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suguann · 12 days

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tags. fem!reader, boss/employee relationship, stupidly domestic, little wife kink in there somewhere, nanny reader, single dad gojo, breeding kink [18+ only]

You sometimes find yourself wistfully imagining having a family of your own—a soft and sweet little bundle to cuddle and someone strong and capable (competent) at your side. But you can’t think of the last time you’ve been on a date where that person had the same interest in something more serious than casually sleeping around.

Nannying seemed like the natural conclusion, especially when you’re still settling in a new city and barely scraping by for rent and student loans for a degree you don’t use.

You pick up a few jobs just to get a feel for it: parents going away for a honeymoon, a last-minute call-in, a weekend business trip. Then a friend of a friend says she makes enough to afford one of those picturesque apartments that overlook tall high-rises and iridescent lights, the very ones you’ve dog-eared in real-estate magazines.

All it takes are a few phone calls and an interview until you’re packing up your apartment and taking the freeway outside of the city to somewhere remote and expensive, your car looking almost out of place parked beside the shiny new one in the long driveway.

You rap on the front door before you lose your nerve, and a few moments later, it opens, and you’re unsure who looks more out of place: this man with a smile too big, dressed for work, immaculate suit dampened by the baby rag slung over his shoulder and what looks like drool on his crisp collar, or you in your scuffed shoes and second-hand store clothes, standing in front of the nicest house you’ve ever seen.

“The nanny?”

“Yes,” you mutter, licking your lips. “That’s me.”

“Good, Ren just woke up from his nap,” he says, opening the door a little wider with a creak. The darkness behind him is almost comforting.

You take a deep breath and pass over the threshold into his home.

The entire time, his hand stays on the small of your back to steer you toward the nursery, and a shiver threatens up the length of your spine.

Three months. That’s how long it takes before your employer poses a problem.

It’s not that he’s a terrible boss; in fact, he’s quite the opposite. He lets you take over one of the many spare rooms in his massive house, pays you double the regular rate, and gives you time off when you ask for it.

It also helps that Ren is cute, only a year old, and still so sweet and tiny.

Perfect.

The problem lies in that you know what he sounds like first thing in the morning, that he knows how you like your coffee, that he helps you fold laundry in the living room while the baby naps, how you catch him staring anytime you hold his son—his expression shuttered, a foreign thing that you can’t read. It’s all so terribly domestic.

Terrible in that you think it’s a horrible idea to develop a crush on your boss, that you can’t help but get flustered anytime he so much as looks your way, even if it’s fleeting. How a sleepy smile before he retires to his room for the night can turn your thoughts into a scattered, ill-defined mess of what they used to be until all that’s left are words like spun sugar melting on your tongue.

But also, it’s not normal, at least not from your experience.

You were lucky in the past if your employer even wanted to know about their kid’s day. Barely saying hello once they walk through the front door before sending money to your bank account.

Satoru—because that’s what he asked you to call him one afternoon while you were in the middle of feeding Ren mashed banana, a lazy smile curling the edges of his lips after you say it for the first time—wants to know everything: what Ren ate, if he laughed, how your day was, if you finally got your hands on that book you’ve been meaning to buy.

“You don’t have to ask about my day,” you tell him shyly, accepting the glass of wine he proffers you after spending the past hour trying to put a teething baby to bed. “To make me feel better, that is.”

“Would it be so bad if I said I want to? You live here, too.”

You try to separate the two: that he cares as your employer and not for any other reason, and how you sometimes catch the soft look in his eye whenever he looks at you could make you believe otherwise.

Cool fingers cup your chin gently, thumb caressing the top of your cheek, now close enough that you catch a few of the warm notes of his cologne, a move that’s probably very inappropriate between a boss and an employee.

“I never say anything I don’t mean.”

You swallow, nodding, slightly shaky, breath caught in your chest. “Okay.”

“Good girl.” He retreats to his office before witnessing how those two words knock the wind out of you.

He starts saying things like our shopping list, our car—because he gave you the keys to the SUV parked beside his car and hasn’t touched it since; for you and the baby, he said, plus it’s terrible on gas when I drive it to work—our house, our baby. You don’t think he means to do it; it's more of an easy slip in conversation.

But then, one morning, he’s rushing around the kitchen, hair still damp and smelling like his shampoo, as he grabs his coffee and briefcase from the counter, kissing Ren’s forehead first…and then yours.

You’re half convinced that you imagined it—that his lips hadn’t stayed there for a second longer than necessary—until he straightens his tie and heads out for the day with a ‘be good’ tossed over his shoulder, and you’re left wondering if he meant to say that to you or Ren.

It sets off a chain reaction of thoughts whirling away in your head, leaves you wanting and wondering—only ever allowing yourself to fantasize a little when the house is quiet and dark, the baby monitor humming on your nightstand, and images of your boss flit behind closed eyelids as you fit your hand underneath your soft sleep shorts.

In the morning, you worry he can tell what you did, his smile almost too sharp, too something—more teasing than what you’re used to—his hand resting on your lower back as he leans down to kiss Ren’s chubby cheek while you make breakfast.

“I have a meeting this afternoon, so I’ll be late. Want me to pick up some food on the way home?”

No, you think, there’s no way he knows.

You spend most of the morning cleaning and folding the array of graphic onesies Satoru has a penchant for dressing Ren in, and the later half walking around the pool because it’s warm and Ren enjoys splashing around in the water. It’s enough to tucker him out for bed early, unable to keep his eyes open while eating a plate of mashed potatoes.

It’s also the first time in weeks that you have the night to yourself, no baby keeping you busy, no Satoru to—well.

After a long shower, you step out of the bathroom, moving into the hallway. And there are many reasons why you felt confident walking the few steps it took to reach your bedroom. Most revolve around what Satoru told you that morning, so you don’t expect him to be standing there, shirtsleeves rolled up, piercing gaze sliding down the length of you wrapped in a towel and little else.

“I brought home those drunken noodles you like,” he says when his eyes focus back on your face, his whole expression softening into a smile.

A beat. “Thank you,” you whisper, unable to look away.

He tucks the wet strands of hair clinging to your cheek behind your ear. “Why don’t you get dressed, and I’ll join you downstairs?”

The noise in your brain goes static.

You’re unsure what causes it, but everything changes when he comes home early one afternoon and finds you and the baby napping in the nursery. He has this soft look on his face and something else you can’t decipher with his piercing blue eyes settled firmly on you.

Ren coos softly into your shoulder.

When Satoru picks him up and settles him in the crib, then walks you to your room—here, let me help you—and when he hovers in your doorway, you let him in without question.

He doesn’t waste any time peeling off your clothes, eager to have you naked and splayed out underneath him. You cum on his tongue more times than you can count until you’re silently begging him to fuck you.

He laughs, large hands spread over your tummy.

“Use your words, baby. I’m not a mind reader.”

You feel like you’re someone else watching you from somewhere else, another body rocking against the length of your boss’s cock, back arching every time you manage to find the friction you need. He’s hard against your back, thick in a way that makes you wonder if he did enough to stretch you out.

“I-I want—”

All other thoughts are obliterated by the stretch and press of him against your cunt.

“Think I’m going to keep you,” he rasps, lips dragging over your throat. “Keep this drippy little cunt spread open on my desk whenever I want while the baby naps. Would you like that? For me to fuck you full until you give me a baby.”

You clench, nerves shot.

“Gonna get all round with my baby, stay here forever,” he mumbles when he draws away, and you can’t tell if the words are meant for you to hear or slip out without him realizing. “Fuck—breed my little wife until it takes—”

Your eyes roll up, lost in the little promises he paints across your skin, body shivering over and over until you’re sobbing from it until he has to clamp a hand down over your mouth—shh, you’re going to wake the baby—going limp when he finally cums, pressing as deep as your body will allow, as if he can somehow imprint himself there.

Wonders if maybe he’s been building up to this moment all along.

It’s so easy to lay there after, blissed out while he litters kisses across your face and collarbones, letting him lift your hips up to slide a pillow underneath, even though the position is awkward when he tries to cuddle you afterward.

His fingers draw shapes on your stomach, giving you a wistful look, like he can’t believe he’s laying here with his cum still dripping between your thighs—no matter how many times he scoops it up and pushes it back inside you. “Do you think it’ll take?”

And you don’t have the heart to tell him about the little foil packet of pills tucked away in your nightstand.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #.things i write

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the-ark-awaits · 9 months

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i keep thinking too hard about the future and becoming deeply depressed

#i have like 20 dollars to my name #i make 13 70 an hour at a job thats actively ruining my back #i have no health insurance #my car insurance is insane bc im under 25 #i have untreated adhd #im never going to be able to afford to buy a house #and im not gonna be able to afford to rent either bc 200 sq ft is 800 dollars in the nearest city and thts the cheapest available #no ones hiring except the hospital the police and mcdonalds #cant do the first bc im not a nurse wont do the second bc i have ethics and they wouldnt want me cant do the 3rd bc theyre lying about #paying 15 dollars an hour w the fine print saying 'up to'#theres a chance i could get kicked out of where i currently live #and i cant go to college bc i dont know what i wanna do i cant afford loans and i cant even do the work anyways bc of the untreated adhd #my current job is seasonal and ends on nov 6th #im not suicidal anymore but jesus fuck i almost want to be this sucks why do i have to live here just to suffer????

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teapartyprincess4two · 2 months

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Parenthood- C. Sturniolo

pairing: Mom!reader x Dad!Chris

classification: SFW & NSFW head cannons

inspiration: request

warnings: some 18+ content, use of y/n, established relationship, I didn’t name the children but Chris has 2 sons in this 👍🏻

summary: head cannons of Dad!Chris.

Parenthood- M. Sturniolo (Matt’s Version)

—

☆SFW

Fatherhood is something that scared Chris beyond belief, but when you broke the news to him he couldn’t contain his excitement. When your son was born, he fell in love immediately, and you both learned to navigate being parents. Then, when you were blessed with a second son, he was even happier.

☆ Chris cherishes every single memory, he’s really sappy about it all. He has a box full of pictures, baby socks, the wristbands from the hospital, everything.

☆ “Chris, some of this is trash,” you chuckle, filtering through the endless trinkets that all seemed to hold significance to him.

☆ “Our son’s first pair of socks isn’t trash, Y/n!” he snatches the box away from you, carefully placing everything back in.

☆ “Okay, but this dirty napkin?”

☆ “I wiped my tears with that. THANK YOU,” he snatches it from you, his sassy demeanor making you laugh.

☆ Chris loves spoiling his son, whether it be with toys and games, or with summer trips.

☆ He goes all out too, splurging on trips to Disney or to elaborate water parks, making sure to book the hotel and everything.

☆ “Babe, he’s 3. He won’t even remember this,” you chuckle, dragging luggage’s behind you.

☆ “Yes you will. Right, son?” Chris coos, bouncing the baby in his arms and blowing a raspberry into his neck. The baby giggles, the sound being music to Chris’s ears.

☆ The whole week it’s just you and Chris going on all the kiddy rides, snapping pictures of your son, and passing out back at the hotel.

☆ When you find out you’re pregnant with your second son, Chris does everything in his power to make your firstborn’s last months as an only child special.

☆ He takes him to the park, cuddles him to sleep every night, and showers that boy in so much love.

☆ Even though Chris is extremely high energy, being a working dad of two is very tiring.

☆ So, when the kids get older, he starts feeling comfortable taking ‘dad naps’ in random spots around the house.

☆ “Chris, babe, can you help me in here really quick?” you’re balancing a fussy baby on your hip, the other hand stirring whatever’s on the stove.

☆ You peer your head outside to see Chris knocked out on the hanging lounge chair. His chin rests on his chest, mouth open and arms crossed as small snores fall past his lips.

☆ Your oldest son holds a long piece of grass, tickling Chris’s nose with it. Your son whispers eerily,“Wake up daaaad. Wake uppppp.” You can’t help but giggle at the sight.

☆ Chris has successfully managed to cement his legacy as the ‘cool dad,’ or at least he thinks he has.

☆ He loves wearing funky graphic t-shirts when he’s chaperoning the kids, “I was young once too. I was the shit back then, kid.”

☆ Your oldest son just rolls his eyes playfully, but in reality he really looks up to Chris.

☆ Your youngest son loves dressing up like his dad, wearing his oversized t-shirts and beanies so big they fall past his eyes.

☆ “Look mom, I look like daddy!” he exclaims, accidentally tripping on the shirt as he runs towards you.

☆ Other times, Chris will throw on some sunglasses and try acting mysterious.

☆ The mysterious act doesn’t last long though, especially not when your youngest son cuddles up next to him for his afternoon nap or when your oldest starts asking for snack money.

☆ At family parties, Chris goes all out. He’s buying a bouncy house, cooking the burgers, renting an ice cream truck, and inviting all of his family.

☆ He loves playing games with his kids, usually forming teams and challenging them, “Alright me and Matt verses you two. Losers have to jump into the pool with their clothes on.”

☆ “Okay, but uncle Nick has to be on our team,” your oldest replies, fully confident in his ability to win his dad.

☆ Nick is then recruited, and surprisingly isn’t needed because your sons are completely obliterating Chris’s team.

☆ Chris isn’t a sore loser, it’s a trait he never wants to subconsciously pass down to his kids, so he’s jumping into the pool fully clothed as his kids watch in a fit of giggles.

☆ Laundry day is easily Chris’s most hated day, especially with two messy children.

☆ He’ll ‘help’ you fold clothes, which really means that he’s toying with the same shirt and flicking through Netflix.

☆ When the kids are asleep, you and Chris will treat yourself to some takeout because that’s the only time you can order food that the kids don’t usually like.

☆ You two are like little rats, hiding in the pantry munching before the kids hear you and wake up.

☆ One small creak and you’re both frantically hiding the food. “THEY’RE COMING!” he whisper shouts, but when no one opens the door you both fall into a fit of laughter at the dramatics.

☆ As your firstborn son gets older, he starts becoming snappy and somewhat rude, as teenagers often do.

☆ And although Chris doesn’t like reprimanding his kids for the smallest things, he can be stern when it’s necessary.

☆ “Watch your fucking mouth, kid. I don’t want to hear shit like that from you again. Go to bed.” Your son is hanging his head down and trudging to his room.

☆ “Don’t you think you were a little harsh on him?” you whisper, holding onto Chris’s arm gently.

☆ “My kids aren’t gonna be disrespectful, especially not to their momma,” he replies, but when he hears your son sniffling in his room the guilt begins chipping away at him.

☆ It doesn’t take Chris long after that to enter your sons room and engulf him in a hug, scolding him in a much softer manner that informs your son that what he did was still wrong, but also that Chris still loves him.

☆ Baseball, basketball, soccer, lacrosse, hockey, football; your sons are doing it all.

☆ Chris is in the stands, cheering so loud that his voice is hoarse by the end of the game. Even when his kid’s team doesn’t win, he’s still so incredibly proud of their performance.

☆ Chris reps the jerseys, attends the practices, and coaches his sons even when they’re at home, “Widen up your stance then throw!”

☆ Whenever there’s an opportunity to make his boys laugh, Chris is taking it.

☆ He picks them up from school wearing big, fake teeth while playing silly songs on the stereo.

☆ Your sons are never embarrassed, they just hold their sides and laugh uncontrollably, “Dad I’m gonna pee, stop!”

☆ He doesn’t spoil his kids, but he definitely buys them an unnecessary amount of things. It’s mostly harmless stuff like toys, games, and sugary snacks.

☆ “They don’t need any more toys, Chris,” you scold, struggling to make space for all of it.

☆ “We don’t need anything, Y/n,” he replies, his inner child going crazy.

☆NSFW

As parents, it can be hard for you and Chris to make time for each other. Your schedules are packed with school, practices, work, and the few free moments in between are used for household chores. But Chris always makes time for you no matter what.

☆ For the most part, you have to be sneaky. During birthday parties or family events, you take advantage of how distracted your kids are and sneak away into an empty room like teenagers.

☆ Your adrenaline is pumping, clumsy fingers undoing his belt as he kisses you feverishly.

☆ “We have to be quick,” you whisper, watching hungrily as he lines himself up with your entrance.

☆ He doesn’t respond, knees wobbling and his animalistic grunts filling the room as he pumps into you quickly.

☆ Chris doesn’t last long, which is slightly embarrassing, but the times you guys have sex are so few and far between that you can’t blame him.

☆ “Sorry,” he whimpers, pulling out and collapsing next to you. “Don’t be sorry,” you smirk, straddling his hips and getting yourself off as he becomes an overstimulated mess.

☆ On date night Chris books a night at a nearby hotel, dropping the kids off with his parents and telling you to get all dolled up.

☆ He dresses up too, meeting you at the hotel bar and flirting with you like it’s his first time meeting you.

☆ “Hey beautiful, come around here often?”

☆ You play along, the butterflies swarming in your stomach despite sharing an entire life with this man, “I do. Never seen a man as handsome as you here before, though.”

☆ A few champagne glasses later, you’re both giddily walking back to the hotel room and making love under the soft lamp light.

☆ Some random mornings, he wakes up fully bricked and no matter how hard he tries to will the erection away it just won’t subside.

☆ “Y/n, baby, are you awake?” he murmurs, pressing soft, sloppy kisses on your exposed shoulders.

☆ You stir awake, a soft yawn escaping your lips as you reply, “I’m awake.”

☆ He pulls you in closer, his erection pressing against the back of your thigh.

☆ “Need some help there?” you chuckle, immediately understanding his intentions. He hums in response, letting you take over as he watches in a lazy haze.

☆ “So beautiful,” he moans, hands caressing and massaging every inch of your body. You can’t help but blush, hiding yourself in the crook of his neck.

☆ “Look at me,” he instructs, he doesn’t want to miss out on a single thing.

☆ “I’m the luckiest guy in the world,” his lips are latched to yours, an overwhelming feeling of love overtaking him as he blows his load inside of you.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n: meow 😋 dad Chris anyone? 🎤

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

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trikaranos · 4 months

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TRIKARANOS CHAPTER I: S·T·T·L

TRIKARANOS is a dramatized narrative based on ancient events following Crassus (and Pompey and Caesar) through the years 87-48 BCE. Intended for an adult audience.

⭐ Trikaranos will always be free to read. In the near future, you’ll have the option to support this comic & my ability to spend time making it (I Am Extremely Fucking Broke And Have Bills To Pay etc etc) through Patreon! currently, I have a tip jar!

⭐ There is no set update schedule (chapters vary in length and will be posted as I finish working on them)

⭐ alternative places to read it (coming soon!)

CREDITS all additional art used are in the public domain, and the specific images used are open access, etc

🍊the first collage panel is combination of: Plate 113: Greeks Battling the Trojans (from Ovid's Metamorphoses), Antonio Tempesta / The Trojans pulling the wooden horse into the city, Giulio Bonasone (after Francesco Primaticcio) / Terracotta hydria displaying Achilles waiting to ambush Triolos and Polyxena 🍊the second collage panel is: The Lictors bringing Brutus the bodies of his Sons, Jacques Louis David / the paint over of Brutus executing is own sons is my own work based on the composition of this relief of Brutus and condemning his sons to death. 🍊I also used my own art: a panel from the Prologue, and my own illustration of Brutus with the bodies of his sons

📖 PREVIOUS CHAPTER | START HERE | ToC (under construction!)

UNDER THE CUT creator’s commentary, ancient citations, whatever else seems relevant. ideally, this is optional! you shouldn’t need the citations for it to make sense as it unfolds since it’s a comic and a story first and foremost, but it’s here if you’re curious about something or want to see where the inspiration is coming from!

I'm so fucking normal about Crassus and his family (<<< this is a lie)

Marcus Crassus was the son of a man who had been censor and had enjoyed a triumph; but he was reared in a small house with two brothers. His brothers were married while their parents were still alive, and all shared the same table, which seems to have been the chief reason why Crassus was temperate and moderate in his manner of life. When one of his brothers died, Crassus took the widow to wife, and had his children by her, and in these relations also he lived as well-ordered a life as any Roman.

Plutarch, Crassus

like, it actively fucks me up that this is something that's survived about him for over 2,000 years. they all ate together at the same table. Jesus Christ.

so! Crassus' dad! Publius Licinius Crassus (consul 97) fought on the side of Cn. Octavius (consul 87) in the Bellum Octavianum, and it didn't go great for him.

Crassus: A Political Biography, B.A. Marshall

also. currently, if you look Publius Licinius Crassus up on wikipedia for an overview, his page lists his son (and also my main character for this comic) with the cognomen Dives, which is in-fucking-correct.

Marcus Crassus and the Late Roman Republic, Allen Mason Ward

and to circle back to houses and meals shared with family, some citations that made me feel some kind of way when I read them

Marcus Crassus and the Late Roman Republic, Allen Mason Ward

finally, there is discourse or whatever on the placement of the sons of Publius Licinius Crassus. Crassus is the baby brother here simply because I'm writing this story and I get to pick the themes, but also because no one has provided a solid enough argument for him being the second eldest son that I'm willing to buy into with enthusiasm, and I'm more inclined towards G. Sampson's conclusion on the matter.

Defeat of Rome: Crassus, Carrhae, and the Invasion of the East, Gareth C. Sampson

and while I'm just kind of talking about stuff that I read that I enjoyed, this article by Martin Stone lives in my head rent free

A Year of One's Own: Dating the Praetorship of Marcus Crassus, Martin Stone

#trikaranos the komik #hehghghh HELLO i'm back. oof. hgh #if i think too much about them as a family i take critical damage to my hit points

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the-fandom-is-now-my-life · 4 months

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Types of baby daddy

It wasn't planned but he is going to do his best to help!

(kaeya stans please don't hate me too much before reading the justification)

Cw: AFAB!reader, pregnancy, Diluc is said to be more traditional than average mondstadt people lol,

Marriage

Diluc

Even if he seemed seconds away from dying when you told him, he is particularly more traditional in that regard that the average civilian, so he is already planning a hurried wedding to keep both of your honor (even if most of mondstadt doesn't care beyond a teasing remark)

One week before the wedding as Moka is cleaning a ‘spare room’ Adeline and Elzer approach you with a little gift of clothes and baby bottle from the maids

Childe

He is a free soul, traveling between nations fighting whoever he pleased and as unexpected as this is he feels responsible for the situation

As he is constantly in the road and isn't sure how safe most of them are he gives you two choices, stay in your nation and he visits whenever he can (sometimes it's a twice a month and other times it's once every 5 months) with a pretty free access to his bank account or you can stay in Snezhnaya with his family for support in your pregnancy and child raising but have to move nations

Zhongli

Unexpected, but he doesn't dislike it. You both knew it was possible even if unlikely for an offspring to be born between an adeptus and a human

Either way he gets over the initial shock quite fast as he gets on one knee and asks for your hand, he rationalized it as it being normal for humans his age to be married and form a family (to some extent wonders if it was a sign to settle down with you)

Neuvillette

Water spills from his goblet as does his serenity for a second, quickly apologizing for this mess wide eyed and pale faced, even if either of you two though that was possible

After a chat about your plans and what would be better on the future you decide for a swift and demure marriage with the melusines and Furina being the only witnesses

Cleans up their act

Itto

Even if it's after an earful from kuki or his granny he starts working a job on the port and so far 4 months and he is still hired! Even then you can see his gang on the port the days he does overtime, hiding behind boxes to make his beetle fight

Kaveh

While his behavior isn't as bad as Itto, he would do his best to straighten up his economy, maybe rent or buy a house.

He starts flooding himself with works to the point you can't see him some days if you don't barge in his study, he promises he will take less works when the baby arrives to help you but now he is trying to get as much money as possible

panics and disappears but gets dragged back again

Kaeya

His face loses the color that it usually has as he laughs nervously, he stands up from his chair and hurriedly walks to the door, thankfully Diluc was tending to the bar and managed to catch his brother just a few meters from the door. Now, forced down on his chair and with Diluc breathing down his neck, he faces you

He might not tell you this until midnight where you are cuddled up against the other but he is scared of not measuring up or messing up as a father figure, the first one left him in front of a stranger's house and the other died when he was a teen barely scraping adulthood. He also worries about Khaenri’ah’s past tormenting his child as it did to him, but this is something that will be harder to coerce out of him

Coparent/ goes to a lawyer to get a written agreement

Alhaitham

He admits that it was partially his fault the situation you two are in right now so he asks to draft an agreement of sorts, he proposes a 30/70 custody with him getting them on the weekends and some extra days and a higher child support than mandated, when you two bump each other on the street you still act friendly even when you are discussing where your son should spend Christmas or if you should merge this year

How??

Albedo

Albedo looks at you unblinking, his teal eyes looking you up and down “ I always thought I was sterile. I never guessed homunculus could reproduce…” he says airy before his eyes start sparkling with wonder, I would recommend you retake this chat in 3 weeks after his investigation fever has passed a bit.

Klee might start yelling that she is going to be the best auntie ever

Wandered

He only clicks his tongue, a snarky comment slipping past his lips “so that hag created me with that ability? What would be even the point” even then he holds your hand acting as if it wasn't a big deal

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multifandomgirl08 · 12 days

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Time to Move? [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Fiancée!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: When Max had brought up moving, it was because the lease on his apartment was going to be up at the end of the year. Maybe it was time to find a new place for all of you.

Warning(s): Implied Sexual Content in the first half

Words: 2.6k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

Nico was already in bed for the night after refusing to go to bed without Max reading him a story. He had protested until you offered to read Nico two stories if he let Papa finish his race. Nico perked up and then dragged his feet to bed. He made it through the first story, and by the time you were getting through the second one, he was falling asleep.

You joined Max in the living room after Nico had fallen asleep, where he was sitting on his racing sim talking to someone before he logged off for the night. Max and the guys from Team Redline had been streaming tonight.

“Yeah, I’ll be back on tomorrow.” He said before clicking something on the steering wheel.

“Sure, bye guys.” Max turned the sim off before pulling off his headphones and stepped out of his seat.

Your laptop was open looking at houses. You and Max had been talking about moving from his apartment to a house. You had been looking at houses online for the last few days and you couldn’t find anything in Monaco that looked like it was a good house for Nico to grow up in. You wanted things like a few bedrooms for you and Max to have your own spaces in the house, a pool, and a yard for Nico.

“How’s looking at houses?” He asked taking the empty can of Red Bull before throwing it in the recycling bin in the kitchen.

“It’s like there is nothing for sale. Maybe we should hire someone to find something for us.” You shut your laptop and put it on the coffee table.

“We don’t have to stay in Monaco, we can move further out.”

“We could, maybe moving out a little further would help.”

“I’m sure we’ll find something, there’s no rush.”

He was right there wasn’t, there was just so much going on for all of you right now. You were sitting down with the wedding planner while working, and you had recently just started to figure out how Nico’s karting schedule would end up working with Max’s schedule for the rest of the season. You didn’t even want to think about what was going on at work right now.

“I know.”

When Max had brought up moving, it was because the lease on his apartment was going to be up at the end of the year, so you suggested looking at buying a house instead of renting. You would be able to have your own office, instead of just having your desk set up in the living room, Max could have his racing sim in one of the guest rooms, and Nico would have more room for his toys since he was slowly growing out of his bedroom. Max’s two-bedroom apartment made sense when you had moved in but now there wasn’t as much room for the three of you to grow into. It just made sense for you to find somewhere with more space.

Max had pulled you from the couch guiding you towards the master bedroom to take your mind off of the events of the day. Max leaned down, your lips meeting, feeling his eyelashes flutter closed against your cheekbones.

Your hands went to his back, letting your fingernails slightly dig into the fabric of his shirt. You slid your hands under the hem feeling his warm soft skin under your fingers. He pulled back only to start to pull at the tight fabric of his shirt, letting it fall to the floor hitting your bare feet.

It had taken another month looking at houses before you and Max even bothered talking to a real estate agent. Eventually, on a Sunday, both you and Max woke up early, dropping Nico off at Daniel’s for the day before going to meet the realtor. The Aussie had taken Nico from your arms, almost shooing both you and Max out of his apartment, wanting to spend every moment that he could with his godson.

“Uncle Daniel has it all handled,” He said, taking the bag out of Max’s hands. Nico was already situated on the couch asking Daniel if he had any fun games that they could play.

After that you and Max walked down to the garage to get into his car. He pulled open your door for you before you slid into the seat.

Max had gotten in and then started the car, you were making a small list of all of the things the house would need, “Pool, gym, 4 or 5 bedrooms.”

“And a big garage, I’m going to need a workspace to keep working on Nico’s kart.” Max’s focus was on the road but it seemed like the list for what you wanted was never ending.

You were meeting the realtor just outside of Monaco in a gated community. At least you wouldn’t have to worry about privacy. Max had pulled the car up to the house, and it could only be described as a big, modern, white box.

“I bet the moment we step into the house, we’ll be able to smell that the paint isn’t all the way dry.” You gave a small nod agreeing with Max. The house was new, too new for your liking.

You met the agent inside, he spoke with a thick French accent and told you the basic information of the house. It was on almost a full acre of land, had a pool, 4 bedrooms, a kitchen, a 2-car garage, and it was under 14 million euros. However, as you looked around the house there was no grass for Nico to run around on, and the closets in the house were small with the master bedroom sharing a single small closet.

This wasn’t the house for you and Max.

The next house you and Max drove to wasn’t on the market yet, it would be going up in about a week, and it didn’t even have an estimated price from the seller. It was close to Monaco, but a little higher up in the hills. You were concerned that since it was just outside of the city, it may not be considered as a part of Monaco, but rather in the next part over.

As Max pulled up to the gate, the guard had let you through. It looked like a cream one-story house, and you could see that there was a small water feature that led to the front door. The agent had walked in front of you with the key that had been in the lockbox before opening the door leading to a long entryway. It looked like going left would lead to the living room, and going right would lead to the dining room and the kitchen. But your eyes went front and center, looking out on the big backyard and pool, you felt like asking if all of the outdoor furniture came with the house.

You could feel Max’s hand on your hip, leading you down the hall to the kitchen. You could tell from the kitchen that it was a little dated but not too bad. It had a free-standing coffee maker instead of one that was built in, and an induction top stove, instead of a gas top like at the apartment. If you and Max got the house it was something that would need to be re-done before you moved in.

You and Max walked around the house for a while longer, the house turned out to be two stories, not one. It had two bedrooms upstairs both with en-suite bathrooms. When you had taken the stairs from the kitchen, it led down a long hallway that was photoless aside from the doorways that led to other rooms.

Max had stopped in front of a set of double doors, before pushing one open to reveal what could only be the master bedroom. There were doors that seemed to lead outside, the bed was up against the wall on the opposite side of the room, and it seemed like two doorways were hugging each side behind the bed. You and Max walked through one each, you ended up in a closet with white built-in shelves and a center island before seeing what was another doorway. You walked through it, and ended up meeting Max in the middle of the bathroom, which was settled between the two large closets; his and hers.

You gave the bathroom a quick look over, a big walk in shower with a bench, freestanding tub, makeup counter, and two sinks. From there you walked the rest of the second floor, there were another three bedrooms, a gym, and a wine cellar tucked away in the corner. The house had more than enough room for you, Max, Nico, and the cats.

From there you made your way back upstairs, finally walking outside to see the pool. The upstairs terrace had stairs leading down to the pool.

Max took your hand and led you down the stairs before you both stopped in front of the pool to see the birdseye view of Monaco and the Mediterranean sea from the backyard, even this far up in the mountains the sea still gave off a bright blue shine almost as if it was mirroring the sky.

You could hear Max’s shoes against the grass as he moved to lie down in one of the lounge chairs, his head already laid back closing his eyes. You pulled your heels off, moving to sit next to him on the lounge before he pulled you flush against his chest to lay down next to him.

“You like it?” He muttered into your hair.

“Yes.” You answered simply.

“I’ll ask him when it’s going to be put on the market.” Max didn’t even move from his spot, he just wrapped his arm around your waist, forcing your legs apart so that you were straddling one of his thighs.

“We don’t even know how much it is,” You started. “And the kitchen needs to be re-done.”

Max ran his hands over your arms, silently telling you to calm down, “We’ll figure it out. Besides, the last house is all the way on the other side of Monaco.”

You laid your head against Max’s chest, nuzzling your nose into his white t-shirt.

“Now you're just being lazy.” Max let out a loud laugh at your words.

“You wore me out with your late night activities.” His hand moved down to grip the inside of your thigh.

“You weren’t complaining then.” You gave him a small pout. Max gave you a crooked smile and then reached for your hand, kissing the band of your engagement ring.

You and Max laid there for a few more moments before making your way back up the stairs and into the living room to see the agent on the phone.

He looked up at the sound of your heels clicking on the white stone outside of the pocket doors.

“So, what do you think?” He asked.

“It’s nice,” Max started.

“That’s good. A little more what you were expecting… And it’s still within the Monaco postal code, so you don’t have to worry about not being considered a resident while you’re living here, even though you're technically in Saint-Jean Cap Ferret.” As the agent talked, you knew that it meant that the price would go down a bit since you weren’t actually in Monaco still.

“What’s the price?” The agent widened his eyes. He wasn’t expecting Max to just outright ask about the price.

“Well… Umm… I think the owner was looking at 17.5 million euros.”

“17.5,” You stated, the agent nodded. “What about 16.5? Given that I want to re-due the kitchen, and I would want to negotiate for the furniture to come with the house.”

“The kitchen is brand new,” The agent stated, but you knew he was lying. “And all of the furniture is from a staging company.”

“No, the kitchen isn’t, it has a free standing coffee maker, and the fronts of the cabinets need to be replaced. I’m sure the seller can pay out the staging company. Let’s also talk about the fact that it also isn’t on the market yet. I bet that the seller will want to list it at 17.5 and it’ll sit because the price is too high.”

You didn’t work in real estate but after all of your years in banking, private asset management was something you were knowledgeable in. Homes like this one were important assets in a portfolio. Since the house wasn’t new construction, and the seller wasn’t the original builder, they couldn’t price it at 17.5 million given the other homes in the area.

“He won’t go for that.”

“Why don’t you ask him?” You weren’t really suggesting it. But the agent was making it hard for you, you had clients at work who were more decisive in their choices then this guy.

It took a few seconds, but it was almost like the agent had scurried off to the other side of the house with his hand tightly gripping his phone.

“So this is what I’m missing while you’re working all day.” Max said softly, as he laid one of his hands on your hip.

“Max,” You said. He had pulled you into his chest and quickly dropped a kiss to your bare shoulder.

“I’m sitting in on one of your meetings next time.” You couldn’t tell if Max was joking or not. You knew that he was only trying to make you relax a bit.

“And what are you going to do while I’m busy?”

“I’ll find something to entertain myself with.” You saw Max’s eyes drop to your neck, before they quicked moved up again to meet your eyes.

“Want to play my assistant for the day?” You asked him. You could see the excitement fill Max’s eyes, and knew that if Max was going to watch you “work” you weren’t going to get anything done that day. He gave you a wordless nod before you heard footsteps again.

“16.5 million, all cash, outdoor furniture included.” The Agent was quick to say with his phone pressed into his white shirt.

Max just looked at you, and you read it as he was letting you take care of this. You gave the agent a half nod, “With a 14 day inspection contingency.”

The agent just stared at you, and you could hear sound coming from his phone. He gave you a curt nod, and placed his phone back up to his ear reiterating your additional stipulation.

It took a few moments before the agent got off the phone. “The seller is willing to take the additional stipulation.”

“Great.” You said.

“I’ll start the paperwork and we should have everything ready in the next few days.” The agent placed his hand out towards you. You shook his hand, and then he shook Max’s. “Congratulations on your new home.”

The agent left both of you in the house, instructing you to place the key back in the lock box. Technically you weren’t allowed to have the keys until the paperwork went through and everything was signed and notarized.

“Welcome home.” Max said with his hand on your hip.

“Tell me that again when we get the keys and the kitchen is re-done.”

Max laughed, “I’ll make sure, mijn leeuwin.”

You leaned into Max and up to kiss him. It would take a little bit but you couldn’t wait to make this house into yours and Max’s home.

Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @lpab, @thedecalcomania-blog, @xoscar03, @em-gvf01, @haikyuen, @shelbyteller , @geniusalpaca

#mini verstappen series #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #mv33 imagine #mv33 x reader #mv33 x you #mv1 x reader #mv1 x you #mv1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula one imagine

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seeingivy · 2 months

Text

the moms

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's older brother fic

previous part linked here

“so was it good?”

you shove sammy in the side.

“i don’t have sex and tell, samantha.” you respond, exaggerating every last syllable.

sammy sticks her tongue out to you in response, before handing you the fork. she was the messiest eater you knew, possibly even worse than yuuji, and she had all but demolished the layers of the triple chocolate cake that the two of you were sharing.

“would it kill you to eat this like a normal person?”

“dude, just tell me. this is the fun part about having sex!”

“what? gossiping about it after?” you ask.

“obviously.”

you roll your eyes, before crossing your arms over your chest.

“well, why don’t you gossip first? you’ve had more sex than i have.”

“okay, fine. the first time i had sex it was after prom at some random house party. your turn!”

you give her a glare, which she responds to with a glimmering smile, before gesturing for you to take your turn. that wasn’t the answer you were hoping for when you asked that.

“well, i made dinner before he came. and he was like…doing the whole teasing thing because he always makes us dinner and not the other way around.”

“well, i’m shocked you didn’t chop your own hand off during the process.”

“shut up. anyways, i like initiated it by just giving him the condom.”

sammy nearly chokes on her bite of the cake.

“huh?”

“i just like put it on the table. then he was like going on about how he should be buying the condoms and not me and all that. and even after, he was going off about birth control and plan b and he can buy this one or that one for me and –”

“as he should. i’d come skin him alive if he didn’t.”

“yeah but, i just hate when he offers up him money to me sometimes. he won’t let me pay rent, he like so casually offered to pay for grad school if i have to apply again and -”

“you won’t have to apply again.”

you shoot her a warning glance, before continuing.

“i just feel bad. it reminds me a lot of how much mom probably has to pay them back and hasn’t yet. i’ll feel like i’m doing the same thing to him even though he said it doesn’t really matter because i’ll make more money than him down the line and pay him back.”

sammy pauses.

“i get what you mean. and it’s not his fault, but maybe he just doesn’t get that…that it’s such a big thing he’s giving away. and you are his girlfriend and you do mean the world to him, but it’s not…”

“it’s just too much money. i don’t have something liek that to really offer him. i know it’s an investment in me and that he believes in me and that…that i could eventually pay him back, but i just can’t do that i…i just –”

“well you won’t have to, because you’re going to get in. and if you don’t get in, i will help you apply again. i have a job and you’re my sister.”

you glare at her.

“i’m serious, y/n. you’re my responsibility and…and you shouldn’t feel bad taking my money to do it. it’s only because i know how strapped you are for money. i know that you’ll really mean to pay it back.”

“i will pay it all back, though. like the first second i can, i’m going to –”

sammy leans forward, placing both of her hands on your shoulder and squeezing hard. it’s an almost silly smile that she gives you – and it’s almost like you can see seven year old sammy coming up to the surface.

“relax. i know you will. and i’ll be waiting for it.”

you swallow hard.

“okay fine. fine, fine. you can help me if it gets to that.”

“okay enough boring talk. was it hot? did you actually orgasm?” sammy asks.

you curl your nose up in disgust.

“nice segway.” you deadpan.

“cmon. he’s hot! i know it was good.”

you sigh.

“yes, it was hot. and yes, i did orgasm. twice.”

sammy always been one for the theatrics. and she’s never one to disappoint – because she’s dramatically clutching her chest and making such shocked faces that it makes you laugh.

“not one but TWO?”

you can’t help but smile as she continues her spiel of dramatics and that silent bit of pride – that sukuna was a caring enough partner to actually care about you rather than just himself – simmers up.

“who was the dom? is he into foreplay? oh…oh did he like the outfit? i bet he probably lost his mind.”

“him, obviously. but he said that i’m a brat. and yeah he is into it, but he’s kind of always been like that. and he accidentally ripped it because he got too excited but he offered to get me another one and then added that i need lingerie in every existing color on the color spectrum so…”

“what a dick! i paid for that. and you looked great in it.”

you reach forward, just close enough where you can wrap your arms around her neck. you can hear her struggling a little, an irritated string of noises coming out of her mouth before you let go.

“what’s your problem?”

“i just felt really appreciative of you for a second there.”

sammy gives you a disgusted look, before cupping the bottom of your chin in her hand.

“you’re gross, y/n.”

“you love it!”

sammy gives you one last glare, before sliding a little pink box over to the side. you shoot her a confused look, before opening it and fighting the urge to laugh.

it’s a little frosted cupcake, with the word virgin crossed out on it.

“you’re horrible.”

“it’s funny!”

“what’s in the box?” sukuna asks.

sukuna watches as your eyes widen, before you slam the little pink box shut and slide it behind your back.

you feel your heart sink your chest as sukuna stalks closer, giving you a wide grin, before he stretches his arms – which are irritatingly long – behind you and reaches for it. and before you can even try to snatch it back, he’s turned his back to you as he opens it.

“who gave you this? or is this just something you bought yourself?”

“why the hell would i buy that for myself?”

sukuna laughs as he hands you the box back, which you tuck closer to your chest before you glare at him.

“it’s okay to celebrate big milestones in our relationship. i get it, sweetheart.” he responds.

“i did not buy myself a cupcake with the word virgin crossed out on it. sammy gave it to me. she thinks she’s hilarious.”

sukuna shrugs.

“you’ve been hanging out with sammy a lot.”

you smile.

“dunno. she always invites me to come get coffee with her. the other day i asked her to come study with me and it was really nice.”

“and you talk about how you’re not a virgin over a matcha while you hang out.”

you grin.

“it was actually a slice of cake.”

sukuna dismissively shakes his head, before leaning his head over your shoulder and eyeing the cupcake.

“what flavor?”

“chocolate. you’re not going to like it.”

he’s leaning over your shoulder, sticking his finger straight into the frosting before licking it off his finger. you watch as he curls his face in disgust as he holds his finger out to you.

“too sweet. want it?”

you swipe the rest of the frosting off of his finger as you tuck the box back into the fridge and turn around to sukuna smirking at you. you roll your eyes as you shove him, knowing that this was going to be yet another one of his dirty jokes – that never seemed to cease.

it’s at that point that you realize that he entirely did it on purpose. and that he had the maturity of a seventeen year old boy at times.

“you’re immature. i just licked your finger.” you state.

“you just licked my finger? like you just licked my –”

you flip him off, earning you a laugh from him, before he wraps his arms around your waist, this time pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. it’s not long before he starts leaving wet kisses on your neck, before you can feel your entire body start to thrum under his touch.

“c'mon. you’re so tense. let me fix it.” he whispers.

“i need to iron our clothes. and i’m just worried about later, with the moms, that’s all.”

his breath tickles as he leans lower, now sucking into the soft spots of your neck, as you whine – his voice rasping against your skin. you try to shake him off, already sporting three marks that you’d need to cover up for tonight, but he persists.

“who cares?” he murmurs.

you pout.

“i care! she’s your mom! she’s my mom! and sammy said they invited yuuji, who is probably going to be pissed that i was going there without him in the first place. and your dad is going to be there which is –”

sukuna spins you around, tucking his hand under your chin.

“i don’t give a fuck what my dad thinks. neither should you.”

“i don’t. but, he…”

“what?”

“he says stuff. about yuuji when we go. he could say it about us too, about you.”

“i don’t care.”

“well, i do. who gives him the right?”

it was a simmering irritation that had been taking residence in your head for the past few days. you’d always thought it was a little crass – sukuna’s comments about how his mom was spineless at times, how he couldn’t care less if his father lived or died.

he’d always found your insistence to see your parents at least every two weeks ridiculous, that you and yuuji would go out of your way to trek out there to see them when the entire experience was wholly unpleasant anyways.

but it was all you thought about now – and maybe even a little haunting that now you found his reasoning sound. that as much as you loved his mom, she really was spineless for making him assume so much responsibility when it should have been her. and his dad – that you would actually prefer it if he did die, just to save the two of them from getting hurt.

sukuna lifts his hands and squishes your cheeks, so close together that you can’t get a word out. you glare at him in response – irritated that he always seems to somehow shut you up before you can even broach the topic.

but you drop it, like you almost always do, because all he does is brightly smile at you in response, muttering under his breath about how squishy your cheeks are. and it feels wrong – to curb someone who was so happy and bring up such a sore topic…especially when you two would probably return to the apartment downtrodden in a few hours and have to talk about it anyways.

“sukuna.”

he reaches up, rubbing his thumb into your forehead – a gesture he always did when he was trying to get you to stop frowning.

“eh? what happened to calling me ryomen?”

“well, you’re being annoying.”

“quit making that frowny face.”

“i’m just saying that i want dinner to go well. i don’t want it to go bad because then the moms are going to be upset and yuuji could be too which will be irritating for you and i just –”

sukuna gives you one lingering kiss before pulling back and resting his forehead against yours.

“love that you worry about me. but i’ll be fine. just drop it, okay?” he whispers.

you frown.

“okay. but the first sign of trouble we’re leaving. three squeezes we fight and leave, two squeezes for shut up and stay.”

sukuna smiles.

“deal, pretty girl.”

you stand on the cobblestone walkway for five minutes. mainly because every time sukuna makes an effort to drag you into the house, you pull back on his hand and linger there for a few more seconds, refusing to walk in.

“we’re already late. one of them is probably having an aneurysm right now.” sukuna states.

“there’s no way they aren’t watching this all go down from the window. and two more minutes. i’m just trying to compose myself.”

“well, unfortunately, we’re not in the fucking orchestra, baby. let’s just get it over with.”

you roll your eyes at him and he tries again – pulling your arm forward – before you pull back. you appreciate that he refuses to walk in without you, but that simmering pool of disgust in your stomach, mainly for sukuna’s dad, was getting even worse now that you were here. and if you went now, you wouldn’t keep the promise you two had made.

to avoid fights, at all costs.

“so what are we doing out here?”

you both turn your heads to find yuuji at your sides, both immediately dropping your hands from one another’s, as you look at him. it fills an ache in your chest – that you used to do this with him and he barely even wanted to see you these days – as you give him a halfhearted smile.

“ah. just nervous to go in, that’s all.” you respond.

“oh, the moms will be dying to hear all the details. what’s there to be scared of?”

“exactly that. that they’re going to ask for details.”

yuuji leans his head back, laughing like a little kid, before shaking his head and pressing his hands to your shoulders. it fills you with the slightest amount of ease – warm hands on your shoulders, his musky cologne filling your nose – as you walk closer to the door.

sukuna knocks on the door for the three of you. and they both answer the door in a split second, confirming your suspicions that they really were watching everything go down from the window.

it’s suffocating – the group hug that the two of them trap you all in. you can hear both yuuji and sukuna groaning in your ears, your own windpipe constricted from your vantage point in the middle, as you hear a string of sweet nothings coming out of their mouths.

“our little love birds are here!”

when they let go, freeing the three of you from their deathly grasp, they’re both beaming at you and sukuna so lovingly that it almost freaks you out. you shoot a look to yuuji at your side, whose making his best efforts not to laugh, as he walks past the four of you into the kitchen.

“okay, okay, let’s see it then!” your mom states.

“see what?” sukuna asks.

“do something sweet. give her a kiss, sukuna!” mrs. itadori adds.

“i will most definitely not be doing that.” sukuna responds, pressing a halfhearted kiss to his mom’s cheek before linking his arm in with yours and dragging you past the two of them.

they both follow, like overzealous dogs, as you shoot them polite smiles. but the second you catch sight of sammy in the kitchen, with a batch of cupcakes, you wrestle out of sukuna’s grasp to run up to her.

sammy gives you a smile in recognition when she realizes it’s your pounding steps that she’s hearing and opens her arms up for you. it’s a warm hug – a sickeningly sweet smell of sugar emanating from her – as she whispers into your ear, the two of you snickering.

“did he like my cupcake?”

“i hope you die, bitch.”

“who said that?” your mom asks.

“sammy.” you respond.

“y/n.” sammy responds, at the exact same time.

you both snicker as you lean against the counter with her, as sukuna walks over with his arms crossed against his chest.

“samantha.” he states.

“ryomen sukuna.” she responds.

“y/n!” you add.

the two of them look over at you, irritated looks on their faces.

“everyone was saying each other’s names really dramatically. i wanted to join in.” you add.

“i’m going to have a talk with you after dinner, ryomen.”

“fine, samantha. i look forward to it.”

despite the rather dramatic and overzealous tones they’re both using, their smiles deceive them entirely. sammy gives him a light shove, that he fully returns, before he walks off into the kitchen.

and not even two minutes later, you can’t help but abandon helping the sammy with the dishes and instead poke your head out to the table – where sukuna’s now sitting next to yuuji and two seats away from his dad.

you can tell that the sukuna and yuuji are whispering under their breaths, but entirely unable to discern if it’s pleasant or if they’re two seconds away from ripping each other’s heads off.

sammy slaps you on the backside of the head.

“you’re even worse than him. why are you staring at him? you literally live together.”

“we don’t live together. and how do you even know that?”

“you told me.”

“i totally didn’t, but…they’ve been fighting since we started dating. i’m scared one of them is going to smack the other at this point.”

sammy rolls her eyes.

“don’t tell me yuuji has some weird complex about you dating his brother. there’s no way he didn’t know sukuna has liked you this entire time.”

“what are you girls whispering about?” your mom asks.

you both shoot up, abandoning the door, as you start stacking the plates, shooting the two of them a peachy smile.

“nothing, mommy. just girl stuff.” you mutter.

“y/n was staring at sukuna. i was telling her that she has all the time in the world to do that and that she should help me instead.”

you shoot sammy a glare, as she starts laughing behind her hand, before sukuna’s mom walks up to you, cupping both of your cheeks in her hands. you’re caught off guard by the blatant affection – because it’s not that she hasn’t been fond of you before, but it holds too much of a different weight now.

“oh sweet girl. i’m so happy for you two, i’ve always known he’s had such a special spot for you.”

you smile as she reaches forward and presses a wet kiss to your cheek, before wrapping you in one of the tightest hugs to man. you can feel the blood rushing to your head, nervousness returning in full flesh as she lets you go and smiles.

“so everyone tells me! at this point, it feels like everyone knew but me.” you add.

“do you remember when he walked to a grocery store to get you a princess bandaid because you thought the tan ones were boring? because i personally remember that and thought –”

“sammy, quit it. don’t tease your sister.” your mom scolds.

sammy bites down on her cheeks at the comment, at being berated by your mom, as you frown. you look at her over your shoulder, shaking your head in dismissal, as you grab the last of the dishes and drag them out to the table.

it was a weird test – the dinner tonight. between you and sammy, since you had just rekindled whatever relationship it was you had, and you and yuuji, since he couldn’t seem to be bothered to really talk to you these days. and between your god given patience and sukuna’s dad, obviously.

when you walk into the room, sukuna shuffles a seat over, offering you the spot in between him and yuuji, and you shoot him a grateful smile. but you immediately regret sliding into it, realizing that he’s now stuck right next to his dad and across from his mom at the other side.

you reach for sukuna’s hand under the table and he laces his fingers in with yours. when he looks up at you, he frowns and presses his fingers to your cheek.

“you have a lipstick mark.” sukuna states, rubbing into the softness of your cheek.

“oh. your mom kissed me.”

sukuna rolls his eyes.

“irritating. that’s my thing.”

sukuna drops his hand as your mom walks in with the last of the plates, everyone shuffling into their seats and giving each other peachy smiles. it’s almost awkward at first, because no one seems to really talk with anyone else. it’s really only the moms interjecting every one in a while, but it’s almost always awkward comments.

“sammy. you should have brought your boyfriend.” your mom states.

you shoot your head up.

“he’s busy.” she responds.

“he’s always busy. we’d love to meet the guy you spend so much time with. he could even be friends with sukuna!”

“well, sukuna is annoying, so i doubt it. but sure, sure. next time.” sammy responds, reaching for her glass and downing half of the water in it.

you shoot her a smile, which she doesn’t really return, as you bite down into the side of your cheek.

the dinner goes well, considering things. it’s obviously very awkward – and they ask way too many overbearing questions that sukuna refuses to answer due to the intrusion. and that you can’t stomach answering either, because yuuji’s almost too attentive eyes at your side guilt you into not confessing.

“have you guys said i love you yet?” mrs. itadori asks.

“mom.” sukuna groans.

you two shoot each other a look.

“if you must know, we have. now talk about something else, literally anything else.” sukuna responds, making such an aggressive cut into his chicken that it loudly clinks against the ceramic of the plate.

it’s enough to satiate the moms and throw them into their own frenzy of excitement.

“i’m going to get some water.” yuuji states.

“i’ll come with!” you respond, shooting him a smile as you both awkwardly pull out of the chairs.

it’s a quiet walk to the kitchen, as yuuji rummages through the cabinets and produces a glass for the two of you. but luckily enough for you, he’s the one who fills the silence first.

“i miss you.” he offers.

you feel your chest clench.

“really? i really miss you too.”

“got no time for me anymore now that you’ve got a boyfriend?” he jokes.

“that’s rich coming from you.” you joke back.

except when you look up, he’s looking at you with no semblance of a smile on his face, instead an awkward mix between confusion and irritation.

“what do you mean by that?”

“oh! i was just kidding!”

“were you?”

“it’s just because you’re always with megumi. and he always used to come to our hangouts, that’s all.”

“do you have a problem with that?”

“no. but –”

“because if you did, you should have just said. i thought we were best friends who told each other everything. including when the other was being a bad friend.” yuuji states.

“i know. i just felt bad and i didn’t really mind him joining.”

yuuji sighs, before turning to your side and facing you properly this time. it’s a simmering pool of disgust in your stomach – mainly for yourself – that yuuji had tried to build a bridge and you’d immediately burned it down by making a joke that wasn’t appropriate.

“look. i don’t like fighting with you. and i really miss you, you…you can even ask megumi. talk about it all the time. we have a lot to talk about, obviously, but –”

you sigh, reaching forward and opening your arms for him. it’s a bright smile that he gives you – characteristically warm, with the soft wrinkles by his eyes.

“i miss you too.”

“i’ll uh…promise to be civil then. if sukuna’s the hill you’re willing to die on, then…then i’ll try to get over it.”

you smile.

“really?”

“are you really that shocked? i’d do anything for you.”

“you gave me a pause there.” you add.

yuuji frowns, before reaching forward, and affectionately ruffling the side of your hair.

“i love you, y/n. i’m sorry if i didn’t make it seem that way, i just –”

“i know you love me. i just thought you trusted me more to know i wouldn’t make stupid decisions anymore.”

yuuji frowns.

“i don’t think you’re stupid. it was him i didn’t trust.”

“well, how about you just trust my judgment about him?”

“i just want you to be with someone who would treat you really well.”

“and he does treat me really well. i wouldn’t be with him if he didn’t.”

you reach forward, linking one of your hands in with yuuji’s, and squeeze hard.

“i appreciate the concern. but i’ll tap out if it’s too much for me.” you affirm.

yuuji frowns, before halfheartedly shaking his head.

“i know. just…you’re still my best friend first. you can still come to me if he does something to you…i…i don’t give a shit that he’s my brother.”

“obviously. you’re my day one.” you respond.

yuuji gives you a glimmering smile, which you take as a silent win, as you both walk back into the main room. and when you sit back down, sammy shoots you a wide eyed look, before letting her eyes flicker over to sukuna.

you look over at him at your side, only to find him clenching not only his jaw but his fists under the table. you reach for his leg under the table, squeezing once, which he immediately responds to by taking hold of your hand instead.

“you’re finally back. don’t you think it’s rude to leave for minutes at a time, y/n, yuuji?”

you bite down on your lip, feeling the acidic feeling crawl up your throat, as you turn your head to where sukuna’s dad is now staring you down. you shoot sukuna a warning glance, before you swallow the feeling down.

“i’m sorry. i wasn’t feeling well.” you respond.

you’re able to cue in that in the few seconds that you and yuuji had stepped into the kitchen, his dad had downed a decent amount of the wine bottle that had been intended for you and sukuna to share.

and the awkward silence hangs in the air, everyone lowering their heads to focus on pushing their food around on their plate. no one makes an effort to talk again and sukuna’s squeezing your hand so hard that you’re almost positive that he’s cutting your circulation off.

“what were you and yuuji talking about?” he asks.

“nothing. we were just getting water, because she wasn’t feeling well.” yuuji responds.

“right. well, you’re sure there’s nothing going on right? because you’ve always been closer than most.”

sukuna watches as you and yuuji pinch your eyes shut, the irritation festering in both of your expressions. sukuna remembers that you had mentioned it in passing – that his dad always seemed to suggest that there was something going on between you and yuuji – to avoid talking about megumi.

“she’s my girlfriend.” sukuna responds.

“well, like i was saying, you should rethink that.” his dad adds.

yuuji drops his fork.

“what?”

“yuuji, don’t.” sammy whispers.

“well, i was just saying. if it were me, i would feel strange if my wife was so close with another man. they’ve had hundreds of sleep overs…and you’re really telling me that two teenagers were sleeping in the same bed without doing anything?”

you feel your eye twitch.

“and then again, you do have to question her intentions. he makes more money than her, i’m now being told that she lives with him, and…and it begs the question. what does she really bring to the table? at best, student loans?”

sukuna immediately shoots his head to the left, only to find you looking down at your plate, the strands of your hair obscuring your face. he shakes your hand under the table, only to get two squeezes back.

no fighting.

he leans back in his chair, stomach rolling over, only to find yuuji staring bullets into his skin. he gives him a confused look, which only seems to agitate yuuji more.

“do something.” yuuji whispers.

“what the hell are you on about? just be quiet.” sukuna responds.

yuuji slams his utensils down on the plate, before pushing out of his chair.

“sukuna. help me with the dessert in the kitchen.” yuuji responds, tone scathing.

you let the two of them shuffle away into the kitchen and restrain yourself from joining them for a full two minutes. but the first shred of a raised voice that you hear is enough to make you push out of your chair and excuse yourself, only to find the two of them glaring at each other.

“guys…you have to be kidding me.” you state.

“y/n. you said you would tap out. i think now’s the time.” yuuji states.

sukuna tilts his head to the side.

“you said what?” sukuna asks.

“yuuji. that is in no way what i meant. and why the hell would i tap out?”

“he’s a dick! sukuna’s letting him talk to you like that and he doesn’t even care.”

sukuna’s sneering at him.

“like i said, dipshit, she asked me specifically not to. i actually care enough to listen unlike you.” sukuna responds.

yuuji’s glaring back.

“i would never, in good faith, let anyone talk about her like that. maybe that’s the difference between me and you.”

“you didn’t say shit when we were sitting there.” sukuna states.

“because you’re supposed to do that. she’s your girlfriend. you should adore her so much that it pisses you off that someone would even raise their voice at her.”

“and i do. but i love her enough to respect what she wants – which is not fucking fighting in front of our parents, dumbass.”

yuuji gets a little too close to sukuna and his raised hands make the panic rise up in your chest. you feel a set of footsteps moving before sammy’s standing right at your side, the two of you watching as they continue to argue.

you refuse to intervene. sukuna was mature enough to deal with it.

“do something.” sammy whispers.

“what the hell am i supposed to do?” you whisper back.

“they’re like your little lap dogs. make one stop and the other will follow. mrs. itadori’s like two minutes away from crying.”

you groan, as sammy gives you a supportive thumbs up, and you inch closer to them.

it’s the last time you decide to take sammy’s advice.

because the exact second that you decide to walk closer to them is also when yuuji decides that he’s going to punch sukuna first. except when he pulls his hand back to aim, he backs his fist into your face instead of sukuna’s.

it’s a burning warmth that’s blooming under your skin, as you clutch your hands to your forehead and block out the light before dropping to your knees. you instinctively try to block the light out as the pulsating rushes under the softness of your eye, the pain sharp.

you feel your head raise off of the cold tile quickly, sammy’s hands on your cheeks.

“shit. shit, y/n i’m sorry i didn’t think he’d punch you.” sammy states.

“sammy, you…you’re such a fucking idiot.” you murmur, in half coherency.

the first thing that you see in your peripheral vision is sammy and yuuji looking down at you, a warm fear drowning in both of their eyes but with the edges of your vision blurred. you can tell that there’s a slight sheen in yuuji’s eyes, his hands squeezing at your biceps and his voice entirely frantic.

“y/n. oh my fucking god, i’m so sorry. i didn’t even fucking see you there. i would never fucking hit you.”

“hey. hey, hey. focus on me.” sammy beckons.

you avert your gaze to her, now focused on how her fingers seem to be massaging into the back of your head.

“repeat your name for me.” sammy asks.

“what? you know my name sammy.”

“you know where you are?” she asks.

you can tell what she’s doing.

“sam, i’m fine. quit doing one of your nursing school exams on me.”

“follow my finger with your eyes. you hit your head, dumbass.”

the light is entirely obscured this time, quieting the sharpness of the fluorescent bulb above, when you finally find sukuna in your line of vision, nursing a bag of peas in his hands. he doesn’t say anything, eyes drowning in such guilt that it makes your stomach turn.

“hey, i’m fine.” you offer.

“sit up for me then doll.” he responds.

you follow his command, both sammy and yuuji stabilizing you at your side as he brushes his fingers over your eye. you flinch at the sensation, watching as his eyes flicker in hurt, before he presses the peas into the softness of your eyes. he continues to hold it there, before turning to sammy.

“is she okay, sam?”

“she didn’t answer all my questions, but i think she was just sassing me. she’s alert but just be on the watch if she gets more confused as she gets home. call me if it gets worse.” sammy offers.

“anything else i can do besides the ice?” sukuna asks, voice quiet.

“she’s going to be fine. s’just a bruise. give her an advil for a headache.” sammy responds, reaching forward to ruffle your hair before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

yuuji takes one of your hands in his, squeezing his hand in yours.

“y/n, really. i’m so sorry, you have to know that i didn’t mean it.”

you frown.

“i know, yuu. no big deal, let’s just…talk about it later, okay? i know it was an accident and…”

you’re cut off by the feeling of sukuna taking your other hand and squeezing three times. you look over at him, eyes wide.

“you might not need to tap out yet but i fucking do. can we leave?” he whispers.

“of course we can. i don’t want to –”

“i’m getting your bag. stay with sammy.” he responds, gesturing for her to take his place in holding the peas against your face as he stalks out of the room.

sukuna returns just as fast as he left, bag in his left hand and his right wrapped around your waist as he marches the two of you to the porch. in the few seconds he uses to pull up to the car at the front, you turn to sammy at your side.

“stay with yuuji. tell him that it’s okay and that he should stay with megumi tonight. i don’t want him to be all upset.”

“got it. i’ll come by tomorrow, okay?”

you give her a nod, as she walks you to the passenger side door, where sukuna’s quick to open the door and tuck you into the warmth of the car.

it’s a quiet ride home.

he’s uncharacteristically inexpressive the second you get back to the apartment. you can tell that it’s not nonchalance – only because he seems to be tending to you so dutifully, but quietly. almost like he can’t muster up something to say. and you can’t think of the right thing either.

he’s quick to lead you to the bedroom, helping you into your pajamas and carefully pulling the shirt over your injured eye. and even after that, delicately wiping the makeup off of your face, before pressing a real icepack into your eye.

it’s satisfying to him that you seem to relax under the cooling sensation of the icepack, fluttiern gyur eyes shut like you’re relieved.

“thanks ryo. i appreciate you taking care of me.” you mumble.

he lifts his hands up to your neck, using the tips of his fingers to angle your face up so that he can look at you properly in the light. you can see the contempt in his face at the pink swelling now, at how he swallows so hard you can see his adam’s apple bob in his throat.

“i’m going to kill him.” sukuna whipsers.

“i don’t care what your dad thinks. i don’t care if he thinks i have nothing to offer you –”

“not him…i’m talking about fucking yuuij. he fucking punched you, y/n.”

you cringe.

“it was an accident.” you respond.

“i know that. but that’s just the thing. he’s so fucking immature for even attempting to punch me at a family dinner. and as always, he has no fucking awareness of his surroundings or of you, because he just gave you a black eye.”

you can tell that he’s still simmering – muscles in his neck tense – as you try to diffuse the stiffness and tension.

“you care so much about little old me?” you joke, giving him a peachy smile.

he only glares in response.

“he punched you in your pretty face. stop fucking joking about it. i know how much that shit hurts first hand, y/n, and it's in no way funny to me."

you frown, before standing on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck. he’s quick to return the hug, holding most of your weight around your waist as you sag into him.

his voice is quiet when it comes out.

"i hate seeing you in pain." he mumbles.

it’s only then that you’re really able to recollect everything – the extremely high energy that the moms seemed to be dishing out, his dad’s clear, abundantly clear disapproval of you, and the fact that you and yuuji seemed to only get farther apart the closer you try to be to him. a

nd that the pinching headache that was starting to settle into the front of your forehead was something sukuna was all to familiar with, at age seven. that maybe the entire ordeal was reminding him of the worst, but that you were at the center of it.

and horribly, it’s a quick thought that passes your mind. that what you and yuujji have going on in between you might be irreparable. that you have to pick, and that you can't fix anything that happened to sukuna when he was little.

you don’t say much at first, only focused on pressing yourself into his skin and leaning against his shoulder. the thought of never recuperating your relationship with yuuji has the tiredness seeping into your bones and wearing you down completely.

his breaths seem to slow down, muscles relaxing as he only holds you closer, burying his head into the crook of your neck.

“quit being mad.” you murmur.

“easier said than done, princess.” he responds.

“was an accident. i know why it bothers you but...”

sukuna's quiet, his voice like gravel.

"i don't want to talk about that."

you pull back, immediately regretting mentioning it.

"i'm sorry. i didn't mean to push, i just meant-"

"i know. i just can't stomach reliving that when i can see the bruise on your face. i can't even fucking look at you, you...."

his voice wavers and you press your hand into his cheek, dismissing it.

"whenever you're ready. if you want to."

you frown. sukuna’s quick to pull back and wrap one his hands around your cheek.

“stop talking about me. you're the one who's hurt, you...you have to let me fix it.” he whispers.

you can tell that he's trying to change the subject. and that really, some part of him only feels comfortable when he's taking care of someone else. you'll grant it to him for today.

“i’m just tired and that was just a lot with yuuji and i just…”

you deflate, feeling warm tears rise up in your eyes. that he always wants to take care of you, even when he doesn't feel his best. you can watch as sukuna’s face literally droops, before lifting your face up again.

that really, he cared about you so earnestly, and yuuji was refusing to see it.

“what is it?”

“what if yuuji and i are never the same again? what if…what if we just keep getting worse?”

sukuna frowns.

“i don’t like that he makes you pick, y/n. but i wouldn’t –”

“no. no fuck off for a second, god.”

sukuna’s thrown off by the cursing, as he takes the cue to be quiet and talk.

“i’d pick you. he’s being a dick and i-i’d always pick you. you’re all the cheesy stuff for me. we’re two stars and two flowers and you…you’re the love of my life. i’d pick you. i just hate that he won’t let me have this thing and how we don’t get to have a big…a big cheesy family who is happy for us besides sammy, who i really love right now.”

sukuna tucks the stray hair behind your ears, before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“it’s not fair! we deserve people who just want to be happy for us, you deserve a good dad who isn’t a dick, i deserve one who is still here, and i’ve always wanted a big wedding and future with a warm family that…that bakes cookies for each other and shit and it just gets more and more obvious that we’ll never get to have that and it makes me angry.”

sukuna smiles, before pressing his hands to the sides of your waist and lifting you up on to the counter. he takes residence in the spot between your legs, looking up at you with the softest of smiles.

“i wanted to have a nice dinner where yuuji realized you made me really happy and sammy could admit that she’s bi or a lesbian or experimenting or whatever and i wanted to feel like people really loved me and were finally happy for me after everything that happened.” you add.

you look down to find sukuna with the smallest whisper of a smile on his face and you can’t help but glare at him.

“what are you smiling about freak?” you mutter.

“you want a big cheesy family with me.”

you roll your eyes.

“i got hit in the head. let me live.”

sukuna shakes his head.

“no take backs, angel.”

he presses a kiss into the bare skin of your shoulder, before mumbling quietly.

“no corny family for us, right now. but that doesn’t mean that we can’t make one for ourselves.”

“hm?”

“we can make our own big cheesy family. you’d be a really good soccer mom.”

you snort.

“you’d run a kindergarten soccer team like it was the military.” you respond.

“damn right i would. our kid has to be the best.”

you smile.

“we’ll be a proper family. you have to make school lunches that every food on the fucking food pyramid in them or whatever and corny notes about how much you love them. and i’ll teach them math and attempt to not make them cry when i help them. we’ll go to shitty concerts together and pretend like it was good and i will obviously fight a snotty nosed child if they ever bother our kids.”

you poke at his dimples.

“we’ll rotate on good cop bad cop. i’ll pretend like i’m their favorite when we both know it’ll be you. sammy will be a wine aunt and if yuuji can stop being a fucking bitch, which he will, he’d fucking spoil them rotten.” he adds.

“why are you saying all this?”

“we’ll make the family we want. s’no point in being upset about it when we’ll have it all. i'll make sure of it.”

you sigh, before pushing off of the counter and looking up at him. he leans down, pressing a featherlike kiss into the pulsating bruise near your eye, before locking his hands together around your neck.

“see the vision?” he asks.

“not really. i would hate being a soccer mom. yuuji doesn’t seem like he’s going to let up. and sammy doesn’t like wine, sukuna.”

sukuna smiles.

“we’ll get you there. i’ll keep convincing you till you’ll believe it, okay?”

“are you mad i can’t see it?”

“no. thought stuff like that was hopeless for me before i met you, so. and fighting with your best friend and hearing shit from people you want more from doesn’t make that easy. but i'll get you there.”

he reaches forward, tracing a little x over your chest. you give him a nod, before mimicking the same motion on his heart too.

next part linked here

an: sometimes i wonder if this fic is ever annoying. but then I ignore it and post the chapter anyways. anyways meow the next chapter im so excited for eek

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 7 months

Text

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 1

Eddie doesn’t even know why he’s at this stupid party. It’s full of jocks showboating for their girlfriends, their girlfriends clustering together and giggling like watching Tommy Hagan do a keg stand is somehow dreamy. He’d had an entire beer spilled on his shoes, been heckled out of the kitchen and into the backyard, and left to brood out by Harrington’s ostentatious, heated in-ground pool. And it’s barely been an hour.

Within that hour, he’s made enough money to buy two month’s worth of cigarettes. That’s the rub of it all, isn’t it? Counting his time with packs of cigarettes, and bald tires that need replacing. And stupid things like food for their barren fridge and heat in the trailer once fall fully bleeds into winter. Wayne can only do so much, with rolling blackouts hitting the plant, and rent increasing a little more every year.

So Eddie goes to parties full of people he hates, lunch box secured to his person with the chain at his hip, switchblade stuffed in his back pocket. Just in case.

This party is only ramping up, people trickling out from the overstuffed house to loiter on the back porch, occasionally stopping by to procure his services. As the first hour dwindles into the second, Eddie’s supply is getting dangerously low.

He’s just considering leaving when he notices the King himself trailing after two girls he vaguely recognizes as the two that have been haunting the edges of the jock table the past few weeks.

The brunette is scowling, hand wrapped tightly enough around her redheaded friend’s wrist to make the skin turn unnaturally white as she yanks her along none too gently, her short legs making ferocious strides that have both her captive friend and Harrington stumbling to keep up.

Harrington’s got his hands up like he’s placating a spooked horse, talking too quietly for Eddie to hear over the pounding beat of the music. The girl isn’t spooked though. Despite being the shortest of the group, she looks like a predator on the hunt, just waiting for a slip up to make her kill.

Whatever Harrington is saying must not go well. The brunette shoves her friend behind her, stabbing her finger into his chest, voice rising in rage. “–know he meant it, Steve!” she yells, flatting her palm to push him back harshly. She spins on her heel, continuing her trek past Eddie’s spot by the pool and out toward the open gate to the driveway. “As long as he’s here, we’re not going to be!”

“Don’t be like that Nance,” Harrington placates, following in her wake. “Tommy’s just drunk.”

“I don’t care about Tommy!” Nancy snaps. “I care that you’re friends with such a despicable person.”

“Nance–”

“I thought you were better than this, Steve Harrington,” she says.

Then they’re both through the gate and gone. Harrington doesn’t follow. He stands there, staring where the girls had been, back to Eddie. He’s still as a statue for a long, endless minute before growling, low and angry, pulling his fist back and punching the side of his house.

The hit makes a meaty squelching sound of breakable skin striking an immovable object and parting under its pressure. It almost echoes through the yard in the silence between songs, the whispering from all the onlookers starting up just before the next top forty song begins blaring.

Harrington spins, glaring out at the clustered people on the porch, hands on his hips, blood dripping down onto the green of his sweater, the light blue of his jeans. It’s a little thrilling to see the King bloody, even at his own hands. Like a true royal, he snaps, “go inside,” voice demanding obedience. And they do obey, scuttling back into the house in small clusters, shutting the sliding glass door behind the last of them.

Harrington sighs, shoulders drooping as he lifts his injured hand up to look down at it. He still hasn’t noticed Eddie in his spot by the pool.

“Trouble in the kingdom, your majesty?” he asks, jumping up from his cross-legged position on the pavement to saunter up to the other boy. He leans into his space, smiling coyly as Harrington leans back like he carries an airborne disease. “Anything this lowly court jester can do to help?”

He looks shocked at Eddie’s presence, like he never even considered that his decree wouldn’t be obediently followed by everyone in his backyard.

Eddie smirks, fishing in the pocket of his jean vest for his cigarettes. He taps one out, and holds it out–ever the consummate servant–to Harrington, who curls his lips up in disgust and takes a step back away from him. Eddie shrugs, stuffs the pack back into his pocket and fishes his lighter out of his jeans.

“Munson?” Harrington asks, squinting like he’s never seen Eddie before, despite living in the same janky town, and going to the same schools for the past five years. “Who invited you?”

Eddie takes his time lighting his cigarette and taking a drag, marveling as the little divot between Harrington’s eyebrows grows deeper with every passing second. He holds the smoke in, feeling it settle his nerves as he stares daringly into Harrington’s eyes. He doesn’t look away as he exhales, smoke blowing into Harringotn’s face. He doesn’t cough, just gestures his hand in front of his face impatiently to clear the smoke, looking one more insolent move away from smacking Eddie in the face.

“Someone has to sell party favors to Hawkins’ elite,” Eddie replies, shaking the lunchbox where it’s resting just below his hip.

Steve scoffs. “Well, the party’s just about over so why don’t you fuck off, man.”

He gestures behind him to the open gate. Eddie takes another drag, ashing his cigarette on the pristine concrete below him. Harrington balls up his fists before immediately releasing the tension with a wince, shaking out his injured hand.

“Looks like it’s in full swing to me.” Eddie gestures to the sliding glass door back into the dining room. The curtains are closed now, but Eddie can see the darkened silhouettes moving to the beat still pumping through the house.

“I’m kicking them out.”

Harrington crosses his arms, seemingly once again forgetting about the bloody state of his hand. He’s almost pouting now. Eddie has the insane urge to boop him on the nose. He takes another drag.

“Upset your little girlfriend wouldn’t put out?” he asks, jutting his bottom lip out, trailing a fake tear down his own cheek with his free hand. “Poor little rich boy.”

“What the fuck is your problem, man?”

“Me?” Eddie asks, dropping the burning filter of his cigarette to the ground and using the heel of his boot to smear it into the pavement. “I’m dandy. Who wouldn’t want the undivided attention of the King?”

He smiles then, condescending and bright, planting his feet as Harrington’s gaze darkens further.

“I always knew you were a freak,” Harrington snarls, drawing out the F sound like he’d rather use a different word that begins with the letter F.

“And a startling comeback from the King!” Eddie calls, showboating like he’s DMing for Hellfire in the dingy drama room. “How many F words did your Daddy teach you?”

Eddie didn’t realize that Harrington wasn’t angry before until all the light leaves his eyes. They go blank, soulless, like there’s no real person behind them. He uncrosses his arms, fists once again clenched, not even seeming to realize that it further splits his knuckles as he takes a threatening step forward. It’s a little scary, the way one question seems to have flipped him into an entirely different person.

Note to self, do not mention the absentee Father. Eddie takes a step back on reflex as Harrington uses his bloody finger to jab into his chest, hard enough to sting. Eddie looks down as blood smears, idly grateful that he’s wearing black.

“You have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about,” Harrington spits.

Eddie, having never learned to bite his tongue, opens his mouth to crow about this new F word in Harrington’s repertoire, when he hears a sound behind him.

It sounds almost like the foxes that sometimes chitter in the woods surrounding the trailer park. But there’s something wrong with it. It’s high pitched and cutting in and out, like a record skipping again and again. It’s staticy, reverberating behind him like the static of the television between channels but worse. A recording of television static sped up too fast and fed through three long distance phone calls.

Eddie’s hands tremble, something animalistic coursing through him at the sound–fight or flight kicking in with only one option left. In front of him, Harrington’s gone quiet, eyes wide and unblinking as he looks fixedly past Eddie’s left shoulder.

Then, abruptly, the sound cuts out, replaced with a guttural growling so deep he can feel it pulsing through his muscles, urging him to run. It unsticks his feet, but before he can dart through the open gate, or maybe to the shut sliding glass door to hunker down with the other party-goers, Harrington shoves him backward. Hard.

He loses his feet, loses his breath, until he’s choking on chlorinated water. He comes out of the water spluttering, coughing up water until it burns, his layers of clothing doing their best to drag him down into the bottom of the pool to drown.

His eyes are closed against their stinging, ears clogged with water where he’s struggling to tread in the deep end of Harrington’s stupid heated pool that the King himself just shoved him in.

It’s a low enough moment that Eddie can feel his mind covering up the impossibilities of the night, paving over the impossibilities to rewrite the story to make sense: King Steve saw him, set up some speakers to spook him, and then shoved him in the pool. Nothing unexpected there.

But then Eddie opens his eyes.

Harrington’s on the ground. Harrington’s on the ground fighting against the grip around his wrist, pulling him toward the water Eddie’s struggling to stay afloat in.

It’s not a person dragging him, not a practical joker wearing a suit. It can’t be. The thing is standing upright, sure, but it’s too tall, too thin, too featureless. Its forearms are uncannily long, fingers twisting and look as if they have too many joints facing the wrong directions where they curl around Harrington’s wrist, claws sharp enough to make him bleed. Its ribs are showing. And there’s no face at all, just creased flesh puckered together where a mouth ought to be.

At least, that’s what Eddie thinks until Harrington struggles harder, fingers of his free hand digging into the crack in the pavement, momentarily stalling their forward momentum. Then, the seams where its head connects open, like a flower toward the sun, if each petal was fleshy and covered in dozens of sharp looking teeth. And it screeches, ear-splitting and horrible, as if reprimanding Harrington for not laying imobile like a good little live meal.

It tosses Harington into the pool. He hits with a splash, immediately flailing out, smacking Eddie on the side of his face. Eddie reaches out on instinct to pull the guy toward him, trying to keep the both of them above the water line while Harrington reorients himself.

It shouldn’t have taken long. Harrington is the captain of the swim team. He should have been able to kick his feet under him and been off to the other end of the pool within seconds.

It wasn’t fast enough.

Eddie doesn’t even see it move, it’s so fast. He’s holding onto Harrington, arm slung around the other guy’s waist, clutching tightly at the front of his sweater. Then, Harrington’s being pulled forcefully to the bottom of the pool, Eddie along with him.

All of his orifices are burning from the chlorine–throat, nose, eyes, ears. He feels blind, deaf, lost, anchorless, except for the feel of Harrington’s skin beneath his hand, so he clutches, hooks his hand through the guy’s belt to keep his hold.

There’s a sensation, like meat parting around him. Then he’s breathing, sucking in oxygen, eyes still closed, head spinning. Harrington’s ribs are rising and falling rapidly. It lasts only a moment, the pair of them breathing and touching and panicking in tandem.

Until there’s that sound. Foxes chittering strangely, but it’s echoing now, weirdly like they’re in a cave forty feet underground.

Eddie opens his eyes. The sky looks wrong–darker than it should be, and it almost looks like it’s snowing. One of the flakes hits Eddie in the cheek and he rubs at the spot, feeling it flake apart and smear across his face. Not snow. Dust? Ash?

They’re in some sort of pit made of concrete, cracked under the force of the sickly vines crawling across its surface. It’s deep enough that Eddie’s not sure how they’re going to get out.

It’s not until he sees the ladder at the edge of the hole that he realizes where they are: impossibly, in the bottom of Harrington’s pool, somehow drained of water and decayed and made wrong, in a matter of seconds.

The chittering turns to a growl. Harrington jumps up. Eddie’s hand, where it’s still tucked into his belt, jerks violently up with him, pinky getting stuck between belt and pants as he hastily tries to extract it. Harrington darts away, and Eddie’s pinky pops. It’s barely audible beyond the growling, but he feels it as a release of pressure and then sharp pain.

Eddie looks down at his now free hand. There’s chaffing on his palms, and his pinky sits at an awkward angle, already swelling around the knuckle where it connects to his hand.

Nausea rolls through him–shock, maybe–at the sight. More than the pain, it looks like another wrong thing in a long line of wrongness that makes up his night, this time, attached to his own body. He heaves, water spilling out of his mouth, burning with chlorine as Eddie forces his eyes away from his hand.

Harrington’s across the pool, holding some sort of pole with a torn net at one end, thrusting it into the creature’s mouth, farther and farther. But the metal’s warping, almost decaying under the saliva in the thing's face, pole becoming shorter and shorter until It’s almost upon Harrington.

Without thought, Eddie jumps to his feet, stumbling behind the thing and bashing his lunchbox into its head.

It’s probably the surprise of the hit that makes the thing stumble. Harrington wastes no time, jabbing the rest of his pole, fast and deep into its maw. It wails, the strike fast enough to get through whatever was melting the metal, piercing something deep inside the thing.

Eddie’s not stupid enough to think it’ll stay down. He skirts around the thing, latching onto Harrington’s wrist and pulling him along in his wake. He doesn’t hear the pole clatter to the cement of the bottom of the pool, hoping that means they have a little more time, doesn’t dare turn around to look as Eddie drops Harrington’s wrist to climb, hand over aching hand, up the ladder and out of the pool.

Nothing looks better once he’s topside. The sky is still wrong, filled with ash and discolored light. There’s vines up here, too. And it’s quiet, so quiet he can hear every sound Harrington makes as he scrambles up the ladder behind him.

Eddie doesn’t wait for him. He runs, fast as he can to the sliding door to the house, wrenching it open and falling past the curtain into the house. He hopes, hysterically, that no one sees him making such a fool of himself, hopes somewhere deeper that someone does and will put themselves between his fleshy body and whatever comes through the door behind him.

But no one’s there. Harrington’s kitchen is dark, the living room past it dark as well, a disturbing red glowing faintly through closed curtains like he’s landing himself in a scene straight from Evil Dead. There’s no shadows of partygoers moving, no top forty, no drunk teenagers to spill beer on his shoes.

He stands, frozen, something horrific building in his throat, like a scream or a sob as he stares, unmoving, curtains moving against the small of his back until something slams through them, pushing him to the cold linoleum.

He pictures teeth, swears he hears a growl, but when he twists wildly from his prone position to scoot backwards on his ass, arms preemptively raised, he sees Harrington sliding the door closed and clicking the shitty plastic lock into place.

It's hilarious, like the thing they’d both seen back there would be stopped by a little piece of plastic, or doors, or the safety of his house. Eddie bites back a laugh that’s fighting its way up his throat like chlorine, burning and not where it’s supposed to be.

Harrington’s back is shaking with the force of his pants as he yanks the curtains closed. He pivots, face devoid of anything as he bends down and yanks Eddie up by his wrist hard enough to sting.

“Harrington, the people–” he starts, but his wrist is yanked harder as he’s led up carpeted stairs and into a bedroom.

Eddie gets only a sense of plaid and emptiness before he’s being shoved into a closet, Harrington stumbling in behind him and closing the doors quietly and squatting down next to where Eddie had fallen. The outside of their thighs are pressed together. Something hysterical bubbles up his throat again at the irony of the moment. He bites his lip against it.

Harrington’s feet are beneath him, ready to jump and fight anything that might follow them up here. Eddie can’t seem to get his ass on the floor, the lethargy of shock making him complacent, the knowledge that he’d never stand a chance if that thing makes it into the house making the effort of vigilance not seem worth it.

Harrington looks fierce, like he really is in a scary movie, an action hero, the final girl, the one who’ll get to the end of the movie by any means necessary. But Eddie can feel his body shaking where their legs are pressed together. Eddie gets the insane urge to hold his hand.

It feels like hours pass like this, Harrington at the ready, Eddie succumbing to his sleepy shock, before Harrington slowly lowers himself to sit on the ground beside Eddie, knee overlapping his as he sits crisscross, still looking at the door.

“Harrington, what–”

“I don’t know, Munson.” His voice is a sharp whisper, biting in its carelessness. He doesn’t even look away from the closet door.

“Your house is just empty, man.”

That gets him a scoff and a loosening roll of his shoulders as Harrington finally turns his head to the side and meets his eyes. Eddie tries not to notice the way it slides his thigh more firmly atop his own.

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Harrington demands, and for a moment, Eddie’s afraid he somehow heard his thoughts, another in a long line of indignities in this new world they’ve found themselves in, but he continues, “–the people? Not the flower monster that tried to eat us, or the red sky, or the shitty vines all over my house?”

“People means help! Who’s going to help us now?” Eddie demands, voice rising higher than it should. He swings his hand wildly, less of a gesture and more of a limb seizing with panic until it hits the closet’s wall with a hollow thwack, sending a bolt of pain from his pinkie finger down his wrist.

Harrington turns violently, almost climbing in Eddie’s lap in his bid to both cover his mouth and wrench his hand away from the wall and clutch it tightly in the space between their chests. Eddie bites his own lip at the pain of the squeeze. It’s dark, but he can see the way Harrington’s eyes are widened with fear, the whites too visible.

“Shut up,” he hisses, hand squeezing a little tighter around his cheeks.

They sit in the silence of the moment, staring at each other, ears straining for the sound of anything coming for them.

All is silent. Harrington’s hands ease away and he slowly shuffles out of Eddie’s space.

“Sorry,” Eddie says, almost reflexive.

Steve doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t turn away either. They’re still both staring at each other. Eddie’s too tense to feel awkward about it.

He sits in the silence. He’s never been good at it—the quiet. It eats at him, picks away at his skin until he’s back in a run-down apartment with a Father in jail and Mom gone from the room even as she rots away on the couch. The silence eats and eats and eats, until he can almost smell the mildew of the always-closed windows, can feel the springs of his old mattress digging uncomfortably into his back.

The springs prod him, and he blinks into the closet, Harrington’s finger jabbing into his side.

“Don’t crack on me now, Munson.” He’s not smiling.

“Aww,” he replies, trying to make his tone its usual cloying flirtation, “didn’t think you cared, your highness.”

He twists his mouth up at the side. It doesn’t quite land on a smirk—he can feel the way it wobbles. If Harrington notices, he doesn’t call him on it.

With a roll of his eyes, Harrington responds, “like you said, no people means no help, means you’re all I’ve got.”

“Don’t sound too happy about it,” Eddie mutters, but the house is too quiet and they’re sitting too close together.

Harrington scoffs, but he leans back further, settling fully on his ass for the first time since he’d dragged Eddie into the closet with him, like all he needs to feel at ease is Eddie being a dick to him. He’s not sure whether or not that’s infuriating or charming, but the knot in his throat that feels suspiciously like tears breaks loose when Harrington leans back on the heels of his hands.

There’s something to the ease of Harrington in this moment that makes Eddie wonder if he’s ever actually seen him at ease before. When Eddie had watched him across the lunch room, eyes unwillingly drawn to the jocks table, his shoulders were always relaxed, mouth always turn up at the corners, but there was still something so stiff about him. Eddie’s not sure he’s ever seen him lean back like this.

It's almost like, without eyes on him—or with only Eddie’s—his body has gone ragamuffin. A marionette with all it’s strings cut. It’s like. Like—

It’s like hiding from a horrific Lovecraftian monster in the alternative dimension version of his own closet with Eddie Fucking Munson is the first time Steve Harrington has felt comfortable in his own skin. Either that, or Eddie’s spiraling.

“Stop staring at me, man,” Harrington says, draping a hand over his eyes to block out the nonexistent light.

It’s only then that Eddie realizes he has been staring. He snaps his gaze to the floor, running his fingers through the soft shag of Harrington’s fancy carpet. It’s things like this that got him marked as queer within weeks of moving here.

“What’re we gonna do, man?” Eddie asks, like a broken record.

Harrington sighs, drooping further into the carpet. “I vote we go to sleep and hope this was all a bad dream.”

And as if his word had been decreed, Harrington stretches out as much as he can in the confined space, using a pile of dirty clothes as a pillow, and closes his eyes. The side of his leg ended up pressed across the entire side of Eddie’s thigh.

Eddie stares, struck dumb by the audacity of Harrington checking out in a moment like this. When his silence gets no reaction, he slumps down, dragging his cheek into the soft carpet as Harrington slumbers beside him. It feels like hours until he falls asleep.

Part 2

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #st fic #steddie upsidedown au #my fic

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frankenkyle19 · 7 months

Text

The Twinkie Thief

Peter Maximoff x fan!reader smut

word count: 8.4k!!

warnings/description: Smut, handjobs, oral (male and fem receiving), Use of peter’s powers in bed, hair pulling, begging, Peter being a cocky brat, teasing. Reader hosts a college party and a certain speedster stops by trying to steal some twinkies… Enjoy!

You’d been planning this party for months. Well- okay not months, maybe like… a few weeks, but in your defense it sure felt longer than that. It was your first time hosting a college party, despite being in your third year. You shared an apartment with three of your friends just off of campus. Having roommates wasn’t always great, but it made the rent cheap and that obviously made it well worth it. You were a broke college student and you definitely didn’t make enough money to rent your own apartment. It was a three level house. With a main floor, an upstairs, and a downstairs. The basement had been transformed into a little hangin’ cave where you were currently setting up the chips and drinks for the party, trying to distract yourself and keep your buzzing nerves at bay.

Doritos, pretzels, tortilla chips and salsa, various sodas and punch as well as alcohol sat on the table. Beer, vodka, all the cheap shit you could buy at the nearest gas station. It didn’t need to be good, college kids didn’t care for good alcohol, they just needed it to get them drunk. Especially at a party.

You weren’t sure who all would come to the party and a bubble of anxiety slowly built up inside you. What if no one showed up? Currently you were home alone because your roommates were all out doing their own thing and would be coming home much later. That’s why you had decided to have the party, but now? What if some creepy pervert dude was the first to arrive and you were forced to hang out with him until the next person came? You tried your best to ignore the screaming in the back of your mind as you finished setting up, taking a handful of chips to eat as you made your way back up the stairs.

The house was modern and sparsely decorated but still homey. You’d luckily put away anything valuable or breakable because god forbid something gets broken.

As time went on you came to the realization that maybe this wasn’t the best idea… but it was too late to go back now. Surely it’d be fine. How bad could it be?

You finished the handful of chips right as the first knock of the night sounded through the house, causing you to jump a bit before making your way towards the door, just praying it wasn’t some creep.

And luckily, it wasn’t.

It was a group of three younger college girls, all smiling brightly the second the door was open. They didn’t say much to you as they scurried inside the house, out of the cold as they shivered a bit. They led themselves downstairs, talking amongst themselves and not really paying you any mind at all. Wow. Kinda rude.

Soon the pace started picking up and in no time the basement was full of chatter and bodies as people laughed and drank, talking about the latest gossip.

You’d long since abandoned your post at the door, figuring people would let themselves in, and they did exactly that.

You had made your way downstairs, a drink in hand as you looked at the crowd. It was a good turnout, nearly every corner of the dimly lit room was occupied by groups of people talking about one thing or another, sipping from solo cups and snacking on mini pretzels and Doritos. The sight had you smiling. This was going exactly how you wanted it.

To be honest, you weren’t a super social person but one thing you did enjoy was people watching. So seeing all the different people here made for a fun activity. Hearing whispers of conversations, not able to make out much as other noises drowned out the words into a jumbled mess of sounds. You were planning on just sitting in a corner, sipping your drink for the rest of the night as you kept a close eye on the party goers, making sure they didn’t break anything.

That’s how it went for a few hours. You sipped at your drink, going in and out of the basement to get refills on chips and ice for the drinks every so often. Overall, it was a success.

On one of these trips upstairs to get a break from the crowd and the noise, you caught the shadow of what appeared to be a man in your kitchen. Unease settled over you like a dark storm cloud as you crept closer to the kitchen, back up against the wall as you swallowed hard, heartbeat uneven and frantic.

You knew it was most likely someone from the party who had either gotten there late, or had snuck upstairs. Maybe he needed a break. Just like you. But the idea of a random man in your kitchen, which, keep in mind, was dark, made you uneasy.

You crept to the entrance of the kitchen, hand moving slowly towards the light switch, ready to bolt back downstairs if you were in any danger.

The man froze when you flicked the light on, bathing him in the yellow light. And that’s when you saw it..

It wasn’t some random creeper that had snuck into your kitchen and was waiting for everyone else to leave so he could like- kill you-

It was a certain silver haired mutant superhero that you may or may not have had a small (huge) obsession with.

Peter Maximoff… aka Quicksilver.

Okay rewind- what in the fresh hell was Peter Maximoff doing in your kitchen?

You both just stood still, staring at each other unblinking, each waiting for the other to say or do something.

Peter had an armful of little, wrapped cake snacks that had been quite literally stolen from your pantry, giving you a shy, remorseful smile.

“Uh… Hi-” Peter said, swallowing hard as he set the snacks on the counter with an embarrassing grin.

You just blinked a few times, unable to think of any words. What does someone say in this situation? When a literal superhero was stealing snacks from your kitchen. Nothing in your life had ever prepared you for this..

“I- Hi?” You said, an eyebrow quirked as you took in the look of the man in front of you. Yup it really was him. Not just some creep dressed as him. He was the real deal.

“You can uh- you can take anything you want… Mr. Maximoff” You said with a shy smile, playing with your hands as you tried to keep calm.

Peter blinked in surprise. Oh. So you knew exactly who he was. Great. Of course you did. That made this even more embarrassing. A superhero sneaking into a party to steal some cake snacks? He would never live this down if anyone else found out.

“No I just- uh- was just- organizing… the pantry. It was a bit messy..” he said, trying to lie his way out of the situation.

“Mhm. Yeah okay.” You put your hands on your hips, shaking your head. You didn’t believe that lie for one second and the thought of a silver haired speedster trying to get away with a lie despite being caught red (silver?) handed made you chuckle.

“Okay okay ya got me- I’m a thief-“ he raised his hands over his head in surrender, sighing in defeat. The gig was up.

You raised a brow, watching him curiously. He was so… Down to earth? You weren’t sure what you expected, but it wasn’t that. He didn’t act like a famous person… he just acted… Normal. Maybe you were a bit naive as to what someone like Peter should act like, but he was definitely much different than what you had imagined. In a good way of course.

And it didn’t help with your obsession with him. You almost wanted him to be rude or full of himself. It’d be easier to get over this little (big) obsession with him. But no. Of course he had to be perfect.

“It’s okay- if you want one you can have it- really-“ you said, taking a few more steps into the kitchen, the background music from downstairs making the silence between the two of you seem not so awkward.

Peter didn’t waste any time after that. He snatched a Twinkie off the counter and unwrapped it before shoving half of it into his mouth, some of the cream smearing on the sides of his mouth. If it was anyone else, it would be kinda gross, but because it was him, it was endearing.

“So why exactly are you… Here?” You asked and Peter held up a finger to signal to let him finish chewing the snack cake before he began to explain.

“I heard about a party goin’ on here and thought hey, I’m sure there’s snacks. So I came. And I was right.” He shook the other half of the Twinkie that was in his hands before shoving it into his mouth, tossing the wrapper into the trash can and wiping off his fingers on his silver jacket.

“Okay but the party is downstairs-“

“I didn’t think you’d mind if I just took a few.” He interrupted, already on his way to opening another hostess snack.

He was bold. Very bold. And pretty cocky too. A drastic change from how he was acting just a few minutes ago. All shy and apologetic. Was that just a hoax? A trick?

“I mean- I don’t- but it’s not just every day when I get a superhero in my kitchen.”

“So you rent this place? It’s pretty bangin’ I gotta say.”

“I have roommates. But they aren’t here right now.” Why did that sound so suggestive? Jesus Christ…

Peter nodded, looking around the kitchen and examining it now that the light was on, leaning against the marble counter.

“So this is your party then I take it?” He asked, eyebrow quirked as he turned back to face you. It was weird making eye contact with the speedster just because you never expected to actually be this close to him.

“Mhm, my first college party actually..” you said a bit shyly. He was trying to keep up a conversation with you… but why? Did he actually care? Possibly?

“First?”

“Well the first one I’ve hosted I mean- I’ve- I’ve been to lots of parties before-“ you paused “not like a lot a lot! I’m not like a crazy party person- I have…” you wanted to bang your head against the wall.

“I’ve gone to the normal amount of parties that a college person does.” You said, a blush dusting over your cheeks. Way to embarrass yourself in front of your crush. Your superhero crush at that…

“Coolio- and hey, between us, I don’t judge. I like party girls.” Peter winked.

Your brain has just short circuited. Either you were delusional or the man was flirting with you. The way he winked? There was no way.

You gawked at him for a moment before chuckling “yeah, hah… parties are pretty fun- you go to them often?” You asked curiously, trying to not be so fucking awkward.

“Eh, depends. When I’m free I usually just zoom in to steal some snacks- which was exactly what I was doing before you caught me.”

“Okay well the party snacks are downstairs. At the party.” You said, sarcasm dripping from your tone and it caused Peter to grin. He liked your attitude. Feisty. Just the way he liked his women. Not that he… No.. He totally wasn’t attracted to some random quicksilver fan.. Not at all. There had to be some sort of moral rule against that.

Except… He was. He was totally and utterly attracted to you.

Holy shit. He was truly and utterly fucked. Done for. Game is up, time to go- before he royally ruined this whole interaction.

But yet, he couldn’t get his mouth to just shut up.

“Y’know what, I like ya. You’re down to earth, chill. Totally unfazed that I’m in yer kitchen right now.”

You shook your head, looking up to meet his eye and trying not to get too lost in his sweet syrupy brown gaze.

“Well I mean- I am- I’m just good at hiding it.” You admitted, tucking a bit of your hair behind your ear, an obvious thing you did when you were nervous.

Peter subtly, with his super speed, looked you over, trying not to make it too obvious that he was staring, but who wouldn’t? You were… Geesh words couldn’t even describe the way Peter felt when he saw you. His literal dream girl, and you were interested in him? At least wanting to talk to him… not like… romantically or anything crazy like that.

But you were. You were both acting pretty dumb at the moment, dancing around the sexual tension that literally anyone could cut with a knife. How did it happen that the two of you were so damn oblivious? It’s like the universe was holding up a big sign that said “Fuck Already!” And somehow the two of you were both blind.

Peter stretched his hands over his head, revealing a sliver of silver hairs that led under his waistband to-

No. You needed to get your mind out of the gutter. There was no way Quicksilver out of anyone was going to fuck you. No way. Not in a million years.

Peter zipped around the kitchen and for a moment you thought he’d left, until the breeze and silver settled and you saw him, now much closer than he was before.

He was uncomfortably close, but you were… Okay with it. In fact you wanted him close to you. It had made your heartbeat speed up in your chest and your cheeks reden.

You felt his breath on your neck and it made your hair stand on end, goosebumps erupting across your flesh as you turned to face him.

He was taller than you, but your faces were only several inches apart, the feeling of his breath hit you, the leftover smell of the Twinkie he’d devoured a few minutes ago hitting your nose.

You blinked a few times, unsure of what to do or what to say. I mean… What do you do in a situation like this? You’d never experienced it before and doubted you ever would again.

Peter glanced down at you, unblinking as he watched you before he spoke up

“Want a drink?” He asked, swallowing hard as he gestured to the rest of the alcohol that you hadn’t brought down to the party yet.

The tension was getting impossibly thicker between the two of you, a heat seeming to fall off of Peter in thick waves, filling the air. It was addicting.

You nodded, still not speaking as you watched him zip back around the kitchen, barely able to make out his outline as bottles shifted and moved from their places.

He was so… Interesting and you wondered what it was like to be able to move that fast. Did he have full control over it? Did he sometimes go too fast? Had he ever hurt himself by speeding around the way he did? These were all questions you longed to be answered but were too shy to ask.

A few more seconds of him zooming around the kitchen and he was next to you again, holding a drink in either hand. You weren’t really sure what was in it, but you trusted he hadn’t done anything suspicious. I mean he was a superhero- superheroes didn’t like- drug drinks… Right?

“Here, it’s a sex on the beach- or well, my attempt at one. You didn’t have all the ingredients so I had to substitute a few things.”

By a few things did he mean everything? You’d had plenty of these drinks before and none of them ever looked the way the drink he held out to you did. It looked (smelled) like the only ingredient the two drinks had in common was vodka.

Still, you took the glass from him and smiled, taking a sip. It wasn’t horrible, he hadn’t added a lot of alcohol so it was mostly a mixer, but still you’d had plenty worse before.

He sipped his own drink, watching you over the rim of the glass, waiting to see how you’d react.

“Decent.” You shrugged, taking another sip.

Peter laughed in disbelief “Just decent babe? Wow, I’m offended.” He placed a hand on his heart dramatically and shook his head.

You were about to laugh when it dawned on you what he’d called you just now. Babe. Uhm.. pause. What? Why had he called you that? Did he call everyone that? Surely he did… Don’t get your hopes up so quickly. He was just being friendly.

You ignore it, giving him a friendly smile before taking another sip of your drink. Maybe it’d be nice to get drunk but you’d surely make a fool of yourself. You were already well on the way to doing that.

“So- you were really just in the neighborhood and decided to stop by?” You asked, swirling the remaining drink around, watching it slosh inside the glass.

Peter set his drink down on the counter, leaning against it as he nodded “Yup, could tell it was a party from a mile off so I decided to see what was goin’ on. Glad I did, you’re good company.” He grinned.

“I was honestly having a pretty boring night before you got here.” You admitted, setting your own half finished drink down close to his before glancing back at him. You were beginning to let your guard down and it made Peter smile.

“Aw I'm flattered that I’m the reason you’re havin’ a good time now.” He grinned, full of himself and cocky as ever.

You rolled your eyes playfully at him, shaking your head as you wrapped your arms around yourself, glancing around the kitchen.

“So uh- m’not usually like this but-“ He was blushing again… Quicksilver was blushing because of you? What was he trying to say that made his cheeks turn the color of ripe tomatoes?

“I’m catchin’ a vibe off ya. Y’know the whole fan thing- I just-“ He shook his head, bringing a hand down over his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he let out a sigh. Dammit Quickie, ruined it again from your big mouth.

At least… He thought he’d ruined it, and was so distracted by embarrassment that he hadn’t even noticed you’d stepped closer to him, standing right in front of him and staring up at him.

“Yeah, I’m sure I’m giving off that vibe-“ you took a deep breath and decided to continue, making a bolder choice of words. It was now or never.

“Not everyday you meet the person you dream about fucking every night.” You were only half teasing him, hoping you’d be able to play it off as a joke if it went the wrong way.

Peter’s eyes were wide as he stared down at you and finally he made a good choice that night, leaning down to capture your lips with his own.

It took you several seconds to process but when you did, you nearly squealed with joy.

He tasted sweet like twinkies and just… Him. There was no other way to explain it really.

You kissed back for several seconds before pulling away to look up at him, eyes wide.

“Holy shit.” You whispered, glancing around the room once more to make sure no one had walked in on the two of you.

Peter, unbothered, leaned down to capture your lips once more, never wanting to stop kissing you. He deepened the kiss, a hand reaching out to rest on your shoulder as he pulled you closer, a quiet moan slipping from his lips which caused him to blush even further.

He pulled you closer to him, a bit of urgency in his movements as he panted against your lips, worked up from the slightest bit of kissing.

“Quicksilver- n-not here we can’t. There’s people downstairs-“ you said, a surprised gasp leaving your throat as he started to plant kisses to your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist to lock you in place.

“Tell ‘em to go. I need ya-“ he said, nipping ever so slightly at your collarbone as his hips connected with yours, his hard on brushing your leg.

“Okay okay okay slow down- is this really happening?” You asked, Peter never once stopping his assault on your neck, leaving marks that would surely result in bruises the next day.

“So fuckin’ real baby. I want it- if you do too-“ He added, his hands adventuring up the small of your back in an attempt to explore more of your body.

“Ya tellin’ me you don’t wanna clown around with yer favorite superhero?” He breathed against your neck, closing his eyes as he inhaled deeply, wanting to memorize this moment.

“I do! I do want to- very very badly I just-there’s so many people downstairs- I don’t know what to do about that.” You said, reveling in the way his hot breath fanned across your skin.

“I’ve got an idea-“ He mumbled “just tell ‘em the cops are coming and they gotta clear out. Easy peasy baby, then we got the whole place to ourselves.” He grinned against your skin, much too eager for this.

“You think that’ll work?”

“Worth a shot at least.” He shrugged, groaning as you pulled away from him to face the basement door, ready to barge down there and tell everyone to leave. You’d do whatever you needed to to get Peter alone.

Peter, as impatient as he was, didn’t wait for you to handle it and instead zoomed downstairs in a blur and several moments later people were running up the stairs, drinks in hand, obviously caught up in the moment and not expecting the news that police were going to be there any second.

The last person up the stairs was Peter himself, grinning from ear to ear, obviously proud that his plan had worked and the two of you were now alone. The second the last guest had scurried out the door, the threat of police crashing the party more than enough to get their drunk asses moving, peter pulled you into a bruising kiss, arching his hips against yours to try and get any desperately needed friction on his aching cock confined in the fabric prison that was his pants and boxers. He’d never wanted to be naked more in his entire life. Okay- maybe he had- but right now he felt as if he hadn’t.

Your tongues fought for dominance and you inevitably won, backing Peter up against the kitchen counter before sinking to your knees. You were not wasting a second. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and with just how fast Peter moved, you weren’t sure how long you’d realistically have him here for. How often did you get to meet your idol and fuck him? The thought made your head spin. Like holy shit? Holy fucking shit.

“Woahhh mama-“ Peter ran a large hand over his face, his dark pupils blown so wide that his eyes were nearly black as he watched you, his brain still trying to grasp the situation in which he was in. A quicksilver fan getting on their knees in front of him? Holy shit, someone pinch him. There was just no way this was actually happening. Like in all the years of his life he had never experienced something like this. Despite what some may think, Peter didn’t get laid a lot. He either didn’t have the time, or didn’t have the charm. And he was sure that realistically, this could have some serious repercussions.. Having sex with a fan? There weren’t any laws against that, right? Right? Fuck it, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Especially not with how eager you were.

You pulled his pants down to his knees, instantly scooting closer and mouthing over the cotton of his boxers, your tongue tracing the large length of him as he mewled above you pathetically. He was hot against you as you nuzzled your cheek against the length of him, a string of pre-cum leaked through his boxers and stained your cheek with a sticky, opaque fluid.

“Holy shit- can’t believe this is actually happening to me right now-“ he mumbled, hands going behind him to clutch the cold, marble counter his back was up against. Thank god for it. His legs were so shaky he was barely able to keep himself up and the embarrassing thing was you hadn’t even really done anything yet. Keep it together dude.

You pulled his boxers down in one quick motion, his cock springing to full attention now that it had been freed. He was hard as a rock, twitching and throbbing red, pre-cum spilling from the tip as it bobbed in the air, right in front of your face. Peter inhaled sharply at the cold air against his bare cock, but the second your warm hand wrapped around him? He was a goner. Total goner. Like thank the gods above? It felt sooo fucking good. Like… Too good.

“O-oh geez-“ He involuntarily jutted his hips into your touch, causing his cock to slide through the tight grip of your fingers with how slick it had become.

You made eye contact with the speedster above you before leaning closer, licking over the head of his cock, collecting the pearl of pre-cum that had leaked from the slit, dripping down the side.

He was salty and a bit bitter, but the sheer fact that you were getting to taste the Peter Maximoff’s cock made any disgust you may have initially had fly right out the damn window.

Peter’s knees buckled the slightest bit, thighs quivering as he watched you with a kind of intensity and focus he didn’t even know he possessed. So he could focus. Just… only on things he really wanted to. Hah… As long as you didn’t tell any of the other X-men that.

You continued your exploration of the speedy mutant's cock, pressing gentle feather light kisses to the head of his cock, which you soon learned was extremely sensitive.

“Mmm- please! Gentle! It’s so sensitive, baby!” He yelped, writhing in place as his knuckles turned white from how hard he was gripping the countertop.

You ignored his requests, wanting to see just how worked up you could get him, your tongue tracing around the bulbous head several times before dipping into the slit, causing Peter to wince in overstimulation. You took this as a sign to pull back a bit, instead taking the whole tip into your mouth, sucking on it like a lollipop, flattening your tongue on the underside as you hummed.

Peter spiraled even more. The way you looked up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently as you suckled on his cock? When was he going to wake up? Because there was just really no way that this was actually happening. It had to be a dream.

“A-mmgh- shit-“ he groaned out, running a hand through his now damp with sweat silver hair, slicking it back in a way that was more attractive than you’d like to admit.

You slowly took more of him into your mouth, inhaling through your nose so you didn’t choke, and soon enough you had fully engulfed him before pulling back, gagging a bit as the tip hit the back of your throat. A string of spit connected your lips to the head of his cock and Peter nearly came right then and there at the sight, hips subconsciously humping the air as he threw his head back, Adam's apple bobbing.

“God baby- this is so fucking unbelievably good- god damn-“ he panted, babbling words as his hips arched upwards in search of your mouth once more. You pulled back from him completely, watching as his throbbing red cock bobbed in the air between you two, desperate and aching for whatever you planned to do next.

Peter inhaled a deep breath, straightening up a bit as he got a better grip on the counter, some of his damp silver hair falling back over his forehead.

Coming back to stroke him with your hand, Peter’s hips jerked once more, biting his bottom lip between his teeth in an attempt to stay quiet, despite not needing to. It was just the two of you alone in the house. He could be as loud as he wanted.

“Really? That’s all ya got, speedy? Tiny little whimpers? C’mon I want to hear more.” You surprised yourself with your boldness, and it obviously surprised Peter too by the way that he nodded, letting his lip fall from between his teeth as a pleasured sigh left him. It was finally sinking in that this was really happening to him. He was getting head from a super mega quickie fan. And damn you were good at it. Too good. Or maybe Peter was just that desperate. It was honestly a little embarrassing but you obviously didn’t care so he didn’t either.

You stroked him with increasing speed, thumbing gently over the tip and collecting the pre-cum on the pad of your thumb before bringing it up to your lips and licking off the glossy liquid. Peter groaned, cursing under his breath at the sight below him, a hand coming to brush through your hair gently, giving him something to do to keep his hands busy.

“Can’t believe this is happening. I’m actually getting to do this to the Quicksilver-“ You shook your head, still in a state of disbelief

“Y’can call me Peter y’know- please-“ He chuckled breathily, hand still gripping your hair as he tried to subconsciously pull your head closer to his length, a quiet mumbled plea coming from his red lips. Okay. Noted. Peter.

“More- please? Feels so good, baby- feels so fucking great-“ He pleaded with you, giving you the cutest puppy dog eyes. You didn’t take him for a begger, but you were definitely not complaining. And of course who were you to deny him? He did so much good for the world, he’d literally helped save it multiple times, hadn’t he? He deserved this, plus, his taste was addicting. Manly and a bit salty in a way that had your pussy throbbing in your underwear.

You took him into your mouth again, suckling on the tip before going further once more, suctioning your lips around his length, dragging your tongue on the underside of his cock, tracing the prominent vein that was found there.

Peter tossed his head back once more, closing his eyes as he moaned, this time a bit louder than before. It made you smile around his cock.

You continued your exploration of his cock, bobbing your head up and down before focusing on the tip for a few moments and then repeating over and over and over-

Peter was growing increasingly worked up, chest heaving up and down heavily, cock beginning to twitch in your mouth as you gagged on him, tearing up as you inhaled through your nose.

“I’m close! F-fuck!” He groaned out, hips bucking farther into your mouth as he gripped your hair a bit tighter, causing you to let out a whine and choke even more around him, tears falling onto your cheeks, mascara smudging under your eyes as you swallowed around him.

That was all he needed to cum hard down your throat in heavy ropes of thick white, his hips jutting forward harshly, causing him to slide even further into your mouth and down your throat.

“Fuck! Shitttt!” He cursed, gasping as he shuddered, thighs shaking as he fought to keep himself up right. Damn. He hadn’t came that hard in… Well he couldn’t even remember when. But it had been a long time. Too long.

You pulled back, the biggest gag yet coming from you, the feeling of his cock so deep in your throat and his cum filling the back of your mouth causing you to retch. You held onto his thighs as you tried to catch your breath, wheezing heavily, head bowed as you attempted to swallow all his release. Dear god, he came a lot. Maybe it had something to do with his mutant powers, or maybe it was just the fact that he came a lot. Either way it amazed you.

Once Peter caught his own breath and calmed down enough to come back to his senses, he glanced down at you with a worried look, watching you attempt to catch your breath.

“Shit- you okay? Sorry I- kinda lost control- I’m so sorry-“ he apologized, worried he’d ruined the whole moment by not being able to control his damn hips. A crimson flush covered his cheeks as he looked away, embarrassed. Great. His one chance to get laid had been ruined by his actions. Like everything else in his life.

“Peter-“ your voice was a bit hoarse as you swallowed hard, wiping the corners of your mouth as you stood up, dusting off your thighs as you cupped his cheek.

Peter’s attention was on you again in an instant, tilting his head ever so slightly into your palm. Peter was touch starved. Extremely so, but it was something he wouldn’t ever admit. Not that he really needed to, it was pretty obvious.

“I’m okay. It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize. It was actually really fucking hot. Watching you lose control like that.” You blushed softly at your own words, giving him a shy smile despite being so bold in your previous actions.

Peter was quiet for several moments and if anyone walked in on the two of you right then, they’d see you standing in front of Peter, and Peter, pants down, leaning against the countertop as he stared at you longingly.

“Uh- anyway I can return the favor?” He asked, large hands coming to hold your hips, a subtle buzz seeming to come from his body. Specifically from his hands. It made you shiver, your already wet panties seeming to soak even more at his words that were dripping with lust. You were much too curious about those hands of his and what they could do. Especially with that power…

You pulled him into a kiss, practically jumping on him as he pulled you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as you made out with the silver haired man. Honestly, if someone came up to you and told you this was how this night was going to end, you wouldn’t believe it. Not one bit, but the fact that it was actually happening? That this wasn’t a dream? You were fucking around with someone you were quite honestly obsessed with? It made your head spin.

He stumbled down the hall, kicking his feet out of his pants and boxers as he held onto you tightly, his blunt nails digging into the meat of your ass as he brought you to your bedroom. You weren’t sure how exactly he knew which one was yours, and chalked it up to him snooping around when he first got here. His superspeed made things like that easy.

He practically tossed you onto the bed, kissing any inch of your exposed skin before he pulled your shirt off, laughing a bit as it briefly got stuck around your neck before it was thrown… Somewhere. It’s location wasn’t important right now when you had Peter right in front of you.

Peter’s eyes zoned into the way your breasts bounced with each laugh of yours, looking so totally perfect in the black bra you were wearing.

“Sorry- obviously didn’t think this was gonna happen tonight so it’s not special or anything-“ you said, speaking about the bra.

Peter scoffed at your words, shaking his head in disbelief “you kidding? Have you seen yourself? God you’re a masterpiece. Really-“ His hands came up to cup your breasts in each palm over your bra and you mewled lightly at the contact.

“Peterrr'' you groaned, wriggling around underneath him. Your words seemed to snap him out of his boob induced trance and he refocused once more. Eye on the prize, Peter. The prize just so being the beautiful mound between your legs. Well, Peter didn’t really know that it was beautiful since you were still wearing pants, but he could just tell. Maybe another, more secret super power he had? Or just common sense.

Peter, ever the speedster sped your jeans down your legs and off your body before you could even blink, settling comfortably between your thighs before tossing his own shirt off. Finally, Peter was fully naked and you were pretty close to being so as well.

“So uh I won’t say I’m like.. A master or anything but I’d like to return the favor. Like I said.” Peter's eyes were dark as he slid further down the bed before he was face to face with your sopping wet panties.

He brushed the pads of his fingers against the wet fabric, shocked that he’d had that effect on you. Holy shit, you were this wet for him?

The second he touched you, you closed your eyes, tossing your head back. You weren’t sure if you just really needed to be laid, or if it was the fact that it was Peter Maximoff barely touching you that got you going. Either way, you were desperate and didn’t plan on waiting much longer.

“Please don’t tease-“ You breathed out, already out of breath as you watched him, begging for him to just do something already! This was torture! Why was he going so slow!

Peter sensed your need and decided it’d be rude to tease. Especially considering how generous you’d been with the blowjob in the kitchen. Something he certainly wouldn’t be forgetting anytime soon. He pulled your panties to the side, nearly drooling at the sight of your pussy right in front of him.

He licked his lips, swallowing his excess drool as he hooked his fingers under the waistband of the small black panties and pulling them slowly down your legs.

Your breathing increased exponentially when he tossed them off your legs and spread your thighs wider to give him better access to you.

Blushing in embarrassment, you weren’t able to meet Peter’s eye. This was really happening? You were about to be eaten out by The Quicksilver-

That was mind blowing to you, just like the rest of the night had been. You’d have to host more college parties in the future if this is what you got in return.

A subtle buzzing had started on your thighs, slowly creeping closer to your core and you soon realized it was Peter’s fingertips, buzzing gently as they crept closer and closer to where you needed him most.

You opened your mouth to beg again but any words you had died in your throat as his nose brushed against your clit, causing a sharp burst of pleasure to run up your spine.

“Ahhhh Quicksilver- Peter-“ you quickly corrected yourself, remembering he had said you could call him that. That he in fact wanted you to.

Peter grinned at your response to the slightest touch, brushing his nose across your folds again before blowing a cold burst of air over your core that caused you to shiver.

“Stop!” You suddenly shouted, a pout set on your lips “stop teasing me! Please! I didn’t do this to you! This isn’t fair!”

“Who ever said anything about me playing fair, baby? I mean me? Fair? Those two words should never be used in the same sentence.”

This cocky side of Peter was hot, but you also found it hot that the hunger in his eyes never once subsided, a hint of desperation hiding behind his bratty, full of himself demeanor.

He did eventually decide that maybe he was being too mean with his teasing and finally let his lips brush against your clit, his tongue flicking across the hardened bud before sucking it into his mouth gently, humming the whole time.

Your body seized in pleasure, trying not to crush him between your thighs as he played with you to his heart's content.

He began to finally eat you out the way he should have all along, messy and fast, making sure to give extra attention to your puffy clit.

Your back was arched and your eyes were closed, head thrown back against your pillows. Your chest heaved heavily with each brush of his tongue against your core, a pleasure building up in your belly so fast that despite him only being at it for a few minutes, you were already embarrassingly close.

And that sense of being close was only amplified when Peter, cocky sex god he was, brought the pad of his thumb to your clit, rubbing gentle circles around it before he began to vibrate that thumb, a dull buzzing sound filling your ears.

You had barely any time to warn him of your impending release before your toes were curling and your thighs tightened around his silver head of hair, locking him in tightly.

Peter smirked against you, letting you ride through your orgasm before pulling away from you, his lips shimmering with your release.

He quickly licked them clean, grinning from ear to ear as he crawled over you, pulling you into a kiss.

You panted against his lips before finally kissing back, taking a fist full of his hair and yanking ever so slightly. Not enough to hurt him by any means.

You didn’t expect the reaction that followed. Peter whimpered, leaning into the touch as he bucked his hips against you ever so slightly, his hard on brushing the plush of your thighs.

You grinned against his lips, nipping at his bottom lip gently, running your hands through his hair a bit more.

He pulled away just a bit to meet your eye, his own blown wide, a sheen of sweat covering his forehead as he swallowed hard.

“You got like- y’know- a condom?” He asked, a blush covering his cheeks. Sweet boy. Still shy even after everything the two of you had done so far.

“Like I mean-“ he continued, blabbering on, “My pull out game is pretty good- I’m fast-“ he laughed at his choice of words. Of course he was fast, that was his whole thing.

“But it’d be nice just in case- to not have to worry about it, y’know? Just bask in the moment. Plus it’d be pretty hot to cum inside. Even with a condom.” He shivered at the thought, cock twitching and oh so ready to be inside of you.

You laughed softly and reached over into your bedside drawer, rifling around for a few seconds before you found what you were looking for, pulling your hand back and showing off the shiny package to Peter.

He went to grab it from you but you pulled it away, shaking your head “can I put it on?” You asked, looking him over.

Peter seemingly got even more shy at that, blushing harder as he nodded “yeah- yeah course ya can, mhm that’s fine that’s-“ You cut him off with a kiss, cupping his cheek gently.

“You don’t do this often do you?” You asked, running the pad of your thumb across his cheek, hot to the touch from how hard he was blushing.

He shook his head in embarrassment. God, Quicksilver himself didn’t get around, despite how much he wanted it. It just… Didn't happen. Nothing he could do about it really. It wasn’t for lack of trying, so when you seemed so eager, he was more than ready to get down with you.

You ripped the condom out of its wrapper with your teeth and Peter thought it was the hottest thing ever, eyes wide as he watched you, completely mesmerized. There was just something about you that seemed to draw him in.

You carefully wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking him slowly as he let his hips gently buck into the feeling, burying his face in your shoulder.

You continued like that for a few moments, enjoying the way Peter’s body shivered against your own and how his moans and whines got increasingly more desperate.

You brought the condom to the tip of his cock and slowly rolled it down, making sure it was on correctly before giving him a few more firm strokes.

Peter groaned against you, pulling from your neck to look you over. You’d never expected that this could be so gentle, especially with someone you really didn’t know.

“You can put it in, baby.” You whispered, wondering if that’s what he was waiting for. Confirmation. Proof that you actually did really want this as much as he did. You definitely did.

He swallowed thickly, heartbeat fluttering heavy in his chest as he positioned himself at your entrance, letting the head of his cock slide against your slit a few times, causing the both of you to moan softly.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to go further, unable to wait anymore. The idea of him inside you made your breath catch in your throat. The Quicksilver was about to be inside of you. Peter.

Peter Peter Peter was all you could think. This whole time you’d been obsessed with the superhero aspect of the man without really thinking that just him himself could be perfect.

He locked eyes with you as his tip breached your hole, and after that he sunk in easily thanks to your slick. He didn’t stop till he was balls deep inside of you, his lips inches from your own as he panted, adjusting to the warm tight feeling of your walls squeezing around him.

Peter groaned against your skin, hands clenched in the sheets at your sides, trying to steady himself as he let you adjust to his size.

He was big and it was a bit uncomfortable at first but the stretch was more than welcome and you found yourself trying to pull him deeper, needing more than what he was giving you in the moment.

“Peter please-“ you choked out “Need more- I’m ready- please-“

“I’m gonna rock your world, babe.” Was all he said before he thrust into you, finding a nice rhythm that was fast, but not so fast that you couldn’t physically handle it.

You were glad now that the party had ended and the two of you were alone so you could be as loud as you wanted. You took full advantage of that, moaning and clawing at the speedsters back, most definitely leaving marks as his hips slammed against yours.

The drag of his cock inside your thick plush walls had to be one of the best things you’d felt in a long time. He was pretty shy at first you’d have to admit, but he definitely knew what he was doing.

“Peterrr- fuck-“ you gasped, holding onto his shoulders for dear life as he pounded you into the mattress, knocking the air from your lungs with each thrust inside of you.

He went so deep you swore you felt him in your stomach and a pleasurable ache began to form in your groin, bubbling into a tingling pleasure that spread through your veins. You knew that feeling all too well. You were close. Already.

You didn’t want it to end so soon though and tried to fight it off. In a desperate attempt at distracting yourself, you pulled Peter into another kiss, nipping his bottom lip which caused him to moan against your mouth, his hips beginning to lose their rhythm.

“My god baby- can’t do that to me- gonna make me lose it-“ He chuckled breathlessly, trying to regain control of himself.

Realizing that he was close too, you smirked, squeezing around him purposely, causing his jaw to drop and the hottest little whines to leave his lips.

“Don’t want this to end- so soon-“ He complained, body begging to buzz with built up energy that was ready to burst.

“Who said it had to end?” You questioned, smirking up at him as you placed one of your hands in his silver hair and pulled on it a bit. Peter let his head fall back, adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed hard.

“Y-yeah? Think you can handle another round?” He asked with a smirk, but was obviously trying to cover up how desperate he was.

You didn’t respond with words, too far gone and basically mindless on his cock at this point as he fucked you within an inch of your life.

You felt the tight band in your stomach snap, euphoric release flooding your system as you clenched around him, a loud moan leaving your parted lips as Peter kissed you, resulting in the two of you really just breathing into the others mouth, too caught up in the moment to focus.

Peter was right behind you, a few more thrusts had him tipping over the edge, stilling inside you and stuffing the condom with his white hot release.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, attempting to catch your breath as Peter leaned over you, muscles flexing as he gripped the blanket before he pulled out of you, taking off the condom and tossing it onto the floor, which you’d yell at him for later. Once you came to your senses.

Peter wrapped you up in his arms, holding you to his chest as your breathing slowly returned to normal. You felt so safe in his arms. It really was a nice feeling and you hoped it’d last.

The two of you fell asleep like that, too tired to have another round that night. You woke up in the morning a bit sore and when you reached for Peter, he was already long gone. You should have expected that.

Sitting up, a bit of disappointment filling you, you saw a quickly scribbled note on a piece of paper that lay on your bedside table. It read:

I had a righteous time with you last night baby. Had to leave earlier than I wanted to, but I obviously know where you live and intend on stopping by again soon. For twinkies of course…

and other things if y’know what I mean- Quickie

#evan peters #evan peters icons #xmen #quicksilver smut #xmen quicksilver #quicksilver #peter maximoff #evan peters x reader #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff smut #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff fanfiction #evan peters smut #evan peters fanfic

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bitchinbarzal · 8 months

Text

Always Our Daughter | N Hischier

summary; even after you split, his mom will always consider you her daughter.

In all of your time with Nico, you’d always been close to his mother. Katja had treated you like a second daughter from the moment Nico had brought you home.

So when you split up she was heartbroken. You felt sorry to be loosing a second family but you knew this was best for you both.

Nina reached out a few times to check on you but they all went radio silent for a few weeks until you got a text from his mom.

hi sweetheart, just checking in! you’ve been busy! it’s been so strange not having you around, we’re so proud of you! Please reach out if you ever need anything — you’ll always be our daughter.

It felt nice that she thought about you.

It was a little sad how you felt. You missed them.

Everything was changing; you’d moved out of your shared apartment in Hoboken and up to Buffalo for cheaper rent. Your mom had taken all of your belongings out of your shared home back in Bern.

She’d sent you a picture of the house almost completely empty, considering you’d bought the house together in the off season you were the only one who was able to stay in Switzerland to decorate and Nico didn’t get much of a say.

you moved! your mother showed us pictures of your new house, it’s gorgeous! please let us know if you’ll be visiting us on your trip back to Bern this Christmas, we miss you so much.

When you finally found a place you got to work making it yours, trying to make it home.

you’d never lived alone, constantly moving from rental to rental in Jersey to accommodate Nico’s lifestyle. Your first apartment was perfect and you’d considered buying it but as the internet does, fans had shared your address online and you then had to move a further seven times for the same reasons.

When you’d finally settled on your home in Bern you had planned to make it your own, you made countless Pinterest boards for each room.

You stayed up late nights in the bedroom, laying on the mattress on the floor holding one another while you spoke about all of the things you’d do to the house and all of the memories it would hold.

You spoke about how you’d get married in the garden, how you’d bring your children home here and how you’d decorate their nursery’s.

you went to South Africa?! how was it, sweetheart? you always said you wanted to go… I saw on facebook you’re dating someone new, is he nice? We’d love to meet him. miss you sweetheart.

When Nico had finally settled payment and given you your half of the money for the house you decided to go on vacation. A vacation you’d spoken about going on with Nico countless times but hadn’t gotten around to it.

On the plane you’d been sat next to a guy who you got chatting with. He told you he was headed to Johannesburg to do work, he worked with a non profit.

The two of you spent the entire flight chatting away, getting to know one another and before you parted ways at the airport you exchanged phone numbers with the promise to call when you got back to the US.

hi sweetheart, your mother told us you got a new job! Congratulations sweetheart you’ll be great.

After you’d gotten home and Alex called you, he showed you all the stuff he’d done in South Africa and you were enamoured with it and began complaining about your job and how you wanted to help more people.

Being the captains girlfriend in New Jersey meant you took lead on fundraisers and community events, you missed it.

So Alex told you about an event organiser position that was open in his company so you went for the interview and got it.

It felt nice to be helping make a difference again.

happy new year love. it was so nice to see you last week, congratulations to you and alex. you’re going to be an amazing mother, nobody deserves this more than you. can’t wait to meet this little one! don’t become a stranger please…. we love you! x

Things with Alex moved quickly. He moved into your apartment, the two of you settled into a routine and only a few months in you found out you were pregnant.

It was a massive shock and you were something bordering excited and disappointed. You liked Alex, truly you did and it was nice to be sharing your life with someone again but this was all a lot happening in such a short period of time.

Whenever you thought about having babies you always imagined them with brunette hair, Nico’s nose crinkle and his beautiful big eyes.

You called your mom and cried for a little bit, she tried her very best to soothe you. At one point you considered calling Nico, just wanting someone who would make you feel better.

it’s been a while! A little girl…. congratulations sweetheart, not long until she’s here. nico sends his well wishes, Nina shared your photos with him I hope you don’t mind. let us know if you got our gift in the mail.

A little girl.

You posted it on instagram, a heart shaped cake with pink icing inside with the caption ‘my sweet slice of heaven ☁️🩷’

Nico saw it, everyone saw it. They all tried avoiding the conversation in the locker room but Nina sent it straight to him ‘HAVE YOU SEEN THIS?!? THAT SHOULD BE YOURS!!!’

Things with Alex hadn’t been so smooth sailing, he’d been making off handed comments about your body and you guys had been arguing about finances, with the additional costs of a baby coming you were trying to be smart. That wasn’t something you’d ever had to worry about with Nico, he’d fight you to keep your credit card in your purse. He always said his money was the least he could give you for everything you’d ever given him.

oh sweetheart. claudia is just perfect. she looks exactly like you and she’s got the chubbiest little cheeks. your mom told us what’s happened the past few months, I’m so sorry sweetheart, someday someone will come into your lives for you both and change it for the best. one day claudia will know just how strong her mommy is. we’re always here to support you; we’re so glad you reconnected with nico. he’s been showing us all the pictures and videos you send him, we’re so excited to meet her someday. take care of yourself schatz, we’ll see you when you come home x

Claudia, the love of your life.

Your babygirl was born and she was perfect. Everyone said she looked like you which you were grateful for, not a reminder of Alex who had taken off just before she was born.

You freaked out when you went into labour, all alone with nobody to call so you called the only person you knew you could rely on.

He was by your side, holding your hand and whispering words of encouragement in your ear.

“I can’t do it! I can’t!”

“You can Schatz, you can. You’re so strong you can” you cried out in pain, squeezing his hand tighter.

He named her.

“Does she have a name?” He asks, stroking the little girls cheek.

“Alex wanted to call her Emma but I don’t like it” you scrunched your nose in discontent “My mom gave me a book of Swiss names but Alex wouldn’t even let me look at it he didn’t like-“

“How about Claudia?” He asks and your eyes go wide before you give a soft smile, remembering back to the first night in your house, holding one another while you said

“and our babies! if it’s a girl, Claudia and if it’s a boy I’d like to use Luca”

You nod, eyes full of tears “Claudia… hi babygirl”

Even after you’d gotten home and settled into life with your little girl you kept in contact with Nico. He asked for updates at least four times a day and you would FaceTime when he was on the road.

The devils last game of the season was against the sabres and you took Claudia to her first NHL game.

Nico found you both, standing next to the ice he waved to the baby through the plexi

“Hi, Chäferli!”

happy birthday to Claudia! we can’t wait to give her gift, we may have gone a little overboard but you can’t blame us… she’s our first grandbaby!! love you and we’ll see you three later at her party.

“Happy birthday Chäferli!” Nico shouted, peppering kisses all over the one year olds face as she sat in her high chair eating her cupcake delivered specially from the team.

Your camera shutter caught both of their attention, the two looking over at you with smiles and you shrugged “Capturing the memories”

Nico shakes his head, unclipping Claudia from her high chair and waltzing over to where you stood in the kitchen with your camera pushing the camera down from your face to kiss you softly

“Best day of our lives” he mumbled and you stroked Claudia’s cheek while nodding

“Our precious girl, you made this family”

#nico hischier imagine #nico hischier x reader #nhl imagine

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harlowcomehome · 4 months

Note

💟": Jack buys you a lingerie set for Valentine's Day that you hate

Jack was scrolling on his phone in bed while you got ready for the day, he had been exhausted lately.

“Baby, did you ever make those reservations for Valentine’s Day?” You yelled from the bathroom as you continued to put on your makeup.

Jack sat up in bed frantically checking for the date. He had completely forgotten, and Valentine’s Day was only four days away.

“It’s okay if you didn’t. I think I want to stay home if that’s okay?” You poked your head out from the bathroom, checking to see if he was awake.

“I’ll cancel the reservation! I’m fine with that” he lied, immediately searching for a gift to get delivered to you in such a short time frame.

He was frantically ordering flowers and lingerie when you startled him, walking over to kiss him before leaving the house. He hid his phone against his chest as you said your goodbyes.

••••

When Valentine’s Day came along you were eager to see what Jack had put together at home for you.

You had spent the night at your parent’s house the night before under his direct instructions and spent most of the morning there too.

When you got to your house, you were blown away. He had completely transformed your living room into a garden with a romantic candlelit table in the center, renting a storage space for your furniture even if it was just for the night.

“I have a chef coming to make us lunch here soon” he smiled as you were practically brought to tears.

“I only got you a watch!” You handed him a small box with a small pink metallic bow on top.

“You got me a rolex, I think I’ll live” he chuckled, kissing you passionately before thanking you profusely.

It didn’t take long for Jack to bring in a few gifts from the bedroom, having you sit to open them.

The first box you opened was a perfume you had been eyeballing, proving he paid attention.

“Baby, this would’ve been more than enough!”

“Keep going! You’re not even to my favorite thing yet” he wiggled his eyebrow at you, letting you know you were in for it.

The second gift was a pair of Gucci sunglasses identical to his.

“So I’ll stop borrowing yours?” You giggled looking that was exactly why.

“So you’ll stop stealing mine? Yes,” he smiled as he pushed a white box with a black bow toward you.

You opened the box to find a set of mustard yellow lace panties and a bra to match, wondering why he picked the unflattering color.

“These are so cute!” You pulled the matching set out, placing them against your body. “I can’t wait to model these for you later.”

His face was indifferent, making you wonder what was wrong.

“That's not the color I ordered, I ordered red” he swallowed, knowing you hated that mustard color.

“Thank god” you sighed placing them back in the box and making your husband laugh far too loud.

“You were acting like you liked them too” he clicked his tongue, grabbing the box and throwing it onto the couch.

“You better not be acting anything else out later” he mumbled, earning another giggle from you.

#Jack Harlow #valentines day concepts #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow blurb #vanwritesfanfiction

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fairysluna · 1 year

Text

INVISIBLE STRING | Chapter 1: Lavender Haze.

A disastrous break up led you to them; three guys living in a huge apartment and in need of a new roommate who helped with the way too expensive rent.

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Modern!Aegon x Fem!Reader.

Summary: After an exhausting search, you finally seemed to find the perfect apartment, though you didn't expect to find three handsome guys living in it.

TW/Tags: mentions of cheating, cursing, mentions of sex(?, and that's it... i think.

Author's Note: here it is, the new girl au. it's prob going to be a long series bc i want to make justice to the slow burn of the tv show, so... i think this will have at least 15-20 chapters, lmao. they'll be short, tho, so it won't be too much. thank you for reading and hope you enjoy it!!💕

Word Count: 2.5k

NEXT PART

The intensity of his lavender haze met yours in an eye contact that lasted just a few seconds, but it was enough to make you stutter your first words. The guy in front of you cleared his throat, licked his lips and ran his hands through his silver locks before a charming smile appeared on his handsome face. A deep breath escaped you, before you smiled back at him in a less flirtatious and rather polite manner.

He leaned over the frame of the door, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looked up and down at you, the file between your hands soon became victim of your sudden nervousness as your fingertips started to play with the corners of it. You felt the urge to turn around and escape, thinking that you might find another apartment that will be almost as perfect as this… but something within you made you stay.

“Hi,” you spoke first, softly and kindly, “is Jace here?”

“Who’s asking?” He asked back, arching his blond eyebrows and looking at the file in your hands.

“I’m y/n… I saw the ad online that said you were looking for a roommate,” you took a pause, waiting to see some reaction of realization on him, but you received no answer. “Jace told me to come today.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember hearing something about that this morning,” he nodded slowly, clicking his tongue before he stepped aside. Inevitably, you pecked through the space to the ample space behind him, and you couldn’t help but to love it. “Come in,” he said, “Jace and Aemond went to buy some food but you can come and wait inside.”

You blinked a few times, “Aemond?”

“Yeah, he’s my brother, he lives here too,” he explained as you slowly stepped into the apartment and sighed. The intense smell of incense reached your nose while you looked around.

“Wait,” you turned to see him, “so there’s three guys living here?”

“There were four of us, but our baby bro went to study abroad, and we need someone to help with the bills and all that shit…”

“Oh,” you simply said.

“Is that a problem for you?”

He stood in front of you as you pressed your lips in a thin line. Then, you took the time to consider the options you had; live with three young guys you have never seen before, or return to your best friend’s house, who lived with her very-sexually-active boyfriend. It was one thing or the other, and the right answer was in front of you.

You shook your head, sighing as you purse your lips. “Nope,” you told him, “not a problem at all.”

“Great,” he said, “now, would you like a tour around the apartment while we wait?”

“Sure!” You answered excitedly, a wide smile appearing in your face.

“I’m Aegon, by the way.”

“I’m y/n.” You replied with the same tone as before.

Aegon chuckled, “yeah, I know, you already told me. Now, come on, I’ll show you around.”

He tilted his head to sign the direction in which you had to walk. It was a small hallway that had five doors; three of them were rooms, one of them was the bathroom, and the last one was a tiny room that had the washing machine and the dryer. Once you reached the empty room, you looked around with dreamy eyes as you thought it was just perfect for you; the closet was huge, it had a lot of light for your plants and the space was more than enough for a king size bed. You started to dream awake, and, without even knowing the rest of the guys who lived there, you began to think about ways to decorate the space that could become your new room.

You looked at the door, where Aegon was standing, and you could not hide the enormous smile that appeared in your visage. He, on the other hand, remained serious, quiet, almost as if he was unsure of having you there.

“This is amazing,” you said, “it’s so big!”

Aegon pressed his lips trying to suppress a smirk, for his dirty mind thought about the double meaning of your words.

“It is big,” he nodded. You didn’t hear the mockery in his voice.

“Are there other candidates?” You stepped a bit closer to him, “or am I the only one?”

“Uh… yesterday a guy came, but neither of us liked him.”

“Why?”

“He was not what we were looking for,” he shrugged.

The main door was opened, and Aegon quickly turned to walk outside the room and into the hallway. Soon, two male voices were heard along with the sound of bags and keys falling onto a table. You peeked outside the room, leaning enough to see across the hall, finding two guys in the living room; one had long, soft-looking, silver hair, while the other had short and dark brown hair. You immediately recognized the brunette as Jace, the guy with whom you talked about the apartment.

Aegon cleared his throat and soon the two pairs of eyes were looking at you. Aemond frowned, rolling his eyes with annoyance as he sighed.

“I told you not to bring them home today, Aegon,” he said sternly, “Lucerys will arrive soon and we don’t want him to see your profanity.”

It was inevitable for you not to frown, confused –and a bit offended– by his words, even though you were not entirely sure of what they truly meant. What you were certain of is that, by the look on his face, he did not want to see you there, which actually made you feel a bit bad. Aegon remained silent.

Jacaerys squinted his eyes as if he was trying to search for something in you –some clue about your identity, perhaps–, and a few seconds later his mouth was shaped in a circle as he saw who you were. His eyes widened and he pushed Aemond slightly, making a not-so-subtle gesture that you were quite able to perceive. He immediately realized what was going on and his eye looked at you with an apologetic stare.

“She’s not mine,” Aegon said, “I found her outside our door.”

“Don’t talk about her like a cat,” Jacaerys said, walking towards you. “Hi, I’m Jace, it’s good to finally meet you.”

“Same thing,” you replied politely, stepping out of the room. He stretched his arm to reach your hand and shake it.

“Come, let’s go to the living room so we can talk more comfortably.”

You followed his steps, walking back into the living area. The smell of the recently bought Chinese food reached your nose and made your stomach growl. You tried to play it down as you sat in a comfortable chair right in front of the couch where the three men sat. Your hands were resting on your knees as you sighed, looking back and forth at his faces who were concentratedly staring at you. Jacaerys tilted his head, as if he was expecting you to say something first but you just remained silent.

Aegon laid back, his arm hanging in the back of the couch as he clicked his tongue, seeming kind of bored, and before you could say something, Jace spoke,

“So, why are you looking for a new apartment?” He asked you, “are you new in town?”

Oh Gods, you thought. Now it was the time to tell them the humiliating story that brought you to this place, that made you look for a new home in order to move on. You opened your mouth, trying to force the words out of your mouth but they insisted on being trapped in your throat. You chuckled, a breathy laugh that showed your shame before you were able to speak.

“Weell…” you said, lengthening the syllable as you stared a t your hands, avoiding any kind of eye contact, “uhm… it’s- it’s actually a fun story,” you nodded, “I went to a trip abroad with my best friend, and when I returned… Uh… I found out that my- my boyfriend was kinda cheating on me.”

A silence. The three guys stared at each other, and then Aegon was the first to talk.

“What do you mean with ‘kinda’?” He asked, “did he only put his tip on or-?”

“Aegon,” Aemond scolded him, “that’s not a fucking nice thing to say, the girl had just being cheated on. Have some respect.”

“She said ‘kinda’,” he shrugged, “I want to know what that means!”

“He fully cheated on me,” you explained.

Aegon nodded, “so that means he put his whole dick on-”

“Jar!” Jace shouted, “five coins, now.”

He rolled his eyes as he started to search for the golden coins in his pockets. Once he found them, he grabbed a jar in one of the small tables beside the couch. You squinted trying to read what the white tape around it said, and after a lot of effort —because the calligraphy was far from being neat— you managed to identify the words 'Douchebag Jar' written on the tape. You pressed your lips, holding back a chuckle; the jar was already half way filled.

“I’m sorry for that,” the brunette said, “and I’m sorry for what happened with your boyfriend.”

“It’s okay.” You said softly.

“So, are you currently working?” Aemond stepped into the conversation.

“I am,” you said proudly, “it’s my first year as a teacher, so, yes, I am working.”

"That's good," Jacaerys smiled, genuinely, "do you have any pets?"

“Used to have a cat,” you said, “but just like my boyfriend he found another owner and left me with nothing but memories.”

“That’s depressing,” Aemond said. Jace gave him a bad look.

“Uh, are you guys siblings?” you asked, curiously, “it’s just that I’ve never seen people with white hair and now there’s two of you…”

"Just us," said Aemond, pointing to Aegon. "Jace is our nephew, but we accepted him because he helps us with the rent."

“I can help you with that too!” you joked, but none of them laughed.

“Listen, we have to discuss our final decision, alright?” Jace said, “give us a couple of minutes. Guys, let’s go.”

Jacaerys excused himself, smiling as politely as he had been. You took a deep breath as they stood up and left the living room, walking towards a room at the end of the hall, which, thanks to the tour Aegon gave you around the place, you knew was the bathroom.

Jace locked the door behind him, and immediately turned to look at his uncles, shaking his head.

"Nope," Aemond muttered, "absolutely not."

"Why?" Jace asked, rolling his eyes, "she has a good income, in two years she will be earning more money than all of us."

"She's a girl!" Aemond said.

"So?" The brunette arched his eyebrow.

"Aegon has the hormones of a fourteen year old," he screamed in a whisper, "if you get a girl in here, we'll have to find a bigger Douchebag Jar."

"I think Aegon is old enough to control his primal urges," Jacaerys defended him.

"Is he, Jace? Is he?"

"She's a good candidate," He defended you, "we might not have another candidate as good as her."

"The next candidate can be a man!" Aemond said. "Did you see the way he was staring at her? He was eating her with his eyes!"

"He won't do anything, he'll know how to control himself," Jace told him, "he can behave."

"Why are you talking about me as if I'm not here?" Aegon interrupted the conversation, crossed arms in his chest as he leaned against the wall, "Look, I'm not going to fuck her if that's what worries you. We need the money, so…"

"So keep it in your pants," Jace finished his sentence, speaking sternly. It almost sounded like a threat.

"I'll keep it in my pants," Aegon shrugged, "it ain't that hard."

"Promise it.”

Aegon frowned, "what?"

"Promise that you won't try to- to…" Jacaerys struggled to say the last word without blushing.

"Fuck her," Aemond finished.

"What if she is the one that comes to me, huh? What then?"

Jace scoffed, "please, Aegon, she seems like a smart girl. She won't do such a foolish thing."

Aegon looked at his nephew with a bitter stare, seeming a bit offended. However, he remained quiet, for he knew there was some truth in his mocking words.

"Alright," he sighed, spitting in his hand and stretching his arm, "I promise I will never fuck the new girl. Let my cock fall off if it happens."

"Good," Jacaerys said, repeating the actions of the eldest and grabbing his wet hand, shaking it slowly.

"Gross," Aemond muttered, disgusted.

"So," Jace said, "shall we give her the news?"

The three men stared at each other, and then, they nodded. Aegon was the first one to walk towards the door, grabbing the handle and opening it so fast that you barely had time to run away. He widened his eyes as you blushed, embarrassed for the position in which they had found you.

You slowly took a step back, scratching the nape of your neck as you stared at your shoes, once again avoiding the stare of those three handsome guys. However, after hearing their final answer, you were trying so hard to suppress the giant smile that was threatening to appear on your face.

"Were you… spying on us?" Jace asked.

A sigh left your lips at the same time you dared to look up at them, all with furrowed brows; Aegon was the only one with a slight smile on his face, which gave you the confidence to explain yourself.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it," you said, speaking quickly, "these situations make me feel so anxious, I just needed to know you didn't hate me."

“We didn’t,” Aegon replied, “congrats, you are the owner of the empty bedroom.”

You jump out of excitement and it was impossible for you to resist the urge to hug them tight. Your arms wrapping around Aegon’s and Jace’s shoulders as Aemond just stepped back. Soft little giggles of pure and genuine happiness were heard from you, as you thanked them over and over again.

“I can’t believe it!” you squealed, “I swear it on the Seven you won’t regret this decision!”

Aegon’s chuckle was heard right beside your ear, as he carefully placed his hand in your waist as a habit. You stepped back, still with that sparkling smile on you.

“I hope you’re not making a mistake,” Aemond whispered to Jace.

“Nah, she’ll be fine,” Jace assured him.

They were so focused on you that they were not able to see Aegon’s face, and the quite peculiar way his eyes sparkled as you started to chant about the good news you had received. He pressed his lips in a thin line, eyes fixed on you.

He was ignoring the unbeknownst feeling growing inside of him.

#new girl!AU #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii targaryen x you #hotd au #hotd x reader #hotd aegon #house of the dragon #house targaryen #aemond targaryen #jacaerys velaryon

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