Sam trusted him, and Harry was too late. 
He’ll be damned if history repeats itself. 
“Then trust when I say I’ll explain everything when we get home. You’re safe with me, and I need you to calm down.” 
He knows it’s easier said than done but when he doesn’t hear Y/N complain, and he feels her relax into her seat the best she can, that heaviness sits a little lighter. 
“Okay.” 
The usual forty minute drive to Harry’s apartment takes just under twenty minutes. The roads are clear and Harry’s not ashamed to admit he stepped on the gas a little harder than usual. 
To him, this isn’t a time to take a leisurely drive and admire the night's view. Because if this is anything like before, it’s life or death and Harry won’t allow the latter. 
His flat is on the third floor of a fairly large complex. It’s stealth-like, how he guides her through the halls and into his flat. She takes it in for a few seconds. Clean, tidy, minimal. 
Like he can up and leave at any given moment if necessary. 
Harry throws his keys on the coffee table and rushes to the window, closing the blinds before wandering to the kitchen to do the same. A frown sits heavy between his brows and there’s something a bit erratic about him. 
The composure she had just moments before is quickly dwindling and soon enough, she’s back to panicking again. 
“Can you tell me what the fuck is going on now?” 
Harry chews on the inside of his cheek, hands on his hips as he looks at her. Neither of them really take into consideration that this is the first time they’ve seen each other since they slept together. 
And now is not a time to bring it up either. 
Harry huffs. “Look, those guys are bad news. Mentally fucking insane, okay? They had it out for Sam and now they’re after you.” 
Y/N stares at him, blinking her eyes wide. “Excuse me?” 
He doesn’t want to tell her, can't stomach the idea of it, but Harry knows he doesn’t have a choice. He can’t keep her in the dark about her brother forever. And now that the same people are after her, she deserves to know the truth. 
“Sam wasn’t always this great guy, Penny. He had a dark side and they were a part of it.” 
The mention of her late brother makes her heart twist. Her chest begins to rattle as she tries to take in his words. To understand what he’s trying to get at. 
“What are you trying to say?” She poses the question carefully, not wanting to read the situation wrong. 
A look of softness flashes across Harry’s face as he takes a step closer. “Sammy’s death wasn’t an accident,” he begins, “Those guys ran him off the road and killed him.”
It’s all too much and everything starts caving in on her. Y/N can hardly breathe, can barely even see. There’s a drumming in her head that deafens her, a haze in her eyes that blinds her. 
Her brother didn’t pass away. He was taken — his soul torn from his body before he was ready to go, and Y/N can’t stomach that. Can’t handle the truth of what Harry’s told her. 
How is she supposed to live her life now? Knowing her brother was murdered. Knowing they are the reason for it. 
“Why?” she cries through laboured breaths. 
“Sam owed them money.”
“How much?” 
There’s a pause, and then… “Thirty grand.” 
She��s completely exasperated, struggling to comprehend anything he’s saying. Was thirty grand really worth his life? 
“He was late in paying them,” Harry continues. “We had Feds on our backs watching the club and all of our transactions, we couldn’t risk it.” 
Y/N looks at him, brows pinched tightly as she struggles to see through the onslaught of tears. “So he just refused?” 
Harry shakes his head. “No, not at first. But then they uh… they went after this girl he’d been seeing—“
“—Amira?”
Harry nods. “They tried scaring her, to give Sam a message. They roughed her up — Penny…” he pauses, like he’s preparing himself to say what he needs to, and just when Y/N thinks it couldn’t get worse, it does, “She was pregnant. And she lost the baby because of it.” 
Harry doesn’t give her time to properly process his words, figures it’ll be best to rip most of the bandaid off at once rather than in small increments. 
“Sam lost his shit, told them that they’ll never see their money and that he was after them. One night, they showed up at the club and all Hell broke loose. They ran, we followed — Sam in one car and me in another.” 
The way his voice begins to dwindle with every passing word makes Y/N’s stomach sink. Like she knows what he’s leading up to, that he’s about to divulge the traumatic truth of her brother's death. 
She doesn’t want to know, doesn’t want to hear what will haunt her for the rest of her life. But her heart needs the truth — needs to understand what happened to him, needs revenge. 
“Sam was always a better driver; faster,” he croaks, and he falls silent for a second or two until he speaks again with a broken voice. “I heard the sound the same time I turned the corner — his car had flipped and was wrapped around a telephone pole. And they were gone.” 
Her heart is in her stomach, a numbing pain searing through her veins. Pain for Amira and their baby, pain for Sam, pain for herself. But with the pain comes anger. Anger toward the men that killed him. Anger toward the fact that Harry’s always had this knowledge of Sam’s death and didn’t say anything until now, when he felt he had to. 
“You’ve known this whole time.”
There’s little to no emotion in her voice, and the blank expression in her eyes begins to unnerve Harry slightly. 
“I’m sorry,” he apologises, “I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“So you just weren't going to tell me at all?” 
Harry’s growing frustrated but he knows he has no right. He kept this secret from her, he chose to protect her from the truth and is only now realising the consequences of that decision. 
“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “You can hate me all you want but right now, we need to get out of here.” 
A slither of confusion cracks through that empty facade as she takes in the desperation of his voice. Like she’s only now just remembering the severity of the situation they’re in. 
“What?” 
“It’s a matter of time before they check your place, check mine and then riot the club. They didn’t just stop after Sam. They’re trying to take over The Box and that includes getting rid of you and I.”
That all consuming panic is quick to surge through her body, chest rising and falling rapidly as the anger subsides to fear. 
“So… so we need to leave town.” 
He nods slowly at her shaky words, allowing her to take the lead as much as she can so she doesn't feel forced. Y/N scratches at her forehead, keeps her eyes on the ground below her. 
“Okay. Uh… I take it we can’t go back to my place. Can I, like, borrow some clothes or something?” 
“Yeah,” Harry breathes. “I’ll pack a bag now, you should probably call work, tell them there’s a family emergency and you won’t be in for a few days.” 
He leaves her for a few minutes, rushing off to pack a bag in his bedroom. Y/N’s fumbling to type a text to her manager, struggles to keep the tears at bay. 
It’s all too much. It’s one thing to find out her brother was murdered, but to hear the same people that killed him are after her and Harry now? She feels like she can’t breathe. 
//
“Hi, d’you have any more rooms available for the night?” 
He’s softly tapping his finger on the reception desk, eyes on Y/N as he speaks and she’s full of the jitters. 
Harry sped their way to the next town over, pulling into the first motel they came across. She was silent for the majority of the drive, too in her head to offer a coherent conversation but Harry understood, so he didn’t press it. 
And she’s the same now, curled into herself as Harry hands over enough cash to pay for their room for tonight, and lugs the bags in his hands with the room key, making toward the elevator. 
“I’m sorry I kept the truth from you, I didn’t want to taint your memories of him.” He breaks the silence as the door closes and they’re carried higher through the building. 
“That wasn’t for you to decide.”
It’s quiet but he hears her, loud and clear. Harry hates that he’s made her feel this way – that he’s gotten her mixed up in this shitshow. He’s guilty, blames himself for everything that happened to Sam, everything that’s now happening to her.
“I’m sorry,” she squeaks out. 
He looks down at her, brows pinched as she gazes up at him through fluttering lashes and hooded eyes, “What for?” 
“None of this is your fault, I know you were only trying to protect me from the truth. Don’t do that again.” 
Harry nods curtly as the doors open and he leads them down the hall in search of their room for the night. He unlocks it, flicks on the lights and lets Y/N walk through first. 
It’s nothing special, just a standard cheap hotel room, but what does catch Y/N’s eye is the bed. Just the one. And she’s reminded of the last time she saw him, when he was in her bedroom, fucking the life out of her. Despite the circumstances, she’s not opposed to sharing a bed – it might make her feel a little safer – but they’ve not discussed their previous meet-up and she doesn’t know what to make of it. 
Harry notices how her gaze stays fixated on the bed and heat rises to his cheeks. “I’ll take the sofa.”
Y/N turns to him, brows pinched. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re not exactly strangers, Harry. We’ve literally had sex together — I think we’re past the formalities.” 
The bluntness of her words has Harry’s eyes widening. His lips part in shock at how brazen she appears about their hook-up. Harry had begun to think she regretted it, and that was why she didn’t bring it up. 
Clearly, he’s been sorely mistaken. He thinks. 
He clears his throat, forcing a cough. “Right.” 
He plants the bag on the sofa and retrieves a pair of boxer shorts and an old t-shirt, handing them both to Y/N. She takes them, guides herself to the bathroom and shuts the door. 
It takes Harry a few seconds to regulate his breathing — to get a grip on his emotions and the numbing fear that rattles his body. The whole ordeal is a bit too triggering for him — like he’s potentially going to relive his best friend's death through Y/N. 
He doesn’t know what scares him more. What could happen to her or the lengths he’ll go to to protect her. Either thought is too much to process, so instead he lets his mind wonder about the other situation at hand. 
She’s about to get into bed with him, wearing his clothes, after they hooked up a couple of days ago and are yet to discuss what the hell it means for them. 
And Harry’s aware that it’s definitely not an appropriate time to be thinking about it, but he is. Because he hasn’t been able to stop since it happened. 
He’s torn from his thoughts when the bathroom door opens and Y/N creeps into the bedroom. His heart is lodged in his throat at the sight. His clothes are too big for her and her legs look incredibly soft and smooth, the hem of his t-shirt barely covering her bum. 
“There’s a spare toothbrush on the side. Bathroom’s all yours.” 
There’s not much emotion in her voice now, and Harry can tell from her puffy eyes that she’s been crying behind that bathroom door. His heart cracks a little but he doesn’t say anything. 
Instead he uses the bathroom, strips into a pair of boxers (hoping Y/N won’t mind as he didn’t pack a whole lot of clothes), and brushes his teeth before joining her in the hotel room again. 
She’s under the covers now, only his bedside lamp on and Harry’s heart starts to thump. It’s been a while since he’s laid in bed with someone without something happening. 
Nevertheless, he crawls in beside her and flicks off the light. He keeps a respectable distance between them but still close enough to make out the shadows of her face. That’s when he hears it, the soft sniffles and shaky breath. 
A sigh escapes his lips as he shuffles closer with arms outstretched. He half expects her to push him away, tell him no, she’s still angry with him, but she doesn’t. She coddles herself into his chest instead and lets him hold her — comfort her. 
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Penny. I promise.”
And while she appreciates the reassuring words, it doesn’t do much to soothe her fear and anxiety. Nothing could make her feel safe right now — not even Harry’s warm and strong body keeping her close. Not completely safe, anyway. Not now that she knows the truth. 
What she thinks she needs is a distraction. Something to make her forget, even just for a short while. So it’s not really a surprise to her when she finds herself pulling out of Harry’s hold just enough to crane her neck up to look at him. 
He’s already gazing down at her, eyes as dark as the night. With softly puckered lips, Y/N leans up just enough to press a gentle kiss against his mouth. 
It surprises Harry, if he’s honest. He never would’ve taken her for someone to initiate things first, but he has to remind himself that she’s the type of girl to go after what she wants, and she was the one to initiate things last time. 
He kisses her back just as softly, lips moulding to hers as they both lay on their sides, Y/N lifting her leg to wrap it around Harry’s waist. 
It’s a bold hint that Harry gets, and he pulls away slowly to get a look at her, to search for a single shred of doubt or hesitation. When he falls short, he noses at her temple. 
“It’s probably not a good idea tonight,” he breathes, trying desperately to ignore the way his cock lunges. “Your emotions are really heightened right now. I don’t want you to regret it in the morning.” 
She shakes her head. “I won’t. I didn’t regret it last time,” she tells him, “I just need to forget for a little while.”
Harry swallows thickly. So she doesn’t regret it. And she wants it to happen again, right now, to forget. 
“I uh,” he clears his throat, “I don’t have anything — I don’t have a condom with me.” 
Y/N blinks, lips parting. The idea of not using one does cross both of their minds but they’re smarter than that. 
Her hand reaches between their bodies, fingertips grazing across the throbbing length of Harry’s hard cock beneath his boxers. 
“We can do other stuff, can’t we?” 
Her voice is a sensual whisper and it makes his head spin. She’s compelling, everything about her. So he’s not very shocked when he finds himself nodding his head and leaning down to greet her in a kiss again. 
Y/N palms at his clothed cock, hips gently rocking as she tries to get closer. This is what she needs. Him. Anything he’ll give her to make her forget what life is like right now — what she’s running from. 
Harry’s hand cups the side of her jaw, kissing her a little harder. Her spare hand reaches for his wrist to move it away, guides it down their bodies and between her legs until he’s cupping her aching heat through (his) boxers. 
“Are you sure?” 
She squeezes his cock, dipping her fingers into the waistband of his underwear. “Touch me, Har. Need it so bad.” 
He swallows thickly, palming at her heat as a shuddered moan slips from her lips and into his mouth. She wraps her cool fingers around his shift, a hiss sounding from the back of his throat. 
“Need to forget everything, H. Just want you.” 
The neediness in her voice sends him spiralling, latching his mouth to hers with as much force as he can muster. The kiss is messy, dirty — all tongue and teeth and Y/N thinks it’s the hottest thing she’s ever experienced. 
Her hand begins to bob on his cock, long strokes and as she reaches his tip, small beads of precum coat her fingers, smearing across his length. He seethes, a hum soon following as he tries to stay quiet. 
But Y/N doesn’t want him to be quiet. She wants to hear him, how she’s making him feel. 
She pumps a little faster, grip a little tighter. Harry’s sneaking his fingers into the boxers she’s wearing, swirling his fingers between her folds and she’s soaked — almost dripping, really. 
“Jesus Christ, Penny. You’re fucking soaked.” 
She moans into his mouth, bucking her hips against his hand. “I told you not to call me that,” she pants. 
“M’sorry, baby.”
She nods against the kiss. “Yeah, that’s better.”
A breathily laugh escapes Harry’s mouth, his finger prodding at her fluttering hole. She’s eager for him, desperate. Just wants to feel full of him — of whatever he can give her. 
He continues to tease her, thumb on her clit while she lazily tugs at his cock. It’s not enough for her, the gentle touches, she wants her brain turned to mush so she has no choice but to not think. 
Maybe that’s why she shuffles her position beside him until she’s kneeling by his hips and tugging his cock free from the confinements of his boxers.
Harry watches with hooded eyes as she leans down to press a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to his leaking tip. His head falls back against the pillows, chest rising and falling rapidly as she works her warm mouth on his cock. 
He keeps his hand between her thighs, fingers pinching delicately at her puffy clit, a little too fucked on the feeling of her moaning around him. 
Y/N licks messily from the base to the head, swirling her tongue across his slit before taking him into her mouth. She doesn’t mess about with it, takes as much as she can at once and lets him hit at the back of her throat. 
A gruff moan escapes Harry’s lips as she gags around him, spluttering profusely as strings of saliva dribble from the corners of her mouth. 
He reaches his spare hand down for her head, tugging at the roots of her hair to get her attention. “Turn around,” he breathes heavily. 
She pulls off him, brows pinched. “What?” 
“I wanna taste you at the same time,” he gulps. “Turn around.” 
His hand leaves her head, reaching for the boxers on her waist to tug them down while the other continues its assault on her dripping cunt. He relents for a moment to tug the underwear down her thighs and past her ankles, throwing them across the room and helping situate her above his face. 
She lets out a squeak at his eagerness, nose bumping the tip of his cock but Harry doesn’t care. Her cunt hovers over him, soaked and puffy and a quiet moan slips from his lips at the sight.
With his hands on her hips, he eases her down to latch his mouth around her cunt, slurping at her wetness as he’s finally awarded a taste of her. And he’s hooked. Completely fucked out. She’s sweeter than anything he’s ever had before and he’ll be devastated if she never allows him a taste again. 
Y/N covers him with her mouth, suckling as much as she can fit and bobbing her head with every stroke her tongue offers to the underside of his cock. They’re both messy and sloppy with their actions, eager and desperate for a release.
The hotel room will no doubt stink of sex for days after, but neither of them care. They can barely think straight as it is. 
Harry can’t get over the taste of her, wants it staining his tongue for the rest of his life. He reaches a finger down to probe at her hole, pushing in with ease as she clenches around him. 
Y/N lets out a muffled moan around his cock, the sound sending vibrations through Harry’s body which makes him twitch against her tongue. 
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he mumbles against her cunt, finger curling before he adds a second one and fucks them into her. 
Her thighs are trembling from the sides of his head, locking him in slightly to stop him trying to move away. Y/N takes him deeper into her mouth, relaxing her jaw and Harry takes the hint to start bucking his hips into her. 
It’s filthy, the noises she makes, the way his cock jabs at the back of her throat. Her pussy grips his fingers like a vice, walls fluttering and he knows she’s close. With his spare hand, Harry strikes a smack to her ass, pawing at the fleshy skin before spanking her again. 
She’s positively dripping into his mouth, her body so worked up that she can barely keep consciousness. Her eyes are stinging with tears as he thrusts harsher, effectively restricting her air supply as he does so. 
But she’s never been so turned on in her life. Sixty-nine-ing with Harry in the pitch dark. 
“Fuck! Baby, I’m gonna come.” 
He expects her to pull off him, but she doesn’t. Instead, Y/N forces her mouth further down and sucks, hand reaching between his thighs to massage his balls. 
He’s crying out her name as he releases, spurts of warm come shooting down her throat as her own orgasm rakes through her body. 
Harry laps it up the best he can, cock still buried down her throat as she comes around his fingers and drips into his mouth. She’s begging for him, whining his name as he removes his fingers and sucks them dry. 
She can feel him soften against her tongue, and with as much energy as she can muster up, she pulls off him with a heavy breath. 
“Y’okay?” 
She hums, a little floaty if she’s honest but it worked. It made her forget and now all she wants to do is sleep. 
“Mhm, thank you.”
Harry grins tiredly to himself, helping her off his chest and to lay back beside him. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and plants a gentle kiss to her forehead. 
“Let me get you some water.” 
Y/N watches him through bleary eyes as his cute, naked bum moves over to the desk across the room. He comes back, soft length still impressive, and hands the bottle to her with the cap undone. 
“Here, take a sip,” he guides the bottle to her lips and encourages her to drink before taking a swig for himself. 
Harry climbs into the bed beside her, arms outstretched and she’s quick to nuzzle into his hold. He strokes the hair from her face, keeping her close. 
“Get some sleep. I promise I’ll still be here in the morning.” 
//
Rustling from outside the hotel room is what stirs Harry awake. He’s groggy as he blinks away the sleep, arms aching from Y/N’s head as she lays cuddled up to his chest.
His heart swells for a moment at the sight of her — and then he hears it again, the noise. There’s whispers and footsteps padding outside the door, three voices.
He’s careful when he stands, not wanting to wake Y/N if he’s just overreacting. But when he levels his eyes with the peephole of the door, his flight or fight kicks in and his heart thumps in his ears.
Harry pulls away from the peephole quickly, back against the door as he tries to remain as silent as humanly possible. Y/N stirs in the bed, reaching out for him but he’s not there to cuddle again.
Her eyes flutter open, brows furrowed as she slowly lifts her head from the pillow in search of him. That’s where she spots him, against the door with a bewildered look in his eyes.
Her mouth opens to speak, but she quickly shuts it when Harry brings a finger to his lips, signalling her to stay quiet. Her heart begins to thump again, bile in her throat and she’s frozen on the bed, sheets clutched close to her naked body.
“Let’s try upstairs,” he hears Ryce say, “They’re not on this floor.”
Harry waits a moment before turning his body to peek through the peephole again. They’re slowly sauntering off down the hall, clicking the button for the elevator and stepping inside shortly after. He turns back to Y/N, chest heaving and eyes wide.
“Penny, get dressed. We need to leave, now.”
It’s a rush, to get dressed and throw everything haphazardly into Harry’s backpack. Their hearts patter wildly, breathing ragged as fear consumes the pair of them.
It’s frantic, how he looks at her, keeping her behind his back as he slowly opens the door to peek his head out. He scans the hall, straining his ears for any sound of movement and when he falls short, he very quickly and quietly tugs her out of the hotel room.
Harry leads them to the staircase, trainers skidding across the linoleum floors with every step they jump down.
“They found us, didn’t they?” she asks through laboured breaths.
He doesn’t reply, instead tightens his hold on her hand and forces her to move quicker, taking three steps at a time instead of two and she struggles to keep up with his long strides.
Harry pushes through the door of the stairs, not slowing as they race through reception and out into the cool air of the early morning. It’s then that they break into a sprint across the parking lot to reach Harry’s Chevy.
Then they hear footsteps, the door of the hotel building slamming shut. Harry throws a glance over his shoulder, catching sight of the three lunatics that are after them.
They’re slowly approaching, picking up their pace as Harry and Y/N get closer to the car. He unlocks it from a distance and throws the backpack to Y/N.
He turns to her, finger pointing in her face. “Lock yourself in the car. If they get the upper hand, you drive and you don’t look back.”
The look on his face scares her, rattles her to her core. She tries to shake her head but Harry’s shoving the keys in the palm of her hand and pushing her closer to the vehicle.
The three of them grab him at once; Ryce and Scott holding him by the arms and shoulders as the bigger man, George, throws punches against his stomach. The sight of it makes her sick, has her knees buckling and heart aching.
Nimble fingers struggle to open the car, brain fuzzy as she rushes to throw the bags in the back seats. Y/N shuts the door behind her, locking the car again as her chest rises and falls with every shaky break she takes.
It’s torture, watching as they beat him – the way they pin his arms back and take advantage of his inability to fight back. He takes every hit and punch like a man, doesn’t allow his guard to falter no matter how hard the strikes may hurt.
And it’s like they see that, too. Like they notice it’ll take a lot more than a few blows to ruin him. Maybe that’s why George relents his assault for a moment and fixes his gaze to the car – to Y/N, cowering in the backseats like a lamb ready for slaughter.
And it’s when he slowly begins to stalk toward her that Harry’s heart begins to thump a little too hard. It’s when George starts to bash his hands against the backseat window that he starts to burn a fueling fire of rage.
He struggles against the hold that Scott and Ryce have over him, unable to tear his arms out of reach. Until he hears her scream and the backseat window smashing.
Y/N can’t breathe, heart lodged in her throat and tears stinging at her vision. She watches completely frozen as George reaches his hand in and unlocks the door. Watches the sadistic smirk that plasters across his lips as he opens the door and reaches for her ankles.
“No! Get off of me!”
Her screams are futile, her body breaking into hysterical movements. Her legs kick harshly at his grabbing hands, her foot striking his throat which allows her barely a few seconds to search for something, anything.
Y/N’s eyes avert to the footwell of the passenger's seat when she sees it. A crowbar. Her fingers wrap around the metal at the same time George’s wrap around her ankles. She’s pulled from the backseats, back crashing onto the concrete of the parking lot. And in one swift motion, her arm swings forward and the curve of the bar wraps around the side of George’s head.
In an instant, his heavy build falls off her – collapsing onto his side. She waits for a beat, her eyes wide and searching for any sign of life. There’s no blood, no sound. Tentatively and with trembling hands, she leans closer to his still body and poises her fingers beneath his nose.
One breath. Two, three.
She clambers away from him with a deep breath, unsteady as she rises to her feet. She’s allowed no time to process the situation, to calm herself. Because right before her eyes, Harry is fighting for his freedom.
This time, Ryce has Harry’s arms pinned behind his back, looping with his own and Scott delivers much harder blows to Harry’s face and torso. His legs kick out, arms thrashing in Ryce’s hold but it doesn’t do much damage.
Tightening her grasp around the crowbar, Y/N doesn’t quite know what comes over her. Whether it’s fear, anger or something entirely different. Whatever it is, compels her to swing the crowbar across the backs of Ryce’s legs – the shock and force of the blow buckling his knees just enough for his hold on Harry to relent.
Y/N doesn’t give him time to turn before she jumps onto his back with her legs around his waist and the crowbar wrapped around his throat. Her body moulds to his like a bear hug, an unknown strength unleashing itself in a desperate attempt to keep him from Harry just long enough to regain his strength.
And Harry doesn’t waste a moment of the opportunity. His fist beats against Scott’s face in rhythmic blows until his body is on the ground and he can’t fight back. Harry’s knuckles stain with blood and grazes, delivering a final pinch to the bridge of Scott’s nose before climbing off his bruised body.
His chest heaves, every breath feeling as though it tears his lungs. Harry spits the build up of blood in his mouth on the floor, rolling his shoulders back and flexing his fingers before they return to their fisted state.
Ryce is red in the face, fingers wrapping around the crowbar that Y/N pulls against his throat. The anger in her face is starling to Harry, something he’s never seen before — not even in himself. A hatred so pure it could kill.
Harry approaches them quickly as Ryce throws back his elbow and it meets with the side of Y/N’s stomach. All at once, her hold on the crowbar and him falters and she’s sliding off his back and doubling over on the concrete.
Ryce throws a punch but Harry is quick to dodge, despite the fact he’s still attempting to catch his breath. Before he rises, he reaches for the crowbar and swings it against the side of Ryce’s body.
He seethes out in pain, struggles to stand straight to fight back. He messily throws his fist, easier for Harry to dodge this time and he returns it with another blow across his knees with the crowbar.
Harry throws it to the side, watching with heavy breaths as Ryce tries to steady himself again. Harry doesn’t give him the chance. He squares his fist against the side of his face and he pummels to the ground.
It’s silent for a moment, aside from Harry’s rapid breathing and Y/N’s soft whimpers as she clutches her stomach and steadies herself on her feet again.
Harry backs away from the mess they’ve created, guilt crawling up his throat as he turns to look at her. There’s a cold expression painted across her face, eyes void of anything other than a predatory gaze.
She’s got the look of someone who’s desperate to survive. That’s what this is now, sink or swim. And she knows it.
They don’t share any words, just a look. But that’s all that’s needed. That one look says everything. They’re in this together — it’s them against anyone who tries it.
It’s silent as they both get into the car, Harry picking his keys up from the floor before he starts the engine.
It’s silent when they pull out of the car park, the sound of the cold air whipping through the shattered window in the backseats.
It’s silent until Y/N finally speaks. “Where are we going?”
Harry waits a beat, eyes focussed on the road. He can’t bring himself to look at her, to be faced with her expressionless gaze again. So he looks forward, grips the wheel and clears his throat.
“To see an old friend.”
//
His body is beginning to hurt as he pulls into the familiar garage. It’s been a while since Harry’s been here and everything looks the exact same as it did last time.
He kills the engine, lets his hands slip from the wheel and he finally turns to Y/N, who’s already looking at him. She takes him in, properly. The cuts and bruises that begin to form on his soft skin, the bags that protrude under his eyes from lack of sleep and a couple of punches he caught.
It hurts her heart to no end. She wishes none of this was happening.
“Are you okay?” he finally speaks, voice soft.
She nods, but they both know she’s not. Not really.
“Are you?”
He huffs out a small laugh and reaches for her hand that sits in her lap. “I’ve been better.”
She doesn’t understand it — how he always has the energy to try to make light out of any situation. Y/N looks away briefly, taking in the surroundings of the garage.
It’s like any other she’s been to. A few old cars spread across the place, some that are very clearly undrivable and others that she thinks probably only needed a quick fix.
Her brows pinch when she thinks about why they’re here. Is a blown back window really what’s important right now? She looks back to Harry with parted lips, but he already knows what she’s going to say.
“It’s my friend's garage. He’ll be able to help with more than just a smashed window.”
Y/N nods curtly, unsure if she’s understanding what he’s letting on. She also doesn’t have any suggestions as to what the fuck else they could do to help them out of this situation, so she puts all her trust in him and this unknown friend, and prays that her brother will keep them as safe as he can.
Her eyes look forward again, noticing a man and woman emerging from a wide door to the left. She looks back to Harry, a smile on his face as he opens the door and clambers out.
Y/N follows suit, shrinking into herself a little as the two unfamiliar faces grow closer.
“No call?” the man speaks loudly, arms across his chest.
Harry shrugs, walking closer. “No time.”
A smile breaks across the man’s face as he and Harry meet in a brotherly embrace. They’re squeezing tight, smacking each other’s backs until the man pulls away and gets a look at his friends face.
“Christ, H… did you even get a hit in?”
Harry smacks him in the chest and moves slightly to greet the woman. “Hey, Ashley. How’ve you been?”
She offers him a small hug and smiles. “Better than you it appears.”
Harry pulls away with a seemingly shy smile, turning back to Y/N who remains hovering by the Chevy. He points to her with an open palm. “Penny, this is Ashley and Jimmy. Guys, this is Y/N… Sammy’s sister.”
A heavy silence falls upon the shop – so quiet they’d be able to hear a pin drop. She offers a half wave, pursed lips and teary eyes. Harry is quick to make his way by her side again, an arm wrapped loosely around her waist to offer some form of reassurance.
“Jimmy and Sam used to knock about together,” he tells her. “Jim’s actually the one that found the club and convinced Sammy to take it on.”
He offers a polite smile and wave but there’s nothing but pity in his eyes. “I’m sorry for your loss. Sam was a one-of-a-kind kid.”
She nods, doesn’t want to reminisce on her late brother. Not right now. Not after the morning they’ve had.
Harry clears his throat and scratches at the nape of his neck. “M’sorry to throw it on you guys, but d’you mind if we crash for the night? We’re in a bit of a mess right now.”
There’s no hesitation when both Jimmy and Ashley nod their heads. “Of course, stay as long as you need. Come on upstairs, I’m just about to fix up some lunch, you guys can get cleaned up.”
Harry follows them through the garage, hand on Y/N’s lower back to guide her through. She stays close to him, far too on edge to be as trusting as Harry. She has to remind herself that they were also Sammy’s friends. And he didn’t put his trust in just anybody.
“Thank you, I promise we’ll be out of your hair by morning.”
Their apartment above the garage is nice. It’s rustic and chic at the same time and Y/N finds herself drawn to the canvases that litter the walls in the hall and living room.
Jimmy seems to notice. “They’re Ash’s,” he says with a smile. “She’s a wicked artist.”
Y/N hums, a small smile painting its way on her own lips. She’s desperately trying to ignore the dull ache in the side of her stomach, tries to play it off like every breath isn’t hindering her in some small way.
They follow through to the kitchen, the same sort of vibe with a wooden kitchen island and black, steel stools. Harry guides her to take a seat and sits himself beside her, both watching Ash as she pours them each a cup of coffee.
“Did the Chevy take as much damage as you?”
Harry scoffs out a laugh and takes a sip of his drink. “Still as mouthy as ever,” he quips back. “But no, she’s just fine – apart from the back window. That got smashed to fuck.”
Y/N watches them back and forth, how they talk with such ease, like the past twelve hours didn’t happen. It has her head spinning, has her second-guessing that Harry isn’t taking this as seriously as he made her believe.
She stands abruptly from her stool, the steel screeching across the hardwood floors. All eyes fall on her and she gulps. “Can I use your bathroom?”
Ashley nods, pointing to the door just down the hall. Y/N mumbles a quiet ‘thanks’ before rushing off and pressing her back behind the locked door.
She just needs a moment. A moment to think and breathe. This is all way too much for her to handle right now and she’s never felt so alone in her entire life. It hurts her heart, her head – everything. Tears are stinging at her waterline, threatening to spill over but she wills them not to.
A small knock on the door is heard and then… “Penny? It’s me.”
Y/N swallows down her feelings and unlocks the door. Harry lets himself in; worrisome eyes and tender hands on her arms as he closes the door behind him.
“Y’okay? I know this is all probably scaring you.”
She stares at him blankly. “Scaring me? Harry, I’m fucking terrified and you’re out there laughing without a care in the world, having a catchup with an old friend, while I’m just silently freaking the fuck out.”
He coos her, pulls her into his chest and ignores the pain he feels as he holds her close. “M’sorry, m’just trying to forget about it all for a moment. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, I swear.”
Her breathing is erratic against his chest, hands balling fists of his shirt on his back. Harry strokes the hair from her face and kisses her temple, shushing her the best he can to try and encourage her to steady her breathing.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbles into him.
Harry shakes his head. “You’ve got nothing to apologise for. Why don’t you go for a nap, hmm? Jimmy’s gonna take a look at the damage on the window and I’m gonna talk him through everything that’s happened… see if he has any ideas.”
While a nap does sound good, Y/N’s not sure she’ll be able to switch her mind off. She doesn’t tell Harry that, though. She figures he’s also got enough on his mind, he doesn’t need to be dealing with her fussing all because she can’t sleep.
So she nods her head and pulls out of his embrace. “Yeah, okay. A nap sounds good.”
//
It turns out it wasn’t as hard to fall asleep as Y/N thought it would be. As it goes, severe stress and exhaustion happen to have that effect when the adrenaline wears off.
Ashley was kind enough to lend Y/N a spare top and some sweatpants, washing her previous clothes so they would be clean and dry for when they leave tomorrow. She stretches in the bed of the guestroom, eyes flickering to the clock that reads 17:08 and her eyes widen.
She didn’t expect for a little nap to turn into five hours of sleep and she’s slightly upset that Harry didn’t think to wake her. Her stomach grumbles and it’s only now that she realises she hasn’t eaten in just over twenty-four hours.
Her fluffy sock-clad feet carry her out into the hall, light chit-chat coming from the very end and she follows to the source of it.
They all sit at the kitchen island; Jimmy, Ashley and Harry. There’s a frown set between each of their eyebrows but Harry’s soothes out when he notices Y/N’s lingering presence by the doorway.
“Hey, are you feeling any better?”
She hums. “A little.”
He pulls out a chair for her to take, Jimmy and Ashley quietly talking between themselves as Y/N sits with them. Harry offers her his drink and she takes the glass in her hands, swirling the brown liquid as she brings it to her lips.
“It’s whis—“
She gulps down his drink before he can even finish — doesn’t even care what it is just that any drop of alcohol will do for now.
He stifles a laugh and takes back the empty glass, reaching for the bottle on the middle of the table to refill his drink.
“What are you talking about?” she asks, all eyes now on her.
Harry clears his throat. “Just trying to figure out how to get rid of the guys that are after us.”
She raises a brow, somewhat expectant. “Any luck?”
“No, not yet.” She hears a voice, her eyes following the sound to Harry’s phone that’s on the kitchen island, Niall’s contact on the screen.
“Oh,” she peeps quietly. “Hi, Niall.”
“Hey, Y/N. How are you holding up?”
She scoffs. “About as well as Bambi on ice.”
He laughs at her comment, a hearty one at that. Harry smiles softly at her, can feel the nerves and anxiety bubbling off her aura in waves. It hurts to see her like this, so curled into herself and scared.
“So, let’s lay it all out again,” Ashley speaks a little louder.
Harry and Jimmy lean forward in their seats simultaneously. “As far as we’re aware, it’s just the three of them; the brothers—“
“—Wait, they’re brothers?” Y/N pipes up with knitted brows.
Harry nods. “Mhm. A lot of the guys that train at The Box were in gangs, the Scavello brothers were rivals to a bunch of them. They’ve all got screws loose, multiple personality disorders.”
“And schizophrenia. The worst case of it.” Niall chips in.
The newfound information does nothing to cease her fears. If anything, it only intensifies tenfold and Y/N begins to find it difficult to breathe.
“Right,” Harry swallows thickly. “So it’s the three brothers, all hellbent on getting revenge for Sammy not paying them they’re thirty grand. We already know they won’t stop until they get the club or feel… satisfied enough to move on.”
There’s something about the way Harry words it that makes Y/N shiver. She doesn’t know how much longer of this she can take, how much more dangerous it’ll get. At what point will they feel satisfied? When they’re run out of town? When they’re beaten and bloody? When they’re six feet under like her brother?
“They’re known for a lot of shady shit, too. Few years ago Ryce had stabbed someone in a pub… pretty sure he’s still on the wanted list.” Niall speaks again, like that’s the worst thing they’ve ever done.
Y/N has to bite her tongue. She doesn’t know if they’re aware of the truth about Sam’s death. And if they’re not, she isn’t about to announce it. She won’t allow for him to be remembered as the guy they killed.
Not now. Not ever.
“So have you not thought about tipping off the police?” Ashley asks, slightly incredulous as if it’s the most obvious option there is. (Which in all honesty, Y/N completely agrees with).
But Jimmy shakes his head profusely, clasping his hands together on the kitchen island. “No, no way. The Feds are already suspecting the club of illegal activity. It’s just going to give them more ammo. This needs to be dealt with in-house.” He points his finger downward, tapping against the counter.
Y/N chews on the inside of her cheek, the gears ticking in her head as she thinks of an alternative idea.
“What about a set up?” she suggests. “We meet them somewhere and… Ash, maybe you could call in and say you’ve driven past a group of guys attacking a couple…. If they get arrested it could give us some time to figure out something more solid?”
She knows it’s a lame idea, but it’s something. No one else seems to be putting theories to the table.
And of course, Harry is the first to shake his head. “No, too dangerous and they won’t fall for that. They’re insane but they’re not stupid.”
She slumps at his words, slightly offended by his tone but she doesn’t let herself get into that. Really, Harry’s distaste to her idea is the least of anyone’s concerns right now.
All eyes fall on the phone in the centre of the table, “Any ideas, Ni?”
He’s silent for a moment, then a huff is heard. “Personally, I think the best option will be to come back to the club. They’re gonna riot at some point. Might aswel be prepared for it. We’ll get the boys in tomorrow and figure out a plan between the lot of us.”
It’s a bit annoying that the simplest of ideas doesn’t suck. That logically, it’s probably the smartest and safest move to make. Because Niall is right. Eventually, the brothers will riot the club, and what the fuck are three psychos against a gym full of angry boxers?
The doorbell sounds through the kitchen and pulls Y/N from her thoughts. Jimmy stands, legs of his stool scratching against the floor as he grabs his wallet from his back pocket.
“Let’s call it a night then. Pizzas here. We’ll regroup tomorrow.”
The mention of food almost has Y/N’s mouth watering. They say their goodbyes to Niall, no one’s stress easing in the slightest but at least they have somewhat of a plan and she doesn’t feel so alone anymore.
Those boys at the gym would fight tooth and nail to protect Sam’s legacy. She just prays that it’ll be enough.
Not much is said as they eat their dinner. Harry and Jimmy reminisce on a few memories with Ash chiming in here and there, but for the most part Y/N stays silent and focuses on her food.
They stay like that for another hour or so until Harry’s eyelids grow heavy and start to sting. He’s exhausted, to say the least. His body still aches and as he glances over at Y/N, he can tell that the five hour nap has only made her more tired.
He leans closer to her, lips ghosting her ear. “D’you wanna go to bed?”
She turns her head just slightly to get a look at him. His face is a lot more busted as the night has gone on and the sleepiness that takes over his features pinches her heart a little.
Nodding her head, she stifles a yawn. “Yeah, you look pretty tired, too.”
Harry grins as he rolls his eyes, leaning away from her now to finish the last of his whiskey. He places the glass back on the counter, clearing his throat to catch Ash and Jim’s attention.
“We’re going to head to bed, long day tomorrow.”
Jimmy puffs out his cheeks with an exhale, nodding solemnly. Y/N gets it, can practically feel the anxiety that rolls off him. While he’s good at masking his expressions, there’s not much he can do about his vibe.
“Yeah, yeah, no worries. You know where everything is if you need anything.”
Harry guides Y/N off her stool and down the hall again after saying goodnight to the others. They don’t bother to turn on the light, instead opt for blindly feeling for the bed with their legs and Harry helps her get comfy.
She expects him to round the bed and crawl in next to her, but he doesn’t. Instead, he brushes the hair from her face and stands back with a gentle smile as he regards her.
Y/N’s brows pinch together when he speaks. “I’ll be next door if you need me.”
“Why?” she asks.
“Why what?”
“Why aren’t you staying here with me?”
He smiles softly, shuffling closer to the foot of the bed again. “Didn’t want to assume, that’s all.”
It makes him feel something deep in his stomach — how she craves his presence and wants him close. There’s a swell of something similar to pride in his chest at the realisation of how deep her trust for him runs.
“D’you want me to stay, Penny?”
She sinks further into the bed, seemingly trying to hide half of her face from his gaze. “Only if you want to,” she replies.
Harry’s smile grows slightly and he nods his head, kicking off his shoes and shimmying out of his jeans. She watches, rather closely. He’s right beside her still as he strips down to his boxers before he closes the door and approaches the other side of the bed.
The sheets are cool against his warm skin, small hisses and grunts slipping from his lips at the discomfort in his ribs and abdomen. It makes Y/N feel funny, knowing just how hurt he must be. She was witness to the assault, she’s a little surprised how well he’s taking it.
She has to remind herself that he is a boxer. And a fucking good one at that.
Y/N turns onto her side, her face just a couple of inches from Harry as their eyes adjust to the darkness, desperately trying to map out the others face under the dim moonlight that threatens to peek through the curtains.
Her ankles rub together as they do every night as she tries to settle herself for bed. Something she’s done ever since she was young. Harry can feel the movement beneath the sheets, but to him, he reads it as a sign of feeling cold. So he shuffles a little closer and intertwines their legs, resting a heavy palm on her hip.
“Harry,” she whispers into the night and he’s already looking at her.
“Yeah?”
She waits a moment, unsure if there’s any use in admitting her quarries right now. There’s nothing he can do or say to soothe her, not with the mess that awaits them.
And yet she finds herself uttering it anyway. “I’m scared.”
The broken octave of her voice is felt deep in Harry’s chest, that primal and protective sensation kicking in again. It makes his brows twist in something that can only be described as annoyance. But it’s not directed at her, Harry doesn’t think it ever could be.
“I don’t see an end where we all make it out of this.”
The admittance she whispers aloud is frightening to her. As if speaking her fear is willing its existence to the universe. It has her cowering into herself with shaky breaths and eyes tightly shut.
“We will,” Harry speaks, not allowing a second of doubt to build in her pretty little head. “I’ll make sure of it.”
Her eyes peak open slowly, readjusting to the darkness again when Harry slowly inches closer until the tip of his nose nudges against hers.
“Before Sammy died, he always told me to look out for you — in case anything ever happened to him. I keep my promises, Penny. No matter what it takes.”
She believes him, wholeheartedly. She trusts that he’ll keep her safe, that he’ll fight for the club. The blanket of safety that comes with Harry’s presence begins to consume her — keeps her close and warm and respected.
Maybe that’s why her eyes begin to droop until she can no longer keep them open. She cuddles into his chest, face nuzzling in the crook of his warm neck and his scent envelopes her senses as she slips into a slumber.
Harry can feel her soft breathing even out until her body relaxes against his. He lays awake, admiring the slope of her nose and her lashes that flatten across her cheekbones.
The need and desire to keep her safe prevails over any other senses. His mind falls short when he considers what he wouldn’t do to protect her, to give her the life she deserves.
And it’s not because Sam asked him to.
//
When the sun rises and the moon rests, the tension they felt the day before returns full force. Few words are shared between the four of them as they prepare for the day ahead. It’s like nobody wants to state the obvious, that this could very well be the last time Jimmy and Ashley see Harry and Y/N.
She tries her best not to think about it, not to get too deep in her head. She’s brushing her teeth in the bathroom, eyes lacking their usual glint but that’s no surprise — she doesn’t think it’s been there since Sammy’s death.
A knock on the door breaks her gaze from her reflection. Harry leans on the door frame, arms folded over his chest as he offers the young woman a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Jimmy’s just finished replacing the window. We’re good to go whenever you’re ready.”
He keeps his voice light and soft, not wanting to pressure her when their situation is already stressful enough. She nods her head slowly at his words, rinsing off the toothbrush under the water.
“Yeah, okay. Uh, just give me a minute?”
“Sure. I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready.”
He leaves her in the bathroom, bounding down the stairs as he returns to his friends in the garage. Jimmy’s wiping his hands on an old rag before flinging it across his shoulder.
“She’s all set, changed out your back tire, too. Looked like it was about to blow.”
Their hands meet in a greeting, chests bumping in that brosome hug most guys do. Harry sits his hands on his hips as he takes a look at the Chevy. As good as new, he thinks.
“Man, I appreciate you and Ash helping us out. You really saved our asses last night.”
Jimmy waves his hand in dismissal as he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, it’s what brothers do.”
There’s an appreciative smile on Harry’s face as the door opens again and Y/N’s body shuffles through. Even from across the garage, he can see that glimmer of uncertainty in her eyes.
She approaches quickly, and by the way her shoulders are slightly raised and head a little ducked, Harry can tell she’s anxious.
He holds an arm in the air for her, allowing her to settle into his side before resting the arm across her shoulders.
“Thank you, for everything,” she says just loud enough for Jimmy to hear.
He nods curtly, leaning forward on one foot with an open palm for her to shake. “It was lovely meeting you, Y/N. I’m just sorry it was under these circumstances.”
She smiles through pursed lips and shakes his head with the same pressure he offers. “Me too.”
She excuses herself to load the bags into the back of the Chevy and waits for Harry in the passenger's seat. Y/N watches them chatter quietly, the mention of Ashley being at work and that if they need anything to not hesitate to call.
It’s merely a couple of minutes before Harry joins her in the car, twisting the key to start up the engine and as he pulls out of the garage, he throws his arm out of his window to wave goodbye to Jimmy.
They share a look as they drive down the road, a nervous glance that promises they’re in this together. Harry reaches for her hand in her lap and intertwines their fingers.
She doesn’t say anything as he guides their hands to his mouth and presses a kiss on her knuckles. And he doesn’t say anything when she squeezes his a little tighter.
They remain silent for the most of their drive. It’s late afternoon by the time they arrive at the club and it’s safe to say their guards are up high. They’re eyes are scanning every inch of roads they drive through, hearts thumping in fear and anticipation.
But they don’t see anything.
Harry pulls up outside, putting the car in park and they both exit. There’s an eerie energy that surrounds them, like the universe is taunting and playing on their fears.
They can’t ignore it, even if they tried.
They enter through the back door, feet scuffling against the concrete ground as Harry guides her through. Niall had already rounded up the guys with the prompt of a family meeting taking place. So it’s no surprise that they’re already gathered by one of the boxing rings.
“Thank you all for coming,” Harry calls out to everyone as he and Y/N make their way closer to the group.
There’s a few mumbles of replies and gasps at the sight of Harry’s bruised face, and lots of nodding heads when they come to a stop before them.
“I’m sure you’re all familiar with the Scavello brothers and what they did to Sammy,” a chorus of disgruntled expressions appear throughout the faces of the group.
Y/N can’t look — keeps her eyes downcast on the floor.
“Well, they’re no longer in hiding. They’re back and they’re after us,” he sways his finger between himself and Y/N, “And this club.”
Niall steps forward, inching closer to the pair who regard the larger group. “We don’t know what’s going to happen, but everyone needs to be prepared in case something does.”
Harry watches the way his members nod their heads and clench knuckles into fists. He can feel the anger and heartbreak that resonates within the gym.
“I need every single one of you on guard in case they show up. This is Sam’s life here. And we’re going to protect it like it’s our own. Understood?”
//
It’s been four days.
Four long, gruelling days of looking over their shoulders and Y/N keeping her keys between her fingers whenever she goes to and from her car alone. Not that that’s been a regular thing, Harry had convinced her to stay with him and his place. And after a bit of compromise, Harry agreed to stay at Y/N’s so she wasn’t on her own.
And it was a bit awkward at first. She didn’t ask for him to stay in her bedroom with her, allowed him to turn the sofa into his temporary bed. But by the second day, the awkwardness evened out to a disturbingly, comfortable, domesticated situation.
Y/N cooked and Harry cleaned. They picked shows to watch together and neither left the house alone. Y/N remains on emergency leave for a week, but Harry’s assured her that when she returns, he’ll drop her off and pick her up.
There won’t be a chance for the same thing to happen again.
Today is no different. They woke up together, picked at their breakfast — both still struggling to find their appetite — and drove in Harry’s Chevy to the club this afternoon.
It’s nearing 5:30 p.m. and they’re both sitting together in the office. Y/N’s sipping on her coffee with a Manila folder in hand, Harry typing data into the computer while taking sips of his own blend every now and then.
“Do you think it’s a good idea to host fight nights with all this going on?”
Harry pauses his typing for a moment, head tilting as he looks at her. He hums, nods slowly. “You’re probably right, we’re just losing money each night that we don’t. The guys are gonna start getting frustrated. For a lot of ‘em it’s the only source of income they’ve got.”
It’s a tricky one, Y/N knows that. Their livelihood is important, but so is their safety. It seems more likely that the Scavello brothers would make an appearance on a busy night like tonight. Friday Fight Night.
A thought occurs to her. “What about an advance?”
Harry’s bows knit together. “An advance?”
“Yeah,” she nods. “We’ve got just over two hundred grand stashed under the floorboards, Har. We can offer an advance to those who need it — they can pay back in instalments when we start up fights again.”
He mulls the idea over for a few seconds, not really finding many cons to the proposal. He nods his head, digging through the draws of the desk for a notepad and pen.
“Want me to go and take names?”
Harry shakes his head. “We need to get this place looking legit first. Destroy anything that holds passwords, account numbers — anything that tries back to the illegal fights. If they or the Feds come snooping, our noses are clean and they have nothing to say otherwise.”
Y/N’s about to reply, to suggest burning any correlating paperwork when a ruckus from outside the office and in the gym is heard.
They look at one another, eyes wide and churning stomachs. Harry stands first, bringing a finger to his lips as he motions for Y/N to stay quiet. The ruckus gets a bit louder, a chorus of disgruntled sounds heard.
Harry inches toward the door first, an arm outstretched to his side in an attempt to keep Y/N behind him. She follows suit, hands trembling slightly and she struggles to see over his broad shoulders.
But Harry can see. He sees the three brothers, but they’re not alone. They’ve brought a posse with them and their hands are all equipped with anything you could think to use as a weapon.
Hammers, knives, baseball bats. If it wasn’t such a dire situation, he’d find it ironic that Ryce is gripping a crowbar.
He’s the first to notice Harry’s presence and his blood is quick to run cold. He taps at Y/N’s side, trying his best to buff out his body to shield hers from their view.
“Stay in the office and lock the door. Text Jimmy and get rid of everything.”
He shoves her backward slightly, reaching for the door handle to close it behind him. She locks the door with nimble fingers, racing around the desk to retrieve Harry’s phone and find Jimmy’s contact.
It’s Y/N. They’re here.
She drops the phone on the desk after sending the message, opening the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet. She can’t stop her hands from trembling, has to continuously replay the plan in her head.
Jimmy calls the police which gives Y/N time to destroy anything illegal while Harry fights them off just long enough for the police to arrive, and everyone prays that nobody gets hurt or killed in the meantime.
No matter how many times she reminds herself of the plan, it doesn’t soothe her fears. Anything could go wrong at any given moment.
It’s not just the three of them this time, they brought friends and it’s going to get messy.
She grabs Harry’s gym bag from the corner of the room and collapses to her knees by the desk. Her fingernails struggle to pry the floorboards up until she spots a flat-headed screwdriver poking out from the gym's tool bag.
It works to her advantage, a few good tugs and pulls and the floorboard pops up with a creak. She’s careful when she pulls it out completely, throwing it to the side and grabbing handfuls of the wads of cash.
Her movements are frantic as she shoves them into the duffle bag, the commotion from outside growing louder and louder. She fills the bag with the money and rushes to take off her jacket, throwing it into the bag to hide the cash and she zips it up, kicking it under the table and smacking her floorboard back in place.
Y/N moves to the filing cabinet, fumbling through the drawers in the desk for a lighter. The papers she retrieved earlier are thrown into the trash can, fingers desperate to spark a light but a thumping on the office door stops her — panics her.
It bursts open after the fourth budge, hinges almost flying off and there he stands, Ryce Scavello, bloody and bruised and gripping a crowbar.
All colour drains from her skin, a sickness within her stomach that’s all-consuming. There’s a maniacal smirk painted across his thin lips and the mark across his neck from her use of the aforementioned weapon still paints his skin deeply.
“Are you going to put up a fight as good as your brother?”
That fear morphs into anger the second the words escape his mouth, her eyes dark and blood cold. She flicks the lighter once more and it sparks a tall flame, and just as he’s about to step toward her, she throws it into the trash and the documents burn in a blaze.
Y/N dodges the first swing he throws, the curled edge of the crowbar nipping at her hair and pulling a few strands out of her ponytail. She can hear her heartbeat in her ears as she ducks from another hit and he laughs at her, sadistically.
“Well you’re certainly as fast as him. Did he teach you that, hmm? Did big brother Sammy teach you how to fight before I killed him?”
She does her best to block out his words, raising her fists to cover her face and her legs spread in the same stance Sam had taught her growing up.
She channels him, everything he ever showed her. She lets her brain reminisce about their occasional sparring sessions because Sam was hellbent on teaching her the right ways to defend herself.
Back then she always told him he was being dramatic, that she’d never put herself in a situation where she’d need to fight for her life.
And now, she can hear his reply in her ears, as clear as day: These situations find you, and you need to be prepared for them.
Ryce lunges for her again, catching her in the temple with his fist at the same time she kicks into his kneecap. The crunch of his bone is heard but it doesn’t stop him.
He somehow gets closer and wraps his hand around her throat, a vice-like grip as he slams her body onto the desk and knocks everything off, her and Harry’s coffees spilling on the floor.
Y/N thrashes her legs against him, fingernails scratching at the skin of his face as her thumbs probe harshly into his eyes. Ryce’s grip loosens just enough for her to try to shuffle away, but his hand is replaced with the crowbar and he’s choking her out like she did to him.
He’s seething above her, her own hands now desperate on the bar to try to pull it off, to give herself relief. It doesn’t work, he’s overpowering in every sense and the lack of oxygen she gets makes it harder to move.
Y/N’s eyes are frantically searching for something — anything — to use to her advantage. Her line of sight falls short until she notices the large metal stapler that’s hanging off the edge of the desk. She pries her fingers out as she stretches for it, nails scratching against the metal until she’s able to flick it closer.
The second she’s able to wrap her fingers around the stapler, her arm swings and it thuds heavily against the side of Ryce’s head. Once, twice, three times.
His hold on the crowbar across her throat loosens until he drops it onto the floor. Y/N’s gasping for air, eyes wide and chest heaving as he holds the side of his head in agony.
That’s how Harry finds them — Ryce on top of her on the desk, grunting in pain and anger. He doesn’t allow him another moment to regain himself before Harry swings for the side of his face and Ryce’s body clambers to the floor and off Y/N.
She’s frantic, struggling to grasp reality as Harry reaches her. His hands find her face, gentle touch as he coos to her, promises her it’s okay and he’s got her.
She gets a look at him, bloody and bruised and his bottom lip is split and already swelling. Y/N sits up with the help of Harry at the sounds of blaring sirens and she turns to him, swallowing thickly.
“Grab the money, we need to go.”
Her gaze meets the unconscious body on the floor, anxiety still bubbling in her chest at the realisation that in a few short minutes, this could be completely over with.
Harry reaches for the bag of money when he notices the trash can on fire. He doesn’t need to ask to know she’s burned the documents. They leave the contained fire to burn as they leave the office, both hobbling and gasping for breath.
Police begin to infiltrate the gym, batons in hand and guards to their bodies — as they would for any kind of riot. There’s at least seven officers, all shouting commands to get on the ground or stay where they are.
The gym is in distress. Photo frames and trophies on shelves have been smashed and broken, weights are strewn across the floor, some clean and some with blood. Their hands all reach into the air in a form of surrender and before long, the majority of the trainers and rioters are in cuffs.
An officer approaches Y/N and Harry, quite polite as he assures them he isn’t going to cuff them unless given reason.
“A few of your friends said you two are the owners?”
Harry nods, clearing his throat. “Yeah, that’s right. We were in the office when they showed up and then a fight broke out.”
The officer squints at Y/N and she squints back, reading his name tag as Jones. He looks back to Harry.
“Who’s they?”
“Ryce, George and Scott Scavello. They’re brothers.”
Officer Jones raises an eyebrow at Y/N’s words. “You know them?”
“Uh, we’ve had some trouble with them in the past.”
Y/N’s head snaps to look at Harry, wonders what the fuck he’s going to tell the police, if it’s really a good idea to mention what they did to Sammy. Couldn’t Harry get into trouble for withholding evidence about a crime for all this time?
Jones clears his throat. “Do you wanna expand on that?”
Y/N decides to speak up again. “My brother, Sam, owned this place with Harry before he died. The Scavello brothers tried to join the gym but Sam didn’t want that kind of riffraff associated with the company. They didn’t take it well and now, I guess this is them fighting it.”
Harry watches her with fluttering eyes, slightly amazed and somewhat concerned with how easily she was able to fabricate part of the truth like that.
Officer Jones nods as he jotts down a rough summary of her words, looking to Harry in case he has anything more to offer.
He blubbers for a moment. “Uh, yeah… what she said.”
He writes a little more, turning to look over his shoulder to no doubt report anything extra he may need to. It’s only for a couple of seconds, which allows Y/N and Harry to share a look that screams don’t say anything stupid, and he’s back to facing them again.
“So, you say you’re the owners?”
Harry and Y/N nod simultaneously, eyes downcast to somewhat avoid the officers gaze. He hums, scribbling some more.
“Do you have proof of that?”
Harry nods. “Yeah, I can get you the ownership contract.”
Y/N watches meticulously, tries to work out what Officer Jones is writing by the way he scribbles but it’s no use. He taps the pen on the pad, looking around.
“Do you have any security footage? So we can confirm your story.”
Y/N looks at Harry. Do they? She hopes there isn’t a camera in the office, or else they’ll find the footage of her burning illegal evidence. But if they have cameras in the gym, isn’t that going to expose the fight nights? Her head is spinning.
“Yeah…. Niall!” Harry calls over for the blond, who quickly jogs over with a bruised eye and a cut across the bridge of his nose.
“Ni, would you mind showing Officer Jones the security footage from this evening.”
Y/N swallows thickly, watching as Niall guides Jones into the trashed office. She smacks Harry’s arm, eyes wide when he turns to her with pinched brows.
“Ouch… what was that for?”
She grits her teeth. “Why have you done that? He’s going to find all sorts on the cameras!”
Harry lets out a soft laugh and shakes his head. “We turn the cameras off at night.”
He watches her body visibly relax; shoulders slumping and eyes dropping. From their spot by the office, they can see the damage that’s been done.
Blood stains the floor in several places, gym equipment broken and there are at least seven holes in the walls that Y/N can see. She spots the brothers, all conscious now and strapped up with cuffs.
There’s a few more officers that take statements from the members of the gym, a couple of those being detained for aggravated assault and they don’t bother to argue that it was self defence. They played their part, they protected Sam’s legacy. And they know both Harry and Y/N will bail them out by morning anyway.
The adrenaline rush that she’s been on for the past week is slowly seeping from her pores. She doesn’t think she’s ever felt this exhausted in her entire life and the harsh realisation of what they’ve been through begins to hit her like a tonne of bricks.
“Harry,” she whispers softly, “I don’t think I can stay here anymore.”
He turns to her with pinched brows but her gaze is far too focused on the blank space ahead of her to realise.
“What?”
She swallows. “There’s too much pain here. Everything hurts since losing Sammy.” Her voice breaks as she speaks.
Harry blinks rapidly, trying to make sense of the situation. He thought they had something, that something genuine was forming between them and now she wants to leave? To run away?
“What about the club?”
She scoffs out a laugh, finally looking at him now. “You had it on lock this whole time.”
“Well what about me?” he argues. “What about us?”
There’s hurt in his voice and Y/N can’t help but feel confused butterflies in her stomach. Us? She never considered that there would be. Despite the two times they hooked up and the intimacy their friendship shared, she didn’t think Harry would ever want anything more. And now he’s telling her that he does?
It hurts her, deep in her soul. Because she harbours feelings for the fighter, strong feelings. But the thought of it scares her too much. What would Sammy think if he could see them now?
When she doesn’t reply, Harry speaks again.
“If you really want to leave, I’ll come with you.”
She laughs at this, and she laughs loud. Shaking her head, she looks at Harry again. That hopeful glint shines in his eyes and it breaks her heart.
“No, Harry. You barely even know me.”
“I know enough,” he retorts quickly.
Her hands find her hips as she turns her body to face his. “Harry—“
“No, come on,” he interrupts her, “Whatever this is between us is only just starting. Don’t walk out on it.”
She huffs, frustrated. “I’m not walking out on it.”
“You’ll regret it if you do. You’ll regret leaving the club and my Gran will be so heartbroken…”
“Hey,” she pouts. “Don’t bring Mary into this.”
“It’s true!”
There’s a wide smile on his lips now and one creeps its way onto Y/N’s, too. He knows what’s going on in her head — how she’s considering what he’s saying, what he’s feeling.
His gaze softens when their eyes meet again. Harry reaches for her hands, his thumbs brushing over her knuckles.
“At least think about it a little more before you decide to leave. Don’t make hasty decisions…”
“Harry…” she sighs, her smile faded to a slight grimace.
He’s right and she knows it. But it doesn’t take away the pain she feels in this town. It doesn’t make moving on from her brother's death any easier. Everything is a constant reminder of him and what happened to him.
Everything but Harry.
“Go on a date with me,” he proposes, though it’s more of a statement than a question.
Y/N’s brows raise as a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “What?”
“C’mon, one date. And if I can’t convince you that we have something real, and that you should stay… then I’ll understand.”
She catches her bottom lip between her teeth and weighs out her options. She could very easily decline and leave town right now, to never speak to him again or return.
But the idea of going on a date and seeing where this connection goes sounds a little more enticing. Because deep down she knows that running away won’t solve anything. It won’t make her forget the truth.
If she leaves now, she’ll never come back. And she’ll forever regret walking away from her brother's legacy and whatever her and Harry could’ve been.
He dips his head down to catch her line of sight again, a playful smirk etched onto his face as he squeezes her hands. Y/N makes her decision there and then; to not run away, but to stay and see where fate will take her.
“Fine,” she smiles. “One date.”
//
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peppiemezzie · 29 days
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(WIP) should be up soon but here’s an upcoming Ragatha hee ! 😊💕💕
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hyunsvngs · 6 months
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𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 - lee minho x fem!reader
wc: 5.8k
cw: this is a piss fic, you have been warned - don't like don't read, established d/s dynamics in a relationship, SMUT MDNI.
synopsis: your boyfriend has something he wants to try in bed. you didn't expect to like it so much.
a/n: like i said before this is a piss fic, if you don't like don't read! thank u to the sweet girl who commissioned this & thank u to my babies may and nessa for proofreading and also my ems <3 i was super nervous about this so i hope u like <3 smut warnings ofc under cut
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
sw: PISS, established d/s dynamics, dom!minho, sub!reader, subspace, SERIOUSLY THERE’S PISS, face fucking, oral (m rec), very negotiated kink, minho calls reader a plethora of pet names, nipple play, one (1) face slap, minho’s condescending and MEAN, choking, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, degradation, squirting, reader calls minho sir briefly, brief aftercare but more offscreen!!
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
It’s always daunting when Minho gets like this. You know exactly what’s going to go down tonight - you’ve discussed it extensively. You always have to discuss it extensively. Minho is nothing if not a good dom, and there’s rules and regulations that you have to adhere to, even if he is your boyfriend.
It still catches you off guard. He paces across the room to your shared wardrobe, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and exposing his veiny forearms. You’re perched on the bed, the exact way he told you to be in your plain black underwear. The fresh sheets are a welcome coolness on your warm skin. You’re overheating in excitement. You can’t wait. 
He’s going to piss on you tonight. He’s going to piss on you tonight, or maybe even in you, he’d said - he wanted to make you well and truly messy. Just the way he liked you. He told you he’d be mean, maybe even meaner than normal, and you’d agreed to it all before climbing into his lap and begging him to take you on the flimsy dining table chair in your kitchen in all of your excitement. He had chuckled, brushing a hand over your head with a teasing little “you want it that bad, huh?”. He still fucked you, so your plan went as hoped.
“I want to talk to you about something before we start, jagi,” His voice is smooth, low in volume, yet you hear every word loudly. You nod in response, and he turns and blinks at you, slow and cat-like. Oh, yeah. You were forgetting yourself already.
You blush in embarrassment of how far gone you are already, and he smiles, soft and barely noticeable. Fond. “Yeah, Min?”
The blush only continues to spread when he finally, finally climbs onto the bed next to you. He’s still in his work clothes, shirt tight on his broad pecs and his trousers tight on his thighs. You try not to stare. You fail, and he chuckles, using two fingers to prop your chin up to look directly at his eyes.
“This scene is a little harder than the other ones we’ve done,” He looks at you. It would feel scrutinising, the way he’s sizing you up, but his eyes are so full of fondness you can’t feel perceived at all - only admired. “I’m a little worried you may fall into subspace. Do you know what that is?”
He’s using his dominant voice on you, you swear. The tone of voice that’s level, not quite monotone but very, very straightforward and firm. Almost strict. It makes you rub your thighs together in need. Your boyfriend is so sexy when he’s like this. 
A quick scratch to your chin has you blinking back into reality. Yes. “Yes, I do know what that is. I’ve never done that before though, have I? So I probably won’t now, and-”
“We don’t know that,” He’s firm when he cuts you off, but presses a kiss to your nose nonetheless. “I need to know if you’re okay with me continuing if I notice you getting all floaty, jagi. I won’t if you don’t want me to. This is all in your hands, yeah? You know you run this show.” 
He chuckles, lightening the mood, but he’s right. When Minho first introduced you to this, you realised very quickly that despite the dominant being physically in charge, it was definitely the submissive that held the reins. It’s hard giving yourself over to someone so viscerally - it’s a vulnerable state to be in, letting someone decide your limits and decide what’s best for you.
Despite that, you’d let Minho fuck you outside in six foot snow, so you were definitely down for being fucked in subspace.
“Yes. Yeah, I want you to- I think it’d be hot, I think,” You’re babbling already, and Minho smiles again, his teeth glinting in the low light of your lamp. “I think it would be hot if you carried on, and I was like- all fuzzy, and stuff. You know?”
It’s silent for a beat, and then he presses a chaste kiss to your lips. “Cute. Remember I love you, jagi, okay?”
Oh. Oh, you were starting? He normally only said that before you started, and before you can question him, he’s pressing his mouth against yours firmer, harder. It’s messy, the way he dominates your mouth instantly and uses one hand to tangle in your hair, yanking your hair back. You whimper against his lips, and he bites your bottom lip in response, finally moving to press you down to the bed with him on top of you. He starts to trail kisses down your face and your neck, and you can't help but let out a small noise of excitement. Before you can beg him to leave his mark on you, he quickly moves back up to your lips and starts to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth in an act of possession. You wrap your arms around him and bring him closer, feeling yourself getting a lot more than just worked up.
His chest is muscled, the slightly toned soft muscle that only makes sense on Minho. He’s not heavy on top of you, only a presence where he licks and sucks into your mouth until you’re leaking into your panties. He pulls away, his lips dropping to your neck, and you can’t be anything more than pliant the way you let him use your skin and mark you as his. You are his. Mentally, emotionally, physically - any way he wants you, you’ll let him.
“I love this body,” Minho groans, his voice low and gravelly. “Such a filthy fucking body. You’re gonna let me piss on it, aren’t you?”
You whine, loud and unabashed, and Minho chuckles. It’s a puff of air against the exposed column of your neck and your hips cant up, searching for friction. 
“Oh, you are,” His hand moves down to your bra, searching through the lace for your pebbled nipple. The lace is thin, pitch black and almost sheer, and a grin forms on his face when he manages to pinch your nipple meanly. “Look at how excited you are for it. Your nipples are so hard, are you that excited for my piss?”
You try to nod in response, but a quick slap against your cheek using his spare hand has you reeling to try and form words. You’re babbling before you can even think. “Y-Yes! Yes, Minho, I’m excited. I can’t wait, I wanna- I wan’ taste it, will you let me? Please?”
He hums in consideration, yanking down the cups of your bra to expose your tits to him. He was right - your nipples are hard and pebbled, dusky against your flesh, and he ducks down to engulf one in his mouth. His lips are full, plush like pillows, and his tongue darts around your nipple in small kitten licks. Soft, wet, warm. Pliant. His.
Minho’s bunny teeth are quick to bite at the peak, and you whine, back arching up to get more of the painful pleasure. He coos at this, finger running over your areola once when he pulls back from your chest. He sits back on his haunches, fingers deftly making quick use of his belt. The way he pulls the belt from the loops on his trousers have you remembering all the times he’s whipped you with it, and your eyes go blurry. You’re staring directly at the extremely prominent bulge in his trousers as if you somehow have x-ray vision and can see his cock in all its glory already.
“I’m going to fuck your face,” He explains, pushing down the expensive branded boxers to his thighs. His thighs are thick, muscled from years of dance, and you nod at his words despite having your vision solely trained on the bulging muscles. You can’t even keep your attention there for long - his cock springs out, hard and flushed and so big, so thick in the tight ring he forms around the base. The veins look as though they could be practically throbbing beneath the skin with arousal. “I’ll fuck your face, and I’ll piss down your throat. Do you want that? Tell me.”
He’s asking you, and you can’t believe it. Of course you want it, but you respond anyway. “I want it. I want it so bad, Minho. How do you want me? On the floor, on my knees? Or do you-”
“On the floor,” He looks towards the ground, pleased with himself when you heed his commands immediately. You’re quick to dive off of the bed and sink to your knees on the floor, and Minho lets out a fond chuckle before standing in front of you, ever the image of dominance. The hardwood floor doesn’t save your knees, still feeling hard and uncomfortable, and the way the pain bites into your legs has you shifting even more. It turns you on, being used and treated like an object, and being put on the floor to suck cock doesn’t help any. You’re positively ruining your panties by now.
His trousers are pushed down to his ankles, the perfect juxtaposition of black, thick material against his milky skin. His shirt is rolled up just enough for you to see the bottom of his tummy, hairy and soft above his cock. You expect him to keep it on, but you watch in awe as he unbuttons his shirt quickly and throws it to the side. His chest is exposed to you then, all broad muscle and dusky pink nipples against his skin.
He pumps his shaft in his hand a few times for good measure, just barely a few inches from your face, and then he’s tapping the cockhead on your lips. “Open wide. C’mon, kitty cat.”
His tone is condescending, almost patronising, and you hold back a whine. When your lips fall apart, he’s pushing into your mouth before you can even process it. A blistering, feverish pace immediately takes over his hips, and his cockhead is ramming down your throat with only a slight bit of pain beneath all of the pleasure. You try to run your tongue over the tip, to trace the veins with the tip of your tongue, but it’s impossible. He’s using your mouth like he’d use your pussy, unabashed and downright mean.
“Take it,” he grunts, looking ever the ethereal being above you. If you didn’t know him, you’d swear he was an angel - no, a fallen angel, debauched and with black, wiry wings sprouting from his back. Sweat covers the top of his chest, shiny and wet, and his cockhead presses firmly into the back of your throat. Your eyes water with the intense ministrations on your throat, hands aching to reach out and grab onto Minho’s thighs. They stay securely on your own limbs, and Minho groans, his eyes staring down into yours.  “Fucking take it for me. Take my cock, dirty kitty. Don’t you dare fucking cry about it.”
You’d swear he was composed if it wasn’t for the way he was looking down at you. Minho’s mostly quiet in bed, only a few sparse noises, but the fire in his eyes is visible.
The sounds in the room are filthy. Your eyes are hazy already with the force that he’s rutting into your mouth, but when his hand goes into your hair, yanking with all of his might, you hear yourself whine between gags and you’re not even trying to. You’re floating, fuzzy where your boyfriend fucks his cockhead into your mouth - you can’t even consider what’s going on, not too out of it but out of it enough to question what’s actually happening around you. Is this what Minho was talking about before? Subspace?
“Oh, Jesus. Are you feeling fuzzy already, kitty?” He pulls his cock out, tapping the cockhead on your bottom lip. A string of drool attaches his cock back to your mouth and he groans in approval, feline eyes narrowing. “Went down so easy for me, huh? Do you think you can take a little more?”
You’re nodding then, subconsciously, but a slight smile on your face. You want more. You need more. You need his piss, wherever on your body that he deems acceptable - it’s like he’s marking you as his territory. It’s such a primitive act that gets you more than just hot under the collar. If he pisses on you, or in you, it’s as if he sees you as an object that’s beneath him, not worth anything more than his piss. 
“Good,” He muses, and then his hand is forming a tight ring around his length. It’s throbbing, long and thick where it protrudes from his groin with drops of pearlescent precum, and he presses it past your lips again with a small sigh. “I’ve gotta take a piss, kitty cat. I want you to swallow it all for me, and then you can have some milk in that pussy for being good. How’s that?”
You can’t reply, because he’s already bouncing your head on his shaft. He’s resorted to pulling you up and down on his shaft by your hair this time, not grinding his hips rhythmically into the hot, wet cavern you’ve provided. 
“You know, I really thought you’d say no to this,” How the fuck is his voice calm right now? “But then I realised that of course you’d be into it. My filthy little fucking urinal.”
You moan loudly around his shaft. Minho chuckles, and then he’s pulling back again, your throat abused and aching at the alleviation of pressure. His cockhead stays at the entrance of your mouth, and he drops a hand from your hair to pump it a few times, raising an eyebrow at you.
“It’s coming,” He warns. “Are you ready? Are you ready for my piss, filthy bitch?”
You moan, nodding, and when your tongue lolls out of your mouth, Minho lets out a loud groan. It’s primal, and you watch silently as he shakes his head and flutters his eyes closed to try and gain some control of himself. He runs his finger over the slit of his cockhead, and then he’s pushing the tip past your lips again and - oh. 
His piss begins leaking out of his tip, a slow and steady stream that tastes surprisingly a lot like you expected. It’s purely Minho, raw and unfiltered, and you whine and whimper and let him fill your mouth up with his piss. It feels filthy, your pussy positively dripping through your panties and onto the floor by now. The stream floods down your throat even as you continue to gulp it down greedily, and you allow your hands to finally find purchase on his thighs, fingernails digging into the muscle. He allows it, his hands both moving back to your hair to bob you on his tip just a little to get the rest of his piss out.
Minho pulls out of your mouth with a soft noise, his eyes staring down at you almost menacingly. You dip your tongue into his piss-slit once more, moaning at the remnants of the taste, and then you’re whining, loud and un-muffled. 
“Minho,” You say, voice high and needy. You feel as though you want to say so much, you want to beg so much, but nothing is coming out of your mouth. You’re so fucking turned on you feel like you could die. “P-Please. Please, please. I can’t, I can’t, please, please-”
He positively growls. You’re pulled up by two hands underneath your armpits and thrown onto the bed less than unceremoniously, his body sidling up next to you. He’s kicked his trousers off, you notice, body warm and firm next to you.
“Was it that good? Dirty little thing,” He hums, tongue licking one fat stripe up your neck. “C’mere. Let me taste it on you.”
Minho’s lips are firm against yours, and his hands are anything but gentle as he slides them down your body. It’s like he’s igniting you with electricity, every area of skin that he touches feeling warm and too sensitive. His lips trail down your neck, leaving another trail of fire behind them. You’re pliant, letting him pull you by your hair and your throat into his dominating, overwhelming kisses.
His fingers reach your panties, and his finger dips underneath the waistband. You gasp, holding your breath and wishing, praying that he’ll push his whole hand into your underwear, but he simply pulls his finger back with a small amused puff of air. 
“Hnnfg, Minho, Minho, please, I don’t, I can’t-“
Minho leans over you more then, his eyes dark and half-lidded when he stares into yours. His gaze is all-consuming, but there’s a slight hint of a teasing smile on his lips. “Jesus, kitty. Be quiet,” His voice is low, amused, until all signs of a smile drop from his face upon his fingers finally delving into your underwear. His forearm obscures your vision, muscled and veiny, but you can feel the way your wetness immediately drenches his fingertips. His eyes flicker from your face to your core in awe, lips slightly parted. “Fuckin- shit. Jagi, tell me this is a joke. You’re fucking drenched.”
You are. His fingers smear around in your wetness, spreading it all around your folds. He drags his middle and ring finger down to your hole, wet and sloppy, and you look at him with pleading eyes. You’re not sure you could talk even if you wanted to.
Minho simply smiles that toothy smile that you love, eyes crinkling. You’re confused - he’s being nice - until he’s shoving both fingers into you at once. It was a stretch you hadn't been prepared for, and you jolt with a squeal, hands going up to grip onto his forearm. 
“Do you remember what I said before, jagi?” He muses, fingers curling up into that spot that makes you whine. You do whine, legs thrashing around and toes curling against the sheets. “If you have any in there, I’m fucking having it. I want you to piss all over my cock before I fuck you with it, remember? I want you to treat you like the dirty little thing you are.”
You nod, brain still fuzzy and way too overwhelmed. Your pussy squelches loudly around his digits, and his spare hand wraps around your throat in a dangerous grip. It’s not too hard, but definitely there, and you whimper in approval. 
Your eyes roll back into your head at the pace he sets against your g-spot, and after a brief, tight squeeze, Minho removes his hand from your throat in favour of using two fingers on your clit along with his harsh fingering. His arm is curled underneath your waist in a position that must be painful to him, but you ignore it in favour of your own pleasure. 
You feel like you could scream, and you do let out some strangled noise that sounds nothing at all like you. Just when you think it can’t get any worse - or any better, actually - he slides another finger in, stretching you out with three of his digits. You’re dripping down onto his knuckles and you wail, starting to hump against his hand. You’re going to cum embarrassingly quickly.
“You better be fucking thinking of asking for permission, bitch,” Minho hisses in your ear. You moan in response, nodding. Of course you’ll ask. Something about your boyfriend just makes you want to be good. You want to obey him so he continues to give you such nice things. “You don’t make the decisions. I'm the one fucking that hole with my fingers right now, I'll be the one who says you can cum.”
His fingers thrust into you faster, if it was possible, and you thrash around. The movement brings Minho’s cock against your thigh, and you gasp at the realisation that he’s next to you, naked, in all his glory. Your fingernails still dig painfully into his forearm, but he doesn’t seem phased. “Minho, Minho- I’m gon’- please, please, please, I wanna cum, let me come, it hurts, I-“
“Oh, I know, I know. It just feels too good, doesn’t it? You can’t even fucking control yourself, writhing around like that,” He groans, eyes fixated on your face. You know your expression is screwed up in pleasure, eyes watering from the feeling of his fingers inside of you. His fingers begin to slide around on your clit rather than provide any direct pressure due to how wet you’re getting, but you still hump against the sensation with gratitude. You’d never have anything other than gratitude when Minho’s being so nice like this. “You’re behaving like a fucking whore. Beg me for it. Beg me to let a fucking whore like you cum all over my fingers, tell me how good it feels.”
He starts kissing up your neck again with the open-mouthed, wet movements, and you feel like you’re about to burst. Just a little more. Just a little more, and you can, you just have to will your brain to speak. “I-I love sir's fingers, fuck, I love when sir fingers me like this- fuck, sir I'm gonna- can't hold it- I, hnng, I can’t, I don’t- pleasepleaseplease-”
Minho pulls away from your neck with an alarmed little snort. “Sir? God, you are far gone,” He points out, but then he’s pinching your clit meanly with his fingers. It makes you hump his hand a little faster and whine a little louder. It’s quiet for a beat, and then he’s sighing as if he’s annoyed. You swear you catch him rolling his eyes through your blurry vision. “Okay, fine. Go on then, if you want to cum so badly. Cum.”
With one word, you feel like your whole world is falling apart. A gush of wetness bursts from you and all over the bed, probably soaking Minho too. Your ears are ringing and you can feel the tears brimming in your eyes begin to fall, fat streaks of wetness painting your skin. His fingers don’t slow, but he’s groaning in your ear now, coaching you along. He pulls his fingers out, rubbing over your clit with a wet hand that only made you let out another gush everywhere. You were sure you'd screamed.
You wail and thrash through your orgasm, and then you’re panting, body dropping back onto the bed. You don’t register Minho groaning, licking his fingers clean - you only realise he’s moved when he’s on top of you, yanking your soaking wet underwear down your legs and finally unclasping your bra. Your hands go above your head, pliant and willing, letting him take control. You’re fucked dumb by now, anyway. You’d be no use.
“If you had all that in there for me, you have some piss in there,” He muses, and you whine, shaking your head.
“D’nt need to pee, Min,” You insist, head lolling back on the sheets. You’re pliant, and Minho grabs your chin with his hand, making you face him. His ears are burning a shade of delectable pink, the flush travelling over his chest and making him look almost embarrassed. You know this state of Minho all too well, though. He’s so horny he feels like he’s about to explode.
“You do,” He responds, quick as a flash. You whimper as he presses his cockhead into your folds, just barely teasing the ruddy, flushed tip at your hole. Your hands move to grip onto the sheets next to your head, and just when you’re sure he’s going to put it in, Minho leans down, and then his hand is pressing on the bottom of your stomach. You wail, shaking your head. Minho chuckles knowingly. “You need to piss, don’t you?”
You do. Embarrassingly quickly, just from him pressing on your bladder. “I- it’ll make a mess, Min, I can’t, I can’t-”
“I want it to make a fucking mess,” He scoffs, pressing harder. He continues to drag his cock through your sopping wet folds with his other hand, his feline eyes staring at you with a renewed fire burning behind them. He’s daring you to disobey. You would never disobey him. “I want everything you have to give me. Piss all over my cock. Do it.”
You clench your thighs, stomach tensing. It doesn’t take much, only a slight rubbing of Minho’s hand on your tummy and you’re pissing. The stream erupts from you in a messy spurt, and Minho groans, pumping his cock to coat it in your mess. You whine, trying to shift your hips to catch his cock inside of you, but the mess you’re making ensures that it’s too slippery to do so.
“Stay still, you’ll get it in a second,” Minho mumbles, hand tightening around the head of his cock. It’s substantially lubed now, but he still continues to pump it, hand easing up on your stomach. Something about it has your mouth watering, staring at his cock and wondering how it tastes. Maybe he’ll let you suck it clean next time, let you taste his cock mixed with your own piss. “That’s it, kitty. Get sir’s cock nice and wet with your piss. Dirty little thing.”
When the stream finally finishes, you shift against the sheets, soaking wet and definitely a lot more aroused than you were previously. There’s still only one thing on your mind. “Can- can I have it now, please, please?”
Minho nods, his cheeks blazing red. He’s losing his composure. “Yeah. God, yeah, kitty. You can have it, c’mere,” He sighs, finally pushing the head of his cock inside of you. It slides inside easily with the wetness of your pussy and the mess you’d made on him, his thick shaft stretching you out and making you moan out for him. You catch sight of Minho’s eyes rolling back into his head, a long, drawn out noise leaving his lips. “Fuck, this is so fucking dirty. You’re filthy, letting me do this.”
No. You’re not, are you? Are you dirty? “Filthy?” You question, completely in bliss at the feeling of him finally inside you. You’ll be filthy if it means he’ll fuck you. Minho chuckles, and then his hips start to move, a sinuous grind against yours. The noises your pussy is making are beyond debauched, wet, slapping sounds from how soaking wet you are. You whine, bucking your hips up, and Minho lets you, gripping your hips to pull you off of the mattress.
“I’m gonna go harder, okay? I want you to take it for me, all of it,” His voice is close, leaning down to whisper it against the skin of your neck. You nod eagerly, and he pulls your thighs up to rest your ankles on his shoulders. The change in position has his cock hitting you deeper and you gasp, fingers moving to grip on his biceps. He sits back slightly, pulling you closer to him, and then he’s pounding into you. With little to no buildup, you can’t help but squeal, your pussy gushing around his fat length. “You love this, don’t you? My cock, covered in your piss, stretching your little cunt out. You love being filthy for me.”
“Hhnnfg, hhng, Min, Min, Min, you made me pee, you-”
Minho scoffs, hand threading into your hair. He wraps your hair around his fist and pulls, bent half over you while he pounds your pussy into oblivion. “Don’t make stupid fucking excuses for yourself. I can see it in your eyes, you love being like this for me.” 
You whine, tears brimming in your eyes again uncontrollably. You can’t do anything but just lay there, pliant and gripping onto his biceps for him to stretch your pussy out with his veiny fucking cock. It feels almost too good, too overwhelming. The ridges of his shaft are pressing against your walls, causing a delectable friction that has you clenching down on every outwards motion from him. It’s as if your pussy doesn’t want him to leave, and you don’t want him to leave, pulling him close by his arms every time he thrusts inside of you. 
Minho pushes your thighs apart, and then he’s bending you into a sort of mating press. Your legs rest on his upper biceps and his body folds you in half for him, making you whine at the stretch on your muscles. You’re loud, embarrassingly so, little “ah, ah, ah”’s leaving your mouth with every thrust. The change in position allows him to hit your cervix with his length, long and throbbing inside of you, and you’re only louder and more pathetic for him. 
“Can you hear that, kitty cat?” He whispers, and you hold your breath. Once you’ve stopped making so much noise, you can hear it - the sound of your pussy is even louder, wet and messy and when you look down, his cock is soaking with you. With your piss or your slick, you’re not sure, but it has you clenching down deliciously anyway. “I’m fucking your own piss into you, and you’re whining like a little bitch.”
You can’t even make sense of what he’s saying. Your previous slight fuzziness has morphed into full blown floating, and you think you’re crying, but you’re not sure. All you can hear is your own noises, loud and desperate while he ensures your pussy never forgets the shape of his cock. “Ah, ah, I don’t- sir, I don’t, I can’t, I don’t know- ah, oh, I can’t-”
“Ah, fucking hell,” Minho hisses, gritting his teeth. You watch in disappointment as he pulls his cock out of you, forming a tight ring around the base with his fingers. “I need to cum inside you. I need to give you your milk, kitty cat, c’mon. Flip over for me.” 
He tells you to do it, but helps you anyway. You feel his hands go to your hips to flip you over, and then you’re face down, and some part of you finds the strength to push your hips up to present your pussy for him. But, milk? You’ve been good enough for that?
He sinks back inside you, his cock slick and fat and too much for your little pussy. “There you go, jagi. Biiig stretch, feel it,” He moans, and you push your hips back on him easily. In this position, your lips are parted and you can feel yourself drooling up a puddle on the sheets. It adds to the mess, filthy with piss and slick and sweat, and you want Minho to lick it all up and spit it in your mouth. He immediately resumes his punishing pace, hips slapping against your ass with every thrust and hitting that delicious spot inside you so well. “Fuckin’ tight pussy, ah, it’s so good.” 
“H- haa, Minho, have I been good?” You question, eyes blurry and bottom lip slick with your own spit. Minho groans, deep and loud, reverberating through your whole body. He knows you need reassurance, and he nods, a little smile on his face despite his lust-filled, half-lidded eyes.
“You’ve been so good. So good I’m giving you my cum, yeah? Gonna breed that little pussy, filled it with your piss already, needs my cum now,” He’s babbling, which is a sure sign that he’s close - but you can’t even fathom it in your state. “Little girl, kitty cat, so good for me, c’mere.”
You don’t move, but Minho slinks one hand around your hip to rub at your clit. The added pleasure has you jolting with a whine, and Minho lets out an amused puff of air at your reaction. His fingers slide around your clit wet and imprecise, but it’s enough to have you hurtling towards your second orgasm. His cockhead slams against your g-spot, bordering on painful, but the sensation only adds to the throes of bliss he has you tumbling through.
“Min, Min, Min, it’s- ‘s so good, so good, so big, so- Min, Min, I g’ta-”
“You can cum whenever, jagi. Give it to me, I want it,” His voice is higher, more desperate, and you nod eagerly. He sidles over your back, his sweaty chest pressed to your skin, and then he’s pressing his lips against yours.
It’s less of a kiss and more of a messy exchange of spit and breathing into each other's mouths. Minho’s tongue slides against yours as he continues to rub messy circles around your clit, and before you know it, you’re cumming around his cock with a sharp gasp of pleasure against his lips. He swallows your noises, finally engulfing your mouth with his, and you moan and sigh freely through gushing all over his length, the electric feeling making your toes curl.
Minho envelops your hair tightly with his spare hand, thrusting harder and faster, his breathing becoming ragged as he approaches his climax. With a broken whine, you feel his cum fill you up, thick and hot and heavy.
He flops on top of you with a sigh, his body weight a welcome presence for you. You ignore the feeling of the sheets beneath you in favour of closing your eyes and humming contentedly. You’re still floating, but it’s calmer now, softer. It feels like you’re on a cloud. “So good, Min.” 
“Yeah?” Minho grins, his hand now stroking softly through your hair in favour of yanking on it. “You did so good for me, jagi. You were so, so good, made me cum so hard.”
“You made me cum hard, too,” You respond, opening one eye to see his face over your shoulder. His cheeks are flushed, hair sweaty and floppy over his eyes, but he has a blissed out smile on his face. When he catches sight of you looking at him, he smiles, and the sight of his bunny teeth has your heart singing. How can he look so cute after fucking you like that? Before you can say anything else, you yawn, and Minho giggles. “‘M sleepy.”
“Bath first, jagi,” He coos, kissing your hairline. “My sweet girl. Let’s get you nice and clean and then we’ll nap.”
“Mm, okay,” Minho hops off of you and you stretch out leisurely like a cat, your body sticky and defiled. You hear him tinkering around the room behind you, humming a tune to himself, and you smile fondly. “Love you, Min.”
“I love you too, sweet girl.”
1K notes · View notes
henry7931 · 15 days
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Beach Trip As My Friend’s Uncle
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Miguel:
This is by far the best idea Zach and I have ever had! A few weeks ago, my best bud Zach begged his parents to let me come on their family beach trip but unfortunately they wanted to keep it a family trip.
That’s when Zach and I got a little creative. We decided to ask his cool Uncle Derek if I could swap bodies with him for a week. Now Derek isn’t your ordinary uncle, he’s pretty adventurous, single, likes to party, and is always down for some shenanigans. So when we asked if he’s willing to swap with me, he immediately said yes! He seemed to be just as excited to be me since he’s getting out of the family trip all together.
So we all met up that morning at Derek’s place. Zach already told his parents that he’s riding down with Derek. And when I arrived Derek already had a bag packed for me.
We quickly swapped bodies and it felt so cool being so much bigger.
I grinned at Derek in my body who also looked super happy. He pulled me in for a hug which felt so weird, I could have easily picked my body up like it was nothing.
As I hop into Derek’s nice truck, he says to us, “You boys have fun! And doing anything too crazy in my body!”
“Thanks Uncle Derek!” said Zach.
“Yes thanks again Derek, I’ll take good care of your body I promise!”
“Good and hey I packed condoms just in case things get too crazy. Don’t need my body coming back with anything.”
Zach rolls his eyes while I felt a warm sensation in my stomach. It just hit me that not only do I have Derek’s body for a week but I also have control of his massive package.
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We get on the road and I pull off Derek’s shirt just to show off his tattooed pecs.
Zach’s sitting next to me so excited and says, “God this is so crazy! I mean look at you dude you’re inside my uncle right now.”
“I know man, this is about to be the best trip ever!”
When we arrive to the resort, Zach and I head to check in. We run into his family. We say our hellos to everyone and I’m surprised by how good of a job I’m doing at pretending to be Derek.
We get our room keys and head up. The room is huge! We even have our own bathrooms along with a balcony.
I put Derek’s bags on the bed and open them up to see what clothes Derek packed for me. But when I get to the bathing suits only two of them are normal ones— the rest are all speedos.
Zach pops in already in his bathing suit and says, “you about ready?”
“Uh no not yet give me a few,” I say to him.
“No rush bro! I’m gonna head down, I’ll see you in a few.”
As soon as Zach walked out of the room, I immediately got naked.
I look at Derek’s nude body, that’s when my eyes focus on the thick long dick that I now control.
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I try my best to control my eager to touch it, laying back on the hotel bed. I didn’t want to risk Zach walking but I feel like I only have so much alone time with it.
I look down at Derek’s sexy size 11 feet, they’re beautiful and manly. I trace his fingers along his chest down to his cock and balls.
His dick is already hard, I start to stroke it and it feels amazing. It’s my first I’ve ever jerked off in someone else’s body. And it’s so different from mine.
I sit up and bring Derek’s big foot to my face smelling his toes as I wiggle them. I start licking his foot, still jerking his dick with my other hand.
I feel so close, I knew I was going to bust any minute. I let out a loud powerful grunt, inhaling his sole before cum bursts out all over.
I look over the mess I just made, damn that felt great. I whip some off of his chest and taste it. It taste’s so good.
I clean off his chest with a shower towel and grab one of his speedos.
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I take a pic of myself to send to Derek and say, “you only packed speedos?”
I get a response a few minutes later, “well you look sexy in them. Send me more pics 😜”
I feel Derek’s cock start to get hard again from his text. Is he flirting with me?
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reddpenn · 3 months
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I’m back from my rock show! I got some Cool Rocks!
First, the agates.
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Another Turkish stick agate to join my collection! I can't get enough of this stuff. These form as pseudomorphs of selenite. A bunch of criss-crossing selenite crystals grow inside an empty pocket in the rock, and then the space around them fills in with agate. Eventually, the selenite crystals dissolve, and the hollows they leave behind are also filled with agate, preserving a record of their shapes!
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Bonus! This pair has a nice green fluorescence.
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Here is another Turkish agate. (Almost all of today's agates are from Turkey; Turkey produces some beautiful agate specimens.) This one has a really interesting pattern to its banding.
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I actually picked this one out for its fluorescence, which is a stunning bright green.
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Also from Turkey! Growing inside a super cool crust of volcanic rhyolite, this agate is called sagenite. Sagenite agate has a fibrous appearance because it is a pseudomorph of a fibrous zeolite mineral.
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The last two from Turkey: a pretty red specimen with a sparkly central vug, and a weirdo with squiggles of yellow. What’s going on with that guy?
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This one is from China! The red and orange agates from this locale are called "Fighting Blood" agate. I already have a Fighting Blood in my collection, but I thought this one was neat because its vug is full of amethyst!
Here are some things which are not agate!
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This one is a lead mineral called plumbogummite! Specifically, these crystals are a pseudomorph of another lead mineral called pyromorphite. Over time, the lime green pyromorphite crystals were slowly replaced by the tealy plumbogummite. In a few of the broken crystals, you can still see a green pyromorphite core!
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Hyalite opal! This rock has been on my bucket list, I am so excited. This form of opal is known for its water-clear, jelly-like globule formations. Though typically a colorless mineral, this specimen is tinted yellow due to iron staining. It’s also a mineral famous for its bright fluorescence… but this specimen’s glow is utterly unimpressive. :c I will be on the lookout for a more glowy specimen at future shows. Honestly, I’m just happy to finally own some at all!
This year, I also got some high-end mineral specimens! Take a look at these beauties.
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Roselite! This rare, toxic mineral is full of arsenic. If I ate it I would probably die! Roselite’s deep red color comes from the cobalt in its chemical structure, and makes it highly sought after by collectors. This specimen is showing off a well defined lenticular crystal habit! Again, I cannot overstress how rare this stuff is. I spent… an inadvisable amount of money on it.
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Oh, the best and most sparkly boy. This is wulfenite! I have wanted a piece in my collection for so long, and I’ve been waiting for just the right specimen to come along. It's a lead mineral, and it forms the coolest square, tabular crystals! This mineral is extremely brittle, which makes large, intact crystals of it very hard to find. But check out the huge tabular crystal on the right side of this specimen, it’s bigger than my thumbnail!!
And finally, I could not resist buying something silly.
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This is Tully. He's a plush Tully Monster, which is my state fossil!
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macfrog · 10 months
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ride it, cowgirl cowboy like me chapter ten
hey dudes. anyone up for some dbf? i seriously can't thank you guys enough for all the love y'all show this series. blows my mind every time. i have been super excited for this chapter for a WHILE. might be my fave so far. who knows. you can grab chapters 1-9 on my masterlist and also my ao3 if ur feeling fancy. love u all sm!!!!!! ✨💘💫
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pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader
summary: joel picks you up from a girls’ night. you’ve plans for when you get home
warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) reader isn't an astrology girlie (sorry), more pining beCAUSE, alcohol consumption + a mention of the devil’s lettuce, very quick bit of unwanted touching, even quicker bit of protective joel, soft!joel, softdom!joel, one tiny mention of daddy, protected piv sex this time (feeling conservative slutty max will return), reader rides him into the sunset, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing
word count: 6.7k
series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist
You lazily drag yourself over and over Joel’s dick, each stroke drawing you nearer and nearer to your high. When your body starts to falter, you feel him shift, and open your eyes to see him leaning over to the nightstand. His fingers grip the rim of the black cowgirl hat you’d worn that night. He lies back, flat against the mattress, and reaches up, placing the hat on top of your head. You smile. Joel speaks in a low, gentle, but commanding whisper. “There you go, cowgirl. Show me how it’s done.”
You never believed much in the power of the universe. Astrology, moons, manifestation. Whatever. None of it ever really meant much to you. You knew your star sign, knew which cool little symbol resembled you, and that was about it. Everything past that was…confusing and, frankly, a little overwhelming.
However.
If the universe were to send you a sign, one huge, fluorescent, multi-colored, in-your-face sign, that it was on your side…this weekend might just be it.
Your dad’s downstairs, finishing up packing for his work trip. His departure is imminent. Sarah’s been in Nashville since last night. A series of texts she sent you at 3AM riddled with spelling errors and heart emojis tell you she’s been having a pretty good time so far.
You are Joel are…alone. All by yourselves. For a whole…twenty hours.
Can’t have it all, I guess.
Your eyes skim down the texts you sent him this morning, texts he is yet to reply to.
You: Merry Christmas!!!
You took his non-reply for confusion – he is almost fifty, maybe he doesn’t get the joke? It’s a pretty lame joke, anyways. Very lame. If your thumb hovers over the send button before you press it, it’s probably not that great a joke. And your thumb had most definitely hovered. So, you’d followed it up.
You: As in, today’s the day
You: I don’t mean it’s actually Christmas
You: I mean like, happy ‘we’re finally gonna be alone again’ day
You: Never mind
“Hello?” Anna’s voice cuts through your train of thought. “Are you even listening to me?”
You drop your phone, shaking your head clear of Joel. “Yep. Sorry. Just didn’t catch that last part. You froze.”
The image of her on your – pretty fucking dusty – laptop screen rolls its eyes, knowing you’re lying. “I don’t know whether to go with the pink or the black boots,” she says.
“Ain’t your dress yellow?”
Her head falls into her hands. She throws herself down onto her bed and slides her laptop closer. “That was, like, ten minutes ago. I’m goin’ with the pink strappy one now.”
“Pink does say rodeo.”
“Fuck you,” she snaps through a giggle. “Remind me what you’re wearin’, again.”
“Black hat, black boots, black dress.”
“You’re so boring.”
“Thanks. Really looking forward to our night out.”
Anna snorts and then stands back up, strides over to her closet and resumes rummaging. “Black jacket, too?” she calls over her shoulder.
“Uhuh,” you reply, glancing back down to your phone. “Although – it has rhinestones. And tassels. Not so boring after all, huh?”
Anna’s silence drags your eyes from the text thread back to your laptop screen. She’s frozen in place, twisted around with a dress in her hands, jaw on the floor. “Show it to me. Now.”
“Hold on,” you roll over and off your bed, your shoulder stiff from the position you’d been lying in, “I think I left it downstairs.”
“Tell your dad I say hey!”
You pad down the carpeted stairs in your socks, toward the sunlit hallway.
“Dad, have you seen my– Oh, fuck.”
As you round the corner at the bottom of the stairs, glancing over your left shoulder to the front door, your chest knocks into something hard. Steady. Strong.
Something you recognize the feel of before you’ve given him a proper look.
“Mind your step, baby,” Joel says, and your heart leaps.
“What the fuck are you doin’ here?” you whisper, peering around his body to look for your dad.
“He’s out front,” Joel tells you, then takes your shoulder and reels you in against his chest. “’m just here to help ‘im with his GPS.”
He plants a kiss on the top of your head and gives you a squeeze. Your head rests safely on his chest, arms link at his back. If you didn’t have plans tonight, and if your dad wasn’t, like, ten feet from you guys right now, you’d never let him go. Just follow him around, vice grip around his waist, surrounded by the smell and feel of him.
Not that that means anything. You’d do other stuff, too. You’re not…you know.
Your dad’s voice streams in through the open door and Joel releases you.
“It ain’t for workin’, Joel, I’m about to throw it at the f– Hey, kiddo.”
“Hey. What’s the matter with your GPS?”
You lean in to the tiny device in his hands. Joel’s elbow comes up to rest on your shoulder.
“Just won’t connect to the car. Every time I plug it in, it just…” He lifts his hands, screen loose in his fingers, and hands you a bewildered look.
You look at him, expressionless. “Why don’t you just use your phone?”
“Because I paid almost a hundred bucks for this thing, and I’ll be damned if I’m– Alright,” he stops himself, eyes shutting in exasperation, “I already explained this to him. I ain’t justifyin’ myself to the two of you.”
Joel’s laughing behind his hand, pretending to scratch his nose when your dad stalks off to the kitchen and throws the device down, snatching the instructions off the table.
The pair of you follow, both still trying to swallow your laughter. Joel wanders around the table and sits down beside your dad, fumbling with the screen. You dive into the coat closet at the bottom of the stairs and fish out your bejeweled, tasseled jacket.
“You lookin’ forward to your girls’ night?” Joel asks, eyes flitting up and down the leather jacket in your hands.
“Mhm,” you reply, opening your mouth to continue when your dad butts in.
“S’posed to be a girls’ night, but that boy Sam’s crashin’ it, ain’t he?”
“Well, we asked him.” You shrug. “It’s his night off.”
Your dad scoffs, shaking his head to Joel, who looks up to you with a confused expression. “’s the big deal with that?”
“Oh, wise up, Miller. He’s only goin’ ‘cause of…” He wags a finger in your direction, and a smirk peels across Joel’s lips.
“Is he, now?”
“Uhuh,” your dad replies, intense stare still on the instructions in front of him. “Makes no damn sense. I plugged it in using the cable they gave me in the box. Stupid thing…”
You shake your head to Joel, who’s still looking at you, bemused. He knows you and Sam are just friends. Also knows your dad is the most oblivious theorist to walk the planet. Just aiming his gun at the wrong target, is all.
“I’m gonna let you two get back to…that,” you say, turning to head back upstairs. “Anna says hi, by the way.”
Your dad’s eyebrows rise once, his eyes never lifting from his GPS. “Hi, Anna.”
“Hey, Anna,” Joel echoes, smirk on his lips.
“Not to you,” you throw back, hopping up the first step. You hear his chuckle as you disappear.
----------
Anna’s reaction to your jacket in person matches that over Facetime: a deafening squeal. A squeal which she repeats almost every damn time she sees you throughout the night.
“So – fucking – cute!” she exclaims for the fifth time, fingers dancing through the tassels. “And it goes so well with your hat.”
You sip on your cocktail, nodding enthusiastically, pushing your eyebrows up underneath the brim of the black cowgirl hat on your head. Trying to match her energy. Your mind’s elsewhere.
Joel texted you a few hours ago. Told you to have a good night, said something about Sam, but you were stood right next to the dude, so you quickly locked your phone and slipped it back into your clutch.
Now, standing with your back against the wall of Franks, watching Sam play pool with Eve, you feel safe enough to read over the message.
Joel: Have fun baby. Be safe. Tell Sam good luck from me.
You squint at the screen, pulling it away from your face and leaning back in to read it over. Good luck? The fuck does he mean –
You: Good luck??
He replies almost instantly.
Joel: Yeah. Good luck winning you over. Took me, what, a week?
Oh, fuck off. You roll your eyes and throw your phone facedown onto the table where Anna and Kara sit, about twenty minutes deep into a conversation you missed the beginning of.
Your attention turns to the room before you – brick-walled, metal dome lightshades hanging over each pool table. Glass-paneled door to your left leading back through to the main bar. For being a tiny bar on a backstreet, Frank’s is pretty lively. There are bodies everywhere, bumping by each other, drunken arms slung over shoulders, hips swaying with the soft rock song blasting from out front.
You imagine your dad here with Joel, maybe Hank and Bill, too. Playing pool, beer bottles resting on the felt while they take their shot. Or sat on the rooftop, sipping on a whiskey. Talking about you and Sarah. What does Joel say about you when you’re not around?
And what does he want to say, but can’t, ‘cause it’s your dad? What does he think, and bite back when it bubbles to the surface?
Your straw gargles, slurping up the last few sips of your drink. You lean over to Anna and Kara, holding your empty glass up.
“Another?”
They both shake their heads, and you nod, turning on your own back to the bar.
You squeeze between two older women, both dressed smart and sharp. One of them – clutching a Manhattan – shifts out of the way as you pass.
“…one more conversation with him about squash,” she tells her companion, “and I am gonna blow my brains out…”
You edge over to the bar and slot into a free space, propping your elbows up on the wood. One of Sam’s coworkers – her name escapes you – notices you and shuffles over, smiling sweetly.
“How you doin’?” she asks, running a damp cloth inside a tumbler.
“Good,” you reply. “Could I just get a Bud, please?”
“Sure thing,” she says, and reaches behind to grab one. You slide her a note and she hands you change, and then you’re on your way back to the pool room.
As you slink by the two women, a weight knocks into your shoulder, almost sending your beer flying out of your hand.
“Sorry,” a rough voice sputters on your left, and you glance in its direction. Some broad dude in a tight t-shirt.
“’s fine,” you mumble, clutching your hat; a smell of weed choking your throat.
He passes by behind you, one hand lingering a little too long on your waist, and you saunter back over to Anna and Kara.
“That dude stinks, right?” Anna whispers behind a cupped hand, and you snort.
“He smells like he’s having a good night.”
“We’re talking about Romeo and Juliet over there. We’re basically third, fourth, and fifth wheeling,” Kara says, nodding over to Sam and Eve, who’re finished their game of pool and have now graduated to darts.
“I don’t…think that’s a thing.”
“Eve asked me if Sam was single earlier,” Anna says, lifting her straw to her red lips.
“What?” Kara spits out, choking on her drink. “Eve has a boyfriend!”
Anna giggles. “He’s kinda an ass, anyway. Look at them, they’re so sweet.”
“You say sweet, I hear morally wrong.”
“Who says it’s morally wrong?” you chirp, alcohol pushing the words over your lips before your brain’s had time to stop them. Your fingers clutch your phone, still laying on the table where you left it. “You?”
“Uh, it’s cheating, dude. What if Nick found out?”
“’s not that big a deal,” you reply, phone screen lighting your face in a blue hue, “they’re just having fun.”
Anna points to you, lifting her glass. “Here’s to havin’ fun, I guess.”
Kara lifts her own reluctantly and they clink, but you’re distracted. Already typing a message to Joel. Bored. Drunk. Morally wrong.
You: What you doing?
Joel: Watching TV. What you doing?
You: What ya watvhin ?
Joel: None of your business. Go get another drink. Looks like you’re not drunk enough.
You lift your head with a giggle, almost ready to turn your phone around to Anna and Kara and say, look what the dude I’m sleeping with just text me. And then, thankfully, your good sense kicks in and you bring the screen closer to your chest.
You: Kinda bored. Wanna come home now please
Bored, horny. It all means the same.
Joel says he’ll be at Frank’s in twenty minutes. You rest your chin on your palm and watch as Sam cheers Eve for hitting bullseye.
“I think they’re cute,” you whisper.
Anna and Kara are already preoccupied, taking photos of one another across the table. Kara leans into you and you smile, flash blinding your hazy eyes for a few minutes afterward. A few more pictures, couple boomerangs of your glasses cheersing, and then your phone’s vibrating.
Joel: Outside. No rush.
That last part is where he’s wrong. There most definitely is a rush, and it’s in the form of the heat that starts to pool between your legs.
“Alright,” you shimmy off your barstool and stretch your back. “My ride’s here.”
“What?” Anna almost screams, her hand slapping down on the table. “You’re leavin’?”
You nod. “Sorry, babe.”
“Don’t babe me, traitor. It’s, like, midnight.”
“Uh, it’s, like, almost 2AM. I’m tired. I don’t know how y’all do it.”
She sighs, conceding, and agrees to walk with you to the front door. Kara and Eve stop off by the bar to grab another drink. Sam holds the door open for you and Anna and you’re hit by a wave of cold night air, instantly cooling your hot, sweaty skin.
“Is that…Mr. Miller?” Anna asks, mouth falling wide open.
You glance down the street and notice his black truck, parked up by the curb. “Mhm,” you reply, “my dad’s out of town, so he’s picking me up.”
“Can he take me home, too?”
Sam snickers. “Wow, Anna. That’s just…Wow.”
She shrugs, lips closing around her straw as she stares at Joel’s truck. Something inside you lurches at the idea of Joel sitting there, his eyes glued on you, watching everything you do, everyone around you. And then again at the thought of Anna and her doting gaze on him.
“Alright, I guess that’s my cue to skip.”
Anna pouts. “One more drink?”
“I’m good, thanks,” you scoff, patting her head affectionately. I got business to attend to.
You give her a quick kiss on the cheek and Sam wraps an arm around your shoulder, giving it a squeeze before you’re wandering off toward Joel’s truck.
“Hey.” Something – someone – hooks around your elbow, and you turn back. It’s that same guy who stank of weed.
“Hi,” you reply, as sweet as you can, but trying to loosen his grip.
“Saw you inside, you out with friends?”
“Mhm. I’m just leavin’, my–”
“Few of us are headed upstairs. You wanna come?”
You glare at him a few seconds, before yanking your arm from his grasp. “Nah, no thanks. I’m leaving. Have a good night.”
You stagger off, feeling his eyes on you as you go. Joel’s truck headlights switch on, dazzling your eyes, and you quickly click around to the passenger side, throwing yourself in beside him.
Joel doesn’t say hey, doesn’t squeeze your thigh, doesn’t even look at you when you settle into the seat. Just asks –
“Who’s that kid?”
“Uh…not sure. Bumped into ‘im in the bar.”
“He give you trouble?”
“No,” you lean over the console, pulling your seatbelt over your body, and flash him a tipsy grin, “thought that was my job. Givin’ trouble.”
Joel doesn’t reply. Doesn’t take his scowl off the dude outside Frank’s, either. Your eyes meander across to his hand, locked in a tight fist around the wheel. Your smile drops.
“Joel. It’s fine. Can we go?”
When you lift a hand to the crook of his elbow and he feels your warmth on his skin, he tears his gaze away and it lands on you. Soft, gentle. His lip isn’t curled anymore. His brows lift.
His eyes watch your lips as you whisper the words to him.
“Want you to take me home.”
“’s go, pretty girl.”
----------
Joel refuses, no matter how many times you ask, how hard you bat your eyelashes, how many promises you make, to stop by a drive thru.
“Please?” you ask one last time before he’s pulling in to his neighborhood.
He shakes his head. “Look at that, we’re already home.”
“I ain’t takin’ no for an answer, Miller, not until the engine’s off. We’re still driving.”
He doesn’t reply. Just pulls up in his drive, cuts the engine, and looks at you. Shrugs. “Oops.”
“Fuck you,” you groan, sliding down in your seat. “I’m starvin’.”
“Make you a big breakfast in the mornin’, how’s that sound?”
“Wanted a Big Mac, but whatever.”
Your fingers fumble for the door handle, clicking it open. You roll out of the truck and stroll around to meet Joel at the driver’s side. He snakes an arm around your shoulders, steadying you as you walk up his porch steps and into the house.
“I’m fine,” you murmur, glancing around his living room.
“Alright,” he says, tossing his keys and kicking his boots off.
Your eyes settle on the TV screen, paused. Probably around the time you text him. There’s a crowded hospital room onscreen, doctors in dark blue scrubs, all surrounding someone lying on a bed, someone who looks pretty familiar…
“Is that…fuckin’…Grey’s Anatomy…?”
Joel chuckles, peeling your jacket from your shoulders.
“That’s Meredith! When she–”
“She fell in the damn river,” Joel mutters, placing the tasseled leather over the back of his couch. “Derek had to go in after her. Intense stuff.”
“Right? I told you it was good!” You smack his arm. “I can’t believe you’re watchin’ it without me.”
“I ain’t watchin’ it,” he protests, “it was just on, ‘n I needed something to keep me awake. I’m still rooting for Meredith ‘n George.”
“We can watch it from the beginning.”
“Yeah?”
You nod, moving over to him. “And then I can be over here all the time, and you can make me all the grilled cheese I want, and we can lie in bed and…do stuff.” Your chin rests on his chest, flashing him a toothy grin. Hands swinging in his at your side.
Joel’s eyes narrow, but there’s a smirk on his lips. “You’re drunk.”
“I’m not drunk. I had a couple drinks. I’m not drunk.”
“H’many fingers am I holdin’ up?” Joel asks, raising his fist. You punch it away.
“Ha-ha,” you say tonelessly, and wander away from him.
“Baby,” he calls you from behind. Sure, you’re tipsy, and he can be a cocky asshole – especially when he has to take care of you, but that’s a sound you’ll never get tired of hearing. Baby. You’re his darlin’, his sweet girl.
You spin around, very nearly losing your footing, and he’s standing with an arm out, ready for you to take.
You smile dumbly. Meander over, and take his strong hand in both of yours, wrapping your fingers around two of his to let him reel you in against his body.
“C’mon,” he whispers, as you lean against his frame. “Let’s get you upstairs.”
You follow him up, knowing where he’s leading you. You’ve spent more time in there the last few weeks than you have your entire life.
His room is cool, not cold, but comfortable. It’s Joel all over; the muted colors, the décor, the smell that calms you as soon as you stumble over the threshold.
He sits you down on the edge of his bed and kneels, pulling your boots off one by one.
You giggle.
“You laughin’ at me?”
“You’re like my own personal tr…No, not trainer. Wait. Personal ch–”
“Chef?” he says, snorting. “Not chef. Try again, soberhead.”
“Oh, I dunno.” You throw your arms up as he sits your boots against the wall, then stands and takes your hat off.
“This,” he says, placing it on the nightstand at your side of the bed, “is very cute. I like it.”
“I’m cute, too, y’know,” you whisper, pouting.
He smiles, and leans down to give you a quick kiss on the lips, pointer finger under your chin.
“The cutest.”
“Ha!” you roar. Joel twists around you to undo the zipper at the back of your dress. “Joel Miller thinks I’m the cutest. Take that, Anna…”
He laughs. When he unzips you, he pulls the dress off your bare chest and down your legs. You don’t shy away, used to the idea now of him seeing you naked. Used to the idea of him seeing you in any vulnerable state; drunk, or naked, or in a sobbing mess on day two of your period.
You notice, even though you’re a tad dizzy with what alcohol is left in your system, that his eyes linger on your panties a moment before he turns and grabs a tee from a chair.
And something inside you ticks.
“Joel?”
He’s pulling the shirt over your head. It smells like him. Intoxicates you much more and much quicker than any drink you could order from Frank’s.
“Mhm?”
You feed both arms through the sleeves, swallowing the question you were about to ask. He’s standing up now, telling you to get into bed.
He walks over to his dresser and begins removing his own clothing. He only sleeps in boxershorts. Your eyes track him as he yanks his t-shirt up over his toned shoulders; fingers undo his belt, unzip his jeans. Everything is discarded to the side for now; he has something more pressing to attend to.
His best friend’s daughter, laying in his bed, a pool of wet forming in her panties.
He just doesn’t know it yet.
As he slips under the covers beside you, you pull off your underwear in one quick movement. Joel doesn’t seem to notice, or so you think; his arms immediately take hold of your waist and pull you against his body. You’ve gotten into the habit of sleeping pressed against his torso, his thigh between your legs. Joel settles comfortably with you draped over him, and lets out a deep sigh.
“Joel?” you whisper again into the darkness, growing braver.
“Hm?” he replies, starting to fall asleep.
You toss ideas over in your head. None of them good, you’re sure, but you’re getting desperate. How he can’t feel your damp core on his thigh, you’ve no idea.
But then, maybe he can? Joel doesn’t miss anything, especially not where you and your…arrangement are concerned. Can he feel you? Is he deliberately ignoring it?
Maybe he has something up his own sleeve?
“I…was just wondering…”
“Wondering what, darlin’?” His voice is muffled, spoken through unmoving lips. You glance up at his face. His eyes are closed.
You grow more desperate.
“…wondering what your body count is?”
You ask it as innocently as you can, your voice wavering on the words body count. It gets him, though, as his eyes blink open a few seconds after you say it.
“I ain’t tellin’ you that. Go to sleep.” He closes them again.
“I wanna know.”
He ignores you.
“Joel,” you moan.
He calls you by name now, and you’re not sure if you’re pissing him off or turning him on – or both.
“Go. To. Sleep.”
“I’m not tired, though. Not yet.”
In response, Joel lets go of his hold on you and rolls over without another word. It’d sting if you weren’t soaking wet right now, and didn’t have a strong hunch he was hardening under the sheets.
“Joooel…” you whine, sitting up on your elbow. No use.
You take hold of his shoulder and tug him back toward you, rolling him onto his back. Like a deadweight, he remains frozen.
“Ugh,” you groan, and drag yourself on top of him, knees either side of his waist, ass hovering. When you sit back onto him, your core lining up with his crotch, your suspicions are proven right.
He’s hard.
Not as hard as he can get, as you’d like him to be, as you’ve felt him before…but he’s hard.
“Joel…” you mewl into the darkness, starting to grind your bare center over his boxers. The friction feels good, so you apply more pressure.
“If you don’t stop that,” Joel’s voice finally grumbles, “I’ll be sleepin’ downstairs.”
“Sex in the living room sounds good to me.”
His eyes open. “We,” one hand comes up to point between the both of you, as if he doesn’t expect your sobering self to understand which pairing he means, “are not having sex. No sex tonight.”
You sigh, shoulders dropping dramatically.
“Huff all you want, baby, it is not happening.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because you’re a few drinks too deep and it’s three in the morning. I’m tired, it’s been a long night waitin’ for you, I–”
“So let me make it up to you. I ain’t even drunk anymore.”
“No?”
“Nuh-uh. Could count any number a’ fingers you put in front of me.”
“Funny.” He closes his eyes.
“Joel.” You drag your hips again. If anything, he’s harder than he was when you first sat down on him. “I had a few drinks, I’ve sobered up. C’mon…”
You bend your waist and lower yourself to align your lips with the side of his head, peppering the skin under his ear with soft kisses.
“I wanna ride you, daddy.”
This gets him. His eyes open again, staring up at the ceiling. His hands slowly come up to rest on your hips.
“Don’t– That’s low, even for you, kid.”
You giggle and straighten up. When your hands lightly trace down his chest, onto his midriff and follow the trail of hair to his boxers, he doesn’t stop you. Just watches from beneath hooded lids, tensing at each point your fingers touch.
You raise your eyebrows, watching his expression for any sign to stop, and it never comes. He remains in place when your fingertips hook around the waistband of his underwear, slowly pulling down.
Joel breathes in deep when you reveal the tip of his cock, springing up to rest on his lower stomach. You feel your core clench. If he’s not inside you in the next five minutes, you might scream.
Well, you’ll be screaming either way.
You look back into his eyes and tilt your jaw, asking for permission.
“Go on,” he whispers.
Your hands take him eagerly, pumping up and down his shaft, and his head falls back onto the pillow with pleasure.
“Uhuh,” you mumble, focusing on his solid dick, but desperate for more. You give him a gentle squeeze and a groan passes his lips, his grip tightening on your body.
You let go of him and grind your hips along his length, folds coating his shaft in your wetness. Joel’s humming, watching as you pull yourself up and down him.
Then, you lean forward, and your hands take hold of him again. You give him a couple more strokes, eliciting a deep groan, and then line his bare cock up at your entrance, practically foaming at the mouth to sink down on him already.
“Woah, woah,” Joel takes hold of your wrist, “slow down, cowgirl. I gotta get a condom.”
You huff as he leans over to his nightstand and opens the drawer. “Don’t want one, Joel, I’m on the pill.”
“No way, baby,” he says through a chuckle, silver wrapper in his fingers. “We already did that, one too many times.”
“So just pull out?”
“Nope.”
You sigh, frustrated.
Joel holds the packet out to you, smirk on his face like he doesn’t expect you to take it.
So, you do.
You steal it from him and tear the wrapper, fishing the rubber out between your two fingers. Pinching the top, you roll it down his shaft and pump up and down for good measure.
“Ready?” you ask, head tilted, cocky smile on your lips.
“Wait, wait,” he whispers, shoulders lifting off the mattress. He lifts the hem of your shirt, telling you, “Off,” before pulling it over your head, exposing your bare breasts.
He stares you down; legs wide open, straddling him, completely naked, nipples hardened, figure silhouetted against the slivers of light peeking through the shades from the streetlights outside. You’ve never felt so confident, mounted on top of Joel fucking Miller.
His eyes roll back and his head falls against the pillow. “Fuckin’ – knock yourself out, baby.”
You steady yourself with one hand on his chest, the other taking hold of his cock and guiding it to your entrance. You push his head through your folds a couple times, and Joel hisses at the feeling, before you sink down.
You stop after the tip the first time, but it draws the same reaction from you both. Joel groans even louder than before, and you moan as you push yourself back up.
Then, without warning, you sink the whole way down.
He’s so deep it brings tears to your eyes, so big that he’s stretching you out more than you thought possible, hitting all the right spots already before you’ve even begun.
Joel’s eyes are screwed shut, his grip on your hips digging into your skin so tight it almost hurts. His jaw is tight, holding back what you can only imagine are the neediest moans he could sound.
So, you decide to draw them from him.
You lean forward and begin bouncing, feeling his thickness pull out and push back into you, both hands on Joel’s chest now for balance. You’re whimpering, the burn of his cock stretching your tight cunt so good and borderline painful at the same time, but you don’t stop.
“Good girl, good fuckin’ girl,” Joel moans, opening his eyes to watch you ride his dick. “’attagirl, just like that.”
“Joel…” you cry, letting him bottom out each time, feeling his balls slam into your ass with each bounce.
“Yeah? You like that? Tell me, baby, use your words.”
“So – good – Joel – oh!” you shout.
“Such a good fuckin’ girl for me, huh?”
You fight against the urge to close your eyes; the pleasure between your legs and the knot beginning to tighten in your stomach are all you can see, hear, feel, but you want to watch him some more. You want to see what you do to him.
You lean forward even further, moving your hands to the pillow either side of his head, so you’re directly above him now. One of Joel’s hands comes to the back of your head, pulling you down until your foreheads are together, moans escaping your mouths only to be inhaled by the other.
Joel speaks to you quieter, through gritted teeth.
“Like ridin’ me, do ya? Like the way it feels?”
“Mhm,” you moan back, and he brings a hand down to slap your ass. You yelp. “Fuck…”
“You look so good, baby, so good. Such a fuckin’ whore for me, hm?”
Another stinging spank pulls a whine from you so filthy, so loud that you’re sure the neighbors will hear, even at this hour. Joel smirks back, resting his hand back on your hip, where he has a grip of you.
Then, he bucks his own hips, pushing into you deeper than before, so deep you see stars. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, panting through the searing pain so good that you never want it to end.
“Joel – I’m gonna – fuck, I’m gonna cum!”
“That’s it, sweet girl, cum all over me. Let go, baby, I’m here.”
That does it. The coil snaps, your walls clench. Joel lets out a guttural moan as you throw your head back and ride him through your orgasm. He coos you through it, squeezing your hips, whispering, That’s my girl, doin’ so good, baby as your body rocks back and forth on his cock.
When you come back down to earth, your lids heavy and breathing staggered, you swear your body can’t take anymore. You feel so fucked out that you’re not sure you can sit up straight on top of Joel.
But he’s always been able to read your mind, and this is no different. He pulls himself up and into you, propped up with one strong hand on the mattress behind his back, the other wrapping around your waist. His cock is still buried deep inside you.
“Joel…” you whimper pathetically. “Can’t do it anymore…”
“That’s okay, baby, we’re gonna do this one together, alright? I got you. Can you do that for me? Just one more?”
You link your arms around his neck and lean into him; his strong form doesn’t shift, just takes on your weight and keeps the both of you upright as he starts to bounce you on his length again.
You’re overstimulated; your cunt swollen, fucked-out, drenched in cum, but Joel makes you feel so good that it’s impossible to let him stop. Your arms pull him in closer to your chest to steady yourself, and his groans echo in your ear.
“Good girl, that’s– that’s it, so fuckin’ tight for me, pretty girl.”
When it all becomes too much to take – Joel’s hand squeezing your waist, your clit rutting against the bottom of his stomach, his fucking cock buried so deep inside you that you swear you can feel him splitting you open – you push him back down onto the bed.
Once when you still lived in New York you read something in a Cosmo about spelling the word ‘coconut’ with your hips when riding a guy. You’d tried it a couple times with hookups, and it’d never done anything for you. They’d never done anything for you.
But here you are, nearing your second orgasm, on top of someone making such a mess of you that you brain can hardly compute to spell coconut, never mind your hips being able to round the shape of the word.
You lazily drag yourself over and over Joel’s dick, each stroke drawing you nearer and nearer to your high. When your body starts to falter, you feel him shift, and open your eyes to see him leaning over to the nightstand.
His fingers grip the rim of the black cowgirl hat you’d worn that night. He lies back, flat against the mattress, and reaches up, placing the hat on top of your head. You smile. Joel speaks in a low, gentle, but commanding whisper.
“There you go, cowgirl. Show me how it’s done.”
It’s all you need. It’s all it takes, by this point.
You brace yourself against his chest again, positioning yourself just right, and bounce on him until your vision starts to blur.
The noises slipping out of Joel’s mouth each time your bodies connect at the base of his cock push you closer and closer; every groan and whimper which passes his lips makes you sink your hips down even harder, pushing him deeper and deeper with every bounce.
“So – fuckin’ – big – inside me,” you slur, and Joel moans in response.
When he takes your hips in his hands again, you know he’s there. He’s just waiting for you to fall first.
You give in to him, feeling yourself close around his length, throwing your head back in pleasure as your second orgasm washes over you, igniting every inch of your body.
Joel’s groans meet yours as you lean forward again, slowly rolling your hips to coax him through his own orgasm. Watching him release, buried deep inside, he looks so good that you feel like you could cum again just at the sight.
You feel his cock start to go limp inside you and when he opens his eyes, panting, you smile sweetly at him.
“Fuck, darlin’.”
You giggle, hips still driving gently against his. “Good?”
“So good, baby, did so well. You’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispers with a trembling breath, taking your waist in both hands and giving it a tight squeeze. You roll to the side, letting his cock slip out of you, condom full of his seed.
You tumble onto the mattress beside him, both heaving, moaning messes. Your chests rise and fall in sync, fingers tangling and untangling by your sides.
Then Joel gets up, and wanders over to the bathroom, where you watch him through the open door as he pulls the filled rubber from his soft dick. He bins it, then runs a facecloth under the faucet, dabbing it across his own forehead as he makes his way back over to you.
You can’t hide your grin as you watch his naked form approach; tan lines where his t-shirt must end, dark hair decorating his arms, legs, chest, the base of his cock. He sits at the edge of the bed, arm outstretched with the flannel in hand.
You go to take it from him, but he doesn’t loosen his grip. Just pats it over your face gently, soft gaze on yours, your fingers intertwined around his wrist. Your eyes fall closed, the cold cloth a relief against your warm, sweaty skin.
“Feel nice?” he whispers.
You nod in response. Your chest swells at how soft he’s being, how tender. When he stands to throw the flannel back into the sink, you almost find yourself reaching out to hold him down.
He climbs over you, springing back down onto the mattress with a heaving sigh.
You prop yourself up and shimmy over, positioning yourself on top of Joel, chest-to-chest. He looks down and smirks, running a lazy hand across your cheek.
“You’re so good to me,” he mumbles.
You tilt your head with a smile and lay down on his chest. You can hear his heartrate slowly calming down. His fingers twist through your messy hair.
“I have no idea what you’re laced with,” he says, “but you got me.”
You smile. “Yeah?”
Joel nods. You shift positions, adjusting your aching hips safely between his thighs. “You hurtin’?” he asks.
You nod. “Mhm. But I like it. It’s you.”
Joel’s hands run through your hair and his fingertips trace your shoulders. His touch is so light it almost tickles. You turn your jaw and kiss the back of his hand.
“My dad gone, Sarah out, free house…” you mutter.
“Hm.”
“So, you invite your mistress over.” You lift your head, smirking at him.
Joel’s chest vibrates with laughter. “You ain’t my mistress.”
“Oh really? What am I, then?”
“I am not having this conversation at 4AM, kid. Ask me again tomorrow.”
You’d think of something to throw back at him, messing with him, but your entire body aches, and your heavy eyes are starting to fold closed with how sleepy you suddenly feel.
You pull Joel’s sheets over yourself, turning your back to him. Joel instantly follows suit, pulling up right behind you, your back tight to his chest, his thighs cupping the back of yours, then slipping one between your legs.
His arms lock around your torso under the sheets. Safe. Secure. Nothing can happen to you as long as he’s got you.
“Ten,” his voice mumbles against the back of your head.
You turn so your ear is pressed against his lips. “Huh?”
“Ten. That’s my number. Includin’ you.”
Oh.
He doesn’t ask to hear yours. You wouldn’t mind if he did, but he doesn’t. You don’t think he’s telling you to hear yours in exchange. He’s telling you because you asked. He’s telling you because, whether in attempt to turn him on or simply to know something about him that you didn’t before – something nobody else knows – it mattered to you.
He’s telling you because you matter to him.
You nuzzle back into him a little, a form of reply, and, as you start to fall asleep, you feel him place a gentle kiss to your ear.
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1K notes · View notes
theautisticwriter · 3 months
Text
Love Letters: Yandere! Helluva Boss characters X G/N Reader
Characters- Blitzø, Moxxie, Millie, Loona, Stolas, Asmodeus, Fizzarolli
Show- Helluva Boss
Genre- romantic, yandere
Summary- Mini love letters from your not so secret stalkers admirers!
Warnings- swearing, pet names, yandere themes, mentions of planned kidnapping, stalking, delusional characters, unwanted attention
Word count- 1.5K
Extra notes- I have a Hazbin Hotel version of this uploaded as well!
key: f/l = first letter of your name, y/n = your name, n/n = your nickname
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By this point you know who it is y/n, I’m the only person COOL enough to send u romantic as fuck letters like the old people do
Sorry for eating the food u made last night, when i was raiding ur fridge it looked so fucking good (and it was, who knew u could cook :P). i left u a pony as a replacement, u can’t eat it but it’ll make u think of me ;) and that pony cost me a FUCK ton of money, collectors addition and shit. i know, bad fucking ass right??
the stupid shitty loud alarm u installed didn’t work when i came in, ud be much safer with me and loony. that’s the plan anyways babe, u have NO idea the fucking creeps that live down here, they’re all fucking animals and ur…not, a fucking asshole i guess.
i drew you smth (it’s the thing stuck on the back of the envelope with the glitter glu)
^glue
it’s me and u holding hands, like other couples do. we’re better than those corny fuckers tho, hence the crowns on our heads.
ignoring my texts, BLOCKING ME (still upset about this BY THE WAY) and then ignoring my very nice letters is kinda a dick move f/l, but it’s whatevs. everything is almost ready for ur move in. i cleaned up n everything :D
from the only bitch worth ur time,
blitzø
&lt;3 (ignore that, moxxie threw a gun at me and my hand slipped, might fire him)
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Hiya sweet cheeks!!!
It’s Mills here, just checking in! Via letter! Ain’t that just the fanciest little thing? Mox said it’s the best way to show thought and care to someone, so here’s all my thoughts and care, just for you!
How’ve you been? Good I hope, I’ve been just peachy thanks for asking! My Ma and Pa are super excited to meet ya one day, they’ve even started planning the wedding! Now I told them to slow their horses down, and not the overwhelm ya, we’ll get to that don’t you worry darlin.
Im just so excited to write this letter for you! Ain’t it so romantic?? I’m practically squealing in delight at the thought of you opening this and swoonin’, that’s what you’re doing, right?
Now i’m writing this on my break, and my boss really needs me back in the game! I got employ of the month! Most amount of kills, with the best and bloodiest results baby!
Until next time sweetheart,
Your Mills! ♡
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Hi y/n,
It’s Moxxie here, I was a little nervous to send this letter to you, but I always try to follow my heart, and my heart was telling me to communicate with you in the most romantic way I know how due to our current circumstances of being so far away. It’s hard, for the both of us i’m sure, but we’ll be okay y/n.
As much as I don’t get along with my father, he has been helpful with my preparations for your arrival. It’s a big deal, moving in together. I’m sure your anxious, I am too, but in the best way possible. Love is pure, and can make somebody feel whole, it’s a wonderful feeling. I never want that to be taken away from me, and you are the source of all my love. That’s why we need to be together, being only half a demon isn’t good for the soul.
We can do lots of fun things together as well, like go to the opera, or to musicals, or I can show you my shooting skills. My boss says that I have a pretty good shot, which is the biggest compliment he’s ever given me. And we can do things you like too, marriage is equal of course. Obviously, this will all happen later done the line, you’ll need time to adjust, and I understand that. I understand you.
I’m running out of room on my page, but I will write to you again tomorrow. Please respond? Just once, y/n? It’d be nice, to hold something from you since I can’t hold you yet.
All my love,
Your Moxxie <3
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Uh, hi?
Wait, you don’t put ‘uh’ in letters do you? Or put wait whilst you think, fuck shit fuck
Sorry, I’m new to this. Normally I just send a text to people but, your phone is off at the moment I think? Or you lost it? Or you blocked me?
Either way, I’ll send you these stupid letter things until it’s back on. So, uh, what are you up to? Blitz has been up my ass about meeting you, heads up, when I come get you and bring you to our room he’s gonna go all psycho dad mode and integrate you, but he’ll back off after a while. He’s a dick sure, but he does want me to be happy. And your, likeable or whatever, so i’m sure you’ll get along.
Once you get comfortable at home with me, Blitz said you could work with me at I.M.P. You’ll be like the co-secretary or something. You won’t be put in danger, I won’t let that happen, you’ll just get to sit with me. We can watch things together, if you wanted.
I guess i’ll see you soon, how do you end these?
See you,
Love from,
Regards?
Bye y/n,
Loona.
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My dearest y/n,
I hope this letter finds you well. I yearn for your presence here, besides me. It’s quite lonely without you, I will admit my dear. It would be oh so wonderful if you could write back. I understand you may be preoccupied with your current activities, but I can’t help myself from desiring a response. I know, it’s selfish of me to expect you to reply to my letters when you’ll be here with me shortly, but I can’t keep my thoughts at bay at the moment.
Your face is a constant in my mind, night and day, asleep and awake, your voice in my mind calms me when I need it most, your smile brightens the bleariest of moments and so on. You can imagine the difficulties I’m facing with no response from you, but that’s alright. If you can’t write back to me dear, I won’t pressure you. Your time is precious, and we will have all the time in hell quite soon. Isn’t that exciting?
I can give you the life you deserve n/n, any luxuries or mundanities you wish for will be handed to you on a silver platter. Or a golden one, if that’s more to your liking? We can properly discuss the specifics once we are together. How thrilling, the though of you and I together at last.
We truly are written in the stars!
Yours until the end of the sky and then some,
Stolas.
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Hey there baby,
It’s been a while, huh? I’m sorry if you feel neglected babe, it’s so hard keeping in contact with you when you’re so far away hun. Wouldn’t it be so much better if you were here with me? Sure I’ve got a lot of meetings, being a sin and all, but I’d be at your beck and call n/n, you could even be my new excuse to leave those awful “business” discussions. They barely talk business with me, it’s just complete bullshit babe.
I know the lust ring can be intimidating, we have quite the reputation, but I assure you, love is not a foreign concept to me. Romance is one of my most favourite things! Though that’s a secret, let’s keep that between us, yeah? That side of me is reserved for you n/n.
It’s so boring over here without you, I feel like i’m just lounging around and last time I checked, I was the lust sin, not the sloth sin. We’d have so much fun together babe! Can’t you picture it? Even if you can’t yet, I can wait. Having you near me will be enough, you are enough just as you are.
Sincerely yours,
Asmodeus (Ozzie) xoxo
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Heya cutie!
Letters are a lot harder to write than I thought they’d be y’know? I’ve rewritten this like 16 times already, sheesh. It just feels so awkward, I can’t see your reaction to my words which means I can’t fix any mistakes I’ve made :(. I’m sure I haven’t made any though! Right? This letters going really well so far and is definitely wooing you, right, y/n?
Hah, I’m asking questions as if you can reply right away. Silly old me, I don’t know what i’m worrying about! We’re meant to be together. I know it’s super sappy, but we’re like soulmates. Soulmates are bound to be together! That’s why I’m bringing you home soon, I can’t wait! I’ve got sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo many awesome tricks to show you!
And, the best news, I quit my job!! ༘⋆-ˋˏ ༘⋆-ˋˏ This means, we will have a LOT more time with each other, and you don’t have to worry about Mammon being possessive over me, because fuck him! I’m my own clown! Or, well, your clown.
I can’t wait to see you! This is going to be great for us, I pinky promise :P
Love from,
Fizzarolli !!!! ༘⋆!!,-!ˋˏ!!!
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387 notes · View notes
ssprayberrythings · 6 months
Text
two worlds collide | LN4
lando norris x actress!reader / smau fic 
fc: madelyn cline 
warnings: none, i just enjoy overindulging with fluff 
i got so carried away with this but honestly i’m proud of it so i hope you enjoy. also obx is one of my favourite shows which is why i decided on mads as my f/c so i could incorporate two of my passions !! 
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yourusername posted on their instagram
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ynismylife, ynloverr, iloveyn & others liked 
bored of these hotel rooms 
view all comments 
ynismylife: OMG MOM 
iloveynyl: SHES STUNNING 
ynsluvrr: IM DROOLING SHES SO PRETTY 
iloveyn: I WANT TO MARRY HER 
fanofyn: HOW IS SHE SINGLE 
╰ ynismylife: BEATS ME, I WOULD DATE HER IN A HEARTBEAT 
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yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: made it back home in enough time for the race 🏎️
*replies disabled* 
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madisonbaileybabe posted on their instagram
📍charleston, north carolina 
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obxluvrr, obxislife, maybankloverr, ynismylife & others liked 
the girls are back 
tagged: @yourusername 
view all comments 
obx4life: AH THEYRE BOTH SO PRETTY 
ynfan: Y/N ONE CHANCE PLEASE 
user5: drooling..
user7: cant tell if i want to be them or be with them 
yourusername: i was missing you big time 🫂
╰ liked by madisonbaileybabe 
ynupdates_ posted on their instagram 
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ynislife, obxfan, user5 & others liked 
y/n seen out with madison bailey the other night. happy to see the two outer banks co stars hangout even during their time off 
*comments disabled* 
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yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: where could we be going now @yourbestfriend 
╰ yourbestfriend: AH YOUR FANS ARE GONNA GO CRAZY WHEN THEY SEE US THIS WEEKEND 
yourbestfriend posted on their instagram
📍las vegas, nevada  
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ynfan, user20, user1 & others liked 
thanks y/n for being famous and taking me with you to cool events 🎰
tagged: @yourusername 
view all comments 
ynfan: AHHHH THEYRE IN LAS VEGAS 
user2: wish my best friend was famous, must be nice 
ynislife: wait does anyone know if the grand prix for f1 is happening this weekend too? cause y/n is an f1 fan and thAT WOULD BE SO COOL IF SHE WENT 
╰ f1fan: yes the vegas grand prix is this weekend !! 
╰ ynislife: omg OMG omg OMG 
yourusername: you’re welcome, no one else i’d rather have by my side 😘
╰ liked by yourbestfriend 
user7: y/n travels a lot and still manages to look like that? what is her skincare routine 😩
╰ user1: I WAS WONDERING THE SAME THING 
yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: this weekend is one for the books i can already tell 🤩
╰ f1: cant wait to see you in the paddock !! 
╰ yourbestfriend: super excited !! 
╰ redbullracing: thanks for joining us as a guest of red bull :) 
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redbullracing posted on their instagram  
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yourusername, maxverstappen1, landonorris & others liked 
what a great weekend in las vegas full of so much excitement with both of our drivers making podium, getting to see lots of stars come out & once again securing another win under our belt towards that final championship. keep up the good work everyone 🏆
#RedBullRacing #LasVegasGP
tagged: maxverstappen1, schecoperez, gordanramsey, sirrodstewart, yourusername 
view all comments 
ynfan: omg omg omg omg she met max ????
f1fan: Y/N WITH MAX WAS A CROSSOVER I NEVER REALIZED I NEEDED 
f1updates: people in paddock this weekend said Y/N was so happy to be there and was so grateful for the opportunity 
yourusername: thank you again for having me. its a weekend i’ll never forget ! 
╰ redbullracing: thanks for accepting our invitation, hope to see you around the paddock more often ! 
ynismylove: is no one talking about lando being in red bull’s likes ?? is that normal ?? 
╰ verstappenmaxfan: im not too sure now that i think about it 
Max was quietly scrolling on his phone after the Las Vegas grand prix, enjoying some down time before the final race of the season . He was just absently looking on tiktok when he received a phone call from none other than Lando. 
“Lando, mate how are you doing after the Las Vegas grand prix?” Max asked, knowing Lando had been taken to medic after his nasty crash at the recent grand prix 
“I’m good, still a bit sore but I’ve gotten the clear to race in the upcoming race so I’m looking forward to that” Lando explained “Thats not why I’m calling though” he continued 
“Oh. What’s up then?” Max asked slightly confused 
“Y/N Y/L/N was at the Las Vegas grand prix and you met her? How was she? She got invited by Red Bull, how did that work? Is she as pretty in person as she is on social media?” Lando rambled on 
“Lando take a breath” Max chuckled “But yes she was there, invited by Red Bull. I think they just reached out to her and asked if she wanted to come. How is she? Dude I don’t know, she’s nice, kept thanking everyone for the invitation, she told us she’s a massive F1 fan which was cool” Max answered the boys questions 
“And as for her looks, I have a girlfriend however yes she looks the same in person as she does in the media” He rolled his eyes even if Lando couldn’t see him. “Why are you so curious?” He asked his friend trying to understand where all this was coming from 
“She’s been one of my biggest celebrity crushes and I was so looking forward to hopefully getting to meet her when I found out she’d be there but then I crashed” He chuckled slightly at how much he sounded like a little kid “Then I saw you met her and just wanted to see what she was like” He explained to Max 
Max let out a laugh before answering the younger driver “Well Mate, you should have McLaren invite her to the final race of the season, this way you’ll get to meet her” Max suggested “Im sure she’ll accept, I believe she said filming for her show hasn’t started yet so she’s available” He explained to Lando 
“Ohhh maybe I’ll mention it to the admin team” Lando said more as a thought than a concrete response “Anyways I have to go, Oscar and I are filming a PR video. Thanks Max, see you in a couple days” Lando said before hanging up before Max could say anything else 
Max just laughed “Bye to you to” he said out loud before going back to scrolling on his phone. 
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yourbestfriend posted on their story  
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caption: little beach picnic before she’s off again to her next destination 
╰ yourusername: they said i could bring a +1, you can still come 🥺
╰ yourbestfriend: i have back to back shoots or else i would 🥺
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yourusername posted on their story
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caption: another day, another f1 race 🧡
╰ yourbestfriend: omg you made it! cant wait to hear all about it! 
╰ mclaren: so happy to have you join us for the last race of the season! 
yourusername posted on their instagram  
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ynislife, f1fan, landonorris, mclaren & others liked 
thanks mclaren for inviting me this weekend especially for the last race of the season. i had such a pleasure getting to meet everyone. cant wait for the 2024 season🧡
tagged: landonorris, mclaren
view all comments 
ynfan: OMGGGG SHE WENT TO ANOTHER RACE AND THIS TIME SHE WAS INVITED BY MCLAREN 
f1fan: I’M NOT DOING WELL 
mclarenlove: SHE LOOKS SO GOOD IN ORANGE WOOOO
mclaren: the pleasure was all ours, hopefully we get to see you in our garage more often, orange seems to be your colour 😉
╰ liked by yourusername
landonorris: it was so nice getting to meet you, we should hangout again
╰ user4: wait is this lando flirting? 
╰ user14: LANDO NORRIZ MAY ACTUALLY HAVE RIZ 
╰ yourusername: it was nice getting to meet you too & i’d love to hangout sometime 
╰ ynfanforlife: omMGGGGG WAIT I NEED TO KNOW WHAT LANDO DID IN ORDER TO WIN OUR GIRL OVER 
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yourusername posted on their instagram          
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landonorris, oscarpiastri, yourbestfriend, obx, ynylnismylove & others liked 
my life recently on film 🎞️ 
tagged: madisonbaileybabe, oscarpiastri, landonorris, chasestokes, drewstarkey, yourbestfriend
view all comments 
ynfan: OMG OBX X F1 CROSSOVER 
ynxf1lovers: OMG MY FAVES 
yourbestfriend: crazy time in sin city 🎰🍹🪩
╰ liked by yourusername 
chasestokes: living ur best life miss y/n 
╰ yourusername: you know it 😎
f1wagupdates: i know she’s not an official wag but can we make an exception cause i need to see y/n at more races 
╰ user4: AGREED ^ 
╰ ynloverr: A MOOD !!! 
oscarpiastri: youre such a vibe 
╰ yourusername: thank you thank you, i try 
╰ landonorris: send me the film pics, i need them for the .jpg account 
╰ yourusername: you got it ! 
landonorris: i feel so honoured to be featured on here 
╰ yourusername: you should, only the people i really like get posted 
╰ landonorris: is that you admitting you like me? ive been swooned 
╰ yourusername: 🙄
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lando.jpg posted on their instagram 
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yourusername, oscarpiastri, landonorris, yourbestfriend & others liked 
y/n making her debut on the .jpg account 
tagged: yourusername 
view all comments 
user4: WOOO EVERYONE WAKE UP LANDO POSTED ON THE .JPG ACCOUNT 
landoobsessed: OMGGGG THESE PHOTOS ARE STUNNING 
ynfanforlife: OMG Y/N IS STUNNING AS ALWAYS 
oscarpiastri: its giving soft launch 
╰ landonorris: no its not 
╰ liked by yourusername 
yourbestfriend: UHM Y/N CARE TO EXPLAIN @yourusername 
╰ yourusername: nope..im good 
user4: SO ARE WE ALL FREAKING OUT OR IS IT JUST ME 
╰ user5: I AM TOO 
╰ y/nfan: ME THREE 
╰ user15: ME X4 
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yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: 🧡 
╰ yourbestfriend: HELLO???? THIS IS SO RELATIONSHIPY, I NEED DETAILS 
╰ yourusername: ITS NOT A RELATIONSHIP….I MEAN NOT YET 
╰ yourbestfriend: OMGGGGG 
landonorris posted on their story  
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caption: this is the best you’re gonna get with a soft launch 
╰ oscarpiastri: is it a soft launch if you’ve already posted her on the .jpg account 🤔
╰ landonorris: get out 
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yourusername posted on their instagram  
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landonorris, yourbestfriend, obx & others liked 
certified lover girl 
view all comments 
yourbestfriend: my best friend is a stunner
╰ yourusername: says you 
obx: consider us certified y/n lovers 
╰ yourusername: i love you guys 
ynfan: SHES GLOWING FOR REAL 
landoandynaremyparents: PLEASE JUST TELL ME YOU AND LANDO ARE DATING SO I CAN REST IN PEACE 
landonorris: no comment, im speechless 
╰ yourusername: youre not slick 
oscarpiastri: Y/N LANDOS REACTION TO THIS WAS PRICELESS, YOU CAUGHT HIM SO OFF GUARD 
╰ yourusername: hehe thanks for the live update 🤭
╰ landonorris: OSCAR GET OUT…again 
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yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: when he takes you to paris
*replies disabled* 
landonorris posted on their story  
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caption: i brought her to paris 
*replies disabled* 
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yourusername posted on their instagram  
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landonorris, yourbestfriend, madisonbaileybabe, ynloverr & others liked 
kissed by the sun☀️💋
tagged: landonorris 
view all comments 
yourbestfriend: i’ve never seen you so happy, the “sun” looks good on you 😉
╰ liked by yourusername
ynisthebest: C’MON ARE THEY SERIOUSLY NOT GONNA CONFIRM THIS, ITS SO OBVIOUS THEYRE DATING 
f1fan: I JUST WANT WHAT THEY HAVE 
╰ ynfan: YOU AND ME BOTH 
landonorris: wait when did you take that photo ?
╰ yourusername: when you had a zoom call with the team & you thought i was napping 🤭
╰ landonorris: youre sneaky, i love it 
╰ liked by yourusername  
obxloverr: goals, actual goals 
landonorris posted on their story  
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caption: when she makes you dinner >>> 
╰ oscarpiastri: when are you gonna start calling her your girlfriend publicly 
╰ landonorris: when we’re both ready, its fun doing this and seeing how people react, yourself included 
╰ oscarpiastri: 🙄🙄
-
yourusername posted on their instagram   
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landonorris, oscarpiastri, yourbestfriend, ynfan & others liked 
ask and you shall receive; yes we’re dating 🧡
tagged: landonorris
view all comments 
landonorris: now i can publicly comment on how much i adore you 
╰ yourusername: youre such a simp, i love it, never stop 
╰ landonorris: don’t plan on it 
╰ oscarpiastri: not looking forward to third wheeling once the season starts up again 
╰ landonorris: HAHAHA that sounds like a you problem 
╰ yourusername: OSC IGNORE HIM, WE LOVE YOU 
╰ landonorris: BABEEEEE
yourbestfriend: can he fight ? cause if he hurts you, i go full bestie protective mode 
╰ yourusername: HAHAHAH i appreiciate you, more than you know 
╰ landonorris: i don’t plan on hurting her, you have my word 🫡
╰ yourbestfriend: good answer 
ynfan: THEY REALLY ARE THE CUTEST 
f1wagupdates: NEW WAG, I REPEAT NEW WAG ADDED TO THE LIST!!! 
user4: CANT WAIT FOR THE Y/N PADDOCK CONTENT ONCE RACES START 
user15: I’M SO HAPPY FOR THEM 
landonorris posted on their instagram    
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yourusername, f1fan, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 & others liked 
found my other half 🫂
tagged: yourusername 
view all comments 
yourusername: never met anyone more into film and photography, other than myself..😍
╰ landonorris: thats why we work 😏
╰ liked by yourusername
f1fan: living for this 
ynfan: STOPPPP 
maxverstappen1: siri play mastermind by taylor swift
╰ landonorris: STOP GET OUT 
╰ yourusername: wait WHAT DOES HE MEAN? TELL ME 
╰ landonorris: no
╰ yourusername: pleaseeeeeeee
╰ landonorris: respectfully, no 
╰ yourusername: 😠
You looked up from your phone, eyeing Lando across the room also on his phone “what is Max talking about?” You asked him this time in person 
“Nothing” he said not looking up from his phone
You got up, going to sit next to him “Babe, c’mon I’m sure it is nothing, I just want to know” you explained, you were just curious 
Lando looked up from his phone meeting your eyes “Okay fine” he said as he locked his phone and turned his body to be facing you “Its really not a big deal but before you and I met, even before you got invited by Mclaren, I reached out to Max cause I had seen at the Las Vegas grand prix you met eachother” he started
“And I was kind of upset, maybe even a little jealous that I crashed out and didn’t get the chance to meet you, so I called Max and asked what you were like” He chuckled to himself, it sounded funnier saying this out loud 
“Okay but why were you upset you didn’t get to meet me?” You asked, not fully understanding what he was getting at
“You were one of my biggest celebrity crushes” He told you a small blush appearing on his face “Which is why when I didn’t get to meet you after Vegas, I may have mentioned to someone on the admin team to reach out and invite you to the last race of the season” He finished 
“Wait so you already had a crush on me before we even met? Lando thats so cute” You smiled at him “I get why Max commented that now, you really were the mastermind, I’m impressed” You smirked 
“Really? You don’t think its weird or anything?” He asked for reassurance 
“Not at all” You told him, moving closer to him on the couch “If you hadn’t have done what you did, who knows if we’d be here right now” You explained smiling at him, Lando returning the same smile 
“I cant imagine not having you in my life” He exclaimed, playing with the rings you had on your fingers “The feelings mutual” You told him leaning in and giving him a quick kiss on the lips before pulling back and cuddling into his side enjoying this moment. 
-
yourusername posted on their instagram  
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landonorris, maxverstappen1, yourbestfriend & others liked 
never stop being mine 🥹
tagged: landonorris 
view all comments 
landonorris: i don’t plan on it, youre stuck with me 🥹
╰ yourusername: sounds good to me 
maxverstappen1: happy everything worked out for you two 
╰ liked by yourusername & landonorris 
ynfan: mom and dad 
f1fan: endgame 
ynislife: our girl found her happily ever after 
obx: y/n we couldn’t be happier for you and feel free to bring him around once filming starts, maybe we can sneak him in as a cameo 😉
╰ yourusername: OMG DONT TELL HIM THAT 
╰ landonorris: WAIT FOR REAL 
╰ yourusername: no they’re joking..
╰ obx: maybe we are, maybe we aren’t, who knows 🤷🏻‍♀️
╰ obxfan4life: the obx admin knows what the fans want 
f1fanxobx: THE F1 X OBX: CROSSOVER OF THE CENTURY 
-
that was so fun to write, i hope you enjoyed it !!
feel free to comment thoughts and/or make requests !! 🫶
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won4ver · 3 months
Note
hii, eires!! so i just saw your prompt list (super comprehensive, i'm in awe) and this idea immediately popped into my head as i was reading through them: their friends find out you’re not as scary as you look + you rub your cheek against their chest
and in my mind, riki starts dating someone but he's always been secretive about her when it came to the other members. they only ever saw her in passing since he doesn't want to hang out with her at the dorms where 6 other (stinky) boys live. and she has a very cool/cold aura about her and a rbf (much like riki 😭) so they worry she's mean or up to no good but in the scenario they stumble upon a cute and fluffy scene where riki and her are all lovey w each other :> and teasing ensues and riki gets all embarrassed and grumpy and she ends up being nice lol. it doesn't have to include all 7 of them, and you can pick any other prompts or ideas!! but that's my suggestion, yea :D
✈︎ the perfect moment
pairing : idol!bf!riki x fem!reader
warnings + genre : slight angst. fluff. teasing. riki gets angry and storms off. height difference.
wc : 2k
a/n : HIII N STOP I LOVE YOUR REQ SM??? i literally loved writing this so much, you’re literally a genius. i hope you like it, and that it lines up with your expectations! this was my first ever request so i’m a bit nervous lol. PLS LMK HOW I DID🫶🫶
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“Have you spoken with Riki today?” Jay looked up from his phone at Heeseung’s worried tone, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried recalling a time he talked with their youngest member within the last twenty four hours.
“Uh no, why?” Jay tried not to let his nervousness show, barely stopping his voice from wavering. It wasn’t unusual for Riki to be away from his phone during their days off. If anything, it was expected of him.
Ever since he’d gotten together with you, he’d always spend his free time with you, typically spending the entire time at your apartment. 
But what wasn’t usual was him going no contact the entire day. Usually, he’d pop a few messages every couple of hours, informing his members about his plans and his sleeping arrangements.
“He hasn’t responded to anyone’s messages, Jake is getting worried because Riki told him that he’d call around noon and it’s-” Heeseung made a show of turning his lit-up phone screen towards Jay, bold numbers in the top center, “already seven.”
As if to confirm Heeseung’s words, Jake began spamming their group chat, questioning every single member about his whereabouts.
Jay gasped as he remembered his last conversation with Riki, one that took place just as he caught Riki leaving around six in the morning. “He’s with YN. I’m pretty sure they went to her family’s place in Incheon for lunch.”
Heeseung suddenly recalled Riki informing them about his trip a few nights ago, an excited smile on his face as he rambled to his members about how much he’d been looking forward to today. 
“Oh” The two boys shared a look, their expressions clearly troubled as they both thought back on the same memory. They didn’t mean to completely dismiss Riki’s excitement. They wanted to be excited for him, but it was hard.
They both remembered the way they all grimaced as they heard your name, their evident disapproval showcased on their faces. It was clear to everyone that they didn’t approve of you, well it was clear to everyone except for Riki up until that moment.
They all watched as his face dropped, confusion filling his eyes as he questioned them about their expression. Heeseung almost wished he could go back in time to stop himself from humiliating you in front of everyone, to stop himself from making his wrongful assumptions in front of your boyfriend.
He could hear his own words loud in his ears as if he said it all over again. “Riki, I don’t think she’s right for you. She’s never once shown any intention to even meet any of us, she just seems stand-offish.”
If that didn’t completely throw your boyfriend off, then his leaders following words definitely did. “She doesn’t seem like a good person to be around, I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen her smile.” 
Heeseung saw the way Riki completely hardened at their words, his eyes glaring holes into them as he stood up from his chair. He could feel the way he flinched when Riki’s chair screeched against their dorm floor as he stormed outside, his house shoes still on.
“I feel bad about what happened that day.” Heeseung shook out of his reverie as he glanced over at Jay, his eyes glazed over the same way. “He’s barely said a single word to any of us since then. He literally gave me the cold shoulder yesterday!” 
It was clear to everyone in the group how much Riki cherished you. They saw it in the way his entire body perked up at your name. Or in the way they all watched him stay up late making little origami bouquets for you even when he had an early schedule.
It was so easy to dismiss all his acts of love because they’d never seen the two of you in action, only seeing a small glimpse of you as their managers dropped Riki off at your apartment for your weekly sleepovers. Or when they caught sight of you sitting in their company lobby while waiting for your boyfriend, head cladded in black headphones.
They all remembered the way you’d react when you caught them looking, the way you’d avoid their eyes and look down at the floor. Your oversized jeans and graphic hoodies didn’t help with their image of you either, your style matching their youngest perfectly. 
Those small peaks were enough for them to form their own opinions of you, enough for their dislike of you to build to the point of spilling in front of your boyfriend.
Jay felt his phone buzzing in his hand, a phone call from Jungwon coming in as his and Heeseung’s conversation paused. “Hello?” Heeseung couldn’t hear what Jungwon was saying over the quiet radio, their manager ignoring their conversation as he sat bobbing his head in the front. 
“Okay, Heeseung and I will reach the dorm first, once we get home I’ll try calling Riki again.” As soon as Jay ended the call he was quick to summarize their entire conversation, Heeseung nodding along as he agreed to call Riki as soon as they returned.
Their dorm was completely silent as they unlocked the door, all lights turned off sans for the smallest ray peeking from under Riki’s door.
Both boys’ eyes widened as they saw two pairs of shoes beside the door, a small awe of amazement leaving Heeseung’s mouth as he saw their matching shoes. “Jay, look! They literally have matching dunks.” He bent down to untie his shoes, eyes never leaving the smaller pair. 
“Her feet are so small, how tall is she?” Heeseung shrugged in response, their limited knowledge about you showing in their questions.
“Riki told me that she’s five three, she literally barely reaches his bicep.” Both boys jumped in shock as Jake appeared behind them, Sunghoon, Jungwon, and Sunoo following close behind him.
“You actually almost just gave me a heart attack” Sunoo snickered at the two boys before he paused in front of them, just now also noticing the shoes sitting beside the door. “Oh my god?” He gasped, a hand flying over his lips as his eyes sparked. “I think that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen?”
Jungwon leaned over Jake’s shoulder to see what everyone was staring at, regret coming back in full force as he recalled what he said to Riki.
Everyone settled down on their couch, their outer attire still around their shoulders and they relaxed for a minute. Through the silence in the living room, they were able to hear a small feminine giggle, one followed by a laugh they recognized as Riki’s right away. 
Jungwon stood up from his spot, tilting his head towards the door with wide eyes. They all stood frozen in spot as they finally heard the quiet music coming from his room, barely loud enough to hear over your giggles.
All the boys shared a knowing look, deciding this was the moment they’d finally properly meet you. They all stood around Riki’s door, Jake in the front as he gently grabbed the door handle. They all watched with bated breaths as the door opened, releasing it as they saw that neither of you heard it.
All their jaws dropped at the scene in front of them, the pure innocent scene in front of them not only melting their hearts but changing their thoughts on you.
The sight that welcomed them was one straight from a romcom, everything down to the way you looked into each other’s eyes was filled with nothing but love.
You stood in front of Riki, one hand entwined with his with your other wrapped tight around his waist. Your cheek was resting against his chest, chin pointed up as you looked him in the eyes with the brightest smile on your face.
Riki’s smile mirrored yours, hearts barreling out of his eyes as he held you tight against him.
Your feet were on top of his, sock-cladded heels elevated in the air as you stood on your tippy toes. For the first time since they’ve seen you finally ditched your jeans and an oversized sweater, both of you wearing your matching sets of lotte world pyjamas. Riki’s filled with small pictures of Lotty, and yours with Lorry.
Riki quietly hummed along to the music, playfully singing random parts to you. 
These moments together were his favourite, the soft ones that were shared between just the two of you. In your private world without the perceptions of others ruining your moment, it was perfect.
Well, it was perfect until Jay accidentally awed out loud, both your heads snapping towards Riki’s ajar door. Riki reacted before you, gently lowering you onto the ground and pushing you against his back, hiding you from the others’ view. 
Riki could feel your nervousness, your hands rubbing small shapes into his stomach as you held him tighter. Riki glared at his members as he felt your heart racing against his back, his protectiveness coming out in waves as he broadened his stance to hide you better.
“Is there something wrong?” Sunoo could barely keep his smile down, even with Riki’s glaring eyes he still looked completely harmless.
His long hair was done up in a half-up ponytail, his zigzag headband pushing his bangs out of his face. “You guys are so cute!” Riki raised an eyebrow at him in confusion, eyes losing their sharpness as the members started complimenting the two of you over each other. 
“Can you all leave, please? We’re kind of in the middle of something.” At your boyfriend’s surly wording, you gave him a soft nudge to the back. He quietly apologized to his members as they all gaped in amazement, “You got in to apologize with just a tap? We need you around more.” Riki turned red with embarrassment, closing his eyes tight as he focused on your hands around his waist.
You finally peeked out from behind your boyfriend’s back, automatically being met with all six boys staring at you with a soft look, small smiles greeting you as you looked from member to member. Riki felt you wiggling behind him, his protective instincts coming up again.
He turned his back to the members as he held you against his chest, looking down into your eyes for any sort of discomfort. When you nodded at him with a smile he finally stepped to the side, his hand clasped around yours as he pressed his side completely to yours.
Seeing your height difference in person differed completely from just hearing it from Jake. The actual image of the two of you beside each other was one they’d never forget. 
“Hey, you’re yn, right?” You nervously nodded your head towards Heeseung after looking into Riki’s eyes for reassurance. Heeseung smiled brightly at your cute acts, a tender affection filling whatever disapproval he held before.
Heeseung walked towards you, ignoring Riki’s warning looks, and reaching his hand out toward you. “I’m Heeseung, Riki’s eldest brother.” You wrapped your smaller hand around his own, your anxiety almost completely washing away at his gentleness.
“It’s nice to meet you. Riki had told me a lot about you.” Riki groaned out loud as you outed him, a soft whine of faux annoyance leaving his lips as he tugged on your entwined hands. “Don’t tell him that! That was supposed to be our secret.” You looked away from Heeseung to look at your boyfriend, a big smile on your lips as you gave him the softest look you could muster. 
“I mean it’s fine, you can tell them anything” Riki looked away from you with flushed cheeks, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth as he tried to hide his lovesick smile.
“I didn’t know you could slow dance, Riki.” The room erupted with laughter as your boyfriend groaned. You easily allowed him to disconnect your hands so he could tackle Jake in a headlock, loud “la la la”’s leaving his mouth as they all teased him.
“Riki, dance with me!” Heeseung joined them, acting like he was going to wrap his arms around Riki’s waist. “Baby, help me!” Riki tried calling you for backup, only to let out a sigh of betrayal as you joined their teasing.
Even if your relationship with his members started off rocky, there was nothing any of you would change about this moment. It was completely perfect.
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strangesem · 1 year
Text
hobie brown x goth!reader
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a/n: I’m not goth but I am alt and borrow from a lot of traditional goth stuff so this request was really exciting for me :,))
requested by @buncom420 !! I’ll do the other one in a different post I just need some more time :)
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first of all if you do goth makeup (full or partial) he thinks it’s so sick
you’d definitely hit it off immediately; I find members of different alternative subcultures mix together well and you two would be no different!
hobie loves how different your style is and how it defies societal expectations/norms
he could watch you get ready for literal hours on end he loves watching you put together clothes, accessories, shoes, etc and pairing it all with matching makeup
side note he definitely sees your makeup as a form of art and treats it as such; he’d probably ask you to teach him how to do individual parts slowly over time so one day he can try to do it for you
he might steal some of your accessories tbh-
but it’s okay bc he’d let you take whatever you want of his until he returns them
although he definitely prefers casual hangout dates he’d be down to see a goth show every once in a while!! alternative subcultures tend to overlap a bit so if he ever hears about a goth event he’d remember to bring it up to you
loves visiting you as spider-punk but there’s definitely some sort of meme out there with a picture of you two that says “goth/punk solidarity” or something lol-
he’s not super into goth music or anything but he will admit he prefers it to mainstream stuff and will learn your favourite songs on the guitar
would also def combine goth/punk elements in a song for you!!
if anyone ever made a distasteful comment about your style he’d definitely tell them to fuck off and stop preaching the establishments bs
if you somehow have similar shoe sizes he would also steal your boots I’m being serious
*if* you’re a spider-person and your suit was also goth inspired?? he thinks you look super cool
would def want to talk about how you integrated certain aspects into your suit
maybe you could even bounce ideas off each other on how to add more stuff to each others suits??
if you know anything about it you should talk to him about different subcultures within the goth community he’d find it really interesting
in return he’d describe different sectors of the punk movement/community!!
I honestly picture hobie dating someone who’s also alt in some way so this is the perfect combination tbh!! and he’d love you sm
reminder that hobie headcanon requests are open!!
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ultralightpoe · 6 months
Text
Full House ll - Eddie Munson
Authors Note: Went from cute fluff to straight angst. Sorry?
Warnings: Domestic Violence (not Eddie and reader though), angst angst angst. A fight.
Word count: 10,009 (ohhhhhh boy)
Part l HERE
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(THANK YOU FOR THE GIF @feodor-dostoevsky)
(Warning. This chapter contains hints of domestic violence and if any of my readers are going through that you deserve better. I love you all, also Motley will be showing signs of abuse this chapter. It's a long chapter that I'm really nervous about and I really hope you guys like it <3)
Enjoy!
Eddie had been in a pissy mood on Halloween morning of his second year as a senior, mostly because his friends that had graduated last year were all going out to awesome college parties and he was stuck redoing school. Embarrassed and alone. 
But he sucked it up, wearing his favorite leather jean combo as he walked into the halls of hell, keeping his head down while people passed by him in a flurry, excitement and laughter in the air. 
He had planned to just keep his head down and make it to class, no need to get into something with Harrington and his cronies. He had enough of their teasing and bullshit to get him by for the rest of the year. 
Normally it was fine since he had friends, but now he was alone. 
A body slamming into a locker pulls his attention to where someone in a rustic leather jacket was slamming one of the juniors into the wall of metal. The kid being assaulted was called Jeff, he was the only black kid in the grade and Eddie had seen him around a lot. The kid didn’t hang out with anyone and seemed lonely. 
Shit. 
The one slamming him was Billy Hargrove, a new kid that seemed to immediately become one of the cool ones. He spent most his classes not caring and any free time harassing everyone else. Eddie had his fair share of issues with him already. 
It would be a good idea to just walk away and let them handle this on their own, but Eddie could not do that. If there was one thing his dad taught him it was that he could take a punch and his Uncle Wayne always told him that you should always stand up for the weaker man. Even if Eddie wasn’t strong enough to beat Billy “steroids” Hargrove, he was strong enough to take a hit for someone else. 
A sigh falls through him as he makes his way over, tapping the shoulder of the assailant quickly, the second Billy has his eyes on him Eddie shoves him quickly. 
Billy reacts in an instant, hands clenching into his jacket, swinging Eddie around until it was his back being slammed into the lockers. A grunt passes his lips as he sends Jeff a quick look to escape while he can, the kid gives him a grateful smile as he snatches his backpack and dashes off. 
“If it isn’t the super senior!” Billy laughs bitterly, pulling Eddie forward and shoving him back into the lockers harshly. 
Don’t hit him. Don’t hit him. Don’t hit him. 
“What you doing here bud?! Trying to get your ass-“ Eddie loses some of his patience after the third hit into the lockers and hits Billy’s hands off of him, shoving him back enough that Billy nearly trips over his feet. 
Gasps fall from the crowd as Billy glares, staring wide eyed at him as he sneers. Eddie tries to play it cool, the anticipation of a fight howling beneath his skin as he preps himself. 
Before they can get into it Steve Harrington pops up, his back to Eddie as he watches Billy. “Not that I don't want to see how the freak handles business but the principal is on the way.” 
Billy casts one more glare, walking off quickly as Harrington turns to Eddie. 
“You stupid or some-“ 
“Yeah yeah. We get it Harrington. I’m a repeat senior.” Eddie snaps, rolling his shoulders to relieve some of the pain. “Why don’t you find a new joke?” 
“Sorry, I was just trying to make sure you were good.” Steve sighs, rubbing the back of his neck before moving to pick up what Eddie had dropped. 
“I don’t need help from you.” Eddie snaps, snatching the lunch box he had gotten from Uncle Wayne and walking off quickly. 
-
Eddie had spent the better part of that year dealing with Hargroves shit, the only thing that made him feel better was the fact that Steve Harrington seemed to be having his own issues with Billy. Then the summer between his second senior year and his third Billy Hargrove died. 
Eddie had avoided the pool that entire summer but he heard about it from Jeff the day the mall caught on fire. The next thing he knew Max was moving into the trailer near his and Wayne’s and everyone was bothering her and her mother about it all but they seemed like they didn’t want to talk about it. 
After he dealt with VECNA they all explained a little about what happened, and when El closed the gates and fixed the time warp she ended up bringing a couple people back. That’s how he came back. 
No one had seen Billy, so everyone assumed he didn’t come back. Even Barb had shown back up (though her memory was hazy on everything). 
Now, Billy Hargrove stood in the doorway of his home, catching Motley when she ran to him with an easy smile. “There’s my baby!” 
Eddie doesn’t know what to do, stuck between anger and shock, watching this play out before him as Ziggy grabs at his jaw. The little toddler leans to kiss his cheek, a wet open mouth kiss that normally makes Eddie laugh, but this time he just stands there. Waiting for the “just kidding!” Or someone to pinch him so he can wake up. 
“Sugar,” Billy starts, keeping Motley in his arms as he stares at Eddie. It takes him a moment to realize that when he says sugar he is talking to you. “Why is there a drug dealer holding my daughter?” 
“I can explain-“ you start, watching Eddie angrily set up the crib in your shared room, jaw tensed and eyes heavy with anger. “Eds please.” 
“You don’t need to explain.” He snaps, turning quickly. “No actually. You do. What the fuck?”
“I met him a couple years back. Okay? It was a one night stand from a bar, he was new in town and I ended up getting pregnant. After that he said he wanted to stay together because of the baby and I didn’t want to parent alone so I said yes-“ 
“So you’d rather have parented with a racist jackass then?” He laughs bitterly. You draw back, eyes wide as he does so before he sees you get defensive. 
“I didn’t know about any of that. Okay? He was sweet with me for the most part-“ 
“For the most part?” 
“He had moments of anger, sometimes I got hit. But he always made up for it. And then I got pregnant again and I thought I was happy and then….” You trail off then, shaking a bit. “I left for a reason.” 
“He hit you? More than once?” Eddie bites out, hands on his hips. 
“It was fine-“ 
“No no no. It wasn’t fine. But the fact that you’re saying it was fine and you say he made up for it means that you didn’t leave because he hit you, you left for another reason.” He sees you get nervous under his gaze and he knows he’s figuring out. Anger coursed through him at the fact that Billy had ever laid a hand on you in the first place but it’s beginning to reach tenfold when he puts the pieces together. “He hit Motley?” 
“I-“
“You were okay with him hitting you, which makes me upset that you thought you deserved that, but the second he hit Motley you ran.” He fills in the blanks, watching as you crumble before his eyes with tears falling freely. 
“Ohmygod-“ you sob, covering your eyes. 
“And that’s why you’re so weird around Max because when you came out here you recognized her, right? And when we all shared the truth of what happened you recognized Billy in it? And you didn’t say anything because-“ 
“What was I supposed to say Eddie?! That I was dumb enough to fall for it?! That I slept with a racist abusive asshole one night drunk and then agreed to let him move in with me because I was scared even though I knew nothing about him?!” You snap, tears streaming down your face. “You guys would have thought the worst of me. You guys are going to think the worst of me- maybe I should just grab the girls and go get a hotel-“
“Hey hey hey.” He eases, reaching for you as you stand up to leave. His hands find your hips and he pulls you in for a hug. “No. I’m sorry.” 
“Don’t be sorry-“ 
“I’m sorry. I’m over reacting and being a pain in the ass because I’m surprised is all.” He mumbles, kissing your head and keeping his nose pressed into your hair. “You are very brave for leaving him, yeah? And I’m so sorry that you had to go through that, you’re not stupid you were just played. You always think the best of people and you are so fucking brave for getting the girls out of there.” 
He lets you sob into his chest for a minute, rubbing your back in comfort as he holds you to him tightly. 
Eddie was gonna figure this out. He was gonna find a way to get Billy Hargrove out of his life for good. 
-
The morning was always filled with excitement, mostly on Motley's part. She loved getting ready for the day, for all the things she would do. She loved talking yours and Eddie’s ear off about the plans for the day. Then she would be crankier when she got home and she knew it was time for bed, but Eddie loved her in the mornings because he loved seeing her excitement. 
He wore his glasses in the morning, while he helped get them ready for the day since you both liked to tag team the morning and get the process done faster. This morning was his turn for Motley, who currently sat at the table blabbering on about how she was excited for secret santa while Eddie sat at the stove watching the pancakes bubble. 
“-and I keep thinking what if Vinny gets me? He will probably get me the dumbest thing ever and I would be so upset. But what if Troy gets me, oh I hope Troy gets my name- Daddy are you listening?” 
“I’m listening, pretty girl.” He smiles, looking over her shoulder where she sat coloring. “You hope Troy gets you. Cause you have a big ole crush on him.” 
“DO NOT!” She yells which makes him laugh and turn back to the pancakes. Before he knows it he feels a pair of arms wrap around him, with you kissing along his exposed back slowly while ge fights off the blush. 
“You cooking bacon without a shirt, handsome?” You smile and he tries not to laugh. 
“I can’t feel half the skin on my stomach anyways.” The scars made sure of that. “You want a piece of bacon?” 
“I’ll wait to eat with you and the girls. Did we get any yogurt on our last trip to the store?” You ask, moving to the fridge to check. Eddie takes a moment to admire you before looking to where Ziggy sits in her high chair, playing with a piece of paper that Motley gave her. 
“Morning metal head.” He coos, walking forward to kiss her head. She giggles and claps before Motley follows what Eddie did, kissing her sisters head. 
“Come here Daddy.” She smiles, and he bends down to let her kiss his forehead which makes her laugh. 
He sets them both up with plates, eating breakfast quickly before rushing to get a shirt on as you bring them both to the door to get them in shoes. When he gets back he finds Motley with her arms crossed and shaking her head. 
“What’s going on?” 
“She found out Steve is taking her to school.” You sigh, trying to grab her foot. 
“I want Papa to take me. He said he wanted to!” She snaps and Eddie watches you tense up, choosing to intervene here. 
“I got this, go grab her bag.” He smiles, switching spots with you. “Alright. No playing around. Metalheads put their shoes on when told.” 
“But daddy-“ 
“Ah.” He holds up a finger and she sighs before grabbing the left shoe and moving to put it on her right. “Wait. This is a good time to teach you left from right.” 
“I’ve got time.” She smiles , watching him. 
“Alright. This is left,” he holds out his left hand, the metal bracelet he always wears drawing Ziggys attention as she waddles closer. 
Motley holds out her right hand, repeating “left.” 
“No. That’s right.” 
“I’m right?” 
“No. That hand is right.” 
“Yeah daddy. I know I’m right.” She scoffs, staring at him like he’s insane. 
“No pretty girl. You’re opposite of me, like a mirror. So if this is my left hand you’re left hand would be….” He picks up her left hand, wiggling it a bit. 
“Oh. So this would be my right hand.” She mumbles, shaking her right hand. 
“Exactly. So if this is your left shoe it would go on…..” 
“MY LEFT FOOT!” She yells excitedly which makes him smile. 
“You got it! You rockstar!” He helps her tie it, letting her rest her foot on his thigh before switching the feet and tying the next shoe. 
“We ready to go?” You ask, coming around the corner and smiling. 
“Daddy taught me my left from right, Mommy!” She giggles, rushing to get her bag and holding your hand as you lead her out of the house with Eddie close behind, Ziggy in his arms trying to reach for the bandana on his head. 
“Hey Uncle Steve,” she calls, running up to him to hug him. “I know my left from right!” 
“You’re a genius kid!” He smiles. You pull her attention, kissing her forehead before kissing Steve’s cheek. Eddie follows, kissing Motley then snatching Steve and kissing his cheek which makes everyone laugh. Ziggy coos the second she sees Steve and he instantly makes grabby hands at her. 
“There she is, my pretty little angel.” He coos, bouncing her up and down as Motley climbs in his car between his two sons. Vinny glares while Jackson waves his grubby little hands. The kid was four and thought the best thing to eat was a crayon. 
“You know what gender the baby is yet?” You ask, watching Steve with Ziggy. 
“No. But Nancy is sure it’s another boy.” He sighs out. “And she wants to name one after her brother.” 
“Do we need another Mike?” Eddie laughs which makes Steve laugh as well. 
“That’s what I said!”
“Alright, I have to head off. Drop Ziggy off at daycare before work. Have a wonderful day boys.” You smile, grabbing Ziggy from Steve who sighs in disappointment, before kissing Eddie and heading off to your car. 
Steve turns to Eddie, a raised brow, he opens his mouth to start asking but Eddie holds up a hand. “Nuh uh. We don’t talk about within hearing age of Motley.”
“Why’s that?” Steve asks, squinting. “She get upset?”
“The opposite.”
“But the guys a massive dick!”
“And that’s her dad.”
“You’re her dad.”
“No, I’m the step dad.” Eddie sighs, something clenching in his gut. “I gotta get going. Thanks for dropping Motty off.”
The thought that he was just the step dad stuck, it clung to him like a second skin, sticking like a shadow over the sun. He thought about it while he tucked the girls in, and when he woke them up. He worried over the thought of Billy fighting for custody and turning the girls against Eddie. 
He was just the step-dad. 
This is what he was thinking about as he changed the oil on one of the cars in the shop, a frown stuck to his face as music played in the background. It was Dylans, the other repairman that worked today, turn for the stereo and he was playing all the rock hits. Which included ‘rock you like a hurricane.’
And all Eddie could imagine was his girls having a dance party but instead of him being there it was Billy. Billy dancing with them to all the music and-
“HI DADDY!” Motley shouts, making Eddie gasp in shock, whipping his head to find her on all fours so she could see him under the car. 
“Hi pretty girl.” He smiles, using the cart to roll out from under the car and sit up, whipping the bandana off his hair as she whirls around the car to attack him, roaring like a tiger as she jumps on him. “What are you doing here?”
“School let out early today, they have their christmas party tomorrow and then winter break.” You explain, walking around the car with Ziggy on your hip, still wearing the cute diner uniform. “Motley wanted to come grab you for lunch.”
“Oh yeah?” He smiles, laughing when she slips a bit and he has to catch her before she hits the floor. “Where do you wanna go?”
“Pizza.”
“Pizza?!” He acts shocked, eyes wide as she begins laughing. “Well I don’t know about that…. I don’t really know if I like pizza.”
“You LOVE pizza.” She scoffs, jumping up and dashing to the radio to turn it down. “Does Dylan want pizza?”
“Why thank you for asking little lady.” Dylan smiles, wiping his hands on his suit. “I love pizza.”
“Hear that daddy? We have to go get pizza for Dylan.” Motley sasses, coming back over to snatch Eddie’s bigger hand between her own. “Get uppppp!”
She groans as she tries to lift him, and Eddie picks himself up so she thinks she was able to do it. “Jesus you are strong.”
“I pulled a secret santa today, and you’ll never guess who I got!”
“Troy?” 
“No.” She sighs, disappointed for just a moment before her face lights up again. “I got Samantha, she likes jump rope.”
“Yeah? Is that what we are gonna get her then?” He chuckles, moving to wash his hands as you go and put Ziggy in the car. 
“Well I don’t know. I don’t want my gift to be too basic and not surprising. But I want to make sure she actually likes it. And do you think-” Eddie lets her ramble, grabbing her hand and leading her to the car as she goes on and on about the ideas she has for gifts. 
-
The store was busy when Eddie took Motley Christmas shopping, holding her hand in his own as walked across the street and headed into the warmth. He had been more focused on making sure she wore a coat then grabbing a coat heavy enough for himself. 
The second she is in the store her eyes widen and she makes a mad dash to the kids aisle, Eddie right behind her trying to slow her down a bit. 
“Alright, take a look and see what you might like to get Samantha.” He huffs, breathing into his palms to warm up his face, ignoring the weird look he gets from a do-good mom passing by in her expensive shoes. 
He had gotten used to the looks by now, it’s not like he screamed father with his leather jacket and tattoos, but you always told him that he was a better father than any country club dad you had ever met. And he was constantly lecturing Motley that ‘it’s what’s on the inside that counts’ so how would this be different?
“How about this?” She asks, picking up a barbie car that makes Eddie’s eyes go wide. 
“Isn’t there a price limit on this thing?” He blurts, moving to check before she is completely gone and looking at something else. 
“Can I get a dollhouse?”
“For Samantha?”
“No, for me silly..” She laughs, like it was the most obvious thing.
“We are supposed to be shopping for your secret santa cheeseball.”
“Oh, right.” She sighs, moving back to the barbies. “How about for christmas?”
“Have you asked Santa?” Eddie smiles, and she shakes her head. “We’ll write a letter tonight, then.”
“Okay.” She giggles before pointing to a ken doll. “Hey daddy?”
“Yeah?”
“Santa already answered my wish this year.” She mumbles which makes Eddie look at her curiously. “Last year I asked Santa to bring my dad back. And he did even better.”
Eddie’s heart practically shatters as he tries to smile at her, the vast empty feeling at her words killing him. Of course, what little girl didn’t want her dad on christmas, and she wanted Billy. 
-
Steve was suspicious of him the entire Christmas party, giving Eddie the side eye every chance he could while you sat not far off with Nancy gossiping amongst yourselves. 
Steve was room mother, and as much as Eddie made fun of him for it his friend was an amazing room mother. He had thrown the class’ holiday party at his house rather than that stuffy classroom so that the parents could come as well. His house, which was already insanely decorated for Christmas, had tons of ‘activity stations’ for the kids to do. Motley and Vinny were currently arguing over what color gumdrops they wanted to put on their gingerbread house. 
Charles, Samantha's dad as Eddie found out, had wavered off after talking to Steve and himself for the past hour and finally the two men were left alone. “Who knew parenthood would be just like highschool again?”
“You’re telling me.” Steve snickers. “I feel like-”
“King Steve again?” Eddie taunts, shaking his head. 
“Oh no no. You can’t make fun of me since you’re apart of the cool kid club this round.”
“No I’m not-”
“Oh yes you are. Please, everyone talks about you and Y/n. One, all the moms think you are attractive and so gentleman like for taking on the girls. Two. The dads are jealous of you cause you have this cool rock thing going on while still being a parent. Three, everyone loves Motley. She is the class princess. Everyone wants to play with her at christmas, if she shows up to their birthday party then their year is made. Admit it Munson, you’re raising a prom queen.”
“I don’t think I have much to do on that front, and it’s more to do with I’m your friend and you are the Room Mom.”
“Shh not so loud.” Steve mutters. “Nancy has been feeling a little guilty about being ‘less of a mom’ cause she spends all day at work. I tried telling her it was fine but she thinks it’s a bad look that her husband is room mom and not the actual mom.”
“I don’t think it’s a bad look. I think it shows that Vinny is being raised by two people who understand life a little better than other stuck up parents.” 
“Thanks pal.” Steve sighs, leading them away so Eddie can go up and check on where they put Ziggy to nap. Steve had been nice enough to set up a little crib in his room so she wouldn’t have to be dragged around the party. 
They catch up on everything, Steve complains that he think Jaxon might just be a freaky kid considering the amount of crayons and pencils he eats and how Nancy babies him. He complains that Mike is the worst uncle and never actually helps but always claims to do so. 
Eddie catches Steve up on the Billy situation, which had shocked the group to no end. 
“He’s been calling everyday, arguing that he should get visitation.” Eddie sighs, taking a swig from the beer Steve smuggled for them. 
“That’s bullshit. Tell him no.”
“Y/n is worried that he could fight and get full custody.”
“Why on earth-”
“Because she took the girls and ran. She did it for their safety but the court will never look at it like that.” Eddie sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “All they will see is Hawkins very own mall hero being abandoned as she runs to Hawkins very own freak.”
“Motley and Y/n don’t think of you as a freak.”
“Maybe not. But Motley adores Billy, and that leaves me on the sidelines.”
“That’s not fair.” Steve sighs but Eddie shrugs. 
“You know how long I hated Wayne for taking me from my dad? That man hit me and all I did for years was look up to him and try to be better. I pushed away anyone that actually cared. I know what she is going through right now, and I don’t want to be the one to ruin that love she has for her dad. Shit person or not.”
“Would you rather ruin her dad for her or have her heart broken when she is exposed to him on her own?”
“I think if he ever hurt her I would actually-”
“Kill him. I’m so in.” Steve finishes the sentence before there is a quick knock on the door. 
“Dad!” Vinny whines. “Where’s the gift?! We are doing secret santa!”
Steve sighs, moving to his dresser to grab the wrapped gift before handing it to his son. Eddie waits to follow Vinny, surprised when he turns to him rather than immediately running away. 
“Will Motley like this wrapping paper?”
“Yeah? I think she’d love it.” Eddie smiles, watching in shock as the kids dashes out. “He got Motley? Bet he hated that.”
“Nah, he was worried she might now like the barbie car.”
“Wasn’t there a price limit on this thing?” Eddie asks, raising a brow. 
“My kid is head over heels for your daughter Munson. Just be happy Troy didn’t get her. Little punk thinks he’s everything.” Steve scoffs, walking past Eddie and mumbling under his breath about Troy being a little shit. 
-
There was a new form of hell to Eddie, not having his girls under the same roof was that hell. After a very long argument it was agreed that Billy would get them for the night, they would have a fun time at the shitty motel room. 
So, after a long night of pacing back and forth, Billy finally dropped the girls off around noon, smoking easily as he carried Ziggy’s car seat in one hand. 
“Really? Right by her?” Eddie snaps, grabbing the handle carefully as Ziggy coos up at him. 
“Didn’t think you would be one to care, Munson.” Billy laughs, looking past him to where Motley stood with a grumpy look and her bag around her shoulder. “You used to make sure our class was coked out just fine.”
“Motty go inside.” Eddie sighs, moving to open the door for her, getting a little nervous when she glares and stomps in. “Has she eaten?”
Only when he turns back to ask Billy the jackass is already halfway in his car, sending a cocky smile in Eddie’s direction as he turns the speaker up loud. 
Now left alone with the two girls since you were at work Eddie shuffles inside to go find where Motley stomped off to, finding her in her room sitting on the floor and playing with a toy he didn’t recognize. 
“New barbie?” He smiles, watching her carefully. This was the first time she had ever gone with her dad and he didn't know what to expect, maybe he had been hoping for a hug or kiss. “She’s very pretty-”
“Papa got her for me.” She bites out, voice dripping with attitude. 
“Okay. You hungry? I can make you-”
“LEAVE ME ALONE!” She screams, rushing to slam her door in his face, the tiffany poster she had on it staring back at him as he blinks in shock. There had been fits, a couple of screaming fits, she sometimes called him meanie head when he told her not to do something. But she had never before slammed a door in his face. 
Not really knowing what to do he decided to focus on bathing Ziggy first, making sure the smoke scent didn’t cling to her before setting her up to eat something. 
A couple hours later you came home, a nervous smile on your face as you looked at him only to realize he was upset. 
“What happened?” 
“She’s upset, won’t come out of her room.” He sighs. 
“Let me go check on her.” You mumble, kissing him before heading to her room and knocking softly. “Hey bugs? Why don’t you come out and say hi? Daddy can make something for dinner-“ 
“Eddie can fuck off!” She screams, which makes you freeze as Eddie’s heart drops and he leans his forehead on the wall. 
“Motley Marie-“
“NO!” She screams from the other side of the door and Eddie feels like he might throw up. 
“Maybe I should go to Wayne’s tonight?” He offers, shaking a bit as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “I need to help him fix the replace his fridge anyways” 
“Eds, no.” You mumble, tears welling up in your eyes as you shuffle closer. “She’ll be fine in a bit. We just need to get her to eat and-“ 
“She’s not gonna come out to eat if I’m here. I’ll come back tomorrow to see if she’s feeling better. Okay?” He tries, rubbing your arms in a comforting manner. “Just one night, maybe she will eat and calm down” 
You shake your head, crying, but you both already know the answer. And Eddie already knows this might not work out for him. 
-
After packing an overnight bag and heading off he makes it to his Uncle Wayne’s and spends the night there, hoping Motley would feel better if he wasn’t there. 
He helps Wayne sort out the kitchen, both of them planning on switching the fridges out in the morning now that his is empty. So, later in the night, Eddie lays on the couch staring at the ceiling. 
He couldn’t fall asleep without you beside him and he’s used to seeing the hall light under the door so the girls could see if they needed to get to the bathroom or your room. 
He tossed and turned, doing his best not to get too upset at all of it before he began thinking about all the ways this could go wrong. 
He never wanted to hurt the girls, and as much as he loved them and loved you there was always that thing about “if you love someone set them free.” So, as much as he hated it, he figured maybe it was time for some breathing space. Let Motley learn about her biological dad for a bit, and he would take whatever he could get even if it was just a dinner a month. Anything to make sure she didn’t hate him forever. 
So, around 6am, when he finally managed to close his eyes and get some sleep he had decided that the best plan of action was to give his girls breathing room. 
-
When he woke up Wayne was already starting on the fridge, which made Eddie realize just how much he had slept in. Jumping up quickly to start helping, he didn’t think to call you. 
They spent the next few hours moving the fridges and getting the new one set up, making sure everything was working before hauling the old one to the junkyard. By the time they were done the sun was going down and Eddie was starving so Wayne offered to order a pizza. 
The only problem was your car was at the trailer when they got back, with you sitting on the hood smiling at him as Wayne pulled his truck up to park. 
“Hi Grandpa Wayne.” You called which made the older man smile and hop out quickly to give you a kiss before moving to say hi to the girls in the back seat. 
Eddie moves to hug you, kissing you deeply before you pull back and smile. “You didn’t call, and we called this morning but no answer so I figured you boys were busy.”
“Sorry. I slept a little late and we were fighting that damn fridge all day.” He smiles. 
“We were thinking about going and getting dinner tonight, thought we’d come pick up daddy.” You offer, holding his hand. He casts a quick look to where Motley is sitting in the backseat, laughing as Wayne pretends to steal her book. 
Breathing room. 
“I actually got more stuff to help Wayne with. That okay?”  He could see you visibly deplete, trying your best to keep smiling. 
“Of course that’s okay. Just don’t forget to call okay?” 
“I won’t.” 
“You wanna say bye to the girls?” 
“I….Not tonight.” He feels like he’s stabbed himself in the gut and twisted the knife, his throat tightening up with the urge to cry. “I love you.” 
“I love you too.” You mumble. “And you’d tell me if something was wrong, right?” 
“Right.” He smiles, leaning to kiss your cheek. When you kiss him one last time you move to Wayne, tearing up a bit. 
“Enjoy your handyman Wayne. But I expect him back tomorrow by dinner, got it grandpa?” 
Wayne, to his credit, smiles politely and nods. Mumbling something about making Eddie work overtime as you laugh, he hears Ziggy blubber sadly, probably upset that she’s in her car seat. 
He spots Motley when you open your door to get in, leaning against the window already staring at him. There is a glum look on her expression and Eddie feels that stab wound tighten. She hates him, she can’t even smile when she sees him anymore. Billy must have told her what a fuckimg freak he was. 
Instead of crawling into the hole he wants to, he merely raises a hand slowly to wave, attempting to seem like everything was fine. 
She raised her own hand, and Eddie thinks he’s mistaken when she presses it to the glass of the window as you drive off. 
“You okay?” Wayne asks, rubbing his boys shoulder. 
“Not really.” 
-
True to his word Eddie calls the next morning, only to be surprised when he hears Motleys voice answer. 
“Hello?” She asks. 
“Hey Mot…ley.” Eddie panics , thinking that she might now like her nicknames now. “I called for your ma.” 
“Oh.” She mumbles, obviously disappointed that it was him. “I can go get her……” 
“Not if she’s busy, okay? I can call back later.” He hears her set the phone down and scamper off, feet hitting the hardwood of the kitchen as she rushes to find you. A couple minutes goes by and he hears both your voices trickle back into hearing distance, probably from the downstairs hallway. 
“- dy Eddie. He just wanted to talk to you.” He hears Motley mumble, and that shooting pain was back. Eddie. She called him Eddie again. 
Panic claws at him as he hears your footsteps get closer and he hangs up quickly, wiping the tears from his eyes. 
-
After helping Wayne around the trailer he returns that evening, feeling lame and tired. Kicking his shoes off in the doorway, hearing your music downstairs which tells him you had probably started reading once putting the girls to bed. 
He planned to shower and then go see you, so he makes his way to the room, shucking his jacket off and tossing it on the bed in the dark. 
“Heyyy.” Someone whines, making him stop and look to the bed to see Motley climbing out from the blankets and pillows, eyes wide. “Watch it.” 
“Sorry kid,” he smiles, moving to grab the jacket. “Didn’t see ya there.” 
She giggles softly, moving to the middle of the bed and turning on the light before going back to her spot. He gives her a soft smile before moving to grab clothes and heading to the master bathroom only for her to call out. 
“I’m sorry.” 
“For what?” He asks, turning with wide eyes. 
“I’m sorry I was mean and hurt your feelings. I’m sorry I made you mad.” Tears well in her eyes as she says it which makes his chest clench. 
“Hey hey. I’m not mad.” He says softly, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, she immediately crawls over and crawls into his lap. 
“You are! That’s why you didn’t want to come home!” She cries. “You hate me now.” 
“No no. Take a breath.” He tries to calm her down, rubbing her back in soft circles as she sucks in a deep breath. 
“I made you mad…”
“You didn’t make me mad, I just had to help Grandpa Wayne with some stuff. He’s old now. He needs help.” Eddie offers, still rubbing her back. She calms down a bit, face pressed into his chest as she slowly puts herself back to sleep. 
He carries her into her own room, making sure she’s nice and comfortable when he tucks her in before going back to the master bedroom to shower. 
When he comes back out he finds you waiting on the bed, a smile smile tugging st your lips. “Hey stud.” 
“Hi baby,” he whispers, moving to lay down. He gives you one kiss before laying down and shoving his face into the pillow quickly, desperate to sleep. 
“Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask, rubbing a hand on his back. 
“Nothing to talk about. I’m fine. Just wanted to give her space is all.” He sighs. 
“She loves you Eddie.” 
“I know.” He lies, closing his eyes to sleep 
-
Motley spent the next day at the Harrington household while Eddie and you went to shop for some last minute gifts you hadn’t gotten at the beginning of the month. 
With Christmas being only a week away now you were beginning to panic and Eddie was doing his best to ease your anxieties as you tried to think of what the girls would want. 
“I think we got everything.” You sigh out when you make it to the car, Eddie pushing the cart filled to the brim with bags as he rubs your back. There was something off about you today and he felt guilty that he hadn’t come home until late last night. 
“I think we did.” He moves away only to open the back of the van, beginning to pile all the bags in before he hears you gag and dash to the chunk of grass he parked near. 
“Shit- “ he snaps, tripping over himself as he tries to get to you to hold your hair. “You okay? Nervous about Christmas?” 
“Y-yeah…” you whine, rubbing the back of your hand under your nose to wipe the snot after you finish puking. “Over stressed myself is all.” 
He sighs, helping you up and getting you set up in the van before moving to finish his original task. 
He spends the rest of the day making sure you’re okay and wrapping the gifts. He tries to change his handwriting on the tags so Motley would think other people were signing them. Make her think she got a gift from Santa and the elves and one from Mrs. Claus before he took his coffee grounds and make a hoof print on the gift he had made from Rudolph. 
He hides them all in the basements laundry room, moving to wake you up when he’s done. 
-
Two days before Christmas Eve Motley and Ziggy go with Billy again, and Eddie makes himself scarce when they are dropped back off the next day, wanting to give Motley room to breathe in case she needs it. 
He hides in the basement, keeping his headphones in as he practices guitar, hearing the echo of stomping around upstairs. She had come home in another mood, that much he had figured out by the sounds of her yelling when she came in. 
The phone rings in the distance and Eddie ignores everything as he practices more riffs until your in front of him with a small smile. “That was Gareth. They wanted to rehearse? Asked if you could head over.” 
“Oh?” He asks, standing up. The perfect excuse to give Motley some space without hurting anyone’s feelings had just arrived and he was gonna take it. “I’ll head over now.” 
“Are you gonna be home for dinner?” You ask softly, face tense with worry and exhaustion. 
“We’ll probably practice too late.” He sighs, kissing you before moving to walk away. 
“Eds?” You call, making him look back at you as you stress. “Y-you’re okay…… right?” 
“I’m okay.” He lies. Really he feels pathetic, useless, a lame ass excuse for a stepdad. ……he feels like his father. 
She just needs space.  He thinks to himself, smiling at you. But deep down he already knows it’s not working. He loves his girls but if they don’t love him back then he is just dragging them down. 
And his heart breaks at the thought of the inevitable. 
I don’t wanna say bye.
As he passes the hallway to pack clothes for the night he sees that the Tiffany poster on Motleys door had been ripped down the middle, and he risks a peek in to find it the missing piece wadded in the trash along with her fleetwood poster she got around thanksgiving. 
Sighing in defeat he shuffles to grab his bag and head out. 
-
 The morning of Christmas Eve he wakes up to find that sometime in the night Motley had crawled into bed with you and Eddie, curled up between you two with tear streaks down her face. 
Nightmares, nasty little things. 
He kisses her cheek lightly before getting up to get ready for work. By the time he is putting on his boots he finds her yawning and sitting up. 
“Are you leaving?” 
“Only for a bit.” He tries to sound positive. “I’ll be back soon.” 
“Swear it?” She asks, eyes wide. 
“Triple swear it.” He smiles back, and something eases in him when a smile breaks out across her face, going from ear to ear. 
So he leans to kiss her cheek, taking the good mood while he can before heading to work and coming back home by 5. Only to find Billy’s Camaro in the driveway when he does come home. 
Walking into the house, tense and tired from the day, to find Billy sitting on the couch as you work in the kitchen. You send him a quick look and Eddie follows, rushing into the kitchen with you. 
“He invited himself for dinner.” You whisper. 
“Why?” 
“Because Motley told me I couldn’t come for Christmas morning.” Billy snaps from the doorway, leaning on it like he owned the place. “Which is really fucking weird considering that I’m her dad. I should be able to see her on Christmas. And I can only assume that you’re the one saying no Munson.” 
“Hadn’t even known that we had that discussion but sure. I’ll take the hit.” Eddie smiles. “Cause you are 1000% banned from this house on Christmas Day.” 
“You can’t separate me from my kids.” Billy snaps. 
“We’re not. You can have dinner with us tonight, but you can’t be here tomorrow.” There were far too many people coming tomorrow that Eddie did not want having to deal with Billy, and he didn’t want your day being ruined by this asshat. 
“I’d prefer the dinner to be a family occasion” Billy snipes. “And last I checked you weren’t.” 
“Eddie is family.” You snipe back, backing up when Billy glared at you. “This is our home. His home. He stays.” 
And before he knew it everyone was seated at the table, in the most uncomfortable dinner of his life. You were just pushing food around your plate, while Eddie was doing his best to stay cool. 
“How are your grades Motley?” Billy asks, turning a heavy look to her. 
“I’m one of the top in my class-“ 
“One of?” Billy interrupts. 
“They have top three. They all tie in that spot so the kids don’t lose self esteem in the competition.” Eddie explains, tapping a ring on the table in annoyance. 
“That’s bullshit. If her grades are the best then that needs to be said-“ 
“She’s doing fine. Her grades will help win a pizza party at the end of the year.” You snap, rubbing her cheek. 
“I just want to make sure I’m not raising a retard that turns into a super senior.” 
“What’s that mean?” Motley asks, wide eyed as Ziggy shoves some spaghetti in her mouth. 
“Oh baby, it’s noth-“ you begin but Eddie cuts you off, looking her gently. 
“It means I wasn’t good in school. I got held back from graduating for three years. That’s right. I was held back another year after you…. Well you know.” 
“You got something to say to me, jackass?” 
“Not really.” Eddie snipes, picking up his plate and heading to the kitchen before he loses his temper. Lucky him that Billy was set to follow. 
“So this is where Motley gets all that attitude huh?! Some shit for brain pathetic piece of shit starts raising my daughter, showing her shit music and telling her the world is all rainbows and sunshine. Right?!” 
“We’ll she’s 7. The world is supposed to be a little brighter-“ Eddie starts, watching as Billy grabs the front of his jacket and shoves him into the cabinets behind him. 
“You think you’re something, huh?! Well you’re nothing more than a trailer trash piece of shit!” Billy yells in his face, and Eddie remains bland. Not letting any motion on his face as he shrugs. 
Motley was going to hate him. 
This would never work because your kids needed to come first, and Eddie knew that. He would always put them first. If he stayed with you Motley would soon begin to resent you. 
He couldn’t let that happen. 
“No. I don’t think I’m anything more than a piece of shit. I’m quite good in that life.” He shrugs. “And it’s not shit music that she was listening to, it was her choice of music. Music she liked, and if she likes it then it’s not shit.” 
Billy laughs bitterly, then Eddie can do nothing but watch his hand pull back into a fist, getting him right in the face. 
Pain shoots through his face as his head hits the cupboard behind him hearing the wood crack at the impact. Motley screams out loud “DADDY!” And Eddie assumes she’s screaming for Billy to stop. 
He didn’t want to hit her dad in front of her, so he took it. Punch after punch from Billy before you jump on the man’s back, hitting him to get him off Eddie. 
Billy pushes you off quickly, making you tumble to the floor as Motley runs for you before you try and ease her back. Eddie can’t feel his face but he knows it’s swollen and bloody, spitting out the taste of iron as he swipes a hand under his nose, pain shooting through him when he does so. 
Motley is still screaming, over and over “DADDY DADDY!” And when Billy takes one aggressive step over to where she is in your arms Eddie finally loses it. 
He shoves at Billy’s back, drawing his attention back and taking one quick swing across Billy’s cheek. One of his rings slices his cheek as Billy’s head whips to the side. But Eddie doesn’t stop, too built up on protective rage. 
Ziggy is screaming in the background, Motley crying for her dad while you hold her back. Eddie takes a couple more hits, pushing Billy to the door so they wouldn’t have an audience. Only problem is the second Eddie pushes Billy out he finds a cop car already waiting, the cop hopping out and rushing to the scene. 
-
Christmas morning was spent inside a jail cell with a broken nose, Eddie laying on one of the benches staring up at the ceiling and trying not to think about how much his face hurt right now. 
One of the neighbors had heard yelling and called the cops, who had taken 15 minutes to respond. And since Eddie didn’t start hitting back until the end he could only assume that meant he had taken nearly 15 minutes of that beating. 
What a fucking coward. 
He had hit Billy in front of Motley. Oh my god her entire Christmas would be ruined right now. He was an absolute piece of shit. 
“Hey kid?” Someone calls, making Eddie try to open his unswollen eye and see. Hopper stood there in mundane clothes, sighing in disappointment. “Thought we agreed last time I arrested you that it would be the last time.” 
“What can I say?” He croaks out, dropping his head again. “I’m trailer trash. Always have been and always will be.” 
“Come on pity party.” Hopper sighs, unlocking the door. “You’ve been cleared. Witness statements.” 
So they had questioned you. Fuck. 
When he grabs his rings and jacket from the clerk he doesn’t bother putting them on, keeping everything in the bag including his chain and wallet. He puts the shoes on, groaning in pain when he bends over, before moving to see that Wayne had come to pick him up. 
“Uncle Wayne,” Eddie grunts, not bothering to smile due to the cut on his lip and cheek. 
Wayne doesn’t say anything, merely leads Eddie out, keeping a hand on his arm to help lead him to the car since he can only open one eye. 
When they are both jn Wayne lights a cigarette, handing it to his nephew. “Have some before we get there. Relax you a bit.” 
“Get where?”  
“Your house? It’s Christmas? We agreed I’d bring gifts for the girls and get a nice meal?” Wayne asks. 
“No. I’m not going there. Not like this and not after that.” Eddie snaps, tears falling from his eye as he thinks about it. That would just ruin Motleys Christmas even more. He couldn’t do that. 
“I just wanna sleep.” 
“Edward Wayne Munson.” 
“Wayne John Munson.” 
The sigh that falls from his uncles lips tells Eddie that he won. 
-
(A POV from you? Gasp!) 
After watching Eddie and Billy both get arrested you had to give a statement to the police, not like you could actually get a word out considering you were sobbing. 
Eddie was bleeding profusely and could barely open his eye when they dragged him to the car, Motley sobbing at your hip as they did so. The officer talking to you tried to calm you down, rubbing your back in a soothing motion that didn’t work and only stressed you out more. You begged them to let Eddie go but the officer said it was protocol and that you should call in the morning to give your statement. 
But you didn’t. You sat there with that cop until you calmed down and gave a proper statement, he said he would write a report and get it all sorted so you took Motley in. Getting both girls showered and ready for bed. After tucking them in, still crying, you found yourself moving to the kitchen to clean up the mess. Starting with the the broken glass that had fallen, then the dishes before you moved to scrub the floor, crying harder when you had to scrub Eddie’s blood. 
At some point Motley came out, rushing into your arms to keep sobbing so you took her back to yours and Eddie’s room to try and get her to sleep there. You put her in one of Eddie’s sweatshirts before laying with her and trying to calm her down. 
“He hurt daddy.” She sobs. 
“Honey, Eddie was just trying to-“ 
“No. Billy hurt Daddy.” She explains. “It’s my fault. I told him he couldn’t come over on Christmas!” 
There it was. You had wondered since Billy brought it up, you hadn’t said anything and Eddie hadn’t. So why had Motley? 
“Why would you do that Motley? That was an adult decision that you should have let me tell him. I don’t want you getting in trouble because-“ 
“He’s mean to daddy, I didn’t want him bullying daddy! Okay?!” She cries, swiping her cheeks. “But now Daddy hates me! He hates me mama!” 
“No. He doesn’t. He doesn’t hate you, okay?” 
“He does!” 
It took all but 30 minutes to lure Motley out of room after Eddie left for Wayne’s, promising her some chicken nuggets for dinner and that was it. 
She ate silently with you before bath time, then when you sat with her on the couch before her bedtime while Ziggy slept in her crib, you noticed her watching the door every 2 minutes. 
“What’s wrong?” You whisper, smoothing out her still damp hair. 
“Is daddy Eddie coming back for bedtime?” She asks, scratching her arm. “He always lays with me.” 
“He’s gonna be at Grandpa Wayne’s tonight. Helping him out with something. We will see him tomorrow, okay metalhead?” 
“Okay.” 
Only when you called the next morning there was no answer, Motley getting dressed beside you with a look of excitement on her face as it rang. 
“Is he there? Ask him when he’ll be home!” 
“He didn’t pick up ,baby, I’m sure they are busy. We will see him later okay? Maybe we can have dinner at the diner.” 
And that’s what she talked about for the rest of the day, you tried asking about her time at Billy’s but she simply shut the conversation down. By the time dinner time came about she was upset that Eddie hadn’t come back so you offered to go to Grandpa Wayne’s and pick them up. 
You had been there for about 5 minutes when the van pulled up and you could hear the gasps of excitement from Motley when Eddie hops out. 
Inviting him to dinner, only for Eddie to be nervous and say no. He looked upset, and you were beginning to panic deep down. 
Please don’t leave us. I love you. You wanted to say but you were pretty sure that would scare him off more. 
Who wanted the mother of two with the racist abusive ex? Right?
When you drove off without him Motley was just as upset. “Why didn’t he come mama?” 
“He had some more stuff to help with.” You answer, smiling at her through the mirror. 
“Why didn’t he say hi?” 
“He’s just not feeling good.” Lie lie lie. 
The next day you were doing laundry while Motley was dashing around upstairs and Ziggy was waddling around you. 
The sound of the phone ringing didn’t draw your attention since you were too busy trying to kick the washing machine into working. But when your daughter dashed down the stairs you looked at her. 
“PHONE!” 
“Who is it?”  You ask, laughing at her excitement as you snatch Ziggy up and follow her up the stairs. 
“Daddy Eddie. He just wants to talk to you though.” And you found yourself rushing to the phone, only when you got there it was just the dial tone. 
“Is he coming home? Can I do his hair when he gets back?” She asks hopefully. 
“Maybe later.” 
By the time you realized he was back Motley was on her own bed and the shower to your shared bathroom was running so you laid on the bed waiting for him to come out. 
When he did your heart beat out of your chest, nervous and in love. 
He laid down, face in the pillow as you let him know Motley loved him. 
All he could say was “I know” before falling asleep and you were heartbroken. 
He’s gonna leave. 
Two days before Christmas Eve when Motley is dropped off from Billys  he doesn’t say a word, merely tosses her bag at you as he slams his car door and drives off. 
Motley storms past you, pushing into the door as you carry Ziggy in, watching her in shock. “I HATE HIM AND I HATE YOU!” 
Eddie, who had been waiting in the kitchen, sulks downstairs to give her space and you feel a twist in your gut. “That’s not fair to Eddie, Mot.” 
“I’m not talking about Eddie. I’m talking about HIM!” She screams, stomping to her room and ripping the poster from her door. 
“Hey!” You snap, following her and trying to get her to stop as she tears down the Elvis and Fleetwood Mac poster. 
“I HATE HIM I HATE HIM I HATE HIM! It’s bullshit!” She screams, slamming the door. Only she slams it so hard it creaks open a little. Before you could make it worse the phone rings and you find yourself heading downstairs to tell Eddie about the call. 
The excitement on his face breaks your heart as you realize he is so desperate to get away from you. Jesus you trapped him didn’t you? 
By the time Motley comes out of her room she looks around for a minute, sitting at the table. “Where’s daddy?” 
“Band practice.” You smile. 
“When will he be back?” 
“Don’t worry about that. Just eat.” You felt bad about the short answer. But you were upset about the way she was acting and you were upset that she said she hated you. Not to mention the way she ripped the posters and the way Eddie seemed to run from you. 
You already dragged her away from Billy once, now she was going to lose another father because of your mess. You were a terrible mother. 
She hates me , and so does Eddie. 
“He will be here, okay? Daddy would never miss Christmas.” You smile, crying softly yourself. “Just wait and see. Daddy will be home.” 
She calmed down a bit at your promise, laying beside you. 
“I asked santa for dad back last year….” She mumbles. “And he gave me an even better one.” 
“Yeah, he did.” 
You don’t get a lick of sleep, waiting all night for the sound of the door to open. They had to have released Eddie, right? 
You overthink it all as you sneak all the gifts out to the tree, ones that Eddie wrapped while you were sick and see all the dedication he put into them which just makes your heart melt more. 
When the sun starts coming up you realize that maybe no officers were there to release him and they would in the morning during normal processing hours so you focus on starting the meal and getting the girls ready. 
Motley refuses to go near her presents, choosing to wait for Eddie. You’re okay with it, letting Ziggy open a gift since you know it will take her forever. 
You focus on cooking while Motley waits on the couch watching out the window. 
But then people start showing up for the early dinner and you begin to let that panic sink in. Steve shows up, his two sons dashing for Motley as Nancy waddles in behind them. They thought three dishes that they add to the table. Steve asks about the broken cabinet but before you explain Lucas and Mike show up with their own dishes. 
One after one they all show up and sook enough you break from the crowd to go in your room and call the station. 
“I’m looking for Edward Munson? He should have been released by now but-“ 
“He was released two hours ago.” The kid on the phone sighs. “Anything else.” 
You don’t respond, choosing to hang out and close your door so your guests don’t see you cry. 
He wasn’t coming, you had messed everything up like usual. God you were pathetic. 
Just as Billy would say, useless as hell. 
Shuffling to the bathroom to try and catch your breath, turning on the water and sitting under it as you try to ease the panic attack. 
The pink pregnancy test box stares back at you from the trash bin, the actual test on the counter where you had planned to surprise Eddie. 
God I can’t do anything right. 
Part lll HERE
(OHHHH I really hope this chapter didn't disappoint. Please please please no hate on it! If you want to see something specific such as a blurb or scene with Eddie and the girls feel free to request. -Ultralight)
Taglist::: (Let me know if you want removed)
@localemofreak @paradise-summertime @jenniquinn @eddiesxangel @mariamayhemrsmunson @venuslayla23-blog @cherrycolas-things @scout141 @thehuntresswolf @natie335 @alyisdead @animechick555 @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @mysticpeachobject @jackiosstuff @slytherinroyalty16
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Text
Finished
Pairing: Henry Cavill x you
Prompt:Henry & y/n invited to his moms for thanksgiving. Mom also invites his ex.His mom is super strict so everyone is supposed to have separate rooms, mostly for his ex to slip into his room but she opens the door to find you sitting on his face.
This one was kind of tough but, ended up being a super fun story to write!Hope you guys enjoy it !Thanks for your ask, hope this lives up to the expectation.
“Are we going?” you ask quietly.
“Do you want to go?”  he says, cocking an eyebrow in your direction.
“I mean….. It’s your mother. We kinda have to.” he pulls you in closer letting out a low hmmm. 
“Yes. but, I don’t visit her often for a reason.” he says quietly. The heft of his arm and the sheets around you calling you to relaxation. 
“And what’s that reas-”
“She’s crazy.” he says bluntly. You laugh,immediately knowing he’s joking . It was very out of character for him to call anyone out of their name. Much less his own mother. You look up at him to notice he isn’t laughing, not even smiling.
“O Henry, come on! She is not crazy, I’m sure she just misses you. That’s why she calls so often.”
He caresses your face “My mother is a tiny, blonde psychopath. I love her with all my heart but, everytime I bring a woman home she gets so attached I- it’s hard to explain.” he trails off.
“Guess I’ll just have to meet her then!” you squeal sleepily into his chest before drifting away in an ocean of plans.
You packed, you brushed your teeth, and were ready early in time for the flight. Henry slept most of the way but, you were too filled with questions of if she would like you, and what he of all people meant by calling his mother an attached psychopath. The hours ticked away and you looked worriedly from the clock on your phone to Henry.
“Maybe she just forgot we were coming today?Should we call?” you ask
“Nooooo. No. She has forgotten nothing. This is what she does. Constantly trying to keep me on my toes, I guarantee you she’s up to something.”
You snort through your nose “Henry I guarantee your mother is not that malicious.”
“Have you met her yet?” he jokes flatly. Just then the car pulls up a decently clean but embarrassingly tiny red kia soul, flying like a bat out of hell. 
You exhale, taking a step off of the curb and waiting for your moment of truth.
She jumps out of the car and runs to her son, jumping into his arms. He smiles for a minute holding her and you see the light of a little boy flicker in him for a moment. He pulls back at the sound of the trunk popping open and begins to load the bags into the back for the weekend. 
“Mrs. Marianne I am just so excited to finally get to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you and I’m really excited to-” She cuts you off turning back to her son.
“And Hen you remember Ellen.”
That’s when you see her, a leggy blonde with a perfect smile stepping out of the car that just makes your heart drop. Ellen fucking Whitaker. Ofcourse, champion show jumping horse rider from a family of professional horse trainers and not to mention gorgeous but, most importantly Henry’s ex- fiance. 
“Cool, cool ,cool ,cool” you can hear yourself muttering under your breath trying not to explode.
“Mum this is y/n! She was very excited to be invited.” he confirms, giving you some comfort that he’s on your side. 
“Mmm. Well that’s darling.” she spins on her heels heading back towards the driver’s side of the car.
You follow Henry as you both hug Ellen and exchange your greetings. She seems to think his mother bringing her here is just as ridiculous as you do and while you still despise her presence that knowledge makes it vaguely reassuring that she hasn’t come to fight for his love. 
“Henry, dear sit up here with me I want to hear all about LA.” he rolls his eyes, making his way to the passenger side while you and Ellen assemble yourselves in the back of the tiny car with the luggage. You flip your phone over in your lap and notice a text from Henry. “I love you.Don’t stress out. She’s just like this.” you text him back a heart emoji but, it’d be a lie to pretend your heart wasn’t still caught in your throat. Not only did his mother refuse to acknowledge you. But, she brought some random ass woman that she obviously plans for Henry to be with instead. Actually , no.Not random, which is even worse! Am I spirialing ? I feel like I’m spiraling. You had completely zoned out of the sweet family reunion happening infront of you an attempted to string some words together in your head that would help you explain how you feel to him when you finally got alone time. You entered the driveway of the estate and his mother handed the keys to the valet , excusing herself and calling Ellen to follow her inside. Being excluded from the girl’s powwow didn’t bother you as much since if gave you a chance to speak to Henry. The Butler offered to help but, he insisted on doing it himself, calling him by name. And you were momentarily reminded of the things you did love about Henry. You followed behind him as he carried things to the room. You tried to make small talk with him as you unzipped your suitcase and began pulling out your necessities for your facewash routine. “O ummmm-” Henry looked at you as if trying to hide back from saying something. More bad information you were sure. 
“You actually have the room down the hall.”he says sheepishly.
“What do you mean?” your eyes widen despite your attempts to quell your emotion. He has to be crazy. There’s no other way to explain.
“My mom doesn’t want me to share a bed in her home unless its with the woman I’ve marrried.” he says , hands up in a defensive position. 
You exhale slowly repacking your things. “Sure. Ofcourse. What wouldn’t she want that.”
You knew it sounded bitter but, you couldn’t help it. 
“Hey -” he grabs your arm as you head towards the door, pulling you in and kissing you .His hand coming to your cheek, fingers resting on the back of your head, giving you the comfort he couldn’t offer with words. 
“Plus” he whispers into your lips “It will be fun to sneak around like kids for a few days.”You roll your eyes at him as his hands make their way to your ass. He gropes you for a bit before you escape his grasp headed to your room or Marianne created dungeon. Actually the room was quite nice. The flowers on the wall paper felt like a bit much but, the room got great sun and wasn’t to far from the bathroom . You liked that the estate had an old-timey feel of walking down the hall to use the toilet. Plus, it allowed you more excuses to be where Henry is. You unpacked your room and then sat on the bed next to your empty suitcase before exhaling,and finding the strength to get dressed for dinner. 
You stepped gently down the stairs ,trying to avoid the steps that creak when your hear the door close behind you. Looking up over the landing you see Henry at the top of the stairs.
“What are you doing?”he asks flatly.
You become aware of your hunched back and your body language from testing the step with your toe.
“I- I just don’t want to go.” you confessed.
He rushes in your direction, “Sweetheart you don’t have to.”
“No I mean I want to I just ….I was so excited to meet your mother and she just-”
“Listen” he leans against the wall scratching the side of his face. “I was trying to protect you. I should have tried to explain her more but it’s- she’s just so embarrassing. If you want, we can cut it short and go home tomorrow.” he seems genuinely saddened that his mom had been so rude. You hadn’t even had the chance to tackle Ellen’s presence before you hear a fumbling downstairs and his mother calling for him. He looks at you silently giving you time to decide. 
“I still want to try and win her over.” you whisper back to him. He laughs a little at your  determination and offers you his arm. You walk to dinner together and his presence gives you comfort.  
At dinner your seats are assigned. Shockingly your seat is not next to Henry’s but one of their family friend’s who was also visiting. You thought it a smart call on Marriane’s part. Had it just been the four of you for dinner the meal was sure to mostly be had in silence. You sat across from Henry and although he and Ellen had a few hushed moments this test actually caused you to feel more confident in your relationship. His mom was being a bitch but, when she did he’d nudge your foot under the table. This nudge eventually turned into a quiet game of footsies but, as adults your were grateful for the reminder that no matter how it seemed he was always prioritizing you. By the time dessert came you decided you wanted to try pushing the boundaries. His mother hadn’t said anything rude to you, she simply had not spoken to you at all. And if she had already decided she hated you  then there wasn’t much left for you to do but, enjoy the sculpture of a man that she had created. You slipped your foot from your shoe and let your footsies progress to you rubbing him through his pants with your foot. His eyes shoot to you across the table,but he doesn’t give you away. You can feel him growing harder under your toes as he melts into his chair. His face looks so small and innocent, looking at you, trying so hard to be in control, to be good. His mother hurls a few rude words but, you are to turned on by the view across from you to care. Once dismissed from the table, the tempered dash to the bedroom is quick. His hand presses into your back as he practically pushes you up the stairs. His room was the closest to the stairs , as you walked past he grabs your arm , pulling you in. 
“Heeeeey hey hey.” you whisper to him as he slips his hand up your dress. “I think your mother will notice if I’m not in my room.” he groans into you. “Shhhh. I’ll come back later” you pull back winking at him. He slowly removes his hand and you turn, switching out of the room. 
You promptly switch into your best lingerie and robe while counting the minutes, listening as the sounds of the house grow softer and softer. When the coast seems clear, you softly make your way to Henry’s room. You push the door open slowly trying to mitigate the creak as much as possible.You can see his figure sitting up in the dark. You drop your robe to the ground as he closes his book. “ I thought you’d never come!” he exhales. He places his book on the nightstand and you jump into bed, straddling him. His hands reach around to cup your ass and your grab him by the wrists. 
“Don’t touch.” you warn. He cocks his head to the side as if to question the change from your usual power exchange. 
“Only with your tongue.” you smile, leaning in to kiss him. He smiles coyly and you move yourself up the headboard of the bed. You grab onto it as he pulls your panties to the side. He hums into you and you are doing your best to keep quiet as you grip down onto the headboard beneath. You reach your other hand down cradling the back of his head while his tongue explores further into you. Biting your bottom lip in an attempt to keep from crying out ,you pull his hair and his hand smack your ass in response.
“Fuck” you exhale into the darkness and just then you hear the door creak open. 
“Oh no!” you turn around to see Ellen, and no sooner than you lock eyes, you grab the duvet pulling it over both of your bodies.Henry is confused and ends up being mostly exposed during the shuffle.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Ummm your mom told me to- I’m sorry I-” She turned , rushing out of the room; a flurry of nerves and embarrassment. The door slammed behind her and you both looked at eachother, momentarily embarrassed too. But, then you both broke into laugher. This entire trip had been absurd, this is almost just on brand. You lift your leg in an attempt to end your straddling of him , when he stops you with a hand to your lower back. Smiling while looking up at you he says 
“I wasn’t finished yet.” and you melt back into him. 
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auras-moonstone · 4 months
Text
the one — jack champion
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word count: 940
pairing: jack champion x interviewer!fem!reader
summary: y/n interviews her boyfriend jack at the sundance festival and they reminisce their last interview where they met a year ago.
warnings: fluff. this is a continuation of one of the first stories i wrote, it’s called enchanted to meet you ! i recommend you read it first to fully understand.
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After Jack asked Y/N out for dinner, the two of them became inseparable and started dating soon enough. The fans were ecstatic, having been cheering for them to get together the moment that interview was made.
Now, a year later, they were both flying to Salt Lake for the Sundance Festival, where Y/N would be interviewing and Jack’s new movie Freaky Tales would be screening. They were both excited for it because now they would be there supporting each other as a couple.
“Hi! You seem familiar.” Jack spoke with a teasing smile as he approached his girlfriend for an interview. The feeling of deja vu warmed his heart.
“Hi, Jack. Looking very handsome today.” she smiled tenderly. “Are you going to show me your socks this time?”
“Ugh, stop it.” he laughed as he covered his face in embarrassment.
“So, tell me about Lucid.” Jack started telling the viewers more about his character, and Y/N watched him with a smile on her face. She was so happy to be sharing this with him that she felt like crying, “What’s your favorite thing about the movie?”
“I absolutely love that it is set in the 80s. I actually have been trying to get in the mood during the filming, I made this playlist filled with punk music from that decade.”
“I’ve seen some pictures. The outfits were super cool.” his girlfriend added. “Are we going to see you covered in blood again?”
“Guess you’ll have to see for yourself.” he smirked. Y/N threw him a pleading glance. “You can’t use your girlfriend powers against me. That’s not fair, you know I can’t resist that look.”
“I’m doing it for the people. This was a highly requested question on twitter.” Y/N shrugged.
“Fine, just because it’s you.” he said with a grin. “Yes, I will be covered in blood.”
“Yes!” she exclaimed excitedly.
“What is it with you and blood?” he shook his head laughing.
“I’ll answer that when there’s no camera.” she blushed and he raised and eyebrow in amusement. “Moving on, is there something on your schedule for the next months?”
“Well, the shooting for Avatar 4 starts in a couple of weeks. Other than that, no. Just enjoying my time with my family and my very gorgeous, lovely, and very amazing interviewer, girlfriend.”
Y/N actually giggled, in front of the camera, like a schoolgirl with a crush. He was going to be the death of her. “Well, good for you, Jack. Thank you for your time.”
“For you? I always have time.” he winked. “Text me when you’re done with the interviews, remember you’re also here as my date.”
“How could I forget.” she laughed. “I’ll see you later. I’m proud of you.”
“I’m proud of you, too. I love you.” he wanted to kiss her so bad, but that would definitely be inappropriate so he settled for a tight hug.
“I love you.” she answered right before he left to take pictures.
An hour later, they were finally able to be together again. They were both dragging their feet towards the hotel, absolutely exhausted and drained. Plus, it was so cold that their fingers itched and their toes were practically numb.
“The interview made me a bit emotional.” Y/N spoke. Jack looked at her, urging her to go on. “It made me think of our last interview together, the day we met. I was so nervous that day, and when you appeared it both got worse and better.”
“Why?”
“On one hand, you were so gorgeous that it made me panic. I was scared that my tiny crush would ruin my first interview. And then, you started talking and subtlety guiding me through it… it instantly felt natural. I don’t think I would’ve been as good if I had to interview anyone else.”
“I think you’re wrong. You were just nervous because it was your first, you would’ve figured it out anyways. Yes, we did have an instant connection, but you’re an amazing interviewer. You love your job, you are passionate about it, and that makes people feel comfortable, because you make it like less of a dread.”
Y/N’s sight got blurred by the tears. “Thank you for saying that.”
“I’m just telling the truth, love. I watch every single interview you’ve done, and not once you had made people feel uncomfortable. You’re respectful, sweet and understanding. And you’ve grown so much, I meant it when I said I’m proud of you.”
“I meant it, too. That I’m proud of you and that I love you.”
“I love you, I’ll never get tired of saying it. And I got emotional, too. The deja vu hit me like a truck. I can’t believe it’s been one year. It seems so long ago, but at the same time it feels like time flew by so quickly.”
“Right?!” she exclaimed in agreement. “The interview I was dreading ended up changing my life for the better.”
“You’re so sweet.” he pressed a kiss on the tip of her nose. “I was smitten from the start, literally everyone called me out.”
Y/N laughed. “Maybe I wasn’t as obvious as you, because of the nerves and everything, but I was too. You were so charming.”
“Did I enchant you with my Ghostface socks?”
“Oh, most definitely. That was what made me know you were the one.”
“Am I the one?” he asked, losing the playful tone they had been exchanging.
“I know we’re only nineteen, but I feel like you are it for me.”
The words made his chest clench, in the best way possible. Looking down at her adoringly, he said “You’re it for me, too.”
haunted.ethan i didn’t realize how much i missed this🥺
fearlesslandry one year apart, same expressions of awe😫🫶🏻 best couple ever.
aurasmoonstone okay but i want to know what’s the answer to “what is it with you and blood?” 🤨
y/n.y/l/n that he looks so hot covered in blood😫
jackchampion oh? ☺️ y/n.y/l/n
y/n.y/l/n yes you should only take roles where blood is involved 😙 jackchampion
jackchampion consider it done y/n.y/l/n
y/n.y/l/n okay sidney prescott jackchampion
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queenofallimagines · 2 months
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Blue Lock boys and having a S/O who has a sex toy collection
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A/N: This is extremely self indulgent and came to me while browsing the internet. Part one of 2 and These are also all real toys so if you know exactly what I’m talking about lmao kudos to you✌🏿
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Isagi:
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- lmao oh boy
- Brand new to this world
- Only has the blue flesh light you got him as a joke for Christmas
- He uses it more often than he’d like to admit…
- So when he comes to your place and he’s in the mood to get nasty
- You gotta hold his hand bc he’s gunna be a little nervous
- You ask him if he’s cool with toys and he’s like ofc
- Very excited to see what you use to make yourself feel good
- Then he is taken aback to see a box of sex toys ORGANIZED BY COLOR
- “We in for a more rough mood today or like a quick thing?”
- “YOU USE THEM FOR DIFFERENT SCENES??”
- Let him take a look through your treasure chest(pun intended)
- And he’s like 🙂 bc how does he use that
- “So whats this?? It’s like flat but it has silicone flowers on the top??”
- “Oh that’s a grinder you strap it to a pillow”
- “….and it’s supposed to be green and blue?”
- “The colors on this one were pretty 😤 aesthetic matters too!”
- Best way is to just dive in and let him test out each one
- His favorite so far is this pretty little one called CLAUDETTE and he likes grinding on it while he kisses you and fucking into it
- Likes how the colors look all funky and fun
- “Is that-“
- “A football colored one yes it is.”
- “…..you didn’t have this before you met me did you?”
- “Listen it’s not MY fault that you be away on games a lot and this just so happened to be in your girth!”
- He will indulge you and do those dick mold cast things and will demand to see videos of you fucking yourself with it when he’s away
- Nothing would make him rush home faster than seeing a video of you moaning all pretty in nothing but a spare jersey of his bounding up and down on an exact replica of his cock begging him to hurry home
- Fuck the game he’s on the first fight back to Japan IMMEDIATELY
- LOVES to use them in punishments!
- When you’re acting all bratty he’ll pretend he’s not on his very last nerve
- Not super good at controlling his true emotions but when he’s calling you pet names making you feel all flustered can you really tell he’s upset?
- So when he flips a switch and tells you to “hold fucking still or I’ll tie your hands to the headboard” and he’s in between your legs holding you down it’s definitely a surprise
- Has one of the vibes that are controlled by phone
- He’s not so cruel as take you for a stroll in public
- (Also he really doesn’t want to get slammed with a public indecency charge because you can’t keep quiet)
- He’ll make you wear it as he goes about his business in the house
- Ignoring you without a care in the world as he’s relaxing on the couch and you’re begging him to bend you over anything
- “Hm? I didn’t hear a ‘I’m sorry for being a brat Yoichi’ so all that crying ain’t doing nothing”
- He has really good control when he’s pissed
- Usually that glassy eyed look while begging him to ruin you would be enough to have him on you like a dog in heat
- Buuuuuy unfortunate for you upset yoichi is some cold
- He’s literally not even flinching as you grind in his thigh making a mess all over his pants
- Rolling his eyes before shooting you the most annoyed look
- “You gunna keep making a mess on my pants or you going to fucking apologize already?”
- “I-I’m sorry Yoichi… please I need you so bad.”
- “Fucking finally.”
- Throws your legs over his shoulders but he’s still mad so he’s gunna edge and then overstimulate you before he even pulls his cock out
Nagi:
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- oh he’s so silly
- Like he’s definitely like??
- Probably accidentally finds your stash before YOU show him
- “Oi, what’s this thing over here?”
- And you walk in and he’s messing w a silicone octopus cockring
- Boy if you don’t stay out my mf closet-
- Wants you to show him all the cool weird stuff you have
- “How do you even use this?”
- “Like any other toy???”
- “This tentacle is NOT like a regular sex toy.”
- Does it again by laying down on some of your stuffies and sees one w a obvious zipper
- Opens it to see a dildo inside
- “Why is this IN here?”
- “So nosey mfs like YOU don’t just come in my room and find my shit.”
- “…..that’s fair.”
- His fav for you to use on him is this gold and grey silicone stroker that has skin like texture
- When he’s too lazy to move he likes you being on top of him kissing and biting his neck while you slowly move the toy on his cock
- Will have him squirming and moaning loud as hell like you’ve never seen before
- Nagi isn’t the most vocal but he’s moaning like a pornstar
- “Ohhhh fuuuck pretty keep stroking me like that.”
- No better way to get him to fuck you like you want then to slow stroke him with a fleshlight or stroker
- Asks you to make a cast of your pussy
- When you actually make him one it’s like never brought up again until one night you get a text around 2am a few hours before nagi is set to touchdown back in Japan
- Of him fucking it like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do
- Not sure who the fuck recorded that for him🤨 bc it’s too good and so are the angles to be a shaky one handed quick video
- Moans about how he can’t wait to feel you cream on his cock
- As the most obscene noises play from your speakers with the image of seishiro fucking into a fleshlight of your likeness all messy with lube and cum
- From the way the video starts off he had to have been at it for a while already
- You catch a glimpse of his hazy eyes as he’s mercilessly pounding into the toy
- When the video ends you get another text from him
- ‘Just got out the airport be home in 25’
Hiori:
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- you’d think he’d be like weirded out
- Or confused
- Nah
- He’s seen all the gamer porn there is to see
- Monster and fantasy themed sex toys are a walk in the park
- “Woah, they like make dragon dicks that you can actually ride?”
- Favorites are Ophiuchus the Forgotten, Spyro Slim, and the twilight Moon
- He likes textures so anything with more ridges and bumps the better!
- Likes ones that seem normal. He’s a sneaky fucker so hidden in plain sight is great
- Like oh you thought this was a regular lipstick? Nope! A bullet vibe
- Has like 6 of these in your purse at all times
- Annoying as will pull a “hey can I talk to ya for a sec?”
- And then lead you into a secluded area and shove a toy in you while having his mouth do the heavy lifting
- “Mmm~ taste better when you’re this scared.”
- Someone get his ass 🙄😒
- Let’s you fuck him but like you’re a service top at most
- Not very try willing to give up power because that means he looses the game
- Will tie you up and ride you
- Puts on his most slutty performance and really lets himself get whiny
- As soon as he unties you it’s a chance to get him
- Like oh so anyway we’re not done🥰 now you can’t touch
- Will send you links to stores asking you what you think
- “Check out this dark souls one”
- “Yo, baby who the FUCK is that going to fit inside”
- “:((( but it glows in the dark”
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Text
Fettuccine’s Guide to Your Ghostly Gamer Boyfriend
BEN can be quite the catch with how sweet and cute he is, especially considering once he’s dating you he’d do anything he can to keep that pretty smile on your face and joy blooming inside of you. Of course, he’s not hard to date, but there are some tips that come with dating him, so here are some things to keep in mind. 
1. Always check your surroundings, especially if he calls out for you. When you’re a ghost, who needs stairs? Always remember to check both ceilings, walls, and floors when you’re walking about, because you never know just where you might see his head peeking out from. 
2. Remember to carry snacks on you. Even the dead like to snack around, so when you find yourself visiting BEN, make sure to have some candy or nice of his favorite snacks on you. Gifting him with snacks always means he’s going to return the favor and gift you snacks too, and it also means you’re gonna have him cuddling up to you, covering you in happy kisses to thank you for doing so. Recommended choices are Doritos (specifically Cool Ranch or Spicy Sweet Chili), Goldfish (he prefers the original Cheddar flavor), Cheez-Its (White Cheddar), Rice Krispies, Fruit Roll-Ups/By the Foot, or just about any candy you can get your hands on. Peanut butter candy scores you bonus points though. Obtaining any of these snacks for him makes him feel extra happy and loved and has him turning into a puddle in your arms.
3. This next one might seem obvious, but be interested in video games. You don’t have to be good at them or play a bunch of them yourself, but having an interest in them in general is essential. He loves playing with you, and he’s happy to teach you some tricks and play at your pace, but he also likes showing off for you. Watch him play a single player he’s really good at and cheer him on and you’ll have him feeling just about as happy as he gets. It makes him feel super loved and appreciated to have you so excited over his interests, and he always returns the favor for partaking in your interests as well. 
4. Send him silly photos of yourself. I’m sure we’ve all had a moment where someone takes a particularly bad photo of us and our knee-jerk reaction is to ask them to delete it, but you should do the opposite with BEN. He loves photography and he loves taking extremely flattering pictures of you and saving them to look at later, but he tries to avoid getting silly ones of you because he doesn’t know if it’ll upset you and quite frankly he’s too anxious to ask. Set him at ease by sending him an especially silly photo of yourself every now and then. It’ll really, really make him giddy and excited, and he’ll always send you an equally goofy photo of himself back so you’re even. Those photos you send him always end up becoming his favorite because you’re being unapologetically yourself in them. 
5. Let him ramble to you. BEN feels anxious with dominating conversations, but there are times when he really wants to rant and rave about things to you. Allowing him to do so and actually listening to him (even occasionally asking questions or making remarks in response) decreases his general anxiety about it and makes him feel much, much more comfortable with you. It allows him to get out his rambles, and it lets him share his interests with you, so it’s a winning situation.
6. Sacrifice your sleep or help reel him in. BEN, as a ghost, does not need to sleep. You, as a human, do need to. He gets so used to never sleeping that sometimes he forgets that you can’t stay up extremely late every single night and that you need to be in bed before the sun comes up. When it gets close to the time you’d actually like to go to bed, start settling down in bed and offering him some cuddles. Cuddles always relax him and put him at peace, so snuggling the fuck out of him is one way to prevent him from getting late-night zoomies and keeping you awake all night. He’ll adapt pretty easily if you keep at it. 
7. Speaking of cuddles, if you’re gonna date BEN you’ve gotta be okay with being super affectionate. This gamer is extremely touch-starved and at most points in the day wants nothing more than to be wrapped up in your arms receiving all your attention. Give him hugs and kisses whenever you see him, even if it’s in passing through the hallway, and make sure to cuddle up with him when you’re both alone. Sit in his lap or let him sit in yours, lay down together, sit side by side with an arm thrown over your shoulders. He’s basically just a needy puppy when it comes down to it and he thrives on your touch.
8. Have a sense of humor and appreciate his memes. BEN shows affection by sending you a bunch of funny memes, TikToks, and YouTube videos he thinks you’ll find really funny. You don’t have to like all of them, but take the time to look at them and send some back to him. He tries to curate it over time so he sends only stuff you’ll enjoy, so if you don’t like a particular variety be sure to tell him. He enjoys the back and forth of sharing things with you so much. 
9. Be prepared to accept the fact that you’ll probably be the chef in your relationship. BEN… Well, to say the least, is not allowed in the kitchen. There are very few things he can actually make, and although he tries his best, he really is not that great at cooking things and if it were up to him he could survive off of cereal. You don’t have to be a five star chef, but it would probably be good for both of you if you could make something other than hot pockets. 
10. The final, and one of the most important, of tips is to… Be yourself. BEN spends a lot of his time with a mask on presenting a facade because he’s too anxious to really open up to people and expose the inner, depressive, and traumatized sides of himself. Having a partner who can be 100% open and honest with him will go a long way in helping him do the same for you. After all, he loves you for who you are, and he doesn’t want you to feel the need to hide things about yourself. If you can be so open and honest with him, he can do the same for you. 
Disclaimer;
BEN would like it to be said that he had no part in making this guide and that the thoughts, opinions, and claims expressed are my own (even if they’re true). He would also like to express that you also have to be comfortable sleeping in his room with his mountains of blankets, so if you cannot handle that, he recommends investing in a high powered fan. He’ll help you purchase it. He’s now also demanding a minimum of thirty minutes of cuddling per day, non-negotiable. That is all.
(That last part is just me trying to be silly please remember that BEN does not exist, is not real, never has been, and never will be. He is a fictional entity.) 
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oatmilkriver · 2 months
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the chief's kid- eddie munson
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pairing: eddie munson x gn!hopper!reader
summary: eddie munson has never been the tyoe to meet the parents. so when you ask him to meet your dad, he's nervous... especially cause you're the chief of police's kid.
warnings: food mentioned, slight upside down mention, Y/N used, no physical descriptions
word count: 1,197
author's note: this is the first fic i've uploaded!! so notes are greatly appreciated, and if you have any advice please dm me!
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Eddie has never been this nervous in his entire life. And he’s fought off demobats. But here he is, still sitting in his van that’s parked in front of your house. He adjusts his hair through the rearview mirror in an attempt to tame his curls and takes a deep breath before getting out. He walks up to your front door, looking at the two flimsy bouquets in his hands. Just as he raises his fist to knock, the door swings open, revealing a very intimidating man. An intimidating man Eddie has met a couple of times: Chief Jim Hopper.
Eddie looks up at your dad, his face set in a scowl, looking Eddie up and down before he is pushed gently away. Now he is met with your smiling face and Eddie remembers to breathe again, a small smile showing on his face.
“Come in, I’m excited for you to meet my sister!”
You say, grabbing Eddie by the arm and pulling him in. You run off down the hall, leaving Eddie to look around your house. It’s cute... cozy. Eddie walks into the living room, staring at the family pictures on the wall, laughing softly to himself seeing a picture of a little you with ice cream all over your face, smiling brightly at the camera.
He then hears someone clear their throat behind him, reminding Eddie that he’s not alone.
“So,” your dad says from the kitchen. “You and my kid, huh?”
Eddie doesn’t have the courage to speak up, his throat suddenly very dry, so he just nods. Before anyone can say anything else, you walk into the living room, arm in arm with a younger girl.
“Eddie, this is my sister, El,” You smile at your sister briefly before looking back at him, “She’s the one with the superpowers everyone keeps talking about.”
Eddie walks up to the two of you, a smile on his face.
“Hi El, I’ve been wondering when I’ll meet this super cool sister Y/N keeps talking about” Eddie smiles and hands El one of the homemade bouquets in his hand. “I picked these for you.”
Eddie then turns to look at you, handing you the other bouquet, “And... these are for you.”
You smile at the bundle of flowers. A colorful bunch of wildflowers that you recognize grew on the side of the road next to the trailer park. You grab his hand and kiss his cheek, muttering a ‘thank you’ and leaving Eddie blushing.
Hop clears his throat, bringing everyone's attention back to him.
“Dinner’s ready” Hop huffs out, holding a tray of food and placing it on the dinner table. You quickly walk to help him out, after placing El’s and your flowers in watered vases. El walks to the table with Eddie, tapping his shoulder.
“Can I sit with you during dinner?” El asks, almost nervously. Eddie smiles and nods.
“Of course! It’ll be exciting to sit with a real-life superhero.”
El giggles and sits down as you and your dad bring out the last of the dinner. Once everyone is seated, plates start getting moved around and dinner officially starts. And it’s scarily quiet. Eddie keeps glancing at you from across the table, his nerves setting in whenever he feels your dad staring at hm from the head of the table.
The truth is, Hop doesn’t actually hate Eddie, despite his behavior. Sure, he’s arrested him a couple of times, but he still thought Eddie was a good kid. He knew that his childhood was rough, and he wasn’t the most popular in school, so yeah, Hop didn’t hate the kid. He remembers the first time he arrested Eddie. Little 13-year-old Eddie who got caught vandalizing the side of a building. Hop just wanted to scare him, so he drove him home after an hour of holding. Hopper wasn’t expecting Eddie to pipe up from the backseat, asking if he could keep the handcuffs. But he let him none-the-less.
But the idea of Eddie dating his kid, the idea of anyone dating his kid didn’t sit right with the old chief. He was scared that his eldest would want to spend less time with their old man, before slowly stop visiting altogether. Especially all that’s happened in the last couple of years, Hopper wanted to keep his family as close to him as possible. Even if that means scaring the poor metalhead away.
Eddie continues to eat in silence, looking at you, silently asking what to do. After a shrug in response from you, Eddie decides to try small talk, hoping to get your dad to approve of him.
“This is really good, Ho- sir, um, Mr.-” Eddie stumbles, suddenly not sure what’s appropriate to call your dad.
Hop takes a drink, raising his glass to his lips in an effort to hide his smile. He’s glad that he’s able to make the boy nervous.
“Hop is fine, kid.”
Eddie lets out a relieved sigh, seemingly not embarrassing himself completely.
From that point on dinner went by smoothly. Small conversations were made, laughs were shared, until all the food was gone, and everyone’s bellies were full. El was talking to Eddie about what he should do for his next DND campaign, telling him to mess with Mike more.
When it was time for Eddie to leave, you walked him to the door, kissing his cheek as he blushed like he always does. He says goodbye to everyone, El even giving him a hug, before he walks back to his van.
Halfway there, however, he hears the front door open again. He turns around, expecting you to be there but is surprised at the site of your dad walking towards him.
“Wait up kid, wanna talk to you real quick”
Eddie gulps, fidgeting with his rings as he anticipates what your dad will say. Eddie’s expecting ‘stay away from my kid’, ‘like I’ll ever let a freak date my child’, or anything else that’ll break Eddie’s heart.
“Are you serious about this? About dating Y/N?”
Eddie was not expecting that. Especially not expecting Hop to say it with so much care.
“Absolutely, I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.” Eddie responds, cheeks turning red at the truthful declaration.
Hop just nods, looking at Eddie for a moment before holding his hand out to shake. Eddie stares at it for a second before moving quickly to shake it.
Hop stares at Eddie before speaking again, “Take care of them. Because if you don’t, I’ll find you”
He says this seriously, but with the ghost of a smirk on his face.
Eddie nods quickly. But he’s not that scared of the threat, knowing he could never hurt you.
Hop gives Eddie a small smile, nodding his head before moving back to the house. Eddie smiles as he gets into the van. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he could win over the chief of police, much less get his approval to date his kid.
Eddie is still grinning the rest of his drive home, planning on keeping his promise to take care of you, hopefully for the rest of his life.
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thank you so much for reading!! notes are greatly appreciated, especially reblogs and comments! ♡
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