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freedomfireflies · 4 months

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Outlawed*

Summary: The fifth and final part to Knockout*

The one where Harry just wants to fight, and you just want to love him.

Word Count: 10k (folks...we made it!)

Content Warning: 18+, smut, blood, violence, brief use of a knife, pain kink, size kink

“Cherry?”

Instantly, your head lifts. The familiarly warm nickname sewing up the frayed seams of your heart and sending it into a tizzy.

However, instead of the handsome stranger you’ve come to miss, you find Owen. Eyebrow raised and expression curious.

With a quick clear of your throat, you pull your attention back. “What?”

“Cherry,” he repeats, nodding now toward the pastry in front of you. “Is it cherry tonight?”

You look down as well. “Oh, uh, yeah. Yup.”

“Hm.” His lips press together in thought. “I like the cherry. The way you make it, it’s…it’s sweet. But just a bit sour.”

“Yup...”

“It’s very good.”

“Thanks.”

His hands disappear into his pockets with a short nod of his head. “I know the customers really like it, too. Get comments about it all the time.”

“That’s good.”

“You could probably make it every night. If you wanted.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

There’s a bit of a tense lull now as you continue rolling the dough, and you notice Owen begin to shift just out of your peripheral. He doesn’t normally hover when you’re working, not unless he’s got something he’d like to talk about, and his lingering glances make your insides begin to itch.

So, you raise a brow, and look over. “Is something…wrong?”

“Hm? Oh, no. No, not at all,” he stammers. “I just…wanted to check in. See how you’re feeling.”

Curious, you straighten up.“Oh…why?”

“Well, I’ve just noticed how quiet you’ve been,” he explains. “And I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. Just…trying to get my work done.”

He steps closer. “I noticed your friend hasn’t been coming around as much. The sullen one, with the dark clothes and broody temper?”

And despite everything else, you can’t help but smile at the memories. “Oh, yeah, well…I don’t think he’ll be coming by anymore. Don’t worry.”

“Ah.” A brief pause. “Is it because of Jesse?”

Instantly, you lean back, pulling the rolling pin away from the counter in surprise. “What?”

“Jesse. The other boy who was in here,” he says. “The tall, snobby one in the fancy clothes? Kind of annoying?”

“I…yeah.” Your lashes flutter. “I guess, I mean. They don’t really…get along. But…it’s probably my fault, too.”

He hums to himself almost contemplatively. “You’re not back with him, are you? The Jesse one?”

“Uh…no. Why?”

“I just…I don’t like him,” he sighs, arms crossing over his apron. “I think he’s trouble, and truth be told, you don’t always look that happy when he’s around.”

And you know he’s right, although you are a little surprised that he noticed. “Oh…well, no. No, not at all.”

“Good. Good.” He nods again. “Honestly, you can do a lot better than him, darling. Especially considering everything else he’s involved in.”

Now slightly more startled, your head tilts. “What do you mean?”

“Well…you know,” he begins, moving even closer before lowering his voice. “I don’t want to talk out of turn, and I certainly don’t want to scare you, but…I imagine you already know a little of what he really does, yeah?”

And even though you should know better than to answer, and even though you have Harry’s stern voice ringing in your ear not to trust him…you nod.

“Right, well…I know how much trouble that might put you in,” he continues. “And I know that with the fighting, and the betting, and the outsourcing…I’d hate to see you get dragged down with him—”

“Wait, what? What outsourcing?”

After a quick glance around the rather empty kitchen, Owen sighs, and murmurs, “Look, I don’t know everything, but a few months ago, he approached me with a proposal. He explained about the fights, and about the betting, and said that I’d be making easy money. That it was a guaranteed win because his fighter never lost.”

And suddenly, the image of Harry in that ring – night after night, hit after hit – paints itself across the forefront of your mind. You lose your breath, chest constricting with the thought of all the pain he endures at Jesse’s hand.

“And from what I could tell, he was taking the betting outside of the fights,” he explains. “I don’t know where or to how many other people, but he was pretty confident. And truth be told, I started to wonder if he’d maybe rigged it.”

“Rigged it? How?”

He shrugs. “I’m not really sure. Maybe he was paying the other fighter to lose or maybe he was paying his fighter extra to make sure he always won. Either way, I said no, and he took his business elsewhere. I think he was afraid of getting caught.”

And it makes sense. Every little detail clicking into place as you recall that night at the match. Jesse’s threat and his insistence on Harry’s win. Harry’s refusal not to play his game.

You straighten up. “Right.”

“Look, I just…I don’t want to see you get dragged down with him,” Owen finishes softly. “You’re a good kid, and he’s…you can do better. You can do a lot better than him, and I hope you know that.”

And you do now.

“Thanks,” you murmur before placing the rolling pin down. “I know this is a bit last minute, but is there any way I might be able to leave early today? I think I need to go find him.”

“Yeah. No problem.” He checks his watch. “Joshua’s supposed to be coming in soon. I could have him cover for you if you’d like to leave now.”

“Really? Would that be all right?”

“Sure. The pies probably won’t be as good as when you make ‘em, but…” He throws you a smile and you laugh. “Do what you need to do. And if you need any help, just give me a call, okay, darling?”

Nodding quickly, you wipe your hands down the front of your apron before ripping it off. “Of course. Thank you so much, I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime.”

You’re out the diner door in under two minutes, nearly sprinting to your car as you work out a plan.

You’re almost positive that outside betting goes against the league’s rules (although you wonder if an illegal, underground fighting society even has any rules at all). But especially if it means Jesse ends up making more money on each fight than anyone else actually involved. The fighters included.

And if Jesse truly doesn’t want anyone else to know, you might have just found your loophole. A way to get him out of the picture and still keep Harry safe.

You aren’t sure where to start. Truth be told, you aren’t sure what you’ll even say. But perhaps you don’t have to say much. Perhaps you only need Jesse to know that you know, and he’ll take care of the rest.

You head for the one place you know he might be. Your heart aches to call Harry, but without an address, a last name, or a phone number, you don’t really have very many options. You can only hope that he’ll find you once this is all over.

When you finally make it into the darker part of town, your pulse begins to pound. Slamming against the sides of your ribcage as you pull up to the familiar building and park. Right beside the only other car in the lot.

It’s not until you step out that you realize who it is.

“Well, well, well,” Jesse calls with a devious smirk, exiting his vehicle as well. “What a surprise, sugarplum. Come to watch tonight’s big fight?”

You take in a brave breath and begin toward him. “No. I’m here to talk to you.”

His brow raises, but he seems relaxed. In fact, far too relaxed for your liking. “I see. And can I assume this has something to do with your little boytoy?”

“Not quite. But it does have to do with you.”

“Ah.” He grins to himself before dramatically gesturing toward the warehouse. “Then, by all means.”

So, with a shallow exhale, you oblige, trailing after him and toward the front door just as you did the other night. It’s an eerie deja-vu.

And perhaps you should feel a bit more nervous than you do, but deep down, you know him. You know that he’s lacking any real emotion or regret, and maybe, that might just give you an edge.

After typing in the passcode, he leads you inside. The once glorious space now dark and empty. Sporting nothing but the large boxing ring and the stunning chandelier.

“I’ve gotta be honest, sugarplum, I don’t know what you said to him…but it worked,” he begins as you both walk further into the room. “I’ve never seen him fight like that before.”

You purse your lips together in an effort to resist screaming at him. “Well, that’s what you wanted, right?”

“It is.” He stops near the ring and turns around, leaning on it as he studies you. “And I knew you’d come through.”

“Great. So, you’ll leave him alone now, right?”

“As long as he wins, sure.”

“You mean, as long as he makes you money.”

His arms cross now, and that smug expression makes you want to slug him. “As long as he does what he gets paid to do, then there won’t be a problem.”

“Right. And as long as you can keep outsourcing the bets.”

For the first time, he hesitates, that arrogant grin slipping ever-so-slightly as he raises his chin. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I stutter?” You step closer, and you notice him tense. “The money that you outsource to other bettors. The money that you make – that Harry makes you – on these fights every time he wins.”

His jaw ticks. “You don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“No? You wanna bet on that?”

And you don't think you've ever seen him so livid. Not even on his worst night when you were together, and your insides begin to wrench.

But before he can reply – before he can really do anything – a door opens. Allowing a rather bright stream of light into the warehouse as you and Jesse both reach up to shield your eyes.

And then...you see him.

Harry.

It takes him a moment to understand what he’s really looking at, but you catch the exact second he realizes. The way his face contorts and his fingers curl into his fist.

And you want to explain, want to take back everything you said and tell him the truth, but he’s already speaking up before you can.

“What the fuck is this?” he calls, and it’s so very angry. But he’s not talking to you.

He’s talking to Jesse.

Jesse merely rolls his shoulders back, attempting to settle back into his condescending façade. “Nothing that concerns you.”

“No?” He scoffs. It’s bitter and full of disdain. “Because anything you fucking say to her concerns me.”

Your heart skips.

Jesse, however, merely snorts to himself before glancing at you. “It’s a wonder you manage to get anything done on your own.”

Harry instantly strides closer, and you suddenly feel safer. Relieved to be near him again and desperate to feel him. To wrap yourself in his arms and never let go. To make things right.

But not once does he look in your direction. Instead keeping his focus on the man near the mat as he approaches. “Don’t fucking speak to her that way,” he nearly growls. “In fact, don’t speak to her at all.”

“Or what, hm?” The haughty cadence is back. “Do you really think you have any power outside of this ring?”

“I think I can knock your fucking teeth down your throat anywhere I goddamn please.”

“How incredibly barbaric.” Jesse’s brow cocks upwards. “Is he like this when he fucks, too?”

This question is directed at you, and no sooner has it left his mouth does Harry suddenly surge forward, grab him by the collar, and slam him back into the ring.

You gasp – or maybe you scream – before Harry removes one hand in order to send it flying straight into Jesse’s nose.

Blood is everywhere. Dripping from Jesse’s mouth, smeared across Harry’s knuckles, splattered along the concrete floor.

And you want to intervene. Want to do anything that might make you feel a little less useless, but Harry is delivering the second blow before you can decide.

“You fucking—” Punch. “—piece—” Punch. “—of shit.” Each comment is swimming in vile contempt, his expression livid and incensed.

You’ve never seen him this outraged. Didn’t even know a person could hold this much resentment, but it sends chills down your spine.

“Harry,” you murmur, taking a tentative step closer. “Harry, wait—”

“After everything you’ve fucking taken from me,” he sneers in Jesse’s face, “you wanna take her, too?”

Jesse’s only response is to suck in a large gasp for air that becomes gargled by the blood in his throat, and you feel sick.

“Harry,” you try again, grasping onto his other arm in an effort to tug him back. “Harry, wait, there’s another way—"

He brushes you off almost too easily. “And now—” Another hit, this time to Jesse’s stomach. “—you think she can save you? You think you can use her to get what you fucking want?”

He sends his busted knuckles straight into Jesse’s teeth, and your insides twist.

“Harry, stop,” you plead, yanking on him a bit harder. “I found another way, okay, please—”

“You fucking think…I’m gonna let you use her?” he seethes before pulling his arm back for the next hit. “You’re out of your goddamn mind—”

Without much thought, you suddenly rush around him, and place your hands on his chest. Wedging yourself between the two just before he can land the next strike to Jesse’s jaw.

It’s stupid and it’s impulsive and it’s rash, but it works. And it’s the only thing that seems to pull him back from that treacherous edge as his eyes find yours and his arm instantly drops.

It’s the first time he’s looked at you in days, and you want to cry. Because he’s staring at you like he’s never seen you before. Void of any emotion or understanding except for the realization that he doesn’t want to hurt you.

“Harry,” you whisper, and his name cracks from your throat. “Harry, please, I…I found another way. Okay? He…you don’t have to do this—”

“I know. I want to,” he replies, still rather hostile.

“But I don’t want you to,” you argue. “Okay, I think we can get out of this. There’s a way to get him out—”

“I don’t want a way. I want to fucking kill him.”

“Harry, you…” You suck in a quick breath and move closer, nearly gluing yourself to his tense frame. “He’s outsourcing the bets. He’s stealing money from the fights, okay, and we can get him out.”

He looks surprised for all of a minute before the look suddenly vanishes and he attempts to brush you away. “I don’t care. He deserves this.”

“Harry,” you nearly gasp, “if you do this, they’ll kill you. Okay, and I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you—”

His features soften, although he still begins to push past you. “You’ll be all right—”

“Stop, just listen—"

“Cherry,” he warns now, “get out of the way.”

“Harry, please, don’t do this. You can’t do this—"

“I don’t care. Move—”

“Harry—”

“Cherry, move—”

“I love you.”

He stops. Seems to freeze right where he stands, but you barrel on. Clutching onto his dark, familiar hoodie as though trying to grab at his heart.

“I love you,” you repeat in a strained whisper. “I love you, and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry I lied, I…I thought I was protecting you. I thought I was helping, or…or doing what was best, but it wasn’t – I wasn’t. I wasn’t, and I’m sorry.”

He says nothing. Blinks. Doesn’t move.

“And I love you.” You suck in a shaky breath as the tears fight their way to your waterline. “I love you so much it makes my chest hurt, and I can’t lose you, and…and please. Please don’t do this.”

And you’ve never felt so vulnerable or afraid. And not because of his silence, but because you’ve never loved anybody the way you love him. And you’ll understand if he no longer feels the same or if he’s changed his mind. If he wants to punish you for your lie or for your attempt to say it now.

Instead…he moves to rest his hands over yours. Keeping them over his heart before dipping down…and kissing you.

And it fixes everything. Absolutely everything. Because it’s perfect and familiar and so incredibly Harry.

And you’ve missed him.

You feel an arm slowly snaking around your lower stomach, and you begin to smirk against his lips before you realize who the arm really belongs to.

It yanks you back, ripping you away from the man you love until you’re cemented against Jesse’s chest.

Something cold and sharp is settled against your throat, and you take in a quick gasp for air.

Harry attempts to remain calm as he’s forced to watch, but you can see the edges of his sanity coming loose. Jaw clenching, teeth gritting, brows furrowing. His shoulders are tense beneath his sweatshirt, his hands are balling into fists, and his head is cocking to the side like he’s debating whether or not to lunge.

Jesse merely laughs in your ear. “This is so fucking pathetic. And so goddamn cliché, sugarplum. Is this really what you want? Him?”

You squirm a bit in his hold, and Harry takes a brave step forward. But almost instantly, the blade of the knife begins to press further into the soft skin of your throat, immediately forcing Harry back with a dark scowl.

“Easy,” Jesse warns as you both go still. “Come on, now, I think you both know better than that.”

“Jess,” you pant, reaching for his wrist. “Jesse, please—”

“It’s so simple,” he continues, ignoring your attempt. “So fucking simple. Just win the match. Win the goddamn match and you get to go home."

“I don’t fucking care. Let her go,” Harry seethes. “This isn’t about her—”

“Except that it is.” Jesse’s smirk widens. “Of course it is. You wanted to leave to protect her, so you will stay to protect her. You made it about her, dear Harold. I’m only following your lead.”

Something shifts now in Harry’s expression, and it nearly ruins you. He looks…lost. So very lost and helpless. Like he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do without you.

Jesse presses his nose to the side of your cheek, and you feel the warm blood smear across your skin. “So, if you wanna take this away from me, then I have no problem returning the favor.”

The knife is pulled taut to the curve of your throat, and you hiss, making Harry’s face pale.

And when his eyes finally flitter to yours, you realize what you have to do.

“Harry,” you whisper, nodding once. Subtle enough to go unnoticed by the man behind you before you smile gently. “It’s okay.”

You’re not sure he truly understands, but you suppose it doesn’t matter. He will soon.

So, you slowly lift your arm until you can bend your elbow, only to send it flying straight back into Jesse’s stomach.

It’s not enough to really harm him. In fact, it’s hardly enough to even surprise him, but it does distract him just enough to loosen his grip on the knife. Giving you the room you need to spin around in his hold and deliver your fist to his face.

The shock of the blow seems to do more than the strike itself. But he goes stumbling back, nevertheless, and the moment his arm has dropped from your waist, Harry steps forward and rips the knife from his hand.

Once it’s in his possession, he grabs onto your wrist, and wrangles you behind him.

“Don’t ever…” he begins, stepping closer until the tip of the sharp blade can rest just beneath Jesse’s jaw, “…put your fucking hands on her…again.”

Jesse says nothing. He merely stares through his swollen eyelids and bloodstained lashes.

“You’re no longer Harry’s sponsor,” you add. “And you’re no longer a part of the league. Do whatever you have to do to get out. Or we’ll do it for you.”

Harry smirks, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so smug.

When Jesse doesn’t answer, the weapon is nudged further into his bruised skin, forcing him to suck in a sharp breath as he finally grits, “Fine.”

Satisfied with his response, Harry lowers the knife, and steps back just far enough to let Jesse slip by. And the two of you watch as he stumbles toward the door without a single glance before disappearing into the parking lot.

Leaving you both behind.

The moment he’s gone, Harry turns to you, wraps his arms around your waist, and hoists you into the air. Keeping you snug in his embrace while you squeal and fling your arms around his neck for stability.

“Oh, that’s my fucking girl,” he nearly groans, and you laugh. “M’so goddamn proud of you, baby. Never seen something so fucking hot.”

You dip down until you can nuzzle your nose with his. “Well, I learned from the best.”

“Yeah? Good.” His grin nearly splits his face. “Can I please take you home now?”

And you nod so quickly, you’re nearly dizzy.

“Yes, please.”

“Okay, easy. Easy, sweet girl, deep breath. I’ve got you, yeah? Know it hurts, but it’ll be over soon.”

With a sharp exhale, you motion your head up and down, allowing Harry to pull your hand closer in order to continue dabbing the alcohol swab over the torn skin of your knuckles.

His tiny bathroom falls quiet as you sit on the edge of the sink. Him between your legs, attention trained on your bruise. And while the sensation is rather uncomfortable, you don’t think you’ve ever felt so cared for. So…fulfilled and secure.

And you realize, this is how you were always meant to feel.

With him.

“It’s gonna sting for a bit, but I’m almost done,” he promises, eyes softening when he sees your pained wince. “You’re being so good for me, Cherry, I’m so proud of you.”

You pout and it makes him chuckle. “You made it look so easy.”

“S’cause it wasn’t my first time.” He reaches for the gauze. “And we already know how I feel about pain.”

With a smirk of your own, you jut your chin toward him. “Yeah? And how are you feeling now?”

“Now?” His expression is wicked as he now leans just close enough to ghost his lips over yours. “Now…I feel fucking insatiable.”

You waste no time kissing him. In succumbing to his games and his endless teasing. You kiss him, and you don’t care if that means he wins, because you’ve never needed anyone or anything more.

And he’s so entertained by your desperation. His own bandaged hand finding your cheek as you sigh against his tongue and settle into this moment of adoration.

When he pulls back, you’re winded.

He goes back to work dressing your knuckles, wrapping the white gauze around and around until your torn skin is thoroughly protected.

And you watch him as he does this. As he sweeps his thumb gently along the ridges of your hand before bringing it to his mouth in order to leave yet another kiss.

“There,” he murmurs, trailing his lips across the fibers. “All better.”

It’s the most beautiful and romantic thing you think anyone has ever done for you, and your heart lodges in your throat. “Harry?”

“Hm?”

“…do you hate me?”

Surprised, he instantly straightens up and leans back. “What?”

“Do you…do you hate me? Because of what I did? What I said?” You attempt to ward off the influx of impending tears, but you can already feel the first one slipping free. “Do you think I’m a horrible person?”

His expression immediately drops as he reaches up to grasp onto your face once more. Thumbs brushing quickly along your warm skin as you sniffle. “Cherry…I could never hate you. Ever.”

“But maybe you should,” you whisper. “I hurt you, and I lied to you, and…and I don’t deserve you—”

“Baby,” he breathes, surging forward to press his forehead to yours in an effort to silence you. “Don’t ever fucking say that again, do you hear me? I know exactly why you did it, and I could never be mad at you for that. I was only hurt because I didn’t want to lose you. But you were only trying to protect me. I know that.”

“I said I didn’t love you,” you nearly croak. “I said I loved him. After everything you’ve done for me—”

“You had to,” he interrupts, and his understanding only hurts more. “Cherry, you had to. It was the only way, and I know that. I knew it then, too. You’ve only ever tried to protect me, and I wasn’t letting you.”

You grab onto his wrists and vow to never let go.

“And it’s not fair that you were put in that position,” he continues. “It’s not fair that you were forced to make that call, and it’s not fair that I dragged you into this. You were expected to choose between somebody you’ve known your entire life and somebody you just met. That’s not fair, and I never should have made you—”

“It wasn’t a choice,” you hiccup. “It was never a choice. It was always you.”

Those pretty pink lips pull back into the softest grin you’ve ever seen. “You were trying to save me, sweet girl. I know that, and I will never, ever hate you. I love you.”

I love you. The three best words you could ever hear, and your first sob wracks from your chest as you fling your arms around his neck to kiss him.

He kisses you back, but it’s soft. And sweet. And meant to convey exactly how he truly feels.

And it works because this is all you’ve ever wanted. Just him, and this moment, and those three words.

“Easy,” he warns through a strained breath. “Baby, careful—”

“Please,” is all you pant. “Harry, please, I can’t…I can’t wait any longer, please.”

And he nearly coos with amusement as he nuzzles his nose under your jaw in order to paint more kisses along your throat. “Can’t wait, hm? But what if I want to make this special?”

“It is. Is special—”

“Cherry,” he chuckles, “it’s all right. M’not going anywhere. We don’t have to rush, all right? S’been a long day and I don’t expect anything—”

“But I do,” you huff. “I’m ready, I want to. You’ve made me wait long enough.”

He laughs a little louder now, leaning back in order to see you. “I’m just trying to take care of you, sweet girl. We didn’t wait this long to throw it away because of him. I want this to be good for you. I want you to be sure that this is really what you want.”

And you appreciate the sentiment more than you’ll ever be able to explain. But right now, there is only one true way you want to spend the rest of this horrid day.

So, you lift your leg and hook it around his hip, pulling him back between your thighs with a pleading look.

In turn, he smirks, fingers returning to your chin with a playful squeeze. “Thought I was the insatiable one.”

“We’ll take turns,” you exhale before surging forward to kiss him again. Capturing his lips between your own and savoring the feeling you never thought you’d feel again.

And you can see his resolve crumble. Can see the way his eyes fall shut, the way his chest rises and falls beneath his dark shirt, the way his hands grasp onto your waist to keep you close.

He’s hungry. Ravenous. Losing the fight before it even begins, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Because now – now – he can have you. He can give you exactly what you want, can be exactly who he wants to be for you.

“Where do you wanna be, baby?” he asks through teasing nips to your neck. “The bed? The couch? D’you wanna go back to your apartment? Might feel more comfortable for you—”

“No, I don’t care,” you interrupt anxiously. “I don’t care, I just want you.”

He grins against your throat. “My greedy girl,” he murmurs, and your stomach flips. “Let’s go to the bed, yeah? Wanna lay you out and see you.”

And you want nothing more than to let him.

Regretfully, he pulls his lips from your skin and steps away, and you feel like you might die without him. But he’s quick to remedy this by taking your hand in order to help you hop down from the sink. Leading you out of the bathroom and through his apartment toward the bedroom.

His apartment isn’t what you expected. Although, truth be told, you didn’t know what to expect. It’s a bit bigger than yours, but there’s something…empty about it. Hollow, almost. The furniture is scarce, the colors and décor are few and far between. It doesn’t even look like anybody lives here, something he pointed out the moment you entered.

“Hardly spend any time here,” he’d said as you glanced around. “S’just a place to sleep, really. It’s never really felt like a home…until you walked through the door.”

And it was wildly cheesy, and perhaps a bit lame, but it was everything.

His bedroom doesn’t seem to be any different as he leads you inside. The walls are a dark grey, and his bedding is a similarly dark shade. He’s got one chair and one dresser. It’s quite clean, all things considered. No clothes lying on the floor or towels slung over the closet door.

It’s so very…Harry.

“Sorry,” he mumbles as your eyes flicker about the room. “Know it’s not very romantic.”

But you merely grin as you shake your head and grasp onto his hand. “Are you kidding? It’s perfect.”

His brow cocks up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You drag him toward the mattress before plopping down rather contently. “It’s so you. And I love that.”

And he only smiles before chasing after you and wrangling you into his arms.

It’s a faster dance from there. His hands and lips are everywhere they can reach. Slipping up the backs of your legs, ghosting over the curve of your hips, pulling at the zipper on your dress.

You merely settle in his embrace and allow him to take whatever he’d like. To touch and kiss each lingering thought away until all you know is him.

He’s careful but practiced. Treating you with the same adoration and gentle precision as he always has. And you’re so very thankful to feel so safe in his arms. A kind of security you weren’t sure you’d ever find in a partner the way you have him.

With anyone else you’ve ever been with, sex has always been transactional. A means to an end. This thing that you do to get off and nothing more. And despite your submissive preferences, there have been times when you truly felt powerless to your partner. Simply…there. Until they decided they no longer needed you.

But Harry…

He looks at you like your body is sacred. Like he’s undeserving of being so close to you. Of getting to touch you, hold you, feel you. Completely in-tune to every noise you make and every flutter of your lashes. Constantly on guard for your enjoyment and consent so he never goes any further than you want him to.

But you know, undoubtedly, that no matter how far he goes…it’ll never be enough.

You want his everything. His all. Anything he’s willing to offer, and you imagine you feel about as grateful as he looks to be here with him like this. To witness this kind of tender reverence.

He settles onto his back and pulls you on top. Placing you in a straddle over his waist until he can gaze up at you. “You okay, Cherry?”

You nod quickly – breathlessly – before resting your hands on his chest to brace yourself. “Just excited.”

His smile is boyish and charming, showcasing that familiar dimple that makes your cheeks warm. “Good. Want you to be.” He rubs soft circles into your hip before his brows furrow. “Y’know what I just realized?”

“Hm?”

“I still don’t know your name.”

And despite it all…you laugh. “I’ll tell you on one condition.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

You smirk. “I still want to be your Cherry.”

He chuckles as he squeezes your sides and drags you closer. “Oh, baby,” he murmurs as you dip down to kiss him. “Always.”

With a soft smile, you trail your lips from his cheek to his ear, whispering the forbidden name almost timidly.

And to your surprise, he only grins wider. “That’s beautiful, sweet girl. S’perfect, too. Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

You feel the blood rush to your face as you bury your lips against his throat and gently tug at his skin. “Okay, all right.”

“I mean it,” he insists, palm slipping around the back of your neck to tug you back out. “Cherry, you’re beautiful. I don’t say it to say it. I look at you…and I feel like I can’t breathe.”

And maybe they are just words. Maybe they’re meant to make your insides twist and make your heart swoon. To be romantic and suave.

But you believe him. Because you can see in his eye just how much he means it. Can feel it in your stomach that he’s never been as honest as he is right now.

Further proving that everything in your life…has led you to him. Every decision, every regret, every mistake. It brought you right here, to this moment, in his arms.

You don’t waste any time on replies or longing looks. You kiss him, and you resume this frantic dance, and you beg him to make things better. To ease this ache in your stomach as well as your heart.

So, he does.

Nimble fingers pull at the zipper along your side, loosening your uniform until he can guide it up and over your head. Only stopping once to whisper, “S’this okay, baby? Can I see you?”

You nod almost impatiently. “Yes, yeah. Whatever you want, promise.”

“Hm. Careful what you wish for, sweet girl,” he hums warningly. “Or I might just take you up on that.”

The moment your frame is revealed to him, he nearly groans. Allowing his hands to smooth up and down your shivering silhouette as you anxiously wait for more.

However, instead of allowing him the time to indulge in your body, you begin to tug at his sweatshirt. Silently requesting he reveal himself to you, too.

He smirks. “All right, hold on.”

He barely has a chance to sit up before you’re reaching for his hem in a desperate attempt to remove it. Making him chuckle as he grabs onto his collar before swiftly pulling it over his head.

And you nearly sigh. Because he’s so ethereal to look at. Every ridge, and tattoo, and scar. The way he breathes, the way he flexes. You can’t help but reach for him, skimming your fingers down the dips and curves of his toned chest and stomach almost reverently as a breath catches in your throat.

And he lets you. Studying you closely while you study your hand. A moment of silence passing before he mumbles, “Baby?”

“Hm?”

He reaches up to tuck a bit of hair behind your ear. “M’gonna have to stretch you a bit before we start, okay? Don’t want to hurt you.”

“Okay,” you answer almost too quickly. “That’s fine. I’m not worried.”

He seems amused. “I know you’re not, but I am. You know I’d never want to hurt you. And I just want to make sure we go at a pace you’re comfortable with.”

There’s an odd sort of fluttering in your chest as you scoot closer and slip your fingers into the curls on his neck. Stroking his roots in an attempt to soothe him. “I’m okay with any pace as long as it’s you.”

“Promise?”

You nudge your nose against his. “Promise.”

Finally, he seems satisfied. “Okay, sweet girl. Then can you lay down for me?”

You’re on your back before he can even finish the question, attempting to intertwine your fingers with his and drag him along with you.

“Cherry,” he laughs again, and the sound is like music. An orchestra of joy and infatuation that you can feel all the way down in your toes. “Can’t be that greedy, can you?”

“I can,” you pant, hips bucking up as he reaches for the silk around your waist. “Just please…”

“Please,” he repeats thoughtfully, pulling his focus to the material he’s slipping down your legs. “You really are my sweet girl, hm?”

Another nod. “Mhm.”

“Guess I have made you wait, yeah?” He discards of the delicate panties before smoothing his palm up the inside of your thigh. “Made you sit and be good?”

“Harry…”

“And you have been,” he muses, ignoring your mewling. “Been so good for me. Think I need to show you how proud I am. And apologize for being so mean to you. For making you go so long without.”

He moves to settle between your parted legs, one hand beside your head to brace himself while the other travels down the expanse of your stomach. Calming the trembling skin and leaving goosebumps behind until he reaches what he’s looking for.

He looks at your face first. Examines your expression and the flutter of your lashes. Stilling just long enough to listen to you breathe. “It’s okay, Cher. I’ve got you.”

You run your fingers through his hair and smile. “I know.”

His thumb is the first thing that finds you. Ghosting gently over your clit and down in order to prepare you. Ease you into the sensation.

You take in a satisfied inhale that melts into a whimper and he grins.

Pushing through your folds, he slows when he finds your arousal. Glancing down to see it for himself. “So warm, baby. Missed this.”

“Missed you,” you nearly whine, and he seems pleased.

The tip of his digit pushes in just far enough to tease you but not enough to satiate you. Leaving a rather hollow feeling in your stomach the moment he pulls back out.

You just about slump into the mattress. “Harry…”

“M’just trying to be gentle,” he says. “And I wanna take my time. Wanna really feel you. Remember this moment.”

Your heart swells. “How oddly sentimental of you.”

He shrugs before pushing the finger back inside. “Maybe you just bring it out of me.”

Your back instantly arches from the bed when he reaches his knuckle. And the gratified look he wears seems to worsen this untamable ache.

“There you go,” he coos. “See? One’s not so bad.”

His pace is slow to begin. Torturous in a sense, but he knows that. He wants to work you up, make you squirm. Have your pleas falling from your tongue like water from the sky.

And of course it works, it always does. You weren’t sure what else you expected, but as he continues this steady rhythm, you feel your sanity slowly begin to come undone until you only have one choice.

“Harry…Harry, please, can’t…can’t—”

“What, sweet girl? Need more?”

Your head quickly motions up and down. “Please…”

“All right.” He pulls back before going again, this time with a stretch a bit more prominent. “Know you can handle two, yeah?”

And he’s right, you can, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t nearly ruin you to do so. Because while two is decidedly much better than one, it’s still not nearly enough. And more importantly, it’s not the one thing you really need.

You pull harder on his hair while you writhe beneath him. Eyelids growing heavy as the sound of his fingers driving into your pussy grows louder. “Harry, please—”

“Shh.” He dips down and trails his lips along your cheek. “Gotta let me do this, baby. Just a bit longer, yeah?”

“Can’t…can’t wait—”

“Yes, you can.” His tone is firm but kind. Encouraging. “Know you can. Let me make you feel good.”

He begins to go faster. Thrusting into your cunt until your pulse is racing at about the same speed.

And he’s beautiful. He’s so goddamn beautiful, it makes you dizzy. Hovered over you on the bed, muscles flexing with each roll of his arm. There’s a soft glow behind his head from the light of his window, illuminating his curls like a halo.

It’s rather fitting, you realize. After all, he is your guardian angel.

“Breathe,” he instructs, kissing down the curve of your throat before finding your chest. “Almost done, yeah? Doing so good for me, look so pretty taking my fingers. Know you’re gonna be so beautiful taking my cock, hm?”

Again, he dangles the image right in front of you, only to take it away before it can fully render. “Har—”

“Shh,” he says again, mouthing at the swell of your breast that’s being pushed up out of your bra. “Gonna give you another. Want you to be still for me, okay?”

With a rather disappointed huff, you oblige, watching as he scoots back just far enough to get a better visual.

Three fingers brings you to the gates of heaven. As does that look in his eye when he sees the way your pussy stretches around the larger digits.

You can quite literally see the groan leave his body as he stares at you, lips parting in mesmerized bliss.

“You okay?” he manages to ask through a strained exhale.

“Yes,” you pant. “Can take more, I promise.”

“More, hm?”

“Yes…yes, please…”

He only hums.

Seconds go by before you’re gasping for air. Nails scraping down his scalp in desperation as he works you open. He’s incredibly focused, proud of the work he’s doing, and of the way your body bends to his will.

“There we go,” he praises softly. “Just like that. So fucking wet, sweet girl. Know it must ache.”

“It does…it does, Harry, please—”

“Got an itch you can’t scratch, yeah? Need me to reach it for you. Need me to fix it.”

“Please…”

“Almost, baby, almost.”

You feel the fourth begin to push in and you suck in a sharp breath.

He stops. “It’s okay,” he murmurs soothingly. “Gonna take me like a good girl. Already doing so good, just a little more. Relax for me.”

You do your best to obey, allowing your limbs to fall limp beside you, despite the tightening of the coil in your stomach.

Even still, it works just enough to allow him more room. Slipping in the added digit until you see stars.

The pumping is loud and driven. Truly an exercise in restraint – for both of you – as the pace begins to quicken and the noises begin to increase.

Then, he brings his other hand into play, and brushes his thumb over your clit.

And you don’t mean to – you didn’t even realize you were so close – but you cum suddenly and with a rather lewd moan that makes his eyelids flutter.

“There,” he whispers, as though entranced. “There we go, good fucking girl.”

You can’t seem to get enough air in your lungs as you come down. And Harry chooses not to help as he finally removes both hands…and begins to pull you apart.

He exposes your clit to the colder air in order to dip down and ghost his mouth across the top. Releasing a warmer breath that sends chills straight down to your toes, making you squirm rather violently.

“Har…Har—” you gasp, fisting the blanket below. “Please, can’t…can’t—”

“Just wanna look at it,” he says simply. “S’so pretty—”

“Harry,” you whimper, writhing beneath his hold. “Harry, this is mean.”

“Mean, hm?” He smirks now and you want to die. “Well, I don’t wanna be mean, baby. Wanna be good for you, just like you are for me.”

You choose to take this as a sign to continue, sitting up just enough to reach for his belt and begin to tug it undone.

He laughs now, glancing down at your frantic fumbling with a knowing grin. “Cherry—”

“No,” you huff. “No, it’s my turn.”

To your surprise, he only hums. “Go ahead, then.”

You do, yanking the belt through each loop before tossing it aside and moving for his zipper. You don’t imagine you’ve ever worked so fast or so hard for something (specifically a cock) in your life.

The moment he’s able to wrangle his dark jeans down his legs, you’re dragging him back down. Ignoring his protests and his reminder that he still has one article of clothing left.

Instead, you work on ridding yourself of your own, unhooking your bra and tossing it into the same pile as his boxers.

And now, as you both settle into your nakedness together, every imperfection on display, you realize you’ve never been more content. Because baring your heart to him was far more vulnerable than baring your skin.

And because this is where you were always meant to be.

“Okay, baby, m’gonna start slow,” he repeats yet again, and you nod. “Just tell me if you want me to stop or slow down, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nearly whine. “I will, I swear.”

“Good. And…shit, a condom, do you…do you have a preference—”

“Pill,” you pant. “I’m on the pill, just go.”

“Are you su—”

“Yes, please. I need to feel you, Harry, please…please.”

“Okay, all right.” He takes hold of your hips and positions you where he wants you before settling between your thighs. “Deep breath, okay? Just keep your eyes on me, I’ve got you.”

Another nod – quicker, more frenzied.

He takes hold of his cock and your eyes nearly roll back. It looks so beautiful in his hand. Just as stunning as you remember, and even though you never imagined you’d find one so appealing, your mouth seems to water.

Your leg hooks around his hip, subtly urging him closer, and he obliges. Giving himself a tug or two before gently trailing the tip down your aching cunt.

He moves up and down to collect a bit of your arousal before he finds your hole and slowly begins to push inside. Sinking in about half an inch before checking with you.

You nearly scream. “It’s okay. It’s okay, keep going.”

“Are you su—”

“Yes.”

His mouth curls up into a knowing grin as he continues. Allowing his cock to slip even further into your waiting pussy while your walls slowly stretch open to accommodate him.

And you’re hardly afforded the chance to enjoy this newer sensation before he suddenly dips down to kiss you. Perhaps an attempt at distraction, although it’s hardly needed. Because now you aren’t sure what to focus on, what feeling to indulge in. From his lips, to his cock, to the way your stomach nearly caves in on itself.

“Fucking shit, baby,” he groans against your tongue. “Shit, you’re so tight…feels so good—”

“I know,” you agree. “God, please don’t stop—”

“No. Never.” He sinks in a bit further and you dig your teeth into his bottom lip. “M’almost there, you still all right?”

“Yes…yeah, I’m perfect. Perfect, promise—”

“That’s my girl,” he nearly seethes before he suddenly drives forward, sheathing himself all the way.

You both still the moment he’s fully inside, his face now disappearing into your shoulder as though to brace himself.

And you wrap your arms around his shoulders in a desperate attempt not to let go. Allowing your body the time it needs to understand this new intrusion and find pleasure with it.

When it finally happens, the stars align.

“Okay,” you pant, gently scratching at his back to garner his attention. “Okay, go.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Need more, Har, please.”

He pulls his hips back and the whimper you release is almost feral. But it seems to do wonders for him, because his expression twists into something desperate, and you feel your chest implode.

He settles into a soft, slow pace. In and out, in and out, in synchronicity with your eager pants for more.

And there’s too much happening all at once. Too much to watch, too much to take pleasure in.

The curls that drip down his forehead, the way his body looks as it connects with yours, the feel of his mouth going down your chest.

He’s everywhere all at once and somehow, it’s still not enough.

“Taste so fucking good,” he mumbles, seemingly to himself. “Could taste you forever.”

He takes your tit into his mouth, tongue flicking at the pebbled skin before nipping at it gently.

You keen, arching from the bed until you nearly knock into him. “Har—”

He hums around your nipple, and you almost cry with frustration and pleasure.

Everything feels slow. Almost too slow but there’s something tender there. He’s not trying to fuck you, he’s trying to feel you. To mold your body to his and it’s rather effective. Because the way you crave him feels like heaven and hell all in the same second.

“Harry,” you whisper, practically deranged as you drag your hands down his chest. Nails tracing patterns down the tattoos across his abdomen. “Please…”

The noise he makes in response to your scratching is almost animalistic in nature, and you nearly flinch as you quickly lower your arms. Upset to have caused him any pain.

“No,” he groans, lifting up to nudge his nose under your jaw. “No, don’t stop. Keep going.”

“What?”

“Keep…shit—” His rhythm falters and you can almost feel the way his dick seems to twitch. “Keep going, s’okay. Want you to scratch me. Want you to hurt me, baby.”

And somehow, this reminder of his pain kink feels almost like a blessing. “Yeah?”

He nods faintly before attempting to resume his pace, and you happily take the lead.

Your fingers hesitantly return to his broad torso. Delicately tracing the muscles as they roll beneath your touch until you gingerly begin to press in. The sharp edge of your nails dancing across the expanse of his already torn skin.

In turn, he releases a strained noise that becomes lost beneath the grateful kisses to your collarbone. And you realize how much he truly enjoys it.

He gives you complete control of his body, of his pleasure. Because the harder you scratch at his scars, the more urgent his thrusts become. Until the sounds echoing around the room begin to echo between your ears. And the slapping of his hips into yours is inescapable.

“Feels so good, Har,” you nearly cry, lifting up just enough to kiss him quickly. “You’re so good to me. Always.”

“Shit.” His eyes about roll back before there’s a sharp snap of his cock into your eager cunt. “Always gonna take care of you. Promise—”

“I know,” you sigh. “I know, I love you.”

You say it now, and suddenly, everything changes.

It doesn’t matter if he’s heard you say it before or if he already knows because the look in his eye nearly guts you.

He’s so…happy. So incredibly happy and endlessly enchanted that he begins to grin. “You love me,” he repeats. Not a question.

You smile as well, and the sentiment seems to explode out of you. “I love you.”

And it’s perfect, this moment. This connection of two bodies and two souls into one. The way you stumbled through the dark until you found each other, and it makes sense. Everything makes sense now with him. Clarity in the truest form.

“I love you,” he echoes, and he means it. You can feel it in every thrust, every syllable, every brush of his lips against yours. “I fucking love you, Cherry—”

“Please,” you gasp, leg dropping to the bed while your arms follow suit. “Har, please—”

“Gonna cum for me again?” He begins to go faster, chasing after your orgasm. “Let me feel you around my cock, sweet girl, come on. Already feel so good—”

“Can’t…can’t—”

“Can’t what, hm? Can’t hold it?” It’s almost sadistic the way he speaks, but you know he’s merely enamored. “I know. I know, it’s okay. You can cum for me, don’t have to wait. Promise I won’t be mad.”

You aren’t sure what you’re about to do, all you know is that you never want this feeling to end. This moment, this security. You just want to touch him, and look at him, and taste him for the rest of your life.

He interrupts your silence as a request for something more, and he offers it in the form of his dominance.

He takes hold of your wrist and hoists it above your head, pinning it to the mattress before settling his weight atop your chest. Trapping you beneath him until you have no other choice but to indulge in everything he has to give.

And you do.

“Sweet little cunt is all mine, isn’t it?” he purrs, teeth nipping below your ear as his fingers intertwine with yours. Holding your hand as he keeps it caged to the bed. “Spent all this time just waiting for me, didn’t you?”

“Yes…yes, fuck, Harry—”

“You were so patient. So good.” He’s growing more determined – sloppy – and your head begins to spin. “God, but you just needed me, yeah? Needed me to make it better—”

“Better,” you repeat almost mindlessly.

“Needed me to erase him—”

“Please—”

“Leave my mark. My fucking mark—”

“Harry—”

“You were never his,” he grits, and you aren’t sure who he’s really trying to convince. “You were never fucking his, you were always mine. And he knew it—”

“Shit, I can’t…can’t—"

His other thumb moves for your clit and you feel tears fill your eyes. “Yes, you can. Know you can, baby, and you will. Always do so good for me, gonna take my cum, aren’t you—”

There’s a strain on your muscles from the way they’re being stretched above your head, but you realize there’s something satisfying about the subtle pull. And when it’s coupled with a firm pinch of the sensitive nerves between the rough pads of his fingers, you start to lose it.

“There – shit – there you go,” he inhales, glancing over your face before watching the way his cock slips in and out of your pussy. Dripping in your arousal and smearing across your thighs. “Take me, just like that. Feels so fucking good, sweet girl, keep going…keep—”

You cry out and writhe helplessly beneath him. Pulling your arms from out of his hold in order to sling them around his neck and cement yourself to his chest.

And you have no choice but to succumb to the pleasure before you feel him follow.

“Fuck—” He surges forward, burying himself in you completely, moans melting into your feverish skin as you cling to each other. “Shit…I love you. I really fucking love you, Cherry.”

You smile lazily before bringing his mouth to yours. “I love you, too.”

He kisses you. All through the moment and then some. Until the sun has disappeared and the moon has been hung between the stars.

And you know that you have never been happier than you are in this moment, right now.

Just you, and him, and a pussy full of cum.

“Darling, we've got some at table six, could you go check on ‘em?”

With a quick nod of your head, you readjust your apron, and grab the notepad Owen is sliding toward you before slipping from the kitchen.

You find the eager customers waiting just beside the counter and take their order with a charming grin and a promise to slip them some leftover pie.

The diner isn’t too busy tonight, and you’re grateful. Now that you’re on dessert duty, you spend a majority of your shifts working on new recipes and finalizing the specials for the coming week.

Truth be told, you rather enjoy this new task. It keeps your mind occupied and your thoughts from drifting.

And baking is your happy place. Your sense of calm amidst a sea of uncertainty, almost rivaling your own true source of serenity.

Harry.

Once you’ve returned to the kitchen, you sneak a glance at the clock. 12:06 A.M. He should be here soon. Probably tired. Perhaps a bit stressed. Hopefully no worse for wear than usual.

Fight nights always tend to leave you on edge. You know he’s more than capable of taking care of himself, but you can’t help but worry. It’s what you do best.

Still, you’re happy for him. Because while pies are your happy place, the boxing ring is his. He’s only ever wanted to fight – to make money, channel his anger into something good. And perhaps it’s not a sustainable lifestyle, but for right now, it’s what he wants to do.

And you respect his choice. You’ll respect any choice he makes, as long as he’s the one making it. Instead of it being made for him.

Besides, without Jesse there, you find that Harry tends to have a lot more fun. He leaves the fights with a busted lip but a bright smile, and it makes your heart swell until it feels as though there’s no more room in your chest.

Last you heard, Jesse left town. Harry refused to tell you what really went down at the club once the other members found out, but you decided that was probably for the best. No matter what fond memories you still have of your childhood friend, he’s not who he used to be. And you won’t ever be able to change that.

But for the first time in a long time…you’re okay with that.

The clock continues to tick the seconds away, and with each passing one, you grow a tad more anxious. Your guardian angel is late. At least by a few minutes, and you scurry about the diner as your thoughts race about a mile a moment.

And then, just as you’re readjusting the cake stands and tidying up the dessert display, you see it.

Your not-so-strange stranger is here.

He’s sitting in his favorite booth, fifth one down from the first row, directly next to the window.

He’s got his usual hoodie pulled over his head, obscuring any view of his face. His clothes are dark and seem to cover nearly every inch of his skin. His knuckles are wrapped in that familiar, white gauze, and are stained with streaks of red.

But he’s looking down. Staring at the menu on the table as though he doesn’t order the exact same thing every time.

And you grin wider than you have all day.

“Hi, Cherry,” he calls the moment his head lifts, allowing you a better look at his stunningly damaged face as you scurry closer. “Missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” you nearly giggle, slipping off your apron before sliding into the seat across from him. “How was it?”

“Easy,” he snorts, but there’s a sparkle in his eye. “And I have good news.”

“Oh?”

“M’off for the next few days. Thought you could come over…and not leave.”

You laugh as you reach across the table to take his hand in yours. “I like the sound of that.”

“Yeah? Good.” He glances down at your interlocked fingers almost fondly. “Hey, you know what I just realized?”

“What?”

Now, a mischievous expression begins to form. “I never introduced myself.”

And for some reason…you can’t help but laugh.

“So,” he begins, rather charmingly as he raises your hand in order to shake it formally, “hi.”

And you really fucking love him.

“I’m Harry Styles.”

I CAN'T BELIEVE WE'RE AT THE END!! This has been such a fun story, and SUCH a wild ride that I feel very lucky to have gotten to take with so many incredibly wonderful people!!

Thank you so much to everyone who's followed along and left the nicest comments or notes!! I cannot tell you what it means to me!!

Harry and Cherry will def be back for extras soon, but until then...I love you 🥹♥️ Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Previous Part:

~ Uppercut*

~ Full Knockout Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

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sink-me-in-your-ocean · 7 months

Text

𝔊𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔥 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰 II

How would the Ghouls & Copia manhandle you when you’re being naughty?

Prompt by the illustrious @endhisbloodlineinmyesophagus

NSFW/Suggestive below the cut.

Copia:

At first, he doesn’t realize why you’re doing what you’re doing

But then he puts the pieces together, and it makes his hands twitch

He makes you lay across his knees, never needing to ask more than once

He’s going to spank you with his gloved hands

He makes you count each one

“How many was that?”

“Five.”

“You’re not counting properly, either that or you’re lying intentionally. I have no idea why you’d do such a thing.”

“I’d never say less with the intention of you giving me more on purpose.”

“I’m beginning to think these punishments aren’t working on you anymore, amore. Let’s try something else...”

Swiss:

Won’t hesitate to put you on a leash when you step out of line

When a leash won’t work he’ll resort to other methods

Ties. You. Down.

He will step back to admire his handiwork on you, after a moment of staring he forgets your transgressions because of how good you look tied up

He’s lost in the sauce

“Sweet fucking hells, you’ve never looked better.”

The gag in your mouth keeps you from speaking.

“Remind me, what were you doing that was so bad earlier?”

“Hrmph - ” The sound was muffled.

“Shhh, don’t talk with your mouth full. Now just stay right there.”

Phantom:

When you act up, it flips a switch in his brain

Picks you up with ease from the side, lifting you bridal style into his arms

The tightness of his grip on you speaks volumes to his possessiveness

He scans for an unoccupied room, hells, even a dark corner to take you

He needs you immediately and he knows you need him just as badly

“Oh you’ve done it now, you’ve got my attention, so let’s go.”

“Phantom, slow down!”

“No. You fired me up now you can bring me back down.” He sets you down once you’re behind closed doors. “On your fucking knees.”

You kneel in front of him, eager to please him after misbehaving.

“Oh fuck, yes, such a good girl, just like that.”

Dewdrop/Sodo:

Misbehaving is a broad term to this ghoul, in fact, he likes when you’re naughty

Except when you give any attention to his brothers

Now that is a sure-fire way to pour gasoline on his flames

He comes up behind you when you least expect it (see where this is going?)

His long fingers wrap around your throat, pressing intentionally on your arteries, your head swooning in seconds

“Don’t go all limp on me yet.”

“But, Dew -” you whimper.

“Come on, you know exactly what you do to me. It was intentional, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now I’m going to be very intentional with you. I’m not letting you out of my sight the rest of the night.”

Rain:

He has infinite patience, at least until you vex him

And boy howdy, once you’ve crossed that bridge you’d better be prepared

There’s a determined look in his eye as he stalks towards you

He grabs your wrist, and even if you try to pull away, it’s impossible, his grip strength is too much

He drags you with him through the nearest corridor to a quiet space

“You’re going to be nice and quiet now for me.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Then I’ll make you.”

His hand clamps over your lips shockingly fast, leaving you a thin line to breathe from your nose.

“I love seeing you get a taste of your own medicine. Don’t like it when I match your energy? Don’t misbehave.”

Mountain:

Sits and watches stoically as you make a fool out of yourself

Doesn’t need to say anything

Doesn’t need to do anything, but he does

He easily scoops you up, throwing you over his shoulder

He could spank you from here, but he prefers his partner underneath him (If you know what I mean)

“You do have to do all of that to get my attention, you know.” He plops you on his bed, climbing on top of you.

“I know, but maybe I’m looking for bad attention.”

“Yeah?”

You whine and writhe underneath him as he smacks (not hard) the thickness of your outer thigh.

“That’s what you want? Just ask next time, little villainess.”

Just da bois this time, but if you’d like me to include the ghoulettes pls just comment, I’m happy to oblige a fellow ghoulette lover! ( *︾▽︾)

Ghoulette Version Here!

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sunflowergirl522 · 1 year

Text

The Other Wheeler 1

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Wheeler!Reader

Summary: you’re normally the forgotten Wheeler to anyone other than Mikes friends but Eddie is captivated by you upon first glance.

Word Count: 7600

A/N: This series is just gonna be updated whenever I can get myself to focus on it. I was gonna wait till I had at least part 2 finished before posting it but Lea really wanted me to finally post it and who would I be if I kept my biggest fan waiting.

Eddie Masterlist

“Mike, come on, let's go!” Nancy yells for your brother who’s waiting for his waffles to pop out of the toaster. This is how almost every day of school has gone so far because Nancy has to get there early to do stuff with the school's paper. “I swear to God I’m going to leave you here and you can bike to school!”

“I’m coming!” He yells back through a mouthful of Eggo.

“I could always drive you.” You offer watching him wince as he grabs his newly toasted waffles. You’re just now getting yourself breakfast since you don’t have to leave for another twenty minutes. You’ve offered the same thing almost every morning and each time you’ve gotten the same response.

“It’s fine, thanks though.” He smiles at you before shoving a waffle in his mouth.

“Mike!”

“I’m coming!” He slings his bag over his shoulder as he runs out the door following your sister to her car. You’re not shocked that he picks Nancy again, it’s what everyone seems to do. To everyone other than Mike's friends you’re the forgotten Wheeler. Even your parents seem to forget you exist unless they’re comparing you to Nancy or other kids your age. You sigh before turning your attention back to the bowl of cereal in front of you. When you leave you make sure to grab the textbook Mike forgot on the counter again.

“Who’s that lost sheep over there?” Eddie asks after a while of watching the girl sitting alone bobbing her head along to whatever is playing through her headphones and doing what looks like homework while picking at the little food in front of her. He had seen her in a couple of his classes this year already and she intrigued him because she always was just listening to music or doing the work assigned. He’s not sure he’s heard or seen her talk until earlier that day when he spotted her talking to Mike and handing him a book. “Wheeler, you know her don’t you?”

“Huh?” Mike follows where the older man's attention is before turning back to him and shrugging. “Oh, yeah. That’s my sister Y/n.”

“I didn’t know you had a second sister.” Eddie leans forward and the rest of the club nods along, a little surprised to hear that.

“Y/n’s the best, Mike doesn’t talk about her for whatever reason though.” Dustin chimes in, glaring a little at his friend. “If she was my sister I’d talk about her all the time.”

“You do talk about her all the time.” Mike rolls his eyes going back to paying attention to his food. “I’m shocked you haven’t told Eddie about her yet.”

“She never came up in conversation.” Dustin shrugs, turning back to look at Eddie. “She’s been driving me here in the mornings.”

“She’s been driving you to school? And you let her?” Mike sputters out not being able to believe this. But really he shouldn’t be surprised because from the first time you came down to the basement to offer the boys freshly baked cookies during a dungeons and dragons session Dustin and even Lucas and Will had all but claimed you as their own. Dustin even had a crush on you for the longest time before it faded away.

“Yeah, you should really take her up on her offers to drive you y'know, or you’ll be stuck coming in early with Nancy all year.”

“Y/n’s car is being held together with duct tape Dustin, duct tape. I’m not getting in that death trap.” Eddie smiles a little as he watches the two freshman bicker before turning his attention back to the Wheeler he didn’t know existed until now.

You’re oblivious to the attention you’re getting. You’re too focused on getting the math homework that’s due next period done that you didn’t have time to do after closing Elixir Records last night. You loved working at the little music store in town, it’s why you were so okay with working right after school till close, but sometimes you had to rush last minute to get your school work done because of how busy it could get. Normally you get your homework for that night done at lunch or at work with the rare time of having to stay up when you got home to finish it. Last night was one of those once in a blue moon times that you still had some to do but you were so tired from running around the shop trying to get the stock done that your coworker who walked out the day before, your day off, was supposed to do that you had passed out at your desk.

You’re distracted by finishing up the worksheet and the music flowing through your ears so you don’t notice Dustin walking up to you. His presence is so sudden and unexpected that when you glance up and see him standing in front of you you jump a bit in your seat. You pull your headphones down to sit around your neck and drop the pencil in your hand so he knows he has your full attention.

“Jeez Dustbunny give a girl some warning before popping up out of the blue.”

“Sorry, I thought maybe you would’ve noticed me coming.”

“What do you need, bud?”

“I was just wondering if you were still willing to take me home after school? If not that’s fine Eddie offered to give me a ride since he wanted to talk to me about this new campaign he’s planning for Hellfire.” The boy in front of you points with his thumb over his shoulder at the older boy who ducks his head down when you peer around Dustin to look his way.

You knew of Eddie Munson, it was hard not to have at least heard of him before. He was in some of your classes this year and Dustin’s told you about him and their club during the drive to school. You admired how he took your brother and his friends under his wing almost immediately. You’ve never interacted with him yourself but you knew he wasn’t the freak everyone wanted to see him as.

“Yeah I can still drive you home, I told Lucas I’d give him a ride too. But if you wanna go with Eddie that works for me. It’ll give me a smidge more time to get ready for work.”

“Okay, I’ll let him know. Are you closing the shop again tonight?”

“Yeah, you want me to see if there’s anything good in the clearance section for you again?” He smiles wide at the offer. He loved when you presented him with music you thought he’d like that you found on sale at work. Sometimes you’d even hand him a tape of an album that just came out.

“If you have time, yeah. I’ll let you get back to your work.” He motions to the almost complete worksheet in front of you. “I’ll see you tomorrow Y/n!”

“See ya Dustin.” You smile at the boy before he turns and heads back to his table. You put your headphones back on, giving Eddie a small wave when your eyes meet, and get back to finishing up the last two problems before you can move on to the work you’ve been given for tonight.

“Tomorrow we’ll be picking lab partners for the first big project of the year.” Ms. O’Donnell rushes out after the bell rings and everyone starts collecting their things. Picking partners is your least favorite thing and you wish she would’ve just assigned them like most other teachers. You have no idea who you’d pick with not really making the effort to become friends with anyone anymore. After Barb ditched you to be better friends with Nancy you stopped trying, you figured anyone else would just do the same thing. As you make your way out of the classroom you see Eddie in the corner of your eye finishing up a doodle in his notebook, something you’ve noticed he does a lot instead of paying attention. Maybe you’ll see if he wants to be your lab partner because you doubt anyone is going to be fighting to be his. You don’t even care about doing all the work if you have to.

You rush down the hall knowing that Lucas is probably gonna beat you to your locker. His last class is right next to his own and that’s down the hall from yours. You dive around people in the halls who are moving slowly distracted by talking to their friends instead of hurrying to get home. You smile when you see Lucas walking up to your locker unlocking it for you.

“You ready to go?” You ask, grabbing your bag and shoving your notebooks into it.

“Yeah, are we waiting for Dustin and Mike?”

“No, Dustin’s getting a ride with Eddie and Mike told me he’s going home with Nancy again.” You both make your way down the hallway towards the entrance of the school. “How were basketball tryouts yesterday?”

“They were alright, I think I made the team but I won’t be sure until next week.”

“Well if you didn’t make the team they’re dumb. You’re a great player, I mean you always beat me when we play together.” You bump your shoulder into his own and he laughs at you.

“Yeah that’s because you suck at sports.” You send him a mock hurt face over the roof of your car.

“That’s the rudest thing anyone has ever said to me.” Lucas just rolls his eyes getting into the car and you shoot him a smile once you’re seated next to him. “Seriously though Lukey I’m sure you made the team you’ve been practicing since you found out about the team.”

“Stop using that nickname Y/n, I’m not a little kid anymore.” He groans out but turns to look out of the window so you can’t see the small smile on his face.

“I’ll never stop. Now let’s go get your sister and blow this popsicle stand.” With that you pull out of the parking spot and start over to the middle school.

You make it to work twenty minutes early but after getting home and changing your dad started going on about how you need to do stuff for college already and how Nancy already filled out college applications. All you wanted to do was scream about how that’s because Nancy knew what she wanted to do after high school and the only thing on your radar is moving out as soon as you graduate. You didn’t though, you had stopped responding to his tangents with anything other than ‘yeah I’ll get right on that dad’ since the first time you got held back in the eighth grade.

You searched through the cassettes on sale deciding on the Eagles first album to get for Dustin before checking that you can clock in. You spend the first hour of your shift restocking the vinyls that are getting low. Once that’s finished you switch out the album that had finished playing over the store's speakers for a new one before moving behind the counter for the next six hours of your shift. After checking out the two people that were in the shop you pull out the book assigned for English to get the next chapter read for the day after tomorrow. You’re halfway through it when the bell above the door chimes once more and you glance up from it to find Eddie Munson himself entering the store. You giggle at his wide eyes from the sound of the new bell and his head snaps from where it’s tilted up to examine where the chime came from to where you’re sitting behind the counter. His mouth parts slightly as you give him a friendly smile before looking back down at the book and continuing reading.

Eddie stumbles a bit at seeing you here. He’s been buying albums from this store almost exclusively since it opened and he’s never seen you here. He never would’ve thought that the intriguing girl he just found out was Mike’s sister would be working at his favorite music store the night he came for a fucking Abba album. His eyes keep finding their way to your slouched over figure as he makes his way over to where he knows he’ll find their Super Trouper album. On his way to the counter he grabs a Megadeth album that he definitely already has to make this situation less weird.

“Did you find everything okay?” You ask putting in the bookmark and shutting the book before placing it off to the side.

“Yeah.” He so badly wants to say something else to you but his mind blanks as he hesitantly places the tapes on the counter.

“Do you wanna be my lab partner in Ms. O’Donnells class?” You blurt it out as you ring him up.

“What?”

“We’re in the same science class and she said we’re picking lab partners tomorrow.”

“No, I know that. You want to be mine?”

“Well yeah. Why not? Unless you already have one of course. I just don’t really have anyone else I’d want to do it with.” Your voice softens near the end and Eddie can see a hint of loneliness flash across your face before you try to cover it up with a smile. He can tell that’s what it is based on your words, tone, and the fact that he’s felt the same way before. It’s not often people want to hang around the town freak.

“Nah I don’t have one yet. So if you’ll have me Y/n I’ll be your partner.”

“You know who I am?”

“Yeah, I noticed you sitting alone at lunch today and Mike and Dustin told me about you.” He rubs the back of his neck a little embarrassed to admit that he was watching you.

“Mike was talking about me? Willingly?” The disbelief is strong in your voice and it shocks Eddie because as soon as the two boys had started talking about you they couldn’t seem to stop.

“Why do you sound so shocked about that?” Eddie leans his elbows on the counter resting his weight on them.

“Oh, it’s just I don’t know, Mike never seems to be all that interested in being related to me I guess. It’s not that we have a bad relationship or anything, he just seems to want to be around Nancy more. Probably because they’re closer in age.” You add in the last part more to reassure yourself.

“Really? He seemed to have nothing but good things to say about you and I’ve never seen him talk about Nancy with the sort of excitement he had today. And Dustin seems to absolutely adore you.” You can feel yourself getting flustered at his words and his scrutinizing gaze.

“Oh I love Dustin, he’s my little Dustbunny.” You look away as you begin to bag up his items and he chuckles at the nickname.

“Dustbunny?”

“Oh shit, don’t tell him you know that. As much as Mike's friends enjoy my nicknames for them, they hate when I use them in public for everyone else to hear. You should see Lucas’s face when I use his, he’s slapped a hand over my mouth before.” You laugh just thinking about it and Eddie finds himself hoping to hear the sound again. “Their friend Will gets absolutely blushy when I say his a little too loudly.”

“Oh I definitely need to know what all of their nicknames are.” You shake your head and mimic zipping your mouth shut and throwing the key over the counter. “You can’t just tell me they hate them and not tell me!” Eddie complains before diving to act like he’s searching for the key and jumping up victoriously and acting out unlocking your mouth. “Please, you’re killing me here Y/n.” You ignore the feeling of his fingers on your lips as he unzips them and laugh as you knock his hand away.

“Fine I’ll tell you Will’s since he’s all the way in Cali and it’s unlikely you’ll meet him anytime soon.” You let out another round of giggles at how he perks up at hearing that. “I call him Yam Yam. It started as just calling him Will Yam since his full name is William but then I discovered how much fun it is to call out Yam Yam instead. Now that’s it, forget you heard his and Dustins, no one needs to know that you know alright?”

“I’m not promising anything.” He holds his hands up and shakes his head before pointing at you. “You shouldn’t have fallen into my trap and told me.”

“That’s not fair, how's anyone supposed to deny your big puppy dog eyes?” The bell above the door chimes again and you quiet down since someone else has entered the store. “How about this, you don’t bring up the nickname thing to them and I won’t tell everyone about how our resident metalhead is a secret Abba head?”

“Fine, you drive a hard bargain.”

“Your total is thirteen dollars by the way.” He places a ten and a five dollar bill on the counter while taking the bag from you.

“Keep the change.” He motions towards the tip jar next to the register. “I know all about your taped together car.”

“Get out of here I will not tolerate disrespect towards my sweet sweet car. I’ll see you tomorrow Eddie.” He laughs as you shoo him away and listens to you greet the next customer on his way out the door. He can’t seem to shake his smile the rest of the night.

The next day you’re a little shocked when Eddie takes a seat next to you in your shared third period English class. As he pulls out the chair next to you he also pulls your headphones down to rest on your neck. It causes you to immediately straighten up not sure who it was at first but relax when you see the brunette take a seat next to you.

“So, do I get a fun little nickname now that we’re friends?”

“Who said we’re friends now?”

“Uh, you did when you asked me to be your lab partner. You signed a contract and everything. Is that Motley Crue playing?” He takes the headphones you’ve placed on the table while you went to stop your walkman and places them on his head just before the music cuts off.

“I don’t remember signing any kind of contract, you'll have to talk to my lawyer. And then maybe we’ll see about that nickname you want.” You smile at him, taking the headphones back and turning to face the teacher as he starts to speak. Eddie’s attention stays on you for a little bit longer before pulling out his notebook and starting to doodle instead of paying attention.

At lunch Eddie spends the first half of it with his attention drifting from the guys over to where you’re sitting doing the same thing as yesterday. His legs bounces up and down as he fights the urge to get up and go bother you. In the end he loses the battle and pushes away from the table the screeching of the chair on the floor causing Dustin to stop mid sentence as the group watches him walk over to you.

“So, I’ve spoken to your lawyer, sadly the contract is binding and you’re stuck with me.” He says after knocking your headphones down over your face. You let out a fake sigh of disappointment as he sits next to you spreading out.

“I guess I am, you sure he couldn’t find some sort of loophole? He’s normally so good at that.”

“Nope. What are you working on?” He pulls your notebook to sit in front of him instead of you. “This doesn’t look like a list of nicknames for you to choose from.”

“It’s my psych notes. I gotta study now for the test tomorrow because I probably won’t have time tonight after work. Don’t worry though Eddie I had a nickname picked out for you from the very beginning.” You pull said notes back to you watching how his face lights up at your words. You can’t help but match his smile with one of your own.

“What is it?”

“You’ll find out when you’ll find out.” You shrug and look away from him back down at your notes.

“What kind of an answer is that?” You laugh as his arms flail around with his question.

“Looks like someones cozying up with Y/n.” Dustin teases Mike as they watch the two of you laugh together.

“Shut up Dustbunny.” Mike grumbles to his friend as he turns away and focuses on his food again in a mood over Eddie seeming to be into his sister.

“You’re not supposed to call me that Mikey Mouse.” Dustin kicks Mike under the table. “You gonna go all overprotective little brother mode on him?”

“Pft no why would I?”

“Because you do that. You don’t notice how you start acting towards people who seem to want to get close to her? You come off real standoffish and try to seem tougher like that’s possible.”

“I do not, just shut up Dustin.”

“Dustin! Are you coming or what?” You yell out seeing him across the parking lot at Eddie’s van. “We gotta pick up Erica!”

“I’m coming!” Once he’s in the car with you and Lucas you drive up next to Eddie and stop. “If you were coming here anyway, why'd you yell for me?”

“Because you should’ve already been in the car.” You lean over the middle console and Lucas to stick your head out the window. “Hey Eddie, you coming over to work on the project still?”

“Yeah, do you want me to follow you?” He leans down so your heads are closer together.

“No you can just head straight there since I gotta drop Dustin off first. You remember which house it is right? I know you’ve given Mike rides home after club meetings before.”

“Yeah, I remember where it is. So I’ll meet you there?”

“Yep.”

“You guys done throwing goo goo eyes at each other over me?” Lucas complains and you give him a side eye.

“Shut up Lukey Poo-” You’re cut off as Lucas throws a hand over your mouth wide eyed and pulls you back in the car.

“Okay bye Eddie she’ll see you in like not even twenty minutes! Y/n go, drive, Erica’s gonna be all crabby if we’re late again.”

“We’ll just blame it on Dustin again. See you soon Eddie!” Eddie laughs as you peel out of the parking lot turning into the middle schools. He’s pretty sure he was about to find out your nickname for Lucas if the kid hadn't pulled you back into the car. His mission is to find out your nicknames for each of the freshmen at some point.

“See you tomorrow Dustbunny!” You yell getting the middle finger in response from where he is on his doorstep. You laugh as you watch him get inside before pulling away and heading home. As you drive up your street you spot Eddie getting out of his van and Lucas groans.

“Y/n please do not yell that goddamn nickname as I walk away. Not with Eddie right there.”

“No Y/n do it.”

“Erica shut up, you’re just lucky for not having one yet.” You laugh at the Sinclairs pulling into the spot in front of the house sitting between your house and their own. You weren’t planning to use it before but now you think you will just because he complained about it. You let the kids get out first, giving Lucas time to walk away and feel safe before getting out yourself.

“Hey Eddie.” You step out of your car and give him a wave. “Hold on just one minute. Bye Erica, bye Lukey Pookey, see you both tomorrow!” Eddie laughs as the younger kids groan is loud enough that it reaches his ears.

“Lukey Pookey?”

“I normally just use the first part but when he annoys me or I can tell he’s really upset I use the full nickname. Now c’mon you get to meet the parents on our way up to my room.” Eddie’s head swims with thoughts of being a disappointment to your parents and immediately not getting an approval from them. Meanwhile you’re getting ready for whatever it is your father might say to you in front of your new friend. He’s sitting in his normal chair when you enter and you give him a wave and a smile. Your mom isn’t anywhere to be seen but you’re sure she’s in the kitchen making dinner. “Hey dad, this is Eddie, we’re gonna go work on our science project.”

“Nice to see you actually put in the effort. Maybe you’ll actually graduate this year instead of failing again.” Your heart drops at the same time that your eye twitches and your smile falls for the fraction of a millisecond, both things that Eddie catches. He doesn’t even look up from his paper to greet Eddie as he speaks.

“Yeah, that’s the plan.” You grab Eddie's wrist and quickly make your escape from the living room and into the kitchen where your mom is getting ready to make dinner it seems. “Mom this is Eddie, we’re gonna be upstairs working on a science project if you need us.”

“Is he staying for dinner?” You look at Eddie expecting him to answer the question while your mom straightens up.

“Uh, no that’s fine Mrs. Wheeler, I don't want to be a bother.”

“You wouldn’t be a bother. I normally make more food than I should in case one of Mike's friends stops by out of the blue. Not that I would need to worry about not having enough, Y/n barely ever eats with us anymore so her portion goes uneaten.” You stop the eye roll that wants to happen at how she’s trying to guilt trip you again. It’s not your fault you have to work all the time in order to pay off your car when they just straight up bought Nancy one. And you wouldn’t need to save up to get a place of your own if your dad wasn’t awful to you.

“Eddie would love to stay for dinner mom. We should really start working on our project now though.” You pull Eddie away and up the stairs pausing in your journey only to wave to Mike who’s jaw drops at seeing Eddie trail behind you.

“So, they seem interesting.” Eddie says about your parents once your door is shut and you’ve collapsed face first onto your bed. You wish you could scream into your pillow right about now.

“Yeah, interesting is definitely a word for them.” You roll onto your back and Eddie sits next to you.

“What did your dad mean about failing again? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

“I’m two years older than Nancy. The first time I got held back and failed was in the eighth grade because I had a hard time getting myself to get out of bed most mornings so I just didn’t go to school. My mom helped me get through a lot that year actually. And then I failed sophomore year because I kept skipping in order to go to work to get my car. My dad refuses to let me live either of those times down, always bringing up how pretty perfect Nancy never had to get held back.”

“Well failing isn’t that bad, I mean look at me I’m going on try number three on senior year. Schools tough, especially when you’ve got other things distracting you from it. Besides, you're not gonna fail this year because everytime I see you, you're busy working on something for classes since all your free time is at the shop. So you’ll be off to college and out of here in no time.” You smile at his words and sit up to kiss his cheek.

“Thanks Eddie, I’ll make sure you graduate this year too.”

Dinner has an awkward vibe around it that night. Eddie sits next to you, the both of you across from Mike and Nancy, the two of them not seeming to know how to act with your guest around. Nancy keeps side eyeing him while Mike just stares into Eddie’s soul. Your parents both sit at the heads of the table silently eating until your dad clears his throat.

“You wouldn’t happen to be that Munson kid would you?” His words cause you to choke on your food and Eddie sends you a worried glance before looking at your dad.

“Yes sir, that's me.”

“Didn’t you flunk out of high school?”

“No sir, I just failed senior year twice because I was too focused on my club. I’m graduating this year though my friends are helping me stay on track.”

“Y/n are you sure this is the type of person you want to surround yourself with?” You nearly spit out your drink.

“Dad!”

“I’ve heard some rumors about this kid and colleges aren’t going to want to accept you if you’re friends with freaks.’

“Ted!” Your mom exclaims while your siblings look at him wide eyes and mouths gaping. They haven’t seen the two of you in a fight in a while but Mike knows that this is definitely going to start one either between the two of you or with him and his dad.

“Eddie’s not a freak! I can’t believe you would call him that when Mikes into the same stuff that gets him called one. Eddie’s nothing but a sweetheart, you should see how he stands up for Mike and his friends and how at home they are with him. And who cares what colleges think of my friends, I don’t even think I’m going!” Your mom gasps along with Nancy. Mike is busy moving his eyes between you and your dad and Eddie places a calming hand on your knee.

“Mrs. Wheeler, this meal is just delightful. I think it might be the best food I’ve had in a while.” Eddie says smiling towards your mom to try to break the tension a little bit. It’s not a lie either, with Wayne going to the plant early lately he’s mainly just been eating scraps.

“Oh! Thank you Eddie, feel free to come by for dinner whenever you like.”

“Sure thing!” With that everyone goes back to eating and Eddie leans over to whisper in your ear. “Next time, let’s do this at my place.”

“Yeah definitely.” You whisper back to him before focusing on your food hoping if you eat quickly enough you can escape with Eddie without another comment from your father.

You walk Eddie to the door and wait until he gets into his van later wanting to kill time before having to go in and deal with the consequences of your words earlier. Hopefully you can avoid him altogether and go straight to your room but you can feel the storm brewing from outside. You just know he’s waiting inside getting ready for a screaming match. Something the two of you haven’t had since your second year as a sophomore and you started picking up every shift you could so as to avoid him as much as possible.

“Y/n.” His stern yelling but not a yell voice reaches your ears as you start to walk past the living room making you wince before backtracking.

“What?” You cross your arms standing in the entrance refusing to look away from him to glance at Mike and Nancy on the couch. You refuse to let him think he makes you even a little bit nervous by breaking eye contact first.

“You really are stupid if you think we’re not talking about what you said at dinner.”

“I’m not stupid, I just don’t want to talk about it with you.” You grit your teeth feeling the anger boiling up inside you.

“You’re going to college Y/n. You’re not going to be a burn out working at the music shop and living at home the rest of your life.”

“I won’t be. As soon as I graduate I’m gonna find my own place to live and you won’t have to worry about me anymore.” Mike’s eyes go wide at hearing this information, he didn’t know you were planning on moving out. Were you going to stay in town, or were you going to get the hell out of dodge? Was this year his last year to have a relationship with you before he only sees you on major holidays? Is he going to lose his big sister because his dad is that big of an asshole? He starts to get anxious at the thought and gets stuck in his head for a bit tuning out the fight in front of him.

“And I don’t want you hanging around that Munson kid anymore, he’s a bad influence on you. He’s probably the reason you think you don’t have to go to college.” You force out a fake laugh at his words and Mike’s attention goes back to the two of you.

“That’s rich, you never cared about who my friends were before so don’t try to care now. Why don’t you just open up and tell me exactly what you want to say about him.”

“No daughter of mine is going to be hanging around a known satanist!” You actually laugh at his words this time feigning wiping tears from your eyes.

“That’s funny, really it is. Because even if that were true, which it’s not, that means a satanist takes better care of your son than you do. And you should be embarrassed about that regardless of what religion Eddie may be. You’re supposed to be the protector aren’t you? So why is Eddie the one batting away the bullies and building up his self esteem and doing your job for you?”

“Get out! And don’t come back until you have a head back on your shoulders.” He points to the door and you put your hands up in surrender.

“What?” Nancy and Mike both look at each other in shock.

“Fine, I guess I won’t be coming back.” You turn on your heel and run to your room in order to pack up some clothes and buy you some time to figure out where you’re going to go. Worst case scenario you could see if Steve would let you crash at his place for a few nights. Sure the two of you aren’t the best of friends but you’re close enough after everything you’ve been through together to know that he probably wouldn’t say no. By the time you’re heading for the door you’ve decided on trying Eddie’s first, knowing where he lives because of seeing him here and there when you’ve gone to Max’s to pick her up.

“Hey, Y/n?” Mike stops you before you can leave.

“What’s up Mikey Mouse?”

“Do you think you could drive me to school tomorrow?” Your heart swells at him wanting to spend time with you.

“Of course I can bud.” You ruffle his hair. “Can you tell mom I love her when she gets home? I was hoping she’d be home before I left so I could say bye.” She had taken Holly out for ice cream after dinner and hasn’t gotten back yet.

“How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

“I’ll be back when he stops being an ass. So probably in a couple days after mom reems him out and makes him apologize.”

“Where are you going to go?” He follows you out the door towards your car and you can’t help but smile at his worry.

“Don’t worry about me kid, I'll figure it out. I’ll see you tomorrow morning okay? We’re driving the Sinclairs and Dustin too.” You get in the car and start it before thinking about it and winding down your window to stick your head out to look at your brother. “I love you Mikey Mouse.”

“I love you too Y/n/n.” You beam at him and drive off towards your destination.

“Y/n?” The sound of Max’s voice calling out to you causes you to spin around to face her trailer instead of Eddie’s. She’s crouched outside feeding her dog and straightens up as she realizes it really is you waving and walking towards her. She meets you halfway letting you give her a hug, something she hasn’t really been letting anyone do. “What are you doing here?”

“Pops kicked me out so I’m gonna see if I can crash at Eddie’s.”

“Do you wanna just crash here? My mom won’t mind, I think she’d even be excited that I had someone over.” You can hear the worry in her voice at the thought of you being kicked out.

“Nah, I’m good, Eddie and I gotta work more on this science project anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah don’t worry Max and Cheese, if I can’t stay or I get uncomfortable at all I’ll come running right back over.”

“You better.” You nod at her letting go of her shoulders and heading back over to Eddie’s.

“Hey!” You yell out as she turns to head towards her door. “You want a ride to school tomorrow? I’m getting the others too. It can be like old times when I’d drive the clown car full of all of you down to the arcade.”

“Is there gonna be room in your car for that?”

“Even if there isn't, we'll make it work, we always have in the past.” There’s something on your face making her want to finally say yes to the question you’ve been asking her all year.

“Well then yeah sure. I’ll take a ride.”

“Great, see you tomorrow!” You’re smiling despite everything when you knock on Eddie’s door. Even if Max just has her headphones on and ignores everyone the whole way to school it’s still a win in your book.

“Y/n?” Eddie’s voice is full of shock as he opens the door to find you standing there with a duffel bag thrown over your shoulder.

“Hey Eds, can I come in?” He holds open the door and steps to the side before smirking in your direction. Upon seeing him in his pajamas you worry that you may have caught him right as he was going to bed but then he probably wouldn’t have let you in so quickly.

“Eds? Is that the nickname you came up with? I thought you’d be more creative than that.”

“Oh don’t worry, you just have a couple of them.”

“So…”

“So?”

“What are you doing here Sweetheart? How did you even know where I lived?”

“Um well, funny story actually,” you offer up a sad chuckle, “my dad kinda kicked me out tonight. We really got into it after you left. I saw you over here when I helped Max and her mom move into the trailer across the street.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He steps closer to you wanting to scratch the itch he has to pull you into his chest.

“Not really, I basically told him he should be embarrassed that you’re doing a better job raising Mike than he ever did and that seemed to be the thing that crossed the line. So that’s that. Do you think I could crash here for a night or two until my mom eventually figures out where I am and convinces me to come home?”

“Yeah of course. You can have the bed and I’ll sleep out here on the couch.”

“What? Eddie no I couldn’t take your bed. I’m the one intruding, I'll sleep on the couch.”

“Nope, can’t let you do that besides Wayne might get weird if he sees a pretty girl asleep on the couch when he gets home in the morning.” He gently grabs your wrist and pulls you through the little space there is to his room. “Sorry it’s a bit of a mess, can’t say I was expecting company.” He’s quick to kick the magazines laying on the floor under his bed while ducking down to grab the dirty clothes strewn across the floor to throw them in his hamper. He’s blushing up a storm as your eyes drag across the poster covered walls.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve seen messier. I mean I live with Mike. Is this a lion costume?” Your eyes snag on his open closet and you reach out to touch it. And here Eddie thought he couldn’t get any redder.

“Yeah, I was the cowardly lion in the school's production of The Wizard of Oz a year or two back.”

“Oh yeah, I remember going to see that. Corroded Coffin’s your band right?” Eddie watches as you step up to look at the ripped poster he and the guys had made before one of their first shows.

“Yeah it’s just me and the older guys from Hellfire.”

“Are you the reason Mike’s been eyeing up the guitar in the music shop lately? I think I’m gonna get it for him as a really early Christmas present when I get paid next.”

“He’s asked me a few times about playing and I told him I would teach him how to. He doesn’t even need to have his own guitar; he could use one of mine while he learns.” Speaking of guitars Eddie grabs the one he left on the bed before going to get the door and leans it in the corner of the room. “So the bathroom is right out there, hopefully you brought your own toothbrush because we don’t have extras just laying around.” Eddie walks to the door and points to the small room hoping it wouldn’t make you claustrophobic or anything. “Feel free to use the shower if you need to.”

“Thanks again Eddie.” You stop to place a kiss on his cheek for the second time tonight on your way out. He stands there frozen for a hot minute before rushing around his room and cleaning up some more making sure he gets all the junk, like his notebooks and his copy of Lord of The Rings that he’s rereading again, that he normally just leaves on the side of the bed is put away.

You glance at the shower wondering if you should but decide against it since you did last night and you didn’t even think to bring shampoo or conditioner or anything. You had barely remembered your toothbrush and toothpaste. So you just brush your teeth and get dressed before sitting on the edge of the tub with your head in your hands. Sure you’ve been kicked out before, it’s how you know your mom will come looking for you, but something about this fight feels like your relationship with your father will forever be changed. You sigh and stand up ready to just pass out and leave the day behind you. You walk back into Eddie’s room to find him organizing his desk like a mad man. The room is a lot cleaner than it was when you first walked in.

“Did you do all this cleaning just for little old me?”

“Can’t have a princess sleeping in a pigsty.” He straightens up and smiles at you while you drop your bag onto the floor and sit on the bed. “I’ll leave you to it, come get me if you need anything.”

“Why don’t we just share the bed? It’s big enough and I promise I don’t snore.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure it’s your bed anyway and I’m not gonna lie your couch doesn’t look too comfortable.”

“Okay fine, stop begging me to sleep with you, I’ll do it.” You laugh at his over exaggerating and he smiles in accomplishment at getting the dark cloud you came back into the room with to disappear. He turns off the lights before getting into the bed next to you making sure to leave you space instead of taking all of it up like he normally does. You take him by surprise though when you shimmy your way next to him.

“Sorry, I’m a cuddler. I can go back to where I was if you want.”

“No, you’re fine. I can be a cuddler.” With that he stretches his arm out so you can rest your head on his chest.

“Thank you for everything Angel Eyes.”

“Angel Eyes?”

“It’s your nickname, since your eyes are so pretty and you like Abba too.” Eddie never felt so grateful over the darkness as he is in this moment. He can feel how red his face is at your comment about his eyes and he’s nervous you can still tell and he’s glowing like a light bulb. He clears his throat before speaking.

“Pretty unoriginal to just steal the title of a song isn’t it. You should just come up with a new one.”

“Don’t worry Eddie Bear I still have a few different ones up my sleeve. Goodnight.” You place a kiss on his chest before nestling your head into it and closing your eyes.

“Goodnight Y/n.” Eddie beams up at the ceiling and wraps his arm a little bit tighter around you.

Eddie Taglist: @sadbitchfangirl @notbeforelong @munsonswhore86 @navs-bhat @emotionaldreamer @fromasgardandback @rockchickrebel @yourdailymemedelivery @magicalchocolatecheesecake @watercolorskyy @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @fangirling-4-ever @gaysludge @audhd-dragonaut @eddiethesexy @mazerunnerrose @tvserie-s-world @redgetawaycar @eddies-lover @alexis6699

Everything Taglist: @bejeweledmastermind @matchamunson @bubsonnobx @practicalghost

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson x wheeler!reader #eddie munson stranger things #Eddie munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things

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espinosaurusrexex · 6 months

Text

Happy Little Accidents

Veteran!BuckyBarnes x Female!ArtTeacher!Reader

summary: In a world after the war, Bucky tries to get pieces of his old self back by joining an art class. He meets you and instantly falls head over heels. Now he just has to work up the courage to ask you out.

a/n: wrote most of this on my lunch break after finally feeling the creativity spark again. I hope you all get a cozy fall feeling.

word count: 3.3k

warnings: adapting to life after war, frustration, a little angst, love-dazed Bucky, just so much fluff and wholesomeness 💕

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ

↑ the face of a man too whipped to listen - this is the Bucky vibe today

Steve Rogers was an artist. A lot of people knew about it. Hell, the Smithsonian even had a gallery full of sketches from a notebook of Steve’s he had lost back in ‘45. But Steve never needed people to recognize his work. Just like he never needed all the fame that came with his shield or all the honors he got for doing what he thought normal human decency implied - stopping bullies.

But what not many people knew was that Steve loved his art so much, he even held little sketch workshops in the camps on the western front. He drew each member of the howling commandos with impeccable accuracy. He loved drawing portraits and he loved to help.

Which was why, sooner or later, Bucky had been talked into trying his first sketches back in the day as well. Back when he was still left-handed, back when he found joy in little things such as drawing with his best friend. Back when he was not who he was now.

Yeah, he was bitter about it...

Bucky wasn’t too shabby of an artist per se. He was rather quick with his sketches always able to find the right spot for his next line and even though they weren’t perfect, one could always see what his pictures were meant to present.

Yes, they were crooked and not nearly as good as Steve’s but he had fun with it. Sketching had been an escape for his soul while bombs were exploding only miles away from his camp. It had reminded him of his best friend when they were apart, and most importantly, it taught him patience.

God, so much patience.

Bucky had never been good with it. Always fast, always right away. But the amount of times Steve made him erase carefully constructed lines and shapes had him feel scolded like a kid.

Later, he was grateful for it.

Now? He hated just touching a pencil. Every time he was reminded of his recovery, of months of frustration and anger, of grief and sadness. All because he’d lost his arm, and with it, all that had brought him joy in life.

When he had to learn to write with his right hand, he screamed at the papers before him, the crooked and shaky lines mocking him with vigor.

You’ll never be the same, they said, You’ll never have true joy back.

He felt like a child. Unable to do the most mundane of tasks, whilst fully aware of what had to be done to get it right.

But he missed it. The way drawing would clear his mind and the ease he felt when thinking of nothing but the next step in the process.

So after a particularly frustrating session with his therapist, Bucky had walked through a gallery on his way home. Beautiful pieces, each more impressive than the next hung on bright white walls until he reached a small corner with sketches and photographs. They weren’t less good than the rest, but other than the huge paintings, they seemed approachable - and they reminded him of times far gone.

“Hello, would you be interested in signing up for a sketching class?” An angelic voice had asked after holding a leaflet into his line of sight. And when he followed the hand up to your face, his breath hitched in his throat.

“I- I don’t think I’d be any good…” he had said with a pitiful smile as his left arm raised next to his head, the sleek silver of his hand shining in the showroom light.

“Oh don’t be silly. Everyone can be an artist.”

And that was all it took.

Now he was here. Sitting in a room with about eight other people, listening to you talk. Though Bucky didn’t pay much attention to your words. He was distracted by the way your lips curved when you spoke, and how your hands looked in the light when you flailed them in the air. He wanted to draw you, only you. But he knew he could never do you justice. And that frustrated him a little.

His first task was easy. A series of connected squiggles and shapes. The second was harder - finding and highlighting familiar motives in his work. But when he tried to connect his shapes, his hand began to tremble and the line on his paper got dented, he huffed in surrender.

A look to the front to you talking with another woman and he was getting off his chair.

This was useless. He should have never come here.

But when he moved to gather his things, your voice stopped him once again.

“Oh that’s interesting,” you said with a tilted head, your eyes following the little dent in his drawing.

“Yeah, I messed it up.” He shook his head and added a careful, much more quiet ‘I always do”.

“You see, it’s only a mistake if you make it one.” You turned to him and smiled and his heart began racing now that all your attention was on him. Bucky looked around to see if anyone noticed, but the other participants were all focused on their work. “I’m not going to tell you that this line isn’t supposed to be the way it is. You alone can decide that.”

You stepped closer as he eyed his paper again. “So, Bucky,” holy crap you remembered his name. And it sounded so good coming from your lips. “Are you gonna make it a mistake or not?”

❁ ❁ ❁

That was a month ago. And Bucky had come to your class every Sunday night since then. But now his crush had only intensified.

Every time you stepped behind him to watch him work, his hand began to sweat. Every time you gave him a suggestion, his eyes were so drawn to your lips, he barely heard what you were saying. Just yesterday this had caused him to get into a particularly awkward situation. He hadn’t listened, of course - those stupid mesmerizing lips of yours were at fault for it. And when Bucky finally came back from his daydream of imagining what they would feel like on his lips, he knocked over a jar of water as he noticed you had moved next to him. And to make matters even worse, you had caught him talking to himself as he cleaned up the mess.

Bucky was beyond embarrassed. He wasn’t normally that clumsy, all his moves were calculated. No limb out of control, but when you were around, he seemed to have lost that trait of his - which was actually kind of nice...

He was in deep. And he didn’t know how to handle it.

He was contemplating never going back to your class. He would probably end up ruining somebody’s work and - besides - it wasn’t like he could ever work up the courage to ask you out. It was just all too scary.

“Bucky, is that you?” Bucky froze as he studied the coffee menu above the barista. He was going to order black anyway. But the voice that called out his name almost made him want to pretend he was still studying the sign.

“Bucky.” Your voice came closer and when you were standing next to him, he finally looked at you. And there you were, with a bright smile and a scarf shielding you from the cool fall breeze outside.

“Oh, hey.” He paused, treading, not knowing what to do with his hands or pretty much any part of his body. At least, in your workshop, he had something to do. ��...hey.”

“It’s nice to see you, how’s your homework going?” You rubbed your hands together to warm them and at the sight of your delicate fingers, he felt his cheeks heating up when he imagined holding them.

“It’s... well, it’s going...” He sighed and watched his feet as they shuffled on the tiled floor. “It’s not going well if I’m being honest.” And with a shy smile, he rubbed the back of his neck, watching as you nodded in understanding.

“I know it sounds stupid, but sometimes it really helps to just get started without thinking about it too much.”

He chuckled. That was exactly his problem. Because every time he wanted to start, he wondered what you would think about it. And then his thoughts drifted to you entirely and how your neck would bend when you watched him draw over his shoulder, or how your fingers swayed over his artwork to point out the parts you were talking about. God, he loved when you did that.

“-only if you want, of course.” Your nose crinkled when Bucky’s mind brought him back to the coffee shop again. You were staring at him expectantly, your smile growing nervous with every second he took to register that you had just asked him a question.

Bucky had no idea what you had just said. He had been too lost in his daydream yet again and now he made you look stupid in the middle of this coffee shop. There wasn’t much time to decide what his response would be, but under no circumstance did he want to admit just how scattered he was around you. So without thinking, he just nodded with a tight-lipped smile and willed his knees to stay strong when your eyes brightened.

“Awesome! When are you free?” Free? Did you just ask him out and he hadn’t even paid attention?

“Uh, Sunday?” Bucky stammered as his heart began to pound in his chest. This has got to be a prank.

You laughed, and Bucky got weak in the knees. “Sunday is workshop, silly.”

Stupid, stupid, Bucky. “Right, uh... Friday then.” The rapid beat in his chest took his breath away.

“Okay, great. Here give me your phone so I can give you my number.”

“You’re–“ Bucky choked as his hands scrambled to fish his phone out of his pocket. “Yes, yeah sure, cool.” Cool? Oh god.

You took it from him, entered your contact with a little paintbrush emoji, called yourself, and handed it back to his sweaty hand.

“I’ll text you my address.” You stepped forward to pay and retrieve your coffee, gifting the barista a smile that made him blush - apparently, you were a regular because Bucky did not remember you ordering - but then again - he didn’t really pay attention apparently. “Oh, and bring your art supplies!”

And then you were out the door, letting crisp air into the cozy coffee shop, and Bucky standing dazed and confused as to what had just happened.

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky stared at his phone for the fifth time now, making sure he was in front of the right door before ringing the bell. He was nervous, to say the least. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was on a date, not to mention the last time he felt this nervous about being on one. He was a strong believer in facts but you asking him out had to be a sign from the universe. One he would only get once and he could not screw it up.

His hands smoothed over his black button-up one last time before adjusting his leather jacket again. Then he rang the bell and not even a minute later, you greeted him with a warm smile and urged him to give you his jacket to hang up.

“I just made tea, do you want some?” Bucky followed you to the kitchen where the faint but homey scent of pumpkin spice filled the air. He watches as you scrambled to find your oven its and then retrieve something delicious smelling from the oven. “Cookies?”

“I’m good with tea for now.” He chuckled in awe at how nice your home felt. Once he could tear his eyes away from you, he peered over the kitchen island into your living room, where many different artworks and photographs were displayed on the walls. Every pillow on your sofa had a different color and the blankets sprawled on it and the chair were too inviting for him not to picture the both of you cuddled up beneath them.

“Alright then, suit yourself. But just know these are my specialty.” You snatched one from the tray before almost dropping it again. “Ouch, hot.”

Bucky felt drawn to the room. With all its warm light and fall-scented candles, hints of read books and discarded crocheting, with a crackling fireplace and soft carpeting. He also felt awfully intimate at the glimpse he got into your life by being here, but he had already declared this place his favorite in his mind.

“Are you ready?” Bucky turned to you and watched as you padded your hands on your jeans, leaving faint flour prints on the dark denim.

“Ready for what?” He smiled again, he seemed to be unable to stop around you. But he was just so happy to be here, to be close to you, and to finally spend more time with you.

You chuckled and set two cups of tea on the table. “For your sketches. That’s the whole reason you came here for, remember?”

You settled on the ground and padded the sofa for Bucky. But he could just stand there and stare at you while trying to ignore the lump that began to build in his throat. He clenched the bag with his art supplies in his hand and watched as the soft material wrinkled in his grasp.

Of, course. He took a breath. How could he have been so naive? Then stepped towards the sofa. The whole thing had been a mistake. And finally sat down with a heavy smile.

The sadness was filling him so fast, it threatened to spill right out of him, but Bucky wouldn’t let this little big dent in the road be shown in front of you. Instead, he focused on your hands when they pulled his sketch pad from his bag. And your eager smile when you flipped through his failed attempts on the paper.

The whole atmosphere was wearing a thin layer of sorrow all of a sudden, and Bucky felt his heartache when you leaned over to him to point out the parts you liked the most. Your perfume seemed just that much sweeter as if it were mocking him all of a sudden.

He didn’t listen. He just watched you with the same longing he’s had ever since he met you. Back to square one. Back to the distance he had with you before he foolishly thought you had asked him out. Except now he’d lost all the confidence left in him to take the next step.

Bucky let the evening wash over him. Trying to concentrate on your tips and examples, tasting the tea you had offered to him with the sweetest smile. And before he knew it, he was standing in front of your apartment building again - with a box of those pumpkin cookies in hand and a heart that felt heavier than the bricks he was staring at.

He sighed and began his walk back home.

❁ ❁ ❁

On Sunday he decided that he wouldn’t give up. Bucky didn't know what changed his mind. He just knew that he couldn’t stop thinking about you and him on that incredibly comfortable sofa of yours and the scent of your cedar and cinnamon candle which seemed to linger on his skin for days after his visit. He wanted to play the sketching games he had half-heartedly endured last time and he wanted to become a better artist.

Bucky had left your cookie box at home as an excuse to meet up with you again. And even though he was sweating ferociously when he approached you after class, you had agreed to meet with him again.

He’d left the gallery with a bright smile that evening. Excited for the next time he’d see you again and eager with daydreams on the subway home.

You and Bucky met up every week. Every time, spending a little longer not just drawing and it filled his heart with warmth and happiness. You shared laughter, and, in Bucky’s eyes, a growing connection with every passing meeting.

He learned about your dreams and aspirations and told you about his past, his interests, and his most treasured fantasies.

As weeks turned into months, Bucky found himself drawn to you in more ways than the warmth radiating from your smile he’d noticed the first day he met you, or your talent of calmly helping him in every way possible. He admired your passion for art, your kindness, and your enchanting presence. The fear and the shyness that had gripped him at first, slowly faded away - replaced by a sense of comfort when he was with you.

And soon he realized that there was nothing he didn’t love about you. This was how he got the courage to, on one calm evening spent on your sofa, between the colorful pillows he had been thinking about falling asleep on for weeks, place his hand in yours and intertwine your fingers with his.

“I got something for you,” he whispered between dialogues of the Halloween movie playing on TV, watching as your eyes aimed up at him with curiosity.

With reluctance, he peeled himself out of the warm blanket you shared and trudged to the sketchbook hidden in his bag. The initial idea had been dipped in silly confidence. But it was too late to back out now. He’d already told you about it.

So despite his nervous heartbeat, Bucky came back to the sofa and handed you the book.

“Open it,” he nudged when you carefully inspected the black leather binding, unaware of the confession hidden beneath.

And when you did, he felt he could read every expression on your face like a poem.

The book was filled with sketches of you. The first pages were scattered in hasty pencil drawings, misplaced lines, and unintentional dents. Then followed the section in which he had tried to pay attention to detail. The curve of your nose or the arch of your fingers when they pointed at his artwork. He could see them now, hovering over the sketches himself, and when you turned to the last page of the section, he could see the striking resemblance between them. And so did you. On the next turn, you revealed the latest portraits he’d added to the book - finally confident enough to attempt doing what he saw you as justice, to finally look past his mistakes - or happy little accidents as you called them - and just try it.

Bucky had discovered that your weekly sketch sessions had done him good. And that you had secretly given him back what he had mourned after for so long.

“I couldn’t keep my eyes off you from the moment we met.” He whispered still, too afraid to break the moment you’d just created. “Thought it was time for me to tell you.”

Your eyes were glassy when you tore them from the pages in your hand, a shaky laugh escaping your lips when Bucky beamed down at you. “You did all of this for me-”

“Because of you,” he corrected and wiped a lonely tear from your cheek. “I never thought I could get the joy of drawing back until you showed me how.”

Bucky leaned in closer until your noses touched. “How to be less critical of myself.” He closed his eyes and let his hand linger on your skin. “And how to welcome a mistake by making it an accident-”

And before he could finish that sentence, he felt your lips press to his and your warm hands wrap around his neck to pull him into your body. Bucky shivered in excitement, letting his hands trail down your back and falling into the soft cushions of your sofa while he pressed you to his chest protectively.

He sighed into the kiss, feeling his heart burn with excitement.

Fascinating, how fast a mistake can turn into a happy little accident.

I love you Bob Ross <3

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haykawas · 6 months

Text

✩•̩̩͙*˚ TUESDAY – GETO SUGURU.

summary : you have five days to ask your hot tattooed boss out. better make it count.

word count : 3.6K. tags : tattoo shop owner!suguru, modern au, pining, workplace AU, fem!reader, very domestic, fluff (?), satoru being annoying.

MONDAY – TUESDAY

It was still very early in the morning. Just a few cars were driving by, and most of the curtains were still drawn. The only sounds you could hear came from the soft pitter-patter of the rain crashing against the pavement.

You wiped a droplet that had caught on your eyelash, inhaling the fresh air of October.

You loved fall.

Vivid colors were beginning to paint the trees and foliage everywhere, and people had already started decorating their houses for Halloween, setting the mood for the whole city. Another advantage was that almost every morning, you got to warm your cold hands around some hot cocoa.

You grinned as you took a sip of your drink, the warm beverage burning your throat, and you let out a pleased hum of satisfaction at the feeling. Your umbrella shielded you from the rain almost entirely, even though a few drops still managed to reach you. But you didn’t mind that, at all. In fact, it soothed you. So much, that you could feel your eyelids becoming heavy.

You shook your head to wake up from your daze. Today, you actually had some work waiting for you at the shop, and you couldn’t afford to fall behind it, or become distracted. At all. Be it by the soothing sounds of the rain, or by your stupidly handsome boss and coworker.

You pushed the door of the shop open, shaking your umbrella before putting it down to dry. You expected to find the parlor still dark and quiet, but you were surprised by the sight when your eyes caught onto Satoru.

Satoru. Here. Before you.

You had to be dreaming.

It wasn’t that Satoru was a heavy sleeper, no. In fact, he was actually often – always? – up very early, but he absolutely never arrived before you did. Despite being an early riser, he almost came to work late every morning for some reason, and you simply blamed the fact he’d always been peculiar as far as you’d known him. That or maybe he’d gotten involved into some shady operations, but again, it was none of your business.

It must’ve helped that he was the most talented tattoo artist you’d ever met – the best of his generation, you’d often heard people say. And Suguru’s best friend, too.

As you approached him, you couldn’t suppress the smirk that crept onto your lips, “Gojo Satoru, here already? Thought I was seeing a ghost. Did you get lost on your way to your secret underground lair?”

Satoru laughed, wiggling his brows at you, “You wish I’d tell you, uh?” You couldn’t help but snort.

“Yeah, right, just wanted to know what you were up to. You think because you’re friends with the boss you get to slack off, loser?”

Satoru feigned indignation, one hand hovering over his heart, “I’ll have you know I’m a very busy man!”

“And to what do I owe the please of your company then, Mister busy man?” You said, trying to keep yourself from laughing at his face.

“Does there always have to be a reason?” He lifted a brow, hands on his hips.

“So?”

“Suguru asked me.” He grumbled as your smile grew even bigger. “But I won’t be around all day, just came in earlier to get more work done.”

“Oh?” Your eyes found his, curious, “Any reason why?”

“He needs some help with personal stuff, I think? So I’m dropping by. And since he won’t be coming in to work today, I volunteered to take in his shift. Aren’t I just perfect?”

“He didn’t give you a choice, did he?”

“Nope!” Your friend exclaimed, and you watched him walk away to prepare the shop for opening.

However, your smile quickly faded and you found yourself lost in thought. Was there a particular reason why Suguru wouldn’t show up at work today? You observed your friend for a moment, a faint smile on your lips as you saw him struggling to set up all the work equipment for the day, wondering if you would even dare ask him about his best friend’s whereabouts.

Of course, such a question wouldn’t have been abnormal at all if you’d asked literally anyone else. But this was Satoru. The same Satoru that had always teased you relentlessly about your love life since you’d met in college. The very same Satoru who’d caught you, not so long ago, daydreaming while intently looking at his best friend. You remembered it like it was yesterday, the knowing smile he’d made when your eyes had met after you had averted your gaze from Suguru.

And since then, it’d been hell. He just wouldn’t let it go. While he hadn’t addressed the matter directly with you, he’d been dropping constant hints, which you’d vehemently denied.

But this had been your mistake, denying it. Because even if carefree, Satoru was far from stupid, and he must have realized that you’d never gone to such lengths to deny a supposed crush before.

And yet, he’d teased you more than once, and not only with your former college aquaintances, but also with Choso, your coworker – the same Choso you’d always considered like your own brother, the mere thought of the two of you together making you uneasy.

He must have felt your persistent glare on him, because Satoru stopped what he’d been doing and turned to you, hands on his hips.

“Spit it out, I know you’ve been dying to ask.” He said, breaking the silence.

Your eyes widened, and you felt your cheeks burn. Why did he have to be so observant? You sighed, breaking eye contact, unable to withstand his piercing blue gaze. He knew you far too well now, so much that it had become dangerous.

“You know, secrets have a way of gnawing at you and you’ve never been good at hiding things from me! So,” He dragged out, slowly approaching you, “what’s up?”

You rolled your eyes, “You’re making a big deal out of nothing, again. Just thinking about Suguru, he usually, like, never misses a day.” You immediately cursed at yourself for saying it that way, and admitting you were literally thinking about your boss, his best friend.

“Ohhh, so that’s what it was about?” He replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief, but he made absolutely no comment. Well, that was new. And concerning.

He shrugged, “He didn’t tell me much.”

“But if you’re that curious, I’m heading to his place right after my shift. Sooo,” He dragged out, feigning nonchalance, but side-eyeing you at the same time. “You could tag along.”

You blinked at the proposal. You? At Suguru’s house, uninvited? When you could be home relaxing instead of freaking out for intruding on his private space? Yeah, sure, like you would agree. However, before you could voice your refusal, Satoru beat you to it.

“He could use your help.”

Oh. Oh, that fucker knew how to play his cards just right.

“Fine, I’ll go.” And before Satoru could jump on you to choke you with one of his infamous bear hugs – they were more like headlocks, really –, you lifted a finger to add one condition, “But only if I don’t fall behind on my appointments!”

Satoru rolled his eyes, waving you off, “Sure, yeah, whatever you say!”

You now stood in front of Suguru’s apartment, cursing the day you’d decided to befriend the white-haired menace that was your friend.

You considered going back, but the door opened before you had the chance to say a single word, revealing a very disheveled Suguru. Your mouth fell open in surprise, eyes briefly meeting Suguru’s dark orbs before he redirected them towards his friend, who was already whining, making comments about him being some kind of sorcerer, because how could he possibly have known they’d be here?

“You stomp like crazy, man. I’d have to be deaf not to know.” He grumbled. Satoru stuck his tongue out at him, showing no signs of remorse, and Suguru flipped him off.

“Hey, manners! I brought a guest!” He exclaimed, his arms still around your shoulders as he squeezed you against him to make your presence known.

Suguru immediately redirected his attention toward you, his scowl transforming into a small knowing smile.

“I can see that.” His eyes lingered on you, before he redirected his attention to Satoru, “And to what do I owe the honor?”

His friend groaned in annoyance, “Quit the formalities and just let us in!” He said, immediately pushing Suguru aside to barge into his flat. “Don’t you know letting guests wait outside is rude?”

“You’re not a guest. Who called you in, already?”

“You did! Shoko told me you also wanted me to bring you stuff. And because I’m such an amazing friend, I’m here! There,” Satoru tossed him the folders he’d brought from work, Suguru catching them effortlessly.

He sighed, figuring out the issue. “I specifically asked Shoko to do it because I knew for a fact you were gonna come here and give me a headache.”

The white-haired man lifted his hands in surrender, “Promise I’ll be on my best behavior!” Before disappearing into his friend’s house.

You silently cursed at your friend for leaving you there alone with his best friend, especially so when you turned your head towards him only to find him already eyeing you up with a slightly amused smirk, enjoying your slight – and very noticeable – discomfort.

“You wanna come in?” He asked as he made space for you. You nodded and stepped into the apartment, brushing against Suguru who still lingered in the doorway.

You observed his place, eyes going over his wooden furniture, and found yourself pleasantly surprised by the warmth it seemed to exude. It was certainly very different from the modern and somewhat cold feel of Satoru’s apartment, which you’d visited several times before.

“You like it?”

“I do, it’s very…warm. And personal.”

He laughed deeply, “I do spend most of my time here, and Satoru’s there very often. It had to be.”

You hummed, smiling at him in understanding.

“So what made you skip work today, boss?” You lift a brow with a teasing smile, finally asking the million-dollar question.

“Ah, please don’t remind me. I keep thinking about the things I’m gonna have to take care of when I get back.” He sighed. “But I’ve been feeling sick since last night, figured I’d stay home like a recluse instead of contaminating you all.”

“Well, until you two showed up.”

“Hey! I had to, Satoru practically dragged me here!” You exclaimed, and he snorted at your apparent distress, not thinking for a second that you’d just lied to his face. Satoru had asked you once, and you’d said yes. He didn’t even have to convince you.

“I know how he can be, I’m not blaming you!” He chuckled fondly, envisioning perfectly how Satoru must have dragged you here against your will like he’d always done with him.

“But just so you know,” He continued, “you don’t have to go all this way for me because I’m your boss, hm? They’re gonna think I’m taking advantage of you outside your hours.” He teased with a grin, and you had to advert your eyes from the blinding sight that he was.

“It’s not like that, really. You’re a friend of Satoru’s, so you’re not just my boss.” You said without thinking, and Suguru hummed in approval. “Besides, I figured you’d need some help with stuff. And I’m not sure Satoru’s the one for the task. Where the hell did he go?”

“Help?” He cocked his head, as he thought about it, ignoring your question. He knew where his best friend was, either sleeping or rummaging through his games and making a mess in his bedroom, as usual. It must have looked innocent to some, but the dark-haired man knew his friend had been up to something, for the past few days. And he had to find out what it was.

“Well, now that you’re asking, I was just about to start on dinner before you two barged in. Care to help out?”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow across Suguru’s cozy kitchen, you found yourself standing beside him, listening to his voice as he gave you advice on how he liked to prep his ingredients.

“So, what’s on the menu tonight, Chef?” You joked, trying to break the tension that seemed to hang in the air. You two weren’t used to be alone without Satoru as an intermediary, and it couldn’t be more obvious.

Suguru cleared his throat, his voice deeper than usual, slightly hoarse from the sickness. “Hm, was thinking of making my famous stir-fry,” he replied, “can you gather the ingredients?”

“Yes, Chef!” You grinned, and he chuckled at your enthusiasm. He leaned against the counter, a soft smile on his lips as he watched you bustling about, gathering all the utensils you’d need to make dinner. You quickly turned to ask him where he kept the rice, and caught him following your every move, his eyes half-lidded. You heart skipped a beat, and you immediately turned back around, forgetting what you were about to ask him.

He was sick. You had to get it back together.

Shaking your head, you opened the cupboard to grab the salt, but sighed when your eyes found it, perched on the cabinet’s top shelf. You tiptoed, convinced you could retrieve it on your own, but the cabinet was strangely positioned in a rather elevated spot.

“Here.” Suguru’s sweet and deep voice suddenly reached your ears, his warm breath tickling the back of your neck. You could feel his solid body against yours as he stretched to grab what you’d been trying to, and you swore you could feel his abs pressing against your back even through his loose-fitting shirt. His fingers brushed against yours as he took hold of the item.

As soon as he put it down on the counter, you smoothly pushed him away and put distance between the two of you, accusatively pointing at the cupboard.

“What the hell is it so high for anyway? Do you live with giants?”

He laughed, “Well, in a way. Me and Satoru could be considered giants.”

“Right.” You shook your head, pushing yourself to get back to the task at hand to avoid thinking about what had just happened. Your hands began chopping the vegetables, the rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board filling the room.

The scent of garlic and ginger filled the kitchen, and you smiled as you inhaled the pleasant scent. You couldn’t help but sneak a glance at Suguru, and you wish you hadn’t. He seemed lost in thought, his dark hair was slightly tousled, and his cheeks were slightly flushed, a combination of his illness and the warmth of the kitchen.

The man sighed as his hair got in the way yet again. He hadn’t found the time to trim it recently, and it had gotten quite long.

He paused for a moment, rinsing his hands before his fingers deftly started to gather his long dark hair. With a practiced grace that was so common with him, he pulled his hair back, securing it in a loose and messy ponytail. He sighed in annoyance as some strands were too short to be kept in place, blowing air to get them out of his eyes. His eyes found yours as he seemed to notice your sudden silence, strands of silky hair framing his face, accentuating the sharp angles of his jaw and elegant curve of his neck.

He gave you a shy smile, surprised you’d caught him in what had strangely felt like such an intimate moment to witness, and averted his eyes to the rice that’d been fizzling in the frying pan. After hard work came comfort, and you both sat down to savor the delicious meal you’d prepared – well, Suguru had done most of it, you’d mainly chopped the vegetables and fetched the ingredients, really –.

Suguru watched you intently as he waited for you to taste his famous dish. His eyes crinkled in amusement and he couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh as you let out an involuntary moan of pleasure at the taste.

“This is fucking incredible, Suguru!” You managed to say between bites, cheeks full, “I can’t believe how good this tastes! Why the hell didn’t I know how good of a cook you were?” You exclaimed.

His lips curled into a proud smile at your praise, “Glad you like it. I wasn’t always that good, you know? I used to burn pasta.”

“Pasta?” You deadpaned, eyes wide. “How come you’re so good, then?”

He grinned, “Had to fend for myself since I was very young. Practice makes perfect, right?”

Oh. Your heart ached as you considered the implications of his words. At the end of the day, you didn’t know that much about him, and the fact he might have had a difficult childhood would have never crossed your mind if he hadn’t made allusions to it. You nodded, not really knowing what to respond, but not really keen on delving deeper into the issue.

You weren’t close, there was no need for him to tell you about his past struggles when you were only sharing a meal.

You proceeded to talk about your respective days, you telling him about the peculiar clients that had come in today, and him intently listening to you for the most part. He’d also told you about the documents Satoru had brought him, which you’d been curious about, and happened to be sketches he’d started and wanted to touch up before tomorrow morning.

You smiled as you watched him talk, nodding slightly whenever he would speak about something that demanded an immediate reaction. You couldn't believe how comfortable you'd gotten with him. Sure, there were still moments where you felt embarrassed, after all, he was a new acquaintance you still hadn't gotten used to. However, he had this talent that was so unbelievably his, the skill to put anyone at ease with just a few words.

He might have looked intimidating to a lot of people, with his fully tattooed arms, many piercings and dark eyes, but this image of him completely crumbled the moment he opened his mouth. He was a smooth talker, luring people in and charming them effortlessly.

And you couldn’t deny it. The fact Suguru wasn’t only a skilled chef, but also a vision of breathtaking allure. And you wondered how someone like this could ever reciprocate the feelings you harbored deep inside.

After the meal, you moved to the living room, settling onto the sofa. The warmth from the kitchen and the contented feeling brought by the dinner you two had just had enveloped you as you continued your conversation.

As he talked, you couldn’t help but notice a few strands of Suguru’s long hair escaping from his ponytail, falling gracefully across his forehead.

You spoke up, feeling brave, “You know,” he immediately gave you his undivided attention, and you felt slightly shy under his gaze, “If you’re finding your hair bothersome, I could help you with it. Maybe trim it a bit?”

“Oh.” He said, voice tinged with surprise at your question, and at the fact you’d noticed his annoyance. “You’d do that?”

“Yeah, it’s no big deal.” You approached him on your knees so you could get a good look at him, skimming your fingers through the strands of dark hair framing his face, as you thought about how you could arrange it, “I’m used to your type of hair, shouldn’t be too difficult.”

The man cleared his throat, turning his head to the side to avoid your gaze, “Alright, well, I’ll consider it and let you know then. Thanks.”

You nodded, but then your brows furrowed and you bolted from your seat, “Be right back!”

He saw you leave for the bathroom, lips parted in confusion. When you reappeared with a wet towel and a sheepish smile, he couldn’t stop but let out a snort as he understood what you’d been up to.

“Hey, don’t laugh! I know I’m a guest but you’re still sick.” You rolled your eyes in feigned annoyance, but the amused smile on your lips was betraying you. “Your cheeks are so red, I can’t believe I just noticed.” Then, you proceeded to delicately cover his forehead with the cold towel, making sure you weren’t covering his eyes. You observed his features up close, and you noticed that he was struggling to stay awake, his long lashes fluttering with exhaustion.

“You should lie down a bit.”

Suguru was about to protest, but a yawn escaped him, resigning him to accept his fate and lie down for a while. “Just a minute, alright? Then I’ll walk you back home.” You nodded, knowing you had to go home very soon, the fact you'd stayed more than a few minutes at your boss's house already shocking to you.

bonus –

Your eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, you were disoriented. The soft glow of the morning sun was beginning to filter through the curtains, but you weren’t on your bed. And as your senses slowly returned, you realized you were not alone.

Panic welled up inside of you as everything came rushing back to you when you took in the sight of Suguru sleeping beside you, his messy hair out of the ponytail he’d put them in a few hours ago, the string lost somewhere on the ground, while his limbs were sprawled out on the couch. His soft snore was making his chest rise and fall, his shirt rising up to his middle.

You didn’t have time for that.

You bit your lip, searching for your phone in a hurry, making sure you weren’t making any noise in fear the man would somehow wake up, silently freaking out as the situation dawned on you.

you where the fuck r u ???

satoru i’m home?? where r u

you .

satoru oh fuck DONT TELL ME oh my god

you …

you why didnt you wake me up when you went home . wth satoru

satoru oh man that’s rich im telling shoko right now

you do it and i’ll kill you

satoru too late

satoru by the way i actually didn’t wake you up cuz sugu’s an insomniac never does whole nights so thx!<3

AN : I SAID LET THEM COOKKKKK ok back to the topic. god. this was twice as long as the first piece of this series (and i actually kinda struggled with this one? i'll have you know i'm a master at writing angst but fluff isn't really my forte - if you can call this fluff). kinda sweet suguru here cuz he's sick and all (and i couldnt already rush things), but expect him back on his feet and SMUG as hell in the next pieces ;) sooo yeah, hope yall liked it! also, not proofread yet, i'll come around to fix mistakes but it's 1:40 am here and i have class tomorrow so goodnight

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dreamwritesimagines · 7 months

Text

Garden of Secrets [39] - Lotus Flower

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Summary: Everything has its time.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of sex, mentions of threats, mentions of pregnancy.

Word Count: 2400

Series Masterlist

After waking up around dawn and coming down to the greenhouse to work in it, you were sure of one thing;

This was the most beautiful place you’d ever been.

You hummed a song to yourself as you carefully took the jade vine out of its pot and put it into the new, bigger pot, paying attention to the roots. You pressed on the soil inside the pot, making sure it surrounded the roots but before you could do anything else, you felt a pair of arms sneaking around your waist and pull you back to a hard chest, making you gasp.

“Benedict!” you said, a giggle escaping from your lips as you gently elbowed him, then took off your gardening gloves. “You scared me!”

“Morning darling,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to the crook of your neck, sending a hot spark down your spine. You heaved a pleasant sigh, then turned around in his arms and stood on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“Good morning,” you said. “You’re up early.”

He tilted his head. “Am I?”

“Yeah, it’s only…” you trailed off. “What-what time is it?”

“Eleven.”

“What?!” you exclaimed. “It’s not eleven, surely!”

“It is, I’m actually going outside to meet—” he paused for a moment. “To meet Anthony. You know, perhaps we should put a clock here somewhere.”

“I lost the track of time,” you said, shaking your head and he smiled.

“What time did you get here?”

“Around six o’clock.”

His eyes widened. “We’re definitely putting a clock here,” he said, coaxing a laugh out of you.

“I was planning on coming back before you woke up,” you said, scrunching up your nose. “Sorry.”

“Well, even if I’d rather wake up with you by my side, obviously…” he muttered, stealing a kiss from your lips. “I’m glad you like it here.”

“Understatement of the century. I’m planning on spending the rest of my life here, I’ll have you know.”

“Am I invited as well?”

You hummed, pretending to be considering it with an exaggerated serious look on your face.

“Maybe.”

He chuckled. “Maybe?”

“You might have to convince me,” you said with your nose in the air and he grinned, dipping his head to brush his lips against yours.

“I’ll do my best,” he murmured as he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. You stood on your tiptoes again to steal a kiss from him.

“When you come back then?”

He let out a sigh and dropped his head to your shoulder as if it was going to take him a tremendous amount of willpower to wait for when he came back, making you giggle and reach to run your fingernails over the nape of his neck.

“When I come back,” he repeated and pulled back.

“Go,” you said with a smile, pushing at him gently. “I’m still not done here and you’re distracting me.”

“I’ll tell the maids to bring your breakfast here,” he said and pressed a kiss on your forehead before walking to the door. “Make sure to eat!”

“Give Anthony my regards!” you called back, turning around to put your gloves back on and heard him close the door behind him. You dragged the tip of your tongue over your lip before you bit down a smile, then grabbed the pot again.

Going to Josie hadn’t been in the plans when you first woke up but during your very late breakfast, Josie had sent you a small note, telling you Teddy was there and that you should join them for tea. Since it had been a couple of days since you had last seen Teddy or her, you figured you could take a break from the greenhouse, after all as Benedict said; the greenhouse wasn’t going anywhere.

When you got off the carriage and walked through the gate, you heard a very familiar and cheerful voice calling out your name, making you turn your head. Teddy wheezed through the garden and flung himself at you and you caught him mid-air, a skill you had developed in time.

“Well hello there!” you said, hugging him back. “I take it you missed me?”

“I missed you so much!” he whined, “Where have you been?!”

“I was a bit busy,” you said as you pulled back to look at him better. “And you? Have you made any sculptures for me lately?”

He gave you a bright smile. “So many!”

“When can I see them?” you asked while Bess made her way to you to offer you a tentative smile.

“Y/N.”

“Hello Bess,” you smiled at her. “Where’s Josie?”

“She um…she’s inside,” she said after a pause and you frowned slightly at the expression on her face.

“Is everything alright?”

“Josie has a guest,” Teddy said helpfully. “A lady!”

Your frown deepened. “What lady?”

Bess leaned in slightly to mutter into your ear. “Your mother.”

You could feel your smile being wiped off of your face as your head shot up, your heart dropping to your stomach. Bess cleared her throat.

“I took Teddy outside just in…just in case.”

“Thank you,” you murmured and turned to Teddy. “I’ll be back alright? Wait here.”

Teddy opened his mouth like he wanted to protest but you walked away from him in a haste, almost rushing to the house. You passed through the foyer and climbed the stairs, following the voices until you reached the drawing room.

“You have no right—” Josie stopped talking as soon as she saw you and took a deep breath. “Y/N.”

“What are you doing here?” you growled, looking at your mother and she had the audacity to look surprised.

“Can I not say hello without you two attacking me?”

“Mother dearest is here to blackmail me,” Josie said, crossing her arms and you clenched your teeth.

“Great.”

“I’m not blackmailing you Josie,” your mother said. “I’m merely telling you what might happen—”

“If I don’t give you the money,” Josie finished her sentence for her. “That’s exactly what blackmail is.”

“Do not blame me!” she snapped. “I do not like this either, but you made it necessary Josie.”

“I made it necessary?” Josie repeated with a bitter laugh and you shook your head.

“Just leave, mother.”

“You two are having such luxurious lives with not a care in the world while your father and I are suffering,” she insisted. “You need to pull your weight—”

“For what?” you asked. “We don’t even live with you anymore.”

“You did, and you were very comfortable eating at our table.”

“I’ve never been comfortable there,” Josie growled. “You two made sure of that.”

She shot her a glare.

“Well, unless you want that letter to come out—”

“You’re actually threatening your daughter,” you cut her off. “What kind of a mother does that?”

“One with ungrateful children.”

Josie opened her mouth, but was cut off when the familiar footsteps approached before you heard Bess.

“Teddy honey, wait!”

“Y/N, when can we go look at my statues?” he asked as he appeared at the doorstep, and both you and Josie reacted at the same time. You straightened your back, your body completely on alert just like Josie as your mother smiled at him.

“Hello Teddy,” she said. “I’m—”

“No!” you cut her off, anger pulsing through you. “No, you don’t get to do that. Teddy, go to your room with Bess.”

“But—”

“Now!” you snapped without taking your gaze off your mother and Teddy pouted, then ran away with Bess following him. You could feel the guilt crashing upon you but you tried to focus as your mother scoffed.

“Are you planning on keeping him from his parents forever?”

“Yeah.”

“Not much of a loss there,” Josie stated and your mother shook her head.

“He’s my son.”

“Your son that I grabbed from you that one time because of how hard you were shaking him,” you said through your teeth. “Because he was crying too much and you were annoyed. Do you remember that?”

She shifted her weight.

“I don’t expect you to understand Y/N,” she said almost in a hiss like a snake. “You have no children, you’re not even pregnant even if it’s been months since your wedding. Perhaps you have issues with that, hm? It would serve you right, and God knows people will start talking soon.”

“Get out of my house,” Josie ordered as you pulled back, swallowing thickly. “I’m serious, mother. I’ll tell the butler to drag you out and I’ll enjoy watching that, you have five seconds.”

You threw your shoulders back, trying to pull yourself together.

“Teddy is my son,” your mother said, her eyes on you. “I can get him back any time I want.”

You gritted your teeth, your eyes narrowing into a cold glare.

“Over my dead body,” you growled and your mother shook her head.

“Remember the letter, Josie,” she spat and walked out of the drawing room. You could hear her going downstairs and you fell back on the sofa, cradling your head with your hands.

“Are you alright?”

You took a shaky breath before looking up at Josie.

“I could ask you the same question,” you muttered as she sat beside you. She let out a bitter laugh.

“Just when I thought she couldn’t be more terrible…”

“Full of surprises, that one,” you said. “The only thing certain about her is the fact that she will continuously disappoint us.”

Josie hummed and turned to look at you better.

“You know she was just looking for the ways to make you feel bad, right?” she asked. “With the…you know.”

A sinking feeling appeared at the pit of your stomach and you scoffed.

“Uh huh.”

“Y/N.”

“What?”

“You said you and Benedict consummated what? Two weeks ago?” she asked. “It’s way too early to think about that. Did you two even talk about it?”

“Babies?” you let out a nervous laugh. “Absolutely not. But…you know. Benedict had a great family, my guess is that he wants them some day.”

“And you?” she asked. “I mean the last time we talked about this you said no but circumstances obviously changed, what with you being in love. Do you want babies?”

You bit inside your cheek, the image of you and Benedict having a baby was almost a surreal, happy dream but you shook your head before you could get lost in it, clearing your throat.

“I just don’t want to be like mother,” you rasped out, making her frown.

“Y/N…”

“What?” you asked. “Think about the example we both had growing up. What if—”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“You don’t know that—”

“I do know that because you’re not her, and Benedict is nothing like father,” she said. “Besides, I saw you with Teddy. There is no way you’d be anything like mother.”

You nibbled on your lip, then let out a groan.

“I snapped at Teddy,” you said and pushed yourself off the sofa. “I need to go apologize, I’ll be back alright?”

Josie smiled slightly and you walked to the door but stopped when you heard her say your name and turned your head.

“What?” you asked and Josie’s smile widened.

“Do you need any more proof that you’re nothing like mother?” she asked. “Remind me again, when was the last time mother apologized to either one of us?”

A small smile curled your lips and you rolled your eyes at her.

“You’re getting emotional Jo,” you said. “Must be the age.”

She threw you the nearest pillow that you expertly dodged and you let out a laugh, then made your way down the hallway.

By the time you got back home, you were absolutely exhausted. Teddy had forgiven you quite easily, you doubted he was even capable of holding grudges but you, Bess and Josie still had spent the entire day playing games with him that required a lot of running around the house. You went straight to Benedict’s bedroom—though it had become your bedroom as well lately- and flung yourself on the bed, but no matter how tired you were, you still couldn’t fall asleep even for a nap.

When Benedict walked inside, you were still curled up in the bed and he paused for a moment at the door.

“My love?”

“Mm?”

“Are you alright?”

You heaved a sigh and rolled onto your back, a frown pinching your brows together.

“Mm hm.”

Benedict bit back a smile and walked to sit beside you on the bed, an amused light playing in his eyes.

“You sound completely alright,” he teased you. “But you know, just in case…How was your day?”

You nibbled on your bottom lip and pulled yourself up to sit on the bed.

“I have a question for you.”

“Ask away.”

“Do you want to have babies?” you asked, making his eyes widen and he cleared his throat.

“Come again?”

“When you think about your future, are there babies there?” you asked. “With me, that is.”

“Yeah I figured as much,” he said with a small chuckle. “What brought this on?”

“Curiosity.”

“Try again,” he said and you pursed your lips.

“I saw my mother today,” you said as he pulled back slightly, frowning. “At Josie’s house. There was an argument and she brought up the fact that…” you trailed off and he tilted his head.

“What?”

“Nothing just—answer the question please?” you said and he thought for a moment, then took a deep breath.

“Eventually, yes.”

You let out a relieved sigh and nodded your head. “Alright. Good.”

“Do you?”

“Eventually,” you said and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I mean if it happens it happens, but until then—”

“What if the ton starts talking about us?” you felt the need to ask and Benedict let out a small laugh.

“Ah well that changes things because I lose sleep every night worrying about what the ton might say about us,” he said with a grin. “Y/N, come on. You know me better than that.”

You smiled slightly. “Just making sure.”

“Besides, we haven’t even gone on our honeymoon,” he joked, making you giggle. “We can’t possibly have a baby before going on our honeymoon, that would be a scandal.”

You tried to adapt a serious expression.

“Absolutely,” you said. “And as you said, we both care so much about the ton.”

“We do,” he said and leaned in to brush his lips against yours, making you heave a sigh.

“I’m glad we agree on this,” you murmured, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Really.”

He smiled and stole another kiss from you.

“I just want you,” he said. “Alright? Everything else can wait, no matter what it is.”

You felt a familiar warmth within your chest before you leaned in to kiss him, happiness making you feel almost giddy.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “I like that idea. Everything else can wait.”

Chapter 40

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic

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megxplryxb · 3 months

Text

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader Minors DNI 18+ Warnings: Flirting, Mentions of smut but no actual smut

Summary: Your best friend Robin wants you to come work at Scoops Ahoy with her but when she realises you’re totally hot for her cute coworker, she quickly changes her mind about the whole thing.

“So, have you thought any more about applying for the position here?” Robin asks excitedly, handing you your plain vanilla ice cream with sprinkles as you sit on the counter to keep her company during the final hour before closing.

She’d been trying to get you to quit your job at the arcade ever since Scoops Ahoy put an advert in the local paper looking for another member to add to the team.

“As fun as I’m sure it would be to work with my best friend, I don’t think I can.” You frown as her brows knit together.

“What, why not? We’d have such a blast!” She says, trying her best to convince you.

“I know we would Rob, but I just don’t think it’d be the best idea.” You shrug, licking your ice cream, moving your eyes from your friend to her extremely cute coworker who was sitting at a table, conversing with a group of kids.

She scanned your face for a moment wondering what it was that would stop you from wanting to work with her but then she noticed you biting the corner of your lip and the small blush that was slowly creeping onto your cheeks.

“Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me. Dingus? You like DINGUS?” She shouts loudly as you shush her, placing a hand over her mouth as Steve and the kids look up to see what all the commotion was about.

“Jeez Robs, say it louder why don’t you?” You giggle as she shakes her head.

“I’m sorry, I just… it’s Steve you know? I mean, does the sailor outfit really do it for you?” She winces, not really wanting to know your answer but you reply anyway.

“It’s not necessarily the uniform per se, it’s what’s underneath the uniform that I’m interested in. But now that you mention it, his ass does look pretty good in those shorts.” You smirk, taking another lick of vanilla.

“Please stop.” She gags as you let your head fall back, laughing again.

“What are you two ladies talking about?” Steve questions, brows raised suspiciously as he walks toward the counter again, taking extra note of the bold grin spread across your face.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing!” Robin quickly answers, shooting you a warning glare.

Steve tries to ask you what was going on, seeing the way his friend was looking at you but his thoughts get lost as he watches your tongue swirl around the melting ice cream. He swallows hard, eyes dropping to your low cut T-shirt when he sees a drop of ice cream running down your cleavage.

“Um, you got a little...” He points, his Adams apple bobbing as your finger catches the droplet before it disappeared between your pushed up breasts.

“Oh, thanks Steve.” You smile sweetly before placing the tip of your finger between your lips to suck it clean, hypnotising the boy standing in front of you. Instantly, he’d removed his Scoops Ahoy hat, placing it over the front of his shorts, hoping neither of you noticed the slight predicament he was about to be in.

“Uh, ye-yeah, sure, no problem.” He breathes, walking into the back room as Robin rolls her eyes at you both.

“Fifty bucks says he’s gone to jerk off in the bathroom after that little display.” Robin scrunches her nose as you turn to look at her.

“Maybe I should go help him out?” You suggest, waiting for her reaction.

“Please tell me you’re kidding?” She says, placing her head on the counter.”

“Of course I am.” You chuckle, rolling your eyes as you finish off your ice cream. “Honestly though, I’d never get anything done working with him. He’s so fucking hot.” You gush as Robin covers her ears.

“I’m not listening! Lalalalalala.”

“You’re such a child!” You giggle, playfully nudging her.

“Oh I’m sorry that I don’t want to listen to my best friend talk about fucking Steve Harrington’s brains out!” Robin exclaims, shaking her head again.

“So what? You talk about wanting to mess around with Tammy Thompson all the time!” You argued quietly knowing Robin hadn’t told anyone but you that she was into girls.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to work with Tammy!” She fought back but before you could respond, Steve was back behind the counter again.

“Hey Rob, don’t you have to return that sweater to the Gap store for your Mom?” You asked, smiling deviously at her.

“Oh yeah, I do. I’ll do it when we’re leaving.” She replied, glaring at you.

“But it’s Friday Rob, they close thirty minutes earlier than us.” Steve chimed in.

“Shit, yeah I totally forgot that. You wanna come with me?” Robin asked, eyes widening as you shook your head.

“No it’s ok, I’ll just keep Steve company.” You grinned, licking your lips at the boy as she gritted her teeth at you.

“I think he’ll be ok by himself for a couple of minutes, right ding—“

“So, you thinking of applying for the job here?” Steve asks, rubbing the back of his neck as Robin sighs heavily, grabbing the sweater and walking away unbeknownst to either of you, muttering at you both to use protection as she left the store.

“Oh, I don’t think so. I mean, I know Robin really wants me to but I’m just not so sure.” You reply as he moves from behind the counter to walk closer towards you.

“That’s too bad, I think you would have been a great fit here.” He smiles as you tilt your head.

“Oh really? Why’s that?” You ask as he licks his lips before speaking.

“Well, I mean you’ve already got an advantage being friends with the two best ice cream slingers in Indiana for one, so training will be a total breeze. Plus, you’ve already got a shit load of experience with hyperactive children working at the arcade and well, something tells me you’d look pretty cute in the uniform too.” Steve flirts as you playfully nudge him.

“I don’t think I’d pull it off as good as you do, Steve.” You reply as he lets out a small laugh.

“Yeah, my ass does look pretty good in these shorts, right?” He challenges as your eyes widen, trying to hold back a smile.

“You totally heard.”

“I totally did.” He grins, moving closer again as you shrug your shoulders. “Well, I stand by my observation, you do have a great ass.”

“Thanks, honey.” He says, gazing at you with a look that sends a lightening bolt straight to your core. “So, there’s no way I could convince you to join the team, huh?”

“What’d you have in mind, Harrington?” You ask as he steps in between your legs, closing the space between you.

“Well sweetheart, I’m a pro at oral persuasion. I’m pretty sure I could get you to come aboard.” He whispers, hovering over your lips and you desperately want him to kiss you.

“Are you freaking kidding me? I leave you alone for ten minutes and you’re practically screwing on the counter!” Robin yells as you quickly pull away from each other.

“Jesus Robin, we were not screwing!” Steve defends as she shoots you both a look of distain.

“You would have been if I hadn’t walked in on you. Shame on you, this is a family friendly business!” She teases as you roll your eyes. “Relax Buckley, the place is empty.”

“Well I’m not losing my job because dingus can’t keep his dick in his pants around pretty girls! In fact, we’re leaving right now because you two can’t be trusted with each other!”

“Hey, wait a minute, we haven’t even cleaned up yet Robin!” Steve argues as his colleague brushes past him and into the back room to grab her stuff.

“You should have thought about that before you tried to get into my friend’s pants. Later dingus!” She waves, grabbing your hand as you wink at Steve, blowing him a teasing kiss.

“Shit.” He sighs, putting a hand through his hair as he walked behind the counter again. It was only then that he noticed the small sticky note with your name and number on it, a little love heart drawn after the message: Call me x

Steve smiled at the note, placing it in his pocket for safe keeping as he made his way into the back room. He walked over to Robin’s data board, finally drawing a line under the You Rule section before heading back out to quickly clean and close up, because he couldn’t wait to call you when he got home.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #steve stranger things #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #king steve #steve the hair harrington #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #joe keery #gator tillman

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colourstreakgryffin · 2 months

Note

Hii! Can we get a fic with how would it like to be if the reader was basically douma same personality appearence etc. With Alastor? I REALLY WANT TO SEE HOW IT WOULD GO.

Oh my fucking god. This Duo— it’s this duo and Discord with Alastor, I think would mesh well! Haha! Anyway! I am definitely trying this out, thank you, loves! Hope you enjoy!

Alastor- Rainbow Irises

Ah… a cannibalistic murderous cult has rolled into the Pride Ring. Alastor isn’t surprised when he hears over the new Overlord being the Eternal Paradise Cult leader. He’s heard worse

Though… her eyes are a mesmerising rainbow. A gorgeous, colourful, almost hypnotic swirl of multiple colours and the way she has presented herself to the Pride Ring… menacing yet elegant and cool-headed. Dressed like a fancy old-fashioned Japanese woman and wielding golden sharp fans

You’re an entire walking-talking red flag of a person. Speaking smooth and doting to everybody you meet but raising your fangs to their neck. You’re possibly even worse than Valentino. You trick everybody into thinking you’re polite and considerate and playful but you have a VERY ugly monster under those rainbow eyes

You have that charisma and friendliness Alastor uses regularly, coming off as upbeat and you greets all the Overlords politely but the proclaims you make… the way you eat other sinner demons with no problem and even brag about putting heads of decapitated men in pots. You have everybody in the room’s spines shivering in both disgust and intimidation at how you’re like

Alastor respects the way you establish yourself and getting his full respect is hard. You are intimidating, you are menacing, it’s a sign of how strong you actually are. The second strongest Overlord in Hell’s history(right behind Alastor). You regularly loom over Alastor and enjoy sweet-talking him

Alastor can recognise when a psychopath is talking so he never falls for your tricks nor your innocent act. You’re dangerous and twisted, specifically targeting and only eating men, hence you’re only-men member cult. He won’t let you even try take a finger off him

Alastor is basically our Shinobu, except Al doesn’t beat on us

Alastor doesn’t like you just touching him. You’ll reach out and touch him, solely to annoy him. He isn’t scared of you but he can tell why the other Overlords are so tense around you… you’re the most perfect cult leader, a inviting aura and a sensual voice that screams illusionary safety

Alastor has to hold his breath around you. When you’re angry, you turn ice cold and you don’t mind making the air too frozen for anybody to breathe in. So, he is quite careful with you. Juggling inbetween cold treatment and warm treatment, he feels like he is handling a spoiled brat when he talks to you

Alastor ignores the ‘gifts’ you make or get him. The lotus ice statues are wonderful but he knows what you’re trying to do… he may compliment your work but he won’t let you talk him into anything

But that doesn’t mean, Alastor doesn’t find your work nor your power impressive. He is very impressed and he rewards you for all you’ve done with your little cult and rising up to the rank to being the second strongest Overlord ever known in Hell. It’s a grand feat that he will clap to

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Aren’t you even a little bit worried about me, Lord Alastor~?”

“Darling. Kindly do not touch—“

“You don’t know how dreadfully worried I was. Since you all are cherished comrades of mine. I’d be heartbroken if I lost any of my comrades~”

Alastor finds your Japanese voice and language irresistible in a way, since it reflects your English and ‘nature’ very well but once again… he won’t fall for how often you say you like him. He knows people like you, he’s one of them. He’ll just commend what you’ve done as a Pride Ring Overlord

Alastor HATES the ‘Lord Alastor’ nickname you give him and always address him under… yeah. You give it to every other Overlord, he isn’t the only one who is called ‘Lord’ but it feels so condescending and in reality, it is…

“Silence, my dear. The adults are speaking… now, calm down that temper of yours. We don’t need anymore aircon in this room”

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consuming-karma · 11 months

Text

THE LOST BOYS HAND HCS.

buwan’s notes: I’d like to thank @britany1997 for fueling my wild obsession with the lost boys and their hands, and also for agreeing with me that Paul’s the KING of fingering. Thanks. 🤭

episode summary: talking about the lost boys and their sexy hands. yes I’m crazy.

content warnings: hand kinks, some hcs are for fem/masc audiences (will specify so). , spit kink, different other kinks that will take forever to mention, NSFW, me honestly talking about how my favourite necklaces is Dwayne’s hands, yeah..

PAUL

starting off strong with Paul, Brit this one is for you mainly (and me, but I’m on the side).

I think paul has very veiny and bruised hands. I think that the blonde has the type to manage to get bruises or cuts unintentionally and never notice it!

his fingernails aren’t long, and his fingers are somewhat long and he has HUGE palms.

like marko, he has the tendency to chew on his nails, maybe even bite the skin around it.

Paul’s hands is also littered with rings, I can’t begin to explain to you how many rings he has in his own little corner of the cave, even the other guys come to borrow from him time to time!

If I didn’t know any better I would’ve definitely done the “your hands are way bigger than mine 🥺” technique at him, it’s funnier knowing that Paul’s probably the type to fall for it.

Paul also has a tendency to need to grab, he will hold onto anything. His preference is your chest though, he loves how they cup perfectly into his.

he’s very touchy-feely, he doesn’t seem to understand how good it feels to just have you in his hands or arms, whether that’s just you hooking your pinky around his or letting Paul place his hand on your inner thigh, he just loves it.

If I could say anything, I’d say Paul gets off more on touching you rather than you touching him.

maybe even gets higher than he does smoking weed.

He’s like one of those cats who paw at you whenever they’re comfortable. He grabs at thighs, at upper arms, at the tummy. He loves all of you and want all of you to fit in his hands.

Paul’s hands are somewhat rough, I see Paul to be the type to suck at hand care and only really uses hand sanitizer and maybe lotion. (For you know what ;) ).

Brit and I are firm believers that he is the KING of fingering/oral.

Paul thrives, survives on pleasing his mate/partner.

His hands can grip and squeeze and please.

I like to think that Paul loves the way your thighs pool from out his palms, and how it doesn’t fit in both of his hands.

For my feminine readers out there, Paul would love to graze the tips of his fingers on your stretch marks and whisper sweet little dirty nothings into your ears as his free hand just rubs you on your hip dips. :)

Masc readers, never forgetting about y’all, his thick hands definitely wrap perfectly around your cock, and he definitely looks up at you prettily with those baby blues. His painted nails and rings make beautiful accessories for your dick <3.

Paul unintentionally fingers you to the point of overstimulation though, he’s got the attention span of a puppy and will not notice, no matter how many times you cum onto his hands.

his hands look amazing covered in cum and saliva ;)

spit on his hands and tell him to fuck his fist, his only lube being your saliva..

“Paul!” You whined, grabbing at his hands as they gripped firmly at your thighs. His face sported a grin as your squirmed in his hold, a worried look on your face.

It’s been hours since his fingers worked their magic inside of your hole, he worked your walls until they couldn’t anymore and it seemed like Paul would never stop.

A surprised moan left your lips as Paul grazed over a sensitive spot, Paul seemed to feel like the devil in disguise as he no longer grazed your sweet spot, more so, started abusing it.

You couldn’t stop your thighs from shaking and kicking as the overstimulation Paul gave you shook you to your core. You can see the black and white spots appear in your vision as you feel yourself get closer and closer to another high.

It felt like forever before Paul finally plunged his fingers deep into your hole one last time, letting you ride his digits until you came down from his high, twitching from the overstimulation.

After a short while, Paul gently pulled his fingers away, a string of cum connecting his digits to your hole before Paul brought it up to his lips and gently sucked.

His free hand held your hips in place, as you hazily looked up at him with confusion and a red face.

“Has anybody told you how divine you taste, babe?”

(visuals) :

MARKO

Marko’s hands are less veined than the rest of the boys, turning when he was around eighteen had him keep the smooth skin of a baby.

The curly-head’s hands are definitely more daintier than the rest of the boys, most of them have rough maybe thick hands, but Marko’s are thin and has little veins.

Although Marko covers it up with his fingerless gloves, I’d like to think that his hands are very smooth to the touch, his handcare is 10/10.

like Paul, his nails aren’t super long, I’d say he likes to keep them a nice length, but bites them off on the way.

His thumb has a mark where he keeps biting it with his teeth, unlike the other boys who might have bruises or cuts, he has a noticeable bump on his thumb and a small mark on his nail.

type of guy to be short but his hands are still bigger than yours. He always talks about his hands fits yours so well and how he loves seeing the size difference of both your palms together.

type of guy to also tell you that your body fits perfectly into his hands, his hands mold perfectly with your hips and thighs.

most of the time Marko does dirty talk you, but you can never reply back because most of his dirty talk’s in Italian, and you’re busy trying to keep Marko’s wandering hands from going under your shirt and latching onto your chest.

If Paul’s the most touchy with his hands, Marko takes second place with how touchy he is.

Marko has the tendency to play with his hands when anxious or anticipating something. He rubs his hands or massages his palms, looking off to wherever he’s expecting something.

Marko’s fingers don’t stretch you as much as the rest of the boys do, although the boys might be a bit more chunkier, Marko’s hands are small enough that they stretch you out to where it doesn’t hurt.

Marko’s hand game is strong, Paul gets cramps, but Marko doesn’t, I mean, the boy paints, he’s probably got some cool ass tricks in his sleeves to keep him from losing energy during your bedroom deeds.

Marko likes to listen to your sounds and your body, whenever he’s fingering you, he doesn’t mind the squealing or the squelching, he knows he’s the one who made you sound like that, and if anything, he’s more proud of it.

if I were to rate his fingering skills? 7/10. He’s got some learning to do but most of the time he’ll probably have you screaming his name from his fingers.

Fem!readers, this man eats pussy like he’s starved! Not the point though, because his hands are where it’s at, he knows how to work you up, and loves to tease, the tips of his fingers padded perfectly on top of your clit and he loves to go fast. No mercy. So while he’s enjoying a nice meal, you’re enjoying yourself.

Masc!readers, exactly the same!! This guy sucks cock like an animal and honestly it would take everything to get this guy off your dick. Since Marko’s hands are daintier, his hands definitely look amazing wrapped around you.

Marko would never admit it but, he loves when you stain his fingerless gloves with your cum <3, he’s the real artsy type.

He probably fingers you in public as well, no care in the world.

his favourite past time is watching your hands wrap around his cock, while his hands are bound together to keep him from being impatient <3

tie his pretty hands up and gag him, he likes the challenge!

Marko held you by the hands, his palms pressing them firmly to your back, your stomach to the bed and your back facing him. the curly-headed boy had you pinned to your nest in the cave.

Marko’s growls sounded in your ear as you felt your stomach flutter at his sounds. You could see him from your peripheral vision, his curls falling in front of his eyes as he pinned you.

You could feel the pads of his fingers gently running across the small of your back, almost..appreciating it in a sense, his hands felt soft, yet firm.

Finally, his hands slipped down to your ass, squeezing it in his palms as you squirmed from his firm grip. A small mantra of Marko’s name left your lips, unable to look back to see your boyfriend’s face.

You could feel from the air that he was enjoying this, enjoying you.

Marko, with the strength, turned you around, you laid on your back, bare for his hands to just wander.

His hands travelled from your ass back to your hips, up your stomach, and ended right on your chest. If it wasn’t so lewd, you would’ve thought Marko was giving you a massage.

Marko’s touch teased you relentlessly, you just wanted to yell out for him to touch you, use you. You wanted it so desperately, and Marko knew.

He grinned at your display of biting your lips and the small twitches his touch gave you.

“See, baby? You fit perfectly in the palms of my hands.”

(visuals) :

DAVID

David’s hands are very thick, probably the most thickest out of the boys.

His hands are the best for holding, gripping.

David’s hands could probably cover your whole ass if I know anything.

David’s very careful about his handcare. I think that David has the softest hands out of the boys, he takes good care of them, especially if he wears gloves to cover them.

Though I also think he’s got some blisters, years of driving motorcycles do that to you.

He’s got pretty long fingernails, they’re long enough to have the annoyance of cleaning them every time something gets under his nails.

He brings a cuticle around, I just can’t lie. I think that he’s the type of guy to be like those girls who’s always filing their nails.

probably pinches the hardest as well, he likes to do it when you’re not paying attention and actually causes bruises 😭.

watching him work without his gloves is so attractive, his hands moving as he writes in a notebook or diary, or when he’s playing with a cigar, it’s very, very, attractive.

The pads of his fingers is very soft, not tough like Dwayne’s and Paul’s.

Barely any rings litters his hands and the ones he has are very basic, no intricate designs, most of his complicated rings actually tore through a set of his gloves and he never worn flashy rings ever since.

Leather is his best friend, whether that’d be gloves or the handles of his motorcycle, or in this case, a leash to your collar.

He’s very into oral fixation, he loves shoving his fingers down your throat, likes the ability of being able to choke you out without pulling out his cock to do so.

He’ll also make you suck his digits clean after a long night of teasingly fingering you.

He loves seeing his hands around your throat too, he’s a sadistic little shit, if he doesn’t get off, you don’t either.

I think he’s got the thickest fingers out of the boys, he’s the one who stretches you out the most and sometimes it feels good, but it’s when he teased, that’s when you don’t like it.

Fingering skills are, annoyingly, at a 9/10. It would’ve been a ten if he didn’t tease.

Would NEVER ever paint his nails, like the boys always seem to have black nail polish and Marko’s and Paul’s are always chipped, but David’s is clean, polished, in good health.

His hands wrapped around your waist and dipping into your waistband, the tips of his fingers on the hand of your underwear.

Pulls you to him by hooking his pointer finger into your belt loops and into his chest.

Let him choke you out!!! He’ll be gentle!! Only because you’re human though.

Thumb on your lips always!! His thumbs make good work of finishing you!!!

A small shush left the platinum blonde as you tried to stop your whines, you moved uncomfortably on his motorbike’s seat, the leather being soaked in your wetness.

“careful, dear, you’re making a mess.” David mused, his lips shaped in a taunting smirk as his hands dipped deeper into your core.

You bit your lip to hold in your squeals, teased and tired. David could watch your expressions for the rest of his life.

he’ll never get tired of the way you cling onto his coat, your fingernails digging into its seams, as if any longer you’d have ripped his coat apart from the overwhelming feeling of his fingers pleasing you.

You tried to stay silent, feeling people’s gazes on you as you sat uncomfortable on David’s lap, his coat covered the indecent display of his digits inches deep inside you.

You were desperate for release, searching for your other three boyfriend to earn some mercy from David.

Your eyes looked around the boardwalk, eyes flicking from every similar person who looked similar to your boys.

Suddenly a chuckle and loud voices were heard, you saw your boys from afar. Hopeful, you decided to move off of David’s fingers when his free hand reached up to stop you by the throat.

A light squeeze to your throat, making you gulp and your core pulse with need.

“Eyes on me, dear. Don’t look at anybody else, especially when I’m this deep inside of you.”

(visuals) :

DWAYNE

THE BIGGEST OF THE BOYS!

DEFINITELY has the most veins out of the boys.

Can’t lie, Brit has listened to me want to lick his veins.

He’s got the lengthiest fingers out of them too. He’s the best when it comes to fingering.

His fingernails are nicely trimmed, it’s also littered with rings, his left hand is always bare though since he uses that hand primarily to hold laddie’s and he’s scared that Laddie might get cut from his rings.

Dwayne somewhat cares about his hands, he uses David’s shit though, lotion, Vaseline, serum, cream.

David doesn’t know how he runs out of hand cream so fast too.

Dwayne does carry his own hand sanitizer, but most of it goes to laddie and Paul.

Dwayne doesn’t have really flashy rings either, he doesn’t like the way it clicks together and it puts him in a very uncomfortable situation because he likes to massage his hands when awkward.

He’s big everywhere, his height, his heart, his cock, his hands. It’s crazy.

Prob can carry you in one hand, one arm under your ass and your arms around his neck.

Although he likes fingering, he prefers playing with your clit/cock even more, he’s surprisingly has the best stamina over all the guys but he likes to keep it secret.

A good surprise, I’d say.

I see him as the type to be more sensual than sexual. His hands are best at love-making than rough fucking.

besides Marko, he’s one of the best massuage therapists out there.

His hands somehow find every tense crack in your bones and somehow is able to perform chiropractic procedures like aligning your neck properly or fixing a locked jaw.

He owns a ton of essential oils, his hands always seem to smell of lavender or peppermint, and sometimes he does use it on you.

The boys have learnt that if you both smell like the same thing then you both most likely fucked teehee.

Dwayne’s hands are best for pulling hair!!!

Watch him tangle his digits into your hair and pull gently, maybe whenever you’re sucking him off, or when he needs a little handlebar during sex.

he likes to cover your mouth with his huge hands whenever you’re having a quickie in public, he loves the idea of keeping you quiet with just his hands over your mouth as he dicks you down in a shady alleyway.

He also looks amazing covering his lips with his hands, his veins are more prominent and they run down all the way to his upper arm.

I wouldn’t blame you if you told me you wanted to follow that long vein to the end ;)

his hands definitely flex and his veins show while he grips your headboard to death.

Dwayne’s actor, Billy rips panties with one hand, it’s no surprise Dwayne wouldn’t either.

And god he looks amazing doing so..

Hold his hands while you ride him, he wants to see you be so dependent on him and his hands, he’ll make you feel good, don’t worry! Just relax and let him do the work.

Leaves hand prints all over your body from how strong he grips!

In the end, let Dwayne wash your hair for you! He gives a good massage and he’ll leave you feeling relaxed then ever.

“Yeah…there..” you sighed in content, your stomach to your bed as a deep rumble of a chuckle was heard. “Feel good, sweetheart?” You nodded hazily, your hands gripping onto the sheets with pleasure.

“God Dwayne..when were you going to tell me you were this good?..” you groaned, feeling his huge hands run themselves down your back almost passionately. You could feel his fingers gently scan your back for any tense spots to fix.

A hearty chuckle was only heard from your boyfriend as he gently pushed his thumb into a tense spot in your back, a small crack leaving it as you let out a surprise yelp, before relaxing once again.

“Fuck..” you cursed out, feeling Dwayne’s hands reach up onto your shoulder and dig themselves into your shoulder blade. A whine left your lips as another pop was heard from your body.

You’ve never been so relaxed and turned on at this point, Dwayne feels amused by your reactions, sighing and whining in content and relaxation. He lives for the pleasure he gives you.

His hands massaged one of his favourite scented oils into your skin, hydrating it, and making you smell absolutely delicious to him, he couldn’t help but place a few kisses at the back of your neck as you felt like falling asleep under Dwayne’s touch.

After a while of a slow, long, amazing massage from Dwayne, the dark-haired man deemed you relaxed enough before he gently pulled you by the thighs, resting in between them as you yelped in surprise.

“Think you’re finished? Daddy needs his release too.”

(visuals) :

#✦ buwan consumes.#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys x reader #tlb #poly lost boys #poly lost boys x reader #tlb paul #paul tlb #✦ dwayne’s karma.#dwayne tlb #marko tlb #david tlb #✦ marko’s karma.#✦ paul’s karma.#✦ david’s karma.

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morganski-19 · 1 month

Text

The One with the Ring

(Woah, flashback. This takes place a month after Eddie moves in. Also, since Friends had a lot of flashback episodes, what would y’all like to see as a flashback for this au??)

Eddie stares at the box in his hands, knowing that it’s time. Knowing that he has to get rid of it. It’s useless now. It was barely useful a month ago. Now it was just sitting in his closet, taunting him.

He stands, leaving his room to find Steve sitting on Nancy’s couch with a magazine. “What are you doing here?”

Steve makes a face. “Walls are thin, Robin has a friend over, I lost my earplugs. And I wanted non-shitty coffee.” He takes a sip of the mug that was on the coffee table.

“Ah, makes sense.” Eddie stands there awkwardly, not quite knowing what to do. He’s still adjusting to this friend group, and he and Steve haven’t hung out one on one that much. For a reason. Eddie can’t trust himself yet.

Eddie walks over to the door, placing the ring box on the table while he puts on his jacket.

“Woah, is that a ring box?” Steve questions, not in a pressuring way. “Didn’t know you moved that fast, Munson.”

“Yeah well,” Eddie sighs. “Not going to be anywhere special anytime soon. About to go pawn it.”

Steve’s face falls. “Shit, sorry. I, I should have realized.” He sets down the magazine, standing and about to walk over to Eddie but decides against it. Instead choosing to lean against the back of the couch with his arms crossed. “Wanna talk about it?”

Eddie takes a deep breath. “We were together for three years. Long distance for the last six months. He got a new job, moved here, I had some things I had to take care of before I could move. I got it done faster than expected, thought I’d surprise him. Saw what I needed to see and left.”

“That fucking sucks. And you were going to propose?” Steve says it in a way that makes Eddie want to tell him everything. He can’t give his heart away just yet. But a friend, he could use that.

He nods, picking up the box and opening it. Looking at the ring he spent so long to pick out, making sure it was perfect. Too much effort for the wrong person. “Yeah. I was so sure he was it for me, but the universe has its way of fucking with me. This was just the latest edition.”

Steve walks over to the shoe rack, sliding off his sneakers and putting them on. He looks at Eddie expectantly. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Go where?” Eddie looks at him confused.

“To the pawn shop, then the bar. You deserve a drink after what that asshole put you through.”

Eddie huffs. “Don’t remember when I invited you along.”

“You didn’t,” Steve shrugs. “But I know a great pawn shop that won’t stiff you if that’s worth anything good.”

Eddie gives in. “Ok then, lead the way.”

Steve wasn’t wrong. The pawn shop gave him a pretty good amount for the ring. Not as much as he paid for it, but at least comparable. And then Steve buys him a drink. Or three. Makes his day a little bit better.

“So, how’d you find that place?” Eddie asks.

Steve sighs. “You’re not the only one who bought a ring for a terrible person. Only difference is I didn’t know for a few months after I proposed.”

“Shit,” is all that Eddie can find to say.

“Yeah. Saw a message on her phone from her coworker. I’m not a jealous guy, well most of the time, but I had this feeling about him when I met him. He was so flirty and touchy, and she didn’t stop it. But I trusted her, look where that got me.” Steve takes a long sip of his beer. “Looking back, it wasn’t going to work out. We were fresh out of college and going different places. But I still hoped, you know.”

Eddie sighs. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, though. She didn’t deserve you.”

“And he didn’t deserve you either.”

“If I were lucky enough to get someone like you, I’d never do anything to let him go.” Eddie knows exactly the look that’s on his face, but he can’t stop it.

Steve smiles at him. “I could say the same thing about someone like you.”

Eddie has to look away before he does something stupid. Has to call it a day after he finishes his drink. They walk back to their building, saying goodbye when they get to their apartments. Eddie leaning on the door as it closes, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes.

He is so fucked.

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @mentallyundone, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug

#some more lore for you all #morgan's friends au #steddie #pre relationship #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #friends au #stranger things au #ficlet #stranger things ficlet #flashback

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upsidedownwithsteve · 1 year

Note

Bestie your slut is immaculate 🤌🏻. Would you maybe be able to write a makeup sex scenario with Steve???? I’d give everything for that

18+

Honestly, you couldn’t remember what you and Steve had been arguing about. You don’t recall how it had started, or how it had even ended, just that you were pouting in the kitchen whilst the boy was stomping about upstairs.

You think it had been something to do with his late shifts, your early mornings, ships passing in the night, gone before he woke up, asleep before he got home. You’d missed him. He’d missed you. But communicating that got lost in the stress of a burnt dinner and a laundry load of whites that got mixed in with one of Steve’s green socks and suddenly everything was turquoise, smoke filled the kitchen and you were both yelling.

It ended abruptly, sharply and with a slammed door. You weren’t sure who’d done it, but maybe, you thought with a scrunch of your nose, it had been you. Guilt ate at your stomach, turned over in your tummy like acid and suddenly you missed Steve more than ever. You hadn’t even gotten a kiss hello from him before the argument erupted.

So you trailed up the stairs, stepping lightly so you could hear the soft grumbles from behind the closed bedroom door, and when you opened it, you softened completely. Steve was folding laundry on the bed, as neatly as he could, brow furrowed and cheeks still flushed.

His eyes snapped to you, that knot between his brows soothing away when he saw the downturn of your lips, the glassy sheen to your eyes. Still, he sighed, tired. “Babe, I don’t wanna fight, alright? Can we talk about it in the morning?”

It wasn’t unkind, the way he said it, just frustrated, calm enough to understand that yelling wasn’t going to help this time. You nodded, walking into the room so you could perch yourself on the desk that served as half of your vanity, half of Steve’s workspace. You toed off your fluffy socks, the ones with mini cows printed on them.

Steve was watching you, a little confused, a little on edge.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” you told him. “Not now, not in the morning.”

The boy raised his brows, waiting for the hook, like this was a trick. “We don’t?” He murmured, voice full of doubt.

You shook your head, hands grabbing the hem of your shirt, throwing it to the floor. Your pyjama shorts left little to the imagination.

Steve’s gaze darkened, pupils blown wide at all the bare skin, lips parting and you heard the quiet sigh that left his mouth, the hitch in his breath that never got old.

“No,” you agreed, voice soft. “We can just fuck instead, yeah?”

He was on you without missing a second, zero hesitation as he abandoned his stack of folded shirts and pushed himself between your legs. Steve kissed you without any warm up, his lips a familiar press against your own and you’d shared enough kisses with the boy to know how this worked. You sighed, overwhelmingly happy to feel him against you and you parted your lips for him without a second thought.

Tongues pressing over tongues, teeth clashing, hot and needy and desperate. There was no warm up, none required after your argument left you both tinged with longing and guilt, just enough leftover frustration for you to grab a little meanly at the other. Your hands fisted Steve’s hair, earning you a rough groan that you swallowed and kept for yourself.

Steve’s palms roamed your body, never settled enough, always seeking more, grabbing at your waist, your tits, pulling you closer by your hips before cradling your jaw, titling you the way he wanted so he could kiss you deeper still. And then, his fingers coasted down, skimming across the curve of your stomach, all warm skin and calloused touches, pulling at the waistband of your shorts until he could swipe through your folds and grunt at how wet you were.

“How’d you want me?” Steve panted it into your mouth, a kiss that wasn’t a kiss, lips barely moving but not daring to part.

“Like this,” you told him, just a breathy, just as desperate. “Now, baby, need you now.”

You curled your legs around his hips, thighs gripping him, heels pressed to his ass to encourage him closer. He moaned at your impatience, grabbing the collar of his t-shirt so he could rip it off and launch it at the clean pile on the bed. Together, you made quick work of his belt, buttons popping, leather snapping, denim pushed down just enough to free his hard cock from his boxers, red and leaking at the tip for you. It made you whine, hand grabbing at the length of it while Steve pumped one, then two fingers into you. They hooked into the spot you loved real quick, running little circles and making you gasp out, pulling at the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck.

“Fuck, honey,” Steve groaned, mouthing over your throat, teeth nipping, wanting you left lilac and rose for him, all marked up as his own. “Spread your legs for me, c’mere baby…”

He slid into you like that, faster than he normally would, pausing when he was fully seated inside of you to let you adjust and catch your breath. Your forehead was against his, his chin ducked down to meet you, lips swollen and red from your kisses, cheeks the same pretty colour.

“Fuck, Steve, please.”

A snap of his hips, a little mean, all pent up frustration and too many nights of missing you. Another, harder still, deeper than before, his hands hooked under your thighs to keep you open for him. He kissed you sweet though, smiling into it when you nudged your nose against his own and whined, seeking out his mouth, pouting, needy, already fucking putty for him.

“M’sorry, baby, my sweet girl,” he murmured. “So good for me, aren’t you? Fuck, don’t wanna fight, I’m sorry—”

You tried to say sorry back, you really did. But Steve found it more amusing to fuck you into the wall, grinning each time your apology got stuck in your throat and high mewl came out intead. And that was okay, he could tell by your glassy eyes and the way you clung to him that you were sorry too. And if you had to wake him up in the morning to apologise again?

Well, that was okay too.

…

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington smut #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader smut #steve baby blurb

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adventuringblind · 7 months

Text

Oscar The Matchmaker: Chapter Four

Summary: Lando wants answers, Charles gets more then he bargained for, The trio surprises in many ways

Warnings: Lando and Charles are in the room hiding, PinV, Porn with minor plot, oral, Dom/Sub, Established dynamics (Kind of), sub space, cock warming, marking, bruising, overstimulation

Notes: pure, filthy, shameless smut.

Previous <-

Masterlist

The following work is for 18 and older. Minors, please DNI.

Lando had wanted to surprise his teammate. The horrendous season they’ve had thus far was taking a toll on the rookie and he wanted to cheer him up. He’d grabbed Charles and somehow managed to nab his room key. He’d planned to take the Australian and his ‘best friend’ out to the bar.

Everyone knows him and the AlphaTauri rookie are dating. It’s obvious. What he couldn’t get his mind around was Max. His friend who’d been spending an awful lot of time with the two.

Max had done well to avoid his questions and change the subject. And his motivation to take his teammate out and get alcohol in him definitely wasn’t to get to the bottom of it.

It’s not long that the two are waiting. Charles absently scrolling through instagram and Lando texting Pierre and Carlos to meet them there later. The door handle starts jiggling and Lando is up and ready to do.

What he was not expecting was three voices. One of them very clearly Max’s.

Lando grabs Charles and they dive into the closet.

“I’m confused.” Whispers charles urgently. “Aren’t we going out?”

“Yes but this is better.”

“I still can’t believe I lost my room key.” Groans an unpleased Oscar.

“Yeah, kept us waiting a whole extra five minutes.” The female teases and tosses herself onto the bed. “You’ve already been teasing me all day. I thought you might have done it on purpose.”

“Careful with that attitude.” Max is already hovering over her.

“You were the one getting handsy in the hall, Max Emilian.”

“He’s just inpatient.” There’s a hunger and lust in Oscar’s voice the makes her flush hard.

Charles is tapping on Lando’s knees rapidly. “I don’t think we should be here.”

“Shush, I’m finally getting answers!”

“Pretty sure you’re going to get more then that.”

“I am inpatient because you two and your race suits tied around your waists does things to me.” Max smirks. His lips press soft kisses to the females collarbone.

Oscar is quick to get behind Max and rid him of his shirt. Tossing it somewhere in the room to be found later. “Glad you’re enjoying the view. But I Reckon you’re probably on the cusp of giving up tonight.”

Max groans. “Please tell me you weren’t winding me up as well so I’d give you control.”

Oscar lays wet kisses to Max’s spine. “You’re to pretty for that. I think you like when I take it.”

“Holy shit.”

“No way.”

“Did you know your teammate could do that?”

“How would I know that Oscar has the ability to make Max fucking Verstappen weak in the knees?”

“I don’t know mate. Sometimes teammates just know things.”

“Plus I’m pretty sure you were in charge last week.” Reminds the female.

“This is a true fact. I couldn’t walk on Monday.”

“My hips were bruised and we both were covering the stupid rope burns.”

“And yet neither of you were complaining.”

“Doesn’t matter it’s my turn.”

“… now look who’s inpatient.”

Oscar rids himself of his own shirt and the helps the female out of hers. The room is filled with heavy pants and muffled moans and they kiss each other with no hesitation. Their clothes being discarded in intervals.

“I don’t want to be here for the next part.”

“Fifty bucks says Max ends up on top.”

“Can’t believe I’m doing this. Fine.”

“We could always share the role.”

“Maxy, you are far to stubborn for that and we both know it.” Oscar lands another kiss to his collarbone. “Plus I quite enjoy the look in your face when you come undone.”

She was on top of Max. Him already inside her. She’d been told not to move and she was keen on not getting in the middle of their feud lest she become a victim.

Max is already a mess. Oscar knows exactly what he’s doing. It has been a half hour and he’d successfully brought the Dutchman into some reluctant form of submission.

It’s a game played between the two. Another race of sorts to see who could get control first. She was privy to whatever happened and always ended up on the other side blissfully fucked out.

Both of them like having it. Neither of them like letting it go.

Oscar sets himself in between Max’s legs right behind her. His hands reaching down the front of her to toy gently with her clit.

She blames it on the fact that being good with their fingers is part of the job and that’s why it’s an addicting feeling. She bites into her lip to suppress a moan.

“Nu-uh, you sound to pretty. I want to hear you.” And then she can’t hold it back. The sounds he’s pulling from her are soft and gentle whines.

Max is once again getting inpatient. He’s attempting (and failing) at thrusting his hips into her. Alas, Oscar is pinning his waist with his free hand. The weight stopping Max from really getting anywhere.

Oscars fingers are speeding up. He lets go of Max’s waist to guid his hands to the females hips. She can already feel the bruises forming. It’s Max’s only way of attempting to restrain himself from losing any sense of control he has left over his actions.

Her rapidly approaching edge is only being escalated by the feeling.

Then somehow they both move. Oscar makes to attack her neck and shoulders with his teeth and Max’s leans upward and attaches his mouth to her tit.

It’s overwhelming. Every nerve in her body is being stimulated. Their skin rubbing agains hers intensifying every feeling. Their names roll off her tongue like it’s the only things she knows how to say.

“Cum for us, love.”

Every thought in her brain disappears. A silent scream falling from her mouth as she falls off the cliff. Her body goes rigid and the boys are continuing through her high.

She almost collapses into Oscar, but his body keeps her upright. Her ears are ringing and her chest heaving.

But she is well aware this is far from over.

“Mate we are definitely invading their privacy.”

“Well it’s to late to go now.”

“So far, you still owe me fifty.”

“I highly doubt they are finished.”

She regains her breath eventually. Neither of them have moved since she came down aside from gentle touch’s and the whispers of sweet nothings. She can actively feel Max relaxing and melting at Oscars flowery words.

Oscar set the pace of how she moves. Complete control over her body and actions. He’s calculating the timing of everything.

Max has officially given in. His hands are now bruising her thighs but he’s past the point of fighting anymore. He just lets Oscar guide them through it.

He’s grinding her body into his. Max is a moaning mess beneath her. Quite pleas grace her ears as Max begs for anything more then this.

Oscars moans are also picking up. He’d taken to moving her in such a way the her body also presses against his. He’s essentially grinding into her ass as she moves.

“Fuck- your two are so hot.” Oscar breathes into her skin. He quickens the movements, slamming her hips down into Max. She can see the Dutch losing his grip on reality. Her finger dig in his shoulders as his dig further into her thighs.

Then Max is beginning again. His back is arching forward and he’s tipping over the edge. Somewhere she can hear Oscars approval and his broken moans as they both finish.

Warmth floods her body and coats her back. It’s times like this she wishes condoms were not a necessity at that he actually finished in her so they could do things with it later.

Regardless, she’s yet to finish a second time and she thinks that the boys will pull her off. She is wrong and instead Max is finally getting his wish and thrusting up into her.

She can’t even warn them as she falls over the edge again. Her brain now empty of anything except feelings and sensations and her attraction to the males in the room.

“How many rounds do you think they’ll go?”

“No idea. How many have you gone before?”

“When I have the stamina for it, maybe six. You?”

“Maybe five, that I can count.”

“What do you mean that you can count?”

“You’re telling me you’ve never lost track before?”

“Unless I was drunk, never.”

“We should definitely change that.”

Oscar’s turn with her now. Her thoughts are completely lost and her body feels floaty. Almost as if someone gave her laughing gas. It only increases her sensitivity.

She can barely register what’s happening. Oscar is inside her and Max is down her throat. She suffocates and chokes on him but the feeling of the Aussie pinning her down with his weight and his hips snapping rapidly counteracts it.

Max keeps placing her hand on him somewhere so she can tap out of he’s fucking her mouth to hard or just needs air. But it keeps falling. Her brain to foggy to control her own actions.

It’s not long until she’s at the edge for a third time and the other two are still chasing their highs. She registers their praise in there somewhere. ‘Good girl’ and ‘perfect’ can be heard leaving their lips in between pants, moans, and swear words.

Oscars hips stutter agains her and Max is leaking down the back of her throat. The sensation is almost as if they are conducting a symphony of highs and lows. It’s mesmerizing and she could get lost in it forever.

“He still hasn’t been on top and honestly, I’m shocked.”

“I really didn’t think Oscar had it in him.”

“I think you just hate the idea that you’re the bottom between you two.”

“I am not! Why would you even think that anyways?”

“I don’t know, you just radiate bottom energy.”

Normally, they’d start with oral. Tonight, it’s how they are winding down.

Max is between Oscar’s thighs sucking him off. Oscar is between hers lapping unceremoniously at every fluid coming out of her. And she is just a writhing mess.

She’s lost her words and her brain. Reduced to a pile of flailing limbs and floaty feelings. Her hands are searching for a body she knows is there but can only find soft brown locks and the hands that are prying her legs apart.

She's lost count out this point how many times they’ve tipped her over that edge. She knows Oscar must be getting close again as well. The moans vibrating her core getting progressively stronger.

She's hitting the wall in her brain where she can't go any further. "Osc, I can't." She slurs. She could stop them if she wanted to. But then the floaty feeling goes away, and she doesn't want that yet.

"One more, love."

Oscar digs his fingers into her as Max brings him to his breaking point. She follows after him. The look is his eyes sending her fave first once again into the abyss of pleasurable fire.

She does scream this time. Her body contorts in ways she didn't know were possible. She doesn't register the tears sliding down her cheeks or Max's lips on hers, trying to get her to calm down. The taste of Oscar is still fresh on his lips.

Her whole body aches. All three of them are panting heavily, collapsing onto the bed ungracefully to catch their breathes.

She looks between them. How did she get so lucky? And how on earth are they both so damn pretty?

"Next time, I'm in charge."

"Must we go another round to show why that's not happening?"

Their voices are pretty, too. Swimming in her ears as she continues to look between them.

"We gotta get you cleaned up, lovely."

Her body spasms once again at the touch of her lovers, and she violently shakes her head no. She doesn't want to leave this head space. She wants to stare here in this blissful state.

The bed shifts as the two males get up. She whines in disapproval is attempts to get her body upright.

She fails miserably.

Then come back with rags. It's a normal routine for them, getting cleaned up the reassuring and cuddling and spending time with each other.

"I think we bruised her pretty good." Oscar admires his work and caresses her skin thoughtfully.

"Os, are there extra towels? You have like two in here that aren't already used." Calls out Max from the bathroom.

"Should have extras in the closet, I think "

"Of fuck."

"Maybe he means a different closet?"

The two males anxuisly await what could be their demise. The heavy footsteps of Max make its way closer.

"Do you want your sweats, love?"

"Yeah, actually."

The two waiting for their doom are so grateful that Max at least will be covered while he kills them.

Then the light from the room is burning their retinas, and the two are shielding their eyes.

"What the fuck?!" Max slams the closet doors back on them. "We're going to put clothes on, and then you are going to explain yourselves and hope I don't kill you both."

"Can I have my fifty bucks before I die because if you?"

"Absolutely not."

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lovelytsunoda · 11 months

Text

proud mary // han lue

summary: now living a quiet life with their daughter, han and y/n reflect on how they got there, and all the good moments that are still yet to come.

pairing: han lue x wife! reader

warnings: this is a big one so listen up: mentions of post pregnancy mental illness, mentions of pregnancy and starting a a family, weddings, ignoring tokyo drift canon because I fucking can, (actually I ignored a lot of canon) han is about to activate a shit ton of daddy issues

I left a good job in the city, working for the man every night and day and I never lost one minute of sleeping, I was worrying 'bout the way the things might've been.

big wheel keeps on turning, proud mary keeps on burning. and we’re rolling, rolling, rolling down the river

2009, tokyo, japan.

the garage was dark, lit only by the moonlight and the small lamps atop the workstations. han lue had closed up hours ago, and everyone was gone save for him and his lover.

“han, what are you doing?” y/n laughed, sitting at a table scattered with nail polish bottles and a shellac brisa light. “it looks like a smudge.”

“it’s a drifting car!” han laughed, staring through the large magnifying glass that was allowing him to see the design he was attempting to paint on his lovers thumbnail. “see, there’s the spoiler and those are the headlights!”

friday night manicures had become somewhat of a tradition. y/n hated painting her nails with her non dominant hand, but she also didn’t speak enough japanese to venture out and get her nails professionally done. when she and han started dating, he offered to do it for her, easing the aggravation that sometimes came with doing mail designs yourself.

“well, now that you’ve pointed it out.” she laughed, kissing him on the cheek. “I love you.”

they had been together coming up on two years. two long, wonderful years. she was a mechanic and he was drifter, it was almost meant to be. she stopped him from getting himself killed, and in return, he loved her unconditionally.

they were sympatico like that. she loved his sense of humour, his protectiveness. he loved her smarts and the excited way she talked, animatedly and with hand gestures.

“what do you say we get out of japan for a bit?”

han should have known this question was coming. y/n was a restless spirit, never meant to stay in one place for too long. in a way, han was as well. he could tell that his lover had been more restless than usual, either from missing home or needing a change of scenery.

“a friend of mine, his name is dominic torretto, he’s got this place down in the dominican republic.” han started slowly, unsure of how much he wanted to involved her in. y/n was his whole world, and what dom and mia would be running was far bigger than street racing in shibuya.“he called me the other day wondering if I would run a job with him. but it’s not entirely legal and I don’t blame you if you don’t want any part in it.”

“baby,” she frowned, placing her hand inside the blue light machine. “of course I’ll go with you. I never pass up a chance to go somewhere sunny, and you know that I’d go anywhere with you. what we’re running here with twinkie and sean isn’t exactly legal either, you know. I’m a big girl, seoul-oh. I can handle myself.”

“I know. I just want you to know what you’re getting into. you’re important to me, y/n.”

“I know.” she said softly, running her hand up his arm as she rested her head on his shoulder, gently kissing his neck. “so when does our flight leave?”

“whenever you want it to. I haven’t even bought the tickets yet. are you ready for an adventure?”

“fuck yeah.” y/n smiled, pressing her lips to his. “but you have to paint my other nails first.”

han laughed, the kind of laugh that would always set loose the butterflies in y/n’s chest, the kind that reminded her why she fell in love with him in the first place.

“I don’t think I have it in me to paint another drifting car.”

“then what are you going to paint on my thumbnail?” y/n laughed back, looking down at her nails and realizing that her lover had actually done a very good job painting a drifting car manicure.

“I don’t know,” han shrugged. he would deny it if asked, but he actually loved painting y/n’s nails. he thought it brought them closer together, built up intimacy in their relationship.

they were moments he wouldn’t trade for the world.

“I’ll just do like a checkered flag or something.”

“but you did that on my index finger!”

laughing, y/n turned her head to kiss him. “come on, you big dork. the sooner we get my nails done, she sooner I can model that new lingerie set I bought last weekend.”

“sold!” han laughed, knocking over bottles of gel polish as he searched for the bright pink he had used to paint the car on his girlfriends other hand. “drifting car? f1 car? whatever my gorgeous gorgeous girl wants.”

“I love you, han lue.”

“love you more, pretty girl.”

2010, monte carlo, monaco.

it was set up to be another sleepless night without her lover by her side, and y/n was having none of that as she wandered the deck of the comfortable yacht, looking around at the decorations that the crew had spent the day putting up.

she was just praying that it wasn’t going to rain.

nothing was about to spoil her big day.

she scurried below deck, past a half open door through which she could hear roman pearce’s guttural snores. fingers curled around the door knob, she tried not to make any noise as she eased the door open, slipping into the cabin.

“you couldn’t sleep either?” she laughed, looking at the king size bed where her fiancé lay, phone in his hands as he texted his mother, who the crew was picking up in the harbour in the morning before the ceremony began.

“got a lot on my mind.” han shrugged. “fucking tej won’t shut up about the reception and the playlist and I’ve told him a million times that it’s not going to be some crazy rave kinda thing.” the man sat up, gesturing for his soon-to-be wife to come closer. "it's doing my head in. seriously, he wants to do a club mix of 'i would do anything for love'."

y/n snorted. han thought she looked like an angel in the low cabin light, a halo glowing around her head and shining off her white silk pajamas, the ones with the tiny shorts and 'bride' embroidered on the butt. "how the fuck do you turn the best meat loaf song in existence into a club rave song?"

"the fuck if i know." han shook his head, hands sliding up her thighs as she came to stand in between his legs. "jagi, sarang-hae."

honey, i love you.

"mhm." she hummed, a smile on her lips as she leaned down to kiss him sweetly. "i love it when you speak korean. it's so fucking sexy."

the last year had been stressful. the dominican job had been way more complex than y/n had expected, and it took a while for han's old crew to warm up to her. it took a while, but eventually she managed to crack dom toretto, and two weeks later, han got down on one knee and asked y/n to marry him.

hence why they were on a yacht off the coast of monaco, the entire thing decked out in fairly lights and tulle.

"if you think tej is bad, you try getting in between letty and those large plastic ribbons on the back of the deck chairs." y/n laughed. "who knew letty ortiz was so serious about weddings?"

she was practically sitting on his lap now, head resting comfortably on his shoulder as the boat rocked back and forth.

han seoul-oh was her home. her safe harbour. she always felt safe in his arms, at his side, even when they were plunging into almost certain danger like they had in the dominican.

"i brought you something." y/n hummed, reaching into the pockets of her shorts and withdrawing the small cardboard packet.

"fake nails?"

"help me put them on? for old time's sake." she passed him the glittery white french tips, no doubt chosen to match her dress for the ceremony tomorrow.

"i can't wait to spend my life with you. and believe me, there will be plenty more manicure mondays."

2014, monterrey, california.

"daddy, where's mommy?"

"i don't think she's feeling well, poppy." han lue frowned, looking over at his daughter, who was perched in her little kiddie chair at the kitchen table. "i'm going to go check on her, okay? stay right here."

how do you explain depression to an infant? poppy jae-i han had been one of the best things to have ever happened to han seoul-oh. but in the almost twenty-four months since their bundle of joy had been born, something had felt off about his wife.

everyone hears about the mental health complications that can come with childbirth, but no mother ever thinks it would be her.

every husband fears it, too.

"y/n, jagi?" han tried to keep his voice level as he eased open the bedroom door. the couple had bought a ranch house in monterrey when they learned they were expecting. it was one of the few things they used their ill-gotten gains as a part of dom's crew for. "poppy's asking for you."

it broke his heart to see his wife like this, hair messed and greasy, red splotches under her eyes from where she had been crying.

"am i a bad mother, seoul-oh?" she asked, voice small. she seemed so tiny and fragile underneath the layers of blankets on the queen bed. "she always seems to cry when i'm around, but never with you. poppy loves you more than she loves me."

"what?" it was all han could do to stop himself from crying as he sat on the bed, gently running his fingers through y/n's hair. "sweetheart, what's brought this on? poppy loves you. you're her mom. she needs you."

"mia makes it look so easy." y/n sniffled, pulling herself up to a sitting position. she's lost weight. not a noticeable amount, or even an unhealthy one, but enough that her husband knows. there are many things that you can hide from the man you share your bed with, but han knows. he knows she's not doing well. "and i'm fucking shit at it, han."

"look at me, pretty girl." han encouraged, reaching for her hands. "you are such a good mother. i know you're struggling right now, and i know you're hurting but you need to know that poppy loves you so much. she was asking about you over breakfast, you know."

"i don't know who i am any more. i've lost my sense of self."

han frowned, brushing a few strands of greasy hair away from her forehead before leaning down and gently kissing her hairline.

"listen, i was talking to brian last night-"

"of course you were fucking talking to brian."

"-and he thinks you should talk to mia. they're passing through town today on their way back from dom and letty's, brian and i are going to take the kids out to the zoo or whatever, and you and mia should do something." he suggested, running his hand comfortingly up and down his lover's back. "go to the mall, get a coffee. i think she could really help you. she's been through this before."

y/n inhaled shakily, pulling away from han. "what if something happens to poppy and i'm not there?"

"y/n, everything is going to be okay. i promise. brian will be there, the kids will be in great hands. go do something with mia, darling. find yourself again, yeah?"

"okay." y/n nodded, still clutching his hand like it was her lifeline. "i can do that."

"mommy?" a small voice called. poppy had managed to get herself all the way from the kitchen to the master bedroom, where han had left the door ajar just in case poppy needed them. "are you okay?"

"oh, sweetheart, come here." y/n said, tears beginning to fall.

because how could she ever think that her little bundle of joy didn't love her as much as she did? poppy waddled over to the bed, and han hefted the toddler onto the mattress so that y/n could pull her close.

"you know that mummy loves you, right?"

"yes. i love you too, mommy."

"see." han smiled. "you're going to be okay. we're going to get through this."

2017, monterrey, california.

"i genuinely can't comprehend that roman pearce is getting married."

the family of three was walking down the nail care aisle at walmart, a welcome addition to their weekly shopping trip as y/n scanned the packages on the rack for a set of acrylic nails.

han laughed, one hand around his wife's waist and his chin on her shoulder as he leaned against the shopping cart. "it's not going to last. they may be getting married on saturday but i bet that by christmas roman is going to call and tell us she asked for a divorce."

"don't be so cynical." y/n laughed, kissing her husband softly before holding up a small white box. "do these go with my dress?"

"they'll go with anything, babe." han said, moving to whisper in her ear “they'd look even better wrapped around my c-"

"i want nails like mom's!" poppy han's shout cut him off, the little girl looking at the array of disney princess nails on the lower shelves.

laughing, han knelt down next his daughter, one hand on her shoulder. "which one do you want, princess? do you want frozen, tinker bell? mulan?"

"i want the ariel ones." poppy smiled, reaching for the pack of little mermaid nails. han helped her get them off the hook before lifting her up, carrying the six year old securely against his chest.

"seoul-oh, she's like six, you're spoiling her by carrying her all the time." y/n laughed, dropping both packs of nails in the cart.

"what, she's not heavy, sweetheart." han grins. "besides, i have to stay in shape somehow."

y/n rolls her eyes. "sweetie, it's bold of you to assume that you were ever in shape. but i loved you anyways, didn't i?"

back at home, they settled in the living room, near the large bay window. y/n watched contentedly from the kitchen as han sat at the coffee table across from poppy, delicately brushing nail glue across his daughter's tiny nails, dropping the glittery little mermaid nails on top.

it had taken a while to get to this peaceful, quiet part of their life, but y/n han was so glad that they had made it. that she had seoul-oh and that she had little poppy.

"be careful with your nails, they might come off. now, go get your homework done before we make the pizza, okay?"

poppy scurried off down the hall to her room, and y/n padded across the shag carpet, looping her arms around her husbands neck as she gave him a kiss.

"i'm so lucky, you know that. i'm happy and healthy again, and i have you and poppy. that's everything i could ever ask for." she said softly, resting her head against han's chest as the man tilted his head down, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

of course they both missed the good old days. the days of adrenaline and adventure. but brian and mia had left, and then y/n and han, and soon after was letty and dom. they were moving on with their lives, a chapter of glitz and glamour coming to a close.

"i want another one."

y/n froze, pulling back from her husband. "what?"

"i want another baby. and i know what we went through last time, and i fully understand if you're not willing to take that chance again, but god, y/n, i want a big family with you." han explained, holding his wife's hands. "poppy is growing up. soon she's going to be too cool for dear old dad. and then there will be boys-"

"or she'll be like you," y/n cuts him off with a laugh. "in which case there will be lots and lots of girls."

"god help us all. my little girl is going to break a lot of hearts one day."

"and you want another one?"

"honestly? yeah, i do."

"then i guess we'd better start trying. multiplication isn't that hard, so poppy's gonna be looking for us within the next hour." y/n hummed, kissing her lover softly.

han smiled against her lips, hands slipping into her jeans pockets to cop a feel of his wife's ass. "i only need half that."

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#han lue x reader #han seoul oh x reader #han seoul oh #fast and the furious x reader #fast and the furious #tina: the series by lovelytsunoda #han x reader #han lue #sung kang #Spotify

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