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vera-deville · 2 days

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I Will Say (I'm Fucked)

05/06/2024 - 05/10/2024

Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x Reader Word Count: 2,027 Warnings: The usual cursing; Y/N does the infamous Wattpad stuttering (it's only one line, I promise-) Gender: AFAB Tags: @viviennevermillion, @achy-boo, @savanaclaw1996, @otomyoli, @chroniccorvus Notes: This is the third and final installment to this fic, so please read the previous two parts for more context!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

In which Leona finally asks out his favorite herbivore.

"Shit." Y/N hissed as she swung open the door to her dorm, only to reveal a certain blonde stalker outside.

"You're late Trickster~" Rook sang.

"I know, I know, don't tell Vil though-" You replied, eyes practically begging for him to give you a free pass.

"Seeing as you're not in Pomefiore..." He began, "I suppose I could let it slide this once."

You heaved a sigh of relief, until you felt that heave get locked in your throat at the sight of another person behind Rook.

Vil Schoenheit.

Vil Schoenheit was the house warden of Pomefiore, a house belonging to the esteemed Night Raven College (or NRC for short). He was a well-renowned actor, a celebrity in his own right, and possessed beauty that rivaled no other (except for maybe Neige in the eyes of some Rook). He was known for his strictness, but no one could deny the results that emerged from them (except for maybe Epel).

Vil Schoenheit was also a good friend of Y/N. One of her closest friends, in fact. And as such, his generosity knew no limits with her.

Hence why she was getting torn into pieces as the trio walked to their respective classrooms.

"Vil, as much as I love you, I will not hesitate to throw your new eyeshadow palette into the garbage if you don't stop harassing me in the hallways this morning." You told the beauty queen.

Seething, he replied, "You will do no such thing." Eyes steel cold, he walked a little faster ahead as he continued, "As a Prefect, I expect you to uphold certain virtues even if you do not have many people in your dorm.

You sneered at this.

"Don't tell me how to do my job Schoenheit."

"Then do it properly Prefect."

Rook watched as the two of you glowered over one another, simply happy to be basking in the presence of his friends (plus it was always amusing when you and Vil would argue). He knew that despite your differences, the two of you were as close as friends could be. Even your bickering was in loving nature.

Soon enough, you reached your class and the Pomefiore duo bade goodbye to you before making their way to their class. Smiling to yourself, you played the last five minutes in your head over and over, highlighting your favorite bits as you sat in your seat.

Mozus Trein was a very particular individual. The subject he taught wasn't necessarily popular amongst the students of NRC, but amongst the fair few who did enjoy the class was the Prefect of Ramshackle.

You.

History did by no means come easy to you, but seeing as you were in a completely different world and said world had magic in it, reading history books was more or less akin to reading fairytales. And there were so many of them-

In short, you were something of a fan of Twisted Wonderland's history.

And it showed great results.

"Well done again Y/N." Professor Trein smiled at you as he placed the test paper on your desk. "You seem to have done exceptionally well on the essay portion of your test."

You thank him and say, "Well, the history of Briar Valley is particularly fascinating."

"Every bit the teacher's pet, I see." The professor jested.

You gawked in response.

Class ended sooner than you wished (in your defense, it really was an interesting class), but the rumbling of your stomach opened avenue to better things in life.

In other words - lunch.

Walking alongside Grim, you meet the rest of your first year friends in the cafeteria. With your utensils in hand, you were oh so ready to dig in when a certain red-head interrupted you.

"Yo Y/N."

"What is it Ace?" You asked, annoyed at the timing he had.

"Leona's been watching you really intensely." He noted. But then his smile turned mischievous. "When'd you piss him off?"

Having had enough of him already, you smacked the back of his head, nearly breaking out a grin after hearing Deuce choke on his sandwich when he laughed at the action. "I didn't do shit Trappola. Don't jinx it-"

Rubbing the back of his head, he said, "You're fucking crazy, you know that, right?"

"Damn straight."

Jack, though not fond of the use of vulgar language, did also find the situation funny, and barely managed to conceal a snort as he ate his own food. Epel on the other hand felt no need to conceal his as he guffawed his enthusiasm all whilst bits and pieces of food fell out.

Unfortunately for Epel, he did not notice the looming figure of his house's warden steadily approaching him.

"It seems our lessons still haven't gotten through to you Baby Potato." Vil sneered as Epel whipped around to see him, clearly not expecting to see him. "No matter. I'll be sure to whip you into shape soon enough."

The rest of the first years watched as Epel visibly shivered at Vil's words and as he was dragged away by the said man.

"It's not fair! Y/N and Ace cursed too!"

Whipping his head around to glare at the other two perpetrators, Vil only shook his head before continuing to drag Epel to his immediate lessons.

Epel felt betrayed, and Ace's stink eye wasn't really making matters better.

Rook slunk around to you before anyone else could notice, and managed to say one thing before Vil called for him.

"Roi des Lions seems to be very interested in something in your direction my dear Trickster."

You looked around your friends, trying to determine if they'd heard what Rook had said, but Lady Luck seemed to be on your side because they were still busy watching Epel get dragged away.

Shooting Rook a glare as he went on his merry way to wreak havoc elsewhere, you decided to chance a peek at the lion who now two very annoying (but for some reason highly observant) people had mentioned was staring at you.

Sure enough, he was indeed staring at you.

Not in a smoldering way (which is what you assumed), but rather a lazy manner which befit his personality wholly.

And upon noticing you looking at him in return, Leona's lazy stare mutated into a sly grin (also befitting his personality wholly) before he finally turned his gaze to his food.

The interaction left you feeling a tad giddy, but mainly because he was such an intimidating figure. Not because you had a large sweltering crush on him or anything.

Oh wait.

We're done being in denial now, aren't we?

So maybe, just maybe, the giddiness could be attributed to the chemical infatuation you had with the man.

It was later on in the day, around the time that classes were ending for the day that you found Ruggie.

Or rather, Ruggie found you.

And boy was he weird as hell (weirder than usual, that is).

You noticed that the lavender-colored flower petal tangled in his scarf as he simply watched you for a full 5 seconds (yes, you counted), and then proceeded to do his little hyena laugh before saying "Have fun Y/N~"

However, Twisted Wonderland was full of weirdos, and if you gave every single one of them the time of your day, you'd be stuck the resident therapist. Not that you don't already do that.

Besides, you had to get to Professor Crewel's class, and no one wanted to be late for that-

This time, Lady Luck was not on your side because you had in fact been late (albeit by a few mere seconds), but it was enough to be called out in front of the whole class by Crewel and put a damper on your already dampered mood.

You couldn't wait for classes to be done with already-

Sucking it up, you propelled through the class, only to lose all motivation by the end of it, because Crewel had assigned homework. And a lot of it.

The homework in itself wasn't anything too difficult. If there was something you didn't know, all you had to do was reference a textbook, and that'd be it. The problem lied in the fact that Crewel had assigned a 1,500 word essay regarding any potion of the students' choice and they had to finish it over the weekend.

This was too much. Even for Crewel.

Grim wanted to go watch Ace's basketball practice with Deuce, and you figured that you could use the time alone and maybe even get a head start on your essay, so you walked with vigor back to Ramshackle.

When you got there, a tall figure rests against your door, and you nearly jump back in fright from the sight.

"Leona!? What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you."

Oooooh, that was smooth (although anything that came out of his mouth seemed smooth at this point).

Deciding to be a little braver than usual, you pranced right up to him, faking a confident smile and asked, "what for?"

And that's when a flurry of lavender was gently jolted into your line of sight.

It took a few seconds, but you were eventually able to will yourself to look at Leona instead of the flowers.

"I'm here to ask you out."

Now your heart had gone quiet too.

"Uh-" You started, "I-me?"

Real smooth.

"Who else for, Herbivore?" Leona asked, eyebrow raising questioningly.

"Just wondering," you make out meekly. So much for the brave confident girl act.

Trying to regain mobility in your arms, you tried to gracefully accept the flowers.

"You look like a mechanical doll." Leona commented on the strange way your limbs seemed to move.

That seemed to snap you out of your lovestruck daze as you grabbed the flower bouquet with one hand and hit Leona's arm with the other.

Not it felt awkward.

You still hadn't responded to the whole 'I came here to ask you out' thing and you'd also just slapped the guy (although it wouldn't have done any damage whatsoever on him) right after you grabbed the flowers he got for you.

You kinda wanted to disappear at the moment.

"So?" Leona prodded. Looking up at him again, trying to find the words, he continued "do you want to go out with me?"

You like to think it was his eyes. His eyes though intimidating, also bring some strange sense of calmness over you. And it was those eyes that made you answer him clear-headed.

"Yes. Yes, I do."

And now that you were a little more clear in the mind, you noticed how Leona's facial expression showed the tiniest bit of expression - relief. And that's when you realized that you weren't the only nervous person in this situation. Leona (although to what extent, you were unsure) was also anxious, clearly about what your answer, your decision would be.

"Great. I'll see you at The Winstonian next Friday at 7:00 P.M."

The Winstonian? That sounded fancy.

"I'll see you then Leona."

Nodding, Leona started walking away when you interrupted him with a question.

"Hey Leona? What's the dress code?"

"Just wear something formal."

That was a problem. You didn't have anything formal in your closet (aside from your NRC uniforms, but you really didn't think anyone would wear that to a first date-

Leona waited a moment to see if you had any more questions before sauntering off back to his dorm.

"Leona!"

He turned around.

Pushing your rapidly beating heart down your chest, you asked, "Can you help me with this essay I have to write for Crewel?"

It wasn't much, and sure, the date was in a week, but letting him go now seemed like such a waste. Maybe you could spend just a teensy bit of time with him before the big night.

Leona's eyes glowed a green ember.

"Sure Herbivore."

You couldn't help the grin from spreading on your face as you invited the lion into your dorm and at the idea of a totally not study date with him before the actual first date.

God you were so fucked for this man.

Author's Note: Alright, so this (not originally planned to be) series is officially over! I hope I did the last part justice and that you enjoyed reading it (not gonna lie, it feels like it's missing something), but I have decided that if I ever find out something that I want to add to this, I can always do so in the form of drabbles. Also, it's worth mentioning that the original idea I had for this story was that Leona would keep trying to ask out the reader, but fail a whole bunch of times before succeeding. I obviously went down a different route, but I might write that story idea separately (not affiliated with this series). Thank you for reading!

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ddejavvu · 8 months

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Hotch with a totally shy medical examiner!!! He always visits her although sometimes it would‘nt be necessary ... 🫣🫣 Hotch got a crushhhhhh !!

The team notices that Hotch seems to be injuring himself more and more now that Quantico has a medical wing installed. Because of a rather unfortunate incident on floor 4, where a woman had an allergic reaction and no one was able to find her an epipen in time, there's now a mini-clinic located just across the elevators on floor 5.

Hotch doesn't even bother notifying his team of where he's going this time. He simply barrels towards the glass doors that shield the BAU from the hallway outside, but JJ doesn't let him escape that easily.

"Hotch, is everything okay?"

She expects him to say that there's been some sort of emergency at Jack's school, that he needs to pick the boy up. But she shouldn't, she should have expected what must be the most frequent phrase out of his mouth in the past three weeks.

"Fine. I've got a headache, I'm going to the clinic."

He offers no room for his team's replies as he pushes through the glass doors, standing by the elevators and waiting impatiently. His gaze is so intense on the metal doors that he's surprised he doesn't burn right through them, but the elevator finally reaches him, and he steps inside without looking back into the BAU to see his team members staring.

"He's so full of shit," Derek scoffs, "He doesn't have a headache."

"I think he's got a perpetual headache," Reid muses, and Rossi, who'd been working on stirring his third cup of coffee for the day pipes up.

"I would, if I had to manage you bozos all day," The man grins wryly, but doesn't exclude himself from the conversation; for all his teasing, he wants to gossip about Hotch too.

"Nah. He just wants to see the hot nurse," Derek insists, "I've seen her. She's cute, and all, but she's no Savannah."

"Maybe I should have a headache later," Emily muses, lost in thought and toying with the necklace resting on her chest.

"He's gonna have to start finding new excuses," Derek leans back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other with his ankle against his knee, "Maybe he'll ask one of us to shoot him just so he can get her hands all over him packing up the bullet hole."

"And that is my cue to leave," Rossi grimaces, "I don't often like mixing sex with wound care."

The older man pointedly ignores Derek's comment about how that's probably why he's thrice divorced; he's not freaky enough. He shuts his office door behind him and conversation putters out among the bullpen, each agent stuck with a residual smirk on their faces as they get back to their paperwork.

"Agent Hotchner," You smile kindly up at the man who steps through the doors of your clinic, "I'm not sure why I even looked up, I should have known it was you."

He chuckles bashfully, hands tucked into his pockets, "I haven't been getting much sleep lately, so I've got a pretty persistent migraine."

"Is it hard, sleeping after a day at your job? The things you see," You trail off, reaching into a drawer at your desk to retrieve a bottle of excedrin, "I don't think I'd be sleeping either."

Aaron's suddenly flustered by your concern for him. He'd intended for his poorly crafted excuse to come across as light insomnia, too much coffee during the day or a scary movie at night. But as you reach out to hand over two tablets of medicine, he meets your eyes with a fond gaze.

"I'm alright," He assures you, his voice soft and earnest. He touches you more than necessary, taking your loose fist in his hand and uncurling your fingers for you so that the excedrin falls into his other palm bumped up against the heel of your hand.

You're surprised your hand doesn't start sweating at how flustered you've become, but you're glad for it. He secures the medicine in his fist, his hand still humming with the ghost of your touch.

"Sleep tonight," You warn him with a slightly weak voice, watching as he downs the pills with a gulp of water from a delicate paper cup stored by your sink, "Get off of any electronic devices for an hour before bed, read something boring, and keep the lights dim. And if none of that works, take sleeping pills, I can give you Tylenol PM if you don't have any at home."

"I'd love some," He smiles, lingering by the edge of your desk, "Thank you, Doctor."

"You can call me Y/N," You avert your eyes to your desk drawer, your voice feeble, "We see each other every day, you ought to be more familiar with me than that."

He chuckles, a soft exhale that sends butterflies with it into your stomach. You offer him the pills and again he takes your hand in his own, only making the fiery heat that burns at your cheeks more intense.

"Thank you. And you can call me Aaron," He takes the pulls from you, tucking them into the breast pocket of his button-up.

"Goodbye, Aaron," You grin, barely able to stop the expression from growing an embarrassing amount.

"Bye Y/N," He smiles back, eyes glimmering with fondness, "See you next time."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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gureumz · 8 months

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not my thing

like a freak, like a g [installment 3]

rating: explicit

member: sunoo, jake

premise: he might be the director of communications and relations, but he wants no part in this relation. unless you can convince him. or maybe it takes two to get the job done?

notes: fem!reader, greek life!au, university!au, sunjake threesome, dom!sunjake, dirty talk, slight degradation, blowjobs, unprotected sex, slight exhibitionism and voyeurism

a/n: third installment of the 'sleeping around the frat house' series! more drama! unresolved drama! this is a threesome i haven't seen discussed here yet so i wanted to explore it. mc is halfway through the executive committee so she gets a silver star for now lol but anyways please enjoy! *divider by cafekitsune

"i think we need to lay some ground rules."

jake is pacing his room, chin between his pointer finger and thumb, his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip. you're sitting cross-legged on his bed, hands nervously fidgeting with your sweater.

it's been a few days since the party, the one that led you straight into heeseung's arms and bed. you managed to evade jake the morning after, dashing out the door at barely seven in the morning, sparing heeseung a quick kiss and allowing him a brief grope before you made your escape.

you threw yourself into your university duties after that, (mostly) ignoring jake's texts and pleas for you to come over. what is he even groveling about? it was him who sprung up this arrangement, so it made no sense to you why he's suddenly acting all clingy.

but eventually, you had to give in.

'come over, please? i'll drive around the whole campus if i need to just so i can find you,' jake had texted a few hours ago.

with a sigh, you replied: 'stalker. be at the house in fifteen.'

"what ground rules?" you ask, finally meeting jake's gaze at present. you've avoided looking directly at him since you entered his room a few minutes ago.

jake's eyebrows crease together even more. he walks right up to you, staring down at your confused face.

"for whatever this whole thing is," jake says, gesturing wildly around with his hands.

"you'll have to be more specific than that," you retaliate, pushing yourself off his bed. you rise to your full height and despite being a ways shorter than jake, you square your shoulders, raising a brow at him.

"we need to talk about this game you're playing with my brothers," jake explains, the cadence of his voice slowing down as if recounting something to someone significantly younger than him.

"you know, the one where you try to fuck all of them, one by one?"

"huh," you huff indignantly, tongue poking at your cheek.

"if i remember correctly, you were all for it when you brought it up," you say, mildly accusatory.

jake rubs at his forehead, turning away from you. "i know! it's just..."

jake hangs his head low for a few moments, falling completely silent. your own annoyance ebbs away after a while of him just standing there, giving way to a hint of sympathy. maybe this whole thing was stupid. maybe jake is right to be jealous.

did he have the right, though?

technically...you're not sure.

"i just need some time," jake says with an air of finality. he quickly exits through his door without so much as a glance at you, sending you scrambling after him.

"jake, wait—"

"don't follow me!" jake calls out as he practically thunders down the stairs.

you halt right at the banister overlooking the living room and the front door, the same one you and jake drunkenly (kind of) confessed your attraction to each other. annoyance quickly rises in you as you watch the front door of the house slam shut. you can't help the frustrated noise that escapes you.

you walk over to the top of the stairs, fully intending to follow jake but someone at the bottom landing makes you stop in your tracks.

"hi."

another one of jake's frat brothers stands there, hands in his pockets as he looks up at you. he's wearing a plain black shirt and jeans. you notice that he's leaner compared to the others's bulkier builds, but he has the same handsome features, nonetheless, if not a little softer.

he glances back at the front door where jake had just stormed out seconds ago before returning his attention to you.

"i don't suppose you know where he's going?" you ask in exasperation.

the man shakes his head with a soft laugh. "even if i did, brotherhood compels me to act in jake's best interest."

"well, it's in his best interest to talk to me," you say with a roll of your eyes as you descend the stairs.

"clearly," the frat brother says, watching as you slowly approach where he stands. "it seems like he has a habit of not telling you where he's going, which then ends in you walking around in here asking if anyone knows where he went off to."

you stop two steps above the man. "that is eerily accurate," you say, eyes narrowing.

the man shrugs. "hey, news travels fast here."

you're hit with a wave of deja vu as he grins up at you.

"was that about...," he continues, glancing back at the front door. "your thing?"

"my thing?" you ask, confused.

"your mission to sleep with the entire executive committee."

you smile coyly, walking down the remaining steps and brushing past him. he smells strongly of citrus and fresh laundry and you almost stop just so you can take in more of his scent.

"you could say that," you respond, turning back to him.

the frat brother nods understandingly. you realize with a start that you don't even know his name.

"sorry, i don't think we've met before," you say, reaching your hand out.

the other man smiles. "i'm sunoo."

"________."

"i know," sunoo points out with a playful smirk.

"of course you do," you mutter under your breath.

sunoo chuckles, walking over to the sofa. he pats the space beside him as he plops down. you reluctantly follow, still half wanting to go look for jake.

as if hearing your thoughts, sunoo speaks up.

"look, i'm not gonna sugarcoat things and say that all will be well with jake," sunoo begins.

"you do know he talks to other girls on the side, right?"

you feel your stomach flip uncomfortably at those words. you allow yourself to sit beside sunoo, folding your legs beneath you.

"i...suspected it," you admit as you bite your lip, gaze averting to the side. "but it's not like we're exclusive or anything."

sunoo nods, observing your face.

"and are you okay with that setup?" sunoo questions.

you shrug. "i was. well, i still am. not quite sure where he stands on the matter."

"he totally freaked out on me when he heard i..," you clear your throat. "slept with heeseung."

sunoo grins sheepishly at this. "that may have been my fault. i told him about you and heeseung that night."

you raise a brow at sunoo but ultimately wave a dismissive hand his way.

"don't feel bad about it. he was gonna find out, either way. it's not like i was going to keep it a secret," you conclude.

"still, i'm sorry," sunoo apologizes. "being the director of communications and relations, sometimes my mouth has a mind of its own."

your ears perk up. director of communications and relations?

you're seriously starting to question your morals at this point. jake is out there, doing god knows what at god knows where, having stormed out after the two of you fought over you sleeping with his frat brother.

and yet here you are, thinking about fucking another one.

well, it was jake's idea, anyway.

your eyes swiftly glance over sunoo's figure, relaxed and lazily leaning back against the couch. he catches your eye just as your gaze returns to his face.

"so, what exactly do you do as director of communications?" you ask casually, resting your head against your hand as your elbow perches on the back of the couch.

"draft and proofread letters sent out to the school, other frats, and sororities, handle internal announcements, manage the social media, all that fun stuff," sunoo explains, counting off on his slender, perfectly tapered fingers.

"the frat's tiktok is really taking off, thanks to me," sunoo says proudly. he beams at you and you can't help but smile back.

"oh, you're the one posting thirst traps of the other members on the frat account?" you ask, shifting your weight to face sunoo fully.

he nods, shrugging nonchalantly.

"the likes and comments come flooding in," sunoo declares.

"i don't think i've seen an entry from you," you challenge with a raise of your brow.

sunoo scoffs, shaking his head. "i'm just the guy behind the camera. i'm better at thinking of witty captions than posing half-naked for the whole university and beyond to ogle at."

"i doubt that," you say delicately, subtly knocking your knees against sunoo's.

sunoo pauses, jaw unhinging slightly. a flash of realization washes over his face.

"you're a sly one, aren't you?" sunoo accuses lightheartedly. "don't tell me you're thinking of...it with me. really? while jake is out there sulking around?"

you scoff, eyes rolling. "he can sulk all he wants. in fact, he can go cry to one of his other girls."

sunoo seems dumbfounded, not even trying to hide his utter surprise and mild confusion. he sits up straight, bottom lip slipping beneath his teeth as he lets his eyes wander down your form.

"i'm not...casual hookups aren't really my thing," sunoo admits, voice softer and seemingly unsure.

"i'm not forcing you to do anything," you respond, holding your hands up. "you can always say no."

sunoo fidgets, his leg bouncing up and down. he eyes you warily but you can see a flicker of curiosity in his irises. something else is present in the way he looks at you. sunoo's eyes seem to sharpen before you, rendering him akin to a fox observing its prey.

men are so easy.

"but it doesn't mean i haven't thought about it before," sunoo informs quietly.

you smile, laying a hand on his knee.

"since you're the director of communications and relations, why don't you just communicate with me? let me know when to stop," you instruct, inching your way up sunoo's thigh. he stiffens and you pause, eyeing him cautiously.

sunoo remains still. you resume your movements, squeezing along the way. his breath hitches but he doesn't say anything to stop you. the tips of your fingers brush just below his crotch area and you look straight at sunoo, silently asking.

"one last chance to back away," you say.

sunoo gulps.

"go on," he whispers.

you cup sunoo through his jeans and he sighs, head thrown back. he adjusts himself, spreading his legs wider as his arms come to rest on the back of the couch.

before you can second guess yourself, you lean forward, catching sunoo by surprise as you kiss him square on the lips. his hand darts up to hold your face steady. you swing a leg over sunoo's sprawled out figure and his other arm snakes around your waist, pulling you down onto himself.

you part from him briefly, lips slick with spit. sunoo's eyes are wide yet something dark lurks within. he rolls his hips up and you gasp, planting your hands firmly on his shoulders. you retaliate by pressing down on sunoo's crotch and you both moan, the friction sending heat up your body.

sunoo leans in, lips gliding up your neck. "there are cameras in the living room."

you glance up, scanning the corners until your eyes finally land on a white surveillance device on the right side of the room.

"who handles the footage?" you whisper, a soft groan following shortly as sunoo nips just below your ear.

"heeseung."

you smile, leaning your head further away so sunoo can continue on your neck.

"i'm sure we can work something out with him," you say, fingers toying with the hair near sunoo's nape.

the sound of the front door unlocking reaches your ears too late. you turn to see jake standing in the doorway, expression unreadable as he takes in the scene in front of him.

jake's face goes slack as he rolls his eyes, a bitter laugh escaping him.

"can't say i'm surprised," jake muses, kicking the door closed behind him and locking it.

you make a move to slide off sunoo's lap but jake holds a hand out.

"oh, please, don't let me interrupt," jake hurriedly says. a wicked grin takes over his features.

"in fact, pretend i'm not even here."

jake saunters over to the single sofa chair opposite the big couch. you follow him with your eyes as he plops down, clasping his hands over his stomach as if settling down to watch his favorite show on the tv.

sunoo shifts uncomfortably beneath you, hands gripping your thighs on either side of him.

"jake—"

"i said," jake presses on. you can see the way he eyes both you and sunoo darkly.

"continue."

"j-jake, if you don't want us to—," sunoo chimes in.

"if you're gonna fuck her, i wanna see it," jake cuts sunoo off.

you swallow, turning back to sunoo. he looks back at you, chest rising and falling rapidly. you feel him twitch between your legs and you bite at your lip.

"fuck," sunoo mutters softly before surging forward, enveloping your lips in his. you squeak in surprise, fingers tangling in sunoo's hair once more.

so, you're really doing this.

"suck me off," sunoo whispers, though his tone is commanding. his eyes flick behind you momentarily but his face is hardened in determination.

you stumble off sunoo's lap, helping him undo and tug his jeans down. you can feel jake's gaze burning through the back of your head but not a sound comes from the older. you dare not look behind you.

sunoo discards of his underwear too, letting his cock spring free. you take his length in your hand, circling the base with your fingers. you gather spit in your mouth, letting a drop fall from your lips down to sunoo's tip. he hisses, cradling your face as you lick a long stripe up his shaft.

you take nearly all of sunoo on your first pass down, lips stretched around his girth, more saliva building up in your mouth. you swirl your tongue as you come back up and sunoo curses loudly.

a clatter sounding suspiciously like a belt hitting the flour resounds from behind you but you focus on the task at hand. you bob your head up and down in a steady rhythm, pussy clenching down around nothing as you listen to the sound of sunoo's moans, reverberating deep in his chest.

"fuck, you're so good," sunoo praises, eyes focused on you. you peer up at him through your lashes and sunoo's eyes roll into the back of his head.

"ah!" he moans out as your teeth graze ever so slightly around him.

a sound between a gasp and a whine escapes you as you feel your scalp sting, your lips abruptly pulled off of sunoo's aching cock. you reach up, feeling sunoo's hand tangled in your hair. he's looking at you, pupils blown wide. sunoo pulls your head back even farther. you let out a strangled moan.

"face him," sunoo commands, turning to jake behind you. you finally allow yourself too look and you're met with jake, his own dick in his fist, pumping languidly as he watches the two of you.

"take off your pants then get on my lap," sunoo continues. you obey, standing on shaky legs. you shimmy out of your pants and underwear, kicking them to the side. sunoo's hands find their way to your hips as you face jake, the younger pulling you back down.

you feel sunoo's stiffness between your legs, the head of his cock rubbing lightly against your folds.

"put it in," sunoo whispers, planting a brief kiss on your shoulder. you reach down, aligning sunoo with your aching hole. you ease yourself over him, mouth falling open as he easily slips inside you.

sunoo leans back against the couch, hands still firm on your hips.

"well?" jake speaks up all of a sudden.

"ride him."

you plant your feet on the ground beneath you, hands clutching at sunoo's arms that are holding you from behind. you bite your lip, eyebrows creased in concentration as you start to move on sunoo's cock.

you keep your gaze on jake as he speeds up on his own dick, eyes hungrily taking in the obscene view in front of him. your tits bounce about beneath your tight shirt and to say that you looked absolutely debauched would be an understatement.

your heart quickens when you see jake rise from his seat, discarding of his own bottoms before making his way towards you. his cock is stiff, the tip an angry red and leaking precum. your mouth waters as jake gets closer.

"since you want it all," jake begins, a large hand grasping at your chin. "i'm sure you have no problem multitasking."

jake pushes the head of his cock to your lips and you still momentarily on sunoo. you let jake push his length into your warm mouth, flinching when you feel him reach the back of your throat.

"fuck, yeah," jake breathes. "you really are a cockhungry slut."

you whine in protest but you're cut off by sunoo landing a hard smack on your ass from behind you.

"keep moving," sunoo says through gritted teeth, his hold on your hips tightening as he maneuvers you over his dick.

you feel tears prickle at your eyes as jake takes ahold of your hair. he starts to fuck your mouth, shaking his head in disappointment.

"guess you can't take two at the same time, after all," jake comments, voice tinged with annoyance.

you start to grind down on sunoo, focusing on letting him reach deep inside you. a muffled sob escapes you as you feel sunoo hit that spot within your walls and he, in turn, groans as he feels you clench around him.

your head is spinning, with jake filling up your mouth and sunoo sheathed fully in you. your whole body seems to ignite, the feeling of having jake and sunoo at the same time nearly overwhelming you.

jake pulls you off of him, his fist moving furiously over the length of his cock. you sniffle, the tears now cascading down your cheeks. you look up pleadingly at jake while your hips rut furiously, trying to reach your own orgasm.

"open," jake commands, voice gruff with effort. you obey, letting your tongue hang out. you're panting, too, your fingers reaching down to circle around your clit while you squirm and swivel on sunoo.

"god, you're like a dumb puppy begging for cum," jake comments with a snicker, hand returning around your chin as he holds you in place.

"make him cum or i'm not giving it to you," jake says, hand stopping around his shaft.

you whine pathetically, speeding up even more on sunoo's lap.

"shit," sunoo curses behind you. "yeah, just like that, oh fuck!"

you feel sunoo twitch inside you, finishing and painting your walls with his cum. you squeeze your eyes shut, fingers pressing down desperately on your clit while you grind down on sunoo's sensitive cock. you hear him protest but you ignore it in lieu of your own release.

"that's right. good girl," jake coos. "come on, sweetheart, cum with me."

with your tongue still out, you sob as your body seizes up, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. you feel warm spurts of cum land over your face as jake finishes shortly after, a satisfied groan leaving you as you taste jake in your mouth.

you crack an eye open, the other partially covered in jake's spunk. everything is silent for a moment as the two men catch their breath. you carefully dab away at your face with the back of your hand, the sting in the back of your throat and between your legs finally catching up with you.

"________," sunoo says weakly. "please get off. my dick can't take another second of you clenching around it."

you giggle tiredly, letting jake help you pull off sunoo.

jake leans in to kiss your cheek. "that was so hot."

"yeah, yeah," you say, rolling your eyes playfully. "let's get out of here before someone comes in and turns this into a foursome."

---

"this can't be fucking real," heeseung mutters under his breath as he rewinds the video on his phone screen. the home surveillance app is pulled up, showing him the footage from the last twenty-four hours.

the audio is nonexistent but the image is clear as day: you bouncing on sunoo's cock while jake jerks off right across from you.

"this girl..." heeseung says before laughing silently to himself.

"what girl?"

heeseung turns away from his phone to see sunghoon entering the kitchen. his neck glistens with sweat, evidence that he'd just come up from the den where the gym equipment are.

heeseung shuts his phone down.

"you'll meet her soon enough."

#enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #jake smut #sunoo smut #w: jake #w: sunoo

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ginnsbaker · 9 months

Text

it's just dinner

Summary: Another installment from the Dentist AU, sequel to the follow up; You and Wanda enjoy a quiet dinner at your home--or so you thought

Word count: 3k | Tags: Fluff, Some Blood (lol), Wanda being clumsy

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Author's note: There will be one more installment after this. It's been really fun writing something so wholesome :)

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Wanda Maximoff is breaking up with you.

Before you two are even an item.

And the first date hasn't even finished yet.

Two hours earlier

Every attempt at a date with Wanda Maximoff is a tragicomic misadventure.

The first attempt was promising: a quaint dinner at a hidden gem of a restaurant. Yet, on that very day, your apartment's plumbing decided to rebel, turning your living space into a mini lake. You remember Wanda's sympathetic chuckle on the phone, suggesting a rain check. The next date was set, but it still wasn’t in the cards. Just as you were picking out a shirt, Wanda’s phone buzzed. An urgent mission. She sent an apologetic message, punctuated with a little red-faced emoji. “Next time,” she promised.

Your third attempt seemed foolproof. A coffee date, something short and sweet. Yet, irony dripped as you got a call from the dental clinic. An emergency extraction that couldn't wait. As you gloved up, you couldn’t help but think of the universe’s odd sense of humor.

(Maybe it's trying to send a message, and you've been too stubborn to listen.)

But resilience is your middle name. So, here's attempt number four.

A cozy dinner and a film at your place. Simple. No grand expectations. If, by chance, this date still falls through, at least you're already home. Your bed awaits, just steps away, to provide solace for any potential disappointments.

As the clock ticks closer to the agreed-upon time, you arrange the table, blending classic dinnerware with contemporary accents. Wine glasses shimmer under the subdued lights, their elegant curves catching the candle's dance. The gentle melodies of a classical piano accompany the inviting aroma of the goulash, creating a setting that might just captivate Wanda's heart.

Not that you’re already aiming for her heart. That'd be rushing things, wouldn't it? Only a week ago, you and Wanda were each wary of the other—you, daunted by her powers, and her, intimidated by, well, you.

A mere dentist.

In your bedroom, you've changed outfits multiple times, finally choosing one that finds the right balance between casual and slightly dressy. Every detail matters, from the watch you're wearing to the cologne you've spritzed.

Sure, there's a hint of anxiety, but above all, you're buzzing with anticipation. You can picture it—Wanda's appreciative smile as she digs into the goulash, both of you snuggled up during the movie, and then chatting about everything and nothing as you both start to get sleepy.

Your phone buzzes, snapping you back to the present. You see a message from Wanda: “On my way. Can't wait!” accompanied by a heart emoji. Your spirits rise instantly. You send a silent plea to every god out there who’s watching, hoping for no more mishaps tonight.

Time seems to move both too slow and too fast. Every tiny noise from outside makes you jump, wondering if it's her arrival. You go over your preparations one more time: the temperature of the goulash, the volume of the music, the soft glow of the candles.

A soft knock sounds at your door. The moment has arrived. Your heart races as you move to answer it, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You open the door, and there she stands—Wanda Maximoff, perhaps the most powerful Avenger, clad in skin-tight jeans, a long coat over her shoulders and the same nervous smile you’re wearing right now.

“Hi,” she murmurs softly, that European lilt making it sound almost musical.

“Hey, Wanda,” your voice quivers ever so slightly. “Please, come in.”

She steps inside, and you instinctively reach out, helping her slip off the long coat. The soft fabric is warm from her body heat, and you can’t help the blush that creeps into your cheeks.

“Make yourself comfortable,” you suggest with a gesture towards the plush sofa. She gracefully obliges, her eyes scanning the room.

She takes a moment, head tilted ever so slightly, her nose twitching as it picks up on the scent wafting from the kitchen. “Is that... goulash I smell?” she says, eyes twinkling in delight.

A pleased chuckle escapes you. “Someone's got a good nose.”

In the midst of tweaking the table's placements, you're painfully conscious of every inch of space between you and her. Wanda Maximoff, right in your apartment, seated gracefully on your sofa. The room temperature is already set at the lowest, but you feel unexpectedly warm in your clothes.

You take a few deep breaths. Center. Ground. Every preparation led to this moment.

Distracted by your own thoughts, you almost miss the soft rustling from the living room. Wanda's eyes are now fixed on the elegantly wrapped gift resting on your coffee table. The parchment paper, crinkled just right, holds a tag with her name in your neat handwriting.

She arches an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. “For me?” she asks, her finger running over her name on the tag.

“Uh, yes,” you stammer, feeling a flush creep up your neck. “I thought...well, it's our first, you know, date... and I wanted to get you something.”

She gives you a soft, appreciative smile, her fingers deftly unwrapping the gift. The sight of the Sokovian cookbook draws a genuine, surprised chuckle from her. “You really did your homework,” she teases.

“You're worth the effort,” the words slip out before you can reign them in, and suddenly the room feels a few degrees warmer. But Wanda doesn't seem to mind. In fact, she seems... pleased.

“The jasmine rice will be ready in just a few minutes,” you mention, as you drape the apron on a hook by the kitchen entrance. Deep breaths, you remind yourself. It's just dinner. With Wanda Maximoff. No pressure.

You then make your way to join her on the sofa, deliberately choosing a spot that's comfortably distant. Not too close to be presumptuous, but not too far to seem distant. Or so you think.

However, Wanda doesn't let the spacing go unnoticed. “Why are you sitting all the way over there?” she asks with a playful pout.

You blink, momentarily lost for words. “Oh, I just... thought I'd give you some space?”

Wanda smirks, tilting her head slightly, “You're sweet, but you can sit a bit closer if you'd like.”

Swallowing your nerves, you slide a tad bit closer, closing the gap. Now, your knees are almost touching. The proximity introduces you to more intricate details: the scent of her perfume, the subtle shadow on her lids, the faint tint on her lips.

She leans in slightly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Much better, don't you think?”

You gulp, trying to swallow down your body’s reaction to her voice. “Yes,” you breathe out, attempting to find your bearings again. “Definitely better.”

“So,” Wanda starts, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, “How does someone like you end up as a dentist?”

“Well, my dad was one. After high school, I honestly didn't have a clear path in mind.” You shrug, your gaze distant as you recollect. “It was kind of a 'fall into the family business' scenario.”

“But do you enjoy it? Being a dentist, I mean.”

“Sometimes, I wonder if I made the right choice,” you confess, a far-off look in your eyes. “I had other hobbies—gardening, painting. There was a time when I thought of diving into the arts.”

“But you didn't?”

You shake your head. “Practicality won over passion, I guess. Dentistry is stable, and I do like it.”

She studies you for a moment. “Do you ever regret it?”

You ponder for a second, thinking about all the what-ifs and could-have-beens. But then, your eyes find Wanda's, and a smile creeps onto your face. “Well, being a dentist did allow our paths to cross. So, in that sense, I can't really complain, can I?”

Wanda's cheeks turn a delicate shade of pink, the faint blush enhancing her striking features.

You’re not entirely sure how you’ve survived so far on this date.

Clearing your throat to ease the building tension, you attempt to shift the topic. “Speaking of paths, how did you end up becoming an Avenger? If you don't mind me asking.”

Wanda's expression quickly darkens, and an immediate regret washes over you. You wish you could retract your question, hating the thought of being the one to bring such sadness to her eyes.

Wanda tells you her story with a distant look in her eyes, like she's replaying a bad dream. She tells you about the Battle of Sokovia, how she lost her twin brother in the midst of it, and how she felt totally alone afterward. With no family or close friends left, she ended up with the Avengers. At first it was a choice of convenience, but she soon started to think of them as her new family.

“I’m sorry about your brother,” you say, not knowing what else to say. You’ve never experienced such pain and loss, especially with your parents and sister living in different states, leading their own lives.

“Thank you,” she whispers, the edges of her eyes glistening. “It's... difficult. Sometimes more than others.”

The soft beep of the rice cooker slices through the heavy atmosphere. You turn towards the kitchen, then back to Wanda, offering an apologetic smile. “Looks like the rice is ready,” you mention, almost sheepishly.

She laughs softly at your politeness and says, “Good. I’m starving.”

Wanda Maximoff has a big appetite.

This becomes amusingly clear when she polishes off her plate and shyly requests more rice, eventually consuming the entire portion you'd prepared for the evening. Honestly, you hadn't anticipated this outcome, especially since you weren't entirely sure how goulash was supposed to taste. But seeing Wanda devour nearly all of it not only boosts your confidence in your cooking but also in how the date is progressing.

Honestly, it's been ages since you've been on a date. You keep wracking your brain for topics, wondering if you're saying the right things. But thankfully, it's Wanda who takes the lead, her inquiries steering the chat in various directions. And each time she poses a question, that unique Sokovian accent of hers tugs at you, almost hypnotic. With every word, every soft-spoken syllable, you can feel yourself being drawn closer into Wanda's magnetic pull. It's both exhilarating and terrifying—mostly because you're not sure if you ever want to resist.

Just as you're about to suggest some movies to watch, Wanda's phone rings. You watch her facial expression shift slightly as she answers, her tone professional and measured. “I understand. I'll be right there in an hour,” she says, ending the call and turning to you with a regretful look.

At least you both got through a nice meal. Still, you’re a little disappointed.

“It's the compound. I've got to head back soon. Not an urgent situation, but...” Wanda trails off, her eyes reflecting her regret.

“How long do we have left together?” you ask, trying to keep the disappointment from your voice.

“About thirty minutes?” Wanda estimates. She then glances at the aftermath of your dinner, “Let me help you clean up.”

“You really don't have to.”

“It's easy. I can just use my powers,” she says, beaming a little proudly.

“I’m intrigued,” you say.

The idea of seeing her powers up close excites you, but as she begins to wave her hand, intending to levitate the dishes, something goes wrong. A misdirected wave of her magic, perhaps due to her eyes being trained on you as she watches your every reaction, causes a sharp knife from the counter to fly towards you. You only realize what's happening when you feel a sting on your arm.

Blood starts to seep through your shirt and Wanda's eyes widen in horror. “Oh my god, I didn't mean to... I'm so sorry,” she stammers, her face pale.

You look down, trying to assess the damage. It's not too deep, but it's definitely more than a scratch.

“Don't worry, it was just an accident,” you reassure her, but the sharp pain suggests you might need medical attention.

Wanda immediately wraps your wound with a clean towel and offers to take you to the hospital. It's quite the unexpected turn for your first date, and as the evening winds down with you in a hospital room, getting stitches, you can't help but chuckle at the situation.

Wanda's face, however, is a picture of raw concern, which to be frank, you find endearing, albeit in a dire context. She stays uncharacteristically silent, her expressive eyes darting between the cut on your arm and the sterile surroundings of the hospital room.

“Hey,” you break the silence, “Talk to me.”

“You know... maybe it's best if we don't see each other again,” she begins, hesitantly. “It's just the first date, and I've already sent you to the hospital.”

Wanda Maximoff is breaking up with you.

Before you two are even an item.

And the first date hasn't even finished yet.

And you’ve yet to kiss her.

(You really, really want to.)

“You can't break up with me,” you blurt out.

She looks bewildered, “Why not?”

“Because,” you smirk, wincing a bit as the doctor tightens a stitch, “We're not together. Yet. And if this is your way of getting out of a second date, you're going to have to try harder.”

She looks at you, searching your face as if trying to discern whether you're joking or not. But you're serious. Deadly serious.

Then an idea comes to her. “Fine, then I want you to be my girlfriend.”

“What–”

“I mean, if we're doing this, it's so I can properly end—”

“No,” you say, your smile widening, your eyes crinkling at the corners. “Wanda Maximoff, I don’t want to be your girlfriend.”

Her expression grows more solemn, her tone somber. “You need to understand. Being with me is nowhere near normal. I’m dangerous. Everything around me, everything I deal with—it's all dangerous.”

The smile doesn’t leave your lips. “I understand,” you say, “But I still refuse to be your girlfriend.”

“You don’t give up do you?”

“Ask me again on our second date,” you suggest, nodding appreciatively at the doctor to subtly hint it's time for him to leave, as he’s been watching you both fall into each other a bit too long now.

“And I can’t have you blasting ‘Lips of an Angel’ throughout the compound if we call it quits now, can I?”

Wanda's eyes widen in horror, her hands flying to her face. “How did you even know about that?”

“Vision,” you chuckle. At this point, you’ve totally lost it for this girl. “He sent me a message, thanking me on behalf of Natasha for finally getting you to switch off that track.”

Wanda groans, her face still partially hidden behind her hands. “I can't believe he did that. I'm never going to hear the end of it now.”

“Don’t worry,” you murmur, leaning in closer. “I think it’s adorable.”

Still, Wanda remains quiet, and even though she’s the one who can read minds, you can hear just how loud her thoughts are. Gently, you grasp her hand and stand, pulling her up with you.

“What are we doing?”

“I’ve been patched up,” you note, motioning to your arm. “I’d rather not end our date inside a hospital. Come on.”

You insist on driving her back to the compound, despite Wanda's deep concern that you’d be able to handle a stick shift given your recent injury. However, after teasingly reminding her that she’s technically "in debt" for the unintentional knife incident, she finally gives in.

You really just don’t want the night to end with her simply walking away.

And while the two of you bickered over the technicality that Wanda can't really break up with you, there's an underlying fear in you that perhaps this might be the last time you see her.

The drive ends up being a quick one, and in just fifteen minutes, you’re pulling up the compound’s spacious driveway.

Both of you sit there for what seems like an eternity, neither willing to make the first move. Your heart races, beating loudly in your chest, as you keep stealing glances at Wanda, trying to read her expression.

“I... um... had a good time tonight, despite the… yeah,” you stammer out, trying to fill the silence. “Thank you for being there, Wanda.”

She nods, lips parting as if she's about to say something but doesn't. “Thank you for the meal and the cookbook,” she finally says, her voice soft, almost fragile. “And I'm really sorry about your arm.”

“You're welcome, Wanda,” you reply, your heart heavy in your chest.

She offers a small smile, one that doesn't quite reach her eyes, and opens the car door. For a fleeting second, the thought of pulling her back crosses your mind, but you squash it down, not wanting to push your luck. As she steps out, you hope for a 'see you soon' or even just a casual 'later'. But nothing comes. And with a quiet thud, the door closes behind her, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You rest your forehead against the steering wheel, mentally kicking yourself for letting Wanda do the dishes. Maybe none of this would've happened, and she might still be looking forward to another date. You're so lost in your ‘what-ifs’ that you almost miss the sound of hurried footsteps approaching.

Suddenly, the passenger door swings open, and before you can react, Wanda is back inside. She leans over the center console, gently cradling your face with one hand and pulling you into a soft, tentative kiss.

It's over in a heartbeat, leaving you both breathless.

She pulls away slightly, cheeks flushed, and her eyes brighter. “I didn't want to leave things like that,” she admits.

You smile, still in shock from the unexpected moment. “I'm glad you didn't,” you say, leaning in for another kiss.

Even if Wanda had thrown every knife in the room at you, it would still rank as the best date ever.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x female reader

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westviewtroubles · 2 years

Text

Look Into Me

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Synopsis: It's finally time for your first date with Eddie.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: fluff! so fluffy i'm getting a toothache!

A/N: I had to write it. I had to! I actually have a few series along with some oneshots planned, but I just had to write it. Here, in all it's glory, is the third installment to "Across The Room." This can be read as a standalone, however I recommend reading the two installments before this one!

Part 1 and Part 2

It was a morning sure to go down in history, Eddie running around the trailer like a headless chicken, his hair flowing behind him. It had been a week since you'd agreed to go on a date with him, and he'd spent every night after that thinking about you, and how he could make sure you'd have the best date possible.

He could still vividly remember the way you got on the tips of your toes, giving him a kiss on his cheek and whispering into his ear, accepting his invitation. He could barely sleep the night after, his cheek still burning up where you'd kissed him.

All of his dreams were plagued by how it'd feel to actually kiss you, how soft your lips would feel against his, and how he'd have to bend down slightly in order to actually reach your lips. He couldn't stop thinking about how soft your hands might be, compared to his calloused ones, or how giddy it might make him to be able to wrap his arm around your waist with a smug look on his face, knowing he was holding onto the prettiest girl of Hawkins High.

The only downside was that his uncle now likely thought he was going insane, as the evening before included Eddie running around in a similar way that he was doing now, making sure that his best black jeans and his favorite jean vest were washed, Wayne wondering what the hell had gotten into his nephew.

But now, with only thirty minutes left before he was supposed to pick you up, every single one of his thoughts seemed to be scattered around.

Somehow, you felt the most energetic you had in years, despite only sleeping a little bit over five hours. You had no idea why you'd put an alarm for 6AM, despite having agreed with Eddie that he'd come to pick you up at 12AM, but now, five minutes to twelve, you were relieved that you had.

You couldn't get yourself to believe what was about to happen, that for some reason, the guy you'd been pining over since the first time you'd seen him, was taking you out on a date.

The first time you saw him, it was the first day of your third year and your first day at Hawkins High, as your father had gotten some high-paying government job, and decided to uproot your entire life after living in the same house for your entire life.

You didn't know anyone there, and you were completely freaking out. The school was empty of students, almost making you think that it was some holiday, but then you saw him.

It was only for a brief moment, but when he saw you, he smiled. And somehow, that smile managed to kill every feeling of nervousness inside you. From then on out, you'd seek him out in every room you were in, and when you saw him smile, you felt nothing but warmth.

Maybe he knew that you were thinking about him, because at that moment, you heard your doorbell ring. And with one deep breath, you rushed down the stairs.

Eddie could almost feel his jaw drop to the ground when the door in front of him swung open. You stood there with a open-mouthed smile, a sudden gust of wind brushing some of your hair back.

"Are you ready to go?" You asked, cocking your head slightly, your hand gripping a small bag, and the thoughts about holding your hand came rushing to him.

"Yeah, definitely." Eddie said, clearing his throat, "I had a few thoughts about what we could do."

Few thoughts. As if he hadn't been planning it ever since you'd agreed.

"Sounds good!"

The situation finally started to feel real to you once you'd climbed into Eddie's van. It wasn't like you hadn't hung out a hundred times before, but this felt different. This was different.

The ten minutes that had already went by had been spent in complete silence. Well, there had been one word. As soon as Eddie had turned on the engine of his van, a metal song you hadn't heard before started blasting on full volume, the boy turning it off and sheepishly muttering an apology. For some reason, you thought that was the most endearing thing ever.

"So." You cleared your throat, determined to end the silence between you two, "How's history going for you?"

As soon as the words left your lips, you regretted them. Stupid. You studied with him every other day, you already knew how history was going for him. But even though you saw your question as the dumbest thing to ask him, he chuckled.

"It's going alright." Eddie said, keeping one of his hands on the steering wheel while using his other hand to brush hair away from his face, "How's it going for you?"

"Well, we had a test last week," You looked down at your freshly manicured hands, "and after grading them, Mrs. Click said that I was the only one to get full points."

"That's my girl."

And when those words left his lips, you could feel your heart doing somersaults. Looking to him, you saw the small, victorious smile on his lips as he drove, your heart pounding against your chest when he momentarily turned his gaze to you, his smile only widening.

Eddie had never understood any of those cheesy love songs about someone's heart coming to a pause as soon as they saw someone, but at that moment, he was sure he was living in one.

You stood a small distance away from him, your back to him. The tall grass went up to your knees, and your attention was taken by the flowers peeking from the ground. Something about the blue sundress made it look as if it was made for you, the hem flowing slightly along to the breeze.

He'd found the field of flowers the day of your first lesson, and it made him think of you, the daisies smelling exactly like your perfume. And when he saw you holding one of the flowers, it was like you belonged there.

The sun behind you looked like a halo that was surrounding him as you turned to look at him, the smile he'd come to know too well on your face, it took everything in him not to walk over to you and kiss you.

"Come smell it!" You urged, and it took him seconds to stand at your side as you pushed the flower to his face, "Doesn't it smell good?"

"It smells like you."

You simply shook your head, casually putting the flower behind your ear. "How did you find this place? It's so beautiful."

"One time, I was coming home from Hellfire when I got the urge to take a detour." Eddie laughed, looking to you, "That's when I saw this. It made me think of you."

You nudged him slightly, covering your eyes from the sun as you looked up at him, "Are you being serious or are you just being cheesy?"

Eddie gasped, feigning offence at your comment. "I can't believe you'd accuse me of being cheesy. Do I look like someone who would say something like that if I didn't mean it?"

"I guess not."

"Yeah, so stop questioning my integrity. It's insulting."

"Can't have that, can we?" You chuckled, taking hold of his hand like it was the most casual thing ever.

But he could feel his heart turning backwards inside his chest, the playful smile on your face just making it worse. Somehow, every single thing in the world made sense to him, while also being the most foreign thing ever. It wasn't like anything he had dreamed of, it was better.

Even the thought of him being half as excited as you were for your date was making you giddy, and by the amount of planning that seemed to have gone into the date, it seemed like he was just as happy to go on a date with you as you were to go with him.

The two of you sat in the back row at The Hawk, watching some action movie you'd already forgotten the name of. You'd already spent half of the movie staring at Eddie.

He'd only let your hand go when it was time to get back in his van, and to get out, but for the remainder of the time, it was clasped in yours, your fingers intertwined together. And you'd be lying if you said it didn't have an effect on you.

Eddie looked so beautiful, even in the dark, and you thought it unfair that even his side profile looked so breathtaking as he concentrated on the screen, his brows slightly furrowed and his tongue peeking out every now and then.

What you didn't expect, was for his lips to start moving out of nowhere.

"Are you bored?"

Even the way he whispered sent shivers down your spine as you stared up at him, slightly leaning towards him with dazed eyes. Eddie turned his head to look at you, a grin on his face.

"No." You said quietly, clearing your throat, "Why do you ask?"

"Because you haven't been paying any attention to the movie."

"I have!"

"Oh yeah? What's happened so far?"

"I don't have an answer if you're gonna put me on the spot like that."

"Sure. That's the reason why." He smiled, turning back to the movie while you kept gazing at him with a slack jaw.

He hadn't shown that spot to anyone. The small diner on the outskirts of Hawkins was his spot. And now, it was yours too.

The clouds outside had started turning grey, and you were sat in his usual booth in the corner of the diner, on different sides. Eddie thought it was so endearing how your eyes brightened up when you realized you were on a first-name basis with the waiter.

"So, I'm guessing you come here often." You said, sitting across from him, fiddling with the straw of your milkshake as the two of you were waiting for your food to arrive.

"It's one of my favorite spots, actually."

"How have I never heard of this place?" You asked, looking around, "I mean, it seems like it'd be popular."

"Give me some credit, you don't think I'd take you just anywhere for our first date?" He said, making you chuckle, "I found this almost ten years ago when I agreed to play hide and seek in the woods with some of the bigger kids."

"I was the first to seek, and over an hour went by and I hadn't found anyone. I was starting to get tired, and I had no idea where I was. That's when I stumbled across this diner, and I came in. Doris, our waitress, offered me a free milkshake and let me call my uncle."

"That's so sweet of her!" You exclaimed, "I'm happy you wanted to show me this place."

"I thought it was time I showed someone how awesome the burgers in this place are."

After clearing your throat, you started going through your bag. "I wanted to give you something." You said, slightly hesitant. "I hope you don't think it's weird, or anything."

You placed a folded piece of paper on the table, quickly pulling your hands away as to make sure you wouldn't snatch it back, taking a deep breath as Eddie took it off the table, slowly unfolding it with furrowed brows.

When he saw it, he felt as if a weight had been taken off his heart. He finally knew what was in your notebook that kept you so occupied, what you kept hiding away from him

Eddie smiled, looking at the picture of him that seemed like it was smiling back at him. The way you had drawn him was so beautiful, it would've made him feel like it was impossible for it to be of him if it wasn't for his name written on top of it with cursive with a heart next to it. Eddie couldn't believe this was how you saw him.

Nobody had ever given him something like that. Nobody had ever made him feel like his heart would burst out of his chest any moment. But somehow, ever since he set his eyes on you, it was all you seemed to do. And to think that you would feel the same, made him feel like the luckiest person in the world.

"It's amazing." He said, looking down at the drawing before looking up at you, "I can't believe you drew it."

"You really think so?"

"Absolutely." He laughed like it was the most obvious thing ever, "I can't believe you'd make this. I hope you know, I'm gonna hang this up in my room and look at it every day. Shit, I'll buy a frame for it."

And the way you laughed made him want to pull your face to his and kiss you. Your face lit up, and he knew he'd never get sick of that laugh. That even, when everything else felt like ruin, your laugh would never stop being the brightest thing he'd ever see.

He brought his hand to your cheek, your laughter abruptly coming to an end as he rose up slightly, leaning over to you, his eyes basically pulled to your lips.

And as you were about to rise to your seat, he heard someone approaching the two of you, quickly sitting back down, leaving you to stare at him blankly.

The car ride back to your house had been quiet, but unlike the car ride to the field of flowers, this one wasn't tense, or awkward. You listened to the rain tapping on the roof of Eddie's van as he drove, his ring-clad hand still clasped in yours as you stared at the raindrops on your window.

"We're here." Eddie said softly, turning off the engine, and you turned your head to look at him, a smile still on your face. "I had a lot of fun today."

You chuckled, looking down at the hand that was intertwined with his. "Me too. I don't think I've ever had this much fun."

"Somehow, I still can't believe that you agreed to go out with me."

"Are you kidding me?" You chuckled, "Eddie, I still can't believe that you asked me out."

"Is it weird that I want to go on a hundred more?"

"You know, I think there's a word for that. Or, like a word for the person you keep doing that with."

"Oh, is there?" He said, furrowing his brows, "I have no idea what it could be."

You laughed, shaking your head before looking down at your watch. "I should go in. I have a lot of history homework to catch up on."

"Well, even great days have to come to an end." He chuckled, letting go of your hand. You felt a shiver go down your spine, already having forgotten how your hand felt without his. How empty it was. "I'll see you on Monday?"

"See you on Monday."

As you got out of his van, walking closer to your door as you felt the rain on your skin, you thought back to everything that happened that day. How every word he had said felt brand new when they left his lips, how comforting his hand felt in yours, how every smile he offered was the only thing you could see. How badly you had wanted to kissed him in the diner before the waitress brought your food.

You paused in front of your front door, digging through your bag for your keys with a wide smile on your face, even the thought of Eddie causing blood to rush to your cheeks.

As you were twisting the key in the lock, you heard something behind you.

"Wait!"

You let go of the key, turning to see Eddie rushing to you, a determined look on his face as he stopped in front of you.

"I'm gonna feel like the dumbest person ever if I don't do this."

And as soon as he got done saying it, you felt his ringed hands on your face as he turned your face up to look at his, your skin feeling like it was burning under his touch, the boy bowing his head slightly as he bent down.

When you felt his lips on yours, it felt like the opposite poles of a magnet finally connecting. The porch light above you flickered as he moved his lips in sync with yours. His curls felt damp against your fingers, and you leaned into his touch, feeling like you were going to drown if you ever let go of him.

You had no idea how long he had been kissing you, but once he pulled away, your lips felt like they were burning, and you were completely out of breath, Eddie looking down at you with a dazed look on his face.

"Will you go out on a hundred more dates with me?" He asked, in-between breaths.

"I'll go on a thousand more dates as long as they're with you."

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader

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euphoricfilter · 11 months

Note

pt 3 smut for yandere mafia yoongi please!

consumed by you:

pairing: yandere! yoongi x f. reader

genres: fluff || smut || non-idol au || mafia au || yandere au || established relationship

summary: yoongi is finally home and you have a special way of showing him how much you missed him

word count: i wrote on tumblr for once so idk 🕺

tags/ warnings: fluff, pwp, smut in the forms of; hand job, fingering, oral (very brief: m. receiving), titty sucking, unprotected sex (don’t be stupid, this is fiction), creampie, cum play,

notes: im somewhat getting back into writing, so finally here’s the third installment of the yandere yoongi drabbles!! it’s months late but it’s my page so what are you gonna do about it ‼️

this can be read as a stand-alone!!

other drabbles for this series: how time has changed you || it’s all in your head

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

a week.

it had been a whole week, seven wretched days, and 168 full hours since yoongi had seen you. and even then, when he’d gotten home, and taken a slow peek into your room, you’d been asleep. ever so soft, curled up beneath an array of blankets, edges of your bed bordered off with pillows and plushies and all the soft things you loved.

soft things that built up a wall to protect you from all the bad that awoke when the sun would set, and laze in the darkness.

and maybe that’s why yoongi chooses to close your bedroom door, and decides that he’ll let you sleep in your own bed tonight. because some days he thinks you forget that he’s worse than the monsters you fear sleep under your bed, or the beady eyes that peek through the cracks in the closet.

he’s sluggish as he showers, lethargic, irritated, and ready to sleep for most of the morning before he wakes and smothers you with a weeks worth of love.

it’s when he’s sat up in bed, there’s a light knock at his door. heart rate skipping at the flitting sound.

“come in” he calls out, running a hand over his face.

his gaze falls onto you, head peeking into his room; hair mused and eyes heavy with lingering sleep. but even then, yoongi thinks he sees a halo surrounding you, a warm little glow like a precious little angel toeing past the lines of sin.

“yoonie?” you slip past his door, pushing it shut with the tips of your fingers.

“hmm?” he hums, beckoning you closer with a cock of his head.

the velvet blanket you have tucked under your arm drags across the carpet as you slink closer.

you barely make a fuss when his fingers wrap around you wrist, tugging you down until you’re laid belly down over his lap; legs hung over the edge of the bed.

his hands trail up the expanse of your back, gentle motion tugging your night dress further up your thighs. an unintentional tease that has him changing his motions.

the tips of his fingers explore further down your body, skimming over the backs of your thighs, easing over the swell of your cheeks.

you wriggle, soft whine barely making its way past your lips when his hands drag up the hem of your dress over the curve of your ass.

something feral— something raw claws it’s way through his chest when he sees you’re not wearing any panties.

“don’t tease” you turn your head, cheek resting against the sheets as you try and catch a glimpse of your boyfriend. the scar across his face illuminated by the light of the lamp.

he’d always been so pretty. so pretty and rough, and soft and rigid. a living contraction it had your mind spinning, spiraling so fast really all you could think of was him.

yoongi hums when your fingers dip below the sheets, tracing the waistband of his underwear. nails tickling the bare skin of his stomach before dipping that slight bit lower.

“now you’re the one teasing” he inches his fingers closer to your pussy, thumb parting your folds. already so wet and slick, awfully amusing considering he’d barely had his way with you yet.

“sorry” you murmur, eyes flitting across his face as you dip past his underwear. tips of your fingers nudging against the base of his cock.

you trail up his length before pulling the sheets down and then his underwear, hard cock slapping wet against his stomach.

yoongi’s head tips back, uncoordinated as his thumb dips ever so slightly into your cunt; your thighs twitching at the unexpected intrusion.

you spit onto the palm of your hand, eyes meeting yoongi’s as you wrap your fingers back around his shaft.

“good girl” a smile pulls onto his lips, reward coming as two fingers slipping into your pussy, curling over your sweet-spot.

you squeeze his length, hips rutting back into his fingers.

“hold on” you bat his hand away from your cunt, sliding off his lap onto your knees on the floor.

yoongi cocks his head to the side, “you don’t know what you do to me, when you get on your knees like that, my love”

you wet your bottom lip, a smile toying at the corners of your lips. balancing your elbow on the edge of the bed, your free hand takes hold of yoongi’s hard cock.

he simply watches you, watches as you trace the tip of cock over your bottom lip. how your gentle tongue slips past the petals of your mouth, swallowing down his precum and then letting your saliva dribble down his length.

his hand covers yours at the base of his length, tapping the tip against your bottom lip.

your jaw falls open, blinking up at yoongi through your lashes. his free hand tangles into your hair, pulling you down to feed his cock into your awaiting mouth.

your fingers dig into the meat of his thigh, eyes falling shut as you sink further down his length.

he pulls you up, tip resting on your tongue. barely having to guide you as you take him back into your mouth.

your lips close around his cock, sharp intake of air filling your lungs through your nose as his cock-head pushes into the back of your throat. squeezing it’s way into your windpipe.

you hum, thighs squeezing together, clit throbbing with an incessant want as you drool over yoongi’s cock. the mere act of being stuffed so full of him sending you reeling.

he groans, a little mean as he tries to get the last few inches into your mouth, your throat swallowing as you try and take him further.

you pull off with a dry heave. “s’ too much” you whine, kissing over his slit.

“yeah?” he murmurs, pushing your hair from your forehead, “all your holes are too small for my cock, huh?”

you shake your head, “not true” you suckle at his tip.

“no?” he mocks, tone that tinge of condescending that he knows burns under your skin perfectly.

you were a shameless little thing after all. and he watches as your thighs clench, your needy little fingers twitching to sink into your wet pussy and thrum at your clit until your thighs are shaking and nothing but incoherent words slip off your tongue.

you pull off his cock, tongue licking up the precum that clings to your bottom lip.

you shake your head to his earlier question.

“come here” he tugs you up onto the bed, impatient fingers pulling your night dress over your head.

he palms your tits, thumbs running over your pert nipples as you line him up with your cunt.

you drag his cockhead through your folds, hips twitching when it nudges against your clit; unabashed moan vibrating from your chest at the flash of pleasure that flits up your spine.

“no teasing, love” he wraps his lips around your nipple, tongue flicking over soft skin as you nudge his tip over your eager entrance.

your thighs quiver as you sink down yoongi’s cock, tip of his cock splitting you open deliciously.

yoongi’s hands fall to your hips, lips still kissing over your chest, nipping over tender skin; blossoms of red staining your skin with the rawest form of his love— feral art over your pretty skin.

your hands fall to his shoulders, hips rutting forward, messy and uncoordinated as you chase your own pleasure. always a little greedy and pleasure drunk, though yoongi never minded. not when you looked like the epitome of sin, beautifully depraved and eager to please yourself.

weak little moans slip past your lips in quick succession with each jab of his cock over your sweet spot.

“yoon” you whine, nails digging into his skin. dragging down the length of his arms.

his kisses trail up your neck, tongue licking at sweaty skin. traveling upwards to your cheeks, then to your lips.

you let him lick into your mouth, let him consume every little moan and gasp and whine and cry for more more more. a slick mixture of yours and his saliva coating your lips and chin shiny.

you bounce in his lap, thighs starting to burn.

“s’ too much” you murmur against his lips, tongue lax and brain barely there as his fingers find their way to your ass; digging into your flesh.

your hands trail down your stomach, two fingers flicking over your clit as yoongi thrusts up into you. a lewd harmony of both your moans mixing thick in the air.

“i’m close” you pant, stomach clenching as you near your peak. yoongi crashing close behind you.

“me too. be a good girl a play with yourself”

a thick sheen of your arousal coats the length of his cock, thick ring of white clinging to the base with each wet slap of his balls against your ass.

your fingers lose their rhythm over your clit, messy as you climb higher and higher until something inside of you snaps and you’re tumbling so fast; little hiccups of moans catching in your chest as you ride out your high.

you feel yoongi’s cock twitch between your walls, his hands sliding back to grab onto the meat of your hips as he holds you down. cock fully tucked between your walls.

you feel his cum flood your insides, thick ropes of it coating your pussy with his heady release.

“so good” his head tips back, knocking against the headboard, “did so good for me” his hips roll upwards, your cunt milking him. final spurts of his cum stuffed into your wet pussy.

your thighs shake, hands finding purchase over your tender tits as your hips stutter forward.

yoongi groans, pleasure bordering overstimulation as you chase those fleeting sparks that make you feel ever so good.

“no more, darling” he laughs, soft cock slipping out of you.

you make a noise in the back of your throat, pitiful little pout tugging at your bottom lip as you look down at him from where you’re sat on your knees.

your pussy clenches, and you watch down the length of your body; unable to take your eyes away from your pussy. watching as a thick dribble of yoongi’s seed spills out of you, puddling over his stomach.

he closes his eyes, barely opening them to look at you as you scoop up his cum with your fingers. insatiable as you push his seed back past your walls.

he wets his lip at the slick sound of your cunt.

“how greedy” he laughs, breathy and gruff. another wave of arousal licking down your spine.

your fingers stay buried within your cunt, curling and unfurling.

“go on” he nods his head towards you, “put on a show for me. and then we’ll wash up”

a devious little smile pulls at your lips, a third finger joining the other two already stuffed inside your pussy. a newfound vigor unraveling in your chest.

“okay” you chirp, fingers slipping out of your pussy. already hell bent on grinding over his cock until your legs gave out and the pleasure made your brain nothing more than a puddle.

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #yoongi fic #bts yoongi #yoongi fluff #yoongi imagine #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi #bts non idol au #bts fic #bts imagines #bts x fem!reader #bts mafia au

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esamastation · 7 months

Text

Shizuroth, part eight.

"How is he?"

"What do you think?"

Lazard gives the SOLDIER First Class an unimpressed look and Genesis sniffs. "Never fear, Director - your Hero will be well fit for duty - after a break," Genesis says.

"Sephiroth never takes breaks," Lazard points out.

That earns him another sniff, one much closer to a scoff this time. "And people wonder why he's so unapproachable," Genesis says, rolling his eyes. "Why he keeps destroying training rooms in regular spars."

"I seem to recall you and Angeal having a hand in that too," Lazard says, amused and unimpressed. "You are all still forbidden from using the training rooms."

"Yes, yes, ours is a tragic tale of woe," Genesis says dismissively. "The point I'm trying to make is that whether Sephiroth takes breaks or not, he still needs them. He might be Elite even among us Firsts - but he's still human. No matter what the professor says."

Lazard folds his arms. "So this was to be expected, is that it?"

"Wasn't it? Have you not seen Sephiroth's schedule? And I don't just mean his mission roster. He's in and out of the labs so often they should install a revolving door, just for him," Genesis scoffs and looks away. "It's a wonder he didn't start losing it before."

Lazard narrows his eyes. "Has he lost it, then, Genesis? Has he been pushed to the brink?"

Genesis is quiet for a moment and then sighs. "No," he says. "Not yet. But something happened that shook him. Apparently his heart stopped, he was given too big a dose - but I don't think that's it. Not all of it."

"It sounds plenty shocking to me."

"SOLDIERs flatline all the time. That's what Phoenix Downs are for," Genesis waves a hand at that. "Sephiroth must've gone through it a thousand times. But maybe, in combination with the higher dose he got, and however long he was dead…"

Lazard hums. "Memory issues?"

"Most definitely," Genesis agrees, and gives him a sideways look. "He'll be able to cover it up - given time. But he must've forgotten more than he was letting on. I don't know how much - but it was a lot."

Lazard hums in grim understanding, and they're quiet for a moment in shared acceptance. Memory loss in a SOLDIER is common enough and usually isn't reason alone to pull them from the field - higher ups really didn't care. But it tends to have other detrimental effects…

Like an increased mortality rate.

SOLDIERs were sent out only on toughest of missions, taking on most dangerous assignments the company had to offer. Everything Turks or Infantry couldn't handle, the SOLDIER took care of. And going on a high-risk mission with any level of loss of mental faculties…

If Sephiroth was operating with something worse than your usual case of a few burned synapses…

"He needs to be evaluated," Lazard says finally. "Sephiroth has numerous missions coming up in Wutai - if his abilities are compromised -"

"You'll send someone else?" Genesis asks and scoffs. "That I would like to see! How will that look in the newspapers, when the poster boy is replaced? The horror, the controversy - the conspiracy!"

Lazard casts him a look. "Or maybe I will have to shuffle the roster to send someone with him," he says pointedly.

"To babysit Sephiroth?"

"Better than to risk everything due to lack of foresight," Lazard muses and leans back in his chair. "Angeal will be back tomorrow - I want you to debrief him on the situation - quietly - and then the two of you can assess Sephiroth's condition."

"Out of the company's view, I assume?" Genesis asks while whipping out his PHS to check the calendar.

"It wouldn't do for rumours to spread," Lazard agrees and looks away. "Thankfully the Third who saw him already promised to be discreet."

Genesis hums dubiously. "We'll see how long that will last," he mutters, scrolling through his schedule. In his experience, SOLDIERs gossip worse than the secretary staff.

"I'll take even a day's delay. With the true extent of his stay in Injections suppressed and with you handling the rest, hopefully the gossip won't find enough ground to spread," Lazard says.

Genesis hums and then frowns at a new message notification. "Ah," he says, reading the title.

"Hm?" Lazard asks

"Well. Speaking of gossip," Genesis says, his brows arching. "Someone is getting fired at Laybell's."

Lazard frowns and gives him a confused look. "Laybell's? You mean the clothing store?"

Genesis opens the mail that had just been sent out to Silver Elite and reads it through.

SEPHIROTH JUST ORDERED A WHOLE BUNCH OF SHIRTS FROM LAYBELL'S?!? by Beybelina

Hi, hello, hey, I'm a bit of a lurker, usually I don't have anything to say, but something INCREDIBLE just happened!

I work at the Laybell's in Sector Seven and I was just processing orders when it popped up! At first I couldn't believe my eyes! The name on the order, it couldn't be! It was SEPHIROTH! I thought it was fake, so I checked - and the mailing address is Shinra HQ!

Aaaah, my heart is pounding like mad! Sephiroth, making orders from our store! This is the happiest day of my life!

There's almost instantly a reply.

Re: SHIRTS FROM LAYBELL'S by Silver Tail

OH MY GODDESS! What did he order? What kind of shirts? What colour? Tell us everything!

And then an answer to that, just as quickly…

Re:re: SHIRTS FROM LAYBELL'S by Beybelina

I have the full list, though I probably shouldn't mail it because of customer confidentiality! But let's just say it looks like he's moving in from the Glorious Coat of Greatness and Goodness and we'll all be worse for it! He will look amazing of course, but it's still a tragedy!

Genesis brows arch slightly in incredulity. What customer confidentiality? "Apparently Sephiroth has been shopping for clothes."

Lazard looks up, and Genesis shows him the message. "Hm. I agree, someone is certainly getting fired," he says dubiously. "But is it really that unusual? Everyone uses mail to shop these days."

Genesis gives him a look. "You have no idea what the state of his wardrobe is, do you?"

"I make it a point not to pry into the personal affairs of SOLDIER members," Lazard admits.

"And we're oh so grateful - but I do, and it's something else," Genesis says flatly. He'd gotten his own leather coat because he'd gotten inspired by Sephiroth's style - only to soon realise where it actually came from.

He's never known anyone too damn haughty to get a new shirt, before Sephiroth. It would be amusing if it wasn't so irritating. Of course, there's also the fact that whenever they do as much as charge their hairstyle it's newsworthy. Sephiroth is especially sensitive to it, having been in the spotlight all his life. But mostly it was just the man being contrary on purpose, because someone said something, and sometimes Sephiroth just decides to dig his heels in about the weirdest things for no good reason. Like with the hair, oh, Goddess, the hair.

So the idea that Sephiroth is suddenly becoming fashion-conscious…? Highly unlikely.

Genesis scowls, snapping his phone shut.

Lazard is right - Sephiroth really needs to be assessed, thoroughly. Because either the man has utterly lost his mind… or he's up to something.

Cut to SY, sobbing screaming throwing up over a pile of torn shirts.

#Fanfiction #FFVII #Svsss #genesis rhapsodos #lazard deusericus

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lowkeychenle · 10 months

Text

Juliet's Writing Masterlist

general rules | text!au masterlist | smau masterlist

K E Y

☆ - Ongoing Series ♬ - Completed series ♔ - Author’s Faves ღ - Fluff ※ - Angst ๑ - Smut

Zhong Chenle (钟辰乐)

๑ Chilled Nights, Fogged Windows (M)

After being gone for weeks, the first thing Chenle wants to do is get ice cream with you. One thing leads to another, and suddenly, you're in the backseat (oooops).

♔๑ღ Sunshine (M)

You're not usually able to wake up with Chenle due to his schedules, but on the days that you can, it's certainly worth it.

※ You're Not Sorry

You and Chenle broke up two weeks ago. The first time he calls you at 3am, you ignore it. Then he calls again. You answer, and you go to him knowing there's nothing he could do to fix what he's broken.

๑ღ The Last Straw (M)

Chenle has been your best friend for as long as you can remember. Being in love with him isn't easy, until you find out he reciprocates those feelings (thanks to Cockblocker!Jaemin).

♔๑ SOS (M)

Road trips with Chenle are your favorite thing. Late at night, the two of you stop at a hotel, but it's not everything it seems to be. You barely have time to settle before you get a call to evacuate immediately. Beneath red neon flashing lights, you and Chenle have to try and escape the group of people hunting you down.

(This is the second installation of the 7Dream ISTJ series)

♔ღ๑ Like We Just Met (M)

Everything else about the day is completely normal when Chenle realizes he wants to marry you. It hits him like a tidal wave, and he's itching to tell you just how much he wants to love you forever.

(This is the third installation of the 7Dream ISTJ Series)

ღ※๑ Within the Piano Keys (M)

For as long as you could remember, Chenle has been your neighbor and childhood best friend. That is, until one day he disappears without a word…or so you thought, since your mother hid all the letters he sent you.

๑ Paris (M)

Pure smut on a hotel room balcony in Paris! Woo.

๑ In Your Dreams (M)

What started as innocent phone sex hotline stuff (if that can ever really be innocent?), you get an offer you just can't refuse...you just have to be a little sleep deprived ;) (Chenle as Freddy Kruger Halloween thing lol)

ღ※๑ this is me trying (M)

Meeting Chenle was a fluke--a good one, at that, but you never expected things to escalate the way they did. But despite the whirlwind romance, you'd go back to December if you had the chance...

ღ※๑ Cruel Summer (M)

He wants you. Everything to do with you--your heart, your body, all while keeping your friendship. What's a man to do during a 30-day hook up to get you to stay?

ღ※๑ See My Sea (M)

You never expected your lab partner to be the captain of the basketball team...or a decent human being, but you get proved wrong twice. Despite a rocky past of your own, you find yourself falling for him faster than you thought. Maybe, with his help, you can finally find your way home and see your sea.

๑ Quiet Down (M)

You and Chenle visit your parents, but he just can't help himself...

※๑ Is It Over Now? (M) (Feat. Jisung)

Your relationship with Chenle is nothing but fight after fight. Amidst the toxicity, infidelity comes into play--except you're determined to one up him...but is it ever truly over?

ღ※๑ And Then It Was (M)

After your marriage with Chenle was arranged by your parents for a company merger, things with him aren't quite like you expect. In your life full of obligations, he's determined to finally give you the ability to make your own choices.

Na Jaemin (나재민)

♔※๑ღ the 1 (M)

Six years ago, you decided to move away to a different country to go to school. The catch? You had to leave Jaemin behind, and you refused to drag him along. Now you're back and, for some reason, he doesn't quite seem to hate you in the way you thought he would.

Mark Lee (이민형)

๑ღ Late Nights (M)

Mark's busy schedule only gives him time to come over late at night, but it's safe to say neither of you are complaining by the time you fall asleep.

※๑ Empire State of Mind (M) (Feat. Jisung)

Life with Jisung is almost perfect. He loves you, and you love him. But when you run into your ex, Mark Lee, you realize the one thing you've been missing all along is him.

7Dream

๑ღ ISTJ Series Masterlist

One-shots based on the ISTJ album tracklist.

Zhong Chenle (钟辰乐)

※๑ Irrevocably (M) Series Masterlist

You were friends with benefits with Chenle until he got a girlfriend...fast forward months later, and now they've broken up--leaving Chenle to come back to you, very much in need of a distraction.

๑ Opposites Attract [Poly!Jaemle AU] Series Masterlist

Your relationship with Jaemin started out simple--friends with benefits with zero complications...until there was one. That complication's name is Zhong Chenle, and after Jaemin agrees to expand your exclusivity deal to involve him, there's only one logical thing left to do...

Na Jaemin (나재민)

☆※๑ღ Enchanted Mini-Masterlist

As the crown princess, you shouldn't be entertaining any matches that couldn't benefit your kingdom. Love is not an option, not a choice, and unfortunately for you, your betrothed's royal guard seems to be catching your attention more than he ever could.

♔☆※๑ღ Lost & Wayward Mini-Masterlist

After the worst couple weeks of your life, you finally break down in the middle of an alleyway. Jaemin hears you and comes to comfort you, and little do you know, he's about to change your life--in more ways than one.

๑ Opposites Attract [Poly!Jaemle AU] Series Masterlist

Mark Lee (이민형)

♔☆๑※ 모래성 (ONE) (TWO) (THREE)

You and Mark have had a friends with benefits relationship for almost a year now. He's in love with you, addicted to you, but you don't feel the same. You're his poison.

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dozing-marshmallow · 8 months

Note

Im so sorry for all the Chris’ nibling stuff but I absolutely love family type fics so could you please continue the thing into maybe World Tour?

Maybe Alejandro being like a big brother type thingy? You know since his big brother is kinda a bootyhole

NO DON’T APOLOGISE IT’S OKAY!! It’s a sign that you really enjoy this instalment and that makes me proud of my ability as a writer to engage yall so much. :’)

CHRIS MCLEAN’S NIBLING! READER WORLD TOUR HEADCANONS

It’s been a year, and Total Drama was coming back with its third season: a no-holds-barred race around the world in a jet!

It wasn’t surprising that it took a lot more conversation out of Chris to convince your parents to let you on this one- the suspicious measure of his jet’s safety, what you’d be exposed to this time around, your passport, visa, if the whole process was even legal.

In the end, they allowed it, primarily because it was Chris’ burden to bear the responsibilities and they trusted him enough to keep you safe.

This time, you didn’t need to pack; everything you’d need was at Chris’ place already.

That’s right! You started staying with him a lot more without your parents being around.

You were one year older, and so was everyone else.

Chris decided to invite two new contestants on the show. Potential friends?

“Eee! OMG! It’s Chris Junior! Hi! Hi! Hi!” One of them, the super fan Sierra wildly shakes your hand,“I always daydreamed about the day I’d get to meet my step-cousin, and now I’m finally here!”

“Step-cousin...?” you didn’t get it.

“(Y/N) your majesty, why don’t you go sit at the front with Chef while uncle Chris explains a few rules to the passengers?” Chris interrupts sweetly.

“Aww. Okay.” After you whispered to him,“Will I need to sing too?”

The plane took off, and you were flying into the sky!

“I think I can see my house from here!” You exclaim, peering out one of the holes in the wall modified as windows in the “economy” section. The wind taps your face. Canada looked like little rectangles!

“It’s a long way down! Don’t lean out too much, you don’t wanna fall!” Leshawna advised, beaming at you.

“I won’t fall! This is the Chris plane!” You declared, jumping off the bench and spinning around in circles.

The Chris plane broke out free in aggressive blue.

“Huuu...” you whimpered, cutting your dancing short,“Is that normal?... Is...this meant to happen?”

“Are you frightened?” An answer in the form of a question slid into your ears by Alejandro, the other new contestant.

“Y-Yeah...” you nod, clutching onto the window,“I’ve never been on a plane before... If this is what it’s like, I don’t think I like planes very much...”

“You don’t need to feel frightened.” A tanned arm of his surrounds you, seeming sincere, like a scared half to death boy who didn’t get this shield long ago,“I may not have much history with you, but it’s not in my morals to ignore a child in distress.”

You could see why your uncle wanted him on the show. His face was perfect, alright. And the hair on his chin really got you curious,“Can I...?”

“By all means.” He directs your hand to his goatee.

You stroke it. Soft...like silk,“My uncle told me about you. Don’t worry, I don’t snitch, but are you fake being nice to me?”

He shakes his head, his long dark hair similar to Chris’ elands with it,“I haven’t any intention to deceive you, little one.”

“You can say that, but not mean it...” you mumble, not happy with his nature, but happy enough to accept it the way it was.

“This is separate. I swear.” His fingers weren’t crossed,“I wonder, (Y/N)...you don’t happen to have siblings, do you?”

“Mm mm. My parents are busy so there’s only me.” You quiet your voice, now stroking his necklace,“If I did, I probably wouldn’t be on the show, and I’d be jealous that I’d have to share...”

“I see... It sounds like a life of luxury.”

“Ale-jandro!” your uncle appears down the hall,“Strategising already, are you?”

“What? Of course not! To use a child like this? I could never!” The Hispanic man quickly jumped to defend himself.

“Yeah yeah, the turbulence is over in case you missed it.” His odium of the sight sharpened his face, which was very new.

“What’s the problem here?” You’d like to know too. What gives, uncle?,“Please forgive me if I act in ignorance, for I did not see anything about-“

“You done? I’m uh, kinda waiting on you to get up and go.” much to your baffled expression, Chris’ impatience squished Alejandro’s right to speak, leaving him no other choice, but to bid an end to your moment together.

Nobody could look smart challenging the host. Not at the start as a newbie at least.

Understandable, though. Chris loses control over his contestants sometimes and didn’t want you to get in the middle of it.

Shortly, you arrive to Egypt, the first country, and watched the contestants take their mark to race across a pyramid. While you were so excited to visit new cultures and be in different countries, Egypt itself was unbearably dry.

“Ughhh uncle! How are you not hot?” You groan, flapping your hand in front of your face. Too hot... So hot...!

“Look what I’m wearing.” he answered, ironic since the most he wore was a nemes and loincloth- not even a shirt.

Seeing how relaxed he was nagged you to groan further,“I’m melllting!”

“Intern!” He yelled at a poor unpaid worker to rush and raise-low a palm leaf to you,“Better?”

“Ahh..” you groan, falling into the sand on your knees,“I could use some icy lemonade right now...”

This was going to be a loooooong season.

#chris mclean #chris mclean x reader #total drama chris mclean #tdi #total drama island chris #request #tdi x reader #td chris #total drama #td chris mclean x reader #td alejandro #total drama world tour #total drama alejandro #total drama headcanons #uncle chris mclean #chris nibling reader #nibling #nibling reader

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dddevilsadvocate · 11 months

Text

1. and now I’m covered in you

Leviathan x gn!AFAB!reader

a/n: here it is folks! the first chapter of the longest fic I’ve ever written. literally. 12 pages and counting. after the overwhelmingly horny positive reception on this post, I decided to split what I currently have into instalments and release them periodically as I edit them. there is no schedule lol I have ADHD and am also very not good at this 🥲

THIS IS VERY NSFW MINORS GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE

CW: self-indulgent smut (unprotected vaginal sex, dry humping, fingering), loss of virginity

midnight had struck well over 2 hours ago. RAD’s 8am start crept closer and closer, like a cat upon a mouse. like a threat. and though you were in bed, covered in blankets and surrounded by pillows, basking in the warmth of the body pressed against you, sleep could not reach you. there was no room for it.

the third eldest’s allocated “you” time - an entire 24 hours with you all to himself! - had started right as the new day did. at 0:03, you’d snuck into his room, where he’d been waiting like a lovesick puppy to show you what he’d done. he’d chosen a great movie for you two to watch; some niche title from his surprisingly robust comedic horror collection, apparently a Devildom cult classic. he’d even gone through all the trouble to have it projected onto his ceiling so you could easily see it from the comfort of his bed - which he’d rearranged into the perfect cuddle nook. snacks he’d fought to keep safe from Beel were laid out like a buffet. the lights of his tank were set to your favourite colour, casting a hazy glow over the space.

everything had started innocently enough. you’d pressed your lips to his cheek, complimenting his efforts. he’d rushed to start the movie and practically dove into his tub, finally able to wrap his arms around you and rest his head atop yours. his chest rose and fell against you as he laughed at every slapstick gag, mandarin eyes sparkling when he realised you were laughing too. you don’t quite remember how he’d ended up under you, with his hands on your waist and your tongue between his lips, but you weren’t going to complain.

Levi had always been cautious of intimacy. he rarely went further than where he was with you right now, and even such familiar territory made him nervous. you feel the heat of the blush on his face as if you’re leaning over a fire. your kisses are sloppy, and his are desperate. his hands don’t dare stray from their places above your hips, but the lust he’s holding them back from sparks from his fingertips. he wants to let them roam. he wants to let then roam more than anyth-

CCCRRRAAASSSHHH

a sudden, violent rise in the movie’s volume comes like a bomb over your senses. you push yourself up from the demon, a scream tearing from your throat. Levi is just as startled; his eyes are wider than you’ve ever seen them as they study the room for the threat.

“AAAH WHAT THE HELL WAS TH- oh. th-the movie.” groaning, his head falls back against the pillow. “I completely forgot about that part… and that it was still playing…”

though your heart continues to pound against your sternum, you giggle. “my god.” running your fingers through his fringe brings his attention back to you. “we should probably turn that off and get some sleep now.”

you reach for the projector’s remote and click it off. but as you go to slide off the demon, his fingers suddenly dig into you. your shirt separates his skin from yours, but you swear you can feel the ridges of his fingerprints. his grip is somehow full of panic, like he’s worried you’ll float away. “w-wait! wait. can… c-can we keep going?”

you smile. you can survive tomorrow’s classes with no sleep if it comes to that. and if you’re honest with yourself, sleeping wouldn’t be nearly as fun as continuing. “of course we-”

“can we go further? maybe?” despite threatening to, Levi’s voice does not waver. his eyes - golden and indigo like the most vibrant of sunsets - dart between yours from beneath furrowed brows.

the shock of the question does not strike you as hard as his confidence does. your relationship with Levi had never been consummated in the traditional sense, but he wasn’t a stranger to the concept. the rock of your hips always left him a babbling mess. your hands brought him such pleasure he only lasted a minute the first time. and your mouth? god, it was like he was addicted. you’d never heard him - or anyone, for that matter - make such noise while actively trying not to. and yet, as much as he enjoyed the acts as they were happening, asking for them activated his fight or flight. red-cheeked and stuttering, until you saved him with your overwhelming perfection.

you figured he’d get to this question at some point, but you never thought he’d ask it in one smooth go.

“you… want to go further?” you arch an eyebrow. “how much further?”

Levi’s gaze darts to the door. you made sure to lock it behind you at his request, but now he seems worried a brotherly ear or two might be pressed against the other side. he stares for a moment before glancing back at you, unable to meet your eyes this time. he studies your lips, your chest, your shoulders, before his voice drops to a whisper: “a-all the way?”

you open your mouth to respond, but the response doesn’t come. nothing you think of seems appropriate in reply. if you say yes, you’d be the first being to have ever done so. Levi had never even asked anyone before - a confession Asmo had once drunkenly given on the otaku’s behalf. the amount of courage it must have taken to verbalise the question, to venture so far from his comfort zone… your heart swells. the poor demon must be scared shitless.

you don’t even entertain the idea of refusal. of all the centuries he’s had to ask this question, he’s asked you. he wants you.

finally, you cup his cheek in your hand. “I’d love to.” his eyes return to yours, staring wide and glossy over crimson cheeks.

“r-r-really?!” his voice squeaks. his expression is pure disbelief, like he was expecting you to echo his signature ‘disgusting reclusive weirdo’ tirade and flee back to your own room. when you smile again, leaning forwards so your forehead is pressed against his, he inhales sharply and tightens his grip on your waist.

“I’d be honoured, Levi.” your lips brush over his brow, his cheek, his nose. “I’ll take good care of you. I promise. just let me know if you want me to stop at any point, okay?”

(read the next part here)

#obey me leviathan #leviathan x reader smut #leviathan x reader #levi x reader smut #levi x reader #obey me levi #obey me levi smut #obey me leviathan smut #leviathan smut

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sneakyblinders · 1 year

Text

the greatest honor

A/N: the third installment of the "grace saga"! follows directly behind chocolate cake & drunk lunch. warnings: language, sexual themes, alluding to smut but no smut, (lots of foreplay lol) not canon, fluff, pregnancy. 8.4k words. i take no credit for the gif!

It had been about a month from your drunken encounter with Grace, and you hadn’t built up enough trust again to want to see her. She’d tried calling, tried seeing you at the betting shop, but you told Lizzie, who had taken a job as the receptionist, that you weren’t in. Lizzie, thankfully, had corroborated your story and hadn’t let Grace back to see you.

Tommy had been busy with business, busier than normal. He’d had an idea, one that he was hesitant to share with you. But you beat him to it with some other, more pressing news.

You’d been sick to your stomach in the mornings, coming to the betting shop closer to lunchtime. He’d asked if you were alright the first few times, but after that, he figured you’d just grown fond of the shorter days working. He reasoned with himself, you didn’t have to work anyway. You wanted to work, wanted to make yourself feel useful, feel a part of the business.

So one afternoon on a Sunday when Tommy had come home early, you decided it was time to tell him of your speculations.

You were in your bedroom, Tommy changing into more comfortable clothes, preparing to lay down with you for a little while. You sat on the end of the bed, nervously fiddling with your hands. “Thomas?” you said, heart rate fluttering.

“Yes, love?” he said, eyeing you in the mirror as he untied his tie.

“My–my blood is late.” you say, hoping, praying, he will understand your meaning.

He makes a funny face, eyebrows scrunching for a second before relaxing, lips in a slight pout. “Do you want me to phone Doctor Hopkins?” he asked. “Maybe your iron is low.”

You let out a breath of air, hand shaking now. “Thomas,” you say quietly, standing up and walking over to him. He turns around to face you, his hands on your hips.

“Are you alright?” he asks, concern flooding his face.

“Thomas,” you say again, hoping his name would bring some comfort, tears beginning to stream down your face.

“My love,” he says softly, thumbs brushing tears away from your cheeks. “What is wrong? Are you sick?”

You look up at him, and through clouded eyes, you say, “I think there’s a baby, Thomas.”

A million emotions cross his eyes in a manner of seconds. Your husband sinks to his knees in front of you, pressing his cheek to your belly. “A baby?” he breathes.

Your fingers card through his hair. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, more tears falling down your face.

He quickly stands up, hands cupping your face, eyes blazing with intensity. “Sorry for what?” he asks, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“I–I didn’t think you’d want a child right now,” you stammer, every fear surfacing.

“No, no, no,” he shakes his head, speaking softly to you, pressing his forehead against yours. “Darling, no, don’t think that,” he closes his eyes for a moment, before speaking again. “I played just as much a part in bringing that life into being as you did, my Darling. It will be the second greatest honor of my life to be your children’s father.” he says, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Second greatest?” you ask, smiling softly up at him.

“The greatest honor is being your husband.” he presses a kiss to your lips, wrapping you fully in his arms.

When he finally pulls away from you, you look up at him, a dreamy expression on your face. “A baby, Thomas.”

He smiles down at you. “I hope the baby looks like you, my love.”

“Oh stop,” you tell him, swatting at his chest. “Any child would be lucky to look like you.”

“Why’s that?” he asked as you pulled free from his grasp, resuming your spot on the end of the bed. He continued in removing his dress shirt under your hungry gaze.

“You are the most handsome man in Birmingham, Mr. Shelby,” you tell him, a cheeky smile on your face.

“How fitting,” he said, removing his shirt from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor as he climbed on top of you on the bed. “That I am married to the most beautiful woman in all of England then,” he kisses you again. And again. And again.

The next morning you wake up slowly, stretching your limbs in bed, rays of light scattering through your room. Tommy is miraculously still in bed next to you, the morning's paper in his hands, leafing through it.

“Morning, Darling,” he rasps, cigarette dangling between his lips. You grumble a response, belly already rumbling, threatening to have you running to the bathroom. He sets his paper down on his nightstand and rubs your back soothingly as you curl into his side. “Not feeling well, eh?”

“No,” you whine. “I’m tired of feeling this way.”

He continues rubbing circles into your back. “I know, my love. I know,” you roll onto your back and look up at him. “I’m going to go eat something, come down when you’re ready and we can go to the betting shop together today?” he suggests. You nod and he presses a quick kiss to your forehead, getting out of bed and padding over to his closet where he grabs a robe before heading down the hallway and stairs to find Frances.

A few hours later you came down to his office, dressed and ready. His heart sped up in anticipation of the conversation he knew he was going to have with you today. He knew how you’d react, but your news the night before solidified his need for this plan.

He smiled softly at you, admiring your new, light blue dress that complemented your skin beautifully. “You look beautiful,” he said, rising from behind his desk and coming up to pull you against him for a kiss. “Mother of my child,” he whispered in your ear, planting an open mouthed kiss to where your neck and shoulder meet, pushing away the fabric of your dress to give him more access.

“Thomas,” you whine. “Not now, I’ve only just stopped retching.”

“Darling,” he says apprehensively. “There’s something I need to speak with you about,” you eye him and he leads you to a chair, motioning for you to sit down. “There are some very important things that need to be done in the coming weeks. And, upon reflection of your current state, I think it’s necessary to do some things differently.” he clears his throat. “I need to go to the Cheltenham Races,” your eyes light up. “To meet with Billy Kimber,” your eyes darken. “And my dear, it’s far too dangerous for you to go with me.” Your face falls. “And,” he continues, taking a deep breath. “I am going to ask Grace if she will go with me.”

A fire lights in your eyes. You rise from your chair so quickly it makes your head spin, but the anger coursing through your veins is strong. “What?” you ask him, eyes narrowed.

“I am going to ask Grace to go with me to the races.” he repeats himself and you nearly come across the desk at him.

“Thomas Shelby!” you roar. “Why in bloody fucking hell would you do that?”

“There will be a lot of important people at the races, my love, and if I can figure out if she is different around any of them, I can figure out what her motives are,” he said calmly, both palms planted firmly on his desk, arms spread wide, chest flared. “That is all.”

“Is it?” you nearly scream, turning your back to him. “Thomas, is it, really? When I came down the stairs a few weeks ago, you were standing awfully close to her.” you told him.

“Darling, how many fucking times do we have to go over this?” he said exasperated. “I am in love with you. You have every piece to my heart–hold them in your pretty hands. I cannot fathom loving anyone else!”

“I never said anything about love, Thomas.” Your arms were crossed in front of you, turning towards the door, not wanting to look at him.

He lets out an angry sigh. “So you think I have the energy to fuck someone else?” he says.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, turning back around to face him.

“It means,” he says, tone dark and dangerous. “That you think I have the energy to run a company, be the patriarch of my family, come home to you, keep up with your voracious appetite for sex and fuck another woman? Is that what you think?”

Your mouth drops open, shocked at his cruel words. You remember to shut your mouth before snapping back, “Don’t forget you’re going to be a father soon. One more fucking thing to add to your list!”

You storm out of the office and walk to the library, your place of solace, and slam the door. You could hear glass rattle as Tommy slammed his hands down on his desk, shouting a “Fuck!”

You spent the rest of the afternoon in the library, alternating between being so angry with your husband and crying and reading and sleeping. You were exhausted by the end of the day.

You knew of Tommy’s reputation before the two of you were together. His brothers oftentimes teased him about it when you were first courting, before you began sleeping with one another. You’d met a few of them, actually. May Carlton, being one. Lizzie Stark, for another. They’d both been beautiful women in their own right who’d come calling after him, curious as to where he’d dropped off to. When he turned them down, proudly declaring he’d taken a woman, the look on their faces was enough to break your own heart as well as theirs. You knew what kind of a man Thomas Shelby was, because you fell in love with him. His strength, his intelligence, his unencumbered cockiness and arrogance was more than attractive. It was downright intoxicating. You, and these other women knew what he was capable of–in violence and in kindness. And to have that attention targeted specifically at you, all of the time… well, it gave you a sense of power.

And the thought of it all being taken away by one blond barmaid… it made you sick all over again.

After Tommy realized you weren’t coming out of the library any time soon, and he drained the last of his favorite bottle of whiskey, he decided to go get some more.

“Mr. Shelby,” he heard Frances call out after him. “Would you like for me to prepare supper?” she asked kindly, offering him a warm smile.

He put his coat and hat on, turning to tell her, “Just for Mrs. Shelby, please. Please make sure she eats. No matter how angry she is with me.” he tells her.

She nods. “Yes, Mr. Shelby.” She had heard the fight. Frances, truth be told, overheard more than her fair share of things she would’ve rather not heard. Whether it be fights or their loud lovemaking, or conversations Tommy has on the phone with his business associates… she’s heard far more than she wanted. But her heart grew with love for this couple more every day. In a way, she saw them as an extension of her own family, many of them scattered across the globe now, thanks to the war. When he had hired her, Tommy had promised to protect her as if she were one of his family, and so far he had fulfilled that promise.

“I’ll be back later, Frances. Don’t wait up for me.” he tells her.

“Goodnight, Mr. Shelby.” she says as he closes the door behind him.

He drives into Birmingham, rain beating against the car, wind howling. What a night for a fight, he thinks to himself. He was sick to his stomach with the venom he had spewed at you that afternoon. He rarely got into those fits with you, but sometimes you were so unreasonable. So unwilling to listen to his plan, to his logic. He wanted to scream. He wanted to grab you by the shoulders and tell you that you were too fucking important to risk someone, anyone seeing you–thinking that they could get to him through you. One simple observatory look would be all it would take to see that Tommy adored you. Worshiped the ground you walked on. It was his life's greatest fear: that one day, someone would get to him by hurting you, and his world would come to a screeching halt. No. No, it was too much. He simply couldn’t–wouldn’t–risk anything happening to you.

His head was swimming by the time he reached the Garrison, which was eerily quiet. He was soaked, the deluge continuing even into Birmingham.

Grace’s eyes brightened as she heard the door creak open, eager for a patron. Her head felt light for a moment when she spotted Tommy walking through the door. He looked so dejected, worn down.

“Mr. Shelby,” she said, turning towards him. “Are you alright?”

“I just need a drink,” he says, removing his hat and stalking towards the bar.

“Should I leave you alone?” she asks.

He hesitates, warring within himself. “I came here for company,” he says, instantly feeling a bitter pang in his stomach. “Where’s Harry?” he asks.

“He took the night off.” Grace tells him. She hands him a glass of whiskey, and he swallows it down in one gulp. “How’s your beautiful wife?” Grace asks.

He slams the glass down on the table and sighs, leaning back in his chair. “She’s mad as hell,” he tells her, eyes not leaving her face.

“About what?” she asks, walking back towards the bar.

“You know–” he avoids her question. “In France, I never imagined I’d have a wife,” he chuckles to himself. “Never thought I’d have a wife like mine. No. I never did,” he paused, pouring himself another drink.

“But you have her,” she says softly, eyeing him from her position behind the bar.

He closed his eyes momentarily, reliving the moment of intense rage his wife had unleashed towards him that afternoon, and his cruel words that followed. “For now,” he whispers. “Until she realizes her world would be better without me.” he says to himself.

Grace worries her bottom lip between her teeth. A moment of vulnerability. “Could I sing to you?”

“Only if you get up in a chair and act like you’re performing,” he says, only half joking. But she does. She comes back around the bar and climbs up in a chair, clasping her hands in front of her.

“Happy or sad?” she asks.

He thinks for a moment. “Sad.” he replies.

“Alright, but I will warn you,” she says, a small smile on her face. “It’ll break your heart.”

He shakes his head. “Can’t,” she cocks her head to the side slightly. “My wife holds my heart in her hands—for safekeeping.”

The small smile on her lips falls. “Sad it is then,” she says, before beginning her song.

Tommy couldn’t focus on the song. Couldn’t focus on thinking of anything but returning home to you, telling you he was sorry. So sorry. She finished her song and he said, “I need you to dig out a dress, Grace.”

“A dress?” she asks.

“I’d like to take you to the Cheltenham Races.”

And for a brief moment, Grace thought she had won.

You had sat in the library until you heard the front door slam, and a few minutes later, you heard Frances come down the hall. “Mrs. Shelby,” she said softly, opening the door cautiously. “Mrs. Shelby, I’m making supper, please eat, love.” she said.

You hadn’t the heart to tell her no. “I’ll be there in a few minutes, Frances.” you told her.

And you were. You and Frances ate dinner together in a comfortable, familiar silence. “Go on to bed after the dishes are done, please, Frances.” you tell her after thanking her for dinner.

You draw a bath upstairs, soaking until your skin prunes. Tommy still wasn’t home when the grandfather clock in the foyer struck eleven, or midnight.

By one, he was practically crawling up the steps, soaked from the rain. He was missing you, craving your touch. Wanting nothing more than to tell you how sorry he was. He stripped out of his clothes, letting them fall in a pile on the bathroom floor with a wet smack before coming to your shared bedroom in hopes you wouldn’t wake up and shove him out of the warmth of the bed.

You felt him get into bed, his side dipping down under his weight. You could smell the alcohol and the rain on him. You wondered if he had gone to her. Instead of facing him, you pretended to be asleep. He cautiously spread an arm towards you, his thumb gently stroking your arm.

“Light of my life,” he whispered. “Everything that is good to me,” you could hear him sniffle. “I wish I could be a better man for you.”

Your heart broke, hearing your husband's broken heart through his voice.

The next morning, Tommy woke up before you did, as usual, but got out of bed as soon as he woke up, not yet ready to face your hurt and devastation. He was off to the betting shop office before the sun rose. Polly was stunned to see him there so early.

“Alright, what’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing, Pol.” he said, avoiding his aunt's questions.

“Tommy,” she said harshly. “What happened?”

He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I’m going to lose her, Pol.” he said.

Her face fell. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“She doesn’t deserve me,” he said, shaking his head. “She deserves better than me, than this life. This piss-poor excuse for a life I’m giving her.”

Polly shook her head. “No, no, Tommy, it’s not true. She loves you.”

“She shouldn’t!” he yelled. His mind wandered to the baby and tears flooded his eyes, which he quickly brushed away.

“Well, she does. You’re both fools in love with one another, I’ve never seen such. Now whatever it was, go home, kiss her, and make up. You cannot be sulking around here all day. You’re unbearable.”

She left his office, leaving him to think.

You were in the living room, in front of the fire, just beginning a new knitting project for the baby, you’d decided, when Tommy burst through the door, chest heaving. “Thomas?” you ask.

“Angel,” he breathes, walking over to your seat on the sofa, sinking to his knees and burying his face in your lap. He stays there for a moment, inhaling you, taking in how you feel in his hands. “You’re still here,” he says to himself, almost as a reassurance.

“I’m here,” you tell him, running your fingers through his hair.

He lifts his head up to look at you, eyes red. “I’m sorry,” he says, breathing still erratic. “I’m sorry,” he repeats. You guide him up to sitting next to you on the sofa and he buries his head in your chest.

“Thomas,” you say gently. “Thomas, it’s alright, we’re going to fight.”

“I should’ve never said those things to you, I’m sorry.” he says again, as you lay back against the couch. He lays against you, head on your chest, a hand gently on your belly.

“I’m sorry, too, my love.” you tell him, carding your fingers through his hair again. He smiles, pressing a kiss to your cleavage.

He took a deep breath, before adding, “But I am still not going to take you to the races.”

Your face fell, jaw locking, anger flaring. “But why her? Why can’t you take Polly or Ada?” you ask.

“Trust me?” he said, eyes pleading with you. “Trust me, Darling.”

Grace readied herself for the races, ensuring every detail of her appearance was perfect. If she wanted to make any progress with Tommy, she knew she would have to wear at his senses. And if by looking at his wife was any indication, it was easiest to wear at his senses first through his eyes.

She had selected a red dress and ensured her hair was just right, powdering her face. She met him at the betting shop, where she saw him kissing his wife through the front window. They were pulled flush against each other, his hands on her hips, smiling into the kiss, eyes crinkling at the corners.

Grace had never known romantic love of that intensity. Had never truly known that it had existed. But after seeing the Shelby’s–she knew it was real. Grace thought Thomas’ love for his wife was partly the reason she was unfortunately attracted to him. Not all of her undercover work was truly an act, much to Inspector Campbell’s dismay. She found how a hardened gangster, a decorated veteran of the Crown could be so harsh with everyone else, but turn to complete mush in his wifes pretty hands in a matter of seconds was rather—romantic.

She was, in short, jealous of Mrs. Shelby. She had this great love, this earth-shattering connection with a man who was equally as besotted with her as she was with him. She was from a good, normal family, she had researched, although her great grandmother, who had only recently passed away, was a dowager viscountess in the English countryside, who had allowed her son, Mrs. Shelby’s grandfather, to forfeit his title and estate for love. She was remarkably beautiful and devastatingly intelligent–a match for Tommy in all ways. She was gentle and kind to balance his roughness and brutishness.

Her weakness existed in her kindness, and as Grace had discovered, in her loneliness. She had uprooted her life in London to move into the country with Tommy, sacrificing many friends and the opportunity to be close to her family. Her family was reluctant to accept Tommy, even almost a year into the marriage. Mrs. Shelby’s sister, Emile, was the most reluctant as of late, she had confessed to Grace during their lunch.

She continued to watch them through the window. He said something in her ear which caused her to swat at his chest, both of them laughing, his hand on her belly. Grace’s mind turned as he walked out of the betting shop, placing his hat on his head.

“Morning, Miss Burgess,” he said, walking past her, leading her to the car.

“Mr. Shelby,” she said shortly. They rode in silence for a while before she decided to speak. “So why didn’t you ask your wife to join you?”

Tommy took a deep breath in, searching for a cigarette in his pocket. “My wife is far too precious to me, Miss Burgess,” he lit the cigarette, throwing the match out the window. “There are dangerous men who will be at these races, and I cannot risk any of them setting his sights on her.”

“So, why me?” she asked.

He exhaled smoke. “If they want something to bargain with, Grace,” he paused. “You’re my bargaining chip.”

Her eyes widened, clutching her purse. “What do you mean?” she asked.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “I need what I need, Grace, and I cannot use my wife as a bargaining piece. You understand what I mean, yeah?”

Her brow furrowed, offended. “What does that make me?”

He shrugged again. “A barmaid who works for me. A bargaining chip.”

“And your wife was okay with this plan?” she asked.

“Oh, not in the slightest.” He scoffed.

“Because we’re friends?” Grace offered.

“Because she doesn’t trust you.” he said, jaw clenched.

Grace stammered, heart fluttering in her chest. “Why? What have I done to violate her trust?”

“Well, Grace, you take her to lunch and get her drunk, ask far too many questions and then you show up at our home unannounced, touch her husband and leave with little to no explanation about where you found out where we lived?”

She looked at her hands in her lap. How could she have been so careless? “People in Birmingham know where you live, it’s not a secret.” she said quietly.

“Hm,” Tommy said absentmindedly, throwing the butt of his cigarette out the window.

That day, Tommy had asked you to go to the Garrison and look over the figures. Grace had started helping Arthur with some of the figures over the last month, and he wanted you to ensure she wasn’t fudging any numbers.

You walked in the bar and walked straight up to Tommy’s office, exhaling a sigh of relief when you were able to reach your destination with no interference. You sat down at his desk and unlocked the right drawers, pulling ledgers and ink pens from the drawers.

You sat and worked through the ledgers and logs, invoices and receipts for a few hours. You hadn’t realized how late it was until you heard the bustle of the crowd beneath you, and a gentle knock on the door.

“Mrs. Shelby?” you recognized the voice as Caleb’s voice–the young man who thought he was in love with you. You opened the door. “Good evening, Mrs. Shelby,” he said, giving you a boyish grin, holding his hat in his hands. “You look beautiful,” he added.

“Thank you, Caleb,” you smiled softly at him. “Is everything okay?” you asked as he stood in the doorway, gawking.

“Well, I had noticed something and I wanted to tell you, in case it was important.” he said, face turning anxious.

“Oh, absolutely, Caleb, come in.” you tell him, ushering him in the office and offering him a seat.

He looked around at the wooden and gilded office in awe before sitting down in the soft leather seat across from you. “This is Mr. Shelby’s office?” he asked.

“Yes,” you say, a sweet smile on your face.

“He’s a lucky man,” he breathes, eyeing a picture of you on your wedding day sitting on the desk. His puppy love for you was endearing. Tommy had no doubt that if he keeled over the next day, Caleb would propose as soon as the funeral was over, and he had given you his permission, in jest, to accept the proposal. You’d elbowed him in the ribs, telling him to give him a break, he was a good young man from a good family, and only sixteen.

“You said you had something to tell me, Caleb?” you lead, trying to get the young man to focus.

“Oh, yes,” he said, sitting up straight. “I hope you don’t see this as interfering where it’s not my business, but I wouldn’t want to not tell you and something happen to your or Mr. Shelby,” he said sweetly. “The new barmaid–she’s odd.” he said simply.

“How so, Caleb?” you ask, leaning in towards him.

“Well–a week or so ago, Mr. Shelby had a meeting in the snug with his family–I think you weren’t feeling well, so you weren’t there–” he added. “But she was standing very close to the windows of the snug, and at one point almost had her ear pressed against the glass, like she was listening in to what they were saying,” your heart rate began to speed up. “And then she has kept pestering Arthur to have a phone installed. Do you think she has a lover she wants to phone?” he asked, blushing. “I shouldn’t have said that, forgive me.”

You chuckle. “Don’t apologize, Caleb,” you tell him. “How do you know this?”

He pressed his lips together, not meeting your eyes before saying, “I listen to a lot of talk, Mrs. Shelby,” he paused, looking at you. “Not a lot of people here talk to me, on account of me being so young and all, so, I just listen to the conversation, and Arthur, well, he can be loud.”

You chuckle. “Yes, he can be.”

“I hope you don’t find me overstepping in any way.” he said, eager for your approval of his divulgence of the information.

“Not at all, Caleb. I would like for you to tell my husband what you’ve told me, though, please. We could arrange for the three of us to have dinner, maybe?” you offer.

His ears perk at the prospect. “Meet with Mr. Shelby?” he asks.

“Yes, if that would be alright.”

He blushes. “My mother may not approve of me dining with who she calls the devil, but I’d gladly accept, Mrs. Shelby,” his expression changes quickly. “But I don’t think he’s the devil. I don’t think a woman like you would’ve married the devil.”

“You’re sweet, Caleb.” you tell him, smiling at him.

He stands. “Well, thank you for letting me get that off my chest. I hope I’ve helped in some–odd way.” he said. “Have a good night, Mrs. Shelby,” he said.

“Have a good night, Caleb.” you tell him as he shows himself out of the office.

Tommy and Grace were back in the car, on the way back to Birmingham, the ride tense and quiet.

Tommy knew he had upset her, which wasn’t exactly his intention, but he had little regard for other people's feelings at the moment. He had accomplished exactly what he had set out to do at the Cheltenham races, and his mind was soaring.

“Why did you do that?” she asked, a silent tear rolling down her cheek.

Tommy sighed, not meeting her gaze. “I told you, you were to be a bargaining piece.”

“You never told me I’d have to be alone with a man like Billy Kimber!” she yelled.

“I told you, I couldn’t take my wife and use her as a bargaining piece for these exact reasons–”

“So you take me, and have me pose as your whore instead of your beloved wife?” she spat, angry.

“Yes,” he told her. “Yes, that’s exactly it. I’d rather have people think I keep whores than for men like Billy Kimber to think he can take advantage of my wife. That’s exactly it, Grace.” he said.

Grace’s mind whirred with jealousy, anger, hurt, confusion. While she had been able to convince Kimber to not take her, she’d still had to get on her knees in front of him while he spewed hateful, awful, degrading things to her. Tommy had interrupted, barging through the door and falsely accusing her of being a whore with the clap. At the very last second.

“It was what had to be done,” She chewed the inside of her lip. “I will see to it that Arthur adds another ten pounds to your pay this week.”

She scoffed. “You think money will make this all just go away?”

Tommy sighed again, fatigued by this interaction. “It’s all I have to give.”

“That’s not true,” she said quietly.

He chuckled to himself in disbelief. “What do I have that you could possibly want?” he asked.

“What is all of this for? That is what I want to know! What all of this humiliation that I have suffered at no expense to you is for!” she cried out, tears freely falling down her face.

“Family business,” he rasped.

And they left it at that.

When Tommy finally returned home that evening, you were waiting for him in the front room, bursting, waiting to tell him of what Caleb had told you. “My love,” he greeted you, shaking the rain off his hat, hanging it on the rack as you jaunted over to him to help him remove his coat from his shoulders.

“Hello!” you beamed, reaching up on tiptoes, your feet bare, to kiss him.

“You’re awfully chipper,” he smiled, hands on your hips.

“I have something to tell you,” you tell him, looking up at him through your thick, dark lashes. “Are you hungry?” you ask, face immediately turning to concern.

“A little, but it can wait.” he said, smiling softly at you, cupping your face in his hands, rubbing his thumb over your cheek in soft, gentle strokes.

“Tell me how the races went first,” you tell him.

You blush under his attention, turning to lead him to the front room, to the sofa. He wants to be close to you, wants to breathe you in. He pulls you onto his lap, pressing kisses to the side of your throat, hands gently holding you against him. “It can wait,” he tells you, teeth lightly skimming over the sensitive skin of your throat. What did you want to tell me, Darling?” he asks, eyes closed, lips pressed against your throat.

“Well,” a hand lifts to run through his hair. “I went to the Garrison to look over the books like you’d asked,” you begin to tell him. He gently nips at the skin of your neck and you giggle. “Thomas, this is serious!” you giggle again, his hands moving to your bum to knead your flesh.

“Mm,” he muses, lips pressing kisses farther down your neck. “So is this,” he smirks against your skin.

“Well,” you trudge on anyway, hoping what you have to say will pull him from his advances. “I was there for a few hours, and then Caleb knocked on the office door,” Tommy laid you down on the sofa.

“Go on,” he tells you, pulling the neckline of your dress down to press kisses to your cleavage.

“And–” he was making it hard for you to concentrate, hands winding behind your back to undo the snaps of your dress. “Thomas–” you whine as his fingers free the dress from your frame, allowing him to pull it down, bunching at your waist. He hungrily eyes your lace bra, the one he’d brought you back from London a few weeks back.

“You’re a sight,” he breathes, looking down at you, that pretty flush you get when he’s arousing you spreading all over your chest and face.

“Thomas–” you try to protest but before you can, he’s reaching behind your back again, unclasping your bra.

“Can’t I seduce my wife after a long, tortuous day, hm?”’ he asks, discarding your lace bra to the floor.

You smirk at him. “You may if you shut the doors so we don’t subject Frances to more than she ought to hear.” you tell him.

He smirks, jumping off you to close the French doors to the front room.

When Tommy was thoroughly satiated, and deemed you were as wrung out as you’d like to be, he pulled his pants on, smirking as you pulled his shirt on over your shoulders. Your hair was a mess, lipstick smudged and the flush hadn’t left your skin, but this was his favorite way to see you.

You wadded up the discarded clothes that were on the floor, tossing him his undershirt to pull over his shoulders. “Frances ought not to clean up after us this much,” you tell him, hugging the clothes to your chest in an attempt to hide your breasts from beneath Tommy’s shirt.

“You’re right, love,” he tells you, walking over to where he’d tossed a pillow onto the floor, setting it back on the couch. He stalks over to you, hungry look still in his eyes. “I’ve worked up quite an appetite, Mrs. Shelby,” he tells you, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m going to go get some dinner, and I’ll join you in the bath after, eh?” he said, delivering a stinging swat to your backside.

You blink at the contact, desire stirring within you once more. “Yes, Sir,” you tease.

He bites his lip, groaning, dropping his head to your shoulder. “You awful woman,” he teases, groaning into your skin. “You know how wild that makes me,” he says, hands gripping your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh.

“Yes,” you smile. “That’s why I say it.”

He pulls away from you. “Go draw the bath, Darling, I’ll be up soon.”

Frances smiles knowingly at Tommy when he walks into the kitchen. “Mr. Shelby,” she greets.

“Frances,” he replies, feeling out of place with how he was dressed. His feet were bare, and suddenly he was all too aware of how cold he was, the cold tile on the floor of the kitchen making him shiver. Scout paced back and forth in front of the back door. He opened it, letting her out, a cold wind blowing in behind her.

“Chicken stew for dinner, Mr. Shelby,” she says, pulling a bowl out of the warm oven and adding a piece of bread onto a plate, setting it on the small table in the kitchen for him.

“Thank you, Frances.” he breathes, sitting down at the table, nearly inhaling every bite of food.

“Is Mrs. Shelby alright?” Frances asks, back turned to him, standing at the sink, washing the last few dishes. She watches as Scout patrols the back of the property, bounding after a rabbit.

“Yes, she is.” Tommy replied, taking a drink of his whiskey.

“She’s been sick in the mornings, no?” Frances asked.

Tommy sighed. “There’s a baby, Frances.”

A smile grew on her face. “That’s wonderful, Mr. Shelby!” she said.

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” he told her, pushing his bowl away from him, finished.

Frances walked over to the table, taking his empty bowl. She gave him a sympathetic look. “Mr. Shelby, if I may,” she paused, looking for a sign of approval from him. He nodded. “I believe you will be a wonderful father, if how you treat your wife is any indication,” he looked up at her with a puzzled expression. “I’ve worked for many families, Mr. Shelby, for nearly thirty years now,” she laid a hand on his shoulder. “And I’ve never been with a man and a wife with so much love between them. Most men treat their wives horribly, mistresses and alcohol and anger they never learned to control,” she says. “But you treat your wife like gold, and I know you will treat a baby no differently. You will be a good father.” she tells him.

He nods, drinking the rest of his whiskey down. “Thank you, Frances.”

Tommy came up to the bathroom and nearly fainted at the sight before him. You were in the bath, surrounded by bubbles, the scent of rose and jasmine in the air. You lifted a leg out of the bubbles, pointing your toes at him, a naughty smirk on your lips. He loved your legs.

“Mrs. Shelby,” he rasped, shutting the door behind himself. “I’m rather cold, would you care to warm me?” he asked, removing his undershirt and trousers, waiting at the edge of the bath for you to make up your mind.

His mouth was practically watering at the sight of you. “Come in,” you smile sweetly, moving forward in the tub so he could squeeze in behind you. You giggle as he sloshes water over the sides, settling in behind you, leaning you back against him, his arms wrapping around your body.

“What were you trying to tell me earlier, my love?” he asked.

“Oh before you seduced me?” you giggle, hands intertwining with his.

“Yes.” he says, a smirk on his lips.

“Caleb told me something very interesting, and I’d like for him to tell you himself, so I invited him for dinner. Would tomorrow evening be okay?” you ask.

He sighed. “You’re a cruel woman, you know?” he played with you.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“Playing with the poor boy’s heart,” he says. “Of course, I don’t blame him for being infatuated with you, but inviting him to dinner, my dear,” he let out a disapproving ‘tsk’ sound. “You’re really just playing with his heartstrings.”

“Thomas,” you elbow him in the ribs, earning a chuckle from him. “He knows I am yours,”

“As does everyone in Birmingham,” he jested, toying with your diamond ring.

“I think he only wishes to try and protect us.” you tell him.

“You mean protect you,” he corrects gently. “He could care less if I was shot tomorrow. It’d give him an in to be with you.” he laughed and you elbowed him again.

“Thomas, I’m serious. I think he really does mean well.”

He sighed again. “I know, Darling, I’m only joking,” he presses a kiss to your shoulder. “He is rather loyal.” his wheels began to turn. “Like a–like a loyal dog.”

“Thomas!” you squeal, squeezing his thigh under the water. “Don’t be unkind, please!”

“Okay, alright, my dear, I’m sorry. I will refrain for making any more jokes about your loyal puppy.”

“Thomas!” you chide, turning around gently in the tub, back against the other end, facing him, your feet resting on his chest.

He takes one of your feet in his hands, thumbs moving in gentle circles. “If my punishment is getting a better look at your legs, I’m alright with it.” he smirks.

You shake your head, a look of disbelief on your face. “You’re ridiculous, Thomas,” you giggle as he switches to massaging your other foot. You bite the inside of your cheek, thoughts running rampant of how your husband's day went. “Did she try anything today? Try to get you to pull over and fuck her on the side of the road?”

Tommy’s thumbs dug deeper into the sole of your foot. “My love,” he pauses, his eyes shifting to a darker blue. “How many times do I have to tell you,” he pressed a kiss to your ankle. “That I am all yours?”

“But–she’s new and beautiful and interesting,” you counter.

He presses a kiss to your calf, eyes continuing to darken. “I think,” his hands slide up your leg to your thigh, hands kneading the soft flesh. “One of the most wonderful things about marriage is the idea of continually learning about one's spouse,” he continued, hands moving up your torso to cup your breasts. “I am still learning things about you, every day,” he says, pressing a kiss to your nose. “Like how your hair lightens in the summer,” a kiss to your eyelid. “And how you detest when I sleep facing you because I am a mouth breather in my sleep,” you giggle. “And how good you are with plants,” he reminded you, bringing your thoughts to your flower garden you’d planted last spring. “And I think something I am most excited about, with being married to you, is the adventure of continually learning and knowing more about you as you change. As we both grow older and maybe wiser,” he chuckles and you roll your eyes. “I will never tire of you,” he brings your hands to his lips, pressing kisses to your knuckles. “You will always be beautiful and I would pick you every time, out of any crowd of women to be mine.”

Tears are in your eyes as he pulls you closer, more water spilling over the sides of the tub. “I love you, Thomas Shelby,” you tell him as he presses his forehead to yours.

“I love you,” he whispers, “The only thing in this life that I am sure of. I love you.”

A round of gentle pleasure later, you and Tommy emerge from the now cold bathwater, both thoroughly pruney, but clean. He towels the both of you off before carrying you to bed. Frances had let Scout back in before she had gone to bed, and Scout followed Tommy down the hall to your bedroom, where she laid outside the door after he shut it behind the two of you.

He lays you in bed, settling you under the covers before walking over to the fire and adding another log to it. “I will ask Caleb to dinner tomorrow, my love. Please go over the menu with Frances in the morning.”

“Okay,” you sigh, curling into the covers.

Tommy slides in bed next to you and you subconsciously move closer to him, already drifting off.

The next morning, Tommy drove to town, wanting to pay Caleb a visit at the factory he worked in. He knew their first break would be around nine, and he made it just in time before he had to be at the betting shop.

“Caleb St. Clair!” he called out, the young man smoking a cigarette on the steps of the factory.

“Mr. Shelby,” Caleb said surprised, standing to his feet immediately. His heart raced in terror, fearful he had overstepped the night before.

“I hear you came to pay my wife a visit yesterday,” Tommy said, narrowing his eyes at the young man, lighting a cigarette.

“I only wished to help, Sir.” Caleb said.

Tommy nodded, tossing the match into a puddle near their feet. “I know, boy. My wife trusts you, and she’s asked that we invite you to dinner this evening at our home, so you can relay this very important information to me yourself.”

“I just–”

“Don’t want anything to happen to her?” Tommy finished, a blush spreading over Caleb's cheeks. “Me either. Which is why you’ll be at our home by seven this evening, Mr. St. Clair,” he says, clapping him on the shoulder. “Try not to ogle at her too much, will you?” he says, a faint smirk on his lips.

“Yes, Sir, Mr. Shelby.” Caleb says, an embarrassed smile on his face.

“Seven o’clock tonight!” Tommy said, walking away, back towards his car.

“I’ll be there!”

Seven o’clock sharp, there was a knock on the door. Tommy answered the door. “Come in,” he said, opening the door. Caleb stepped over the threshold and was in awe. He looked at the crystal chandelier hanging above them, the portraits of Thomas and Mrs. Shelby hung on the walls in gilded frames, photos of Tommy’s prizewinning horses scattered throughout the photos of the two of them. “Welcome to our home, Caleb.”

Caleb was pulled from his trance, the grandfather clock behind him striking seven. At that moment, you descended down the staircase, taking both of their breath away. You wore a beautiful light blue dress with a modest neckline that hugged your hips. You smiled at Tommy, who gave you the most tender look.

“Caleb,” you greeted him as Tommy took your hand as you came down the last two steps. “I’m so glad you could join us.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.” Caleb told you, holding his hat in his hands.

You led them to the dining room, where Frances had set a beautiful table. The food was spread out on the table, and no sign of Frances. You smiled as Tommy pulled out your chair for you, on his right. Tommy sat at the head of the table, with Caleb directly across from you.

“Now,” Tommy said after everyone had a hearty helping of roast, vegetables, bread and cheese on their plates. “Please repeat the story you told my wife, Caleb.” he said, setting his napkin in his lap. Caleb nervously followed suit, mouth watering at the spread on his plate.

Caleb repeated his story, word for word, just as he had told you, in between bites of the roast.

After Caleb’s story was finished, Tommy sat back and thought for a moment. He knew you’d be opposed to what he was going to ask next, but knew you wouldn’t challenge him in front of your guest. “Caleb,” Tommy said. The young man looked at him, eyes wide. “How would you like to work for me?”

You nearly dropped your fork, eyes wide. A surprised expression passed over Caleb’s features. “How would I work for you, Mr. Shelby?” he asked.

“I would ask that you keep an ear out for things like this, and report back to me, in an effort to keep my wife safe,” he started. “I’ll pay you well,” he says. “But we can discuss that as gentlemen,” he eyed you apprehensively. You were trying desperately to not let your mouth drop open.

“I would like to help, Mr. Shelby.” Caleb said.

“Good!” Tommy said. “Eat all you’d like, there’s plenty. Take some home to your mother and sisters if you’d like.” he said.

After everyone had finished eating, Tommy excused himself and Caleb to his office to discuss pay. You sat in the front room, fuming. Caleb was a sweet, innocent boy. He didn’t deserve to be dragged to this world.

Tommy and Caleb emerged from his office about fifteen minutes later, shaking hands. “Good man,” Tommy told him, leading him to the front door.

“Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Shelby,” Caleb said, eyeing you from the front door.

“You’re most welcome, Caleb.” you say, smiling at him.

He smiles that embarrassed smile of his, and turns for the door. “Simmons will take you home, it’s too long a walk for this late at night.” Tommy told Caleb, Simmons at the front of the house with the car. Before Caleb could protest, Tommy held up a hand. “It’s no trouble at all. Good night, Caleb.”

You scowled at your husband, disbelief and dread filling your body. “I cannot believe you, Thomas Shelby.” you tell him, standing up to move away from him when he got close to you.

“What do you mean?” he asked, brows furrowed.

“You cannot manipulate everyone, Thomas!” you yell.

“My love,” he says, the tone of his voice even. “He wants to help us, help you, and we need unsuspecting ears and eyes everywhere, especially with the baby,” he tries to reason with you.

“He’s a good boy, Thomas!” you scream. “His mothers only son, and you’re going to get him killed!”

Tommy sighed. “Dearest, it’s going to be alright. No one will suspect him.”

“And what if they do? What then, Thomas?” you ask.

“If something happens to him,” he says gently. “We will set up an account for his mother and sisters. They will be taken care of.”

Caleb admitted to Tommy that he had lost his father in the war. He was his family’s primary source of income. Tommy vowed to him that he would pay him well, and pay him weekly.

“Thomas,” you began to cry. “This is all too much,” you say.

He walks over to you, apprehensively, pulling you into his chest. “He agreed to it, my love. Everything will be alright. He won’t be in danger unless he puts himself in danger. He will be alright.”

“It won’t be fair to his mother.” you say, hands on Tommy’s chest.

“Then would you like for me to pay her, too?” he asks, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“I’d rather you have just left them alone.” you sniffle.

He tightens his grip on you. “I know, my love, but sometimes we must do unpleasant things to protect what we hold most precious.”

Your heart sinks as you wonder, what the root of this was all really about.

#tommy shelby x reader #tom shelby #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #sneakyblinders #my au <3 #peaky fookin blinders #peakywomen #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine

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bruh-changbin · 11 months

Text

patience is a virtue (teaser)

part 3 of invasion of privacy series

pairing: lee heeseung x afab roommate!reader

genre: smut, angst (minors dni)

word count: 7k

synopsis: third and final installment of loser roommate heeseung series. read part 1 here. read part 2 here.

posting: august 2-4

taglist is open

order confirmed. you will be updated when your food is en route for delivery.

as if on cue, heeseung’s stomach lets out a cavernous growl. he pats it comfortingly as if to say ‘it’s ok, soon you’ll be filled to the brim with an ice cold baja blast and 2 crunch wrap supremes. just hold on a little longer.’

nothing quite like eating away all of your sorrows.

it’s easy to forget how pivotal a kitchen is in one’s everyday life until it’s stripped away from you like a baby from its mother. ok, maybe not stripped away. more like consciously avoiding it to make sure that you don’t have an awkward run in with your roommate who performed oral sex on you several days ago and is now sending you mixed signals. the thought of having to hold an actual conversation with you makes heeseungs skin crawl.

he’s been successfully avoiding you for 4 days now, ensuring that he only leaves his room when absolutely necessary - and only doing so when he’s positive that you’re in your room or out of the house. before exiting his bedroom he spends minutes with his ear pressed up to his flimsy bedroom door, making sure the coast is clear before making a break for it.

one may think he’s being extra. just talk to her for crying out loud! but heeseung has managed to convince himself that you think he’s bottom of the barrel scum; the last piece of bread that always gets tossed; the mosquito on your wall that you whack with a rolled up newspaper as soon as you see it.

trash!

and so, he spends his days rotting away in his bedroom, his mattress now donning a permanent indent of the shape of his body; his trash can overflowing with wrappers from taco bell and mcdonalds; his laptop struggling to keep up with all of the mind-numbing streaming of shitty television he’s been doing.

one time he gave into his hopeless romantic side and watched the notebook but it made him cry so hard he woke up with a migraine. now, he sticks to scrolling through tik tok and watching reruns of below deck sailing yacht and survivor.

he can feel his eyes starting to get heavy when a vibration from his phone jolts him back to reality, scrambling to find the device that he so mindlessly tossed underneath his comforter. his fingers finally come in contact with it, and he peers at the lit-up screen.

your food has been delivered. receipt/tip available.

yes! it feels as if his stomach has been quite literally eating itself for the past half hour, so heeseung leaps up at the prospect of soon having food in his belly. in fact he’s so excited at the idea of his taco bell order waiting for him that the thought of doing his ritualistic check to make sure he won’t have a run-in with you completely slips his mind.

so, when he swings open his door and bolts down the hallway, head filled with nothing but thoughts of chowing down on a tortilla filled with meat, lettuce and cheese, his heart practically falls to his stomach when instead he almost literally runs into you. you, holding a glass of water with your eyes wide like a fawn, taking in heeseungs dishevelled appearance after not seeing him for over half a week.

shit.

#enhypen smut #lee heeseung smut #heeseung smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen blurbs #enhypen x reader #lee heeseung x reader #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung fanfiction #lee heeseung blurbs #heeseung fanfiction #heeseung blurbs

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theviolenttomboy · 8 months

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An extremely simplified explanation on how Nintendo exclusives work

When it comes to Nintendo exclusives, they're split between Nintendo first parties and Nintendo second parties. Nintendo 100% owns their first party IPs (Mario, Zelda, Animal Crossing, etc.). Meanwhile, another company owns/shares ownership with a Nintendo second party but deals have been worked out so that the IPs in question almost never go to another console (Kirby, Fire Emblem, Pokemon, etc.). This is why the official banner for the Nintendo Tokyo Store is this:

This is also why Kirby and Fire Emblem fans always get to eat good compared to other Nintendo IPs; they got their own dedicated companies that barely focus on anything else.

Nintendo has seven in-house dev teams and some subsidiaries to develop their first party games. (Nintendo is probably looking into expanding their workforce as they are currently working on constructing a new building.) If you're wondering why they haven't done anything with one of their older IPs in forever, most likely reason is that all the teams are too busy with other projects (plus Miyamoto has gone on record to say they won't make a new game if they don't have new ideas). Long gone are the days when less than a dozen amateur programmers could bang out a couple games in a few years. That said...

If all of the Nintendo devs are too busy, sometimes a third-party company will be hired. While the third-party company will be entrusted with the IP, they will not gain any ownership rights. If the game turns out successful, the same company may continue with future installments. Rare handled the Donkey Kong Country series so well during the SNES days that the story goes when Microsoft acquired Rare in 2002, Microsoft execs were surprised that the Donkey Kong IP wasn't included. That that said, a lot of the go-to trustworthy third parties are also busy with their own games, so this isn't always an immediate option.

For both second and third party companies, multiple accounts seem to collaborate that while Nintendo does have guidelines and have some say over the final product, maybe even have one of their own guys over to observe, they otherwise don't try to micromanage. That means that 1) the companies have their own input and style but 2) Nintendo doesn't control the workforce environment there, for better or worse. (Better: Platinum Games was free to be as horny as they wanted for Bayonetta 2, even encouraged. Worse: Game Freak's current situation.)

#nintendo #tried to make this as neutral as possible #just kept seeing some same stuff 'round the web #that brought this on

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astoundingbeyondbelief · 26 days

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Kaiju Weeks in Review (March 31-April 13, 2024)

It took forever (maybe they were waiting on the returns for Godzilla x Kong), but Apple TV+ has finally greenlit season 2 of Monarch: Legacy of Monsters. According to its listing on the WGA site, it'll run from 2024 to 2025. Multiple spinoffs are also in development at Apple; no details on those yet.

Speaking of Godzilla x Kong, it continues to do well, staying #1 at the domestic box office in its second weekend and falling to #2 (behind Civil War) in its third. Current totals are $158 million domestic and $437 million worldwide. It'll soon pass the domestic gross of Kong: Skull Island and the total gross of Godzilla vs. Kong.

Godzilla vs. The Mighty Morphin Power Rangers II #1 promises more of everything: more heroes (the White Ranger joins our heroes from the first comic), more villains (including Psycho Ranger Ghidora up there), and more alternate universes. Godzilla gets a bit buried in all the Ranger antics though.

A couple of kaiju series debuted on TV too: Kaiju No. 8 and Season 2 of Chibi Godzilla Raids Again. The former followed the manga very closely, and as such didn't really keep my attention; hopefully it innovates a bit more going forward. Chibi Godzilla's as irreverent as ever.

youtube

Tsuburaya Productions has released preliminary information on the next installment of the Ultra Series, Ultraman Arc. The logline:

A town called Hoshimoto City... On Mt. Shishio, there is a gigantic object towering above the city. Named "Monohorn," (モノホーン, Monohōn) it is actually a kaiju’s horn stuck in the ground since an incident 16 years ago. After the incident known as "K-DAY" in which kaiju appeared all over the world at the same time, monster disasters have become commonplace. In Japan, the Global Defense Force (GDF) uses force to deal with them, while SKIP works closely with the community in scientific investigations and evacuation guidance to prevent the occurrence and aggravation of kaiju disasters. SKIP has also been investigating the Monohorn, the horn of the galactic beast Monogelos (モノゲロス, Monogerosu) that appeared on K-DAY. Yuma, then only 7 years old, was camping with his parents in Mt. Shishio when Monogelos attacked. After miraculously surviving unscathed, he decided to pursue research into monster biology. Despite his traumatic past, he has not lost his “power of imagination” to dream. As a rookie investigator, Yuma joined SKIP and was assigned to the Hoshimoto City Branch. Not long after, another large-scale monster disaster occurs in Hoshimoto City. As Yuma sees the desperate people in front of him, a strong will springs into his mind — “I want to protect them!” At the moment when this strong and straightforward desire welled up from the bottom of his heart, Yuma hears the voice of Rution (ルティオン, Rution) a being of light that he once saw as a child: “You and I are one and the same… Unleash your imagination!” When a mysterious light appears in Yuma's hand and envelops his body, the unleashed power of imagination unites light and man and he transforms into Ultraman Arc, the Giant of Light who protects the future! Alongside his precious friends, Yuma, as well as Ultraman Arc, races towards his everlasting dream!

Yuma is played by Yuki Totsuka, while Takanori Tsujimoto is the lead director. He's directed for the series since Ultraman X, but this is his biggest assignment to date.

After beginning to release select Movie Monster Series figures in the States, Bandai America is now fully back in the Godzilla game, with articulated figures, 5-inch vinyls, blind box figures, and transforming eggs all up for preorder at the Godzilla Store and other toy sites. The eggs come from the 2014 Godzilla-E.G. line and the rest is all-new. Not much of a selection so far, but with how big Godzilla is right now, I'm sure there'll be more to come.

SRS Cinema has opened preorders for its War of the Ninja Monsters: Jaron vs. Goura Blu-ray, due in late July or August. Shinpei Hayashiya's latest epic, it'll come with behind-the-scenes footage and maybe a commentary track, which would be nice given how little information is available about his films online.

#kaiju week in review #godzilla #monarch legacy of monsters #war of the ninja monsters jaron vs. goura #toys #ultraman arc #Youtube

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xoxoladyaz · 10 months

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I'm Gonna Getcha Good

(Female Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson, Canon Divergence, Originally published on AO3)

A/N: I'm hoping to have updates for the Paramedic series and the final installment of "It Hits Different" up this weekend, but until then, enjoy part one of my series in which Stevie Harrington is just as obsessed with Eddie as he is with her!

“This is getting really sad, Harrington.”

Robin’s voice snaps Stevie out of her stupor, causing her to drop her ice cream scooper on the ground for the third time that day. Shit.

“I mean, seriously, Eddie Munson?”

“I know,” she groans, sparing one last look out into the food court. Eddie didn’t come to Starcourt all that often, but he usually parked himself next to the Jamba Juice with his friends when he did, which meant that Stephanie got to ogle him for the approximate fifteen minutes it took for him to slurp down his smoothie.

“Like, if there’s anyone out there who hates your guts more than me, it’s him,” Robin continues, disbelief coloring her words.

Stevie shut her eyes and exhaled sharply. It’s fine. She’s fine. “I know, Robin.”

“I mean, even if he was into preps, your friends made his life a living hell.” While Stevie normally enjoys listening to whatever Robin feels like rambling about – even though Robin has made it clear that she’s definitely not Stevie’s number one fan – she really, really doesn’t want to have to listen to this. “I’m just saying, maybe you should aim lower. I think Jim the janitor is looking for wife number three.”

Stevie slams her now dirty ice cream scooper into the wash bucket behind the counter with more force than she probably needed to use. Whatever, it shuts Buckley up, and when Stevie declares that she’s going to take the trash out, she doesn’t argue.

By the time Stevie is back in from her errands, Eddie and his friends are long gone.

/////

“Here.”

Stevie glances up from her packed lunch – leftover pizza for the second day in the row because she hasn’t had the energy to cook anything recently and just keeps ordering takeout – to see a sheepish looking Robin Buckley sliding a cup of USS Butterscotch across the small break table towards her.

“What is this?”

“It’s a genuine ‘I’m-sorry-for-being-a-bitch’ sundae.” Robin settles into the chair across from her, still looking a little peaky. “I, uh, definitely went a bit too far yesterday, and I made you upset and I get it, I mean, I’d be upset if someone made fun of me for who I like, and I didn’t know that you really liked him but I should have known because every time he shows up you get these big puppy dog eyes and - ”

“Robin, Robin, stop!” Stevie drops her pizza and holds up her hands. Robin cuts off and flushes bright red. “It’s okay. Really. Besides, if there’s anyone who deserves it, it’s me.”

“I don’t know, Harrington,” Robin replies slowly, and there’s a glimmer in her eyes that Stevie hasn’t seen before. “You keep doing things that sort of blow my mind. I think I might even be starting to like you.”

Stevie can’t help herself from smiling, nor can she stop the snort that leaves her throat. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? Do you want me to call a doctor?”

“Ha ha, you’re hilarious.” Robin rolls her eyes, but she offers her a small smile in return. “Seriously though, Eddie Munson? Like, have you ever even talked to him?”

“Honestly,” Stevie reaches for her sundae and starts digging in, “I didn’t really notice him until after I graduated.”

“Really?” Robin scoffs. “He’s kind of hard to miss.”

Stevie shrugs. “I don’t know, I didn’t really care about anyone outside of Tommy and Carol when I was friends with them, and then after Barb died I felt like I was barely able to care about myself.”

Robin doesn’t say anything, so Stevie pulls her gaze away from her quickly diminishing sundae and towards her coworker. “What?”

“Are you, I don’t know, are you okay?”

Stevie feels herself relax which, huh, she didn’t even know she was tense. “I think so. Graduating helped. Finally getting away from Tommy and Carol and Billy Hargrove helped. Deciding to go to cosmetology school helped. And the kids - ” Stevie breaks off with a fond laugh, “the kids help a lot too.”

“Huh.” Robin is still just sort of looking at her, and that glimmer in her eyes is brighter. “Well, I’m jealous you got out of there. I still have a year left.”

“Ehh, you’ll have a better senior year than I did,” Stevie shrugs again.

“Seeing as Billy Hargrove isn’t obsessed with me, yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Just break a plate on his head, that’ll fix that.”

Now Robin’s eyes are so wide, they’re practically popping out of her head. “What?!”

Stevie bursts into laughter and yeah, Stevie thinks she’s starting to like Robin Buckley.

/////

“I still don’t get it.”

It’s been nine days since Stevie’s last Eddie Munson sighting and eight days since Robin and Stevie made up over some USS Butterscotch, and this time when Eddie and his friends sprawl around their usual table, Robin joins Stevie in her watching.

“Did you have some sort of awakening after watching The Breakfast Club or something?”

Stevie frowns, but she doesn’t pull her eyes away from Eddie. “What breakfast club?”

“You haven’t seen – no, you know what, I’m not going to let you change the subject this time. Why Eddie Munson?”

Eddie throws his head back, laughing wildly, and Stevie is suddenly wildly jealous that she’s not the one sitting at the table making him laugh.

“Stevie. Dingus.” Robin jabs her in the side and Stevie hisses but it’s a success, she’s paying attention to Robin now. “Why. Eddie. Munson.”

“I just – I don’t know,” Stevie sighs, rubbing her now sore ribcage, thank you Robin Buckley. “He just so alive and outgoing and real. And I dunno, I think it’s kind of sweet that he adopts all the weird loner kids at school, and I like his curly hair and his leather jacket - ”

“Stevie.”

“ – and that weird jean jacket vest thing that he always wears, and the rings on his hands, and his hands, his hands are huge and did you know that he can play the guitar because apparently he can play the guitar, I saw his friend putting up a sign for some band that he’s in - ”

“Stevie.”

“ – and he has such pretty eyes and a gorgeous smile and God his arms, have you seen his arms when he rolls his sleeves up - ”

“STEVIE.”

“ – and I want to drink smoothies with him and go to the movies with him and make out in his crappy van with him and then take him home and tie him to my - ”

“STEVIE!” Robin shrieks, smacking her hand across Stevie’s mouth, and it’s loud enough to draw the attention of the sophomores passing by the shop. Robin waves along with her other hand, and they shoot the pair weird looks, but they move past.

“First of all,” Robin finally says as she drops her hands from Stevie’s mouth, “never talk to me about the disgusting sex you want to have with Eddie Munson ever again, I will have literal nightmares about what you told me.”

“But - ”

“NIGHTMARES, Harrington! And second of all, Christ, I knew you had it bad, but I didn’t know you had it that bad.”

Stevie can feel herself blushing bright, bright red. “No I don’t.”

Robin just blinks at her. “Oh, really?”

“Really.”

“So you’d be able to talk to him like a normal person then?”

Stevie nods even though on the inside she is screaming NO NOPE NO WAY ABSOLUTELY NOT.

“Great, because he’s coming in here.”

Apparently her flight instincts don’t kick in when fighting interdimensional monsters, but they do kick in when Eddie Munson is within talking distance, because she’s dropping onto the floor and crawling underneath the counter before she can realize that’s precisely what she’s doing.

“Uh huh. Totally normal.” Stevie glances up at Robin and yep, Robin looks about as unimpressed as her tone. “I lied, by the way. He and his friends just left the food court.”

“Blergh.” Stevie knocks her head back against the counter and sighs. Robin shows her mercy, though, and lets her sit there and recover for five minutes until the kids come charging in, wanting Stevie to let them sneak into another movie which she does because she’s a pushover. Worrying about the kids is enough to get Eddie Munson off her mind, at least for now.

/////

If cosmetology school doesn’t end up working out, maybe Stevie should join the secret service or something because hey, she’s really good at surviving Russian torture. She can almost imagine the look on her father’s face if she added that to the resumé he continuously tailors on her behalf. Suck it, Dad.

(She might be a little high still.)

“I’d be a great secret agent,” she tells Robin, although Robin is still puking her guts up in the toilet next to her and probably isn’t listening. “Like James Bond. And Henderson could be Q!”

“Ugh,” Robin finally moans, “how do you know James Bond characters well enough to name them?”

“Uh, because my dad is obsessed with the movies, they’re, like, the only thing he watches when he’s home.”

“That sounds awful.”

“Ehh, Sean Connery is sort of hot. I like his accent.”

Robin makes a fake retching sound. “That is the worst thing you’ve ever said, ever.”

“Oh come on, are you telling me Connery doesn’t do it for you at least a little bit?”

“First of all,” Robin snorts, “he’s old enough to be my father, and second of all no, he doesn’t do it for me. I’m more of a Honey Ryder girl,” Robin sighs out, and then she falls quiet, too quiet.

Oh.

“Well,” Stevie starts slowly, because she only has one shot at this, “your opinion is definitely wrong, because Solitaire is obviously the better choice.”

Robin sputters, and then she’s laughing, and Stevie tucks and rolls underneath the stall until she’s sitting across from Robin, and then they’re both laughing.

“Are you seriously arguing with the lesbian, dingus? Honey Ryder in that bikini is so fucking hot!”

“Uh, yeah, but she’s no Jane fucking Seymour, Robin!”

/////

Russian torture definitely sucks, but Stevie emerges on the other side with Robin Buckley as a best friend, and for Robin? She’d be tortured by a million Russians.

She’s really glad Robin is there in the aftermath. She’s a good distraction, goading Stevie into more arguments about James Bond and Bond girls and other movies when they finally run out of Bond films to talk about, and having Robin’s voice fill up the silence helps, especially on those nights when she can’t fall asleep without seeing Billy Hargrove’s corpse, or seeing the look on El’s face when she finds out that the chief isn’t coming back this time.

She doesn’t miss the mall. She doesn’t miss Scoops and its shitty customers and its even shittier uniform. She doesn’t miss Robin, because they’re working at Family Video together every day now. But in those moments where she lets herself not feel guilty for missing anything at the mall – which are few and far between, because everything has been tainted by Russians and by death – she lets herself miss the time she spent watching Eddie Munson from afar.

But then one day, Dustin Henderson walks into Family Video wearing a familiar baseball-styled tee, emblazoned with a large demon, and suddenly her days of watching Eddie Munson from afar are back, and it’s all going to be totally fine.

/////

It is not totally fine.

It is not totally fine, because now that Dustin and Mike and Lucas are in Eddie’s little club, they will not stop talking about it. More specifically, they will not stop talking about Eddie, and how cool he is, and how awesome his hair is, and did you know he’s in a band and he can play the guitar, Stevie, why don’t you play the guitarand he listens to metal music and it’s the coolest shit ever, stop telling me not to swear Stevie, you’re not my mom and Eddie’s really smart, actually, he’s just too smart for the school system and Eddie just wrote the most incredible campaign Stevie, you should have been there, and Stevie is about three seconds away from pulling her perfectly coiffed hair out of her head.

“Is this revenge?” Stevie moans, her face buried in the pile of recent returns.

“Yes, and it is so, so sweet,” Robin sings happily from behind her.

“ – was actually a lich the entire time – are you even listening?” Henderson’s outraged voice squawks from across the counter. Stevie sighs and forces herself to look over at him.

“Yeah, yeah, something about a barhop – ”

“Barkeep - ”

“ – and it turns out he was a witch the whole time?”

“ – a lich, Stevie, a lich – God, why am I even trying? Eddie was right, he said you’d never be able to appreciate the intricate world of D&D!”

Stevie feels herself gape at Dustin, because not only is apparently Dustin Henderson talking with Eddie about her, Eddie apparently doesn’t think she can appreciate D&D? Which, he’s not totally wrong, there are a lot of rules and things she doesn’t understand and she’s really bad at words, which Robin says is because she’s dyslexic, but she does actually try to understand what Dustin is talking about. It just – it makes her stomach feel icky, knowing that whatever Eddie said probably isn’t as nice as what Dustin said, and Dustin is rarely nice when he’s in one of his moods.

Robin, bless her, is apparently offended on Stevie’s behalf, and so she steps up to the plate when it becomes clear that Stevie is speechless. “Please tell Munson that he can judge other people’s capacity for decoding nonsense when he’s going to school full time and has an actual job.”

“And migraines,” Stevie adds in. “Lots of migraines.”

Dustin, at least, manages to look a little sheepish. “Sorry, Stevie. It’s just really exciting to be in Hellfire right now!”

“I know.” Stevie manages her best fond smile, even though she still feels unsettled on the inside. “I’m really happy for you, Henderson. So, how did you fight the lich?”

/////

The thing with Dustin Henderson is if you give him an inch, he’ll take forty-thousand miles, so now Stevie is treated to an hour-long play by play after every single Hellfire session wherein Dustin praises Eddie’s genius and how hard and intense the game is and you should really give it a chance, Stevie.

“Henderson,” Stevie finally cuts him off one Saturday morning. He’s cornered her behind the counter at Family Video after instructing Mike and Lucas to pick a good movie for once in their goddamn lives. Robin abandoned her to trail after the boys (traitor), and after twenty minutes of Dustin talking about the wondrous biology of acid frogs, Stevie’s patience is wearing thin. “I love you. You’re the son I never had.”

“You’re nineteen.”

“Exactly,” she nods, “the son I never had. But if I hear another word about the many uses of an acid toad’s bowel movements - ”

“Acid frog Stevie, weren’t you listening?!”

“ – I am going to lose my mind,” Stevie finishes calmly. (Much more calmly than the situation warranted, in her opinion.)

“This is important information, Stevie!”

“Dustin, how is this possibly important information?”

The bell above the door rings, signaling a customer has entered, but Robin greets them before Stevie gets a chance to. (Not that Dustin would give her the chance to, judging by how furrowed his brow is. He only gets that annoyed little squiggle in the center of his forehead when he’s about to launch into his most passionate speeches.)

“Because these are important things to know, Stevie!”

“Okay, Dustin, I hate to break it to you, but acid frogs aren’t real.”

Dustin snorts. “That’s not true, actually, the acid frogs of Eastern Australia are an endangered species - ”

“You know that’s not what I mean, Dustin!” Stevie throws her hands up in the air. “Your fantasy acid frogs aren’t real.”

“Don’t waste your breath, Henderson,” a nice voice speaks from behind Dustin. Dustin grins at the sound and turns to face the speaker. Stevie, meanwhile, freezes in place, a shiver running up her spine. “Such truths are wasted on the unenlightened.”

Eddie Munson strolls up to the counter, dropping his hand on Dustin’s shoulder and shooting her an icy smirk. “Well, well. If it isn’t the former Queen of Hawkins High. How does it feel to be one of the common folk, your majesty?”

A pair of snorts (coming from a pair of boys in matching Hellfire shirts whose names she can’t recall) trail Eddie’s proclamation, followed by Mike’s laughter from the back of the store. Dustin, the traitor, just shoots Stevie a smug grin.

(And look, she’s not panicking, okay? She’s not. It’s just that this is the first time that she’s ever talked to Eddie Munson, at least in recent memory, and it’s already off to kind of a bad start, and honestly he’s being kind of an asshole right now but ugh she still likes him and wants this to go well, why does she care so much about wanting this to go well?

Breathe, breaths, in, out. Robin rounds the corner and shoots her a worried look, but Stevie just shakes her head. She’s turned worse situations around. She can do this.)

“I don’t think there’s anything common about you, Munson,” Stevie replies, shifting her weight forward onto her right foot so now she’s leaning forward. “But I’m doing pretty well today. Or I was, until someone,” she glances quickly at Dustin before looking back at Eddie, “decided to spend fifteen minutes teaching me the seven best uses for acid frog excrement.”

“It was disgusting,” Robin chimes in as she joins Stevie behind the counter. “And also a little bit concerning, if I’m being totally honest. Like, that’s a lot of time to spend thinking about fake frog turds.”

Eddie blinks at them once, twice, before the smirk falls off his face and he collapses forward with a groan, removing his hand from Dustin’s shoulder so he can drop his head into it instead. “Really, Henderson? Has our kind not suffered enough?”

Dustin huffs out a breath. “It’s important information!”

“And I’m truly honored that you want to share it with me. I am,” Stevie cuts him off before he can continue. “I love our mother-son bonding time.”

“I’m not your son.”

“But I think I’ll go to your father if I have any questions about DND in the future, okay?” Stevie finishes, and she can barely stop herself from grinning, especially when she starts to hear Robin choke behind her.

Dustin just looks confused now. “My father?”

“Yep.” Stevie lets herself grin now and returns her gaze to Eddie Munson, who’s looking over at her now with a confused expression on his face. “Which reminds me, what’s the difference between wizards and sorcerers again? I can never keep it straight.”

Eddie drops his hand and gapes at her. Like, his jaw is practically on the ground. He backs up, away from the store counter and spins around once to look behind him (at his friends, who are also looking equally confused) before turning back around. “I’m sorry, are you – me?”

Stevie shifts closer to him, resting her chin on her hand so she’s gazing up at him. “I don’t see any other dungeon masters around here, do you?”

“What is happening right now,” Dustin murmurs out, and it’s not quite a question or a statement.

“Go play with your friends, Henderson, Mommy and Daddy are talking.”

“I – Mommy and Daddy?!” And now Henderson is shrieking, and Mike is poking his head out from behind the stacks to shoot them a glare, and Robin is trying really hard to cover up her laugh with her cough, and Eddie? Eddie is flushed bright red and just staring at her.

“So, yeah, wizards and sorcerers. I know there’s a difference, I can just never keep them straight. And since Dustin says you know the most about DND out of anyone, I might as well take lessons from the best, huh?”

“Oh my God. Oh my GOD!” Dustin is practically shrieking, and then Robin’s running around the counter and pulling him towards Mike and Lucas, ignoring his protesting.

“I – you – what? What?!” Now it’s Eddie’s turn to squawk.

“Also, I’m really glad you came in today. I mean, it probably was for a movie because, you know, Family Video,” Stevie waves her free hand around, “but I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this to come up.”

“An opportunity for what?” Eddie parrots back slowly.

“To flirt with you, obviously.”

“Obviously – obviously? Obviously?!”

“Yeah, obviously. I didn’t get a chance at the mall because you never came into Scoops,” and okay, she wasn’t planning on laying it all out on the line here, but Eddie’s looking increasingly like he’s two seconds away from running and she’d really prefer it if he at least believed her when he ran away, “which was annoying because our ice cream was way better than Jamba Juice anyways - ”

“What?”

“ – and the kids have been talking about you non-stop for the last three months, and it really means a lot that you took them under your wing, and, I mean, I already thought you were hot - ”

“WHAT?!”

“ – and judging by the handcuffs on your belt, I think it’s safe to say we have things in common outside of the kids. And I might not be like naturally interested in DND or whatever, but I’d let you be my dungeon master anytime,” she finishes with a wink and yep, she broke him. He’s frozen and flushed she really, really wants to see just how far down that blush goes.

The taller of his friends – Jeff, that’s his name – walks forward and grabs Eddie’s arm. “This isn’t some sort of joke, right?”

“Nope!” Robin calls out before sliding to a stop in front of the counter. “She’s been crushing on him for months. It’s honestly been sort of pathetic.”

“Gee, thanks Robin,” Stevie rolls her eyes. Reaching for a nearby receipt, Stevie grabs a pen and quickly scribbles her number on the back. “Here’s my number. I’m home most nights after seven and I have every other weekend free. Make sure he calls me if he’s interested,” she finishes up with a click of her pen, and then she’s passing the phone number to Jeff.

Jeff smiles at her, a small, shy sort of smile. “I will. C’mon, Munson. Let’s go before your face freezes that way."

He grabs hold of Eddie with his free hand – Eddie, who’s still flushed and staring at her – and he motions for their other friend to grab his other arm, and with that, the trio of Hellfire boys leave Family Video.

“That was the worst thing I’ve ever heard,” Mike announces as soon as the door shuts, approaching the counter with a sour look on his face.

“I didn’t know you had game like that, Stevie!” Lucas crows, laughing at the sour look on Mike’s face. Dustin, on the other hand? Dustin looks as shellshocked as Eddie did.

“You – you’re into Eddie?”

“That’s an understatement,” Robin snorts. “Seriously, though, that was intense. I thought you were going to flirt with him, not kill him.”

“What?” Stevie shoots back defensively. “He wasn’t getting that I was serious and I wanted to make sure he knew that.”

“Don’t worry, we all know it,” Mike gags, and it’s enough to set Lucas off into giggles again.

“You’re into Eddie,” Dustin repeats, and then all of a sudden he’s beaming. “You like Eddie! This is PERFECT!”

“Oh, no, no, no! Dustin!” Mike groans, but Dustin is already running out the door.

“Don’t worry, Stevie! We’ll make sure true love prevails!”

“God, do we have to?” Mike whines again, but he dutifully follows Dustin out the door. Lucas shoots Stevie another wink and laughs before following suit, and then it’s just Robin and Stevie in an otherwise empty Family Video.

“That was probably a bit much.”

“Nah,” Robin shakes her head with a laugh. “It would take a lot for anyone to be ‘too much’ for Eddie Munson. He’s into you, dingus.”

“You think so?”

Robin knocks her head against Stevie’s. “I bet you five bucks he asks you out by next Saturday.”

“You’re on.”

/////

Three days later, Eddie Munson leaves Family Video with a wide grin on his face, and Stevie is too busy dancing around in excitement to feel too badly about her five dollars that are making a new home in Robin’s wallet.

#steddie #Steve harrington #Eddie munson #female Steve harrington #stranger things #steddie fanfic #platonic stobin #in this house we love robin buckley #tw: discussions of acid frog poop #too many acid swamps to count #honestly I need to come up with another d&d thing for these fics

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levmada · 2 years

Note

(Not me currently ovulating and meandering over to your latest fic after reading the asks that you answered about it)

I’m… I’m just… really not sure if I’ll be able to form another thought in my head that doesn’t involve being bred by kitty Levi… good god that may never leave my mind ever again…

i had this ready, but this was a very convenient ask👁 not kitty levi... but maybe youll like this.

finally.....the awaited third installment.. to my period sex series... dldr

link to piquant | link to crimson

//period sex, toys (vibrator), praise, multiple orgasms (f!receiving), creampie (f!receiving), dirty talk

“Wider for me.”

You hug the pillow to your face and groan as Levi inches your thighs further apart behind you—not out of pleasure, but the way moving jostles the dull ache behind your lower half.

“Shh…” He presses down on your back, encouraging you to arch, and strokes your hip in comforting circular motions. “It’s gonna feel better soon.”

The round head of the vibrator reappears on your clit, and you don’t need to look to know it’s slathered in a thin gleaming sheen of red and cream. He kept that nestled in your cunt, and made you keep it buzzing still while he laid out the towel and all but strip-teased you. Now you find yourself on your belly, your knees folded underneath you.

You whine, “Please… Please…”

“Don’t worry. I have you taken care of,” he says softly, and tender vibrations buzz to life. He nudges it close and rolls it in sweeping motions.

Your eyes squeeze shut, you uncontrollably rock into it, whining. Your cunt squeezes around nothing. “Put it in. Please.”

The only other thing you need besides the vibrations is to be filled, for the cramps to mellow and ease after a good fuck. You were hesitant before—Levi was the one who suggested this—but you’re irrationally desperate, willing to bed on your literal hands and knees.

He slots his knees outside of yours as his touch vanishes, and a soft sigh can be heard from behind you. You know he’s pumping himself in preparation to push in. “Levi.”

His hand comes down on your ass, just hard enough to make it jiggle before one thumb opens your cunt. “I’m getting to it. Look at you… you’re already dripping. Cute.”

You groan in frustration, rocking forward on the vibrations and reaching down to help pin your cunt open. “Enough fucking around, baby.”

You swear, he shakily chuckles, which dies as his round cockhead pushes past your rim. The breath you didn’t know you were holding collapses in a gasp. Your cunt clamps down, and a harsh curse sounds off behind you.

His hand moves from your cunt to your hip before he’s shoving inside, burying right down to his balls. The relief is instant and enormous. You grind out a moan. What Levi lacks in length pins open your cunt perfectly, filling you out so your silky walls clamp down, feeling every ridge as he pulls back. He gives you a smooth, deep pace from the start, making you unable to swallow a cry, an even louder one as the vibrations increase several notches. You cling to the pillow so you don’t evaporate, tensing. it’s so much more intense with vibrations nestled against your clit, and he’s teased you relentlessly.

“Feel better?”

You pant. “Levi Levi Levi—”

“So much tighter like this,” he groans, pausing to grind his cock in deep. When he starts fucking you again, the blunt slaps of his balls on your cunt join the buzzing of the toy. You’re louder than both.

The combination is mind-blowing. You can barely get out a warning before you turn rigid like steel and bend your back into a perfect arch.

Levi’s jaw drops open as the sea of silky heat surrounding him clamps down tight. It’s so wet it nearly ruins his rhythm, and not just from your gush.

When he pulls out, his cock is coated in sticky cum painted in wet red. His teeth grit. He slams back in, out, taking his time. He doesn’t pause—he knows he’s going to pull much more out of you before you can’t take anymore, and before he falls apart.

With your cheek pressed into the pillow, you keep that slack-jawed expression of utter bliss as the vibrations ebb, but he keeps fucking you with powerful snaps of his hips. Sweat shines on your temple. He shifts—hugging your hips with his thighs so you’re pressed underneath him, and bracing his hand slithered in your hair—which dramatically shifts the angle. You cry out your loudest yet, shivers wracking you every time he buries his cock.

“Close!” you squeak. A few thrusts later, you gasp from the bottom of your chest, he switches the vibrations to the highest setting, and you shriek out your second climax.

“There you go,” he moans, his head threatening to fall back. It feels like you come so much harder the second time, and you’re still not done with him. He strokes the strong vibrations through your slit, and makes himself groan loud and heavy as they tease his cock, close to where you’re connected.

“Fuck, fuck—!” You scramble for the sheets to hold onto, wrangled between your fingers. It's all you can say.

He pistons his cock in and out, finding a much more brutal pace with his hips. His cock is coated now, dripping onto the towel underneath, and there's barely any friction left.

He pulls out, shivers at what he sees, and visibly throbs as he takes the corner of the towel and cleans himself of a stringy red clot, along with much of the wetness.

Your crane your neck, gaping in confusion.

“It’s your fault,” he tells you indulgently. “So wet I can’t even fuck you anymore.”

He switches off the vibrations and puts aside the toy, then pushes three fingers into your cunt. They go easily. “You’re just dripping for it, huh?”

“Mm, I can’t… I can’t help it,” you pant out.

His fingers are thickly coated in sticky cum and blood when he pulls them back out. He uses them to direct your face towards him. You gape.

“That’s right. You’re just a messy girl. And I plan to make it worse.”

He drops your chin, smearing the rest on your hip.

“Fuck, Levi, you’re so dirty—”

"Whose fault is that?"

He cuts you off by sliding back into all that heat. Despite wiping a lot of it off, your cunt squelches embarrassingly loud as he picks up a slow, dragging pace. You gasp, scrambling to spread your shaky legs again.

This time, he takes his time working you up, between shallow rocking until you mewl, and then burying inside with a faster and faster rhythm. Draped over your back with his palm scrubbing your clit, you fall apart once again with a ghostly moan, whimpering, shaking as your climax rams through you.

He doesn’t stop. Blood like wine smears your belly, and up as he scoops your tit into his palm. Your nipples are rock hard, and you jolt when he pinches.

“Now do you feel better?”

You moan, and blather something incomprehensible around the drool pooling in the sides of your mouth.

“That’s okay, you don’t need to say anything,” he rambles. “I can hear you just fine.”

He realizes with startling clarity that he’s close as the words make your cunt tighten up on him again. He spits a curse and sits back on his haunches, his knees bent outside yours. His cock is nestled deep inside, and with both hands on your hips, he pulls you, rocking back and forth, using you. You hiccup a strained whine and push back, trying to fuck yourself.

“Can you give me one more?”

“Ye—uh-huh.”

Fucked out of your mind, and still willing to please him. With a renewed sense of purpose, he slams back in and pulls your back against him, nearly sitting up as he sinks back into a quick pace, though his rhythm is nearly dissolving. Your hand latches onto his hair, and the sweet sting makes him whine into your sweaty throat. He throbs thickly, feels himself rising.

You breathe in a wrecked whine. It sounds like you’re weeping. “So close—”

“Then come.”

He can’t say if you fall apart first, or him, just that your cunt is holding him like a vice when his balls raise and empty, shooting liquid heat deep inside. You moan, loud and wrecked by his ear as a groan slips out past his loose jaw. His brows are pinched as he unloads inside you, and just when he thinks he’s done, his cock pulses, and more shoots inside. All this fucking, and he’s barely been paid attention. He’s been pent-up, and it all comes unraveling now.

You both collapse to the bed in the aftermath, your panting the loudest sound in the room. He pulls himself up, and as his softening cock slips from your hole, crimson gush and thick milky cum dribble down your thighs and his cock, making a mess below. A thick amount of pride glows in his chest. “How about now?”

“S-So much fucking better,” you breathe into the pillow below, breathless.

| levi masterlist | main masterlist |

#im posting a fuck ton today dont perceive me ok #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x y/n smut #levi x you #aot smut #levi smut #levi x mc #levi x reader #levi ackerman fic #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman scenarios #attack on titan smut #cw period sex #tw period sex

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