#but dylan asking if he did good might just be better

[sgt-dignam]

#the quarry #the quarry spoilers #thequarryedit #supermassive games #ryan erzahler #dylan lenivy #gameedit #yes the line is good #but dylan asking if he did good might just be better

[eddiernunson]

Really Drives Me Mad | Bfs Dad!Eddie Munson x Reader | 18+

Master List | Next Part

My best friend tells me that he's a keeper

I really like Dylan a lot But Dylan's dad He really drives me mad With his faded tats Sings in a cover band Yeah he's super hot with his ripped dad bod Oh my, oh my god I like Dylan a lot But oh god I love Dylan's dad

I know y'all weren't expecting this... Well neither was I. It like invaded my mind and begged me to write it. (this is the dirtiest thing ive ever written.)

Word Count: 7.5k

Summary: You've been dating Dylan Munson for a little bit, and it's going well, or at least you feel like it is. Despite everything right with Dylan you can't help but feel uneasy...then you meet Eddie Munson, his dad... and find yourself wet at the sight of him. (reader is in her 20s, Eddie probably in his 40s or so)

Warnings: masturbation (both), voyeurism (both), lot of perv!Eddie, reader ends up cheating, just some dirty stuff. MINORS DNI.

As you sit cross legged on your best friend’s garage couch mindlessly watching some Netflix while she took another hit, your phone dings, a text message you’ve been waiting on.

“Ooh, speak of the devil.” She teases you, putting the bong aside to peek at what Dylan texted you. You roll your eyes at her, answering him to pick you up in the morning. “What did he say?”

Her eyebrows were wagging over-exaggeratingly, and you narrow your eyes. “Just asked when I wanted to get picked up for our trip to the beach tomorrow.”

“Are you excited?” She asks, her voice suggestive and you can hear more excitement in her voice alone than you felt about the trip.

“Yes.” You lie to her, because if you told the truth, you knew you’d hear about it.

Dylan was a good guy. You met him through a singles mixer you went to for shits and giggles and ended up meeting him. He had no business being there, his league was not the type of girl to go to a Fajita style mixer even for laughs. He was so overwhelmingly better looking than every other guy in that mixer that scooping him up before anyone dug their claws in was the logical thing to do.

It wasn’t that you didn’t find him hot.

Dylan ended up being almost everything you said you were looking for. Stable. Ready for commitment. Willing to go the extra mile.

He was stable in every way it takes most men into their 30s to figure out.

You knew he was a rare find as someone dating in your 20s. Yet, there was just something missing.

It wasn’t anything you could describe, and each time you had expressed the feeling people seem to dismiss it, claiming it stemmed from every failed relationship you’ve had. Logically, you should be head over heels over this man who is so sweet and willing to do the most.

But the feeling just nagged at your skull.

For the sake of not feeling guilty and seeing that same bug-eyed expression on your best friend you lie. It felt weird to have to lie to her just to seem grateful for what life has provided to you on a silver platter. So, until an actual reason for this hesitancy presents itself, the dates and the heavy make out sessions and whatnot will continue.

The ego boost he provides when he sends you drooling emojis when you send a bikini selfie for what you’re wearing the next day certainly doesn’t help your case.

“I’m so glad you found him, he’s so sweet.” She mentions off-hand.

You nod, gritting your teeth.

-

Dylan is on time, as always, prompt and proper to pick you up from your apartment. He texts to let you know he was outside, and you grab your beach bag of snacks and your towel and do a final assessment in the mirror.

Cute pink bikini that hung by a string sitting high on your hips, barely hidden by the long cut out dress you wore. Your bag matched the bikini, and you wore some tiny sunnies to put the whole look together. If you’re gonna date someone as good looking might as well look the part.

As you approached his chevy truck he was animatedly bug eyed while looking at you, his brown eyes popping out of their socket while he drummed his steering wheel. His zest and energy for life was always so contagious. You smiled at him, your cheeks burning as you climbed into the passenger seat.

“Hi baby.” He greets you, kissing you softly. You find yourself grinning into it.

He pulls out onto the main road for the forty-five-minute trip to the lake most people go for a weekend getaway. About five minutes down the road, Dylan pats his cargo shorts down real quick and grunts in disappointment.

“What?”

“Forgot the parking pass for the beach lot. I literally got that for fifteen dollars so I wouldn’t have to pay twenty at the till.” He explains, making a sudden left turn.

You’ve been to his house before, and he usually takes you there when his dad is either at work or just not home. You weren’t sure why, his dad seemed like a decent dude.

(From what you’ve heard anyway)

Maybe, like you, he wasn’t ready for meeting the parents yet.

“Oh, I think my dad will be home around now. Hope that’s okay.” He says, as if you had just spoken aloud. “I think it was time for you to meet him, anyways.”

Shit. Nope. He was ready. You were no where ready for him to meet your mom, who already loved him just from your best friend’s descriptions.

“Oh. Sure.” You glance down to your outfit, something worn not knowing you were about to meet parents. “Are you sure I’m dressed for that though?”

“My dad has met girlfriends in worse positions.” Dylan laughs. “Trust me. This is a better meeting.”

This helps you very little.

Five minutes down the road he pulls into the starter home he and his dad have been living in his whole life, a sweet little bungalow with three rooms and two bathrooms. It was by no means anything to cough at, certainly impressive for a mechanic, but Dylan seemed to behave incredibly sheepishly every time.

Dylan pulls in, and your heart races as you see his dad’s truck in the driveway. As Dylan gets out to open your door, he can feel your nervousness. “Can I just stay here?” You ask him, unsure why he needed you to go in for a pass in the first place.

“Oh I promise he doesn’t bite.” He jokes.

You give him a weak smile, holding his hand as you walked to the front door. The door doesn’t need a key, swinging open and the bright sunlight giving you both a shadow against the hardwood flooring. Dylan walks in, calling for his dad’s name. You squeeze his hand tighter out of nervousness. Eventually the sounds of his creaky steps are heard from the kitchen where Dylan is scanning for his pass, signalling his father coming down the steps.

You were facing towards the stove across the island counter, watching Dylan go through the drawers for it.

“Woah, thought you’d be halfway to the beach by now, you were so damn excited.” You hear his dad’s voice, and there’s something about it, his tone leaning towards a tease that enticed you to turn your head towards him.

Your jaw dropped. Or it didn’t. Certainly felt like a moment for your mouth to open in amazement. In a split second you knew where Dylan got his good looks, and it was only a fraction of how mouth watering his dad was.

He wonders in with sweatpants low on his hips wearing a band t-shirt and his long curly hair was wet from a shower. As he shuffled by to the fridge, the scent of aftershave invaded your nose and somehow it just went straight to your core. He was certainly fit even for a dad, slight dad bod but nothing to poke at, you could tell he worked with his hands.

“Forgot my pass.” He mutters, looking through another drawer.

“I saw it this morning, so I put it in your bag as you were heading out.” His dad mentions off hand, getting the ingredients for a bowl of cereal out. As he lifted his hands over his head revealing a tattoo on his tummy and the treasure trail saliva entered your mouth like water bursting through a man-made dam.

“Seriously?” Dylan dead pans. He turns to you, and you switch your glance to seem innocent like you haven’t been eye-fucking his dad. “I’m gonna go double check it’s in there. Just stay here be right back.” He kisses you on the forehead and leaves without giving you a chance to protest.

“Nice, to meet you, by the way.” He says in a gruff voice as he pours the sugary cereal into the bowl.

“Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Munson.” Your voice sounded strained; you were hoping you were just imagining it.

He lets out a noise in disgust, his face scrunching up comically. “Oh god. Don’t call me that. Call me Eddie. Never Mr. Munson. Gross.”

You smile closed mouthed at his genuine disgust for it, and Eddie presents a smile as if your laughter was the long-term goal. “Nice to meet you, Eddie.”

“Much better.” He praises you, and it might be the closest thing you’ll ever get to the kind of praise you wanted from him, the kind where you find yourself on your knees in the kitchen, but you happily accepted it. Any crumbs you would happily take.

He could spit on you, and you would thank him.

Oh. That’s…new.

That wasn’t something you felt with Dylan at all. If Dylan had decided to spit on your face during sex, you would call the police. It would turn you off so fast you would kick him off you.

“Going to Lake Maureen?” He asks you, supposedly making small talk.

“Nope.” You tell him. “Museum.”

Eddie tilted his head, and from his shoulder’s shaking and the slow smile you could tell he was laughing.

“Yes.” You affirm.

“Where did you meet again?” Eddie asks as he puts away the milk, his voice seeming to extend from a thought he doesn’t share.

“Oh, a mixer.”

“Not the church mixer.” Eddie tilts his head, seeming genuinely fearful it was the truth.

You confirm that yes, it was the church mixer.

Eddie grabs a mug to pour the coffee you hadn’t noticed had he put on. As his hands cup a graphic mug you couldn’t see the comic for, you see the silver rings on his fingers and if your core wasn’t heated up before, it certainly was now.  He leans forward, taking a sip of straight black coffee for a minute. “Sweetheart. You’re far too pretty to be going to a goddamn mixer. No wonder he was so fucking enthralled when he got home that day.”

You feel your face heat up at the nickname followed by him calling you pretty. Your thighs squeeze together as you attempt to force your heart back into your chest where it belonged. Somehow your extremities were freezing, and all the heat was centered in your pussy, just soaked from his presence alone.

He could tell you weren’t taking the compliment seriously. “Seriously. If he fucks it up and you end up single again no more fucking mixers for you.”

“Not like I had any more choices.” You defend yourself, not knowing why his insistence turned you on so much.

Eddie rolls his eyes as if he didn’t believe you. His mouth opens to tell you something, and the sound of Dylan bursting through the front door seems to cut him off. “Oh, you should’ve told me, we could’ve been almost there by now. Come on, baby! See you dad!”

The door slams, and you guessed you were supposed to follow him. “Um, you were gonna say something?” and the mystery is just too much for you.

“Oh. Was I? Totally forgot.” Eddie shrugs, putting his coffee mug down, having chugged that entire cup within the conversation. “Have fun.”

He scoops another spoonful of sugary cereal in his mouth, the dimples on his face prominent but the smile devious.

That smile would haunt you for the next twelve hours.

-

The trip with Dylan was alright, he swore up and down it was the best trip and it just brought you both closer as a couple. You probably would’ve agreed. A trip to the beach with Dylan Munson sounded enticing and sexy and adventurous for the most part until you met his dad.

Now thoughts of his flexed forearms has he gripped the counter while talking to you, wet hair smelling beautifully of the musk shampoo he used invaded your mind. Dylan fingering you on the beach under your skirt was yes, smoking hot, but as you imagined a certain someone else doing the same it brought you to your orgasm much quicker and much harder. Dylan figured he must be doing something right.

Guilt evaded you as you knew what the hell you were doing was wrong. You now had an excuse to get rid of him, you were far more into his dad than you ever were into him, and it should’ve been a sign.

But if you broke up with him now, you wouldn’t be able to see his dad. Yet as you took a walk down the shoreline into a cave and your eyes close picturing certain ringed fingers gripping your hips as Dylan did it made the sneaking off and the public sex that much hotter.

Seems you were sluttier than your initial sex life led you to believe. Turns out, you just haven’t met a man you wanted to be slutty for. Public sex seemed fun in theory, always so nerve wrecking in practice.

Public sex with Eddie felt like you wanted to get caught with him, fully enjoying his cock and letting people see. Voyeurism mixed with public embarrassment was suddenly hot and you got so into it that Dylan expressed how excited he was to fuck you on the next hike you took together, something he has expressed much interest in, but you denied bashfully every time.  

Because with Dylan sex wasn’t all encaptivating. Sure he could make you cum, but you were never ready to rip off his clothes in a heartbeat. The moment you saw Eddie your fingers started to itch for that damn low sitting sweatpants for them to droop just a little…bit…more.

Dylan drops you off with a romantic wet kiss, and you walk into the door of your apartment in a daze. Before you can even think about it, you find yourself on your bed, your skirt around your ankles and two of your fingers down your bikini bottoms.

You start to take them off but there’s a voice you picture saying, “No, no. Keep them on like the whore you are.” It was not Dylan’s.

You listened to it, pretending to rub your clit in front of him watching. You could see a wild eye on his face, picturing him not being able to touch you driving him mad. The heat that expands into your pussy from that thought alone drives your hips for more friction. “Oh so fucking needy, yeah?” You imagine him saying to you, and fuck, you couldn’t not think of him being good at dirty talk. “Need this cock, don’t ya?”

The image of him slowly working the elastic waist-band of his sweatpants made you moan aloud, needily grinding on your own fingers.

“Too damn bad. You’re just gonna have to make yourself cum, like the slut you are.”

The slight foreplay you were accidentally given all day through your own imagination mixed with how fucking wet you were brought you to a quick orgasm, fluttering in your extremities as you continued imagining the wild eyes on Eddie’s face or the firm voice as he didn’t give you a choice on your dating pool.

This was the first truly earth-shattering orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life. One that you truly had to recover from…and it was from just picturing this man.

Something in you wanted the real thing, and you were terrified of how willing you were to go through with it, and equally as terrified of going through life wondering what it could’ve been like

If sex with Eddie Munson was as good as the orgasm you gave yourself, you might have to be Dylan’s stepmom, because you just found what was missing.

-

“Hey baby.” Dylan says, welcoming you as he opens the door.

You hold your pillow and a duffle bag sits on your shoulder for a sleepover, and the shorter shorts with a tank top you wear signalling you were ready for a night in. As you pass by him, Dylan gives out a low whistle to how well your ass is shown off in the pair of shorts you wore. They were so well fitting he could see you were either wearing a thong or nothing, but you could tell it turned him on. While this gave you a confidence boost, he wasn’t the target audience.

When you requested the sleepover Dylan warned you his dad would be there. Good. You assured him that would be fine. That was the goal.

“Hi, sweetheart!” Eddie calls down to you, and the smile invades your face before you could stop it.

“Hi, Mr. Munson!” You call out, and the sound of gagging is heard. “I meant Eddie!”

“Oh, I forgot he gets everyone to call him by his first name, like a lame youth pastor.” Dylan rolls his eyes, tugging on your hand to bring you to the couch in the living room. “Movie?”

You nod jerkily. Dylan works around you, getting a blanket, popcorn, and the movie all set up. He turns down the lights, winking at you suggestively as he does so.

Less than five minutes into the movie, the beginning credits still lingering on to the actors he leans in with an open mouth, his hand making its way to your hip. With the smell of him still fresh, being able to smell him on the couch you were on, it was easy to get eagerly into the kissing. This encouraged Dylan, of course confusing your eagerness for him. He reaches down, placing two of his fingers over your clothed pussy.

You moan lightly, and he shushes you softly. Mentally you roll your eyes, because he was telling you to be quiet because his dad was home.

You were hooking up with him on his couch because his dad was home. You listen to him anyway, and he starts to rub in small circles, you moan even higher, imagining he could hear you and getting off to it. “Shh, baby.” Dylan whispers. “Oh, you’re wet. Fuck.”

He slips his hands into your shorts, leaning you down to rub your pussy and attack your neck at the same time. “Pussy feels…mazing.” Dylan mutters between the slobbery neck kisses he gives you. It was enough for you to picture him, but suddenly Eddie coming downstairs right now without knowing what you were doing got you off even more.

“Eat me out?” You ask him, and ever the gentleman he smiles devilishly at you as he crawls down. He goes to place the blanket over his head, and you stop him. “Wanna see your face.”

Okay, you wanted to see Eddie see your pussy as his son went down on you, but it made Dylan eager enough to dig in in a way you haven’t seen from him yet.

You whine from the hot pleasure it gave you, you grind on his face, the heat focused on your pussy in a way that has never happened before. The idea of Eddie accidentally walking in on you but watching instead of saying anything gets you off so easily Dylan is feeling your juices wet his chin and your ass like it never has before.

“Greedy baby.” He mumbles, placing two fingers into you and giving kisses to your thighs as he pumps them.

“Gonna cum soon, Dyl.” You warn him.

Luckily, Dylan knows it means to keep doing what he’s doing. You were close, but the sound of footsteps upstairs followed by a door closing pushed you over the edge, knowing he could very well be going to his room from elsewhere, but hoping he was at the top of the stairs.

Just the possibility of him being at the top pushed you over. “Holy shit.” Dylan mutters, crawling up to you. “Must’ve been riled up, huh.”

“Yeah.” You tell him, suddenly feeling Dylan’s boner poking the inside of your knee. “Mere, I wanna help you.”

“No, I wanna fuck you, let’s go to my room.”

His room…down the hall…where there’s a better chance he could hear you. “Sure!”

-

Eddie Munson was sure there was something out to get him. The moment your pretty fucking face greeted him in his kitchen when he wondered down fresh from a shower he was sure there was something laughing at this pure misery.

The smile on your face, the smell of your sweet perfume, the way your skirt hugged your hips all melted him into one pot. When you told him you met Dylan at a fucking mixer, he wanted to shoot the person who made you feel like you were worthy of being ogled at by a bunch of singles at an awkward church mixer.

A church mixer.

He hated that Dylan liked them, always said only weirdos go there and was sure Dylan as exaggerating when he expressed how gorgeous and out of his league you were.

His heart freezing at the sight of you sit perched on one of his stools, shyly watching your boyfriend, even only from the back made him wonder if angels were real. Fuck, he didn’t ask for any proof of your beauty when offered to show your Instagram, but he wouldn’t have believed it.

He spent that entire first conversation doing everything he could to be a fucking father figure and remind himself you were dating his son. He was not hitting on you at a bar, he was your boyfriend’s dad.

Somehow that just made the forbidden part about it that much hotter.

He felt like a pervert as the scent of your shampoo jumped out at him when he passed by you for the milk, and he had wanted to stop in place and take a big inhale. Felt like an even bigger pervert as he saw the string of your bikini bottom sitting high on your hip peaking out of your skirt and he just wanted to get a shot of that underskirt.

Every thought he had about you as your wit came through the conversation, he wondered what the hell you were doing with Dylan. He loved his kid, but you deserved better than what he knew his kid would provide.

He knew about Dylan that he’d be a great husband one day. Someone reliable and trustworthy enough to build a life with.

He didn’t want that for you. He wanted you to have something mind-blowing and earth shattering, something intoxicating. Something that made you feel the way he felt just by smelling your goddamn shampoo. Your teeny tiny bikini with your hair up in a messy bun with cute little sunglasses all somehow went to his cock, and he was glad you were called over before he said something even more stupid.

Eddie rolled his eyes at your claim there wasn’t a bigger dating pool, opening his mouth to retort--“Oh, you should’ve told me, we could’ve been almost there by now. Come on, baby! See you dad!”

The door slams, and that concluded the end of that conversation. “Um, you were gonna say something?” you ask him, and he wondered if the intrigue on your face was something he just imagined.

“Oh. Was I? Totally forgot.” Eddie lies. I was gonna say I am proof there is a bigger dating pool than you would believe, sweetheart… but he knew it would’ve said something he couldn’t unsay.

Dylan told him you were coming over for a sleepover, and he and Dylan’s room were only separated by the bathroom. Eddie might use the basement for the night because he didn’t trust his perverted mind not to seek you out and look at what little pjs you have chosen to wear. He gave you space out of respect when you arrived, wondering if it was flirting when you called him Mr. Munson.

Suddenly a noise that Eddie could only describe as the doorbell to heaven (or hell with what his mind was thinking) reached the door he had kept open for this very reason.

He kept his tv playing and sneaked off to the top of the stairs, hoping to catch his kid getting you off while you moaned under the covers. The treat he was given was far better, the hand over your tight ass shorts feeling you up as you leaned back and whined all high pitched. Eddie’s cock was so hard at the moment not touching it would be like self-neglect.

He backed up against the wall by the stairs, listening to your moans as he got you off, desperately wishing it was his fingers in your wet heat. He imagined your scrunched up face as you made those stunning noises, starting to stroke himself. A pause occurs, your blissed out voice asking him to eat you out. He bites back a moan at wanting to taste you, wanting to get all up in those juices and to show him how much you turned him on. He leans over the wall into the stair entry, expecting the blanket to be covering you but instead being met with your pussy on full display.

A low guttural moan escapes his throat, fucking into his fist and pretending it was you bent over for him instead, whining the same exact way. He knew you would have a pretty pussy, but this was just un-fucking fair.

You warn Dylan you were about to cum, and that pushes him over his own edge, and he suddenly has a mess he needs to clean up all over his fist. God he wanted you to clean it, to suck it all up. He was making himself hard again and he had to flee to his fucking bedroom to wash up.

Suddenly the creak of the stairs erupts as he is cleaning himself up, and Dylan’s door closes. Oh. They’re…continuing.

Your moans are suddenly loud, and Eddie finds himself hard again as he realizes he’s hearing you being fucked. Oh, he knew you were a fucking dirty slut.

Just fucking knew it. Something that hasn’t happened since he was in his 20s, but he’s ready to jerk himself off within minutes of just cumming. “Yeah, my whore being fucked open, letting everyone hear how good she feels, oh shit.” Eddie mutters to himself, right next to his door.

He ends up finishing at the same time you did, which didn’t take either one of you very long.

-

The next morning you wake next to Dylan sleeping with a big smile on his face. To him, that was the best sex you’ve ever had together. Mixed with your adventure at the beach last week, you guys were doing better than ever.

 To you, it was only amazing because you kept thinking of Eddie fucking you and it did everything for your core. You get up in the tiny pair of pajamas you had packed, something that barely covered your ass and headed downstairs for some breakfast.

As you were leant down to assess the cereals, you heard the stride of someone come in behind you.

Eddie walks in behind you, holding back a swear as he sees your pussy peaking out of your pajama bottoms. A gentleman, and not knowing you fully reciprocated every horny thought, he ignores it and hopes you sit up.

You don’t, leaning even more forward and making a show of wondering what to eat. Eddie inhales, allowing himself to watch you. You turn around to him jerking his head away, and you felt some pride in getting his attention. “Morning.” You greet him, offering a bowl for him.

He rejects it. “Not hungry.”

“Oh.” You pour cereal, and Eddie focuses on not staring at your beaded nipples peaking through the tiny silk top you wore.

“Fuck.” He whispered, the boner growing.

“Something wrong?” You ask him innocently, and knowing this was working to your benefit made you nervous but eager.

“Lots to do today.” Like jerk off another three times.

“Like what?” You asked, taking a spoonful of cereal even though you had no appetite from the butterflies in your stomach.

“Oh not much.” Eddie wonders to you, and by reaching over you to grab the cereal he wonder if he could sneak a smell from your shampoo.

You sit up as he leans away, and you are so close you can see just how gorgeous he is. God, those brown eyes. “Do you have any…one to do?” You ask, glancing back and forth between his pretty lips and his even prettier eyes. You didn’t even know which ones to focus on.

Eddie leans in a bit to you, just ghosting over your lips. “Are you sure…that you want this?”

You nod, your eyes glazing over in want as the arousal in your gut suddenly exploded into a need.

“Cause…cause if we do this there is no going back. If your pussy…” he inhales sharply, taking a breath of your hair. “is as good as I imagine, there’s no way I’m giving you back.”

This sentence turns you into gelatin, and you lean forward to finally kiss him, his lips rough as he seemingly forgets how to act for a moment.

His brain finally catches up and he grabs onto you, inhaling and messy kisses, and grabby hands all at once as he tries to do everything he’s wanted to. Your hands make their way into his hair, and it was as soft as you pictured it. His lips messily kiss down your jaw onto your neck and you let out a whine. He smiles widely at that. “Good. One I made. Needed that.”

“You heard me…yesterday?” You asked, wetter from the idea of it.

“Heard you? Fucking came to it.” He swears, as he continues an assault on your neck. You moan in response, your hips involuntarily grinding up. “Come on, upstairs.”

You almost wanted to get caught by Dylan, but to keep it going longer you follow Eddie giddily upstairs as he trips over himself and you felt like a goddamn teenager. You follow him into his room, and the curtains were blackout curtains, the lights turned off giving the illusion of everything being dark. “Can we turn on the lights?” You ask, delicately. “I wanna see you.”

Eddie turns on his dimmer switch light so it was low, and the look in his eye as he approaches you sat on his bed had a level of lust in them that drove you wild. He leans in to give you a kiss after sitting right by you, and it wasn’t enough touching for you. You crawl forward as you eagerly kissed him back, straddling his lap. “Fuck, sweetheart, you are fucking gorgeous.” He mutters, the silk pajamas you wore bunching up in his hands as he grabbed at it. “The little strap that peaked out of your skirt tied together was just tempting me to unwrap you like a present.” He huffs, still kissing your neck. You find yourself impatient, wanting his lips back on yours.

“Fuck, been thinkin’ about you on my cock ever…” he inhales your perfume with a deep grunting sigh of content. “ever since.”

You mewl to his confessions, and he’s a much better talker than you could’ve imagined. Your hips start to grind on their own accord and with the little fabric they have between your silk shorts and his thin pajama pants you felt his hard cock fairly easily. You let out a high moan of contentment, and Eddie watches as you grind on his cock and get yourself off so easily. “Oh shit, she’s a dirty slut, hey.” Eddie comments leaning back and watching you grind yourself. “Doesn’t even need a cock inside her, will just take anything I give her with a smile on her face.”

“I would—” you gasp, the material scratching your clit in the best way, “I would take any crumbs, fuck.”

You start to moan higher and grind faster, and Eddie wanted to make you cum by his hands or his mouth the first time but you making yourself cum against his pants meant he was now using this as a fucking cum rag to smell you when you weren’t near. “Take off those shorts, doll. Wanna see your pussy.”

“Ok.” They are yanked off without a second thought.

“Oh, good listener. What a good girl.” He comments petting your hair gently as you continued to grind again with your heat now directly against his pj pants, he could feel it against his cock. “Oh, fuck, you are soaked. My fucking horny slut.”

“Horny for you.” You whimper the edge just right there.

“Whoring herself out for the Munsons.” He comments, sort of bitter he had to hear you fuck his son before he could claim you.

“Pictured it was you.” You admit, your voice in a whisper as you confessed but the high you wanted almost there.

“Fuck, did you?” He asks, the idea you only enjoying it so much because you pictured him.

“Mmhmm. Pictured you watching me, too.”

“Fucking little voyeur.” He whispers, and you nodded. He rewarded you by grabbing your hips and rutting against you and hitting your clit even harder and your orgasm snuck up on you, and the extra attention Eddie pays you as he watches it wash through you only helps the high take longer to recover from.

“Oh my god.” You whisper, a last of the intense orgasm still running through you.

“Not done.” Eddie whispers, a big smirk on his face. He lightly pushes you down and grabs your legs and puts them over his shoulder. You watch him carefully, his face looking at your pussy at a way that would usually resolve in embarrassment. Instead, it only turned you on more because it meant he wanted you just as much.

He dives into your pussy with a level of expertise that only came from years of pleasuring women. You don’t know why but you knew he got off to pleasuring others from the moment you saw him and every moan you let out he absorbed it, getting better and better as your verbal ques direct him. The heat in your pussy intensifies as he continues, fucking two of his fingers into you.

You place your hands in his hair, grinding up when the feeling of wanting to be fucked takes over you. “No, patience baby. I need to see what you look like when you squirt.”

“I-I can’t—”

“Every woman can, sweetheart. Just means you’ve had no one show you yet. Feel that?” He asks you, the heat in your pussy expanding as he continued to attack your clit and finger fuck you.

You nod, the feeling in your gut like a tidal wave of pleasure.

“Focus on it.” You do, and as you do you look up at his eyes, already staring into yours as he assesses your reactions. The heat intensifies by a thousand, and the feeling of wanting to…pee…takes over.

“Fuck—” you start to protest.

“Let it happen. Let go. It’ll feel so fucking good…baby let go. Gonna feel so fucking good.” You trust him so you let go and a gush invades your ear as a red-hot pleasure makes home in your pussy. “One more?” Eddie asks you, his thumb now messaging your clit.

You twitch under him, your bud being so sensitive. “Oh fuck, Ed. Too much.”

“No, I think you can cum again. Wanna see that beautiful face all scrunched up. Wanna take a photo.” He holds out his phone casually, and your face heats up. “Not feeling all the sudden shy, are ya? You whored your little pussy for me how is this different?”

“Its…” you manage out, already close again. “Its hot.”

“She gonna cum again, all over my fingers?”

“All over your fingers.”

“You gonna lick em clean?”

“Can we share?”

Eddie groans audibly, titling his head back. “Of course, doll. Of fucking course, now cum all over them, please.”

The third orgasm takes over your body, and it’s so goddamn good you stop responding for a minute which causes Eddie to panic. “Oh shit, you okay?”

Giggles burst out of you, the kind of post orgasm giggles you’ve only read about in spicy novels. You thought they were fake. “Can I suck you off now?”

Eddie’s eyes bulge, and he realizes his hand is still on your pussy. He taps it lightly, causing you to whine. He lifts the finger first, inserting it into your mouth. “Suck this first.” You wrap your tongue around it, keeping eye contact as you taste yourself, and this is the only time it’s ever been truly hot to be able to taste yourself. Other times it was just perplexing.

Eddie takes the other finger when you let go and starts sucking on it, he closes his eye, enjoying the taste of your pussy on his tongue. Eddie crawls onto his bed and you basically pounce him, yanking his pj pants down as fast as they go, wanting to see his cock. His eyes watch you, blown and enwrapped in lust as he watches your eagerness.

As his cock pops out of his pants, an involuntary smile spreads across your face. The head to his cock was so pink, he must’ve been horny. “Oh, pretty cock.” You mutter, and he wasn’t even sure if you were saying to him or just saying it out loud. “Oh my god, look how pink your head is. Mmm..sure seem like you need some attention.”

You take the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking on it alone but getting used to his girth. Holy he was gonna hurt even with how wet you were. You start sucking on it, taking bit by bit more into your mouth each time, eagerly making sloppy spit sounds as you did so. It wasn’t hard to generate the spit you needed, the sight of his dick made your mouth water.

Your head bobbed up and down on it, illicit sounds being drawn out of him, only encouraging you more as the feeling of his rings harsh against your scalp making you wet. You pop off him, spit connected from your mouth to his dick. You lean forward to his treasure trail, licking the hair and biting at it, something you’ve wanted to do since you saw him. You find your way back down and passed his cock and he’s about to ask when take one of his balls into your mouth, sucking loudly.

“Oh fuck, do you know how to use that pretty little mouth. Holy shit.” You roam over it with your tongue, sucking it in and out repeatedly. Then you move on to the next one, giving it its own show as well. Your mouth moves back to suck on his cock but he tugs on your hair to bring him up to you.

“Want you to face fuck me.” You say to him, still not done sucking on his cock.

“Nother time. Lemme fuck you.” He mutters, tugging on the shirt you still wore. You crawl back up to straddle him, nothing between his cock and your pussy now, but he places his cock on it so the shaft slides in-between your folds, teasing you, and causing you to whine. “Oh shit.” He works on the buttons holding your silky pink shirt, the skilled hands working fast through each one. As each one reveals another inch of skin, he feels more intoxicated by you, especially how you’re begging him to put his cock in. Your tits fall out of the shirt, and he rips the back off you, and you let it fall to the floor. You grab onto his band shirt, attempting to move it off him. You barely do it, the feeling of his cock so close inside you causing your focus to fall apart in seconds. He laughs, nearly cruel, yanking the shirt off, revealing more tattoos you’ve never seen. Your hands flutter to his chest, moving to each tattoo and touching every inch you can.

Your mission to focus and analyze each tattoo is interrupted by him maneuvering you onto your back. You lay there, open and ready for him. “Holy shit, fucking smoking hot.” He mutters, like he couldn’t believe you were here with him.

It was you who was the lucky one, he was crazy.

“You’re hotter.” You mutter, as he starts to align his cock with your entrance. “Thought of you last night, made myself cum so hard.”

“Oh fuck. What was I doing?” He asks, still teasing you with it.

“Just watching me finger myself. Talking me through it. Calling me a whore.” He groans, tapping his cock on it. “Please, Ed need your cock.”

“Beg for it, you fucking slut.” He whispers, something taking over him.

“Please, daddy. Want your cock. Want you to fuck me like a ragdoll. Please, pretty please fuck me until I’m a puddle. I just want your cock in me, so fucking bad.”

“Gonna be a good slut for me?”

“Yes..I will I promise.”

He chuckles darkly and finally…finally moves into you. Your eyes cross and a moan so erotic leaves your body and you had barely a single ounce of control over that left your mouth at that point.

Eddie puts his head into your neck, feeling your head tighten around him in pleasure as you got used to his girth and length.

“Move…please?”

“Thought you were gonna take the crumbs I gave you, slut.” He mutters.

“Fuck. Sorry.”

He smiles and your fingers fidgeting at your sides were a dead giveaway you were just needy for him to move. It made him feel fucking powerful just his cock could make you feel like this. He starts rocking, slowly and you whine from this resolve alone. “Oh what a fucking whore, just needed a good fucking.” He mutters into your ear, his hand finding its way to your neck. “Putting her pussy on display for me, showing she just needed someone to know how to fuck her.”

You say nothing in response, and his hips are starting to rock against yours harder. Your eyes reach the back of your head as you lose air, but you revel in the feeling of nearly passing out as he takes his hand off. “Holy shit, you really are just a whore.”

You nod, eyes half lidded as you looked up at his pussy drunk eyes. “Little…cockdrunk…slut…” he inhales sharply and a wad of spit hits your face and you find yourself opening your mouth for more. “Fuck—” his hips stutter at the sight of your smile when his saliva hits your mouth. He spits right into it as you open for more and you act like it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted, cause it was.

Your tongue pokes out, gasping in more need. His hips are against yours so harshly you would’ve been afraid of bruising if it didn’t fucking turn you on so bad.

“Fucking slut, you want me to cum in you? Wanna be filled with my fucking cum?” You nod, too cocked out to speak, you’ve never felt this good from penetration alone before. “Cum with me, doll.” He mutters using his two fingers against your clit as he leans in to kiss you. Within moments you flutter around him, moaning into his mouth and he lets go of your kiss, stuttering his hips and letting out a loud moan as you feel him fill you up.

His body weight collapses ontop of you, and his hands are suddenly gentle as they sweep at your bangs sticking to your sweaty forehead. “Fuck.” He mutters, giving you a dazed-out look of pure adoration. “That was much better than anything I came up with.”

You nod in agreement, words still not coming to your mouth.

“You were such a good girl, yeah?” You smile, a heat coming up to your cheeks. “You listened to me so well. C’mere.” He wraps your lips in a kiss, his cock still in you, still hard and keeping all his cum in you.

“C-can we stay like this?” You ask timidly, not wanting his cock to leave yet.

“Ooh, baby wants to cock-warm? Sure. Wanna turn on a movie until 9, when Dylan usually wakes?” Eddie asks, already leaning towards the channel changer on his beside table.

Having to tell Dylan it was pretty much over the moment Eddie kissed you hadn’t even crossed your mind, and it would eventually twenty minutes into the movie when you got back to earth. Eddie knew the realization would kick in eventually so he let you watch a movie of your choice, sitting up on his bed with you straddled on his lap after a bit of maneuvering so you could both see the movie on his screen adjacent to his bed.

Eventually, Dylan was gonna wake.

Eventually, a storm would hit.

But for now, Eddie stayed inside you to pretend like it wasn’t over yet.

-

As always i Love reading comments, replies, reblogs <3 remember reblogging is the best way to support on Tumblr

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you

#eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #older eddie munson #older eddie munson x you

[lovesickry]

- let the light in.

┈⋆⭒ lando norris x rival femdriver!reader [1.8k] ┈⋆⭒ part 1 !

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ find all parts here! ˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ contains: 18+, swearing .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ a/n: its kind of a filler.. ............. comment if you wanna be added to the tag list x

The shred of relief you felt after Miami was only due to the 2 week gap between races, time to focus more and time to maybe, slightly get on with things. Lando Norris had occupied your mind for far too long but no matter how many times you rerouted your thoughts, It wasn’t helping. You were still furious, you just couldn’t afford to be, it was interfering with everything you did now. An obsession, an annoying, tugging, nagging thing in the back of your brain. It wasn't supposed to be like this, you've been impeded before and gotten readily over it, why was time different. It had you hung on it and you hated it.

Since Miami there had been countless articles covering the crash and both you and Lando’s reaction to it. Most were fine, others were less so, but thanks to the work being done by your PR officer who told you exactly what to say when posed with any kind of question regarding the “incident” in Miami. Most unpleasant experiences were completely uninteresting and not warranting any article worthy statements. Proof of Mercedes PR managing skills as you watched Lewis laugh to himself when you spoke through gritted teeth how the crash wasn't “anyone's fault”.

Lewis was amazing, you couldn't have asked for a better teammate. Always calm, always kind and always supportive. He was the first to comfort you after Miami and the first to compliment your driving rather than your "composure". Sadly you couldn't spend every moment with Lewis and when he got some world champion privileges, like picking and choosing his media days, you did not. Which meant on Thursday when it was told to you who would be in press together you nearly had an aneurysm because it would just be you and the 2 McLaren members. Of course, of fucking course. Where was Lewis, anywhere but here. You wished you could’ve gone with him. Maybe when you have a few world championships under your belt Toto will let you skip out on media duties.

༊*·˚ SPANISH GRAND PRIX 2022

Spain definitely wasn’t cold the first day you arrived on track, briefing with the engineers and teams before being escorted to press. You spoke with Daniel before going in, you know he has it hard with McLaren, they treat him like shit and it’s starting to show, you laughed a bit before you felt Danny go stiff and you knew who must’ve arrived.

“Hey mate” Lando pulls Danny in for a kind of high five, handshake thing. Weird.

You're still just standing there. 

“Oh hey Dylan, I didn’t know we were doing press together”

You smile weakly and nod, you know he's lying. Danny gives you a sympathetic look. 

“Sorry if they ask me a bunch of questions about my win, i know it might be a bit annoying for you” he was half joking, but it still made you fucking mad. 

He was so cocky you fucking hated it. 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll have lots to say, it is quite a momentous thing anyway, first win in formula one and it only took crashing into me."

He snorts at that and Danny gives you a knowing look.

Lando walks towards you some more and goes to open his mouth before Danny steps between you two. 

“Yeah alright, alright, lets just calm down okay”

Always the mediator. You were silently grateful as you were suddenly ushered into the press conference glaring at the back of Lando’s head and sitting down between the 2 drivers. You wished you were anyway but here as you looked out at the boppings heads of journalists and the prying eyes. 

“My question is for dylan”

Your head perked up, initially zoned out. You nod at the journalist for them to continue.

“How confident are you feeling about Spain after Miami?”

Good this was good, remaining fairly neutral. Thank you.

“Yeah, I mean, in Miami the car was insane, but I did find myself struggling just in regards to wear on the tires and grip with the street circuit a bit more, but the team is expecting great things from the car this weekend, so yeah. Fairly confident.” you nod and move the microphone away from your face to signal that you’d finished. 

The conversation flows on and you suddenly feel a hand on the back of your neck, quickly glancing next to you. You’re met with a smug Lando Norris who happens to have his arms spread out over the couch. You scoot slightly away from him and see the smirk that follows as you express your dis-comfort. You shoot him a look, which he responds to by moving closer to you and again touching the back of your neck. As his cold hands touch the skin at the back of your neck you subconsciously take a deep breath in. Was he this fucking stupid, what was the media gonna say about this shit. You couldn’t move away again it would seem unnatural, but the way his touch felt on you was wrong, you tried to not let it affect you. Not let him affect you, but it was, you try thinking about anything else, but all you can feel is his hands on your neck. He’s taunting you, playing you. His hand remains there until the end of the press conference to which you promptly flee from. So promptly in fact you have Danny chasing after you to check if you’re alright, you insist that you are and then pose the idea of dinner with him and Heidi soon, you guys hadn’t caught up in a while. He smiles at this and gives you a pat on the back before walking back to the McLaren garage as you walk to the Mercedes garage. 

On Friday There's a few team meetings before you get ready to hop into the car, the activity you had been anxiously anticipating since Miami. Hopping into the car going into practice 1 is reminiscent, it had only been two weeks but you’d missed it. Pulling out of the pit lane ready to hear the car once more. 

Practice 1 was less than satisfying, a meagre P8. However practice 2 was much more fun, as it always is, needing a little bit of warming up to things you clocked a P2. Getting out of the car for the day smiling was something that even your engineer was shocked about. Everyone had been shocked with your performance but you’d never been outwardly impressed with yourself. Maybe now it was just a reminder that the man who took your win was struggling significantly more with his McLaren than you were with your Mercedes. He got under your skin, now it was your turn to get under his.

Saturday rolled around and you had a pep in your step, you had a good feeling. The car felt great and you loved the track too. You hadn’t gone around spain too much but you’d reserved a few days to look around that weren't going for runs with your trainer. You said hi to Lewis in the morning as you sat down with the team, debriefing on yesterday’s results and car performance, Lewis had a small problem with his brakes yesterday that the mechanics said they had fixed, you raised the problem of a small oversteer but how it was not too much of an effect to your driving yesterday. You hopped into the car feeling settled and your engineer who you'd had a talk to before had advised you to “push even more”. So you did, you pushed the whole time and in doing so, pulled the car into P3, honourable but down a place since FP2. 

Sat in your drivers room, legs-crossed sitting, a ritual for qualifying, calm before the storm. You are interrupted with 2 short knocks, you thought it might be holly (your physio) so you get up and don't hesitate to open the door. You roll your eyes at the smirking fucking face you see, you close the door almost immediately to which he only opens it again. 

“Rude” he says. 

“Fuck off”

“Just wanted to wish you good luck” his voice is high and taunting.

You glare at him, you’d been doing better than him all season he’s the one who needs “good luck”.

“I should be saying that to you, considering your results in practice”

He throws his head back and laughs, acting as though you've wounded him.

you walk towards him, hoping that with the movement he’ll edge towards the exit, but he stays put, looking at you. 

You tense your jaw and walk past him, opening the door, gesturing for him to leave.

“Good luck”

He walks out with a grin on his face. What the fuck did he get from riling you up like this?

Holly, your physio finally arrives and you greet her with relief as you get prepped for qualifying. Holly was both friend and doctor as you knew her and she was always there to listen when you had drama to talk about, this specific one relating to a certain boy wearing orange who couldn’t seem to stop annoying you. She laughed at the gestures you made and stayed to talk as the PR officer came to talk to you about the Post-quali interviews and while you put on your fireproofs, telling you about her most recent life events. As you climbed into the car, still mouthing the words of the last song that played in your eyes, you wished you weren’t thinking of one thing: him. You begin your lap with a blank mind, pushing and pushing and pushing the car and the thoughts out of your mind of anything. Especially him. Its gruelling going into Q3 but you do it and your engineer is giving you points on where to push. 

“That's P4 Dylan” 

“Thank you” you say out of breath.

“Thank you”

“Great job”

You leave the track that night with a sense of satisfaction, not once thinking of him as you drive to your hotel. 

tag list:

@eviethetheatrefreak, @fairiesdowntheroad, @landosgirlxoxo,@hiraethrhapsody, @hockeyboysarehot

#source: cafekitsune #f1 #f1 fic #lando norris #f1 x reader #f1 x you #lando norris fanfic #lando x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fic #lando norris series #lando norris enemies to lovers #lando norris rivals #lando norris x you #lando norris angst

[bunny-heels]

AW2 Spoilers. About Warlin Door and what he means in the story.

gonna start this off by saying; i fully think Door is Saga's dad. and the game gives lots of implications and context for it.

Tim Breaker told Alan he'd been having dreams about Door for years, and even drew a picture of what he looked like. When asked by Alan about being related to Sarah and Deerfest still being a thing, he mentions that she helped him find a case about a man going missing in the 80s who apparently got struck by lightning at Cauldron Lake, who looked just like the sketch that he made of Door.

.

When Saga goes to see Odin, there's a paper that talks about the times he's lost his eyes. It mentions that he had it taken out 3 times. It says that the third and last time he had it was in 1988, and that "he who stands on the threshold took it from me".

There's a manuscript that gives the exact details on that very event. Odin and Tor were apparently "facing something even more powerful, something harder to define even." The person they were facing was described as "the dark one who yearned to stand in between, who has always stood in between, who would soon stand in between". It details that the brothers made a deal with this "dark one" to help him, in exchange for him leaving the family alone. The "dark one" makes sure they remember the deal by taking Odin's eye as collateral, and then he leaves in a flash of lightning Odin has been without his eye ever since.

Saga mentions that she never got to know her father, that he died before she could ever remember him, and her mother, Freya, didn't tell her anything. Odin tells her that her mother did the right thing by leaving and taking Saga with her.

Saga asks Tor about him being her grandfather and why they were distant. He apparently wasn't a good father to Freya, which he admits he was wrong to treat her like that. But also mentions that Saga's father was also causing problems for the family.

When Saga asks Tor about her dad, Tor says that "Some doors are better left closed." He explains that her dad was a "complicated bastard" and "always thinking too many steps ahead". He says "there was trouble, and then he was gone.", then says he "didn't handle it well". And that event is what caused Freya to finally separate from the family all together.

.

When Alan meets up with Door for the fourth and last time, Door seems upset with him, being genuinely irritated by what he's doing. Alan's confused and doesn't understand why he's suddenly like this. Door says that Alan is lucky to have so many people fighting for him, mentioning his wife. Alan states that he needs to get to Alice because she's in danger. To which Door says;

"She is, because of you. And so is someone important to me, someone you pulled into this. You keep opening doors, peeking in. Reaching through to get what you want, and that puts you in my path."

.

When Saga goes into the dark place and finds Tim, he gives her a page that describes how Door travels through it. She profiles Door, trying to figure out who he is. He ends up just saying this;

"A door that stands between two rooms is in both. A door that can lead anywhere is everywhere. That door is the center. He governs the currents of reality."

Saga is confused because of all the powers she's seen recently and doesn't "know who is playing who". She then goes; "Opening too many doors. This isn't important right now, I can look into it later."

.

So not only is Saga the granddaughter of the god of lightning and the grandniece of the god of war, she's also the daughter of an entity that can seemingly travel through realities without a problem and can go to any world he chooses. So it's very possible she MIGHT have this power, and that it needs to be unlocked.

This still doesn't really explain why Door seems to have a connection to Tim, why he tried talking to Dylan and telling him about the other worlds, or why he chose to keep Alan entertained from losing his mind in the dark place. There's also nothing to give context as to why Odin and Tor truly didn't like Door, because it can't have just been that they didn't like his powers. Or maybe that was it, Door was so powerful that they knew he would end up hurting Saga, intentionally or not.

It could be that Door is the true owner of the dark place, and that Alan getting mixed up in all this was terrible luck, because it did just end up hurting his daughter, to which he shifts the blame fully to Alan for writing her into the story.

Maybe Door created the dark place originally as some sort of prison for evil entities like Scratch and Baba Yaga and all that stuff, and now it's all back firing because Alan got trapped and had to use real world events to try and escape.

Tor was not kidding when he said the family was fucked up.

#alan wake #alan wake 2 #alan wake ii #saga anderson #freya anderson #tor anderson #odin anderson #tim breaker #warlin door #remedyverse #remedy connected universe #remedy entertainment #the bun talks #this ones long besties

[christopher-bangnaldoskzz]

Soft Dom Bangchan x Female Reader Sub!

Genre: 🌶️🌶️🌶️

Word count: 4,8k

Warnings: oral sex (male receiving) Passionate kissing, fluffy goodness. threats of stalking sexual content included I am going to say this is strictly 18+ MDNI fan fiction.

Summary: A sub needs a dom, a dom wants a sub but what happens when feelings overlap with contracts and love creeps in? Will a contract remain only a contract? Or are emotions like love too hard to keep in check?

A/N: would also like to dedicate this story to @daceydeath​ , thank you for always putting up with my deluluness, also thank you for putting up with my drama fill life honestly. I wouldn’t be still writing if it wasn’t for you encouraging me. Also thank you so much for writing my summary xx

"So, did you want to go anywhere in particular?" he asked, putting some space between you two. You took a moment to think, still trying to get your bearings after that intense makeout session.

"Nope," you said, shaking your head slightly and flickering your eyes to meet his gaze briefly before glancing back down at his lips. A small smile played at the corners of your mouth as you took in his features. He seemed to lean in ever so slightly, searching your eyes for anything that might change your mind. You both lingered there momentarily, suspended as if waiting to see what the other would do next. His eyes dropped to your lips and then back up again questioningly. You could feel his breath mingling with yours, the space between you charged with uncertainty. But you held your ground, and after a few agonising seconds, he leaned back again with a soft exhalation, the connection between you broken once more. “Okay…you better go start your last day.”

 You give Channie a kiss on the cheek. "Have a good day"

As you walk inside, Bec notices your arrival. "Well, well, look who finally decided to join us. How nice of you to grace us with your presence.” She says it with a smile, so you know she's just teasing.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.' You take the seat next to Noah. "Thanks for saving me a spot. What did I miss?"

Noah fills you in on the discussion so far. You chime in with your perspective, and the conversation continues.

CHAN POV

I’ve been staring at this screen for the past 30 minutes. I’m searching for the best spots to go on a date in Seoul.

“Research, huh? Looks an awful lot like you're planning a date with me! Come on, who's the lucky lady? ” Changbin crept in behind me.

“No, no,” I said, slamming my laptop shut, “it's really not a date. I'm just trying to find the right setting to describe in my song. You know I like my songs to paint a picture for the listener. I was browsing local places to get inspired” stupid Channie like you haven’t been on enough dates to know how to write a long song.

“Sure, sure, that's what they all say. We both know you've been on plenty of dates to write a good love song by now.. but whatever”, he says, taking his seat and opening his laptop.

I opened mine back up and clicked out of the window immediately. I’m going to have to think of something else.

“I heard Sky Rose Garden is lovely….for your song, of course,” Changbin said before putting on his headset.

I did a quick Google search, and Changbin was right. It was absolutely perfect. It looked quiet and romantic, but there would also be enough coverage to be as private as I needed.

Y/N POV

You heard the doorbell go off as you finished tapping the last box. “Noah, the boxes at the door go first”, you said, turning around, but the person in front of you was not Noah. “Dylan”, you spoke with such disgust.

You're just as beautiful as I remember," he whispered, slowly creeping towards you.

Your heart was racing as the memories came flooding back. You backed away slowly, your eyes darting around for any escape. "Get away from me. Remember what happened last time?" you said, your voice quivering with fear and anger.

“Take it easy. I’m not going to touch you, sweetheart,” he smirked. “I just came to see how your job hunting was going?” He had to be up to something. Dylan was not one for small talk.

“Well, if you must know, I found a job rather quickly.” But you knew Dylan too well to believe that lie. He lived for making you squirm with panic. Your back hit the cold brick wall. 

"Well, quit that job and come back to me. You were always an excellent assistant," he pleaded, though his words sent a chill down your spine.

"HA. You are so full of yourself, Dylan. I'm not leaving my new job for you," you said, trying to mask the fear in your voice. His presence alone was enough to make your blood run cold.

"Leave your new master. Come and be with me. I've changed," he insisted, but his eyes told a different story. Those dark windows to his soul showed only emptiness where a heart should be.

"Delightful. . change for the next victim," you said spitefully, unable to hide the tremor in your hands. You had to escape, but would you ever truly feel safe again, as long as he was still out there?

“What is it about him?”

“Let me see…. hmmmm… foremost, he respects my boundaries,” you snarl at him.

The whole time you were with Dylan, he never allowed you to speak about your feelings or participate in things that brought you pleasure. You were constantly on edge, jumping at every slight noise, terrified of upsetting him somehow.

“You’re really going to hold that one night against me,” he spat, taking a menacing step closer.

"YOU SCARED ME!" You screamed, your voice trembling with fear, "AND YOU WANT FORGIVENESS. Let me set you straight: I am not leaving my job for you and will not be leaving Chris for you. You got that.” Your whole body was shaking now, every instinct screaming at you to run.

"No, let me set you straight. I will have you. . even if it's the last thing I do," he growled, his eyes flashing dangerously. With that, he turned and stalked out, leaving you alone with nothing but your racing thoughts and pounding heart.

…..

CHAN POV

My hands, they, they won't stop sweating. What if, what if she hates the place I chose? I didn't even think to ask her what kind of date she liked. God, I'm such an idiot.

I see her car on the cameras, the cameras I had put in after what happened with Dylan.

There, there she is! Getting out of the car now was so graceful. But her face, her beautiful face, looks so cold. So indifferent. She walks like she's approaching a job she doesn't want. My heart is pounding. I'm sure she can hear it from outside. As she approaches the door, I want to hide, to pretend I'm not even here. But it's too late now. Too late to change anything. I just hope against hope that I haven't ruined everything before it even starts. 

“Shit… Something is wrong,” I mumble to myself.

Y/n lets herself in. “Hey,” She smiled, oblivious that I had been watching her the whole time.

“Hey…. Everything okay?” I say kindly.

“Yeah, just a tough day at work is all”, understandable due to it being her last shift. She leaned in and placed a confirming kiss on my lips.

“Okay… You Sure?” That kiss didn’t feel like it nasally would. I’m starting to get worried.

“Yes, everything is fine, Channie… Promise,” she smiled, walking into her room. “I’ll be ready in a minute, okay?” I could hear her through the door.

…….

“Is this okay to wear?” she walks into the living room wearing a tight black cocktail dress, hugging her body in all the right places. Trying to stop my cock tenting in my pants is really starting to prove to be challenging for me.

“Y-yeah”, I stumble over my words like an idiot. She blushes as she walks into the kitchen to get a drink. I walk in behind her, pressing my body against hers. “Couldn’t be more perfect?” I say, trailing kisses from the base of her ear to her collarbone.

“We are going to miss our reservation,” she giggles.

I couldn’t help but smile into the crook of her neck.

“Your right…Grab the keys, and I’ll meet you at the car.” I walk off into the bedroom and grab my wallet and shoes, also giving myself a hot minute to calm the raging hard-on I have going on in my pants.

“Pull yourself together, Chan”, I say, looking into the mirror. “It’s just a date…. why are you so nervous all the time?” it’s true, not like this is our first time meeting or anything. It is our first official date, however.

“I’ve left her waiting long enough”, I say in the mirror, brushing the imaginary dust off my shirt.

As I walk into the garage, I see y/n waiting patiently. She is so engrossed in her phone she doesn’t even see me walking towards the car.

“You sure there’s nothing wrong?” I question.

“I’m sure”, but her smile does not convince me. I’ve decided to leave it for now.

Y/N POV

Grace

“WHAT! He wants you back after everything he put you through?” You can see it now: Grace practically yells at you through the phone.

Y/n

“Yeah... he also had the nerve to ask me if I wanted to come to work for him.”

Grace

“What did Chan say?”

Y/N

“Nothing. I haven’t told him yet.”

Grace

“You should.”

Y/N

“Not tonight… it would crush him if I told him on our date…. He’s worked so hard on this.”

Grace

“Hold on…. Chan is taking you on a date?”

Y/N

“it’s part of our contract.”

Grace

“Cute never known chan to go on dates.”

Y/N

“it’s for me…. He thought I might like it.”

Grace

“Sure, haha…. It’s for you.”

Y/N

“🙄 he’s coming. Got to go.”

Grace

“Have fun…. and watch your attitude, missy.”

…..

As he approaches the car, he asks, “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?”

His read of you was so spot on that you didn’t know if you could continue to keep this secret from him. “I’m sure." You gave him a reassuring smile, facing the road ahead to avoid his eye contact. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. You knew he was suspicious and that you had to find a way to keep yourself together until you got home. 

He holds your thigh tighter than usual on the drive to the restaurant. His eyes dart back and forth to you and the road. You make no eye contact when he sighs and removes his hand from your leg to grab the steering wheel. 

To get a conversation going, he smiles sweetly, caressing your thigh again as he says, "I'm a little nervous".

“Don’t be…. I’m sure I’ll love whatever you have planned.” For the first time tonight, a genuine smile streaks across your face. You wanted him to have a good time. He has been planning this for you and didn't want the situation of Dylan coming to you at work to wreck his efforts. You are going to put an effort in for him. He deserves that.

“I really hope so.” He squeezes your thigh.

You had been so stressed out that you didn't notice that you had pulled into the most beautiful driveway you'd ever seen. You're speechless. “OH MY GOD…… is this….”

“Sky Rose Garden?” he said, finishing your sentence. “Why have you been here before?” You can tell he is starting to stress. You had never been to such a fancy place, and the thought of you being completely underdressed now crosses your mind.

“No… but the waiting list is months long … how did you get a reservation?”

“I just called,” he laughed, as it was easy. You then realised that for someone like Chan, it was, in fact, that easy. You felt a wave of envy wash over you as you learned how easy his life was. 

“Are you gonna open the door for me or what?” he fumbles for a moment before he swings open his door, racing around to yours.

“This way,” he says, extending his hand.

“Thank you, sir ... just go inside, please”, the waiter says, leading you through the large double door covered in pink rose vines.

“As requested, sir, a table with a view of the city," he says, leading you both to the table. Chan smiles, and his eyes glisten as he pulls the chair for you to sit on. He pushes it into the table as you go to sit down.

“Can I start you with a bottle of wine?” the waiter places the menu in front of you as Chan walks to take his seat.

“Yes, a bottle of champagne." As he is about to finish his sentence, you interrupt, knowing he will spend his money in an attempt to impress you.

“The house, Merlot, please.” You smiled sweetly, and his eyes shot to yours.

“Why not Champaign?” Chan says as the waiter is still standing there.

“Because it’s too expensive,” you say, looking at the man.

“Not like I don’t have money," he frowned. He was upset, but you don't need Chan to impress you with money and fame. You just want him. 

“NO... No more spending money on me,” you say as you look at the waiter.

“Why won’t you let me spoil you?” His wreckles between his eyes narrow.

“You’ve done enough already, Chan," you say; you feel guilty for everything he’s done. He is letting you move in with him and getting you a job; when you agreed to be his sub, you didn't expect him to be this invested, and you feel as though now you owe him more than you can repay. 

“Thank you.” He nods at the waiter, who leaves you to browse the menu.

“Hey…look at me”, Chan growls as he pulls the menu out of your hand.

You look at him as he leans over the table, lowering his voice so only you can hear. “I will spend my money how I choose... I want to spend my money on you… is that clear?” but you won’t accept that, and you can't. You do not deserve his kindness after keeping what happened today from him.

“No, I don’t deserve it.” You felt horrible for lying to him like this, but it was for his own good.

“Why do you keep saying that? What happened?” Just as those words exit his mouth, you hear.

“Channie”, this girl in a bombshell dress walks over to our table.

“Vanessa?” Chan’s eyes glisten, and your heart sinks. Why is he looking at her like this? Could he still have feelings for her? Channie smiles, and you look away, a wave of nausea washing over you. 

She was taller, skinnier, and prettier than you; she was an absolute hottie. You don’t blame him at all for looking at her that way.

“How have you been, Channie?” she smiled at him.

“Don’t call me that.” He frowns, turning to face you.

“Come on, Channie... don’t be like that. It’s been forever,” she whined as she practically stomped her feet like a child.

"Can't you see I’m busy, Nessa?” he growled, making her step back.

Nessa? He’s even still using her nickname. 

“I’m just trying to be nice, Channie... is that your new sub?” she said, extending her hand to shake yours. What is she doing here? Why is she so interested in who you are? 

“Don’t”, Chan growls, sending a shiver down your spine. You can see his anger rush up his neck, his ears burning.

“Okay…. Well, she is super beautiful. She smiles at you, like complimenting you was all she came over for. Just when you thought this situation couldn’t get any worse.

“Dylan”, she smiles and runs over to him. You see Chan's hand ball into fists, and he holds back, trying not to make a scene in this restaurant.

Dylan, your ex-dom, the guy begging to get back with you just a couple of hours earlier, is on a date with Vanessa Chan’s ex. After what he said this morning, this was not a coincidence, but how did he know you were here, and most importantly, how did he get a reservation this shortly? 

“Well, shit fancy running into you here." You want to slap that shit-eating grin right off his smug face.

Chan’s body stiffens as you reply, “Is it?” knowing he was doing this to toy with you. Dylan had always liked to play with his victims.

“Touchy… wow, okay…not happy to see me, I see” he’s being a real dick, but Chan is managing to keep his cool, not knowing how long he can keep this act up for.

“Fuck off, Dylan”, Chan spat, finally losing his shit.

“Or what?” Brilliant, now there will be a fight in the sky rose garden. Chan gets up from his seat and gets into Dylan's face. Vanessa just stands there.

“Wait…” Vanessa gets in between them.

“Dylan, baby, let’s go get our seats.” Finally, you’re glad one of them has some sense.

“Good idea", you nod to Vanessa.

“Think about what I said today”, he winks, walking away with his arm around Vanessa.

“What did he say?” op fuck Chan turns around so quick “Did he come to harass you today? I’m gonna fucking kill him.” he goes walking after him.

“Chan! Stop and sit down,” you said. Chan walks around, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you up.

"Let's go… you can explain yourself on the way home.” Chan passed the waiter a $100 note, pulling you out of the restaurant and into the car park.

“Sir, I-I’m”

“Save it... You are telling me everything.” You nod your head and stand in silence until the car pulls up.

Chan still opens the car door for you. He could be that mad, right? “You are in so much trouble, y/n", he growls, putting your seatbelt on. This was something he had never done before. You can see his eyes darken as he snaps into dom mode.

He closes the door and tips the man, hopping into the driver’s seat. You can feel the tension.

“Channie, please,” you say, grabbing his hand. He pulls away, saying nothing.

“I’m sorry… I should have told you," you say on the verge of tears.

“Tell me what, I still don’t know what the fuck he said to you” he is pissed, and honestly, you can’t blame him.

“He came into work today and wanted me to leave you and go and work for him.” His hand gripped the steering wheel harder, causing his knuckles to whiten.

“And you decided it was best not to tell me this.” You reach out to grab his hand again.

“No…. You don’t get to hold my hand….only good girls get to hold my hand” shit, you’ve really done it this time. You've never seen him like this. Chan was a reasonable guy, but he is big on trust, and you have definitely broken it.

“I didn’t want to wreck our date.” You hung your head in shame. The trip was silent the rest of the way home.

…..

Pulling into the driveway, Chan leans in and unbuckles you, his voice heavy, “Inside and to your room….NOW”

“I’m not a child, Chan. “You bite back. You might be his sub, but he will not treat you like a kid. 

“Well, you sure as hell are acting like one right now,” he laughed back. 

“You’re a dick,” you say, exiting the car.

“Whatever, liar?" he shot from inside the car.

You walk inside the house and slam the door in his face, fuck him. He wasn't going to talk to you like that. Sure, you didn't tell him about today, but it wasn't like it would be a secret forever. 

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you would react exactly like this,” you yell at him as he walks in the door.

“I don’t understand. Why am I always the last person to know? Do you not trust me?” You can tell it hurt him.

“You really going there?”

“Yes, I am … because you were thinking about it, weren’t you?”

“If you must know, I told him to stick it,” you said, folding your arms. He was about to open his mouth when your stomach rumbled. “Great”, you thought to yourself; he snapped out of his trance. His eyes soften as he steps forward.

“Have you eaten today?” he said, softening his anger.

“No… I wasn’t hungry,” you say, slumping your head.

“Fuck sake”, he gets out his phone.

“What are you doing?” you snarl. Unbelievably, he pulled out his phone during an argument.

“Shut up… I’m ordering you food”, he said, typing on his phone. He still ensures all your needs are met even while furious at you.

“Chan,” you say, on the verge of tears.

“This isn’t over, y/n… I’m pissed…but we will talk about this in the morning.” His jaw clenches as he scrolls through the takeout menu.

Once the food came, Chan sat and ate silently at the table. He finished his meal, got up from the table, placed his plate in the sink and went to his room, turning to you and saying, “I assume you will sleep in your own room tonight,” closing the door behind him.

……

Chan POV

I don’t think I have ever felt so angry and hurt at once. I slammed the door behind me. Running my hand through my hair. Did I just say that to her? Why was I so cruel?

The house fell silent, and I could hear Y/N’s bedroom door close. Her bathroom was just behind the wall. I walked over to it, placing my head against it, wishing I could take it all back.

I could hear her sobbing behind the wall. “You monster”, I thought to myself. I want to comfort her, just bust into that bathroom and apologise for my tone… but I can’t. I just can't do it; I would be so mad if I went in there. Who knows what I might do to her? I won't be able to control myself.

…….

I toss and turn, unable to sleep. "Shit", I mumble; I can’t help but feel like the most giant dick known to man; I look at the clock, and it’s 3 am. I feel like I'm going insane; what am I going to do with her? How do I make her trust me? Slowly, my eyes become heavy, and I drift off to sleep. My alarm goes off at 9 am. “Fuck off,” I groan as I hit the snooze button. I wonder if Y/N is up. I didn’t feel so angry now, but she was still getting punishment. I cannot let this lying to me slide.

I get out of bed and walk out of my bedroom. Fuck, what kind of punishment do I give her anyway? I’ll decide after breakfast.

I cook bacon and eggs, making extra for Y/N as a little “I’m still going to take care of you, but…. You've pissed me off” kind of thing.

I hear Y/N's door open, and her head pokes out. “Come out, Y/N “, I say in a monotone voice. She slowly leaves her room, her head lowered to look at the ground.

“I’m sorry, sir. I just came out to get food. I’ll leave you alone, I promise.” My heart dropped. Was she really going to eat in her room alone? Did she think I wanted that? I sighed, placing my palms on the bench and leaning over. It's time for me to suck it up.

'It’s okay. I’ve made you some eggs," I said, placing some on a plate for her. Y/N’s eyes lit up.

“But don’t think you are getting away with lying to me”, I snarl, knowing she will try to wheeze her way out of this punishment.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, sir”, she said, sitting down as I served her the plate. She smiles as I hand her a fork. I enjoy watching her eat, knowing she is replenishing her body.

“Well, eat up... you have a full day of cleaning the playroom”, I kind of giggle to myself as I devise one of the best punishments I have done to date.

Y/N POV

“Where did you get this skimpy maid outfit, Chan?” you said, confused as to why it was so important you wear this.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he laughed. “Now, here’s the scrubber and disinfectants …. Come see me when you’re done.”

You walk into the playroom, bucket in hand. “Okay .... where to begin?” you say to yourself.

The sheets might be a good place to start.

………

An hour had passed, and you were definitely over this punishment. “I am never lying again,” you say, scrubbing the last trail on the floor.

“That’s kind of the point.” Chan chuckles as he enters the room.

“Good job, little one, this looks awesome”, he smiles, proud of himself.

“Sir…. I haven’t finished yet,” you say, worried you’ve run out of time.

“It’s okay, princess. I think you’ve done enough,” he says, taking the brush out of your hand.

“I really am sorry, sir, for lying to you. Please let me make it up to you,” you cheekily grin, coming up with the best apology plan.

Chan’s eyes widen as you crawl over to him, kneeling at his feet. “I ah” he gulps.

"Please, sir. I want you to know it won't happen again," you say softly as you gaze up at him through your lashes, your hands trembling slightly as you reach for the drawstring of his sweatpants. Slowly, teasingly, you pull the cord loose and slide the soft fabric down over his muscular thighs, unable to resist brushing your fingers lightly over the bulge straining against his briefs. A small gasp escapes your lips as his thick cock springs free, heavy and hard, as you wrap your fingers delicately around the hot shaft. Stroking gently from base to tip, a bead of precum forms on the swollen head as you swirl your thumb over the slick slit. "I'll make it up to you, I promise," you whisper, parting your lips to take the broad crown into your eager mouth.

You grab it with one hand while you flick the head with your tongue. “god…okay”, he groans; you hated that Chan was disappointed in you; you had to make this one of the best blow jobs he’s ever had. 

Spitting down his shaft, you start to pump his massive cock. Using your tongue to swirl around his tip, allowing his dick to reach further into your mouth. 

Deep-throating was the only good thing you learned from your last master’s, and you intend to use those skills tonight. 

“I’m…sorry…. sir”, you kiss down his shaft while looking up at him. 

He clears his throat, his voice low and husky. "For what!" He moaned as pleasure coursed through his body. You couldn't help but find it a little funny that at the slightest touch, Master Chan forgets everything but the sensations you create within him. 

“Good to know,” you mumble to yourself.

You take all of him in your mouth, deep-throating his massive cock as he moans, "holy fuck". You maintain a steady rhythm, eager to bring him to the edge and taste his release.

“That felt so good”, he moaned as you got ready to retake his dick. 

Moans of pleasure escape his lips as you take more and more of his length, hungrily bobbing your head up and down. His hands find their way into your hair, gently guiding your movements at first but soon gripping tighter as his arousal builds. "Oh fuck, that feels so good, baby," he groans, his hips beginning to thrust in time with your sucking. Deeper and deeper, you take him, relaxing your throat to accept more of his hardness with each plunge. The slurping and sucking sounds fill the room as your mouth works tirelessly to bring him to the edge. "I'm so close; don't stop," he pants, his grip on your hair tightening as his orgasm nears.

A few more deep, passionate thrusts and his hot liquid hit the back of your throat, making you instantly swallow every drop of his essence.

“That’s it, baby girl”, his body shaking. You sigh as he releases your hair, your scalp tingling from where his fingers had been entwined. The passion between you in that moment was intense.

Leaning down slowly, he gently carefully moves your hair out of your face. His eyes gaze into yours as he brings his face closer to yours. You feel his warm breath upon your skin as his lips inch nearer. Ever so softly, they meet yours in a tender kiss.

A/N: thank you all ❤️ I appreciate all the love as usual please reblog and leave a like an comment.

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[ofstoriesandstardust]

you’ll lose your faith for a bit and question if she's you (b.r.b.)

a/n: i’ve been working on this for nearly a year. this is my first pride month fully confident and (mostly) open about my bisexuality. i think sometimes it gets taken for granted, knowing/being allowed to explore your sexuality at a young age. therefore, i wanted to write something i saw a little more me in. happy pride month. you’re loved and valid, no matter what label you choose for yourself. 

summary: Rebel has a life-changing realization.

title comes from “you might not like her” by maddie zahm

main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist | same mistakes-verse 

warnings: denial of sexuality, internalized biphobia, mentions of past icemav, MavDad, mentions of DADT, alcohol mentions, swearing,

word count: 4.2k

"She’s so pretty.”

Hangman shifts, turning to look at you. “I agree.”

“I mean, really, she’s gorgeous.”

“Who’s pretty?” Coyote leans over, looking at the phone. 

“Hailee Steinfeld.” You respond. 

“Second that. Why’re you looking at pictures of her?” 

“I think she was in the movie we watched last night.” Hangman responds, nodding down to his phone, looking through her IMDb.

“Oh, what movie? I’ve probably seen it, I love her.” You ask. 

“That Bumblebee movie. I don’t know, Hangman picked it.” Coyote responds, throwing his hands up in the air. 

You made a face. “God, that’s one of her worst films. Didn’t Dylan O’Brien voice Bumblebee? I can’t remember. Anyways, why would you pick that? She’s in so many better movies. Like the Pitch Perfect franchise does exist. Movie full of pretty women if I’ve ever seen it.”

Hangman turned in his chair fully, face full of confusion. “Why do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“You keep-ow.” Hangman turned, glaring at his boyfriend. Your eyes flitted between the blonde and your best friend, who had just pinched his boyfriend and was shooting him a look through narrowed eyes. 

“Okay.” You say, laughing nervously. “Moving on. I’m hungry, so... food?” 

-

“Javy, I think your best friend is gay.”

“No shit.” His eyebrow raised in question as his boyfriend shifted to sit up against the headboard. 

“Really? Did I miss the memo?” 

Javy sighs, reaching up to run a hand over his face. “No. I don’t think she knows and it’s not really my place to speculate on her sexuality.” 

Jake watched the rise and fall of his boyfriends bare chest, admiring the glint of the dog tags in the moonlight. “But?”

“But there’s a really good chance she’s bi.” 

“She ever say anything to you over the years?”

He shakes his head, shifting to look at Hangman in the eye. “No, but she’s said all this stuff, like she did this morning, over the years that has just... made me wonder. And she tries so hard to be an ally that sometimes I think she’s compensating for something.” Hangman reaches a hand out to his boyfriend, intertwining their fingers. “I tried once, about a month after we came out to the team. She was super defensive, adamant she was straight, and got pretty panicked so I dropped it. Haven’t brought it up since.” Jake catches his bottom teeth in his lips as he let out a sigh. 

“So basically she’s so far in the closet she can’t even see it?” Javy shrugs. 

“Maybe. Like I said, not my place to speculate. She’ll figure out or she won’t. That’s up to her.” 

“Yeah, but don’t you think she’d be happier? If she knew that about herself?” 

“Maybe. Maybe not. Why are you so interested in my best friend’s sexuality all of the sudden?” 

He sighs, letting his boyfriends hand drop as he moves to place his back against the headboard, crossing his arms. “Because. I remember what it was like to be so far in the closet the mere suggestion of being anything but straight made me want to run for the hills. Made me want shove anyone who suggested it off my plane over an ocean.” He tilts his head, looking to his boyfriend. “I also know that when I stopped hiding from who I was, stopped being scared, I was a lot happier. Felt a lot freer.” He swallows, reaching out to pick off a piece of lint from his sweatpants. “I also know she carries a lot of weight.” 

“I just don’t know what she’s running from. If she is, I mean. Maverick would love and support her, so would Rooster. We would obviously and she doesn’t have a thing to worry about with the rest of the team.” 

“Maybe she thinks Rooster will break-up with her. Kind of a life-changing realization, you know?” 

“Rooster’s down bad for her, he ain’t going anywhere.”

“Not if she’s not into men.” 

Javy moves, pushing himself off the headboard. 

“You really think that?” The words are sharp, a little bit defensive, and Jake winces. “You, what, think she just stays with him because she loves him but that’s not enough?” 

“No, Javy-”

“Then what, Jake? Think she’s got some internalized biphobia she’s projecting on to herself? This is my best friend you’re talking about.” 

“Maybe she is Javy.” Jake whispers and Javy roll his eyes, reaching over to grab a pillow. “Hey, where are you going?” He asks as Coyote moves off the bed and towards the door. 

“Sleeping on the couch. Don’t wanna hear this about her.” 

“Javy, c’mon, come back. We don’t need to fight about this.” Javy spins on his heel. 

“You drop it. Doesn’t matter whether she is or isn’t. Isn’t either of our places to discuss this or bring it up to her.” 

Jake sighs. “I just think that maybe she’d be happier.” 

“Regardless if she is or isn’t, she needs to figure that out on her own.” Coyote says firmly, but he’s already inching back towards the bed as Jake watches him carefully. 

He throws his hands up into the air in surrender. “Fine, I’ll drop it. Please just come back to bed.” Javy nods, already climbing back onto the mattress, bouncing softly in Hangman’s awaiting arms.

-

You’re standing at the bar, talking to Penny amidst the loud chatter of the Hard Deck when Hangman slips an arm around you. He bends closer to your ear, words hushed. 

“Hey, can I talk to you outside?” You nod, picking your beer up from the counter and waving to Penny as she moves farther down to serve other customers. You follow Hangman, weaving your way through the crowd, and once outside, you’re quick to slip off your shoes as you reach the sand. He nods his head to further down the beach. “Wanna go sit?”

“Sure.” You say, taking a sip of your beer. You follow him to a good distance away from the Hard Deck and follow his lead, settling into the sand. He sighs, setting his beer on the sand and bringing his arms to rest on his knees. 

“Listen, um, we gotta talk about something.” You swallow, setting your drink down as well. 

“Okay.” 

He sighs, rubbing his hands together. “Before I came out, before I met Javy, I was... I was very in denial about who I was. Kept thinking something was wrong with me and kept screwing all these girls just to prove I was straight. I don’t know who I was trying to prove it to, myself maybe. And that shit... it was lonely. It was a heavy burden to carry. I’m glad I don’t have to anymore.” 

You watch him carefully. Contrary to popular belief, you and Hangman were actually quite close. He’d never be Coyote but he knew when to keep it real with you and you appreciated the realness of your friendship more than anything. 

Weird how things changed. 

“How’d you know?” You hear yourself asking. You aren’t sure why. You’re straight. 

“I don’t know, I guess when I met Javy I had this oh moment. Everything about me sort of made sense. I was still a few years out from learning to deal with it but something clicked.” 

You bit your bottom lip, turning his words over in his head. You still weren’t sure why the two of you were having this conversation. “Where you going with this Hangman?”

“Do you ever feel that way? Like you have to prove something to yourself or that you’re carrying a heavy burden? Waiting for an oh moment?” You give a half-shrug, mouth gaping open. He sighs again, sitting back to rest on his palms. His gaze moves from you to the full moon on the horizon. “Are you gay?”

Your breath gets caught in your throat. You don’t respond, simply looking at him with wide eyes. He finally drags his gaze backs to you but holds firm, unwilling to back down. Finally, you force yourself to start breathing again, coughing nervously. You shake your head, looking down at the sand. “N-no, I’m not Seresin.” 

“It’d be okay, if you were.” 

“Yes, I’m very aware that it would be. But I’m not.” He tilts his head in acknowledgement and begins to stand up from the sand. All you can do is watch him. 

“Okay, well, I mean, it just wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you were into girls.” 

“I’m straight Seresin.” 

You were... weren’t you?

“Yeah, I’m sure you are.” He picks his beer up from the sand, turning on his heel to head back towards the bar. You sit there bewildered, turning his words over in your head. 

Still, there was some part of you that felt unsettled. Like Jake had prodded at something dormant just enough to wake it up.

-

You sat on your bed, trying to remember what you were doing. You groaned, running a hand over your face. A soft knock sounded at your door and you looked up to see Rooster leaning against the open door. His smile was soft but you’d known him long enough to see the concern in his eyes. 

“Hey.” You whisper softly. 

Ever since your conversation with Hangman, one that hadn’t really been a conversation at all, things in your world felt off-kilter. You felt like you were waiting for the band to snap, like for the realization to come, the thing that would change everything as you knew it. You’d been sick to your stomach most days, unable to sleep. 

Admittedly, you had always wondered. Maybe a little bit more so after Javy had come out. But there was never enough to prove to yourself that you were that you had always brushed the thought off, burying it deep down. And now it was resurfacing in waves, questions and fears drowning you. 

You weren’t... You were straight. You were sure of it.

...Right?

“-you listening?” You shake your head, eyes flickering back up to your boyfriend. His smile was still there but you could tell it was more forced than anything. 

“Yeah, sorry, just zoned out for a minute.” You say, waving a hand. “What were you saying?” 

He sighs, straightening up and crossing his arms. “Coyote told me you bailed. Third time this week. He’s worried.” 

You shrug. “Just needed some time to myself.” He nods slowly, as if he doesn’t quite believe you. 

You wouldn't believe you either. 

“Hey, are you okay? You haven’t really been yourself lately.”

“Yeah, ‘m fine.” You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear as you hear your Dad’s footsteps in the hallway. He appears just a few moments later over Rooster’s shoulder and he shifts to allow him room to lean up against the other side of the doorway. 

“Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to come out to the hangar tomorrow? For the long weekend?” You nod, even though it’s the last thing you want to do with how messy your brain has been lately. 

“Sure.” You look to your boyfriend. “Want to come with us?” Your Dad sighs, straightening up, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“Actually, I was thinking it could be just us kiddo.” 

“Oh.” You say, frowning slightly. “Am I in trouble?” He shakes his head. 

“No. Hey, you okay? You got anything you want to talk about?” 

“Why does everyone keep asking me that? I’m fine.”

Just like how you’re straight?

You brush the thought off, moving to stand up from the bed. “I beg to differ.” Rooster mutters and you shoot him a glare. 

“I’m fine. Now I’m tired so if the two of you would kindly-” You motion for them to shoo and they both sigh, exchanging a glance. 

“Its like... 7 PM.” Your Dad says, glancing at his watch. 

“Well- I’m exhausted, so I’m going to bed early.” 

Exhausted of running from who you are?

Rooster gives you a wary look before conceding, moving a few feet to give you a kiss. It’s short and feels forced and sends a wave of cold over you. He grimaces as he pulls away and doesn’t say anything as he steps back, slipping past your Dad. Your Dad sighs, stepping back and closing your bedroom door behind him. You sit back down on your bed, trying to swallow the tears.

-

You watch as your Dad swings his leg over his chair, settling back with his coffee in one hand and the paper in the other. 

Who still reads the paper?

Who denies their sexuality?

You swallow, looking up at your Dad. The two of you were meant to drive back tonight and if you wanted to have this conversation, your window was quickly closing. 

“Hey Dad?” He hums, not looking up from his paper. “Did you ever... Were you ever...” 

“Spit the question out kiddo.” He says with a chuckle, eyes still skimming over the paper. 

You take a deep breath, trying to steel yourself to ask what is a mildly inappropriate question. 

Still, you’d always looked to your Dad for guidance and if anybody would have some to offer you right now, it’d be him.

“Were you ever with a man?” 

He grunts. “Where is this going?” 

“Humor me, please?” 

“Does this have to do with why you haven’t been acting like yourself lately?” 

“Yeah.” 

He sighs. “Yeah, I was, but-”

“Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. My real question is- Well, how did you know? that you were like... interested.” 

He tilts his head as he finally meets your gaze. “My story is a bit more like Jake’s. For so long, I hid any part of me that thought I might feel that way and then-” His face raises in a smile, clearly thinking back to some happier memory. “Then I met someone who changed all that. Everything just felt right with him and suddenly that part of myself I tried to keep hidden from myself and the world clicked into place. It stopped feeling like something was missing.” 

A silence falls between the two of you a you turn the words over in your head and he turns back to his paper. 

“Were you and Ice ever...” You wave your hand as he looks up at you, pausing mid-sip. “Together?” He sighs, and carefully sets both of them on the table in front of him. He eyes you carefully from where your back is pressed up the feet of the other chair, making a home on the rug placed in the hangar. 

“Yeah, we were.” 

“Oh.” You hear yourself saying, ears ringing with finally getting the truth after years. 

“That’s it?” 

You shrug. “Well, I mean I always suspected but I don’t know-” He nods, still looking at you ever intently as you begin to pick at the rug. 

“Yeah, we got together after that photo of us was taken. You know the one.”

You did.

“Anyways, we were together for a few years, but- it was hard. Especially with Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. I’ve loved your godfather, and I did until the day he died. But it was hard, being in the Navy, dealing with Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, and we both agreed it was better to love each other and still be friends than go down in ruins. Was going to tell you but you got older and closer with Ice and it just- never came up.” 

You swallow, nodding. “Cool.” 

“Is everything okay?” You sit there for a moment, turning everything over in your head. You knew, but you were so scared. It was like two sides of you were warring, what you knew desperately fighting with what you feared. “Hey, talk to me kiddo. What’s going on?” 

You continued to sit there, tears beginning to form. Finally, you found the courage to say the words that were right there-

“Dad, I think I’m bi.” 

The words are no more than a whisper but he hears them all the same. He didn’t say anything, just continued to observe you. A few more tears begin to slip down your face, and then a few more, and then more, and soon you were struggling to wipe them all away as your Dad stood up from his seat to sit on the floor with you. He’s quick to wrap you in a hug, a kiss being placed to the top of your head. 

“Sweetheart, it’s okay.” 

You shake your head, swallowing. “It’s not.” You whisper. He holds you close, tucking your head into his shoulder. “How can it be okay? I’m in my fucking 30′s, in a long-term committed relationship with the person I want to marry, and I figure out I’m into women. It changes everything.” 

“It doesn’t have to.” He whispers. 

“How could it not?” Your voice is thick, the tears still bubbling out of you. “He’s gonna hate me, like I lied or-”

“Hey.” He says firmly, adjusting you to be able to look you in the eye while still holding on you. “Give Brad a little more credit than that, please. He’s loved every part of you since you were kids and through all your years apart. He’s going to love this part of you too.” 

“I’m bisexual.” You whisper, the words prompting a new round of tears. “It feels really good to say that.” 

Your Dad pulls you back to his chest, squeezing you tight. “I’m glad you’ve finally found yoruself.”

-

You glance up from your phone, the text from Bradley sitting on your phone like it’s taunting you. 

Text me when you get home please.

I love you.

“This isn’t our house.”

Your Dad turns the ignition off. “Nope.” 

You blink, turning to your Dad. “Are you really making me have this conversation with him now?” 

He shrugs. “You can tell Brad whatever you want, but I figured you'd probably want to see him.” 

You sigh, sliding your seatbelt off. As always, your Dad was right. 

You did want to see Bradley. You longed for a hug and for him to tell you that everything would be alright, that he’d still love you just like he always had. 

“And kid?” 

You pause, looking up at him as you climb out of the car. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m really proud of you.” 

You swallow. 

“Thanks Dad.”

You climb out out the car, giving your Dad a wave as he drives off you. You sigh, pulling out your keys and thumbing through until you find the one that you had had since you were eleven years old, the key you’d never let go of, even in the years you didn’t speak to the person who inhabited this home. 

You blink tears away at the thought it may one day become your home. That tonight could mean it would never be your home. 

“Bradley?” You call out, toeing your shoes off by the entryway, straining for the sounds of him. 

“In the kitchen, honey.” He calls back and you can hear him moving around. You enter the kitchen, hovering by the door. 

Bradley’s cooking, sitting something on the stove, a towel slung on his shoulder as he tastes the sauce. He perks up at the sight of you, smiling. “Hey honey.”

“Hi. Sorry for dropping by unannounced.” 

He shakes his head, holding a hand out for you. “You’re never a bother. Come try the sauce. Tash sent me the recipe for her grandmother’s and I’ve been tweaking it to perfection.” 

He holds out the spoon for you to take but all you can do is stare. 

“We need to talk.” 

Bradley swallows, pulling back slowly. “Okay...” He trails off, leaning over to turn the stove off. “Do you want talk about it over dinner?”

You shake your head, glancing at the food. It looks and smells incredible, but you feel like throwing up, feeling the truth claw it’s way out of your throat on it’s own. 

“Now please?” You say, voice cracking. 

He nods. “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it.”

He looks so earnest and honest in his words, so sure that whatever you have to say to him couldn’t change how he feels about you, that you start to believe it too. 

You feel the tears stinging at your eyes as Bradley waits patiently. 

“I’m not- I don’t mean to spring this on you or- or- I don’t want you to think I’ve lied about this or intentionally hid it from you-”

He grabs your hand, squeezing it before running his thumb over your knuckles. “Honey, you’re okay.” He whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “It’s okay, whatever it is, it’s okay.” 

You take a shuddering breath, leaning into his smell and the way he feels like home. 

“Bradley, I’m- I’m bisexual.” You whisper. 

It feels as though all sound is cut off as you watch him intently, not sure if seconds or hours ar epassing, anxiously waiting for him to tell you that he just couldn’t be with someone like that. 

Rationally, you knew he’d never do that to you. You hoped he’d still love you just as you are, even with this new discovery of yours. 

“If you wanna break up with me, I’d understand.” 

Bradley’s face falls and he pulls you into a hug. “Oh, honey, no.” 

You wrap your arms around him, desperate to find some sort of comfort. 

“Honey, this would never, ever change how I feel about you or what we have. How could it? This is just one more part of you that I get to love and I’m so glad it’s something you were able to discover about yourself. I’m so happy you felt like you could share it with me.” 

You swallow, tears still brimming in your eyes as you pull back to look him in the eye. 

This time though, it wasn’t from fear but from the feeling sitting in you at the way he looked at you. 

He gives you a soft smile, one of his hands reaching up to move some of your hair. “Besides, I’ve always had a suspicion.” 

You raise an eyebrow, letting out a choked laugh. “You did? How?” 

“Do you remember your friend Lexi from high school? Yeah, no one was ever really sure you two were just friends.” 

“What?” You question. “I wasn’t into her like that.” 

“Well, now I know that, but back then...” He shrugs, leaning up against the countertop. “I don’t know, Sli used to have this theory you were just dating Ben as a cover.” 

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” You mutter, reaching up to brush some of the tears away with a shake of your head. 

Bradley smiles softly, knowing there's no real heat behind your statement. Your Uncle Slider had always been able to see things in a way no one else could, reading past the lies and bullshit. 

Maybe the years of putting up with Mav and Ice had taught him how. 

“Do you feel better?”

You nod, leaning into his touch. “Feels like a weight has been lifted, I guess. Like everything makes sense.”

He ducks to press a kiss to your cheek. “Good. That’s how it should be.” He turns back to the stove, retrieving his spoon. “Will you try the sauce now?” 

You quirk an eyebrow, letting out a watery chuckle. “I have to admit I was expecting us to have a longer discussion about this.” You say, although you take the spoon anyways. 

He shrugs as he places the spoon in the sink after you nod, giving him your approval. “It doesn’t have to be. It can just be as simple as that if you want it to be.” He pauses, facing you. “Why? Do you want us to have a longer conversation about it?” 

You give a half-shrug, sighing. “Not- not really? It doesn’t change anything for me, I still love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. If you still want that, of course.” 

He sighs, reaching out for you again. “I want to be here however long you want me here. You trusted me with something deeply personal and that means so much to me. I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever.” 

You take his, intertwining your fingers with his. “I know.” You whisper. 

He smiles. “Good.” He turns back to the stove. “Now, let’s get some food in you. Can’t imagine Mav cooked anything halfway decent this weekend.” 

You laugh, reaching for the bowls out of the cabinet so Bradley can scoop the pasta up into the ceramic dishes. He tells you about his weekend as the two of you settle in the couch, close to one another. Bradley’s body heat isn’t the only reason feel warmth, the love you feel brining a certain type of peace you rarely experienced. 

Later, after the two of you have had a couple of glasses of wine and are on your second helping of food, you remember your conversation with your Dad earlier in the day. 

You pause in your bite, fork halfway to your mouth. “By the way, I learned something today about Dad.” 

“Hm?” He prompts, shoving a bite of pasta in his mouth. 

“He and Ice hooked up in ‘86.” 

Bradley chokes. 

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick fic #same mistakes

[cuubism]

*puppy eyes* might we have a little more silly rabbit au? as a treat?

i'm rapidly running out of scenes to share 😂 i'll have to write more

---

Sage Advice

Beth was not usually a fiend for gossip. Usually, she kept her head down, did her work, focused on her own life instead of other people’s.

But, oh, did Professor Gadling’s class provide such excellent gossip.

“Do you think he’s a student?” whispered Dylan at her side. They were, ostensibly, at a lecture event on medieval warfare. In reality, they were watching the Professor Gadling and his goth boyfriend show.

Beth squinted in their direction. Their professor was leaning against the wall several meters away, talking animatedly with a drink in one hand. His boyfriend – a word which felt insufficient somehow, though Beth couldn’t think of anything better – stood close to his side, just in his space, and, as she watched, leaned in to whisper something in his ear. “I don’t think he’s young enough to be an undergrad.”

“Grad student, then? But also, there are older undergrads, too, returning student things and whatnot?”

“Do you really think Professor Gadling is that kind of person?” Beth asked.

“I mean I wouldn’t have thought but you know what they say,” Dylan affected a dark tone, “you can never really know another human being.”

Beth snorted.

“He’s definitely way younger, though,” Dylan continued. “It’s a problem.”

“Oh, undoubtedly younger—” unless the guy just had a really excellent skincare routine “—but why is that such a huge problem for you? They’re both adults.”

“I just wanna know,” Dylan insisted.

“You need more excitement in your life.”

“This is my excitement.”

Beth was about to give up and go do something that didn’t involve creepily staring at her professor from across the room, when Professor Gadling rested his hand on his boyfriend’s hip and his boyfriend leaned in and said, just loud enough for Beth to make out, “You always offer such sage advice, Professor.”

She met Dylan’s gaze, both of them equally horrified.

“Is he fucking one of his TAs?” Beth hissed.

“Is he that guy’s advisor?” Dylan squeaked in return.

God. This was just getting worse and worse by the moment.

But also so much more interesting.

-----

“Your students are gossiping about us again,” Dream murmured in Hob’s ear, voice rumbling so low Hob could swear his wine glass vibrated at the tenor.

“Only because you’re inciting them,” Hob grumbled back. “I know what you’re doing.”

“Contrary to what you believe, I am not manipulating their dreams. This is a game of the waking world only.”

“Why? Why limit yourself?”

“Because it is more of a challenge.” A sly smile cut across Dream’s face. “It has been a long time since I have worked with such raw material. Material that I cannot simply bend to my will. It is far more thrilling to succeed when the difficulty is greater.”

“Material? They’re my students, not clay.”

“That is where you are wrong.”

“So what exactly are you doing, then?” Hob demanded.

“I am crafting a story,” said Dream, and he lit up with such vibrancy at the words that Hob couldn’t bear to tell him to stop even if this all felt more like a mad science experiment than it did storytelling. “But I am not telling it, no. My materials are assumption and implication and I am letting the story tell itself.”

Hob was both impressed and frightened by the prospect of this. “How, exactly?”

Dream’s eyes glinted as if he had just been waiting for Hob to ask. “Like this.”

He leaned in next to Hob’s ear, and Hob caught him automatically by his hip. Dream said, louder than before, “You always offer such sage advice, Professor.”

Hob couldn’t stop his blush at the sultry tone of it. He watched out of the corner of his eye as the two students in the corner started whispering furiously at one another. Dream smirked, victorious.

“Before you say I am manipulating,” he said, back in his lower tone, “ask yourself, did I speak a false word?”

“Assuming you do in fact think I occasionally offer good advice, then no. What’s your point?”

“My point is this: blame me not for weaving lies in their heads. I speak no lies. Weak stories are built upon lies. Real stories grow from a seed of truth.”

“Like dreams,” Hob said, begrudgingly, and Dream nodded proudly. “God, your mind terrifies me sometimes,” Hob added, and knocked back the rest of his wine.  

#this au is chaotic as fuck #dream: hehehehe wow gossip is fun #hob: NOT FOR ME #not dream using hob's students to create a real life version of goncharov 1973 about him and hob #silly rabbit au #how many subplots does this au have #too many #magnusbae #my writing #ask #anonymous #dreamling #dreamling fic

[thefrontofmymind]

Might As Well 6; Just Outside Of Town

matty healy x videographer!reader

WC: 3771

masterlist

WARNING 18+ MDNI

The first word that came to your mind was content. As you laid in Matty’s arms, watching as the sun rose, you were content. Satisfied was the second word–you thought it was alright with Dylan, you thought that was what an orgasm was. You were wrong. It was like both of your bodies just fit so flawlessly together. It was perfect. From the second you kissed, through every time he asked if you were okay, to now laying together in perfect silence, you’d never felt so calm.

Once the sun was comfortably in the sky, you turned to look at him, you got a shock when you saw he was already looking at you. You both let out a small chuckle–yours from embarrassment and his from feeling you jump a little.

“You alright, darlin’?” He asked with a smirk.

“Yeah, just…” You started, matching his smile. “Happy.”

“Well I’d hope so…” He joked. “With all the work I just put in…if you weren’t happy that’d be a problem.”

“No! I just…I’m glad this happened.”

“Good.” He kissed the top of your head–an easy reach with you perched into the side of his body. “Me too.”

Eventually, you two drifted off to sleep after the string of occasional, sleepy chatter died out. You woke up at about half eleven. The warmth had crept into Matty’s room, leaving you both with a thin sheen of sweat on your skin and a serious case of cotton-mouth.

Matty was kind enough to let you have a shower at his place, you washed off the sweat and now extremely smudged makeup from the night before.

As you both crept downstairs to his van, you hear shuffling in the kitchen. And then a gruff voice.

“Matthew is that you?” An older, bald man walked into the hallway. He had the same eyes as Matty.

“Dad…” Matty said, he sounded surprised. “This is…a friend.”

“Hello, darlin’,” he said in a kind voice.

“Hi…” You trailed off.

“Call me Tim.”

“I’m just taking her home…” Matty said.

You began to panic. What does Tim think of me? Staying the night at his house with his son? Before you could dwell on it too much, Matty was ushering you out the front door and into his van.

In an all too familiar routine, Matty drove you back home, though now there was an air of…something different. You felt closer to him, obviously, but not just physically–you finally were starting to understand one another. You could read his micro-expressions better, and you were sure he was doing the same thing right back at you. As he pulled into your drive, there was a lingering moment of silence as the two of you before you actually said a goodbye. Fuck it.

You leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on his lips. Immediately, one of his hands went to the back of your neck, holding you as he deepened the kiss. The fireworks you felt the night before were still there. It was almost painful to pull away.

“I need to go!” You giggled as Matty refused to let you get too far.

“Just one more kiss,” he requested. So you did, and with an extraordinarily joyful goodbye, you left.

You mum basically accosted you as soon as you stepped through the door.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, already handing you a glass of water. 

“Just a bit hungover,” you answered, trying your hardest to not show your giddiness. 

She gave you a sympathetic smile. “I know, darling, Chris said you had a bit to drink.”

“I did…” You said through a yawn. 

“Just go to bed, love, I’ll wake you for dinner…”

You shuffled to your room. You couldn’t stop smiling as you took off your boots, put on your cosiest pyjamas, and scanned through your shelf of DVDs from one to put on while you–hopefully–got some sleep. Scarface. You put it on, on a low volume, the opening credits’ music began to lull you to sleep.

You very quickly realised half the rush of being with Matty was the secrecy of it. The winks to each other when no one was looking, the secret texts, the hand on your thigh when you coincidentally sat next to each other at the pub.

What you loved the most was the look. A silent signal that meant ‘I’m going to hide in the bathroom, you better be in there with me after I count to twenty’.

You were patiently waiting in the disabled bathroom at whatever pub your whole group had chosen for the night. It was a bit further from home than normal, you’d taken the train just a little bit west for a new adventure. And it was busier–being a Friday night and all–so it was a little easier to slip away without anyone even realising you were gone.

You heard a knock on the door. Your secret knock. You quickly opened the door and let him in. Immediately his lips were on yours. Adrenaline was running through your veins as one of your hands reached to his belt buckle.

Matty broke the kiss and chuckled. “Eager, are we?”

“Please just fuck me.”

With a smug grin, his hands joined yours to undo his belt. And as you popped open the button of his jeans and drew down the zipper, he reached under your skirt. You let out a light moan as his fingers pulled your underwear aside and dove into your wetness. And he let out an equally filthy moan when your hand went straight for his boxers and gave him a few tugs–already half hard.

It was quick and sloppy, within ten minutes you were both spent and you were trying to fix your makeup so it didn’t look like you just got your brains fucked out. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Matty crouch to pick up your discarded underwear off the tiled floor. You thought he was going to give them back to you, but he did the opposite, shoving them into his pocket, and giving you a joking wink when he noticed you were watching him.

You went back to the group first, then Matty joined you all after he counted to 100. Nobody noticed when you both rejoined. The conversation was all too focussed on the woman behind the bar that George was sweet on.

“I swear! She gave me a double shot! She wants me!” He argued, to which everyone scoffed.

“She’s a ten, mate! She’d never go for you,” Ross joked.

“Nah! She’s been flirting with me every time I go up and order a drink!”

“Because she wants a tip!” You eventually interjected.

“Well if she’s lucky she’ll get more than one tip tonight,” George quipped.

You groaned in response. “Look, if you think she wants you so bad, I’ll make you a bet.”

He nodded. 

“If you can go up there and order a glass of milk and down it right in front of her, and if she’s still going after you…I’ll pay for all of your drinks for the rest of the summer, and if she doesn’t go for it, you’ll do the same.”

A chorus of ‘oooo’s echoed around the group.

“Deal.”

And with a shake of hands he was off to the bar while the rest of you watched eagerly.  The poor girl looked so confused when he asked, giving a slight nod before grabbing a glass and filling it with milk.

You saw the look of horror over the barmaid’s face as he tipped the glass up and downed it in less than three seconds–you couldn’t help but laugh, you just got all your drinks for free for the rest of the summer. 

Your entire group let out a laugh as you all watched George try to keep a conversation with her while she was working. Then you almost felt back when you saw her say something to him, quite irritated. George slowly trudged back to the table you were crowded around.

“She’s busy working,” he started. “Doesn’t have time to talk.”

“You’ll get her some other time, G.” You patted him on the back

You were suddenly wishing you’d brought a pair of sunglasses with you as you climbed the tree outside of Matty’s house, getting closer and closer to his open window, him leaning out and telling you to hurry up. Eventually you reached the sill, when Matty took hold of you to pull you into his bedroom.

“Now will you tell me why I couldn’t just use the front door?” You asked between feverish kisses after a good twenty minutes of anticipation–you had to take the bus to Matty’s house, he was stuck babysitting his brother, who you were still yet to meet.

“Can’t have Louis finding out,” he answered, pulling you to his bed.

“Are you embarrassed of me?” You chided.

“Nah, he’ll just snitch on me.”

“Are you scared of your parents finding out about me?” You teased, you could see him getting flustered.

“I’m not scared just…I don’t want them to think of you badly,” he said. You understood his concerns, you’d been thinking about your run-in with Tim. “Plus, it’s so much hotter sneaking around.”

You laughed and kissed him again, only breaking it to take off your vest–thin, white material that you could clearly see your bra through, by design.

Things got more and more heated, you were quivering with anticipation of what was to come. That was until there was a knock on the door.

In a fit of panic, Matty pushed you off of him, trying to find a place for you to hide. You quickly hid under the bed. You heard Matty open his bedroom door.

“What’s up?” He asked.

“I need help,” Louis said.

“Yeah?”

“What temperature do I turn the oven to for chicken nuggets?”

You let out a quiet chuckle.

“One-ninety, eighteen minutes.”

“Cool,” the young boy answered. “Do you want some?”

“No thanks, mate.”

You heard the door close and Matty’s footsteps getting closer to the bed. You poked your head out the side of the bed, met with the sight of Matty laughing, looking down at you. He helped you to your feet, enveloping you in a tight hug. The air in the room had changed drastically–from salacious anticipation to a more wholesome, contentment.

“My dad has asked about you though,” he said, still with arms around your waist. You hummed in response, eyebrows raised. “I told him you’re going away to uni and he said he wants you to come over for dinner one night before you leave.”

Your heart swelled at the fact that he’d been talking to his dad about you. “Wouldn’t that mean we wouldn’t be sneaking around anymore?”

“Well we still can with everyone else,” he answered with a cheeky grin. “They don’t have to know…”

You giggled, kissing him again. The air shifted back and you were all over each other once again.

You were overwhelmed by the stars in the sky. Matty had taken you out to the outskirts of Wilmslow, just far enough from all the lights to actually see the night sky above you. You would’ve been frightened about the fact that you and him were all alone in the middle of nowhere so late at night if it wasn’t for the fact that you were so high–something that only added to the whole experience.

As your eyes were up, Matty was stuck looking at you, smiling at your awestruck expression. It was then that he knew. He knew it would be hard to say goodbye to you and that dreaded day was getting closer and closer, a mere ten days left of you. He was trying not to think about it, but every time he saw you, his mind would scream at you to savour every moment.

“Do you think the stars ever get lonely?” You asked him out of the blue.

“What?” He chuckled.

“Like the sun is the closest star to us, all the other stars are so far away…” You explained. “If I was a star I’d get lonely.”

He lightly chuckled at you. Everything you did just made him more endeared to you. Without you even trying.

“If you were a star I’d be an astronaut and visit you,” he said. “So you would never be lonely.”

“You promise?”

“Forever.”

You scooted closer to Matty on the picnic blanket you were both lying on. He lifted an arm to wrap around you so you could comfortably lay on his shoulder. Even with the sheen of sweat over both of you, all clammy and sticky, you couldn’t think of a better place to be in that moment.

When you turned your head to look at him, you were fully expecting him to be looking at the sky like you were, but no, he was looking at you. There was a sadness in his eyes, a sadness he was trying to hide. You couldn’t stand the sight–the idea that this true, deep sadness was your doing–so you kissed him.

It was a very tender kiss, something rare with the two of you. This was the first kiss that felt real, not just the means to an end of getting off. It said all the words you knew would get choked up in your throat.

You felt his tongue swipe across your bottom lip, you opened your mouth to let him gain entry. You couldn’t get any closer to him if you tried–and you did try, pulling him to lay over you, one of his hands keeping a firm grasp on your thigh.

You were thankful that your fashion choice for the summer were skirts–especially short ones at that–so Matty had easy access to tease a thumb stroking over your underwear. You needed him, and he needed you–as evident from his semi poking into the side of your hip.

With a little shuffling, your underwear was around your ankles and your hand was exploring his boxers. Matty let out a guttural moan in your ear as he was kissing down your neck, it was good to know you were doing something right.

It wasn’t long before Matty had shimmied his jeans down and his hard cock was slowly inching further and further into you. It was a feeling you were so used to now. In fact, something you knew you would miss–along with every other thing about Matty that you loved so dearly.

You’d never fucked like this before. Staunch eye contact between the both of you as Matty thrusted over and over. You weren’t racing to an orgasm, you were appreciating the moment. You could tell Matty felt the same, trying to memorise your gasps and moans and you melted into the pleasure he was giving you.

Soon his pace quickened, and a hand that was previously stroking your hip moved to your clit, firm circles. Matty could feel you approaching your climax, pulsating around him.

“Matty…babe…” You moaned. “I’m…”

“Cum, darling,” he answered, kissing you again.

If it weren’t for the fact that your mouth was a little preoccupied, you would’ve let out a rasping moan, one that was swallowed up by Matty–on the verge, himself, from the squeeze of your pussy as you came. It was only a minute or so until he emptied into the condom he’d hastily slid on and rolled to lay beside you.

You both didn’t say much, laying in the euphoria of the best sex you’d ever had. The stars somehow looked more beautiful than before. You heard a laugh from Matty and his zipper.

You watched him struggle to his feet, then as he just stood and looked at you. You couldn’t mistake the grin plastered across his face in the moonlight. Then he leant down to your feet, fetching your underwear that was still around your boots, and shoving them into his pocket.

“I’m gonna start charging you for those,” you joked.

“What else am I supposed to remember you by?” He laughed, pulling you to your feet. “I’ll reimburse you when I’m all rich and famous. I’ll even get you all fancy ones.”

“Expect the invoice,” you replied.

You were glad to finally see Matty’s house, properly now. You knew his parents were on the telly, and it really showed with just how lovely their home was. You’d commented on it when you first arrived and Matty’s mum blushed with a ‘thank you’.

“And you must call me Denise, darling!” She told you.

It was a good night. You thought there would be some pressure, some anxiety, but it all felt so easy. You laughed and drank as Tim and Denise told you embarrassing stories of when Matty was little. You gave an enthusiastic “awesome, mate!” when Louis told you he wanted to be an actor when he grew up.

It all felt so…normal. You’d never gone to the house of the guy you liked, had dinner with his parents and desperately hoped they liked you. You never even went to Dylan’s house while you were dating. Somehow, this felt more real that what you had with Dylan ever was.

Dwelling on it too much as you were getting ready for bed just made you sad. Two days. Two days left before you would be up-ending your life and moving to the completely opposite side of the country–around Southerners. You hadn’t even thought about how you would say goodbye–to your family, to your friends, to Matty. It made you tear up just thinking about it, but you were quickly running out of time.

Sitting in your bedroom, surrounded by the three boxes of the things you were taking with you, felt so…small. All the significant things in your life–your favourite clothes, your most important DVDs, your laptop, and the photos of all your memories–could fit into just three cardboard boxes. 

The house felt too quiet, like the air was somehow thicker around your room. You felt like you needed it though–the solitude–for your last night home. You were exhausted from the night before, when your family threw you a going-away party to send you off. A night filled with individual ‘goodbye’s for each person you would miss so dearly. It would just be your mum driving you down to Brighton in the morning, you didn’t want a fuss, and your dad would be meeting you there to help you and her move you into the flat you were staying in for the semester. Even though you desperately needed it, you didn’t know if you could cry anymore, you were all out of tears.

You must’ve just been sitting on your bed, just basking in it all, for almost half an hour, when you heard a gentle knock at your door. 

It opened a crack and light came pouring into your dark room from the light in the hallway. It was him, the one person who you knew you would miss the most.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Matty asked when he saw your face devoid of emotion.

“Yeah, yeah…” You answered, trying to put on your most convincing smile.

He stood at the door, looking at you. He could see right through you.

“Do you wanna go for a drive? I have a goodbye present,” he said with a smile.

You mirrored his smile. One last time, you thought. In a flash, your boots were on and you were getting comfy in the passenger seat of Matty’s van as he drove to the park down the road. You tried not to dwell too much on the goodbye, just trying to enjoy your time with him.

Once the familiar, musky smoke had filled your lungs, you felt at ease again. Like nothing was about to change. You chatted like you always did, laughed like you always did, made out, which was a much more recent addition to your friendship.

“I have another present for you,” he said, lightening your kisses.

“Another one? You sure know how to spoil a girl,” you joked.

He opened a CD case and put the disk into his radio while explaining, “I wrote this a little while ago…It wasn’t ready until today and I think you should hear it.”

Soft guitar strumming came through the speakers, it was calming. And then Matty’s voice, so soft and gentle.

“Well we’re here, we’re at the common again. Smoked six of the ten fags I bought only an hour ago.”

You loved it immediately.

“Said well I…I like the look of your shoes, I like the way your face looks when I’m arguing with you.”

You chuckled a little.

“And so when, when we all grow old…I hope this song will remind you that I’m not half as bad as what you’ve been told.”

You smiled, this time to yourself. A warmth spread through your chest.

“When I knock…At a hundred and two, and I see your pyjamas, I can’t stop smiling at you.”

Your vision blurred with tears. Tears you didn’t know you had in you.

“And that’s why we’re here. We’re at the common again. I’ve been pouring my heart out towards your optimistic grin.

I said well I…like the cut of your jib, and I like the way that your face looks when you’re yapping on about him.

I put on this shirt, and I found your smell, and I just sat there for ages. Contemplating what to do with myself.”

Tears were freely flowing now, and your hand had an almost vice-like grip on his. Like he would be blown a hundred miles away if your grip loosened enough to let him slip away.

“And I called you up…at a hundred and two. We just sat there for ages, talking about that boy what was getting on to you…you…you…you.”

The song ended and you were both left in silence–only broken by your occasional sniffle.

“I can’t go,” you said eventually. “I’m not going tomorrow.”

“No you’re not!” Matty answered, in a very firm tone.

“I can’t leave!” You yelled. “I can’t leave you!”

Matty gave you a knowing look, before placing a kiss on your forehead. “You can…You’re starting your life and you’ll meet new people and you’ll…find peace.”

“What about you?” You asked.

“You can’t shake me off that easy, darling!” He laughed. “I’ll come and visit you, me and the guys. You can show us around the beach…”

You smiled. “I love you so much…you know.”

It was a loaded sentence, you didn’t really think before you spoke.

“I know.” He pulled you into a hug. “You’re my best friend.”

#matty healy x reader #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy smut

[eth-edwards-73]

Break up, make up pt 1

uhhh so this is kinda depressing and might be triggering for some people but idk how to really explain the warning so yeah

Luke Hughes x reader warnings: angst, child loss, break up, ...

She had lost everything or at least that’s how she felt. Her brother was in a coma in the hospital, Luke who had broken up with her right before leaving for New Jersey and her unborn child who Luke didn’t know about, she had planned to tell him the day he broke up with her but she didn’t have the time then and she didn’t know how to tell him after then. All the stress and pain had caused her to miscarry so she sat there on the floor of her dorm, wailing, tears streaming down her face rapidly. 

“I think it’s better if we break up.” He had announced, tears sprung into her eyes as she searched his face for any emotion or any indication this was some sick joke but she found none. 

“Why?” She had asked, her voice wavering but still her emotional state didn’t affect the youngest Hughes. 

“I need something new.” He had shrugged carelessly as her heart shattered to pieces, she had let out a little sniffle and wiped away a tear that was threatening to fall before nodding. 

“O-okay,” She paused: “I- i’ll drop your stuff off at the sophomore house.” That was her reply: she didn’t know why she didn’t fight for their relationship and just let him go away that quickly. She wished she’d reacted differently although she didn’t really know how she would’ve reacted otherwise. There was just this immense guilt weighing down on her.  

She felt numb but that was because it didn’t fully get through to her yet. It confused the other hockey players on the team why she had started avoiding them all of a sudden, since she had been friends with some of them before she had even met Luke. Truth to be told she couldn’t face anything that even remotely came close to hockey, it just hurt too much. 

A new found habit of hers was going to parties and drinking away the pain, tonight was one of those nights but even worse because the entire hockey team was there to celebrate a win. She had downed everything she could get. It didn't matter if it was a shot or just a bottle of beer, she consumed it. Ethan and Dylan had run into her multiple times that night but she’d ignored them when they tried to interact, they were worried after seeing how much she drank. 

She stumbled over the porch, barely conscious, oblivious to the hockey teams standing outside, when she was about to fall Dylan caught her. He sat down with her in his arms, he didn’t know what to do with the girl, he’d never seen her this drunk before. 

“What’s going on with you?” He whispered, it was more to himself than to her but she heard and she looked up to him, her eyes watery and droopy.

“I lost them.” She slurred, the boys around her frowned, they knew her and Luke were over but why had she said them and not just him. She crawled away from Dylan sitting down further away from him wrapping her arms around her stomach as the tears started flowing. 

“My baby.” She wailed, while sobbing and rocking herself: “I lost my baby.” It was heartbreaking for them to see her break down in front of them like this, so they could only imagine the pain she was going through even when they didn’t know who she was talking about. 

“It’s my fault, it’s all my fault …” She had started muttering her sentence fading into babbling they couldn’t hear properly nor understand. They started talking, questioning how to help her. 

“Maybe we should call Luke.” Nolan proposed and the others agreed so Ethan pulled out his phone dialing the boy, hoping he’d pick up which he did. 

“Hey man, I heard you guys won, good game.”

“Um thanks, I actually called for something else…”

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, i- we don’t know, we’re at this party and Y/N is pretty fucking wasted and she’s crying. We don’t know what to do Luke.” At the mention of the brunet boy's name Y/N’s head perked up but she only started crying harder. 

“Uh, maybe it’s best if I just give you to her.” Ethan stated, Luke hummed on the other side of the phone giving Etan the green light to do that. The Canadian kneeled down in front of the girl and gave her the phone telling her Luke was on it. 

“Luke,” She sobbed: “I lost them, I'm sorry.” 

“Who did you lose love?” 

“I’m so sorry, Luke, please forgive me, I lost them, I lost our baby.” She cried, his heart fell and he almost dropped the phone. A wave of pain surged through him, as he realized what he had caused. The other boys were also in shock staring at the girl who kept on crying and rocking herself. She kept on saying sorry like everything had been her fault before falling asleep out of pure exhaustion, still crying to Luke. She would wake up the next morning and regret telling him on the phone and thereby also telling the other boys. 

Luke tried reaching out to her every day over the three weeks coming after their call but she didn’t reply. She was fed up with his messages so she just popped the question.

Why do you keep calling me?

Luke. I just want to talk

Well i don’t so please leave me alone

Luke. please Y/N we need to talk

no we don’t it’s over between us there’s nothing to talk about Luke

Luke. Yes there is

No there isn’t so please leave me alone

Luke. Y/N

no Luke we broke up you wanted something new and i want to move on so don’t contact me again

Y/N/N <3  has blocked you

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

this and the other posts have been very depressing and sad but i have a few happy ones coming up but in the meantime please send me requests if you have any :)

i posted part two :)

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #umich boys #umich wolverines #umich hockey #hughes #nj devils #luke

[kitkatscabinet]

Hi I saw your Jacob x reader from the quarry. I loved your writing btw!!! Can I request more Jacob?? Like maybe something where reader has a thing for Jacob but at the beginning of summer, saw that Emma did too so reader backs off cause they’re friends but also cause she thinks Emma’s prettier and that Jacob would choose her anyways. Then when they’re playing truth or dare stuff comes out and Jacob and reader end up together?? If that made ANYYYY sense at all lmao

This was so fun to write and I ended up getting a little carried away. Thank you to everyone that has said they love my writing and yes you can absolutely request more Jacob! Hope you enjoy :D

Word count: 1173

Genre: Fluff, I know you probably wanted angst but this kind of ended up with a comedic twist.

Jacob had caught your eye from the moment you had arrived at Hackett’s Quarry, you couldn’t say you would usually go for the jock types but he had been unbelievably sweet from the get-go. You had been sat next to each other during the initial orientation Mr Hackett had given and your sides had started to hurt from holding in the laughter his quiet commentary had inspired. Leading him to grin in success every time he noticed you smile, the two of you had spent the rest of the day together before the kids arrived.

Jacob ended up being one of the people you spent the most time with apart from Emma. That was how you had noticed the influencers interest in him. Deciding to be a good friend you had slightly backed off, you liked Jacob sure, but it wasn’t like you’d fallen madly in love with him. Emma was also one of your better friends and the two deserved to be happy. It wasn’t like anyone had noticed your slight crush anyway, you were a very laidback person and your interactions with Jacob weren’t very different from how you acted around anyone else, so you couldn’t even blame your friend for not noticing your feelings.

You stalwartly ignored the small part of you that yelled you wouldn’t stand a chance against Emma anyway. The part that decided Jacob couldn’t possibly be interested in someone like you anyway, besides everybody loved Emma. Hell you loved Emma, there was a reason you were friends after all.

At first it had actually been pretty fine, your crush hadn’t been that big you reasoned and pulling away from Jacob had allowed your friendships with Emma and Dylan flourish even more. The problem arose however, when Jacob himself had hunted you down one afternoon and asked to speak with you in private. He had lead you over to the boat house and his silence along the way had made you a little tense, worse case scenarios running through your head at a mile a minute. Seeing that Jacob wasn’t going to speak up first you did.

“What’s up?” you had asked with a smile genuinely happy to see him and trying to defuse the tenion. That smile had faded as you noticed the serious hurt on his face

“Did I do something wrong?” the crack in his voice left you feeling nauseous as you truly took in his body language. He was hunched in on himself slightly, all normal confidence gone and his eyes, oh his eyes were wet with tears and you rushed to rectify it. Desperately wanting to fix whatever had made Jacob feel so small, so unsure of himself.

“What? No you’ve done nothing wrong that I know of. Where’s this coming from?” your tone incredulous as you watched his face carefully

“It just, it feels like you’ve been avoiding me lately and I thought I might have done something” he said trying to shrug nonchalantly but you could tell he was upset by the slight wobble in his smile and fiddling hands. Stepping over to him you quickly assured him that that was not the case and even ended up promising the two of you could spend your free time tomorrow together, just the two of you. He had beamed widely at that and you had ended up linking arms with him on the way back to the lodge for dinner.

That was where the issues seriously arose, as you spent more time with him you couldn’t stop your crush from growing into something more. It was only when you saw Emma laughing with Jacob one afternoon that you were fully reminded of why you had stepped away to begin with. Forcing a smile on your face you went about your day and continued to be friends with both Emma and Jacob unaware of Kaitlyn’s constant disapproving gaze.

As you sat on the log watching the ongoing game of truth and dare that had resulted from the minivans refusal to start you found yourself hoping to every god that existed you would be ignored. What you weren’t privy to was the fact that Emma had well and truly grown out of her initial like for Jacob, and she had noticed how the pair of you behaved around each other. Any other day she’d wonder what she had done to deserve a friend like you but by this point she was tired of her friends dancing around each other, so she decided to be the push that was needed.

“Jacob, truth or dare” she asked, a wicked grin growing on her face as the man enthusiastically chose dare. “I dare you, to kiss the person that you like the most” she egged on, noticing you slumping slightly from your spot.

You couldn’t quite stop the slump in your shoulders at Emma’s words and Jacob’s overexcited expression. However, your brain stalled a little as he jumped up and made a beeline straight over to you, leaning down to kiss you like it was the best thing anyone had ever asked him to do. You couldn’t think much in the next few seconds the feeling of his lips on yours the only thing you could register. When he pulled away he had the biggest smile you’d ever seen covering his face and you finally registered Emma’s cheers as everyone waited for your reaction.

“Jacob what?” was all you managed to blurt out quite dumbly still in shock. It was his turn to be confused now

“I thought you knew. I told you I liked you last week and then you said you liked me too, remember?” he said a little nervously now. That was news to you.

“Fucking when!” you shouted, hands coming to rest on top of your head in distress

“Uh, last Tuesday… I was walking you back to your cabin cause you were tired and I confessed and then you confessed…” he trailed off the two of you staring at each other in blatant confusion, until vague memories of the event came back.

“I was so tired I thought that was a dream” you admitted as your fellow counsellors were staring at the absolute circus in front of them in awe.

“Wait I thought you two were already dating” Dylan chimed in “you’ve literally been holding hands and hugging for all of this last week” his dumbfounded tone setting off a chorus of incredulous laughs from Emma and Abi.

“Oh, my God. We’ve been dating for a week” you said absolutely shell shocked before you suddenly rounded on Jacob once again. “We’ve been dating for a week, why didn’t you tell me!” you demanded, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“I thought you knew!” he defended, like you were the only idiot present. Deciding not to waste anymore time you stood up with a laugh and threw yourself into his chest, the cheers of your fellow counsellor making the smile on your face grow even further as Jacob hugged you to him.

Taglist: @laurakearnxy @wolfsquad @rainbows-dreams @dylanlenievy @kestisvrse @aaetherr69 @sheriff-hackett

#jacob custos #jacob custos x reader #the quarry jacob #the quarry requests #the quarry x reader #the quarry oneshot

[eddiernunson]

Really Drives Me Mad | EX-bfs dad!Eddie Munson x Reader | 18+

Previous Part | Master List | Next Part

Word Count: 12.8k

Big big thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing for me I appreciate it, bestie

Another big thank you to @bebe07011 for spitting ideas and giving feedback.

Warnings: Degradation/praise, eating out, public sex, daddy kink, and several scenes where smut is mentioned but not described. There is about 1k of words just from Dylan's perspective but its worth it trust me.

Eddie is a bit of a sugar daddy in this part, but its ok cause we all want him to spoil us anyway.

Author's note: Some of y'all are gonna make me cry with how kind you are with your words for this fic. I cannot believe how much this story has truly taken over my life. People have expressed sharing it with friends and I just cannot get over that. Thank you.

-

Your hands held a home-made cocktail on ice while The Princess Diaries played on the tv, a soft blanket covered your crossed legs as you sat with both Sky and Bethany in your living room, scattered along your couch.

Bethany often snuck a joint or two while she visited, the window staying open to minimize a smell with a 20-dollar fan in front of it to promote air circulation. It was nice to have a girls’ night, to order bags of chips and candy over SkiptheDishes, wear face masks, do your makeup for the hell of it, and just let loose.

Bethany made her way over about a movie and a half ago, and she was now explaining a stupid mishap from her office administrative position that quite literally pulled the company to a halt for 45 minutes. “I swear, you could not pay me enough to put up with those drivers.” She claims, taking an inhale from the joint in her two painted fingers.

Sky makes a sudden movement in her seat, reaching to the remote next to her to pause the movie. “Holy shit. Did I tell you I saw Eddie?” Her question is directed across you to Bethany, and you’re left wondering why the hell your boyfriend is the new topic of discussion.

“Wait, what?” Bethany asks, wide green eyes moving back and forth between you and Sky. “When and where?”

“Our date?” You interject her, a little weirded out by the turn this conversation has taken. “When Eddie picked me up, she was here.”

“Oh, I see.” She hums to herself. “Well, since she won’t show us a photo, please tell me what the man who’s old enough to be her father looks like.”

You roll your eyes at this, a cheeky thought occurring to you. “Well Dylan might be great; but he is a sequel. Ain’t nothing compared to the original.”

Sky nods, agreeing. “Eddie is… very good looking.” You shoot her a warning look, for some reason, her just alluding to his good looks makes you feel territorial. “Show her a picture if you don’t want to hear it, damn! Just telling the truth…”

“It’s not that I won’t show you guys,” you explain, unlocking your phone. “It’s that he doesn’t use social media, so he has no good photos of himself.” On the internet, at least.

“What, no throw back photos from Dylan’s insta?” Sky asks, mostly joking.

You go to Dylan’s insta, and you can’t view it. Fuck, you forgot. He blocked you. Even though he seems to be on better terms with you, simple reminders like being blocked from his social media or him refusing to tell any details about his life remind you he’s still nursing a healing wound. “Still blocked.” You look up, and their faces tell you they’re not letting up on it. “Fine. I’ll go to Eddie’s Facebook.”

Eddie added you as a friend the day after your date, adorably waiting as you went on your phone to accept it. The moment you did he went onto your profile and dove into your photos. His eyes were comically wide as he scrolled through them, and after the first few swipes he lifted his head to you. “You just put these on here? Fuck.” The photos weren’t even particularly bad, just you in a bikini on the beach or in a summer dress, he’s just that obsessed with you. You asked him if he minded and he shook his head comically, his dimples so prominent from his wide smile, he looked manic. “Oh, I never said to stop, sweetheart.”

Your thumb slides into Eddie’s profile, and while you were afraid of the calls from a judgemental relative about the relationship with him the word single on his relationship status still hits you hard in the chest. You move to his photos, past the useless profile picture that was his company logo of Munson’s Garage and swipe through the regular posts, past Dylan’s graduation from college, from high school, a picture of a nice car, an old one of his ex with Dylan, (barf), until you finally got through to a throwback, one posted in 2011.

It was taken in the 90s, so a picture of a picture of him sitting at an old kitchen table arm in arm with another dude. One of his feet was up on the table, and he was clutching a beer, lifting it to the camera. His friend was talking to someone off camera, distracted for the moment, his slightly freckled face in a scowl. His friend had brown hair down to his neck styled specifically in a swoop, and they seemed about the same age.

His friend was quite attractive, but younger Eddie made you fucking drool. God, he was so gorgeous. He wore a leather jacket under a denim vest, ripped blue jeans over his big black boots. Fuck. You almost didn’t want to share this photo.

You go to the next photo, and a giggle leaves your mouth as you see him posing with a friend, tongues out and devil horns on their heads as smiles peek through. The background is a stage at an Iron Maiden concert, and they both look ecstatic. It’s a different friend in this one with curly hair, but it looked like he had posted from the Iron Maiden concert. A few more scrolls told you that the throwback photo would be the best option.

“Ok.” You finally say, and both girls have been waiting so long at this point they’ve started scrolling on their own phones. “Guys. You wanna see it or not?”

You hand your phone to Bethany, indicating he was the one on the right. The possessiveness that hits you when you see her reaction, her wide eyes and jaw literally dropping, stunted you. “Holy shit. This is him from how long ago?”

“In the late 90s, I guess.” You tell her.

She hands the phone to Sky, who was asking for it repeatedly as soon as Bethany let out her reaction. “Oh, yeah. He was a cutie. Honestly, he’s hotter now.” Your teeth grit, and you take a deep breath in to calm yourself.

“How?” Bethany asks, gesturing to your phone.

“Ok. Enough. He’s very good looking. But he’s fucking taken.” You bark out, holding your hand out for the phone.

They both stop talking, your sudden anger very uncharacteristic of you. Usually when you find someone particularly good looking, you’d show them off, agreeing with your two friends when they would praise their good looks. This wasn’t anything like those times. Hearing their praises just makes you want to sink your teeth into Eddie’s neck and mark your territory the next time you see him.

“Woah, girl.” Sky says, laughing lightly to diffuse the tension. “Never seen that side of you before.”

“Well, I didn’t even know she existed until a waitress looked at Eddie on our date and I wanted to throttle her,” You admit, grabbing the nearly empty cocktail and taking a sip. “I just…I don’t know why I’m so territorial over him, but God, the thought of him with someone else makes me sick to my stomach.”

Bethany holds her hands up in surrender, “Alright, we won’t compliment him anymore. But you did good, girl. You did mighty good.”

-

As per usual, the girls'-day-in resulted in the three of you falling asleep in the living room, blankets and pillows scattered across the three of you. The sun cascading through a window by the couch wakes you up, disgruntled, as you pat around for your phone. The screen greets you harshly, your notifications indicating you have three messages from Eddie, two from a manager at work, and the several random ones, which you clear out, not caring about Instagram stories for the moment. Eddie texted to say he was going into work for a few hours. The next two messages indicated if you were there when he got home, he wouldn’t be against it.

Basically, he just told you to please be there when he got home. Fuck, the feeling of him reaching out first was enough to send a wide smile to your face, staring stupidly at your phone. You message him back, letting him know you’ll be there.

The messages from your manager were one from two hours ago, asking if you’d be able to come in for 10 o’clock– Which was thirty-five minutes ago– and the second asked if you were able to come in at all. You quirk your eyebrow, glad your read receipts are off for her, because you’re planning now to text at 3 o'clock to let her know that, oops, you just saw this. No, you’re not going in on your day off, you’ll be spending it with your ridiculously hot boyfriend.

You leap from your couch, running into your room to pack another overnight bag. You’re out the door before the others even stir.

As you pull into Eddie’s driveway, you notice Dylan’s truck there, but Eddie’s is still gone. You wonder when he’ll be back, because although Dylan is civil towards you, interactions with him are still stunted. You open the front door, grateful Dylan tended to leave it unlocked. You drop your overnight bag and pillow off at the staircase, its usual spot, before you trot off to the living room where Dylan sits watching tv.

As you plop down next to him on the other side of the couch, Dylan looks to you, startled by the movement, but his eyes roll in exasperation when he realizes that it’s you. “Hi.” You sing-song to him, knowing you’re annoying him, but having fun with it anyways.

“Hey.” He deadpans, watching the tv instead of looking over to you.

“Oh, wow you’re almost caught up.” You say, indicating to a show that you had recommended he watched a while back.

“Turned out to be a good show.” He comments, sounding annoyed.

“Well, how about that?” You retort, and Dylan rolls his eyes before a small smile lands on his face.

Progress.

Less than an hour later, the front door closes, indicating Eddie’s homecoming. He walks in, and as you pay attention to a particularly good episode in this series, you hear a big stretch come from him. “Hi, Ed!” You call out, finally turning towards him.

Fuck. Holy shit.

A few grease stains paint Eddie’s hands and chin, and he’s wearing a pair of blue coveralls from work with a patch on his chest of his name. The grease monkey suit shows off his muscles beautifully, both sleeves rolled up to his forearms. His hair is tied back into a messy bun, and you’re sure he forgot about the reading glasses on his head. Oh god, he is mouth watering.

A throw pillow hits your face, completely startling you. You whip your head around, glaring at  the culprit. “Little drool.” Dylan mouths, pointing to his chin.

“Oh, little drool?” You mock, getting up to hit him with the pillow hard. He chuckles, fighting you off.

You push his shoulder off, shuffling into the kitchen. You turn to see Eddie moving around the kitchen, making himself a quick sandwich. “Hi baby!” You greet him, reaching out for him.

“Oh, hi baby.” He says, following up with an air kiss. He breaks into laughter at your scowl. “Sorry, you don’t want this grease on you. It smells terrible and it’s not fun to wash off.”

“But there’s no grease on your lips.” You point out, staring at those pretty pink lips of his.

“Baby, I cannot kiss you without touching you and there is grease all over my hands.” He chuckles, holding them out.

You want to point out that he’s getting things dirty with grease in the kitchen, including his sandwich, by his own logic, but you have a feeling you won’t get away with it very easily. “Fine. Come see me when you’ve had a shower then.” You tell him, attempting to waddle back to the living room.

“Ah, ah.” Eddie tuts, grabbing your hand. “Come with me, after I shower, I need time with you in my bed.”

“In your bed? Or, in your bed?” You ask, your eyebrows furrowing suggestively at the second option.

“If you didn’t know the answer by now, clearly I haven’t done my job right.” He says in a lowly, his eyes darkening in an instant.

Eddie turns around to the sandwich he made as if he hadn’t said a word, grabbing it quickly before tugging on your hand to take you up the stairs.

He hops into the shower, you scroll through your phone on his bed as you wait, somewhat impatiently, your panties already uncomfortable from his stroll into the house in his work uniform.

Fuck, he was hot. You thought about him. His muscles, the slight glisten of sweat, and your phone was tossed aside before you even realized your hands were roaming over your body. You close your eyes, the image of him busy at work on his back on one of those…rolly things in your head. His forearms flexing, the look of concentration on his face.

Your hands itch for your center and you can barely hold back anymore, thankful you opted for a pair of stretchy shorts. Your fingers graze your center easily, rolling around in small circles as you picture the easy access his coveralls would give you, showing up with a dress and no panties and just riding him in his office. Fuck, maybe you wouldn’t even make it there. Goddamn, the images were too hot, your panties finding their way around your ankles as you grind up against your own fingers.

“Fuck.”

Your eyes fling open to see your boyfriend in his towel. You were so wrapped up you didn’t even notice the water from his shower turn off. He’s staring, open mouthed and eyes dark, and Jesus… This was a fantasy of yours from the beginning. You continue, staring half lidded back at him, hand grabbing up at his bed frame when it started to feel so fucking good.

Eddie’s towel drops when his brain catches up, jumping into his bed to lay next to you. “Couldn’t even wait, huh?” He asks, and you let out a whimper as he lightly kisses your neck. “Just couldn’t fucking wait.”

“You were so hot—” you gasp out, moving faster on yourself now. “—in that goddamn uniform. Wanna…wanna ride you in it.”

The very indication that you were playing with yourself because you found him that hot in his uniform is too much for Eddie to process. He nearly moans, leaning for another kiss on your neck. His hands are itching to help you, itching to take off the rest of those clothes that hide your gorgeous body, but he holds back, needing to know more about it. “What—what were you thinkin’ ‘bout, baby?”

“You, in the uniform…” you tell him, your hips starting to move when your want grows. Why isn’t he helping?

“C’mon, baby. I wanna touch you but I just gotta know.” Eddie tells you, his voice gruff.

A gulp moves through your throat before opening your mouth to tell him. “Your dick out of the uniform, and me with no panties and a dress at your shop, riding you anywhere…your office, the rolly thing, god, just you in that uniform…Ed…”

Goddammit, was that an idea Eddie certainly had before. He has wanted to show you around his workplace, but also christen it with you, and he had had the exact idea with his uniform and you in a dress, to boot. “Fuck, my horny, eager little slut, hey?” Eddie asks, watching your closed eyes as you continue to work yourself.

“Please…please touch me?” You ask him, the torture of his voice there but not actually helping you is too much. “Want…want you.”

“Hmm. Horny little slut didn’t wait for me…I dunno if she even deserves my help.” He bluffs, wanting nothing more than to reach out and feel the slick of your wet pussy.

You nearly cry out in protest, not calling him on his bluff. “I’m sorry, couldn’t help myself…you’re just so…fuck…you’re so fucking hot, Ed.”

He leans in to kiss you and you accept it gratefully, a smile against his lips. As his lips move against yours, deepening the kiss to easily work his tongue against yours, his hands land on yours against your pussy delicately, gently pulling your fingers to the side. He slides a digit in and you whimper into his mouth, your hips thrusting up. “Oh, so fucking desperate.” You nod your head, agreeing with him. You’re desperate for more. Even with Eddie on your mind, your fingers never even compared to his.

He leans into your neck, the scent of his aftershave and body wash strong but oh-so-goddamn good. He slides your shirt up your torso smoothly with his free hand and pulls it from your neck fiercely. You feel his hand somewhat desperately go around your back to unhook your bra, and as it falls casually over the edge onto the floor, he moans at the sight of your exposed tit, your nipple just begging to be touched.

He leans in to mouth the bud, and you whimper at the sensation. He pauses, breathing heavily and open mouthed onto it. You gasp, his hot breath sending waves down your body. “Fuck, so pretty.” Eddie mutters to himself, dark eyes watching your face as you get closer.

A desperate hand of yours tugs him up to your face, desperate for more of his wet and hypnotizing kisses. “Fuck me.” You gasp, suddenly feeling that his fingers weren’t enough. “Need…need your cock. Please.”

Eddie’s mouth opens at the prospect of you simply begging for him, and you can feel a shift in his energy as he starts to kiss you deeper and hungrier. “When you beg so sweetly, how could I possibly say no?” He hums, his hand framing your face.

He finishes yanking the last of your pants off your ankles. As he settles himself in between your legs, he can’t help himself. He leans down, taking one long lick along your folds, for just a taste. You whimper in response, knees springing up to your chest. Eddie chuckles, crawling up slowly until his chest lines up with yours, the tingle of him against you too much to handle. Slowly, he moves into you, and as he stretches you open, your eyes roll back and your toes curl. Eddie watches the utter bliss that takes over your face.

“Oh that beautiful face you make, sweetheart.” He grunts, smoothing his hands over your forehead. His words make you pulse around him. “This fucking tight little pussy wrapped around—” he stops, grunting as you continue to pulse around him. One hand moves down to your hip, caressing it softly he uses the leverage to buck into you.

A hushed swear comes out of you, the simple pleasure from his cock alone sending you into euphoria. Eddie continues slowly, enjoying every inch of your heat around him. “Your pussy…god how did I live without it?”

You clutch onto him, staring up into his darkened brown eyes. You open your mouth to respond in kind, but the particularly harsh rut into you leaves your mouth gasping open and your eyes fluttering shut in pure heaven. “Oh, that’s it.” He mutters, hips moving faster. “That’s my cock-drunk little whore.”

Your nails scratch down his back, and he moans in response. “Eddie, your cock. There’s…I…please.”

“I-I know, baby. I know.”

He collapses onto your chest, and you feel his cock twitch into you as your orgasm takes over your body. His hand carefully sweeps your sweaty forehead as he watches you recover, your eyes losing their haze as you return to earth. “Hi.” He mutters, leaning in to kiss you softly.

“Hi.” You smile. For once, he does take his dick out of you right away, despite your protests. However, you can’t protest any further when he comes back and wraps his arms around you with his chest pressed against your back, his still steadying breaths lulling you into a quiet nap.

Somehow, you know that his arms are always going to be the best place in the world.

-

About an hour later, you’re snuggled against his side, legs intertwined as Eddie watches his show and you work on a crossword puzzle. “What’s a six-letter word for angry?” You ask him, stumped for a good minute.

“Uh…grumpy? Heated? Hmm…raging?”

“Raging! Fuck, I couldn’t get that one. Thanks, baby.” You tell him, receiving a kiss on the head as a response. “Why’d you go in for work, Ed?”

“Other than making my baby horny?” He jokes, muttering it into your hair. “Well, one of my best-known clients called and my men know that when he calls, they need to call me in, because his car is just—” he cuts himself off, holding out the OK sign. He continues talking about the mechanics/politics of handling a car like this in his job. The caliber, the horsepower, the specialized engine, and everything else.

It’s not like you know a whole lot about cars. Most of what he is saying comes out as gibberish. But you listen to him, watching as he gets more and more animated, his hands gesturing wildly as he excitedly explains his morning. You watch him, a soft smile creeping up your face as he describes…what, you weren’t even sure, to you.

He stops as he notices the peculiar look on your face, your eyes glazed over. “What?” he asks, wondering if you caught even a word of his story.

“I love you.” It comes out before you even realize. But it’s true.

With your whole chest, you love him.

Eddie inhales sharply, and he looks at you like you had placed each star in the sky just for him. Because you did. “I-I’ve been wanting to say that to you since I first saw you.”

His words feel both impossible and like they make the most sense in the entire world. Because since day one, you have been captivated by him in every sense imaginable. Taking the time to get to know, see and love every inch of him before recognizing that yes, this is love.

This all occurs to you within a second, because Eddie’s hand is framing your face and you feel his lips on yours, deep and caring to a point that takes your goddamn breath away. Your tongue collides with his, and his fingers are so gentle as they cradle your face it barely feels like he’s holding it. He tastes so good, like the air you breathe is suddenly useless, and all you need to do is breathe him. His fingers intertwine in your hair, he gasps as his forehead collides with your own, clinging onto you for dear life.

“Will you say it?” You ask, realizing he still hasn’t.

“I fucking love you.” He says in a low, soft voice. He uses a hand to force you back and you open your eyes to look into his beautiful brown ones. “I love you.”

Your chest inflates rapidly, like all the emotion just bursts into it. A giggle escapes your lips, the smile on your face seeming to be permanently etched there. He tugs you into the tightest hug, and you feel his heart beat rapidly against your own as your arms fling themselves around his torso, burying your head in his neck.

God, it’s like you fit perfectly there.

He slouches down, ignoring the book you dropped and the forgotten tv show, and lays you down, chest to chest, his arms wrapped around you as you curl into his chest. He nestles his nose into your hair, breathing you in, feeling the breath, the life in you as you breathe in sync with him.

Any sense of time, responsibilities, or the outside world become muted and pale in comparison.

It’s just you and him.  

-

The sizzling sounds of bacon for dinner mixed with Eddie’s humming to some oldies fill the kitchen. Every time he turns around from the stove to grab something, he shoots you a smile that captivates his face, something that you wholeheartedly return each time. The acknowledgement that this is love somehow didn’t feel like it had tied you to anything or that any new expectations were put on either one of you. You simply want his company and he, yours.

You scroll through your phone absentmindedly, though the sight of his hips in his low sitting sweatpants are much more enticing than anything your phone’s algorithms have to show you. Playfully, Eddie keeps dancing a little too hard to the music, head banging and swinging his hips to even the softest of Dad Rock.

God, it’s Heaven. As Eddie serves up a few plates, Dylan comes down dressed in one of his better date night outfits.

“Ooh, hot date?” You ask him, leaning forward onto the kitchen island.

Dylan’s brows furrow, stopping mid stride. “Yeah. Not talking to you about that. You’re still my ex. And you’re still seeing my dad. Weirdo.”

Eddie sends a glare his way, eyes darkening in a split second. Dylan rolls his eyes, sneaking around him to grab a bite of bacon. Ignoring it, Eddie places a plate in front of you with eggs, bacon and toast, and you thank him as he leans in for a kiss.

“Love you.” Eddie mutters, and you smile into his lips and feel him do the same.

“L-love?” Dylan spits out, his voice exasperated. He shakes his head, still chewing on the bacon. “Fuck right off.”

“Dyl.” Eddie starts, leaning forward as he takes a bite from his toast. He has a devious smile on his face, chewing on his idea. “Quiet. The adults are talking.”

If you had expected something out of pocket, it certainly wasn’t that.

The brown eyes Dylan shares with his father widen in pure exasperation. “What?? Dad, I’m six months older than her!”

You barely keep in the laughter that bubbles out of your chest. Eddie grins at you and lets out his own chuckle. “That’ll teach you to be an ass, huh?”

Dylan doesn’t respond, just grits his teeth and yanks one more piece of bacon before leaving through the front door.

-

Dylan Munson got dealt a dirty fucking hand from whoever the fuck is in charge of this shit.

It was only a mere nine weeks ago when you made your way across the mixer to say hi to him that he thought things were going his way. The more he saw you, the more he thought that this had to be leading to something. It made sense to him, but as he had started mentioning long term plans or anything of the like, he could feel you clam up. Every time he mentioned something requiring commitment, your shoulders tensed up, your face winced by only a smidge, but when it became a regular occurrence, Dylan realized you might not have been ready as you thought you were.

He was willing to accept it. So, he took matters into his own hands. Honestly, he would’ve been fine paying the daily fee for parking, but he knew his dad was there, and he was excited to introduce you to him. Boy, what a shit show that turned out to be.

As he woke up to an empty bed, he had expected you to be downstairs. Instead, he was faced with a bowl of cereal without the milk, and he couldn’t tell how long it had been there. He searched the whole house. Your bag, clothes, and shoes were still there, so he knew you couldn’t have gone far. Turns out, he was right. You didn’t. You went two doors down from his own.

The sight of you and his fucking dad in the white sheets was already too much to bear, and then the stab of betrayal from his own father hurt more the initial shock of yours, tugging angry tears from his eyes as he ran to his room. The torture of hearing your whimpers, a sound he knew well, while downstairs trying to cheer himself up was fucking brutal.

When you finally left, his dad came home with a terribly apologetic look on his face as he walked through the front door. Dylan refused to hear a damn word out of his mouth, dismissing all his claims of ‘holding back as long as he could’ and ‘I’ve never felt this strongly about anyone before.’ Shit just hurt.

A day later, Dylan couldn’t hold it in anymore. He screamed at the top of his lungs, the anger finally kicking in. His dad did yell back, but mostly at the choice words aimed at you. It hurt for a moment, as it felt like he cared more about someone he had met last week, his (now ex) girlfriend.

When you and his dad showed no signs of slowing or stopping any time soon, he realized this would become a new normal. Didn’t mean he liked it.

He came home after a relatively long day at work to you and his dad sitting and watching a movie comfortably. His knee jerk reaction was to swear angrily, but the look on your face stuck with him. You had never relaxed with him. You were always looking around corners or there was some part in your body unable to lean into him completely.

As you apologized awkwardly on his bed, his hurt finally felt acknowledged by you, and fuck, he needed to hear that he didn’t do anything wrong. He genuinely started to wonder if he did.

Most of his nights he spent going out, his friends asking where the hot new girlfriend he was bragging about now was. He just said you cheated on him and it was over and they called you a bitch and moved on.

Yes, even Ethan. (The one friend you actually liked)

He drowned his sorrows in alcohol, always making his way back to the house where his ex was expected to be at any given time. God, it was so shit.

After your apology, though, he had to admit, you looked good together. It seemed like his dad’s smile just hadn’t left his face for days, and goddamn, was it annoying to admit that you were good for him. That remaining anger seemed to itch at him, unable to forgive or forget, a buried hatchet with an X to mark the spot.

Ethan eventually brought his girlfriend to boys’ night out, which was met with disgruntled groans from the collective group. Ethan’s girlfriend invited a friend who would be joining, and Dylan fought hard not to roll his eyes.

An hour into the night, a drink, and a few good dances in, Ethan’s girlfriend brought her in, and Dylan stopped dead in his tracks. Okay, no one said she would be fucking gorgeous.

If Dylan thought you were out of his league, then Maya wasn’t even playing the same game. His heart pounded out of his chest, and he knew he had to grab this girl a drink and get her number, now. As he pulled into an easy conversation with her, the hairs stood on his arms as it felt electric just being near her.

Maya met his enthusiasm, agreeing to a date within the first hour of conversation with him. One of his buddies mentioned Dylan had been cheated on by his most recent girlfriend, and Maya was floored. If any girl was lucky enough to have him, how could they even think of cheating?

As Dylan rode home in the backseat of his friend’s truck, drunk on her undivided attention and, well, plain ol’ drunk, something his dad had said came to mind. “I can’t explain it, I just had to know her. In every sense of the word.”

He felt the same way about Maya. Everything about her drew him in. Her smell, the way her jeans hugged her hips, the shine of her red hair. God, she was fucking beautiful.

As he smelled bacon on the way down the stairs, he decided to grab a piece on his way out to his first date with Maya, jitters galore. You asking him about the date was kind, but still too weird for him to gush about the gorgeous girl from the bar he met when that ‘gorgeous girl’ was once you.

Love you, his dad said. The word struck him, it occurred to him he doesn’t truly understand how much you and his father cared for one another. The L word didn’t come easily to Munson men, after all. Dylan walked to his car, disgruntled as the interaction rolled over in his mind.

What a mess he would be bringing her home to, if he ever got lucky enough.

-

Since you worked the next day, you had to go home for the night. The lingering kisses at Eddie’s door were too much to bear.

Too much for Eddie, too. You get a text about twenty minutes after you get home, Need you.

You grit your teeth, you need him, too. Working four days in a row sounds manageable, at least it usually does. Without Eddie to come home to or to wake up with, it’s nearly torture. You ignore Skylar’s comment of codependency. Fuck co-dependency, it isn’t that you depend on him too much, you just need him too much. You need to come home to him, to sit and watch tv with him… It’s the domestic bliss you miss.

Somehow, just reading a book at the end of the night without his even breaths has you on edge. You shoot him a text letting him know you’d be there soon.

As you walk through the doorway of Eddie’s house, he welcomes you and you hop into his arms, inhaling his shampoo as soon as you get close enough to, his familiar scent bringing you an indescribable feeling of safety.  “Need you to stop leaving for so long.” He mutters, feeling nearly crazy for missing you so much while you were gone.

You hum in response, staring into his pretty eyes as they stare down at you lovingly, resting your chin on his chest.

“Move in with me.” It’s impulsive.

You blink, unable to register what he just said. “Uh, what?”

He chuckles, hoping the stunned look on your face is a good thing. “It’s stupid for you to keep moving back and forth between here and your apartment all the time. Move in with me.”

It’s a tempting offer. Could you do it? Realistically, could you bring your things in, set up your skin care routine in his bathroom, have a horde of snacks at your disposal, bring Bethany over for sleepovers…is it possible? He watches as you think it through, and his heart skips a beat as he watches it falter. “I-I can’t. Not yet, at least.”

His head tilts curiously, eyebrows furrowed. “Hmm?”

“I’m still tied to my lease for another three months.” You can’t abandon Sky, not after all this time. “Skylar would be pissed if I just up and left her to either scramble for a new roommate or for a new apartment.”

Was that it? “Oh,” Eddie says, relieved. “I can pay that.”

His answer momentarily stuns you, and a gorgeous laugh escapes his lips as he takes in your slack jaw and wide eyes. “W-what?”

He leans in, kissing your lips sweetly. “Sweetheart. I’m not gonna wait another ninety days when I can just pay it now and get you here tomorrow.”

“You’ll pay my half?” You ask, eyebrows raised, a light smile on your face.

“What’s your rent?”

“1800 for the apartment, we both pay 900 plus utilities.”

He does the quick math. “Oh, so 54 (hundred) to buy the lease out? Yeah, I’ll pay it. Might relieve Sky from being pissed at me for stealing her roommate.”

The casualty of his words drench your underwear, his urge to take care of you sending a heat to your center you can’t explain. You lean in, swiping your tongue on his bottom lip, showing your appreciation. “Can-can we go upstairs?” You ask him, out of breath.

Eddie smiles, taking in your lust-blown eyes and slack expression. “You know that’s not why I offered, right?”

The overwhelming happiness bubbles up from the inside and you shoot a wide smile up at him, chin resting on his chest again. “I know. Still, baby. Want you. Please,”

Eddie smirks, framing your face with his thumbs lightly. “When you say it so nicely, how could I ever refuse?”

You tug him by the hand and start running up the stairs. A yelp echoes through the house as Eddie grabs at your ass near the top, and when he lies down on the bed, you can’t get his cock down your throat fast enough.

-

To say the least, Sky couldn’t find it in her to be angry. She was going to miss you, more than she could describe as her roommate. She also had a three month warning to find a new roommate or a new apartment and had ample time to put at least some money aside while she didn’t have to pay for rent. She really had nothing to complain about. Still, she was gonna miss you.

As soon as the lust of him offering to take care of you died down, you went into overdrive, remembering how stressed you were when you had to move in your current apartment, a lease you’ve renewed twice now. You started making a list of things you needed, working between your phone and a random spiral notebook you found in a junk drawer. How many boxes did you need to get? If you used both Eddie and Dylan’s trucks how many hours would it take to move down the stairs-only building you had?

“What’re you working on?” You hear his voice over your shoulder.

“Oh, just working out the kinks of moving. My car won’t be enough, I’ll need your guys’ trucks to help. I also have my own furniture to worry about. The entertainment center is hers, but the couch is mine. My dresser, my bed, my bathroom shelf, all my bathroom junk—”

“Baby.” He interrupts you, a hand sliding up to your neck. “Relax. I can hire someone to take care of all of this for you. Just focus on packing your things and directing the men around on where to put them.” He places his hands delicately beneath your chin. “Ok?”

Fuck, you might just blow him again.

“Ok.”

And you did just that. You shared your list to Eddie’s phone, who called a smaller moving truck with three men to assist, hired an organizer to assist in organizing what you do or don’t need and who will handle selling your furniture, and finally, paying the rest of your rent to your front office without blinking an eye to get you out of the lease.

Soon, you were on the driveway on a hot day, watching as all the boxes containing your clothes, shoes, makeup, and other junk went up the stairs to Eddie’s (and now your) bedroom, a few staying downstairs.

He stands next to you in a white muscle shirt with a band you don’t know pictured on the front and some sweats, hands on his hips as he watches the movers go back and forth between the house and the truck. He radiates authority, each mover couldn’t be much older or younger than you, but they all look to him with respect, all of their words followed by the word ‘sir’.

“Sir, huh?” You ask, teasing him.

Eddie slightly grimaces, rejecting it. “Yeah, they insisted.”

“Dunno, kinda suits you.” You tease, and you walk back to the house, missing the audible gulp that comes from his throat, imagining it. You, on your knees, begging for him, calling him sir…

“Sir?” One of the movers asks, getting his attention. He flicks back, seeing the clipboard held in front of him. “Need you to sign.”

“Oh, shit, sorry.” He mumbles, picking up the pen to sign.

As he signs his name, Dylan pulls up, taking in the men, the truck, the boxes on the floor visible past the open front door. “She’s moving in?”

Eddie looks at him, apologetic. He had asked you yesterday, and since then, he hasn’t had time to sit down and tell Dylan in person. “Sorry, bud. Kind of just happened all at once.”

Dylan thinks of his new girlfriend’s apartment, the night he had just spent wrapped up in her sheets. “I-I get that.”

Eddie blinks, expecting more of a push-back. “So, dad. I met this girl.” Oh, that explains it. “She’s…” the smile that lands on Dylan’s face is peaceful, and Eddie feels both curious and reassured. “Anyway. I wanted to bring her over for dinner to introduce her. Is that okay?”

A firm hand lands on Dylan’s shoulder, bringing him for a hug. “Of course, bud. When did you want to bring her over?”

“Friday at 6?”

It’s Wednesday, so that gives you both ample time to unpack and get the house ready for a dinner guest. “Friday works. Bring her over.”

“Hey, do you guys need any more help with the boxes?” He asks, running into the house.

Eddie doesn’t answer as he stands, stunned at the change in his son over the last, what, week?

The next two days make Dylan realize although he was in a much forgiving mood, he’s going to need to move out and fast. Just when he thought the two of you were bad, he didn’t realize how much worse you’d be when you moved in. In hindsight, he wasn’t sure how he didn’t see it coming.

Soon, he texted a friend he knew who was looking for another apartment about maybe moving in together after realizing your moans were not coming from your bedroom as he grabbed his keys and booked it for the front door.

You were on Eddie’s laundry room floor, wrapped in his arms, with only your shirt around your torso and his hair halfway out of its ponytail. You were still in the middle of recovering; Eddie edged you twice before finally letting you finish. “Did you hear the front door close?” Eddie asks, still breathing heavily as he does.

“N-no.” You gasp, moving your head up to face him, his chest hair tickling your chin. “Were we that loud?”

Eddie laughs, letting a thumb pet your face lightly. “Have you ever tried to be quiet, sweetheart?”

You shut him up with a kiss, slippery, but filled to the brim with everything you had. “Shut up.”

“I love you.” He mutters as you wrap yourself in his arms, and you whisper it back into his chest. “We do have company coming over, so we should probably finish unpacking.”

You groan lightly, but Eddie takes your hands and forces the two of you onto your feet, your knees lightly buckling. “I have so much stuff! There’s so much left to unpack.”

“Oh, I’m sure unpacking yourself into the second half of the walk-in is so hard, baby. C’mon, I’ll help you out.”

Again, Eddie’s house looks humble from the outside, but it was nothing to snark at. As he made more money, he slowly upgraded and renovated instead of just moving into a bigger house. The one upgrade that wasn’t really for him, but a constant reminder of what he lost, was the his-and-hers closet he had made for his ex, something she only enjoyed for six months before leaving him. He was excited to see your dresses, skirts, pants, and underwear in his closet, and especially your smell. Basically, he was excited for your invasion of the house.

You walk over to his–your–room where there are still boxes sitting, waiting to be unpacked. You start unpacking the one labeled dresses/skirts. As you start laying out a pile, separating the skirts you knew you weren’t gonna wear from the ones you would, Eddie sidled up beside you, pulling one you knew looked good on you up from the pile you weren’t gonna wear. “Hey, hey. Why haven’t I seen you in this one?”

You hesitate in your answer, pulling two more dresses out before answering. “Dylan fucked me while I wore that.” You admit, and he drops it immediately. He pulls another one up, hands moving over the silky blue fabric. Damn that one looked great on you. “That one, too.”

He drops it unceremoniously, hands moving to his hips. “Which ones hasn’t he touched you in?”

You put your hands on the much smaller, less appealing pile. “These.”

Eddie sighs, scratching his head. “Alright. We’re going shopping.” He announces, placing the pile of your old ‘rejects’ onto the floor.

“Huh?” You ask him, not sure you heard him correctly.

“Yep. Just leave all the clothes in a pile right there, and on Saturday I’m taking you shopping.”

“Baby, I work Saturday.”

“So call in.”

After Eddie helps you settle in for the next day and a half, you spend a good portion of your Friday in the kitchen, working in tandem to make supper together. You place plates at the dining room table Eddie and Dylan barely used, straighten up the napkins and the utensils when Eddie comes from behind you, and you feel his cock press right up against your ass. You grind back into it, closing your eyes and whimpering.

“Ed, they’ll be here in like,” you let out a sigh, “half an hour.”

He turns you, giving you a dirty kiss and gripping your hips harshly. “Then we better get moving.” He slips your dress up your hips and your underwear down.

“Hmm…take off your pants.”

He slips his cock in, bending you over the table, making you gasp. “Already off, baby.”

-

Dylan pulls up in his truck, now having to park in the same spot you did in the street since you took over his spot on the driveway. “So, this is my house.”

“For three more weeks?” Maya asks, teasing him.

He lets their hands intertwine, leading her to the door. “I did grow up here.”

“Yet your dad is kicking you out.” She says, eyes narrowed.

“No, not kicking me out…” He drifts off, when Maya’s green eyes silently ask him, he dismisses it. “I’ll tell you later. C’mon.” He unlocks the front door, and as soon as it’s open, a very peculiar, very annoying sound is heard echoing in the house.

“Fuck, Ed, oh shit.”

Maya’s eyes go wide, it takes her a second longer to understand what they were listening to than it did for Dylan. Dylan shuts the front door, shoving his hand into his pocket for his phone. He dials his dad right away. “…Hello?” Eddie asks after three rings.

Dylan puts him on speaker. “Dad, wrap it up, we’re here.”

“Shit, sorry. Give us five—” the sound of your giggles interrupts him, “sorry, ten minutes. W-we’ll call you.”

He hangs up.

Maya’s face is the picture-perfect expression of what the fuck. “Dyl, when you said your family dynamic is odd…”

“I meant it. C’mon, let’s go for a walk to the corner store.”

Maya is taken aback, but she easily falls in line as Dylan holds his hand out for her. “Can’t believe the first thing I heard from your dad was that.”

“Darling, I have never meant it more than I have right now.” Dylan assures her, and she can see how much he means it in his brown eyes. “My dad has met my girlfriends in worse situations. Just be glad we didn’t see anything…’cause that was not coming from their bedroom.”

-

Eventually, you had to go upstairs to find a new dress to wear, Eddie having completely soiled it during your tryst as he phoned Dylan to let them know they were in the clear. Turns out, the two of you had time blindness when it came to one another, because neither of you were even close to done when Dylan had called.

As you climb down the stairs, there’s a knock on the door, and Eddie meets you there in time to open it to face Dylan and his new girlfriend. It was an intriguing feeling, opening the door to Dylan while Eddie’s arm was behind your back. Like a couple welcoming their son home. It was…bizarre to say the least. “Hey, sorry about—”

“It’s fine, dad. Rather not talk about it.” Dylan insists, his arm around a pretty redhead.

“Sure. Come on in.”

They step in, Maya taking a look around at the place as she does. “Maya, this is my dad and his girlfriend, Y/N. Guys, this is Maya.”

You weren’t used to Dylan being suddenly so cool with you and Eddie being together. He’s never out loud said that you were his dad’s girlfriend before without rolling his eyes or gagging. Whatever he had with Maya seemed to bring him some peace.

Thank god, you didn’t know if you could handle more eye rolls from Eddie’s 25-year-old teenage son. “Maya! Nice to meet you.” You hold your hand out to her, which she accepts graciously.

You remember meeting Eddie as a father to Dylan, and while your thoughts were occupied, whatever you were expecting for Dylan’s dad, it certainly wasn’t Eddie. You could see it clear in her face she wasn’t expecting this metalhead, either.

“Hi, Mr. Munson, nice to meet you.” She extends her hand to Eddie, and Eddie just about loses his mind.

“Ew. Don’t. Call me Eddie. Please.” Eddie gags, the same reaction he had when you addressed him that way when you first met.

“Oh. Sorry. Nice to meet you, Eddie.”

Eddie smiles back, purposefully dressing himself down as a parental figure. You could tell he was poising himself differently for them. Whether it was self consciousness over the last time he met a girlfriend, or making it clear to Dylan he had no plans for a second contender, it did the job.

“Alright, the dining room is this way.” You extend your hand out down the hall, leading the way out of a somewhat awkward situation.

The four of you sit at the table, both men at the heads of the table while you and Maya sit across from one another. Eddie picks up the salad bowl, plating himself quickly and handing it over to you. “So, Dylan. Tell us how you and Maya met.”

They both start the story, eager to share. “Oh, can I tell, Dyl? You always get to.”

“Fine by me.”

Maya giggles softly before facing you and Eddie. “Well, my best friend sort of ditched me to tag along to guys’ night, and I refused to be ditched, so I got myself ready and ended up being fashionably late. When she invited me, I was already done for the night, pajamas and all but I got dressed up out of pure spite.” You chuckle, that’s something Bethany would do. “I got to the club, and suddenly I saw Dylan, and I didn’t want to talk to anyone else for the rest of the night.” She looks over to him, her eyes soft and her pink lips in a sweet smile. “He just drew me right in. We talked for so long we didn’t even realize it was time for last call.”

“Wow.” You comment, taking the last bowl in rotation from Eddie’s hands, the stir-fry vegetables. “Sounds like you guys have a great connection.” You look at Dylan at the last word, hoping he receives your message.

“Oh, we truly do.” Maya grins, Dylan shooting a wink at her in response.

Eddie grabs your hand under the table, and you hold it, petting at the tough skin and colliding with his rings.

“Our first date was incredible.” Maya mentions off-hand but doesn’t elaborate. If it was anything like your first date with Eddie, you knew better than to pry further. “So Dylan told me how you guys met, tell me about that.”

You and Eddie share a look of surprise at how casually she mentions it. You weren’t expecting her to know yet, in fact you were wondering if Dylan was going to tell her at all. Eddie lets out a chuckle. “A shitshow, let’s just say. When Dylan found us, it just became real messy in here.”

Unfortunately, Eddie missed the continuous waving Dylan was doing across the table to stop, please!

“How would meeting online make things messy?” Maya asks, the story Eddie had just told her and the story Dylan explained not exactly lining up.

“What?” Eddie asks, now unsure himself.

Your hand meets your mouth in understanding, facing Dylan with his head in his own hands. “Baby, I don’t think he told her, yet.”

“Nope.” Dylan musters out, annoyed.

“Oh.”

“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” Maya asks, watching everyone’s facial expressions one by one.

Dylan sighs, not ready to explain this part. “They didn’t meet online. Remember, my ex? The one who cheated on me?”

Maya rolls her eyes. “Of course I remember that bitch.” She says, giving you a look that says, ‘am I right’.

Dylan sighs, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Uh, Maya?”

“Hmm?”

“That’s her.” He says, pointing to you. “She cheated with my dad.”

Maya looks at you, dumbfounded, as you wave with a tight smile on your face. Being called that cheating bitch behind your back was certainly a new development from him. Not the…greatest feeling in the world. She looks to Eddie, who isn’t smiling, somewhat insulted on your behalf, but gives a friendly wave nonetheless.

“O-oh.”

“I said my family dynamic is different, didn’t I?”

“I thought you meant with how young she is…”

“There’s that…and there’s this. It used to hurt me a lot more, but honestly, since I met you, I don’t really feel that pain anymore.” He says to her. “I wish we could’ve had this conversation in private, but I guess I didn’t warn them.” A new hardness reaches Maya’s eyes as she looks at you, and you’re slightly taken aback by it. “Don’t be mad at them, because I’m not anymore. Well, mostly anyway. My dad said when he met her that he had to know everything about her or he was going to lose his mind.” You look to Eddie, and he winks at you slyly as you mouth the words I love you to him. “I used to think that was bullshit… But when I met you, Maya, I felt the same way, and I realized I couldn’t blame them for pursuing it if it was half as strong as what I felt when I saw you.”

The ice in Maya’s stare all melts the gloss in her eyes. “That’s still super messed up.”

“One hundred percent.” Dylan looks over to you and Eddie, and you’re wondering if the two of you were supposed to leave the table and give them privacy. “But now…they look good together. They’re good for one another. She puts this smile on his face that I never get to see anymore, and she seems more happy with him than she ever was with me.”

Your phone buzzes in your chair under your thigh. A text from Eddie. For the record, no one feels as strongly for anyone as I do for you. No one ever will.

You look at him and he nods once, his lips in a firm line. Your hands reach for his, interlocking with his. “Maya, I know you didn’t mean to but I would appreciate you not calling her a bitch.” Eddie tells her, parent voice on. “Now that we have all that out of the way, Maya, tell us what you do for work.”

-

Maya was a peach, and she seemed great for Dylan. As she helped clear the table she asked Dylan a question and it led to him announcing he was moving out. Out loud, Eddie gave him a proud hug, telling him it was a great idea.

To you, Eddie pumped his fist in celebration. As you washed the dishes that night, insisting Dylan and Maya go enjoy a movie on the couch, Eddie comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around you. “When Dylan finally moves out, I’m fucking you on every surface in this house. I might just tell you to stay naked for easier access.” He leaves a wet kiss on your neck, and you’re left to imagine the possibilities as he adjusts himself while clearing the rest of the table.

True to his word, as Saturday dawns, Eddie wakes you up two hours before you start work and tosses your phone to call in sick for it. You text your manager at his request, and as soon as you hit send, Eddie sends you to his bathroom to get ready for a shopping day. In your first outfit, a pair of shorts and an oversized sweater, Eddie looks up and down at you exasperated and tells you to go get all dressed up and put some makeup on.

When your hands land on your hips at this he backtracks hard. “Of course you can wear what you want, baby! I just know that you love to get all dressed up, and I thought it would be fun for you. That’s all. We’re going to be trying on lots of clothes and I want my girl feeling her best.”

Okay, he has a point. An hour passes by, Eddie moving around you as he gets dressed up himself, less dramatic than his date night outfit, but dressed up all the same. As you finish, a wing on your eye, he comes behind you, looking over your shoulder for something. “You know I used to wear eyeliner all the time?”

“I…no?” You stutter, turning to face him.

“Might put some on today.” He mutters, slightly teasing you.

“If you don’t want to scare the general public, maybe we’ll save it for a date night, Ed.” You yank the pencil away from him, terrified that if you look away for one second, he’ll go overboard.

“Not even a little on my water line?” He asks, and you suddenly realize that yes, he does want some makeup for the day.

“I don’t see why not.” You shrug.

Now you walk hand in hand in the largest mall in town, starting the journey down the large aisle, leading Eddie. But eventually, Eddie ends up leading you, knowing exactly which stores he wants to go to. In the first store he takes you to, you look around the racks timidly, putting away anything you see over 20 bucks. In less than five minutes, Eddie comes by with a pile of clothes in his arms. “I’m gonna get a dressing room started, ok?” He pauses, noticing the 45 dollar dress you just put back. “Ooh, can you hand me that?”

“No, it’s too much.” You insist, looking at the large pile of clothes he has. You thought he meant like, three or four items at the most.

“I didn’t ask how much it was, sweetheart. Hand it over.” He tells you, to which you do. Only five minutes later, as you have only picked out two or three more dresses yourself, does he swing by and tug you to the biggest dressing room, the walls decorated with clothing.

“I-I’m not trying all of this on, am I?” You look around, it would take you at least an hour, and that’s if you hurried.

“Yep. And you’re showing me every piece.” He says, before closing the door on your stunned face.

“Eddie, this is way too much.”

“No complaining, just show me the first one!” he yells to you, no real bark behind his command.

The first dress you wear was a bit revealing, an open back, up to your thighs with a cowl neckline that shows cleavage. He smiles at you, leaning his elbows onto his knees in the seat offered in the dressing room. “Nice… Do a spin.” You roll your eyes, spinning for him slowly and timidly. He whistles lowly. “Man, I’m good. Next!”

He asked for a spin in everything you modeled for him until he didn’t need to, you did it for him. With each new piece, you were learning to not care if you were in a store with him, posing for him as he assessed each piece. Some you thought looked decent on you, he put in the no pile, while others you thought were a sure no, he put in the yes. He told you ultimately, it was your decision and if you felt uncomfortable, you could put one in the no pile, but he knew your body better than anyone. If he insisted it looked good, it must’ve looked good.

At the last piece you put on, he can’t seem to decide, asking an attendant for her opinion. She says she thinks the shirt looks amazing on you but isn’t sure about the style of pants. “Yeah, I chose them just to see if you’d wear it.” You shook your head no, feeling uncomfortable in the business type pants. “Cool. Get dressed in your clothes, we have more stores to hit up.” You toss the shirt to him after yanking it off, and by the time you make your way to the register, the attendant is already handing over two oversized bags to him.

“Eddie, this is enough clothes, I really don’t need anymore!” You insist as he directs you to a store only three spaces over.

As soon as you walk in, they see the big bags Eddie’s carrying and immediately offer their assistance. Eddie rolls his eyes, knowing he only ever gets the star treatment if he’s walking around with the occasional designer bag. (He likes their underwear). “Well, I don’t know if you noticed, but the women’s side of our closet is huge, and you didn’t have nearly enough clothes to fill it anyway.”

Our closet. You’re so fixated on the use of the word our that you don’t realize he’s waiting for you to talk. “Doesn’t mean I need more.”

“Oh, that’s exactly what it means!” He turns to the employee who’s been following him around and hands her the bags. “Be a dear and hold on to these, will ya?” He turns back to you, resting one hand on the rack beside him and staring down at you intensely. “Baby. I want to spoil you. Let me. Please! Pick out some clothes you want, I’ll pick some out, too, and you can try them on.”

“You’ve spoiled me so much already!” You insist, gulping at the sincerity in his eyes. “You’re all I could ever ask for.”

“That’s exactly why I have to spoil you.” He retorts, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “I love you. Let me show you how much. I have a stupid amount in savings. I kind of want to chuck some out just to keep me humble.”

You giggle at this, finally, fully giving in to his madness.

Madness, it is. As you go from store to store, he gets about two more bags full from each one, and you’re sure some of these outfits will never see the light of day after you see how he looks at you in them. About ten percent will just be something you put on for about two seconds before he takes it off you. He’s buying dresses he knows he’ll be the only person to ever take them off or see you in them.

At one point, he runs back to his truck to put the eight bags he got tired of carrying around away, coming back to meet you in the store he left you in. It wasn’t much of a clothing store, but you had a basket of things you were planning to buy for yourself. Earrings, a knick knack for your desk, a cute notebook and the like. (There was a shirt you found for Eddie that you got just for the hell of it.) You're waiting in line, and you’re digging through your purse for your wallet when Eddie comes behind you, wallet out, card in the machine. “I—”

“Baby. Your money is useless today. Let me.”

You roll your eyes, and the cashier’s wide eyes at his pet-name for you catches your eye, a laugh escaping you. “Yeah, sorry. Guess I forgot to mention my boyfriend is also in his 40s.” You giggle, having just gushed about how Eddie was spoiling you to him.

“What? 40s? I’m clearly in my 20s.” Eddie asks, acting offended.

The poor cashier looks genuinely frightened, holding up his hands in surrender. “He’s joking. He is. Likes to make people squirm.”

“Oh I love to make you squirm—”

“Eddie!” You berate him, yanking him out of the store as he lets out a bout of laughter. He catches his breath, still laughing as you cross your arms, waiting impatiently for him to stop.

“Sorry, sweetheart, you made it too easy! C’mon, two more stores, then we can grab food.”

“Can I pay for food?” You ask, holding his hand.

Eddie smiles, petting your hand with his thumb. “Of course.”

The second to last store he brings you to is an underwear store. Eddie lets you do all the picking, following closely behind and offering any commentary when you ask for it. For once, he doesn’t insist that you model for him, claiming that just seeing you go through the lacier drawers of panties was torture enough. You walk out with a wardrobe’s worth of new underwear, bras, and a little bit of lingerie. It was the first time you were there to see the total, your eyes widening as Eddie takes out his card.

He smirks at your stunned expression. “Oh, this isn’t even the highest bill, sweetheart.” The transaction goes through and the kind lady behind the desks offers the bags to him. “This isn’t even half of it.”

The bill was at about 700 dollars, so the very idea drove you insane that he had already collected every receipt and refused to let you see them.

He brings you to one last store, wall to wall, covered in clothes. He goes a little ham this time, and you notice he focuses on basics. Sweatpants, sweaters, shorts, and under shirts. There’s one thing he chooses that has you struggling to get the zipper up, and eventually you call out for him for help after a good five minutes of fumbling .

He opens the curtain delicately so as to not reveal anything, and you look at him helplessly as your hand can’t reach the zipper sitting low on your ass. His fingers are light to the touch, as one hand rests on your shoulder, one on the zipper as it goes up to your neck, your hair held by your hands. You can’t help the shiver that runs through you as your hair curtains down around your neck, and you turn to face him, holding your hands out to silently ask him what he thought.

What does he think? He thinks that this fucking dress looks so good on you that it would be a crime to get you to start trying on those shorts and sweaters. Hell, you knew your size, you were probably good to go. It was much less revealing than any dress you tried on, a number he’ll probably get you to wear on your next date. He couldn’t help himself, surrounded by the privacy of the small room, he leans in to kiss you sweetly, one hand going up to frame your neck. “Baby.” He mutters, his voice sounding desperate. “You look…fucking gorgeous.”

You smile into it, your hand tracing the seam of his shirt along his torso. “Thanks. Help me out of it? I still need to try on all these clothes.”

His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, surprising you. A slight whimper escapes you as he backs you into the wall against a few clothing articles hanging there. “I will absolutely help you out of this dress.” He says, his voice husky and a touch of arousal lands in your underwear as you realize why. “But then I’m going to get my cock in you.”

“In-in here?” You ask, highly aware you’re in a public space.

“Mmhmm. Be quiet and no one will suspect a thing.” he says, hand slipping under the skirt of the dress to start palming at your folds over your panties. You whimper at the touch into his mouth, focusing all your energy on not alerting the kind sales lady that you were hooking up in her dressing room. “Oh, good girl, keeping herself quiet.”

“It’s…it’s hard.” You whimper, the light touches over your panties not enough, but still causing more arousal.

“So am I.” Eddie chuckles, watching your face as he teases you. He slips the hand into your panties, letting them drop on the floor. “Oh, so wet, huh?” He asks you, eyebrows furrowed as he plays with the slick on your folds.

“Mmhmm.”

“Does daddy buying all the pretty clothes make you all hot, baby?” He asks, voice in your ear and fingers rubbing at your clit gentle, but enough to start you to your destination. You nod your head, because on some level, this was a big turn on for you. “Oh, you horny little slut.”

“Good girl…” You whimper, and Eddie leans back from your shoulder. “Good girl. Please?” You ask him, the slut shaming wasn’t doing it for you.

“Oh, you wanna be called a good girl, huh? Daddy’s good girl?” You nod, your eyes closing as he starts to rub at your clit faster.

“Feels…feels good, Daddy…”

“Daddy’s gonna make you cum, and since you’re a good girl you’re not gonna make a fucking sound. Okay?” You nod, holding a whimper in your throat from the finger he slides into your heat. “Oh she’s close.” He mutters to himself, placing gentle kisses on your neck. “Fall apart on my fingers so I can fuck you, my good girl.”

Your mouth is open in a silent scream, an orgasm shaking through you as you wither against the dressing room wall.  

“Oh, that’s my good girl, such a good listener. Now, turn around and hold on to those hooks.” You do as he says, and as you brace yourself with your hands awkwardly against the hooks decorated with hangers, he zips the dress off you, lifting it over your head and nearly forgetting to muffle his own moan when he sees you aren’t wearing a bra. He lets his pants fall around his calves, and as his cock pushes you, you let your jaw open and eyes close, doing everything you could not to moan out loud.

He slowly bucks into you, and you close your eyes and lean against the wall headfirst while the scent of store clothes invades your senses. Soon, Eddie leans forward, forcing your torso up against his back as he places his ringed hand around you like a necklace. He kisses at the skin he can reach sweetly, eyes open as he watches your reaction to everything he does to you.

While the prospect of being caught by someone was hot, Eddie found himself watching for your visual reactions than listening for your audible ones. Hmm. He didn’t realize he had begun to rely on them. “How’s Daddy’s cock?”

“G-good.” You whisper, leaning into his chest with your head back against his shoulder.

“Gonna cum in you.” He mutters. He starts fucking into you a little harder, and it has to be perfectly timed because if he went all the way in, the sound of his balls against your pussy would be a dead giveaway.

“How’s everything in there?”

“Speak.” Eddie commands you, and you have to tear yourself from outer space for a moment.

“Great, thank you!”

“Just a reminder we try not to encourage two people in one dressing room.”

“She was just needing help with a zipper. Almost done.” Eddie pipes out, sounding relatively normal for someone seconds away from cumming.

“If you need any help or sizes, let us know.”

 “Thanks…” Shit, that sounded out of breath.

“Cum in me.” You whisper, and Eddie does just that, slowly fucking his way through his orgasm, his cheeks flushed, shirt clinging onto the sweat.

You nearly protest as he takes himself out and tucks himself back into his pants. At this point, you were so turned on you kind of wanted to blow him while you had him in the room. You hold his face in your hands and connect your foreheads. “Is it bad I still want more?” You mutter under your breath.

Eddie swears softly, his boner fighting harshly against his slacks. “Fuck. No, I do, too.” He tugs your naked self into his arms, kissing your hair softly. “But…she was suspicious. Unless we want to get kicked out, we should quit while we’re ahead.”

“Can I blow you when we get home?” You ask him, turning to grab your own clothes off the floor.

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head as he grabs the clothes scattered around the dressing room. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

It took multiple trips from Eddie’s truck to bring in all the bags. You truly didn’t realize how many pieces of clothing he had bought you until you saw it all scattered on the closet floor, all ready to be reorganized. Eddie starts hanging them, and you notice the outline of his cock in his slacks. He was still throbbing.

“Can I?” You ask, sitting pretty on your knees and looking up at him.

“Fuck, I’m never gonna say no to that.” Eddie answers, placing a hand under your chin.

You undo his pants, giving him a hungry look as his cock springs free. “You’re still hard?” You ask, knowing you’ve gotten food at the food court and walked around the mall a bit more before coming home.

“Mmhm.” You smile, jerking him lazily as you eye the length hungrily. You have the idea to tease him more, but the need to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue is too much. Eddie swears loudly as you take him in your mouth, gripping onto the center console for accessories and underwear. “Fuck”

You slowly bob your head up and down, staring up at him through your eyelashes as you relax your throat and allow your nose to meet his stomach. His hands skim through your hair, moving your head lightly, and again, you find it ridiculously easy to submit to him.

Eddie is uncharacteristically quiet, head thrown back in bliss as he feels the spit gather at his base. His stomach starts to tighten up a little bit and under your hands, his thighs are tense. Somehow it spells out to you he’s close.

You prepare yourself, moving your head faster on your own accord, opening your eyes at him again to watch for his reaction as you double down. A goddamn whimper escapes his throat as you continue, and suddenly it’s your goddamn mission to make him make that sound again. “Fuck, baby. Fuck…” Without any warning, the warm salty taste of his cum hits your tongue and you moan around him as he rides through his orgasm.

For once, as you wipe your mouth, you can tell he’s the one that needs recovery. You move to your feet, waiting for him to catch his breath. “Need some water?” You ask him, somewhat joking.

“The fuck was that?” He asks, his face in awe as he looks at you.

You give a cheeky and quick little kiss to the hand on your cheek. “Wanted to make you feel good.”

“Jesus Christ—” he tugs you into a hug, habitually kissing your hair. “How did I get so lucky?”

“Uh Ed.” You push lightly on his chest to get out of the hug, giving him a look of disbelief. You look gesture around the closet to the half of the clothes still not put away. “How are you the lucky one?”

Eddie’s face breaks into a wide smile, his dimples prominent, his smile lines deep. “You keep thinking that, darling.” He laughs, tugging you back into his arms.

As you stand there against his chest, relaxing into him with your eyes closed, the doorbell rings. “I’ll get it. You put away my clothes since you know where everything goes.”

“I did design this closet.” He retorts, pointing a finger at you.

You walk down the stairs to the front door, seeing a tall figure facing away through the smart glass. You open the door to a gorgeous set of brown locks, perfectly coiffed. The figure turns around, and clearly doesn’t expect to see you standing there. “Hey, Ed- whoa.” You recognize his face, but you aren’t sure where from. You subtly fix your hair; suddenly aware you had just given head to your boyfriend. “Uh, sorry, little lady. Is Eddie here?”

“He’s upstairs in the closet. Can I help you?”

The stranger smiles kindly, and you notice the freckles on his face are like constellations. “Oh sorry! I told him I’d be coming through town, but I forgot to say when. I’m Steve, Steve Harrington.”

-

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.

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#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x you smut #older eddie munson #older eddie munson x reader #older!eddie munson #older!eddie x reader

[tafeekafee]

🌹💙 Sorry

Part 1: Angel

Part 2: Nauseous

Part 3: Eclipse

Part 4: Take Me Down

지쳐버린 난 tonight

잊혀지지 않는 말

Hajoon was drunk. It had never been his intention but he hadn’t wanted to go home after talking with the lawyer. Why should he? He hadn’t wanted to see his … co-workers. Yeah, that’s all they were. Friends didn’t hate friends.

But now, inside the bar and several shots later, he felt numb. He had hoped the alcohol would make him feel good. It didn’t. Quite the opposite, he now felt like either crying or throwing up. Now even the previous buzzing effect had left him. If it wasn’t going to work he might as well just go home and face the others.

He flagged the barman, paid his tab and stumbled outside. The fresh air hit him in the face and he took a deep breath, pulling his cap into his face even more. He doubted people would recognize him but if they did he couldn’t drag the band down. Not more than he already did with his mere presence.

Hajoon called himself a taxi, not trusting himself to walk and not wanting to make anything harder if he was seen, and gave the address. Ten minutes later he stood in front of the entrance door and hesitated. He was dizzy, the world spinning a bit and the lights were on.

At least one of the others was home.

Any hope of just slipping undetected into his room vanished. Oh, hell. He fumbled with the keypad a bit, the numbers not quite where he thought they were. At last he was allowed entrance with his final try.

돌이킬 수 없어 sorry

이기적인 난 I'm sorry

Holding onto the wall, he made his way inside. He had taken only a few steps when he was met with a surprised shout of his name. Dojoon was standing at the end of the hall and ran towards him. What Hajoon did not expect was for the older man to hug him as soon as he reached him. What was Dojoon doing?

Woosung and Jaehyeong came into the hall as well, looking … relieved? Oh, they were probably worried about him ruining their reputation.

Hajoon could already imagine the headline: Pathetic drummer of band The Rose, Lee Hajoon, found stumbling drunk in the streets. Or worse: The Rose members decided to continue as three after disagreement with disappointing drummer Lee Hajoon. 

“Hajoon-ah, we were …”, Jaehyeong said, coming over to them. His eyes looked red. Hajoon was too drunk to try to understand why. Then the maknae sniffed. “Are you…? Hyung, are you drunk?”

“What?”, Woosung asked, materializing next to Hajoon. The drummer felt caged in by them and pushed Dojoon away from him. “Dylan, did you go out drinking?”

“And what if I did?”, Hajoon challenged the leader, “I’m an adult, I can take care of myself.”

Woosung looked angry again. “Please stop. You are acting like a child. You know better than to go out drinking alone, especially with your past. Do you want to get depressed again?”

Oh, so this is why Hajoon was called the true maknae. It wasn’t his shy and unassuming personality after all. They thought he acted like a child – the youngest. Maybe he was acting that way, he didn’t care. The lights were swirling above him and he really didn’t want to see the others anymore.

How dare Woosung bring his past into the conversation?

“Fuck you, Sammy”, Hajoon said and pushed past them, escaping to his room. He fell onto his bed, a position he had found himself in more and more often over time.

Getting up in the mornings was hard. He had had to move his alarm forward so he could forced himself out of his cozy safe haven in time. Between each schedule he found himself laying down and he was so tired at night he went to bed earlier than he had ever in his adult life. If he slept he didn’t have to think, well, if he managed to sleep at all.

His bed was safe, the place where nobody could hurt him. His bed was the only place he wasn’t judged. His bed didn’t care about his talents or personality.

But suddenly the bed wasn’t safe anymore. Footsteps – Jaehyeong – entered the room, coming to sit down next to him. Hajoon stubbornly ignored him. The maknae could fuck off too.

Then a gentle hand came to rest on Hajoon’s shoulder. “I know you are going through something, Hajoon-ah. We just want to help, please don’t run away. Just talk to us and maybe whatever is going on will end. We all aren’t happy like this.”

Hajoon just sobbed dryly.

흐려진 기억에 난 왜 또

힘들어져만 가는지?

Hajoon didn’t really remember falling asleep. He woke to unbearable nausea and before he knew it, he was throwing up all over himself. And the blanket. And, oh fuck, Jaehyeong. The younger must have fallen asleep next to him for some reason.

Now Hajoon was repaying him with puking on his lap. Shit. He couldn’t even stop himself from getting sick again and again until his stomach was empty of last night’s regrets.

And Jaehyeong was still staying next to him, having just turned both of them so Hajoon was throwing up over the side of the bed. He was even holding Hajoon’s hand. It was nice, except for the, you know, puking part.

When Hajoon looked down - after his stomach stopped turning itself out - he saw how much of a mess he had made. His head pounded.

“I’m so sorry, Jaehyeong”, he sobbed, “I’m sorry, I’ll clean up.”

“Hush”, the maknae said and loudly called for the hyungs. Hajoon flinched, the sound seemingly shaking his brain in his skull. Jaehyeong apologized.

Dojoon and Woosung were still in their sleep clothes when they arrived. While Dojoon was in old sweatpants and a T-Shirt, Woosung was just in boxers. Their states, especially with the looks of shock on their faces, would have been funny if Hajoon didn’t hate himself so much.

“Oh, kiddo”, Dojoon mumbled, still wide-eyed. But he came closer.

Woosung, always with a weak stomach, had turned pale and mumbled something about calling the manager as he fled the room.

“Leo, will you help Joon-ah get cleaned up? I’ll clean this up”, Jaehyeong said and gestured to the puddle of sick all over the bed and floor. Hajoon whimpered and subconsciously clutched the maknae’s hand tighter.

“I can clean up”, Hajoon repeated. It was disgusting but he couldn’t make the members to it for him.

“Nonsense”, Dojoon said, “you should get sorted out. Jeff, go with him.”

Was it just Hajoon’s imagination or did Dojoon sound short and angry? Well, he probably had wanted to sleep in, not clean up puke first thing in the morning.

돌이킬 수 없어 sorry

이기적인 난 I'm sorry

The bassist dragged Hajoon to the bathroom and helped him strip off his clothes, then pushed him towards the shower. “Do you need help? Are you dizzy or anything?”, Jaehyeong asked.

Hajoon shook his head. He wanted to be alone in his misery.

“Headache?”, Jaehyeong asked and Hajoon shrugged.

“I’ll leave you to shower. Call if you need help. Be careful.”

Hajoon was left alone.

I'm lonely

나만 홀로 남겨진 밤

„I told the manager you have a migraine, Joon-ah”, Woosung said, sitting on the bed by Hajoon’s hip. They had put Hajoon into Jaehyeong’s bed after the drummer had barely been able to keep standing between the headache, nausea and dizziness that might have been the result of a too hot shower. Hajoon had protested, not wanting to take Jaehyeong’s room but he had to admit that lying down in his own room reeking of vomit was not ideal.

The leader, while not good with bodily fluids, had not left Hajoon’s side since he had been returned to bed. Woosung didn’t seem angry with him, which was what confused Hajoon. Shouldn’t he be pissed that Hajoon got drunk and now they couldn’t even do their jobs because of him? It was standard migraine protocol to not leave Hajoon alone – so after lying to the manager Woosung had stayed behind with him. He had not agreed to leave like last time. Why?

Why would Woosung lie to the manager for Hajoon? Shouldn’t he use it as an example that Hajoon was unfit to be part of the group?

“Can we talk about why for fuck’s sake you got drunk so badly you are puking with a hangover? Or why you ran out of the practice room yesterday? Or anything that’s happened? Hajoon, you are not yourself anymore. Why?”, Woosung asked.

“I’m sorry, Woosung-ssi”, Hajoon whispered, ashamed, “I’ll do better from now on.”

That’s what Woosung wanted to hear, right? He could do better until his contract was ended and somebody else took his spot.

“Don’t shut yourself off, baby. Hajoon, sorry.”, Woosung replied, “We want to help you. Let us in, please.”

It sounded like Woosung was pleading, was scared. That could not be right. Hajoon must still be drunk, unable to read the older man.

“I’ve got it”, Hajoon said.

He could do it on his own. No need to make the others help him end this. He was the problem. Not them.

I'm sorry

가지마 잊지마 날

Next chapter: Alive

#Hajoon series #Kpop #The rose #Hajoon #Hajoon centric #hurt/comfort #Songfic #Angst #Woosung #Dojoon #Jaehyeong #Feeling insecure #Insecure hajoon #Lee hajoon #Part 5/8 #🌹 #💙 #🧚🏻‍♀️ #sorry - the rose #songfic

[sh1-n0bu]

congrats on reaching 300 followers!!! may i request for hetalia? (i’m not sure on the maximum amount of characters allowed so i’ll make a list, you can skip anyone you don’t want to write for) how would scotland, wales, spain, portugal, france and northern ireland deal with an s/o who’s always lost in their thoughts? like they’re always imagining up complex storylines with their own characters, impossible scenarios, procrastinating, giving themselves unnecessary anxiety, and it’s turned to maladaptive daydreaming at this point. they know this, and they say they’re trying to change, but deep down they really don’t want to because reality hurts, and they’d rather be lost in their own little world instead. am i self-inserting too much? probably-

✿ 𝙞’𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙬𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙 ✿

characters: francis (france), allistor (scotland), dylan (wales), antonio (spain) and siamas (northern ireland) x nb!reader

warnings: hints of maladaptive daydreaming, disassociation, insomnia, existential crisis, comfort, fluff, light angst

notes: phew it has been so long since i had last watched hetalia so i had to watch a lot of vids, comps and read the fandom articles to remind myself of them lmao. with that the characters also might come off OOC

hetalia fandom r u still alive????? if so then yall better prepare bc once my inbox gets flooded with hetalia reqs im gonna terrorize yall🕴🕴

francis is a romantic through and through and due to that he daydreams as well. whether it be romantic dates or acts you and him could do together, recreating gentle scenes from his favorite romance novels, plan out your date and anniversaries - francis is a romantic soul and he feels your daydreaming problem to a certain degree.

whenever he notices you suddenly go quiet, eyes hazy and unfocused, staring at something while fiddling with the strands of your hair, nails, the strings of your hoodie or anything you can get your hands on, the man would let out a sigh and sit behind you. pulling your body close to himself and slowly rocking you both back and forth gently - waiting patiently for you to come back to the real world.

but sometimes francis just can’t help but get a little bit selfish. wanting your attention only on himself but he knows it’s wrong.

so that’s why, when you stepped into your shared home with the blond after another draining day at work, he had already prepared a tea party setup with your favorite novel’s theme, dressed up as your favorite character with a charming smile and gentle eyes. candles lit, the freshly baked goods’ scent wafting through the air enough to make you drool alongside a hot, steaming marble pot filled with a chamomile tea.

“mon amour, would you care for a tea with me?”

before you two started dating, allistor thought of your stimming and daydreaming moments as something familiar to his brother, arthur.

perhaps you saw something that the normal people couldn’t see and interact with them like his little brother, so the redhead didn’t ask anything of it nor did he thought it’s anything problematic. however he got smacked in the face by how deeply your maladaptive daydreaming problems run when after your date at the cafe together, you almost got hit by a car when crossing the street with unfocused eyes and slow, dragged steps.

since then, allistor took it upon himself to study and research more about the differences of daydreaming and maladaptive ones, what causes them to happen, the reason for one to end up having such an odd yet harsh behavior.

whenever you would end up stimming with your headphones plugged in, mindlessly and robotically going through your work with an eerie silence - the man would observe you for a while, trying to decipher if you’re slipping a bit too deep into the dreams before walking over to you and gently tapping on your shoulder.

when your lovely eyes would lock with his own bright blue ones he would give you a smile and reach out a hand. a silent invitation for a slow dance with him - a formerly talked upon agreement that you two made to help you reground again after another slip.

“dalrin’ would you care to share your dreams with me?”

dylan loves fantasy creatures and stories like his brothers and due to that the blond daydreams quite often as well. about the different mythical creatures, their origins, territory, how they would live and interact with one another - all sorts of things.

he tends to stim a lot without even noticing as well so dylan would be the best person to share your struggles of maladaptive daydreaming. not to mention the short man always carries around a big sponge or those cute, character shaped stress balls.

the first time when he found you completely unresponsive laying on your bed with your headphones in, dylan immediately knew what was going on. so he silently slipped into the bed next to you, held your hand in his own and rubbed slow circles into the flesh until you came back again.

since then you both had made a promise to each other to try and get better. slowly but surely working on your behaviors, problems and sudden slips. and it’s safe to say that you both had gotten better.

“cupcake! if you slip down the rabbit hole again then take my hand and drag me down with you! ‘cuz i don’t ever want to be without you.”

antonio is a bright and optimistic young man, however sometimes he comes off as blunt and insensitive due to him not fully being able to read the situation at hand.

perhaps it’s due to his inability to read the room that he was able to snap you out of your slip so easily and effectively when you two first met. a simple pat to your shoulder and voice asking you “what are you doing sitting around without doing anything for?” definitely stopped your daydreaming.

after you had said your answer to him in an unsure voice, the bright smile wearing man simple smiled even brighter and asked you if you wanted to be friends.

and since then antonio and you two became friends. meeting up in small shops, restaurants, gardens, everywhere anywhere all at once until one day after almost 2 years of friendship the young man asked you if you would like to take your relationship a step further.

whenever he finds you stimming with your fingers while gazing at someplace far away, he just can’t help but get a bit sad. you wanted to be someplace that’s not here and antonio didn’t want you to go somewhere where he can’t be with you.

so he would always rubs simple shapes into your hand or shoulder, giving you an unusually melancholic smile with his pinky raised.

“pinky promise to always come back from your wonderland to me?”

siamas is a loud and chatty fellow - the perfect human representation of a golden retriever if only he had blond hair instead of red.

it was all thanks to his bright personality that you have been getting better and better at regrounding yourself back again when alone.

when siamas first saw your behavior with his own eyes he immediately knew what it was. so the redhead calmly walked over to your sitting form on the couch, kneeling before you and started to plant butterfly kisses on your cheeks. trailing them slowly over your acnes/moles/freckles until you snapped back and let out a giggle at his sweet antics.

he always has a lot of different toys, chibis and cute little bracelets connected to his keychain so whenever you two are going out kn a walk or a date, when he feels your hand become loose in his own he would proudly pull out his keychain and put one of the toys into your hand. gently squeezing yours - which is holding the toy - in his own, giving you a smile and a proud kiss to your forehead when you ground yourself back.

“welcome back honey. so what do you think of getting for dinner today?”

#nobu.writes #hetalia #hetalia x reader #hetalia x you #hetalia france #hetalia spain #hetalia ireland #hetalia scotland #hetalia wales #gn reader #x gn reader #hetalia axis powers #hetalia world series #hetalia world stars #hetalia angst #aph spain #aph scotland #aph france #aph wales #aph imagine #aph ireland #aph x reader

[ghostradiodylan]

I feel like we’re always talking about missed opportunities and ‘hidden knowledge’ (i.e. Dylan’s necklace extended discourse). So, in a similar vein: what do you think the counselor’s middle names would be?

I wanted to ask everyone this and kept forgetting! You’re going to wish you asked someone more creative than me because I have an incredibly lazy answer. A few months back I read a fic that gave Dylan a middle name I violently hated (bad personal associations) and I was like, okay, this sucks, but what would I give him instead? And then I thought, dumb idea, what if they all had their actors’ names as middle names? I figured no way, they couldn’t actually sound good, right? Too easy. But… it actually kinda works? For most of them anyway, I did make some tweaks.

I actually think Dylan’s middle name is Dylan. I think his first name is Miles and he goes by his middle. Flows better that way to my ear.

Miles Dylan Lenivy.

Ariel is too similar to Abigail, it’s too singsongy, but Winter is actually Ariel’s middle name. Abigail Winter Blyg didn’t really speak to me either but what if we shifted the season and gave her Autumn instead?

Abigail Autumn Blyg? Into it. Witchy fall girlie.

Ryan Justice Erzahler. Yes please.

Laura Siobhan Kearney. Poetry. Might be my favorite of the bunch. Consistently Irish.

Now, is Max just outright legally named Max, or is it short for something like Maxwell or Maximilian or Maximus? I think I like Maxwell best for him.

Maxwell Skyler Brinly. I like the echoed y sound. (Although Skyler’s middle name is Augustus and that would be a fun option for Max too.)

Nicholas Evan Furcillo. Fine. Serviceable.

Jacob Zachary Custos. Yep. ✅ That’s a perfectly nice middle of the road white boy name. Which is just what you want for our naked himbo babe.

Kaitlyn Brenda Ka. I just think giving her the middle name Brenda is very funny. It’s so incredibly 80’s. I’m obsessed with Kaitlyn naming her Barbadian D&D character Brenda in that one 80’s AU fic.

Emma Halston Mountebank. Yes. Sounds expensive. I don’t know what Emma’s social background is supposed to be but that name sounds like a horse girl to me. I feel like she wants to project wealth and success even if she has more humble roots than it seems.

And just for funsies, this handy plug-and-play formula gives us

Travis Theodore Hackett

Christopher David Hackett

Jedidiah Lance Hackett

Robert Ethan Hackett

Constance Lin (Grundy) Hackett

Eliza(beth?) Grace Vorez

Kaylee and Caleb can’t share the middle name of Uncredited Face Model, so I’m giving Caleb Travis as a middle name, since THackett and CHackett used to be tight, and Kaylee Amelia after her mother.

Silas I’m giving the middle name Peter, for both Peter and the Wolf and Peter Stubbe, ‘The Bedburg Werewolf’ so, Silas Peter Vorez.

Sometimes being lazy as fuck about naming characters works out I guess? But I wanna hear other headcanons because I could definitely be swayed on these!

#the quarry #hacketteer headcanons #beautiful asks from beautiful people #dylan lenivy #ryan erzahler #kaitlyn ka #jacob custos #emma mountebank #abi blyg #nick furcillo #laura kearney #max brinly

[rsedits9420]

cinnamon girl p33333

West coast

Pt 3 of The Lana Fic

Based off the song West Coast by Lana Del Rey

Word count: 1.5k

Masterlist

TW: mentions of abuse, portrayals of abuse, mental health, and ptsd (pls don’t read if you find these triggering)

Mark’s POV

As I wake up, I start to remember what occurred last night. I picked up y/n from Rutger and Johnny’s dorm. Then I saw that she was hurt. He had hit her! Her asshole of a boyfriend, Mason. For some reason I wasn’t as pissed last night as I am now. I’m furious. He doesn’t get to put his hands on her. Never. I’m going to need a lot of talking out of what I’m about to do. I slowly get up out of my bed, careful not to wake y/n, who is sleeping next to me. I put on one of my old hockey sweatshirts and put on a black beanie. I quietly grab my keys and phone and make my way to the door. Even though I'm livid, I’m not going to disturb her. She needs her rest. Especially after the events of last night. It’s only 8:45. I doubt any of my other roommates are awake. They can’t stop me from beating Mason’s ass. And trust me, that’s exactly what I’m about to do. I write a quick note letting y/n know I’m going out, and will be back. Leave her probably isn’t a good idea, but I can’t let this fucker go untouched for what he did to her any longer. Better yet, let’s make this a warning to never mess with my girl ever again.

I get this feeling like it all could happen, that's why I'm leaving

You for the moment, you for the moment

I quietly open my door and step into the hallway. As I reach the end of the hall I’m met with Luke sitting on the couch watching some highlights from his brother's game last night. “Where are you heading?” He asks. “Nowhere.” I respond bluntly. He starts to stand up, as I try to rush towards the door. “Man, I know what you're going to do. Yes. He definitely deserves it. But don’t ruin your hockey career. She wouldn’t want that.” Luke tells me. He starts to move in front of the door. “I’m just going to get a few punches in, okay! He’s a piece of shit, so I’m going to treat him as such. He hit my girl! He can’t get away with that!” I yell trying to push my way out. All of a sudden, Ethan, Mackie, and Dylan all appear out of their rooms. “What the hell is going on?” Dylan questions. “He about to go fuck up his career and I’m preventing that from happening.” Luke tells them. “Mark, I promise he’ll get what he deserves, but right now you need to be with y/n. She needs you.” Ethan tells me. Shit. He was right. How would she feel if I did the same thing that he did? I'm not like that though. I won’t give her a reason to be afraid of me. Not ever.

I speed back to my room, just to see y/n awake staring at my wall. “You okay?” I ask. “Will you lay with me?” She asked. Her eyes are puffy, and her cheeks are stained with tears, yet she’s still breathtakingly gorgeous. I climb into bed with her, and pull her close. “I meant what I said last night.” She whispers. “And I meant what I said too. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, you know that right.” I tell her. “Will you go with me to get my stuff today?” I take her face into my hands,”Yes baby, of course. I’ll protect you at all costs. I promise.” I would do anything and everything for her. I mean it.

Y/n’s POV

Mark makes me feel whole. When he holds me, I know he wouldn’t let anyone or anything hurt me ever. I never felt that with Mason. Yet the way Mark is holding me now, it feels different. Like he’s afraid to let go. Honestly I might be a bit afraid, myself. Even though I feel afraid, I know he is my safe haven. He always has been.

I guess that no one ever really made me feel that much higher

*4 hours later*

I don’t know if I can do this. All the boys are driving me to Mason’s apartment to get my stuff. He’s going to flip out. Luckily I have Mark and the boys here to protect me. I’m still dreading seeing Mason. I have no clue how he’s going to react. That’s the scariest part about this all. When I don’t know his next move, that’s when he does something outrageous. Mark is sitting next to me, holding my hand and playing with my knuckles. “It will be okay. I promise baby.” He whispers. He makes me feel safe. He always has. He’s my rock. My safe space. My home.

When we arrive at the apartment complex, they help me unload the boxes Luke and Dylan brought in Luke’s truck, and we take them up to the apartment. When I reach the door of my used to be “home” I grab my key out of my pocket, and quietly open the door. Hopefully he isn’t here, or if he is he’s passed out. The boys aren’t far behind me, but the are now just getting off the elevator as I walk into the apartment. I tiptoe through the living room straight to the bedroom to retrieve my things. All of a sudden a hand grabs my neck and pulls me against the wall.

Mark’s POV

Each of us brought up two boxes to pack up y/n’s things. When we reach the apartment door, it’s wide open. She went in there without me?! I quickly get inside of the apartment just to hear,” please Mason. Let me-e go. Pl-” I drop everything in my hands when I turn the corner to see Mason shoving y/n up against the wall by her throat. All I see is red. I charge up to him, pull him off immediately and throw him to the ground. “Don’t you ever touch her again! You hear me!” I roar. Eddie comes up behind me to check on y/n. I grab Mason by the collar of his shirt and get on top of him. Soon enough my fist connects with his face. I get 6 good punches in before Mackie and Luke are pulling me off. They have to get Dylan’s help to hold me against the wall. I look back at what I just did. His nose is definitely crooked, he has a gash on his eyebrow, and a busted lip. But damn that felt good. Mason starts to stand back up. “You fucking asshole!” Mason swears at me. And just like that Mackie turns around and hits Mason with a right hook to knock him right back on his ass. “You're not one to talk, so do everyone else here a favor and shut the hell up.” Mackie yells at him.

My gaze falls back onto y/n. She’s curled up into a ball. As she turns her head I can see the handprints on her throat. I rush towards her in an instant. “Hey, shhh. It’s okay. I’m here now. Nothing else is going to happen I promise.” I tell her, as I pull her into a hug. “Here, I’ll take “our friend” to the parking lot, so you guys can’t help y/n get her stuff. Okay?” Luke says. We all nod. Not long after Luke is dragging Mason out of the apartment. “Come on, let's go get your stuff.” I say lifting y/n in my arms.

After almost an hour, me and the boys have all of her belongings packed and ready to be taken to our house. Y/n hasn’t said a word yet. I’m starting to get worried. One thing I know is, I’m not letting this girl out of my sight ever again.

With the help of the boys, I managed to get all of the boxes into the two cars. As I place the last box in the car, I see Mason approaching the building again. Luckily y/n is already in the car safe. I’m not going to do anything else for now. I think y/n has seen enough for one day. I sit next to her in the car, and not long after she places her head on my chest. “Thank yo-u for being here and protecting me-e, Mark.” I cup her cheeks and tell her,”Anytime baby. And it’s all over now. You’re going to come live with me and the boys, and we’ll figure the rest out from there. Okay?” I plant a kiss on her forehead. “Okay.” She responds. “I love you so much. And there isn’t a single thing I wouldn’t do for you. I swear to you.” She giggles through tears and says,” I love you too Woody. So so much.” That’s when I know I'm in love with this girl. And I’m not ever losing her again.

I’m in love

I’m in love

#hockey #michigan hockey #michigan #umich boys #umich wolverines #umich hockey #mark estapa #ethan edwards #mark estapa blurb #markestapafic

[napo-leo-art]

Hi! ^^ 7,9 and 24 (Edgy/misc OC ask meme), if it's still a thing, for Levi pretty please!

It is! Thanks for the questions! Let me put it under the cut because it's LOOONG tw: answer #9 briefly talks about suicide ideation

7. What's one way your OC has changed since you first came up with them?

I'll focus on design/idea instead of character development for this one! The biggest thing that's changed is that (prior to playing Retribution) I went back to Rebirth to replay things, mostly to jog my memory. Iirc, my first playthrough of Levi had his vendetta against his past self (because of the provided 'I was an idiot'/I hate looking back at myself reason). I still think he has a really strong hatred for 'Sidestep', who he has a complicated idea of (as in: he knows Sidestep is a part of him, but it's easier to think of him as a different person because he was a legitimate hero back then); now though, his hatred is against Herald. It was kind of a choice motivated by seeing how/if that would change the way the romance played out, and ngl I don't really know if it did (played a ton of Retribution, but I don't remember that part). I think it gives better "reason" for him being so unreasonably cruel to Herald, who he barely knows. Ortega and Chen he has history with, and Argent is a very serious threat, so all of those are well-justified imo. Herald being the target of some (extremely unjustified) violent behavior makes the most sense to me if Levi hates him*. *Which in Levi's case is just jealousy and regret gone overboard 9. Do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your OC?

Oh god, not prior to right now?

Maybe (from the poem "Do not go gentle into that good night" by Dylan Thomas, which is by FAR one of my favorite poems)

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night.

.... Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

I don't think that the poem as a whole is representative of Levi, but that strong emotion that it sparks in me personally reminds me very deeply of Levi, and of many Sidesteps that choose that one 'I'll tear my skin if I have to' option. Along with the meaning of the entire poem, I think it inspires this passionate emotion counter to the inevitability of death, which is how I view Levi's feeling about dying. He's a tactician, but he doesn't look for any long term plans as a villain because he sees death as the end point of this fight. The point of this thing isn't really what happens to him at the end of it, because he sees it as just the (hopefully powerful) last thrashes of his life. Even surviving a full year as a villain was a big fucking deal to him: it's not like this is really a suicide-by-cop/suicide-by-hero situation, but he doesn't care if he dies and in a way, it's not a negative if he does. It's just expected.

24. What is an alternative life path your OC might have gone down? How different would their life be if they'd made those decisions?

A life path that I think about pretty often for most Sidesteps is the idea of one where they decided to trust the Rangers with the re-gene secret. I think (in retrospect) it's way, WAY easier than admitting to being a villain. I'm hoping that the Rangers would have supported Levi through it, and I know that Sidestep has a lot of pretty reasonable fears about the Farm tracking him back down, so it might've been messy.

But let's say he does mention the re-gene secret and the Farm. I imagine that the Rangers (or at least Ortega, maybe Chen?) would have believed him after a little convincing, and then tried to do what they could to obscure his identity as much as possible. Considering he hid his face most of the time, maybe they'd be confident enough about it.

With the tactician and tech-savvy traits he has, I can see him becoming someone they keep hidden away as much as possible- no more public hero duty (which would suit Levi just fine), and he can get all of the praise and fulfillment he needs out of working on Rangers tech and science on the back end.

In this AU, I wonder if he would've confessed to Ortega eventually, or if Ortega would've tried to make a move- it's possible that would've become a relationship, but only after years and years of Levi being coaxed into actually trusting Ortega. I like to think that Argent and Herald do join eventually, and that they're shocked to figure out that Sidestep (the one-time hero) has become hero tech support LMAO.

I do think he'd be happy. Especially with Ortega and Chen supporting and protecting him.

#fhr spoilers #Levi Song #oc asks #thanks again!!