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#the boys fan fiction
Learning About the Perks of Feminism
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Photo from @fromjjwithlove blog
Summary: Y/N wants Soldier Boy badly. But she wants him on her terms. Can he handle her modern ways?
Warnings/Explicit 18+: Pretty much all smut. Some tiny bit of plot. Soldier Boy being a grumpy asshole, Unprotected PinV sex, pull-out method of BC used, coming on tits, oral, m/f receiving, face riding. Fluff if you squint.
Pairings: Soldier Boy x Y/N
Word Count: 2,620
A/N: So, I’ve decided to do all 30 of these writing prompts. I may miss a day here and there, but I’m going to try to do one a day, and I will be completing all 30 no matter what.  They won’t always be in order.  This fic will be for the prompt: Write about your MC nicknames. I took some liberty with this prompt, but they do talk about what he want's Y/N to call him.
I will be putting together a Masterlist for all 30 prompts and adding it to my main Masterlist.
A/N 2: This post is the inspiration for this fic. The amazing @deanswaywardgirl deserves so much credit for spurring on my horny brain with an amazing smutty scenario. And @candy-coated-misery0731 deserves all the credit for encouraging the writing of this fic. So, you owe any smutty happiness this fic brings you, to those two lovelies! 😄😄
Both beautiful text dividers, both below and at the bottom, were created by @firefly-graphics
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"We'll be back in just a few hours, love."
Butcher patted Y/N on the shoulder and then whispered in her ear. "Try to watch him, make sure he doesn't go nuclear, but if he looks ready to do some damage, you get your sweet ass the fuck outta here, yeah?"
Soldier Boy pressed a button on the remote before speaking in the driest of tones.
"You know, my hearing is super too, you limey fuck." He leveled a look at Butcher and Billy straightened to his full height.
"Fine, I'll say it plain then. Hurt one hair on her head and Supe or not, deal or not, I'll rip your fuckin' heart out."
Y/N rolled her eyes. Since the moment the Boys took her on as part of the team, Butcher had tucked her under his wing like a mama bird. He refused to accept that she'd been surviving on the streets and working within the underground network of criminals since she was thirteen years old, and more than a dozen years on, she could certainly take care of herself.
She looked over at Soldier Boy and saw a spark of humor in his eyes as he looked up at Butcher, no doubt contemplating how quickly he could crush him if he wanted to, especially given that Butcher was currently V-free.
But he merely gave Butcher a smirk and went back to the TV, frowning at a commercial for men's exfoliating body scrub.
"Jesus fuck," he mumbled, "whatever happened to a fuckin bar of soap?"
Y/N turned back to Butcher and patted his arm. "I'll be fine. You guys be careful." When he still hesitated she stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "Go on, Hughie's waiting."
He flushed slightly and left the room.
Y/N sat back down on the couch, and as Soldier Boy engrossed himself in the wide and varied choices offered by the modern television landscape, she took the opportunity to finally really look at him.
Hughie and Butcher had shown up at her motel room door a couple hours earlier with a nuclear superhero in tow.  Y/N had been surprised to say the least, but after her first glimpse of him, she’d been avoiding looking directly at the Supe for too long at once. It felt a little like looking into the sun. From what little she knew about Soldier Boy, he seemed like an old school asshole, but god damn the devil came in a beautiful package.
Hughie had run to a Walmart nearby and grabbed him clothes he thought would fit, a plain white tank top, grey sweats, and a short-sleeved, NY Giants jersey.
They were plain, simple, clothes, but on Soldier Boy they were the hottest things Y/N had ever seen.  The way the jersey pulled tight across his broad, powerful shoulders and wide, muscled chest, made Y/N feel like she might start drooling at any moment. Also, the way the round, open collar exposed the long column of his throat and his bold, defined clavicle bones, gave Y/N the desire to lick and bite at his tanned, lightly freckled skin.
The lightweight grey sweats were loose and baggy, and she was almost positive he wasn't wearing underwear. When he'd been walking around earlier, the thin material had clung to his round, plump ass like a second skin and there had been something that hung long and low in the front that made her mouth water, imagining just what it could be. Maybe it had simply been a trick of the light, but she seriously doubted that.
His body was powerful, radiating a kind of strength that was simply entrancing. But she still thought his face might be even more attractive. His hair was longish and soft, and had a tendency to fall into his eyes, which gave him a boyish air that suited his superhero name. His beard was trimmed close, soft-looking, making Y/N's fingers itch to touch it.
His eyes were usually a mossy green, but sometimes, depending on the light, they seemed to shine like emeralds. They were absolutely stunning and, Y/N felt as though it would be easy to be pulled in by them, and lose yourself.
If his eyes were angelic, his mouth was all sin. It screamed of carnal delights and promised hours of bliss. Staring at him now, she had no trouble imagining his mouth swollen and wet from licking and sucking pleasure into her skin. Her body tensed and her pussy clenched.
She was so lost in her imaginings that she jumped when Soldier Boy's deep voice pulled her back to reality. He continued to stare at the TV as he spoke.
"You know one of my other abilities is a super keen sense of my surroundings. Which means that I'm hyper aware when someone is watching me."
He finally turned to face her, pinning her down with his gaze. After a minute he gave her a smirk. "Like what you see, pretty thing?"
Y/N scoffed even as her stomach flipped. "Do lines like that usually work?"
For a second he looked like he was going to get mad, but then he just shrugged. "Yeah, they do.” He frowned. “Or they used to. Women have changed a lot from what I can tell.”
Y/N smiled. “Well, we’ve decided we like our independence. And we don’t like chauvinist assholes telling us what to do.”
Soldier Boy’s frown turned darker, and Y/N wondered if she was being incredibly stupid.
Deciding that fortune favored the bold, she got up and strode over to where he was sitting on the side of the bed, one leg stretched out in front of him, the other braced on the floor.
She quickly straddled his lap and relished the look of shock on his face. She ground her cunt down against the hard bulge that confirmed her suspicions of a huge dick and no underwear.
Soldier Boy groaned loudly and his breathing came fast and harsh. He clamped his hands hard on her hips, keeping her immobile.
"Jesus Christ! Are all women this horny and aggressive nowadays?"
Y/N shook her head. "No, not all of us. But like I said, we like our independence, and we go after what we want. And I definitely want you. In spite of the cheesy lines and the knowledge that you could crush me like a bug if you wanted to, I still want you.  We've only got a couple hours on our own and who knows when this chance will be in front of me again. So," she thrust her hands into his hair and pulled his head back slightly. "Like what you see, pretty thing?" She echoed back to him.
His eyes had become hooded with desire, as he looked deep into her eyes. "I don't know, I usually like to be in charge." He said, in a voice that made a shiver run through her as she imagined letting him take over. She suspected he would be very good at being in charge.
But her defiant streak was strong and she wanted to keep in control.
"Trust me baby, Feminism has given us lots of rights and freedoms we deserve, but it's also helped us," she grabbed his cock through his thin sweats, "express our sexual freedoms."
She squeezed him gently and he threw his head back with a groan. She took the opportunity to lick up the length of his throat, and then nibble at the hinge of his jaw.
She moved her mouth to his ear and whispered to him. "Tell me, what name do you want me to scream out when I come? Soldier Boy or Ben? Or would you prefer, "Ooh, fuck me Big Daddy!"
He yanked her back from his ear so he could look at her closely. He studied her a minute and Y/N let a mischievous smile curl her lips so he'd know she was having fun. He shook his head, still a little upended by her boldness.
But eventually, he smiled too. "Just Ben, baby."
He pulled her mouth down to his in a wild and searing kiss. Just as she suspected, that wicked mouth was pure sin masquerading as paradise. His tongue was hard as it thrust into her mouth. He swallowed down her moans and wordless pleas as he ravaged her, lips sucking and biting.
Wanting some of the power back, she bit into his succulent bottom lip, dragging a ragged moan from his throat. She pulled back from the kiss and shoved his open jersey off his shoulders, leaving him in only his tank top.
She ran her hands over the thick, round, curve of his shoulders, and then pushed his undershirt up so she had access to all the smooth, flat muscles of his torso.
She tugged at his shirt. "Take this off." She ordered.  Looking as though he was participating in an experiment he wasn't too sure about, he reluctantly followed her demand.
But as soon as the shirt was gone she began kissing her way down his body. She paused when she reached his nipples, twirling her finger around the left one and teasing the right one with the tip of her tongue.
"Uhn, fuck!" Ben growled, and Y/N looked up to see him with his eyes closed, biting into his bottom lip. The sight made her moan and purr against his skin.
Fuck he was hot.
She felt his cock growing harder against her stomach and she couldn't wait any longer to feel it on her tongue. Her kisses reached his waistband and she grabbed hold of it.
He lifted his hips automatically and Y/N gasped as his cock popped free and fell against his stomach. Settling herself between his legs, she licked all the way up the underside of his dick, before dragging her tongue across his slit, lapping up the pre-cum that had gathered there.
She hollowed her cheeks and sucked the sensitive head of his cock into her mouth. She bobbed slightly on the very top, sucking and flicking her tongue back and forth. Ben jerked his hips and sank one of his hands into her hair.
"Jesus! Yes, good girl.  Fuck your mouth is perfect!"
Y/N moaned at his praise, letting the vibrations travel down his dick as she sank all the way to the base. She relaxed her throat so that she could fit his whole cock into her mouth.  Ben gathered her hair into a ponytail in his hand. "Look at me, pretty one. I wanna see your face while you're stuffed full of my cock."
Y/N looked up at him, pulling off and letting the spit and cum dribble down her chin before she sank back down on him.  After another minute or so Ben pulled her off his cock with a deep moan. Quickly he ripped off her t-shirt and bra, yanking down her jeans and underwear and tossing them to the side of the bed.
Then with complete ease, he picked her up and spun her around, so that she was facing away from him.  He laid down flat beneath her and pushed her forward so that her ass was higher.  Then, spreading her pussy wide with his thumbs, he licked a stripe up through her folds with his wide, hot tongue and Y/N screamed out her pleasure.
He spoke against her dripping wet heat. "This way we can both get what we need. After all what kind of man would I be if I let you do all the heavy lifting?"
Before she could respond to that, his mouth sank into her cunt, and Y/N grabbed hold of his dick, bobbing up and down on it while she writhed and shook against his face.
His beard was soft, but as he fucked her thoroughly with his mouth, even the soft hair began to leave a pleasant burn behind on the inside of her thighs. She was grateful she'd have a souvenir from him.
As she neared her climax, Ben slipped his hands around her ribcage and lifted her from a reclining position to sitting one, positioning her to sit more fully on his jaw. He licked up into her, pushing his hard tongue past her entrance before undulating it against her incredibly sensitive skin.  He sucked her clit into his mouth and then nibbled on it, sending Y/N tumbling, shaking and moaning over the edge.
But he didn't stop there. He was perfectly capable of holding her in that position, over his mouth, for as long as he wanted, and he kept her there, drinking up every drop she gave him through two more orgasms.
Finally he turned her to face him, and sat her on his lower abdomen, her drenched pussy leaving a wet spot. She reached behind her to stroke his long, thick cock that was running along the crack of her ass.
"Fuck me, Ben, please fuck me."
He chuckled slightly as he moved his fingers to rub against her clit.
"This position is all you, beautiful. You started this, you finish it."
Y/N refused to back down from the challenge he was giving her even though her limbs were wobbly and tired. She climbed onto his cock and slowly slid down onto it. She rode him hard and fierce, taking energy from every one of his guttural curses.
He raised his hands to her tits, squeezing them and rolling her nipples between his fingers. Before letting them fall back into place so he could watch them bounce as she rode him.
As she began to wane, not sure how much longer she could keep up the pace, Ben rolled her onto her back and began to piston his hips into her, shaking the entire bed frame and smashing the headboard into the wall.
He pulled out abruptly. His voice was harsh and ragged. "I don't have a rubber, so where do you want me to come?" He asked.
"Come on my tits." She said breathlessly, reaching out to pump his cock that was covered with her slick.
Ben reached down and slid two thick fingers deep into her cunt, curling them just right so that she came almost immediately. Ben took over, pumping his cock fast and watching Y/N's face as she cried out, pleasure cascading across her features. Her beautiful face, lips swollen and still wet with his cum was just the image he needed to push him into the abyss.
Bucking into his hand, he shot ropes of cum across Y/N's tits, milking his cock, as he listened to the satisfied moans and sighs that were coming from her lips. He fell forward on top of her, too spent to care about the mess he was creating on both their bodies.
The two of them dozed off for the better part of half an hour before Ben woke up and immediately scooped Y/N up. Still half asleep in his arms, she let out a shout of surprise as he turned on the shower and stepped them both into the warm spray.
He cleaned them both up quickly and then again carried Y/N out of the bathroom.
She rolled her eyes. "You know, I have legs. I can just walk."
Ben looked down at her seriously. "But your muscles are tired. Mine aren't, even a little, so why wouldn't you let me carry you?"
Y/N shrugged. "Part of that whole modern, doing things for ourselves, independence thing I was mentioning earlier."
It was Ben's turn to roll his eyes, but he set her on the ground. "Well, I don't know if I'll ever understand the whole women's lib thing."
He grinned and nodded towards the messy bed.
"But it sure has its perks!"
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watchstarscollide · 2 years
Text
If I Can't Have You | Homelander
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» Summary | She was the most aggravating being he had ever been around, and Homelander has dealt with a lot of irritation in his life. But how could someone be so annoying yet he couldn’t even get her off his mind?
❥ Pairing | Homelander x Reader
★ Word Count | 9.4k
» Warnings | slight degrading, negging, pinches of dacryphilia, possessive, manipulation, jealousy, slight fluff, idk what this is honestly. Homelander is not a "good guy", ya know?, Homelander POV
↳ AN | This has been a WIP for a long time. I started writing this a few months ago right after I watched season 1 so this does not follow any sort of storyline or season. It's just it's own thing.
*This has only glancingly been proofread so apologies for any errors!* Enjoy!
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He watched her day after day since the moment she walked into the hallowed halls of Vought. Her hair pinned in a bun, perfectly neat without a strand out of place. Her pencil skirt always pressed and proper - and never above her knees. She scurried past people with eyes casted down as she hurried room to room with coffees in hand. And when she was asked for anything unplanned she lit up with an excitement and vitality not yet corrupted by the corporate world. 
She was new.
She was innocent. 
She was annoying. 
The very moment Ashley walked in with yet another intern Homelander’s eyes had already rolled halfway into his brain. Just another person to be cycled through the system under the guise of work experience and a hopeful job offer, only to end in a mental breakdown followed by complete disappearance to the industry. The time, the training, the niceties. It was a hassle, it was tiresome. Homelander had better things to do than play nice with the help. 
She introduced herself to The Seven - a sickeningly sweet tone dripping from behind her bright smile and full lips. She twiddled her fingers as she spoke, her thumb providing a physical comfort by rubbing the back of her hand raw. She gave the same bullshit spiel that every single one before her gave.
“I’m so excited to work with you.”
“You have always been such an inspiration to me.”
“I am always around, don’t be afraid to ask for anything.”
Homelander snorted. As if he could face the shit he had to on a daily basis but be afraid to ask some girl to pick up his dry cleaning. Her head whipped over to him, her doe eyes widening ever so slightly. She was nervous to begin with, he could hear her pulse from across the room. The possibility of starting with a bad impression was enough for her blood pressure to skyrocket as her complexion flushed. 
But Homelander was nothing if he didn’t know how to charm. 
“We’re only able to do what we do thanks to folks like you,” He forced out, accompanied with the rehearsed smile he knew dearly. “Welcome aboard.”
She gleamed at that. 
She’d lasted longer than the rest. Almost 2 months later and she still entered a room with that exuberant smile as she trailed behind like a shadow. She and Starlight became fast friends it seemed. Made sense. They both were the epitome of irritating naivety. However their friendship meant her presence became more and more frequent around The Seven. Not only to do what she was hired for but occasionally entering the meeting room just to talk. And she could talk forever, droning on and on. Laughing her pitiful little giggle at every single thing. 
Homelander could feel as his dull headache began the longer she stood around. Not to mention the nauseating smell of the sickly sweet perfume she wore every day that permeated the room for hours after so much as just walking by the open door. Sometimes he would still be able to smell it around him during the dead of night when he was alone. He couldn’t escape her even in his sleep, her sparkling eyes haunted his dreams. Baring into his soul like a siren. They were more like nightmares truly. 
Her eyes flicked over to him as a muffled groan sounded behind his gloved hand as it swept over his statuesque face. 
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” He snapped, breaking his composure. “This is called a meeting room, I’d like to actually get the meeting over with.”
The girl stuttered for a moment attempting to grasp at any of the words that came to her mind. It wasn’t the first time the man had shown a side other than endearing patriotic hero seen on television but it truly was not something she had fully come to terms with. His shift in tone, the scorn behind his normally gallant eyes seemed out of place. 
The girl ducked her head, “Y-yes sir, I’m so sorry. Please let me know if there’s anything I can get for you.”
She didn’t understand why the Supe had developed such a distaste for her, but it became more and more obvious as time went on. At the start he was every bit the man she had truly admired, it was hard to hold back the admittance that he was always her favorite of The Seven. He spoke with clarity and assured authority. He was magnificent to see in action and with a smile and wink he was truly every bit America’s sweetheart. 
The facade seemed to slip away somewhere along the line, she couldn’t even be sure of when. It started with a simple cold shoulder - that one she could understand. She was just a lowly intern in the presence of universal marvels. The indifferent snub eventually became direct disdain. He would roll his eyes plainly when she approached him or walked away from her when she attempted to offer any service. And her obvious attempts to stay in his good graces only made him grit his teeth harder. 
But she always tried, surely he couldn’t just hate her. 
The nail in the coffin came only a few weeks later.
Press and PR was on the list of things Homelander hated the most. When things were too quiet in the city and there wasn’t pests to discard or bombs to defuse to make Vought look good, press was the way to keep in the people talking. Whether that was TED talks, morning radio, or the classic late night talk show- it all kept the news cycle turning.
Homelander could only be so lucky to do any one of those, but the universe seemed set on welcoming him into his own personalized circle of hell. In the effort to be more ‘accessible’ and ‘relatable’, Vought had set up rounds of internet influencers to have their chance at a one on one with America’s greatest hero.
Because nothing could be as meaningful as a Buzzfeed article or a Snapchat story. Or God forbid…a Tik Tok. 
And just to put the cherry on top of his day - his favorite intern was his sole wrangler for the whole ordeal. It was already expected by him to hear her accelerated heartbeat every time she popped into a room, but as she stood in the back behind the lights and cameras her hummingbird heartbeat was louder than any micro-celebrity that believed yelling equated to humor. Being her first time flying solo it was truly a test of her competence, no doubt a trial run before she would be considered for a more permanent position.
Great. 
She fiddled with the belt that hung off her jeans loud enough that Homelander could hear it as he spoke to the person across from him, his eyes twitching every time the metal prong clinked against the bar. He was glad that she didn’t wear the item of clothing all the time, her nervous habits would send him off the deep end if he had to hear it every day. Not to mention the way her tight jeans clung to her body, accentuating curves that she never let anyone know she possessed. 
Casual Friday. She never took part in it before - that day even allowing her hair to hang loose from the expected updo - she seemed to be getting more comfortable with her environment in recent days despite the deep breaths and the fidgets. But why did she have to pick that day of all days to suddenly switch up? Everything about her was disruptive. Homelander could hardly remember the questions being asked as she twirled her hair around her painted finger. Her eyes bore into him as he spoke, nodding along with whatever words spouted out of his mouth. As if it actually meant anything. Hell, he didn’t even know what he was saying aside from the various buzz words that were ingrained into his vocabulary.
 She brought a paper coffee cup up to her plush lips as she watched on. The same cup she had for the better half of the morning - lipstick stains building up along the lid. She almost never wore makeup but had conveniently opted for a look that was hard to look away from, highlighting her features in a way that was almost striking. Did she think she was getting on camera herself? Because she certainly seemed to be seeking attention. 
It was working and on more than just him. Homelander watched as she smiled against the cup as the interviewer cracked a few humiliating excuses for jokes. How could she find something so embarrassing be that amusing? It was almost degrading. Her eyes roamed over the interviewer speaking, a slight twinkle in them as something he said made her laugh audibly. The man looked over his shoulder at her with a smile as she held her hand over her mouth to stop the laughter. 
“I’m so sorry,” She giggled out, “I didn’t mean to-”
“No, no!” The man interrupted her, his sly smile deepening, “I appreciate validation from pretty girls.”
A flush trailed up her neck as the man winked at her. Homelander cringed at the interaction unfolding before him. That’s what got a reaction out of her? The most cliche line ever formulated by a man? The words were fake and contrived, Homelander would know. Pretty girl? Now, he was no man of great manners, but he played one on TV. Even as a pick up line it was poor. The man could’ve tried harder. Beautiful, stunning, devastating woman. Something with more power, more intention.
Not that she was. But still.
“With that, I think that’s all I’ve got.” The interviewer stood up and held his hand out to shake with the Supe. “Thank you for your time and for everything you do for the country.” 
Homelander’s jaw ticked in irritation. That’s it? He didn’t even get to have a final word, he was almost positive he didn’t even get to plug the bullshit he was supposed to. All because this kid got distracted by some girl? She didn’t even have to be in the room, she would’ve been just as useful outside the room where she couldn’t bother anyone. 
Whatever, the interview was a waste of time to begin with. It was a mystery how this guy was even allowed to do media with how dull he was. No wonder he was kept online, no way he would handle the big leagues. 
“The pleasure is all mine,” Homelander responded, flipping a switch to his signature heroic smile. But he made no motion to shake hands, instead stooping down to grab the half empty water bottle at his feet and turning to the attention of the makeup artist on standby to touch him up before the next lowlife walked through the door. 
The man laughed awkwardly before dropping his hand and heading for the door without another word to the Supe. Homelander leaned back, shutting his eyes and letting out a deep sigh of agitation leave his body. He still had half the day to get through, hopefully with less eventfulness between. As he breathed back in the girl’s sweet perfume filled his lungs, recharging any anger that had left. It was like every part of her was handcrafted to permeate and irritate him. He needed to calm down if he was going to continue the rest of the day. There was only so much even he could take. 
A whimsical giggle rang through the room causing Homelander’s eyes to snap back open in a flash. He sat forward slightly, the soft brush of setting powder following him as he moved to see what could’ve possibly been happening now. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness behind the lights his eyes focused on the sad excuse of a man that should’ve been halfway out of the building by now. Instead he stood leaned against the wall next to the intern, his eyes wandering her up and down as he spoke in whispered tones. 
Homelander watched her smile up at the man, her lip caught between her teeth flirtatiously as she handed a phone over to him. Her eyes were lit with a delight he had never seen before, not even when she was standing in front of The Seven on her very first day. The man grabbed the phone from her hand, his fingers brushing against her skin purposefully and Homelander could feel his anger physically bubbling up in him. 
What the fuck. 
The kid wasted an opportunity to get his 5 seconds of fame with Homelander but had the attemptive gall to get the attention of his intern? And it was working? The girl had that little self-respect that she was excited for some nobody off the street to notice her? Of course, because that’s what she wanted. She got all dressed up and ready that morning in her tight jeans, her low-cut top, her hair tossed to the side because she lived for the attention. Because she couldn’t just do her job quietly and go home like everyone else. 
“We’ve got a pretty busy schedule, pal.” Homelander called out, his voice booming through the quiet room causing everyone to flinch at the disruption. 
The interviewer looked over to the Supe with fake smile and an even worse apology. He turned his attention to the girl once more with a wink before ducking out of the door quickly. What a disrespectful little rat. 
The girl looked over at Homelander, the smile wiped from her face and worry taking its place in the crease between her eyebrows. She knew that tone from the man and she knew he wasn’t happy. They locked eyes for a moment in the uncomfortable silence of the room.
“Everyone out,” Homelander ordered, his stare never left the girl, “I’d like to have a word.”
The production team and makeup artist all shared looks before slowly filing out, leaving the intern alone with the Supe behind closed doors. The girl swallowed audibly though her mouth suddenly grew dry as Homelander lifted himself off his chair and slowly approached her. 
“Homelander, I’m so-”
“Ah” He interrupted, an unsettling smile stretching across his face, “I said I wanted to have a word, didn’t I?”
Her brow furrowed deeper and her eyes grew soft, almost teary as she nodded. 
“What is your job here?” Homelander clasped his hands behind his back as he paced in front of the girl. She looked at him, unsure what to say - if he truly wanted her to say anything at all. His smile never ceased as he urged her, “Come on, I know you have a voice. I hear it every god damn day.” 
His tone and his face was every bit the charming hero that everyone loved, but behind his eyes and words there was something much more menacing.
 “I-I’m here to provide support to Vought employees and talent by way of any requests or tasks assigned.”
“And what are you assigned today?”
“I’m here to represent Vought’s PR. To make sure all goes on as designed, smoothly and without anything unexpected.”
“Represent Vought?” Homelander questioned, his head tilted curiously. She searched his eyes, it wasn’t the answer he wanted. “Last I checked you weren’t an employee at Vought, is that right?”
The girl stuttered, “W-well, no…but-”
“I’m the only one that has any tangible meaning to Vought here,” Homelander’s smile dropped and he approached the young intern, his body casting a looming dark shadow over her frame. “So let’s get one thing straight. You’re here representing me.”
“Yes sir, I’m really so sor-”
“Oh cut the bullshit.” She winced backwards at his harsh tone until her back hit the wall but he continued to advance on her. “You think you’re the first person to try and smile their way into a position? You think you’re special? That you actually provide anything?”
Homelander could see the tears welling up at that point, and it somehow looked better on her than the gleam she normally sported. The way it collected in the corner of her make-up covered eyes and lashes, the slight flush to her cheeks and nose as her vulnerability shone through. The girl wasn’t as iron-willed as she thought - truthfully it was the most appealing she’d ever been. 
“That little stunt you pulled with that guy, what was that about?” 
She shook her head in confusion as her head dropped towards the floor, “I…I don’t know what you mea-” 
“You just like feeling wanted, don’t you? By a guy, by a company, it doesn’t matter. You just need to feel some kind of assurance that you can’t give yourself. Because you feel useless otherwise, right?” Homelander asked, his voice dropping into mock sympathy. He brought his finger up to the girl’s face, his gloved knuckle dragging down her cheek and jaw until it settled underneath her chin. He forcefully lifted her head until she faced him once again. Her eyes were red as she held in the urge to openly cry. 
“You think he actually has any interest in you?” Homelander shook his head with a patronizing smile as he said her name softly. “You are useless. You’re an embarrassment. And I have a little advice for you...”
The girl tried to move her face out of the Supe’s grip as a tear finally slipped from her eye but his cement-like hold kept her still. His shoulder shook with a laugh, his thumb extending up to wipe away under her eye as he leaned in slowly to her face. Her heartbeat lept as he neared, her eyes shutting forcefully in anticipation, her tongue sweeping over her lips as they parted submissively. Homelander preened with complacency at her assumption and he was almost tempted to fulfill her expectations. But instead he leaned in further until his nose rested against her temple. He breathed in the sugary scent of her perfume and warm vanilla of her shampoo - his hot exhale trailing over her ear and down her neck. 
“Stay out of my way. Do that and maybe, just maybe, you’ll get to flash your cute little Vought ID to the barista like a real employee.”
He dropped his hand from her face and in the blink of an eye he was feet away from her and headed back to his seat. She watched him in a state of shock and horror as he sat back down, as if nothing had even happened. Her lungs began to properly regulate her breathing as the room magically returned to its normal size and the claustrophobia subsided. 
“Thank God it’s Friday, am I right?” Homelander barked with laughter, the life and charm returning to his eyes and face as he fixed his microphone back in place nonchalantly. “Well, let’s get everyone back in here to get the show on the road!” 
She stared at him with hopeless confusion, as if questioning if the past 3 minutes occurred entirely in her own imagination. He looked back up at her but only gave her exactly what made her heart flutter mere moments ago from another - a wink and a smile. 
He didn’t see her again for the next week. He waited for her voice to enter through the door before herself - likely right before he conducted a meeting, interrupting and irritating him as usual - but she never showed. Every time he wanted something he looked around the halls, hoping to find the plucky intern to play fetch as she always insisted on doing but she was nowhere to be found. Her perfume even started fading from the rooms he normally felt suffocated in until he found himself wondering what the scent she wore even was. 
A part of him was let down that she turned out to be just like the others, always gone the moment it got a little hard. He felt that he could’ve been a lot worse than he had been, he merely offered a bit of life advice. She seemed so enamored by the new company she kept, it was hard to fathom that she’d give it up like that. He almost found himself wanting to casually ask Starlight about her new friend but he stopped himself, what was to gain from it? Probably a woe is me story of his given dose of reality.  
It was really too bad she was just as disappointing as he expected. 
By the following week he had almost pushed her out of his mind enough to no longer wonder or seek out her presence. No one so much as mentioned her through the days but he truthfully wasn’t sure if anyone even bothered to know or care as he did. But how could they not show curiosity? How could they not notice that her shrill voice was absent? 
And then he heard it. The melodic laughter that shot a pain straight to his temples as it echoed down the hallway. Homelander thought for just a moment that he may have been hearing things, even a Supe had their moments. But as the voice continued to float closer to the office he knew exactly whom it emitted from. 
He surprised himself with how quickly he shot out of his seat to peer around the door, but as he rounded the corner he was finally able to see the person he had spent the last week pondering over. Dressed back in her prim and proper pencil skirt, her hair held up by a thin band in a tight bun. And hanging from her neck…a Vought employee ID. 
Homelander huffed a short laugh, his eyes followed her approaching form as she walked closer and closer. The smile she always wore lit up her face as she spoke animatedly to the woman walking by her side wearing a matching ID. He had never seen the woman before, or if he had she wasn’t important enough to hold a memory of. 
The girl hadn’t noticed the Supe standing in the doorway until she turned her attention back forward. It was hard to not see the large man with his arms crossed over his chest, especially as his eyes all but burned both the surface of her skin and within. Figuratively and literally. As her gaze caught his own Homelander caught the slight falter in her step as her smile dropped until it disappeared altogether. 
“Well well well,” Homelander smiled and the girl noticeably cringed at the sound of his voice, “Looks like congratulations are in order.”
“Oh my god, you’re Homelander.” The insignificant woman next to them fawned, a twinkle of wonder in her eyes and excitement in her voice. Homelander didn’t even bother to look in her direction, his only focus being on the ex-intern in front of him. Though she hadn’t bothered to meet his stare, opting to keep her head ducked as he crossed in front of their path.
“Is that why you haven’t been around? What floor are you on now?” He asked, grabbing at the plastic ID on the end of the lanyard that hung loosely around her neck. She flinched at his movement impulsively. He read her name across the top of the card and looked over the picture that sat in the middle. Her bright eyes that normally shone innocence seemed to hold something deeper, a sharpness, a superiority that he’d never seen her express before. Homelander almost felt his own lip twitch upward at the notion. 
“I’m just grabbing some stuff that I left up here,” The girl said, an edge to her voice as she ripped the ID out of his grasp. “Excuse me.”
She stepped around the man to continue her walk down the hall, her hand firmly gripping the woman accompanying her - pulling her quickly by her forearm.
“You know Homelander?” The unknown woman whispered as she jogged to keep up with the girl’s pace. She only continued her retreat, her only reaction being a quick glance back to the man as held his spot. 
He watched, his jaw hung ajar as a million words threatened to spill from the tip of his tongue. She had expected him to follow, to hold her back, to say something. And he had wanted to, oh how he wanted to, but he held it in. At least vocally, mentally he was spewing a million thoughts a second. 
How dare she. Suddenly she thought she had any authority to ignore him? What happened to the helpful girl who only wanted to please? Couldn’t even have a pleasant conversation with someone she claimed to respect. Where did this backbone come from? When did she become so defiant?
All this time he spent wondering about her, thinking of her and this was how he was repaid? Embarrassing him in front of others? Ungrateful was just another trait he could add to his ever growing list of grievances. 
But why couldn’t he just let it go? 
She was moved to marketing on level 15 more than halfway down the building. Homelander had paid a visit to Ashley and was able to get the information he wanted from the very person who assigned her there. He also made sure to wring her out about shuffling people in and out, it caused disruption to the natural ecosystem of the company and his team. She looked at him in total bewilderment, he had never once cared about where an intern went or if he’d ever even see them again. In fact, most of the time he was in a more agreeable mood when they were gone. 
He watched her from afar, through floors, through walls. Watching as she shuffled from her desk to the water cooler or to get her own coffee, never once needing to serve others anymore. She was a hard worker, she spent hours at a time working on her own projects and those around her seemed to feed off her upbeat personality. The same personality that was almost like nails on a chalkboard to him. But every once in a while, out of boredom, Homelander would find himself tuning out the sounds around him to hone into that piercing voice or silvery laugh of hers. 
But she never ventured to the 99th level and Homelander wouldn’t be caught dead in any civilian department. Besides, why would he care to? 
They didn’t come face to face with each other again until months later. Vought’s annual kick-off event was an important one for the internal morale of the company. At the beginning of every fiscal year all employees were invited to the gala to partake in the provided cheap catering, the tone deaf DJ, and silent auction in the form of bulk electronics, bottles of wine, or tickets to a downtown tourist trap. It didn’t matter, the whole event would be a tax write-off anyway.
But the ultimate show of good faith was the chance to rub elbows with The Seven. They would walk around with smiles and handshakes, affirming with grace that they weren’t the real heroes at Vought. Sure, they were out saving lives and doing acts of god-like power but the Vought employees were the ‘real people making a change’. Everyone from the CEO right down to the janitors were all equally important and ‘fighting the real fight’. 
Homelander could feel the bile rising in his throat as the words spilled from his mouth time and time again. Being the leader of The Seven came with more annoyances than perks. He had shaken so many hands by the midway point that he was sure the leather of his gloves were worn out at the palm. And through that whole time he didn’t even see the one person he was sure would ring his ears the moment she walked in. 
He would never admit it but he took a hard glance around through people in search of her. Her hair probably pulled back though ditching the skirt and blazer. With a black tie event he wondered what she would look like in a formal dress. It was a toss up on whether she would be in something modest or something more form fitting. It was clear from the last time he had seen her out of the corporate uniform that she was certainly hiding underneath it. She had to be there, she was too proud of herself not too. He was almost surprised she didn’t use the event to have her own Cinderella moment as Vought’s newest darling employee.  
But as she didn’t turn up and with passing time Homelander continued his rounds between the peons. More photos, arms around the shoulder, and lying through his teeth. Though he was used to the charade, that night it seemed to be particularly grating. His eyes frequently darted from his conversations to the corners of the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of his ex-intern. Or even catching her wafting scent through the crowd of seeping cheap perfume and aftershave. 
A quarter of the way through Homelander started becoming irritated at his own agitation, he needed a moment alone to collect himself. He had made his way to the rooftop in an attempt to will himself the sanity to get through the night without letting his plastered smile fade away. Or worse. 
The cold night air that swept through the railing of the deck was a great relief. The terrace was secluded and quiet, not many people ever came to the spot as the wind was often too strong or too cold. He was also almost certain an access code was needed through the stairwell door but he never bothered himself with finding out. The mere moments it took for him to reach the top of the building from the ground did more to ease his mind than the lifetime in an elevator would. 
And just as always there was a certain beauty to the city from high above, especially after the sun had set and darkness took its place. The twinkling of lights bouncing between each building, acting as the city’s own form of stars in place of those that you would never see otherwise. There weren’t many things that Homelander found peace in but that was certainly one of them. 
He basked in the nighttime glow, allowing himself the second of peace and quiet before he would inevitably have to return to the crowded room until the tiring event was over. If only he had the power to speed up time. Homelander closed his eyes, filling his lungs deeply with the chilled night air and zoned his ears to the city streets below. The endless sound of traffic, music, idle chatter, and in the between the murmur of noise, sniffles and soft breaths. Loud. Louder than any noise on the ground level which could only mean that it was much closer than the rest. His focus turned to the shuddered whimpers originating behind him somewhere beyond the entryway. 
Normally he would have ignored it, been more ticked off that his area of peace was invaded rather than care for the reason for the pathetic cries, but curiosity got the best of him. He followed the emitting sounds around the roof until the sole proprietor came into view. A vision in a sleek glimmering dress, red faced with wetness trailing down her cheeks propped up against the sheet metal of the rooftop bulkhead. His little intern. 
Her hair gathered into a messy updo that sagged onto her shoulder as her quivering form shook it loose. Her makeup smudged around her eyes as she squeezed them shut in an attempt to stop the small cries from escaping her body. 
She hadn’t noticed Homelander, that much he knew. If she had there was no doubt she would have reacted noticeably. And if he was honest with himself, he would admit that he wasn’t sure what to do about that. His irritation dwindled to an awkward uncertainty of how to handle the situation that he was completely unprepared for. On one hand he was eager to say something, after all, he had been looking for her the entire night and this was a damn near perfect excuse. But on the other hand he could recognize the vulnerable state she was in and how unequipped he was to handle that. Both for her comfort and especially his own.  
He backed away slightly, his apprehension pulling harder in the game of tug of war in his mind. She would likely come back downstairs at some point, the party would still be going on for a while and there was no chance she’d pass up the chance to mingle. She was too driven to let that go. He may have had to extend the time he wanted to waste at the event, but he would if it meant he would find an opportunity to approach her. 
With his mind decided, he turned slightly to make his quiet retreat off the far side of the deck, though not without throwing a glance back over his shoulder one last time. His eyes landed back on the girl as she crumpled inwards even further, a sob wracking through her body. Her arms had crossed around her torso, her hands grabbing at her bicep and waist to hug herself tightly for any sense of comfort. 
His motion to leave had faltered. What could have possibly happened to make his normally bright and spirited intern so visibly distraught? Even his personal shake down didn’t get this reaction from her. 
The back and forth struggle reared in the Supe’s mind once again. He should leave her, let her gather herself back together at her own pace alone like she clearly intended. She had been up on the roof top seeking the same refuge and space that he had, he could choose to respect that. But truthfully, he didn’t want to. He was uncomfortable, he knew that there was little comfort he could give or even wanted to give, but he was also curious. He could almost feel an ounce of anger rising in his veins.
Who had done this to her? 
Homelander took a breath and shuffled closer to the girl, his feet dragging audibly against the slab roof. He was never one to drag his feet though in a quick moment of decision it seemed better to warn the girl of his presence rather than calling out. And his plan worked, with a slight jump in her shoulders the girl’s watery gaze whipped up quickly to meet his approach. She recognized him rapidly, his stark blue suit bright against the night sky and the flagged cape around his shoulders whipping in the winds. She turned her head quickly in the opposite direction, a hand moving to cover her mouth and control her breathing though she knew as well as anybody that there was little that could get past Homelander’s senses. 
“I came up here to be alone,” She said loudly, her voice wavering with the cry that was still caught in her throat. 
“I would say the same but it’s a little hard to find peace and quiet when there’s wailing in the background,” He threw out without a thought. The girl’s head dropped until her chin hit her chest, her shoulder shaking again as new tears fell to her lap. Shit. Homelander shook his head, even when his intentions were halfway positive he couldn’t manage to hold himself back. Just a reminder of why he shouldn’t genuinely try to comfort anyone.
Should he stop? Should he go back downstairs to mind his own business? But his mind would still be on the roof with her, he knew that. He wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about what was happening before him. Then he should apologize…right?
“I-..I’m sorry,” He forced, in his hushed tone it almost sounded genuine. She didn’t bother to look up and certainly not back at him - she didn’t make a move at all. But she didn’t tell him to leave again either and that was enough for him to feel okay with his move towards her. He stood next to her for a moment, glancing down as she continued to curl into herself. There was nothing to be said between them as she cried out whatever was going through her mind, but it eased his mind to be by her through it. And even more as he sat next to her and she didn’t shy away. 
The sheet metal against their backs was cold, even Homelander could feel the discomfort through his suit, but a steady warmth radiated off her body that made the cool night a little more bearable. He looked over at her bare arms and exposed back, trailing the goosebumps that spread across her soft skin where the fabric did not reach. It was clear the temperature was far from a worry in her mind, though it was a wonder if it was also a cause for the tremble through her body. 
Homelander reached his hands around his neck until his fingertips hit the clasps that held his cape to shoulders and collar. He pulled the long piece of patriotic fabric over his back as it came undone in a heap on his lap. 
“Here,” He held out the bunch towards the girl to little reaction. She didn’t look over or even so much as move to see what his offering was. With a sigh he took the liberty to throw the cape over her form, draping it across her shoulders and down her back. She could’ve at least been grateful that he was even trying to be a nice guy.
He waited for a moment for a reaction, a regard of any kind but couldn’t say he was shocked when acknowledgement didn’t come. But as he finally looked back out toward the skyline he caught in the corner of his eye as she moved her hands down to wrap the cape closer around her shivering body. And that was enough for him.  
They sat together in a silence, neither of them pushing a conversation or advancement past their physical presence. It was an odd comfort that neither of them would fess to.
The girl’s cries slowed down being replaced by soft sniffles and sighs. The shake in her body ceased until all was still around them. The sounds were replaced by that all too familiar chaos emanating from street level. Until she finally spoke.
“Why are you still here?” She asked. There was a touch of curtness in her tone though true malice was absent. 
“Why are you crying?”
“Full offense Homelander, what’s it to you?” She shot back. The vitriol in her voice shot surprise through his system, but before he could say anything back she was already speaking again, “You are probably the last person in this entire building to be asking about how I’m feeling. For months you have done nothing besides ridicule me behind my back, roll your eyes at my help, and I don’t even think I have to remind you of the last time we actually worked together. I’m sorry, but I also don't think I need to explain why I’m less than open to expressing my feelings to you.”
She spouted so fast that it took longer for Homelander to even catch all of her words let alone process them. But there were two things he was able to note as she went off and neither had to do with the actual substance of her words. She wouldn’t meet his eye, she stared off into the brightly lit windows of the office building across from them. Her voice wavered as it all poured from her lips, but her confidence was only as strong as her lack of contact. And though her words contained the weight she held in for such a long time, she still couldn’t help but apologize for even saying them. 
That was the girl he knew, the ever people pleaser. 
“I get that,” He replied calmly, as if none of what she said had bothered him at all being that he only caught half of it. She finally looked over to him feeling that his eyes never left her. She searched his face for anything more, any indication that this was an elaborate way for him to hold something over her or if there was an inkling of sincerity in the man. He had never been so agreeable, but there was nothing there to tell her of any ulterior motives. Still, how could she trust that?
“Why are you here, Homelander?” She urged, looking away again. 
He looked over the city with her as he contemplated his answer. Because he was nosy, was that the right answer? It was half the truth. Because he found it more entertaining than what was going on downstairs? That didn’t exactly feel right either. Why was he there? 
“I have nothing better to do,” it was the least he could give her. The least he could make sense of.
She snorted softly, an ounce of a smile ticking up at the corner of her mouth. The statement wasn’t meant to be a joke but her reaction stirred something inside of the man to her side. “There’s an entire party downstairs full of people wanting to be with you.”
“And you think I would rather be in the middle of them?” He spoke honestly, more honest than he’d ever be normally but he could help but have it slip.
She barked a loud laugh, “A chance for people to fawn and admire you? Seems right up your alley honestly.” 
He deserved that one, he knew it. “Believe it or not, I’m not really the biggest ‘fan’ of people.”
“Oh trust me, I believe it,” she scoffed with a sarcastic sneer. She’d been on the receiving end of that very attitude. She learned that the hard way yet still had the respect to keep a smile on her face and her chin up. That’s what rubbed Homelander in such a way when it came to her. She wasn’t just like everybody else, she didn’t comply or shy away. Her case was separate from all others.
“It’s different. You’re different,” He admitted, whether that was good or bad was up for debate between the both of them. He caught the subtle way her body stiffened at his words, but before either of them could think too hard on it he spoke again,  “But that doesn’t matter, this isn’t about me. Tell me why you’re up here crying. Shouldn’t you be brown-nosing with upper management or something?” 
Her shoulders slacked at his tone and words as it returned back to the man she had come to know. Homelander turned his head towards her as his ears caught a sigh of surrender left her, “If I tell you then can we call a truce between us? I’m tired of walking on eggshells.”
He hardly felt a truce was what was needed between them but nonetheless he found himself nodding her along. Another deep sigh left her body as she moved backwards to slump against the wall, her hands gripping his cape tighter to her.
“You were right.” 
He waited for her to continue, his eyes roaming over her form as she still refused to look at him. But as he waited and searched for an explanation, he felt his patience waning.
“Is that it?” He asked with a huff, “That’s not news to anyone.”
The girl laughed softly. A real laugh that lit up her face despite the sparkling of tears left pooling at her eyes. Her smile gleamed the same way he recalled in his memories as they replayed through his nights, too bright and unfeigned. Though in place of the normal annoyance he had felt seeing in the past, a warm comfort hugged his chest. 
“Sorry, I know that wasn’t meant to be funny,” she shook her head and paused for a moment. Her brow furrowed ever so slightly in the silence. The crease in her forehead accentuated the words that were stirring in her mind. Her hesitation was clear but Homelander kept himself silent until she found exactly what she wanted to say, he was curious. 
“You’re kind of an asshole, you know that right?”
The man’s expression wiped from his normally prideful face. Maybe it was the setting, maybe it was her emotions that were already shot, but it seemed her normal respectful and reserved manner had disappeared. Her honesty and lack of care had taken him aback and made him even more interested in what else she had held back, what other thoughts floated in her head, how could he know more? Her hands moved down her form until they rested on her lap, the cape hanging loosely over her bare shoulders. She calmed herself before speaking again, seemingly relaxed further that Homelander hadn’t come back at her with anything to tense the air any further, which was truly the real shock.
“Tripp never actually had any interest in me.”
Homelander thought for a moment, her words hanging between them. Who? The girl looked over to the Supe sitting next to her when no rebuttal came or even a move to respond. For the very first time in her presence, the man looked genuinely confused. Not even an attempt to appear knowing. 
“The guy back during your press round. The one before you…you know.”
Oh.
“The shitty interviewer?” Homelander absolutely never even bothered to know his name. Figured it would be something equally as inept as him. He seethed that you were on a first name basis with the little shit.
“We had been seeing each other since then, I should’ve seen the red flags every time he asked if he could come by the office but I just thought it was sweet. Maybe he wanted to see me so much that he couldn’t wait. But with me being new I always told him it wasn’t a good idea.” She sighed and swiped her hand across her cheek, embarrassment creeping through as she continued, “This morning I invited him to come with me tonight and he seemed excited, asked about the chances of me introducing him to the rest of The Seven. I told him it would be hard because I don’t work with any of you anymore.”
She shook her head, the glistening in her eyes returning as a pitiful laugh escaped her body, “Long story short, once he knew that then all bets were off. Told me if I couldn’t get him closer to you all then there was nothing in it for him. That I was useless to him.”
The girl pulled her legs closer to her body as fresh tears slipped down her blushed cheeks. Soft sniffles came from behind her crossed arms as she hid her face between them. 
Homelander’s jaw clenched. He knew that guy was nothing but a prick, how could she be so naive to put investment into something like that? There was absolutely nothing that guy could’ve offered her that would’ve been worth anything. She was supposed to be smart. 
“You said it best, anyways” she continued quickly, “For once I wanted to feel…wanted, I guess. I’m new to this city, to this job, I feel like I’ve done nothing but mess things up since I’ve been here. Everyone ignored me. A-Train called me stupid the minute I messed up his coffee order and you…you hated me the minute I walked into the room! I came off so badly that Starlight had to give me pep talks in the bathroom. But I still tried and nothing ever got better. Then after the incident with you, Homelander, I was done.”
She was blubbering now, her feelings all resurfacing with each word she choked out through tears, “I was going to quit. You were right, I was useless and it was embarrassing the people I admired so much thought I was annoying . And then when you had me moved, honestly there was a part of me that only took it because I wanted to prove you wrong. But really I was just trying to find that reassurance that I was capable of something. Anything.”
Homelander sat, his mouth slightly agape at the words that poured from her body. She hugged her legs tightly against her chest as sobs filtered into the night. There was a lot more behind that bright smile then met the eye, that was for sure. His words and attitude were meant to disrupt her, every snide remark or glare was truly from the depths of his irked soul. But hearing their effect didn’t bring him the sanctimonious delight that he wanted. The pressure built on the girl until she was inches from breaking, that’s what he wanted, wasn’t it?
“Wait,” Homelander said, “I didn't have you moved.”
“What?”
He shook his head, leaning his elbows onto his knees as he recalled her words, “I never asked for you to be moved. You thought I would help you get a job? After everything I said?”
She wiped the tears from her face, “I thought you just wanted to get rid of me, honestly.”
He huffed a laugh, “If I wanted to get rid of you then you wouldn’t be around anymore. At all.”
That was true, it wouldn’t have even been questioned if he asked that. But despite how much the girl stirred irritation within him, he never thought to get rid of her before her time. If possible it felt this time he may have actually done the opposite of what he really wanted. He may have pushed too far. The days gone by without her around agitated him more than when she was constantly badgering around the conference room. Not knowing where she was, what she was doing, who she was with, what she was thinking. He wanted to know more. He wanted her around more.
He wanted her. 
“I guess I should be grateful then.” She pulled the cape off her shoulder, exposing her back to the night chill once again as she folded it against her lap. Homelander’s eyes dragged down her body without a thought, he had forgotten the jeweled gown that hung off her body. It glittered under the moonlight just like the remaining tears that lay unfallen in her eyelashes, complimenting each other. 
“But anyway, you asked why I was up here so there you go.” 
That’s right. The reason for the tears. Because someone thought that they could break her down and throw her away as if it were nothing. As if there were no consequences because she was just too nice, too wide eyed. Funny thing about repercussions, you never know where they could come from. 
“Who cares what that prick thinks anyway?”  
“You think the same thing, “ she let out a breathy laugh, “you might be more alike than you realize.”
Well that was obviously not true, Homelander thought. That asshole was just a guy, nothing like him at all. He was different. That’s what he wanted to say, but for once he mulled over his words before he spoke. He craved this interaction with her, just the two of them, her walls down and open. He couldn’t have her shut him off, not again.
 “Listen, I've been a dick, I know. You’re capable, you said it yourself. You’ve already proved it.”
She stopped tracing the finely stitched stripes over the cape to look over at him, her expression showing disbelief at what her ears were hearing. “Wow, that was actually sort of nice, Homelander”
Homelander searched her face for a moment, “call me John.”
“What?” “My name is John” He repeated. He pushed and tested the water further, how far could he get before she pulled away from him again? His hand slowly reached to rest over the vibrant red and white of his cape that lay over her thigh. “You don’t need some asshole to tell you that you’re anything. You’ve got friends at Vought, people like you in your office, you've got friends, and some great ideas you’re working on.”
She stared down at his hand touching her over the layers of fabric between them. How would he know all that? He was never around to see how she interacted and certainly none of her ideas or meetings ever got back to him, why would they? Though despite the implications, his words were strangely but heartwarming. 
“You know all that?” She asked, looking back up to meet his gaze. He nodded only to stop abruptly when he realized his slip. He had been watching her, his keen superpowers coming in handy it seemed. If she knew that there was no way she would ever speak to him again, he fucked up even when he was trying not to. But despite his certain thoughts, a small smirk appeared on the girl’s lips. Her hand rounded her side and rested gently over the Supe’s gloved one that still lay gently over her leg. Her fingers slowly wrapped around in a firm squeeze. A friendly gesture that was certainly not expected. 
“Thank you,” she spoke. “Listen, I know you have a lot of pressure on you, more than I can imagine. I get why you are the way you are, even if it’s off putting. So, John, want to spill some feelings on me? Seems like a good start to a friendship here.”
For once he liked the way his name sounded on someone else’s lips. On her painted, glossed lips. It made him feel more important than any headline could. 
“I dont know if I would go that far,” he laughed authentically for the first time in a long time. A new flush form on the girl’s face. This time not one of embarrassment or sadness. 
“You know you’re not so bad when you let people actually have a conversation with you. I actually really liked this, thank you”  They sat there for a moment, hands still in each other's grasp, basking in the feeling of whatever new union was between them and all the unspoken thoughts of what it meant or what it didn’t. The only things that were certain was that Homelander wasn’t going to let her far out of his sight from now on and anyone who wronged her would be thoroughly dealt with. One before the end of that very night. 
The girl took in a deep breath next to him before standing slowly, her dress cascading down her legs as she let go of Homelander’s hand, “We should get back.”  
His eyes watched her as she wiped any makeup that may have smudged out of place and fixed her hair until it sat perfectly at the crown of her head. That sugary scent of her perfume caught in the wind and wafted over him, filling him with craving instead of agitation. But that would have to wait. “I’ll be down in a minute.” 
She looked down at him, a smidge of worry wrinkling between her brow, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just want another second before shaking a hundred more hands,” he smiled at her. It was a familiar smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, one that simmered something else behind it. But as he moved to tuck a wayward hair behind her ear, ease filled her veins. Whatever was on his mind was for him alone.
“Fair enough, I don't envy you,” she admitted, sharing a smile back. Though hers much more genuine as she looked over the Supe, “I’ll find you in there later for a picture of my own.”
Homelander listened to her giggle at her own joke as she turned to make her way back towards the staircase to rejoin the party downstairs. They shared one last look over her shoulder until she descended and disappeared below his view. His smile disappeared immediately without her presence. He had one thing to take care of before he could attempt to enjoy any part of his evening with his newly kindled whatever. 
There wasn’t a chance he would let someone hurt what was his and he would make sure that was known to anyone that dared.
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backandimbamon · 2 years
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hi bamily, this is a fanfic for “The Boys.” like I literally just couldn’t resist after i read this post by @illbejuliet
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because yeah… he totally would. i call this one
BAD HABITS
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America wasn’t something he was proud of, but it was his. A fixer-upper, a hole-in-the-wall. One pathetic little place that he couldn’t help but feel something for despite being weighed down by the responsibility of making such a shitty place perfect.
But no task was too daunting for Homelander. He was made that way. He was the only being capable and determined enough to clean everything and everyone up.
He did care.
Though every now and then it surprised him how much, especially on nights like this where he’d breeze through the city searching for a reason to fly down and scrub the scum away. Obliterate it. Burn it all down, whatever it took.
“What the fuck is that smell?”
The dreadful strangely synthetic mix of strawberry chemical poison. A weighted cloud of it puffing up high enough to break the dew of the city.
He sighed before flying down from the heights, cracking his neck once cement was under his soles. What a great world to bare on the weight of his back.
“H-Homelander!” He was used to that look, the awe, the praise. He glanced at the sniveling boy with acne on his cheeks from dehydration, poor diet, overactive adrenals from having never moved from his gamer chair in his miserable life. And the dreadful stench of that fucking vaporized flash drive. “Can I have your autograph?” He asked and exhaled another noxious cloud.
John looked at him long and hard, unblinkingly, without enough energy to muster the look of disgust- only a stale stare of disappointment; staler even than vape breath. Were these the kind of people he fought for? His eyes started to glow.
No one would miss this kid. Except the cancer that was probably forming in his mother’s lungs.
This kid was a bad habit.
And bad habits died hard.
.
more here
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roselilies · 18 days
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siriuslemonmuffin · 1 year
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instead of bitching why don’t we all just be thankful ao3 doesn’t have ads xxx
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pinkiemachine · 9 months
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The Great Camera Caper PART 20
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carolmunson · 2 months
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the boy is mine | masterlist
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an ongoing collection of ficlets and blurbs by writers of the eddie munson x reader fandom using the same prompt. if you wanna take a crack at it, the guidlines are here!
the boy is mine (luna's edition) by @abibliophobiaa the boy is mine (bluey's version) by @blueywrites the boy is mine (bug's edition) by @munson-blurbs the boy is mine (jo's edition) by @jo-harrington the boy is mine (gab's edition) by @vvitchwords the boy is mine (powder's version) by @powderblueblood the boy is mine (leah's edition) by @eiightysixbaby the boy is mine (taylor's version edition) by @superblysubpar the boy is mine (ziggy's edition) by @trashmouth-richie the boy is mine (roe's version) by @hellfire--cult the boy is mine (amy's edition) by @rehfan the boy is mine (dalia's edition) by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple the boy is mine (cheese's edition) by @br0ck-eddie the boy is mine (hannah's edition) by @writinginthetwilight the boy is mine (amy's edition) by @bangaveragewhitewine the boy is mine (claudia's edition) by @jamdoughnutmagician the boy is mine (v's version) by @lonelysatellites the boy is mine (red's version) by @corroded-hellfire the boy is mine (h's version) by @be-ready-when-i-say-go the boy is mine (the wheels edition) by @wheels-of-despair the boy is mine (emmy's edition) by @upsidedownwithsteve the boy is mine (kittie's edition) by @mrsjellymunson the boy is mine (rose's edition) by @rosebudsgarden the boy is mine (viv's version) by @vivwritescrappythings the boy is mine (z's edition) by @uglypastels
the boy is mine (shiv's version) by @justmyheart the boy is mine (iona's version) by @eddiethefreakkmunson the boy is mine (hope's version) by @hopeluna the boy is mine (eddiessluttywaist's edition) by @eddiessluttywaist the boy is mine (chloe's version) by @doomsdaybby the boy is mine (meg's version) by @courtingchaos the boy is mine (betty's edition) by @bettyfrommars the boy is mine (icallhimjoey's edition) by @icallhimjoey (rpf edition) the boy is mine (carol's edition) by @carolmunson the boy is mine (belle's edition) by @angelgirlworld222 the boy is mine (jade's edition) by @jadewritesficshere the boy is mine (hannah's edition) by @rip-quizilla the boy is mine (manda's version) by @manda-panda-monium-writes the boy is mine (desi's edition) by @lilmissdoomandgloomfics the boy is mine (hdyagimr's version) by @howdidyouallgetinmyroom the boy is mine (mar's edition) by @serasvictoria the boy is mine (sienna's version) by @belokhvostikova the boy is mine (call-me-eds edition) by @call-me-eds
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smuttyaf · 5 months
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I Hate You
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𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰; 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐛𝐨𝐲!𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲. 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞
wc: 5.4k
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“If you don’t stop I’m going to jam that pen through your ear.”
That makes the curly brunette man take his thumb off the button, eyes shifting to give a sidelong glance at you, his mouth slightly agape as he takes in the words.
You had enough of the fingers drumming against the wooden table, the shifting around in his seat constantly, and you definitely had it when he begin clicking his pen away as if you weren’t beside him through this whole class.
“I wanna see you try.” He whispers back, his head turning to smirk at you as his pen now taps against the table gently. Oh, did you want to ring your hands around his neck.
Harry Styles, the man on campus that everyone is friends with and the one that has all the ladies gossiping about. Despite him being known for his social life he also was part of a fraternity. They were popular for throwing the most outrageous parties but also pulling the stupidest pranks throughout the year— you absolutely despised them. Sloppy drinking, chain-smoking, and making themselves look like complete idiots streaking during the schools football games.
So when you walked into your English Lit class and your teacher decided to sit you next to each other for the whole semester, you wanted to claw your eyes out. Every class he would come in and purposely let his bag hit your head, his feet kicking the leg of your chair as his knees would dig into your lower back before taking his seat. At first, you paid no mind to it because it was a tight space to fit in, however when it became an everyday occurrence and his sarcastic smile and fake tone of apologies would start you would just roll your eyes.
But, him sitting next you in class wasn’t the worse thing… It was the fact that your dorm roommate was dating one of his fraternity brothers. So nearly every weekend or event that they hosted, you always managed to get dragged along to have him pick on you.
You didn’t like Harry at all. You didn’t like his stupid curls, his laugh, or tattoos that make him look like a unfinished scrapbook, and you definitely did not like the fact that he stares back at you as if you were a joke.
You squint your eyes at him and press your lips together, your fingers that were pressed into the keys of your laptop curling in on themselves as you resist the urge to strike him.
“Easy there,” He chuckles, his eyes flickering to your balled up fists before turning his head towards the teacher, the grey haired man stands in front of the podium making drastic gestures with his hands. “You wouldn’t hurt me, now would you?” Harry questions, his pen going behind his ear as he closes his laptop and notebook, stuffing it into his bag.
Before you know it, Mr. Dawson is announcing the homework for over the weekend while telling everyone he’ll see them Monday. The seat next to you pushes away from the table, and you feel his feet kick your chair and knees dig into your back. Only making your fists grow even tighter, you plant your feet flat on the carpet and push your chair against his bent legs, that makes a groan escape Harry’s lips as you stand with your closed laptop and bag, eyes staring into each other as you look at him amused.
“You wouldn’t hurt me, now would you?” You mock him before tugging off to the library.
Why couldn’t you have one encounter with him were he wasn’t a complete dickhead.
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White mini skirt and matching tube top cling to your skin, the pink cropped leather jacket shifted tightly on your shoulders as your feet tip toe towards the mirror to see yourself. You thought you looked stupid, but Faye thought otherwise.
“You need to dress like this more,” She insisted, her brown eyes wide as they scaled your body. You shook your head and groan.
“Like a joke?” You sigh, your head leaning to the side as you looked at your figure. You were never one to dress in revealing clothes, you loved crewnecks and cargo pants, especially your Converses and Vans.
“Hey!” Faye says while giving you a puzzled look.
“You know what I mean, this stuff looks good on you… not me…” You say, body now turning in the mirror to see your side profile.
You had no choice but to dress as if you were a plastic doll. The Barbie movie just recently came out which made Faye’s boyfriend, Niall, think it would be a good idea to throw a party insisting everyone dress up as if they were in “Barbie’s Dream House”. That’s why you’re standing in the mirror, white opened toed heels and curled hair staring back at you as Faye tried to make you look like Biker Barbie.
“You look hot Y/N, don’t overthink it,” She says while taking your shoulders in her hands and shaking you gently, making you let out a nervous laugh.
She’s right, don’t overthink it, you’ll most likely be surrounded by dim lights and drunken bodies that no one will even notice your change of appearance.
However, despite those words that played over and over again in the back of your head, your thoughts begin to fill as you stepped into the house. Each person you passed by, gazing their eyes over your skin, lazy smiles sent your way while winks would drop other times, and you just simply wanted to disappear.
“Let’s go get a drink,” Faye yells in your ear over the pumping music. You nod your head in agreement and made your way into the familiar kitchen.
“Fancy seeing you here!” The usual Irish voice of Niall calls to Faye as he brings her into embrace. You let a small smile slip on your lips before you see Harry next to him with an amused face.
As Faye and Niall chatted with each other while taking red cups apart to pour liquor in, Harry stepped closer to you; his curls are tossed away behind his ears as he had a sleeveless light blue jean jacket with matching pants on, his tattoos exposed and glistening against the lights.
“You look good for once!” He quips, his red cup knocking against his chest. The smile falls from your lips as you send daggers at him.
“Do you ever shut up,” You say, your eyes tearing away from him and to the red cup that Faye hands you.
“Hey! I was being nice for once!” Harry chimed, lips dropping into a pout as you watch his free hand raise to his chest in hurt. Instead, you ignore him and pay attention to whatever Faye was talking about but that doesn’t last long when you feel a finger poke your hip and you’re glaring back at the tattooed man.
“Am I not Kenough?” He questions, and that only makes you snort as a laugh trails out after, understanding his reference. “There it is,” Harry grins as he takes a drink from his cup. You only roll your eyes and focus back on the previous conversation.
“Whatever,” You mutter while taking a sip of your overly strong drink.
Soon that cup turned to four more, the overthinking thoughts about how embarrassing you thought you looked tonight slipped your mind as you were dancing with the cute boy in your Social Science course, your hands wrapped around the nape of his neck as he runts his hips against your backside.
For once, you were actually happy that you came to the party and drunk more than your normal limit. You were fed up with school and with midterms around the corner, you needed this type of fun. As you felt the room beginning to twist in your version, you turn around in Caleb’s hold and let your hands rest along his chest.
“Tired?” He questions, brown eyes peering down at you as his lips tucked into his teeth. You nodded your head in response, your finger tips feeling over his flannel as you lean into him.
“Let’s go upstairs Kels,” Caleb leans down and whispers but that only makes a frown tug on your lips.
“Kels? I’m Y/N.” You state, tone filled with annoyance that the man you had your eyes on in class had his elsewhere. You feel his head move away from your ear, his eyes raking over your face as a goofy grin begins to spread.
“Oh! Y/N! You look so different… you’re not dressed like a boy, I like it!” Caleb says, only making your stomach twist in disgust.
“Yeah…” You say, small smile replacing the frown as you feel yourself step back from his touch. “I’m just gonna go to the washroom,” You rush, tearing away from his hold and not waiting for his response.
You felt your throat begin to swell as you tried to push your way through the mess of people on the makeshift dance floor. You’re not dressed like a boy. Was he serious? That’s what he thought when he saw you? Even the fact that he called you someone else’s name! You wanted to crawl into your bed and die.
Shouts begin to ring out as the floor vibrates, everyone jumping to the party anthem playing which only makes your exit out of the living room worse. You felt your cheeks heat up and tears at the brim of your eyes, just wanting to go to the bathroom as soon as possible to let them escape.
But just your luck, as the chorus rings through the air the floor boards pound under your heels, you feel cool liquid running from your chest to your stomach. Brown booze dripping on the burrowed two piece outfit and at that point you feel your ears burn, and if you could grow horns out of your head you’re sure they would be there.
Your gaze turns away from your sticky stomach and towards the culprit who spilled it on you, your eyes meeting the familiar green ones who sits next to you in English. As your lips press together and your finger nails leave indents in your skin, you watch Harry’s eyes bulge and his mouth drop in complete shock.
“I— I’m so sorry.. I d—didn’t mean too—“
“I hate you.” You spew, cutting him off and giving him an icy glare. Your body immediately brushing past him and traveling upstairs to get away from the party that you now wished you didn’t attend at all.
Of course, Harry had to be the one to top off this moment and ruin your outfit that you know you’d have to pay Faye back for— because this was definitely not coming out. You could handle his kicking and snarky comments, but draw the line at him completely damaging something that didn’t belong to you.
You were pissed, drunk, and wanted to be buried six feet under; but instead you stomped your way up the stairs and into an empty bedroom.
Looking at yourself in the mirror, you see the stain taking up the white material, only making your eyes press shut as you feel tears begin to trail down your cheeks. This was so embarrassing; first you’re wearing something you wouldn’t ever step out in, you finally have a moment with the guy you’ve been staring at since the beginning of the semester— just for him to say you dress like a boy! And to top it off, now you have a full cup of god knows what all over you. This night sucked.
“Y/N…” You hear Harry’s voice behind the door with a knock. You open your eyes and roll them, throat letting a sigh slip out as you run your fingers against your cheeks, wiping away the tears.
“What.” You say back, turning around to rest your back against the sink.
“I—I’m being so honest with you, I didn’t mean to spill my drink on you, I promise, it was a mistake.” Harry said behind the door, his voice muffled but you can tell for once he actually sounds sincere, but who knows he also could be faking it to make you feel better.
“Sure Harry,” You called back, hand leaning down as you rake your fingers through your hair, the tear streaks drying on your skin and making your cheeks feel tight when you speak.
With surprise you heard the rumble of the door knob and soon is faced with Harry who actually has a sad look written on his features.
“Ever heard of privacy,” You mutter, your eyes tearing away from his and looking at the white tiled floor.
“It’s my bathroom,” Harry responds, only making you suck in your breath and fingers drum against the porcelain sink, not realizing it was his room you escaped too.
“I’m sorry. I’ll leave.” You rush, eyes still down as you break away from your stance and move towards the door. That only makes Harry stand in front of you and block your movements.
“No it’s okay don’t worry, it’s my fault. Believe me Y/N, I really didn’t mean to fuck up your outfit.” He says, genuinely which makes your gaze tear and lock with his. Your breath catches in your throat because for once he doesn’t have a menacing look.
“Okay.” You say, lips being sucked into your mouth as your stare never wavers.
“L—Let me get you a change of clothes,” Harry urges, his feet stepping back as he makes his way out of the bathroom and walk over to his dresser. This makes you trail behind him as your hands tug at the bottom of the dirty skirt riding up.
“Oh spare clothes of the girls you sleep with, yay,” You sarcastically remarked, heels clicking against the floor boards as you followed him.
“Ha ha.” Harry says, his voice serious as he dug into his top drawer and pulled out a plain black tee. That only makes you chew down on your lip, your fingers taking the garment in your hand, eyes running over how big it is compared to your frame.
“Trust me, everyone will be too drunk to remember what people were wearing tonight,” He spoke, both of his hands going to either side of him as he leans against the dresser, and maybe it’s the alcohol in your system but the way he is against the furniture with his jacket opened displaying his tattoos, has your mind forgetting about his treatment towards you over the past few months.
“I figured,” You mumble as you tear the t-shirt away from your chest and your eyes flicker between it and the brunette before you. “Uh.. can you turn around?” You question while beginning to shrug off the pink leather jacket.
“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Harry scoffs while tearing his tattooed arm off the dresser and letting his hand cover his eyes. You scoff while kicking off your heels and tugging the damp clothing off your skin. “What?” Harry counters, you see his eyebrows push together in his palm as he questions your response.
“I just dress like a boy… that’s all. I bet I’m not exactly the girl you look at…” You mumble, the feeling of the clean fabric running down your skin makes your fingers gaze over it.
“I think you dress cute,” Harry confesses. The compliment making your cheeks heat up and your palms grow with sweat. You really shouldn’t even be glowing from his words. This was the guy who tormented you since September; hitting you with his book bag, giving snarky comments and mean jabs. Why are his words making butterflies erupt in your stomach.
“You’re just saying that, let’s not forget what you said in the kitchen…” You respond, leaning down and picking up the drenched clothing and balling them together. “You can look now.” You state, as you see him put his hand down and give you a bright smile. The way he’s acting so different from what you’re use to, maybe it’s the alcohol in both of your systems.
“You know I was just teasing… but why does it even matter?” Harry ask, that only makes your eyes tear away and look at your polished toes running over each other against the dark hard wood.
“It’s nothing… it’s whatever really,” You sigh, fingers now playing with the ends of his shirt.
“Is that what the guy you were dancing with told you?” Harry asks, only making your head snap up and send him questioning gaze.
“You were watching me?” You inquire. His turn to now dip his head down and avoid your eyes.
“I wouldn’t say that… I just noticed, that’s all.” He says, his head swinging a bit as he lifts himself off the dresser and makes a step towards you, his hand taking the wet clothes.
“Promise I’ll get the stain out,” He remarks, a goofy look on his face and that only makes you smirk.
“Make that promise to Faye, not me.”
“Fuck… She’s gonna have me dead.”
The two of you erupting in drunken laughter at the image of Faye seeing her ruined garments, just knowing the screaming match she’ll have with Harry.
“Why can’t you be like this all the time?” You asked, your hand reaching to your chest as you try to regain your breath.
“You’re the one who hates me,” Harry says giving you a pointed look. “You’re the one who’s mean to me.” You remark your chin tilting as you stare up at him.
“You can’t even blame me,” He smiles while rolling his eyes, his arms crossing over each other and the heat of him radiates onto your body. “You’re cute when you’re mad.” His head leaning down and placing a small peck on your lips.
You were stunned in place, your eyes still open as he continues to place small kisses on your lips. As you leaned in closer to him, his hands tore away from his chest to drop the clothes and hold your hips. What the fuck was actually going on right now? You were really kissing Harry and it felt good— you didn’t want to admit.
The peppering kisses turned into lips syncing onto each other, your eyes now fluttering shut while your hands lie on his inked chest. It felt so wrong but the way his lips tasted of cherry coke and rum, you wanted to get drunk off it.
Deep breathes and needy hands were soon shared between the both, your fingers were now running through the hair on the nape of his neck while his roams your backside. The way his huge hands were pushing your cheeks and shoving you closer to him made you wet.
You pulled away from his lips, a string of saliva linking you too together which makes Harry smirk, his eyes glossy and lips bruised red. You wanted to fuck him so bad.
“You’re a shit kisser.” You remark. His smirk falling as his hands tighten around your ass.
“Shut up,” He mutters before pressing his lips roughly against yours, his fingers slipping deeper to cup your bum, some digits gliding over your heat only making you whimper at the touch.
His tongue tangled with yours as his chest closed the space left between you two. Harry’s weight molding onto you as he forces you to take steps back until your knees hit the bed frame and you’re falling back onto the mattress. You let your elbows push you up on the bed, your eyes locking with his as he lowers himself on you, his lips pressing back against you as your thighs bring him in.
His clothed member pushes against your heat which only makes a whimper escape, you still can’t get over that he has his tongue in your mouth but now you’re making him hard. Was this really the same guy you were cussing at just a few hours ago.
Harry’s hands move away from your shoulders and spread to where your thighs hold him, the way his hands feel running down your skin has you pushing yourself deeper into his touch.
“Easy there…” He mutters against your lips when he pulls away, his lips traveling to your neck to then run over your clothed breasts, his eyes looking to yours as his lips gaze your nipples. You wanted to moan at the sight, the way his curls surrounded his face, his green orbs staring back at you while he descended down your body.
“Harry,” You whisper when you feel his breath rush over your stomach, his hands slipping under his shirt and feeling over your hips before playing with the band of your panties.
His response to the call of his name, was peeling the material down your legs and his mouth pressing open kisses onto your hip bone. Your heart beat was making your chest hurt from how nervous yet excited you are; was this really about to happen?
Your question was soon answered when you felt his breath against your heat, his hands pushing the shirt over your hips as you watch his curls brush against your inner thighs when you feel him lick a stripe up your folds. This made you dig your teeth into your bottom lip because, yeah this was happening.
Green eyes looking back at you as his tongue runs back up your slit to let it circle around your clit, lips suckling on the nerves before dangling it with his tongue again. This made your head knock back and your eyes flutter shut, he was teasing you, like he always does.
His mouth repeats those motions as moans tremble from your lips, head resting on your shoulder as you look at him sucking your folds. You let your free hand run through his hair, tugging at it lightly.
“I know you can do better than that.” You remark, eyes batting at him slowly as you push back down on him. In that moment you swear you watched his eyes glaze over a different shade, his hands gripping against your hips roughly as he lets his tongue delve into you.
Thick and slicked with spit his muscle flexed it’s way between your folds, his nose rubbing against your clit as he licked into you, humming against your heat as his nails left indents in your skin. Words can’t even express how it felt, the way his tongue just roamed inside you so wickedly that it had whimpers and moans leave you.
The view of him was even better, his eyes fluttering as he looked like he was pleased with the way you tasted, his hair falling over his forehead. The look of Harry between your legs only makes you moan again and squeeze your thighs against his face, his fingers bruising your skin from how hard he’s holding you.
You let your back completely fall to the mattress, both hands now carding though his hair as you let your hips roll against his mouth, his tongue now lying flat against your heat as he lets you ride him. Hips running up and down the expanse of his muscle, clit smoothing against taste buds as you work yourself on him, Harry’s mouth moaning against your pussy as he peeled his eyes open to stare at you, the sight making you moan immediately.
You were too tipsy to even comprehend that this was actual reality; you were suppose to hate Harry, despise him! Yet, he was between your legs and sending shockwaves throughout your nerves.
Fingers tighten in the curly locks as your hips stutter and jerk on his tongue, the sinking feeling in your abdomen tightens as your orgasm creeps upon you. The feeling of his fingers pushing down on your hips making you seep deeper into the mattress, and moan at the roughness of his touch.
The ball in your stomach begins to build, your chest breathing in shallow breaths as your thighs twitch, his tongue licking you into bliss. Just as you feel the nerves in your stomach nearly burst, the heat of his muscle tears away and makes a cry leave your lips while Harry placed wet kisses up your body.
“You didn’t think I was gonna let you get off this easy,” Harry hums against you, his hands leaving your hips and letting it rake his shirt over your head. They then go to take off his jacket and tug his jeans down, your hands immediately going to peel his boxers down his thighs.
“For someone who hates me so much, you really want my dick right now,” He mutters, his hand going to his exposed member and rubbing himself, the sight making you clench your legs.
Now, you can really see what the girls on your campus were talking about; the way his hair dropped in loose curls surrounding his face, tattoos that flex so nicely in the dim lighting of the room, and the way he’s staring at you like he’s craving you. You finally see it.
Harry lets himself run against your heat, his head lying on your clit and rubbing over it only making you suck in a breath. He was pressed so nice and warm against you while toying with your nerves. Seconds later, he leans down and lets drool slip from between his lips to trace down his dick to drip between your exposed folds. You wanted to look at this sight forever, but you hate the fact that you like this so much but can’t help but too, Harry was hot you had to admit.
The thoughts leave your mind when you feel his head slip into you, edging himself back out slowly before continuing to seep back in. Once again, he was teasing you but you had enough with this game since you just wanted the feeling of him inside you finally.
You let your hands dig into the sheets while moving your hips down on him, his dick slipping deeper into you which only elects moans from both of you. The thickness of him buried around your tight walls sends a blissful sensation of yourself stretching around him, your mouth hangs slightly open while your eyes flutter.
Harry doesn’t take the chance to tease you anymore, instead he slips all of himself inside of you before drawing back slowly and sinking into your dripping pussy. His head leaning down to lay in the crook of your neck and press kisses against the skin there, while he continue to peel his hips back and dive back into you.
“Pussy feels so good,” Harry grunts into your ear as he begins to pick up the pace and smack his hips against yours.
Your eyes peel open and let your hands rest along his ribs, your head knocked back into the pillows and gaze caught between the loose ringlets of his curls and the popcorn ceiling, as the sound of the wetness between your legs is accompanied by the slamming of his hips fills the room. You couldn’t remember the last time you had mind blowing sex like this, it must be months now. But, the wait was definitely worth it, because the feeling of Harry’s dick diving into you while his grunts and moans filled your ear was something that you wanted to last forever.
Yet, you still couldn’t believe it was him doing this to you. You don’t think you’ll ever get over this. The man you’re suppose to hate is filling your walls and captivating every cell in your body to fall under his spell.
“You fill me up so—“ You’re words being cut off when you feel Harry pull himself out until his head is breached and thrust back into you, the motions repeating themselves which only makes your mouth hang open and your nails sink into his skin.
Completely cut off guard by the change of his rhythm, you were starstruck. Your eyes fluttering close and letting him do absolutely whatever he wanted to you, just accepting the fact that he was digging into you so deliciously that you had no words to express what you were feeling.
The smell of rum and cherry fills your nose as you feel his lips link with you, his mouth moaning when your tongues lock together, hips never stopping their tantalizing movements. The feeling of him filling up your pussy with his thickness, the way you managed to become more wet by the different flow of his hips, the way his body heat covered you like a blanket.
The familiar feeling of your climax welcomes you again as Harry keeps on thrusting himself inside of you. The ball in your stomach, unraveling with each stroke only making your thighs clench tighter and pull him into you more.
“Mhm… you like me fucking you?” Harry breathes against your lips only making you cry out in frustration as you feel yourself beginning to come apart underneath him, and the fact that he’s talking to you like this is only bringing it on even more.
You nodded your head silently, eyes fluttering open to peer into his olive ones while his bushy eyebrows were knit together.
“Answer me,” He continues his hand that was by your head wrapping around your throat and you knew just by the feeling of his fingers against the skin there, you were done.
“Yes,” You cried out, eyes never tearing away as you felt the bundle of nerves in your stomach burn inside you. Your legs shaking, thighs wrapping tighter around him and nails now dragging down his sides tiredly as the feeling of pure euphoria washes over you.
Harry thrusts however never slowed down, he kept the rhythm while staring down at you, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip as he watched your face go through phases of pleasure. Your fingers leave his back and trail to his neck, legs hanging loosely around him while you stare back up at him, the beating in your heart slowing down compared to the way it was erratically beating before.
“You’re so hot when you come all over me,” He mutters, his head dipping down and now sucking bruises onto your skin. Butterflies spread in your stomach and to stop a smile from forming you bite the inside of your cheek.
His hips begin to slow, breath blowing over you shallowly and the feeling of him sliding between your walls steadily, only making you crane your neck to the side to get him to look at you. Harry tears his head away from your neck, his lips stuck between his teeth and brows still furrowed.
“Fuck,” He grunts, the feeling of him buried in your heat immediately withdrawn as his warm seed spills on your stomach. You watch his chest heave up and down as he regains his breath. Soon, the warmth of him leaves your body as you watch him sit back on his knees, his arm reaching over to his discarded shirt you once wore and wiping away the fluid.
“Seems like you just make a mess everywhere you go,” You remark, that only makes Harry let out a small laugh before tossing his shirt on the floor. He tugs his boxers over his hips and kicks the rest of his jeans off, you let yourself slip into the sheets while he lies next you.
The room grows quiet, the only sound being heard is the party downstairs. Now your thoughts run wild, you’ve sobered up a bit but still in a daze, wondering if Harry is regretting what just happened.
“Are you going to go back to hating me after this?” Harry asked, his voice deep as he turned to look you.
Fingers twisting together, you let your gaze turn away from him and look at the sheets before you. If you were being honest, you were more confused then anything about what this meant and how you felt towards him now; you couldn’t explain how you felt, still stuck between the way he treated just hours before to how he made you feel just minutes ago, how can you explain what you feel?
“You’ll just have to wait and see…”
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yaplegeske · 2 days
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screwpinecaprice · 1 month
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Just a silly guy, with silly silly thoughts.
@glowweek Day 2
Casual | Surprise
A casual surprise?😬😬😬
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tom-whore-dleston · 3 months
Text
Side Effects of Soldier Boy
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Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x f. reader
Word Count: 391
This fic contains: smut, literally PWP, drug use, unprotected sex, dirty talk, swearing, degradation, Soldier Boy doesn't pull out
Summary: Soldier Boy tries to keep you quiet during sex.
Notes: Wake up babes, Jordan discovered a new hottie to write about lmaoo Anyways, I know Soldier Boy is a walking red flag but unfortunately, I see the world through rose colored glasses hadshghsdl This is another submission for @flashfictionfridayofficial's prompt no. 239: Seal it Tight. Lowkey, I've been on a role with these quick fics, I don't want it to stop.
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Sex with Soldier Boy was addicting. You would say it was more addicting than the cocaine that coursed your system. The blow was essentially the gateway drug to Ben.
The side effects: uncontrolled moans and orgasms that made your soul leave your body.
The two of you found yourselves in a rundown motel room, where Ben plowed you into the mattress at superhuman speed. His strong hand clasped over your mouth, in hopes to seal your cries of pleasure from the outside world. Considering how cocky of a bastard he is, it was bold of him to assume that simply covering your mouth would keep you quiet.
“Mmm, baby, those moans are so pretty, but so loud.” The supe grunted through clenched teeth. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as Ben’s pulsing cock stretched your walls. You gushed around him, causing each thrust to echo through the dainty room.
“God damn, even this pussy is loud,” Soldier Boy chuckled, making you throb. “Think you want the neighbors to hear me fuck the shit out of you, huh?” 
His dirty talk was no help to hushing your moans. Yet, it did push you closer to that sweet release you craved. With Ben being the instigator he is, he knew damn well what he was doing. 
The pit in your stomach was growing and it was only a matter of time before it exploded. You pumped your hips up to meet his and he took this as a signal to deepen his strokes until his balls slapped your ass. You were one step away from the edge when Ben removed his hand from your mouth to throw both of your legs over his shoulders.
“Fuck it, let the neighbors hear you. Let ‘em know how much of a slut you are for me.”
That euphoric bliss finally washed over you like a crisp ocean wave. You could have drowned under the wave but a kiss from Ben brought you back to shore. The handsome supe slammed into you one last time before filling you with his seed. He crashed onto the empty side of the bed, fingers lazily tangling between yours. The two of you laid there, staring at the cracked ceiling while catching your breaths. Just as you were coming down your high, you already itched for another hit.
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Navigation | Fanfic Masterlist | Soldier Boy Masterlist
header credit: @saradika | divider credit: @firefly-in-darkness
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I Warned You
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Summary: Soldier Boy has warned you, and you've disobeyed his direct order once again. You should have known punishment was coming.
Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut. All smut. Dom!Soldier Boy, Sub!reader, spanking with a belt, pain, tears, degrading names used, punishment, implied smut, implied pussy spanking, implied over-stimulation, implied edging, implied orgasm denial.
Pairings: Soldier Boy x Y/N
Word Count: 389
A/N: So, I’ve decided to do all 30 of these writing prompts. I may miss a day here and there, but I’m going to try to do one a day, and I will be completing all 30 no matter what.  They won’t always be in order.  This fic will be for the prompt: Write only the dialogue for a scene.
I will be putting together a Masterlist for all 30 prompts and adding it to my main Masterlist.
A/N 2: So, I saw this post from @siospins2 and I decided I just had to write that fic she mentioned, sorry if this is much dirtier than you'd imagined! I'm not even sure this could be classified as a fic - it's literally just filth, since it's literally, just dirty dom/sub talk. It was weird to write something with no prose whatsoever, but kind of an interesting exercise. As you're reading, I invite you to remember just how fucking sexy Soldier Boy's voice is! 🤤🤤🤤 Hope you enjoy this for what it is!
(Oh, and P.S. @charred-angelwings this post is the inspiration for the shield inclusion! So thank you! 😁)
The beautiful text divider at the bottom, was created by @firefly-graphics
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“Private Y/L/N! Get your ass into my tent, now!”
.
.
.
“Yes, Sir?”
“What did I say would happen the next time you disobeyed a direct order, private?”
“I would receive discipline.”
“That’s right.  I warned you. And did you or did you not disobey my direct order by charging into that fucking fight, half-cocked like you did?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“What did I say your discipline would be, private?”
“Bent…bent over your shield and given twenty lashes.”
“That’s right.  Now, I drove the shield into the ground far enough to hold your weight when you’re bent over it.  So, get those fatigues down to your ankles, get on your knees, and bend over the shield, hands flat on the ground, ass in the air.”
.
“Now!”
“Y-Yes, Sir.”
.
.
“Ass up, further.  Now, I’m using my belt, piss me off more and I’ll go cut down a switch.  Twenty strokes.  Count them off.”
“Yes, Sir…one!”
.
.
“Two! Three! Four!”
“Get your fucking hands back on the ground.  You try to cover your ass one more time, and your punishment will go on all night. And it’s gonna involve a hell of a lot more than my belt connecting with your ass.  You understand me?”
“Yes, Sir, I’m sorry.”
“Start at four again, since that last one didn’t count.”
“Four!”
.
.
“Five. Six. Seven!”
“Save your fucking tears. You put other soldier's lives in danger today with your actions. You know you deserve every stroke, tell me.”
“Yes, Sir, I deserve it.”
.
.
“Eight!”
“Nine!”
“Ten!”
“Eleven!”
“Twelve!”
“ Thir-“
“Fucking disobedient, bitch! Get your hands on the fucking ground! I warned you. You’re going to be begging me for mercy by the time I’m done with you now. But first you’re going to take these last eight strokes.”
“Yes, Sir.”
.
“Thirteen!”
“Fourteen!”
“Fifteen!”
“Sixteen!”
“Spread your legs, bitch.  These last four are for your pussy.  Gonna get it ready to be fucking ruined by me. This cock is gonna have you begging to come, but it’s not gonna happen. I’m gonna bring you to the edge over and over and over, and maybe, sometime tomorrow, if you beg me like a good, obedient little soldier, I’ll let you come on my cock.”
.
.
.
“Stop crying, whore. I warned you.”
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@lyarr24
To see the second part of the night, read the short sequel:
Creating a Rebel
1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays.
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unmarlou · 3 months
Text
time to pretend.
pairings. slytherins x fem!reader
summary. a typical day at the summer house.
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lacy says. saltburn inspo but no bath water :/ this is bad lol purely for the aesthetic.
· · ౨ৎ · ·
"oi!"
the morning sun was beaming down stronger than yesterday. your sunglasses weren't even enough to keep you from squinting, though the book in your hands did good job if held at the right angle. and had it not been for the towel between, your skin would've been sticking to the lawn chair.
"morning blaise..." pansy said dreamily at your right. she was still half asleep.
you looked over your shoulder and saw blaise approaching, draco in tow. "didn't even bother to tell us you were out here, i see."
"we wanted you to get your beauty sleep, darling. nice swim trunks." they had tiny hula girls on them.
"i am a man of fashion." he plopped himself at the chair to your left, adjusting his shorts and sunglasses. he flashed a smile - a pretty one that only he could own and flaunt regardless the time of day. he quickly nudged your leg and pointed to draco, who sat at pansy's feet.
he was covered in noticeable amounts of sunscreen, head to toe. not only with a look of distain on his face but his slouch conveyed a message just fine on its own.
involuntarily a snort escaped, followed by stifled laughs.
"oh shut up."
even pansy, who was curled on her side away from everyone, sticking her hand out to some small animal, laughed, "we're only admiring you.”
all he could do was roll his eyes.
"stolen my chair then, have you?"
everyone’s attention turned to the voice, only to see enzo, also in his bathing suit, holding a platter of fruit. he almost looked like the cover of a magazine your mother wouldn't let you buy.
glancing over the back of the chair you could see mattheo and theodore walking in the field, talking lazily, probably sharing their first hellos of the day.
lorenzo placed the silver plate down on the small table between the chairs. you had asked him to bring something to eat expecting a piece of toast, though with him, you should've known better.
"well we can share, you know?"
"thank you, enzo."
he gave you a quick nod and wink, his way of saying no problem, never wanting to make a big deal out of gestures he found to be the minimum in his friendships.
"want me to sit on your lap then, blaise?"
draco rang on your left, "past a strawberry… please."
your arm extended to him, presenting three instead of just one. he cracked a reluctant smile, always surprised at how well you all knew him, never letting him stay miserable for long, "thanks."
a new shadow appeared on the ground in front of you causing you to peer up and greet theodore, "fruit?"
he shook his head, eyes still puffy and barely open, indicating he had just awoken. he stretched and rested his hands on either side of yours and pansy's chairs. bringing his forehead down to his left hand, he seemed to be taking a chance at sleep again.
"theo's had a rough morning."
you turned again and almost cackled at the sight of lorenzo sitting in blaise's lap, and mattheo sitting in lorenzo's. you could've sworn you saw the chair slightly give way under their weight.
pansy teased, "but an excellent night, isn't that right, teddy?"
he groaned loudly. drinking was never his strong-suit. he could roll and smoke all day, even on his worst, but going shot-for-shot was something he did only when feeling the most audacious. and something he always came to regret.
he shuffled his way to the small dock at the pond in front of you. eyes still closed, he laid down on the edge, his arm hanging over and into the water.
"hangover so bad he had to reconnect with nature."
“we’ve all been there.”
you smiled idly. placing the book on your stomach, not even considering an odd tan line. tilting your head back, your eyes closed.
a breeze blew, giving your skin a break from the exhausting heat it was under. you could feel the full trees above sway, and hear the water of the pond move with theodore’s helping hand. the low indistinct chatter of your friends simply background noise to remind you you weren’t alone in this oasis.
most mornings were like this. easy and quiet, any and all problems excluded from this place, this bubble of a world you had. if ever asked what moment you wished you could relive again and again, it would always be this.
-
the large, wall lining, arched windows of the left wing hallway made it the sunniest place in the house at this time of day. and the cold tile felt nice under your concrete-burnt feet.
the windows were wide open, allowing the plants and hung-dry linens of the courtyard to creep in and fill the corridor with a scent that could make one nostalgic for a place and time they’ve never even been.
your steps were the only sound until they multiplied. by the cadence of the walk, you knew who it was.
“theodore feeling any better?”
“loads,” in the corner of your eye you could see him pull a cigarette out and spark a light, he took a long drag before continuing, “gave him one of my cures.”
you shuddered, twisting your face. mattheo had an affinity for putting ingredients in a pot, mixing it up, and saying it would fix any and all problems. sometimes you thought even he didn’t believe his own words, he just liked seeing your face contort in disgust. “let me know when his tail starts growing.”
entering the room at the end of the hall, the sound of the shower running became clear. the french doors of the back wall were open, allowing air to flow freely.
you spun on your heel and allowed yourself to fall onto the four-poster, now staring at the charm displayed up on the canopy. one you recognized, as all your parents used to do it when you were children; a depiction of the night sky, to lull you to sleep and wish you sweet dreams.
mattheo was on his stomach next to you, carefully tapping ashes off the side of the bed. in the lighting of the room you could see how summer had be treating him, skin tanned by the sun, while his hair only got lighter. he tapped your arm for your attention, and pointed to the bathroom, furrowing his brows.
“pansy.” you answered.
an oh formed on his face.
the sound of wind chimes rang in the distance, accompanied by tree leaves brushing against each other, and birds singing softly. there were actually a few birds gathered at the small balcony just outside the french doors. they always seemed to gravitate towards pansy, all the beauty in life resided to her.
“i wonder what snape is doing right about now.”
you groaned, putting your hands over your face, trying to hide from the imagine of your professor in your mind, “don’t mention him, his energy will invade the space.”
“say his name three times and he’ll appear, you know!” pansy’s shouting voice carried into the room. there was actually no need for her to, you could hear her perfectly fine seeing as the bathroom door was wide open; she hated having it closed, never wanting to be separated from the rest of world for too long.
you shouted back, “says she who flirts with him for a higher grade!”
“it’ll work one day, just you wait!”
this was true, she was absolutely convinced she could charm her way to at least Exceeds Expectations. not that anything had given her an indication it had worked in the past. or ever.
mattheo sat up, almost choking on his laugh, “just do what enzo does, pretend your best friends with him.”
the shower turned off, followed by long rustled movement before she walked out. she held a stark white towel to her body, water droplets coming off her hair and onto her freckled collarbones. “does it work?”
he ran a hand through his hair while reaching to put his cig out on the bedside ashtray, “ ‘course not. but easier to watch and keep the lunch down than your attempts.”
she made a face before opening one of the dresser drawers next to her and chucking a pair of balled-up socks at him.
suddenly the door bursted open, presenting blaise and lorenzo. they wore cheesy smiles and had their arms extended out beside themselves, “OUR DINNER OUTFITS!”
both were still wearing their swim trunks from earlier in the day, yet this time accompanied by suit jackets, ties, - that certainly did not match and they definitely dug up from the attic - dress shoes, and jewelry to go with. theo ran up behind and wrapped a boa around blaise’s neck.
“no fair! i want one!”
“there’s a whole lot more in the boxes we found, hurry up and we’ll get you one.”
“didn’t think to include me, then?”
“those have to be at least 60 years old.”
“jesus enz, what kinda parties did your dad used to throw?”
he flopped on the bed, a dust cloud emerging from the jacket, causing you to cough and wave your hand through the air. “no clue,” he leaned closer to you, showing his wrist, “but look at this fancy watch i found.”
it looked as old as time.
“no doubt you’re sweating enough for all of us in those?” draco leaned on the doorframe.
“would be unnatural if we weren’t.”
pansy walked to the armoire, and shuffled her hanging clothes along until she found what she was looking for: a silk black dress. she picked the hanger off the rack and walked it over the french doors, putting on the doorframe. she turned to everyone’s eyes on her and shrugged, “might as well.”
-
playing dress up was always fun, especially when all the glamour was real. watches and diamonds, boas and silks.
the dining hall was lit, wall to expansive wall with candles. the curtains up high drawn back, displaying the rising moon. the long table in the center was decorated with the most gorgeous grand arrangement.
the house elves had absolutely outdone themselves, platters of food spanning each end of the table. and though you didn’t see much of them, you made a mental note to seek at least one out and thank them.
after more digging around and even a trip to the attic, which made you consider taking a second shower of the day, you had found the best box of all; charles berkshire’s record collection. bowie, zeppelin, beatles, queen - it was a 60s/70s wet dream. so for the first time in what must’ve been years, the gramophone record player of the dining hall was to be put to use.
with everyone now standing at their respective seats, prosecco was to be poured.
mattheo, who sat on the right head of the table, was the one to open it; he always was. his naturally mischievous smile was one to be admired, especially when each of you wore the same one. with a big POP! he went around and filled everyone’s flutes - although you all cheered, the night hadn’t started just yet.
each with your drinks, lorenzo danced over to the record player and placed the needle down. a night at the opera began. he slowly turned to face you all once again, raising his glass and walking back to his seat, the left head of the table. all other glasses were then raised high, and his role as host was to be fulfilled, “live forever!”
“live forever!” you chorused, arms extending closer to each other before cheers erupted once again, louder this time, accompanying the crescendo of death on two legs. cups were brought to mouths, and taking your first sip you could’ve sworn you recognized that phrase, somewhere in the deep recesses of your mind, but couldn’t seem to place it.
pulling chairs forward, everyone was sat. looking around, under the immense candle light their faces had a new glow, one that filled you with an unexplainable excitement. the night had begun.
the feast was lovely, you all agreed it must’ve been the best you’d ever had. though you could’ve just been drunk and hungry.
“this is the best food i’ve ever tasted.”
“best.” emphasized lorenzo.
mattheo covered his mouth, still chewing, “never been better.”
this conversation happened multiple times since you had started eating. each time blaise ended it by saying, “god we sound like our parents.”
the room smelled like the extravagant parties back home, the boys smoking their macanudo’s - inspirado black’s, they swore by - leaving strong cigar smoke lingering above you. pansy had drank enough to pull out her cigarettes, and one was passed around the table. your glass was bottomless, literally, allowing your feeling of weightlessness to continue.
the conversations around were indecipherable, you just sat picking at whatever food was left on your plate, intent on listening to the music in the background. the record player was enchanted, never needing for someone to get up and change the record; once the needle was down, and an album was over, a new one would take its place.
you took another sip of whatever it was in your glass, listening to the end of some song, what was going to play next didn’t even cross your mind until the beginning chords of a new one rang out. standing up suddenly, causing your drink to slightly spill on the hard wood, you gasped, “this SONG.”
your arm immediately shot out to pansy, who looked up at you mid-drag and smiled. you couldn’t even remember what song it was or where you had heard it before but you knew it was imperative to give it its own moment. meeting each other halfway, arms waiting for the other person and giggling, your hands interlocked with hers.
dancing, spinning around, and laughing; you had never felt so blissfully unaware. or dizzy.
more bodies appeared around the two of you, but ones you knew well and invited with the most love one could feel for another person. blaise’s boa wrapped around him and draco as they danced and sang, theodore holding a bottle of champagne while mattheo bent lower to waterfall it, and enzo grabbing both yours and pansy’s hands to spin you simultaneously.
you weren’t sure who’s laugh was who’s, or what song was playing, who’s hand you were holding, or what drink was being poured, not like any of it mattered. once again you had entered a bubble, impenetrable from the outside world.
-
the library couch was the comfiest in the whole chateau. the fire had been crackling for some time, accompanied by lorenzo’s piano playing on the west wall. he was actually the best you’d ever heard, though he shyly kept his talent close to his chest - until the proper moments.
you watched the embers pop off the fire mindlessly, not thinking about anything in particular. a book sat in your lap but it had been forgotten long ago, your unfocused eyes unable to retain the words. they were however able to travel upwards to the painting on the mantle, for the first time you truly looked at it - it was a group of people, slightly older than yourself. you immediately recognized lorenzo’s father, although here he was more handsome, his son certainly took after him. searching farther you spotted a woman, and after some staring you deduced it was bellatrix, her cheekbones being the exact same as mattheo and enzo. she truly was beautiful, regardless of the sinister look she was giving through the paint. you couldn’t make out the others, though you noted a boy, who was definitely younger than the rest, with curls that fit his face well and a solemn expression that carried a worlds worth of weight.
mattheo and draco sat on the rug, silently playing chess. they had become more and more fond of muggle chess as the summer went on.
pansy was sprawled out on the lounge chair to your right, the spaghetti straps of her dress daring to slip off her shoulders. her eyes were closed as she hummed - incorrectly - to the piano. she hung her head over the edge, causing her bangs to fall off her face, and her now open green eyes found yours. your smiles matched each other.
blaise, who was seated next to you on the couch, had his legs resting on the ottoman. he was holding a letter from his mother that had arrived a couple days ago, just now finding the time to read it. theodore was in the opposing lounge chair, eating the chocolates that accompanied the letter. she had sent them just for him - his favorites from honeydukes he had sorely missed. he watched mattheo and draco’s game intently.
“play that last one again.” you had called out to enzo.
he scooted his chair and looked over his shoulder, “liebestraum no. 3?”
“sure.”
“you like liszt?”
you paused, turning to face him and furrowing your brows in obvious confusion, before replying to the best of your ability, “…i like you?”
he gave a smile that was only reserved for you. liebestraum no. 3 began again.
you slumped down on your side, your feet now hitting blaise’s clothed thigh, he gave a tap to your ankle, indicating recognition but not taking his eyes off the letter. with your ear now against the armrest, your breathing slowed.
you focused on every sound. the chess pieces gliding across the wood board followed by draco’s or mattheo’s huffs of concentration, the faraway wind chime carrying in through the open window, lorenzo playing that piece you had grown to love in the last few minutes, the pops of fire, pansy’s subtle soft humming, and the crinkle of the papers blaise held.
your eyes closed, whether voluntarily or not you weren’t sure, but you didn’t fight it. overwhelming comfort and content had taken you, warmth from all over allowing absolute relaxation.
-
“hey… hey, wake up.”
“y/n… y/n…”
the harsh nudge of your arm made you open your eyes. squinting up, you could make out blaise and theodore. you, unintentionally, matched their tone by whispering back to them, “what?”
“wake up, we’re going for a swim.” blaise flashed you the same smile from the morning, it was so genuine even your groggy mind thought of how you’d never know anyone else with one like that. theo had moved on to wake pansy.
draco’s voice came from behind the couch, “she awake?” before an answer came he peered over from above and your eyes met, “lovely. now get pans and let’s go.”
sitting up and looking around you finally realized why everything looked different - the fire had gone out. now the only light was the full moon shining through the windows. the room was coated in silver.
you rubbed your eyes harshly to adjust and looked over to see pansy doing the same, “what do you want again?” her voice was raspy and tired.
“swimming.” you answered, standing up with the help of blaise’s hand. once to your feet you realized you were still in your dinner attire, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. you stuck an arm out to her. grasping it and standing, she opened her eyes wide and blinked rapidly. her voice was abruptly normal again, “well c’mon then.”
the boys were close behind the two of you, exiting the library. the entire manor was the same coloring of silver and blue. any other place and you would’ve been creeped out and uneasy, but in this place with these people, you could never feel anything other than safe.
going your separate ways from them to change, you and pansy walked the corridors, chatting nonsensically.
entering your room, you undressed quickly, happy to get the confining dress clothes from what seemed like hours ago, off of your body. you picked a bathing suit from drawers, tossing one to pansy too, who couldn’t be bothered to go to her room. both of you helped the other tie their suit.
voices in the hall approached your door, before a series of knocks. you both called back, “yeah?”
draco’s head peered in cautiously, before noticing you both were clothed, then opening the door fully to reveal the others. he held his arm up, “we’ve got towels, come on.”
all the boys said some iteration of come on and let’s go, eager to get out. rushing, you both were handed towels. excited chatter overtook the group, voices echoing and bouncing off the expansive walls. lorenzo appeared suddenly from the back, running, and yelling at the top of his lungs.
this triggered a domino effect, everyone was now chasing each other down the halls. something in the back of your mind told you to look around, and when you did, it seemed as though childhood had come back. playing games and having races with the same people that ran beside you now. watching their faces as they passed you saw summers long gone, of late night swims and early sun-basking mornings, dress up dinners and quiet library lounging. you ran and ran and ran.
your bare feet hit the concrete of the patio before hitting the dewy grass. though night, it was still warm, humidity latched to your skin. you had joined hands with blaise, a silent agreement. the moonlight illuminated the pond, beckoning you to come forward. it was just a ways away.
lorenzo had made it first, his shout as he jumped in rattling everything in a 10 mile radius. for the rest of the summer he would go on to say that he had to have made the world record for largest splash.
mattheo was close behind, so close in fact you thought he might land on enzo’s head, though he resurfaced just in time to watch him jump in and moved out of the way.
you and blaise were next, hand-in-hand again, running off the dock, your screams silenced by the water. cold consumed your entire body for the first time in months. it was relieving to have your body soaked in something other than sunscreen or sweat. feeling the last of your friends enter after you, you opened your eyes and found them. swimming to each other, you grazed skin as if to say even in water, i’m right by your side. if you didn’t need air, you would’ve considered staying down there forever.
breaching the surface and taking a deep breath, you brushed all the hair out of your face. you looked around to find some with droplets combing through from their hair to their eyelashes, and others with water slicked-back hair. each was breathing as heavily as you, half from having to catch their breath, half from pure exhilaration.
water splashed from all directions, making you squint and do the same. you weren’t sure who was splashing you for the fun of it and who was splashing you because you had splashed them. yelps and laughs were echoing off the surrounding trees. the plants were drinking well tonight.
“let’s play chicken!” someone had shouted over all the noise. cheers of agreement erupted from the chorus and subsequently the excessive pushing of water was halted.
you had fond memories of chicken. it used to be the boys on the girls shoulders, back when they all were still shorter than pansy and you. but now they were taller and had built quidditch bodies. as much as you believed in yourself, you didn’t desire feeling a draco sized weight on your shoulders.
“girls versus boys!” you announced.
theo shrugged, “not much of a competition.”
blaise took him by the shoulder, “ay, beware of the black haired one, she likes to go for the eyes.”
it was decided you and pansy versus theodore and lorenzo. they were a great duo, the two of them were the beaters on the quidditch team. they surely knew how to work together.
theo stood behind enzo, waiting for him to dip underwater.
“oi try not to pull the hair, i’ve got a sensitive scalp.” enzo reached a hand up and combed the back his head. theo looked like he was going to say something, before just shaking his head and sighing, “m’sure i’ll manage.”
a countdown from three began, then hitting one, you and lorenzo went under. water engrossed your entirety once more. feeling pansys hand upon your shoulder for balance, then her leg, you held on. within less than a few seconds she was securely on and you rose. you took a big breath once again, pushing your hair out of your face. the boys were in sync with you.
almost immediately pansy and theo were at each others throats. their arms went up, interlocking, and their bodies casted a shadow on lorenzo and you. it was like a tiny pocket. shouts came from beside you; blaise, mattheo, and draco each yelling out what could’ve been tips but when shouting over each other it really just sounded like a bunch of nothing. you were pretty sure whatever they were saying was going to be unhelpful anyways.
between keeping your balance, trying to push enzo, and still treading, you were determined to win.
“ah! ow! STOP TRYING TO PUT YOUR FINGERS IN MY EYES I CANT SEE!”
pansy clearly was as well.
it suddenly hit you who you were up against. this was lorenzo, the single most ticklish person you’d ever know. you weren’t sure why you hadn’t thought of it earlier. with a mischievous smile and lots of trust that pansy could remain on your moving shoulders, you reached to his bare stomach and began prodding at him.
just as you expected, he started to freak out. “hey! HEY!” he laughed between his shouts, “STOP- STOP THAT! NOT- FAIR!”
the boys on side were having a field day.
“ENZ!”
“I CANT-”
“DONT YOU DARE DROP ME.”
and with a strong push from pansy up top, and another prod to enzo’s side from you, both of their exclamation were stifled by gurgles of water.
pansy dived down, quickly coming up and hollering. cheers were shared all around, even from theo and enzo.
“let’s stick to quidditch.”
“agreed.”
in the midst of it all, you turned to face the house. it wasn’t foreign to any of you by any means, yet catching it in this moment you couldn’t help but feel amazed by its beauty. as if you were truly noticing it for the first time. it harbored your love within its stone. your love for this season, your love for this place, your love for these people. looking at the scene you saw your friends, you reached for them and they accepted, reaching for you. you heard their laughs, saw their smiles, and felt the same on yourself.
all in one breath you realized what lorenzo had said earlier was not just some toast; it was a definitive proclamation.
in this bubble of a world, you would live forever.
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mugentakeda · 5 months
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not even harvards top scientists could understand the complexities of the azula-iroh beef lore that i made up in my head
(silly bonus under the cut)
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637 notes · View notes
shawnxstyles · 1 year
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stupid
DATE: MARCH 27, 2023
summary: as a challenge, you try to get yourself out of handcuffs. eventually, you find yourself unsuccessful, leaving you confined to your bed. when your roommate harry sees your predicament, he can’t help but be a little turned on, especially when he notices that you are too.
song: invisible string- taylor swift
words: 5.8k
warnings: SMUT (f-receiving [fingering, bondage {handcuffs}], m-receiving [masturbation], praise kink, unprotected sex [coming inside], dirty talk), some pining, and language
note: a cheesy ass storyline but it still has me in a chokehold. also, i’m posting this at 3 am :D (sorry if the gif is all weird)
fratrry x college!reader (my favorite pairing 🤭)
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“Oh, fuck me.”
It was stupid—you were so stupid.
Your heart falls in a panic as you thrash around on your bed, trying to break the cuffs surrounding your wrists.
You got caught up in a video. Some stupid video you scrolled to on the internet that explained how to escape handcuffs in an emergency. With a Bobby pin. You watched the full thing out of curiosity and boredom, but then decided to try it.
Because why the hell not, right?
Who the hell has a Bobby pin in an emergency? You didn’t think about this part until after you were stuck.
You rummaged through your messy closet, searching for the cuffs. Luckily, you were a bit of a hoarder and kept mainly everything you bought. One year for Halloween you were a cop (basic, but cute), so of course you had handcuffs when you bought the outfit.
Huh, they’re way nicer than you remember.
Snatching the handcuffs, you sat back on your bed and rewatched the video again. The demonstrator was handcuffed to the leg of a table while the instructor showed the camera and directed the viewers. Once you felt confident enough, you were going to attempt it.
At this moment, you didn’t think twice about how stupid it might be.
You looked around your room for somewhere to practice. You didn’t want to use the table in the small dining room because it was crowded with stuff on it. Plus, you didn’t want your roommate, Harry, to walk through the door and see you doing another stupid thing you found on the internet.
The amount of times he’s caught you doing something strange is ridiculous. To anyone else, it would be embarrassing. But Harry is your best friend, who is able to keep up with your madness, and who you might maybe have a crush on. Okay fine, it was a big, fat, stupid crush.
90% of the time your internet attempts were some type of trick that ends in something breaking.
But this—this has got to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever attempted.
Your eyes circled around the entire room before you landed on your bedpost.
Stable. Unmoving. Bingo.
Reaching up and turning your head, you locked one of the cuffs to your wrist. Then you grab the small pin in the other hand. You loop the chain around the pole and cuff that hand. Facing the locked cuffs, you cramp your hand in a certain way that allows you to ram the pin into the lock hole. You twist it easily and free yourself from the cuffs.
You smirk to yourself at how easy it was. You decide to do it another time. And then another. You got confident with the movements, so you switched the pin to your non-dominant hand. It was slightly trickier, but you were still able to release yourself.
Knowing yourself, you wouldn’t stop until the challenge became a real challenge. So you decided to make it a little harder.
You made sure your body was facing forward, away from the post, before looping the chain around the wooden pole. You clicked the cuff on your left wrist, locking you to the post.
Now, you would try to unlock the cuffs blindly.
With the pin in your dominant hand, you try to maneuver it so it can reach the lock opening. You feel around with your fingers as much as they allow, trying to picture where the hole is. Thinking you felt it, you confidently jam the pin into it before twisting it.
However, your confidence failed you because you were too cocky. The pin slides through one of the chain links that you mistook for the lock hole and slips from your fingers. You let out a small gasp as it does, realizing what position you’ve gotten yourself into this time.
“Oh, fuck me.”
It was stupid—you were so stupid.
Your heart falls in a panic as you thrash around on your bed, trying to break the cuffs surrounding your wrists. Your eyes dodge around the room, trying to think of a solution. You notice the key to the cuffs lying tantalizingly on the bed. It was way too close for you to reach it with your foot, and you obviously couldn’t bend your head down to grab it.
There was only one thing you would do; wait for Harry to come home.
Harry presses a button on the treadmill, slowing down the conveyor belt beneath him. He huffs and puffs, trying to catch his breath. Even though he feels like he’s killing himself at the gym sometimes, he can’t help but love the feeling afterwards. That post-workout sensation that motivates him to get up and walk in the gym the next day. It was addicting to say the least.
As he steps off the treadmill, his phone begins to buzz. He looks down at the contact, feeling his heart buzz similarly at the name. He slips his finger across the glass, answering your FaceTime call.
“What’s up?” Harry answers the phone, holding it up so you could see his sweaty face while he stares at your ceiling. He packs up his bag and heads towards the locker rooms.
“I need help,” You shout, loudly enough so Harry could hear you from the phone, which was at the end of the bed. You had finally used some cells in your brain to use Siri to FaceTime him. Harry scrunches his eyebrows and stands stucksill in the middle of the locker room. Without hesitation, he starts to head for the exit of the building, thinking you’re in some type of life-threatening emergency.
“What? Are you okay?” Harry speaks anxiously as he reaches his car and turns the engine on.
“I’m fine! I’m fine! I just need you to…help me out,” You reassure hastingly with a grunt, continuing to thrash around as if that’s going to work.
It hasn’t for the past half hour.
Harry’s heart calms down a few beats, since your life clearly isn’t threatened. He hears the clanging of the metal to the wood.
“What’s that noise?” He questions, scrunching his nose.
“It’s, um, me,” You squeak vaguely. It was so embarrassing that the words couldn’t even leave your mouth without a cringe rolling through your body.
In a flashing moment, the pieces finally clicked in Harry’s head.
“You did another challenge again, didn’t you?” You stayed silent, too stubborn to admit that he was right and that you were stupid. He knew you well enough to know that your silence meant he was right, so he scoffed and groaned before hanging up the phone.
After parking in his usual spot, he grabs his gym bag and heads for your shared apartment. He trudges up the stairs, his legs brutally sore after today. Harry fumbles with the keys until he unlocks the door. When he walks in, he instantly hears you shouting his name in relief.
“Harry! Oh my god!” Harry knew it was wrong to be thinking the way he was thinking, but he couldn’t help it.
He imagined those words as moans spewing from your mouth as you lie underneath him. He envisioned fucking you deep and slow so you’d feel every inch of him. If he lingered on the idea long enough, he could imagine the depth of your cunt as he sinks into it, all wet and snug around his cock. Your hands would pull on his hair as he said the most sinful things to you. Some nights he had to conjure this type of fantasy to relieve himself, and he felt selfish every time.
He couldn’t believe that he was turned on simply from your voice.
God, he wanted you so bad.
Throwing his gym bag on the messy table, he heads for your room and discards his thoughts. The door is wide open, and before he even gets inside, he’s facing your predicament.
Your arms are raised above your head while your wrists remain trapped in metal confinements. Your body was slumped, probably tired from trying to escape. Your chest rises up and down in frustration. He could sense the irritation radiating off of you. It was laughable. Very, very laughable.
But his mind wandered back to his thoughts from a few minutes ago when he imagined pounding into you. Now, in his new fantasy, you were cuffed to your bed. Just like you are now, you wouldn’t be able to have your hands in his hair, but he’d lower his head in between your legs this time. The thought—the sight— of you in those cuffs was about to send him in a spiral.
He was half hard.
“Fuck me,” He muttered, closing his eyes and inhaling sharply.
“Are you going to help me or just stand there and watch my misery?”
“I don’t know, I kind of like it,” Harry teased, being honest, but not in the way you probably thought.
You weren’t the type for one-night stands. But when he saw you bring home the person you were dating (at the time), some deep, unwanted feeling burned in his stomach. Harry eventually labeled the feeling as hatred; he hated everyone you brought home, no matter how nice they were in the morning aftermath. You and Harry got too close, too friendly for anything like that to be allowed.
So, he would invite girls over because he realized he couldn’t have you. And eventually that created a cycle he couldn’t break because, again, he couldn’t have you. He couldn’t break it without you. No amount of girls or any other girls made him feel the way you made him feel.
He thought whatever he was feeling for you made him weak, but it really made him stronger, better.
Now, he stood a few feet from your bed, arms crossed in amusement. He hopes that if he joked enough you wouldn’t notice the bulge growing in his gym shorts.
You felt a rush of heat creep up your neck at his words. Although he can be sweet and soft, Harry was as much of a frat boy as the rest of them. He talked women up and brought them back to his room with his panty-melting smirk. You couldn’t help but envy them every time you heard the noises they made, knowing that Harry was the one causing them. Your stupid crush and hormonal body made his words sound like some sexual innuendo, but you knew Harry wouldn’t truly have any intentions behind it.
So what if he makes flirty, teasing comments that make your stomach drop and your heart race a million miles an hour? They weren’t intentional and he does it with everyone.
“Like it? Kinky shit,” You mumbled to yourself as your neck burns up, but of course Harry wasn’t going to let that slide. He was going to have a little fun with it.
“What did you say?” Harry leaned towards you with his ear, now wandering closer to your bed. You glared at him in irritation.
“Nothing. Just open the cuffs!” You said, ignoring him without making eye contact.
“No, I don’t think I will. This is quite fun actually,” He crosses his arms and smugly smiles, teetering on his feet. He should have left by now to take care of his erection that’s pulsing in his shorts, but he’s having too much fun. This is truly one of the stupidest things you’ve done. You roll your eyes as you wriggle your wrists pathetically, attempting a lost cause. Harry laughs, clearly enjoying your misery.
“Do you get off on this or something?”
“Maybe,” Harry shrugs. You don’t know why, but your heart skipped a beat and your neck continued to be aflame. The slight thought that Harry might be attracted to you, even if it was you at your mercy, caught you off guard. Slightly. “You have to admit it’s a little arousing.”
Your heart rate increases as he steps closer to you, eyes doe-y and wide as you take in the view. Every comeback or quick wit washes away from you.
“Is it?” He asks.
“Is it what?” You try to focus on the conversation, but it’s hard when his post-workout body is standing only inches away from you. In any other scenario, you would have pushed him away or brushed off his comment. But you can’t run away this time. Instead of looking at him, you stare at some spot on the floor.
“Is it arousing for you? To be all helpless and needy?” His voice is taunting. His words caused your cunt to instinctively clench, making your thighs do the same. His eyesight peered at your legs for a moment, hopefully not noticing the action.
“No,” You lied straight through your teeth. Your hands turned into fists as you dug your nails into your palms, trying to keep it together.
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes,” No.
“I don’t like liars, Y/N,” Harry raises his eyebrows in a hurtful way and then slowly starts backing away. You shake your head in confusion as he heads for the door. “Now, I’m going to take a shower. I’ll be back.”
“Harry Edward Styles, do not leave me here!” You shout as you squirm for the millionth time. But he leaves and walks out of the room. He purposefully leaves the door open and heads down the hall into your shared bathroom.
Harry had a plan. If you weren’t willingly going to tell him you were aroused, which it was very obvious that you are, he would tease you. It was his greatest strength.
After turning on the shower and stripping from his clothes, he purposefully leaves his door open too, so you can hear everything. Once he gets in, he doesn’t hesitate to take his aching erection in his palm. He strokes his length as his body gets lathered in water.
Pictures of you with the cuffs appear in his head; helpless, needy, and vulnerable, just like he said. Based on your reactions, he could tell you were turned on by something and Harry was sure to crack you. He’s been waiting for this moment for a long time. Now, all he has to do is not fuck up.
He imagines you squirming underneath him as he rubs your clit, desperate for relief and freedom from the confinements.
“Harry!” You called out, but it was hopeless. You could hear him in the shower, taunting you. Your mind went straight to the image of his naked body and pictured it above you. You’ve never even seen him fully naked, but just the thought of it aroused you even more.
His strokes became faster as you shouted, rubbing his thumb over his leaking slit. In his mind, he translated them as moans of his name, which motivated him to pump brisker.
“Fuck, Y/N,” He groaned loud, for once hoping you heard him.
His balls tighten as another fantasy explores his mind: you on your knees, cuffs behind your back, as you suck his cock. Your eyes peering up at him innocently with tears brimming your ducts would send him into a lustful frenzy. He moaned noisily, his sounds bouncing off the tiled walls and down the hall.
You could hear everything. Including the way his name groggily fell from his lips in that sultry voice you only heard in dreams. Your panties dampened with each loud groan, forcing you to bend your knees toward your chest and rub them together to stop the nearly painful ache.
It was so unfair.
“I’m gonna come, angel,” He nearly whined as his palm slammed on the shower wall, fist pumping fiercely to reach his orgasm. The name slipped from his mouth, but it fit you perfectly.
A small whimper elicited from your lips at his noises, your legs crossing together in agony. You controlled yourself to not roll your hips in the air, because that was rock-bottom level pathetic, no matter how badly you needed him. This was torture.
His knees nearly buckled when his orgasm hit him hard, his balls squeezing and shaft twitching. Spurts of his release paint the walls that are soon washed away by the water as he calms himself down. With breathy sounds and dazed movements, he completes the rest of his shower before turning the water off and wrapping a towel around his waist.
He barely wastes time drying off before waltzing back into your room. Staring at your helpless figure caused a familiar ache in his cock, even though he just had an orgasm. He was insatiable when it came to you apparently.
Your eyes shot daggers at Harry, freshly showered and smelling like some woodsy soap that only reminded you of him. A white towel hung low around his waist and water droplets stuck to his body like he was straight out of a rom-com film. The burning in your lower belly and the pulsing between your legs never ceased. Your chest was rising quicker than it should have for being chained to the bed.
“Something you want to say?” Harry taunted with that smug smirk plastered on his face, slowly padding towards your bed.
His eyes pierced into yours, trying to force you into admitting. He sat on the edge of your bed beside your bare legs with the towel daring to slip off. Your head told you to not fall for his longing gaze while your body begged you to submit.
Your logic could only take you so far with the overpowerment of your body.
“No,” You replied with clenched teeth.
“No?”
He brought his hand to smooth over your shins, firing bolts of electricity straight to your clit. You involuntarily squeezed your thighs again to dull the ache, and you hated yourself for how obvious your arousal was. Harry slightly tilted his head condescendingly innocent, waiting for your response. But you tightly bit your bottom lip, refusing to say another word. You didn’t trust your next breath because if he kept touching you, you’d moan from just his hands on your knees.
“Hypothetically,” You didn’t like where this was going. It was scary, out-of-the-friend-zone territory. “If I were to check, you’re saying you wouldn’t be wet at all?”
You bit on your tongue. Hard. Harry shouldn’t be allowed to say the word “wet” in his deep, post-orgasm voice. When he touches you, you shouldn’t cave so easily.
Why did you have to like him? Your best friend and your roommate? That’s setting yourself up for failure.
Being the stubborn person that you are, you still continued to play snarky, even if you were soaking so much in your panties that you might be leaking through your shorts. “Not a single drop.”
“So you wouldn’t mind if I jus’ took a look, right? I know you jus’ love being right,” His hands rub along your legs until they’re on your knees and lower thighs.
He’s not wrong, and you hate that. Why does he have to make everything so difficult? He could simply just unlock the cuffs and go back into his room like nothing happened. So why is he making such a big deal about it? Unless he…no way.
“Go right ahead,” You tried to sound confident, but you squeaked, heart beating rapidly. Did he want this as much as you?
A sly smirk creeps onto his lips as his palms snake higher up your legs until they’re at the hem of your shorts. Your breath hitches in your throat, too afraid to make any noise because it might betray you. How does one act unaffected when they are very much affected?
“Gonna take these off now,” He narrates, and then slowly slides off your shorts. You didn’t breathe, just watched it happen. Your heart was running a marathon in your chest, and you thought you might go into cardiac arrest. With your shorts now on the floor, your legs remain closed. You know that the second you open them you will be proven wrong.
Harry’s fingers sneak in between your thighs and practically pry them open, your right leg hanging off the bed. You gasp at the sudden vulnerability and sharply turn your head in embarrassment. You can feel his smirk and piercing eyes burn into your skin screaming “told you so” while he tsks, but he doesn’t openly say it. He caresses your upper thighs, so close to your panty line.
“Aw,” He says patronizingly when his hands pinch the sensitive skin of your thighs, causing you to subtly roll your hips toward him with a small yelp. “Helpless and needy.”
“Harry,” You tried to sound threatening, but it was breathy and quiet. “We…can’t.”
“Why not?” His reply was instant, almost too fast for you to register. His hand gripped your thigh, making you whimper shyly. You didn’t have a valid reason why you couldn’t.
The worst thing that would happen is that you would fall in love with him and he would leave you in the dust, just like every other one of his hook-ups. You didn’t want to be that to Harry. If you two did this, would everything you guys have built as friends just go to waste? Would you have to move out and find a new place?
“I don’t just want to be another one of your hook-ups. When I have sex, it means something to me,” Why did you always have to make it so difficult? God, you’ve wanted him for the longest time and you’re saying this? He’s just going to run away. He doesn’t want to deal with this shit.
“Y/N, I promise you’re not jus’ another one of those girls. If you knew what I was thinkin’...”
“What are you thinking?” You whispered. His fingers trail up to your panties and tickle the area of your mound. You gasp, as the pad of his thumb presses to your clit. It pulses and throbs beneath him, begging to be touched without the barrier of the thin fabric.
“Want to feel you wrapped ‘round me while I’m deep inside of you,” He informed gravely, eyes concentrated on his own fingers. You whimper again, pushing your hips into his touch. “Want to hear your sweet noises.”
“Oh,” You bite your lip harshly.
“Want to kiss you. Everywhere. Want to wake up and see you next to me. Want to come home to you in my bed, in my clothes.”
“Harry,” This time, his name fell from your lips as a delicate moan, endeared by his words. Your mind becomes hazy from everything; his touch, his voice, his words. You only need one thing now. “Please.”
That’s all he needed. He gradually slips off your panties until they’re joining your shorts on the floor. The air breezes over your drenched cunt, contrasting the burning of your skin. His thumb rubs over your bundle of nerves again, but this time you mewl at the bare contact.
“You’re soaked, angel,” Voice rough and deep, he grunts as his middle finger teases your wet folds. You buck into his hand, desperate for more. Harry’s lips curl into that familiar smirk before he slips his finger inside.
You moan noisily, not trying to remain quiet anymore. You didn’t care. His digit runs deep, nudging your G-spot. The deeper he went, the more your folds could feel his icy cold ring. You panted and wheezed embarrassingly when he slipped his ring finger inside. He pumps torturing slowly, making it possible for you to feel every detail of his skin sliding in and out of you. Your eyes roll back while your hips squirm under him. He glides his opposite hand beneath your T-shirt, thumbs caressing the underside of your breast.
“Harry, fuck,” Your stomach burned. Actually, everything burned. Your wrists struggled against the metal. Your muscles coiled tightly, alerting you that you were getting close. You weren’t surprised that he had you on the brink of an orgasm in a matter of a few minutes.
“Am I making you feel good, angel?” Lustful and sensual, Harry began to pump faster, realizing you were close. Your back arched toward him, seeking to be closer. You wanted to be melting into his skin because you were so attached to him.
“So good, H. I’m close,” You mewled as his thumb brushed over your pebbled nipple. He multi-tasked; his index finger and thumb twisted your aching nipple while his other hand curled deliciously inside of you. Your walls squeezed his digits and your legs began to spasm at the overwhelming sensations.
Not a second later, you felt a wave of relief flush over your body. Your heart thumped rapidly against your ribs and your face scrunched in undeniable pleasure. Harry’s movements slowed as he helped you ride out your unforgettable orgasm.
“You’re so pretty when you come, baby,” Harry compliments, still caressing your breast. You wearily smile, heat burning your skin from his words. He raises his fingers up to his own mouth and licks away your release. For some reason, you opened your mouth thinking he was going to put them in yours.
His eyebrows raise and that cocky smirk comes back before he’s laying his damp digits on your tongue. You suck, swirling your tongue erotically as he barely moves them. Your glossy eyes remain locked on his, never looking away.
“Fuck,” He mumbles before yanking them out of your mouth. His cock twitches impatiently under the towel, neglected. “Dirty girl, huh?” It was your turn to smirk now.
“Need to be inside of you,” He removes the towel and you nearly faint right there. Long and thick, his cock was pink and pulsing at the tip. Precum oozed from his slit and you had the urge to put him in your mouth just like his fingers had been. Harry’s eyes looked at you like he was hungry, and if he didn’t have you he would starve.
“H, what the hell,” You wheezed as he spread your legs wider apart and stroked his painful erection with his palm.
“What?” He questions, hissing as he looks at your soaking pussy again. He never wants to forget the sight of you fucking drenched for him. He’s wanted this too long and too much for this to be a simple one-time thing.
He knows that the second he enters you, you are his. No one else’s. He’s going to ruin you for every other man.
“You’re… huge. Where have you been hiding that thing?” Panting, you start to get nervous. Everything becomes so real. This wasn’t a part of your imagination or some fantasy you conjured up. Harry was really in front of you, and he just gave you a mind-blowing orgasm.
You force yourself to get out of your head and live in the moment for once.
Harry chuckles hoarsely, and leads his tip towards your entrance. His body hovers over yours, face cradling in your neck. “Fuck, my condoms are in my room–”
“I’m on birth control.”
“I–are y’sure? About this, I mean.”
“I’ve never been more ready,” You smile at him endearingly. If your hands were free, you would have stroked his cheek.
“And I’ve also never been so impatient–” Cutting you off, Harry finally slides into you a couple of inches. You both share a string of groans and moans at the completely bare contact. You were more snug around Harry than he’d imagined—he thought he was going to come on the spot. He’s barely halfway in and you already feel a stretch.
More arousal leaks from you while your walls throb around him. His lips press into the skin of your neck and you inhale that woodsy scent again like flavored oxygen. Like you need it to live. His damp hair tickles your neck while your chest moves rapidly with the beat of your heart. You wish you could lace your hands through it.
“I need you to move, H,” You whisper, so quietly that if he wasn’t so close to you he probably wouldn’t have heard.
Obeying your request, he pulls out almost all the way before sinking back into you. Most of his length is in you as he pumps leisurely. Harry grits his teeth as your walls flutter around him, clutching him like a goddamn vice. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He doesn’t want to ruin this by going too hard. He wants to savor this moment forever. He repeats the action a few times before you get frustratingly impatient.
“Harry, I need more. Please,” Your words of plead cause him to screw his eyes shut.
“I don’t want to hurt you, angel.”
“Big ego you got there,” You roll your eyes as you rock your hips towards his. “Fuck me like you hate me. Please.”
A wavering sigh falls from his lips before he yanks himself completely out of you. You thought for a moment that you scared him off, but then, his cock slams back into you. An echoing moan bounces off the walls of the room while he pounds roughly.
His pace is brutal and concentrated, the head of his dick repeatedly hitting that sensitive spot inside of you. Your pussy clenches him, never wanting to let him go. Harry bucks his hips, ramming into your cunt at a new angle. Out of instinct, you go to move your hands to touch him, but are painfully reminded that you can’t.
“I want to touch you,” You plead, thrashing your wrists within the metal cuffs.
“No,” Grunting, he thrusted impossibly deeper–he practically melted into you.
You groan while he lifts up your left leg to shift it. He moves strategically and briskly, his thrusts never falting. Your eyes spin to the back of your head while the world around you seems to fade away. The only things that existed were you and Harry. But even in this moment, you two felt like you were one. When his lips began littering soft, pinched kisses on your neck, you thought you were going to lose it.
“Oh my God, Harry,” You sighed, hazy in bliss. Every ridge and vein of his cock could be felt through each hearty thrust. His noises varied from deep growls and soft moans, and you swear with just his sounds you teetered closer to your second orgasm.
“So fuckin’ tight, angel,” His breath fanned over your neck that was being covered in his love bites. The noises that fell from your lips were uncontrollable; you didn’t care if your neighbors could hear and you didn’t care if they would send a complaint the next day.
“Kiss me, H,” He didn’t hesitate to listen. After months of waiting, his lips finally collided with yours.
Interlocking, your lips molded together like the perfect experiment. Your chemistry bubbled up and created a flame the color of ecstasy. A firework of emotions burst all around you. He never halts his movements, pumping barbarically in and out while his tongue explores your mouth. To kill you even more, his free hand slips down in between you both and rubs your throbbing clit with a brutal pace.
How does he know how, when, and where to hit?
You become overwhelmed with feeling; everything was so pleasant and blissful, even if the scene was unbelievably dirty, it just aroused you more. Even if it was too much, you somehow couldn’t get enough.
He mumbles profanities as you squeeze his shaft firmly because that familiar wave was so close. Just a few more thrusts…
“Killin’ me every time you do that, baby.”
“I’m gonna come. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” As you spoke, your muscles tightened and your legs wrapped around his torso, forcing him lower inside. He groans as you clenched around him again, orgasm finally releasing from you. Broken moans echo throughout the room as your high causes you to feel floaty. Your heart thumps in euphoria and overwhelming affection. Surrounded in a cloud of rapture, the only thing on your mind was to have him come inside of you.
Luckily, he wasn’t far behind. As he attempts to pull out, about to come, you whine and beg him to stay.
“Want me to come in you, hm? Who knew you were so dirty,” He taunts and you hum in response, simply just feeling him as you ride out your high. “Gonna be the death of me, angel.”
You jerked your hips forward, sensitive and squirmy, as his cock twitches. Before you know it, Harry is coating your walls with his release. Your eyes roll back for the hundredth time tonight, savoring the sensation of his ropes of cum. His heart pounds quickly like a galloping horse, still in denial of everything that just occurred.
Everything felt so surreal, you were positive that Harry had sent you into an oblivion. His strokes become sloppy as he tucks every last drop into your cunt, just like you wanted.
“H…” You don’t even know what to say. You were speechless. Harry literally fucked the words out of you.
“Are you okay?” Was his first question, his first words to you in the aftermath. Your heart swells for some odd reason, even though that is the bare minimum.
“Yes,” Was the only thing you could say in response. In a moment, you came to the realization that the bottom half of your body was naked. Your muscles jittered as you close your legs, covered in wetness.
“Y/N, I…” He wanted to tell you everything. Right now. There was no better moment than right now to tell you everything. Right?
But how does he say it?
You knew Harry was about to say something sentimental or serious. You knew when he was about to say something meaningful that it took him time to find the right words. That was one of the things you found most endearing and adorable about him. His next words were either going to break your heart or make you want to have sex again. Either way, you might cry.
“I feel fuckin’ stupid,” Okay, those were not the meaningful words you expected to come out of his mouth. Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “I feel fuckin’ stupid for you. Do y’know how hard it is to live with someone you feel so strongly about? It’s bloody crazy. You drive me insane, Y/N. I’ve waited so long for this thinking that if I had you once it would be enough. But I like you too much for this to be a one-time thing. I need more than this. I need you.”
Your mouth was wide open, shoulders slouching with your arms hanging. You were positive your arms had fallen asleep with the amount of time they’ve been hanging, but your heart was too full to care. That organ in your chest inflated with the admission he spoke. Those words might not have been as heartwarming or movie-like to other people, but to you, there was a strong, heartfelt passion that was real and true. You were surprised he cracked first. You surely thought it would be you.
“Harry, I–”
“If you don’t feel the same, I understand–”
“Goddamnit, Harry! Take these cuffs off of me so I can kiss you, you doof!”
i thought this was only going to be 2k, so you’re welcome <3
tags: @crybabyddl @tiaamberxx @alwaysclassyeagle @bisexual-desi @raajali3
crossed out= not able to tag
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jo-harrington · 2 months
Text
The Boy Is Mine (Jo's Edition)
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Summary: A romantic night in at the trailer. And a first date.
Word Count: 1.7k
Themes: First Date, Fluff, First Kiss, Teasing, Banter, Geekery
Notes: My submission for @carolmunson's The Boy Is Mine Writing Excercise. This was a fun one, and I know the idea was for it not to be an AU...I guess technically it isn't (although I definitely thought of my STFF Eddie who...well...it's fanfiction *wink* especially since we're not gonna see their first date in the story). Thank you for putting together a fun game Carol.
Tagging a few friends who I think would have some great additions to this prompt: @eddiemunsonbignaturals @undead-supernova @storiesbyrhi
You can find my masterlist here.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
---
Pizza? Delivered.
Twinkies? Vanilla frosting. Not Banana.
Trailer? Tidied.
Sheets? Changed.
There was a knock at the door and Eddie took a breath and held it as he stared at his bed.
"You're not gonna end up in here," he muttered to himself.
Ok but maybe you would. He could be hopeful. Maybe a kiss would lead to something else.
"No idiot. It's just a study date."
There was another knock and he turned on his heel and rushed for the door.
He paused at the last second--glanced around, ran his hands over the front of his t-shirt, and put the most casual smile on his face--before he opened the door.
And then there you were.
A backpack slung over your shoulder, 6-pack of Dr. Pepper hanging from your fingers, looking...hot effortlessly gorgeous...or at least he thought so.
"Hey," you greeted. "Sorry if I'm late."
"No," he shook his head quickly and shifted to the side to let you pass into the trailer. "Right on time sweetheart. Hope you like pepperoni."
Of course you did. It was your favorite.
"It's my favorite."
Eddie clenched his fist in victory as he shut the door and then stood back and watched indulgently as you took in the wonders of the place he called home. He committed it all to memory; the way your eyes lingered on Wayne's collection of mugs and hats from over the years, or your nose scrunched up cutely at the sight of family pictures on a shelf--
Please god, don't see the picture of him missing his two front teeth.
--or the way it scrunched further, more in annoyance than fondness, and your eyebrow quirked at the stack of video tapes beside the television.
Shit.
"Uh," he cleared his throat and swooped in, arm hovering around your shoulders as he led you to the couch where the pizza and his history homework waited. His hand drifted to yours so he could grab the sodas. "Lemme put this in the fridge so it gets cold. I have Mountain Dew...or beer, if you want one."
"Mountain Dew's fine."
"As you wish," he bowed and you giggled. He cursed himself as he headed to the kitchen.
What a fucking nerd--
"So you read the Princess Bride?" you called out to him.
"Y-yes."
"It's one of my favorite books! A story within a story and all of that. And it can be critical of itself. It's perfect!"
Eddie's heart soared.
The two of you went back and forth for a few minutes discussing the merits of the book and the way it provided so much suspense and adventure and escapism; something it seemed, and Eddie wasn't surprised to find, you both had needed throughout your relatively-young lives.
Before long, he shuffled out of the kitchen with two cans and two solo cups to find you comfortably settled on the couch with your legs criss-crossed and a throw pillow settled in your lap. You looked right at home, at ease with him, and he had to say...he liked that sight quite a bit.
"I ran out of like, nice cups," he changed the subject so he wouldn't focus too much on how much he enjoyed the sight. "Hope this is okay."
"Ok, well what are the nice cups?" you narrowed your eyes at him playfully. "Because I see plenty of nice cups right in front of us, Mister."
You gestured at the shelves lined with mugs and Eddie couldn't help but roll his eyes at you.
"Those aren't nice cups Madam," he scoffed. "Those are family heirlooms. The nice cups are the Star Wars: Return of the Jedi glasses I got from Burger King. Obviously."
"Well excuse me," you straightened in your seat and rocked your shoulders back and forth haughtily. "The fine crystal."
"And don't you forget it."
"And here you are, presenting me with...plastic. Like a peasant."
"If you don't stop, we're gonna have a problem."
He held out the red solo cup filled with fluorescent green liquid and you snatched it from him with a quick flash of your tongue.
Then the two of you got right down to business: homework.
You pulled a small notebook from your backpack and then asked to see his notes from class so you could help him get a better idea of what was important for an upcoming quiz that he'd mentioned the day prior. He was ashamed to say he wasn't the best notetaker, but you pivoted easily as you flipped through a few pages and went from sparse notes about Civics and the US Constitution to long drawn out paragraphs about the Riders of Rohan and graphic descriptions of the Meduseld.
"Don't be like that," you scolded him. "That's not even true. What is this?"
"This?" He waved dismissively. "It's just...notes for Hellfire. Ahem...Hellfire Club...my Dungeons and Dragons club at school."
"Oh yeah?"
"Planning a one-shot for my buddy Jeff's birthday in a world where Theodred doesn't die and goes on to become...well...it's just nerd stuff."
Eddie sniffed and thought back to the many times that he'd been cut short trying to explain his ideas to others; even Ronnie got on his case when he got too into it.
How many times had she heard him get into an argument with himself over the benefits of Mithril vs. Adamantium?
"Excuse me," you looked at him expectantly, breaking through his thoughts. "Nerd stuff?"
"Yeah," he shrugged and let out a self-deprecating laugh. "Nerd stuff. We're supposed to be focusing on History."
"Ok, yes but..." you reached out and poked him in the the dimple in his cheek. "You didn't say in a 'we should just focus on history instead' way. You said it in a 'you don't want to hear about this' way."
"Well do you? Do you actually like that?""
"Did I not just tell you that Inigo Montoya is the real hero of Princess Bride and not Westley or Buttercup not five minutes ago?"
Eddie stared at you like a deer in the headlights.
Ok. You got him there.
But...but...God...old habits died hard.
How many times had people not given him the time of day when it came to silly little stories and make believe worlds? How many times had the people closest to him not even taken the time to listen?
He'd already been sold on the fact that you weren't just a dream; how could you be real and actually be his dream girl too?
God, it was too good to be true.
Eddie swallowed hard and centered himself back in reality. He was gonna have to salvage this moment before he made a real fool out of himself and asked you to marry him or something. That would be a little too strong for a first date...and a study date, at that.
He grumbled something under his breath.
"'Scuse me? What was that?" you leaned in closer to him.
"It was 10 minutes ago," he spoke up, staring at you matter-of-factly, a fiery challenge in his eyes to hide the fact that he was actively falling for you. "Actually."
You threw your head back in a laugh and slapped the back of your hand against his shoulder.
"You shithead," you cackled. "Ok fine. 10 minutes. Now. How about we actually study for 10 more minutes, and then you can tell me about this...Dungeons and Dragons while we eat ok?"
He happily agreed.
Towards the end of the night, pizza and sodas had been devoured, homework demolished, and Eddie actually felt like he had a shot at getting a decent grade on his next History quiz.
"Alright," he sighed and leaned against the back of the couch. "I think we're done here. A success if I do say so myself. I guess I'll keep you around."
"Keep me?" you quirked an eyebrow at him. "Uh huh, more like, will you please come back and help me study again?"
"Are..." Eddie scoffed. "Are you serious?"
"Yeah."
"You volunteered!"
"I volunteered for one study date."
"What, so a second one is out of the question?" he asked as he leaned forward and edged into your space.
"Well," you began with an expression that oozed contemplation in an exaggerated fashion. God, you were almost as dramatic as he was.
You were perfect.
"Well, if you're asking me for a second date, Edward? Then the answer is yes."
He clapped his hands together and laughed.
"Haha, see I knew that you couldn't get enough of--"
"But," you stopped him, and he stared, open-mouthed with words half-falling from his lips. "If you're asking me to come back to study? Well, then the second session is gonna cost you."
And he fell for it for a second. Just a split second. He thought that yeah it made sense if he wanted your help, he was gonna have to give something in return.
But then he saw the sly little smile that you were fighting to keep off your lips, saw the adorable little scrunch in your nose that he'd memorized earlier in the night, and the way your fingers fiddled on the couch cushion, as you slowly inched closer to him.
And he understood.
Oh...
"Oh yeah?" He narrowed his eyes at you in faux-suspicion. "Alright...name your price."
"It's not gonna be cheap," you insisted.
"I can pay anything."
"You sure about that?"
"Oh," he leaned closer to you now, volume and timber getting lower the closer he got. "I'm absolutely sure sweetheart."
You bit your lip slyly.
"I think fair market price...is a kiss."
"Just one?" he teased, lips absolutely within smooching distance from yours now.
"Maybe two."
You bit your lip to keep your smile at bay and Eddie had to stop himself from kissing you right then and there.
"Two?! Well," he sighed. "You drive a hard bargain. And who am I to pass up such a once-in-a-lifetime deal?"
"Just a nerd," you whispered against his lips.
"Just a nerd," he repeated, and then slotted his lips right against yours, ending your perfect first date with the perfect first kiss.
Just like on TV.
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