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worseforwords · 2 months

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Danger

(Alessia Russo x Reader)

Chapter IV of Marshmallow

Four minutes. That’s how long it took for Alessia to say something that made your head spin when you saw each other again for the first time after Paris. You were in the changing room, unable to stop yourself from eavesdropping on the conversation on the other side of the room after Beth asked Alessia about the weekend you spent together in the city of love. “Yeah, it was really romantic. It almost felt real in a way.”

Her words caused you to perk up in an instant, and you could hear big, dramatic gasps emanating from Beth, Vic, and Kyra. “No, not like that, you idiots,” she quickly added. Of course not. Of course, it wasn’t like that.

The next few weeks once again revolved around finding the right balance between you and Alessia which was tougher than it seemed at first. You consciously distanced yourself from Alessia, even though you valued the friendship and connection the two of you had built over the past two months.

About three weeks in, you started feeling like you finally had things under control. You saw each other in training, talked and laughed together, but you always kept it light and casual. Both of you mostly fell back into your usual friend groups, so avoiding her outside of football wasn’t that hard, although you had to come up with excuses a few times in the process.

You were really feeling more confident in your own defences, so when Leah begged you to finally join a team night out again, you said yes. After all, you had started to run out of reasons not to, and obviously, you couldn’t tell her the real one.

The night out at the bar with your teammates was exactly what you needed after a long week of training. As you entered the lively bar, the sounds of laughter and music welcomed you. The atmosphere was electric, and you could tell it was going to be a memorable evening.

Leah wasted no time in rounding everyone up for a round of drinks. “First round’s on me!” she exclaimed with a mischievous grin, already heading towards the bar as you followed closely behind.

Meanwhile, Beth and Viv found a cozy corner booth for all of you to sit. Katie, true to form, was already causing a scene, engaging in animated conversation with the bartender as she ordered a round of shots for the table. “Make ‘em strong, mate!” she called out, earning a chuckle from the rest of the group.

“Katie, you’re going to get us kicked out before we’ve even had a chance to sit down,” Beth teased, rolling her eyes playfully.

“Relax! I’m just trying to spice things up a bit,” Katie retorted with a wink, earning another round of laughter from the group.

As the night progressed and the drinks kept flowing, Katie’s suggestion of playing a drinking game was met with enthusiastic approval from the group. The game started innocently enough, with rounds of laughter and playful banter filling the air. Laura was the first to lose a round, and she accepted her fate with a grin, downing a shot with flair.

Next up was Vic, who groaned dramatically when she lost. “Alright, no more shots for me. Hit me with your best dare,” she declared, rolling her eyes playfully. After a brief debate the group decided she had to do a TikTok dance all by herself on the empty dance floor. Brave as she was she did so without much hesitation, before sprinting back to the booth and falling into a fit of giggles in embarrassment.

After a couple of rounds, the alcohol had clearly taken its effect, and the laughter grew louder with each passing moment. The first few rounds you were on top of your game, and admittedly also a bit lucky. Luck wasn’t on your side forever though, and as the alcohol started taking its effect on you too, you eventually found yourself making more mistakes and losing a round.

Having had plenty of alcohol by now, you too decided on doing a dare instead of a shot. As everyone started discussing what they could have you do, Katie’s voice cut through the chatter, “How about you tell us how good of a kisser Alessia is!”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you shot a startled, somewhat angry glance at Alessia, who met your gaze with an apologetic expression. You hadn’t realised anyone beyond the two of you knew about your intimate moment in Paris.

Alessia’s eyes then darted to Vic, who was busy shooting daggers across the table at Katie, who remained grinning, awaiting your response. It dawned on you how naive you had been to think such a juicy secret could remain between just the two of you in this team, but you couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed in Alessia. Though you now realised she likely saw the kiss as nothing more than a funny anecdote, and you couldn’t blame her for that. Unlike you, one sloppy kiss hadn’t left her longing for more, wanting to do it again every time you moved your lips to speak. She didn’t think about the feeling of your hands caressing the back of her neck every time she caught a whiff of your perfume, and she sure as hell didn’t imagine being trapped against a wall anytime you leaned into her before a corner. She wasn't pathetic like that. And neither were you, of course.

“I’ll take the shot instead,” you declared, tossing it back before excusing yourself and swiftly heading towards the toilet. You splashed some water on your face, and waited a while, hoping the topic of conversation would change whilst you were gone. Stepping back out after a minute, you found Alessia waiting in the hallway.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, her expression apologetic as she placed a hand on your arm, indicating her sincerity. “I was stupid enough to think that would spread this quickly.”

“It’s fine, really,” you replied as you turned away, intending to rejoin the team, but Alessia’s grip on your wrist stopped you. “Wait—” she said and you turned around expectantly just as she tripped over her own feet and stumbled towards you, letting herself be caught by you.

“Oh hi,” she said, her face now mere centimetres away from yours, and the familiar smell of her breath mixed with the smell of alcohol messed with your brain. “Maybe we should… you know— practice being girlfriends again, in case your parents show up or whatever,” she suggested with a grin, prompting you to steady her on her feet. She was clearly very intoxicated, more so than you and you realised there was no use in explaining to her again that your fake relationship was over. “Let’s head back inside shall we?” You suggested, avoiding her gaze as you turned away from her once more.

“Yes! Let’s dance,” she exclaimed excitedly, following behind you. By the time you arrived, your teammates were already dancing the night away, and you quickly made your way over to Leah, distancing yourself from Alessia.

“Mate, are you okay?” Leah asked, concern evident in her voice as she observed your expression. “You look proper floored.”

“Yeah, all good,” you lied, forcing a smile. “Nothing to worry about,” you tried to reassure her. Leah remained quiet for a bit, looking you up and down then scanning your face, seemingly unconvinced. “Well, great,” she replied finally, crossing her arms. “Now why the hell didn’t you tell me the two of you kissed?”

“Oh, that,” you began, trying to sound casual. “It didn’t mean anything, okay? So just drop it, please.” The annoyance in your voice caught yourself off guard and you quickly shifted your gaze to the floor, in fear of Leah’s reaction. “Jesus, all right,” she said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Didn’t mean to step on your toes, mate.”

“Sorry Lee,” you groaned with an apologetic smile, although you knew she wasn’t really mad at you. She knew you were upset but she also knew you were as stubborn as a mule when it came to being vulnerable and talking about your feelings. She rolled her eyes dramatically and said, “Yeah, whatever. Let’s just have a good time and forget about it, alright?”

You danced with Leah and some other teammates for a while before some of them headed to the bar with the promise of yet another round of drinks. Alessia seized the moment, pulling you into the centre of the lively crowd. The atmosphere was charged with energy, and Alessia, unburdened by inhibitions, twirled you around with an infectious grin.

As the music intensified, Alessia’s movements grew bolder. In the dim light and pulsating music, she closed the distance between you, her hand lingering on yours, and her body moving in sync with yours. You swallowed hard as you realised your intoxicated state inhibited you from doing anything but enjoy this moment.

At one point, the music slowed, and Alessia’s hand found its way to the small of your back, her gaze locking onto yours. She leaned in, a hint of mischief in her eyes, and you tensed, any questions you had getting stuck in your throat as you anticipated her next move.

Alessia’s lips brushed against your cheek, dangerously close to a kiss, but as you looked over her shoulder, you noticed Leah raising an eyebrow at you from where she stood across the bar. The realisation of what was happening hit you like a jolt, and you instinctively pulled back, breaking the intimate moment. A wave of conflicting emotions surged within you—temptation, confusion, and the desperate need to regain control. And you ran.

Leah caught up with you after a few minutes. “Hey! Wait, Y/N,” she called, grabbing your shoulder to slow you down from behind. “I don’t want to talk about it, Lee,” you groaned.

“Fine, don’t talk. But you’re not going home alone. I’m calling us an Uber,” she declared, and you knew there was no changing her mind. “Fine,” you sighed.

As you and Leah settled into the Uber, the ride was uncomfortably quiet. Each passing streetlight cast fleeting shadows across Leah's face, highlighting the concern etched into her features and her clenched jaw. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet her gaze, opting instead to stare out of the window as the city blurred past.

When the Uber pulled up outside Leah’s apartment, you braced yourself for the inevitable confrontation. Following your friend inside, you sank into the welcoming embrace of her sofa, feeling the weight of her gaze like a physical pressure.

Leah wasted no time, her voice cutting through the silence with unwavering determination. “Alright, out with it,” she demanded, her tone firm and uncompromising. “You’re not getting any sleep before you tell me what’s going on.”

At first, you scoffed at her blunt approach, your defences rising instinctively as you crossed your arms and stared at the wall. But beneath Leah’s steely exterior, you could sense the genuine concern and care in her words, and a part of you longed to unburden yourself to someone who truly understood. “I don’t know what to tell you, Lee. Nothing’s going on.” You briefly paused before quietly adding, “That’s the problem…”

“This is about Alessia,” Leah stated. Clearly, it didn’t matter how vague and distant you acted; she would always see right through you. “Y/N… that didn’t look like nothing to me.” Her voice was softer now, as she took a seat next to you.

“Well, it was,” you stated, and with a heavy sigh, you relented, the floodgates opening as you poured out anything and everything that had happened between you and Alessia in the past two months and how you felt about it. How you felt about her.

Leah listened intently, her expression softening as she absorbed your words, offering no judgment, only support. As you spoke, if only slightly, you felt a flicker of relief wash over you. And as the tears flowed freely, Leah remained by your side.

When you were done speaking, she held you as you shed a few more tears, until you felt your eyelids grow heavy. “Let’s get you to bed,” Leah softly stated as she took you to her guest bedroom.

The next morning, you woke up feeling a bit groggy but grateful for Leah’s help and care. When you entered the kitchen, she was still nowhere to be seen, so you decided to cook up a nice breakfast to thank her. You knew her kitchen like your own, as you always had to cook for her when you visited, not trusting her with it one bit. By the time Leah walked into the kitchen, you noticed her eyeing the food on the table with a mixture of surprise and amusement.

“I made breakfast,” you offered with a chuckle, knowing all too well Leah’s lack of culinary skills. “Figured I’d return the favour. I can’t handle feelings without you, and you won’t have anything to eat without me.”

Leah raised an eyebrow in mock indignation. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to take cooking lessons,” she retorted, grabbing a slice of toast and taking a bite.

You both shared a laugh as you sat down to enjoy the delicious breakfast you had made. You ate in silence, and despite the weight of yesterday’s conversation still lingering in the air, there was a sense of peace and understanding between you.

Eventually, Leah broke the comfortable silence, her tone serious yet gentle. “Listen. I know there’s no way in hell you’re taking my advice on this,” she began, “but just for the record, I think you should tell her how you feel.”

You couldn’t help but shake your head, a sad smile tugging at your lips. “I can’t, Leah,” you admitted, the weight of your words heavy in the air. “She’s happy with Dan, and it wouldn’t be fair to her. Besides, I’d rather be friends than nothing at all.”

Leah sighed, her expression softening with understanding. “I get that, I really do, but you’re torturing yourself by letting things go on like this,” she said, her voice laced with concern.

Leah’s words stuck with you the rest of the day as you replayed the events of last night in your mind. She wasn’t wrong; this was torture for you.

By the end of the day, the solution seemed clear to you: avoid Alessia altogether. Confessing your feelings to her was not an option, and being around her hurt you. So, really, avoiding her was the only sensible thing to do.

The following week, you did everything in your power to make your plan work. You sat opposite to wherever she was in the changing room and in meetings, and left immediately after every training session. You stopped hanging out with teammates altogether, fearing she might join in. When Lotte mentioned she was coming over to your shared apartment, you quickly made up an excuse and left for the rest of the day.

It wasn’t easy, and frankly, it was painful when you felt her trying to reach out to you. She would attempt to start a conversation, and you would suddenly make a beeline for Leah or pretend you didn’t hear her. One time, she even sent you a photo of a new type of chocolate pretzels she had found, which you ignored. When she asked if you wanted to talk, you ignored that too, and it hurt.

Nevertheless, you knew in your heart this was the only way to keep the both of you from getting hurt, and so you persevered. That was until after two more weeks of avoidance, the inevitable finally happened.

Your alarm went off early that morning after not having had much sleep. The night before, Alessia had suddenly shown up at your apartment, stating she was there to meet Lotte. She had asked if you wanted to join them for dinner, and you made up an excuse and left. You didn’t return until much later, when the only light visible through the curtains was the little nightlight in the living room, and you knew the coast was clear. You stirred for a long time before finally falling asleep, having spotted Alessia’s coat and shoes in the hallway and knowing she was lying on the other side of the wall you were staring at.

You didn’t have training until later that day, but you decided on an early alarm so you could escape the apartment before anyone else would wake up. You quickly threw on some joggers and a sweatshirt and kept your morning talk in the mirror short and to the point. You felt a sense of confidence wash over you as you realised you’d managed to prevent yet another encounter with the person you had been avoiding for weeks.

All that confidence left your body in an instant however, when you opened your bedroom door to be met with a pair of widened blue eyes already staring at you. “Hi,” said Alessia, a shy smile on her face.

“Morning,” you said dryly, “you’re up early.” You didn’t really want a conversation with her, but at this point, small talk seemed unavoidable. “I, uh, couldn’t sleep anymore,” she replied. You brushed past her to grab your shoes and sat down on the edge of the sofa to tie the laces.

“Hey, Y/N?” She started hesitantly, causing you to look up at her, dreading whatever she was about to ask you. “Do you want some coffee? I just made some.”

“Oh, no thank you. I was just about to go for a walk actually,” you answered, avoiding her gaze by focusing on your shoelaces again. “Oh right, of course,” she said quietly. The discomfort she felt was clear in the way she moved, the tension in the room palpable. You felt your eyes starting to water as your emotions overwhelmed you. The disappointment written on Alessia’s face, the way your body tensed up with every word she said, and the fact that you still had to fight the urge to kiss her right then and there, it was all too much.

“Enjoy your walk,” she said softly as you disappeared into the hallway. You grabbed your coat and keys and finally left the house.

As you were trying your best to fight the tears now brimming your eyelids from falling down your cheeks until you had at least rounded the corner, you heard a different voice calling your name from behind you: Lotte. And she didn’t sound happy. “What are you doing?” Her tone was like a shout but her volume that of a whisper, given how early it was.

“Taking a morning stroll,” you replied quietly without turning around hoping to leave it at that. “You know that’s not what I meant. I’m talking about Less. She really wants to talk to you but you’ve been avoiding her, ignoring her. I have no idea what’s going on with you but I can tell this is hurting her, and after all she’s done for you—” she stopped abruptly when you turned around to face her and she noticed the tears now rolling down your face. You saw the hesitation in her eyes. Lotte was not an angry person. In fact, this was the angriest you had ever seen her, so you knew you had really messed up. She scanned your face for a little longer before asking, “Can you please just tell me what’s going on?”

“I— I really can’t, I’m sorry.” You felt an immense sense of guilt wash over you. These past few weeks you had hardly given it any thought how your actions were affecting others. You had decided this was the best thing to do for everyone involved, but of course Alessia did not know that and she had had no say in the matter.

“Okay,” Lotte mumbled hesitantly, “okay, but will you at least talk to her later? You can’t avoid her forever, Y/N,” she stated, and you knew she was right. You took a deep breath before accepting your fate and telling her, “Yeah, okay. You’re right.”

You opted to save the talk for after training, giving both of you some time to prepare. Lotte relayed the news to Alessia and assured to spend the night at her boyfriend’s place, granting the two of you some privacy.

You spent your morning trying to figure out how to tell her what was going on, struggling to come up with the right words. The day went by fast and training, albeit awkward and tense, also flew by. Before you knew it, you were back home, bracing for the dreaded conversation.

Alessia seemed unusually uncomfortable, fidgeting with her hands as you walked into the familiar living room in silence. “Tea?” You asked and she nodded as she got settled.

Returning with two cups of tea minutes later, you took a seat on the opposite end of the sofa. You sat in silence, both of you playing with your teabags for a while, contemplating how to initiate the conversation.

Finally, she broke the silence, her voice hesitant. “I, uh, have been wanting to talk about the other night, you know, at the bar” she began, her words coming out slowly and anxiously. Weeks had gone by since that night, but you had not given her a single chance to talk about it since. “I’m really sorry if I made you uncomfortable or crossed any boundaries.”

You waved off her apology with a small smile. “It’s fine,” you reassured her, not really wanting to think or talk about that night anymore, since you knew it was just a drunken mistake to her, and so much more than that to you. “Just... caught me off guard, is all.”

Alessia’s expression softened, like she somehow knew exactly what you meant by that. She took a deep breath before blurting out three words you had never expected to hear her say.

“Dan is gay,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “His parents are... well, they’re really homophobic.” As she spoke, you could see a mixture of pain and embarrassment etched in her features, the weight of her words heavy on her shoulders.

Your confusion must have shown on your face, prompting Alessia to continue, her words tumbling out in a rush. “And, well, my parents were like yours. They kept asking when I’m going to settle down with a boyfriend,”

As Alessia spoke, the pieces started to fall into place, and you listened intently as she unraveled the complex web of her relationship with Dan. “We were really good friends, Dan and I," she explained, “And we get along well, so we came up with this... arrangement.”

She paused, taking a moment to gather her thoughts before continuing. “We decided to pretend to be together,” she admitted, pausing again to finally look at you. “To make everyone around us happy.”

“We just get each other so well, you know?” she added, her voice small. “And we already spent so much time together, so it wasn’t hard to pretend.”

You thought about what she said. Somehow, suddenly everything made sense but at the same time nothing did. After a moment of silence, you finally found the words to break through the heaviness in the air. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?” you asked, your voice gentle yet curious.

Alessia hesitated for a moment before responding, her gaze fixed on the floor. “I was embarrassed, I guess,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “And all I wanted was to focus on my career, so this seemed like an easy way to get everyone to stay off my case too.”

She paused briefly before continuing. “I love the friendship I have with him,” she explained, a hint of sadness in her voice as she looked at you. “And I never really felt the need to be more than friends with anyone anyway, so this has just always felt like it was enough for me. Well, until—” she stopped speaking abruptly, her words trailing off into silence.

“Until what?” you pressed, your curiosity piqued by her sudden pause. But Alessia shook her head, her expression guarded. “Nothing, never mind,” she replied, avoiding your gaze.

The conversation lapsed into silence again, the unanswered question hanging between you like a heavy fog. “Okay… so why are you telling me this now?” you asked, breaking the silence once more, your voice soft.

Alessia shrugged, her eyes flickering up to meet yours. “I don’t know, I guess I felt really bad about lying to you all this time,” she confessed, her voice tinged with regret. “Since we’ve gotten so close. Not many people know. In our team, it’s just Lotte actually. I really value our friendship, Y/N.”

As you sat there, letting everything she had just confessed sink in and trying to make sense of what it all meant, you suddenly noticed how uncomfortable Alessia looked. You quickly scooted over to her side of the sofa, prompting her to look up at you.

Reaching out, you placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Thank you for telling me, Less,” you said gently, offering her a reassuring smile. “You know you have nothing to be embarrassed about, right? Especially since I did the same thing with you.”

A small laugh escaped her lips, a hint of relief flickering in her eyes. “Guess we’re both experts at this fake relationship thing, huh?” she remarked, the tension in the room easing slightly.

You chuckled softly. “Yeah, now it does make a lot of sense why you came up with the idea in the first place,” you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

Alessia smiled, the embarrassment slowly fading from her features. “Well, it seems to have worked for both of us,” she quipped, her tone lightening.

Taking a sip of her tea, Alessia seemed lost in thought for a moment before meeting your gaze once more. “Thanks, though,” she said sincerely, her eyes softening. “For understanding, and for not judging me.”

You returned her smile with a soft one of your own. “There’s nothing to judge. I think it's really nice of you to do this for Dan,” you added.

Alessia’s smile widened, a touch of warmth in her eyes. “Thanks, Y/N. Means a lot.” She paused, clearly wanting to add something else, her smile fading into a frown. “So… are we okay?” she asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, we’re okay,” you said genuinely. You didn’t exactly know why yet, but somehow you felt a sense of peace about the whole situation after the conversation you had just had.

“Good, I’m glad,” she said, a relieved sigh escaping her lips. “Cause I’ve missed hanging out with you. I was really glad we had become such good friends, and I was afraid I had ruined it all by not being honest.”

“You didn’t,” you reassured her. “I was just a little… confused,” you added, hoping to leave it at that.

She nodded. “Yeah, I get that. I hope this cleared some stuff up then.” She sent you a warm smile. As the conversation wound down, Alessia glanced at the clock, realising the lateness of the hour. “I should probably get going,” she said, rising from the sofa with a small sigh.

You nodded in understanding, standing up as well. “Yeah, no problem,” you replied, walking her to the door. Before she left, Alessia turned to. “Good night,” she whispered with a grateful smile on her face as she pulled you in for a warm hug.

“Good night, Less.”

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #lionesses #lionesses x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #engwnt x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc

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essentiallyleaf · 7 months

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day 12. praise kink. with. choerry.

944 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x female reader, praise kink, pet names, public masturbation, oral sex, squirting, welcome to fluff central.

notes.

just trying something out. a permanent state of being at this point. exploratively, leaf.

It was the first time she tried ice skating, that day. A regular Saturday morning at the mall, wearing layers upon layers just to end up feeling way too hot. As regular as any day spent with Yerim can be. Her favorite part was when she was holding onto the barrier for dear life, but you managed to push her off of it a handful of times. Anytime you did, you helped her precarious balance by guiding her with your hands in hers, or on her waist. That was your favorite part.

“So, how was it? Did you like it?”

“I fell fourteen times, dude! I managed to fall as I was reaching for the cup of coffee you were giving me, and I was standing still! What do you think?” She said while laughing enthusiastically.

She didn’t like it at all, and she had the time of her life.

“I think you did great”

“How about you take me on a real date?”

“A what?”

“You know what they say about Paris…”

“That for each person there’s two rats?”

“That it’s the city of- wait, WHAT?”

She dragged you to a terrace bar in Montmartre, the sun was just setting, blues and oranges meeting on the roofs from the Sacré-Cœur down to the Louvre, giving the city a slightly wistful aura (it was hella expensive, but what isn’t, there? Plus, you’re okay splurging, if it’s for Yerim). It wasn’t sad, it was just cool, and dreamy. It was romantic. A postcard-worthy place to share your first kiss. It wasn’t for your first, but for your fourth that she asked a local to take a picture of it. It felt very awkward, both of you were laughing the whole time.

“Sorry if I taste like alcohol”

She usually doesn’t drink, so she felt really self-conscious about it. You found that endearing. The flavor had a deep cerise, leaning purple tint and resembled some kind of fruit, you couldn’t really pinpoint which.

“You taste like heaven”

You went to the lake together for a weekend trip in April. You convinced her to go on a hike on the first day (“You said there wouldn’t be any scary cliffs!” “Come on, it’s barely even a drop, you can do it! Just take my hand!” “You ugly liar!” “I am only one of those two, and you know which”; she always falls for stupid flirty lines like that), she was so tired at the end of it, so she decided that both of you would spend the next day relaxing. Relaxing ended up meaning hiding behind a large tree near the hotel and raising her cute white long flowery dress to her waist for you to finger her while your tongues met.

“You can stay silent while we do this, right?”

“Uhm…”

“Want a hand?”

“Yes, please…”

You put your other hand on her mouth and started sucking down her clavicle to her cleavage as you picked up the pace. She kept whimpering the whole time and even let a high pitched scream into your palm as she came. In the (very real) event that someone heard her, at least they had the decency to not show that.

“You did amazing, baby”

She really didn’t. Old couples kept looking sideways at the two of you for the rest of the day, and you had the feeling it wasn’t just because you were a lesbian couple in the conservative countryside. But you know she needed to hear that.

She likes putting make-up on even when she’s staying home; she says she finds it fun, at some point both of you silently acknowledged that she also just wants to look good for you. And God, does she look beautiful with that exaggerated orange-pink blush on her cheeks. Or, actually, maybe it was just the wine that gave her face that amazing glow. You couldn’t really tell, you also had your fair share of glasses. You also don’t remember much of what happened before that sexy blush-tinted face found itself between your legs and was hit by a couple of little squirts as Yerim brought you to orgasm only using her tongue. What you do remember, is that all you wanted after that was to reciprocate the favor.

“Thank you, thank you so much, baby,” you panted out. “So good for me, that was so good”

“Hehe~”

The time of her life. This time though, with that slutty make-up, girl cum dripping from her features, it looked lewd.

“Now just lay back on the couch and stay still, honey, you don’t have to do anything else, okay?”

“Okayy~”

“Nice and cozy, just be my good girl and relax, yeah?”

She could only moan back as soon as you started eating her out. You couldn’t just give up on talking altogether though, so you compensated for the lack of oral stimulation with your fingers anytime you detached your lips from her core.

“Are you close, sunshine?”

Her adorable little whiny noises answered for her.

“Then I need you to do one thing for me, hm? Just one thing. I need you to let it go and cum for me, don’t restrain, sweetie”

When she cums, it’s a hurricane. Of spasms, screams, and sprays of transparent liquid coming your way.

“Yes, baby, so good. Let it all out, my baby cherry.” That’s what she tasted like. “My perfect baby cherry. Come here”

You surrounded her in a warm embrace and covered the two of you with her oversized zip-up hoodie. As you kissed her blushed cheek, Yerim looked like she was already asleep.

“You did awesome, cherry girl. You are so perfect”

footnotes.

sorry for bad dialogue. cheesily, leaf.

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woso-dreamzzz · 5 months

Text

Pictures

Amanda Ilestedt x Reader

Summary: Your girlfriend visits you in London

The sun shone through the blinds directly onto Amanda's face, making it look like she was glowing.

She looked like a goddess, lying asleep in your bed with no care in the world.

With her in Paris and you in London, you rarely got to see each other in person. Both of your schedules were packed for most of the year. Amanda was always on the pitch, always with a ball while you always had a camera around your neck, snapping pictures of the men's and women's teams for Arsenal.

Your work kept you separated but on long weekends or national holidays, you were always together. Most of them, it meant that you flew out to Paris where the two of you would hit all the touristy romantic spots before curling up in Amanda's bed and watching a generic rom-com as you traded kisses.

This was one of the rare times she came to London.

It looked good on her, the English weather. She fit in well here, bundled up in scarves and a long coat with a silly hat on her head.

You smiled as she shifted in her sleep, scrunching up her nose as if she could feel the sun on her.

Absentmindedly, you reached back to grab at the camera you kept handy on your bedside table. It was nothing like your professional camera that got placed in its case as soon as you were finished with it (it was also stupidly expensive and you didn't want to buy a new one after spending so much on the one you currently had) and was a polaroid rather than a digital.

You snapped a picture.

Amanda groaned, turning more fully into the pillow as your camera spat out the picture. "It's too early."

Her voice was heavy with sleep and she cracked open her eyes to look at you.

"It's nearly noon," You replied.

"Too early," She said again," Especially, for you to be taking pictures." She reached out for your camera.

You didn't usually let people touch your camera. You were protective over all of them and got antsy when they were in somebody's else's grip.

But, with Amanda, you didn't mind.

You let her fiddle with it for a bit as you picked up the polaroid you had snapped and inspected it.

You smiled.

"Is that going on your mirror?" Amanda asked. She sat up in bed and nestled closer to you, pulling it down to properly look.

You glanced at your mirror. Everyone who was anyone in your life ended up as a polaroid along the edges of your mirror. Your mother. Your father. Your first family pet. The Arsenal girls were on there as were many of your friends.

But the most pictures on your mirror belonged to your girlfriend.

Very few people got more than one solo shot of themselves displayed but Amanda wasn't like everybody else.

She was your girlfriend, the girl you wanted to spend your entire life with.

A new picture of her appeared on your mirror every time you saw her.

Candids littered the border.

Amanda on a walk, at dinner, lazing around on the sofa. It didn't matter what she was doing, you would take a picture of her doing the most mundane of things if she let you.

"Where else would you go?" You teased, stretching and rising from bed. You slipped this picture between one of her sunbathing on the beach and one of you kissing her cheek with fireworks in the background.

"Well...I was hoping here."

You turned around, frowning. "What do you mean? You're already here."

"No." She shook her head and approached you, her hands finding home on your waist. "I mean permanently."

"I...I don't understand."

"Arsenal made me an offer," Amanda said.

"Arsenal made you an offer," You said, smiling as you reached up to cradle her cheeks, closing the distance between you both with your lips. "Are you going to take it?"

"I am."

#woso x reader #amanda ilestedt x reader #amanda ilestedt #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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enam3l · 1 year

Text

dirty thirty (@funsonmunson-again's mafia eddie x reader)

funsonmunson-again's birthday week writing challenge / prompt #24: saving the best for last haha, but birthday spankings with any of the eddies!

happy birthday evie!! thank you for reviving the timeline with your amazing fics. it's eddie's birthday too and he's in trouble...

CW: very much 18+, pure smut, bdsm, use of guns, truly the most depraved thing i've ever written.

For his 30th birthday, Eddie Munson has nearly just taken a shot to the head... but in your defence, he really fucking deserved it.

Slowly - albeit on wobbly feet - Eddie, Gareth, Jeff and Freak turn around to face you, eyes still wide from seeing the bullet fly past their boss's shoulder. They're stood in a line like naughty school boys in your garden, caught doing something they shouldn't be. Which is exactly what's happened.

You stand in front of the glass doors that lead onto the patio, curtains billowing and light glowing behind you. Flanked by four growling dogs. The light from the house reveals the curves of your body under the sheer babydoll lingerie you're wearing. But no one is looking at the small number, they're cowering at the pistol in your hands and the infuriated look on your face.

'Get inside, now,' you snarl, the dogs' snapping in agreement with you.

At the stroke of midnight, by some miracle of god, the unimaginable happened and Eddie Munson reached thirty years of age. Each year of his life since he hit ten, felt like a bonus. He was sure he'd never see twenty and absolutely certain he'd never meet thirty but here he was. He'd been surprised you let him go out with the guys that night but you insisted.

'Let loose with the boys, then I can have you all to myself in the day,' you'd smirked, clearly hiding something.

The four men left the house at 8pm, promising to be back by 2am at the latest. Yet, by the fourth shot of tequila, that promise was long forgotten as well as Eddie's suspicions that you'd been planning something.

Which you had. Throughout your four years together, it had been near impossible to surprise Eddie. Firstly, his line of business meant he liked to know everything that was going on. Surprises equalled the opportunity for danger. Secondly, you shared your finances - although, in all honesty, his finances, but he enforced a what's mine is yours policy. So, it was hard to splash on something for him, without him noticing when the bills came or his accountant alerting him. But for his thirtieth, you devised enough was enough.

After hearing him murmur to himself so many times about his disbelief he had survived this long. Not only had he survived, but now, with you by his side, he was living. Your man deserved for once to be surprised and spoilt. To reign in a new decade of life together in the best way possible.

Therefore, for the past year you had been plotting. With the help of Eddie's accountant and the boys, you'd secretly been putting money aside. Slicing off a chunk of any 'shopping trip' money, he gave you, and putting into a secret account. The accountants making investments on your behalf throughout the year that also went into the account.

Now, you had a hefty chunk of cash that was being spent on the most devastatingly romantic holiday to France that money can buy. A long glamorous weekend in Paris, followed by a week hiding away together on a private beach in Monaco. The flight was booked for Eddie's birthday, that's why you'd let the boys take him out - so you could pack without getting rumbled. But nothing is ever so simple with a Munson.

At 1am, with still no Eddie, you'd become impatient.

By 2am, you were irritated.

By 3am, you were furious.

By 4am, you were terrified that something awful had happened.

At 4:15am you thought those fears were confirmed as you heard gunfire from the gardens.

Not even thinking how you were dressed in an entirely unsuitable birthday present for Eddie, your instincts kicked in. Taking the pistol out the bedside table and with your precious pups quick on your heels, you ran down the stairs. Brain screaming with all the awful possibilities of what could've happened. No matter how long you've been together, the fear over Eddie's job never truly leaves. You burst through the patio doors and fire a warning shot... and then you see the culprits.

Eddie and the boys, lined up, their own pistols in hand. Before them were (once) law ornaments which they had clearly lined up and started target practice on. Now they were looking at you, the tiny remaining sober part of their brains were doing some explaining. Maybe coming home late and doing target practice whilst you were oblivious and gone alone, wasn't a great idea.

With big blinking eyes, like Bambi in front of headlights, Eddie begins to stumble on his words.

'K-k-kitten, hi... I'm s-sorr-'

'Shut the fuck up,' you snapped harshly. The rest of the guys immediately looked down at the ground.

'Edward, get inside NOW. The rest of you, leave.'

Immediately, the four grown men begin to wobble and scramble. The three that weren't your fiancée, babbling,

'We're so sorry Y/N... we didn't mean to... we lost track of...'

'I don't care. Go, before you're limping as well as swaying and this time it'll be because I've shot you in the fucking leg.'

In a flash, they were gone. You glowered at your now shattered flamingos in the distance before turning to look at Eddie. He was tripping over the entrance to the house when you finally looked him in the eye.

'Baby... I really sorry,' he whispered.

'I don't think you are,' you said coolly, 'go to the bedroom. Now.'

Eddie didn't hesitate, he quickened his stumbling pace. As you locked the doors, you could see him gripping onto Lucifer for stability. Then using Zeus as well once he attempted the stairs. You could hear him unsubtly whispering to them as he climbed the marble steps.

'I've never seen your Mom this mad before.'

It's true, he hadn't and he was petrified. More terrified than he had ever been in a sticky situation during work, he had far more to lose with you. Good job Munson, he grumbles to himself, not even five hours into 30 and you've fucking blown it.

When you finally come up to the bedroom, Eddie is sat on the edge of the bed, throbbing head in his hands. Now he's not stumbling around, he can finally look at you. The pretty sheer dress you're wearing in his favourite colours, pretty bows and ruffles and microscopic matching panties. Your hair is swept up how he likes as well. Everything you've done, as ever, is for him. He feels awful and not because he's drank the best part of a bottle of tequila and a whiskey more expensive than several of his rings.

'You look really beautiful, kitten,' he whispers, big eyes now wet.

But your eyes are still filled with anger.

'How could you, Eddie!' You shout, 'you scared the shit out of me!'

'I'm sorry, I-' he croaks.

'No!' You snap, taking a kitten heel off and launching it across the room. 'No excuses. I've not finished! Can you imagine if I had done that? Disappeared longer than I said and without contact? Then you heard random shooting outside?'

Eddie's blood ran cold at the thought and knuckles white as he gripped the sheets beneath him. If he was in your shoes, a search party would be out and he'd be sick with worry.

'That's what I thought,' you mutter as you see the look on his face. 'You wouldn't let me ever leave without an escort again.'

It's true, he'd never let you leave his side.

'I thought you were...' your facade and your voice finally cracks, 'I've never been so scared in my life!'

Irritated that your mask has slipped, you stomp forward to Eddie. With all the anger in your body, you shove your lean fiancée, causing him to fall backwards on the bed. Eddie stays lying there, not wanting to look up and catch you sniffling. He doesn't want to make it worse. His heart cracks hearing what he's done to you, especially on what is supposed to be a happy day. Especially when you'd clearly planned something for his return.

He clears his throat, wanting to ensure he gets his words out perfectly.

'Kitten, I know. You never would've done this to me. I'm so sorry. What can I do? How do I fix it?'

There's only silence for a little while but he keeps his eyes trained to the white ceiling. Then, he feels your hand hovering on his knee.

'Turn over,' you say firmly but quietly.

Eddie lets out a confused mumble but does as he's told. Right now, if you told him to eat his own shoes, he would. Then, he feels you take an ankle, lifting it so you can begin to take off his boot. Once it's off, he kicks off the other himself. He gulps then, truly unwitting over your plans. Your hands now tug at the waist of his slacks, nails scratching at his back. In attempt to aid you, he raises his hips and undoes his belt and buttons, allowing you to slide them off.

He hears the sound of his eyelashes flutter against the duvet as he blinks, anxiously. Are you just getting him ready for bed? He would like to just go to sleep in your arms right now. Whisper he's sorry and he loves you until you both fall asleep. But that's not what is going to happen.

No, that's definitely not going to happen, Eddie realises suddenly. As before he can even process, you've quickly tugged down his underwear, and have cracked down your palm against his ass cheek. Eddie gasps.

'You're going to feel how angry I am, Eddie,' you say so calmly that a trail of goosebumps prickle down his spine.

'I'm going to do to you, what you would've done to me in this situation... and you're going to take it.'

Crack. You hit his cheek again.

'Do you understand?'

'Yes, kitten,' he barely whispers. He's scared, confused and aroused. Never, ever, have you done this to him before but he doesn't dare protest.

'Good,' your palm soothes over the attacked cheek. It's barely blushing, your own hand nothing in comparison to Eddie's own sprawling ones. He widens his legs so you can stand further between them. He knows right now, he just needs to let you do what you need to do.

Crack. Crack. Eddie gasps. Crack. The fear, surprise and arousal mixed together is intoxicating. His heart is in his throat and his palms are sweating. Each smack, full of raw emotion, sends a zap through his body.

'That's five, Eddie... I'm going to do thirty.'

Eddie's eyes widen.

'If you're going to act like this, at your age now, then I'm going to give you a present deserving of it. So, twenty five to go.'

He's not sure he can last that long in silence, without crying out your name or moaning or worse, popping a boner whilst you're angry. Then, he feels a dip on the bed alongside him. For the first time since you shoved him, he dares to steal a glance at you. Your eyes are dark and looking back at him.

'You should probably sit across my knee. It'll make this easier for everyone,' your voice is unwavering. This new stern side to you is equal parts unnerving and sexy.

Eddie scrambles to his feet quickly and stands before you. You look him up and down, infuriatingly, he looks so good. You'd thought that when he left the house and you couldn't wait to throw yourself at him upon his return. But he ruined it. Now he's just there, a sheepish look on his face, shirt still on but his cock out. You had planned to ride it until you both collapsed, but now plans have been spoilt.

'Take your shirt off and get over my knee,' you sigh. Your voice sounds so uninterested, it makes Eddie's heart pang. He wants to get on his hands and knees and beg for your attention and forgiveness. Desperate to smother you in kisses.

However, he does as he's told. A shiver rippling through him as he rids himself of the shirt. Anxiously, he walks to the side of you and clambers onto the bed and then spreads himself over your lap. He wiggles, following your guidance to get his lap perfectly across your thighs.

'Baby, is this right? Do you need to me to move more?' Eddie asks, desperate to please you.

'S'fine,' you say casually.

But there's nothing casual about the gasp that escapes him as your fingers trail down his back. Small circles drawn into the dimples above his ass. Then one hand trails down to the top of his thigh and rests, whilst another stays on his asscheek. There's nothing for a moment and Eddie feels his heart racing and the anticipation. Until, he feels your soft lips place a peck on the one cheek you'd struck. It gives him butterflies knowing you still want to give him gentle loves.

'That's nice... thank you, baby,' his voice sounds smaller than ever before.

'S'okay, Eds. I'm gonna go again now, okay?'

He nods. Your hand smooths over the untouched cheek, stealing a squeeze.

'This one needs to catch up, hmm?' You coo. Oh god, he thinks, you're playing with him now. Like a cat with a mouse.

Five sharp, consecutive slaps, crack down against the porcelain skin. Each jolting Eddie and causing him to gasp. You squint, wondering if part of him actually enjoys this. So you test the theory.

'Nineteen,' you say.

Then, the hand smacks down, harder than ever before. Hard enough that he knows there's a mark.

'Eighteen!'

This one even harder, your hand clearly coming down from quite a distance. The jolt from the force causes his cock to flop between the gap of your thighs.

'Seventeen! Sixteen!'

Smack. Smack. Both as hard as the last. There's no denying it hurts, but it's also good. Eddie feels good that you're punishing him for scaring you. It satisfies the shame he feels and his body knows it because his cock springs to life. Rock hard now between your soft thighs.

'You're fucking hard?' You scoff, turning the cheeks on his face, not just his ass, bright red. 'Do you not understand that I'm angry? This isn't for your pleasure! Fifteen!'

'Oh fuck,' Eddie cries. Fifteen was the hardest yet and it pushed his body down, causing your thighs to tug at his cock.

'You're sick, Eddie. Getting off on this...' you rake your nails down his back now, causing more moans from him.

'Do you like it? Facing the consequences of your actions for once, baby?' You snarl. Your hands have now reached the base of his neck and tug at some hair there.

'Yes, yes,' he wines. He can't stop himself, he thrusts into your thighs some more. Fucking himself between your plush skin. You're genuinely shocked.

'Oh my god... you really are getting off on this, hmm? Engaged and I'm still learning new things about you. My dirty boy, hmm. Ready for more?'

Panting from thrusting at your thighs, Eddie nods.

'Okay, you asked for it...'

Fourteen. Thirteen. Twelve. Eleven. Ten. Each one is quick, sharp and alternates between each cheek. Eddie snaps his hips, jerking his throbbing cock off in time with your hits. Your own panties are soaked at seeing your big, scary, mafia boss, so desperate and pathetic.

Eddie whelps something you don't make out. You pinch the skin of his hip and ask him to repeat.

'The belt, the belt,' he cries, 'god, please use the fucking belt!'

Your face scrunches up, wondering if he really just said what you think. But before you can process, you feel him shift. His arm stretches out down to the floor. Your questions are answered when he thrusts the belt he had holding his slacks up, behind his back and into your hands.

Oh, you gasp internally, he really fucking wants this bad.

Tauntingly, you brush the smooth leather across his skin.

'You feel that bad, huh? Understand just how angry I am, Edward?'

'Yes, kitten, please...' he cries, 'please show me.'

At first you hesitate, not wanting to do some serious damage. Folding the belt in half, you bring down the looped end against his bright pink cheek. Nine. The sound is heavier than any your palm could make but you know the sensation is even harsher.

Eddie groans in frustration and shakes his head. He wants it worse.

You tighten your grip and bring it down harder. Eight. Instantly there's lines imprinted on his skin from the edges of the belt. But it's clear that's what he wanted, as his hips thrust ferociously and you feel precum trickling down your calf.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Eddie is crying your name, fists white knuckling the bed linen. His skin has transformed from magenta to blooms of purple.

'Just five more and then it's the big 3-0, okay?'

He's barely paying attention, so lost in the high, continuously fucking himself in your thighs. You take the belt to the other cheek now.

Four. A warning spank. You lean down and press a kiss each cheek. This is it.

'Say'

Three.

'You're'

Two.

'Fucking'

One.

'Sorry!'

Eddie's cock spurts his load all down your legs as he cries.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry kitten, I'm so fucking sorry!'

His body trembles on you at the aftershock of such intense touch. Another load of cum squirts out. He sobs real tears, you can tell, into the sheets.

'Kitten. I'm sorry, m'sorry, love you s'much,' he whimpers.

You let both your hands soothingly rub his back and thighs and you lean down to presses kisses to his ass. Perfect porcelain now splattered in purples and pinks.

'I know, Eds. It's why it upset me so much. You're never reckless like that... I wanted you home. Was supposed to be perfect when you got home...'

Eddie can hear that the anger is gone and now there's just a soft sadness in your voice. Ignoring the ache in his backside, he crawls off you, sliding onto the floor. Slotting himself between your thighs as he rests on his knees. Capturing your hands, he kisses them.

'Let me make it up to you, sweetheart,' he pleads. Big brown eyes, red from tears and begging. Letting go of your hands, Eddie takes your knees and pushes them further apart. He reveals his cum still dripping from you thighs. Leaning in, eyes still looks at you, he kitten licks his own spend up.

'You shouldn't have let me cum,' he mumbled against the velvety skin at the apex of your thighs.

'Should've forced me to make you cum, over and over and over... so that's what I'm gonna do.'

You just nod and let Eddie take over. He tugs your soaked panties off.

'These were so cute, kitten. I didn't deserve them,' he sucks at the wet crotch, 'daddy was so bad but now daddy will make it up to you. I promise.'

With that, Eddie dives into your folds. Lapping up the wetness that's been gathering like he had his own cum. That alone makes you sigh, so much of the tension leaving your body. Bringing your thighs over his shoulder, he buried his face further to access to your clit. Latching onto it the moment he finds it. Sucking until you squirm.

'That's it,' he sighs, his voice happy now, 'going to make my girl feel better.' He punctuates each word with a soft kiss to your bud.

It's all parts feral and tender and causes your tense body to flop back onto the bed. Eddie is shortly quick to chase you. With your thighs round his neck, he guides you to lie back against the pillows so he can completely lie down and lose himself in your cunt.

Now his body is fully relaxed, he makes out with your pussy. Going from sucking your clit to lapping at your hole.

'That's so good, Eds,' you coo, hand twisting curls round your fingers. Now, Eddie knows he's on his way to forgiveness.

Forcing your legs a little further, he goes in for the kill. Using the move he knows always makes you crumble. He sucks both his thumbs, letting one come up to toy with your clit and the other drops to press against your tight asshole.

The concentration alone sobers Eddie up. He hears you gasp and cry his name as the thumbs circle each pleasure point. Then he lets his tongue fuck into your hole unrelentingly. Faster. Faster. Your thighs are squirming but Eddie won't stop until you get the release you deserve. The wiggling results into his thumb popping into your asshole causing your hips to jerk and your hand to rip at his hair.

'Jesus fuck, Eddie,' you sob, tears erupting at the overwhelming sensation.

Eddie plunges his tongue as far as he can, along with his thumb in your ass and then tears aren't the only thing erupting. Your little cunt spasms, squirt soaking his tongue and face. Your whole body left trembling as you gasp. Eddie doesn't let on that it causes him to cum against the bedsheets where he'd be gently rubbing himself against.

Wiping his face and licking his fingers clean, Eddie smiles at your fucked out frame.

'That is the best birthday present you can ever get me, kitten.'

Leaving you to catch your breath, he gets up and waddles over to the light switch. His sore cheeks definitely limiting his movements more than the alcohol ever did. The bedside lamp keeps the room in a soft glow as he turns the main light off.

Slowly, he climbs under the covers and into bed next to you.

'Is it... is it okay if I hold you now, Y/N?' Eddie's voice is soft but nerve filled. You turn and look at him, chocolate eyes full of worry still. Nodding, you shuffle under the duvet and into his waiting arms. Lying in a way that you can both look at each other.

'I love you and I'm sorry. I can't imagine how scared you must've been. We got carried away,' he sighs, stroking fallen strands out of your face. Leaning forward, you press a soft kiss to his chewed lips. He melts into you instantly, soul settling to be fully reunited with yours.

'Just... don't do something like that again or I won't let you make it to thirty,' you smile against his lips.

Eddie pulls back and looks at you, wide eyed in shock. 'You see us being 60 together?'

His response makes your brow furrow.

'Yes? Obviously, you silly boy? Eds... I'm marrying you in just a couple of months.' You laugh, pressing another few kisses to his lips. When you look back, his cheeks are flushed like his backside.

'Doesn't seem real still. Don't know how I made it this long, but you wanting to marry me? S'the most unbelievable part...'

You shake your head.

'Best get believing. You're about to experience a week long love fest...'

Eddie cocks his head in confusion and you lean up to peck his cute round nose.

'I think we'll have to bring your ruined ass a cushion though for the journey... filthy boy,' you chuckle causing Eddie to groan and bite his lip.

But your words must finally hit him. Releasing you from his hold, he now waves his arms maddeningly in confusion.

'What the hell, what's going on, woman!'

You chuckle to yourself, knowing you're finally about to pull off a surprise on him. Even at 30, the love of your life, Eddie Munson, still doesn't know how spectacular he is. But it's okay, you've got the rest of your lives to show him.

did you enjoy that? i bet you did, you sick fucks x

#funsonsbdaygame #mafia!eddie munson #mafia!eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #Eddie munson x female reader #enam3ls rockstar eddie

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daisyblog · 11 months

Text

Love at Wembley

Our Story Masterlist Summary: Harry asks YN to marry him at Wembley.

In the last twelve years, Harry had learnt a lot about YN. He’d learnt that she still needs a cup of tea before bed to fall asleep, or she’s up until the early morning tossing and turning.

He knows she still blasts One Directions and all their solo songs at every opportunity she gets, singing all the words and nagging both Harry and Louis about when they were going to get back together.

Her favourite song to listen to when she’s having a sad day or when she misses her Mum and sister even more is Angels by Robbie Williams.

Louis was her rock, they don’t go a day without talking or at-least texting each other. She doted on him and vice verse and Harry often feared how much she told Louis about their relationship, because if YN was anything shy didn’t cover it.

On the subject of not being shy, their sex life had only grown and got better as they aged. Harry had learnt that her favourite position was between doggy-style or missionary with Harry’s hand around her neck in a loose hold.

Another thing that Harry had learnt was that YN disliked anything that was romantically cringey, like being proposed to in Paris. Her words being “It’s just not special, everyone gets proposed to there” whilst watching a Tik Tok of a couple getting engaged whilst standing near the Eiffel Tower. Harry made a mental note of never proposing in a popular engagement location.

This brings him to this moment where he is walking through London with Louis and Jeff on his way to choose a ring for YN. He’s known for the last twelve years he wanted to marry her. But with fame, touring and losing important people, it never seemed like the right time to pop the question.

As they walk into the store that Harry has been researching for what feels like years. They’re met with more options than they imagined. He thinks back to the day he asked Louis permission to marry YN, because if he wanted anyone’s blessing it was his.

---

They were visiting Doncaster one weekend for the twins birthday and after the busy day of celebrating the twins turning nineteen, with lots of food, family, friends, Louis and Harry had found themselves sitting out in the garden together.

As Louis took a drag from the white stick he held between his fingers, Harry breaks the silence “I..uh…I wanna ask you something”.

Louis tilts his head to look at him and blows the smoke out from his lungs and flicks some ash off his cigarette end before responding “You can ask me anything mate”

Harry nervously turned his rings on his fingers, Louis hadn’t seen him this nervous for a long time. “I wanna ask YN to marry me…and…I guess what I’m trying to ask is for your permission”.

Louis took another long drag from the white stick, before blowing the smoke out in front of him and then scratching his cheek with his thumb and tried his best to keep a serious expression. Harry still anxiously twisting the rings that sat on his fingers.

Letting out a sigh, “All I can say is…it’s about fookin’ time man”, causing both men to look at each other and let out a laugh. “No ‘onestly you have my permission, blessing and whatever else you need”.

---

Bringing Harry back to the moment of where the three men sat in a consultation room, looking at the few options they had chosen. Louis had already said which one he thought YN would love. Jeff stating that YN would say ‘yes’ even if Harry proposed with a Haribo ring.

Harry stared down at the ring that sat delicately in the box in front of him. The small band held a diamond on top with a touch of green. He didn’t understand why Louis would be so adamant that YN would love this one.

“I still don’t understand why you think this is the one” Harry spoke with a tad of stress in his voice, picking up the box that held the ring to study it more.

Louis and Jeff shared a look before Louis let out an annoyed sigh. “Mate…please just listen to me…Lottie literally sent me all the photos of engagement rings that YN has sent to her of the last few years…and guess what they’ve all had a touch of green in them”.

Harry nervously played with his bottom lip with his fingers “Why green..I just don’t kno-“

Interrupting him, Jeff intervened “H..when you look in the mirror..what do you see?”

Harry look at his manager and friend with a scowl, confused by the questions.

“Uh myself” Harry sarcastically replied.

“And what do you look at yourself with?” Louis prompted.

Harry took a moment to think, before he had a lightbulb moment “Uhh..my eyes”. Louis and Jeff stared at him waiting for the moment where it clicked. “My eyes are green”.

“Well done Mate…you got there in the fookin’ end” Louis sarcastically said, earning a nudge from Harry. Harry couldn’t wipe the grin off his face at the new fact he had learnt. YN wanted a green ring to represent the colour of his eyes. How romantic. “She’s romantic and soppy when she wants to be”.

---

Harry wanted the moment to be special but with the last leg of the tour underway it was proving to be difficult. He wanted the moment to be just YN and him, but being on tour it was rare for them to have a moment to themselves.

He debated popping the question whilst he had a show in Coventry, as it was the first show in the UK but something was telling him it just wasn't the right moment. He considered asking her in Paris, but then remembered she hated the thought of it being in a popular location. He began to believe there was no right place, but being inside Wembley Stadium made him realise that this is where it all began for him. If he didn't go to an audition, he wouldn't have met the love of his life.

Anne, Des and Gemma had arrived along with Harry's auntie, uncle and cousins. They all knew Harry had planned to ask YN today, ahead of the show, but the suspence was eating at them.

There was a quiet spell before the opening acts took to the stage. Harry took this as his opportunity "Babe...will you come with me to the stage a second?". Anne and Gemma sent him an excited grin as Teddy was cuddled up on Gemma's lap, knowing this was the moment they had been waiting for, for the last twelve years.

YN followed Harry out to the hallway as they made their way to the stage, Harry's arms slung over her shoulder and the little box discreetly hidden in his short pockets.

As the walked out and took in the empty stadium, before the room was about to be filled, Harry stood behind YN, his arms wrapped around her front resting across her collarbones.

"I'm so proud of you Bubs" YN began as she leaned back into his hold "Four nights in Wembley..you've absolutely fookin' smashed it"

Harry leaned down a pressed a kiss to her cheek "It all started here for me..and to be back just feels so fucking incredible".

"It's crazy to think that if you and Louis didn't audition that year...we wouldn't even know eachother" YN thought out loud, her hands reaching up to hold onto Harry's that were still wrapped around her "Fook...I don't even want to think about that". YN reached in her pocket for her phone "Let's take a photo..I wanna remember this moment".

After YN snapped the selfie of her and Harry, she studied the photo for a second, before turning to show Harry. As she turned, she realised Harry was no longer standing behind her, but knelt down on one knee with a black box in his hand, holding the little ring that was about to be on her finger. Capturing the moment, Lloyd was hiding behind one of the black boxes, positioned to the side of the stage.

For once, YN stood still and speechless. Harry began the speech he had rehearsed in his head for the last few weeks.

"YN..baby..it's been twelve years since I made you mine and my life has never been better...I would love to let you know all the reasons why I love you...I love you because you make me laugh when I needed it most...I love you because you inspire me to be a better person...I love you because you are extremely patient with me during my lowest points...I love you because you are an amazing sister who loves and takes care of your family...I love you because I know you’ll also be a great mother to our children someday...I love you because you have dreams and you’re not afraid to go after it...I love you because you dare to be yourself and own who you are...I love you because of how the light shines each morning together...I love you because of how comfortable silence can be, with you...and most importantly, I love you so much that I’ll want to be with you forever and I hope you’ll say yes. Will you marry me baby?"

Tears flowed down YN's face, Harry had always made her feel loved and wanted but listening to him list all the things he loves about her, was overwhelming. YN leant down and held Harry's cheeks as she kissed him deeply. Lips moving together, YN mumbled "Yes".

Standing up, Harry took the ring from the box and placed it on YN's finger, both admiring the start of their commitment to each other. "You're gonna be Mrs Styles".

"And I can't fookin' wait" YN excitedly announced, before Harry cupped her face and brought her in for another kiss. Their lips together in sync, YN's top lip being squeezed between Harry's as he deepened the kiss and moving his hand to sit at the bottom of her back to pull her even closer.

Pulling apart, but their hands still attached to one another, they couldn't wipe the smiles from their faces. "I love you"

"I love you more...Mrs Styles to be"

liked by louist91, thephoebetomlinson, and 2,543,224 others

yntomlinson and harrystyles Mr and Mrs Styles to be👰🏻‍♀️🤵🏻 View all 15,677 comments

annetwist Congratulations my Darlings ❤️ I can now officially call you my daughter-in-law xx

jefezoff Congratulations Lovebirds!

mitchrowland Congrats guys!

gemmastyles I've finally got a sister 💕 Congratulations to my faves xx

niallhoran Finally!! Will I be bridesmaid or groomsman?😂

louist91 12 years too late!! Happy for you both xx

lottietomlinson I can't wait for the wedding prep! Love you both 🫶🏼🖤

the.daisytomlinson my sis is getting married 🤍

thephoebetomlinson omg! Sooooo excited😆

lloyddddddddddddddddd Congratulations! So glad I got to capture the moment.

pillowpersonpp The dream couple! Congratulations both

bradgouldtraining Yessss! Absolutely buzzing for you both ✌🏼

madidiaz Cuties! Congratulations both❤️

Tag List: (let me know if you would like to be added) @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats @harrysbbyh0ney fanfictioncafe lilfreakjez jerseygirlinca iamahallucinationnn @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @indierockgirrl @hittiesontour @or-was-it-just-a-dream

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hardly-an-escape · 10 months

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it's warm, the skin I'm living in

Square: D5 - Enthusiastic Consentacles Rating: E Word Count: 2432 Ship(s): Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling Warnings: No archive warnings apply Additional Tags: established relationship, shapeshifting, Dream of the Endless can have a vulva when he wants, oral sex, tentacle sex, body worship, anal fingering, lots of emotional conversations, Hob Gadling is a good boyfriend, they really are just disgustingly in love with each other Summary: Hob realizes Dream is being a little… extra creative when it comes to their love life. When he asks his boyfriend what’s going on, some of Dream’s deep-seated fears are revealed. One part fun shapeshifting sex, one part Dream being incredibly insecure, one part immortals being disgustingly in love with each other. Read on AO3 | fill for @dreamlingbingo

“I want to touch every part of you at once,” Dream whispered one night, their legs entwined as Hob dozed off, humming approvingly. The next morning, while Dream was scientifically taking him apart at the seams, Hob gradually realized that there were eight hands roaming his body.

The revelation that Dream can assume almost literally any form, shaping and changing his own body and image at whim, had been… surprising.

But not unwelcome.

“So… when you say anything…” Hob trailed off.

“I do mean anything.”

It started small. Dream made himself a few inches taller than Hob, or a few inches shorter. His hair changed length (Hob spent a pleasant afternoon in the Dreaming reliving their meeting in 1789 and putting Dream’s hair ribbon to very good use). His cock, too, grew in length and girth at… opportune moments.

Sometimes, Hob looked at Dream and his lover’s eyes were glittering with stars.

Things escalated.

One anchored in his hair, tilting his chin back to make room for Dream’s lips at his throat. One pinning his hands above his head. One tracing the line of his clavicle and one pushing cool fingers into the heat of his mouth. Two pressing his hips mercilessly into the mattress as he writhed under the ministrations of one hand on his cock and the last cupping his balls.

There may have even been more than eight hands, at the end there. Hob thought at least three fingers had been in his arse and he could swear none of the other hands had moved… though he may have lost track. That had been a nice morning.

Once they spent a long and memorable holiday weekend in Paris, with Dream in the form of a woman the whole time. God, he’d looked so beautiful: all sweeping elegance and curves, soft and smooth under Hob’s hands and on his arm. Heads had literally turned as they strolled down the Champs-Élysées, dallying in front of shop windows. They’d wined and dined and fulfilled every romantic cliché that the City of Lights had to offer.

Dream had tasted beautiful, too. Hob had laid him out like a feast on their hotel bed and spent selfish hours with his face buried in the sweet cleft between his legs, delving and licking and sucking to his heart’s content, emerging only to roam and sample the rest of Dream’s gentle and yielding body, so unlike his normal form.

Even the noises he made were different, softer and sweeter. Typically a quiet lover, it was as if the change of his shape necessitated a change of response, too. The moans and mewls and sighs and cries – Hob drank them up as eagerly as he did the wetness of Dream’s cunt.

It wasn’t until they were home that Hob got the sense that something was… off. They’d showered off the grime of travel and were curled up in their own bed together, suitcases kicked into a corner to be dealt with in the morning, and Hob sighed contentedly and cuddled Dream just a little bit closer.

“That was incredibly lovely,” he said, “but you know, I think the loveliest part of going away somewhere is coming home after.”

“Do you really think so?” Dream asked. He sounded skeptical.

“Of course,” Hob said. “Don’t you?”

“I assume that humans are constantly seeking novelty, rather than defaulting to the familiar.”

“Well, but I’m asking you.”

Dream didn’t answer, and Hob had turned the remark over in his head for a long while before finally falling asleep.

After that brief conversation, Hob had paid closer attention to Dream’s appearance, especially when they made love. After a few weeks’ worth of observation, he was surprised to discover that it was, in fact, incredibly rare that his lover’s body took the same form in any two given encounters; that Dream, somewhat disturbingly, seemed to be actually going out of his way to provide Hob with something new every time they came together.

The penny truly dropped one lazy Sunday morning, when Hob had coaxed Dream into the shower despite assurances that the Endless did not become dirty, and therefore did not require bathing, unless they specifically desired to.

(“That’s not the point of this kind of shower.”

“Then what is?”

“Well, I need someone to wash my back, you know.”

“You successfully clean yourself alone nearly every weekday morning.”

“That’s not the point either, darling.”)

Eventually, though, he had Dream where he wanted him: under the shower, with miles of soft, pale skin glowing slightly pink from the hot water while Hob kissed his neck and luxuriously worked a palmful of richly-scented body wash into the muscles of his back and down toward his buttocks.

Until he felt the unmistakable sensation of a tentacle creeping up his inner thigh.

“Ah ah, love,” he said, gently swatting it away. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh no? I believe I begin to understand the point of this kind of shower,” Dream murmured. Hob felt a second tentacle coiling around one knee while a third seemed to be heading for the cleft of his arse.

“This was supposed to be just a normal sexy shower,” he said helplessly, turning toward Dream and pulling him into a kiss.

Not even ten minutes later he was on his knees in the bathtub, heedless of the cooling spray of water behind him, as Dream’s inhumanly flexible appendages curled around his cock and plunged inside him, driving him to the brink of orgasm and beyond as he sobbed with pleasure.

Later, after they’d actually cleaned up and dried off and Hob had resisted the urge to crawl back into bed and fall into a fucked-out doze, they’d settled on the couch with tea and toast and Hob had tried to figure out how to ask his lover if what he thought was going on was actually going on.

“Dream, love. I have a question for you,” he finally said tentatively. “There’s no wrong answer, but I want you to have a think and really consider before you say anything.”

“Of course,” Dream said, gazing at Hob over the edge of his mug.

“Do you… do you really think that you have to keep things new all the time? In bed, I mean,” Hob said. “Do you think that I’m going to get bored, or something? Because I’ve noticed that you seem to, er, up the ante? Quite frequently? And I guess I’m just wondering… well, why. And whether I’ve done or said something that made you think you… needed to do that?”

“Have I displeased you?” Dream asked with a trace of a frown.

“Not even remotely,” Hob hastened to reassure him. “Dearest, I don’t think it’s even possible for you to displease me, I am so utterly bonkers head-over-heels for you. It’s just –” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “This spring, when we got back from Paris. You made that comment about humans ‘constantly seeking novelty.’ And this morning, you know, I really was just thinking about a quick soapy handjob in the shower, but you seemed dead set on… escalating?”

“Surely, it is in my own best interest to stoke the ardor of my lover. As thoroughly as possible,” Dream said stiffly.

“That’s not in question,” Hob said gently. “I suppose you could say I’m wondering about the, the method. Of the stoking. And the variety. And the reasoning behind it. Am I making sense at all?”

“You are being perfectly clear.” Dream placed his mug on the coffee table and stood. “I have been. Overly exuberant. In my attentions toward you. I will attempt to curtail my intensity in the future. Thank you for telling me.”

Hob sighed. Dream was carefully not quite looking him in the eye.

“I think you know that’s not really what I’m saying, love,” he said. “But if you’re not feeling up to talking about it now, that’s okay. I can wait until you’re ready.”

Dream nodded, still stiff. When he kissed Hob goodbye, it felt slightly too formal. Almost perfunctory.

His lover disappeared in the usual swirl of sand, and Hob sighed again and sipped his tea. He no longer worried overmuch when Dream got in a mood and needed space; it almost always meant that he thought he’d done something wrong and was feeling self-conscious about it. They would talk it out, when he was ready.

Sure enough, a few days later Hob went to bed and opened his eyes to find himself in Dream’s chamber, high up in his castle in the Dreaming.

Its sovereign was standing on the balcony overlooking a beautifully overgrown courtyard garden, wearing a long diaphanous robe that billowed around him, though there was no breeze. The air was heavy and humid; it wasn’t raining, but there was a feeling in the air as though it might start at any moment.

“Hello, love,” Hob said.

“Good evening, beloved.”

Hob stepped out on the balcony and pressed himself against Dream’s back, wrapping his arms around the narrow waist and nuzzling into the dent between his shoulder blades.

“Feeling ready to chat?” he murmured.

“Yes. But first. I would like to tell you that I am sorry. I was short-tempered, earlier. And I wilfully misunderstood what you were trying to ask me. I am sorry,” Dream repeated, and Hob tightened his hug.

Dream always sounded different in the Dreaming, but his deep voice – somehow richer and more resonant – was fond and contrite.

“Already forgiven. Nothing to forgive, really. I understood.” Hob kissed Dream’s shoulder through the sheer fabric of his robes. “Do you think you can talk, now? About what I was asking about?”

“Yes. Come, sit with me.”

Dream led Hob to the bed, where they sat cross-legged, facing one another.

“You were right that I… have felt the need to keep things new. To keep your interest and your heart,” Dream began. “I wanted you to be excited about me. And to remain so. I have told you but little of my past loves, I know. They are few, but one theme has loomed large in my mind: that their downfall, when it came, was of my own making. That my reticence – or my selfishness – led to the loss of that which I held dear. I fear, more than anything, Hob, that I could yet lose you, too. I have already come dangerously close.”

“If it reassures you at all,” Hob said softly, “I literally can’t think of anything you could do that would drive you away. Not now, not that I know what it’s like to be with you. To be yours.”

“It comforts me to hear you say it,” Dream said.

“So, the shapeshifting… all the incredibly creative sex… it was because you were worried I might get bored of you and leave?”

There was a beat before Dream answered.

“Yes,” he finally said reluctantly.

“Okay. That’s a lot. But first of all,” Hob said, “it’s… actually very sweet of you, in a weird way. I’m glad you want me to stick around.” He leaned in and kissed Dream, just a soft, quick press of their lips. “Second of all, I do understand why you’d worry about humans needing novelty all the time, but honestly, I promise that’s not the case with me. I’d been very happy with regular-degular human sex for centuries before I got my hands on you, and –”

“I would prefer not to think about the lovers you had before,” Dream said archly.

“Down, boy,” Hob grinned. “The point is, as much as I appreciate the creativity – and I do, baby, trust me – I don’t need it. And sometimes it really is nice to just have a soapy handjob in the shower.”

Dream snorted. It was the dearest, loveliest sound Hob had ever heard.

“I love you,” he said, leaning in to kiss Dream properly, nipping at his bottom lip. “You’re it for me. And I will happily spend the next several centuries working to convince you of that fact.”

“You are about to awaken,” Dream rumbled. “But I will join you soon in the Waking. So that you may begin your work properly.”

When Hob opened his eyes again, he was in his own bed, and Dream was kneeling on the quilt beside him. He was, Hob was thrilled to see, still clad in the clinging robes he was accustomed to wear in the Dreaming, but which did not usually accompany him into the waking world.

“Good morning, love,” he said muzzily, rolling over and reaching for Dream, trailing his fingers down from hip to knee. “God, but you’re a gorgeous sight to wake up to.”

“I hope you intend to do more than look,” Dream said with a smile.

Hob slipped his fingers under the edge of the robe and pushed it up the length of a long, lean thigh. “Oh, darling. You know I do.”

It was utter delight to lay Dream back against the pillows. To pull his sheer robes aside and kiss the miles of soft skin underneath. To stroke and caress until his rosebud of a mouth was open and panting in pleasure, and his sex was hard and wanting against his leg.

“Hob – I want –” he gasped.

“I know what you want.” Hob mouthed up his ribs and along the sharp line of his collarbone. “You’ll get it, love. You’ll get everything you want. But first I want you to listen.”

And he proceeded to tell Dream exactly how much he loved his body, this body; how he’d wanted Dream since he first beheld him, and how his wanting had only grown deeper and wider with every moment, every touch, and every kiss. He told Dream how good his body felt under him, over him, in him; how good he made Hob feel every time they came together. Hob proclaimed the perfection of Dream’s eyes, his lips, his long clever fingers; admired the softness of his throat and the strength of his limbs. He lavished praise and kisses on every inch of his body, until Dream was trembling beneath him and tears stood in his eyes and turned them to ice-blue crystals.

Only then did he take his prick in hand; only then did he kiss along its length to where it already wept copiously at the tip. Only then did he slick his fingers and sink them into the perfect, welcoming heat of Dream’s body.

Dream arched his back and cried out as he came, and it was the most beautiful thing Hob had ever seen.

It always was.

Read on AO3 >>>

tagging @five-and-dimes, who kindly expressed interest in this ficlet many months ago when I posted a snippet. I finally finished it and thought you might like to know :)

green = complete, orange = WIP

#someday I am going to stop posting barely edited shit at 2:00 AM (she lied unconvincingly)#dreamling bingo #dreamling #the sandman #dream of the endless #hob gadling #my writing

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helpinghanikan · 5 months

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Domestic December: COD

Day 16: Ghost, Camping

DD Masterlist

There’s zero chance of having a basic romantic get away with Ghost. He doesn’t find places with a lot of foot traffic all that relaxing. So, forget Paris or Hawaii. Maybe he’ll agree to New York for a show but not if you’re spending more than a night.

It’s the more out of the way places that he prefers. This is specifically referring to camping, but not just any camping. The real kind of camping where you carry in your own stuff and won’t have service for the whole weekend.

Whether it’s your dream or nightmare, Ghost loves it.

Maybe a mile or two into the woods he’ll lose his face covering. He’ll do it Audrey while a few steps ahead of you. As if his mask wasn’t nearly as important as you both knew it was.

That’s when your trip can really start.

Every now and then you take a glance at his face. Looking away just as quickly, as if he might disappear under the mask again. Like respectful strangers you set up camp in silence. The drive in was long, and the hike was longer. By the time you got the tent up, and Ghost had the fire going, the stars were starting to peek out.

“It’s meal prep tonight, tomorrow I’ll get us something real.” He explains while cooking over your fire.

Whatever the food was you were undoubtably going to drown it in butter and pepper. Ghost wasn’t cruel enough to make you eat military rations, but he was mean enough to have it ready just in case.

As with most things you let him come to you. Handing over a plate and taking a seat right next to you. The night was cold, but the fire and your man’s body heat kept the chill away.

“I’ll be gone before you wake up. Be back a little after sunrise but I’m not going far.” He explains as if his hunting wasn’t a tradition on these trips.

Supposedly Ghost used to hunt big game like wolves and bears. Considering his career it wasn’t a stretch but hunting animals that were close to being endangered seemed almost stupid. Especially if it were just to come off as sounding tough.

That being said he did come back every morning with rabbits or some kind of fowl. He’d probably bring in a deer if you let him.

“When you get back we should go to the lake. I brought my swimsuit, and yours.” You add, leaning into his warmth. Plate forgotten and wanting something more than just a basic meal. “As if we need them?” He says, arm around your shoulders and squeezing you tight.

#reader insert #domestic december #x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #fluff #domestic fluff

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pamelasmuse · 1 year

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🌹Paris🌹

Pairings: dbf!Sirius x Lupin!fem! Reader

Summary: you call Sirius while he’s at work and ask him about your future

Warnings: FLUFF!! Illusions to smut. Nicknames like baby, sweetheart etc. A-lot of fluff let me know if i missed anything.

A/n: this is my first fic so be patient with me loves❤️

Sirius sits in his office chair shifting uncomfortably. He looks at the photo to his right, a photo he took when you two went on a weekend getaway. You somehow talked to your parents into letting you spend a weekend with your “friends” in london but in all reality you spent the whole weekend with sirius beacuse conveniently had a work conference thats what he told your dad.

Sirius picked up his phone and dialed your home phone number. You answered sweetly,

“Hello?”

“Hello, Princess” Sirius spoke

You smiled and turned on your side kicking you feet in the air.

“Whats going on?” You questioned

Sirius usually didn’t call this late at night so you knew something was wrong.

He sighed into the phone

“Just a long day full of meetings and horrible people.”

You nodded along even though he couldn’t see you

“It just got me thinking…” he trailed off

You sat up leaning against your headboard

“Thinking about what?”

“About you” he said quickly “about you and wishing there was some way i could have you all the time, in front of people.”

Something inside you fluttered he never spoke about you like this but than realization came to you about the people he was talking about

“Like my dad?” You quietly whispered

A sadness grew over you. You loved Sirius and you wanted to be with him in the same way free of judgment.

“What if we went another trip?” He asked

You smiled into the phone

“Mmm” your mind raced thinking about you and Sirius somewhere far away somewhere no one knew you, somewhere you could kiss him in public.

“Where would you want to go, Sweetheart?”

You thought about his question. You wanted it to be romantic and you wanted it to be far enough from your dad but close enough it wouldn’t cost a fortune

“What about Paris?”

Sirus relaxed in his chair leaning back as he also mused the idea. The idea of you and him being normal like a couple without sneaking around.

“ I think that is a wonderful idea, baby”

You moved around in your bed

“Sirius?”

“Yes” he cooed

“I miss you”

He smiled at your words

“I know baby… i miss you to” He wasn’t usually one to be this soft with you but he needed something different he needed you and he needed you now before he did something reckless like confess his overwhelming love for you in front of your dad, his best friend, just so then you wouldn’t have to sneak around

“Why dont you come by after school tomorrow, we can plan our trip and maybe something else.. if you’re good.”

You felt your self blush

“Okay”…. “I love you” you whispered

“I love you too, goodnight”

Sirius hung up the phone. He went on his computer and booked two tickets to paris❤️

#sirius black #remus lupin #harry potter #sirius black smut #sirius black fluff #sirius black fic #lana del rey #lana del rey fic #paris #sirus black x reader #dbf!Sirius black

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every-aj-needs-an-angel · 10 months

Text

Part 7 of Vegas AU!! It's so long but I'm so excited for you all to meet Charlie!! This is my first ever OC character I hope I did them justice 🤞 and apologies for being late it's Neil Gaiman's fault. I did have my weekend of editing planned out until he ripped out my heart and stomped on it so I spent last weekend as a burrito instead, sorry.

Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 -- Part 4 -- Part 5 -- Part 6

Eddie insisted they drop the car off at the hotel and walk to the parlour instead. Not that Steve minded, Eddie had assured them it wasn't far and although the streets were busy, the night air was cool and with Eddie by his side everything seemed kinda magical; almost like anything was possible.

Robin was already back to her usual self, chattering away with Chrissy. He couldn't hear what they were talking about precisely, but it was happy chatter filled with gasps and laughter, so he figured it wasn't for him to worry about. Chris was more than refreshed from her nap and seemed pretty relaxed again as she practically dragged Robin giddily down the sidewalk, fingers entwined and arms swinging adorably.

Steve couldn't help but smile at them, and Eddie seemed equally endeared, grinning fondly as he linked his pinkie with Steve's as they strolled along after their best friends. A street performer was playing a gentle tune on an acoustic guitar, the shop lights were casting a warm glow over the street and the scent of Italian spices were floating out of one of the restaurants as they passed by, all leading to this romantic air that felt more like Paris than Vegas.

The bubble was quickly broken by a group of dudes across the street heading in the opposite direction, whooping and hollering a chorus of "Vegas!" Eddie snorted derisively at the display, making Steve giggle. God, as if I was one of them! The jocks hadn’t seemed to have received the memo to grow the hell up, somehow still stuck in the delusion that because they were someone in high school that the world owed them a favour.

Steve had a feeling Eddie would’ve despised him in high school, and quite right, too. Nothing about Eddie screamed ex-jock, in fact Steve would put money on him being anything but. Not that he was sure what he could've been precisely. A band geek, maybe? Eddie knew a lot about instruments, chatted easily with Robin when she'd brought it up, but hadn't mentioned being in marching band himself.

Steve supposed he could’ve been a nerd, he knew Eddie was crazy smart, he easily kept up with other people even when Steve himself got entirely lost. And Steve could so easily picture it too, Eddie with cropped curls, big glasses and a bow tie. It was an adorable picture, but unlikely. No, Steve swinging closer to him being a theatre kid, especially given his and Chrissy's little display in the desert. Either that or maybe he'd been on the debate team, knowing a lot about everything and impassioned speeches were something they were good at.

He was distracted from his spiralling thoughts when Eddie bumped his shoulder playfully, "Whatcha thinkin' 'bout?" Eddie asked.

Steve glanced over, enjoying the sparkle in his eyes and the gentle smile gracing his face, "Who you were in high school. I'm torn between theatre or debate club?" Steve said softly, because the more he thought about it the more he swung towards theatre, but he hoped he wasn't way off, he didn't want to insult him.

Eddie let out a self-deprecating sigh, his expression shuttering, "Couldn't be more wrong, I'm afraid. I did help with staging a couple times, but I was- uh- well, I wasn't exactly liked in high school," Eddie admitted forlornly.

Steve's internal panic fell quickly from shit I've insulted him to huh? "Really?" Steve asked disbelievingly. Because surely not! Who wouldn't like Eddie?

"Yeah, nah, I was just the school freak. Eddie "The Freak" Munson. That was me for five years," Eddie muttered at the floor, like he was ashamed, like that was anything close to who he was.

Steve felt anger rise up his throat, the urge to protect Eddie putting his shackles up. He desperately wanted to go back to that time and place and make anyone who wanted to call Eddie that say it to his face, make his King Steve persona useful for something, make them apologise and grovel for ever making Eddie feel like he was anything less than the incredible man he was.

Steve stopped in his tracks to breathe through the sudden fury sitting in his chest. Chrissy and Robin were already waiting for them at the end of the street, a few more minutes wouldn't hurt. Eddie had stopped a pace or two away, still staring at the ground, still feeling the pain and humiliation those bastards had put him through for five years. But it was as though the rest of the world had melted away as Steve dragged Eddie to him by the hand, lifting his chin with gentle fingers and cupping his face; feeling simultaneously like he was holding something as exquisite as a butterfly and as substantial as the whole damn world.

"Eddie," Steve spoke softly, waiting for Eddie to look at him instead of over his shoulder, "Baby. That's not who you are! I didn't know you then, but I guarantee that's never been you! You are so much more than those small-minded, dickless, hopeless nobodies could ever even hope to comprehend! You're Eddie Munson! You're amazing!" Steve told him fiercely.

And if Steve wasn't in love before, seeing the adorable shade of crimson Eddie had gone and the bashful smile affixed to his face made Steve want to reach into his chest, pull out his beating heart and place it into Eddie's precious hands.

Their moment was quickly interrupted by his best friend, "Oi! Dingus and Dorkus!" Robin yelled from the corner, drawing both of their attention, "Less romancing, more moving, we haven't got all day!" she called, only half joking.

Eddie’s grin turned mischievous as he grabbed one of Steve's hands that were still dangling in mid-air and pulled him into a run to catch up with the girls, laughing like a little kid the whole way. Robin rolled her eyes as he and Eddie scampered passed them, dashing further down the road and skidding to a halt outside an inconspicuous shopfront; Chrissy and Robin skipping leisurely after them.

The four of them gathered on the pavement outside of Clarke's, it was a pretty indistinct store, only distinguishable from the surrounding shops in that the windows were covered with white film and the name was written calligraphy style, black lettering on a plain white background.

Eddie and Chris shared a look Steve couldn't quite decipher before Eddie took him by the hand and dragged him through the front door. The bell that jingled as they entered had barely finished tinkling before the person behind the counter came flying at them, "Eddieeee!" they exclaimed, throwing themselves into Eddie's open arms.

Steve could only stand there gawking at whoever the hell had just thrown themselves at his husband; trying desperately to push down the irritation he felt prickling his skin as they held Eddie longer than was strictly friendly. It didn’t help that they were gorgeous, tall and slim with an awesome purple mohawk, dressed casually in Converse, daisy dukes and a tie-dye vest that had “they/them” tagged all over it. And it really didn’t help that they were covered in tattoos, not just a few like Eddie, they probably had hundreds, every inch of skin he could see was covered in a multitude of different coloured inks.

Eddie had caught them easily and had wrapped them tightly in his arms, exclaiming, "Charlieeeeeeee! How're you?" he asked, squeezing Charlie tighter.

Steve wasn't jealous, he wasn't. That clawing, gnawing, burning sensation in his chest was just from fast food and a short burst of exercise. Steve tried to avert his eyes as Charlie pulled back, cupping Eddie's jaw in the same way Steve had just done to him not five minutes before, and he felt more than saw Robin reach for his hand, letting her touch soothe him.

"I'm good, I'm good, but how are you?” Charlie asked, tucking a piece of Eddie’s hair behind his ear, “Jeff said I might see you," they added, tilting their head with genuine concern.

And the thing was, Charlie seemed lovely, very compassionate and very concerned. Steve really was trying his hardest not to hate them, but he couldn't help feeling the desire to put himself in between them. To take Charlie's hands off of Eddie because it felt like someone had walked into his house and had started randomly touching his stuff; because Eddie felt like his and as much as he was trying to swallow that feeling down into the depths where it belonged, he could feel his hands unintentionally clenching, squeezing Robin’s hand tightly. He could feel his spine straightening and his shoulders squaring, like he'd come up against a bear instead of someone Eddie knew, and Steve had to consciously roll his shoulders, trying desperately to fight the overreaction.

Eddie didn't say anything in reply, but something on his face must draw Charlie's attention away from Eddie and to the group at large because Charlie let go of Eddie altogether and looked over at the girls, grinning fondly at Chris when he caught her eye. Then Charlie looked over at Steve, eyeing him like a cat, sizing him up before Charlie's smile turned a little lecherous, "Oh, but you got right back on the horse, didn't you?” Charlie said to Eddie approvingly, “Who's this pretty thing?” they asked, coming towards Steve, hands outstretched like a kid in a toy shop about to start picking up all the dolls.

Except Eddie stepped quickly into Steve's space, batting Charlie's hands away, "Hands off my husband, Kohl!" Eddie didn't sound mean per se, but there was a definite warning in his tone. Oh! That's hot!

Charlie baulked, eyes going wide in disbelief, "Your husband?!"

Eddie nodded decisively, "My husband," he confirmed. Charlie's face went through a multitude of expressions before settling on something that looked almost like pride. It seemed to spur Eddie on, he preened and wrapped an arm around Steve's waist, physically pulling him into their conversation, "Stevie, Sweetheart, my cousin, Charlie Clarke. Char, this is my better half, Steve Harrington," Eddie introduced.

Steve’s brain was short-circuiting. Eddie’s cousin, he’d been possessive over his cousin hugging him! God, I’m too tired for this. Luckily for Steve, autopilot took over, his stiff upbringing coming in handy for something as he shook Charlie's hand cordially, but he'd apparently married into a family of huggers because the two cousins laughed as Charlie threw their arms around Steve’s shoulders, squeezing him tight.

It'd been a while since Steve had felt so fucking stupid, in reality he had no right to be possessive over anything Eddie did, they were only technically married after all and just because they were continuing to have fun didn’t mean that he had a right to overreact like that.

Yet at the same time he couldn’t control that buoyant feeling, realising Eddie had chosen to introduce him to his family when he could’ve called Charlie and asked for a recommendation for Robin, or just taken her to any parlour on the strip, but Eddie had chosen to bring them to family. To his cousin who was proud of Eddie, and accepting of the fact that Eddie had got married, hadn’t even asked for details just threw their arms around Steve like he was one of them now. And god did it feel good to be introduced to someone as not only Eddie's husband but his better half. Which given half a chance was a title Steve'd happily wear proudly for the rest of his life.

A vision of them having a reception, Eddie walking him around the room introducing Steve as his husband to all his relatives, Steve doing the same with Eddie, popped unbidden into Steve's mind. Oh, Christ! I absolutely cannot think about that!

Releasing Steve with a genuine smile and patting Eddie affectionately on the cheek, Charlie chortled, "Well, he couldn't be your worse half could he!" they teased.

Eddie rolled his eyes playfully, nudging Steve with his elbow bringing him in on the joke, "Kohl's still bitter about being replaced," he taunted, winking at Steve conspiratorially.

Charlie scoffed, "I think you'll find, I replaced you with Vegas!" they jibed, making Eddie laugh heartily. Feigning pushing Charlie away as they kissed Eddie affectionately on the forehead, before wandering off to wrap Chris in a hug, "Chris! How're you, kitten?"

Chrissy beamed at Charlie, kissing them on the cheek, "I'm good, darling, I'm having the best time!" she told Charlie realising them and tugging Robin closer by the hand, "This is Robin, she'd like something done if you've got the time?" Chrissy asked so sweetly, Steve wondered how anyone could ever say no to her.

Charlie puffed out a breath in mock consideration, "For my favourite girl's girl?" they asked, rubbing their chin and looking Robin up and down, quickly caving from the facade, "I've got all the time in the world," Charlie added, already flipping the sign on the door from Open to Closed, flicking the lock, "Come on out back, tell me everything!" they said as the girls followed Charlie behind the counter through the open door into the backroom; Chrissy chatting away about their day, leaving Steve and Eddie truly alone for the first time since that morning.

Steve suddenly felt nauseous, he wasn’t sure whether it was the butterflies that’d suddenly sprung to life in his stomach or the worry that maybe somehow Eddie had sensed his reaction to Charlie, that maybe he’d be in trouble for being jealous. And the longer the moment lasted the two of them just staring at one another the more unsure Steve became, he wrung his hands, no longer knowing what to do with them.

He wanted to draw Eddie to him, put his hands all over him, like he was desperate just to touch him. And he hadn't ever felt like that, like he couldn't focus, couldn't control himself, like he wanted to be a giant, so he could keep Eddie in his pocket, like he wanted to shrink himself down, so he could live in Eddie's so he would never not be touching him.

His racing thoughts were staring to make him panic, he could feel his breaths getting short and faster but Eddie, his calming, steady Eddie just looked at him so softly like he was thoroughly endeared, pulled Steve into his arms in one swift motion and kissed him so soundly that every thought flitting around his head just floated away until there was nothing but the pressure of Eddie's lips, the smell of fading sunscreen, mixed with cologne and the underlying something that was just Eddie, and the fizzling excited feeling in Steve's sternum he felt every time their lips were locked.

It felt like they spent forever and barely any time at all in each other's embrace before Robin calling their names eventually broke through into Steve's consciousness, making him reluctantly pull away. Not that he could leave the safe little bubble Eddie had created for them right away. Steve had to rest his forehead against Eddie's to keep the connection for a few seconds longer, just to keep him close, to keep breathing him in while he got a hold of enough of his bearings to function. Eddie hummed quietly to himself, softly pecking Steve’s lips once more before taking his hand and leading him into the back room.

Robin snorted when they entered, and he couldn’t exactly blame her. It seemed he’d somehow managed to pull all of Eddie’s hair free of its tie and his lips, although kiss swollen, were pulled tightly into a sunny smile. "When you two are quite finished," Robin chastised with a raised eyebrow. Steve knew she was joking with them, but he couldn’t help the immediate rush of guilt he felt.

This was supposed to be their holiday together, supposed to be her special trip, her special day, yet he was wrapped up in someone he was stupidly desperately in love with and considering the chances of him ever seeing Eddie again as soon as they all went home were pretty slim, he felt terrible that he’d stopped focusing on his best friend.

Eddie didn’t seem too bothered, in fact he seemed more amused than anything, "I'm sorry Bobs, I just can't get enough," he purred, laughing raucously when she mimed gagging, turning back to the book in her lap with a roll of her eyes.

Charlie pressed a drink into their hands with a gentle "here you go" before flopping down next to the girls on the comfortable looking sofa. Robin was flicking through a stack of books filled with drawings, Chrissy pressed tightly to her side, looking over her shoulder. Eddie put his glass down on the coffee table and sat in the lazyboy next to his cousin, effortlessly pulling Steve into his lap, tucking his chin over his shoulder and wrapping his arms around his waist. It’d stopped surprising Steve that Eddie just did things like that, but he was thankful for his dexterity that he’d managed not to spill liquid all over the tiled floor in the process.

Steve placed his glass on his knee, watching Robin flick through the images, wondering what she’d pick. He half expected the cousins to start up a conversation and was trying to give them as much privacy as possible, so they could talk, even if it was only small talk.

Steve didn’t have cousins of his own, but Tommy had had three. They weren’t very close, but that was unsurprising he supposed given they lived on the other side of the country and only really saw each other every couple of years for family get together’s. Steve had been allowed to go to one once when Tommy’s gran had died. It had devastated Tommy, and Steve had only been allowed to be at the funeral to keep Tommy from crying and embarrassing the family. Apparently, 10 was too old to cry when you lost the only adult who'd ever really loved you.

He’d met Tommy’s cousins at the wake, and they were awful. The things they’d said to Tommy were way out of line and whether it was because they were grieving or just because that’s who they were Steve didn’t know; honestly he didn’t care, he was just glad when Tommy never spoke to them again. And he'd always thought that if that was what cousins did to each other, he was glad he'd never had any of his own.

Except neither cousin said anything, they just stared at each other for a while and then Charlie asked, "So, I hear you're from Hawkins?"

Steve pulled his eyes from where they’d glazed over watching the pages of the book flick, to Charlie. It was obviously aimed at him, and although they had asked almost conversationally, there was a fierceness in their eyes and a definite tone. Steve knew the beginnings of a grilling when he heard it, and he was suddenly glad for Eddie's proximity, especially when he wrapped his arms instinctively tighter around his waist.

Max had been the last person to give him the “what are your intentions” talk. It’d hurt mainly because he had thought she'd liked him, and he knew she'd hated Billy, especially after the incident with Lucas. He couldn’t afford to think about that now, if he had any hopes of making this work past this holiday, he had to make a good impression. And that was a thought that only continued to make him more nervous, the thought of fucking this up for good was unbearable, his heart rate kicking up and his mouth going impossibly dry.

He was so nervous he could only nod his affirmation, barely even registering the telltale smell that it wasn't water in his glass as he took a large swig, only realising that it was neat vodka when he choked as it burned down his gullet. Jesus Christ!

Eddie smacked Charlie's shin with the back of his hand while he rubbed soothing circles on Steve's back, "Jesus H Christ! Warn a person, Kohl! You mean bastard!" Eddie chastised, leaning forward to check Steve wasn't dying as he hacked up a lung, tears blurring his vision as he tried to breathe.

Charlie sprang off the couch, "Come now, Bear," they said, quickly crossing the room in two strides, "You know better than anyone that my fathers' were married long before I came along," Charlie quipped, pulling a bottle of water out of one of the cupboards and handing it to Steve with a whispered "Sorry, honey. Are you alright?" joining Eddie in rubbing his back gently, "Plus, I didn't hear you warn him either!" they said to Eddie accusingly.

Eddie sucked in a breath, no doubt ready to retort when Chrissy interrupted, "My darlings, are you fighting? You know how Pa hates it when you fight." Chris spoke softly and sweetly, but something about the way she said it made sure both cousins were quick to back down.

Eddie sighed heavily, back to fussing over Steve as Charlie sat back down on the sofa, making a point to look anywhere but at their cousin. A heavy quiet settled over the group, the only sounds in the room coming from the rustle of turning pages and the quiet music playing on a radio in the corner of the room; Endless Love sounding out of the tiny speaker.

Steve inadvertently caught Eddie's eye as he fretted over him, brushing Steve's hair back away from his forehead and combing his fingers through the hairs at the back of his neck, and the look in his eyes was enough to take Steve's breath away. Eddie was looking at him with such a deep intensity, Steve felt like he was being sucked into a vortex. Becoming almost overwhelming when Eddie started mouthing the lyrics, it felt like Eddie was the one saying the words, like he could possibly mean them and Steve felt it for a second, his own feelings mirrored back at him in Eddie's gaze.

But then Robin accidentally kicked the coffee table, swearing loudly and rubbing her foot, effectively snapping their attention to her and breaking the moment like popping a bubble. Chrissy carefully pushed the table away from Robin with her foot, effectively covering the sound as Steve gulped audibly.

He began purposefully glancing around the room as the song switched to Let's Stay Together, he knew he'd give himself away if he looked back at Eddie. Knew he'd be able to see Steve's true desires if their eyes met and something about Eddie seeing how deep the well of affection Steve felt for him went terrified the living crap out of him. And honestly, he wasn't sure his heart would survive it, if he saw and heard it reflected back from Eddie, and then he never saw him again. Steve knew it'd destroy him, there'd be nothing of him left for Robin to piece back together.

For the first time since hearing Eddie sing in his shower, Steve wished he'd stop when Eddie started crooning the words under his breath into Steve's shoulder where he'd pressed his face against him. Steve felt panic rising back up his throat, constricting his chest, and he knew he needed to focus on something else before he lost it completely.

He'd never been in a tattoo parlour before, it was a brand new experience he could throw all his attention at, and he'd never been more thankful. He had nothing to compare it to, but Clarke's seemed nice, white tiled floors that sparkled just so in the overhead lighting, but he knew a cursory glance wouldn't be enough to hold his attention enough to drag his anxiety back to neutral, so he began counting things trying to quell the emotions filling him and slow his rapidly beating heart.

Ten spotlights in the ceiling, nine bottles of something lined up on the counter against the wall, eight leaves on the potted plant in the corner, seven business cards on the pin board, six framed paintings, five hooks on the key hook by the backdoor, four different coloured painted walls, three workstations with comfortable looking black chairs like what you'd find at the dentist, two magazines on the coffee table and one tattoo artist, watching Steve intently.

Before Charlie had a chance to ask, Steve took in the thousands of photos of different body parts adorned with pretty patterns and colours all over the walls that threw a question blindly into his mind, "Did you do all of these?" he asked gruffly, his throat still not quite recovered, both from choking and the lump that had formed no matter how much he tried not to listen to Eddie, indicating the wall behind Charlie's head with a tilt of his own.

He cleared his throat inconspicuously, knowing he'd hit the jackpot question when Charlie's face split into a manic grin, almost the exact same look Robin had whenever someone asked her about her theories; ecstatically animated with sparkling eyes, like you could see the words being formed behind them.

"Not all, no, but I've done the majority. There's two other artists working here, but I've been here the longest," Charlie told him, glancing proudly around the room, calming Steve somewhat, "Do you have any?" Charlie enquired, giving Steve their undivided attention, clearly genuinely interested in the answer.

Steve shook his head, "Me? No. They're beautiful. I love Eddie's but erm..." and Steve realised he was about to say his parents wouldn't allow it, like they had any control over his life and he was so sick of having thoughts like that. He knew it was way past time he learned that he liked what he liked, and his parents would always be indifferent to it regardless of what he did, there was just no pleasing them. So if he liked tattoos, if having one was what he wanted, that was for him to decide; there was no right or wrong that would suddenly win their affections.

Luckily, Steve was saved from elaborating by Robin’s excited gasp as she pointed to a picture in the book she was flicking through, "That one! That's it! Can I have this one, Charlie?" she asked excitedly, bouncing up and down in her seat like a kid on the way to the seaside.

Steve clambered out of Eddie's lap, so they could all gather around the book, looking down at the page of drawings, "They're adorable, babe!" Chrissy declared joyfully, and she was right; it was a simple design, a little upside-down teardrop with giant eyes, the human depiction of an alien's head, but it was very cute.

Charlie grinned at Robin, "Perfect! You want colour or just as they are?" they asked, getting off the sofa and heading across the room towards one of the stations.

Robin didn't even hesitate, "Just as they are!" she decreed, jumping up and practically dancing around the room.

Somehow, the book had ended up in Chrissy’s lap, who was staring at the little picture with such adoration Steve wondered if you could force something into existence by pure thought alone. Luckily, Robin stopped moving long enough to notice, kneeling in front of Chrissy and looking up at her through her lashes, "Why don't you get one too?" Robin asked coyly.

The look of awe Chrissy was directing at his best friend nearly knocked him off his feet, "Really?" Chrissy asked with heartbreaking disbelief in her voice.

Except Robin panicked and suddenly second-guessed herself, she started backtracking, babbling, "Yeah, I mean, if you want. You don't have to, don't feel like you've got to. I just thought it'd be nice, y'know? And you seemed to like it, you said they were cute, but that doesn't mean you'd want them forever, right? Maybe you could get something different? Maybe we could all get one? Just like a souvenir?"

It'd been a long time since Steve had seen someone look at Robin like that, like she was the miracle Steve knew her to be. Chrissy was misty-eyed, her smile stretched so far across her face, Steve worried it might split in two. She looked like all her dreams had come true, and maybe they had; he knew all he'd wanted growing up was for someone to say yes to something he actually wanted.

"Bobbie!" Steve interrupted gently, nodding his head towards Chrissy, successfully redirecting Robin's attention away from her internal panic. The two girls beamed brightly at one another as Robin knelt up, crowding into Chrissy’s space; Chris nodding tearfully like she’d just accepted a marriage proposal instead of an invitation for a matching tattoo. Steve could stop himself from smiling affectionately at them, "That's a brilliant idea, if it's okay with Charlie?" he asked, turning purposefully away from the girls, giving them a moment of privacy.

Charlie grinned from their station, where they were busy getting set up, "This is my joy, doll, the more, the merrier!" they said affectionately, patting the chair, inviting Robin to come and sit.

“Yes! So we’re all getting one, right?” Robin asked, giving Steve a quick squeeze around the middle as she passed him.

Steve planted a kiss on the top of her head before she let go, “If you’re sure?” he asked, asking with his eyes as well as his mouth as she backed away from him towards Charlie, just to make sure she hadn’t backed herself into a corner, but she seemed pretty certain and who was he to deny her anything after he’d essentially ruined their platonic couples getaway by falling in love.

Chrissy sat with Robin while Charlie worked, holding her hand and talking her through it, even though it took surprisingly less time than Steve assumed it would. The radio in the corner only had time to play a few songs that he barely had time to register as he watched Robin intently, making sure she wasn't in too much pain or panicking, but she was fine, she was happy. When Charlie sat back with a satisfied grin and a questioning eyebrow, Robin looked down at the little alien looking up at her from her finger and grinned even as tears sprung into her eyes, sliding quickly down her cheeks.

It was so unlike her. Steve had always been a total wreck, a good song, a sad movie, he cried but not Robin; she was always the one making fun of him. This was unprecedented, and he didn’t really know what else to do other than to spring up and wrap his arms around her shoulders, pressing his face into her hair even as she insisted she was fine.

Robin put up with his fussing for a whole minute before she was patting his arm and trying to wriggle out of his grasp, “Honestly, dingus. I’m just… so happy. Look,” she said, wiggling her finger at Steve and laughing wetly.

He didn’t really want to leave her side, but Chrissy was trying her best not to crowd into them, even though Steve could tell she wanted to and when Eddie patted the sofa next to him softly, he knew he was right. Knew that from that moment on he wouldn’t always have to be the one to protect Robin. Knew that he’d find it hard to move over and let someone else help when he’d been the one doing it for so long, but that it was something he was going to have to wrap his head around.

He wandered melancholically back to the couch, letting Eddie wrap him in his arms listening to the rumble in his chest as he sang softly along with the songs coming from the radio, watching as Robin slid out of the chair and into Chrissy’s embrace, excitedly showing her her finger and seeing Chrissy mirror her excitement back.

Charlie did a bit of cleaning and tidying while the girls chatted before patting the chair again, and after asking Robin another twenty times if she was sure she wanted them to have matching tattoos, Chrissy sat for hers.

Steve couldn't help but admire her strength because she barely even flinched as Charlie pierced her skin. Robin had tried to be brave, but he’d recognised the signs she was trying not to show, the same signs from when she’d lay in agony on the couch once a month and Steve wouldn’t even need to ask, he’d just get the heat pad and, depending on the weather, either the rocky road ice cream or a hazelnut hot chocolate.

Chrissy didn’t even seem to notice and his admiration for her must shine through because Eddie pressed his face into his jaw, "This isn't her first," he whispered into Steve's ear. And it's not that it surprises him exactly, he just never would've guessed, but maybe having Eddie as a best friend taught her things he's yet to learn.

Steve hummed, pushing Eddie back into the sofa, so he could snuggle into Eddie's side. He felt safe, tucked under Eddie’s chin with his arms securely wrapped around him to feel the pain he was feeling for his younger self. He so wished he'd known the four of them when he was a teenager, wished he'd had the chance to be himself sooner, wished he was as sure of himself as Chrissy was.

Unfortunately, Eddie mistook his clinginess as nervousness, muttering in his ear, "You don't have to get one, if you don't want. I won't either, and then it'll just be a thing for them-"

"It's not that. I want to. I do," Steve interrupted quietly, "It's just... I realised earlier that the only reason I've never done a lot of things I want to do is that I'm still fearful of disappointing my parents, even though they're already disappointed and there won’t be anything I can ever do to change that. I just want to be more like Chrissy, she's living her life for herself, y'know?" he admitted, surprised at how good it felt to let that out.

Eddie nodded solemnly, pulling him closer and bringing one hand up, fingers splayed in the hair at the back of his head, "She wasn't always this way," Eddie muttered, playing absentmindedly with the strands, "It takes practice and good people around you who are ready to really see you and what you want and remind you it's okay to take it. I was as lucky to find her, as you were to find Robin, and we're both luckier still to have found you two," Eddie mumbled, placing a kiss into Steve's hair.

Eddie sighed heavily, "My dad wasn't a good man, but my uncle was. He realised I was in a bad place. Always getting into fights at school, no friends, no family. When my dad first went to prison, my uncle stayed with me at my dads, until I came home from school one day black and blue and on the edge of tears. He cleaned me up and calmed me down, and then he sat with me and asked me what I wanted. Asked me if I could live anywhere in the world, where would I want to live. And when I said I just wanted to live with him, he literally just picked me up and took me to live with his family."

He huffed wistfully, "They cleared out their office, so I could have my own room in their home, even though both Charlie and I said we'd be fine sharing. They made me feel so welcome and honestly, for years, I felt so left out because Charlie called Wayne dad, but I felt like I couldn't even though I wanted to more than anything. And then I met Chris, her stepdad was the one to rescue her, from her mother of all people, but she always called him dad. One day I asked her why, and she said to me, "Moms and dads aren't the people who give you life, they're the ones who raise you, who show up for you and love you no matter what"."

Both Chrissy and Robin were chatting vibrantly with Charlie, so they hadn't heard Eddie’s mumbled story, nor the sob that hiccuped out of Steve's chest, even though he had been trying his hardest to focus on their smiles in order to quell the flood roaring through him. Eddie tightened his grip, rubbing his thumb soothingly along Steve's ribs. His story was as beautiful as Eddie himself, and Steve knew deep down that he was right, that you can't live your life for people who never bothered to love you enough to even be classed as your parents.

Not when he had Hop and Claudia, who actually deserved the titles. They’d been taking care of him in the way his parents should’ve for as long as he could remember. They were the ones who loved him, who showed up for him, who he called when he had a bad day, who he knew he could rely on no matter what, who dropped everything to be at his side whenever he needed them.

He was lucky to have them, Claud was the one who fussed and coddled and cared; icing wounds, forcing him to eat home-cooked meals, doling out endless affection and letting him get away with murder. And Hop, well he’d come into his life on the day he needed a dad the most and honestly Steve wasn’t sure where he’d be if he hadn’t. Not that it had stopped Steve from putting the man through hell. Steve hadn’t wanted to, not really, he was just young and rebellious and angry, and he’d needed an outlet for that.

But Hop saw him and continued to see him, no matter how many times Steve acted out or tried to brush him off. Hop always stood there and took whatever Steve threw at him, calm and steady most of the time and even the times when Steve pushed too hard and Hop stormed off, he always came back. And although he might not have been the best at saying it, or showing it in any of the traditional ways, Steve knew Hop loved him. He was more of a dad than his own had ever been.

Admittedly, Hop was a little miffed when Steve came out, not because Steve was bi but because Steve had hidden the fact that the real reason he had moved to Indy was to be with Billy, to really be with him in a way they couldn't be in Hawkins. Except all Billy did was drag him out to Indy, continue to ignore and neglect him and make Steve feel like it was his fault he was acting that way, when in reality he was just cheating on Steve with just about anything with a pulse.

So yeah, Hop had been a little miffed but only because he hadn't been able to stop his boy from getting his heart broken, hadn't been able to give Billy a shovel talk so genuinely terrifying he wouldn't have dared to treat Steve that way, hadn't been able to do what he did best, which was protect his kids from harm, even if the only harm was heartbreak.

The Billy Incident had led to their agreement, anyone getting past the third date came to dinner with Hop, so they could be sized up and terrified before Steve had the chance to fall too hard and get his heart broken by someone just wanting to mess him around. And thinking about it, Steve was a little scared of what Hop's reaction was going to be when he found out Steve was already in deep; not that he thought Hop would be mad with him, just that he might be disappointed, which somehow seemed worse.

Steve wondered if Eddie's uncle would be equally unimpressed. If Eddie called him dad now. If his uncle knew how much Eddie loved and respected him. Not that he had time to ask because Charlie had finished with Chrissy and the cleaning and was in the process of calling Steve over, until Robin took one look at him, red-eyed and uncurling himself from Eddie's side and dragged him unceremoniously out of the room with an “excuse us” so she could check in with him.

She of course went on a minutes long rant, reminding him he didn't have to do anything he didn't want to, taking no interruptions, so Steve could explain that his being upset had nothing to do with a tattoo. When she did finally let him get a word in edgeways, he only had to say the word parents before she was nodding sagely, she might not understand exactly, but she saw the way his biological parents were with him in comparison to the way Hop and Claud treated him. She had once jokingly asked him if he was too old to be emancipated and adopted, and honestly, Steve kinda wished he wasn't too old for that.

By the time he’d convinced Robin that he was okay, Eddie already had his tattoo done like she'd ordered with a bark at them as she'd marched Steve out. He was sad he’d missed his opportunity to sit by Eddie’s side as the girls had got to, but he could hope he’d get another chance some other time. Steve sheepishly clambered into the chair next to Charlie, feeling excited and nervous all at once.

Everyone's eyes were on him, and he didn't want to be the wuss of the group, but Charlie was great, keeping him distracted with easy conversation, "So, you're from Hawkins, right? Did you go to Hawkins Middle?" It sounded a lot less like the Spanish Inquisition this time, more like curiosity, even if it was oddly specific for someone who grew up a few towns over. Steve happily hummed his affirmation, trying his hardest not to speak, so he wouldn't shout "OW!" like he wanted to, but then Charlie looked up at him, a truly mischievous smile spread across their face, "Taught by Mr Clarke?" they asked, eyes gleaming.

Steve's brows drew together because yeah he was, but how did-? "Oh my god! Your dad is Scott Clarke?" Steve yelled in astonishment as it all fell into place.

"The one and only!" Charlie proclaimed, laughing merrily and bending back over his finger, getting back to work.

And what the actual hell because Steve had grown up hearing stories of Mr Clarke's kids, Eddie and Charlie. Steve had spent a year looking forward to Monday mornings because Scott would be so excited to tell his students all about his weekend and all the weird and wonderful things he and his family had got up to.

Honestly, Steve had always been envious that they spent time doing things together, even if some of the stuff was weird as hell, like deconstructing and rebuilding the TV for fun. And Mr Clarke was the best teacher Steve had ever had, he was so caring and supportive and obliging, and had the patience of a saint, for those few middle school years all Steve wished for for Christmas was for his parents to be more like him.

Then, when Steve had become the kids' official babysitter, he'd really got to know Scott and he'd talk so proudly about his son's band, always inviting Steve to concerts, but heavy metal wasn't cool enough for King Steve and when he'd started up with Billy, he'd declared it lame, so Steve never went. But to think that maybe if he'd gone, he might have met Eddie all those years ago and neither of them would've had to suffer heartbreak and terrible partners.

Steve was broken from his musings by Charlie announcing "ta-da" and when he looked down, there was a little alien staring cutely back up at him. A souvenir. A reminder. An unspoken bond. Something they shared that'd outlive all of them. He'd never been happier with anything in his life.

The first words out of his mouth weren't the "thank you" he'd intended, but "Corroded Coffin" which snapped everyone's attention from Charlie's work to Steve.

"What did you say?" Chrissy asked breathlessly.

Steve shrugged, "Corroded Coffin. Scott, Mr Clarke, he talked endlessly about camping trips and hiking trails and a garage filled with, what I always imagined being absolute chaos, but knowing the way he kept his classroom was probably as neat as a pin. And then years later, I babysat kids in his AV club, and we'd chat, he told me about his kids band, Corroded Coffin," he admitted, refraining from imitating their dad.

"He talked about us?" Charlie asked, looking a little misty-eyed over at Eddie, who looked a little tearful himself.

Steve smiled wistfully at the memory, "All the time! We all knew stories about you two. The time you got stuck up a tree was a particular favourite," Steve informed them, making Chrissy cackle and Eddie and Charlie look varying degrees of offended.

"We weren't stuck!" Eddie yelled indignantly.

Steve couldn't help the giggle that crawled up his throat, "No? So Scott didn't have to call the fire brigade?" he asked faux innocently, sending the girls into hysterics.

Charlie found the funny side when Eddie blushed deeply, "Actually, I got down by myself eventually, Eddie was the one clinging to the trunk, wailing," they added, Chrissy flopping onto the couch, so she could roll around laughing.

Steve couldn't help feeling endeared by Eddie's pout as he muttered under his breath that it was Charlie's fault they were up the tree in the first place. Steve pulled him to him by his belt loop wrapping his arm around his waist and resting his head against his stomach and mumbling "You're so cute!" Eddie brushing his fingers through Steve's hair.

When Charlie had finished giggling, they called them all over so the four of them could put their matching fingers next to one another on the counter, Charlie using a Polaroid camera to snap a photograph for the wall. Charlie then proceeded to wrap up their tattooed fingers to keep them safe, giving Steve and Robin detailed instructions on how to care for their new tattoo.

They unfortunately didn't get to stay with Charlie much longer, they'd gone back to the sofa to chat some more when two of Charlie's colleagues, Tee and Bee, arrived. They were surprised to find the parlour so full on a random Wednesday night, but they were excited to meet Charlie's big brother.

Except after two more vodkas, Eddie decided when he heard You're The First, The Last, My Everything coming through the radio speaker, it was time to serenade Steve again, which after three vodkas Steve was absolutely fine with; Charlie on the other hand was just embarrassed to be the sibling of someone who considered "that" dancing.

They were promptly shooed out of the backroom and after a round of hugs and kisses, with many promises to see each other again soon, the two couples took a tipsy stroll back to their hotel, hollering loudly into the night.

my beautiful tag list @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @adhdsummer @nerdfighteratheart @anaibis @hbyrde36 @dolphincliffs @marinarasarah @deadflowercollector @lunabookworm @a-couchpotato @wonderland-girl143-blog @ddharrington @abstractnaturaldisaster @lololol-1234 feel free to lmk if you want removing 💖

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Part 8

#a massive 7000+ words #i'm so sorry #if you're still following this you're an angel but you also know i suck so i don't really need to keep saying it #steddie vegas au #steddie au #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #oc charlie clarke #background buckingham #background clarkson #platonic stobin #platonic hellcheer #steve's pov #aj writes

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