#apparently I just like talking about my fics who knew lol

[ellecdc]

Surprise! We're Making Love

6.8k words

this is my first real like... real smut fic? so do take that into consideration [and please be nice to me lol] but also feel free to send me a message if you have any feedback or pointers.

this is a fic based on this trope that was sent to me by @bobluvbot like a million weeks ago and became my hyper fixation for far too long. I finally decided to put it into words. thanks to @unstablereader for championing me as I wrote this and convincing me it was decent enough to post lol

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

CW: smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, coming inside of someone, AFAB reader, reader is a Pureblood Slytherin, has hair long enough for Rem to feel it on his shoulders when you're straddling him, reader has hair texture that sticks to you when wet, mentions of smoking weed and being high, mentions of drinking and alcohol, mentions of arranged marriages, use of mudblood and blood supremacy

Remus doesn’t know how exactly this thing started for him.

Perhaps it was the day after a full moon when he forgot to lock the door behind him to the Prefects Bathroom and you let yourself in, nearly fully stripped before you realised he was sitting in the steaming, bubbling pool-sized tub with a spliff hanging lazily from his mouth.

“Circe’s tits!” You screeched as you hastily pulled up your towel to keep your modesty. “You didn’t think to alert me to your presence, Lupin?” You sneered half-heartedly at him as you tried to regain your composure.

“Sorry.” Remus chuckled, voice gravelly from a mixture of last night’s howling and tonight’s smoking. “My brain is moving a little slowly right now.”

You looked between him and the spliff and sighed. “Think you’ll be much longer?” You asked him quietly, cautiously, reticently. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen you look so dejected.

Slytherin princess; though you never really let that dictate how you treated people, just that it levelled you with a certain notoriety within the school. You were the only one who could talk sense into Barty Crouch Junior; Pandora Rosier’s biggest defender and advocate; Snape, Mulciber, and Avery’s biggest adversary; the one who encouraged Regulus Black to reach out to his estranged older brother; and the least likely to enact revenge on the Marauder’s for their pranks.

Though Remus had never shared more than a few words with you in passing, he knew a lot about you. In addition to the aforementioned qualities, you were a Pureblood, the eldest daughter and heiress to your family’s name and fortune, Prefect, received top marks in Charms and Transfiguration, and hated the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

Knowing all of that made Remus rather rueful that he hadn’t spoken to you before now.

“Listen, this tub is nearly the size of an Olympic swimming pool.” Remus started, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion. “It’s big.” He clarified. “I don’t mind...sharing if you wouldn’t be too uncomfortable; otherwise, I’ll pack up and leave it to you.”

He didn’t really want to leave; not whilst he was still nursing his post-moon hangover and the warm water was finally starting to relieve some of the tension in his bones. But you looked forlorn, and damn Remus and his bleeding heart, he’d give it up if you needed it.

“I don’t want to kick you out... you were here first.” You murmured, apparently weighing your options in your head.

“I will leave if you want, L/N, but I’m more than willing to share.”

You searched his eyes for what, Remus wasn’t sure, but you seemed to come to some decision. You threw your head back and let out a strangled groan which Remus was certain was more for dramatic effect than it was indicative of any real ire.

“Fine, turn around.”

Remus smirked at you and tried to ignore the protesting of his joints as he stood in the pool and turned to face the opposite wall, allowing you to drop the rest of your clothes and your towel and sink into the water.

“Okay...” You whispered quietly. “You can sit back down now; thank you.”

Perhaps it had begun then; he’d offered you a puff from his joint, causing you to move closer to him. He was a gentleman and avoided noticing the way your breasts sat high on your chest, buoyant in the bubbly and fragrant waters.

He ignored the feeling of your elbow brushing against his. He ignored the way your hair, damp from the steam and humidity, stuck against your skin. And he definitely ignored the way that as the weed started to affect you, you leaned your head onto his shoulder.

What he couldn’t ignore? When you asked him what you could do to help him.

“Help?” Remus asked you bemusedly, jostling his shoulder and forcing you to sit up and return his gaze.

“Yeah; you seem tense, stressed.”

Remus let out a confused chuckle from his nose. “That’s really not anything you need to worry about.”

You laughed back at him, nudging him with your elbow. “Lupin.” You chided. “You were willing to give up your private pool time, you’ve shared your weed with me, and you’ve let me intrude on your bath; let me worry about it.”

And he doesn’t know how you did it, he’s not even sure he remembers how the rest of the conversation went – one moment the two of you were sitting an entire swimming pool apart and pretending the other wasn’t there, and the next moment he was sitting on the edge of the pool with his hands tangled in your hair as you took him in your mouth.

“Christ, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He tried warning you, tapping your shoulder to get your attention.

Like the watery siren that you were, all you did was moan and take him deeper, and in another moment, he was spilling down your throat.

Remus was sure he looked absolutely wrecked; naked, soaking, exhausted, a few fresh wounds from last night, and his permanent eye bags a more dramatic purple today on account of his lack of sleep last night.

Not you though; somehow even though you’d just done all the work, you looked ethereal. Wet hair pooling in the water around you as you sunk into the suds up to your collarbones, your lips swollen and glistening from your fantastic work if you asked Remus, and eyes a mischievous magnet nearly luring Remus back into the pool completely against his will.

“Godric, you’re good at that.” He breathed embarrassingly. Thankfully, you only laughed at with him.

“I’m sure you meant that as a compliment, Lupin; but it sort of sounds like you’re calling me a whore.”

Remus cackled at that, thankful that his time in the water eased the soreness in his ribs before doing so.

“If you give me a few moments, I’ll return the favour dove.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You offered, moving back to the other side of the pool to retrieve the book you’d deserted in favour of pot, and then in favour of cock. “I’ll just take an I.O.U.”

Or maybe it started at the Ravenclaw afterparty following their win against Hufflepuff. You showed up with your friends fashionably late and clearly having pre-gamed to some extent if Barty’s uncoordinated movements were anything to go by.

He noticed you every once in a while, flitting around the party with various friends, dancing to various tunes, participating in various games over conversations; but something was different about you. You weren’t as...glowy.

Your smile never met your eyes, and your laughs weren’t carefree – not like they were in the tub. Not like they ought to be.

But hey, you helped him when he needed it, and he did technically owe you.

He brushed past you and gently pulled on your elbow as he continued moving. When you turned back to see what had happened, he nodded toward the exit.

He didn’t bother turning around to see if you were following him, he just carried on down the stairs of Ravenclaw tower before turning the corner to an empty corridor.

“Oi, Lupin; your legs are longer than mine. Slow down!” You called. 

He didn’t realise at that time how much it meant to him that you had followed; hindsight being 20/20, and all.

“Where are we going?” You queried as you caught up and walked in step with him.

“You’ll see.” He said simply, cutting across the hall and opening the door to an empty classroom.

“Going to teach me how to translate Ancient Runes, Lupin?” You joked, though your affect was clearly lacking.

“I’m going to help.” He responded simply, leaning backwards against the professor’s desk.

“Help?”

“Right.”

You smirked and raised a singular perfectly manicured eyebrow at him, looking him up and down with a suggestive glance.

“What exactly are you to help me with?”

“You seem worried, tense.” He repeated your exact words from the tub a little over a week ago.

You offered him a half smile that, once again, never met your eyes. “That’s not something you need to worry about.”

He offered you a soft smile in return. “I do owe you, though.”

Remus doesn’t know what it was that convinced you to accept his offer. One moment he was leaning casually against the professor’s desk as you watched him warily from the door to the classroom, and the next moment he had you splayed out on the desk before him with the skirt of your dress bunched up around your waist and his head between your legs.

Now, it’s important to note that Remus is a humble and modest person. In fact, he’s really quite self-conscious. He didn’t come from a notable family and compared to his friends he was basically a pauper, he was scarred and tall and lanky, and due to his lycanthropy, he avoided meaningful relationships; meaning that whilst his friends all enjoyed relationships and situationships, he stayed religiously single.

All that being said, there was something Remus knew to be true that he felt worth bragging about.

He was fucking good in bed.

So his ego was properly stroked when you threw your head back so hard that it made a painful whacking sound against the wood of the desk with just the first stripe of his tongue through your folds.

Like a man starved, he buried his face between your legs and hardly ever came back up for air. He pulled your hips flush to his chest with your legs thrown over his shoulders and his arms hugging your thighs that he used as earmuffs.

Remus could easily call this one of his new favourite places to be, especially with the sinful sounds escaping your mouth.

He used his thumb to tease your clit, thrusting his tongue in your hole a few times before bringing it back out to run through your lips.

“Oh, Merlin!” You cried, causing him to chuckle, which caused you to flinch slightly at the feeling of his cold breath against your cunt.

“Come now, L/N; you know that’s not my name.”

You let out another cry as he wasted no time diving back in, his nose rubbing at your clit as his tongue continued its assault.

Remus’ efforts were rewarded in the form of you cumming on his face and your body falling limp below him.

He allowed you to catch your breath as he fought to catch his own, ignoring his knees crying in protest from having spent the last however long supporting his weight on the hard stone floor.

“Oh gods.” You breathed finally, opening your eyes and stealing a shy glance at Remus, still stationed near your core.

He smiled wolfishly at you. “Better?”

You laughed; a real, hard laugh that had been missing from you all night. “Much.” You agreed readily, accepting his outstretched hand and sitting up on the edge of the desk and pushing your skirt back down to cover yourself. “Thank you, Lupin.”

Remus shrugged nonchalantly as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it with a snap of his fingers, pushing open a window with a flick of his wand. “What are friends for?”

You snorted inelegantly; a far cry from the proper Pureblood heiress you’d been raised to be as you pulled your panties back on and took careful, albeit slightly wobbly, steps to join him at the window.

“Are we friends now?”

“Were we not friends before?” He countered, offering you a drag from his smoke that you easily accepted. He was sure his lips, tongue, and now the end of his cigarette still tasted like you.

“I didn’t think your kind was supposed to be friends with mine.” You offered, not looking at him as you passed the cigarette back.

“Blood status, really L/N?”

You scoffed derisively. “Please, Lupin. Give me some credit.”

It seemed to Remus that you looked almost hurt at his insinuation.

“I meant Gryffindor’s and Slytherin’s.”

“Perhaps we can be the first.”

“Do many of your friends see you naked, Lupin?”

Remus grimaced at that. “Honestly? More than I’d like, yes.”

And there it was again, that uninhibited laugh. Remus felt vindicated in his task for this evening.

“Alright, friends then.” You agreed, reaching out for his cigarette and taking a long drag before returning it to him. “Let me know when you might need my help again, Lupin.”

“Likewise.”

And maybe it was the day that he had Avery pinned against the wall by the collar of his shirt for calling a first year Hufflepuff a Mudblood.

There was blood dripping from Remus’ nose onto the collar of his uniform shirt from an elbow to the face as he spat various threats promises of pain and maiming, when he felt a gentle hand on the small of his back.

Due to the tension radiating through Remus’ body considering how close it was to the moon, his first reaction was to throw an elbow behind him. He thanked every deity possible that you were shorter than him when you ducked expertly to dodge his assault.

“Let him go.” You said simply.

Remus felt his brows furrow as he let out a protesting grumble.

“McGonagall is coming.” You continued.

Remus looked from you back to Avery who was now smirking at him. If Remus left now, Avery would tell McGonagall what Remus did; if Remus stayed, he could tell McGonagall what Avery had said.

“He won’t say anything.” You argued - as if you had heard Remus’ internal conundrum - causing Avery’s face to fall and both boys to whip their heads to you.

“And why the bloody hell won’t I, L/N?” Avery spat.

Your eyes moved from Remus’ to Avery’s where they took on a horrifyingly cold quality, no doubt the result of your cold and indifferent parents raising you like a proper Pureblood heir.

“Because I know where you sleep.” You spat lowly.

Remus watched as Avery fought to remain defiant, but as he heard the sound of McGonagall’s footsteps approaching, let out a frustrated groan.

“Fine. Sod off.” He barked, pushing Remus away from him roughly and stalking off towards the Slytherin dungeons.

Remus angrily picked up his book bag and began stalking down the corridor in the opposite way.

His blood was boiling, the tension in his shoulders and neck was starting to give him a headache and every step he took aggravated the matter.

He turned hastily around a corner when the strap of his book bag was pulled off his shoulder.

“What?” He hissed when he turned to see you with the other end of his strap in your hand.

“This way.”

“L/N.”

“Lupin.” You countered severely, voice intoning no nonsense.

Remus allowed you to drag him by his bookbag like a dog down a seemingly abandoned corridor and into an empty classroom before you locked the doors and threw up a silencing charm.

“What are you doing?” He muttered admittedly far more petulantly than you presently deserved from him.

“Helping.” You answered simply as you began undoing your school tie.

“I’m fine.” He spat, plopping himself down roughly into a chair. 

“Right.” You said sarcastically. “And you wouldn’t have continued to punch the first arse you saw on your way back to Gryffindor, huh?” You asked as you started pulling off your top and exposing your lacy black bra. “And I may not be an expert, but you’re a long way from Gryffindor tower which means your chances of running into an arse were really rather high.”

Remus held his hands up to his face and pinches at his temples, trying to stave off the incoming migraine and the overwhelming urge to tell you to fuck off, which he knew he really didn’t want to do. 

Suddenly you were in nothing but your bra and panties, kneeling before him and fussing with his belt.

“This really isn’t necessary, L/N.” He offered without much fervour. 

“What are friends for?” You asked quietly as you pulled his belt from the loops of his trouser.

“You don’t have to.”

“Do you want me to stop?” You asked pointedly, pausing your movements and looking up at him. You were giving him a choice; an out. Did he want to blow off some steam, or did he want to spend the rest of his day pissed off and tense?

Did he want you to stop?

“No.” He admitted.

Your eyes softened, though everything else about your face remained impassive as you undid the button and zip to his trousers and began encouraging them down his legs.

He decided to give up on his temper tantrum and assist you in the unenviable task of disrobing him and pulled you up into his lap.

“I don’t need anything.” You squeaked as he had you straddle his lap, your hair falling over your shoulders and tickling his own from your place above him.

“I’m not going to get in a fight and be a selfish lover all in the same day, L/N.” He said in faux admonishment. “Friends look after each other, yeah?”

And he’s not sure what swayed you. One moment he had you perched precariously above him as he gently nipped at your neck, and the next moment he was brutally thrusting up into you with no lack of desperation. 

“Fuckin’ hells you feel amazing.” He grunted as you mewled above him, eyebrows furrowed and eyes screwed shut causing Remus to worry momentarily.

“Are you okay?” He asked breathlessly. You moaned in response and dropped your chin onto his shoulder.

“Hey, dove, you okay?” He asked again, pulling you from him and slowing his movements.

“Don’t you dare fucking stop, Lupin.” You barked before you pulled his face to yours by the ends of his hair for a searing kiss. 

He grinned somewhat maniacally into the kiss and lifted you from his lap as he stood with his cock still lodged deep within you and perched you on the edge of the desk.

“You’re a bossy girl, aren’t you?” He taunted, pushing roughly into you from this new angle and causing you to cry out. “You like telling men what to do, dove?”

You gasped as Remus found the magic little spot he’d been searching for and he doubled down in his thrusts with renewed vigour. 

“That’s okay.” He continued, brushing a strand of hair away from your face that had gotten stuck in some of your lipgloss. “I like being told what to do.”

“Please! Please, please please.” You whined, a pretty sheen of sweat dusted your skin and began to pool on the divot of your collarbone. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck me.”

“Working on it.”

You were apparently coherent enough to laugh at that which was torture for Remus who was currently hanging on by a fucking thread as your giggles caused your cunt to clench torturously around his cock.

“Come on, pretty girl. Come on, cum for me, yeah? You’re close; I can tell. Cum for me.” He started chanting, moving his hand that was currently holding your knee up near his ribs to rub circles around your clit.

“Cum for me, L/N.”

“Oh fuck.” You shouted as your orgasm tore through you; Remus felt almost sick from the effort not to follow you over the edge immediately, wanting to help you ride out yours to fruition, but your walls pulsating around him left him very little control over the matter.

“Fuck.” Remus growled, and unfortunately that was the only warning you got before slammed into you once more, twice more, and was then spilling inside you causing your cunt to grow impossibly more wet and warm.

You let out a desperate breath and fell forward into Remus’ chest; he was ashamed to admit how much he relished in the intimacy - ignoring the very intimate act that had already taken place. 

“Fuck Lupin, you’re an animal.” You breathed out with a laugh.

Remus let out a surprised bark of laughter as he looked down at you.

“You have no idea.”

And if it wasn’t any of those, perhaps it was a few weeks later, when Remus saw a regal looking owl fly into the Great Hall over the Slytherin table, and with a grand war cry dropped an important looking letter in front of you, causing the rest of your table to fall silent. 

Remus watched as Regulus Black’s jaw tightened and Barty Crouch Junior’s spoon fell back into his porridge as they watched you open it.

Remus watched as all colour seemed to drain from your face and your jaw fell slack, though not open.

The rest of the Hall seemed completely unaware of the turmoil taking place over at the Slytherin table; everyone but Remus and, apparently, Sirius Black. 

“Shit.” Sirius whispered under his breath quietly, alerting neither Peter nor James who were currently in a heated debate about whether pumpkin pasties or sugar quills were the better treat from Honeydukes.

“What is it?” Remus asked him quietly. Sirius seemed nearly surprised that Remus had noticed, though schooled his expression quickly.

“Marriage announcement, she’s been betrothed.” He sneered the word, his nose actually wrinkling in disgust. “‘Sold off’ is a more appropriate term. It’s too bad, I quite liked her.”

Remus didn’t really like the feeling that settled in his stomach when he considered you being married off, but he didn’t have time to think on it too hard before he watched you storm over to Avery, Mulciber, and Snape before grabbing the former by the nape of his neck and slamming his head down into the table.

Remus was up and over to you in an instant with Sirius close behind, beaten only by Barty and Regulus who had the advantage of proximity.

“You miserable fucking wanker! You’ll fucking rot for this!” You screamed as Regulus fought and nearly lost in his battle of holding you back as Barty began sparring with your newfound enemy.

“I’ll fucking kill you for this Avery! You watch your fucking back!” You screeched. Regulus - for what reason, Remus couldn’t know - thought now a good moment to put you down, and as you launched yourself once again for what he was sure was Avery’s jugular, Remus threw you over his shoulder and took off out of the Great Hall.

“Put me down!” You shouted.

“No.” 

“Fuck off, Lupin.” You cried, grabbing at his jumper and slamming your fists into his lower back as he took the stairs two at a time. 

“You’re fine, L/N.”

You squealed and began kicking your legs out, causing him to use both arms to pin them to his torso.

“Stop it.”

“Put me down!”

“Stop it. Stop fighting me.”

“I hate you.”

“That’s fine.” He said, though it felt anything but. But he knew, you weren’t really mad at him, you perhaps weren’t even really mad at Avery.

“I hate you.” You said quietly this time.

“That’s alright.”

You had given up on your fight by the time Remus got to his destination. He was sure his shoulder in your stomach was causing you issues and the blood had to have been rushing to your head, but you remained placid as he hoisted you back up right and set you down on the floor of the Astronomy tower. 

Your face was wet and your hair was a mess as you took gasping breaths. 

This was beyond Remus’ wheelhouse when it came to you; he was good for eating you out, blowing off some steam, quickies, and the odd toke or two, but this? This was beyond his area of expertise. 

He decided to sit down beside you - both your backs pressed against the cold stone of the castle in a way he was sure felt good against your skin that was sizzling and crackling with fury. He didn’t say anything; there was nothing to say, nothing that he could say, and nothing he’d really know to say at a moment like this. Perhaps he should have left you to your friends; to the Purebloods who got it. Though, Regulus seemed willing to let you help Barty kill Avery, so perhaps it was better that you were up here with him instead. 

That's what he’d tell himself for now.

It could have been minutes or even an hour before you finally took a deep, shuddering breath.

“Why’d you do that?”

“Do what?” Remus asked quietly.

“Stop me.”

“You stopped me first.”

You let that sit in the air as you looked out into the horizon. 

“What do you need, L/N? What… what can I do?” He begged desperately.

Remus was certain the entire school could hear the sound of his heart breaking at the devastated expression that graced your face when you turned to make eye contact with him; your eyes seemed to beg Remus for something but he couldn’t decipher what it was that you were asking of him.

“I want to…to forget.” You sobbed. “I want to not think, I want to turn it all off for a fucking, god’s damned minute. I want it all to stop.”

“Okay.” He offered readily.

“I want it to stop.”

“Okay.” He repeated, taking your hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I’m right here.” He encouraged you. “Tell me what you need.”

“I need to forget.”

“Okay.” Remus said again, pulling at your hand and encouraging you into his lap. “I’m right here; take what you need.”

And Remus wasn’t sure what went through your mind as you searched between his hazel eyes. One moment you were carefully perched above him in his lap; tear tracks staining your cheeks and eyes full of sorrow. And in the next moment, your uniform skirt was hiked up and panties pulled to the side, and Remus’ belt was undone and his trousers were pulled low around his thighs as you bounced up and down on his cock like it was the solution to all of life's problems.

Remus wished it were true, he really did. But if all he could do at this moment was help you turn your brain off and forget the unpleasantness waiting for you back in the castle for just a little bit, then that’s what he would do. 

You had your face shoved into his neck and he was quite sure you were biting down on the junction between his shoulder and his neck - in an attempt to quell your moans, your crying, or just out of frustration, Remus didn’t know, and quite frankly he didn’t care either way. You grinded down onto him and he felt you applying pressure to your clit against his pelvic bone, prompting him to start rubbing it with his thumb. 

“You can let go, gorgeous. No one’s here.” He whispered.

You bit down harder in response and began riding him with an air of desperation. 

“I’m right here.”

And then he felt it. First, he felt your tears fall onto his shoulder, then he felt your teeth break his skin, and finally he felt your walls clench around him.

You stayed latched onto him; your arms around his waist, your hands clenched into the fabric of his jumper, your teeth on his skin and your cunt on his cock as he thrusted up into you and found his own release with very little effort on account of the aftershocks still shuddering through you. 

You sat like that for some time afterwards; the gentle breeze causing goosebumps to cover each of you as the sweat began to cool on your skin, and Remus rubbed circles into your bare thighs with his thumbs.

Unfortunately - for reasons Remus wasn’t willing to ponder on at present - you pulled away, a string of spit connecting your lips to the place on Remus’ neck he was sure now adorned the shape of your teeth.

“Sorry.” You rasped, running a hand over the newest of many wounds now decorating his skin. He didn’t want you to be sorry, though, he thought perhaps this might be his favourite one; it wasn’t the result of some hideous monster who took out its rage on him, but instead marked a tender moment between him and his…friend. 

You pulled your wand to cast a healing charm over it when Remus grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t.”

Your reddened and swollen eyes looked at him inquisitively, causing Remus to flush in embarrassment.

“Leave it, I’ve already got so many; what’s one more?” He tried to joke, though he could tell as you looked back down at the bite mark, it fell flat. 

“I’m sorry.” You said again, and Remus shook his head.

“Don’t be.”

“Thank you.” You said quietly, looking into Remus’ eyes imploringly, as if trying to convey your gratitude through your very soul. “For stopping me.”

This moment suddenly felt too charged for Remus; it was different somehow, something had happened, though he wasn’t sure what.

Not then, at least.

“That’s what friends do.” He said noncommittally. “It was an I.O.U.”

He managed to force a small smile out of you for that, and he was grateful. 

So perhaps it was all of those together, in addition to the many blowjobs, many quickies, many quiet, loud, rough, or awkward fucks the two of you had in between.

But maybe…

Maybe it was the way your smile lit up the room when Barty or Pandora said something particularly outlandish or funny; your laughter echoing through the halls like an invitation to experience a secret joy that only you and your friends knew about.

Or maybe it was the way you seemed to be the only one who could weasel a smile, a laugh, or a fond eye roll out of the notoriously cold and apathetic Regulus.

Or maybe it was how a dimple in your left cheek only appeared when you were particularly proud of an achievement you made or a grade you received. 

Or maybe it was the kind way you sheltered the younger Slytherin’s from the brunt of the Marauder’s pranks without impeding their more good natured ones.

Or maybe it was the way you hexed McLaggen for hitting on Lily Evans, and then again for calling her a filthy Mudblood when she refused his advancements.

Or maybe it was the way that you could always tell when Remus was feeling sad or low and needed help, needed something, needed you.

And fuck.

He needed you.

Remus wasn’t exactly sure how this thing started for him.

One moment you were on your hands and knees in his bed and he was fucking into you from behind; his body curled around yours as he rubbed at your clit expertly to push you over that edge for the third time tonight. And the next moment you were spread out and pliant beneath him, head thrown back in ecstasy as he lazily pushed into you.

He didn’t often get moments like this; moments to just sit and admire you. 

This thing he had with you, it was delicate, precarious. It was precious. And he wasn’t going to go fucking it up by forcing it to be something it wasn’t.

You were friends.

You were friends who helped each other.

You were friends who have seen each other naked; who have tasted each other’s sweat, skin, flesh, blood, and cum. 

You were friends who have spent time with each other, on each other, and in each other.

You were friends.

That’s what you had agreed to, that was the arrangement, that was all this was supposed to be.

And then Remus’ stupid sodding heart had to go and fucking yearn for you.

It ached to sit beside you in the library without it being a precursor for one of you to be on your knees in the stacks moments later. 

It ached to ask you about your day for the sole purpose of getting to hear about it and not just as a means to help you take your mind off it by bending you over in an empty classroom. 

It ached to watch you, uninhibited throughout the day, without it causing grief, or angst, or hungry looks being exchanged. 

It ached to taste your lips without tasting the leftover sex from previous actions. 

It ached for you to climb into the shower with him after this, to throw on one of his ratty old band tees, and to stay.

It ached for you to stay.

He wanted you to stay.

But you guys were friends.

And that was enough, it had to be enough. He would make it be enough. 

So sue him; sue him for taking this extra moment to admire your form below him, when you were only his in this moment. Sue him for memorising the way your hair pooled around your head like a halo even after all the tugging and ruffling that it has been subjected to. Sue him for watching the way your breasts bounced with each gentle thrust of his hips, the way your ribs expanded and contracted with each breath, the way the two of you fit so perfectly together; your body accepting him with grace and ease as he slotted the two of you together over and over and over again.

He ached for you.

And damn him - damn him and his bleeding heart and this beautiful girl beneath him - he reached out to pull a strand of hair that laid plastered to the side of your sweaty face.

He didn’t just ache for you.

He yearned for you.

He loved you.

He was in love with you.

And Godric only knows how far gone he was or for how long now. But it didn’t matter; none of it mattered. All that mattered was this ethereal being that, for just this moment, was all his. 

He doesn’t know how long your eyes had been returning his gaze. He supposed it didn’t matter, because he knew; he knew it was written all over his face. 

He may as well have been flashing a neon sign on his forehead: “My name is Remus, and I’m wildly in love with you”. And if the sign hadn’t been enough, he was sure his actions were.

There was no longer any desperation in his actions; no destination in mind as he slowly pulled out of you and pushed back in again. His hands weren’t placed in precise locations to elicit a specific reaction of any sort, but rather roved languidly over your body in meticulous worship. 

And if that hadn’t been enough, he was sure that the way you were staring deep into his eyes, into his soul; you saw. You knew.

The jig was up.

He had been outed. 

Your eyes widened minutely and began to flit around Remus’ face as your grip on his arms stationed on either side of your body loosened. 

You knew.

Though it was all for naught at this point, Remus scrunched his eyes closed as if he could save any of his remaining dignity; not that there was much left.

This was it, it was all going to be over.

He lowered himself over your body and pressed his face into your neck, hiding like the coward he was as he picked up the pace of his thrusts.

Gently, tentatively, he felt you press a cautious hand between his shoulder blades and another to the nape of his neck. 

Somehow, the tenderness in your touch hurt more. 

He came with a strangled cry, feeling humiliating tears fall from his eyes as he filled you up for what he was certain would be the last time.

He melted into your hold and cried silently into your shoulder, and you let him.

Your hand that was stationed between his shoulder blades never moved, but your hand in his hair kneaded gentle, soothing circles into his scalp.

He wanted you to stop; he wanted you to stop because this was all he really wanted... to be here, with you, like this.

He wanted the rough and the fun and the biting and the hair pulling, sure. But he wanted the gentle, the soft, the affection, and the innocent intimacy, too. 

That wasn’t fair though; it wasn’t fair to you. You never asked for it, and you never offered it.

You never asked for it.

You never offered it.

He decided that he’d been hiding in your neck for far longer than he had any right to, and slowly pulled his face away from its sanctuary. 

He looked up at you through his curls in shame to see you had tear tracks down your cheeks too.

What a fucking mess.

He was a fucking mess; and he’d dragged you down into it.

He slowly pulled out of you and summoned a tissue to clean up the cum leaking from your folds. You hissed at the sensation and he whispered an apology before pulling on a pair of pyjama pants and throwing you a t-shirt that he hoped to fucking God was clean, and sat on the edge of James’ bed; facing you, though his head was bowed in shame.

“I’m sorry.” He offered pathetically, knowing it was not even close to helpful in this situation.

“When…” You started, voice both gravely from the sex and tight with emotions as new tears fell. “When did this happen?”

He didn’t have an answer; he didn’t know. He couldn't say.

“When,” you tried again. “When did this change?”

Your face fell into your hands as you began to cry in earnest.

He wondered what part of this upset you the most; the loss of this friend that you had in him? The pressure to offer him more than you were willing to give? The feeling of guilt over not being able to return his feelings?

You didn’t seem to be waiting for an actual answer from him, but were rather voicing the thoughts running through your head as they came to you.

“I should go.” He whispered, even though this was his room, even though you were wearing his shirt.

“Don’t.” You demanded harshly, eyes blazing with a fire he never imagined ever being shot at him. “Don’t you dare leave me here like this; not after that.”

He nodded quickly, sitting back down on James’ bed as you wiped angrily at your face.

He wished you wouldn’t; he wished you’d be more gentle.

He didn’t get to wish things like that, though.

“When, when did this become love?” You asked in a mixture of shock and bemusement; the thought of an equation you couldn’t solve was clearly insulting to you. 

Remus shook his head in disgrace. “I’m sorry.” He offered weakly.

You scoffed out a sarcastic laugh. “Sorry for what, exactly? Making me fall in love with you? Making me fall in love with you and not telling me about it?”

“You... too?” He rasped, looking at you with a slack jaw.

“Fuck.” You seethed, standing up and beginning to pace the dorm room for a few moments as you seemed to think back on the entire duration of this situation.

“When!?” You demanded again after a few moments.

“I don’t know.” He admitted honestly, placatingly.

“Fuck.” You paused in place, bringing your hands to your mouth. Remus hated it, but you paused right in front of the hearth, causing your form to be illuminated by an ethereal glow. He thought you looked beautiful.

“I’m sorry.” He said, for daring to even think such a thing.

But, maybe…maybe if you loved him too, he could think such things?

“Fuck.” You said again, still staring unseeingly at the wall of his dorm as you stood in nothing but an oversized shirt in the middle of the room.

“What-” Remus started, taking a cautious step towards you as if you were a wild animal poised to run at any given moment. “What do you want, Y/N?”

Not one muscle in your body moved save for your eyes as they shot over to him.

“Anything.” He whispered.

I’ll give you anything you want; be anything you want. Say it and I’m yours. I’m yours.

I’m already all yours.

“I need to pee.” You said plainly.

Remus’ chest deflated in relief that you weren’t asking him to obliviate this memory from your mind.

“And then…” You took a shuddering breath that made Remus want to fold you up and keep you safe in his breast pocket for the rest of his life. “And then I want to talk. About this, okay? Please?”

Remus nodded quickly, readily, so unbelievably willingly.

“Don’t leave, please. Please be here when I get back.” You whispered; eyes, voice, and body language far more vulnerable than he ever remembered seeing from you (and ever cared to see from you again).

“Always.”

And he kept that promise.

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus x you #remus lupin fanfiction #remus x reader #the marauders #remus lupin smut #remus lupin fic #remus lupin imagine #elle does smut? #elle does smut #smut #mdni #18+ content #fem!reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #ellecdc fics

[kiwi-bitchez]

Double Down, Triple Threat 

Summary: insecure!Eddie x bartender!Reader

Eddie is constantly flirting with you after his Corroded Coffin sets at the Hideout, and you have the bad habit of flirting back. What happens when you overhear a conversation that wasn’t meant for you? Maybe you’ve had the wrong idea about the cocky metalhead who negs you for free drinks. Now you need to take it into your own hands to resolve some built up tension. 

Smut, as always, with a touch of angst but generally fluff/happy ending. 

Word count: 18k (eek! in retrospect I maybe should have split this into multiple parts but...fuck it, brevity has never been my strong suit LOL) Buckle up for a doozy.

Content warnings: smut, afab reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol consumption, smoking, the devil’s lettuce, mention of Eddie's scars and sustained injuries (slightly canon divergent obviously because our boy is ALIVE here, but the events of season 4 generally stand otherwise), also Eddie does some negative self talk where he refers to himself as mutilated but everything is happy in the end I promise, and scars are nothing to be insecure about he's just down in the dumps you feel me?, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), unprotected PIV sex (plz use protection irl), pet names, reader and Eddie shower together

A/N: I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted a fic on here, but I hope all y’all who are still riding the Eddie Munson thirst train enjoy this :) I’m trying to regain the motivation to write more, so hopefully more fics to come soon (no promises though lol) (maybe some Steve? Steddie x Reader? Let me know what y’all want to see.) I

"I'll have the usual," his hoarse voice and boisterous presence cut through what few other customers sat at your bar, forcing your attention his way.

"Yeah, and what would that be?" you try to give him your best deadpan voice, unsure yet if you were in the mood for his antics. 

"Come on, like I ever order anything other than a whiskey and coke," his curly dark hair stuck slightly to his damp forehead, not having bothered to wipe the sweat from his brow in between the stage and the bar. If you could even call it a stage. It was more of a sad corner with an extension cable and a few amps that his grunting bandmates were lugging back into their truck while he very helpfully came over and tried to flirt with the bartender. You were the only bartender. On Friday nights anyways. 

"That's because you're unoriginal," his drink was already half made as you flick your eyes up through your lashes at him, knowing he was watching you intently, not that he was particular about how his drink was made by any stretch. "You're actually going to pay for it this time," you slid the glass over to him, "I'm not joking."

"You wound me," he tries his best to give you puppy dog eyes, "but I'm pretty sure Randy mentioned something about drink tickets when we negotiated our new Friday slot."

"That's not a thing," you make up menial tasks behind the bar to keep your hands and eyes busy while he relentlessly chats with you, "never has been. Plus if I keep giving you free drinks you'll get the idea that I like you or something." 

Fuck, you told yourself you should stop flirting back with him. Your first excuse had been professionalism, which didn't make a lick of sense considering you were a bar back at this hole in the wall that paid local bands in drink tickets, apparently. Your second excuse had been that as fun as Eddie was to chat with, you hardly knew anything about him other than his loud band and his drink order. 

Unfortunately he liked to chat and sooner than later you knew more about him than you wanted to. Your newest excuse? If you kept flirting back with him he might get the idea that he could see you outside of this dingy bar, and you liked the comfort and safety of the three feet of wood separating you, it kept you from doing something you might regret. 

"Don't act like you didn't like our set," he threw the rest of his drink back, "I saw you watchin' from over here."

"Yeah, well you're kind of hard to ignore, you know, with the volume and all," your voice had a too-playful tone that you mentally noted to dial back on. 

If you were being honest, Corroded Coffin was one of the weekly acts that you didn't entirely mind. Most were groups of middle aged men trying to relive the glory days by booking a weeknight at the Hideout, instruments barely tuned and a setlist that was decades out of style. While Eddie's band certainly wasn't everyone's cup of tea, you found yourself tapping your foot along with their songs more often than not. At least they were original, you’d give them that. 

He held his glass up to signal a request for another. "Go help your friends carry all your shit," you swiped the cup from his hand, hating that you focused on how your fingers briefly touched his, "and then I'll make you another. And I'm charging you for both."

"Whatever you say, babe" he spun around three or four times on the bar stool before sauntering off and finally assisting with moving the amps and drum kit. You rolled your eyes, not that he was watching you anymore, but more to keep yourself from checking out how his shirt clung to his torso. His black t-shirt was always a size too small, revealing his tattoo covered arms that you never allowed yourself to stare long enough at to make out what any of them were. 

Eddie was nice. As much as you liked to push each other's buttons and joke around, he was a lot more respectful than most patrons that tried their hand at flirting with you. He never said anything gross or disrespectful, not something you could say about most men who've had more than a few beers. 

But you didn't want to risk pushing any boundaries with him, because you work here, and his band plays here weekly, religiously. You didn't want things to get weird, and as much as you learned how to avoid certain patrons, there was only so much space between the 'stage' and your station behind the bar. 

Despite this, you have his second drink made before he finishes putting his stuff away, and you haven't started a tab for either of them. A big smile stretches across his cheeks when he notices his already-made drink set by his stool as he walks over from the back door. You couldn't help but feel a tiny smile creep up on your face as well. 

"Really made me work for this one, huh?" he takes the first sip while still standing before setting back into his seat, "truly amazing service, best I've ever had, really." You glare at him while cleaning some cups absentmindedly with a rag. "Not sure if you can tip on a drink ticket though..."

"Fuck off," you giggle and throw the wet towel at him, "you can't charm your way into TWO free drinks you ass."

"Aww you think I'm charming?" the flirtations between you were always edged with sarcasm, which you both found a lot easier than admitting 'hey you need to stop looking at me like that or else I'm going to keep thinking about pinning you against this countertop.'

"No, I don't, which is why you're PAYING for both those drinks," a lie followed by another lie, and you both knew it. "Where'd your band go?"

"Why? 'm I boring you?" he didn't mind taking up all your attention when the other bar patrons were either too drunk to stand or too old to even notice that a metal band had performed for the past hour. "No one's ever accused Gareth of being more interesting than yours truly. Plus he doesn't drink anyways, so your venture capitalist instincts wont work on him." He raised his drink to punctuate his joke before taking another long swig. 

"Ha ha," you don't give him the satisfaction of a real laugh, "I just wanted to make sure you had a ride home in case you try and swindle me into making you a third drink."

"Oh no, I told them all to scram, that I had a hot date with you and my unsettled tab," he leaned over the bar, trying to eliminate as much space between himself and you, "plus I've got a friend coming by to pick me up in a bit. So if you wanted to make me that third drink in exchange for me keeping you company while you close up, I certainly don't have any reason to turn you down."

"Fine," you point at him with a stern finger, "but this one'll be more coke than whiskey."

"Deal," he pointed his finger back at you, moving carefully in so the tips of your pointers touched. This made you genuinely laugh, unable to keep up a wall for too long around him. 

He finished his second drink while you ordered last call, and settled up with crumpled cash and mumbled thank you’s from the few remaining drunks. After closing up the cash register you make him that more-coke-than-whiskey drink as promised, and get to wiping down every sticky surface. 

"What's your drink?" he asks.

"Hmm?" you glance over from your hunched over position, trying to get the wet rag across the underside of the bar where someone had clearly spilt what appeared to be an entire pint of light beer. 

"You know my drink order, I wanna know yours." you stand up straight and look at him. 

You consider pushing back and demanding why he wanted to know, but it was late and you only had so many quips left in you, "Gin and tonic with extra lime." You get back to soaking up the spilt mess.

"Woooooow," his drink was finished and he took it upon himself to grab the broom from behind the bar and start sweeping up the bottle caps and tracked in dirt, "and you had the nerve to call me unoriginal."

"I'm not some creative rock and roll guitar guy like you, I don't need to be original, I'm just a bartender," you let him keep sweeping and start checking off other tasks from your closing list.

"You aren't just a bartender, give yourself more credit than that babe," he held up the dustpan full of crap, silently asking where to put it and you hold open a mostly full garbage bag for him to dump it into before tying it off, "judging by your drink order I would also guess that you're, hmmmm, an 85 year old man."

"Oh my god," you slap him on the arm with another half dirty hand towel, "in that case, you're doing voluntary manual labor just to flirt with this 85 year old man, so maybe you need to reevaluate your priorities."

He takes a few steps forward, not quite caging you against the bar, but nearly there. "And how am I doing? Is it working?" He's the closest he's ever been to you, jokingly sliding the broom around your feet, pretending to sweep while maintaining searing eye contact.

As the which-one-of-us-is-going-to-learn-in-first question buzzes around you, an irritating light flickers through the big front window, indicating someone had pulled their car right up to the curb with their high beams on. Eddie scrunches his nose up, and your urge to kiss him somehow grows despite his annoyed expression. "That's my ride."

You give him a small nod, turning your head to try and squint to see who could possibly be picking him up at this hour, but not making out much through the foggy glass. "I suppose I can manage the rest without you," you grab the broom from him, fingers touching for the second time tonight, "see you next week, rockstar."

Eddie wants to do something smooth, a wink or a clever line, but instead nervously gives you a nod and is out the front door before he can give it a second thought. The minute the door closes behind him you let out all the air you had been holding in your chest, both frustrated and slightly relieved. Eddie on the other hand- was bursting with regret and frustration, immediately running his hands through his hair and pulling a cigarette out of his pocket. 

"Absolutely not," Steve craned his neck out of his car that always looked like it had just gotten a fresh wax and detail, "at least five feet away from the beemer if you're going to light that." 

Eddie rolled his eyes, considering putting the cigarette back into the carton and getting the fuck away from this bar, but ultimately gave in and pivoted on his heel storming back towards the brick exterior and slumping against it as he flicked his lighter and took an aggressively deep pull. 

"What's your damage?" Steve moved out of the expensive car, keeping a bit of distance from Eddie but close enough that the two could talk, "That bartender you like wasn't on or something?"

"She's inside closing up now, so keep your fuckin' voice down" he gave Steve a glare and then immediately an apologetic look for being so prickly, "I'm just bad at this shit, man."

"You can't be that bad at it, Gareth and Jeff said the two of you eye fuck across the room every Friday night," Steve shrugs, understanding Eddie's drawback but knowing his friend rarely gives himself the benefit of the doubt. 

"Yeah, well, that's not the hard part," Eddie rips his cigarette and presses his wild hair deeper into the brick behind him, exhaling upwards. 

You had taken note that Eddie's ride hadn't left yet, so you busied yourself for a minute before deciding who cares if you had to give him an awkward wave on your way across the parking lot, so you locked up and grabbed the trash to take to the dumpster out back before leaving for the night. 

You really didn't mean to eavesdrop, but as soon as the back door clicked you heard their muffled conversation from around the corner. Rather than give away your presence with the clanging of the trash you gently set it against the wall and moved forward silently, staying out of sight but well within earshot. 

"Flirting is the easy part, she's fuckin' easy to talk to, man" Eddie's voice carried, and you felt guilty but continued to listen, "I don't want to just fuck her though, I want to like, date...her."

"Oh," Steve's voice dropped knowingly, "well that's... good, I guess, that you like her like that."

"Well even if I didn't like her like that and was only looking to fuck her," he sighs out, and you carefully listen while furrowing your eyebrows, trying to make sense of their conversation, "she's gorgeous, and no girl that hot- scratch that no girl at all want's to fuck some mutilated freak."

"Don't call yourself a freak," Steve's voice seems apprehensive. 

"Yeah, sure, but you can't say I'm not mutilated." There was a beat of silence, and you didn't have time to think too much about his words before he went off again, voice laced with thick sarcasm, "Oh hey babe, so glad you were able to look past that I live in a trailer park and all my neighbors think I'm a satan worshiping murderer, but I hope you can be cool with my singular nipple and weird lumpy scar tissue, I know it's super hot, you're gonna have to get in line." His voice carried easily far past your hiding spot. 

"You're not giving her much credit dude," Steve was still apprehensive to respond, knowing how Eddie got when he started to spiral, "Maybe she's not that shallow."

"It's not that," Eddie's voice started to calm, "I'd just rather take my twenty minutes of flirting after our Friday gigs than risk it and have her look at me like she's sorry for me or something." 

With that he snubbed out his cigarette butt with the toe of his combat boots, let out a big sigh, and moved to get into the passenger side of Steve's car. You take a few slow, careful steps back towards the slumped garbage bag and wait until you hear the engine start and see the lights pull out onto the opposite side of the road. 

Fuck. Part of you felt incredibly guilty for listening to what was obviously meant to be a private conversation, especially a private conversation about you. But your gears were turning far too fast to get hung up on guilt. 

You always felt apprehensive about Eddie because you figured he was a flirt, a player, the kind of guy who talks to all bartenders like that, and you just happened to be the one he flirted with after his Corroded Coffin shows. You never wanted to get too invested in making him smile or waiting around for him to chat you up, because you know how most guys are, especially guys who carry themselves with that much confidence. And you were fucking wrong. 

Now fully realizing that the ball is in your court, you need to plan your first move. You decided, Eddie was worth taking the risk. 

It was truly a shot in the dark, but if your intuition ended up being a bust then no one would know about your wasted afternoon other than yourself. The following afternoon you drove aimlessly up and down the unpaved residential streets of the trailer park. There were two in town but you had a pretty good feeling that this was the one. 

You only started to feel stupid when you got some confused and slightly angry looks from people going about their business, hanging laundry or smoking on their porches, scrunching their noses and trying to make out the unfamiliar car driving in circles around their neighborhood. 

Aha! There it was. You knew that your gut could only fail you so many times when it came to Eddie. Exactly what you had been looking for, a big black and blue 1971 Chevrolet van strewn with dents, patches of rust, and, your telltale sign, a homemade Corroded Coffin sticker crookedly placed on the faded chrome of the bumper. 

Step one, complete. Step two was contingent on Eddie even being home. The presence of his van had you feeling hopeful. 

You attempt to rid yourself of lingering nerves with a deep breath and silent pep talk. You park adjacent to his van and hop out before your legs can convince you not to, and suddenly you've rung the doorbell and are standing with your hands clasped nervously in front of his door. 

"Just a minute," you hear him yell from inside, step two, complete, "What're you here for? Cuz I only got weed right now so if you're..." his hollering voice trails off from inside as he catches a glimpse of you through the screen. "Y/n? What the fuck are you doing here?" 

"Jeez, hello to you too," you try to lace your voice with the same flirty edge that you always took with Eddie, but you didn't have the comfortable barrier of the bar or the security of being the person serving him his drinks. 

"How the fuck do you know where I live?" His tone wasn't quite angry, but it was bordering on more pointed than just confused. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to drop by totally unexpected," you suddenly felt vulnerable, regretting this whole stupid plan, "I can go." 

You start to scurry back to your car and hide your face forever, but he cuts you off with, "No, no, just, why are you here?" He softened his voice, and came down the stoop to hover over you on the last step. 

"Well," here goes nothing, "last night I felt like we sort of got interrupted." You pause, trying to gauge his reaction, "And I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I didn’t want to wait a whole week to see you again."

"Oh," his face and reaction didn't give you much of a clue as to what he was thinking. 

"And," you started filling the empty air with words, as you often did out of anxiety, "I know where you live because I've heard you sing 'fuck everyone in the trailer park, I'll play my music and curse your existance' probably a thousand times, it really wasn’t that hard to figure out where you live." 

He let out a chuckle, despite being deep in the throws of processing your earlier statement of feeling cut off. Of course he wanted to see you outside the confines of the musty bar, he just hadn't expected it to be like this, so sudden. "Well that's fair. I’ll give you double points for perception."

"I didn't mean to interrupt your Saturday," you began to reel again, "just wanted to tell you I'd like to hang out with you sometime, preferably not at The Hideout."

"Can sometime be now?" he hopped down from the last step and gave you an inquisitive smile, nose slightly scrunched and giving you butterflies. 

"Yeah, sometime can be now. You promise I'm not interrupting anything?" you felt a wave of relief, his energy had fully shifted from confusion to your comfortable flirty banter.

"Just a packed bong and have some laundry I probably wasn't going to do anyways," he suddenly realized he either had to invite you inside, which would be slightly embarrassing given the current state of his trailer, or suggest a secondary location, "you hungry? We can grab lunch or something?" 

He offered to drive, and you suggested sandwiches and beer to go for a backseat van picnic. He was relieved that you were down with doing something so casual, no stuffy cafes or overpriced food. If you were more than happy to suggest eating deli counter sandwiches in the back of his clunky van then maybe he had less to worry about than he thought. 

The passing moments between you had him realizing he truly didn't know much about you. Your job, how you had no problem snapping back at rude customers, and most recently your favorite drink. He wanted to know more, and quickly did as you had a 'regular' sandwich order and gave him directions to a side street that looked out onto a small lake, explaining that you'd eat lunch out here sometimes when the weather was nice. He parked the van in reverse, letting the back doors swing open, giving you the perfect bench looking out to the scenery to sit back and eat. 

"All my years living 'round here, I've never been to this spot," he noted through bites of sandwich wrapped in white paper.

"Yeah, most people know the spot across the lake with the rope swing and all that," you gesture across to where there was a popular jumping rock littered with empty beer cans, "too crowded for me though, it's more peaceful over here." 

"Sorry if I was a bit rude earlier," he started, but you quickly cut him off before he could finish his apology.

"No, no," you move your hand over to gently grab his mid gesture, "don't apologize, your reaction was incredibly reasonable."

"I just-' he started but you gave his hand a squeeze, "I really am happy you decided to come by, I didn't want you to think otherwise."

"I'm happy you chose lunch with me over a bong and laundry, that was some tough competition I had," he rolled his eyes at you.

"Don't make fun of me," he nudged your side, "I'm usually pretty wiped from Friday's show and trying to think of clever things to keep up with you, so my Saturday's are usually pretty lazy," your shoulders rubbed against each other, "being a washed up wannabe rockstar and flirting with a girl way out of my league can really do a number on me."

You share a soft giggle but reassure him that playing live music, even if it is only for you and a crowd of five drunks is still pretty cool. "Plus I like that you dress like this all the time, it's not just an act, this is just how you are," you gesture to his ripped jeans and ring clad fingers.

"What did you expect, babe? Surprise me at my trailer to find me in a polo and khakis?" the suggestion alone had the two of you laughing, brainstorming an alternate universe where Eddie was an accountant by day and only let his rocker side loose on Friday nights. 

"If you aren't secretly an accountant, what do you do when you're not playing music, if I may ask," you realize this was really one of the first personal questions you'd exchanged, keeping things punchy and surface level until this point.

"Ah, well," he scratches the back of his head, "although I wish the drink tickets we make at The Hideout were enough to cover rent, I work down at the body shop, you know the one down the street from the grocery store? My uncle knew some guys there and hooked me up with a job fixing cars after high school, and it's not too bad, I'm not half bad at it either, so that's where I'm at."

"You just really keep getting better and better, huh?" at first he wonders if your comment is sarcastic, but you continue "So what I'm hearing is you'll look at my rattling engine for free? I know nothing about cars and am always worried the people at the body shop are going to overcharge me."

"I only charge in sandwich dates and drink tickets, so you're in luck," he responds quickly without giving it much of a thought. 

You take a second, "What about dinner dates? Maybe movie dates too? Are those acceptable payments for your mechanic expertise?" 

"Not usually, but I'll make an exception for you," he responds after a few beats, realizing you wanted to see him again, and not just at the bar. 

You both are looking out at the lake, the buzzing energy around you making you nervous to look at each other. So you just tilt your head sideways to rest on his shoulder, "Phew, that's a relief, because I have a lot more of these planned."

"Oh yeah?" he shifts his body towards you, lifting your head from his shoulder and finally meeting his gaze, a stupid grin plastered across his face, he couldn't help it. "Which one of these dates do I finally get to kiss you?" You let out a breathy laugh, half amused by his corny line and half surprised he was being so forward. 

"Hmmm, I'm not sure," you pretend to think it over, stringing this out was killing both of you, but you couldn't help but push his buttons a bit more, "I'd say I'm kind of a third date kind of gal."

"Three? As in three from now or three including this one?" He seemed genuinely concerned, causing a genuine laugh to slip through the act you were putting on. 

You move your hand to his chest, faces closer than they had ever been. You had always been sucked into his big brown eyes, but now you saw flecks of honey and deep browns that bordered on black in them, faded freckles dotted across his cheeks, a chapped patch on his lower lip that had clearly been the victim of some anxious chewing. "I'll make an exception this time, for you."

He let you make the first move, leaning in and gently pressing your lips to his, soft and slow. You could feel his breath catch in his throat, prompting you to pull back and look at him through fluttered lashes, as your mouth parted slightly to ask him if that was okay, his big ring clad hands cupped the sides of your cheeks and pulled you right back into him, kissing you like he was afraid you'd evaporate if he ever stopped. 

The wind was knocked out of you. You couldn't be bothered to breathe when your attention was solely focused on his lips, his tongue, the sharp intake air he sucked in between slotting your top lip down to your swollen bottom one, nipping with teeth and holding your face so close. 

After a minute of soft whimpers and exploring the new intimacy you pull back to finally catch your breath, fully ready to ignore the need for oxygen and lean back in when you see his face, rosy and buzzing with excited energy. 

"Sorry, if that was kind of a lot," he realized you had given the sweetest peck and he proceeded to practically shove his tongue down your throat. 

You however, were already brushing his apology off and leaning in for more, missing the feeling of his big hands cradling your face, sending tingling shockwaves down your body. Before you could lunge back at him and take more of what you wanted, he takes your chin in between his fingers and tilts your head up to his.

"I don't know if you can tell, but I'm sort of crazy about you. And I really don't want to fuck this up, but I've wanted to do that for a really long time.” 

He could tell by your pout that you were begging for another kiss, and he couldn't refuse you. You were completely lost in it. Learning that he let out a little gasp when you ran your fingers up into his hair, that he would catch your bottom lip in between his teeth when you started to pull away and he needed more, that you were already completely wrecked for him. You weren't even conscious of the fact that you were now fully seated in his lap, sandwich wrappers and empty cans long pushed aside. 

Part of you wanted to wait, to let things build up organically over time and get physically intimate when the moment felt right. But fuck it, the moment felt right now. 

Any apprehension or worry of scaring him off dissipated when his thumb ran across your cheekbone, his other strong arm holding you steadily against him, you don't think you could wiggle away if you tried. Swirling in your apprehension you also fought the urge to press your hips down into his and grind against him harder. You wanted to let him take things at his pace and not rush anything, but fuck you could feel his cock getting hard between your legs and it was driving you insane. 

He dragged the knuckle of his middle finger up your neck along the curve of your jaw, speaking softly into your kiss, "can I kiss you here?" pressing his touch into the side of your neck.

"You can do anything you want to me," you pant back, slightly embarrassed at how desperately horny that came out.

"Fuck," he groaned out, cock noticeably twitching against his black jeans and into your thigh, "you can't say shit like that to me."

"Sorry, sorry," you try to gain your composure and lift off him slightly, “I-"

He took a hold of your waist and pulled your back down into his lap, diving into the side of your neck and nipping and sucking until he found the spot that made you squeeze your thighs slightly around him. "Anything I want requires a lot more time and space than we have right now, pretty girl." He mumbled into your neck in between kisses, his words making your back arch slightly more into him. "Plus I need to be a gentleman," you rolled your eyes at this. 

"Since when have you ever worried about that," you tug his hair back to force him to look at you.

"You really want to know what I want, right now?" he quirked an eyebrow.

"Really, really," you let your weight sink down onto his lap a touch more, feeling the stiff length under his jeans slot between your thighs a bit deeper, making his breath hitch before he could respond. 

"I want you to lay back on those blankets up there," he nodded towards the few crumpled up blankets he had shoved behind the driver's seat, "and let me eat your pretty pussy until you're screaming loud enough for the people across the lake to hear."

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn't that. 

This unexpected burst of sexual confidence threw you for a loop, as you were fully prepared to be the one making all the big moves. Your mouth hung open slightly, struggling to form a response when all that was swarming through your mind was holy fuck, holy fuck, that was so hot, what the fuck do I say. 

Rather than respond with words you just roll off his lap and start moving deeper into the back of his van, propping your torso up on bent arms and sending him back a suggestively raised eyebrow. He swung his legs up over the ledge and took one of the doors with him, sliding into the van and quickly shutting the other as well. 

It took a second for your eyes to adjust, the previous sunlight coming in from across the lake was cut off, and the light source now was only coming from the front windows, making things darker but not invisible. You quickly had no trouble making out Eddie's slender form shuffling around and getting situated in between your bent knees, urging you to lay back a bit more and relax as much as your body would allow against the lumpy blanket pile. 

"This is okay?" he asks while leaning down to pick up where you had left off a moment ago. 

"Yes, fuck," you wiggle up into his form, wanting as much contact as he would allow, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down into your lips. 

It all had moved faster than you were used to but fuck if it didn't feel so right. Why did you feel more comfortable with this person you hardly knew than you had with your past few long term relationships? He just had this way of taking your nerves and throwing them out the nearest window. 

After sucking on your lower lip until it was puffy and slick he dips his chin into the crook of your neck, dragging his perfect nose up your jugular and nestling into the junction of your neck and ear, licking a stripe all the way. You wanted to desperately buck your hips up into his, but only allowed yourself half the satisfaction of lifting your thigh slightly to give him more space to sink deeper into your slumped form. 

When Eddie’s life flashed before his eyes, on more than one occasion- actually- he wasn’t particularly satisfied with what he saw. In the moments before what he assumed was death, his brain searched for the best moments to accumulate and reminisce on before his body succumbed to the untimely demise he was facing. It wasn’t much. 

He wished he had more than smiling moments with his D&D club, a few killer performances at the Hideout, no killer audiences, some nights of revelry with his friends, and a few forgettable hookups in dingy bar bathrooms. That couldn’t be it, right?

In the wake of his life flashing, fading, and flashing again, he made more space for good things. After his shows now he let himself think about you, and how much he liked you, let himself try his hand at flirting. Because if he was going to come anywhere that close to death again, he needed more to show for it than a few trysts with nameless girls and an unnerving amount of scar tissue. 

So he wasn’t about to fuck this up. If someone came at him with an axe tomorrow, at least he’d have the memory of you splayed out beneath him in the back of his van, lips shiny and cheeks rosy. If his life were to flash before his eyes again it wouldn’t be as bad.  

“Do you know how long I’ve thought about this?” he mumbled into your neck, his denim clad thigh pressing perfectly in between your legs. You could only hum back as if to say, “no, tell me.”

“I think you do know,” his teeth grazed upon your earlobe, sending a jolt through your hips and finding solace in the friction between your thighs with his.

“Yeah, I know,” you breathe out, arching your neck down to nudge the tip of his nose with yours, “do you?”

“I didn’t have a clue,” he mumbled into your lips before slipping his tongue against yours, sickly sweet and laced with all the regret of not asking you out sooner. 

You let your ankles hook around one another, locking your hips together and earning a deep rumble of a moan from the man trapped. “I recall you mentioning something about the people across the lake hearing me…” you playfully trail off, equal parts confidently flirty and deeply desperate for him to act on his earlier promise. 

He had nudged his way down into the neckline of your shirt, licking and nipping at as much of your breasts as he could find, fingertips grazing the waistline of your pants. Part of you wanted to just lay here and let him have his way with you, but the conscious part of your brain recognized the insecurities he expressed in that conversation you weren't supposed to hear, and signaled you to be as forward with him as you could be. 

“Fuck,” you struggled to pry your hands between your pressed bodies to reach your jeans button, “Eddie can I take these off, I want to feel you.” 

With your hands moved south, you managed to undo the clasps of your jeans while also running your hands upwards towards his shirt, wanting to feel the skin beneath. 

It was subtle, but impossible for you to miss, when your fingertips grazed his lower stomach and trailed up his t-shirt his body shifted into a tense state for just a moment. You could have easily missed it. It took all of a millisecond for him to subtly jerk away from you and redirect the attention to your now unbuttoned pants. His hands were dragging the material down your thighs before you had a moment to register the way he averted your touch. 

He playfully tossed your bunched up pants over his shoulder, as if they had anywhere else to go other than the three feet of van between him and the doors. After that flashed moment of shyness, you noticed nothing but a playful smirk on his face, smile crinkled at the corners of his cheeks and eyes full of wild mischief. 

His hands spread against your thighs, digging his fingertips into as much skin as the width of his palms would allow. 

“So fucking perfect,” he drank you in, hardly noticing the moment you pulled your shirt and bra over yourself, but dumbstruck as soon as his eyes caught sight of your reveal.

Knowing he had yet to put his money where his mouth was, he adjusted downwards and let his flushed cheek make contact with your thigh. In that moment he vowed to let the sight of the little damp patch in the center of your cotton panties stay forever in his mind. 

He didn’t let a single thought register in his brain before he leaned forward and let his tongue lick a fat strip up the middle of your clothed center, adding dampness to the apparent arousal already there. 

“Jesus,” you were slightly taken aback at his action, letting your head fall back, while still lowering your gaze down to where his hooded lids and pink tongue sat in between your thighs.

He reveled in the feeling of being between your thighs, letting his tongue play around the center of your panties for a few strokes before the twitching in your legs signaled that you had had enough of his teasing. 

Taking a blissful moment to hook his finger through the crotch piece of your underwear and pull it to the side to reveal your slick center, he simply couldn’t help himself. He pulled back and drank the sight of you in, panties wet with your arousal and his spit pulled to the side and your perfect cunt finally in his sights. 

The groan he let out only tripled your level of neediness for him. You let your chest puff up and hips gyrate forward at nothing to signal that you needed him, like, now.

Before you could even think of something snarky to say to get him to get on with it, his entire face was fully buried in you. An involuntary ahhh escaped you as he let his entire tongue press as far into you as space would allow. 

“Ohmygod,” all coming out in one breath, “fuckeddie.” 

He groaned deeply into you at the feeling of your pussy on his mouth, your taste, how your hips twitched slightly when his nose pressed against your clit. He didn’t even think about all those drunken chats with the boys or stupid cosmo articles he couldn't help but read, eating your pussy didn’t require any thought, he could only feel. 

Your sighs were like a song to him, every sharp inhale and subtle whimper, he caught it all and it was the most beautiful music. He let his tongue swirl faster when he heard your breath hitch, gripped your thigh tighter when you let out that beautiful exhale. 

“So fucking good for me,” he mumbled into your inner thigh in between licks, fully pussy drunk and ready to stay here forever, “fucking perfect.”

After some selfish exploration, he settled on a steady rhythm against your clit, making your back arch and whines jump an octave. 

“Eddie, Eddie,” you groaned, feeling embarrassed how needy your voice already sounded, “can you use your fingers too, please.” Desperate. That’s how you felt, and you couldn't help but be self conscious for any more than a moment, as he immediately headed your request. 

Guitar fingers. You fucking knew it. You always found him attractive and charming, but immediately scolded yourself the moment you started speculating about those damn fingers. If he could learn Metallica solos in private, what else could he do?

Curling upwards in that magically delicious motion that had you already seeing stars, he glanced up at you upon entering and was met with the glorious sight of your mouth hanging open and eyes fluttering shut. 

You simply couldn’t be bothered by the rickety van floor beneath you, the sad lumpy pillow propped under your head, or the stagnant, vaguely cigarette scented air around you. Nope. No thoughts other than the tightening knot in your stomach and how those pretty brown eyes peered up through too-perfect lashes at you in between sinful strokes. 

“Making me feel so fucking good,” you hardly recognized your voice as your own, “please don’t stop, Eddie, please…”

And there it was, euphoric bliss found in the back of a pot dealing metalhead’s van. Your thighs quivered and your brain lost all capacity for thought. All you could feel was the sudden wash of pleasure, the pulsing between your legs, and the tongue and fingers fucking into you as if it was the last thing he ever did. 

Writhing, trying to keep your moans down despite his verbalized promise for them to be heard far and wide, you try to control the jerk of your hips and grip on his hair. You rode out your orgasm, far sooner than you would have liked. You wanted to revel in it. 

After months of relentless flirting and suppressing your attraction to him, you wish you could have held your orgasm off a while longer. You simply couldn't allow yourself to bask in the velvet of his tongue or the tickle of his bangs on your thighs. You needed it too badly to hold off. 

Coming down from your orgasm, a broken moan cracked from you and let him know to slow his roll. In between catching your breath you catch a view of him sucking your release off of his slick fingers, and almost throw yourself at him, beg him to jump your bones. But all you can do is let out a breathy laugh and find the strength to prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him. 

“You come?” he asks, slight snark to his voice.

You muster up the energy to bop him upside the head and ruffle his hair along the way. “Fuck off,” you respond, still breathless, “you know I did.”

“I know,” he cocks his head, still admiring your form, your flushed face and rise and fall of every breath, “It’s polite to ask, though.”

“Ah yes, Eddie Munson, most polite man I know,” you flop back onto the mismatched pillows.

“Hey!” he pretends to sound offended but only manages to tug at your heartstrings, “I’ll have you know, that I am a delight.” 

“Can’t argue with that,” you reach down to feel your dripping folds before hunching forward to search for your underwear, which haven't traveled too far from his knees on the van floor.  

You wanted to return the favor, do more than return the favor, but something about his shift in demeanor and the way he angled his body away from yours slightly to adjust his hard cock in his pants and keep up the too-casual post-orgasm conversation had you thinking it was more than him being too polite to accept your advances. 

“Shit, what time is it,” he begins to shuffle towards the front of the van to check the time while you awkwardly gathered your clothes and redressed, fully assessing that whatever fooling around in the back of this van you were doing was officially over. 

“I, uh, have a few errands to run,” he sounded apologetic, not like he was making some excuse to get you out of his hair, “I can drop you off, or you can come along for the ride…”

There is was, your affirmation that he was just as desperate to hang onto this moment together as you were. 

“I actually have a shift starting pretty soon,” you regrettably admit, “and as much as I’d love to ditch it and be your passenger princess, the Saturday tips are usually the bulk of my rent money so…” 

He understood, he hated how much he understood. 

“What time do you get off?” He didn’t even try to hide how eager he was to see you again, again in ten minutes, again later tonight, again tomorrow, again as many times as you’d let him. 

“Get off? Pretty sure I did that like three minutes ago…” you joke and appreciate his huff of a laugh, “Um, I’m closing, so probably not until like two or three. Don’t worry though, I can give you my number and we can do this again when we’re both free.”

“I’m free later… at two,” his expression was dead serious, “or three, or four, or whenever.” He noticed your brows shoot up and words start to form in your mouth, before you could speak he cuts in, “If you won’t be too tired or anything. I can pick you up?”

“It’ll be pretty late Eds,” you were falling into the trap of his puppy dog eyes, “you don’t need to wait up for me like that, I promise we can see each other again, tomorrow even…”

“Tell me to fuck off if I’m being pushy,” he took your hand in his and mindlessly stroked circles into it with his thumb, “but I’m sort of a night owl, not big on the whole sleeping thing anyways, and I’d love to pick you up from work later.”

“Okay,” you agree, the soft earnestness of his voice snared you, and considered the magic he had just worked between your legs, who were you to say no. The glimmer in his eye and quirked smile at your response had you wishing you had said more than ‘okay,’ wondering what kind of look you would have gotten from a ‘yes, please,’ or ‘I’d love that.’

He drove you back to his trailer, not letting go of your hand during the ride, not even to turn up the music at his favorite parts. He offers to follow you back to your place, insisting that waiting for you to shower and change into work clothes and then drop you off at the Hideout was “on the way” to these supposed errands he had to run. 

You roll your eyes but start to accept that this is the kind of guy Eddie is, insincerity undetectable when he makes these offers. You invite him in, but he opts to wait outside with a cigarette, pacing a bit and then forcing his legs and mind to still by waiting in the drivers seat. 

“Hey hot stuff,” he wolf whistles as you exit your apartment, dressed in your usual black shirt and jeans for work, apron balled up in your bag to put on once you arrive. 

He’s sweet, and sincere. As much as you liked the jab banter between the two of you at the bar, you think you might prefer his sarcastic jokes mixed with sweet compliments and longing gazes more. Not that you weren’t getting that from him at the bar before, there were plenty of longing gazes there too, but now the shared glances are heavy with the knowledge of what his tongue feels like on your cunt. 

A sloppy, exaggerated kiss on the cheek and a ‘go get ‘em tiger’ sends you off into the bar, where your hands will be pouring cheap liquor for the next several hours but your mind will be solely occupied with what your post-work date with Eddie entails. 

The drink special of the night was a mix of anxious anticipation and lustful yearning, shaken too aggressively and served with sunsteady hands. Luckily the Saturday rush kept you mostly focused on vodka sodas and Guinness pours, wiping down sticky surfaces and making change for impatient customers. 

You had assistance behind the bar, and that also meant assistance closing up, finally allowing yourself to start peeking through the window to see if Eddie held up on his promise. Of course he had. He’d been waiting in the lot, scoring a few sales from exiting patrons who knew him previous deals, since long before the bar closed. 

You wipe your sweaty palms onto your apron and ball it up into your bag before bounding across the parking lot towards Eddie, who always seems to have this effortless charisma buzzing around him, a cigarette dangled from his pretty lower lip and posture just slouched enough to still be sexy. Maybe you were biased at this point. 

He pulls you in by your waist, angling his chin up to blow the smoke up into the sky rather in your direction. 

“How was work?” Your cheeks were already starting to grow hot at the feeling of his pinky finger landing on the strip of skin between your shirt and jeans, “Miss me?”

“Bartending’s a lot easier when I don’t have your nosy ass pestering me for free drinks,” you cock your head at him, silently asking for a drag of his cigarette, which he immediately understands and complies, “wasn’t too bad though, happy it’s over,” you exhale. 

“If you’e hungry there’s some fries and a milkshake by the passenger’s seat,” he let you slip from his grasp to spin around towards the van door.

“For me?” you peek through the window, realizing he didn’t just mean extras from his dinner earlier, he had gone out of his way to pick you up a post-work snack.

“Unless you aren’t hungry,” he moves to hop in the drivers side, “In which case you can practice tossing fries into my open mouth while I drive.”

You let a few fries fly across the car seat in his general direction, feeding him the occasional one directly, but inhaling most of them shortly after you peeled out of the parking lot. 

“D’you want me to bring you home, or…” you knew where he was headed with this, a nervous edge to his voice. 

“We can hang out back at your trailer if that’s okay,” you say mid-fry, “as long as I can take a quick shower I don’t mind chilling there.”

He grins like a giddy schoolgirl and grips the steering wheel just a touch tighter, and drives just a bit faster back to the trailer park. As anxious as you felt during your shift, you can’t be bothered to overthink with Eddie leaning towards you with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, making googly eyes at the shake you were downing as his way of asking you for a sip. 

He put the van into park before the wheels had even come to a complete stop, hustling around the front to make sure he was the one to open your door. He had spent some of the time you were away straightening up his trailer for the first time in a good long while. Empty beer cans were cleared and he even changed the bed sheets. It still wasn’t the Ritz or anything, but at least he can say he tried.

He tried to busy himself with locking the door behind you after entering, not wanting to see if your eyes drifted over to the mess of records and smoking pariphenelia that cluttered the coffee table, or the chance that the mixture of heavy metal and nerdy posters strewn about would draw a judgmental reaction. 

When he let his gaze drift back to you, you weren’t looking at any of that. You were looking right back at him, already leaning up on your toes and asking, “Can I kiss you again?” 

A mumbled “of course” had you wrapping your arms around his neck and melting into his touch, finding his lips already on yours before you could go in for the kill. 

The kiss started off French-fry-and-strawberry-shake flavored, smiling into his lips as the anticipation of seeing him again after only a few short hours slips away. 

“Thank’s for spending so much time with me today,” you whisper in between sticky sweet kisses, “and for the fries and-“

He took your cheeks in his hands and smushed your lips into his mid-sentence, pulling back to see the puckered fish face he held between his hands. 

“You’re welcome,” his big button eyes bore straight through you, as if he saw all of you and more, “but you don’t have to thank me, I like being with you, and I ended up eating most of the fries anyways,” he trails off, cheeks rosy and lips slick from your claim on them.

“You wanted to shower?” He cuts himself off, and feels stupid for it. He knew he could keep kissing you and kissing you and kissing you, and the only thing holding him back was his anxious brain and big mouth. 

“Oh, yeah,” you were a little surprised that he remembered, and chose to bring it up now, “if you don’t mind. I always feel a little sticky after work, you know, with the Hideout’s C health rating and all.”

With a smile that nearly knocked the air out of you, he took a deep bow like some silly court jester and motioned down the trailer’s only hallway. You took your lead and followed his outstretched arm, figuring there were only so may doors that could possibly lead to a bathroom. 

“Oh, shit, wait,” you hear him scramble behind you, shuffling past into the door you assume to he his bedroom, emerging milliseconds later with a crumpled towel in his balled up hand, “you’re gonna want this.”

“Thank you,” you’re slow with your movements, wondering how he was acting so squirrelly, like a middle school boy around the girl he wanted to take to the dance, even though he had you fully spread out begging for him in the back of his van only hours earlier, “is the shower big enough for two?”

You meant it equally suggestive and genuine, knowing full well that not all showers are built for partner bathing. However, the fear stricken look that washed across his face for a millisecond before scrunching up and setting to neutral had you thinking you had just asked if there was a built in hot tub or something like that. His mouth hung open and for a moment that conversation you weren’t supposed to hear replayed in your mind, maybe you had to take this slower than he was willing to let on. 

“Just looking for someone to massage my scalp, that’s all,” you try to jokingly play it off, keeping your invitation open but concealing it with a joke to double back on just in case.

“Yeah, it’s- uhhh,” Eddie, who was always quick with a comeback was suddenly lost for words, “It’s the size of a normal shower, yeah.” It’s not like he could lie, all you had to do was turn around and size it up for yourself. 

You take the towel from his white knuckled grip and pivoted towards the door that was close to having burn holes from where his laser focused eyes were shot. You give him a wink over your shoulder, figuring that was enough of an invitation and vague enough of an excuse for him to leave depending on what he wanted. You hated this line you were towing, knowing more than you should- yet still feeling so in the dark. 

He was right, it was a normal sized shower. A bathtub with a sliding door and a detachable shower head with only one working setting. There was a rack with three-in-one and a bar of dove soap, which should have annoyed you but made you giggle instead. You let a quarter sized drop of the generic body wash slash shampoo slash conditioner lather into your hands when you heard the bathroom door creek open, purposefully left unlocked. 

“Hey, is it okay I’m in here?” He sounded so genuine in his concern, unknowing you were on the verge of begging him to get in the shower with you. 

“Yeah,” you borderline shout over the running water, “here to help massage my scalp?” You let your tone stay light and joking despite being deadly serious. 

“Wow I didn’t realize your hands were really that delicate and incapable,” he tried to match your energy, but an anxious edge remained present. 

“I mean,” you searched for your words, “I’ve seen you play Metallica, I know those fingers could surely get this pine scented crap deep into my roots.” You let the suggestive comment linger, nervous after a beat of silence passed. 

“If you really need my help,” you heard him shuffling around , “who am I to turn a damsel in distress away?”

You felt your cheeks get rosy and shoulders wiggle with excitement as you caught the shower door jerk open. Your face was towards the shower head, and you only turned a quarter of the way around before Eddie stepped in behind you and those guitar-string-calloused-hands gripped your shoulders and twisted you back towards your view of the water stream. 

“I’m gonna make you a deal,” his voice was coated with as much charisma as he could muster, his worries only poking through enough for you to notice, “I’ll give you the full treatment, but you can’t turn around.”

You were willing to play along with about any game he suggested. If he asked you to bend over backwards you’d extend your spine as far as it could go. 

You stood with your front as straight towards the shower head as you could, only feeling his presence behind you and his gentle hands lay on your shoulders to assure you wouldn’t turn around. 

“Just let me take care of you,” he edged closer, letting you feel his naked body enter your space, his face craning over your shoulder to gauge your reaction, “Just stay like this and let me feel you.”

It was less of a question and more of a plea, the only thing more pathetic sounding was the whimper that slipped out of you when you felt his body press against your back, warm and hesitant to press all the way into you, but close enough for you to feel his skin. 

“Okay,” you let your head lull back onto the space between his collar bone and shoulder, keeping your eyes closed, not that you could see anything from this angle anyways, “I’ll stay just like this, promise.”

“I just-“ you could hear his walls come up, suddenly trying to find the words to explain himself to you, “I’m not-“

“Eddie,” you whisper, eyes fluttering open to glance up at him as much as you could, “it’s okay. I’ll stay just like this, I’m just happy to be here with you.”

You gently found his hands resting at your hips and guided them up to your soapy scalp, “We both know the real reason I called you in here anyways,” you joked, and angled your head straight forward so he could run the pads of his fingers all through your 3-in-1 coated hair.

He let out a light chuckle at your joke, nearly feeling it catch in his throat as all the passed time of insecurity and locking his feelings away welled up and shattered with the intimacy of washing your hair. What did he do to deserve having you like this? For you to understand and want him to stay anyways? 

As much as his emotions clouded his vision and stunted his breathing, the rush of blood in between his legs broke his internal monologue. As overwhelmed as his mind was, his body couldn’t be convinced to focus on anything other than the sudsy girl pressed up against him, letting out little noises of satisfaction as he let his fingers absentmindedly massage away. 

“This’s nice,” you lean back into him a bit, “it’s like masturbating, you know? Always feels better when someone else does it for you.” You didn’t feel too guilty about the sexually charged comment, considering the fat rod that was pushing into your lower back. 

He let out a short chuckle, but his breathing was rapidly turning heavy as the air clouded with steam and your wet body rubbed against him, fully arching into his erection as if you wanted to get a better feel. 

“Can I wash the rest of you?” his request is polite, but his voice is lust filled and bordering on begging. 

You hum in agreement and lift your arms to let him slip his hands around you, one crossing your chest and the other reaching around to get more gel, “It technically is shampoo and body wash, and I was promised the full treatment here.” 

As much as you wanted to keep joking with him, finding silly things to comment on to break the tension, your resolve was quickly going down the drain as his big hands lathered you up. 

“You’re so beautiful,” his voice is just audible over the rushing of the shower water, “I’ve always thought so, but now I fucking know it.” 

His warm breath against your ear manages to cut through the heat of the steam, making you shiver despite it all. ��Eddie,” you whine, his hands running up and down your torso, spending more time on your chest than the rest, but surely showering you in as much attention as his hands could reach.

Knowing that tone from earlier, already committing to knowing your body as intimately as you’ll allow him to, he immediately gives in and touches you exactly where you want him most. 

Most of the bubbles had dissipated, and he held you close to him, with one hand splayed across the center of your chest and the other dipping down to run two fingers through your now parting legs. 

He could feel the slick of your folds, standing out from the water cascading down your body, so warm and wet in a different way. 

“Fucking hell,” he groans out, letting his hips roll forwards slightly to find some friction against your backside, sliding his fingers from your hole up to your clit a few experimental times before letting his middle and ring fingers dip into you. 

When he had gone to town on you earlier in his van, which somehow felt like a million light years ago, you had taken a keen interest to the way his metal rings brushed up against your inner thighs and lower lips when he slipped his digits into you. As much as you had reveled in that new sensation, he had taken all his jewelry off along with the rest of his clothes and reservations before joining you in the shower. And now you could grind down onto his hand until he was completely buried to the hilt of his knuckles, no demon heads or upside down crosses in your way.

You wanted to wiggle and writhe around, feeling a bit week in the knees and desperate to buck your hips down against his pumping fingers. He pressed your chest tighter against him, lips pressed up against your ear, “I thought you promised to be good and stay still for me.”

He could feel your pussy clench at that, letting out a satisfied chuckle and  plunging his fingers right back into your cunt, letting the meat of his palm massage your clit in perfect time. 

“S’ this what you wanted,” his voice had the full bodied confidence of a man who didn’t just ask you to not turnaround to see him without a shirt on, “for me to be all sweet and wash your hair, then make you cum on my fingers like the dirty girl I know you are?” 

The smallest fraction of you wanted to be a brat and joke back at his silly use of shower innuendo, but your mind was almost entirely committed to the feeling of his hands on you and his dick rutting Into the meat of your ass.

“Eddie,” you could barely squeak his name out, “Eddie, can I touch you too, please? Please?” While his voice had been pleading before, you were literally begging to get your hands on him. 

“Like this,” you manage to open your eyes, head still resting against his shoulder and your hand snaking back to where his cock pressed into you, not fully grabbing it but motioning towards it with your hand. 

He snatches your wrist up with the hand not occupied with your tightening pussy, and for a second you fear that you had crossed a boundary. 

As much as you were willing to comply with not looking, you were bursting at the seams to touch him, make him feel good, show him how much you wanted to be right here with him and nowhere else. 

Before your mind could race any further, come to a screeching halt and apologize, he guides your hand up underneath your chin and demands “Spit.”

Your short circuiting brain dashes from his fingers, remaining crooked inside of you, his request, and the tone of voice he used to ask. You were fucked. Drool leaks from your lips before you even have the chance to process his words other than the immediate feeling of oh fuck yes. 

He brings your spit coated hand back to reach around, allowing you to wiggle it in between your wet bodies and find his eager cock already arching into your touch. 

He only faltered for a moment, the consistent dizzying pace of his fingers inside you stuttered the moment he felt your slick palm take an experimental stroke. The moan he let out was involuntary, along with a breathy “Oh, shit.”

Obviously you couldn’t size him up visually, but the weight of him in your palm was enough to have your mouth watering and thighs squeezing his wrist a bit tighter. Uncut? Maybe? With a pretty patch of curls to match his mop top? 

“Just like that, please,” you whine out into the steamy air, the two of you finding a joint rhythm between your hands and subtly rolling hips. 

“Your pussy feels so fucking good, so warm and tight for me,” every other word slurred into the curve of your neck. 

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you try and match his increasing speed with your hand, “Eddie, please don’t stop, I’m-“

“Shhhh,” he was getting lost in it too, “I’ve got you.”

Your legs turn to jelly, but he keeps you steadily upright with his support on your chest, focusing entirely on you despite the welling orgasm of his own rapidly approaching. 

It’s the crack in your voice that pushes him forward, the high pitched breathy moans crumbling and releasing the noises of pleasure from deep within your chest. His name  mixed in with ahhhs and uhhhs as if his name is the only word you know in this moment. 

“That’s right,” a sense of confidence welled in him as your limp body twitched against his and your cunt squeezed his relentless fingers, “cum all over my hand, doing so good for me.”

Despite your orgasm wracking your brain and body succumbing completely to whatever Eddie was willing to give you, the thought of collapsing into the shower floor never crossed your mind. He held you so close and steady against his chest, it crosses your mind that you may not be putting any weight onto your feet at all by this point. 

Rather than catch your breath as you come down from your quaking orgasm, you slip deeper into the throws of pleasure, biting your lip and craning your neck backwards so he can see the fucked out expression on your face. A few more steady, enthusiastic pumps mixed with a desperate kiss, wet and at an awkward angle, breathless and needy, perfect and dizzying, sends Eddie over the edge with you.

The deep rumble of his chest against your back as he groans into your open mouth, encourages you to keep your pace as he gently fucks himself into your hand. He’s spilling into your hand and halting his wiggling fingers buried inside you, letting the momentum that the two of you had built up come to a pulsing end. 

The two of you stay tangled in each other for a moment, hands sticky and brows dewy with sweat despite the running water, which had long lost its heat and now settled at a less than comfortable lukewarm. Neither one of you wanted to move. Eddie would have stayed there until his legs cramped and the shower turned ice cold. 

His eyes were screwed shut, head tilted back, still holding you close until you wiggled from his iron grip to bring your cum covered fingers up to your lips to suck two of them clean. 

“Jesus Christ,” he was thankful that he had opened eyes in enough time to witness that, “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, you know that?”

You let out a mischievous giggle with his cum coated fingers still in your mouth, glancing over your shoulder to catch the look on his face. Equal parts hungry to pick you up and fuck you against the shower wall right now, and melting down to nothing and slipping away down the drain, unable to even start comprehending what had just transpired between you two. 

You let your fingers go with a pop and turn back around, “Don’t act like you weren’t going to do the same,” you let the chilling water hit your face, focusing on anything other than turning around and lunging at him, wrapping your body around his and letting your skin melt into his. 

He gives into temptation and lets his pruny fingers meet his tongue. He knew what you tasted like from your escapade in his van eaierler, but he’d seize any change he got to take in as much of you as he could. 

“That was,” he started, unsure how to sum how he felt, good, great, perfect, none of those words felt correct, “fuck, yeah- that,”

“Me too,” you press your back into his again, “Thank you Eddie.”

Before he can stumble over his words any more, you ask if he’s okay for you to shut the water off, and you ask if he’d be willing to spare some sleep clothes for you to borrow. You curiously stay in the shower while he takes your excuse for him to leave unseen. 

After toweling off and slipping into the old t-shirt and boxers he left folded up on the counter for you, you found him already dressed and in bed, set criss cross and packing a bong. 

“Post-shower-orgasm smoke, cuddle, then sleep?”

“I’d love nothing more,” you get cozy among the pillows and let the swirling smoke and easy conversation lull you into a comforting half sleep. 

An easy energy settled between the two of you, a silent understanding that you weren’t going to ask him questions, and a building comfort that made him almost ready to show you. 

You slept tucked into his side, and didn’t even mind his snoring or tossing in the night. Every time he rolled over, your sleeping form just found a new way to mold into him. It was the best he had slept in months. 

A steady stream of sunlight blazing directly through the blinds and into your eyes pulled you from your slumber, gorging your groggy eyes to open and crunched up limbs to search for room to stretch. The involuntary fluttering of your eyes and long extension of your libs was far beyond your control. 

“Oh!” You whisper out to yourself once your brain manages to catch up with your waking body, realizing the somewhat compromising position the night had thrown you into, your leg hiked up and clinging to Eddie’s waist, with both your arms scrunching up his t-shirt and leaving a strip of stomach exposed. 

A negligible, unnoticeable few inches between where his sweatpants hung low on his hips and where your gripping arms had balled up his hole-ridden t-shirt stood before your gaze. 

You didn’t mean to stare, and the moment you caught yourself doing so, you quickly and quietly removed your tangled limbs from his and repositioned yourself so that he was half spooning you, eyes facing far away from his unintentionally exposed scar tissue. 

You knew it was probably going to be worse than you were expecting. You hadn’t dedicated much thought to what it could be, or what maybe had happened. You just knew it made him feel like he wasn’t worth your time, and you needed to make him feel seen and safe enough to know that that couldn’t be true. 

Everyone has insecurities, sure. There are surely parts of yourself you weren’t eager to share with the world, let alone someone you’re romantically interested in. You had moved past being astonished that someone who wore gaudy costume jewelry and sang boisterous music for a bar of twelve patrons with the energy of someone who had sold out Madison Square Garden would ever shrink into their shell the way you had seen Eddie. Now, laying in his bed and knowing that whatever it was, the scars were more than what was on his skin.

“Mfffmmm,” he groans and shifts behind you, wiggling beneath the sheets and snaking his arms to wrap around your waist and pull you close into him, “This is nice.”

His morning voice was scratchy and barely above a whisper. 

“I think you just like that my butt is all pressed up on you,” you joke, dodging admiring that you’d rather be here than anywhere in the world in this moment. 

“Yeah, I’m not complaining,” he digs his nose into the side of your neck, “But you smell nice too, ’s nice to wake up to.”

“That 3-in-1’s really doing it for ya?”

“No, you do smell like that a little, but more just like yourself. Girl smell.”

“I’ll get started on that perfume line right away. Girl Smell. Might be a million dollar business venture.”

“I just woke up,” the sleep in his voice melted away and his hands running up and down your sides were more deliberate, “Don’t make fun of me. Plus I’ve got a pretty girl in my bed making me all nervous.”

“Anyone with magic fingers like you has nothing to be worried about,” you keep the conversation playful but allow the unspoken truth, that he truly has nothing to worry about with you, be spoken.

“You just like ‘em cuz I washed your hair so well,” he plays with a strand, letting his finger pads dig into your scalp and scratch away, massaging a bit harder after you let out a satisfied groan.

“You must have lots of practice,” you reach an arm back blindly and half smack the side of his shoulder before finding his messy bedhead, staying resolutely facing the poster-covered wall. 

“You’ve got really pretty hair for a boy,” you let your finger wrap around a curl. 

“For a boy?! Excuse me, I have pretty hair period.”

“Yeah, suppose that’s true” you giggle at his joking defensiveness, “It’s incredible that it’s this nice considering you use the same thing to condition your hair as you do to wash your balls.”

“If you show me what kind of shower products you like I’ll replace the three in one,” he nuzzles his face into the hand playing with your hair, “but maybe the three in one is what’s keeping it so luscious.”

“I wanna wash your hair next time,” you say absentmindedly, meaning it wholeheartedly, with little anxiety after that you had implied a next time. 

“Yeah maybe next time,” his voice trailed off, still soft and flirty but edging on a tone that let you know this conversation was just about over. 

“Eddie,” it came out as hardly more than a whisper. You wait for him to respond but the gravity of the silence between you quickly became unbearable and you needed to break whatever tension this was. 

“I meant it yesterday when I said I wanted to go on more dates with you. You know that right?”

“Mhmm” he mumbles into your shoulder, still holding you against him.

“We have a lot of fun at the bar and stuff,” you search to find your words, “But I want you to know that I don’t just like you cuz you make me laugh and have magic guitar fingers. I like pretty much everything about you so far, and I want to know you more if you’ll let me.”

Your voice wavers, and your message is perhaps more vague than you would have liked, but the deep exhale he lets out conveys that he hears you loud and clear. 

“I know I’ve been…” he starts, “It’s just that I…”

“It’s okay Eddie,” you flip around, rolling so that your chests are pressed together and noses are almost touching, “I don’t want to push it. You can tell me when you’re ready, I just want you to know that I like you a whole lot and I don’t think there’s much that could change that right now.”

His eyelashes flutter shut, forehead touching yours, “Thank you.” 

“Unless you have a huge chest tattoo of something wildly offensive, or like a tramp stamp that says ‘I heart Ronald Regan.” He appreciates your natural ability to make him laugh even in situations like this. 

“Nah,” he pulls back and gives you a serious look, “Fuck Ronald Regan.” 

The two of you burst into a fit of giggles, rolling deeper into the sheets and settling into a comfortable cuddle again, with your head on his chest, face angled up to his and legs all tangled up.

Coming down from the beginnings of the conversation that had been lingering above both of your heads, you place a few reassuring kisses up his jaw and find your way up to his parted lips. 

“Mmmm,” he hums into the deepening kiss to signal you to stop, “I probably have mega morning breath,” he huffs into a cupped hand which makes you laugh and flop your head back into his chest.

“It’s okay, if you do then I do too and didn’t notice,” you peek back up at him, “But if you want to brush teeth and get your day started I won’t stop you.”

“No, no,” he grabs your cheeks and pulls you back up for a smushed kiss, “I wanna stay here all day with you, if you’ll let me. Our second date, we can order a pizza and watch movies here, won’t even have to put pants on.”

“That sounds really nice, I don’t have work today so I’m all yours.”

“All mine,” his grin reaches the apples of his cheeks, “I will go brush my teeth though, cuz I think this second date involves a lot of kissing.”

“Got a spare I could use?” you shuffle out of bed before situating yourself  on the edge of the bed, “Or do you brush with three in one too?”

“Oh my god,” he chuckles, “you with the three in one. After today I promise there will be three separate shower products stocked and ready for your use.”

He manages to find a spare toothbrush in the closet and keeps you wrapped in his arms while both of you take turns spitting into the sink. Looking at the two of you, eyes still crusty from sleep, in the scratched up bathroom mirror, a weird sense of domesticity washes over the two of you. 

Eddie realizes that less than 48 hours ago he was too nervous to make a move to kiss you, and now he was already thinking about making room for your toiletries in his bathroom. 

As comforting and easy it was to do normal everyday things with you at his side, he couldn’t help but notice your nipples poking through his oversized t-shirt you slept in and the way your toothpaste full mouth was framed by your perfect, spit slicked lips. 

“You got a spit kink or something?” You half joke, pressing your ass into the growing rod you could feel nudging against your side.

“Sue me,” he spits and wipes the corners of his mouth, pulling you by the waist into a minty kiss. “Bed? All day?”

“Mhmm,” you agree and lean in to kiss him again, standing on your toes and letting out a shriek of surprise when he scoops you up bridal style and travels the short distance to his bedroom. 

“Eddie!” You yelp out as he gently tosses you back into the pile of sheets. 

“I know I’m no Hulk Hogan, but moving guitar amps is pretty good strength and conditioning.”

“Shut up, you never help your friends carry the equipment.” You think of all the times you watched his poor bandmates lug their equipment after a show while he seamlessly flirted with you. 

“Not when you’re around, you’ve got me there.”

As promised the two of you laze around all morning, bowls of cereal in bed and a bowl of weed to accompany it, switching between fits of giggles and tangled in the sheets while a B horror movie plays on the little TV set propped up near the end of Eddie’s bed. 

He tells you about how he used to live with his Uncle in a trailer down the street until he saved up enough to start renting his own, the three attempts to finish high school and the relief when the local mechanic shop hired him despite his reputation around town as a satan worshiper. He talks a bit about his friends, some who’ve stayed in town and others who’ve long moved away. 

You listen attently, taking in every spared detail. In return he asks you about where you’re from, why the hell you had moved to a bumfuck town in Indiana to be a bartender. He assures you that you wouldn’t have liked him if you had known each other in high school and you laugh and tell him you were far from popular yourself. 

After inhaling a large pizza and running out of VHS tapes you demand a “post pizza bloated cuddle” to which he happily obliges.

“Wish we could do this every day,” he pulls you into him.

“Then we’d need a much bigger movie selection, and maybe body doubles to go do our jobs,” you don’t disagree, although lazy and uneventful the day felt perfect. 

“Don’t wanna go to work tomorrow,” he whines, holding you a little tighter.

“Me either, but we can’t be in this lazy cuddle bubble forever,” his hands came up to massage and scratch your scalp, which he now knew you loved, “but next time we’re both free maybe we can have that third date.”

“If I remember correctly, date three is when I finally get to kiss you,” he jokingly smooches behind your ear and down your neck. 

“Only if you behave,” you reply sarcastically, “you’ve been such a gentleman lately, but you’ve been pushing it mister.” 

“I’ve never been accused of being a gentleman before,” his voice trails off as he buries his nose into your neck, “Will you let me be a gentleman now, make you feel good?” His tone was suddenly dripping with lust, sending a rush of arousal through your already so-relaxed body. 

“Mhmm,” you agree and let your body mold back into his a bit more, pressing yourself against him and letting his hands start to wander.

You arch your neck around from your spooning position and search for his lips, your kiss starting out gentle but not staying that way for very long. 

“You’re just somethin’ else,” he breathes out in between heated kisses, his eyes big and round, earnest, making your heart swell.

“Can I make you feel good too?” you roll your hips into his erection, your breath catching in your throat when you feel it pulsing under his boxers and pressing into the space between your legs. 

You flip around to straddle him, not hiding your intention to grind yourself down onto his covered cock, moans from both of you interrupting the hungry exchange of tongues and lips.

A shaky breath grabs your attention and he finds the air to exhale out, “Can I fuck you?”

You bring your hands to his cheeks to pull him into a deep kiss, continuing to rock your hips against him, giving him words as well you mumble a “Fuck yes, please, please Eddie.”

He finds the hem of your shirt and slips it over your shoulders, the momentary break in kissing makes you whine. He immediately makes it up to you by paying delightful attention to your exposed chest, leaving sloppy wet kisses on every inch of skin he had access to, “fuck”s and “so perfect” breaking them up. 

You instinctively reach down in between the two of you to take his hard cock into your hand, still pressing your core against it, but taking the rest into your hand to stroke him over his boxers, the choked out moan that escapes him is the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.

You’re losing yourself in the feeling of his weight in your palm, sitting up to see his gorgeous fucked out expression, pinched eyebrows and flushed cheeks.

He swore he’d died and gone to heaven, despite all his sins, with you above him, lip tucked in between your grinning teeth as you rubbed up on him. Fuck, there was no going back after this.

You lean down to resume making out for a moment, missing the feeling of his nose pressed into the side of yours and his too-perfect eyelashes brushing the tops of your cheeks. 

“We can, um-“ you catch your breath, hips stuttering as you find your words, “I can turn around. Or we can make a blindfold or something.” 

His heart swelled at the thought that amidst fucking yourself against his lap you still had the courtesy to think of his comfort, his obvious insecurity, the elephant in the room that he was so desperately trying to shoo away. 

“I want you,” his voice strangely steady, “and I’ll let you have me, no stipulations.” 

You nod with a “Please.”

“Only because, I plan on fucking you every chance I get,” his tone makes you clench your thighs, “So we might as well rip this bandaid off now, because if you’re going to be my girlfriend I don’t want you worrying that I’m hiding something from you.”

He flips you over so you’re now laying beneath him, eyes still glassy with lust and mind swirling with the words he’s just let out.

“I’m gonna take off my shirt now, and I don’t want you to pretend like everything is fine, or that you don’t notice anything, because that’ll be a thousand times worse, okay? I know it’s bad. It doesn’t hurt or anything, but I know it’s not easy to look at.”

With that he pull this black t-shirt off by the back neck collar, and bares his soul to you. You can tell he’s examining your face for a reaction, very carefully managing your facial expressions for his benefit. 

He was right, it wasn’t easy to look at. Only because it made you wonder what horrible thing had happened to leave half of his torso, hip, thigh, and what you could only assume traveled onto his back as well, left entirely torn away and scarred. 

“And-“ he cut off your wandering eyes with his words, “Don’t ask what happened. I’ll tell you eventually I just- We can’t have that discussion if we’re about to have sex.” 

You nodded with understanding, you knew better than to ask. 

You think that your snooping and seed of knowledge helped hide some of your shock, his comment about missing a nipple dampening your realization that he was telling the truth, the scar tissue running so deep that his entire pec was covered in a jagged pink , slightly mishapen scar tissue, and leaving his opposite nipple to stand alone on his chest. 

The one thing that did leave you in a bit of shock was half of a tattoo on his hip that abruptly ended where the scar tissue started. Some sort of zombie head, the black ink lines all coming to a halt when’re his skin had been injured.

You let a tentative hand come up, fearing he’ll flinch away, but he doesn’t. You touch his chest, feeling the textural difference as you let your palm run across his chest and down to his hip. 

“You know, I still think you’re super hot, right?” You try to assure him, but he only lets out a dry chuckle. 

“I mean it,” you sit up a bit, pulling your hand from its exploration of his skin and bringing it to your own chest, using three fingers to cover your left nipple, “you’d still like me, right?” 

The softness in his face almost made you jump up to wrap him into a hug, you wanted him to know that everything was okay and he was safe with you, whatever happened was in the past and he didn’t have to worry. Although the moment was emotionally charged, neither of you could ignore the fact that you were both ravenously horny for each other. 

“I’m sorry you felt like you had to hide this from me,” you pull his face down to yours, “but I’m glad you showed me, because I’m so fucking ready for you to ruin me.”

He lurches forward and lets his body weight collapse down onto you, your legs widening to wrap around his hips, arm and legs locking him against you. 

Feeling his bare chest pressed against yours, lips on your neck and hips rutting into your spread legs, has your head spinning. 

“Please Eddie,” you whine, “let me feel you.”

Without missing a beat he shoves the waistband of his boxers down just enough to reach his thighs, hard dick springing free in the little space in between you, and he snatches your wrist and shoves it in between your bodies without unlatching his lips from your collar bone. 

“Oh fuck,” you couldn’t see what you were grasping, just like in the shower, but you didn’t dare push him off of you to catch a glimpse. He was all over you, hands tangled in your hair, groans and whimpers hardly making their way out in between the wet sloppy kisses he spread across your neck and chest. 

He slips a hand down your body, gracing your ribcage with his fingertips, a stark contrast to how they suddenly part your lips and rub the pool of slick from your hole up to your clit. 

“So wet, this for me?” He quirks and eyebrow and sinks a digit into you, causing your mouth to open and hips to wiggle up to ask for more.

“Yes ’s for you,” you breathe out, wanting to give him some pushback, wipe the smug look off his face, but not finding an ounce of courage to do so. You just let your head lull back and eyelids flutter shut as he curls his fingers perfectly inside you. “All for you.”

You use your free hand to push your underwear as far down your hips as this position will allow, not wanting to shift your focus from the feeling of him on your lips, his pulsing cock in your hand. 

“Need you,” you gasp out, partially at the feeling of his knuckle deep fingers buried inside of you, and equally the fucked out look on his face looming over yours, eyes blown wide and mouth parted on the verge of begging for more, “Eddie, need you to fuck me, please.”

He sits up and removes his fingers from you, earning a wince and a whine. He helps crunch your legs up to remove your panties, leaving your legs raised and crossed over one of his shoulders. He takes a moment to kiss your ankle and tenderly run his hands down the length of your leg. He took the moment to take off his own boxers, leaving you both bare in front of each other for the first time. 

“You’ve got a pretty cock,” you complement him earnestly, it was pretty. He gave you a halfhearted scoff and an eyeball in return. “No Eds, I mean it. It’s big too, good thing you got me ready with your fingers. That and I’ve been soaking wet for you for like 48 hours now, so it shouldn’t be a problem,” you giggle. His shy smile tells you he’s willing to take the compliment. 

You let your legs fall from their perch on his shoulder and fall to either side of his hips, opening yourself up to him. He’s staring, mouth half agape. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but to have you laid out like this before him, fully ready to give yourself over to him and wanting him wholly in return, how couldn’t he stare. 

You let your hand stroke up his cock, bringing his attention back to where the two of you nearly met. You angle him closer to you, you’re slowly pumping fist brushing against your own center. He snaps out of his trance and nudges your hand away, using his own grip to tap his thick cock against your opening. 

Tap, tap tap. His head meets your slick folds, hips jerking slightly with every tap.

“Don’t tease me Eds,” you push your hips forward and are only met with him rubbing his dick into the outside of your pussy, “want you inside, need it so bad.”

He want’s to be a bother and continue his teasing, watching your writhe and squirm, but he can’t find it in him to deny you, so he presses the tip in and gauges your face for a reaction, only finding babbling bliss and pleas for more. 

He’s sinking into you at an agonizing pace, craning down from his kneeling position above you to frame your head with bent arms and his lips on yours as you moan into each other’s mouths, him filling you more and more. 

Your hands are in his hair, keeping your foreheads anchored together, breathing in tandem. He finally sinks all the way down and you can feel it in your lungs. You wrap your ankles around his back and squeeze him into you tighter, not wanting him to move just yet, wanting to just feel how deep he filled you up for the first time. 

He lets out a shaky exhale and squeezes his eyes shut, “You were fuckin’ made for me,” he punctuates this with a subtle roll forward of his hips, lips falling into yours as if they had nowhere else to go. 

You let your legs fall back, unclasping his hips, and move your hands from his wild hair down to his thighs, pushing him to start fucking you. 

“Feel’s so fucking good,” you whisper into his mouth, your hands hardly assisting him anymore as he pumps in and out of your slick cunt, almost knocking the air out of you each time. 

He grabs your chin with the hand that’s not propping himself up, “look at me,” his pace doesn’t falter and your mind nearly turns to mush, “you’re mine now, yeah?”

“Yes Eddie,” it comes out as a broken sob, your eyes barely able to focus on him with how close he was, “all yours, only yours.” Your mind had barely made the decision to say the words before they had escaped your lips, a dumbfounded truth serum setting over you in your cock drunk state. 

You knew it to be true though, there was no going back after this, and you were willing to give yourself over fully, and accept anything he would give you. 

“Ahh, fuck” you let out after a particularly harsh thrust, fists now dripping the sheets beneath you. 

“So fucking good for me,” his hands now found purchase on your hips, setting a rhythm between you that only a musician could. 

Through glassy eyes you admire him. Curly bangs stuck to his forehead, frantically thrusting torso making his tattoos look like stop motion cartoons, and through it all the scars are hardly noticeable. If anything, they’re just another part of him, the person between your legs that you found incredibly sexy, insecurities and all. 

His perfect hands slid from your hips to your shoulders, now using the weight of your torso as leverage to fuck into you harder. His eyes bore into yours, searching for eye contact and finding your reassuring gaze that told him this was everything you wanted and more. 

“Yes, yes, oh fuck,” you babble out. His little grunts and whimpers send volts of electricity to your core and fog your mind with lust and desire.

He moves a hand down to meet your center, palm splaying across your abdomen and keeping you pinned to the bed, thumb methodically catching your clit with each thrust. He didn’t have to ask if it felt good, the rolling back of your eyes and mouth so wide he could see your molars were enough of an indication that he was headed in the right direction.

“Mhmmmm,” you could hardly form words, but smiled up through your fucked out gaze at him, wide beam and lust fulled eyes telling him that he couldn’t possibly be making you feel any better than you do right now. 

He leans back a bit, balancing himself on his thighs keeping his pace, thumb on your clit and eyes locked into yours. Through a groan he brings his unoccupied hand up to his face, biting down on the knuckle of his pointer finger, trying not to blow his load at the feeling of you squeezing around him. 

Of course, this only made him look hotter to you, and thus you flexed around his cock even tighter. 

Unexpectedly, he pulls out of you completely and before you can muster up the breath to complain, he’s dipped his lapping tongue against you. He fully buries himself into your cunt, cutting off the rhythm, of his cock with the somehow perfectly timed pulsing of his hungry tongue. 

You can’t help but cry out, arch your hips, and send a hand flying to his hair to ground yourself. Through frantic panting and wet slurping sounds you think you can make out a “just had to taste you.”

Completely breathless, you can hardly conjure a response before he’s plunging into you again, fucking into you deeply and capturing your parted lips into a passionate kiss.

Something takes over you, and you’re suddenly wrapping your legs around his hips and using some found momentum to flip the two of your over. Suddenly, you’re on top of him, his curls splayed around his pretty face and body laid flat beneath you. 

Before you had a moment to question yourself, you anchor your hands onto his shoulders and try your best to pick up the pace he had set earlier. Hips rolling and wet slapping sounds coming from between you. 

“Jesus- fuck,” he stuttered in his movements, unsure if he wanted his hands on your face or your tits or your hips or… they landed on your ass and he wouldn’t argue with his first instincts. 

“Eddie, I’ve wanted you like this for so long,” your words were breathy and mixed with lustful gasps, “always wanted to have you like this.”

“We could have done this a long time ago, huh?” He tries not to think about all the time wasted, and instead fantasies about all the making up for lost time you’ll do in the near future. 

“You were always giving me those eyes while you played with your band,” you looked angelic to him, face hovering above him, framed only be the poor overhead lighting and flickering VHS menu of the last film you’d finished, “I always wanted you, just wasn’t sure you wanted me like this too.”

Your statement was simple enough, but he knew what you meant. You wanted him more than a fuck, and that’s what he had been worried about all along. Now, to have you sunk down on his cock like this, telling him that you had been scared in the same way as he had, only made him roll his hops up into you and pull your cheeks down for a sloppy kiss to seal the deal. You were finally on the same page. 

Switching from a bounce of your hips, you lean back slowly and shift to more of a roll, keeping his cock buried deep inside of you while you gyrate your hips. Your arm extends back in between his spread legs to keep you stable, your torso finding its own rhythm in the midst of pleasure and fucking yourself onto his cock. 

“So fucking perfect,” he gasps out, hardly able to take in the sight of your body writhing and rolling above him. He manages to find bait of sense in his brain and brings his hand back to your lower stomach, thumb flicking over your clit with every thrust of your hips. 

“Oh,eddieohmygosh,” it came out as one breathy syllable, “pleasedon’tstopthat.”

He gently fucks himself up into you, matching your movements and not throwing you off of the sinful rhythm you’ve set, just managing too punctuate each bounce with the raise of his hips into yours and the increased pressure of his thumb on your clit. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he loves the way each breathy word out of your lips is matched with the beautiful bounce of your tits, “Eddie, you’re gonna-“

He doesn’t change a thing, the pressure on your clit, the arch of his hips, he would sooner die than rob you of pleasure or ruin this moment. Every moment he get’s to look at you, he thinks it’s the most beautiful you’ve ever looked, but he knows for sure that this one takes the cake. 

“Ahhh, I’m-“ you don’t  have to finish your statement for him to know you’re cumming on his cock, the pulsing squeeze of your walls and intense concentration from him not to bust on the spot, and rather to focus on the parting of your lips and the twitching of your hips on his. 

“That’s it,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, but lets up on the pressure as soon as he feels you jerk against him, “that’s my girl.”

You lurch down and wrangle him into a kiss, only wanting to feel his lips on yours as you come down from your orgasm. You’re still slowly rolling your hips against his, but focused more on the feeling of his cheeks under your palms and his lips on yours. 

“You okay?” He asks in between tongue tied kisses. 

“Yes, perfect, thank you,” you arch your back into him a bit, “ready for more.” 

Although you were fully prepared to bounce on his cock until he came, you were pleasantly surprised when his large hands surrounded your waist and hoisted you up off the bed. He wanted to try and keep his cock inside you, but accepted defeat as he managed to situate on the edge of the bed.

He shifted around you and situated himself in between your legs. You laid out, everything below the knees hanging off the edge of his hand-me-down mattress. He stood above you and lowered himself to land a few wet kisses on your breasts, his hard cock pressing into your needy center. 

He jerked you up by the underside of your knees, pressing your thighs into your chest and sinking down into your open pussy, causing a deep groan to emit from both of you.

Here he was, scars and all, standing above you and thrusting into you as if it was the last thing he would ever do, and he looked like an angel to you. 

More thoughtful than you may have initially given him credit for, his thumb finds your clit again and he politely, yet breathlessly asks, “Can you come again for me, pretty girl?”

How could you say no to that. You dumbly nod and throw your head back against the sheets, your hands balled up at your sides as he thrusted into you, grunting and moaning your name. 

“So fucking good Eddie,” you manage to squeak out, “You make me feel so fucking good.”

“Ah fuck, yeah, yes,” his voice nearly jumped an octive, signaling his release. “Where should I-“ he began to ask.

“Inside,” it came out as two syllables in-between breaths, “It’s okay you can come-“

“Fuuuuuck,” a strangled moan and a collapse of his arms, along with the delicious pulse of his cock inside you signaled his release. 

Before you could eve catch your breath, regain consciousness of the situation, he was reeling back and replacing his softening cock with two fingers. He latched his lips to your clit and began to suck in time with his finger’s replication of his cock’s earlier movements. 

“Oh my god,” you were truly taken aback, his face buried in your cunt and setting you back on track to your building orgasm. 

It didn’t take more than a minute and a half of him slurping your mixed releases from your cunt and bullying your g-spot with those damn magic fingers to send you hurdling towards orgasm number two, shaking and crying out his name. 

It wasn’t until your legs were truly shaking and your hand was searching for his forehead to push him away from overstimulation that he finally let up and let up of your pussy with a wet pop and a smug look.

“You come?” He asks again, just as he had in the back of his van. 

You don’t have the energy to respond, only roll your eyes and flip him the bird as you flop back down onto his bedsheets. 

He managed to get you a warm rag and a cold glass of water, stroking your har and asking if you felt alright.

“Feel perfect Eddie,” you say after a long gulp, “you took such good care of me, you always do.”

He stroked your hair and positioned the two of you back comfortably beneath his sheets. “Thank you,” he starts, but you cut him off with a kiss. 

“No, thank you,” you kiss him again, “for trusting me.” The look in your eyes could nearly make him melt. “You’re really something special Eddie, I mean it.”

“Special enough for a fourth date?”

You smack his chest and bury your head into his neck. “I don’t think we have to count dates if I’m your girlfriend now…”

Those dimples you adore perk up on his cheeks, and he bear hugs you, scarred chest and all. 

“What time should I set the alarm for tomorrow?” He asks with a sorrow in his voice. 

“How about never,” you roll over to trample him with another kiss, smothering his body in yours, knowing you’d be luck enough to have many moments like this soon to come. 

A/N: I'm sorry I have long lost the tracking of a taglist (crying emoji) don't want to bother anyone who asked to be added the last time I wrote a pic ten thousand years ago, so I hope this reaches everyone it needs to <3

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #smut #Eddie munson imagine #Eddie munson #stranger things smut #Eddie munson fanfiction

[gumycandyyy]

Heyo I'm here to request that Male Reader x Winter King you wanted-

Anyways, can you write for a male Reader that used to be Simon and Betty's friend before the crown and the Mushroom War, who randomly shows up in the Land of Ooo? As in, Simon thought that they had died a long time ago, alongside Betty, but the Reader had survived through some odd means and got reunited with him?

Lol, if that's too much, then I'm sorry. It could be a fic or Headcanons, whichever you prefer!

⠂"ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴏʟᴅ."⠐

⠂"ᴡᴇ ʙᴏᴛʜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ."⠐

AHJFHJGSKHA HOW DID YOU KNOW I WANTED TO WRITE ABOUT SIMON?? I LOVE THIS WET CAT.

Winter King actually isn't this one, because I wanted to focus on Fionna and Cake ver. Simon

Male reader

Platonic/Romantic (I'm leaving it ambiguous, because I mean, c'mon. It's Simon.)

Type: Headcanons (With a drabble and oneshot mixed in)

Summary: An old friend shows up after a bunch of time-related shenanigans, and is finally ready to settle back down in Ooo. Though this sudden happening is quite a shock to Simon.

⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂

-You used to be an old family friend of Betty's, and met Simon through her.

-Y'all were really close, and they invited you over for dinner every other weekend.

-But one day, you just...

-Vanished.

-Everyone thought you were kidnapped, and Simon and Betty were heartbroken.

-However...

-Through some odd means, you were kept alive for a thousand years.

-It all started one weird day when you bought a little doodad from a garage sale.

-the next thing you knew, you were in a big yellow cube with a pink wall guy.

-Apparently the little thing you bought was an item from another universe, and it was janking up Ooo.

-Aaaaand technically you just committed a serious crime by purchasing the little thing.

-And whether intentional or not, you now had to go on trial for this little accident. You tried to explain what happened, but you were found guilty.

-You were sentenced to a thousand years in some donked up time jail.

-Apparently, you wouldn't age in there, and a thousand years would pass on Ooo before you were set free.

-It was the worst thing that could've ever happened to you.

⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂

-The time jail kept you from losing your sanity, and a thousand years later, you were released.

-You were teleported back to Ooo, which looked quite different than how you remembered it.

-It felt like an eternity since you've seen rolling green hills and a clear blue sky. An eternity since you've breathed familiar air.

-You heard something, about a hundred yards from you.

-You approached the loud noises to see some buff dude with a sick beard and robotic arm beating up some one-eyed monster.

-He punched the creature, and it was sent flying towards you.

-You ducked, and the dude noticed you.

"Ah, sorry man! Didn't see you there!"

-You assured him it was nothing.

"You're not from around here, are you?"

⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂

You shook your head, then blinked confusedly. Well, technically you were. It had just been 1000 years. You tried to get your story straight, then told the guy.

"Woah, so does that mean you're technically a time traveler?"

You shrugged. Time travel hadn't been proven yet, has it? You weren't sure. You asked the guy his name, so you didn't have to refer to him as just 'the guy.'

"Oh, yeah. Name's Finn. Good ol' Finn the H."

"The H.?"

"Y'know, the Human?"

But you were human too. With all due respect, you asked him about his strange surname.

"Oh, uh.. My real last name is Mertens, but I like 'the Human' better. It's only recently other humans have started living in Ooo. So I'm kinda seen as 'that one human' y'know?"

You nodded, trying to make sense of what he said. what had happened that caused humans to leave Ooo? How was that even possible?

The two of you talked for a short while, and you learned a little bit about Ooo. You were used to knowing a lot, but you barely even recognized this place.

"Oh, you're from the 20th century, right?"

You nodded.

"I've got a friend from then, maybe you'd like to meet him? He's one cool dude."

⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂

-You agreed politely, wondering if this 20th century man would help you adjust to life in whatever century this was. What century was this anyway? 30-something?

-Finn ended up taking you to a scrappy little bar filled with people that looked to be made out of candy.

"Anything you'd like to order?"

"Nothing for me, Dirt Beer Guy. Maybe he'd like one, but we're just waiting for-"

⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂

"Simon?"

You stared in disbelief at the face of your old friend, who looked at you with the same expression. He was carrying something under his arm, but he dropped it in shock.

"No way, you know him? That's awesome!"

Simon slowly walked up to you, as if afraid you'd disappear at any second. Tears welled up in the both of your eyes, and you had to suppress breaking down right there. It hadn't occurred to you that this 20th century man could've been Simon, but now that you were seeing him, you realized you subconsciously wished it would be him.

He spoke your name softly, not much more than a whisper, as if anything louder would cause reality to shatter, or one of you to wake up from a dream.

"You... You're really here, aren't you?"

You nodded softly, not daring to say a word. Tears spilled out of your eyes, and Finn looked slightly confused.

"Do you guys, uh.... Wanna step out for a minute?"

You agreed, still quietly, saying it would probably be better to not make a scene. Finn gave you a thumbs up and shooed you out, saying he'd wait for you when you got back inside.

You stepped out of the little bar with Simon, realizing it got dark out while you were inside.

"So..."

"How about we take a walk?"

You nodded, falling into step with Simon as you walked into a nice little forest. The small stream rushing by provided ambient noise.

"How are you here..?"

Simon asked, with an air of disbelief. He blinked, wiping his glasses and rubbing his eyes. As if you'd disappear once he'd open them. You explained what happened, and suddenly gasped.

"If you're here, that means Betty must be here too, right? Where is she?"

Simon sighed, bringing his arms up to hold himself.

"She's..."

"She's not."

You decided not to pry, but you couldn't help but notice the sinking feeling in your gut. She was one of your best friends, and she was gone. But she was Simon's fiancee. It must have hit him harder, whatever happened to her. You'd ask later, when the emotional turmoil between the two of you wasn't so fresh.

You walked in peaceful silence between the two of you, listening to the sounds of the stream, or chirping crickets.

You took that time to study Simon, how his appearance changed, and things that stayed the same.

Same fashion sense,

same goofy circle glasses,

even the same walk you remember.

There was a white streak in his hair now.

Wrinkles on his face.

Something about him just seemed so...

Sad.

"You've gotten old."

Simon smiled, though it seemed bitter.

"We both have."

"I missed you, Simon. Not a day went by that I didn't think of you, Betty, or any of our other friends."

Simon stopped walking, and you copied. He seemed as if he was about to cry again. To be honest, you were too. Talking about all of this while looking him in the face didn't fare well for your emotional state.

He took off his glasses, wiping at his eyes. Simon smiled bitterly through it though. He seemed to be so lonely. You wondered where he lived now.

". . ."

He wiped his eyes again, then looked straight at you with an unwavering gaze.

"You have no idea how much we missed you. Even years after you disappeared, we still looked. Even when the police failed, we still-"

He inhaled sharply, breath shaking. He turned his head away, as if ashamed of his emotions.

You placed your hand on his shoulder, trying to provide comfort. Simon suddenly wrapped his arms around you, pressing his face into your shoulder. You returned the embrace, holding onto him just as tightly.

Simon's breath shook, and you softly rubbed his back. You had no idea what he's gone through, and you were genuinely unsure whether you were helping or not.

"Simon..?"

His grip on you loosened, and he looked up at you.

You said nothing else, but you gently rested your forehead on his. He sniffed, then took a deep breath. Your hands fell to his waist, while his rested on your shoulders. Simon closed his eyes, cherishing this small bit of comfort.

After a few moments, Simon pulled away, bringing his fist up to his mouth and clearing his throat.

"W- well, today was certainly... Eventful."

You laughed softly, agreeing with his remark. The two of you walked back to the little bar, realizing you'd gotten farther from it than you thought you did.

Simon cleared his throat yet again, once you reached the outside of the bar.

"Yeah, Simon?"

He thought for a moment, then spoke.

". . .Thank you."

⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂

Thanks for reading! I absolutely loved writing this, and Simon needs a hug.

Your complimentary artwork ^^

reblog for a beginner writer?

#no beta we die like Jake #simon petrikov x reader #fionna and cake #fionna and cake x reader #pre fionna and cake events #simon petrikov #simon petrikov is a wet cat #fandom #brainrot #finn the human #adventure time #simon needs a hug #fanfiction #selfshipping community #simon petrikov x male reader

[midnightsnyx]

girl at home | mat barzal | part 5

pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader summary: you’re eighteen when you find yourself pregnant after Mat leaves for hockey. nearly eight years later, Mat finds out about your daughter and you have to deal with the consequences of not telling him about her.

warnings: swearing, angst, food, fluff, not edited word count: 2.3k authors note: it's my bday tmw and i am going out of town for the weekend so i wanted to get this posted!! also, i have no idea how pr management works so i def got everything wrong so pls don't yell at me lol i feel like this chapter is just like a roller-coaster that went off the tracks and blew up and someones trying to put it back together with tape from the dollar store so im sorry but i hope yall like it anyway and don't hate me pls <3 send your thoughts or come yell at me about this story bc I LOVE hearing from you guys!! It feeds my writing soul. thank u all for the love on this story so far and lmk if you wanna be added to my taglist. also thinking about doing some smau for this fic and wondering if you guys have any ideas or suggestions?

if you asked to be added to the taglist and didn't get tagged it's cause you didn't show up when i searched for you! so shoot me a msg and we can figure it out. also if you want to be added or taken off the taglist please let me know <3

requests are open. masterpost masterlist taglist form ask box

You didn’t think the situation with Mat’s statement could get any worse. You were already being pestered by your mom, your friends and even other parents at the day camps Nora attended. Mostly everyone knew that it was true that Mat was her father at that point so the statement caused questions to rise. Ignoring everybody’s opinions about it was easy but six simple words from Nora were what broke you. 

“I thought Mat was my daddy,” she said softly while eating breakfast one morning. She had been quiet since the day before but it continued when she woke up the next morning. You thought maybe she was just moody and tired but it ended up being much more than that.

It took you a minute to answer, trying to figure out where she might have heard or been told that. It wasn’t that surprising that she might have gotten the impression that he was her dad considering how much time Mat had been spending with the two of you or she overheard a conversation. Kids are very perceptive but you couldn’t see how anyone would directly tell her about the public statement and you had been very careful about what you said around Nora and told everyone else to do the same. 

Apparently someone didn’t get the memo. 

You had two options. You could lie to Nora about what was going on or you could explain it in the best way you could to her. Lying to your daughter was the last thing you wanted to do but figuring out the easiest way to explain it so she would understand was hard. How were you supposed to explain that yes, Mat is her daddy but he was a fucking idiot and told the world that she’s not even though he said he wanted to be in her life. It would have been so simple to take the easy way out but it wouldn’t have been fair to Nora so after she finished her breakfast, you sat her down. 

“You’re feeling a little confused, huh?” you asked, watching her fiddle with a loose string on her sweater. 

She nodded, still not looking up at you and not offering her thoughts. It was a bit alarming because she was usually a chatterbox, even when she was upset about something. She would let you know exactly what was wrong. 

“Who told you Mat was your daddy?” 

She finally looked up at you, and the tears threatening to spill from her eyes made you both angry and upset. You were ready to find whoever told her and scream at them but her answer stunned you.

“I heard you talking to Jaxy,” she whispered. “I wasn’t trying to listen but I was coming out to get some water and you said that you were mad at Mat.” 

She didn’t elaborate on what else she may have heard which was unnerving because you probably said a lot of things about Mat that night when Jax came over to talk to you about it. You hoped she didn’t stay long enough for your breakdown where you had cried for thirty straight minutes. 

She sniffled, wiping a couple tears away. “I don’t understand.”

Your heart broke but you still struggled with how to explain everything to her. Telling her in the beginning was probably a better idea but you were so caught up in your own thoughts and feelings, you ignored the person who should have been your number one priority the entire time. 

“Mat is your daddy, baby,” you said. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

I’m sorry I kept you a secret.

“How come everyone is saying he’s not?” 

Mat should have been the one to answer this question because it was his doing, but you hadn’t spoken to him since the night he was at your apartment and the two of you argued. He had texted you the day after but you ignored it because you didn’t know what you would say when given the chance.

“Well, sometimes people make mistakes and Mat said something he shouldn’t have,” you explained, hoping it was enough and it seemed to be enough at first but then she hugged you tightly.

“I love you mama,” she said and before you could reply, she quietly asked, “Do you think Mat loves me?” 

“I’m sure he does,” you told her and it took everything in you not to cry. 

. . .

Liana: dinner at our place @ 6. bring nora and don’t be late!!!

You’re tempted to decline the request and just stay home but you’ve been promising Liana and Nadia that you would actually visit instead of dropping Nora off and leaving like you’ve been doing. Avoiding Mat is becoming increasingly difficult. It’s been two weeks since he released the statement and a week since your conversion with Nora. She’s been asking a lot of questions, ones that you didn’t plan on having to answer so soon. You expected her to be angry with you for not telling her but she took your confirmation that Mat’s her dad with ease. 

So it didn’t come as a surprise when her first question was whether Mat would be at the Barzal household for this dinner. You hadn’t bothered to ask Liana, mainly because you knew it would definitely impact your decision to agree to go. 

“Did you know that Zoe’s mom and dad aren’t together either?” She says during the drive to the Barzal’s. 

You do know this but you humor her. “Really?”

“Yup. Zoe said she spends weekends with her dad and stays with her mommy during the week,” she explains and then moves on to a different topic. You’re a little curious why she would talk about her friends’ living arrangements but when you finally pull into the driveway, your question is answered. 

“Do I have to stay at Mat’s on the weekend?” She asks and if you hadn’t already parked the car, you would have hit the brakes. 

“No,” you say a little too quickly and sharply because she frowns. 

“How come?”

You don’t answer her question right away, getting out of the car and walking around to the other side. She’s already unbuckling her seatbelt by the time you open the door and she’s still frowning. 

“Just no, Nora.”

“But Zoe does!”

You can’t explain custody agreements to a seven-year-old so you say the first excuse you can think of. 

“He doesn’t live here,” you say, taking her hand and begin walking towards the house. She’s dragging her feet, clearly not happy with your response. 

“Do I have to call him dad?” 

“No.”

“Why?”

“Just ‘cause,” you say, stopping at the door and turning to her. Her arms are crossed and she’s giving you the look that says she won’t let up until you give her an answer she wants.

“Do you want to call him dad?” 

She pauses, looking down at the ground and frowning. After a moment she shakes her head. 

“No, but Miss. Jones says you’re not supposed to call your mommy and daddy by their first names ‘cause it’s disrespectful.” 

“It’s not up to Miss. Jones,” you say gently. “This is new, and you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

After a moment, she mutters a quiet “okay,” and then: “do you think Nadia has ice-cream for dessert?”

“Guess we’ll have to go inside and ask,” you reply and raise your fist to knock on the door but it swings open before you can. Liana is waiting on the other side with a big smile on her face. Nora runs straight to her and giggles when the older girl picks her up and swings her around. 

“C’mon in,” Liana says, ushering you inside. So far there’s no sign of Mat so some of the tension leaves your body. After putting both yours and Nora’s shoes aside, you make your way to the kitchen. Nadia is puttering around, juggling a million things but she still smiles softly when she sees you. 

“Can I help with anything?” 

“You can keep me company,” she says and points to a chair. “Sit down and update me on what you’ve been up to.”

You know that you can’t argue with her so you sit and chat idly with her. She doesn’t bring up anything to do with Mat and you’re not sure what to think about it. You almost slip up and ask if he’s going to be here for dinner but decide not to. You haven’t seen him around since you arrived, so he’s probably out. Maybe with a girl. 

Not that you care, obviously. 

Mike eventually pokes his head in the kitchen to greet you and ask how you’ve been. He offers to set the table but Nadia shoos him out of the kitchen, rolling her eyes fondly. 

“Don’t get married, they’re nothing but trouble,” she jokes but there’s a smile on her face that lingers even after her husband leaves. You always admired their relationship, and were certain that you and Mat would be like it some day but it wasn’t in the cards. 

Soon, Nadia calls everyone to dinner. Nora immediately asks why Mat isn’t here and there’s an awkward silence until Liana breaks it.

“He’s busy,” she tells Nora and that must be enough because she just nods and starts eating dinner. Nothing else is said about Mat but just as you’re all finishing dessert, you hear the door open and close and there’s only one person you figure it will be.  

Mat walks into the dining room, clearly caught off guard by your presence. Nora hops off her chair and darts over to him, wrapping her arms around his legs and starts chatting excitedly. He’s trying to give her all his attention but his eyes keep flickering to you. 

When Nadia and Mike get up to start clearing the table and Liana asks Nora if she wants to go watch a movie, you realize that the three of them planned this. It’s almost like you’re kids again, fighting about something stupid and needing his parents to help fix the problem. 

Mat looks at you a little helplessly when the room clears and it’s just the two of you. There’s no way you can yell at him with his family and Nora in the next room and you realize that was also probably planned. 

“Can we talk?” he asks and you really don’t want to, but you realize that eventually you’re going to have to talk to him so you nod. You follow him out the back door and the two of you sit on the porch steps in silence until you finally break it.

“Why didn’t you come to me about what PR wanted to do? We could have figured out something together.”

He shrugs, looking at the ground. “I didn’t think to ask you about it. I just wanted to fix everything before it got complicated. I wasn’t thinking.” 

“Yeah, no shit,” you mutter. “That’s something you’re great at. You don’t think before you do anything.” 

You jump when he stands up suddenly and turns to face you. He’s angry but so are you.

“No, fuck that. You can’t just expect me to do everything right, when a month ago, all I had to worry about was hockey. I can’t be number one dad overnight! You didn’t even tell me about her for six years!” 

You’re a bit taken off guard by his sudden outburst but you can do anger too.

“That is the exact reason I didn’t tell you about her, Mat. Hockey is always going to come first in your life,” you snap. “And I didn’t ask you to be a number one dad, all I asked was that you be sure you wanted to be in her life before you committed to anything because this is exactly what I was worried about.” 

He falters a little, probably not expecting you to return the anger. 

“I didn’t want to post what they asked me to,” he says, sounding defeated. “But I didn’t know how to say no. When PR tells you to jump, you jump.”

You’ve no idea how public relations in hockey works, it’s possible that they would have posted the statement without asking Mat but you’re so damn angry. You’re angry but you don’t know who you’re even supposed to be mad at now. 

“You should have come to me,” you say again. “That’s how co-parenting works, you know.”

His mouth twitches. “That’s what we were doing?”

You can feel the anger slowly dissipating. Mat’s shoulders aren’t as tense and he plops back down on the steps so you sit next to him, letting your shoulders and knees knock against his.

“Well, you are her dad,” you admit. “And she is very concerned about her future living arrangements.”

He looks at you a little confused but there’s a small smile spreading across his face. 

“Does she know?”

“Yeah,” you tell him. “She’s smarter than you expect sometimes.”

“She gets that from you,” he says, poking your arm.

You roll your eyes fondly. “Well she had to get her brains from someone.”

He huffs but it sounds more like a laugh. You watch him look at the ground, brows furrowed and deep in thought.

“I fucked up, didn’t I?”

Here’s the thing that a lot of people don’t know about Mat: he doesn’t forgive himself easily. It’s something you learned the hard way when you were younger and dating. 

So you know he will beat himself up over this until you forgive him. 

“Yeah, but we both did.” You bump your knee against his until he looks up at you. “We can fix it, but we have to do it together.”

He holds out his pinky finger. ”Co-parenting, right?”  

You hook your finger around his and nod, letting yourself relax for the first time in weeks. It’s going to take time, hard work, and you’re both going to have to learn how to trust and communicate better again but you're sure you’ll get there.

“Together,” you agree.

tag list: @literatureluster @dasiysthings @barzyblogbabe @diary-of-jj @heatherawoowoo @fallinallincurls @topguncultleader @shadowsndaisies @lovinbarzal @whatthepuckisgoingon @alilstressyandlotdepressy @teapartydreams @keiva1000

#hockey imagines #allies writing #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fanfiction #mathew barzal imagine #mathew barzal x reader

[pepsiboyy]

idk if you take fic requests! but maybe a fic based off of Greek God by Conan Gray. like Matt or Chris pretend they don’t like yn where they’re around their sport (whatever sport, you choose!) friends. they all have a really high ego and are cocky. but there’s a tension between M/C and yn bc they used to be friends until M/C got popular but yn didn’t so now they’re not friends cuz M/C let his popularity status get to him. but they sometimes speak on the down low (M/C doesn’t wanna be seen talking to yn) they’re families are family friends which is why they’re technically forced to still talk every once in a while. but eventually the tension gets too intense, and well, M/C can’t handle it anymore and it ends up turning into a childhood friends to enemies to lovers type story 🤭 ALSO, YN STANDS HER GROUND AND DOESNT LET M/C GET HER THAT EASILY, SHES NOT JUST GONNA FALL FOR HIM INSTANTLY CUZ HE FINALLY STARTS PAYING ATTENTION TO HER!! thanks!!

GREEK GOD.

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader summary: just read the request :p warnings: cursing, mentioned of alcohol, being drunk, use of y/n lol, angst (resolved sorta) a/n: THANK U SO MUCH FOR THIS REQUEST!!! i hope it's what you were looking for, i spent a lot of time trying to make this work :") thank you so much for the request!!

i stood at the edge of the ice rink, my hands clasping together with high hopes.

i came to cheer on matt and chris, with nick seated beside me as he scrolled through instagram and snacked on some chips that he brought.

nick was my best friend, without a doubt. i told him everything. matt was one of my comfort friends. someone i didn't talk to as often as nick, but enough to where i feel fully comfortable talking to him about whatever may happen. chris, on the other hand...

chris was chris.

it was hard to describe the dynamic the two of us shared.

chris and i actually used to be closer than me and nick, or anyone, honestly.

he would pick me up when i fell, give me some of his snacks and even a sip of his pepsi if i wanted. he would reassure me when i felt low, and even put me in my place if he knew i was out of line.

before we knew it, high school rolled around. freshman year was relatively normal, sophomore year too.

junior year he started making newer friends, but he also had a different lunch period from the rest of us. i'd only really see him when matt gave me rides home.

senior year rolled around, and chris was a changed person. ever since he made it to the varsity hockey team with his new friends, he changed. he claims it's because we "grew apart" but we didn't. he goes out of his way to make me look bad in front of his friends, or even act like he has no idea who i am. it kind of made me feel stupid.

matt being on varsity with him didn't help his case at all, either.

so, when i came to watch them play, nick would sit with me and i would cheer on them both, even if chris pretended to hate me.

so, here i am. standing at the edge of the rink with nick, who was now standing beside me as we watched the two we knew and loved. matt effortlessly weaving past a defender, sending the puck flying towards chris, who sent it into the goal and made it.

the sound of skates cutting through ice was sharp in my ears, and the bright arena lights cast a glow over everyone while each and every cheer echoed in the cold air.

i remember when we all used to skate together freshman year here, the arena empty and our arms all linked together because i couldn't skate for the life of me, on matter how bad i tried.

those days felt like a lifetime ago now.

you had all grown a lot since then.

apart, apparently.

"hey, y/n, what are you doin' here?" a boy from the team questioned, skating to the glass with a cocky grin. "came to see the champ?" he asked, referring to chris.

i rolled my eyes and crossed my arms, allowing my eyes to trail elsewhere. "just here to support my friends." i mumbled.

chris glanced over, his expression neutral, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes - guilt, maybe, or recognition of the unspoken tension between them. before i could look away, he turned back to his friends, laughing at some joke i couldn't hear.

i sighed and took a seat beside nick again, letting out a soft hum as i did. the familiar sting of hurt and anger was beginning to get to me.

the memory of chris and i being inseparable, chris changing, chris making fun of me to his friends, all of it. it hurt. popularity inflated his ego, and i always refused to be an admirer in his little fan club.

after the game, i found myself lingering near the exit of the rink. i typically waited for the crowd to die and the traffic to slow down before leaving. it was too busy for me.

the locker room door swung open, and out poured the hockey team that was riding out the high of their win. chris was among them, laughing loudly and tossing his hockey stick over his shoulder. we met eyes for a moment, and his smile seemed to falter. until he leaned to a friend of his and nudged them, mumbling something to make them both laugh.

"hey, y/n!" chris called out. "didn't think you'd stick around here. still obsessed with me or what?"

i stared at chris with a deadpanned expression. "stop getting me to stroke your ego, christopher." i bit back, trying to keep my voice steady.

this shit was annoying, really.

chris's friends snickered, and he shrugged it off, turning away as if i were nothing more than an afterthought to him. "whatever. let's get out of here."

the group moved past me, their laughter seeming to echo in the hallway. i felt a lump form in my throat, but i refused to let anyone see me get upset over something to miniscule.

i knew this version of chris was a facade, but that didn't really make it hurt any less. the boy i once loved and cared for deeply was now buried under layers of arrogance and bravado, and i wasn't about to let him off the hook so easily.

the crowd began to die down, so i gathered myself and pushed out of the door, making my way towards my car.

as i walked towards the car, i saw chris again, this time with his brothers as they leaned against their minivan and talked about the game together.

for a moment, chris looked up, and our eyes met. there was a flicker of something in his gaze - regret, maybe, or a silent apology - but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

he mumbled something to his brothers before he kicked off and made his way towards me.

"need a ride home? matt can take you." his tone was casual, but strained.

i stared at chris for a moment in disbelief, before quickly shaking my head and sighing. "no thanks. i can manage."

chris opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it, looking away. the silence between us stretched, and it filled with all the things left unsaid.

and with that, i turned on my heel and began walking home.

saturday. the days where the sturniolo household invited me for dinner were so much fun, genuinely. they were an amazing family. and chris typically acted normal around her when she was invited over.

i pulled into the driveway of their home, smiling softly to myself as i turned the music down. i pulled down the mirror and fixed my hand, humming to myself before taking my keys.

i was wearing something pretty cozy, just a crewneck and some bleached jeans and converse. they were like my second family, no need to get fancy.

i knocked on the door, where matt answered and pulled me into a hug of greeting. "hi, y/n," he breathed and smiled softly before leading me further into their home, where i was met with nick, marylou, their mother, and jimmy, their father.

"where's chris?" i questioned, the words falling from my lips faster than i could stop them.

nick exchanged a look with matt before he shrugged. "not sure, he just said he was going to some hockey party for their win last night."

i scoffed and nodded, taking a seat in my usual spot between nick and marylou.

the empty chair across from me was honestly quite intimidating. more than it would have been if chris were there.

chris was always the one with crazy stories and conversation topics.

we sat in a comfortable silence, though, which i'm sure nick and matt enjoyed as they listen to chris every day of their lives.

"you're still goin' to their hockey games and cheerin' em on?"

marylou questioned, and i turned to her and smiled. "yeah, they're really great, actually." i smiled softly, and marylou nodded.

"i know chris has been on a bit of an ego train, i hope he's still been kind to you guys." jimmy mumbled softly.

i swallowed and rubbed the back of my head. "yeah, he's been great, actually." i lied.

nick and matt stared at me, but decided not to question it before continuing their meal.

but then my phone began to ring, and everyone's attention shifted to me.

"i'm so sorry," i quickly mumbled as i removed it from my pocket and immediately felt every bit of air in my lungs leave.

why is chris calling me?

i rose to my feet and held up a finger, chuckling nervously. "i'm gonna take this," i mumbled quickly.

i made my way down the hall and to the front room. "hello?" i questioned softly.

"y/n/n," chris slurred on the other end. "i- i'm at a party, and.." he trailed off before giggling to himself, "i might.. need a ride home," he mumbled.

i sighed, rubbing my temple in annoyance. "where are you?"

chris mumbled an address, hardly coherent. "can you... can you come get me? please?"

i sighed to myself. "why can't you get matt or nick or something?"

"they'll get pissed," he stated, a little clearer than the rest of his sentences. "i don't want them to worry about me." chris struggled to get the word worry out of his system, making me crack a slight smile.

"fine," i stated as i fixed myself, "stay put. i'll be there soon."

i hung up the phone and made my way back to the dining room, where everyone collectively turned to me.

"everything alright?" nick asked, and i quickly nodded.

"everything's good, i do have to go, though. i'm so sorry you guys. i'll make it up to you?" i smiled. "i just, um.. have to run."

they all exchanged looks before nodding and bidding me farewell, nick walking me out.

i sat in my car and typed the address into my phone, rubbing my forehead.

i didn't enjoy parties. they were loud, sweaty, gross and full of annoying ass kids. usually.

and as i pulled up, it was just that. a typical high school party scene - loud music, teenagers spilling out onto the lawn, and the faint smell of alcohol and weed in the air. i found chris on the footsteps, his head buried in his hands. i quickly made my way towards him after parking and kneeled down in front of him.

"come on, let's get you home." i said, helping him to his feet.

chris leaned on my heavily as we made our way to my car. i buckled him in and got into the driver's sear, the tension between us palpable in the confined space. as i drove, chris mumbled some incoherent words, his head lolling against the window.

"y/n," he suddenly said, his voice clearer but thick with emotion. "i'm sorry."

i glanced at him, eyebrows raised. "for what?"

"for everything," he continued, his eyes half-closed. "for being an ass. for ignoring you. for... for all of it."

i took a deep breath as i felt a mixture of sadness and anger bubbling within me. i gripped the steering wheel tighter, unsure of how to respond. "you're drunk, chris. you don't know what you're saying."

"no," chris insisted, reaching out and touching my arm. "i do, i've been a jerk. i miss you. i miss us."

i pulled into my own driveway, knowing chris wouldn't want to see his family like this. i would just take his phone and send them a text saying he was with a friend tonight or something.

i turned off the engine and took a deep breath. "let's get you inside."

chris stumbled out of the car, leaning on me for support the whole way to the door. i fished for my keys and unlocked the door, quickly guiding him to my living room couch.

as i laid a blanket over him, he grabbed my hand as his eyes locked with mine.

"i still care about you, y/n. i always have."

my heart pounded, but i forced a laugh, trying to deflect the intensity of the moment. "sleep it off, chris. we'll talk in the morning, okay?"

i brushed a few loose strands from his forehead and stood up, turning off the light and going to my room. my mind raced with conflicting emotions.

part of me wanted to believe his drunken confession, but another part of me was still so angry. still hurt by the way he had treated me. as i laid in bed and stared at my ceiling, i couldn't shake the feeling that things between us were far from over. and that this was just the beginning of a much more complicated story.

the sizzling of the bacon on the oven was comforting, in a way. i had an airpod in, playing some softer, but upbeat music to get me up and going for the long, long day ahead.

i turned my head upon hearing some shuffling in the kitchen, meeting eyes with chris. "morning," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"morning," i replied, placing a plate of food with bacon, eggs and sausage onto the counter in front of him. "eat up. you'll feel better."

he sat down and started eating, occasionally glancing at me as i cleaned up the kitchen. after a few minutes of awkward silence, he looked at me. "look, about last night.."

i crossed my arms and leaned against the counter. "what about it?"

chris looked down at his plate, poking at his eggs. "i meant what i said, you know. but i was drunk, and.. and maybe it didn't come out right-"

"maybe?" i questioned, my voice sharp. "you've been treating me like i don't exist for months, chris. one drunken apology doesn't fix that."

he winced at my words, but nodded. "i know, i've been an idiot. i got caught up in... everything. the team, the popularity. but that's no excuse."

"no, it's not." i stated, my anger beginning to bubble to the surface. "you think you can just waltz back into my life with a half-assed apology and everything will be fine? it doesn't work that way." i spat.

chris stood up, stepping closer. "i'm not asking for everything to be fine overnight. i'm asking for a chance to make things right."

i shook my hear, my eyes flashing with frustration. "do you even realize how much you hurt me? how it felt to be ignored, to be treated like i was nothing?"

"i do now," he said quietly. "and i'm sorry. truly. i want to make it up to you, if you'd let me."

i looked up at him, searching his eyes for any sign of insincerity. he seemed genuine, his usual bravado stripped away, leaving only the boy she used to know.

"i don't know if i can trust you," i admitted, my voice softer now.

chris reached out and took my hand in his. "i get that. and i will do whatever it takes to earn your trust back."

he pulled me into a tight hug, where i gently hugged his waist and took in his scent.

i missed this.

"just one date. give me a chance?" chris mumbled, the smile audible in his tone.

i hesitated, my mind racing. part of me wanted to say no, to protect myself from his bullshit. but another part of me remembered all of the good times.

"one date," i finally stated, my voice firm. "but this doesn't mean i'm just forgiving you, chris. you have a lot to prove."

he nodded quickly, his lips curving into a smile. "i promise i won't let you down."

i pulled away from his embrace and smiled at him before turning to the sink and doing the dishes. "you better now."

as i did the dishes, i felt a glimmer of hope mixed with lingering doubt. chris had a long way to go to earn the trust i had for him back, but for the first time in months, she felt like maybe, just maybe, things could change.

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

[ppoppokari]

Okay, I'll combine both astrology and a writing request in this fic.

Lee Know's Scorpio Venus and Virgo Mars to me indicates he has a corruption kink and would love the idea of having a inexperienced partner that he can mould into pleasing just him.

Can I please request a piece where it's the reader's first time?

Thank you xx

Bubble Pop!!!

pairing~ lee minho x fem! reader

genre~ (s)

word count~ 2.5k

synopsis~ he should have air fried the boy when he had the chance. maybe then he wouldn't have tried to hit on you. sure, hyunjin didn't know that you and minho were dating but that doesn't stop minho from taking your virginity then and there ... or the one where he illustrates your body with scratches to remind you who you belong to.

rating~ mdni 18+

featuring~ protected sex (a big sexy yes), pwp, minho and his corruption kink, loss of virginity, guided masturbation, guided pillow humping, minho has a thing for y/n's ass, dirty talk, dumbification if you really squint, minho fucks y/n on hyunjin's bed, sexy shadows and fairy lights.

a/n~ the fact that my first writing request is perfect, like thank you so much for requesting such a concept. i went insane writing this. i have been reborn. this is the most graphic thing i've written so to my new followers i'm sorry lol.

-------

Minho's lithe fingers were webbed with ecstasy as he trailed his hands up your heated skin, a sweet hum disguising his true intentions.

"Now tell me, do you have a boyfriend? With the way you were showing off in that little dress I highly doubt it." Even if it was against your better judgement you didn't know what else to do besides spread your legs further apart.

There was no way in hell that any of the guys knew you were taken, how could they when neither of you confirmed that you were dating. In there eyes you were Minho's best friend turned roommate, so why wouldn't Hyunjin shoot is shot?

Hyunjin would never fully comprehend how big a mistake it was to let his hand linger too close to your ass while he invited you over for some wine and a good time; that would only become apparent when he retired to his room to find cum-stained sheets and your perfume on his pillow.

"Min, I swear I was about to reject him, you know I would never do that to you."

Minho clicked his tongue in mockery as he snaked his hand into your underwear. Siren eyes met doe eyes as he noticed how caught off guard you were. He wanted to comfort you and say that he wouldn't break you, but that wouldn't be the entire truth. He wanted you to fall apart in his hands so that he could build you back up, most of all, he wanted you to scream out his name on Hyunjin's bed.

Even though his hand was restricted by your cotton panties he didn't make any attempt at sliding them down your leg, the cute ribbon that adorned them was his weakness.

You had expected him to pick up where he left off, fingers sliding against your tight walls, instead he came down to toy with your clit. Positioning himself to hover above you he leaned in to brush your hair to the side, coercing you with a string of kisses across your clavicle.

He had wanted to do this ever since you became his roommate. At first he thought you were his angel but it was all apart of your charm. You were kind, thoughtful and sweet but like all of the most heavenly angels you were the devil in disguise, even if you didn't realise it.

You may have been a virgin but there were moments where Minho was sure he caught you slipping. The way you would eye his bare chest after he had a shower, the way you were in awe whenever a sex scene came on tv-he could only hope that you were imagining his touch.

But the thing that truly broke him was the many times you would walk around your apartment wearing nothing but a t-shirt and panties, not to mention that you always seemed to prefer his shirts over your own. The slight bruises littering his lower lip were a reminder of the times he bit his lip so hard that a speck of blood started to pool, your virginity remained intact while his sanity quickly went down the drain.

A harsh blush coated your cheeks as his member hardened beneath you making the rough denim scratch harder against your thigh. "I didn't know you felt this way." Minho didn't look up at you this time, far too preoccupied with your breasts and the fact he could see your hardened peaks through your bra. "I feel a lot of ways about you, I want to do so much to you jagiya." For a split second you caught his dark orbs before they fell behind his dark bangs. The look in his eyes was unlike anything you had ever seen before, it was full desperation.

Your head fell back, a silent beckon for him to continue exploring your body. "Little y/n always making my life so difficult, keep panting like that and you'll make me cum."

His taunting was the encouragement you needed to buck your hips into him, whining at the pressure on your clit. Minho's fingers froze in place depriving you of your release. Gripping his upper arm you pushed yourself against him, assuming his nerves got the best of him. "Minho that felt so good I want you to keep going." Minho chuckled at your neediness, responding with words dripping in sin.

"But I don't want to be bad, not yet, so how about we play a game? I want to see what experience you have, I have a feeling you know how to put on a show."

Minho approached Hyunjin's pink velvet office chair and wheeled it to the centre of the room, sitting down he leaned back to cross his legs. He took in the sight before him, you half naked, head resting on a soft pillow as the fairy lights danced across your skin.

"Open your legs sweet thing I want to see all of you."

You parted your legs, displaying the wet patch that started to form. Minho sat in awe at the way your arousal was dripping onto the sheets beneath you, luckily his dark jeans hid the fact that he had made a mess of his own.

Even though he was fighting against his own lust he grinned at you and clicked his tongue in faux mockery. "I bet you taste so good." Minho smirked as he noticed more slick trail down your leg at his words. "Well if that's the case I think you could do without your cute underwear, take them off. They're no use tonight anyways."

You already felt exposed however, you hung on to each of his words as you removed the soaked material. For a split second you thought of throwing them at him, a silent cry for him to hurry up and fuck you. But instead you tossed them to the side, awaiting his directions.

"I want to get this over and done with so be a good girl and listen to me, you can do that for me right y/n?" You nod, ever so obedient for your boyfriend.

"Open your legs a bit wider I want to see all of you." You brought your hands up to your face, hiding your ferocious blush. "Don't hide, there's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"How about we start simple, use one of your hands to tease your entrance." Bringing a hand down you traced your folds, wincing when your fingers nudged your clit. "You're doing so well y/n, now finger yourself, remember how I shoved my hands down your pants earlier, I want to see you recreate it." You clenched your eyes shut, trying to remember the way his fingers rubbed against the walls of your aching cunt. Using one hand to spread your folds you inserted a finger, confused as to why you were still so tight. It wasn't long before you worked your way up two fingers, you were about to add a third before Minho interjected. "Grab that pillow, it's time for part two of our lesson." Getting onto your knees you reached for the closest pillow, getting a sample of Hyunjin's cologne. You brought it in front of you, awaiting his next order. Part of you knew what he wanted from you but there was no way he would ask you to do that, surely.

"What are you waiting for, don't be shy."

Somehow, for someone so unfamiliar with this you liked being so exposed to him. It was as if he was seeing more than your naked body, he saw the side of you that was begging for his touch since day one.

Straddling the pillow you arched your back at the sensation of the cool fabric against your heated skin, the embroidered patterning of the pillow barely brushed against your clit.

"That feels good doesn't it?" Nodding in response you moved forward, but that wasn't enough. No matter how much you moved your hips back and forth the jolt of pleasure barely revealed itself. "Min- this isn't enough, I need you." "No you don't." "I want you, I need to cum please." "You can have me after you cum."

Despite his harsh words his tone was the most gentle it had been that entire night. "I will always be here to please you but I know you can do it. Try rolling your hips towards me. The wave of pleasure that over took you after more desperate rutting was intense, something in your lower stomach snapped as your shaking arms gave out, your legs were barely holding you up as you gripped onto the sheets beneath you. You couldn't even comprehend the string of curse words you shouted, you were barely there.

Letting you catch your breath Minho pulled a condom out from his back pocket and sat near your side, his hand resting on the your back. "You did so well y/n." Pulling the pillow away from you he waited for you to finish coming down from your high.

"You're all fucked out, do you still want me? We can do this another night." Even if he sounded so gentle it felt like he was mocking you, there was no way you would give up on having sex with him tonight.

"I'm not going home until you fuck me Minho."

Minho walked you to the end of Hyunjin's bed "Bend over." Once you had done so Minho's hands trailed up your sides and stopped at your hands. Treating you as if you were his own personal doll he gripped your hands and brought them up urging you to grip onto the beams of the canopy bed. Minho tore the foil packet open, rolling the condom on.

"I'll try and be gentle jagiya, but if it's too much I'll stop as soon as you say vanilla." Minho kissed your neck anticipating the way that you would arch your back, he was already far too familiar with your body. "Just focus on the lights and relax." Looking straight ahead you ignored the twinkling fairly lights, instead becoming fixated by the shadowed silhouette of you and Minho that was cast onto the wall.

His cock prodding against your entrance made you wince. While you were trying to compose yourself yet again Minho entered you without warning, you couldn't prevent the gasp that escaped your lips. Minho pulled you in closer pushing himself deeper, your walls clenched around him, he just hoped you could feel each vein and curve through the condom. He wanted you to remember each part of him, you didn't need anyone else, he was the only one who could bring you this much pleasure, not Hyunjin.

"M-Minho." Your chest was heaving as you tried your best to relax, despite how foreign this feeling was. There was no way you wanted him to stop, you were a big girl, you could handle it.

"Y/n I hope you know that you're mine, no one else gets this sweet pussy."

If you weren't clinging to the bed your hands would be holding onto his hips, begging him to go faster, but all you had was a shaky voice that told Minho that you were about to start sobbing if he didn't fuck you like he meant it.

"Y/n you better stop me now I won't be able to control myself." Your eyes were glistening with tears as you answered him "I don't want you to control yourself, I'm yours Minho, take me." Lust was clouding your senses, you weren't even fully aware of how needy you sounded, just seeing his form through a shadowed figure cast on the wall wasn't enough. You needed to see him like this every damn day.

Minho pulled out slightly before thrusting back into you, he was telling the truth, he wasn't planning on holding back. His pace was quick and the sound of skin on skin turned you on even more, there was something so raw and passionate, it was strange but this had to be what love felt like.

"Minho, I think I'm close." "Already? But I was just getting started." "It just feels so good, I don't think I can hold it," Before your boyfriend could make you cum for the first time he stopped, much to your dismay. "Minho not now, I'm sorry I was playing with Hyunjin please, I want to cum!" Placing a kiss on your cheek Minho slapped your ass, immediately rubbing the red mark. It was hard to tell where the shadows cast by the lights started and where the faint bruises on your hips ended.

"Stop being dramatic y/n, stand up." You turned around to face Minho, even in the dim lighting you could see his eyes sparkling for you. Minho cupped your face in his hands, holding you so that he could gift you with a heated kiss. He pulled away, a string of saliva still connecting the two of you.

"I think you can put all that practice to good use." Letting go of you Minho removed his shirt, finally getting to his jeans he removed them and reclined back onto the bed.

Wasting no time you straddled him, sighing as he pushed inside of you. Instead of being tight and awkward your body invited him in. Parting your legs further you rolled your hips into him, repeating everything that you had done to defile that pillow. Minho gripped onto your hips yet again, but this time he traced over the bruises as he kissed you like his life depended on it.

The way you were rolling your hips just the way he had liked it, the way you were begging him for more. He knew he had something that the others could only dream of. Angling his hips fucked into you hard, his moans becoming one with the creaking of the bed.

He met a spot in the deepest part of your body, brushing against it, once or twice or was it three times? You had no idea but the way his tip brushed against you sent you straight to your own personal heaven. "Minho, I'm going to cum again, make me cum, I want it so bad." The way you had fallen apart on top of him was everything he had ever dreamt of, there was no way you were going to find a better fuck. Not even Hyunjin would make you feel like this.

Your walls clenching around him was enough to drive him over the edge, pulling out of you Minho came on your lower stomach.

The white streaks on your abdomen and the dazed look you wore was heaven, even though he felt like he committed the sin of ruining his angel. Pulling into his arms Minho kissed your cheek, allowing you to rest your head on his chest. It hadn't taken long for sleep to overtake you, cuddling into Minho you were too far away to even acknowledge the desperate, loving words he whispered to you, ones laced in sin. Even if that was the case you were conscious enough to know the gravity of the entire situation. There was no way you were getting over Lee Minho.

----

all rights reserved to ppoppokari

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids hard hours #skz hard hours #skz hard thoughts #lee minho smut #lee know smut #minho smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #lee minho x reader #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #skz imagines #stray kids one shots #skz oneshots #minho x fem reader #lee minho x fem reader #mdni #minors dni

[doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou]

Leave

What Does It Mean (Part One)

> lady lesso x fem!reader

> requested? yes! by @1ntr0v3rt3dsna1l

> content/warnings: R starts the chess match, L is annoyed, D is annoying, E is forever the neutral baby in this fics

> a/n: i just wish Lesso would finally catch on what's happening, i want to see her win this chess match between her and R lol (talking as if i'm not the author)

request prompt: Y/N is an Ever (and, of course, a reader) from the modern world (where we live, baby!). Y/N had already read the books of School for Good and Evil and is well aware of everything about it in general. Lady Lesso slowly harbored a crush on Y/N, and despite being opposites, they became close friends. Lady Lesso found out that Y/N is her soulmate, but Lesso keeps denying it. Y/N knew Lady Lesso so well, so she wasn't shocked or surprised (because, after all, the books). Then, Y/N eventually gave up on trying to bridge their relationship... And left after the Rafal thing?

As the school year comes near to a start, Dovey becomes increasingly bothersome, at least according to Lesso. The Dean of Good appears to annoy Lesso every chance she gets. This includes various types of meetings, whether they are staff or private ones, as well as encounters in the hallway of the School for Good.

“Give it a week, and I’m sure Lesso will just implode,” one of the teachers muttered. You, of course, the ever-eavesdropper that you are, leaned in and replied. “Can you tell me why?”

The Never teacher raised an eyebrow but shrugged. “Dovey has been getting on Lesso’s nerves lately. She’s been constantly trailing behind Lesso to ‘discuss’ the plans for the start of the year.” This had you pursing your lips. You didn’t like the term ‘trailing behind’ and, of course, you couldn’t comprehend what kind of ‘discussion’ Dovey was apparently annoying Lesso about. However, one thing was clear: you didn't like it at all.

“Pinch me.” You whispered to the teacher beside you, wherein she gave you a look that said, ‘Are you crazy?’

Rolling your eyes, you stomped on Uma’s foot, making her slap you on the arm quite harshly. This made you wince, but it didn’t matter to you. Because the moment you winced, Lady Lesso winced with you.

Aha! Got you.

Emma, who was on your front, raised an eyebrow at the voice she heard. Shrugging, Emma ignored the voice, yet it didn’t stop talking. Soulmates, huh? Who would’ve thought? An Ever and a Never? Oh, Storian, get ready, because I’ll be visiting you after this.

As the voice continued speaking, Emma’s eyes widened at each word that was leaving the mind of the owner. With every minute passing, the voice became familiar to her. Then it dawned on her that the voice belonged to you. It was you who was talking about your soulmate. And from the looks of it, Dovey’s plan has started, and you were making the first move.

-

Once the meeting ended and you were on your way to your designated classrooms, a hand grabbed your arm and pulled you towards a broom cupboard.

“Who were you talking about earlier?” The owner of the voice flicked her fingers, and the light went on. Revealing a smirking Emma in front of you. Feeling your blush from yesterday come back, you rolled your eyes and huffed.

“Talking? I didn’t even open my mouth at the meeting, Emma.” You feigned ignorance and cursed yourself for not putting up a barrier for your thoughts. The Storian will surely either tease or scold you for this.

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N.” Emma leaned towards you and pursed her lips. “I heard you.”

Leaning against the wall to add a little bit of distance between the two of you, you sighed and bit your lower lip. “Fine! Fine! I was talking about Lady Lesso earlier.” You couldn’t bear to lie about this. But in reality, you just didn’t have the backbone to lie to someone who genuinely likes you.

“Oh, this is perfect!”

Frowning, you gave Emma a questioning look and asked. “Perfect in what way?”

Giving you a pat on the shoulder, Emma grins and opens the door for you to leave. “Go on, shoo.” She then pushed you out of the cupboard and slammed it shut.

Looking around you to see if anyone saw what happened, you shrugged and left while muttering, "Gods, people here aren’t worth the hassle to get my happy ever after.”

-

“Lesso, just one word. Describe the new teacher!” Dovey slipped her cane to stop the door from slamming in her face. “Come on, this isn’t that hard to do!”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Lesso sat on her chair behind her desk and gave Dovey a glare. “Why do you even care what I think of her?”

Although she knew that Lesso’s words were a trap, Dovey thought of her next words to say. Because who’s to say that Lesso hasn’t caught up on what she and Emma have been working on for the entire summer break. So, she thought hard about her reply. “Nothing.”

Groaning at her counterpart, Lesso pursed her lips to not scream at Dovey. “If it’s nothing, then get out of my office.” She flicked her hand and opened the door for Dovey. And when Dovey didn’t make a move to leave, Lesso whistled, calling the air to escort Dovey out of her office. Yet, before Dovey could be sent outside, the dean of Good shouted. “If you don’t answer, I will be annoying you about this for the whole year!”

Snapping her fingers, the onslaught against Dovey stopped. “Fine! Fine!” Lesso rolled her eyes and thought for about a minute before answering.

“The word is ‘bearable’. Now, leave!” This time, Dovey accepted the slamming door in her face with the biggest grin she could muster.

Bearable, huh?

“I can still hear your thoughts, Clarissa! Leave!”

#leonora lesso x reader #lady lesso x reader #school for good and evil #dean of evil #clarissa dovey #emma anemone #professor anemone

[tafeekafee]

Hello! I just discovered your page, so excited to see more Ateez sick fics! Could I request a fic where Seonghwa has a really bad fever? And he gets really dizzy, maybe even fainting. Thank you <3

⌛⭐Passion Young Fever

Sickie: Seonghwa

Caretaker: Hongjoong (+ Yunho)

Seonghwa just wanted to sleep. He didn’t think it was such an unreasonable wish. They have had a couple of strenuous weeks and he really had looked forward to a full night of rest. 

Sadly, his members didn’t seem to get the memo. 

Seonghwa had taken a shower after dinner, put on his pajamas and about twenty minutes ago he finally had made himself comfortable under his bed covers in the room he shared with Hongjoong. That, for some reason, hadn’t been enough of a neon sign apparently.

Already Wooyoung had wandered in, looking for his favorite pajamas of all things. Yes, they were in the wash. No, Seonghwa couldn’t have done that earlier. The suggestion to do his own laundry also wasn’t appreciated. Spoiled.

Just as he had convinced Wooyoung that his other sleep clothes were just as nice and comfy as the missing pair, Yunho came looking for somebody to play a game with him. No, Seonghwa did not want to play LoL or whatever the younger one wanted. No, not even animal crossing. Pouting, Yunho had left. Seonghwa would make it up to him some other time.

Right now: Sleep.

Seonghwa barely resisted the urge to scream when Hongjoong came into the room, loudly talking on his phone. 

“Oh, you’re here”, Hongjoong said. Why did he sound so surprised? It was their shared room. Seonghwa was here more often than Hongjoong himself was.

“Yes, I am here and I very much would like to sleep”, Seonghwa hissed through clenched teeth.

“Jeez, who rained on your parade?”, Hongjoong groaned, raising his eyebrows, “no, I’m talking to Hwa, eomma, not you. Yes, I know I live with them - that’s exactly why I am talking to Seonghwa when I am on the phone with you - he also lives here. Yes, I’ll tell him ‘hi’. Eomma says ‘hi’, if you haven’t figured that out yet.”

“Can’t you just talk somewhere else?”, Seonghwa asked, ready to throw hands if Hongjoong didn’t get the memo to leave him alone soon. 

“Yeah, fine”, Hongjoong muttered and rolled his eyes, “can’t get peace anywhere here.”

Funny.

At least he left.

At last - silence.

Still, Seonghwa couldn’t sleep. Now, buried under the blankets he was too hot. Everything felt stuffy. But when he kicked the blankets off he started to shiver.

Great.

Today was just not his day, huh.

⌛

About an hour later Hongjoong came back into the room and nice as he was, he didn’t even turn on the lights even though Seonghwa knew he would - like always - stub his toe on the ladder up to his bunk in three, two …

“You can turn on the light, you know”, Seonghwa said, resigned. 

Hongjoong jumped, cursing in shock, and ended up stubbing his toe on the desk chair instead, howling in pain. Sometimes Seonghwa was amazed by just how clumsy a person could be. It wasn’t like the chair was new.

“Christ, you scared me”, Hongjoong muttered but after a moment of fumbling he did turn on the lights.

“You can call me Seonghwa”, Seonghwa said, a bit amused, “I don’t feel very much like a messiah. Tired, yes, but holy? No.”

“I hate your humor sometimes”, Hongjoong replied, shaking his head. He leaned against the desk to look down at Seonghwa. “I thought you wanted to sleep like three days ago.”

“I can’t sleep”, the eldest whined, “and do you know what is even worse? I have the line “I can’t sleep” from The Rose’s Insomnia stuck in my head. It’s mocking me.”

“Poor you”, the captain chuckled. Then he turned more serious. “What’s up?”

“I don’t know”, Seonghwa mumbled, suddenly close to tears, “I just feel too warm with the blankets but I’m freezing without them. I’m so tired my thoughts barely make any sense and I can’t get com … what are you doing?”

He interrupted himself as Hongjoong laid a hand on his forehead, moving from his position by the desk to sit on the bed by the elder’s hip.

“Did you know that you are running a fever?”, he asked worriedly.

“I … what? No?”, Seonghwa replied, confused. His head pounded in his skull.

“You’re feeling really warm, Hwa”, Hongjoong explained patiently, stroking back the disgusting, sweaty hair, “you’re pale except for the lovely blush on your cheeks that some noonas might kill for and I’ve never seen you this emotional except when you’re sick.”

Seonghwa had to admit it made sense.

“Great, just great”, he muttered.

“Let me get you some fever reducers and some water”, Hongjoong said, standing up, “no use in suffering.”

Seonghwa nodded but before the captain was able to leave his reach, he grasped his wrist. “Can you get me something for my headache, too?” Seonghwa hated taking medication with a passion but if they got him to sleep? Great!

“Of course.” Hongjoong smiled softly and left.

⌛

Five minutes later he returned, carrying a water bottle, medication bottles and a fever thermometer. When he noticed Seonghwa looking at in dismay, he shrugged. “Better safe than sorry. Besides, we should keep track of it in case it gets worse.”

“Fair enough”, Seonghwa muttered and shoved the device under his tongue. 

As it beeped they both peered at the reading in vague interest. 38.1°C. Could have been better. Could have been worse.

“Take the pills and try to sleep”, Hongjoong advised, “maybe you’ll feel better by morning.”

⌛

To both of their surprise, Seonghwa did feel better in the morning. Much better. The medication had knocked him right out and he had still managed a solid eight hours of sleep before Hongjoong’s obnoxious alarm went off.

“37.7°C”, Hongjoong read out the numbers, “that’s nearly half a degree down.” The captain had practically shoved the device in Seonghwa’s mouth the moment he had come down the ladder of the bunk. 

“That’s not even a fever anymore”, Seonghwa agreed, “and I feel good. Maybe my body just wanted me to rest.”

“Maybe it did. Take it easy for today, okay? We don’t want that back”, Hongjoong said.

“I will. Just don’t tell the dongsaengs and the managers? I don’t want them to worry”, Seonghwa requested, “maybe it was just a one time thing.”

Hesitantly, Hongjoong nodded. “Alright, just tell me if you feel bad again.”

⌛

Seonghwa must have jinxed himself. There was no other explanation why he was fine the whole morning but the later the hour the worse he felt. No, not bad - just worse than normal. No need to inform Hongjoong.

A six hour dance practice was awful on a normal day. Maybe that was it. Dancing was always hard. After just one hour the mirrors in the practice room were so fogged up by humidity that Wooyoung and Jongho - Seonghwa had no idea where the maknaes got the energy or the ideas from - started painting with their fingers on them during a short break. He blinked. Were they really playing TicTacToe? Unbelievable. 

Hongjoong had seen them too and stalked over to them to tell them off. Mingi and Yunho were talking with the choreographer and San was sprawled over an unhappy Yeosang. Well, the older looked unhappy - Seonghwa doubted he actually was. He would have shoved San off if he truly was.

Seonghwa himself had sat down by the couch, trying to rehydrate. He was sweating buckets already, his body feeling more like he had just taken a swim than danced for a rather short time considering he was an idol. Ah, nevermind. 

He would be fine.

⌛

Hour four and Seonghwa was doubting it.

Every runthrough was getting harder to manage. His muscles burned. His chest heaved from the effort. He could barely catch his breath. His vision was a bit blurry. He felt light and heavy at the same time.

And to his embarrassment he was making the stupidest mistakes. Already he had tripped over Yunho twice. The other seemed to take it in good humor at least.

“You’re worse than Hongjoong-hyung, today”, he teased as he stopped Seonghwa from falling over him the third time.

“Sorry, Yunho-yah”, Seonghwa apologized, staring down at his feet. Interestingly enough the floor seemed to move a bit so he looked up at the others.

“Aish, Yunho, respect your elders”, Hongjoong admonished in good humor, “not everybody can have your dancer’s grace.”

“Yeah, but nobody else nearly gets himself knocked out every game we play, hyung”, Yunho countered.

“That last one was your fault! You literally hit me”, Hongjoong complained, sulking.

“You walked where my fist was, that’s not my fault.” Yunho shrugged.

That’s when Wooyoung decided he wanted to annoy Hongjoong too. “Yunho-hyung”, he said sweetly, “leave Hongjoong-hyung alone. You should pick on somebody your own size.” He barely managed to finish the sentence before he started to wheeze with laughter. The rest of the team - bar Seonghwa and Hongjoong, obviously - joined in.

Seonghwa groaned. He did not want to referee anything today. Besides, couldn’t they just go on with practice?

His savior came at the right time. 

“Maybe we should just go on?”, San, of all people, suggested, nodding a bit in the direction of the choreographer who was watching them with amusement in her eyes.

Seonghwa agreed quickly. He really just wanted to be done with practice today, desperate to go home and shower. He really felt disgusting. Also, he could do without the swirling.

⌛

Hour five and Seonghwa was seriously considering asking to just sit out for the rest of practice. Tiredness clung to his body, making it hard to move. His vision wasn’t really doing him any favors of showing him where he was. He was tired and exhausted and he was starting to feel a bit nauseous. His water bottle had been empty for some time but he never had found the strength to get up and refill it at the fountain. 

The few precious breaks were spent on the ground just trying to catch his breath.

“How are you feeling?”, Hongjoong asked, coming over to him and holding out a water bottle, “I can see how tired you are and it’s not like you to make these kinds of mistakes.”

“I’m okay. It’s just exhausting. It’s been an exhausting month.” Seonghwa waved him off.

“And yet you are the only one looking like death warmed over. Be honest with me, Seonghwa. Can you continue? If not, tomorrow is another day. No need to dance with a fever.” Hongjoong’s voice was quiet but it held a warning edge.

“I can do it”, Soenghwa said and pushed himself to his feet. He nearly fell as everything started to swirl but he was able to stay upright. Hongjoong looked at him with an unimpressed expression and handed him the water bottle.

“At least drink something.”

⌛

Hour six and they were done. Hallelujah.

Seonghwa had never been so close to crying at seeing the apartment door. He was finally able to relax in the near future.

“First shower, kawibawibo!”, Wooyoung shouted in Seonghwa’s ear and he nearly fell over in shock. He had not noticed the younger creep up beside him. 

“Not tonight, Young-ah”, Hongjoong said quietly, opening the door for all of them, “Seonghwa gets to shower first.”

“What, why?”

Seonghwa gave the captain a hard stare as he turned around. There was no need to tell the kids. But Hongjoong just winked. “Because I say so. Besides, he never gets the first shower because he cooks for us. I’m ordering take-out, so Seonghwa can have the first shower for once.”

“Thanks, Joong-ah”, Seonghwa said, appreciating the captain more than ever. 

He quickly got himself ready and stepped under the amazing warmth. It soothed his muscles and he was starting to get really sleepy. 

That was when the dizziness really hit.

Seonghwa, especially being a hyung, should have known better. Nothing good came out of taking a hot shower when already dizzy and feverish. Yes, he had no illusions about that - he had been running a temperature all afternoon, he was sure of it. But the hot water felt good until it didn’t.

Quickly he shut the water off and stepped outside to dry himself off. The heat of the shower was misty in the bathroom air. Seonghwa forwent any skincare and hair product routines in favor of just putting on his clothes and fleeing the oppressive heat. 

Once outside in the hallway he managed to take a deep breath of colder air. Already he was sweating again and the shower was slowly becoming useless. Even worse, the dizziness didn’t stop. The hallway was swirling in front of his eyes and he felt himself tilt to the side.

⌛

“Hyung?”, a loud voice called and somebody was tapping his cheek. Annoyed, Seonghwa groaned and tried to slap the hand away. Instead whoever it was caught his hand in theirs and held on tight.

Slowly Seonghwa blinked open his eyes to stare into the wide-eyed gaze of Jongho, who looked like he had a halo around his head. Another blink and Seonghwa realized that it was just the overhead lights that made the maknae shine. 

“Wha’ happ’n’?”, he slurred, his tongue uncooperative in his mouth. 

Jongho moved a bit away and Seonghwa was able to see that he was laying in the middle of the hallway, his members surrounding him. Hongjoong and Yunho were kneeling next to the maknae. Yeosang and Woyooung were cuddled up in San’s arms somewhere by Seonghwa’s feet. Mingi was nowhere to be seen.

“You fainted when you came out of the shower”, Hongjoong explained, his voice a bit shaky, “you are lucky Yeosang managed to catch you.”

“Oh, uh, thank you?”, Seonghwa mumbled and tried to sit up. Yunho pressed his hand to his chest to keep him from getting up. 

“No, stay down for a moment, Hwa-hyung”, he said concerned, “you just fainted, we don’t need that again. Let’s wait until Mingi returns with the manager.”

“In the meantime, let’s take your temperature again”, Hongjoong added and suddenly Seonghwa had the familiar but unwelcome metallic taste in his mouth. He mustered up a glare but from the way Yunho cooed he probably didn’t succeed.

“39.5°C”, Hongjoong whispered, his voice sounding a bit wet, “Seonghwa, you absolute idiot! Why didn’t you say anything? You promised you would tell me if you didn’t feel good.” The captain wiped at his eyes, refusing to let the tears he was obviously suppressing fall.

“I didn’t feel that bad then”, Seonghwa mumbled. He hated burdening his best friend with his issues. Hongjoong already had so much on his plate with his captain duties, the dongsaengs and producing. Seonghwa hadn’t wanted to be another strain pulling on him. Besides, he truly hadn’t felt so bad.

“How do you feel now?”, Jongho asked carefully. 

For a moment Seonghwa just lazily watched Yunho place a comforting hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder to calm down the agitated leader. Then the question hit him.

His head was hurting badly and everything felt heavy. Even thinking was hard. 

“Like I’m stuck in a bog”, Seonghwa settled on. It must have made more sense in his head, seeing the confused faces of his members.

Luckily that was when Mingi arrived with a manager in tow.

“Running a fever of 39.5°C and he passed out after his shower. He isn’t really making much sense”, Hongjoong said before the manager even had the chance to ask.

“I’m good”, Seonghwa groaned, ignoring the huffs from the youngers. 

“Hm, I’m sure of that”, the manager placated. Seonghwa pouted. He didn’t want to be treated like a child. At least not like a petulant, whining child. Some cuddles could be acceptable.

“Can I just go to bed and sleep this off?”, he asked impatiently. The manger felt his forehead, then stroked back his hair.

“I think so. I really want to avoid a hospital visit. Let Yunho-yah and Mingi-yah help you to bed and we’ll get you some medication. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight and if you start getting worse I’ll take you. Hongjoong-ah can keep an eye on you.”

“Okay”, Seonghwa agreed. Yunho and Mingi knelt down next to him and wrapped his arms around their shoulders. Then they stood up.

Oh God. Everything was tilting, swirling, moving, falling at the same time. Seonghwa’s knees buckled beneath him and only the quick reflexes of Yunho, who barely managed to grab him in a better hold, had him stay on his feet. 

“Down”, the dancer commanded and Seonghwa found himself back on the ground. The manager tapped his cheek again. This time Seonghwa was too focused on not puking everywhere to do anything about the annoying hands. It felt like he was losing his balance even while laying on his back. It was disorienting to say the least so he closed his eyes, clutching the hand holding his own.

⌛

When Seonghwa was able to open his eyes again the hallway was much emptier. Only the manager, Hongjoong and Yunho were kneeling beside him. 

“Hey, you with us?”, Hongjoong asked worriedly, biting his lip. It was his hand in Seonghwa’s that had kept him grounded. But Seonghwa knew it was comforting the captain as much as it was comforting him. He gently squeezed it, 

“Yeah, I just got dizzy”, Seonghwa mumbled.

“No kidding”, the manager agreed. “Do you think you can sit up? Laying down to standing apparently wasn’t the best idea.”

Seonghwa nodded, pleased that the vertigo wasn’t as bad as it was before. Gently he was lifted to lean against Yunho’s strong chest. Comfy.

“Drink and take the pills”, manager-hyung said, holding out a bottle. “You’re surely dehydrated.”

Hongjoong opened the bottle for him and helped Seonghwa drink as his hand was shaking too badly to hold the bottle himself.

“Where are the kids?”, Seonghwa asked after he had drunk about half. He hadn’t even noticed how thirsty he was. But now that the need was quelled he was starting to get tired. 

The manager smiled at him. “We sent them to the living room. They are really worried about you but we figured you might enjoy some privacy.” Seonghwa nodded, thankful. He had felt a bit like an animal trapped in a zoo with everybody staring at him.

“Can you eat a cereal bar?”, Hongjoong asked, holding out an already unwrapped bar. Seonghwa’s favorite. He wasn’t necessarily hungry but he knew it was Hongjoong’s way of helping him. Also, some sugar might do him some good.

He slowly nibbled on the bar, taking the pills between bites with sips of water.

“I want to sleep”, he mumbled, once he was finished. It was so hard to keep his eyes open. 

“Of course”, Yunho said and Seonghwa felt himself lifted to his chest. It was a bit nauseating but the prospect of getting to bed overruled every other feeling.

It was as if he had blinked and then he found himself tucked under warm covers. Hongjoong was sitting at his side in a repeat of the day before. Gently he stroked Seonghwa’s hair back.

“You have tomorrow, and the day after, off. Sleep.”

And sleep Seonghwa did. 

⌛

If he woke up in the middle of the night to find a Hongjoong-sized teddy bear by his side he didn’t complain. 

Complain he did when he wasn’t allowed out of bed the next day, his dongsaengs fussing over him. 

But he loved them too much to be very annoyed and he knew their worry also came from love, so he didn’t really mind.

#kpop #kpop sick #kpop sickfic #ateez sickfic #ateez #sickfic #seonghwa #seonghwa sickie #hongjoong caretaker #⌛ #request fill #request answer #🧚🏻‍♀️ #⭐

[2knightt]

Hey love sorry to bother but I had an idea for a fic and I’m like DYING for someone to write it

So basically reader is Johnny’s gf and he takes her to meet the gang but they don’t really like her cause she’s a soc so they kick her out and tell Johnny that he should be w her ikr smth but THEN they find reader crying at the park when another soc comes hitting on her but she’s all like NO I HAVE A BF and then the gang realises she actually loves Johnny

SORRY I GOT SO CARRIED AWAY

it’s kinda specific so no worries if you don’t wanna do it ❤️

↳hit the road, jack!₊˚✧

➬ johnny cade x soc!reader

a/n; i swear im done with the shit posting lol back on the grind frlz. i didnt proofread this…lolz.

“i’m so nervous johnny, i-i can’t do it! what if they don’t like me?”

you said— half shouting, half asking.

johnny chuckled, obviously nervous.

he, himself, didn’t even know if they’d like you.

you were a soc, and the gang holds so many grudges against soc’s, johnny can’t even count em on his own two hands.

“they’ll love you, i swear.”

he said, grabbing your hands while giving you a reassuring smile.

you took a deep breath in and then a deep breath out as johnny knocked on the curtis door.

a big, tall, scary looking guy answered the door.

he looked you up and down, and you could just tell he didn’t like you.

but nonetheless, he welcomed you in.

he shook your hand, where he told you his name was darry.

lovely name, you thought as you walked in.

6 intimating dudes sat in the living room, staring at you as you walked in.

the tension was so thick you could cut it with the knife.

you thought you’d try to lift the mood by giving an awkward smile and a wave.

but that only seemed to thicken the tension.

“who’s this?”

“my uh—my girlfriend.”

johnny answered the dark haired boy, he appeared to be dallas winston—the grease everyone knew about.

“mh.”

he said back, turning his head to face the other direction.

johnny awkwardly chuckled and leaned into your ear.

he started pointing at each and every boy sitting there, telling you their names.

the smaller one was ponyboy—odd name, but who are you to judge?

sodapop—another weird name…are they all like this? you wondered.

two-bit, apparently it’s just a nickname.

steve and dallas.

you didn’t need to hear their names to know they don’t want you here.

steve got up and asked for johnny in the kitchen.

when your boyfriend left, you swear you could’ve heard a grain of sand drop.

darry, the nicest one out of them all to you so far, tried to ask you questions about yourself.

“so, what’s your name?”

“y/n. it’s uh—lovely to meet you!”

“likewise.”

and from then on, it was silent again.

you heard steve and johnny talking in the kitchen, it was hard to be quiet in a dead silent house.

“a soc, johnny? a goddamn soc?”

“yeah? so what?”

“have you forgotten what they did to you? or ANY of us?”

the gang smiled at the sentence—almost like they were proud of their friend for putting you down.

“no, of course i haven’t! but she wasn’t apart of that—she’s my girlfriend. not those soc’s that kicked the tar out of us!”

“well she might as well be. she looks the part—what if it’s a prank, johnny? ever thought of that?”

you heard steve ask johnny.

you wanted to cry, cry, cry.

your relationship was a joke to them and they hated you.

your tears started to get watery the more you thought about it.

“i uh, i gotta go. ‘m sorry—gotta go finish something. tell johnny i said bye.”

you announced, rushing out of the house.

the second you stepped out, the tears started to stream down your cheeks.

you started to run to the empty lot, you knew nobody goes there. it’d be safe, right?

well, that’s what you thought.

a bunch of greasers were already there and you didn’t want to humiliate yourself more, so you walked faster past the lot.

you sat in at a park bench near your house.

you always went there when you had nowhere else to go.

you couldn’t go home crying, your father would kill johnny. even if it wasn’t his fault.

“y/n? are you okay?”

you heard a voice ask.

you looked up and saw your friend who you haven’t spoken to in a long time.

“micheal? oh shi—i’m sorry.”

“no-no, it’s fine. what’s wrong?”

he asked, sitting beside you and placing a hand on your lower back for comfort.

“my boyfriend’s friends don’t like me, micheal! he said they’re like his family—so it ain’t never gonna work out!”

“well—i’m always here. i always thought you were a cute gal, ya know?”

your eyes went wide.

huh?

“what?”

you heard several footsteps but you pushed that detail aside to put your full attention on the situation at hand.

“i mean, if you were to end things..i AM right here. always liked you, ya know?”

“i still have a boyfriend, micheal. just because we hit a rough patch doesn’t mean we broke up.”

you spoke, your eyebrows furrowed.

what the hell was he on?

“are you INSANE, micheal?! ugh! and here i thought i could get some comfort from a FRIEND!”

you shouted, standing up and walking away.

you heard micheal kiss his teeth as you walked away.

you heard a pair of feet rush after you and you just prayed it wasn’t micheal.

“never thought i’d see you shout at someone like that, y/n!”

you heard johnny say from your left side as he caught up to you.

“johnny?! what’re you doin’? ain’t you supposed to be with your friends?”

“that’s actually why i’m HERE.”

he answered, exaggerating the last part while looking behind the two of you.

that only caused you to look behind yourself, to see your boyfriend’s friends—looking guilty.

everyone stopped walking. the gang exchanged awkward looks as everyone stood there.

“well?”

you heard your boyfriend ask the gang, with a little bit of sass in his voice.

the gang felt terrible.

they thought you were just playing a cruel prank on johnny—they just wanted to protect him.

when johnny heard that you left, he exploded on everyone.

he shouted about how if they treated you nicer, you wouldn’t have left. how if they would push their grudges away, you wouldn’t have thought johnny was a bitch.

they didn’t want to apologize, but they wanted johnny to be happy.

they still thought it was a prank until they seen you push an attractive soc away.

“we’re uh, we’re sorry y/n.”

“yeah, but you gotta understand—”

steve said, trying to defend himself until johnny interrupted him.

“she ain’t gon’ understand NOTHIN’! just tell her you’re sorry and that you’ll give ‘er a chance!”

they all sighed—with even more guilty looks.

they each apologized, one by one.

darry, the one who’s still the nicest to you, asked if you’d like to restart.

and you happily agreed!

when you got to the curtis house, you found out that you shared more in common with the greasers than you thought.

the more you and the gang got to talk, the more they liked you.

the more they began to like you, the wider johnny’s smile got.

may 29th, 2023. 7:39PM

#2knightt #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #johnny cade x reader #johnny x reader #soc!reader

[gilmore-angel]

Teardrops On My Guitar | Ellie W. x reader

swiftmas ♱ this is the first day of swiftmas!!! I'm so excited and hope you are too! you can find this fic plus the other day on the link below!

summary ♱ your best friend ellie can't seem to understand that she's tearing your poor heart apart.

warnings/contains ♱ angst, no happy ending (sorry lol), NO Dina hate on this blog🙏, but reader is jealous, ellie is oblivious, RUSHED!!!

swiftmas ♱ navigation ♱ my library account is @baysfics, then on notifications to see when I post a fic!

the small chilly room was filled with smoke, guitar sounds and giggles. you sat next to ellie on her twin bed as she softly strummed her guitar. the sun had set a while ago, not that you or ellie were paying any attention. it had become common for you two to stay up until morning playing around with your guitars and eating food you'd managed to sneak. you two had done so since you first met, back when you were both just fifteen. in more recent years, a certain special plant had joined the mix.

"okay wait so... what cord was that again?" you asked, staring at her veiny hands. she continued to stare up at the ceiling, not at all hearing or paying attention to you.

you giggle softly, "earth to williams..." you wave your hand in front of her face, finally bringing her out of her trance. she blinks a few times, turning her head to look into your eyes. "huh? yea, what is it?" she speaks quietly in her normal raspy voice.

"did you even hear what I said, els?" you raise a brow, smiling softly. this wasn't the first time tonight she seemed to be completely ignoring you.

she sighs, chuckling at herself, "sorry, I'm just..." she suddenly pauses, questioning if she should say what she wants to. "you know dina, right?"

you nod, urging her to continue. she let's out a shaky breath, "do you think- I mean... what do you think of her? like... as a person?" ellie seemed almost nervous, which she never was around you.

you furrow your brows, confused as to why she would ask. you knew dina, sure, but barely. she seems like a nice girl, and is definitely beautiful. you shrug, "I mean, she seems cool I guess. I don't really talk to her. why do you ask?"

ellies pale cheeks grow red as she shrugs and rubs the back of her neck. "just you know, wondering," she glances back at you for a second, "do you think... you know, maybe me and her seem like we'd make a good, you know... match?"

your breath hitches at her words. a good match? why would she care about that?

you shrug, suddenly feeling awkward. "uh, I mean, I've never really thought about it before but I-I guess."

she chuckles, but there's no humor. "I don't know... I mean, I hope we would. there's something about her..."

breathing started to feel more difficult and you felt a sting in your eyes. you sit up, forcing a small smile. "I um... I should probably head home, it's getting pretty late."

she furrows her brows, confused as to why you're leaving so early. "oh, uh yea okay, do you want me to walk you home?"

you shake your head no, standing up and pulling on the big winter coat you had burrowed from joel. before anything else can be said you walk out, into the cold and icy outside.

what's so special about dina? sure, she's pretty and friendly, and smart and hardworking but aren't you too? you shake your head at your own thoughts. ellie is your best friend, nothing more or less. who cares who she's into?

you, apparently.

the rest of the walk home is filled with confusing thoughts and snow falling gently onto you.

———

the old barn was filled with the sound of music and laughter. maria had been successful in bringing some holiday fun to jackson yet again with another christmas party.

you stand in one of the corners, keeping an eye on the entrance. ellie had promised she'd come to the party and drag joel along with her. you sip on some water, waiting until later in the night to drive into some beer.

you glance at the open barn doors for the hundredth time and finally see ellie- and dina?

ellie walks in wearing her normal jeans and one of joels sweaters. around her arm is dina, looking perfect as always. dina smiles at everyone and greets her friends. ellie stands at her side, looking around the room. her eyes meet yours and she smiles softly, but makes no attempt at coming closer to you.

you force a fake smile, nodding your head at her. you can feel your heart break a little more each second. the urge to leave is overwhelming, and you give in. you quietly and discreetly grab your coat and make your way through the large group of people to the doors. you manage to slip out without anyone noticing, which you cant decide is good or bad.

you can hardly see the snowy path through the thick tears in your eyes. it's clear ellie and dina have something going on. all you can hope is that dina treats her right and knows how lucky she is.

#swiftmas (fayes version) #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie willams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #hbo tlou #tlou hbo #tlou2 #tlou x reader #tlou x you #bay writes🌻

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Remember me

Summary: You haven't been able to reach Jack since he left for a business trip, making you worried. Having no other way to contact him, you decide to drive to Statesman, unprepared to find him walking out of the building perfectly fine. You question your relationship, asking yourself if he would just ghost you after so many years of friendship until a Cowboy finds you crying in your car, and tells you everything about Statesman. And what happened to Jack.

Pairing: Agent Jack Whiskey Daniels x fem. reader

Wordcount: 2.5k

Rating: G

Warnings: memory loss, Friends to lovers, little angst, some fluff

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts since December. Hope you like it (cause I'm not sure I do lol)

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to follow fic updates

“When will you be back?” you listened to his steady heartbeat, your ear on his chest. 

His arms were around you, cuddled under the warm covers of his king sized bed. 

“A week. Tops,” he hummed and you felt him kiss the top of your head. You smiled, pressing your lips to his chest. 

“I’ll miss you,” you mumbled. 

“You won’t even notice I’m gone, sugarplum.”

“Hello, This is Jack. Leave a message after the…”

You sighed, ending the call. Again. It’s been almost three weeks. 

Three weeks in which you hadn’t seen or talked to Jack. He usually finds a way to let you know, if his job takes longer. 

You did not know exactly what he was doing, but you had your suspicions. He was often gone for weeks, not being able to contact you. 

Which was a surprise when you first learned about it, being under the impression that he  was the CEO of a whiskey distillery. 

“One day I’m gonna tell you everything about it, sugarplum,” he used to say. And for whatever reason you trusted him that he would. Even way before you both finally realised that your friendship was way more than that. 

You hadn’t been together for a long time. 

But you had known Jack for years. 

The little coffee shop you owned apparently lay on the way to his work and he started stopping by almost six years ago when he moved to a little town just outside of the city. 

You would always remember the first time he stepped into your little café. 

You had seen your fair share of cowboys throughout the years but Jack? Deep down you just knew he would be trouble.

You just did not know if in a good or in a bad way. 

He had ordered a plain black coffee and a muffin for breakfast. 

“Surprise me, Sugarplum,” he’d smirked at you when you asked him what kind of muffin he wanted. And yeah, that southern charm was trouble from the first day.

After that he came in every single day on his way to work. You’d only learn that he sometimes stopped by in the afternoon too much later, one of your employees telling you that he seemed a little disappointed when he did not see you. 

He had only asked for your actual name almost half a year later.

The friendship that had formed between the two of you always lingered on the line to becoming something more. 

It started with him inviting you to go out to the farmers market out of town one saturday. 

Then you invited him for a home cooked dinner which quickly became a weekly Thursday night thing.

You started spending time at his farm outside of town too. He had beautiful horses, some cows and chickens. 

He taught you how to ride and care for the horses.

You would have thought he had a dog too, but instead he had two cats called King and Queen. 

Two very cute fluffy white cats who followed him wherever he went once he got home. 

They loved to sleep on top of Jack when you had movie night. There might be a folder of pictures in your phone just of him with the cats. 

It would take more than five years of friendship until one drunken night left you sleeping in his bed, waking up the next morning in his arms, his lips brushing over the back of your neck, asking is this okay to which you only nodded while he kissed himself down your neck until you turned in his arms so he could kiss your lips for the first time. 

He took you out for your first date that very same night. 

You had talked to each other every single day in the last months, even when he had to get away. You practically had moved into his house, leaving your apartment in the city just for the occasional nights when you were too tired to drive back to his place after work. 

Or you stayed there when Jack was gone. His house feeling way too big and empty without him. 

But earlier today you had been at his place, finding it as deserted as it had been the last weeks.

You had no idea how to contact him outside of his phone number. You did not have any information on contacting his family or friends. The latter only being two men you had met briefly throughout the years. 

What you did know however was where he worked.

You took a deep breath, exhaling through your mouth as you looked at yourself in the mirror as you got ready for work. 

You missed him. 

You loved him. 

Maybe it was time to drive to Statesman across town to finally get some answers. 

You had been staring at the entrance for an hour. 

You hadn’t planned on staring at the entrance for an hour. 

You were about to get out of your car and demand answers but then you saw him walk out of the door. 

Jack. 

He was smiling as he talked to another man, one of his friends you had met whose name you had already forgotten, before you saw him climb into his Bronco and speed off. 

Why was he ignoring your calls?

Why didn’t he let you know that he was alive and well?

A constant stream of questions seemed to go through your head, only stopped when someone knocked on your car window. 

You blinked your eyes before you let the window down, an older man, another cowboy, looking at you. 

“Evening Ma’am. I noticed that you have been waiting here for a while and I was wondering if you need any help?” he asked. 

You sighed. 

“Yes… No. Sorry. I’ll… I’ll leave,” you mumbled, still confused. 

“Are you okay?” he asked and you huffed a laugh. 

“Just asking myself if my boyfriend decided to ghost me on purpose. He’s working here, you know? Haven’t seen him in almost a month, haven’t talked to him, but I just saw him walk out of those doors, looking perfectly fine to me.”

You were rambling. 

“I haven’t even told him that I love him. I think he loved me though. We’ve known each other for a long time. Used to flirt shamelessly with me every day when getting a coffee.”

“Now hold on there  for a minute there,” the Cowboy said and your lips pressed shut, looking at the man. 

“You don’t happen to be talking about a tall Cowboy with a preference for banana strawberry muffins from that little café across town?” he asked you. 

“I bake the muffins myself,” you whispered, looking at him. 

The man sighed. 

“Jack didn’t tell me he finally got his head out of his ass and made a move on you. You might wanna come inside with me? I think you deserve some answers.”

You were staring again. 

This time not at the entrance of Statesman, but at the door of Jack’s Farmhouse. 

The house that had become a home to you more than your own apartment was. 

Agent Champagne, Champ for friends, had explained to you that while Statesman was still a distillery, it always was a front for a secret organisation. 

And Jack was one of its Agents. One of the best apparently. 

Something had happened on his last mission and the short explanation was that he had come back from the dead and might have lost more memories than the agency first thought. 

Champ had encouraged you to drive out and visit Jack. He’d apparently been talking about stopping by the next morning at the café. He had only been released from the medical wing today.

He didn’t almost die, he had been dead. 

For almost three hours before they could bring him back. 

You took a deep breath before you got out of your car, walking the familiar path towards his house. Out of habit you reached for the key he gave to you to unlock the door, stopping with a head shake before you brought your hand up to knock on his door. 

The time it took before you heard footsteps behind the door seemed like hours, giving you time to school your face into a neutral expression when the door opened, revealing Jack standing in front of you, dressed in dark sweatpants and a faded Game of Thrones shirt. Your shirt. 

His face lit up when he saw you. 

“Sugarplum, I wasn’t expecting you,” he said with a smile and you felt tears welling up in your eyes, as you smiled at him. 

“Hi Jack,” you whispered as you looked up at him and as if it was pure instinct he opened his arms for you as you took a step towards him, his strong arms wrapping around your body as he kissed the top of your head. 

“I missed you so much,” you mumbled into his shirt, feeling his arm tighten around you.

“Are you sure, you’re okay sugar?” he asked and you took a deep breath before you looked up at him, finding his eyes looking down at you with concern. 

“I think we need to talk,” you said quietly. He frowned, but nodded, before he released you to close the door. 

King and Queen were sitting on either side of you as you sat on the sofa, waiting for Jack to come back from the kitchen. He’d offered to make tea and you had agreed, using the time to gather your thoughts. 

King was climbing into your lap as Jack came from the kitchen, your favourite mug, the one he had bought you only a couple weeks ago in his hand, your favourite tea in it. 

He set the mug down on the coffee table before he sat down on the couch next to you. 

“These two usually hate people,” he hummed, his hand stroking over the fur of Queen who meowed before she laid down in between the two of you. 

“I’m not just any people,” you smiled a little and Jack smiled back. 

“No you’re not,” he said warmly. 

“How was your work trip?” you asked and if he was taken aback by your question he did not show it. 

“Longer than expected but okay in the end. I’m actually gonna stay for a while now. Got some time off,” he explained and you nodded. 

“Did I tell you about leaving town?” he frowned in the next moment.

“You did,” you whispered, your hand stroking King on your lap who was puring by now. 

“Jack, what’s the last thing you remember? About me?” you asked.

He seemed confused before he took a deep breath. 

“I… I think the last time I saw you you were cooking in my kitchen? Some roast that burnt…” he murmured. 

You nodded. 

“Okay. That was… almost three months ago. It was your birthday. And I promised to make your favourite dish,” you said as you carefully took the mug of tea to drink some. 

He looked at you as if trying to figure you out. 

“We watched Star Trek after and you told me how you hated the new ones,” you continued, but he just kept looking at you. 

“I… I don’t remember?” he said and you closed your eyes, releasing a deep breath. 

“Jack, I talked to Champ today. And he… he told me what happened to you,” you whispered, sucking your bottom lip in. 

“Why would he do that?” he asked. 

“Because usually when something happens to an Agent on the job their family or spouse is informed. But we… you hadn’t told anyone. About us yet.”

“Us?” he asked, looking at you. 

“We’re… We’re together. Or we have been until you had to leave for your last job? I’m not really sure what we are now. I mean you can’t remember me…”

“I do remember you. I just… this is…”

“A lot. I know,” you sighed, fighting down the tears as you looked at him. 

“We both… Really? I finally told you how I felt?” he asked after a while and you huffed a laugh. 

“Not really. We were both drunk and I woke up in your bed…. we kissed the first time tight then in your bed,” you explained and he nodded. 

“I was wondering whose clothes were in my wardrobe,” he said with a huff and you nodded. 

“I… you actually asked me to move in with you before you left.”

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. 

“And you had no idea what happened these last weeks. I’m so sorry,” he reached over, squeezing your hand. 

“You’re very relaxed for someone who just got told he has a girlfriend he can’t remember.”

He chuckled. 

“Let’s just say, worse things have happened on the job.”

“Gee thanks,” you rolled your eyes with a smile and he grinned. 

You sighed. 

“Well, I’m just gonna grab some stuff and leave you alone,” you gently put King from your lap, standing up. 

“Why?” Jack asked, also standing up. 

“Because you can’t remember me, Jackson,” you smiled sadly.

He shook his head. 

“I do remember you. I remember everything about you. Just not… the most important part. The part where I finally got you in my life like I’ve wanted for a long time,” he whispered, taking a step closer towards you. 

You sighed. 

“What if you help me remember?”

“What are you proposing?”

“They… They use triggers when getting someone back. They always use a picture of my late wife that usually gets my brain back in the right lane. And it worked to some extent.”

“Just not for me,” you could not help the tears escaping your eyes now and Jack came even closer, his hands framing your face, as he wiped your tears away. 

“I knew something was missing. I just did not know what,” he whispered. You closed your eyes. 

“I know that I’m in love with you though,” he said and you gasped, opening your eyes. 

“I have been since the day I took you out to the farmers market. When I saw you in that beautiful dress I’m sure my heart stopped.”

“Jack,” you smiled through your tears. 

“So you see, I do remember you. I remember everything about you. I just don’t remember finally being with you.”

“You haven’t even told me you loved me yet,” you whispered and he groaned. 

“Pre Memory loss Jack was a real dumbass,” he grinned and you chuckled. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked. 

“Yes,” you breathed and then his lips were on yours. And it was if no time had passed, your arms wrapping around his broad back as you melted against him, his lips moving on yours, his moustache tickling you, making you grin against his lips. 

“I love you sugarplum,” he whispered against your lips and you smiled. 

“I love you too, Jack.”

#my fic #jack Daniels x fem. reader #jack daniels #Pedro pascal #jack whiskey daniels #agent whiskey #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

[pengweng-quack]

Being a Witch with Vampires

Carlisle Cullen x Witch!OC

Summary: Stella (A witch) and Carlisle (A vampire), and how they blossomed from roommates to friends(?) to partners

Chapter 4/7

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

Notes:

This was inspired by this fanfic on tumblr by lis-likes-fics titled "In My Defense, I Was Left Unsupervised"

This is also on Ao3 under the same title and same username too if you'd like to read it there (https://archiveofourown.org/works/53448940)

Posting is random lol, hope you guys enjoy this story

Word Count: 3710 words

TW for this chapter: None

Timeline: End of New Moon to start of Breaking Dawn (there is some Eclipse moment, just not a lot)

Masterlist

“How are we gonna do this?” Rosalie asked after receiving some sort of message from Emmett in an apparent “Operation: Get Carlisle and Stella to Make Up and Make Out”

“Well, we need to trap them together first.” Emmett said

“Trap who together?” Alice asked, walking in on the two of them discussing

“Stella and Carlisle.” Emmett answered

“Ooh!” Alice said, joining in the discussion

“I heard Carlisle and Stella discussion.” Jasper said, joining the three of them

The four of them started discussing of ways on how to get them to talk to each other again. It was obvious that they didn’t have much planned. That was until a knock on their door was heard

“Who knocks on our house?” Rosalie asked, speeding and opening the door for whoever it was.

“Stella!” Rosalie greeted, a grin on her face spreading

“Where’s Carlisle?” She asked in a rush, her whole body tensed

“You’re talking to him now?” Rosalie asked her with hopeful eyes as Alice, Emmett, and Jasper enters the room, shocked to see Stella

“Where’s Carlisle?” She asked again, and it seemed that she wasn’t gonna let anyone distract her from her main purpose of visiting

“Here.” Carlisle said, it seemed like he had done something but no one could pinpoint what it was

“You and I are having a long chat.” Stella hissed angrily, dragging him in the kitchen of the house by the ear. From the looks of it, Stella could have pulled Carlisle’s ear off in anger.

“Should we worry for him?” Jasper asked, sensing the tensed atmosphere

“No, he’s at fault. He’s getting his karma.” Rosalie said, sensing that they were about to witness an angry witch

“What’s happening?” Edward asked, entering the house with Bella

“Stella and Carlisle.” The four answered in chorus

“You foul vampire!” Stella angrily yelled at the vampire, who was sitting down on one of the island chairs like a child that was about to be scolded “You can’t do that!”

“Dear—

"You can't just leave and come back and think that I'll be accepting you with open arms!" Stella angrily yelled at Carlisle, who cannot do anything other than to listen at her outburst

“You can’t casually send me an email as an apology thinking I will forgive you with just that!” Stella hissed, shaking from holding back her tears

“Because you know I will!” Stella yelled, frustratingly running her hands through her hair “You know I’ll always forgive you, I just wanted to hear it from you instead of some stupid email!”

"Stella—

"You can’t just persuade me to join a night’s out and get me to go home only to have all of you gone!” Stella continued, her tone louder than the last

“You can’t do that!” She cried, pointing her fingers at him and doing everything in her power, literally and figuratively, to not show weakness at this vampire she once trusted

However, she was unable to conceal it from Carlisle. As the next thing she knew was how she felt Carlisle’s cold but comforting arms around her, pulling her closer to him, and allowing her to cry on his chest. Stella always hid any sort of weakness to anyone, in fear that it would be used against her. It’s what they taught to her growing up. But she felt vulnerable, knowing that the guy she had discovered to be her mate may and can abandon her at any time.

Carlisle had never seen Stella break down as she did now in all the centuries that they've known each other. He was devastated to learn that he was the one who had led her to have such a big breakdown. He had long suspected that she was his mate, and his suspicions had been confirmed. And it was only after he departed that he understood how badly he screwed things up. Because he opted to depart rather than remain with her. He opted to be self-centered. With his selfishness came the risk of losing his mate by his side.

“I’m sorry.” Carlisle muttered repeatedly, rubbing her back and holding her close to him. He vows on that day to never leave her again; he has all of eternity to fix his relationship with her. And he’s gonna start now.

“My confident witch, my star, my Stella, I’m so sorry for hurting you this way.” He whispered, leaving pecks of assurance on the temples of her head “It was selfish of me to leave you after what had happened.”

“You l-left.” Stella cried, though it was muffled from the fabric of Carlisle’s shirt “You a-all left. You left u-us.”

“And it was the worst mistake that ever came across my mind.” Carlisle comforted, rubbing her back and playing with her hair “Leaving you is the worst mistake that I have ever done. And I apologize for hurting you this way.”

Carlisle made no attempt to make her stop because she deserved to let out all of the grief that she had been holding in for months in order to be strong for both herself and Bella.

“I’m sorry mi amor,” Carlisle hushed, looking at Stella’s swollen face “I will never, ever leave you again. Unless you want me to.”

“N-no.” Stella argued almost immediately “Never leave like that again, I need you.”

“Then I will never leave.” Carlisle decided at once “You will never be alone again, I will be with you from now on until the end of eternity.”

“You better be.” Stella said, a small laugh coming out her lips

“Come, it seems like you haven’t gotten a lot of rest.” Carlisle offered

“Will you be there when I wake up?” Stella asked, looking at him with hopeful eyes

“I will be with you until my heart stops beating.” Carlisle announced at one

Stella blushed at what Carlisle had said, wanting nothing more than to hold on to Carlisle’s words. She was still wary, Carlisle knew that. But he had all of eternity to prove that he would never leave her like that again.

And that eternity starts today.

“What’s happening?” Bella asked everyone who was listening intently just outside the kitchen

“Either we’re getting Stella back in this house, or I’m throwing Edward for suggesting that we leave Forks.” Rosalie said in an annoyed tone, getting Emmett to have a small proud smile on his face

"Let's not blame each other." Bella said, trying to ease the atmosphere

"Stella and Carlisle have always had this sort of relationship where you don't know if they're together or not. I can't possibly be at fault alone." Edward defensively said

“They’re each other’s mate!” Rosalie hissed angrily “They know that! And we know that!”

“Carlisle wouldn’t be this protective of Stella if she wasn’t his mate.” Jasper agreed with Rosalie

“I can’t believe we have a coven leader who has never asked his mate to be with him for eternity.” Emmett said, showing frustration at how Carlisle handles his relationship with Stella

“Because we play a part in getting them together.” Alice said, just finishing having a vision

“What’d you mean?” Edward asked, even though he could read into her mind

“We plan it out.” Bella said in realization “We see what we can do to actually get them to tell each other what they feel, given that they haven't said anything to each other yet.”

“What are you thinking?” Rosalie asked, hopeful that Bella actually had a plan on helping Carlisle and Stella to be together. It was the first time that Rosalie actually wanted to listen to her

“What are you planning?” Stella’s voice boomed from outside the kitchen, Carlisle behind her like some lost puppy

“Nothing!” All of them said in chorus. Even though Stella knew that it wasn’t just ‘nothing’

“Come, you need some rest.” Carlisle invited, his arms making its way to rest on Stella’s waist

“I think the fuck not.” Rosalie said, walking to Stella and hugging her, pulling her away from Carlisle “I missed you so so so much!”

“If it ever comes down to choosing between you and Carlisle, count me on your team.” Emmett teased, hugging Stella next as Rosalie pulled away

“Count me in too!” Alice gleefully said, tackling Stella in a tight hug

“Just for Carlisle, I’ll stay with him.” Jasper joked before hugging Stella “But I will make sure to miss you every day and influence Carlisle with it too.”

Edward was last, he was awkward while moving to Stella and facing her. He had a speech in mind before Stella tackled him to a hug

“Never ever be a dumbass again.” Stella said, feeling Edward hug her back

Carlisle watched as they all hug Stella, a content smile on his face. He didn’t know what could still happen, seeing as Bella was still human and Stella was on the Volturi’s watchlist.

But he was now back with his confident witch.

All is well.

~2006~

“Fighting again?” Stella asked an anxious Carlisle

“A newborn army, and no, you’re not joining the fight. You’re staying with Bella and Edward.” Carlisle quickly instructed, earning a groan from Stella

“I’m not babysitting two horny teenagers!” Stella argued, while Edward let out a ‘hey’ from upstairs “I’m gonna fight!”

“You’re not gonna—

“Who are you to stop me?” Stella asked in a dangerous tone

Her question caught Carlisle off guard. Who was he to be this protective of her? Was he willing to let her know his suspicion that she was his mate?

“I know I’m your mate and all but come on!” Stella whined “You can't be too protective of me, especially when I'm capable of handling myself. What good is being the blessed witch of today if I never use my abilities?”

“You know I’m your mate?” Carlisle asked, a hint of glee in his tone

“And you ignored the other part, of course you ignored the—

Carlisle had lost control of himself, 286 years of being with her, 280 years of pining. He ran in and grabbed her by the waist, kissing her on the lips in the process. The warmth of her body was pressed against the coldness of his. It was contrasting but it was perfect for the both of them. Her warm hands found its way to rest on his chest, taking support. They would have continued in that position for much longer if it hadn't been for the witch's need to breathe.

“I’ve waited bit too long for that.” Stella teased, wrapping her arms around Carlisle’s neck. The both of them having giddy smiles on their face

“I hope it was worth the wait.” Carlisle teased back, before going in for another kiss, pulling her closer to him

"Carlisle, we have train— that explains the emotions." Jasper said, seeing what was happening between their coven leader and his strong witch

"It's not what it looks like." Carlisle said defensively, pulling away from Stella. Before leaving the room, Jasper only nodded. But Stella knew he wasn't going to believe anything Carlisle said, especially since they'd all been waiting decades for them to get together.

“You seem so offended with the thought of us together.” Stella said, crossing her arms, and frowning at Carlisle

“Mi amor, I've been waiting for this for a long time; all I ask is that they don't find out through Jasper or Edward's abilities.” Carlisle comforted, wrapping his arms around Stella’s body. Smiling as he rests his head on her shoulders

“We have training!” Emmett shouted from outside the door, most likely receiving instructions from Jasper not to burst in.

~~

There were flying bodies everywhere. All the vampires are being destroyed by the Cullens or by the wolves.

“Carlisle, watch out!” Stella screamed, too far away to help Carlisle since two vampires were focusing their attacks on her.

Rosalie stepped in to help Stella beat the two vampires. Carlisle ran up behind Stella, refusing to be separated from her for the remainder of the fight. They were each other's eyes and ears, guarding one other against the vampires that wanted them dead.

The two was about to kill another vampire, though she showed hesitancy in fighting back. Carlisle looked at Stella, who was already looking at him, and knew what this would mean for them. She was young and it looked like she didn’t even know that this was the purpose as to why she was changed.

And soon, the battle between the newborns and the Cullens and wolves came to an end. Edward informed everyone that the Volturi are coming and that the wolves should leave. Carlisle informed their pack leader that he would follow soon to take care of Jacob, who had his bones broken from a newborn.

“Impressive. I've never seen a coven escape an assault of this magnitude intact.” Jane said, seeing glimpses of the burning vampires

“It’s only because they have a witch on their side.” Alec said, a chuckle escaping his lips

“What would a weakling like her do to an assault like this?” Jane snickered “Surprised that she’s still alive.”

“She’s more than capable of fending for herself.” Carlisle said, pushing Stella behind him.

Even though he knew Stella was capable of protecting him and herself, he was still afraid. He left the Volturi on bad terms centuries ago, but he didn't simply disappear. He pulled Stella into his mess, dragging her into the messy world of being a vampire in a world full of vampires that didn't think witches and humans were worth anything. He was now afraid that this was his long-awaited retribution, and that Stella would be the one to pay the price.

“It appears we missed an entertaining fight.” Alec said, looking at the vampire bodies burning near them

“Yes.” Jane agreed “It's not often we're rendered unnecessary.”

“If you'd arrived a half hour ago, you would've fulfilled your purpose.” Edward said, in annoyance of the Volturi’s presence

“Pity.” Jane said, before her eyes averted on the newborn behind Carlisle and Stella “You missed one.”

“She’s with us now.” Stella immediately said, taking a step forward

“We offered her asylum in exchange for her surrender.” Carlisle added, backing his confident witch up

“That wasn’t yours to offer.” Jane disagreed

“Nor should you offer any punishment as she surrendered herself.” Stella argued before stabs of pain was in her body. Stella let out a yell, dropping to the floor, and realizing that Jane was using her abilities on her.

“Stop!” Carlisle yelled, shaking Stella as she groans from the pain “She has nothing to do with this!”

“Oh, she has everything to do with this.” Jane said, looking at her

With Jane’s comment, she launched one more assault on Stella, knocking her out cold because of the excruciating anguish she was experiencing.

~~

“She’s waking up! Call Carlisle!” Stella heard a voice call, and multiple footsteps come in and out the room. But what was dominant was the pain in her head.

“Carlisle is in the middle of a surgery!” Another voice yelled, knowing that Carlisle would want to do some check-ups on her before allowing her to go back to moving around

“How are you feeling?” Alice’s sweet voice asked, trying to block the noise from everyone that was panicking

“Shit.” Stella muttered, opening her eyes and adjusting to the bright light of the room

“How does it feel, Jane’s power?” Bella asked her, wiping her forehead with cold wipes

“Like thousands of knives have been stabbed in me, but not so much.” Stella explained “How long have I been out?”

“Like 6 days or so.” Bella answered “Carlisle has been more anxious lately since he expected you to wake up after 3 days.”

“Do you want anything?” Rosalie asked

“Carlisle, maybe.” Stella said, frowning from the lack of presence from her vegetarian vampire

“Of course, she’ll ask for Carlisle.” Jasper grinned, knowing how much information he and Edward were withholding from those who couldn't sense emotions or read minds.

 “Carlisle’s on the phone, he wants to talk to Stella.” Edward said as Bella and Alice helped Stella to sit up. Stella grabs the phone from Carlisle and ushered everyone out the room to give a little bit of privacy between him and her

“Hello, mi amor.” Carlisle greeted, and even if he wasn’t in the room, Stella knew that he had a wide grin on his face

“Hi Carlisle.” Stella greeted back, a soft smile creeping on her face

“How are you feeling love?” Carlisle asked

“I don’t know how to explain it.” Stella answered honestly

“Throw words, I’ll understand you.” Carlisle comforted. Despite the fact that she knew it was because he was a doctor, Stella felt butterflies in her stomach because Carlisle seemed to understand her effortlessly, despite the fact that what she was saying no longer made sense.

“Dear, I know that I have my way to your heart, but you have to let me know what you’re feeling.” Carlisle teased Stella, followed by a light giggle, in an attempt to bring her back to her senses.

“It’s just there’s pain in my body.” Stella started explaining “Like there’s something in me just poking my head and sending pain all over.”

“Anything more?” Carlisle asked with a hum

“I don’t know. I think I just need my vampire with me at the moment.” Stella said in a low voice but she knew Carlisle got that

“Well, your vampire is needed at the hospital at the moment. Would you like any of the vampire kids to substitute in the time being?” Carlisle asked her “Or human, if you’re preferring Bella right now.”

“Eh, we’ll see later.” Stella shrugged “You go back to work now; I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Yes, you better stay in bed and rest, mi amor.” Carlisle reminded her

“But—

“If I get informed by any of the others that you left bed today. I won’t give you your daily cuddles.” Carlisle threatened, earning an angry gasp from Stella “I have not done any of my check up to you, I’ll need to make sure that you’re perfectly alright now.”

“Fine.” Stella could only mutter angrily before ending the call

“They’re together, aren’t they?” Rosalie asked from outside the door. They shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but it was Carlisle and Stella, and they have been waiting forever for them to end up together

“No.” Jasper and Edward answered at once

“Are you serious?” Emmett asked

“Yeah, they haven’t made anything official yet.” Edward answered to them

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

~~

Edward and Bella were on their honeymoon at Isla Stella, an island Carlisle bought for her way back the 1900’s, spending time alone as a newlywed couple while the rest of the Cullens stayed back.

“100 dollars, and we’re coming back with vampire Bella.” Emmett said, throwing the 100 dollars on the coffee table

“100 dollars and we’re not coming back with vampire Bella.” Rosalie intervened, throwing her 100 dollars next to Emmett’s 100 dollars

“Not coming back with vampire Bella.” Jasper said, throwing his 100 dollars with Rosalie’s money

“1000 dollars in the not having vampire Bella yet.” Alice said, grabbing 1000 dollars and placing it with Rosalie and Jasper’s money

“Are you betting the outcome of their honeymoon?” Stella asked, walking in and seeing the dollars on the table

“…no?” Rosalie answered, though it came out like a question

“2000 dollars and we’re not having vampire Bella until later.” Stella said, using her magic to make 2000 dollars appear on her hands and dropping it on the coffee table

“I don’t think so though.” Emmett disagreed, grabbing his wallet and dropping at least 300 more dollars on the table “I saw what Alice packed for Bella, I think dear Edward is to lose control.”

“Are you betting about Edward and Bella?” Carlisle asked, resting his body on the doorway. Stella turned around and saw her vampire, wearing a fitted button up sleeve that made her witch heart beat just a teeny bit faster

“Yes.” Stella confessed, a cheeky grin on her face

“What did I say about betting?” Carlisle reminded everyone

“That they shouldn’t do it with me.” Stella answered for them, grinning widely at him

“You really are a bad influence to our kids.” Carlisle said, an endearing smile on his face as he moves to where she was, resting his hand on her waist and pecking her forehead

Rosalie, Emmett, Jasper, and Alice exchanged smirking glances. They could see where this was going and couldn't wait. It had been much too long since they had known and had this kind of connection, and it was time for them to be together.

“You love me.” Stella teased, a giddy smile on her face

And before Carlisle could answer, Rosalie’s phone started ringing.

“Bella?” Rosalie asked as she answered the phone

“I need your help.” Bella said

Edward and Bella were returning the next day. Bella's baby bump was visible, and Edward remained silent. Carlisle began using ultrasounds, but none of them were able to penetrate the fetal sac. And Alice was not seeing the kid or Bella in the future. Stella went through all of her literature, looking for anything on a human-vampire relationship. Looking for anything that could be of assistance.

“Shit.” Stella said in realization, understanding that she has to leave.

And when everyone was out looking for food at night. Stella gathered some of her belongings into a tiny suitcase and informed Bella and Jacob of her plans. Bella's eyes showed the grief of Stella's departure, but she accepted after some persuasion. She grabbed one of Carlisle's shirts before heading out, just to have a small remembrance of her home.

Bidding her goodbyes to Bella and Jacob, Stella quickly flew up in the sky. So high that she wasn’t gonna be visible down where the Cullens were hunting. She didn’t think that the day will come where she’ll have to come back to where it all started. She was anxious, but she didn’t want to leave her family in the dark.

She was sure that Italy had some answers to her questions.

#alice cullen #bella swan #carlisle cullen #carlisle cullen x reader #edward cullen #jasper hale #no esme on this one (i love her though i promise) #rosalie hale #twilight saga #emmett cullen #twilight renaissance #twilight x reader #the cullens #twilight #carlisle x reader #carlisle cullen imagine #carlisle cullen fanfiction #carlisle cullen x you

[onthewaytosomewhere]

WIP Wednesday

so, apparently i really need to stop saying i'm not gonna do something when it comes to fics that's how i end up writing so many things

including this thing that attempted to eat my brain yesterday - IT'S A FAIRYTALE i guess - and it's already got a title (baby, just say yes) and according to my doc is over 1500 words and just started - oh my - this is a bit rough cuz i've really just been getting it into the doc at this point - but here goes have some of the beginning (cuz it's been written in segments so far)

it's a bit longer than i thought so i'll put it behind a read-more along with some tags (like so many lol)

Once upon a time, there was a young boy, a prince named Henry – Prince Henry Fox of Windsor. Prince Henry lived what many would believe to be a charmed life - full of love and happiness. While his life did have these things, it also had loneliness, sadness, and anger. Our young prince was lucky to have some family members who would always have his back, and as he grew older, he realized how very important that was. It has been said that Prince Henry will always remember the first time he saw Prince Alexander Diaz of Claremont. He had just turned seven days before and was standing on the balcony, overlooking the garden, when he saw the sun reflect off the shiny curls atop the younger prince’s head as he ran amongst the flowers. If we could see into his mind, we would know he often thinks about the joy written across Prince Alex’s face and the mirth in those chocolate eyes that have frequently been described as the most beautiful anyone has seen. His sister, Princess Beatrice, ever his stalwart supporter, will recall to anyone who asks how Henry talked all about the mysterious boy in the garden. Even all these years later, she can remember telling him all she knew of Prince Alex and what he was there for and how our young prince hung on to her every word about him. Henry’s father, the Earl of Foxburough(?), Arthur Fox, will tell you, if you ask, how excited his youngest son had been at the prospect of getting to play with someone other than Bea - after all, there are only so many times a young boy wants to stand still while his sister dresses him up and puts makeup on him. He also will recall the devastation he saw Henry go through when Queen Mary didn’t allow it to happen. Our young prince had kept his eyes peeled, hoping to see that joy up close. Unfortunately, it was not meant to be that time; it would be a few more years before that happened.

and now i'm pretty sure i'm like first to do this so i'm a tag everyone with some no-pressure tags cuz i'm like a puppy and need to know what you're working on lol @adreamareads @agame-writes @anincompletelist @bitbybitwrites @dragonflylady77 @duchessdepolignaca03 @england-would-fall @firenati0n @firstsprinces @forever-fixating @heybuddy-drabbles @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @inexplicablymine @junebugclaremontdiaz @kiwiana-writes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @magicandarchery @piratefalls @priincebutt @sophie1973 @stellarm @sunnysideprince @suseagull04 @taste-thewaste @typicalopposite

#wip wednesday #red white and royal blue #firstprince #baby just say yes #rwrb wip #why do i do this to myself

[8turning]

HII can u do a 8turn headcannon abt how they r like crushing on the reader and what they do to show the reader their love for them ?

thank you for this request!! apologies that it took me so long 💔

☆⠀⠀8TURN — when they're pining for you !

hyung line + jangshinz (separately) x gn ! reader ★ fluff. mutual pining. ★ headcannon

warnings: swearing. physical affection. let me know if i missed anything!

n. i have a similar headcannon here about how they'd show their love; this fic will focus more on how they pine for reader since a lot of my thoughts are already shared on that post!! ♡ also this derailed a bit,,, there's implied confessions HELP sorry 🤒

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀〈 REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED ! 〉

⁰⁰¹ : JAEYUN.

wouldn't realize he liked you until someone pointed it out to him 1/2 🤕

^ he would regret thinking deeper about what yoonsung had told him: "are you sure you don't feel anything for them?" . . . queue a montage of every single memory he has with you where his stomach did a "weird flip" that he never chose to acknowledge.

basically. jaeyun was fucked LOL

BUT despite his revelation, he managed to keep himself composed pretty well. he was never overly affectionate with the members so him suddenly getting lost in his thoughts a lot wasn't exactly foreign.

what was foreign, though, was his very apparent distance.

to be fair, he wasn't fully aware he was doing it. it was more so "when i'm around them i get this Feeling. i cant handle that Feeling right now," then he kinda just. goes somewhere else for the time being.

you'd realize it, overthink it all, and text him on a whim that you needed to talk to him.

he'd get so nervous and only then would he really think about his behavior and . . . yeah you deserved an explanation, even if it resulted in rejection for him :(

he wouldn't speak first. he'd want you to feel welcomed to let out any emotion you were feeling; you were the one who wanted to talk, it wouldn't be right of him to take over.

he'd know that no matter his reason, him suddenly avoiding you and saying "i didn't realize" wasn't going to cut it, so swallowing whatever anxiety he had, he confessed then and there. it wasn't too in depth, of course, but it didn't feel right for him to hide it any longer - especially after everything.

but, the silence that followed his confession made all the anxiety bubble up again, only for you to speak about your reciprocated feelings.

in an unknown way, him pulling back from you is what brought you two together in the end; strange how that works.

⁰⁰² : MYUNGHO.

he's not shy in the slightest LMFAOO 💀 it'd be more shocking if you didn't know he liked you.

it doesn't even matter if you two were hanging out with other people either, he'd make a point to sit by you during a movie. even if it wasn't a horror movie, he'd still tell you that if you're scared, you can cling to him (as if he is any better with scary movies . . . his arm ends up around your shoulder anyways).

he's not usually one for talking during a movie, but he cant help but crack jokes here and there, using that as an excuse to lean in closer to you and watch as you try to hold your laughter in, his eyes watching you adoringly.

myungho would pull you into your own little world when you're with one another,,, he'd literally be so obvious about his feelings for you i'm crying.

openly flirting and complimenting you non-stop,,, holding eye contact if you ever caught him looking at you,,,

myungho would literally tell you how much he liked you straight up 🤭 "i like you a lot, y'know that?" "i'm so glad i met you." "you'll let me stay with you, right?"

the only time EVER he'd get shy if it was you who initiated something. he'd actually lose his mind.

it'd be such a stark contrast to the myungho you knew previously that you couldn't help but laugh a bit whenever you caught him like that.

holding his hand out of nowhere or leaning your head on his shoulder is a surefire way to make heat rise along his neck and make him go speechless.

he's so open about it and talks about you so much. his members are SICK OF HIM!!!! /j

minho probably threatened that if he doesn't make a move soon that he'll ask you out himself . . . you'd get a message from myungho the next morning ♡

⁰⁰³ : MINHO.

bye he's so so playful and he'd be able to cover up how he truly felt pretty well, which was both a positive and a negative for him.

positive: he'd be able to hug you nonchalantly or tap his cheek asking for a kiss and you'd think nothing of it.

negative: you'd think nothing of it.

since minho often acts this way with his friends as well, he slowly becomes self-conscious of his actions, worrying that that's all you saw him as - a friend.

he'd probably slowly try to either a: be more forward with you, or b: reserve certain actions for you only.

minho would stop blowing kisses to myungho and asking seungheon to kiss his cheek. he might even go as far as to not be as physically affectionate with his members anymore.

slowly letting you come to the conclusion yourself that the way he treats you is different from his members.

if you weren't the type to fight against him when he acted this way, if you suddenly started reciprocating the same actions towards him, his head would start spinning.

if it was a normal occurrence for you to return his energy, he'd start to wonder if you treated your friends like this as well.

but . . . he never saw you cling onto jaeyun's arms like you do with him . . . and you don't look at haemin the same way you look at him . . . hm . . .

minho crushing on you would be hard to detect until he made more of an effort to let his guard down about it.

you'd pick up on his behavior change pretty quickly which only opened the conversation of "why are you suddenly treating me like i'm special?"

(hint: its because you are special to him).

⁰⁰⁴ : YOONSUNG.

he is taking this to his GRAVE!!! he'd try to be so so so secretive and discreet.

yoonsung falls hard and doesn't want to overwhelm you with how he feels and everything :( wants to try and soak in the feeling of crushing on you but every time he sees you he just gets so overjoyed and just wants to confess right then and there.

which is why he feels he needs to take this to his grave 😭 he's not sure if he will ever be able to fully "calm down" around you enough to properly confess to you the way you deserve to be confessed (he thinks you deserve the world).

tries to act as Normal as he can around you, but most of the time i think he'd fall kind of silent.

whether you're with a group of friends or just talking one-on-one, he'd get so wrapped up in his thoughts and become uncharacteristically quiet.

it was a constant internal battle for yoonsung. he wanted to be near you but also knew he likely couldn't hide how he felt for much longer.

unlike minho, yoonsung wasn't going to hug you or hold your hand out of no where. he did this with his friends, sure, but he didn't see you as just a friend, which made physical affection towards you that much harder.

the lines would get blurred in his brain and he feared if you reciprocated, even if it was platonic, he'd make an assumption that could end up hurting him.

of course, yoonsung was unaware of your feelings towards him as well, and seeing him seemingly pulling away from you, you subconsciously do the same :(

he doesn't realize just how different he was acting towards you until that moment, and as if his heart took control over his brain, he'd spill all of his feelings for you, doing his best to explain away his behavior.

and it worked - who could stay mad at him for too long?

⁰⁰⁵ : HAEMIN.

wouldn't realize he liked you until someone pointed it out to him 2/2 💔

everything would be going perfectly fine for haemin,,, until minho jokingly commented about how much he liked you. then that became all he thought about.

begin haemin's internal debate of if he liked you romantically or not! and if it was true (it was), how long? upon actually giving it a lot of thought . . . he's liked you for a while without really processing his feelings effectively.

and now,,, he cannot properly face you!! at least, not in the beginning.

everything hits him so fast and he's forced to process his emotions at a rapid pace now. he does a decent job at hiding his inner turmoil about the topic, but he eventually confides in kyungmin about it (though it wasn't on purpose),, kyungmin just caught him while he was dazed!! totally not like he went to kyungmin stressing about possibly ruining your friendship hahaha . . .

once he was able to fully "recover" and process everything, he's a goner. heart eyes are permanent.

just so absolutely infatuated with everything you do and say. comes around more often and always manages to take the spot next to you if you're with a group of people.

always always always joking around with you because he loves the sound of your laugher and how happy you seem when you smile, especially when you smile because of him.

in a twisted ending, haemin is grateful that minho made him fall into a crisis. if he hadn't, he wouldn't have been able to have these moments with you.

once you end up together, minho rightfully takes full credits for the relationship starting, kyungmin taking credit for helping haemin get over his fear of ruining everything between you two.

so - albeit his disagreement - haemin accepts that they should get some credit for their help.

but how it all came to be doesn't matter much, as long as in the end, he ended up with you.

⁰⁰⁶ : KYUNGMIN.

i'm not usually fond of the trope of someone who brings up the person they like every time they can but,,,, kyungmin does exactly that. his members get so tired of him for it too HELP (he's gotten into the practice of just,, thinking of you instead of verbally bringing you up so often).

his members' anger (/j) doesn't stop him though!! every chance he gets he talks about you,, the only time that stops is when you're around 🧍‍♂️

you BET the members are gonna poke fun at him for that too LMFAO

when you're around, he'd be much more into listening rather than speaking himself.

"platonic" kisses on the backs of your hands. "platonic" hand holding. (nothing about it is platonic).

kyungmin would love love love to rest his head on your shoulder!! whether he's standing behind you while talking with a group of friends or sitting next to each other watching a movie, he just likes the feeling (bonus points if his arm is looped under yours to play with your fingers).

he'd be in his own head a lot,,, daydreaming and such,,, even though you're right next to him 🧍‍♂️

if you were to nudge him while he was like this, he'd look at you with the most love-filled gaze.

he didn't have to say anything to you, just from the way he looked at you and the light blush forming on his cheeks, you knew. the way your stomach filled with butterflies as you held his gaze was also a great indicator that his look meant something more.

it was then when he saw how your gaze changed too - it changed to one that matched his own. with a deep breath, he'd squeeze your hand before a smile spread across his face.

© 8turning 2023.

#8turn fluff #8turn x reader #8turn writing #8turn fanfiction #8turn fanfic #jaeyun fluff #myungho fluff #minho fluff #yoonsung fluff #haemin fluff #kyungmin fluff #jaeyun x reader #myungho x reader #minho x reader #yoonsung x reader #haemin x reader #kyungmin x reader #kpop fluff #kpop fanfic #.mine #.jaeyun #.myungho #.minho #.yoonsung #.haemin #.kyungmin

[bcolfanfic]

You’re never a nuisance dear *hugs*

I can’t imagine how horrible this time is for you and anything we can do to help please let us know. I wanted to send this off anon so you had the option of just responding privately if you wanted, anything is fine with me. Please take care of yourself ❤️

For little headcanons or something, my head has been filled with touch-starved Gale when he and Bucky first meet. Obviously by the time the show starts he’s been having his full of loving Bucky touches but when they first met in training he was coming off years of being alone and neglect/abuse and not a good relationship with touch in general. So many thoughts of how Bucky may or may not realize this and as their relationship develops Gale is struck hard with all this need and aching he didn’t know he had.

you are such a sweetie and i love our talks, thank you <3

and yes yes- i love thinking about when they first met. before i started All Again i started a diff long form/multi chapter fic that would've been centered around that. and who knows, if the fandom is still kicking whenever i finish All Again maybe i'll revisit it! there's an OC in there that gets blue discharged that i do want to come back to...but anyways to your actual prompt.

aw- sweet buck. at the risk of sounding weird that actually reminds me a lot of my dad, who enlisted to get out of a chaotic family situation. he was apparently a scrawny little thing with a baby face- and has told me that the other guys at boot camp used to rib him asking if his mama knew where he was, lol!

re: buck, imagining his sweetie little 25 year old self first meeting bucky makes me want to wail. he was probably quite shy, and here comes bucky in all his loud bucky glory informing him, among other things, that his name is no longer gale cleven. i can def imagine bucky being quite touchy right off the bat, but laying off when he realizes gale is reacting like a startled little deer. it interests him- in that he figures there must be a reason behind it, but he doesn't want to push too hard too soon and mostly leaves it alone. but even when he isn't as touchy with gale he *is* touchy with their other buddies, and gale can't help but watch and wish he didn't react like he did so bucky could pat his face, push him along by the back of his neck and wrap his arms around him from behind like that. he thinks if it was anyone else he'd hate it. but not if it was bucky. and he doesn't quite know what to do with that.

#buck x bucky #clegan

[fbfh]

you're mine (and I'm yours) - scott mccall x witch!mate!reader hcs

wc: 4k

genre: soulmate au sort of, lowkey a sabrina the teenage witch au (hilda and zelda are your aunts) bc I'm in my 90s witchy whimsigothic era,

summary: trying to balance your newly realized powers as a young witch with a social life and starting at a new school is a lot to handle, and you're thrown for a huge curveball when the hot werewolf on the lacrosse team forms a mate bond with you, dragging both of you into each others secret worlds

warnings: not proof read, some predator/prey dynamics bc scott is a literal werewolf, scott realizes he's being kind of creepy towards you but you can tell he's not human so you get it yk, you pass out bc you're a tad overwhelmed, scott is very posessive, scott is very clingy, scott is so fucking down bad for you, implied size difference (specifically he has bigass hands), astral projection/eavesdropping through dreams, awkward mate talk with Derek and Scott, mention of future conversations about ruts but otherwise sfw, your Aunt Hilda and Salem both make dog jokes at Scott but he takes them in stride, I think that's it??

song rec: we belong together - ritchie valens, wereowl - sj tucker, wolf bite - owl city, head over feet - alanis morissette, also here's an outfit but it's totally optional lmao

a/n: had this in the works for a while!! It spiraled out of control lol,, I was debating using this as an outline but it's already pretty long and I'm coming out of a slump so I'll take what I can get lol but if yall like this def expect more of scott x whimsigothic witch reader bc I have SO many ideas lol ALSO for your consideration chris flemming's take on witch summer, and scott introduces himself to you like skunk from a diy basement show ((also tagging people on the movie/tv show au tag list and the omegaverse tag list bc of the genre so if you don't know why you're getting tagged in a teen wolf fic that's why lol))

@yesv01 @almostjollypizza @fictionalcomforts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @urmum-xoxo @raajali3 @paige-creates @lubsana @demirunner @almostjollypizza  @mystic-writings  @babiesimagines  @lizziebitch33 @jacksondeeznuts @hopefullhearts @justbookworm @Asunnyhunny @cowboylikekelsey

You and your family have always been somewhat quiet, kept to yourselves

In spite of some family members more… flashy joie de vivre

And in spite of the fact that you’re all at least a little eccentric 

You really do try to keep to yourselves

You just want a chill, peaceful existence 

You’re not looking for trouble 

Do no harm take no shit kind of energy

A lot of this is due to the fact that almost everyone in your family are witches 

You have a cousin who’s a sorcerer that lives out in tallahassee 

But besides that

You’re pretty much all witches

Your mom and dad live in michigan, often visiting family in the hudson valley or up in northern new england 

Quiet places where no one will look too closely at private lowkey eccentric people 

Once your magic and clairvoyant powers started to develop on your 16th birthday, you move in with your two aunts in northern california

A small town called beacon hills

Everyone knew figuring out a balance between learning about your powers and heritage and maintaining a normal social life was going to be hard

Your aunts arranged a split schedule for you

You’d homeschool half the week to give you more time and freedom to learn your craft

And go to the public high school half the week 

Hybrid schooling isn’t exactly conventional, but nothing about your family really is

The school board apparently weren’t very pro on this but your aunts managed to convince them

So for the first half of the week, everything goes fine

You’re doing your homework as fast as you can and learning so much about your powers

You’ve been studying auras and energy reading

Once you get the hang of it, you find it’s hard to shut it off

The second half of the week surprisingly also goes okay

At first

Your first day at beacon hills high, you get a tour from a guy named Stiles who is either taking way too much or not enough adderall 

He seems a little sidetracked and you get the impression he has a lot going on outside of school

You’re also approached by a girl named Allison and her friend Lydia

Allison tells you that she’s somewhat new to beacon hills too, and you form a sort of bond over that

You wonder if she’s a fire sign, you immediately pick up on a strong warrior/fighter type of energy from her 

Lydia is really nice too, and you can tell she’s a lot smarter than she lets on

You pick up an unusual energy from Lydia, something tugging at your gut and poking the corners of your mind, but it doesn't feel threatening so you brush it off

You sense Stiles nearby and turn your head, seeing him talk with a lanky blonde dude

Your stomach drops 

There is something very weird about this guy 

You can feel a really distinct energy but you can't put it into words 

You squint, wondering what his name is

You're getting a lot of vowels, something sort of old, biblical??

Eventually your attention is pulled back to Allison 

"Were you staring at Isaac?"

Isaac

That makes sense

"Uh, yeah no, I just spaced out for a second…"

You get that bubbling feeling that something is coming really quickly

"Come on, we should get to class." You drag them away, walking in front of them

You're right once again, as Scott McCall rounds the corner looking for Stiles and Isaac

"Hey we need to-"

He cuts himself off, distracted by the scent he picked up

It's different from any other scent he's ever encountered 

It's sweet and electric, like the first sip of your favorite soda 

"Scott?" Stiles asks 

He picks it up again, this time on Stiles 

He leans closer, sniffing him like a bloodhound 

He shoves his nose in Stiles neck, then makes his way down his torso and over to his wrist as Stiles protests

Stiles’s scent immediately overwhelms the new one and Scott recoils

"Dude, don't do that in public!" He hisses, catching the strange looks from the students passing by them

"Or in private- or ever!" He corrects 

He looks back at Scott, whose pupils are super dilated 

"What… what was that?" Scott wonders regarding the intoxicating scent 

"Yeah, I was going to ask you the same thing," Stiles grumbles, thrown off by the odd (and almost intimate) gesture 

For the rest of the day, whenever he starts to clear his head, he'll catch that scent again, completely pulling his focus away

Meanwhile, you've found at least 3 people with that same weird energy as Isaac

It doesn't feel bad, not right away at least 

But it's really really strong 

It’s strange and overwhelming

Between how exhausted you are from all your magic lessons and how hard it was to keep your powers under control at school

AND the fact that you spent basically all day half blinded by people’s auras and energy 

You’re totally exhausted

And you don't have time to unpack that today

So naturally as soon as you start to sense that weird energy

Especially that one particularly strong source of it

You pivot and head the other way

You're sure Lydia and Allison must think you're crazy by now but they don't seem to be too phased

Much like with Stiles, you get the sense they’ve seen a lot of weirder shit

And your instincts are never wrong

You know, the whole psychic clairvoyant witch thing

So by the end of the day, you’ve avoided it thus far, and you start to head with Allison and Lydia to the parking lot

You stop suddenly,remembering you forgot your wand in your locker

There’s no way you can leave that at school, so you run back inside, telling them you’ll be right back

Meanwhile, Scott has spent all day chasing down every hint of that scent he possibly can

He’s about to give up when he smells it at the end of the hallway, just around the corner

He was on his way to lacrosse practice

But honestly he couldn’t care less about that right now

He starts running, desperate not to lose the scent again, or lose control

You tuck your wand somewhere safe, then you feel it seconds before it happens

The hair on the back of your neck stands up

Your stomach drops and you get that feeling that something is about to happen

And you feel the strong as fuck super intense energy barreling towards you 

A strong chill runs down your body

You turn around right as Scott pins you to your locker, eyes glowing red and as big as the moon, pulse racing

He’s breathing hard, fanning warm over your face

And god, the world shifts and everything makes sense

A shiver runs down his spine, and yours in tandem, and he has to physically hold himself back from kissing you everywhere, from pressing his face into your skin to breathe in your intoxicating scent

The logical part of his brain, the human part is screaming at him not to scare you, stop being weird, at least introduce himself and ask for your name

But the primal part, the wolf part, is too loud

He didn’t know he could feel so protective, so possessive over someone without knowing them

His wolf brain insists he does know you, you’re each other’s…

Each other’s…

That’s it

You’re each other’s

You’re his and he’s yours

God, he’s yours

And he is drawn to you

It’s like you shoved a bear trap in his chest and are pulling him closer and closer by the chain

And he’d let you

He wants you to

Fuck he wants to kiss you

At the same time, you’re trying not to fall over from the sudden force of emotions this guy is feeling for you

You can physically feel how badly he wants you

How much he desires you

Like you’re the only thing that matters

And fuck that weird energy is radiating off of him so close to you

It’s definitely not bad or malicious

You can tell that much

But it’s really really fucking powerful and needs to be treated carefully

The combination of all these things is making you kind of dizzy

And when you look at him

Really snap out of your thoughts and look at the guy pinning you against the wall

Fuck

He’s hot

He’s really hot

His breath over your face in little puffs is hot

It’s all too much

You feel yourself start to fall

You pitch sideways into his arms, blacking out before you can say something or sit down

Scott catches you as you begin to slump against him

Everywhere you touch, he lights on fire

He holds you gently, nuzzling his face against you, finally allowing himself to bask in your addictive, intoxicating scent

You don’t respond to his touch, and he can sense your pulse slowing down

“Fuck!” he growls, snapping out of it and realizing you passed out

He sniffs you closer 

You smell okay, so it's probably nothing serious 

But he has to get you somewhere safe

“Scott?”

Stiles’s voice echoes down the hall

“Scott!” he sees Scott clinging to your unconscious body, eyes glowing and teeth bared

A low growl emanates from his throat as a warning and Stiles freezes in his tracks

He doesn’t think Scott has ever growled at him like that

He barks at Stiles to stay away from you on instinct

A moment passes and you still haven’t woken up yet

He starts to worry

“We need to get to a doctor,” he mutters, suddenly charging past Stiles, with you still in his grip

Stiles chases after him, making a mental note to talk to him about how fucking weird he’s being right now

One very tense jeep ride to Deaton’s later, you’re laying on a table slightly too small for you as Scott rambles, explaining how you passed out

Deaton’s not exactly sure why he’s examining a human and not an animal or supernatural creature, but Scott is way too worked up for him to be hung up on details

Derek had somehow gotten wind of what happened, and is waiting for Deaton to confirm you’re okay so he can give Scott the lecture of a fucking life time

He got a panicked call from Scott’s stupid friend, and now he has to clean up another one of their messes

He’s so ready to yell at Scott, but the second he walks into the building, he smells it

His stomach drops

He runs into the back, throwing open the door, and is overwhelmed by the smell of the mate bond freshly formed between Scott, and you, who’s still lying unconscious

He tries to drag Scott out of the room to talk, but Scott refuses to leave your side, growling and snapping at him

“Okay,” Derek says, “I really didn’t think I was going to have to give you the talk so soon, but…” 

Stiles and Scott protest, while Deaton looks even more uncomfortable than he already had

“Not that talk!” Derek snaps, “...The mate talk.” 

“The mate talk?” Scott asks, “Like…” his words hang unspoken in the air

Derek nods

“Yeah.” 

Using every ounce of willpower in him, Scott manages to tear himself away from your side to step out of the room and talk to Derek, but he insists on standing right outside the door so he can watch you through the window, Stiles following behind him

He’s barely able to pay attention to what Derek is saying

He’s so preoccupied with you

You look so vulnerable on that examination table

It’s not like he thinks Deaton wouldn’t take great care of you or anything, he just wishes he was there to make sure first hand that you’re okay

He doesn’t like that he’s not next to you right now

It brings on a heartache, a devotion he hasn’t ever felt before

“For fucks sake, Scott, pay attention!” Derek snaps, realizing he’s been spacing out

“I’m listening!” Scott counters, and tries to focus on what Derek is telling him

He’s glad Stiles is there to retain the information he’s missing 

It’s like his brain is a sponge that’s been soaking in a bucket full of you, it can’t hold on to anything else

He just wants you to be okay

In the depths of your sleep, you make a mental note to thank your aunts for giving you that book on astral projection (among many other witchy texts and spellbooks) for your birthday 

You flex your hands, feeling them tingling warm with magic, then wiggle your feet, tingling the same way

You continue to gently separate your astral form from your corporeal form, and the dream you had been  having shifts

You’re in what looks like the back office of a vet’s office, a guy in a lab coat stands near you looking concerned

Gently, slowly, you get up and creep towards the door

You watch a rugged looking man with dark hair, and that same energy, explain something seemingly important 

“For fucks sake Scott, pay attention!” 

You look over at Scott, who’s looking back at where you’re presumably still asleep in the back room, and the guy keeps explaining what’s going on

Mates are a rare connection, usually made by alphas, and it’s even more rare for an alpha to have a mate that’s not a werewolf, he tells Scott and Stiles

You look up at Scott

He’s a werewolf

And an alpha

That makes sense, you think, it confirms the feeling you’d had before but couldn’t put into words

With a fresh mate bond (which is what you have) being separated can be painful, and even fatal, so until this calms down you’re basically going to be joined at the hip

You’ll form a deep connection, possibly even some sort of telepathic bond, but most likely you’ll just need to spend enough time together, make sure you’re both doing okay

He’ll probably feel possessive and territorial over you, that’s normal, but it’s also important to keep those feelings in check

Scenting can help with that too

“There’s also the issue of, uh,” Derek looks around awkwardly

He knew he would need to explain ruts at some point, and now that Scott found his mate, he needs to tell him before he gets his first rut

But he feels like now is really not the time or place

“What?” Scott asks with a blank stare

He really has no idea what he’s getting into

“Come by my place this weekend, I’ll tell you then.” 

“Okay,” he says, clearly antsy, glancing back at you, “if that’s everything can I-”

“Fine,” Derek sighs, warning him not to scare you, “and don’t come on too strong!” 

Scott opens the door, rushing into the room

In an instant, you feel yourself getting pulled back to your body as the scene goes dark

You open your eyes, lying on the table, Scott right next to you

“Oh, you’re awake,” he says, breathing an obvious sigh of relief 

“I’m… Scott, by the way,” he beams down at you, utter adoration obvious on his face 

“I know,” you smile, turning to the others, “Can we have the room?” 

It’s more of a statement than a question, and Stiles, Derek, and Deaton awkwardly shuffle out

You’re sure Derek will be able to hear everything you’re saying with the whole werewolf hearing thing, so you choose your words carefully, wanting to keep at least some cards close to your chest

You know there’s not much you’ll be able to hide from him, what with you being mates and all, but you’d like to be a little strategic about how you break some of this to him

He’s still gazing at you, beyond enamored, and it’s like his whole world has shifted

His center of gravity no longer rests an inch below his navel, now it’s wherever you are, and he feels himself swirling and orbiting around you 

You’re the center of his universe

You take his much larger hand in yours and his chest squeezes as the breath is pulled from his lungs

He smiles again, he’s been doing that a lot more around you 

“I know you’re a werewolf,” you start slowly

His stomach drops

“But it’s okay, I’m not freaked out or anything. I actually have something kind of weird to tell you too, but,” your eyes flick over to the door, “I don’t think this is really the ideal time or place.”

“Okay,” he breathes, waiting for you to continue so he can hear more of your voice, sweeter than honey and as soothing as a cozy blanket

“I know we can’t really be far apart because of the whole…” you motion between you two, “mate thing, so if you want we can go back to my place and catch each other up a little?” 

He stares at you as you talk, focus split between your words and how wonderful it is to be around you, and a moment after you’re done he agrees

“Yeah, there’s probably a lot to talk about,” he says with a chuckle

On your way out to the car, you send an incoming spell to your aunts with a quick flick of your wand

It’s a simple spell that tells the recipient something’s coming, mixed with a little bit of the sender’s intention and sometimes a short message, so they can tell if it’s anything dangerous or not

The message you mutter under your breath is “big news, we’ll be home soon, get ready” 

You tuck your wand back into your boot as Scott opens the door of Stiles’ jeep for you, helping you in and buckling your seatbelt for you

Your heart flutters a little at the gesture

Stiles gives you both a ride since he had been your ride over, now under significantly less stress than he had been during your previous drive to Deaton’s clinic

Scott is glued to your side the whole time, radiating heat against you

You’re both sitting in the back, and Stiles grumbles something light hearted about Scott already ditching him for you

A while later, Stiles drops both of you off at your house

It looks slightly out of place in beacon hills, with its looming victorian frame and tall turret protruding into the otherwise clear sky

Various lawn decorations and ornaments made of heavy metals and deep jewel tones (all enchanted and serving a purpose) decorate the yard, kept company by the occasional gnome 

The inside, as Scott will soon find out, is decorated in a similar fashion

Deep, rich jewel tones with eclectic prints and patterns, heavy velvet drapes, and a lot of celestial imagery and detailing cover every room, with books and nicknacks tucked away anywhere there’s space for them

You can sense your aunts freaking out a little, catching a spell book flying across the room through the window

They’re not sure what kind of trouble you got in so soon, but they’re ready to do whatever needs to be done to help you out

You open the door, and everything stops in its tracks

Most of it was out of sight, but you see a few things that had been floating about drop to the floor or skitter to their place on a table in a way that your aunts hope is inconspicuous 

They pause in their tracks about to greet you, when they see Scott

Both of your aunts, and the black cat sitting on the couch in front of a soap opera playing quietly on tv all stare at him curiously

After a moment, aunt Zelda’s eyes go wide in understanding, and she nudges Hilda, who catches on as well as you greet each other

Aunt Zelda addresses you, happy that your home, “and who is this?” she asks, motioning towards Scott

You smile

“Aunt Hilda, Aunt Zelda, this is Scott. He’s my boyfriend,” you say

Scott almost feels dizzy

He really likes being called your boyfriend, much more than he thought he could

He wishes he could hear you say it again

“He’s a werewolf.” you state simply

Scott’s eyes flare, and he looks down at you, what the fuck, dude?? Written all over his face

“Oh,” your Aunt Zelda says, trying to sound surprised

“Is he?” Hilda says rhetorically 

“So, he’s already familiar with all kinds of magic and supernatural stuff. It’s nothing new.”

They let out a sigh of relief, and all the magic that had been ground to a halt flies back to life

A pot in the kitchen starts stirring itself, the items that had been flying around make their way back to their places on shelves and drawers, a broom in the hallway begins to sweep up by itself 

Scott is sure the shock is evident on his face and you giggle, sounding like music from the heavens 

“Scott, these are my aunts, Hilda and Zelda. They’re witches.”  

“Oh,” he says, nodding

That makes more sense

“And I am also a witch. So,” you turn between Scott and your aunts, taking out your wand and flicking it with a swish. The book on the table in front of them flips a few pages, and the letters rearrange themselves with a glimmer into the word mates. Their eyes widen in understanding. “Now that all the cards are on the table, Scott and I have some homework to do, so we’re going to catch up a little and take care of that.” 

“Sure,” Zelda says with a smile, “let us know if you need anything, Scott.” 

“Peanut butter is in the pantry, and I think we have some bone broth in the freezer if you want to-” Hilda says, starting to make a gnawing motion before Zelda smacks her arm

You’d expect nothing less, and you’re relieved as Scott chuckles at the dog jokes

You start to bring him through the living room past the couch to go up to your room and talk a little

You’re a witch

You have a wand and (presumably) spell books and can do literal magic 

Okay, he can totally handle that 

He’s dealt with weirder stuff 

Honestly, he can feel deep in his bones that nothing can pull him away from you

This is nothing more than a slight curve ball

And he actually thinks it’s really fucking cool

He’s processing what he’s seen since entering your house, and it makes sense, he thinks

He’s sure he can handle this, he doubts after all that there’s anything else in the world that could shock him

You pass by the couch, and he hears a deeper voice let out a petulant whine

He turns his head, seeing the black cat who’s been sitting on your couch the whole time

“Is he going to make the whole house smell like wet dog?” 

The cat just spoke

“Gag me.” he groans with a roll of his eyes

“Salem!” you exclaim, dragging Scott away

Okay, maybe that will take some getting used to 

“Sorry about him,” you say as trails after you up the stairs. Your voice is low and intimate, and he feels that deep connection to you again

Everything in him pulls him towards you, towards you warm embrace

Then you gently hold his arm to guide him into your room, flashing a sweet smile his way that makes his chest squeeze and his stomach flip

He’s sure he can handle anything as long as he has you

#scott mccall x reader #teen wolf x reader #scott mccall #teen wolf #scott mccall x witch!reader #witch!reader