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miuszn · 1 year

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i’m actually so obsessed with your bouncer!ellie.. we need a fic immediately 🤭 -🪐

taste of lust

SETTING : modern au

WC : 5011

WARNINGS : sexual harassment ( nothing graphic ) ( but reader is sort of implied to have trauma related to it , nothing stated explicitly tho ) , bouncer!ellie x bottlegirl!reader , idk shit about clubs so like some stuff might be insanely inaccurate but i did my best to research ( sorry in advance ) , dash of dealer!ellie bc who doesn’t love her , dom!ellie , sub!reader , teasing , overstimulation if u squint , ellie calls u pretty girl & princess , readers first time with a strap , ellie refers to her strap as her cock , i’m not fluent in english yet so there might be mistakes , not beta read

A / N : hello everyoneeee !!! i know this took FOREVER to finish and i’m so sorry about that .. i’ve been super super busy and this fic was so long omg T_T there was a point i started over completely bc i didn’t like the direction it was heading to .. this fanfic shit gets serious truly . in case u missed the warning there is sexual harassment in this fic and reader is implied to have trauma related to it . putting this here again to make sure u guys see it . anyway , i took so long to post this and so much stuff happened !! but alas , it is here , the bottlegirl!reader and bouncer!ellie fic !! this is my fav fic of mine so far so i hope u guys enjoy reading this as much as i liked writing it <3 ( and yes there will be a part two !! )

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

being a bottle girl wasn’t exactly the job of your dreams. having to deal with creepy rich men every friday and saturday night was definitely not something you enjoyed doing, but that was what paid the bills and allowed you to live a rather comfy lifestyle for a college student. the bad part no one tells you about going to a top college on a full-ride scholarship is that a lot of the students are rich kids who most definitely cheated their way through high school, who live in nice apartments paid for by their mommy and daddy, who use birkins and other designer brand bags as their school bags, who would never be caught dead eating at the cafeteria. of course, you felt out of place. you weren’t exactly poor, but your family definitely could never afford that kind of lifestyle.

you’re pretty. extremely pretty. and you knew you could use that to your advantage. so when you saw a new club in the city that was looking for bottle girls you immediately knew you had to apply. sure, you had to deal with a couple creepy customers every night and sometimes even had to remind them they’re not allowed to touch you, which was annoying. you also hated being seen as an object, and you knew that’s exactly how these men saw you, and what was even worse was those very unsettling “you remind me of my daughter” comments from older men since you were so young. but the money was the main thing you needed, and you were able to put up with all this because of the pay. although the salary itself is just enough to survive, most of your earnings were in tips, and you made good tips. with a little bit of flirting and pretending you were really into customers, you scored lots of tips in the hundreds and sometimes even thousands. that wasn’t really enough for you to be able to afford luxury items whenever you wanted, but you were able to treat yourself every once in a while and that was enough for you.

you and your coworker ellie are the only college students that worked at that club. she wasn’t a bottle girl, however, she was a bouncer. during busy nights the bouncers typically took turns being at the door, and the rest would be inside the club making sure everything was fine. she didn’t mind being inside, it meant she could steal glances at you. truth was, she was into you, and it was obvious. but you took it as her just wanting to get a reaction out of you. that’s what it seemed like. but you can’t lie, whenever she wasn’t looking, you’d stare back as discreetly as you could.

she was a little possessive over you, which you weren’t really aware of. whenever she saw you flirting with customers, she couldn’t deny she felt a little jealous. she of course knew you were just trying to get more tips. regardless, she still couldn’t stand seeing the way you twirled your hair, spoke in that sweet and flirty tone, and even sometimes gave them compliments, and the fact it wasn’t towards her. she wanted it to be her, and her only. she wanted you to be hers. but she never did anything aside from flirt with you a little every once in a while, because she was scared she’d make you uncomfortable.

ellie. where does one even begin to describe her? her strong arms, her short auburn hair she styled as a mullet or put in a half bun when she felt a little lazier, her mesmerizing green eyes. from the moment you laid eyes on her you found her extremely attractive, but you were too shy and didn’t know how to approach her. what’s funny is this is the total opposite of the character you put up for your customers, an extroverted, flirty girl. the thing with you is, you can flirt with people, but only when you’re not attracted to them. when you are, such as in cases like these, the main thing you do is avoid avoid avoid. you rarely had the opportunity to interact with each other, but when you did, you always felt she was trying to subtly flirt with you. it was the kind of flirting where it was hard to tell wether she was flirting with you or just being nice, so you simply took it as being nice because you didn’t think there was any possibility she could be into you. she was just out of your league. even if it was flirting, you didn’t know if she had any other intentions. so you decided to play it safe.

that night was different from the others. your boss informed you that there’d be a bachelor party tonight and surprise surprise, you’d be serving them. the thing about bachelor parties is they’re very demanding and their tips can vary a lot. and demanding in your vocabulary is basically a synonym for entitled. they’ll insist you sit down, have a drink with them, maybe even try to grope you or something. you were not happy about having to deal with them tonight, but your boss told you they were short-staffed tonight, so you’d simply have to suck it up.

the moment the group of about 15 men came in, ellie sensed something was wrong. she rejected about half of them at the entrance before being informed by her supervisor that it was a bachelor party. she didn’t really care. she knew they were up to no good.

“i really don’t think we should let ‘em in.” she crossed her arms.

“any good reason?” he asked, annoyed.

“something just feels.. off,” she whispered, “i dunno. feel like they’re up to no good.”

“i don’t pay you to do ‘vibe checks’ on people.”

“i still don’t think we should let ‘em in. feels like they have bad intentions. have you seen how they’ve been eyeing the rest of the female staff?”

“big deal, this is a night club,” he brushed her off. “that’s how men look at women in nightclubs, williams. suck it up.”

“that still doesn’t-“

“do you want to keep your job or not?” he snapped.

she sighed and rolled her eyes, defeated, and hesitantly let the group in. her eyes were glued on them until they sat down at a table, the feeling in her stomach worsening when she realized you’d be dealing with them. it was one thing for any of the other girls to have to deal with them, but for some reason, she found herself way more worried about you. you were newer to the job and a little younger than the other girls. she couldn’t bear the thought of someone possibly harming you, or taking advantage of you, or anything like that. she felt this strange desire to protect you, something she hadn’t really felt towards anyone before. she felt this way toward you, yet she barely knew anything about you.

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

tonight was going to be a long night. the moment those men sat down, you could immediately tell. you could tell by their piercing gazes, which you swore you could physically feel even though you weren’t looking at them, that you’d have to remind them several times they can look but not touch. you heard them whispering stuff to each other while looking at you and then laughing and hitting each other as if they were a group of teenagers. you took a deep breath, put on a smile, and finally went over to their table.

“hey boys,” you greeted with a flirty tone, “anything i can get you guys today?”

“yeah, a piece of that ass.” one of them said, while the rest laughed.

you faked a giggle, trying to do your best to handle this professionally, as you would with all the other annoying customers.

“anyway,” you continued, “do you guys have anything in mind? if not, you can take a look at the stuff we have over there at the bar.” you said, while pointing at the bar.

“we’ll need a moment, babygirl.” one of them replied, holding out his credit card.

you nodded, took the card, and quickly walked away. you absolutely hated that nickname. before you took this job, you didn’t really mind it. but when you started getting called it by basically every single customer you eventually grew to hate it. if you hadn’t been working, you at the very least would’ve given them a death stare or contemplated telling them off (even though you knew you’d never have the balls to do anything of the sort.)

after a couple of minutes, one of them whistled at you to get your attention. strike two. another thing you very much hated. now you were even being treated like an animal. who the hell do they think they are?

you walked over to them and plastered a fake smile on your face and asked if they were ready.

“we just wanted to know what you recommend. i’m sure you drink lots since, you know, you work here.”

some of them chuckled, and you didn’t really get what was funny. but you decided to not start anything and just answered the question.

“well, we have lots of options,” you responded, “we have many of the classics you can find anywhere else, and we also have some that are less common. we just got the louis xiii cognac which is very hard to find, so i’d recommend that one.”

“yeah? are you just saying that ‘cause it’s the most expensive?”

“if you want less pricey options, we have those too.” you replied, avoiding the question. of course you were suggesting it because it was the most expensive. that’s kinda your job. you’re supposed to make money.

“we can afford it.” one of them said.

“yeah, bring us that one.” another chimed in.

you smiled and nodded, walking away. gosh, you felt them draining any energy you had every second you spent near them. you carefully took the bottle and put it on your tray, and grabbed a few glasses and put them with the bottle. you made your way over to their table, placing their glasses in front of them one by one, and although you weren’t looking at any of them, you knew they all had their eyes glued on you. you tried your hardest to pour their drinks quickly enough so you could just get out of there, but not too quickly that they’ll notice. unfortunately for you, they caught onto what you were doing.

“why’re you pouring so fast, babygirl? you in a hurry?”

tonight was going to be a long night.

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

ellie couldn’t wait for her turn at the door to be over. she made sure to peek inside every chance she had, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t eyeing you. she couldn’t help it. she couldn’t stop looking at how the black shorts and black baby tee you wore hugged your body and showed off your figure, and she had never been more grateful for the existence of the uniform. but above looking at you because of how attractive you were, she wanted to make sure you were safe. she had dealt with lots of men like them before, and she wouldn’t hesitate to kick them out if things escalated even the slightest bit.

after a while, her supervisor dismissed her and told her to stay inside to make sure nobody was causing any trouble. of course, she went over to the area you were, since there was no one watching over that area and because you were there.

“why’re you pouring so fast, babygirl? you in a rush?” she overheard one of the men speaking to you, with a sort of entitled tone. if she hadn’t been paying attention before, she definitely was now. with the way they were acting, it seemed like they didn’t notice she was there. you were clearly uncomfortable, but tried to play it off, you didn’t want to cause trouble or provoke them. she watched closely as they kept offering you to sit down and drink with them, not listening to you no matter how many times you politely told them you’re not allowed. telling you to “just have one drink, it’s fine” and “no one will know” and they “won't tell your boss.” but your boss was not the only concern. the concern was you. you didn’t know these men, you didn’t know what they could do.

but suddenly, one of the guys sitting on the edge of the seat pulled you in by the hip and forcibly sat you down. in that moment, ellie immediately went over to the table and knew she had to step in.

“sir, you’re not allowed to put your hands on the employees. i’m gonna have to ask you and the rest of your party to step outside.” she said in a stern tone.

“she willingly sat down with us,” one of them lied, “she just wanted to have a drink. nothin’ wrong with tha-“

“i saw what happened. no point in lying. now please step outside before i have you forcibly removed from the premises.”

“yeah?” he stood up to face her. “you’re just a woman. what’re you gonna do? you can’t get all of us out of here.”

“sir, back down.” she warned.

“or what?”

she didn’t respond. instead, she punched him in the face, breaking his nose. a few of his friends stood up, but before they could do anything, some of the security had already gone over to the scene and stopped them, escorting them out as ellie went with you to the break room.

“you alright?” she asked, seeing how shaken up you were.

“i’m, uh, i’m fine. don’t worry.” you responded, sitting down on the couch, still uneasy from the experience. you hated people touching you without your consent, even something that was sort of minor like this. you were already uncomfortable, and this just made it even worse. you didn’t notice ellie had sat down next to you until she wrapped her arm around you and you melted in her embrace. you felt a little embarrassed at how comfortable you felt with a girl you’ve only had small talk with prior, but you were able to push that feeling away because in that moment, you didn’t care. the fact she hadn’t judged you and said “it’s part of the job” or something along those lines, let alone saying you were overreacting was enough to tell you that you could trust her.

“do you, uh, want me to drive you home?” she broke the silence.

“i can’t. i have to finish this shift.” you mumbled. “plus, my roommate has someone over tonight. i can’t go home right now.”

“then, if you want, we can go to my place,” she suggested, quickly adding on “but just so you don’t have to stay in this environment, i’m not trying to be creepy i promise,” because the last thing she wanted was for you to take it the wrong way and be uncomfortable.

“thanks, but, i still have to go back out there and finish my shift.”

she was a little sad. if it was up to her, she’d make you quit and happily support you. she made a lot of money for a college student, between working as a bouncer and dealing weed on the side. she had more than enough to support the both of you, but she’d never talk about anything of the sort out loud.

“i can speak to management for you,” she said, “i’m sure they’ll understand.”

you accepted hesitantly, the voice in the back of your mind telling you you’d just end up fired. but that didn’t matter to you in the moment. you had to get out of there. you couldn’t stand it anymore.

ellie guided you through the back door, making sure you wouldn’t have to face those men again, holding you by the wrist with just enough strength to make sure she wouldn’t let you go easily but not too hard so she wouldn’t make you uncomfortable. she opened her car door for you, waiting a couple seconds for you to get settled in in case you needed her help for whatever reason.

the car ride was short and silent. it wasn’t the awkward kind of silence, more so the kind of silence when there’s nothing to say. it was a comforting silence, a drastic contrast from the loud music in the club that had been blasting in your ears for the past 2 or so hours. you were looking out the window, watching the city lights and buildings as you passed them. ellie would be lying if she said she didn’t steal a few glances at you when you were looking away. she couldn’t help it, you were just so mesmerizingly beautiful she couldn’t help but look at you any chance she could.

when you finally arrived at her place, you were surprised to see she had a house and not an apartment. it wasn’t a big house, but it seemed like it could house about 3 people. you were about to ask about her roommates, but almost as if she read your mind, she said;

“sorry about the mess, i uh, i live alone, so. don’t usually have people over either.”

“it’s fine,” you shook your head, “i’m just grateful you let me come here.”

she noticed you sounded like you were in a better mood. “you feeling a little better now?”

you nodded. “yeah. i guess i just needed to get out of there.” you bit your lip in worry. “but now i don’t know what to do. i’m pretty sure i’ll end up getting fired after leaving like that.”

“after what happened to you? nah. it’s understandable,”

“are you sure? i-i mean, am i not supposed to let them know beforehand-“

“you’ll be fine, don’t worry.” she reassured you. “you’re sort of new, aren’t you?”

“not really. i’ve been working there for a couple months.”

“so you’re new. got it.”

you playfully rolled your eyes. “sure, let’s say that.”

she smiled. “anyway, you wanna do anything? or do you just wanna rest?”

“i guess we could watch a movie or something,” you suggested, “if you want, of course.” you were surprised at how bold you were. it wasn’t anything too bold, sure, but that’s only true for everyone else. for you, something like that, which others might think is minor, is sort of a big deal. not only were you at this girl’s house, but suggesting to watch a movie as well. you were a bit scared that might’ve been too much.

“yeah, sure,” she replied, “you into horror?”

“uhh.. not really..” you admitted.

“it’s fine, we can just watch something else.”

“no, no, it’s fine!” you insisted. it was, in fact, not fine. especially at this time, horror was not your thing. it wasn’t a huge fear of yours or anything, but you were a little embarrassed of the fact you still got scared while watching them, sometimes even got nightmares. but no way you’d admit that to her right there. you felt you were already being too much of a burden on her, so you’d just suck it up to not bother her any further.

a few moments later, you were both on her couch watching some random horror movie she had picked out. you didn’t even know what was going on in the plot, you were way too scared. you’d argue this was one of the scariest movies, scratch that, media in general you’ve ever seen. where did she even find this sort of stuff? ellie was full of surprises indeed.

you didn’t notice you had snuggled up to her, your head laying on her chest, from the fear. once you realized, your face turned red as you pulled away in embarrassment and mumbled some apologies as you moved away. to your surprise, she lightly tightened her grip of her arm she had wrapped around you (which you only now noticed as well), telling you with no need for words that it was fine, and you could stay that way. you didn’t really know how to react to that, but you stayed. something about her was so comforting. you barely knew her, yet you trusted her as if you’d known her all your life. it was a strange feeling. you’d been on multiple dates with the same person many times before yet you still felt more of a connection with your coworker who you had only spoken to a handful of times beforehand. you weren’t even paying attention to the movie anymore. your mind was too busy paying attention to the thoughts racing in your head to process what was going on in the screen about a meter in front of you. you had lots of questions, and the more that popped up in your head, the more your heartbeat sped up.

ellie could feel something was wrong. she lightly lifted up your chin to make you face her, locking eyes with you. she asked if it was because of what happened earlier. you felt like you should look away, but you couldn’t. something about her was just so mesmerizing. you lightly nodded, not wanting to admit all the thoughts in your mind at that moment. you looked into each other's eyes for a couple seconds, before she planted a soft kiss on your lips. it was the type of kiss that happened almost as a reflex, the type that you have almost no control over. you could feel her try to pull away after realizing what she did, but before she fully pulled away you pressed your lips against hers, pulling her in this time in a deeper kiss.

before you knew it, you were straddling her lap as she placed kisses on your neck, occasionally sucking on it softly and leaving light purple marks on your skin. you hadn’t realized how much it was turning you on until you started lightly rocking your hips back and forth, desperate to get any sort of friction. ellie realized what you were doing, and placed her hands on your waist, almost guiding your movement, causing you to let out a few soft moans and whimpers.

“ellie..” you whined.

“i know, baby, i know.”

she carefully lifted you off her lap and laid you down on the couch, hovering over you. she tugged on the hem of your shorts.

“let’s get these off.” she said, as she undid the button and slipped them off you with ease, revealing your soaked cotton panties. “cute,” she thought to herself.

“i’ve barely touched you n’ you’re already so wet,” she teased, rubbing your clit through the thin cloth causing you to moan softly.

after a moment, you started to whine, tired of her teasing.

“desperate, huh?”

you broke eye contact as you looked away in embarrassment. in the back of your mind, you couldn’t believe everything that was going on. you found it a little embarassing, hooking up with a coworker you had barely spoken to prior. but as you had been doing the whole night, you tried to push those thoughts to the back of your mind and focus on the moment.

“don’t feel ashamed, pretty girl.” she said, noticing you felt a little off. something about her caring but almost demanding tone was turning you on even more.

she carefully pulled your panties to the side, sliding two fingers in, thrusting them at a slower but steady pace. this was better, but it still wasn’t enough. you bucked your hips ever so slightly, to tell her you wanted more.

“you’re gonna have to try a little harder than that, baby,” she said. she knew exactly what you meant, but she wanted to hear you say it. you whined in complaint, hoping she wouldn’t make you say it out loud.

“use your words, princess,” she smirked while locking eyes with you.

“please, ellie..” you begged.

“please what?”

“please, more..”

“good girl,” she said under her breath, speeding up her pace and thrusting her fingers inside you twice as fast as she was before, causing you to moan and whimper louder. soon you started feeling a knot forming in your stomach, making you attempt to grip the couch.

“ellie.. fuck..” you moaned.

“i know, pretty. but you don’t get to cum yet.” she smirked, suddenly pulling her fingers out.

you whined at her words and the sudden emptiness inside you, as ellie softly chuckled at your reaction. she found it so cute. she found pretty much everything about you to be cute.

she stood up, and went to grab something from her closet. it was a bright purple strap, and it was quite big. you weren’t sure it would even fit inside you. you watched as she effortlessly took off her pants and put the harness on, walking back to the couch and positioning herself, the tip right in front of your entrance.

“i want you to cum from my cock.”

she started sliding it along your slit, coating it in your slick, causing you to whine a little, before positioning it once again in front of your entrance and slowly sliding the tip inside you easily.

you were still a little scared since you had never done anything like this before. you’ve gotten fingered before, sure, but this was the first time someone used a strap on you. especially one this big.

“ellie..”

“hm?”

“i’ve never, uh,” you stuttered, “done something like this.”

“never gotten fucked with a strap before, huh?” she said, “i could tell. you seem kinda nervous. but relax, princess, i’ll take care of you.”

the nickname only turned you on more. you didn’t get why you loved it so much. it had never crossed your mind, yet you were now sure it was your favorite pet name ever.

with that, she started slowly sliding it in, looking at your facial expressions to make sure she wasn’t hurting you. surprisingly, you were able to take it all. she started thrusting it at a slow pace, gradually speeding up, but not quite fast yet. she definitely wanted to fuck you way harder and faster, but she wanted you to get used to the feeling first.

after a few thrusts you started to get used to the feeling, and it was amazing. she sped up her pace a little more, gripping your thighs, and this time she was able to locate your sweet spot, and boy was she about to abuse it. she hit it with every thrust, making you twitch and moan at every wave of pleasure.

“good fuckin’ girl,” she praised, “already taking my cock so well.”

“ellie.. please..” you begged, between moans, “faster..”

“yeah? you sure you can handle it, tough girl?”

you nodded, and she immediately sped up. she fucked you a little faster than you expected, and it was a little too much, but the overwhelming pleasure was, at the same time, addicting. the sounds of your moans and whimpers, her groans, and your wet cunt filled the room. soon, that familiar knot in your stomach started forming again, except this time it was much more intense, causing you to try and grip the couch once again. she realized what was going on, and started using her thumb to rub circles on your clit. you started tearing up from the overstimulation which was the littlest bit painful but also overwhelmingly pleasurable.

“i wanna hear you say my name, baby,” she demanded, “i know you’re close.”

and almost on cue, you came all over her cock as you moaned her name, just as she demanded, as she fucked you through your orgasm and finally pulling out with a slight pop.

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

it had been about an hour since you finished your.. activity. she insisted on getting a bath started for you, and now there you were on her bed, in one of her t-shirts that was a little big on you, freshly out of the bath. you texted your roommate before getting in the bath to tell her you wouldn’t be coming home tonight, and of course, she didn’t mind that at all.

not only were you on ellie’s bed, but you were cuddling her, trying to sleep. she told you you didn’t have to, and that she just enjoys sleeping with body warmth, but you knew better. maybe it was true, but it sure as hell was not the only reason. but you didn’t mind. you acted stupid and like you bought her story, because truth is, you really wanted to cuddle with her, and you were even thinking of similar excuses if she hadn’t brought it up first.

“you awake?” ellie whispered.

“mhm, sort of.” you replied, in a sleepy voice.

“i just, uh,” she paused for a moment, “i just wanted to know. when will i see you again?”

“on our next shift together.” you joked.

“no, dummy, i mean like this.”

you thought about it for a moment.

“i guess we’ll see,” you responded softly, “i’m pretty sleepy. i think we should talk about this later.”

she seemed satisfied with your response, but she still had the fear you were only saying that to be polite, and you didn’t want anything more or didn’t want this to repeat. of course, she’d respect you if that was the case, although she’d be a little disappointed. but she felt there was something more there, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. you weren’t like any of the other girls she’s hooked up with before. she wasn’t exactly sure what set you apart from them, but she knew there had to be something.

maybe it was just feelings.

but even if it didn’t seem like that was the case because of your shy personality, you wanted something more. just like her.

#arielle writes ୨୧ #arielle’s 18+ ୨୧ #ellie williams x reader #🪐 anon #ellie williams #the last of us #ellie x reader #the last of us 2 #tlou #tlou 2 #tlou x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams hcs #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams smut

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gurugirl · 7 months

Text

Just For Tonight | Ch. 2

Series Summary: Harry spots an angel in the crowd and he can't keep his eyes off of her. And, as if by some cosmic pull, he can't help but ask her backstage. But it's only going to be just for tonight. Or is it?

Chapter Summary: Y/n's pretty sure she'll never see or hear from Harry again. They had a fun night but he made it clear that it was only just the once. Except Harry can't seem to follow his own rules.

Warning: 18+ only, smut

Word Count: 10,501

Commissioned by anon (thank you!! xoxo)

Just For Tonight Masterlist

Having a night with Harry Styles was like having one of those hot-girl secrets that only the most privileged were in on. But what that also meant was that she couldn’t really go talking all about it to everyone either.

She would have loved to have posted on Instagram all about it. Bragged about having seen his cock and then having it inside of her. She would have loved to have seen Dyna’s face when she told her that Harry Styles had eaten her out and spanked her. Dyna was one of those acquaintances in her friend group who was smug and pretty but rude. Thought her shit didn’t stink.

And well, she never would tell anyway. Not only would she never brag about what she’d done with someone during sex, but she wouldn’t want to betray anyone that way.

But it was kind of a bummer that she couldn’t talk about it all. Ady drilled her for information and Y/n had already decided that she’d only spill the details to her best friend, whom she could actually trust. Ady was a work friend at best. She trusted Ady, but not with that kind of secret.

All Ady knew was that Y/n had spent the night with Harry Styles. And when she arrived at the office on Monday morning, half of her co-workers had already heard about it.

“That’s why I didn’t give you details, Ady. You shouldn’t be saying anything to anyone.” Y/n replied as she bit into her sandwich. Ady was trying to extract more information from her.

“But I would never tell anyone those details, Y/n! Come on. Just give me something. Any tattoos we don’t know about? Is his dick as big as everyone thinks it is?”

Y/n rolled her eyes and stood up from her chair, tossing the crust of her sandwich into the garbage, and completely ignoring Ady on her way back to her desk.

After a few days, the gossip had died down and Ady had pretty much given up. Y/n was glad everyone had stopped talking about it and asking her uncomfortable questions.

And while on the outside it had appeared Y/n had moved on completely, on the inside she couldn’t stop replaying the night with Harry over and over again.

Especially when she was alone in her bedroom at night.

Y/n had a housemate. She lived in a two-bedroom bungalow with a microscopic backyard, street parking, and the tiniest closet known to man. And still, she could barely afford to make rent each month. But Brad was nice. And he allowed her to pay a little late sometimes. She didn’t often pay late. Maybe a handful of times over the year.

But it also helped that Brad had a bit of a crush on Y/n. She didn’t want to be that person but it came in handy in this case.

“I’m so sorry. I get paid next Friday and I’ll pay you first thing. Just didn’t keep track of my spending again this month.” It was slightly embarrassing. She wasn’t careless about how she spent her money but that month she had the Harry Styles concert, bought a hotel room (which she didn’t even sleep in), and spent a little extra on her cute new bodysuit. She had saved up her money but overspent just a tiny bit. Okay so maybe she was a little careless with her money at times. And she was getting too old to keep living paycheck to paycheck. It was time to start putting money away.

And she couldn’t do that with her current job and all the bills she had on top of that.

Y/n was going to have to find a second job. Anything so she could get her footing and pay off some loans, and then maybe she could breathe a little.

“No worries, Y/n. I’m good for it until then.” Brad smiled. She could tell he was getting tired of it, though. And for that alone, the embarrassment of having to ask if he could cover her part for a handful of days and to see his expression of pity and probably a little bit of annoyance, yeah. It was time to find a second job.

Her cousin was the floor manager at a posh, expensive restaurant downtown that Y/n would have never dreamed of stepping foot into. Not normally anyway. But there was a job opening for a server spot that her cousin had casually mentioned a week prior. She didn’t know if the position had been filled or not and if they would give her that prime weekend shift but there was only one way to find out.

“Y/n! Hi! How are you?” Laren answered chipper and sweet.

“Hi. Uh… good! How are you?”

Small talk commenced before Y/n finally got into the nitty gritty of why she was calling.

“Oh? The server position? It hasn’t been filled actually. We’ve been interviewing, though. You should come in and apply. I can put in a good word.”

The position was for two weekday nights and rotating a Sunday and Saturday every other week with a draw for the occasional Friday night (the coveted night to serve apparently). It wasn’t ideal but she figured she’d at least apply and see what happened.

Y/n had been a server in college so she was familiar with the work. It was hard, stressful at times, but tips could be good with the right tables.

And part of her didn’t want to waitress again. She was already working 40 hours at her office job. This would leave her with very little free time. But she needed to do something because every time she thought about how she was late on rent again it made her cringe and flush hot with embarrassment.

The interview process was fairly painless. And the fact that her cousin already worked there seemed to be in her favor because the very next afternoon she was getting a call to come back in to begin training. She’d gotten the position.

And it was just as hard as she imagined it would be. Shadowing one of the servers felt strange. She started on a Tuesday night since it would be a relatively slow night. Rushing from her office job to get home, changing into her uniform, and then racing through heavy traffic to get to the restaurant gave her a good idea of how it would be for her on the nights she worked during the weekdays.

Her past experience was a blessing. She only needed to shadow for two weeks before they started letting her have her own tables. Everyone on staff was easy to get along with on some level.

She did learn, though, that Vyra was upset that they were letting her take a weekend night shift so early on. Vyra was also a server who’d been at The Dulcería for a couple of years and wasn’t allowed weekend shifts until she’d been serving for a while.

“Tell them I’ll take your ten top tonight. I don’t think you’re quite ready for the level of service you’ll need to provide.” Vyra placed her tray down and faced Y/n as she spoke.

Y/n had just arrived at the restaurant for her first weekend evening shift by herself. She didn’t even know she had a ten top as she’d only just walked into the door.

“I… okay, well, let me at least put my stuff down. I’ll talk to Mannie and find out what he wants before I ask for that.” She was already annoyed. Not ready for the level of service… Just for that comment alone, Y/n was going to make sure she kept the table and was the best damn waitress that ten top could ever have that night.

“I’m telling you that it’s going to be better for you to just give me the table. We’ll switch off. They’re gonna be here all night.”

Y/n put her purse in the locker and turned to look at Vyra, “How do you know they’re gonna be here all night?”

“Because the reservation was very specific about how long they would be here. Probably someone famous honestly. Just tell Mannie you’re giving me your section.”

Sighing as she clicked the lock into place and tied her apron around her waist she shook her head, “We’ll see.”

Y/n checked the schedule for the night and realized, the only table that she was assigned was the ten top Vyra had mentioned. Which was interesting. Looking at the name on the reservation it didn’t ring any bells for her as to who could be in the party that would require her to stay with them all night but she knew she could take care of the table on her own. Even if they were famous and picky and maybe demanding. There were only ten of them. And it was her only table.

After the first two guests had arrived and were brought to the table by the hostess, Mannie signaled to her to greet them at the table and get some drinks started.

“You didn’t tell Mannie to let me take over. You didn’t even ask. I think it’s in your best int–“

“I’ve got it, Vrya. I appreciate your concern but I’m fine. Really,” she spoke as she neared the private area of the dining room where her table was.

“No. I don’t think you understand, Y/n. You’re new at this–“

Y/n stopped abruptly and Vrya nearly ran into her, “Stop. I’ve waited tables before. And Mannie wanted me to have this one. Just… go back to your tables and give it a rest.”

The pair at the table were dressed extremely casually, which was unusual for the restaurant. Most people entering the doors of The Dulcería wore designer and dressed appropriately in smart casual.

“Hi. I’m Y/n. I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Would you like me to get you started with anything? Wine for the table or appetizers for when everyone else starts to arrive?”

The young woman at the table ordered three bottles of wine to start and a handful of appetizers. Easy enough.

When Y/n returned to the private area with a cart full of wine and water she stopped in her tracks. More of the party had arrived but now she recognized two of them. She blinked her eyes and swallowed as she felt her heart rate pick up before pushing the cart forward again and closer to the table. She could be seeing things, she told herself.

As she neared the party she honed in on the man with his back to her with chocolate brown curls and broad shoulders. Was this…? It couldn’t be.

And yet she was sure it was. Based on the fact that she was looking right at Jeff Azoff and his adorable wife Glenne… She gulped as she parked the cart at the edge of the room and plucked up one of the bottles of red wine to uncork.

Carrying the bottle and a glass of wine toward the young woman who ordered it, she was suddenly aware that all eyes were on her as she turned the label side out toward her. But before she could pour a taste sample the young woman pointed at the man with his brown curls at the other end of the table, “It’s his to taste.”

She let out a quick breath to ground herself and closed her eyes for only a moment before turning to see those bright green eyes already on her. The big grin on his face told her he recognized her immediately. Of course he did.

She smiled, taking a step back, and slowly walked toward Harry to give him the first taste of the wine.

Pouring the liquid into the glass slowly as she stood to his left Harry finally spoke, “I didn’t know you worked here. How have you been?”

Okay. A standard greeting. Even that alone got her heart aflutter. She wasn’t sure if he’d act like he didn’t know her or if he’d greet her kindly. She would assume the latter but of course, one never knows in these circumstances.

“I’ve been well. This is actually a new job for me. And uh, how about you? How have you been?”

Harry sipped the wine and nodded, “S’good. Thank you. I’ll have a glass of this one,” he cleared his throat while she poured a serving for him, “And yeah… I’m great. Thank you. We should catch up soon,” he leaned in closer and finished his thought, “Kind of wish I’d gotten your number.” He spoke the last sentence a little softer so only she could hear.

For the duration of the dinner it was difficult to have any kind of real conversation with Harry while she was taking orders and running back and forth but each time she returned Harry made sure to get in a comment or ask her a question. She noticed the looks from a few of the people sitting around the table.

Heading back into the kitchen to grab their meals she noticed Vrya walking toward her side of the restaurant where the private dining room was. By then, all the servers heard about who was in the private dining room. Most didn’t make a fuss about it but a couple of them were curious.

With the tray loaded she delicately walked back toward her guests and spotted Vrya next to Harry and chatting. Technically Vyra wasn’t allowed to speak to guests at Y/n’s table unless she requested help. It wasn’t a big deal normally, but since Harry was a celebrity, a famous pop star, it would be frowned upon. This wasn’t some Deux Moi tell-all Sunday sightings gossip rag. This was a posh, upscale restaurant where wealthy people and celebrities came to enjoy a quiet meal without being disturbed or spotted. Mannie was not going to be happy about Vrya taking it upon herself to check on Y/n’s table. She couldn’t wait to talk to Laren about Vyra as well. She wished her cousin was there that night so she could vent but she’d be calling her about this later.

Placing the tray onto the stand Y/n frowned at Vrya as they made eye contact, “I was just seeing if everything was going well. Since you’re new and all,” Vrya laughed and looked down at Harry, “Plus having such a big star here we need to make sure service is perfect.”

Harry smiled at Y/n, “Y/n here been more than perfect. You’ve nothing to worry about. I’m sure we all agree,” he gestured toward everyone at the table, “we are in the most capable hands here. Couldn’t be happier.”

The fake smile on the intruder was telling as Y/n began to bring dishes around the table, “Thanks for checking in on me Vrya. It’s unnecessary, though. I’ll call on help if I need it.”

Standing up straight and nodding at Harry she walked behind Y/n and whispered, “His water glass is low,” and then exited the room.

Y/n had no idea what she’d done that would have Vyra acting like such a child. She was polite to Vrya but she really wanted to yank her hair out and shove her out the window for sticking her nose into business that wasn’t hers. But she figured she was better off ignoring the whole thing.

“So, Y/n…” one of the guys at the table spoke up, “We hear that you and Harry met at a recent concert. How did you enjoy the show?”

She felt her neck get hot as she fumbled with the notepad in her apron pocket, “Oh… it was awesome. Yeah. I gave him a pair of sunglasses that he wore that night on stage. That’s pretty much how we met. Brought a co-worker with me. A blast. It was the first concert I’ve been to.” She smiled and then quickly corrected, “First Harry Styles concert that is!”

The look on Harry’s face was cheeky. He was holding in an obvious grin on his face as he gazed at her. She was a nervous thing in this setting. Harry remembered quite well how sure of herself and confident she’d been that night. How she was practically dominating him, leading everything that happened. Mostly.

And even though he made it clear that what had happened was just for that night, he realized he’d been fantasizing about her a lot since then. In fact, every time he touched himself his thoughts made their way to Y/n just before he could come. He hadn’t even slept with anyone since. Not that he’d been holding out for her or anything. He had been thinking about her a lot, though. Missing her even. He was quite delighted that she was his server and that he happened to meet her once again. It felt like fate maybe.

And Harry was a big believer in fate and the universe shifting and creating space and paths for humanity. He was a believer in karma and destiny and intertwined lives. And so because of that Harry was sure this meant something.

When the restaurant was shut down and the servers were calling it a night, Y/n was clearing the table and refilling the last of the wine for everyone. She was told not to rush them, and she had no intention of doing so. She was enjoying the table. Everyone was polite and easy to please. There were no difficult requests or off-the-wall dietary restrictions.

Though Harry was particular with his order (the man was clearly eating strictly healthy which made sense given the state of his body, which she was quite acquainted with) it was easy to accommodate. Plus his presence had set her in a good mood. He was gentle and sweet and everyone in his party was the same.

And the way Harry kept looking at her, as if he knew something she didn’t somehow… a teasing grin, slightly stifled… she was all nerves and butterflies and big smiles. It had been an amazing night at work. It hardly felt like work at all.

Exiting the bathroom after a much-needed bladder release she walked up the hallway but was stopped short when she heard his voice, “What are you doing after you get off?”

His deep rasp had her tummy boiling as she turned and saw him leaning against the frame where the hallway met the corner of the entry to the kitchen. Stepping back toward him she looked up at his sharp green eyes and shook her head, “Going home.”

That smirk, the one that hid what he was really thinking deep down slowly widened until he was grinning full-on, “Where’s home?”

Looking behind her and then over his shoulder to make sure no one was nearby she squinted her eyes at him, “Why do you want to know?”

Harry sighed and softened his stance, putting his arms down to his sides, “Because. I was gonna ask a follow-up question and figured it might be important to know if my place is closer or yours.”

She let out a soft laugh in surprise and now her ears were growing warm, “At this hour… A fifteen-minute drive away.”

Harry nodded and reached a hand out to her apron, pulling gently at the bow, “Got it. Would you be interested in having me over tonight?”

Cocking her head and keeping her eyes squinted in scrutiny she responded, “And why would you want to come over to my place?”

She felt like this was obvious. She could have answered this question on her own. But she wanted to hear it from him. Wanted to be sure she was on the same page as him.

He leaned in and lowered his voice, keeping a finger looped into her apron’s bow, “Seeing you tonight has reminded me of how much fun we had. I know I said it was only a one-time thing but maybe we could make it a two-time thing,” he smiled broadly and shrugged.

Harry was a confident guy. He wasn’t typically turned down. In fact, on the rare occasion he was turned down it usually had nothing to do with him. So he was pretty sure Y/n would be happy to have him. But even as sure of himself as he felt, he was feeling his nerves peak at the idea she would say no.

“A two-time thing. Okay… well I do have a roommate. His bedroom is connected to the wall next to mine. Privacy is an issue. If you’re okay with that then I’d say… sure.”

Harry let out a laugh through his nose, though it was more out of relief than due to anything being funny, “What makes you think I want to be in your bedroom? Maybe I just wanted to stop by for a movie. Or we could bake cookies or something.”

Harry laughed at the obvious nonsense he’d just spewed. They both knew what this was.

“Oh? So you want to like watch a movie and bake some shit? I’m down with that. I don’t think I have the ingredients to make cookies or anything but I’m sure we could stop somewhere and grab flour–“

Harry pinched at her hip and stepped in close, “I was kidding…”

Now it was Y/n’s turn to laugh before she straightened her back as much as possible and put on a serious face. With his proximity, she was bent slightly back to look up at him, “You were? So you mean you don’t want to bake cookies with me?”

Harry’s grin and his hands at her hips were soft, “I don’t want to bake cookies with you. I want to get you in bed again.”

Well okay. There it was. She knew that’s what it was but to hear him say it out loud had her head spinning and her heart pounding.

She nodded, “Right. So… how do we do it? You want me to drive or…?”

Harry shook his head with a laugh, “Give me your number.”

. . .

Harry and his crew left before Y/n did. She’d given him her number and he texted her back right away. It was surreal. Just like how she felt the first time she met him. She almost didn’t believe it was happening.

Vyra was cold for the rest of the night but after the huge tip left, Y/n could understand why. Harry’s table had been her only table of the night. Her shift was only four hours but they stayed the entire time. She figured Vyra knew that some celebrities tipped well and wanted in on that.

In fact, the tip had been so big she had to sit down when she realized the number written in the tip line with a small smiley face next to it. She’d have a talk to Harry about this. It was far more than necessary. Even after splitting the tips up between the kitchen and the bussers in the system, it left her with enough money to cover rent and all her bills for a month. Yeah. Excessive.

She texted Harry the minute she parked her car in front of her house. It was well after midnight. She wasn’t sure he’d actually come, still in disbelief about it all. The fact that he was there and that she was assigned to that table felt like pure luck. Fate if you believed in that kind of thing. Which she didn’t. Not normally anyway.

His return text came back quickly.

On my way.

Quickly showering off her sweat and the smell of cooked food then shaving her legs she tried to calm herself down. The night with Harry in the hotel room she’d been perfectly groomed and ready for anything that might happen. Not that she expected it that night, but one never knows. Going to a Harry Styles concert and having the chance to catch his eye wasn’t something she’d half-ass. She never in a million years would have thought he’d have pointed her out while he was singing and then proceed to bring her back to his suite. But he did.

And this evening, she wasn’t fully groomed but smooth legs and clean bits were the least she could offer in such a short amount of time. She laughed to herself as she thought about it all. Wondered if he’d even care if she was a little sweaty. She wasn’t going to chance it.

When he texted that he was out front she took a few deep breaths and looked in the mirror one last time just to be sure before dashing to the front door as quietly as possible (so as not to wake Brad) to let the famous pop star into her small, rented bungalow.

She gestured to Harry with a finger to keep quiet, “My roommate is sleeping. Do you need water? The bathroom?”

Harry’s grin revealed that he needed only one thing. And neither had anything to do with what she’d just offered.

“I take it no baking cookies, then?”

They grinned at each other as she led him to her room.

Her bedroom was cute. She had cream curtains that draped down to the floor, a wooden dresser with a framed photo of Y/n with her family atop, a coaster from a local bar, a box that appeared to be a jewelry case, and a carton of tissues. Her bed was made and the comforter looked fluffy with a pretty pink and yellow flower pattern all over it. Framed prints of plants and flowers on her walls and a standing lamp in one corner. A closed door, which was definitely hiding a closet behind. A nightstand on either side of her bed.

“Cute,” Harry spoke as he looked everything over and then brought his gaze back to the woman he’d been fantasizing about since their last night together.

“Yeah. Uh… this is it.” She shrugged and felt her tummy warm up under his scrutiny. He was staring at her and she knew he was there for one thing only.

Sitting on her bed she sighed and attempted to lighten the mood, “So… that tip was way too big, Harry. I can’t possibly accept such a thing. I don’t think–“

Harry shushed her as he sat down and took her hand in his, “Nonsense. You are an amazing server and deserve every penny of that. Probably more even.”

His light eyes were scalding. Every inch of skin he took in she felt sizzle.

“Thank you. Just feels weird. Especially now that you’re here…” she laughed quietly.

“Now that I’m here? What do you mean?” His fingers wound into hers, his thumb moving along the edge of her hand. Such an innocent gesture, giving her goosebumps. Though she was well aware his intentions weren’t innocent.

“I mean… Like you just gave me a bunch of money and now you’re in my bedroom,” she smiled and tried to maintain eye contact but it was hard with how gorgeous he was.

“This is separate from that, Y/n. You should know that. I just missed you which is why I wanted to come here. You’re just really good,” he looked at the bed and then back to her, “You know… in this setting.” He grinned wide.

“In this setting?” She laughed at his words and shook her head.

The grin dropped from Harry’s face as he brought his free hand up to cup her jaw, “Can I kiss you? I missed these lips so much. I’ve been thinking of them since that first time with you.”

Nodding her head she felt him pull at her thigh just as his lips found hers.

Things had shifted since the last time she saw him. Somehow it felt a little different. Maybe more intimate in some way. It was probably because they were in her bedroom rather than a hotel suite, and this was the second time they’d be seeing each other in this context. But there was something else there too. She was feeling… less sure of herself. She still had the confidence she needed to kiss him back and unbutton his shirt, but unlike last time when she was feeling very forward, this time something kept her slightly reserved.

And Harry noted her softer demeanor. He didn’t mind it, though. In fact, this time he was feeling like he wanted to show her how good he could be. Give her a taste of him taking the lead and maybe have her begging him a bit. He was in a bit of a mood that night. He was glad that he saw her in the restaurant because it’d been a month since he’d gotten laid (and it just so happened the last person he’d had sex with was Y/n) and she was the only girl he could think of that would scratch the itch he had.

Y/n was pressed back into the mattress as Harry pulled her sweatpants off, “Do you want to feel good, Y/n?”

She nodded and puffed a laugh out, “Well… yeah…” She thought that was an obvious answer and the way she responded told Harry she was mocking him.

Harry paused the movements of his hands as he stuck his fingers into her panty’s waistband. He cocked his brow up at her in warning before he popped her thigh with a smack. She laughed and sat up with her mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Behave. I was just asking a question. Wanna try that answer again?”

She swallowed and blinked her eyes, “Yes, Harry. I want to feel good.” She smirked at him. Her answer was still lined with cheek but he’d give her a pass. He wanted to see her.

He smiled and nodded before proceeding to pull her panties down her legs, “Good. Because that’s what we’re here for. To feel good. Take your shirt off for me.”

Y/n was relieved that Harry seemed to pick up where she was lacking. She didn’t know what had her feeling so permissive but they seemed to be on the same page. She peeled her shirt off over her head and Harry spread her legs apart, fitting himself in between her thighs.

He was still mostly dressed. His shirt was unbuttoned and his jeans were undone. Both Y/n’s doing, but that was as far as it had gone with getting him out of his clothes before he stopped her and began to tell her he was going to get her naked.

“Can you take your bra off too? Need it all off.” He waved his hand toward her chest as he directed his sight to the space between her thighs. It felt so vulnerable to have him clothed while she was naked. But she did as he said and removed her bra for him.

The dim lamp in her room kept everything visible. Harry could tell she was already a bit wet. The gleam peeking out from her labia had his tummy on fire. He couldn’t wait to feel her again. Slip his cock right in and drive into her. He imagined he’d need to keep her mouth covered while he was fucking her to keep her quiet because he recalled how loud she was the first time they’d been together.

But before he could indulge himself in feeling the juicy stretch of her around him, he was determined to have her come in his mouth and on his fingers first. She didn’t orgasm when he ate her out the last time and that was something that stuck with him. He had nowhere to be the following morning and given that it was a Sunday he figured she was free as well so they could play for a lot longer this time around. Not that that stopped them from having a good romp and then a quick fuck in the morning the last time, but he planned to take his sweet time with her now.

He smoothed his hands up her thighs and licked his lips, “I’m gonna lick your pretty pussy until you come and then if you’re still well behaved maybe I’ll let you taste my cock for a bit before I fuck you. How’s that sound?”

She nodded and moaned softly, “Mmm… That sounds so good.”

Harry smiled and pressed his thumb over her clit and gently began to rub back and forth, “It does doesn’t it? I missed this with you, angel. Can’t believe I thought it was just going to be the one time. Seems as though fate had a different idea.”

She scrunched her brows and an ooh feel from her mouth at the feel of his thumb on her clit and his soft words.

Harry leaned over her body, the fabric of his shirt dragging over her tummy as he dipped down to wrap his mouth around her pebbled nipple. She craned her neck back into the soft pillow and sighed at the feel of him on her. His lips on her breast and his thumb on her wet nub.

By the time he’d licked and sucked the expanse of both of her breasts, she was completely on edge. On fire. His teasing thumb gently rolling her clit back and forth was making her lose it.

“Fuck… please, Harry,” she whispered as she stuffed her fingers into his hair. He lifted off her breast and looked up at her, “What is it, angel? Please what?”

“I just… I want you to fuck me. Now.”

Harry sat back onto his haunches and looked at where his hand was at her pussy. All wet and shiny for him, “What did I say?” He looked back into her eyes, “Don’t you remember what I said I was gonna do first?”

She let out a shaky breath, “I do. I just thought you could skip it if you wanted. Really want to feel you again.”

He kept his thumb working her clit as he groaned, “I want to feel you too. But I have to have a go at you first. Want to put my mouth right here,” he slid his thumb upward and pressed down, “and make you come.”

Her tongue poked out from her lips as she kept her mouth parted. Heavy lids and wiggly hips.

Harry loved the way she looked. Like she was ready for whatever was to come. She was desperate for him and he already had her saying please. He loved a little begging when he could get it.

“Little tongue coming out to say hello,” he reached forward and pressed his finger onto her pink muscle and she immediately wrapped her lips around his digit. His own mouth dropped open at her desperation. Her tongue pressed into the pad of his finger and she sucked him in.

“Shit, angel. I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good. Okay? Don’t worry.”

He felt her lift upward into his hand and he got the hint. She needed something.

Pulling his finger out of her mouth and taking his hand from her pussy he pulled his shirt off over his shoulders and knelt down, pressing his fingers through her crease, coating his digits in her slippery essence.

He looked up at her face as he plunged two fingers into her hole and then lowered his mouth over her cunt and she bellowed loudly before putting her arm over her mouth to keep herself quiet. She’d have to keep herself in check with the noises but her concern about Brad being right next to her room was slowly dissolving.

Harry chuckled into her labia as his tongue slipped up and down, lapping at her arousal.

It was soft but every time he puckered his lips and ran his tongue up and down her clit she felt a spark lighting up her insides.

Her moans were muffled under her arm. But she was so wet that everything in her room sounded exactly like what was happening. Harry’s lips and tongue and fingers moved through her wet labia and creamy arousal and she wished she could record the sounds to listen to later.

Harry’s heart was pounding in his chest and he curled his fingers and dragged the tips along her soft ridges on the inside. He flattened his tongue over her clit and slurped before quickly sweeping his tongue back and forth. Her little squeak was a good sign. He smiled.

When he felt her fingers in his hair, pulling gently she began to roll her hips into his face. He lifted up to take a look at her as much as he could with her fingers on his head. She was gorgeous. Her wet pussy was smeared all over his face, her tits swayed softly as she arched and writhed, her hair was splayed out across her pillow, soft thighs parted.

Then he noticed the way she was fucking herself down onto his fingers. Her hips began to move faster and her pathetic mewls were falling muffled from her mouth.

Harry lowered his lips back to her pussy and she sighed in relief. But he only applied a sloppy kiss to her mound before looking back up at her. He moved his free hand up her body and pushed her arm off her face, tilting his head up to speak, “Keep your eyes on me, angel. You can be a good girl stay quiet. I know you can,” he pumped his fingers into her as he spoke against her pussy in hot breaths.

She adjusted her body slightly, using the pillow to help keep her neck angled so she could watch him. To keep her eyes on his. She gasped and tried to stifle her moans as she watched him dig in with his whole face.

His pretty green eyes were mostly pupil, dark with only the edges of crystal green surrounding. She put her other hand into his hair and cradled the back of his head. The hand he wasn’t using to finger her had her thigh held down, his fingers pinching into her soft skin.

But then he used his tongue to move quickly back and forth over her clit while thrusting his fingers deep, curling into the right spot. And there was something about his eyes watching her that made her flush hot. His steady gaze seeped into her brain and wrapped itself around all those bits that supplied dopamine and caused a craving that would be hard to shake.

His fingers were stuffed so deep inside of her that she knew he must be getting his knuckles drenched. Probably his whole hand given how wet everything sounded. The bend of his fingers inside of her and the pressure on her clit, when he sucked her, pulled a loud groan from her lungs. But it didn’t stop him from continuing the sloppy lapping and slurping.

Pulling his hair tighter between her fingers she bucked her hips into his face and tried to close her legs slightly by instinct. Harry kept her one thigh pressed down hard and he used his shoulder to hold her other side down.

She cried out, “Oh god!” And threw her head back, removing her eyes from Harry’s just as she felt the spark turn into a harsh current that began to tip her into the edge of her orgasm. She knew it had been too loud. Knew that it might have woken up her housemate but she was too far away from caring about that just then. Her pussy was being snacked on in a way she’d never experienced in her life.

Harry dug himself in deeper when he could tell she was close. Her loud cry and the quiver of her thighs were a good sign. He kept at what he was doing and looked up at her soft tits as she arched her back and moaned his name.

When she began to clamp down on his fingers and her moans moved into a steady stream of whining and whimpering and her muscles tensed he knew he’d gotten her to come finally. He allowed her to have her eyes closed because he could tell it was intense. He’d have her watching him next time he made her come on his cock.

Which reminded him of what sort of state he was in. His hard dick was painfully achy. But the anticipation for what was to come had him reeling as he licked her through to her end, keeping his fingers inside of her, working her until she slowed her hips and loosened the grip on his curls.

He sat back, grabbing her hands from his hair, and looked over his handiwork. Her pussy was ready to be fucked. She was ripe for more. He knew she’d be good for another orgasm. Her body was made for this.

When she finally opened her eyes she giggled as he leaned over her frame. His face was all wet. His chin, his cheeks, and his nose were shiny with her. She followed him with her eyes as he climbed over her.

Somewhere in between her coming and right then, he’d removed his pants and boxer briefs. His cock hung heavy over her face, “Open.”

She was flat on her back as she opened her mouth for him, reaching a hand up to grasp the base of his cock to guide him to her mouth. She felt his warm tip against her lip, the smear of his precome and her slippery arousal wetting the edge of her mouth before she wrapped her lips around him.

The groan he let out was the sound of pure sex. She had barely done a thing but she was already smiling to herself at the way she made him whine.

Harry held onto the headboard with one hand and used his other to grasp the back of her head as he pushed himself down into her throat. He’d only dip in a few times. Make her swallow and gag around him once her twice because he wanted to fuck her. Wanted to feel her again.

She closed her eyes when Harry’s tip dragged against the back of her throat. He pumped himself into her a few times and she swallowed as she gagged around him. The whimper he let out made her brain swirl. She was thoroughly enjoying having her throat fucked. He wasn’t going in too hard but he was taking control of her and dipping in until she was coughing and drooling.

He pulled himself out and looked down at her, moving his hand up to her cheek with a grin, “My god, angel. Just so fucking perfect.”

She was still catching her breath. From her orgasm, from having his cock in her throat, from the intensity of the moment…

She could hear him ripping the condom wrapper open before he was back in view. He sat between her legs on his haunches as he softly moved his palms over her thighs and up to her hips, “Gonna give me another one? Come on cock this time?”

She planted her gaze on his and nodded, “Yes…” her words were a whisper.

The cheeky grin Harry returned to her had her heart fluttering. He was so painfully attractive she felt like this was all a dream.

“Good. Need you to keep your eyes on me this time, okay?” He paused as she nodded, “Want to watch your face when I make you come. Might have to cover your mouth if you get too loud like you just were. Is that okay?”

Another quick nod and a moan told him she was on board.

Harry moved his hands up her sides, pressing his fingers into her soft skin and up to her breasts, kneading at them for a moment before lining himself up to her hole, “Look at me.”

They kept their eyes locked as he slowly pressed in past her tight opening. Harry knew that if they went without a condom he might come inside of her and not want to pull out. If she felt as good as she did with a condom, he knew he’d be falling in love and down on one knee if he felt her without.

Her puffy, juicy pussy was taking him in just as he remembered. He had to work himself in and out a bit before he finally got himself into her balls deep. He would have loved to tuck himself in further but he was halted from his thick, full balls.

“Feel that, angel?” He groaned quietly as she nodded nodded in gasps. “Yeah? It’s so fucking deep, isn’t it? Love the way you spread open for me,” he rocked into her and pulled back, listening to the slick sounds it made.

He put his palms on the mattress with his body leaned over hers, using his strong back and thighs to fuck into her as deep as he could. He just wanted to be stuffed inside of her guts, fucking into her as far as humanly possible. And she felt that too. It was deep. The sharp ache made her keen but the drag of his pelvis against her clit felt otherworldly.

Her thighs were pushed back, bent at the knee as Harry laid himself into her over and over again. Thick, deep, languid strokes.

“Ahhhh!” She cried when he smacked into her, pushing her upward slightly.

Harry groaned and kept his eyes on hers, “Yeah? It’s that good, huh? Gonna have to cover your mouth now because I’m about to go a little harder.” She wanted harder. Liked soft too, but hard stuck around for days. Loved the feeling of having her pussy fucked so good she was reminded of it later on. Just like the first time they were together. She felt him every time she sat down or stood up for two days. Felt the leftover ache on her thighs and the burn on her bottom.

Harry angled himself down, pushing her thighs apart further with one hand and covering her mouth with his other. And his sudden punishing thrusts had her eyes going wide. It hadn’t been expected so quickly but he got right to it.

He could feel the vibrations of her moans against his palm as he buried himself in and pulled back to his tip before he hammered back into her repeatedly. Long, deep, fast strokes.

She was already rolling her eyes into the back of her head. He wanted her to watch him but he’d give her a small break and make her open them when she was coming. He wanted to watch her face and her eyes as she reached her peak.

Her bed creaked and the springs danced loudly. Muffled sounds of moans and the wet slap of skin filled her bedroom. Harry didn’t necessarily want her roommate to hear them but he did enjoy all the noises that came with sex. And in all honesty, they were both being as quiet as possible given how hard he was fucking her.

His thighs burned from the thrusts and his back muscles held himself steady over her, “Listen to that, angel. Our bodies connecting like that. How wet you are for me…” he moaned his words as he watched her face screw up in ecstasy. Her muted noises were stifled with his palm as he wrecked her insides.

She felt every inch of him taking her. Every slip and thrust, drag and pull, every deep nudge inside… She opened her eyes to see him already looking down at her and she nearly lost it. His hair was in his face, curls swaying, sweat building at his temples, his arms were flexing as he held himself up over her, his chest flushed and glistening from the intensity of his thrusts into her. He was so strong and so overpowering she felt like a rag doll under him flopping and grunting under his hand. She was just a hole to fuck as she clenched down on him when he pasted his hips to hers and rocked inward sharply.

“Keep those eyes open, angel. I can tell you’re about to come on my cock and I need you to look at me so you know who’s making you come,” he spoke his words through gasped breaths as he pushed into her deeply, slowing his thrusts so he could control his own orgasm. He was too close and he knew she was nearly there.

He rocked his hips into hers he ground himself down when he stuffed himself in fully, making sure her clit was being smushed against for friction. Repeatedly he fucked her little hole with slow plunges and smoothed against her clit. Every time he screwed into her to the hilt he felt his balls pressing into her bum, being wetted by her creamy arousal. He keened at the feel of her around him. Every little ridge of her insides taking him in like they were made for that very thing had him spinning.

Harry removed his hand from her mouth. He wanted to see her whole face as he fucked into her. Wanted to watch her mouth drop open as she creamed on his cock when she came, wanted to hear her cries, fuck anyone else that might hear. In that moment it was all about his angel and how good she was feeling. All he cared about was that she was being taken care of and that he was making her feel as good as she deserved.

“Harry, please… oh my god please…” she gasped as she clung tight to his back. His cock inside of her felt full and had her walls tingling and fluttering. She was reeling with pleasure and having him inside of her. Never wanted that feeling to go away. If she could bottle it up and take it with her she would. So she tried to stave off her orgasm for a moment longer.

“Begging me, baby? Want to come so bad don’t you? But it feels so good like this doesn’t it?” He used a hand to hold the side of her face as if he were being gentle with her. As if he wasn’t fucking into her deep with harsh ruts inward that had her gasping for air. His words and his soft touches and his hard cock were doing her in.

She tried. She really did. She wanted to have him fucking her like that for hours but she couldn’t hold on any longer. She began to moan, starting with a low, quiet sound, until she was crying out his name and shaking under him.

She kept her eyes open but found the task difficult as she started to come. And she realized that watching Harry while she came only intensified her orgasm. Her head swirled with his handsome face hovering over hers, looking directly at her as he made her come felt like she was being dominated in a way that she’d never experienced. He hadn’t tied her up or whipped her or anything like that, but it was the sensation of being watched while she was coming that made her feel like he was taking control. The experience of having the man who was making her come as he looked down at her at that moment felt like he’d claimed her as his. He was watching his own work come to fruition and it was a dominant act.

“Fuck, angel. Just like that. Come all over me. She me how good it feels.”

Y/n babbled an unintelligible response and moaned around her syllables and vowels. She didn’t know what she was saying as she forced her eyes to stay on his.

And it had been worth it to keep her eyes open when she saw Harry’s face pinch up and his mouth drop open. She could hear his groan and the harsh thuds into her cunt before he stilled and clenched his teeth as his cock throbbed inside of her. He was coming and she got to see it on the tail end of her own orgasm and it was the hottest thing she’d ever seen.

“Ahhh!” He panted as he sucked in a deep breath and choked out a loud moan. The release was heaven. He came so hard he wondered if it could be possible to leak out of his condom. He pumped and throbbed and worked himself to his end as he looked down at the pretty angel under him all fucked out and smiley on his cock.

His chest heaved as he twitched the last little bit and his features relaxed on the comedown. He kept himself over her as he began to smile, “You okay?”

She was melted below him, a soft smile on her lips as she nodded, “So fucking good. Oh my god…” she whispered.

Harry gently pulled himself off of her and checked to verify that he hadn’t in fact leaked out of his condom before pulling it off and tossing it onto the floor. He’d deal with the cleanup later. In that moment he needed to hold her and kiss her for a while.

She felt her body pulled against his and then his lips caressing over hers. Soft and reassuring. Her orgasm had been intense. Maybe the most incredible orgasm she’d ever had. The eye contact was something she hadn’t expected. She thought it would feel silly. At first, it made her feel vulnerable but when she could tell how much he needed it, needed her eyes on his it felt like a rush. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and she came so hard.

She kissed him back and put her hands up to his shoulders. Lazy and soft and sweet.

Harry pushed his nose into hers and spoke softly, “That was really, really good, Y/n. You don’t mind if I stay the night here, do you?”

Shaking her head she scraped her nails against the nape of his neck, “I want you to stay. Please.”

. . .

Waking up in her bed with Harry next to her felt like a wild fantasy. She considered pinching herself as she fluttered her eyes open and saw his sleeping face smushed into her pillow. The night before he’d been a sex god. A man so fine with a masculine and well-muscled body that he made her mouth water and her clit throb. He’d fucked her so good and it was so hot it gave her goosebumps just thinking about it. But there he was lying in her bed asleep, pink lips and glossy eyelids, small puffs of breath coming from his nose, and adorably messy hair. She couldn’t quite wrap her brain around how he went from the man who took control of her the night before to the soft, cute, sleeping beauty the very next morning.

He asked if he could stay. Said he wanted to be with her a little longer. And that was the part that really stuck with her. Sure he was handsome and then some. They got along so well and everything felt so compatible with him. And that was a problem. Because he wasn’t just some guy. This was Harry Styles. She couldn’t go getting her feeling too mixed up in everything. But he made it hard with the way he treated her and handled her. Like they’d known one another for an eternity.

On their first night together it was clear that what they were doing was just something fun and that was it. Which she was fine with. She happily accepted his terms then. Just as she happily said yes to him staying the night this time. Whatever he wanted she was fine with it. Well, she hoped she’d be fine. Because she was sure he’d never get his feelings mixed up with sex when it came to her.

Gently putting her fingers into his hair she saw his eyelids move and then slowly he graced her with his gorgeous eyes and then a soft smile.

He didn’t say anything before he dragged her the short distance to rest her head on the pillow his head was on and kissed her.

And it went from a quiet soft morning make out to Harry’s erection poking into her hip and then scrambling for a condom with messy hair and soft sighs to a slow break of day fuck.

The springs in her bed bounced gently with every thrust of his hips. Harry kept his mouth glued to hers as he drove into her soft, wet pussy. All of her blankets had been kicked to the floor in a rush for the condom and switching positions on the bed and now it was just two bodies at the center finding relief and catching an early orgasm before their day began.

Harry rocked into her, his cock so hard and thick she felt every single inch of him moving into her and slipping back before he languidly pushed in until his hips met hers. She had her ankles crossed over his back and Harry had one hand cradling the back of her head, his mouth covering hers while his other forearm kept himself held up slightly, his chest against hers.

She gasped under him, reaching for breath every time he thrust into her. His own panting grew more desperate and soon the first sound of his voice was heard for the day, a whimpered moan falling from his throat as he felt her walls taking him in with a decadent squeeze and wet squelch.

Morning sex was always Y/n’s favorite, but it turned out it was Harry’s too. It was less fussy really. Just two tired bodies wanting to connect and feel pleasure in the golden morning light. No preamble or big to-do. Just soft morning sex and a delicious orgasm to get the day started off right.

The moment Y/n’s moan grew loud and Harry felt her cunt spasming and pulling him in deeply he let go, spurting into his condom and licking into her mouth as he throbbed in ecstasy.

And just like the night before and the first night she’d spent with him, she was amazed. Maybe it was the shape of his cock or their natural chemistry. Or maybe it was just Harry, but somehow the sex with him was beyond just good sex. She was going to be haunted by this man.

When he pulled out he held her thighs apart and lapped at her gently, just for a taste. Just to enjoy one more little squeal from her throat, which she immediately gifted him.

“Harry stop! I’m too sensitive!” She pushed at his forehead and he smiled up at her before collapsing onto the bed next to her.

He hated navigating relationships because being famous already put his life under a microscope. Most of the time it wasn’t worth it to keep seeing someone for sex unless it was a person he knew feelings would never be a problem with, and they could both have the understanding that it was just sex. But that was rare for him. Harry was all or nothing with sex usually. It was either a one-time deal or he’d want a long-term committed relationship. And the latter was complicated for someone with his lifestyle. His last long-term relationship was something he’d take with him forever. He considered it a lesson learned. And for him that meant needing to be very picky and selective about whom he let into his heart.

No more mixing business with pleasure and then taking on the guilt of having a public break-up. No more women with super complicated lives that he could get mixed up into.

He felt like he was treading dangerously with Y/n. He didn’t want to hurt her and he didn’t want to get himself hurt either. But he could see himself being with someone like her. He liked her spice and her straightforward demeanor. She was confident and funny. She wasn’t the type that he’d be able to keep his feelings separated from the sex with. He was already getting attached.

“What?” He asked her. She was lying next to him, they were sharing a pillow and she had a small smirk on her face as she gazed over his features.

“Nothing. It’s stupid,” her grin didn’t fall off her face.

Harry brought a hand up to her jaw and he thumbed gently toward her temple, “Tell me. I like stupid sometimes,” he laughed.

She bit her lip and looked away from him for a few moments before putting her eyes back on his, “Your song, Watermelon Sugar. It’s about cunnilingus?” Her smile widened feeling ridiculous asking him such a question but she couldn’t get it out of her mind. Ever since the night before when he made her come from eating her out (a rarity for her) and then that morning after they’d had sex when he went in for a quick lick.

Harry laughed and nodded, “I guess. Yeah. Why?”

“Cause you just seem to really like it.”

Harry took in a deep breath and moved his hand down her side, “I love it. Is that okay?”

She looked at him like he was crazy, “Of course it is. Very much so.”

She wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Harry had been fun and sweet. And to know that this famous man could have anyone he wanted yet he chose to spend the night with her felt like something quite special. Something she wouldn’t get the chance to do ever again. To have him in bed at all was a crazy notion. But to have it happen twice?

“I want to see you again. When I get back to LA in a couple of months. Is that okay?” He said as he pulled her in for a hug before they left her bedroom. His car was waiting for him.

His words shocked her. Again?

“Oh. Yeah… Sure. That would be fun.” She was surprised. Stunned. If he wanted to see her again what did that mean? Was he thinking of her as more than just someone to have sex with?

“Well, geez. You don’t sound very enthusiastic about it,” he laughed as he pulled back from the hug.

Shaking her head she grinned, “Just didn’t expect you to want to see me again. You’re gonna be gone for months. I mean… I’d love to. Of course. But you know… No pressure.”

“Of course, there’s no pressure. I’m just saying I’d like to see you again if you’re free when I return to LA. That’s all.”

Letting out the breath she’d held in she nodded, “Yes, Harry. I’d really like that.”

Harry smiled softly and put a hand up to her face to press his palm over her cheek as he looked her over, “Gonna miss you, angel. Wish I could take you with me.”

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Text

A Warm Welcome - Dazai Osamu x Reader

Pairing: Dazai Osamu x Reader (can be read as any gender, no pronouns used) Genre: fluff Word Count: 2 493 Warnings: Dazai level of suicidal thoughts, food Summary: Dazai comes home to a warm flat and a homecooked meal A/N: For those who don’t know: kotatsu are those Japanese tables with a heater and a blanket

Dazai Osamu had gotten used to coming home to cold and dark apartment and no one to welcome him. Not that he had ever made the experience of coming home to a brightly lit up and cozy apartment with a warm welcome. Really, he usually was only glad to have a home to come back to in the first place.

Now that he was standing outside his front door, key in hand, eying the slither of orange light that crept through the gap between door and floor, he wondered who had broken into his apartment and turned on the light. He knew that he hadn't forgotten to turn it off. In the morning, when he had woken up, it had already been light outside and at night he barely ever turned it on to begin with, preferring to make his way around in the dark.

So, who was in his flat now? Had one of his enemies found him and was waiting inside to kill him? Honestly, after the day he had had, Dazai would gladly show his murderer-to-be where he kept the kitchen knives, should the other have been forgetful enough to not have brought a weapon.

But what would you say? Would you be sad if he died? Or would you be mad at him, for walking into such an obvious trap? Why did he even care about what you would think? You were his co-worker, nothing more.

Well, his co-worker, who he had been enamoured with from day one, who he had never treated with anything but utter respect, in whose presence he kept his suicide-talk to a minimum, because he had once seen how it upset you. And you were the only co-worker whom he had told about Oda, the only co-worker, who had ever gotten him anything for Valentine's Day.

It had been a cute, light pink box with a heart on it, and handmade chocolates inside. You hadn't signed your name, only a card with the word "Enjoy!" but he knew your handwriting well enough to know the box had been from you; he didn't need Ranpo to figure that one out. And you hadn't told him they were just friendship-chocolates either, which meant they had been the real deal. Valentine's Day had only been last week, so he hadn't yet had the chance to gift you a bag of chocolates back, and he wasn't sure about how to go about it either. He wanted to be so much more to you than just a colleague, but he could hardly ask you out out of nowhere, could he? Well, not that any of this mattered anymore, with his sealed fate waiting behind the unlocked door of his flat.

He sighed. Of course it would never work out between you and him anyway, you were too perfect for a suicidal maniac like him either way. So, he twisted the doorknob and let himself into his flat.

"I'm home," he announced loudly to his intruder, before he even realized that his flat smelled deliciously of food, or that there was soft music playing from the kitchen. What kind of assassin would put on a soundtrack to commit his crime? Oh no, he was going to get murdered by an absolute nutcase, wasn't he?

"Welcome back!"

Dazai startled at the sound of your voice. Why were you here? You were in danger with the assassin around, weren’t you? Or were you the assassin? What had he done to upset you enough to warrant you wanting to kill him? Apart from his everyday behaviour that was. Had you expected an answer to the Valentine’s Day chocolates earlier?

“You’re just in time for dinner! I made curry,” you let him know, poking your head into the short hallway with a grin before disappearing back into the kitchen.

Diner? Curry?

You weren’t here to kill him? What an unexpected turn of events…

Confused, Dazai toed his shoes off in the genkan and slipped past the door into the living area. You had set up two bowls, two sets of chopsticks, spoons and cups on the kotatsu in the area Dazai usually used as his living room. You had even plugged it in already. Dazai couldn’t remember the last time he had used this thing. It had come as part of the flat, but usually Dazai ate in a café, restaurant, or the convenience store, and even when he ate at home, he never had plugged in the kotatsu. It always gave him the feeling that the soft blanket keeping the heat trapped under the table would cause a comfort he didn’t know how to deal with.

Blinking a few times, trying to make sense of the situation, he turned towards the kitchen, where you were standing at the stove, stirring something in a big pot. It smelled delicious.

“I hope it’s okay I let myself in.” you spoke over your shoulder in Dazai’s direction. “Kunikida called and say you had a… well, a day, and I thought it would be nice if you got to eat something proper tonight.”

“Why Curry,” Dazai asked, ignoring his increasing irritation. Kunikida had called you to tell you to look after him? Did he even have time in his so tightly planned schedule for things like such a call? And how had he even noticed? Did this ideal-obsessed former math teacher actually have a heart after all?

“It’s the comfort food, isn’t it?”

Dazai got distracted by the beeping of an electrical appliance on the kitchen counter. A rice cooker? Dazai didn’t own a rice cooker (doubtlessly proof of how much he cooked on his own). Had you brought your own rice cooker just to cook for him?

“Is it,” he asked back, finally remembering to answer your rhetorical question.

“Well, I’ve never met anyone who doesn’t love curry on a cold winter evening.”

Right, cold. His flat wasn’t cold as it usually was when he came home. Instead, you had turned on the AC in the kitchen. Dazai wiggled his toes in the plain black socks he wore. He could actually feel his toes for once.

“I’ve never thought of it like that,” he admitted.

“If you have a different comfort food, I can try making that for you next time,” you offered.

Next time. Next time. He liked the ring of that.

“I don’t really have a comfort food,” Dazai mumbled, almost hoping you hadn’t heard him over the humming of the extractor fan. But of course you had, your movements stopping for a moment and Dazai could already hear you asking ‘Why not? What kind of food did your mother always make for you? That’s probably your comfort food’, but the question never came. Instead, you continued stirring for a moment before you replied.

“Then I’ll just make all kinds of different foods for you, until you’ve found a comfort food.”

Dazai swallowed hard and nodded, even though you couldn’t see him.

“Okay,” he agreed.

It was such a strange idea, such a weird concept, to come back to a home that was not dark, but instead lit up by the gentle light in the kitchen, to a flat that was not cold, but warmed by the AC that had been turned on, to a person welcoming him home, to warm food, the promise of a full stomach. Was that really what other people got to experience every day? This gentleness of someone else, directed only at him? How had he never thought about how nice something like that would be? How much more precious life would feel with someone who cared?

“I’ll- I’ll go take off my jacket…”

Quickly apologising himself from the kitchen, he disappeared into the bedroom. In one quick motion he slipped out of his coat, throwing it into the general direction of the wardrobe, and ran his hands through his hair while pacing up and down. What was going on with him? Why was it so important to him that he had come home to someone waiting for him? No, not someone, not anyone. You. Dazai exhaled with a small sigh, stopping in his tracks. The worrying, the overthinking had time for later, he decided, now all he had to do was enjoy the food you had made for him.

When he came back into the kitchen, you had just scooped some rice into the bowls that had been standing on the kotatsu. Taking a glance at Dazai, you giggled.

“Your hair is all messy,” you laughed, making him run his hands over his hair self-consciously. Oh dear, was he blushing? “How much curry do you want?”

Dazai stepped behind you to the stove, placing one of his hands at your waist, not missing the way your breath hitched. At least he wasn’t the only one out of their depth here. Glancing into the pot before you, he couldn’t help the way his mouth started watering. In a thick, brown sauce, that smelled deliciously of many different spices, he could make out pieces of onions, potatoes, and carrots.

“As much as possible,” he chuckled, brushing his nose against your hair, and pressing a quick kiss to the shell of your ear before he drew back.

Instead of an answer, he received a chuckle that warmed him even more than the warm air from the AC already did. Standing beside you, he waited until you had finished topping the rice with the curry, and handed him a bowl, before he followed you to the kotatsu and slipped in opposite you.

It seemed like he had been right in the assumption that you had turned it on, because his legs, up to where the blanket was pooling around his hips, immediately got engulfed in comfortable warmth. He didn’t even realise he was sighing until the gentle sound of your soft giggle reached his ears.

Blinking his eyes open, having closed them in bliss, he quickly sat up straight, grabbing the chopsticks you had laid out for him and folding his hands.

“Thank you for the meal,” he announced with a smile that was a bit too bright to be quite genuine. He wanted it to be genuine, but how could he ever bring across his gratitude for you taking care of him like this?

“Thank you for the meal,” you replied, and Dazai could feel your eyes on him as he picked up a piece of carrot, covered in the brown sauce.

As soon as the food touched his tongue, his throat closed up. Not in the way it would have if the food was disgusting. Quite the contrary really. The carrot had been boiled soft, the sauce added a rich, spicy flavour to the sweetness of the vegetable. It tasted like heaven. And it had been cooked by you for him. How could he ever find a way to express to you how much this meant to him? His nose was itching suspiciously with the burn of rising tears, but he willed them away, and instead focused on chewing and swallowing his first bite, the food immediately starting to warm up his stomach.

When he looked up from his bowl, he noticed you had also started eating, focusing on your food rather than on his reaction.

“I think, you don’t have to cook different foods each week for me to find my comfort food,” Dazai said, making you look back up at him. Quickly he scooped some more curry into his mouth.

“What do you mean,” you inquired, you head gently tilted to the side.

“I think, my comfort food is curry,” Dazai admitted, “as long as it’s made by you.”

His heart definitely skipped a beat it shouldn’t have skipped at the away you were smiling at him now.

“Is that your way of asking me to cook for you again?”

For a moment Dazai was tempted to answer the way he always would have. Something cocky, something that hid the way you had wormed yourself into his sad heart. But with the flavour of the curry you had made just for him, lingering on his tongue, with the warmth that spread from his stomach, he just couldn’t seem to pull on his usual mask.

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but…”

“It’s okay,” you smiled, and Dazai felt you nudge your food against his knee under the kotatsu. “I’d be happy to cook for you again. Oh! We can make it a weekly date! Curry-Tuesday! How does that sound?”

Dazai nodded, quickly focusing back on his bowl, before you could see the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him and drag him under.

“A weekly date,” he asked instead.

“Yeah, I mean like- oh! Not like that, I mean like a-”

“Why not like that,” Dazai asked. “I think I’d like it better if it were like that.”

“You mean, like-”

“Like you, letting me take you out on days when you’re not making curry, that is.”

For a moment you were quiet, quiet enough for Dazai to fear you could hear his loudly beating heart over the quiet humming of the AC.

“I still gotta make up for the Valentine’s chocolates you gave me, right,” he added.

“So… curry-cooking dates and other dates? That sounds like a lot of fun,” you finally answered, and Dazai couldn’t care to hide the sigh of relief that escaped his lips at your agreement, his heart settling down at least a little bit.

“It does, doesn’t it,” he laughed, finally looking up from his bowl again, meeting your eyes. Even in the rather plain light of his living room, your eyes glimmered brightly as if they were shining from within.

You nodded in agreement, biting your lower lip, before you broke into a giggle.

“What?” Dazai watched you both in confusion and amusement, as you flopped backwards against the floor.

“Just-,” you shrugged, before leaning back up on your elbows. “I’m just happy, ‘s all. Am I not allowed to be happy?”

Dazai stretched out his legs under the kotatsu, nudging his feet against yours and letting you intertwine them with one another.

“On the contrary, my love,” the nickname slipped over his lips without his permission, but he couldn’t be bothered to correct himself at the sight of how bashful you grew. “We’d have a problem though if you weren’t.”

You laughed again, covering your face with your hands as you sat up properly again and shook your head.

A/N: It’s Curry Tuesday, because is Japanese that’s an alliteration (curry = カレー - karee, Tuesday = 火曜日 - かようび – kayoubi), also: this is actual karee-kayoubi footage right here

Dazai kept his eyes on you a moment longer, trying to memorize your flustered and amused reaction before he dedicated his attention to the curry again. There was something so infinitely soft and comforting of coming home to finding you waiting for him. Sure, the food was nice, but it was only meaningful because you had made it for him. Because you had turned on the kotatsu and the AC to warm up the flat. Because you had welcomed him home.

Tags: @un-lawliet

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hellfirenacht · 3 months

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Wing Man Part 7

Fic Summary: Steve 'the Hair' Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you'll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

(1 2 3 4 5 6)

Chapter Summary: Dustin spills the beans, and Wayne gives some advice.

A/N: Happy New Year! I ran out of steam there for a while but I am bursting with new inspiration and have a billion ideas for new and old fics! Thank you for your patience and support 💜

The next night after dropping you off at home, there was a storm the likes of which Hawkins had never seen. Lightning lit up the sky through the night like a shitty rave, knocking out the power for Forest Hills Trailer Park for the better part of two days. It wasn’t until Saturday, when Eddie attempted to check in on Ronnie again, that he realized that their worn out phone had been completely fried. Shit.

Getting a new one was easier said than done, Eddie and Wayne had to pinch pennies this week after his uncle had been out of work a few days because of a cold, and having to replace a good chunk of groceries that had gone bad sitting in the dead fridge.

Sure, Bev had been nice enough to give Eddie a few extra shifts at the Hideout to help cover but that was a paycheck that wasn’t going to be in for another week. There was always his dealings, but he’d been keeping his head down after nearly having his stash blown by an over enthusiastic K-9 unit that, thankfully, was more interested in the jerky that Eddie had in his jacket.

For a week, he’d been without a phone now. Normally it wasn’t a huge loss, not many people actually bothered trying to call him anyway, and Wayne didn’t really socialize much working the night shift. But he missed Ronnie, and he really was stressing each day that went by that he didn’t call you. Eddie knew that whatever this was, he was probably already blowing it.

Tuesday rolled around again, and he hoped that you’d show back up to the Hideout. Jeff had even agreed to give most of the band a ride if Eddie agreed to haul their equipment and do all of the breakdown in case you needed another ride home. No such luck though, unbeknownst to him Keith had come down with the same cold that his Uncle Wayne had the week before, meaning you had to work a double.

It was now Friday, over a week since you’d written your name in the most stubborn permanent marker he’d ever come across. Your name still stained his skin in a faint and ugly shade of pea green. Eddie could now say your number by memory, despite never having punched in the digits once. If anyone at school had noticed that Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson had a girl's name on his arm, they didn’t say anything.

“Whose number is that?” Mike asked in the middle of a time out while Zach and Gareth were pouring over the rule book over the legality of a move that Eddie was sure was bullshit. So much for that.

Eddie’s head snapped over to the freshman while those in Corroded Coffin snickered and suddenly lost interest in the rules for the moment. With the candles and stage lights on, it was always warm in the Hellfire room, and Eddie had stripped his jacket giving his arms a chance to breathe while he guided the party on their next adventure.

It had also meant that the faded remains of your number was still visible, which he hadn’t thought much of until Mike had pointed it out.

“Yeah, Eddie, whose number is it?” Jeff snickered, which earned a hard look from Eddie that under any other circumstances would have shut Jeff up but in this case only made him laugh harder.

For a moment he debated internally about putting his jacket on, and telling them all to shove it. It was tempting, very tempting, but Eddie wasn’t a teen anymore. Hell, he had a good two to three years on most of the members in this club. Why should he be embarrassed because a cute girl had some sort of interest in him?

Because you’re blowing it by not being able to call her. He told himself.

Eddie then told the table about how you’d given him your number right before he dropped you off. How you’d been a perfect gentleman and hadn’t taken advantage of him or made any untowards moves to him. (Even if he had thought you almost did, but he kept that part to himself).

To his surprise, the ribbing was kept to a minimal. Without Eddie fighting against it, the group became less interested. Eddie’s love life was only of interest when it meant that the sheep could finally have some fun with the shepard.

That was going to be the end of it. Jeff had conceded that the rule they were looking up had been an old house rule from his middle school group that he had never questioned as not actually being accurate, and they were ready to move on. Eddie opened his mouth to guide the party to the next encounter-

“I thought you said you weren’t interested in her.” Dustin suddenly said. Eddie had thought that the shrimp had been suspiciously quiet for the past few minutes.

“If that was him not interested then I’m quitting Hellfire to be a cheerleader.” laughed Gareth.

“No one wants to see you in a miniskirt, man.” said Mike.

“They have guy cheerleaders!” protested Gareth. “I’d wear the pants.”

“That’d be a first.” ribbed Zack.

“Don’t you have to be crazy strong to be a cheerleader? Gareth, your strength stat sucks.”

“I haul my own drumset every week!”

“Can we get back to the game?”

“Eddie,” Dustin spoke up again. His brows were furrowed and he was messing with his pencil, the same way he did when someone in the party was about to do something that didn’t make any sense. “You did say you weren’t interested.”

So much for Eddie’s love life being of no interest, he now had a herd of sheep looking at him expectantly, no longer talking about Gareth possibly changing after school activities. He should ignore it, get everyone back on track, and lead them back into the Forbidden Caves where he was not tempted to throw a mimic in for messing with the flow of the game.

He should... but Dustin’s comment bugged him for some reason.

“I never said that.” Eddie said, looking at the kid.

“What? Yeah you did!” Dustin looked as shocked as Eddie felt. When had he ever said he wasn’t interested in you?

“Oh yeah, when?” Eddie crossed his arms and leaned back in his throne, his eyes narrowing.

“At the arcade!” Dustin sounded frustrated. “You told me that you didn’t want me introducing you to anyone when we were doing Hellfire related shit, and that you weren’t interested anyway.”

The warmth from the candles and stage lights were nothing compared to the heat of everyone’s eyes on him. What the fuck was Henderson even talking about?

Oh. Oh what the fuck?!

“Excuse me?” Eddie said slowly as that thirty second conversation started to play in his mind.

“Yeah, I remember that.” Mike added, in an attempt to back up his friend. “We just assumed she wasn’t your type.”

Eddie hadn’t been looking to be anyone’s boyfriend. He was never looking to be dating anyone, the few times he’d found himself in the good graces of a girl who’d shown interest in him it had always blown up in his face.

That had never stopped him from trying though.

“Are- wait. Back up.” Eddie stood up and made his way over to the opposite end of the table where the freshmen were suddenly looking very nervous. He grabbed them by the shoulders, as he’d done so many times in the past and hauled them up while the rest of the table watched on in amusement. Normally, Eddie would never pause the game but, fuck it. This kid had something to do with you, and he was going to figure out what.

“Jesus, Eddie-” Mike said, wincing at the grip. “I don’t have anything to do with this, it was all Dustin and Steve!”

This was getting more and more confusing by the moment. Eddie shoved the two boys to face them, leaning over them. Even with Mike’s growth spurt over the past few months, somehow Eddie still seemed to tower over them.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice was slow, trying to understand why that name was even being spoken in the private sanctuary away from jocks.

“Yes, Steve! They’re like, best friends or something! Ask Dustin!” Mike said, throwing his friend under the bus.

“What’s the big deal?!” Dustin asked, looking between Mike and Eddie with a look of bewilderment.

“Henderson, you have thirty seconds to explain what the actual Hell is going on before your character becomes Quasit food.” Eddie said, releasing his grip on both of the freshmen.

“Okay, okay!” Dustin held his hand up in surrender, looking nervous as everyone watched the scene unfold. “So, you know how her and Steve work together? Well, they had a deal going on where they’d help get each other dates.”

Eddie’s head tilted down slightly, but his eyes stayed firmly focused on Dustin. This was making less and less sense by the minute. Steve needed help getting dates? King Steve of Hawkins High who had the pick of any girl in school before he graduated? That Steve Harrington couldn’t get a date and so had recruited you into helping him?

And you, you with the everything about you couldn’t get a date either? Hadn’t you mentioned something about that before, at the Hideout?

“I help him and he uh... he helps me get out of the house.”

You’d said that, and he hadn’t thought much of it until now. All this time, Eddie had thought the arcade incident had been Dustin trying to have his two older male friends meet and be friends, but it had been you that he was supposed to meet?

“So you’re telling me that you, Dustin Henderson and Steve Harrington were trying to set me up on a date?” Eddie looked over at the rest of the table that looked just as bewildered as he did. This was a prank, right? He’d been tossed into some sort of alternate dimension where a freshman and a jock had any sort of interest in his love life, in any part of his life. He’d sooner believe that he’d run a drug deal with Chrissy Cunningham than this.

“Well, technically we were trying to set her up on a date and you seemed like a good fit?” Dustin’s answer came out as more of a question, leaving Eddie’s mind reeling. Behind him, he could hear the growing snickers of the party.

Eddie was ready for this to start making sense any time now.

“So she was helping Steve get dates and he wanted to set her up with me?” Nope, even after thinking it a half dozen times it still wasn’t clicking.

“That part was my idea actually!” Dustin said, showing off a smile filled with metal. “She’s pretty weird and Steve said she was picky-”

“Can’t be that picky if she was interested in Eddie.” muttered Gareth, earning another round of laughter at the table.

Eddie didn’t even have it in him to shoot another look at the table as he continued to try and piece together what was going on.

You and Steve had a deal to try and get each other dates. You were picky and so Dustin suggested Eddie. Steve then brought you to the arcade to force a meeting and-

“Wait, did she know that she was supposed to meet me?” Eddie asked suddenly.

“Oh yeah, she knew the whole time in the arcade.” Dustin nodded, hoping that Eddie wasn’t about to blow a fuse over this. “Well, she figured it out at least. See she was just supposed to be tagging along with Steve to find guys to flirt with but then uh... she realized she was supposed to meet you.”

“And she didn’t know who I was?” Eddie clarified, thinking back to the way you’d tried to talk to him about Hellfire, Chris Morrison, anything to try and start a conversation. How the hell was it that he could remember every time you two met so clearly, but you didn’t know who he actually was?

Because it wasn’t about you, Eddie. He had to remind himself.

Dustin shrugged. “I guess not? She’s never mentioned you before that night.”

Guess not everyone paid attention to the Freak. He hated that it bugged him that you didn’t remember him but could he blame you? He probably wouldn’t remember him either, just a Munson fuck up who everyone was waiting to end up dead in a ditch somewhere.

Eddie pushed Dustin back down into his seat, done interrogating the poor freshman. Everyone watched as he made his way back to his side of the table, behind the DM screen. He had a lot to think about, but he wasn’t about to start processing that in front of the rest of Hellfire.

“You all wander deeper into the cave, the only light coming from the torch carried by-”

“I have dark vision!”

Broke and bored, Eddie haunted the trailer for the rest of the weekend. He did have practice with Corroded Coffin for a generous two hours on Saturday, and then a long shift that night at the Hideout where one old drunk had slipped him a $10 tip for making sure he always had a cold beer in hand. But those few hours were just a minor reprieve from the information that Dustin had given him the previous day.

When he wasn’t distracted by work or practice he was practicing guitar, working on lyrics, prepping for the next Hellfire session.

He tried to think about you, but ended up feeling confused. When he was trying to think about anything else, all he could see was the way you had flirted with him at the Hideout.

Despite popular opinion, Eddie wasn’t stupid when it came to girls. He could tell when a girl was interested in him, and you had made it clear that you had at least some interest in him. You had told him point blank that you were not with Harrington, and had no interest as well. He’d seen the way you looked at him while watching them play, that excitement in your eyes. Your head had bobbed to the rhythm of their songs watching them with as much enthusiasm as if you’d been a fan for years.

Paige had watched with similar eyes, right? She’d seen something in them that no one else had before-

No. Not them. Not Corroded Coffin. Just Eddie.

It felt pathetic that he kept comparing you to Paige. He didn’t want to, he really didn’t want to. It wasn’t like he was still hung up on Paige, not really. She’d just been a turning point in who he was as a person. She’d been the first (and last) girl to really look at him as a person. If his dating prospects had been small before, they had completely dried up over the past two years.

Date the freak? Yeah, right. There had been the odd girl who’d hit on him as if daring themselves to get with him but he was done with that. A few mediocre dates that he’d agreed to out of boredom or loneliness had only added to the idea in Hawkins High that he was undesirable. Adding to that, the older he got, the younger his underclassmen became and the idea of dating someone younger was... well he didn’t need to add ‘creep’ to the long list of rumors about him. It didn’t matter to him most of the time, instead focusing on his friends, his band, his club, his business, himself. God knows he’d never be able to hold down a relationship unless he got his shit together and earned everyone’s trust again.

“Graduate and get laid, Munson.” Ronnie’s voice echoed in the back of his mind and he groaned as his face warmed. It was the middle of the week, just over two weeks since the night at the Hideout. Eddie was laying on the old couch face down, his homework on the counter half finished and the blue glow of the tv doing little to distract him.

The sound of the door opening didn’t even phase him enough to look up, even as Wayne grunted out a hello before setting something down on the counter next to his forgotten schoolbooks.

“Did you eat?” Wayne asked, which earned a shrug from Eddie. How could he think about eating when he was stuck thinking about everything else?

“Are you gonna tell me why you’ve been moping around for the past few weeks?” Wayne tried again in an attempt to be a good guardian. When that didn’t work either he sighed and said “Might as well step outside with me and have a smoke.”

It was better than doing whatever the hell else Eddie was doing now, and so he rolled off the couch less than gracefully and followed his uncle out onto the porch to sit on the outdoor couch. Wayne offered him the smoke and for a moment it was peaceful. Wayne wasn’t one to push Eddie to talk about anything, but he did have a way to make him think even if it did piss him off occasionally.

Eddie took a long drag of the cigarette and released it slowly as he stared up at the sky. It was a dark night, a million tiny dots illuminating the trailer park, even if the moon wasn’t out. He scanned the stars, looking for the three that he knew were Orion’s belt. That’s about where his astrology knowledge began and ended, but it was something to look for at least.

“I think a girl likes me.” He finally said as he spotted what he assumed was the constellation he was looking for.

“Yeah?” Wayne asked, his own eyes gazing upwards as well, giving Eddie the space to talk more.

“Yeah.”

It was silent again for a few minutes as they smoked, the only other sound for a while was that of Wayne cracking open a beer. That’s what Eddie appreciated about Wayne, he didn’t need to fill the silence like his dad did, and Eddie didn’t need to either. He could just... exist.

“I don’t know what to do about it.” Eddie finally said a while later. “She only has an interest because her and some jock are trying to get each other dates.”

“Is that right?” Coming from anyone else that question would have been dismissive, a filler phrase to show that they were paying minimal attention. Eddie knew better though, which caused a knot of frustration in his gut.

“I guess.” he shrugged.

“How many dates has she gone on?” Wayne passed the beer to Eddie, who took a grateful sip.

“Don’t know. It didn’t sound like she’d been on many. Henderson said she’s picky.”

“But she likes you.”

“Yeah.”

Another long stretch of silence as Eddie stewed over the question. He hated how Wayne could break down his problems into simple questions.

“Don’t see why you’re moping around if she likes you.” Wayne glanced over at Eddie. “Are you sweet on her?”

Eddie snorted at the term, taking another drag from the cigarette and flicking the ashes off the porch. “She’s cute.” he said, thinking about how you’d looked the last few times he’d seen you. He might have been distracted that first night at the arcade, but not so distracted that he didn’t notice that at least. “Smart too. She got the guys to listen to her last time we hung out.”

Wayne raised an eyebrow. “She got Gareth to pay attention? That’s a damn miracle.”

“They liked her too.”

“More than the California girl?”

The question caught Eddie off guard and he looked up at Wayne who was still looking off in the distance. Eddie had never explained exactly to Wayne what had happened that first senior year, most of the details going to what happened with Al when Officer Morris was shot. They never talked about how Eddie was so damn close to packing everything up and running away to California.

Thinking about everything that happened that year still stung. Eddie had tried hard not to think about what could have been if CJ and Toby had just shown up one or two days later. Would Eddie have made it to the audition? Would they have really liked him? Maybe in another life he’d be signed and he’d be working on an album or on tour and him and Paige...

It didn’t matter, that ship had long since sailed. Eddie was no rock hero, and never would be. He tried to tell himself it was better this way, if anything it meant that his relationship with Al was over and done with which was a hollow victory if he was being honest.

“Definitely more than her.” Eddie finally agreed. You weren’t asking him to ditch the band and run away with you, so that had to give you some points for them, and for him. Dustin vouched for you, and even Mike, but he wasn’t sure how much that counted for yet. After all Dustin still seemed to worship Steve, and you were friends with Steve-

But did that actually matter? If you and Steve were close enough friends to help each other like this, and Steve was willing to vouch for Eddie, despite never having any real conversation just because Dustin said something-

“She gonna ask you to run away?” Wayne was now looking at Eddie again.

Sometimes he wondered if his uncle could secretly read minds.

“Doubt it.” Eddie said, “She works at the video store. I don’t know much about her, honestly.”

“So ask her on a date.”

“What?”

“She likes you, you want to get to know her. Ask her on a date. It’s not that complicated, Eddie.” Wayne dropped the cigarette on the porch and crushed it under his boot. “You always did think too much, always sucked up in your own world. You’ll be happier in the long run if you open up a bit.”

Easier said than done for a 20 year old still in high school that the whole town considered a satanic cult leader. Then again, when was the last time he’d really opened up to anyone other than Ronnie or Wayne? Right, his dad in the weeks before the heist.

“I think I fucked this up before I could even start.” Eddie sighed, snuffing out his own half finished cigarette. “She gave me her number and I never called.”

“Could’a grabbed a quarter from the change jar and used a pay phone.”

Eddie pressed his hands against his face and dragged them down slowly. Why did good advice always come too late for him?

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I brought back a new phone for the kitchen today.”

Eddie’s head snapped up so fast he should have snapped something, his eyes widening.

“Don’t get too excited. It’s a new used phone. Guy down the line from me offered it up and it’s better than nothing.”

Eddie didn’t care if it was a rotary phone, he’d take anything at this point if it meant that he could try to call you.

He wanted to call you.

He wanted to call you. Eddie didn’t care if you remembered that first time you met, did it even really matter? You had an interest in him, Eddie Munson, now.

“Thanks, Wayne.” Eddie stood up and hurried inside, seeing the new old phone that was sitting on the counter. It took a few minutes of making sure it wouldn’t fall off the wall before he plugged it in and heard that sweet dial tone sound.

Eddie grabbed his copy of Lord of the Rings from his bedside table and pulled out the paper flower, looking at the number scribbled in his own chicken scratch. He didn’t trust himself to punch in the number without checking, no matter how many times he read the ten digits over the past two weeks.

It rang once.

Twice.

Six times.

No response.

“It’s late, she might be asleep.” Wayne said, grabbing a box of pasta from the cabinet.

It wasn’t that late, not even 8:30 yet. Eddie sighed and hung up the phone, crossing his arms as he thought about his next move. He’d always had tunnel vision when he got an idea into his head, from Corroded Coffin, to his campaigns, to a book that he wanted to read, it was hard to shake the urge when he got one.

Grabbing the keys from the counter he called over to Wayne “I’ll be back later.” which was responded to with a confirmation that he’d save some pasta for Eddie in the fridge.

There weren’t many places he could think of where you could be tonight. You hadn’t shown back up at the Hideout, and the arcade was closed this late on a weeknight. You could be at home, but Eddie didn’t remember where you lived and showing up to your place after two weeks of radio silence would definitely get him in trouble.

So he drove to Family Video.

If you were there he’d do.. something. If you weren’t he’d call you after school tomorrow. Eddie winced internally at the thought. He’d been trudging through school and dragging his feet for the past six years to graduate, and now was the time he felt childish about it. You could legally buy him a beer, and he could illegally sneak you a drink in the Hideout.

At a stoplight he swapped out the Black Sabbath tape for W.A.S.P., remembering that you had mentioned liking them. How did he continue to remember these small details about you?

Because she’s treated you like a human each time you’ve talked. It was startling how something so basic was such a big deal to him.

The lights were still on at Family Video, and the open sign was still lit up. He could see movement inside the store, and he caught sight of someone wearing the signature green vest that the employees wore.

He’d walk in, and if you were there he’d- fuck what the hell was he supposed to do? Eddie stared at the door from inside his van for a few minutes. It was past nine now, and he could have sworn that they should be closed now but that stupid sign was still on. That had to be a good sign right? Eddie wasn’t one to believe in stuff like that but maybe he’d be stupid to ignore a literal neon sign hanging in the door.

Okay, now or never. Eddie had never really been one to hesitate before and he wasn’t about to start now.

He made his way to the entrance and opened the door before he could think about what he was actually wanting to do. Eddie could improvise, it was one of the more useful skills that came from years of running Hellfire.

“Who didn’t lock the door?!” Your voice was a welcome sound, sealing the determination inside of him. No going back now.

“It was Steve’s job to-” your co-worker said. She looked familiar, but he couldn’t place a name to the face.

“Oh, shit. Hi.” Steve was the first to actually notice Eddie as he walked in, looking as if he was expecting literally anyone else.

Turning on the Freak, Eddie smirked at Steve. “Cursing in front of customers, Harrington? Now that’s not very professional of you.”

“Well, we’re closed. You can’t be a customer if you can’t pay.” Steve said, putting his hands on his hips in a way that reminded Eddie of a mother hen. Steve did have a point, and so he decided to cut through any bullshit and looked over at you. You looked like you’d had a long shift, but the way you were looking at him... there was still the same shock that was on Steve’s face, but while his shock was laced with confusion yours was excited. As if you couldn’t believe that The Freak was here and that was a good thing.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Eddie blurted out the request before he could think. He had no idea where you two would go or what you would do but he had to do something.

Your coworker nudged you in the ribs, and your expression changed to a more professional one.

“I- uh. I have to finish closing.” you said, looking at Steve for a split second.

“Steve and I can handle the rest of closing!” Eddie made a mental note to learn this girls name and send her a fucking gift basket one day.

“Guys, I’m literally in charge of you both. I can’t leave before you.” You said, reaching down to grab something from below the counter- your bag. Eddie felt himself growing more excited, his heart pounding as you tossed your work vest and keys over to them. They were basically shoving you out the door to spend time with him.

“We can handle it!” Steve said.

“And I can handle Steve!” Robin added. “We close without you and Keith all the time, remember?”

You stepped out from behind the counter, looking up at him. The color of your eyes under the fluorescent lights reminded him of the stars he had been looking at earlier this evening. Eddie found himself smiling at you as you opened the door for him.

Someone was quick to lock the door and turn the OPEN sign off.

Eddie opens his van door for you, trying his best to make a good impression for whatever was about to happen. You hopped into the passenger seat and he thought that he might enjoy seeing you sitting next to him like this in his van more often.

---

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#Nacht fic #eddie munson x reader #wing man

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cookinguptales · 1 year

Text

So… last week I made a vent post about an accessibility issue I’d had with some podcasters. I really only meant for the post to be read by my followers (who to my knowledge aren’t familiar with the podcast in question) which is why I put minimal tags on it and didn’t name the show.

But… the post got legs that I wasn’t expecting, and eventually a lot of people asked for the name of the show. I hadn’t intended on creating a whole big thing, so I was kind of reluctant, but I did see the logic in what they were saying — as a disabled woman myself, I would also want to know if I were supporting podcasters whose values did not align with mine. So I told people quietly in the notes that the show had been Old Gods of Appalachia.

Things… did not stay quiet.

Frankly speaking, one of the reasons why I don’t write as many posts about disability and ableism these days is because I got tired of people writing to me and telling me that people like me should be dead. So you can imagine what kind of fucking week I’ve been having since all that blew up. It’s been a very high symptom week, too, so I’m just. Very tired and stressed rn.

Personally, I’d be happy to never talk about it again and try to get back to my everyday life, but I did think it was important to note that the creators of OGOA must have gotten wind of the post, and they did contact me.

I won’t post the whole email here, but it was a good response. Since seeing my post, they’d tried getting in contact with the venue and realized very quickly why I’d been so frustrated. They ended up needing to go through their booking agent to get any kind of answers — so like, to the people who sent me a thousand messages telling me I was an entitled idiot who just needed to contact the venue, please know that none of you were remotely helpful.

Again, I’m not going to post the entire email, but I did think it was important to be fair and use the same platform that I used to vent to tell people that they seem committed to doing better in the future. They told me that they would be making sure that they have all this information going forward and that they would no longer allow it to be such a barrier to entry for disabled fans.

They invited me back to the show and… god, I’ll admit it. I really had to think about my answer. Not to sound ungrateful, but after the week I’ve had, even thinking about the podcast, the podcasters, and that damn live show has me stressed af. I had to really consider whether I even wanted to go.

But in the months since I first contacted them, they added a show that’s a lot closer to where I live, so rather than a weekend trip, I could just take a single bus. And it’s near one of my favorite Japanese restaurants in the city, so if all else fails, I can at least have some good katsudon. So I will be going to the Philadelphia show.

(Though for fellow disabled fans, Terakawa Ramen is not wheelchair accessible. 🙃 Most days I can do the two steps into the restaurant, but not always. Philly, I love and loathe you.)

Anyway, I wanted to reply to them before I made a post here, but… yeah. We’ve worked things out, I think. Only the future can tell what they'll do going forward but they do seem committed to doing better.

To me, there are always two goals when I write about disability and ableism. The first is that disabled people will feel seen. That is always, always my primary goal. It’s so easy for us to feel invisible and unimportant, and I always want to make you all feel seen, just like I want to feel seen. The second is that able-bodied folks will listen and learn and do their best to support their disabled peers in the future.

So… I think that my post managed to fulfill both of those goals. A lot of disabled people have reblogged that post and have talked about their own experiences, and a lot of them have explicitly said how much that post makes them feel seen. And the podcasters in question seem to have really reflected on their actions and seem to want to do better going forward.

So as incredibly fucking stressed out as I’ve been, I guess I can’t regret making the post. It’s always good to know that your words can have impact. The post has long since moved out of my friends circle so I assume it’ll just keep circulating and I’ll keep getting shitty anons and chat messages, but I’m just gonna focus on what good has come from it. I’m hopeful that my post will make life tangibly better for at least a few disabled people, and I’m encouraged by the fact that podcasters who I’d formerly liked do actually seem to want to do the work needed to improve.

And uh I’m not answering any more messages from people who just wanna swear at me. I’m tired. Leave me alone.

#it took me six hours to get out of bed today due to dizziness so like #forgive me if I'm not quite as coherent as usual lmao #it really has been a SUPER bad week as far as symptoms go #old gods of appalachia #OGOA #podcasts #cw:#ableism #disability

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starlazergazer · 1 year

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Spare Key

Pairing: Anakin x reader

Request: An AU where your left eye is your own color but the right is the color of your soulmates, set between Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith, Anakin runs into his soulmate on a lower shadier level of Coruscant where she works as a bartender for a bar that mostly deals with mercenaries and bounty hunters. From here the reader and Anakin have to work through the issues of Anakin not being able to form attachments and the jedi order

Warnings: Some swearing, some jealousy, lots of angst

Word count: 3K

A/N: sorry this took me so long to get out but I really hope you like it I had a lot of fun with the creative freedom and hope you like where I took the story! Sorry it’s angsty!!

Anakin had never much bothered to study the color of his right eye. There was no point in it really, the jedi code was strict, jedi knights could not form attachments with anyone, even soulmates did not trump it, though it felt cruel for the universe to give him one anyways.

A part of him long ago had mourned the loss of what could have been, had he stayed on Tattooine could he have met her? Was she out there somewhere waiting for him? A soulmate that could never be. Did she even know?

But as he grew up, started to get more serious about being a jedi knight and exactly what that meant he accepted it, accepted that perhaps the order had a reason to establish such a rule it their code. His mind became filled with other thoughts, troubles, dreams, desires, and he forgot about the soulmate that could have been and the color of her eye.

That was why he didn’t think twice when he saw the color of the bartenders left eye as she bent down just beside him to put a round of drinks on the table.

A part of him, a small part that never grew up or moved on, noted that the color of her left matched the color of his right but that didn’t mean much. There were only so many eye colors out there and he had met more than enough with the right color but that didn’t mean they were the ones.

He had a mission to focus on anyways, a table of mercenaries spread out around him as they accepted him as one of their own, talked of the job they were planning to pull off in just a few days, Anakin’s ears finely attuned to the conversation to report back to the council later.

A small break in the conversation as drinks were passed around and the man next to him asked for another, a voice sweet as honey answered him smoothly, the tone hinting at a smile behind those words and Anakin felt his attention being pulled, his gut wrenching ever so slightly as he found he needed to see who had spoken them, needed to see the smile for himself.

He was met with quite possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, the quick glance he stole just moments ago when she set down glasses not nearly enough to do her features justice, a soft smile playing on her lips that was effortlessly lighting up the room, drawing out a similar one on the man next to ham’s features along with quite possibly the most polite words he’d heard the man utter since sitting down. Somehow even getting a please at the end of his question.

He felt himself smirk at the sight, his eyes climbing further up her features before he froze, a very familiar left eye staring down at the mercenary as he spoke, his own eye.

A part of him insisted that it was a fluke, that blue eyes were common in Coruscant, that surely that couldn’t be his own, but at the same time he couldn’t let it go, couldn’t shake the thought as it consumed his conscious mind, his eyes only breaking from her as she slipped past to go back to the bar, his gaze hovering in the empty space where she had been for far too long.

“I’ll go grab that for you” the words were out of his mouth before he could even think them, a hand clapping the man next to him’s shoulder briefly as he stood up and made his way to the bar, at the moment not caring that he was abandoning his mission.

He walked up to the bar on Shakey legs, leaning more onto the countertop than necessary as he watched you work, pouring another drink for his table, her eyes flicking up to his as he stared for longer than what was polite.

She, however, didn’t seem to notice, her body freezing as her gaze connected with his own, her own eyes dancing happily back and forth between his, studying every detail carefully, drinking in the familiarity those eyes brought

“Oh-ah-what can I get you?” something snapped her out of the paralysis, her posture snapping upright as she tried to go back to her job, a distinct pink hue taking over her cheeks as he did so that had Anakin grinning.

“I’m Anakin” he held out his hand, not caring that that didn’t answer her question.

“Y/N” she returned with a smile, clearly showing that she didn’t care either, the handshake going on for a few seconds longer than was necessary.

Eventually Anakin regretfully withdrew his hand, elbow coming up to lean on the bar, by no means eager to leave “Can I just say you have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen”

And to his delight she laughed at this, head going back slightly as her body shook with it. With that sound Anakin knew that he was screwed, you both were. Because there was no way this could possibly end well, but he was sure going to enjoy every moment with you in between

“Did you have a good date tonight?”

The question came from a darkened corner of your apartment, the familiar voice cutting unexpectedly through the silence making you jump slightly as you walked into the room, turning to shut and lock your door with an uncomfortable chuckle.

“You scared me” you tried to avoid the question, tried to move naturally to pull down the end of your dress, to act like this was all normal.

And to an extent it was, it wasn’t the first time Anakin had used the extra key you gave him, telling him he could come by whenever he liked, knowing he needed a place to get away from the order every once in a while. But this time was different, you knew it would be if he were here, was why you never even considered bringing the guy home with you that night, while that and a few more reasons…

“Did you have a good date tonight?” he repeated his question again and you knew you weren’t getting out of answering it. His tone wasn’t curious, it was flat, accusatory, it was a tone looking for a fight and you had a hard enough time talking yourself into going on the date in the first place, let alone defending that decision to Anakin.

“It was fine” you forced a shrug, forced your tone to be light and nonchalant, forced yourself out of the little foyer and into the room where he could actually see you from his chair, walking over to the kitchen for a glass of water, putting distance between the two of you as if that could calm the oncoming storm.

And to your surprise it seemed to work, his next words coming out much softer than before, barely more than a whisper “I haven’t seen that dress before”

You looked down at your dress as if you had forgotten what you were wearing, eyes grazing over the short, tight, black dress you had worn tonight for your date, a dress you’d worn because you knew you looked good in it, something your date obviously had noticed too. “It’s new”

You heard Anakin’s loud breath from across the room, a long sigh followed by a bitter chuckle, “you bought a new dress for him”

“Anakin why are you here?” you sighed, hands coming naturally to your hips as you looked down at the Jedi in his seated position, gearing up for the fight your could feel coming, the tension in the room thick enough you could feel it.

“I just want to know” he shrugged casually, giving you a moment’s pause to prepare for his next words, for the sucker punch he knew he was about to deliver “what’s the point?”

And just like that you could feel the anger building within you, feel every ounce of patience start to leave as you crossed your arms defensively over your chest, willing yourself to keep a level head “if you’re here just to start a fight you can leave”

“I was just curious” he had a smirk on his face as he pushed himself to his feet, as if he enjoyed taunting you like this “you know he’s not the one, will never be the one, so why bother?”

Your chest puffed as you forced calm deep breaths as he approached you, words forming and dying within your head as you formulated your response. Because there are still options you wanted to scream, for no other reason than to remind yourself of that fact. This was real life, shit happens, soulmates die, or never meet, or are jedi knights sworn to a stupid jedi code to never form attachments and people still needed options for a relationship, for intimacy, for love.

But you knew that argument would fall on deaf ears because it fell on your own the same way. Because it was too hard to believe you could still move on while he was here, to settle for second best while your soulmate stood right in front of you, the evidence written in his eyes that were identical to your own in every way.

“What would you have me do Ani?”

And you could feel the defeat slipping into your tone as you asked, the spite in you ebbing and flowing with the sadness in a way too complicated and too exhausting for you to keep up with as you mourned something that never was and never could be. How can a person mourn a relationship that does not exist?

You watched Anakin’s chest rise and fall before you as he took a few deep breaths in contemplation, the time bringing down his anger in his tone before he answered “I don’t know, I just-I thought I’d have more time”

This time it was your turn to laugh bitterly, taking a few steps back from him not needing to feel his overwhelming presence right now “Okay how about you give me a number, the number of days I’m allowed to wait before moving on and I’ll stick to that yeah?”

Another sigh escaped him as he dragged a hand down his tired face, “Look this is…this is hard for me-“

“Oh and you don’t think this is hard for me?” you asked with a scoff, hands coming back up to cross over your chest.

His eyes raked up and down your body for a brief second, the action sending shivers up your spine before he scoffed “oh yeah looks like you’re absolutely miserable”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” you demanded with a raised brow, neither of you bothering to cap the volume of your voices, not caring if your neighbors could hear at this point.

“Oh poor Y/N has to go out on dates with guys who fawn over how beautiful she is” Anakin put a slight whine in his voice as he mocked you, “Least you don’t have to watch your soulmate fall in love with someone else”

“And who’s fault is that?” you countered immediately but you could feel the pressure starting to build in the base of your throat, the draw in your forehead as your eyebrows drew together.

Anakin drew his in response, his voice doping down once again as he looked at you in confusion, “you blame me for this?”

Seeing the way your lip quiver ever so slightly, the glass sheen that grew over your eyes, Anakin was reaching for you instinctively, but you batted his hands away quickly, taking another step back, curling your arms around yourself protectively “who else would I blame?” you asked hollowly “you’re a jedi, you can’t form attachments, you don’t get to have a soulmate, I don’t fit into your world”

Anakin’s response to that came quickly, “say the word and I’ll leave”

And it was spoken so softly, so earnestly that you froze on the spot, eyes bouncing back and forth between his, a perfect match of your own. “what?”

“Say the word and I will leave the Jedi order” he repeated never breaking eye contact with you, never hesitating on a single word.

“No you don’t mean that” you said softly, shaking your head ever so slightly because he couldn’t mean that. The jedi order was Anakin’s life, it is all he’s ever known, it had his mentor Obi-wan, the closest thing he had to family.

“I could get a job with you” he insisted nonetheless, taking slow steps towards you, grabbing your hands in his and giving them a soft squeeze “or fixing things, maybe a mechanic, I don’t know but I could figure it out. Just say the word and I’m yours”

And gods that was exactly what you had always wanted to hear from him. Because he was yours, he was your soulmate just as you were his, and here he was telling you that you were his priority, that he would give up everything for you, that you were more important to him than any future or destiny set out already before him.

Gods did it hurt to hear those words knowing they could never be true.

“that’s not fair” your words came out as barely more than a whisper, the first of your tears finally spilling over the surface and down your cheek, the lump in your throat growing so large it hurt.

“We could live here” he continued on, a soft smile on his face as he spoke “cook eachother dinner, watch movies on the couch, do normal couple things-“

“Stop, please Ani just stop” you had to cut him off, had to stop the image of what your life could be like from forming, stop to onslaught of what ifs from streaming past, because you were weak, and you knew if he kept going, if he kept staring down at you with that hopeful smile and puppydog eyes that you would cave.

“Just say the word” he whispered back to you, giving your hands another soft squeeze.

You pulled them out of his, pulled your body away from his, shaking your head as you put as much distance as possible between the two of you “you can’t put that on me Anakin. You don’t get to make this my decision so that you get to resent me later for making it”

His brows furrowed at that “I wouldn’t resent you, I want to leave the order, I want to chose you, just tell me that I can”

“You can’t” a bitter laugh escaped you at that, a glare sent his direction because he knew why he couldn’t, knew why things had to be the way they were and still was insistent that it was your problem, your fault “I know about the prophecy, I know you’re supposed to be ‘the chosen one’, that you bring light to the force or whatever, so you don’t get to just walk away from everything”

“And yet here I am” the anger was bighting back into his voice, the volume starting to rise again “saying that I will walk away from everything for you”

Another tear spilt over and you didn’t bother to wipe it away, refusing to break eye contact with Anakin as he dared you to say something, dared you to tell him to stay. Why did he have to make it so hard, why couldn’t he accept that this was the way things had to be. “I will not be that girl. I will not be the one to doom the entire galaxy, the entire order, especially while we are on the cusp of a war, for selfish reasons”

Anakin took a minute to respond, a deep breath filing the silence before another small hollow chuckle “and you still say this is my fault?”

And there it was, the reason he had started this fight, to release him of his own guilt. To be able to say that he wasn’t ruining your chance at having a relationship with your soulmate, rather you were ruining his.

And at this point fine. You were tired, done with the same argument, done having to rationalize everything not only to yourself but to Anakin as well. If he wanted you to be the bad guy then fine you’ll be the bad guy.

“Anakin” you sighed, a hand coming to your forehead as you pinched the bridge of your nose as you prepared yourself “just leave”

You could see him set his jaw at your words, the way his hands balled up into fists, but he said nothing more, simply made for the door.

“Leave the key”

He froze at the words you had thrown back at him last minute, the implications you were trying to sneak upon him in the last seconds, his head whipping around to look at you.

“Why don’t we talk about this tomorrow” he tried to grovel with you, tried to back down from the ledge you had put you both upon.

“I can’t do this anymore” you pleaded back to him, arms defensively over your chest as you tried and failed to maintain your eye contact, seeing your own eyes staring back at you hurting too much “can’t keep having the same argument, I can’t have you around all the time, so close and never close enough. I can’t do it anymore Anakin”

And he blinked back at you in surprise, hesitating for a long moment before he thrust his hand into a pocket of his robes, rooting around for a minute before extracting a small metal key, holding it stationary in the air for a second before hesitantly setting it down on your coffee table, hand hovering above it for a moment before he extracted it.

“I’ll see you around then…right?”

The hopeful tone in his voice killed you, both of you knowing that your paths didn’t cross naturally, that he was often gone for weeks at a time on missions, that he had a war to win.

“Yeah Ani, sure”

And he forced on a smile at your words, the corners of his lips just barely tilting up before he turned back around and headed for the door, your eyes breaking down to the key.

There was the sound of the door shutting, then a brief pause, and the sound of footsteps retreating down the hall before you were ushered into the deafening silence of your empty apartment, eyes never breaking from the small metal key on the coffee table.

Part 2 Here

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a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual · 8 months

Text

These Nimona headcanons are dedicated to the people who keep asking me how I come up with them (short answer: I have no fucking clue)

While Ambrosius is the one to keep the house clean Bal is the only reason their schedules are even somewhat put together

This man has multiple calendars one physical calendar in their living room

A digital one for just him that’s dedicated to things that he knows the duo would be bored by

And a digital calendar for the trio themselves which is his pride and fucking joy

His baby a digital miracle and what he genuinely considers to be his magnum opus

Because Ambrosius and Nimona are the hardest people to organize schedules with

Every conversation with them would go something like this “Hey what are you doing next week” “Oh I’m going to work” “Okay do you know what time you have to head in” *shrugs* “Do you know if you have days off” *shrugs again* “do you even know what days you’re going in” *shrugs one last time*

And then Bal would have to walk away because he was really to commit a crime

No one knows how he actually got their schedules

Nimona doesn’t know how Bal scheduled plans for them when he didn’t have their friend's contact info

It scares Ambrosius how Bal’s able to fit is incredibly hectic days in nice neat color coordinated boxes

The duo doesn’t ask questions and they don’t fuck with the schedule

They just follow it cause it’s always right

Which is kind of horrifying

There is one chore in the house that not even the resident clean freak (my baby golden boy) likes

And that’s washing the dishes

Not a singular person in that house will ever do the dishes without complaining even a little bit

They always take turns and it’s always a lose-lose situation

Because even though there’s this feeling of “dodged that bullet today” they’re also a little guilty because they know the person doing it hates it just as much

They bought dish gloves because that slightly helped the problem

But those things tear like it’s no one’s business which is the fucking worst

One time Bal walked into the kitchen to see Ambrosius crying over the dishes

He asked what’s wrong and all he had to say was “glove”

And Bal knew what he meant because Ambrosius swears that having wet rubber rub up against your skin is almost as bad as touching the bare dishes

Every time Ambrosius or Bal have to leave for more than a couple of days the other will joke that they're a single father

Anytime someone checks in on them they’ll say something like “The life of a single parent is hard but fulfilling”

This basically just translates to them missing their spouse so could someone please bring them back as soon as possible

Nimona always jokes they’re a child of divorce when the boys make that joke

The jokes range from “Being a child of divorce is so stressful” to “Good riddance I never liked him anyway”

Mind you those remarks come after Nimona hung off their legs as they walked out the door

One time when Bal went on a solo trip Nimona asked Ambrosius to go to the park with him

He didn’t question it just packed up the car and drove them to the nearest park

And he swears he only took his eyes off Nimona for a minute and when he turned back around he saw a group of sad-looking kids and adults crowding around a kid

And he instantly knew where he went

He watched in horror as Nimona pointed up to the sky and said “Dad!” a mom asked with a sad voice “Is your dad a pilot sweety?” to which Nimona responded with “No but Papa says he’s in the sky somewhere which is why he never visits”

He just scooped her up apologizing while making a run for the car

A lot of parents were very concerned about why the kingdom’s golden boy just snatched a random child they’d never seen before and will never see again

And they genuinely debate on calling the knights while Ambrosius fireman carries this cackling child away

They do and Ambrosius has to have a very awkward conversation with his old coworkers

#nimona 2023 #nimona movie #nimona headcanon #nimona #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister x ambrosius #goldenheart #If someone ask why they dont use the dishwasher I'll know they're white #Asian people don't believe in dishwashers #And if I do use the dishwasher it's after I've already washed the dishes #you call it impractical #I call it clean

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jamiedc-they-them · 8 months

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Family (Platonic)

This one is a bit long!!! Nimona was so good, and meant so much to me! Wanted to do this as soon as I saw the film and have finally completed it! Just a quick warning, story contains some mentions of self doubt over lgbt identity, some mentions of Suicidal Ideation, and I think that is all (if I have forgotten anything, please let me know!!!). All my love to my lgbt siblings with everything going on right now <333 you matter so damn much! And this film coming at a time like this (and even more so after I learnt about the author of the graphic novel!) is everything!

Also, all my love to the WGA and SAG-AFTRA, keep fighting the good fight!!! I wouldn’t be here writing this (or really any fanfic) without your incredible writing and work! <333

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Nimona and Y/N are not siblings by blood, but choice, friendship, and loyalty. They find that support and acceptance in each other; but, when they catch wind of a knight who is just has hated as them, they see an opportunity to find someone else to add to their family.

If you had parents, you didn’t know them.

You just remembered always being out in the streets, just about standing by.

You never stole, you just took whatever left others you either found, or were given out of sympathy.

Pity did get you a long way, you had to admit.

People felt sorry for you, but then did nothing else to help you.

While it hurt, it never really put a chip on your shoulder. There was nothing anything you could do anyway. You couldn’t fight. You didn’t have a lot of strength in you.

One time, a group of people decided to leverage that. People like you; left behind and given nothing but scraps. Instead of coming together, however, they saw you as a weak link; something to blame for their issues and lot in life.

Just when you thought that would be it for you, someone called out. The pain stopped, but even if it lingered. You weren’t hit again. Your hearing was fuzzy, eyesight blurry.

You blacked in and out a few times.

When you came to, you are on a couch. You hear someone humming. You sit up, slowly, and see a girl around your age cooking.

“Oh, hey!” She says, turning back to you with a smile on her face, “don’t worry about those guys,” she assures you, “I took care of them.”

She seems almost proud.

Still, you just feel good that they’re gone now.

“You can have some of this, if you want,” she says, gesturing to her food.

“I don’t…I don’t want to be a burden,” you say.

You hear a growl, and see a red tiger in front of you, baring it’s teeth, “who said that?” She demands.

“No one really. Just…just the vibe, I guess?”

You look down, subconsciously; the girl seems to notice this, only watching you as you scramble to find the words you need. Then —

“I’m sorry…for not – for not knowing anymore. Could use someone like you out there.”

You feel something on your leg. Looking down, you see a red cat, rubbing itself on your leg. It looks up at you, before jumping on the couch.

“It’s not your fault, kid,” the cat says, “we’ll find them.”

You stroke the cat again. You feel safe. Sure, it’s a talking cat, but the cat was a girl a minute ago. You’ve seen what the world can hold magic wise. You know different things exist. Some people thrown out for all sorts of things they can’t control; this is that for her.

“‘We’?” You echo back to her, as she changes back to her redheaded form, arms crossed with a smirk on her face.

“Hell yeah, us!” She says, arms now up in the air, “we can watch each others back! Like a –“ her eyes light up, “like a sidekick!”

Something in your eyes brighten; something in hers soften, slightly.

They both do that a bit more as your smile widens, “ok then, where do we start?”

“Well, how about names?” She says, but there’s excitement in her eyes, “I’m Nimona!” She says, holding her hand out.

“I’m…” you say, holding out your hand and then pausing, “oh…”

She seems to catch onto what you mean, “I have a bunch of lists of names if you want to look?” She offers.

You nod, eagerly, and she fetches it – throwing some other items over her shoulder while she looks. She presents it to you. It’s a massive scroll that unfurls, “take your pick!” She says, arms outstretched to it like a ‘ta-da’ like pose. She’s proud of it.

You do pick one, even if it takes a bit of time. Still, you find one that works for you:

Y/N.

“Had a feeling you’d like that one,” she says, “I like it!”

You smile again. She does too, even if hers looks a bit like a snarl in a way; seems she’s already thinking of the damage you’ll do together. For you though, it’s about not being alone anymore.

You do get up to trouble. A lot of trouble. You paint art on walls; you play pranks on the guards so you can get somewhere – or sometimes just for fun.

Nimona’s ability to shapeshift is so damn cool. Internally, she feels a spark of happiness she hasn’t felt in a long time at your genuine acceptance and awe of her ability.

She, in turn, helps you find yourself as well. Your style, clothing wise. She notes things that make you uncomfortable as well. Sometimes that leads to deep chats; like the one you have about your lack of care for anything to do with sex or romance, or gender norms.

All she has to say to that is, “metal. Norms are for losers, anyway. I mean, end of the day, you’re Y/N, and I’m Nimona. That’s all that matters.”

It doesn’t matter if it’s something small or major that changes identity wise, her words are always the same and always true.

Her loyalty to you is the same as yours is to hers. You’re always defending her – despite her not always needing it – and backing her up in fights.

You always assure her she has you. You see her moments of vulnerability. Where the mask sort of drops. She always appreciates it. As while she’s not like you in the way of comforting people, she tries to learn from your softness and comforting manners.

You’re all each other have. At least, for a while anyway. You see the news of the manhunt for a man who killed the queen. Someone almost as hated as you are.

Nimona looks to you, and you know what your best friend is thinking.

So, you track him down. She does the talking; though at one point Ballister does look at you and seem to start implying you’re a monster to, and says, “hey, don’t look at them. Look at me,” he complies as he sees you looking around his room. You’re a curious thing.

“What — um, who are…?”

She raises an eyebrow, “they,” she starts, “are Y/N. My best friend and partner in crime and all things evil,” she then leans forward, “and I’m Nimona.”

“Yes…but, what does that mean?” He asks, trying not to piss her off. In his mind, scared he’ll become one of her – he’s sure – many victims.

A smirk appears on her face as she answers, “whatever we want it to mean.”

“Right. Yes. Ok,” he says, “that’s understandable.”

He sees you fiddling with one of his spare arms, “please be careful with that!” He says in fear. You put it back carefully, backing away from it. Nimona raises an eyebrow, letting you handle this. She knows you’re tougher than you look. Don’t get her wrong, you look better now; both a bit more comfortable in your own skin, but also decently fed.

“What is that?” You ask.

“Oh…it’s one of my spares. Just an old prototype I guess, for this,” he says, gesturing to his arm.

“Hm,” you say, looking at it and then the old version, “it’s always nice to have a spare.”

“Like a sidekick!” Nimona says, adding it one to try and persuade the knight – or ex-knight you guessed.

“No, no! Those things do not match!”

“Oh, come on!” Nimona snaps at Ballister. You just watch the interaction go on. She’s always been a stubborn one.

Still, he leaves on his own. You sigh, looking to your friend, “come on,” you say, opening the door to go to where he will end up.

“Ok, kid. You ok with a quick flight?” Nimona asks you as you look at the scale of the building. It’s intimidating; that, and heights were never your thing.

You gulp, “y-yeah.”

“Alright!” She says, happy you’re trying to put yourself out there more.

So, up you go. Despite the fact that she can shapeshift, she keeps you in mind as well as you sneak into the cells section. You do, however, keep watch, letting her go into the cell and break Ballister out the old fashion way – and the way she more enjoys, violently punching the release.

In the closet, you help keep it closed, finding more items. Out of the two, you’ve always been the more resourceful one.

She gives you a single look after Ballister makes his promise. You know what she’s going to do, so you just pull Ballister back a bit as Nimona shifts once again.

Having had some close calls and only gotten away via her shifting, you’re able to stay on better than Ballister, though you do help him when you can reach him. As for you and Nimona, however, you’re pretty much in synch with each other.

However, then comes the need for an exit. You know Nimona can fly, but she can’t hold both of you. So —

“I’ll lead them away,” you say, not allowing anyone to stop you as you take off in the opposite direction.

“Y/N, no! Come back!” Nimona calls out to you. She knows you are quick on your feet, but this is a bad place to try to be. Don’t get her wrong, she’s having fun causing havoc, but now what she might gain in a boss, she may lose a friend. She won’t do that.

Still, nothing she can do. Boss comes first.

So, off she goes, getting them both to the floor.

“Do you see them?” Nimona asks; and he hears the concern in her voice. She’s violent, but cares a lot. He respects that. Despite being surround and fighting, he tries as much as he can to keep an eye out for you.

“There!” He shouts, pointing up before dodging another strike.

Nimona turns as well, smirking, but concern still in her eyes as she sees you near a ledge. You don’t even think about it, you just jump.

So, with the wings once again, she flies upwards, dodging any attacks, before catching you and bring you down to the ground.

You both roll, before joining the Frey once again. You’ve never been as good in fights as her, but your agility and quick thinking does help. Nimona goes more aggressive once she sees Ballister in trouble. You go around some of the guards to help, but you’re taken down too.

That’s only enrages her further.

After you escape, you both start to bond with him. And, he seems a bit more at ease with you both now. You did break him out after all. So, he lets you help. Being a bit more open to ideas.

You all get down to the subway, seeing your wanted images. Somehow, you had never been photographed, so you were just a question mark. Seemed fitting, in a way, you guessed.

“Hm, no,” your best friend says, looking from you to the question mark you, “I don’t see the semblance.”

You roll your eyes, and she just giggles to herself. Ballister watches you both, eyes softening slightly at your genuine friendship and connection.

On the subway, he asks you guys, “so, how long have you both known each other?”

You share a look; her’s is asking if you want to say it, and also asking if you are ok with it being said; yours is the same.

You both shrug. She goes first with her tale, using it to make fun of Ballister.

He still seems a little disturbed by her ability to shift, even asking her to go back a to the ‘normal’ version of her. You both raise eyebrows at him. Sure, he tries to cover up by saying that it’s for other people, and not him, but you don’t exactly buy it.

“Are some of your best friends, ‘normal’?” You say, having heard that before with some people trying to cover up their hatred for you by saying that they know others. It’s bullshit.

“What? I — I, no… No, that’s not what I meant —“ he says, trying to correct his error.

“Too late,” you say, folding your arms, looking away.

Nimona changes back to her human self, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“I, uh, I’m sorry,” Ballister says. You keep looking away.

“Boss means it, Y/NN,” Nimona says, squeezing your shoulder a bit.

Ballister goes to say something else, but Nimona only holds up a hand. He nods, knowing that this is your moment. You need your own breather.

After a moment, you look up at him, seeing his eyes holding a genuine guilt to it. And a plead to make this all better. It’s the first time someone other than Nimona has looked at you. Like a person. A friend, maybe even.

You look at your best friend, the only person you’ve ever been able to call family, and she gives you a smile. You mirror it, putting your hand on top of hers.

“Thanks, Nim,” you say softly.

She removes her hand, before nudging you with her arm, “course, squirt. You and me, right?” She says, holding out her pinky finger. You link yours to hers.

“You and me. Nimona and Y/N.”

“And that’s all that matters.”

Ballister smiles. Then a thought comes to him about the question he asked but didn’t get answers to.

“Are you guys siblings?”

You look at each other again, and nod in sync.

“Closest we’ll ever get to it.”

“That’s cool,” he says, “seriously. Having a friend is…it must be nice.”

Again, you share a look; your journeys have been rough, and you’ve saved each other more times than you can count, but he’s right.

Nimona changes to a small boy, and you smile at her comment of “I am today,” before she goes off to do her part of this hastily cobbled together plan.

Ballister notices your look, “what’s wrong?”

“Just…it’s weird.”

Ballister chuckles, but not in a mean why; more surprise than anything else, “can’t be, especially not compared to my day so far.”

You nod, only really half listening. But, the words come out of your mouth before you can stop them, “I don’t…I don’t feel a fit in with…all this,” you say, pointing to him and then a random woman across the road, “and Nim…she’s fluid with it, you know? Labels don’t really matter to her. I like them. But…I can’t find the right ones. We do our names, and it works and it…I mean, it’s a statement and I love that, really. I just — I don’t know.”

“We’ll find it,” he says, not catching himself on the first word, “trust me, from what I’ve seen of Nimona, she’d burn it all down for you to find it.”

“We’ve taken up too much time,” you say, clearing your throat, gesturing for him to follow you, as you watch the man Nimona was – well, once distracting, but now chasing, went around the corner, “sorry.”

You don’t give him time to say anything back in return, you just take his hand and lead him out into the street once again, trying to find a getaway.

He recognises someone; the one with the punchable face? Maybe, you can’t quite remember. Either way, Ballister is terrified.

He hastily gets you into the vehicle with him, but you do see Nimona with a giddy smile as she shuts the boot.

Then, off you go, though Nimona does call out to you to get down.

With nothing but blind luck, you make it to an alley way. Ballister freaks out at Nimona being hurt, but she doesn’t show it hurts that much. You’re sure it does, but not as much as what is going on inside of her. You sit on the boot of the vehicle as they talk, though they do make their conversation loud enough to make you feel included.

You watch with soft eyes at the interaction, and how Nimona describes it all. When she jumps down when saying “I just wouldn’t be me,” she puts a hand on your leg too, “just like they wouldn’t be them.”

She then nudges you, “go on, bud,” she says softly, gesturing over to the bench, “go have your lil session. I’ll stay with this guy,” she says, jumping up on the boot, legs swinging.

Silently, you go over to Ballister. He looks at a cut on your arm. You aren’t entirely sure when you got it, but he does what he can to clean it.

“May I try ask again how you met?”

“Sure,” you say, looking to Nimona, she nods, encouraging smile in tow, “not the greatest of origin stories. I was always a street rat,” a crumbled up piece of paper hits your head, thrown by your best friend, “Was just always out on the streets. Never remembered anything from before. Guess either I was abandoned by parents dying, or they just left me.”

Ballister pauses, looking at you with sympathy. Nimona’s eyes are casted down to the floor. Like noted before, your lives weren’t easy, even if you had each other. The chaos was always fun, when you guys controlled it. Rebellion was something you both loved, but you were always focused more on survival than rebellion; even though you tried.

“I’m so sorry.”

You give him a sad smile, “I have my moments where��” you drift off. Nimona’s eyes shoot right up to your figure. She knows where your thoughts are going.

“Your parents were either unlucky, or bad people,” she says, “if it’s the latter, then they lost out on someone awesome.”

“Thanks, Nim.”

“No, she’s right,” Ballister says in support, “you’re a sweet, kid. You’re loyal, and kind.”

“But I don’t know who I am.”

“Well, if it helps, I thought I liked girls when I was around your age,” you chuckle softly at that after he does.

“I don’t think I want that from anyone,” you admit. Nimona smiles, glad you feel safe enough to say it. It’s your own small rebellion; she can’t be prouder of you, even muttering out a small ‘hell yeah’ under her breath.

“That’s cool,” Ballister says; you scrunch your eyes brows up slightly, not expecting him to say that, “we want what we want from life. And…if I may ask, about the other thing?”

“…I – I don’t…I don’t think ‘he’ or ‘she’ fit me. I mean,” you look to Nimona in self consciousness, “I know that’s swapping one label for another, but —”

“Labels can help us find a home in ourselves,” she says, wisely. Ballister looks to her, seeing her gaze soft as she continues, “sometimes they change. But, as long as it’s your choice on it changing, then it’s all cool with me.”

You nod, but Nimona catches the slight guilt in your eyes. She hops off the boot, approaching you as Ballister finishes his work on the cut – having only resumed it after your addition, “I always said I’ll tell ya as many times as you need. And I don’t mind, really,” she says, putting an arm on your good shoulder, “you’re my little buddy. My best friend. You’re Y/N, and who that is may shift and change, but you’re still you at the core of that.”

Emboldened by your friends and the feeling of safety to be honest, you look to the man in the boot, “shall we?”

The two look to the man, who then speaks. Saying he’s happy for you all, but now really just wants to be let go.

“Oh, yeah,” your best friend says, cracking her knuckles.

You get the video evidence that’s you need. This is it, your boss – and maybe even friend at this point – can be free. Sure, it pisses you both off at his want to still believe in this system – this system that is built to hate people like you – but you still go with him. Nimona says she’s in it because everyone hate’s Ballister too; and yes, that is part of your reasoning too – you guys aren’t alone anymore. But…if you’re honest with yourself, it’s mainly the latter part to that. To find your crew, you go by your labels and accept you fully.

The plan goes well, and you all escape together this time. Ballister holding you as you fly away.

“Why didn’t we think of this the first time?” You shout over the wind.

“We’re not very smart!” Nimona says with a chuckle.

“You have your moments, though?” Ballister asks, cheekily.

You both laugh this time, “seems so!” You say in sync.

Back at Ballister’s, the events of everything, including another brawl - this time you were more successful - though Ballister was almost taken in but you guys won, and feeling of safety, allows you to sleep soundly for once. Nimona runs a hand through your hair, head in her lap. Ballister puts a blanket over her.

“Don’t wake them, Boss,” is all Nimona says, quietly.

Ballister chuckles quietly, “I won’t, don’t worry,” he assures, before going to his computer.

Nimona soon falls asleep herself.

When Ballister meets with Ambrosius, nothing on your past comes up. Ambrosius is question on it, and says, “I’m sorry, Bal. I really am. I think that (he/she) —“

“They,” he interjects.

“Ok, sorry, yes,” Ambrosius says, correcting himself, “I think they may of met Nimona and been taken down a path. But,” he reaches out and takes Ballister’s hands in his own, “you can stop this. You can save them. We can.”

When Ballister comes back, Nimona seemingly has a sixth sense about this. She wakes up, happy, but slightly on edge when she sees the look on his face. Carefully, she removes herself from you.

“What are you?” Ballister seethes.

“We aren’t doing this here,” Nimona says, moving to the back of the couch, as if a shield.

“Answer me.”

“You aren’t dragging them into this,” she says, a fiery protectiveness in her gaze, “do you know how much they’ve been –“

“How much as done because of you?” That stings, she won’t lie, “you drag them around with you into your schemes. They’re an innocent pers-“

“Exactly,” Nimona says, keeping her voice quiet, but letting the anger still roll through her words, “so, if you wanna blame someone, which you oh so apparently do, then blame me, ok?”

“What’s going on?” You say, slurred as you still adjust to the world. You blink a few times, before slowly sit up on the sofa. You turn to your friends, and both have angry looks on their faces, “what’s wrong?”

“Gloreth,” Ballister says, “the darkness she was fighting to keep out? It was her,” he says, ripping the bandaid off instantly.

You look to Nimona, eyes wide, but not filled with fear, just shock.

“Y/N…” Nimona says, seemingly only seeing what she wants to.

“Nim,” you say, taking her hands in your own, “it doesn’t matter,” despite the reassurances, her mind is already made up. Those voices that she’s kept at bay for herself, and help you fight – and you have returned the favour in both small and large ways – are back in full force. You can see it on your friend…on your sister’s face. It pains you to no end.

“Get away from her, Y/N,” Ballister advices.

“No,” you say, firmly.

“Y/N, please…” you hate how her voice cracks a bit, looking at you.

“Hey, what was it you always said? We’re all we’ve got. You and me, yeah?”

“Don’t you understand what she is. She’s a —”

“No,” you spit, looking to Ballister, who is a bit taken aback, “it doesn’t matter. It matters who she really is. She’s Nimona. Just like I’m Y/N, and you’re Ballister. You’re the ex-knight. I’m the street rat, and Nimona is the reason this broken system was made in the first place.”

“It’s not broken,” Ballister says, running a hand through his hair.

“It always has been!” You shout, he jumps, “don’t you get that? Someone framed you for power. That power is used to make people like me hate themselves. It turns people against each other. It tears people apart, and you still support it!”

“Because it keeps us safe from monsters who want to destroy it!” He can’t stop the words as they tumble out. But, as soon as he sees you both flinch, he wants to take it back.

Nimona runs first, and as you go to follow, you pause at Ballister’s door, “you know, I really thought you’d be different,” the words strike him just like Ambrosius’ sword did. Then, you’re gone.

He slams his hand onto the table, swiping objects away. One gets his attention, that old arm he’d made. The spare. The useful spare. The one that got him through a lot before this better one.

Sure, he knew the metaphor didn’t completely work, but you were curious being. You just wanted to find safety, and Nimona just wanted to find that as well. You were both just looking for love in a world that hid it from you because of who you were.

He remembered when he first came out, how it was rocky. You were both young (sure, Nimona was old in terms of this story of her, but she was a young girl in physical form) and your lives had been several levels below rocky.

You and Nimona were all you had. He…god he realises, he was part of that too. For a moment, they let someone else in. Let someone else be a lifeline.

The words he’d said…he could see on Nimona’s face when she looked at you that something had changed in your dynamic as soon as he said it. She looked at you like she was a poison, and there was no antidote. He always remembered your words, about how at the beginning you would…oh, oh he knows what you mean now by what you wanted to do.

That pain because you couldn’t be free; you couldn’t completely be you. Oh no. Oh god.

He finds his sword. The thing that started him on this path. A path that led him to you both. Two spirited, loyal people.

He then feels the ground shake. He looks to the tv. He knows who that is. He knows who is on one last run.

“Good Gloreth,” he says, before running out of the door, just hoping that he isn’t too late. That he can make this right. As right as he can, anyway.

As for you, you try all you can to get Nimona’s attention, and she only flies away. God, you hate it; you’ve never really been out to this part of the walled off city before. You don’t know where she would go. You go to the town. There’s an abandoned building you went to one time when at a low. Nimona saved you that day, flying up to you and sitting with you. It must’ve been hours, but she managed to get you down and home. Sure, that location changed. But Nimona was a constant. She was family. She was home. She was security; always there for a pep talk or defence. You were always there with a plan or a way out. She’d always follow them, executing them to a T. You just worked.

You affirmed each other. Any doubts you’d talk about. You’d clean swap clothes, steal some if they didn’t fit or felt wrong. Tag areas with different names, but the same style so everyone knew it’s was you.

You feel a rumble as you reach the top of the building. A dark, shadowy creature, makes its way into town. Stomping over things, but not hitting anything. The only time it does is when it’s shot, screeching out in pain as it falls down.

You know who it is. You recognise a part of the scream.

It’s Nimona.

You look down the building, a hell of a drop. You see more of the flying vehicles going for her. Quickly, you do some calculations. You take a few steps back. Don’t get yourself wrong, you’re not in the healthiest of mindsets right now. If you miss, it’s a big drop, and then…well, whatever comes next. But, you have to try this. You have to try and protect your family as best you can. So, counting down quickly, you run.

You jump.

You land right on one of the vehicles. The guard is too shocked to really do anything. So, you push him with all your might, and he falls, but catches himself. You just focus on the controls of this thing. Not that many. It’s simple, but effective. It works.

So, despite some near crashes, you sort of get the hang of this thing. You use it to shoot at the attackers hurting Nimona. Some fire back at at you, others dodge and keep going at this person they decided needs to be put down for the benefit of the people.

You try your most, even get lucky, but there’s a lot of carnage going on; all their own doing.

You see, however, what Nimona is making a bee line for. The sharp end of a sword that was pointed at her so long ago.

You race forward, not even noticing your previous guard friend managing to climb back up. He wrestles with you for the controls. Once again sending you pretty much into things. However, he then pulls the breaks, but catches you before you fall. He’s not looking at you now, he’s looking at Nimona, who is stood in front of the sword, white, beating heart out.

“NO!” You cry, sending the vehicle forward once again. You get to the sword, jumping off it. The guard tries to stop you, but just misses.

“Stop —“ he calls. But, a new voice stops him.

“They’re with me!” Ballister, “they’re with me.”

He looks at you; so many apologies and silent words being sent at you at once.

You nod, “later,” you say, before running to save your sister. He follows. You both hold her back. She looks down at you.

Ballister apologises to her as well. She looks to you.

“Please don’t,” is all you can say, “I need my sister. I need my sister,” you say, repeating it as your tears finally leak.

She changes back, and you both catch her. She looks a mess, beaten to high hell, but alive.

“I love you too,” she says to you as the three of you hug. You pull back, looking at her with elation -she’d always shown it, never said it; but you did always, sort of selfishly, wanted to hear her say it – and she chuckles tiredly and brings you into a hug of just the two of you, “I need my sibling in my life too. Besides, you rebelled completely against them,” she says, having seen you on the roof and your stunt, “guess I could do something a bit different, yeah?”

You chuckle, tightening the hug. It feels right. Like pieces of a puzzle coming together. Ballister joins, and it mostly feels complete.

A hug of a family. Of people who love and accept each other.

People soon start running again, and you all see a giant cannon aimed directly at you all. You all look at the citizens, knowing it will hurt them as well.

“No –“ you say, looking to Nimona, knowing what she is planning.

She smiles, however; her mind is mind up.

She kisses you on the forehead, “I love you,” she mumbles, before giving Ballister a wink, “take care of them for me, Boss.”

“Nimona,” Ballister says, trying to stop her. To try find another way.

However, “we know I’m fast enough to stop that thing,” she says, “and we’re wasting too much time. I get to punch someone with a punchable face, like really hard,” she then looks back to you, and sees you about to break again, “hey,” she says, cupping your face in her hands, “I’ll always be here,” she puts her hand on your chest, “you’ve got this. You’re gonna build a new, better, world.”

With that, she turns into a phoenix, and flies right into the cannon. The explosion rocks the wall, creating a massive gap in it. What does it show? It shows that the outside world is beautiful, that they had anything to fear. There is danger there, but also beauty. So much beauty.

Ballister and you go down to try and find Nimona, instead you only find red specs flying around.

You curl up into a ball, letting out sobs.

Ambrosius comforts Ballister, but saw how you were with the guardsman above. Granted in glimpses, but given your friendship with Nimona, your distrust of this system that he too is now questioning is understandable. So, he lets Ballister take his time before bringing you into a hug as you both cry for your fallen friend.

Some time passes, and you are all called heroes. You move in with Ballister, and your friendship rebuilds. He becomes this role model to you of perseverance and light. Softness and love. He becomes a sort of parental figure. He supports you when you stumble, and you do the same for him.

Ambrosius respects your boundries. He’s a nice person, even if you have your many issues with the system. He listens, like actually listens to them, and does what he can to set them right. He knows it will take time, but he knows you’ll appreciate the effort.

It’s slow going with him, but he is sweet. He’s kind. So, you are warming up to him. And he’s getting to know you. And, you do have to admit, him and Bal are sweet.

One day, when you’re in home alone, Bal and Ambrosius out on a date, you hear something. It’s like the wind, but that’s not possible as it’s a peaceful day. You then turn, seeing a glare of light. It gets brighter and brighter —

And then it stops. You lower your hand, and drop your bowl of popcorn. It doesn’t break, but the effect is there.

“Hey, champ,” you hear her say.

And you barrel right into Nimona’s awaiting arms. She chuckles, spinning you around before putting you back on the ground, “oh, look at you!” She says, turning your head with her hands, noting the subtle changes to your style and your looks, “you look so good!”

You chuckle, before going in for another hug. She hugs you back just as tightly.

She shuts her eyes, hoping to hold this moment in her mind forever; just as you are as well.

She pulls back, then looks to the TV, “what you watching, squirt?” She asks. You grab her hand, and pull her to it, hopping over it, which she mirrors on the other side, before now sharing the blanket with her and handing her the bowl and filling it up with more popcorn.

You hit play, and both watch the TV.

Bal comes back, and does a double take when he sees you both. It’s like a mirror version of the last time he saw you asleep on her lap, hand going through your hair again.

“Oh, hey, Boss,” she says, “just figured I’d pop in, say ‘hi’ and all that.”

Ballister can only laugh, tears of happiness forming in his eyes.

“Hi,” he says, holding his arms open.

“Hey,” she says, hugging him.

The family is complete.

Y/N and Nimona the siblings; and Balister and Ambrosius the parental/older siblings. The label isn’t exactly exact, but sometimes labels aren’t. They fluctuate.

But the love, just as the person, is still there. Still them. Still have all that love and hope inside of them.

Some people like labels, some don’t.

Either way, you all fit together. You all know what you are.

Family. And a family who aren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

#nimona x reader #Nimona imagine #platonic reader #platonic reader insert #platonic imagine #Nimona x platonic reader #Nimona x platonic!reader #Nimona x Best Friend Reader #Nimona x Sibling Figure Reader #reader insert #Nimona Reader Insert

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consistencynevermether · 7 months

Text

Breaking down walls- Astarion x reader

Astarion x "uses humor to cope" reader, second person POV, 1.4k words, gn reader

tw- Mentions of Cazador, nothing else really?

a/n- ive been so obsessed with this little dude i love him sm. this is my first time writing fanfic online so any advice is welcome :)

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You had never been good at genuine emotions. It was always so much easier to joke about such things, as a way to make people feel less shitty about their situation than to actually talk about the reality of things.

It’s what you had done with Karlach, making up all sorts of outrageous stories about the fun you and your best friend could get into once she was free from the furnace that burned inside of her. Even though deep down you had no idea how to free her from the flames.

You had done it with Gale, making up jokes about his stereotypical “wizards tower” whenever he was feeling down about Mystra. Even though deep down you had no idea how he was supposed to cope with what she demanded of him.

It was easy to joke. To make people feel good and laugh for a short amount of time. That’s what you told yourself.

But the truth was, the alternative was hard. Feelings, reality, genuine bonds, they all meant you had to put down your walls. And the other person had to do the same. And deep down, you feared letting down your walls for someone, only for them to keep theirs up.

It was probably why you liked Astarion so much. While you put up a front of jokes, he puts up a front of flirty advances. Both of you knew you were putting on an act, yet neither minded. Neither dared try to climb the other's wall.

And so the two of you formed a bit of a routine, he would flirt, and you would tease. Both of you dancing around how you really felt like leaves fluttering in the wind. A subtle glance there and a stray brush of the fingers here made you think, or maybe hope, that he really felt something for you. Just a little. Or maybe that was wishful thinking on your part.

But he’d never seen the sadness in your eyes when he would say those sweet words to you, both knowing he didn’t mean them. And if you had any say in it, he never would. It was better that way. Easier. Safer. And you’d be damned if you ruined the current relationship you had with him. Because at least you got to be close. A few genuine words among a sea of deception was far better than him shutting you out completely. Better savor what little you can have than lose it all right?

That had been your mantra, right up until that night.

You had had a bout of insomnia the night before, and so you had offered to take the first watch tonight. You'd hoped staying up extra late meant that after your watch you would instantly crash and hopefully fix your sleep schedule a little.

It had started a little before midnight, you had heard Astarion mumbling something under his breath, tossing and turning. You had heard somewhere that elves only sleep for about 4 hours, so you figured it was best to leave him be. He’d be up soon anyway.

And that plan worked fabulously. For about 5 minutes until the mumbles became more like cries for help. You knew what, or rather who he was dreaming about, and it hurt to see him in so much pain.

Lifting yourself up from the rock you were seated on, you made your way to shake him awake, only for Astarion to shoot upright as you were about to grab his shoulder.

Your eyes met, only inches apart, your face filled with mild shock and his with horror.

Quickly recovering, you took a step back, giving him proper space so as to not add to his obvious terror. Unfortunately for you, trying to get away meant stumbling over your own crouched form and landing on your rear with a yelp.

For a second you both sat there, you not daring to even breathe too loudly. while he looked at you in slight confusion, though that was mostly covered by the blinding terror still on his face.

You sat there in silence for a few more moments, before your brain finally kicked in and you realized you needed to say something, now. Preferably without sounding like a complete lunatic, freak, or wackjob.

“I-“

you open your mouth to speak, but Astarion beats you to it, his velvety voice cutting through your uncertain, cracking tone.

“You know, you’re not the first person I’ve left speechless, although normally it’s for quite a different reason.”

Astarion's tone was playful, but the slight shake in his voice was obvious. Once again, you couldn’t see beyond the walls he had built.

“Anyways love, sorry for disturbing your watch. Feel free to go b-“

“I was thinking of what to say.”

Your sudden interruption earned an eyebrow raise from the pale elf.

“That hard for you darling? Maybe because you’re stunned by how beautiful I look when asleep?”

He was giving you a way out. A way to laugh this all off and pretend like it never even happened the next morning. If it were any other time you might have taken it. If you didn’t see the fear in his eyes. If you didn’t see the way his hands were still shaking. If deep down, you didn’t want to break down your walls for him.

Before you could think better of it, you opened your mouth.

“I could say that Cazador can’t hurt you anymore. That you're safe here. But you're clearly hurting, so that isn’t true.”

Now it was Astarion’s turn to look shocked. He hadn’t mentioned the dream was about Cazador but he didn’t have to. You knew all the same. He looked like he wanted to say something, to object maybe, but if you didn’t say what you wanted to say now you may never do it again. So you spoke again before he could.

“I could say that I’m going to rip that bastard limb from limb for you, but-“

You shrug and gesture vaguely to the camp around you. The supplies you all had managed to scrounge together, and your weary companions sleeping silently nearby

“We don’t exactly have a plan now, do we? Hells we can’t even figure out how to be rid of this damn tadpole. So saying that’s definitely out, nobody wants to hear empty promises”

A dry bark of laughter escaped Astarion,s lips, probably out of shock from your brutal honesty, but you weren’t done yet.

You opened your mouth one more time, voice shaky but eyes locked onto his all the same.

“I could-

I could tell you that I don’t know everything about your past. About what all he did to you. But I do know that whatever your future holds, I will be there. I will stand beside you and I will not leave. No matter what you choose I will support you. I will stay. And you will not go back Astarion. You will never go back under him. Not while I breathe. Not when you can still fight. You won’t do this alone, I swear that to you.”

And just like that you had broken down your walls. There were no jokes, no double meanings, no way out of it. Because despite the fear, you wanted to be seen. And you wanted to see him too. Not the act that he put up, but the real genuine version of him, scars and all.

Astarion looked at you in silence, it was his turn to be rendered speechless. Despite all your bravado before, this was terrifying. Honestly, jumping into a pit of hungry manticores seemed more appealing than this current conversation. You looked down at the ground, unable to hold his gaze any longer. A million thoughts ran through your mind, but no matter what you wouldn’t take it back. You couldn’t go back to stealing glances at him and smiling at his honeyed words, secretly wishing he’d meant them. Not again, you just ca-

A cool hand against yours stopped your train of thought right in its tracks.

Long, slender, Pale fingers wrapped around yours. And your mind went silent.

You whipped your head up to Astarion, but he wasn’t looking your way. His eyes were focused on the horizon, not even stealing a glimpse in your direction. But he gently weaved your fingers together more. His grasp was firm, yet still slightly shaking.

A crack in his wall. A start. A glimpse at the real Astarion you so desperately wished to see.

You sat together in silence. Your hands never left each other's grasp, not until you were eventually overtaken by sleep.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion romance #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x mc #bg3 astarion #bg3 spoilers #baldurs gate 3 astarion #astarion fic

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orpheusredux · 2 years

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Ride the Lightning

Summary: Eddie is hanging out in his girlfriend's bedroom when he discovers something... naughty and delightful.

Rating: NC17

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Reader. Established relationship

Warnings: Very, very smutty. No Minors! 18+ only. Canon compliant.

A/N: I have been writing this is fits and starts for weeks, but I just couldn't stop. I meant it to be a quick and dirty little drabble about a boy, and girl and her vibrator, but then I went and got feelings all over it and it turned out way longer than I intended too. Please consider reblogging, it really helps. Also, this way for my AO3 and my masterlists. 5433 wds

“Baby… what’s this?”

You look up from where you’re lying on your tummy on your bed reading a trashy romance novel to see your boyfriend of six months holding…

“Oh my God, Eddie! Put that back!”

…Your vibrator.

You met at a punk show in Indianapolis in the depths of Winter. Eddie was working the door, and when you walked up late to meet your pals who were already inside, he’d looked you up and down, given you a wrist stamp, and a wink, and ushered you in without asking for a dime.

It was almost as if he’d known the way to your heart was free gigs.

Later he’d “bumped into you” at the bar and bought you a drink. Then you bought him one. Then there were shots with the band. The next thing you knew the two of you were back at your apartment, sprawled across your ratty old sofa, his tongue in your mouth and your hand in his pants. You’d been dating ever since.

Being with Eddie was both delightfully easy, and head-fuckingly bizarre at the same time.

First of all, he was a metaller, and you’d only ever dated punks, stoners and on one less than stellar occasion, a party guy from California who wore pastel exclusively. You were not prepared for the level of energy Eddie brought to your relationship, the earnestness and often kind of confronting honesty. He told you he loved you three months in, and then proceeded to spend the next three months showing just how much.

“I learned the hard way not to fuck around,” he told you once, when you’d pressed him on how he could tell someone he loved them so easily. “I know for a fact you don't always get that tomorrow you're putting things off till. You know?”

Which brings you to the second thing: Eddie was from Hawkins, that town down state that had caught fire and burned to the ground - like the whole town. They called it Indiana’s Centralia, now, after that town out East that’d been burning for 30 years? That was Hawkins. Everyone had been evacuated and there was still a danger zone three miles deep around the place.

Eddie talked about it sometimes, not a lot, but enough for you to know he wasn’t over what had happened to him there. All you knew was he’d seen some shit, been badly hurt and never wanted to go back. Except… as much as he hated the place, as much as it scared him and he never wanted to see it again, it was like he knew one day he’d have to.

It was eerie, honestly.

He never took off his shirt, either. Not even in bed. You’d felt that the skin on his ribs and chest wasn’t entirely smooth, and once in bed he’d rolled over in his sleep and you’d glimpsed some shiny pink skin at his waist. You knew it had been bad, you knew there’d been fire, but those scars looked… well, they didn't look like burn scars. They almost looked like... well, it was silly what you'd thought. Besides, it had been dark and what the fuck did you know, anyway?

Glimpsing them hadn’t made you any less curious about him, but it did make you stop trying to get him to take his shirt off in bed.

You didn’t know how to tell him that he was safe with you, that he was the best boyfriend you’d ever had. Kind, considerate, thoughtful; that you thought it was quick, sure, but maybe you were falling in love with him.

He’d introduced you to his only family, his uncle Wayne, who lived in Wyoming now, but came to visit him a lot, and the guys from his band - Gareth, Jeff and Dave - Corroded Coffin.

He shared a place with them in Speedway, you'd stayed there a few times. You loved the guys, really you did, but it was kind of a dump, so you spent a lot of time together at your studio on Canal Walk.

He wasn’t perfect - he could be impulsive, your dad worried about his “fiscal stability”, and for someone with so many secrets, he sure was nosey.

Which was why he was currently standing in your bedroom holding your goddamned vibrator with a look on his face like he’d just won the sexual lottery.

In his defense - not that he deserved any - you are the one who left the draw open, which was practically an invitation to pry as far as Mister Sticky Beak here was concerned. But still, a girl could keep some secrets, couldn’t she?

You leap off the bed and make a grab for it - or try to - before he can push the little black button on the base of the thing.

Eddie, being Eddie, holds it above his head, just out of your reach and says, “Now now, let's not be hasty,” as you try vainly to grab it.

“Eddie,” you whine and consider elbowing him in the ribs - but the other thing that glimpse of his scars has given you is a healthy respect for his body. You’d rather die than hurt him. You’ll have to resort to pouting and pleading instead. “Give it back. That’s private.”

You give him a pointed look and hope he’ll pick up what you’re putting down. Naturally he doesn’t.

“Is it though?” He leers at you, trying not to laugh right in your face. “I mean, I am sort of in charge of delivering the orgasms around here now, aren’t I?”

You bark a laugh, despite yourself. “Oh, who are you, again? Cruise director of the love boat? My orgasms are my business, mister!”

“That’s not what you were saying last night,” he says slyly, before putting on the worst - also the most annoyingly accurate - impersonation of you in the throes of passion, pitching his voice just below a falsetto squeak. “Oh Eddie! Oh Eddie, you’re gonna make me… I’m gonna… Oh, oh, oh!”

Scars be damned, you poke him right in the armpit, and he drops the vibe with an “oof”. You grab it before it can hit the ground, and make to run away with it, but he grabs you - playfully - around the waist and mock-wrestles you onto your bed. You land on top of him, both of you breathless and laughing by now, the vibe clutched tightly in your fist, up by his head.

His hands slip down you back, over your hips and he grabs two good handfuls of your ass. In the six months since you started fooling round he has never missed an opportunity to show you how much he loves touching you, kneading your flesh, tracing all your curves. He likes it almost as much as he seems to like being touched by you. It’s one of the things you adore the most about him - he has a healthy respect and fulsome admiration for your big, bouncy body.

“OK,” he says. “Let’s settle this like gentlemen. Let’s play a game…”

You squint at him, not trusting him one inch - you trust him completely, but you also do. Not. Not one inch.

“Like gentlemen, old sport! What what,” you reply, in a mock English accent.

“Let’s play Quid, Pro, Quo.”

Now, you’ve never played a game called Quid, Pro, Quo before, but he just took you to see Silence of the Lambs last week - you don’t care what anyone says about psychological thriller, that was a dang horror film in disguise - so you think you have a pretty good idea what it means.

“Ew, Eddie, I am not role playing sexy serial killers with you,” you say, and put up a bit of a struggle to get off him.

That really makes him laugh, but instead of letting you get away, he wraps his arms around you and gives you a squeeze.

“Oh Jesus Christ, no. That does nothing for me, either,” he says with a theatrical shudder, that only serves to rub you forcefully all over his body, your soft squishy boobs against the hard, warm planes of his chest. It makes something delicious tingle deep in your core. How’s that for quid pro what-the-fuck-ever, you get plenty of pleasure and enjoyment out of his body, too.

“No, in my version of the game, we take turns offering each other something we think the other might want, and if they do, they have to…”

He lifts a hand off your derriere and waves it around suggestively.

“What like, I offer you a BJ, and if you want one - “

“If!” Eddie snorts.

“ - you have to offer me ‘something of equal or greater value’?”

“Yeah,” he says with a grin. “Something like that. And then you can counter it with something of greater value again.”

“Like a sexy version of ‘chicken’?”

“Well, I was trying to make it classy, but we can go with ‘Sexy Chicken’ if that works. My idea, so I start…”

“Nuh huh, Big Fella,” you say, tweaking his chin with the hand not currently holding a goddamned vibe. “Ladies first… OK, what will you give me to get the hell off you.”

“Oh no,” Eddie replies, nose scrunched up. “I wouldn’t even give you a dime for that. You’ll have to stay exactly where you are.” He grabs your ass again, and kind of settles in with a sigh.

“Ungh, OK,” you say, rolling your eyes. “What if I… take off my bra.”

“Without getting off me?”

“Without getting off you, you perv.”

He laughs and then bites his lip considering. “OK, I will give you a foot rub. Both feet. On… Thursday, straight after your shift at the coffee shop.”

You gasp. You work nights at the campus beanery and your feet are routinely absolutely battered by the end of the night.

Once, early in your courting, Eddie had been waiting for you at your place when you came home from one of those shifts. He’d waited for you to kick off your shoes, and slump in your favorite chair, before kneeling down next to you, and starting to knead your instep, heels, calves and the pads of your toes. Without being asked.

No offence to the many wonderful orgasms you’d shared with each other since you met, but that massage had been better than sex.

Now that he was working the door at the club more regularly, Eddie wasn’t around when you finish work much anymore, so this offer was kind of a big deal.

You start reaching behind yourself to unclasp your bra without saying another word - only to then realize you are still holding the Goddamned vibrator. You chuck it up the bed by the pillows, and he grins down at you cheekily.

“I’m on a goddamned promise, Munson,” you say, from somewhere inside your tee shirt.

“Yeah, yeah, you know I’m good for it.”

His eyes slip over your shoulders and arms as you wriggle and twist, pulling your straps off under your tee shirt and pulling the bra out the sleeve. Through two layers of denim you feel his cock twitch when your unfettered boobs press against his torso. He bites his tongue and sweeps his hands up and down your arms. His gaze is just as warm and soft.

“Ta dah!” you say, flinging the bra away. You’re immediately jostled a bit by his laughter. “My turn again?”

“Your turn,” Eddie agrees.

You take your time thinking, trying to remember some throw away snippet of kinkiness he’d hinted at, or a time when he’d wanted to try something, but you hadn’t. Finally, you mind settles on a movie you’d watched together one rainy afternoon that had ended in a mind blowing fuck on the floor of your en suite bathroom.

“I will let you do that - you know - that thing, from 9 1/2 Weeks.”

Eddie goes very still. “OK, I need to be clear here, are you talking about the striptease?”

“Nope… the other thing.”

“With the - the ice and the -”

“And the blindfold.”

“Holy fuck,” Eddie said, eyes like saucers.

You cross your hands on top of his chest and rest your chin on the back of them. “I play to win, Munson,” you say, all cocky.

He laughs at you. “Oh my God, what have I got that would match that?”

“What indeed?”

He looks at you thoughtfully, reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear tenderly, and then in the smallest voice you’ve ever heard him use, he says, “The next time we fuck - I’ll take off my shirt. I’ll take it off. For you.”

It’s so not what you were expecting, so not where you thought this teasing, titillating game was going, that for a second you’re too shocked to say anything. Your voice just deserts you, until finally…

“Baby, you don’t have to do that.”

“No, I know,” he says with a sigh, his eyes slipping away from yours, to focus on a tendril of your hair he’s playing with. “But I also know it’s weird - ”

You do push away from him then, because you’ve suddenly got this horrible weight in the pit of your stomach. Did you give him that idea? Had you made him feel pressured?

“It’s not weird,” you say. He sits up too, as if he’s going to argue the point. So you stop him, with a hand to his chest.

“It’s not weird,” you say, firmly. “It’s private. It’s none of my business, it’s - you don’t have to tell me or show anything you don’t want to.”

He covers your hand on his chest with one of his own.

“But what - what if I want it to be your business,” he says. “God, that sounded way better in my head. I mean - “

You turn your hand, take hold of his and squeeze, nodding for him to go on.

“I don’t want us to have secrets anymore. I feel like I’m keeping something from you every time we fuck, and I don’t want to any more.”

“Then I’m happy for you to tell me anything you want to tell me. But Eddie, you have to know -”

His eyes are so big and limpid in the dim light of your room and you just - you don’t want any secrets any more either.

“You must know I l-love you,” you say finally, tripping over the biggest four letter word in the language.

He smiles, warmly, but you can’t help noticing there’s sadness there too as he scoots up the bed.

“Sweetheart,” he says, reaching behind his head to pull the back of his shirt over his shoulders and off. “You really do play to win.”

The tee shirt sails off the side of the bed and then there’s just him, his arms out wide, head lowered so you can’t really see his face, just his mottled torso and the top of his dear, beloved head.

You knew it was going to be bad, but it’s actually even worse than that. He’s not looking at you, so you have time to school your face into a placid, relaxed gaze, to not to show what you’re really feeling, because you know the shock and horror would hurt him, even if he pretended it didn’t.

Now you understand exactly why he’d never shown you before; why it took him half a year to trust you with this. You’re honest enough with yourself to admit if you’d seen the ruin of his chest in the first few blushy weeks of your romance, you might have run for the hills.

Low, on his right side, there are gouges - not burns - angry-looking welts of pinkish, reddish skin that bulge and buckle like an infection that’s healed badly. Dotted around this scar are little rosy contusions, like blood has burst under the surface and congealed there. Deep scores - healed, but puckered - rake across his hip. They look like they could pop open again at the slightest provocation.

You can’t keep back the gasp that comes when you take in the extent of the damage to his right side, though. There’s almost nothing there but scar; no nipple, or curve of skin over fat, muscle and bone. Instead it’s just a horribly twisted rent in the flesh where those parts of his anatomy should be.

Without thinking, you reach out - to what? Sooth? Map? Verify? You don’t know - only to pull back before you can touch him. He catches your hand, pulling it towards his ruined pec, flattening your fingers, gently, like he’s trying not to spook you, and pressing them to the skin.

“It’s OK,“ he says. “It doesn’t hurt. It’s healed. It’s actually…I was going to try and say it’s not as bad as it looks. But, ah, it is - it was - exactly as fuckin’ bad as it looks.”

“Oh Eddie,” you whisper, because there’s really nothing else you can say. The skin under your fingertips is warm and hard, feels rubbery and artificial. You feel what’s left of his muscles flex a little under it.

He lets go of your hand and takes hold of your shoulders.

“You can’t tell anyone,” he says, urgently, whispering your name rather than one of his many pet names for you, squeezing your shoulders for emphasis. “Everything they say about Hawkins, the - the fire, the chemical spills. It’s all bullshit. I’ll tell you all of it, one day, if you want. But, it’s a long story. Can we - another time?”

You nod as if you understand, but you don’t. You’re not sure you ever will, or even want to.

“Do they - can you feel me?” You ask, sliding your hands so gently over the scars, touching. mapping each one.

“Yeah, I can feel you,” he says. “I always feel you.”

With your hand still on his chest, you kneel up, straddling his thighs, press yourself closer to him, leaning in to kiss to his mouth, slowly and thoroughly, so he knows - so he can be certain - this knowledge changes nothing except to make things more real, more sure between you.

“I'm so sorry this happened to you. And I am so glad you survived.” You hear your voice catch on that last bit, feel the tears choking up at the back of your throat.

He makes a soothing sound and wraps his arms around you.

“I was mad about it, for a long time,” he says, his voice muffled where his face is pressed into your neck. “But - this is going to sound fucking insane - everything that happened brought me here.”

He leans back and looks up into your eyes. You cup his dear face in your hands.

“I don’t think I’d change a fucking thing - not even losing my goddamned nipple - if it meant I didn’t get to have you.” His voice is gentle, soothing, and so full of love he’ll never need to say the words if he just keeps talking to you like that.

You kiss him then, because you’re not sure what will happen if you try to speak. You don’t want to cry all over him. He’d only end up taking care of your messy feelings, when you’re pretty sure he’s got big enough feelings of his own to deal with.

You lean back and smoothing your hands over his bare shoulders and back to his neck, you say, “so, I guess that makes it my turn again, huh?”

He barks one of his big braying guffaws, wraps his arms around you and squeezes.

“Oh, we’re still playing? OK, OK, sure, babycakes. Whaddaya got?“

Out of the corner of your eye you catch a glimpse of that goddamn vibe sitting by your pillow. The idea pops into your head before you’ve really thought about the logistics, but once it’s there, you almost can’t get it out. Could you? Should you? Really?

You pull yourself off his lap and crawl up the bed, collapsing onto your back, the pillows under your head. Eddie twists to watch, and his eyes go soft when you pick up the vibe and turn it over in your hands.

“What if I… ride the lighting, right here, right now, while you watch?”

You both stare at each other for a second, until Eddie cracks, snickering like a naughty school boy.

“Ride the what now?”

“Ride the - the lightning, baby,” you say, giggling and waving the vibe. “That’s what they call it right? ‘Cause it’s electrical? “

“Oh my God, seriously? What the hell have you been reading?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?

“I’m pretty damned sure I would,” Eddie says, bemused. He crawls up the bed after you to lie on his side looking down at the little pink vibe in your hands.

He reaches out, and thumbs the little black button on the bottom. The little thing starts up with a buzz that makes the breath catch in both your chests. Eddie hmms, and runs the tips of his finger over the soft, curved edge. You know he’s picturing it, picturing you spread out for him, pleasuring yourself while he watches.

“OK,” he says, lifting the vibe out of your hands, and gently rolling it over the curve of your breast. It feels so good, even through your tee shirt, you can’t help squirming a little at the sweet, tingling hum of it. “I see your offer of a wanton display of feminine lust, and I raise you… me fucking you with this - where does it - oh, I see where that goes - me fucking you with this, while we both watch.”

“Mmmmhmmm.”

Without saying a word, you start pushing your sweatpants down your legs and trying to wriggle out of your tee shirt at the same time, which ends up getting you all tangled, so Eddie has to put the vibe down and help you get the shirt off.

“Leave your panties on,” he says, breathless as he lies on his back to thumb open the button on his own jeans and start kicking them off.

“I think we messed up the game,” you say, as you scoot back on the bed, and watch Eddie pulling off his boxers and socks. “I think I got too many turns.”

“Hmmm?” Eddie hums, thoroughly distracted by your breasts and thighs, and his eyes are fixed on the damp patch you can feel slowly spreading across the crotch of your white panties. He’s not thinking about the game or his scars, or Hawkins. Just you. The joy floods through you like sweet honey in your veins, warm and delicious. You get to have him, have this. Fuck, yes. Life, God, the Universe - whatever - may suck ass sometimes, but sometimes, it’s also this good.

He guides you to lie back as he slides up next to you. His cock, half hard and leaking, is pressed against your hip as he leans over you to kiss your mouth. Then there’s a click, and a hum as the vibe starts again. Still kissing you he starts to roll it, so gently from your collarbone, over the swell of your breast, to your nipple.

“Eddie,” you hiss, arching your back. He pulls away from you, to turn his head and look down the length of your torso to the stiff, pink peak of your tit.

He hums again, almost to himself, like he’s considering where to go next. When it seems like he’s decided, he drags the vibe slowly across your sternum, to your other nipple, and rolls the buzzing silicone over your tender flesh. He looks down at your chest.

“God, baby, look at these pretty little titties,” he says, biting his plush lower lip.

You look down at yourself, but the sight of him holding the buzzing tip of the vibe to your quivering nipple is too much. You mewl, and grip the sheets beneath you in your fists, pushing yourself into the warmth the vibe is creating.

“Do you - oh, God - do you like them, Eddie?”

He leans down to suck the stiff peak of your other nipple into his soft, wet mouth and lets it go with an obscene pop.

“Oh Princess, you know I do.”

You’re just holding on as the buzzing against your tender flesh starts to verge on pain. But it’s the kind of pain that shoots right through your core to your aching cunt, makes it flutter and clench.

“Fuck, Eddie,” you whine, arching your back and rubbing your thighs together, before letting your legs fall open and tilting up your hips.

“Hmmmm, so sensitive,” he says, his voice deep and rough. He tilts his face again to look down your body to your sex and his hair brushes across your cheek like a butterfly’s kiss. “Oh ho ho, what do we have here?“

“Please, baby," you whine, canting your hips again. “Please.”

“Needy girl,” he sing-songs, and starts dragging the vibe across your sternum and down, over your belly to the edge of your white cotton panties. “Oh no, you’ve made a bit of a mess here, Princess.”

You know that by “mess” he means the damp patch. You’ve been wet since he started this game, and now you’re practically flooding. Any other time you’d be embarrassed about that, and the noises you're making as he rolls the vibe across your pubic bone and your mons, but you just can’t summon an ounce of shame right now. All you want is that vibe where it belongs, buried in your pussy, or on your clit. You fucking want it.

“Please, Eddie, don’t tease me,” you say, and your voice sounds so shaky, you’re shivering so hard your teeth are almost chattering.

He slips the vibe over the thin cotton, to the damp patch. He rolls the vibe around pressing in. It almost makes you jerk, like he’s touched a live wire to your core.

“Oh yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,” you start chanting, pressing your hips up into that hot buzz. “Fuck, yes. Right there, oh, oh Eddie.”

Your head is thrown back, eyes clamped shut as you chase that feeling, fisting the sheets under you. You can feel it building so you chase it. If he keeps this up you’ll come just like this.

“Hold on there, sweetheart,'' he says, not removing the vibe, but easing some of the pressure. “We’ll get you there, but not too soon, OK?”

You can’t help the whine that follows. It sounds so needy and pathetic. Again, you’d be embarrassed, but it’s all you’re capable of right now. It makes Eddie chuckle, and worse, lift the vibe away from you altogether.

“Edd-ie,” you pout. But he just taps your hip and starts to slowly peel your panties down. You lift your ass long enough for him to get them out from under your butt, and then he’s drawing them down your thighs, and calves, over your feet and off. And then, like the wild goddamned animal he is, he smooshes them against his nose and mouth and breathes deep.

“Fu-uck, baby, you smell so good.”

You respond to his teasing by spreading your legs wide and slipping your fingers between your wet folds. “Yeah? How does it look, Daddy?” You ask him, as his eyes fix on your cunt.

He knows what a fucking buzz you get from him looking at your sex. You don’t know why, or what it means, but any time he looks at your pussy, you feel yourself get exponentially hotter, infinitely wetter. Part of you thinks you could just come from him watching you spreading while he tells you how good your little kitty looks, how much he wants it. Which is kind of what’s happening right now, God have mercy.

He throws your panties over his shoulder, and leans down to nose your hand out of the way and suck your little rose bud into his mouth. It’s kind of an awkward angle, but that just makes it feel even better, unexpected and strange.

“Taste fucking good, too,” he says, pulling off your clit, breathless and a little dazed. His cock, hard and red, is jutting up from his lap, the tip wet with pre-come. You want to suck it, but before you can ask for it, he rolls the vibe over your mons, and presses it hard, against the left side of your clit.

That really does make you jackknife up off the bed. You can feel the buzz everywhere, in everything, all at once. It’s humming in your cunt, your ass, even your nipples, it reverberates through your teeth and out the top of your head, where every single follicle is standing on end. There are thousand tiny bubble bursting under your skin, and you never want it to end.

“Fuck yeah, baby,” you hear Eddie say, as if from a distance. “Fuck yeah, fucking ride it.”

You realize there’s someone in the room wailing… it takes you a second to understand that that someone is you. You’ve got one hand fisted in the sheets, and the other is gripping Eddie’s knee. Your toes are curled into the blankets, and your eyes are clenched shut as the orgasm arcs through you like he’s just flicked the on switch and lit you up.

It seems to go on forever, every muscle in your body going into spasm for long, hot seconds of pleasure, until it slowly starts to ebb away.

You slap feebly at Eddie’s hand when it’s too much, when the intense pleasure has melded into a keen pain. He gently lifts the vibe away from you, thumbs the button and leans over to put it on your bedside table.

For a couple of minutes, you can’t open your eyes or move a muscle. It’s like all your bones have turned to jelly. You lie there, spread eagle, panting, your hand still gripping his thigh.

“Fucking hell, Eddie,” you whisper, finally. “Fucking hell.”

“Yeah?”

You peel open one eyelid to look at him, leaning by your side. “Yeah,“ you breathe, only just able to nod your head.

You attempt to sit up and turn to him. It’s a pretty pathetic attempt, all things considered and you end up sort of limply rolling towards him, the vision of that big, red, weeping cock of his is still fresh in your mind. “What about…”

He’s got one arm across his lap, covering his groin.

“Yeah, about that…”

“Oh my God, did you just bust a nut from watching me come?”

“You make sound so romantic,” he says wryly, reaching over the edge of the bed and snagging his Metallica shirt to cover his slowly deflating junk with.

“Eddie,” you say, reaching for him. “Baby, that is the hottest fucking thing that has ever happened to me.”

“Sure, sure,” he says, as he wipes up his lap and throws the tee shirt into the far corner of the room. But he lets you pull him on top of you, your loose, sweaty bodies sliding together a perfect fit.

“You’re just too… God,” he says, snuffling into the crook of your neck and wrapping his arms and legs around you and under you in a sticky, sexy bear hug. “Too fucking sexy. I had to bust.”

You both laugh, giddily.

Eventually he rolls off you, and leans up on his elbow, his tousled head resting on his palm as he looks down at you. He’s so lovely, those chocolate eyes, and his plush, beautiful mouth, even the road map of pain on his chest that leads all the way back into his past, all the way to you two here, in this bed… even that has a kind of raw beauty. He’s a survivor, your man.

“Eddie,” you say, reaching up to twine a lock of his hair around the finger. “I think I was wrong.”

He grunts a little as he leans over you to grab a pack of smokes from the bedside table. He pops two out and lights them both at the same time, like some Beatnik from the 60s, one for him and one for you.

He takes a lit smoke from between his lips and holds it out for you. You take it, wait for him to take his own out of his mouth and blow a plume of smoke over your heads, before you lean in and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Leaning back again, you take a drag, blow a plume of smoke of your own, and smile.

“Yeah,” you say, stretching languidly. “I think you are in charge of dispensing the orgasms ‘round here now.”

______

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therealcocoshady · 2 months

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Recovery - Chapter 15

In the following weeks, you saw Marshall often. You made a point not to avoid him, even though you were still a bit heartbroken over the fact that he was dating someone else. However, you tried not to let it show, and he probably didn’t notice anyway. You didn’t have too much information on Nicole or that date. To be honest, he didn’t seem too keen on sharing those details, and you weren’t really in the mood to ask either. Of course, if he decided to share, you’d be a good friend, but you didn’t really see the point in putting yourself in a position of being sad. You were only thankful that you hadn’t confessed your feelings to him. That would have been awkward to say the least. You got to spend time with him whenever you hung out at the studio (which was rather frequent) , when he visited Jamal and Talia or when you were invited to anything anyone from the group organized. The only thing that had really changed was that you were never alone and that you made a point of not being too close to him physically, but he didn’t seem to mind. You weren’t even sure he noticed any difference anyway… You thought it would be best not to be all over each other all the time. Once again, there was no point in setting yourself up for heartbreak. If he had asked that woman on a date, it clearly meant he didn’t like you as much as you thought he did, or as you hoped he would. On a Sunday afternoon, you joined everyone at Marshall’s to watch the latest Lions’ game on TV. Initially, you weren’t too keen on going, but Marshall had convinced you to come. For some reason, he was really intent on turning you into a football fan. You weren’t the sporty type and couldn’t really care less, but everyone would be there, so you figured that even though you may not really enjoy the game, you would enjoy the company.

When you arrived at his place with Talia and Jamal, you were greeted by Hailie, who you recognized from pictures Marshall had shown you.

Hi Hailie ! Talia said before giving her a quick hug.

Hey guys come in ! The game is about to start, she said.

She looked really good and, as you quickly looked at her, you could see she had inherited some of Marshall’s features. They looked a lot alike.

Hi, I’m Hailie, she introduced herself. I’m the daughter.

I’m Y/N, you replied politely. I’m Talia and Jamal’s roommate, you explained.

You entered the house and greeted everyone. Marshall was dressed casually, with black sweatpants and a Lions hoodie that brought out the blue in his eyes. He was painfully attractive and you tried not to stare too much. Everyone was sort of matching his outfit, as they were all wearing some Detroit Lions merch. You were the only one who didn’t. You were actually dressed in leggings, UGG boots and your hoodie from University.

You went to uni here ? Hailie asked as she saw the logo. I actually have the same hoodie !

Yeah. I’m a PhD student here, actually, you explained.

What are you studying ?

Communications. It’s my last year !

Are you kidding me ? She asked. One of my best friends is a PhD student in communications too ! His name is Josh. Do you know him ?

I do ! You said with a smile. We worked together on a paper last year. He is amazing !

The guy she talked about was very nice. He started his PhD work in the same year as you did and you had a blast working with him. He was by far one of the smartest persons you had ever met. And it didn’t hurt that he was really attractive as well. You and Hailie spent some time talking in the kitchen. As it turned out, you were the same age, born six months apart and had graduated the same year. You actually knew some of her friends and had attended a few of the same events and venues on campus, though you had never talked or noticed each other.

I can’t believe we never actually met before today, she said. We have probably crossed paths hundreds of times without knowing.

I know right ? That is so weird.

So, how come I have never seen you around here if you hang out with Dad and the whole team ? She asked with curiosity.

Well, I only started hanging out with Marshall and the studio crew recently, you explained. I moved in with Talia and Jamal a few months ago, after I broke up with my boyfriend.

It’s crazy, everyone seems to be breaking up, these days, she said. Josh broke up with his girlfriend of six months a couple weeks ago.

Oh ? I hope he’s ok, you said with a smile. Although I wouldn’t be too worried for him. He probably won’t be single for too long…

I know, right ? Do you guys get along ? She asked.

Yes, you said. I mean, we don’t really hang out too often, but we’ve worked together in the past and it was great. He is really nice too. I really like him. I think he might actually be the person I talk to the most, on campus.

We’re going for drinks to cheer him up tonight. You should come ! She offered.

Oh, I don’t want to intrude, you said with a giggle.

You won’t ! You guys know each other and… I’m not going to lie, you are totally his type, she added.

Good to know, you said as you blushed a bit.

I could gladly set you guys up on a date, she offered. If you’re single, that is.

Uh… sure, I guess that could be fun, you said. I think drinks tonight might be a good start.

The two of you kept on chatting for a while, and you couldn’t help but think that, if you had met earlier, you would have been the best of friends. After all, it wasn’t too surprising. She was a lot like her dad, only more cheerful. He entered the kitchen and smiled at you.

Glad to see the two of you are getting along, Marshall said with a smile as he grabbed a couple of drinks in the fridge.

We’re actually going for drinks tonight, Hailie said.

So now you’re stealing my friends, uh ? He asked his daughter.

Well Y/N and I do have friends in common, Dad. And I’m sure she’d rather hang out with people our age instead of old crones like you, she joked.

You have no idea, you said jokingly.

Very funny, Y/N, he said as he rolled his eyes. You girls better get to the living room, the game is about to start.

You sat down next to him as you watched the game. He tried to explain the rules of football to you and you tried your best to understand, but it was all a bit blurry to you. You understood what a touchdown was, but there was something about the yards that didn’t make sense to you. You silently cursed the Americans for their misunderstanding of the metric system. Still, you had to admit that the game was entertaining, as well as everyone’s passion for it. They seemed excited about every move the players made, and they were so involved you could have sworn they were part of the team, especially Marshall. He promised to take you to see an actual game, in person, so that you would finally get the hype. You agreed but didn’t really count on it. In a matter of weeks, he probably would take Nicole instead…

After the game, everyone hung out for a while. You were talking to Talia when he came to get you. You went for a walk in the garden.

So, you finally met Hailie, he said with a smile.

Yes, you said happily. Your daughter is really cool.

I knew you’d get along, he chuckled. Are you sure about going for drinks with her, though?

Do you have a problem with me hanging out with her ? You asked.

No, not at all, he said. It’s great you’re getting along. But, you know, you’re sober and she and her friends… they’re not. They’re responsible but still, I want to make sure you’ll be ok.

Worried much ? You said jokingly.

Well, yeah, he admitted. I know this shit can be hard. Plus, you know… I’ve been worried about your sobriety when we weren’t talking.

Really ? You asked surprised.

Of course. I mean, me talking about you overdosing… that was a shitty move, he said sheepishly. Especially a week after a relapse.

Well I think I did pretty well, you said with a smile. I don’t want you to worry. I think I’ll be ok. Plus, I’m often around alcohol, you know ? When there are events at university, stuff like that. So, really, I’m good.

Good then, he said before kissing your cheek. I’m proud of you, Y/N.

That evening, you joined Hailie and her friends for drinks. Josh was happy to see you and reconnect. The two of you talked a lot about your respective research and the struggles of being PhD students. The conversation was easy going and you really enjoyed the moment. Hailie and her friends were so nice too. For the first time in weeks, you found yourself forgetting about Marshall, even though it was ironic since you were hanging out with his daughter.

The night came to an end and you said goodbye to everybody, especially thanking Hailie for the invite. Josh walked you out of the restaurant to get a cab.

We should hang out more. I had a great night. Can I see you again ? He asked.

Sure. Feel free to come by my office on campus, you said with a smile.

I meant, like, on a date, he added.

We can grab coffee on Thursday if you want, you said before kissing him on the cheek and getting in the cab.

It’s a date, then.

He closed the door for you with a charming smile and you stared at him as the car started. You couldn’t contain your smile, on the way home.

From M : Having fun tonight ?

Reply to M : Yes. Made new friends and drank mocktails :) you ?

From M : Good. Hanging out in the studio with Dre. Working on a couple of songs. He flew in tonight, he’s going back to LA on wednesday.

You smiled as you read Marshall’s texts. Even on a weekend night, he was working. You couldn’t help but admire his work ethic and dedication.

Reply to M : Can’t wait to hear them.

From M : You can come to the studio on Thursday if you want. I’ll play them for you.

Reply to M : Can’t. I have a date :) Friday ?

Josh took you out for coffee and a walk for your first date and it was as if you were in a movie. The conversation, the hand-holding, the flirting and the kissing… it was perfect. You were giddy as you got home and told your friends everything. Talia was nothing but supportive. If anything, she was just as giddy as you. Jamal, on the other hand… he seemed unimpressed.

What about Marshall ? He asked.

What about him ? You and Talia asked at the same time.

You know damn well what I mean, Y/N, he said. There’s something between the two of you. You like him.

Yeah, I do, you said. I mean, he is amazing. But we’re good friends. That’s it.

Bullshit, Jamal said as he rolled his eyes. You aren’t fooling anyone.

I don’t know, Babe, Talia said. I mean, I thought there was something there too but don’t you think Em would have made a move by now ?

Right, you said.

Obviously, you hadn’t said anything about what happened between Marshall and yourself. Talia only knew what had happened during the first movie night, but that was it. The only things your friends knew, they got from watching your interactions.

I’ve known him for a while and he’s never cared for anyone like that, Jamal said as he shrugged. And you, Y/N… I’ve seen you around him. All… cuddly, and flirty and shit. Everybody can see it.

I think we’re missing the important question here : what do you want, Y/N ? Talia asked.

Look… maybe I was a little flirty, you admitted. But there’s NOTHING between Marshall and I. He doesn’t like me like that and that’s fine by me. On the other hand, Josh IS interested in me and is taking me on a dinner date on Saturday night.

It was true. As soon as your first date had ended, Josh had booked the next one. He seemed interested in you and not afraid to show it. It was something you liked, as it left no ambiguity as to whether or not he liked you. And you could definitely use some of that, instead of dwelling on Marshall...

On the next day, you visited Marshall at the studio after you were done with uni work, as planned. He was alone in the room when you arrived. Everyone else had already gone home.

Am I too late ? You asked after you greeted him.

It was unusual for you to see him alone in the studio.

All good. I wanted to stay a bit longer to listen to all of the tracks anyways, Marshall said. We have produced about thirty so far and I’m not sure about some of them.

You sat on the huge leather couch and listened as he played some of the tracks for you. You closed your eyes as you tried to focus.

Thoughts ? He asked after he had played about ten tracks.

I don’t have any, you said.

Well that’s not good, he mumbled.

He rolled his eyes and put his head back as he sighed.

What do you mean ? You asked.

I mean I played you about a third of what I have and it doesn’t even make you think of… anything ? Like, are they that bad ?

No, you said with a laugh. What I meant to say is that I know nothing about music. I wouldn’t know how to differentiate a good song from a bad one. That’s kind of your job, you know ?

Mmmh, he sighed, still not satisfied with the answer.

There are some tracks I like more than others, you said. But that doesn’t mean anything. What matters is your own opinion.

Which ones do you like ? He asked.

Do you really want my input ? You asked in disbelief.

It can’t hurt, he shrugged.

You went over the songs together, as you gave him your opinion on the beats or the lyrics. It was kind of haphazard, as you didn’t know the right words to use. He sometimes proceeded to correct you with a chuckle.

No, that’s not what « reverb » is.

No ? You asked in disbelief. You know… that kind of … sound and the way it goes ?

Yeah, no, I see, he said as he laughed lightly.

It’s crazy. It seems so easy for you, you said.

As you said… it’s my job, he replied with a smile. Like I probably wouldn’t know shit about your work.

Maybe, you said with a chuckle. I think you’d find it a bit boring.

Probably a bit, he admitted. But I know you’re crazy smart.

Believe me, as I’m writing, it feels like I’m unable to string two sentences together, you replied.

Maybe Jack could help you with that.

Who ?

You know… your date, Marshall said. You guys do the same thing, right ?

Ah. Josh, you corrected. I take it that you talked to Hailie ?

Josh, he repeated. Right. Yeah, Hailie might have told me a few things. You guys work in the same field, so maybe he would be able to help you ?

I don’t know about that. I have worked on a paper with him before but showing him my own work and for him to critique ? It’s kind of…

Intimate ?

Yeah.

He smiled in agreement.

So. Are you going to tell me how it went ? He finally asked.

I didn’t realize you were interested in my date, you replied with a smile.

I care about you, Y/N. You know that, Marshall said with a serious voice.

Well it went great. We went for coffee and a walk. We had a great talk. He held my hand. And he kissed me, once.

Once ? He asked in surprise. Just once ?

Yeah. It was a goodbye kiss.

He nodded in understanding. It was a bit weird for you to talk to him about your date. He looked in your eyes as he waited for you to say more.

What ? You asked with an awkward laugh. Want me to describe the kissing for you ?

I’m good, thanks, he said with a grin.

He’s taking me out tomorrow.

So soon ? Damn, he must really like you, Marshall commented with a chuckle.

Well, I am kind of a catch, you said jokingly.

Of course you are, he said with a smile.

He looked in your eyes and he got closer to you. It seemed as if he was about to add something when his phone rang. He looked away as he answered it.

Hey… thanks for calling. yeah, tomorrow is great for me… 7:00 ? … good. Me too. Bye.

He looked back at you.

Sorry, he said.

All good ? You asked.

Yeah. It was Nicole, he simply said, with a casual tone.

You stared at him and tried to prevent your emotions from showing.

I told you about my date. Do you want to tell me about yours ? You asked carefully.

I’m not sure there’s too much to say, he explained. Hailie set it up.

You let out an involuntary laugh.

Your daughter should really start matchmaking business.

You have no idea, he replied as he rolled his eyes. Ever since her mother and I got divorced for the second time, she has been meddling. I can’t count the number of times she tried to set me up with her friends’ single moms. I usually don’t let her but well… who knows ?

He laughed at the memory.

So… want to tell me more Nicole ? You asked.

Actually, I know her from… way back. Her daughters used to go to the same primary school as mine. I hadn’t seen her in years when we ran into her at the hospital. We ran into each other again a few days later when I was out with the girls and somehow Hailie got her to call me. She’s nice.

She’s really hot, you said.

I’m not commenting on that, he said as he rolled his eyes. Is Jack hot ?

Josh, you corrected.

Right. Is he ?

I’m not answering that, you replied with a grin.

You stared at each other and burst out in laughter. Somehow, it felt good to be able to talk to him about it.

So… you like this Nicole ?

She’s nice, he said.

I mean… she must be kind of cool if your own daughter thinks she’s good enough for you right ? You asked.

I guess. We’ll see how it goes. How about Ja- Josh, sorry. You like him ?

I do, you nodded. He is really smart. Kind, too. And… he is really hot, you added with a wink.

Oh yeah ?

Yup.

That’s cool, he said with a smile.

The both of you chuckled.

For real though, how do you feel about dating ? He asked.

What do you mean ? You asked back, puzzled.

Recovery isn’t an easy time. Are you sure you should be dating ? I mean, I don’t mean to be an ass, or tell you what not to do, he said. But maybe you should focus on yourself a bit ?

You stared at him and said nothing for a second. It seemed pretty ironic for him to say that when he had asked you out a while ago, shortly after your relapse, no less.

I like him, you know ? He’s really nice, and, at least, it keeps my mind busy, you said. I think I’m ready to date.

He nodded and smiled softly.

You know… this son of a bitch better be nice to you, Marshall said.

And what if he isn’t ? You wondered.

I’ll make sure he regrets being born, if he ever hurts you.

He’s a gentleman, you reassured him. And Hailie likes him.

Right. Must be a nice dude, then.

You looked at each other, smiling.

You know, if Nicole ever breaks your heart, I can make sure some hair removal cream ends up in her shampoo, you said with a smirk.

What if I’m the one who fucks it up ? He wondered.

I’m sure you won’t, you said. Though if you do end up being an ass… I’ll probably have to dye your beard green in your sleep. Or shave it.

I’ll remember the warning, he said with a chuckle. And I hope it doesn’t happen… It took forever to grow this thing.

You laughed as you gently scratched his beard. He pulled you in for a long hug.

It’s good, he said under his breath.

Yeah. It really is, you confirmed.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem fluff #eminem imagine #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers headcanons #recovery fanfiction

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tywrites · 1 year

Text

not your babe | the lost boys [marko x reader]

a/n: hi! this is my first time actually writing in around 9 months? so i apologise if it’s bad :’) it’s also my first time writing for the lost boys! i just can’t get this man out of my head >.< i found marko pretty difficult to characterise so i apologise if he’s ooc <3 as always feedback is super appreciated!

summary: you get stood and marko wants to make you feel better :( inspired by this post by @kurt-nightcrawler

pairing: marko x gn!reader (i’m pretty sure i didn’t use any gender terms-)

word count: 2.2k

warnings: cheating :0, i think that’s it? maybe ooc marko

---

A sigh fell from your lips. The bright lights from the boardwalk shimmered around you, taunting you. Intoxicated whoops and screams of laughter echoed and swirled through the air. Your arms were comfortingly wrapped around your body despite the warm summer night. Gazing longingly at the people around you having such a good time caused your heart to ache. As much as you wished to join in with the festivities, there was a heavy bitterness lying inside you.

Your boyfriend wasn’t the most punctual person in Santa Carla, but standing you up completely was new. After waiting for nearly 2 hours, you were close to giving up and going on home, maybe drowning your sorrows in a bottle of wine and shitty late night TV. You glanced at your watch once more, the neon numbers only succeeding in making you feel worse. I mean, really? What kind of person leaves their partner waiting for this long? Had he forgotten or could he just not be bothered to drag his sorry ass here tonight? You’d only been dating for about a month, but you really couldn’t believe that you meant so little to him.

You surveyed the boardwalk, taking notice of all the familiar faces. You were a regular there, having lived in Santa Carla for pretty much your whole life. It may be dangerous, but it was home. In the distance, you could make out a gang of Surf Nazis messing around with Big Ed, the boardwalk’s night guard, as per usual. Clumps of people were scattered around, chatting at the top of their lungs; drunks and junkies wobbling their way around the stalls. The boardwalk was particularly crowded tonight, probably due to the weekend; but there was no sight of him. Biting your lip, you decided that enough was enough and began to gather your things ready to leave. It was particularly frustrating since you’d put so much effort into your appearance tonight. But whatever, dude didn’t deserve to see you looking so good if he couldn’t even be bothered to show up.

A sudden cacophony of motorcycle engines broke you from your thoughts. You dropped your bag back onto the bench and whipped around, hoping to see your boyfriend. He was never seen without his bike. Instead, you were met with a gang of boys who you were all too familiar with. Clad in leather and showing a tasteful amount of skin, they were definitely a hard bunch to miss.

A few of them frequented the record shop you worked night shifts at, usually the two blonds (the natural ones anyway...) They’d always been sweet to you, despite their reputation – even going as far as to chase away some guys who’d been harassing you one time. That happened all too often around here so you really did appreciate the gesture. Those guys never entered the store again. You understood why people found them intimidating, but to you, they were really fun to be around. Always laughing and joking around in the store, and more often than not, flirting too. Especially Marko. You’d found yourself drawn to the wild guy in a way you’d never been before. His fashion sense, his humour, the way he always made a point of making conversation with you whenever he’d come in. You kinda had it bad for him. Maybe he flirted a bit too much for your taste considering he knew you were taken, but he was funny and definitely easy on the eyes. Your boyfriend really didn’t approve of your friendship, he always seemed to pull you away the moment you started getting too close for comfort. The two guys really didn’t get along.

You struggled to tear your eyes away from Marko as he and his friends parked on the side of the boardwalk. They bantered good-naturedly, giggling with each other as they dismounted their bikes. The girl and kid that always hung around with them hopped off the bikes and wandered into the fairground, the rest of them speaking for a moment before Marko turned and headed into the crowd with Paul. They strutted around for a bit, looking around the area before Marko looked in your direction. You quickly averted your eyes, the ground suddenly becoming very interesting. He brought Paul in for a moment to whisper in his ear. When he pulled away, a large suggestive grin was plastered on Paul’s face and he clapped Marko’s back as if wishing him luck before continuing on. Marko rolled his eyes at his friend’s antics while heading over to you.

“Hey there babe,”

“Not your babe,” you reminded him, looking up to meet those mischievous blue eyes you’d grown so familiar with.

He smirked as he advanced towards you, looking at you intently. He was pretty close now, standing in front of the small bench you were sitting on. He bounced on the heels of his feet as he glanced around, gently nibbling on the skin of his thumb. Cute. “So… Where’s your little boyfriend?” He asked, quirking a brow.

You looked down, shuffling your feet. God, this was humiliating. “He, uh...”

“Didn’t show?”

You let out a short, half-hearted laugh. “That obvious, huh? Yeah, you got it right,”

“Asshole. Clearly doesn’t know what he’s missing. You look really fucking good tonight.” He grinned when he noticed the blush that rose to your face at that. You realised that you were genuinely smiling for the first time tonight. “So since he’s not here… you’re free tonight, right?”

“I mean, technically. But I was honestly just planning on heading home, not really in the best mood y’know? Wouldn’t wanna bring the vibe down,” you replied, fidgeting with the strap of your bag.

“Aw c’mon!” He took your hands in his, the leather of his gloves sliding against your soft skin. “The night’s still young, don’t let that tiny dick asshole ruin it for you,”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, your laugh only making Marko smile wider. God, your laugh did things to him. You knew this might be a bad idea. You were still taken. But right now, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He was the one who fucked up, why should your night be ruined because of him? You mulled it over for a moment before replying.

“Fuck it. Why not?”

“Then let’s bounce, babe.”

–

Your arms were wound tightly around Marko’s torso, gently tracing patterns onto the bare skin of his stomach exposed by his crop top. The firm denim of his jacket was rough against your bare arms, the many patches layered over each other creating an uneven texture. You leant your cheek against his back as you sped through the night, sand flying up into the air as you rode. It was exhilarating. Your boyfriend never let you near his bike; it was his pride and joy. At this very moment, as the wind whipped through your hair, splaying it out behind you – you’d truly never felt more alive. You screamed in excitement and tightened your grip when he suddenly lifted the bike back into a wheelie, whooping wildly. The engine roared deafeningly. Your eyes clenched shut involuntarily as you felt the bike lean back, your stomach dropping. You could hear Marko chuckling at the screams coming from your mouth and found yourself laughing along.

The moon and his headlights lit the way in front, showing nothing but a long expanse of sand. To your right was the most gorgeous view of the ocean, to the left the vivid lights from the fairground. It felt as though the moonlight was stalking you both, following you through the shadows and bouncing off the waves. Part of you didn’t want the night to end. It was like a dream.

Unfortunately, the ride was finished too soon. Riding bumpily back up the stairs to the boardwalk, Marko parked his bike back where you’d first started nearly two hours ago. After that ride, your boyfriend wasn’t even a passing thought in your mind. All you could think about was the pretty boy who was currently helping you off the back of his bike.

“How was that?” He grinned as he slung his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.

“Well, it was definitely worth the absolute mess that is my hair right now,” you giggled, trying your best to smooth out your locks but to no avail. Not that it mattered when two seconds later Marko’s hand found it’s way into your hair, messing it up once again. You glared playfully at him.

“It’s cute, you should keep it like that,” he winked. “C’mon!”

He grabbed your hand, dragging you into the fairground before you could protest. Not that you would have. You weren’t 100% sure where all of this was going – whether he was just trying to cheer you up because of the whole boyfriend thing or whether it was something more. But you put all of those thoughts to the back of your mind. You just wanted to have a good time.

And you did. He dragged you on pretty much every ride, no matter how many times you was chased off by the security guard. Laughing delightedly together on the biggest roller coasters, you clinging tightly to his arm as the cart teetered over the edge of steep inclines. The teasing quips he’d make about you being scared. It was a rush, a breath of fresh air. The pounding in your heart and lungs as you sprinted away from Ed hunting the two of you down. Of course Marko hadn’t told you about his ban from the boardwalk. You weren’t one to get in trouble a lot, but this was exhilarating. After getting pursued all throughout the fun house (you’d lost Ed in the mirror room, and Marko for a short while too, but you’d reunited outside the fun house), the two of you sprinted down to a ride at the very end of the fairground. A boat ride on a track tempted you, one you hadn’t seen before. Must be new. But hiding in the tunnel seemed like a good shout.

“Quick, on here!” You both hopped onto the ride, the boat rocking creakily in the water, and frantically urged the operator to start.

The bored teen cranked the lever and you were off, heading towards a tunnel lit up with pink tinted lights on the inside. You looked up just in time to see the lit up banner pasted on top of the tunnel. The Tunnel of Love.

Go figure.

You breathed heavily, desperately trying to catch your breath, clutching the side of the boat. Looking at your companion, you couldn’t understand how Marko seemed so unbothered while you were still fighting the stitch in your side. Instead, he was far more distracted by the inside of the tunnel. Huge heart-shaped arches lead you through the ride, flower petals were scattered across the water. Neon bulbs emanated a pink glow as a subtle, sweet smell spread through the air.

He looked at you, smirking. “Just wanted to get me alone, huh babe?”

You rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder with your own. “Not your babe…” you said quietly.

He giggled, intently gazing into your eyes. Carefully, he reached out and took your hand. You felt the cool leather of his fingerless gloves and rough callouses as he gently played with your fingertips. He smiled lopsidedly at you. Your heart fluttered.

“You still thinking about him? Your night still ruined?”

You bit your lip, shaking your head. “He’s the last thing on my mind right now.”

His gaze was intense, you felt so analysed. One of his hands left yours, coming up to cup your cheek. Your breath hitched but you leant into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed. You waited. Soft lips pressed against your own, capturing your mouth in a sweet kiss. It was so different than you expected, gentle and slow. Until he took his arm and moved it to your back, manoeuvring you onto his lap. His hand dropped to your waist, his grip firm as he deepened the kiss. You arms came up to settle around his neck, one of your hands tangled in his blond curls. He held you tightly against his body as his lips moved in sync with yours, the kiss becoming gradually more messy as it went on. You were breathless, chest heaving but unable to part from him. The gloved hand around your waist became more and more confident, playing with the hem of your shirt before sliding underneath. The cold leather made you shiver as it slid against you, tracing patterns on your side. It was so sudden when he bit your lip, a high whine escaping you. You could feel him smirk against your lips. Your head was foggy as he reconnected your lips, almost possessive with the way he held you against him.

“That’s enough kids, break it up!”

You hadn’t even noticed the ride stop. You sprung apart from him, still feeling as though your were under a trance. Looking up, blinking in the bright lights of the fairground, you saw the night guard hovering over you both, a triumphant scowl on his face.

“Uh oh-”

“I’ve got you now!”

Marko yanked you up, leapt out of the boat and – narrowly escaping Ed’s arms – the chase began once again. You ran side by side into the night, laughing manically. You’d definitely be giving your boyfriend a call tonight.

#the lost boys x reader #the lost boys #the lost boys imagine #the lost boys marko #the lost boys marko x reader

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abbatoirablaze · 8 days

Text

Surrogate Luna, Chapter 24

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: implied fantasy smut.

“Hey…are you okay?”

Cinna nodded, smiling up at her friend, “yes-I just-it’s amazing to see how all of you have accepted me and my pups into your pack…”

“We may act like barbarians, but we are a very accepting group,” Nat smiled sweetly, “and anyways, you’re our luna. Our pack has waited what feels like forever for you. I don’t know if you noticed or not, but Bucky isn’t willing to compromise about things that he’s passionate on…and one of those topics is his mates. He’s had offers for years to settle down with someone and for us to have a luna, but he wanted to have faith that he’d be okay…that he’d find the right one eventually.”

Cinna bit her lip, “I noticed.”

Yelena nudged her, “you’ve made our alpha very happy…I’ve never seen him like this.”

“N-not even with Steve?”

“It was…different with Steve…” Nat admitted softly, “not bad different, but they were young pups. And Steve’s father wasn’t accepting of the pairing…and neither was his pack. But we all get along well with the Stark pack. He’s been kind to our alpha, and vice versa. We are glad that he chose you! He must really love you.”

“Can I ask something, Nat?” she asked, “will-will you be honest with me?”

“Natasha is always too honest,” Yelena laughed as she continued on with their stroll, “don’t test that theory.”

“Do either of you think that it’s odd?” you asked, “we-we haven’t heard anything from Steve and Sharon…but they seemed pretty intent on war when we were at the Stark pack summit.”

“I think that if it was meant to be then it would be,” Natasha replied thoughtfully, “Sharon is a bully…but not truly powerful. I think she’s only kept Steve around because she feeds off his power with her mark…but I don’t think that she’d truly last in a war. Our pack would crush hers. And I think that deep down, she knows that. She’s an idiot, but not wholly suicidal.”

Cinna nodded, taking in the information as they started to come up to the training grounds, “you know, if you are interested in learning how to fight or protect yourself, we could always teach you…and believe it or not, Clint is a sigma.”

“A sigma?” she asked, her brows popping up in surprise, “I didn’t-he doesn-“

“Doesn’t come across as one?” Natasha smiled. Cinna nodded, “we know. Alpha Barnes…Bucky-he has a program for sigmas and omegas…anyone that really wants to better themselves at ignoring alpha commands during battles…Clint was a test subject of sorts. He found out that if a designation is put in the right conditions, they can actually ignore alpha commands…”

“H-how does he do that?”

“It takes years of training!” Clint admitted, practically appearing out of nowhere, “we’ve been working on it since we were pups, because I had been taken as a POW in a war with another pack.”

“Clint was actually from a pack in the Midwest,” Yelena admitted, “our pack rescued him when he was what…eight? Ten?”

“Six,” Clint corrected, “my pack was wiped out…Bucky’s father was the one who rescued me…me, Bucky and Natasha all came up together…”

“And then we got stuck with Yelena when my parents wanted another pup!” Natasha teased as she grabbed her little sister and pulled her close.

Yelena playfully snapped at her sister, and the two siblings smiled, pushing away from one another, “so, luna…what’s on the agenda for today? We’re having a pack feast tonight, so-“

“Another one?”

“Alpha Barnes believes in celebrating life,” Yelena smiled, “our pack dynamics are a little…different than most.”

“I’ve noticed!” Cinna smiled, “but I love it here, and so do my pups…so I’m not complaining!”

“TO OUR LUNA!”

The drinks were thrown up in the air, chalices and glassware clinking wildly as the roar from the pack put butterflies in Cinna’s stomach. She looked at Bucky and couldn’t help but swoon as she saw Saradia snuggling into his chest.

It was far past the three-year old’s bed time, but she’d wanted to be part of the festivities, much like Peter and Stevie, who were both animatedly talking with the other pups next to their own head table.

Bucky reached out with his free hand and Cinna took it, longing to touch Bucky at any chance that she could.

“Looks like you may have a new shadow, alpha!” Cinna teased, gesturing to her daughter who was basking in the fact that Bucky was holding her, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen my fiery little sigma so attached to anyone…”

Bucky smiled at his mate, “I want a whole pack of pups, omega…I’ve always wanted that…and I think that Saradia sees that and feels safe with me.”

The three-year-old, who was trying so hard to stay awake nodded, shifting so that she could look at her mother.

“Hello little one…”

“Our pack, momma…”

“Yes baby…this is our pack…”

“Daddy pack.”

Even knowing how close Bucky and her had become over the past few days, Cinna was still surprised to hear the words uttered from her lips.

“Yes baby…” she smiled softly, her other hand reaching out to stroke her pup’s cheek. She looked up at Bucky, “maybe I should put the kids to bed…it’s late.”

“Whatever you want, omega!”

“No, momma!” she begged, shifting out of Bucky’s arms and towards her mother, “wanna stay up…like Peter…”

“Peter and Stevie need to sleep too baby!” she cooed.

“Uh uh!” she giggled, shifting out of the alpha’s arms entirely before running over to Peter and clinging to his side while she watched him interact with the pups from Bucky’s pack.

“I-it’s nice…you know!” she admitted after a second, “seeing my pups together…having all of them here.”

Bucky reached out and was gentle in how he pulled his mate’s chair closer, before shifting her onto his lap. He pressed a few soft kisses to her neck before she turned to look at him.

“I’m happy that you’re happy, luna…”

“I’m home!” she sighed softly, nuzzling against him, “home and with my pups…and my mate…how could I not be happy?”

“Luna?”

Cinna looked up, broken from her thoughts of her first night there, “I’m sorry, what?”

“We were asking if you wanted us to get the pups down for a nap before the festivities?” one of the caretakers asked.

Natasha giggled from beside her, nudging her, “you thinking about your alpha over there?”

“Wh-what?”

Yelena rolled her eyes and left the group. Cinna’s own eyes followed her, and that was when she noticed what had pushed her into a trance like state. Bucky had been play-fighting with Saradia, Peter, and Stevie, showing them how to use the stick swords, laughing as he talked about the old, civilized way of fighting with a sword and shield.

And the kids seemed like they were having the times of their lives, each of their little faces lighting up as they poked the big alpha with the fake swords while he attempted to outmaneuver them.

But she had noticed the sweat that had formed on his tan, developed abdomen. The droplets and how they had paraded between the ridges and valley of his deep cut abs.

Her pupils dilated as she watched his form.

‘Take the kids in!’ she whimpered softly, not bothering to spare the entourage a look. They were quick in removing the giggling children. She noticed the surprise on Bucky’s features, and how he was about to ask where they were taking the pups, until he saw his omega’s face.

Until he smelled the scent of her arousal filling the air around him. He smiled, stalking towards her, ‘omega…’

The simple call of her designation was enough to set her soul on fire.

She growled at him, and he growled in response. His chest heaved as he breathed in deeply to catch her scent, ‘smell so sweet, omega.’

‘Need you, alpha!’ she purred, feeling the butterflies moving from in her stomach to a tingling between her thighs.

‘Can smell you!’ he exclaimed, sweeping her into his arms. She moaned, and her eyes closed as he pulled her into a searing kiss.

‘Bucky!’

He growled yet again, and cupped her ass, squeezing the fleshy globes, ‘gonna put a pup in you, omega…’

‘Put a whole litter in me!’ she begged.

‘Never gonna stop!’ he growled between kisses as he slid his hand down her thigh and pressed her against the wall. She moaned, feeling his hardened length only sheltered by his denim, ‘gonna keep you full, luna. Gonna build up our pack with so many pups…’

“MOMMY!”

Cinna was shaken from her thoughts when she felt a set of hands wrap around her leg. She smiled, seeing that Stevie had run up to her and was hugging her.

Peter and Saradia were close behind, attacking her thighs with just as much energy as the alpha pup.

“I made it first!” Stevie proclaimed happily.

“That you did, my little alpha!”

“Well, I got here second!” Peter grinned.

“Also true, my sweet little omega.”

“I made too!” Saradia frowned.

She leaned forward and picked up her youngest, perching on her hip. She kissed her cheek, “and my fearless little sigma…how could I forget you?”

She giggled as Bucky joined the group, fake sword perched on his shoulder, “I lost all my little soldiers…”

“Momma!” Saradia smiled, as though it were the most obvious thing.

“That’s right, little sigma,” Bucky grinned, pinching her cheek, “We always protect our omegas…especially our mothers and pups. You three were right to come protect your mother…because I’m going to eat her next!”

The pups giggled as Bucky dropped his sword and scooped his omega into his arms, before peppering her face in kisses.

“No, daddy!” Saradia said quickly, trying to push Bucky’s face away, “you don’t eat momma. She’s luna.”

“That’s right!” he proclaimed, pressing a kiss to Saradia’s cheek, “your mother is our pack’s luna…do you know what that makes you?”

“Princess?”

The boys laughed from between Bucky and Cinna, shaking their heads at their baby sister, but Bucky nodded as he plucked Saradia from Cinna’s grasp, “that’s right, Saradia. You’re a princess. You’re daddy’s little princess and princess over the whole pack!”

Her eyes seemed to light up as Peter looked at Cinna, “princesses don’t exist, do they, mommy?”

“Of course not!” Stevie laughed.

“In Europe, they don’t go by pack leaders,” she reminded them, “they do call them princesses and princes…if we ever went, Bucky would be a king, and I would be queen of the Barnes pack…just as you two would be princes and Saradia would be a princess.”

“I’m a prince!” Peter smiled.

“That you are,” she grinned, “come little pups…I came to get you because Natasha and Yelena reminded me about the feast tonight!”

Stevie’s eyes lit up, “another one?”

“Yes, another one…come on…I need to get the three of you bathed and napped beforehand.”

“But I’m not tired, momma!” Saradia whined.

“But if you nap, you can stay up with me and mommy…and Peter and Stevie,” Bucky reminded her gently, helping out in his own little way, “you can stay for the whole party.”

She seemed to think about it for a second before nodding, and reaching back out to Cinna, who was mouthing a quick ‘thank you’ to him.

Bucky watched as Cinna got the kids all lined up and headed towards the packhouse. He felt his inner wolf howling at how she walked away from him, hips swaying. He breathed a deep sigh and paused.

His brows furrowed as he noticed the sweeter scent.

“You okay, alpha?” Sarah asked as she rejoined him after putting the swords away.

Bucky nodded, “I just-my luna…she smells sweeter. Have you noticed?”

Sarah shook her head, “sorry, Buck…wasn’t sniffing your mate…who knows…only time I’ve ever known her to smell sweeter though was when she’s about to go into a heat, or when she was pregnant…”

“Yeah…”

“I mean, you two did have that romp at Tony’s summit,” she laughed, nudging the alpha, “who knows indeed. Maybe the Barnes pack is about to see their first heir through their alpha and luna.”

She laughed for a second, but stopped when Bucky’s eyes snapped to hers, and the realization hit him.

“She’s been here four months, Sarah…” Bucky said quickly, eyes going wide, “I-she hasn’t had a heat since the night we sent each other into a breakthrough one…”

“Well shit,” she smiled, slapping the alpha on the shoulder, “looks like the Barnes pack might see it’s first heir after all…congratulations, Alpha…”

“Holy shit…” he murmured to himself, “i-it’s really happening…”

“So,” she smirked, “when are you going to tell Cinna?”

Chapter 25

Tag List: @lohnes16, @prokey16, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @teambarnes72, @mrsevans90

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