#and then promptly loses his mind all over again
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
motheroftheantichrist · 11 days ago
Text
He gives off divorced vibes, but also can’t imagine anyone willingly marrying him. I’ve finally come to the conclusion that he is simply still experiencing the aftermath of the middle school situation-ship horror show
63 notes · View notes
hitomisuzuya · 1 month ago
Note
softdom Scara getting so much baby fever he breeds you nonstop to the point he's also a whimpering, lovesick, sweaty mess like bro I know he's definitely a top but I swear on my primogems that bastard whimpers when he has too many rounds I just want him to be stupidly in love and whimpering yknow 😔
scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. breeding kink. multiple creampie. soft dom!scara. praise. some minor degradation.
happy thanksgiving, everyone! this came kinda just came out 😳 i'd bet all the primos i have saved for citlali that this man whimpers and cums hearing i love you.
earlier this morning, scaramouche happened to overhear one of his subordinates proudly announce that his wife was pregnant. and that flipped a switch in him.
a switch that ultimately left you breathless and drooling, twitching and whimpering in pleasure with scaramouche's cum seeping out of your abused hole. shaking and trembling, he started to pull out of you, letting out a soft whimper seeing his cum seeping from your pussy.
"three...three and you are still so tight," he groaned, resting his weight on you and stealing your lips up in a deep open mouth kiss that stole the very breath from your lungs. "your pussy was made for my cock. fuck, you are perfect," his teeth nipped at your lips. the harder he made you cum, the more fuel it added to the fire.
your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head feeling his cock stretch you apart again. the consistency with which scaramouche bullied his cock into your sweet spot long since brought on spontaneous orgasms.
"i love you. i fucking love you so much, do you know that?" he moaned, panting as he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, pushing your knee up to your chest. "i'm gonna knock you up. i am going to marry you. just set the fucking date," he reached down to rub your throbbing clit, shivering as your body twitched in bliss.
"scara..scara," you moaned, your mind foggy. pleasure was nearly shattering your body. you reach your hand out to him, which he promptly took. intertwining his fingers with yours, drawing out his next few thrusts for extra stimulation on your sweet spot.
"that's right," he moaned shakily, squeezing your hand. "cling to me. fall apart for me," taking your other hand, he pinned your them down to the bed next to your head. "now, my wife. look at me with those pretty, pretty eyes and tell me how much you want me to cum inside you again," the better he felt fucking into you, the more to call you his wife.
your pussy clenched like a glove around his cock from his wonderfully excessive praise. squeezing his hands, you leaned up a little to steal a quick kiss. "cum inside of me, scara! i want you to so badly!" you plead, "let me give you children with your beautiful eyes and your scowl!"
scaramouche's cock pulsed, he almost couldn't believe how hard he still was after having emptied himself inside of you three times already. he didn't like losing. he was is a man on literal mission. he knock you up and lock you down.
"fuck, you are going to cum again, aren't you, slut?" he moaned, putting both hands above your head so he hold them down easily with one hand. he scrambled to find your clit again, tearing sweet mewls of pleasure from you as he pinched and rubbed your clit.
your body quaked, the pleasure of his cock scrapping and rubbing every sensitive pleasure you have in your pussy nearly made you limp.
your gasp of pleasure from the knot of your orgasm abruptly snapping apart sounded like heaven to him. having been deemed incapable and inadequate at birth, it is intoxicating for scaramouche to know that he, and his cock were capable of making you cum this hard.
"you need to be fucked fuller, you deserve it. i say so," he whimpered, squeezing your hands as his hips drove into yours. "my wife deserves it," he chuckled shakily seeing your watery eyes lit up. "you like how that sounds, don't you," he cooed, rolling his thumb around your clit in a way that made you see stars. "my pretty, pretty wife."
his words almost made you cum again, his relentless thrusts dragging out the pleasure of your orgasm. "inside, inside," you babbled, the deeper intimate connection of his fingers rubbing your knuckles while he fucked you sent you reeling. "you are the only one in the world for me. i love you," your words fell away in sobs of pleasure for a few moments. "i love you so much!"
hearing those sweet three words sent scaramouche's cock throbbing inside of you. his cheeks flushed hearing the whimper he could barely swallow. cum ribboned inside inside of you, mingling with yours in a squelching mess. "i don't know if it's going to be enough," panting, his hips slowed to a stop, but he didn't dare pull out of you.
"you can handle another, right?" he asked, making you look at him with your breathtakingly fucked out expression. he licked his lips, and shivered as you nodded.
669 notes · View notes
occamstfs · 8 months ago
Text
Roommates’ Trivial Tiff
Tumblr media
Pretty standard nerdy asshole to himbo TF, who doesn't love some cosmic justice ! -Occam
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“You just don’t understand what it’s like dude. You have no idea how hard all this stuff is for me.” Brock was struggling to get through to his roommate, someone he has time and time again been more than cordial with. In response Harvey scoffs and rolls his eyes refusing to engage and instead doubling down, “I’m sure it’s real difficult with all your paid tutors and your-” 
“You’re not even listening bro! You like to think you’re so elevated, like you have all the answers but you don’t even try to understand what anyone else is going through.” Harvey grimaces and briefly tosses about whether or not this is true but stubbornly neglects to internalize the criticism, “Uhh, I do too?” Brock bites his tongue to prevent just blowing up at his roommate and instead he tries a different angle, “Oh yeah? If that’s the case then, bet you know a lot about me huh? Since we’ve been roommates for a year now,” pausing as he narrows his eyes briefly at Harvey, “and ostensibly we’re friends right?”
Harvey struggles not to display his ever present irritation as he retorts, “Of course we are, uh, dude.” Brock does a better job hiding his intentions as he issues a challenge, “so if we were to say, quiz each other you think you’d come up on top lil dude?” With this gauntlet laid there is little recourse in Harvey’s mind but to accept it, there are few times he enjoys showing off so much as in a trivia contest. So what he might have a less than pristine record of respecting oafs like his roommate, he is certainly not to lose in any battle of the wits regardless of topic or stipulations there may be.
Brock puts out his hand and states the stakes, “You can of course bow out whenever, but uh, how about every question the winner takes something from the loser?” Harvey was resolved to win before hearing the terms and is now spitefully even more eager now as he eyes Brock’s side of the room looking for whatever his prize is sure to be.
Without any further clarification Brock promptly launches into the game, “I guess we’ll start real easy yeah? Only fair.” Harvey feels resentment start to brew as he feels he’s being talked down to as Brock goes on, “For starters then, What’s my major?” Harvey audibly gulps and feels his face blanche as he scrambles to find such an incredibly simple answer. This is such an obvious and pressing piece of information it would be impossible not to have it on deck.
Seeing the hesitation Brock laughs incredulously, “God dude are you kidding? How could you not know this, I-” He shifts his jaw waiting for the second shoe to drop as it is suddenly clear he is about to clean house, this asshole is going to learn respect by hook or by crook. Harvey’s eyes that were just hungrily looking through Brock’s possessions now retread their path, searching for the answer, his eyes linger on some sports bandages and protein powder and he kicks himself for forgetting. “Well duh dude, you’re doing a sports medicine or a trainer degree or whatever. Sorry that I forgot what the proper name is, it’s not exactly high in the list of things I need to know.”
Brock stares down at the clueless nerd before him and slowly shakes his head. “Not even close Harv. It’s-” Before he can finish though Harvey stands and shouts, “Don’t fucking call me that! I bet you don’t know mine either!” This leaves Brock aghast, he crosses his arms and narrows his eyes, “Of course I fucking do! You never shut up about it! I’m lucky if my headphones can block out you whining about homework while also constantly talking yourself up! It’s so, fucking, annoying!”
Hurt by this despite his typical apathy to others Harvey starts up once more, “Okay but you didn’t say-” “Computer Engineering.” Harvey blushes in shame, not over his disrespect but of getting the question wrong. Suddenly there’s a hum in the room and the shadows in the corner grow darker and Brock looks around, “Well I suppose that question really tees me up on what to take huh? I’ll take your major.”
“Wha?” caught on the other foot Harvey blinks and sees that his textbooks and assignments are suddenly piled on Brock’s desk. He feels anxiety rise in his chest unsure of what has happened though confident this must be a prank or something. “No no no that can’t be right? What is happening?” He then returns to look at his roommate once more, a scowl plastered on his face as Brock who, despite his impressive stature always aims to present as kind and gentle, cannot help but smirk as he feels he has gotten one over on this jerk.
He stretches, exposing his midriff and flexing  his arms behind his head, perhaps to try and allure or intimidate Harvey, he’s not sure, but Harvey is not going to just take this sitting down.Though at the present, he is too uncomfortable to even vocalize his discomfort as he stands there trying not to shake. Instead Brock begins once more, “Urgh kinda see what all that complaining was about now Harv, kinda got a lot on my plate now hah!”
Harvey stares daggers at his roommate, “Brock I don’t know what kind of nonsense is going through your dumbass ox brain. But it’s not funny, I’m sure you’re used to bullying little g-”
“Excuse me? I’m a bully!? I know you’re not saying that, I go out of my way to be kind, even to little chip on their shoulder assholes like you. I just,” Brock takes a deep breath and flexes his jaw before he continues. “It doesn’t matter actually. I trust you have a vested interest in trying again though right? Surely you want your major back?”
At the moment Harvey is caught between the idea that this is some kind of Christmas Carol-ass dream where he’s supposed to learn a lesson or once more that this is just a prank by Brock. Amenable as he’s always been, Harvey's convinced that behind this lunkhead is the vitriol of the typical jerk jock. In this impossible chance that this is reality though, he can’t just give up his major. He needs it to be an, uh? God what was, no what is his major anyway? 
Harvey looks around in shock as he suddenly can’t bring his current course schedule to his mind, but he was literally in class this morning right? He feels his coursework draining from his mind as fear and rage begin to rise in his frail body. Images of lecture halls and professors flash through his mind before they just as swiftly dissipate, somewhere within him deeper than memory he feels that he was studying something with numbers. Mathematics, physics, engineering, something he was good at. He is determined to get that back as he speaks up finally, “What is the next question.”
Brock smiles and toys around in his head, confident that he will end up on top. “How about you pick this one, give you a fighting chance.” Harvey purses his lips and struggles to produce a question that he knows the answer to that his roommate will not. Oh duh, he’ll just ask him a math question, easy! Certainly not the aim of the game but Harvey just needed to get his life back. “What’s a derivative.” 
“Kinda not in the spirit of the game dude but whatever. I took calc you know. It’s the rate of change in response to a variable. Now since you’re still being an ass how about I lob one back? How about you derivative 𝑓(𝑥)= 2cos⁡(𝑥)−6sec⁡(𝑥)+3?” Harvey is flat stunned, this is some entry level shit but he cannot for the life of him bring the information to mind. He’s just as sharp as he always has been but anything beyond rudimentary trig is continuing to trickle out of his mind. He meekly chuckles out, “uh easy, it’s f(x) equals, uh tan-”
There’s a blaring in his head as both men are aware of his immediate slip up. Energy once more rises in the air as Brock looks down almost pitifully at his roommate this time. “Now I am sorry for this Harvey but, oof that course load! Like you so relish to say, I am just not that bright hm?” Harvey shakes his head as he realizes the horror about to occur. Brock looks a little uncomfortable as he continues, “After failing to pull your little gotcha, I think I’ll just go ahead and have your intelligence.” 
Both men are instantly struck with headaches the likes of which neither could endure under normal circumstances. As soon as the pain arrives though it is converted into a deep profane pleasure. Pins and needles fill Brock’s mind as it becomes heavy. Ideas and understanding fill his mind as a euphoric warmth flows through him. Harvey had enjoyed learning without truly lifting a finger, he had flourished and gained knowledge through no effort on his part but simple absorption. Brock is overcome with the ease at which he will now flow through life. Equally is he overcome by the ecstasy within his body as it only continues to heighten.
Opposite him Harvey clutches at his head as now not only do his learned experiences at university vanish, but all of his capabilities as a student and academic. Even the pleading within his mind slows down as he feels his ability to swiftly process information breaks down. Harvey turns from the man across from him as Brock’s hands feel up and down his musculature in rapturous delight, just in time to see whatever books and tomes he had collected as trophies begin to fade into the aether along with his memories of reading them. He looks down at his hands in confusion and horror, even with his unaddled mind at full steam he could not make sense of what has befallen him. He knows this is not right.
He is unable to find any answers, though as he searches his brain he begins to find a pleasant warmth in the vacuum where there once was knowledge. While his mind has been emptied, the bulge in his crotch demands his attention, which shall likely be a constant issue now that his mind shall evermore be less than preoccupied. He feels his mouth start to fill with drool as he looks down at his cock as it almost feels larger than it should be. He almost laughs at the idea that from now on he may fully be thinking with his cock. He opens his mouth allowing drool to spill out which shocks him back to sense and he turns around to demand that Brock return this all to sense immediately.
Brock for his part is reclined in a chair just rubbing his cock over his shorts almost forgetting about what they had been doing not seconds earlier. He laughs as he sees the expression on Harvey’s face, “Woah dude sorry about that, got lost in my own mind for a second there! No wonder you had, or have rather, such an attitude problem. It all just came so easy to you didn’t it? I mean we could keep going if you want, what else do you have to lose yeah?” Harvey wipes the drool from his face and takes stock, he can still read, he is pretty confident he still passed high school, he remembers his life before whatever hell is currently happening as well as whatever this new reality is. He nods his head and pushes his erection down as it continues to rise upon seeing his roommate’s cocky repose. He answers, “let’s keep going. Your question right?”
Harvey can’t help but trace Brock’s traps as he shrugs, “If you insist lil bro. What’s my middle name?” He knows this one for sure, he would bring it out to tease his roommate as needed. Brock slams his arm down in excitement and shouts, “fucking Laurel!” then he recalls this is only half the battle, Brock must also get his wrong, “what’s mine?” Brock smirks once more and laughs as he stretches to scratch his back, his roommate hungrily staring, “you don’t have one dude”
The energy rushing between the two men is drastically different this time. Unlike the pleasurable prickles of knowledge or the soothing burn of loss there is a direct, deeper connection between the two. Brock’s grin grows wider as understands, “Oh I getcha, question’s a tie so we share the spoils Harv. Only fair that since you’ve the mind of a what, meathead? May as well have the body of one.”
Harvey watches as his roommate takes off his shirt, he feels a warmth in his chest as he stares directly at Brock’s pecs. His breath catches as he watches his roommate flex them and he feels a nervous energy begin to surge within his own. He’s never had pecs before but he feels his chest pushing, growing, into his shirt. He sees his nipples harden and grow too large to ever hide as his chest expands. His swallows to stop from drooling once more as he sees Brock pose and flex his massive biceps, forcing a burning delight down the whole of Harvey’s arms. He matches the pose of the powerful man he has spoken nothing but ill of and flexes, sweat immediately staining through his shirt as the energy and strain heats his body beyond reason.
Tumblr media
At the same time both men drop into a crunch, there is a loud tear as the pants of both men tear as they reach the lowest point in the crunch as Harvey’s ass bursts larger and his thighs swell with strength well enough to carry his increasingly top heavy torso. Not only is Harvey to gain the muscle of a tight jock, but the masculinity expected. The cock he has been til now proud enough of pulses with his heartbeat, with each pump it gorges larger, veins thick as the ones surging down his biceps force his cock thicker and further down his strained shorts. He tears at his pants to free his bulge as his balls bloat to the size of eggs, they pull tight ass they’re exposed to the air and all the soreness, strain, and pain of his still growing body becomes agonizing delight.
Tumblr media
Harvey’s eyes water as he struggles to even stay cogent with the pleasure and power coursing through him. He smells his new musk breaking through his senses. Through the burning bedlam across his body he feels a soothing burn as hair begins to sprout and thicken where every man should make clear his masculinity. His pubes thicken and curl beyond his waistline and his pits grow wild and begin to spread to make it clear they, nor his musk, can ever be contained.
He lies, sits, writhes, flexes, exists in nothing but pleasure for some time, no longer concerned for his lost intelligence, beyond the care of his education. His hands, larger and painted with still thickening hair, press tight against his body as he feels the new contours of his body. Each new valley and mountain is a testament to the ecstasy he shall now prioritize above all. Until his roommate’s voice breaks through the haze, “Fuck bro you’re really feeling yourself huh?” Harvey’s eyes open to see Brock’s arrogant sneer has only grown worse as he has contendly watch Harvey lavish his new corpus.
Harvey meets it with a scowl and Brock tilts his head, “Want to do one last question then, bro?” His smile grows tight as he tries not to laugh as the appellation of bro has become the paramount definition of this once genius. Harvey just nods his head, still understandably disoriented as he lies in a pool of his own sweat and pre that remains dripping directly onto the floor. Brock motions for him to ask whatever the presumably final question is but is met with a grunt and a wave of the hand. Brock grimaces slightly, “if you insist bud,” he grimaces slightly as he looks down at the man. Asshole he may have be, may still be even, surely there’s something Brock could do to fix even that. He leans to whisper the question in Harvey’s ear, “what color are my eyes.” 
Between grunts, Harvey strains to look at his roommate only to find them obviously closed. His body contorts with pain and pleasure as he feels the throes of defeat and one final lose begin to seize him. He groans out through clenched teeth as his jaw widens and his brows thicken as changes already begin to work upon his mind, “don’t… know…” Brock nods and sits next to his roommate laying Harvey’s head on his lap. At the point it would be a kindness for the man to forget his life before, and that is exactly what he is to do. 
Brock removes the memories and identity of the sour nerd that made life perpetually unpleasant not only for him, but anyone unlucky enough to grace his presence. His breathing speeds up as his body heat rises beyond imagination, sweat turning to steam in the cold dorm room as he shakes his head and clenches his fists. He writhes only briefly, each flex of his body a final protestation of Harvey as Brock erases even his name from his head. 
After a minute of this his body goes still before he opens his eyes blearily and groans. Still lying in Brock’s lap he stretches his arms, turning to smell his impossibly rank pits before turning it into a flex as he must do anytime he raises them. Brock watches this with trepidation, unsure of who exactly his roommate is to be now before suddenly a name surges into his mind, Bull. Perfect fodder for the jerk he once was and an apt name for the behemoth lying on his lap. Testing the waters Brock pats his chest to wake him up, “Morning Bull.”
He yawns and scratches at the same stubbled face he has always known and he sits up, “urgh got a massive headache bro, must have gone pretty hard to have a hangover this bad huhuh! Wanna go grab brekkie and hit up the gym?” Brock stifles a smirk and helps his roommate up to standing, slightly surprised to see him standing taller than himself before responding, “You got it big guy, how about you get some clothes on first though right?” Bull guffaws, looking down at his hairy sweat-drenched body as he throws an arm around his roommate, cock bobbing around in the open air, still chubbed up. “What would I do without you bro huhuh!” 
Brock looks to see all of Bull’s tops have changed to stringers and tanks. Where Harvey had nothing but pants Bull has piles of unwashed athletic shorts, one of which he promptly throws on, going commando. Seeing Brock watch him, Bull grabs at his crotch and juts at the door, “Come on bro! Faster we get a pump in faster we can get back here and have some fun dude.” 
With that Bull again throws his arm around Brock, once more smelling his b.o. as he almost deliberately spreads it on his roommate’s neck, like an animal marking its territory. The two then off to start their day, in Bull’s mind as they always have. Brock feels his crotch grow weightier as the amble down the hall, unsure if he’s made a horrible mistake in all this. Who is he to say what is too far in acts of cosmic retribution. Brock is certain at the end of the day he and Bull are at least to have quite a bit of fun.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
justmeinadaze · 4 months ago
Text
A Love That Will Survive (Eddie Munson X You)
Tumblr media
A/N: I seriously have no idea where this came from but I worked really hard on it and I think it's the longest story I've ever written.
Please enjoy <3
Warnings: Husband Eddie & Fem Wife Y/N, The timeframes shift from young to older with 20 years of Marriage between them, SMUT, lose of virginity, dirty talk, lots of needy energy but all of it is with the love these two have. FLUFF, dad Eddie loves his kiddo and wife and vice versa.
ANGST, reader has an unexpected pregnancy her senior year of high school, she's from the richer side of Hawkins so her parents hate Eddie causing problems multiple times, Eddie and Y/N are in therapy, reader feels Eddie pulling away, Flashbacks with fights between the two of them (verbally), Eddie gets into a fight defending Y/N when some asshole grabs her arm. Y/N defends her husband against her parents. Eddie talking about fears of becoming his dad.
More than anything this is about a couple who's struggled with trials and tribulations of life and marriage but still love each other immensely.
Word Count: 12,541
Eddie Masterlist/ Donate to Me
1986
“Dooooo you love me more thaaan Henderson?”
“Yes. That was the easiest question you’ve ever asked me.”, Eddie chuckles as he blows the smoke from his cigarette towards the window. 
“Do you love me moooore than D&D?”
“Uh oh. They’re getting harder now. Of course, baby.”, he smirks as he kisses your forehead.
“More than your guitar?”, you giggle as he heavily sighs and tosses the stick between his fingers out the window before flipping you onto your back as he nuzzles his nose into your neck. 
“How dare you bring my guitar into this!”, he lightly scolds as he nibbles at your skin making you laugh harder as you wrap your arms around him. “Y/N, I fell in love you the moment I met you. I was waitin’ for a girl like you…” Your eyes roll as he laughs through his teeth before singing, “…to come into my life.”
“You’re such a dork.”
“I love you to.”
***
2006
“So…how have things been this past week?”, the therapist asks as her gaze shifts between the two of you. 
Neither you nor Eddie says a word as his eyes penetrate into the floor as if hoping it would open and swallow him up. You two had been married for almost 20 years and to some that would be an incredible milestone of love but little did the people around you know how mind-numbing marriage had become. 
When you two met there was a fire within him that you absolutely adored. He was always so animated about things he enjoyed like playing guitar or D & D. Even when he spoke about you, his hands would flail as he desperately tried to get the words to leave his brain to accurately describe how perfect you were to him. 
You weren’t sure when it happened but at some point that light and the romance just…disappeared. When Eddie came home from work smelling like motor oil and beer, he barely said two words to you before showering and crashing in bed. If he didn’t promptly fall asleep, he would pound his feet against the mobile home floors in his sweats and slight beer gut with his bare, tattooed heavy chest on display as he headed out front again to smoke a cigarette. You still thought he was incredibly attractive with scruff along his chin and the way his lose strands of hair hung around his face when he pulled it back for work. Unfortunately, the two of you hadn’t been intimate in quite some time, barely even holding hands anymore when you went out somewhere. 
The few times you did have sex, you both only took off the clothing required and he thrust into you with barely if any foreplay until you both came. Afterwards, there was no cuddles or soft kiss. You two would roll over and just go to sleep.
“Y/N?”
“Huh?”
“How’s this week been?”, the therapist asked again but softer as if treading water.
“Oh, uh, it’s been alright. Caleb went back to school on Sunday so that was hard. I miss him when he’s away.”
“I can imagine. Having any child away from home is hard but when its your only child…oof.”, she chuckles. “How about you, Eddie? How did you feel when your son left?”
“Um, I mean…it’s fine. I miss him to but I’m proud of him for going to school so…”
“Neither of us got to.”
His eyes close slightly before focusing on the woman in front of him. 
“Why did you say that just then, Y/N?”, she asks in her inquiring high pitch voice that tells you, you just stepped into a “lesson”.
“I just meant that I’m proud of him to.”
“Because he got into college or because you two didn’t?”
“What’s the difference?”
“That’s what I’m asking you.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.”, you growl. “I’m proud that my son doesn’t have to struggle like we did. He can go out, live his life, and do whatever he wants. That’s all I ever wanted for him.”
“Because of me you weren’t able to.”, Eddie grumbles.
“That’s not what I said.”
“Not in so many words but—”
“Do you blame him?”
Everything became silent as your husband leaned back on the couch and heavily sighed. 
“No, I don’t.”, you responded sternly as you folded your arms. “Me getting pregnant wasn’t his fault.”
“But you resent him a bit?”
Without waiting to hear your answer, Eddie got up and stomped out of the office.
##############
1986
The metalhead paces back and forth with his hands on his hips as you sit silently on his bed with your head hung. 
“I don’t understand. We were so careful and we used protection. How could this have happened?”
“The nurse suggested that the condom may have broken.”
“It didn’t look that way.”
“Oh, because you checked it thoroughly before throwing it in the garbage?”, you respond sassily as he angrily glares your way. “What are we going to do, Eddie?”
Hearing the pain in your voice breaks his heart and he promptly places himself beside you to pull you to his side. 
“Everything’s going to be alright, sweetheart. We can do this. We graduate in a couple of months and then I can get a job at the shop over here. I know cars so it shouldn’t be a problem. You, of course, can stay here till we find a house and then we can—”
Your lips cut him off as you cup his face in your hands to hold him to you. When you pull away, his palm laces around the back of your neck to keep your forehead on his.
“Will you marry me?” When you giggle through your tears, he can’t help but laugh as well. “I’m serious. I can take care of you, babe. Plus, you know I’ve wanted to marry you since I first met you. We’re just kind of…skipping a few steps here…”
Your eyes watch him as he yanks off one of his rings and kneels down on one knee in front of you with your hand in his. 
“I’m gonna get you a better ring, princess, I promise but like you this is special to me and I mean it when I say I want you to be my wife forever.”
Smiling, you kiss him again as you slide his ring on your finger. 
“Of course, I’ll marry you, Eddie Munson. 
***
The entire ride back home he didn’t say a word; chain smoking his cigarettes along the way. 
“Eddie, wait. Can we talk?”, you plead as soon as you enter the front door.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
 “I don’t resent you or the life we have!”, you scream as he tried to disappear down the hallway. 
“Oh, great. Thanks, sweetheart. Now that I know that I can fucking sleep tonight.”, he responded with a tone that had you huffing as you ran after him into your bedroom. 
"What I resent is this!" His intense, brown eyes follow your hands as you gesture absently between the two of you. “When did you stop fucking caring?!”
“I do care.”
“Do you?! You barely talk to me anymore, we don’t spend time together, and when you are here physically you seem gone mentally. You always have a cigarette or a fucking beer in your hand… I mean we don’t even really fight anymore. It’s always me shouting at you while you stare at me like you are now!”
“What do you want from me, Y/N?”
 “I just want you to show some kind of emotion! You used to be so animated, Eddie, and now you just…I don’t know. You’re not as passionate as you used to be.”
“I’m not in my 20s anymore, babe. I’m sorry I’m not as spry as before.”
“Like you would know. You don’t even try or anything. We aren’t old, Eddie, and now’s our time to do everything we wanted.”
“Because I ruined our youth by knocking you up?”
Your eyebrows furrow together as you blink back tears that try to push forth. 
“No, you asshole. Because you said, you wanted to spend forever with me.”
With that, you turn around and stomp out the back door. 
##############
1988
“Every rose has its thorn Just like every night has its dawn Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song Every rose has its thorn Yeah it does, Caleb.”
 Eddie softly smiles as his son’s tiny palm taps the guitar his fingers were strumming on. Your own grin paints your lips as you watch him pet his unruly curls before continuing to play. His voice was a bit more rugid than normal but you assumed that was because he had been at work all day and had yet to rest. Even now his jumpsuit hung around his waist and he had patches of dirt clinging to his skin but he missed Caleb a lot when he was away. 
Eddie as a father made you fall even more in love with him as you watched them play or do anything together. He had been working back-to-back shifts to help pay for certain things your son needed and you missed him every day. 
“Hey, baby?”
“Hey, princess?”, he cooed back making you giggle. 
“How was your day?”
“It was alright. Angry customers and stupid people so ya know…Hawkins.”, he beams your way as you come over to sit beside him and pick up the baby to sit on your lap.
“You know you don’t have to work so hard, right?”
“I know, sweetheart. I just want to make sure you both have everything you need and to get us out of this fucking trailer.”
“It’s technically a mobile home…a bit bigger.”, you smirk as he leans forward to kiss your forehead. 
“But you both deserve a house and I still haven’t gotten you a proper engagement ring.”, he sighs. 
“Eddie, I love this ring. It was a part of you and it feels like you’re holding my hand throughout the day.” 
“I don’t deserve you.”, he murmurs with a smile as he kisses your lips before Caleb swats at his cheek. “Hey, hey, dude. She was mine first. Don’t get jealous.”
***
2006
His boots bang along the wood of the back porch as Eddie steps outside to find you laying on the trampoline you had gotten Caleb for his 8th birthday. His son was so ecstatic when he opened the box, begging his father to put it together right that moment. They both spent the evening working as a team to put it together and they laughed the entire time. 
The metal clanked against his belt buckle as he awkwardly climbed up to lay beside you, your eyes closing as you listened to the lighter shut as he lit a cigarette and breathed out the smoke. You would always associate that smell with him. The smell of smoke mixed with his breath that smelled the way he used to taste, intoxicating. The scent of gasoline and his leather jacket when he came home from work. 
Eddie. 
“Do you remember when Caleb broke his arm jumping on this thing and he didn’t even cry?”
The trampoline underneath him shook slightly at your laughter. 
“Yeah, he came in holding his wrist and said ‘Mom, I think we need to go to the doctor.’ Scared the crap out of me.”
“When I showed up at the hospital, he showed me his cast like it was an award or something. He said he was going to be the coolest kid in class.”, he chuckled as you both continued to look up at the sky. “He didn’t need an injury to be cool. Kid was always badass.”
“Do you still love me?”
Taken aback by your question, his head snaps in your direction. 
“Of course, Y/N.”
“It doesn’t feel like it sometimes. For a while I thought maybe this was normal, that we would grow distant as the years passed but…” Your eyes turn to meet his. “…this doesn’t feel normal.”
“What are you trying to say to me right now?”
“Caleb’s an adult now and like you said… you knocked me up. You…you don’t have a reason to stay.”
Eddie blinked as his jaw tightened and you watched his anger flow through his facial features. Rolling off the trampoline, he tosses his cigarette and stomps back into the house, slamming the door for emphasis. 
################
1992
You gnaw on your thumb as you glance towards the kitchen wall clock. Your husband was supposed to be home at 8pm and it was now 11. You had an absolute shit day and wanted to crash early after a long bath but you needed to talk to him about something important. The longer you waited the angrier you became. 
At 11:30pm, the door slowly squeaked open as Eddie tried to quietly sneak in.
“Where have you been?”, you ask sternly eliciting a heavy sigh from him as he shuts the door loudly. “You were supposed to be home four hours ago.”
“I worked late and then Steve invited me out for a beer.”
“It smells like it was more than a beer.”, you sneer as you roll your eyes. “I needed to talk to you about something important but fuck me, right?”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Y/N. What do you want? What’s so goddamn important you can’t wait till tomorrow.” Without saying a word, you try to head towards your bedroom but he quickly reaches forward to grab your arm. “No, hey, I want to hear it because obviously it’s a big fucking deal.”
Furiously, you smack the paper in your hand into his chest. 
“Your son needs school supplies and other things for next week. I get a discount at my store but I still don’t have enough for that and our mortgage payment.”
“Ok.”, Eddie sighs as he scratches the scruff on his face and looks at the list. “Ok, this isn’t too bad. We can—”
“It’s not just this. He’s going to need money for lunches and his teacher said they are going on a field trip in October and he needs to pay for the ticket. How are we going to afford that?!”
“Y/N, calm down. It’s August. We can cross that bridge when we get there.” Again, you try to leave but he tugs you once more. “What? What is it now?!”
“Eddie, it’s like you don’t care! We need to think of these things!”
“Just because I’m not flipping out like you are doesn’t mean I don’t care!”
“You always do this! You always make me the bad guy!”
“That’s not what I said, Y/N!”
“You don’t think I want to go out and have fun with my friends to?! I wish I could have a beer with Nancy and Robin after work but I can’t because I have to do EVERYTHING around here! And that includes figuring out how our son is going to be able to eat, have the things he needs, and also be allowed to have fun with his friends by going on that field trip!”
“When did you get so fucking uptight?”, he grumbled. 
“When I married you, apparently!”
“Yeah. Well—”
“Daddy?” Caleb’s tiny, sleepy voice cut through your argument as you both turned to face him as he rubbed his little eyes. “Mommy? Why so loud?”
“I’m sorry, baby. Were we being too loud?”
“Uh huh.”
As you step towards him, your son automatically extends his arms so you can lift him and he rests his head on your shoulder. 
“Hey, kid.”, Eddie smiled his way as he lightly tickled the boy’s neck with his finger making him giggle as he keened into you more. “Come on. Let’s get you back in bed.”
The metalhead followed close behind as you head for Caleb’s room and place him under his covers. 
“Mommy? Were you guys fighting because of me?”
Tilting your head to the side, you sat by his legs as you turned to face him. 
“No, baby. Daddy and I weren’t fighting. We were…”, you pause looking at your husband for help. 
“We were…talking incredibly excitedly. LIKE THIS!”, Eddie shouts causing his son to laugh. “Sometimes adults forget to use there inside voice.”
“Like—like Jackie’s parents?”, he asks, you and your husband exchanging a knowing look. 
Jackie was the little girl in the mobile home across the street and who Caleb played with on the weekends. At night, occasionally, you three would hear her parent’s fighting and sometimes she would come over for dinner just to get away. 
“Um, yeah, buddy.”
“Except not as mean. No mean names.”
“Pfft yeah. No mean names. Mommy would kill me if I called her something mean.”, Eddie jokes as he makes a slicing motion with his finger and pretends to fall to the floor dead.
“I would.”, you widen your eyes playfully as he beams your way and you bend down to kiss his forehead. “Alright, go to sleep. I love you.”
“I love you to, mommy. Love you, daddy!”
“Love you to, freak. Ow!”, he chuckles when you lightly slap his chest before winking Caleb’s way. 
After closing his door and heading to your own bedroom, Eddie tugs you into his arms and hugs you to his chest. 
“I’m sorry I was late and made you feel that way. I do care. We’ll get him everything he needs and I’d be more than happy to watch him while you hang out with the girls. He’s a cool kid and I know Wayne has been dying to see him.”
Pushing up on your toes, you tenderly kiss his lips. 
####################
2006
“So, tonight is the night, right?”, your therapist asked during your next session.
It had been a week since your conversation with Eddie on the trampoline and he had barely been home that entire time. You knew where he was because you passed the mechanic shop to get to work and his head was always stuck under the hood of a car he was repairing.  
“Yeah, my parents are doing their annual charity thing and we’re forced to be there.”, you sigh as your whole body deflates. 
“No one is really forcing you, Y/N. You’re a grown woman who can tell her parents no.” The therapists head ticked to the side as your own hung. “Why are you still afraid to stand up to them?”
“I…I don’t know how.”, you whisper causing your husband’s eyes to scan over you before glancing towards the therapist. 
“She did it once and it didn’t end well.”, Eddie explained as he straightened his jacket and sat up a bit. “When she told her mom she was pregnant and marrying me, they told her she wasn’t allowed and how ‘unbecoming’ it was for young ladies or some shit. She told her mom to fuck off and her dad got so pissed.”
You can’t help but smile when he chuckles. 
“I didn’t actually say ‘fuck off’ but I did stand up for you. I just hated the things they were saying about how you were beneath us. Oh my God and then he came towards you like he was going to hit you.”
“You jumped in front of me. I was so pissed off when we got home because you put yourself in harms way.”, he shakes his head before his eyes lock with yours. 
“I’d do it again.”
When his toothy grin softened to a smirk, for a moment, you felt that spark again that ignited within you when you two first met. Did he feel it to?
“What happened after that? Why do you go to this event every year then?”, the therapist asks and the moment passes. 
“Huh? Oh, appearances mostly. Since we got married, I wasn’t viewed as much of a slut as some other single mothers in town. It was fucking stupid but…I wanted Caleb to have his grandparents and at least they were good at that”
“Mhmm. But Caleb is 19 and in college…so why do you keep going?”
You blinked as you took in her words as if she just told you the weirdest thing you had ever heard. You genuinely hadn’t thought about it, pretty much going on impulse at this point. 
“I go for her.”, Eddie answers as he exhales and leans back on the couch. “I wasn’t going to allow her to face that chaos by herself.”
“You’ve always been very protective over Y/N. It’s definitely something I admire about your relationship.”
Your husband shrugs as his gaze shifts to the window behind her. 
“She’s my wife and the love of my life. I’d do anything for her…even leave…if that’s what she wants.”
To your therapist that seemed random but you understood. It was Eddie’s way of telling you that he didn’t want a divorce but if you did, he’d understand. 
“I don’t want you to leave. I want you to fight.”
***
1997
“Hey Grandma!”, Caleb shouts after you take off his jacket and hand it to the man your parents hired to work for the evening. 
“Shhhhhh. Now Caleb, how do we speak when at a social function?”
“We use our inside voice and manners.”, he recited, your son smiling as your mother beams at him and leans down to kiss his cheek. 
“Good boy! Oh my goodness look at you in your little suit. You look so handsome.”
“Thank you ma’am. My dad and I went to the store together.”
“Oh? You never would have been able to guess with the ensemble he’s currently wearing.”
“Mom.”, you scold as Eddie’s fingers twitch slightly around your waist. 
“Always good to see you, Angela. Would you look at that? Steve is by the bar. Excuse me.”
“Mom, they both spent over an hour getting ready for this. Can you please be kind?”
“Hm, I can’t make any promises. Oh, Y/N, it’s Michael and his mother. Didn’t you go to school with him?”
Pointing at something in the distance, you grab your son’s hand and hastily make a getaway to where Steve, Nancy, and Eddie were gathering in a corner. 
“Hey, dude.”
“Hi, Uncle Steve and Aunt Nancy.”, he grins as he leans in to give her a hug around her waist. 
“Are your parents here to, Steve?”, you ask.
“Of course. Wouldn’t miss a chance to show off their wealth for the world.”, the man sasses as he points to where they were mingling with other guests. 
As the night wore on, you saw how it affected your husband as he continually either adjusted his uncomfortable clothes or did whatever he could to maintain a conversation with someone even though anyone that passed by usually only wanted to speak to Steve. 
“Y/N, you need to go talk to Michael before he leaves.”, your mom commands as she tries to pull on your arm. 
“Mom, no. Michael and I aren’t friends nor will we ever be or anything else you try to push on me.”
Narrowing her eyes, she succeeds in pulling you away but instead of towards the other man, she guides you into your old bedroom. 
“Y/N, I’m trying to help you here.”
“How can Michael Wescott help me? I don’t need anything from him.”
“You need a better husband and father for that child.”
Your mouth falls open as her insult pierces your heart. 
“Mom, Eddie is a good husband and a wonderful father. He works hard for us both and I love him. I’m sorry you can’t see what an amazing man he is.”
“No but I can see my only child living in a trailer with barely enough means to get by. Honey, he still hasn’t even gotten you a proper engagement ring and it’s been 10 years!”
“I’m taking them both out of here right now! You never took the time to get to know him like I did. If you had you would see why I love him with all my heart!”
As you open the door, you were met with your husband chugging back the last of the liquid in his glass before tossing it onto the floor where it shattered. 
“Eddie…”
Without saying a word, he grabbed your hand and collected his son so the three of you could leave. 
######################
2006
“What do you think?”, you ask as you step into the living room and display your blue, spaghetti strap evening dress with your hair pulled up and away from your face.
Eddie tore his eyes from the mirror where he had been straightening his tie and when they landed on you, he felt his heart skip a beat. 
“I think…wow, you look fucking amazing, princess.”
It had been so long since you heard him call you that and a heavy sigh left your lips at the sound.
“Th-Thank you, baby.”
Smiling softly, he extended his arm for you to take and guided you to your car. The entire drive to your parent’s house, you took an opportunity you hadn’t in a long time and rested your head on his shoulder. His chest heaved but he leaned his head on your own as his palm rested on your thigh. 
“I think you look handsome to by the way.”, you grin as he pulls into the driveway, flashing you a nervous smile with a little chuckle. 
“Thanks. Let’s see what sarcastic comment your parents have to say. I’m guessing something about me not trying or maybe I’ve gotten too fat to wear a suit.”
“Eddie…you’re not…don’t say it like that.”
“Like what? It’s true, I mean I’m not as scrawny as I was 20 years ago.”
“I like the way you look.”, you sigh before turning to open the car door but his hand on your bicep stops you and your eyes meet his. “We can go back home if you want. Steve and Nancy can’t make it and Caleb isn’t here so—”
“So it’s ok for me to leave you to handle your parents alone while they talk shit about me?”
“Ugh, nevermind.”, you huff as you step out and saunter towards the front door. 
“Y/N, wait. I didn’t mean it like—”
“Y/N! There’s my little girl.”, your father grins wide as he wraps his arms around you. “Where is my grandson?”
“He went back to school a couple of weeks ok, dad.”
“Aw that’s too bad.” Ignoring Eddie’s extended hand, your dad drags you further into the house to find your mother who also ignores your husband as she gives you a hug.
“Oh, baby, you look so beautiful.”
“Thank you. Eddie looks really good as well tonight don’t you think?”
“Edward, oh my. Didn’t even see you there, honey, which is shocking given how much weight you’ve gained since we last saw you.”
“MOM!”
“What!? I’m just saying—”
“No, no, sweetheart. It’s alright. I have put on a couple of pounds but in all the right places. I mean, I’m not just slouching forward because I’m lazy. You know what I mean, Norman.”, Eddie winks as he pats your dad on the arm while you try to contain your smile and for added effect he reaches down to adjust the bulge in his slacks. “Excuse me while I go mingle.”
####################
1984
“I think this is the best Halloween I’ve ever had.”, you beam as Eddie chuckles beside you, continuing to slowly turn the merry go round you two were sitting on with his foot. “I think this is the first year I haven’t dressed up like a princess.”
“Well, Sarah Conner, you’re still a princess to me.”, he grins as he hands you another piece of candy. “Are you cold? You can wear my jacket if you want to.”
“No, Kyle Reese. I think I’m alright.”
His smile widens as you lay back and he does the same, placing his bag of treats and fake rifle that rounded out his ensemble above your heads. 
“My parent’s always do that masquerade thing for Halloween and I always hated it.”
“I can imagine. Being stuck inside with stuffy adults in those Victorian costumes would drive me crazy to. Then again being stuck inside with Wayne in a trailer watching reruns of Stephen King movies isn’t exactly thrilling either.”
Eddie grins when you laugh before it tapers off and you both just lay there in each other’s presence. You had been dating this metalhead for about a month and you appreciated him taking things slow with you but as your eyes scanned him over you suddenly wanted more. 
“Thank you for taking me out tonight and showing me a good time.”
“Of course, sweetheart. I like spending time with you.”
“I was wondering…could you…show me something else?”
Eddie’s foot drags along the ground forcing the merry go round to jerk to a stop as he pushes up onto his elbow to look down at you. 
“W-What, um, what would you like me to, uh, show you?”, he stuttered nervously making you giggle a bit. 
“Could you…show me how to…kiss a boy?”
“I mean, I’ve never kissed a boy myself but…”, he laughs through his teeth and your smile grows. “Yeah, I can show you.”
Your eyes remained locked on his as his palm comes down to cup one of your cheeks and he gradually lowers himself till his lips are hovering just above your own. His breath smells like chocolate and nicotine but there’s also a hint of something else you desperately wanted to identify. As his thumb tenderly caressed your skin, his mouth finally connected to yours and as soon as they did you felt your entire body come to life. 
It was a soft kiss at first but soon grew bolder when you figured out what that additional something else was, Eddie. That was the best way to describe it and it tasted so good that your hand snuck just below his ear to hold him closer. 
Your hips twisted to be closer to him and he didn’t miss a beat as his palm slid down you back to press your lower half harder against him. 
“Eddie.”, you whimper involuntarily as his mouth released yours long enough to catch his breath before diving back in just as eagerly. “Eddie, Eddie, wait.”
At your firm command, his hand came back up to cup your cheek. 
“Are you alright? Did I…Did I go too far?”
“No, no. I just…this is all new to me. I want to go slow.”
“I…I understand. I understand.”, he panted as he wiped your spit from his lips and winced slightly as he rolled over back onto his back. 
It took you a moment but when your eyes glanced along his body, you noticed the large bulge pressing uncomfortably against his jeans. 
“I’m sorry.”, you whisper with a slight crack in your tone that has his head shooting up to look your way before following your eyeline. 
“Hey, sweetheart, no. No reason to be sorry. I’ll be ok. Trust me, I’m a guy with all the hormones. I’ve gotten boners in pretty uncomfortable scenarios believe me.”, he laughs hoping to make you laugh as well. “Don’t ever be sorry about this kind of stuff. I can go as slow as you need me to and I’ll be here, babe. I, um, I really like you…a lot.”
Taking ahold of you, he maneuvers you by his side with your head on his chest. 
“I like you a lot to.”
##############################
2006
You watch with a small smile on your face as your husband talks with some of the other guests at the party and you couldn’t help but think of your therapist’s question as you sipped your drink. 
Why did you keep coming here? 
Habit maybe? Until you met Eddie you really did do everything they wanted completely unsure of what else you should be doing. You went to all their events, smiled, and spoke to anyone they told you to, even wearing clothes they suggested because you had yet to really find your sense of self. When you met the metalhead, he showed you a completely different world that you absolutely enjoyed and loved experiencing with him. 
Even when you both got married and had Caleb, you couldn’t picture anyone else you wanted that life with other than him. Sometimes you wondered what life would be like if you hadn’t met Eddie. You pictured an unhappy girl married to an equally unhappy man who was incredibly vain and never home to see his children. 
Your husband was a wonderful father and a good man to you both. Even now with your marital problems, he still came to therapy with you and never once cheated or hurt you. 
“Y/N!”, you mother called interrupting your thoughts. “Baby, look who I found.”
You didn’t even try to hide your sigh when she pushed Michael forward to shake your hand. 
“Michael. How have you been?”
“Oh, I’ve been good. I just closed a big case and made partner at my firm.”
Your eyes widened sarcastically as you nodded while your mom got a bit too excited, clapping her hands and congratulating him. 
“That’s so amazing! Isn’t it amazing, Y/N?”
“Super. I’m, um, I’m just going to…” As you point towards the balcony, your mother grabs your wrist.
“Y/N, be polite and take him with you.”, she whispers.
“I don’t want to be polite.”, you growl as you pull your arm out of her grasp. “I’m married mom. I have been for 20 years to the man I love and have a son with. Stop pushing Michael on me which by the way is super weird that he’s still single after all this time. Didn’t that thought ever occur to you?”
“No because all I thought about was how my daughter deserves better than a man she was forced to marry because he got her pregnant.”
Rolling your eyes, you hurry outside onto the balcony by the pool and inhale the night air as you try to calm down. 
“Hey Y/N.” Sighing, you turn to face Michael who was slowly walking towards you with his hands in the air. “I just wanted to come and apologize for all that back there. I’ve never been the one to ask your mom to introduce me. She does that on her own.”
“Yeah, she does that.” Your eyes scan him over before giving him a polite smile. “Thank you for coming over to apologize. I really appreciate that.”
“It’s no problem. My own mom is a bit pushy to so I get it then again I haven’t gotten married yet so that could be the problem.”, he chuckles and you can’t help but laugh with him. 
***
2002
Eddie storms into the house after work and slams his keys loudly down on the table before heading to the fridge to pop open a bottle of beer. Slowly getting up from the couch you meet him halfway as his fury filled eyes meet yours. 
“So are you going to tell me why you’re upset or…”
“Doesn’t matter.”, he grumps as he stalks towards the sofa and hurls his body onto it. 
“Obviously it does so why don’t you quit with the foreplay and just tell me.”
When he doesn’t answer, you shrug and head for your bedroom, smirking to yourself slightly when you hear his boots bang against the floor as he follows. 
“I came to visit you at work today. Thought maybe we could have lunch or something.”
“Ok…and you didn’t because…?”
“Because when I got there you were flirting with some asshole.”
“I’m sorry what?”, you ask genuinely confused with a hint of sarcasm. 
“Oh, you don’t know who I’m talking about? Tall, black hair, young, looks like Johnny Depp in Nightmare on Elm Street.” When you giggle, his eyes darken. “Don’t laugh at me.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to but I just can’t believe you’re actually fucking jealous of a twenty-year-old who has a girlfriend by the way. What the fuck is wrong with you? After all this time why would you think I would cheat on you now with some kid from work?”, you reply sarcastically.
“Well, Y/N, you’re not fucking me! So…”
Your eyes widen in shock and you wonder if he can see your heart break. Controlling any tears from escaping, your jaw tightens as you tilt your head.
“You’re right I’m not. Maybe I should fuck him. Wouldn’t be the first time I slept with someone who was beneath me.”
It was an automatic reaction that had Eddie moving before he could stop himself. His hands were around your biceps and suddenly you were against the wall with his nose just inches from your own. His chest rose and fell as angry breaths escaped his nose. 
As quickly as it came, it left with a blink as you saw the darkness recede and the man you fell in love with take over again. His mouth fell open as his eyes continued to run up and down your body as if he was trying to figure out what just happened.
“Mom?” 
Both your heads turned to see your teenage son leaning in the doorway with a concerned look painted on his features. 
“Is everything ok?”
“Yeah, baby, I’m fine. I just had the worst day and your dad was trying to make me feel better. Are you hungry, Caleb? Do you want something to eat?”
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Eddie fold himself as he took a few steps away from you. 
“Um, yeah, but I can make myself something—”
“Oh, don’t be silly. Just give me one moment, ok?”
Nodding, he turned to head towards the kitchen but when you swiveled around to face your husband, he had already disappeared into the bathroom and locked the door.
***
2006
Eddie loved watching you interact with people. He knew who you were before he even introduced himself having seen you skip happily around the school with your books close to your chest like Molly Ringwald in any John Hughes movie. You spoke with your hands and smiled as you nodded your head as you seemingly absorbed what people were saying to take a piece of it with you. 
You had always made him feel heard. 
The metalhead thought he didn’t have a chance with a girl like you but when your beautiful eyes landed on him after bumping into him in the library, he knew he had to try. 
Over the past twenty years, he felt like he slowly watched that light leave you and he knew it was his fault. Just like his dad did with his mother, it was unavoidable. 
Going outside to get away from the people in your parent’s house, he leaned over the rail wishing he could smoke but knew if your mom smelled it on him she would have something to say and he didn’t want to deal with all that right now. 
Suddenly, Eddie heard a sigh in the air and as he peaked around the corner, he saw you exhaling into the night sky. 
The way the wind moved your hair had him smitten all over again as he remembered cold nights of you two sitting on his bed with the window open after making love and you in one of his shirts as you leaned your head outside to feel the breeze while he smoked. 
You would smile and he would randomly reach out to touch your face wondering what the fuck you were doing with him. 
Eddie couldn’t help but huff when another man came out to talk to you. 
Michael; the asshole your mom kept pushing your way. 
You seemed annoyed at first but then you laughed. God, he adored that sound more than anything in the world. The first time Caleb laughed he silently thanked the heavens it sounded exactly like yours. 
“I said no.”, you shouted sternly with eyes filled with anger. 
Pushing at his chest, you tried to walk away but Michael grabbed your forearm to turn you around and Eddie saw red.
#########################
1986
As Eddie starts to take off his suit jacket, he notices you staring at yourself in the mirror above his dresser as you carefully untangle your hair from the veil you had clipped into it. 
An idea crosses his mind and he digs through his records before popping in a cassette and waiting for it to play. 
Meeting his eyes in your reflection, you giggle as the synth fills the room and he reaches for your palm that you eagerly take. Wrapping his arms around your waist, you do the same around his neck as you both begin to sway to the music. 
“When you love someone It feels so right, so warm and true I need to know if you feel it too Maybe I'm wrong Won't you tell me if I'm coming on too strong?”
As he sings along, your smile grows and at the chorus he scrunches his face as he obnoxious belts out the lyrics.
“I've been waiting for a girl like you to come into my life I've been waiting for a girl like you, you're a love that will survive I've been waiting for someone new to make me feel alive Yeah, waiting for a girl like you to come into my life”
“You’re such a dork, Eddie Munson.”
“Yeah, but I’m your dork, Y/N Munson.” At the use of your new name, you tilt up on your toes to kiss his lips and lean your head against his chest. “What’s wrong, princess? Thinking about your parents?”
You nod as you continue to sway to the music. 
“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m sure this isn’t exactly how you pictured your wedding day but—”
“Shhhhh.”, you shush as you tilt back and place a finger over his mouth. “I had a great day, baby. Yeah, I wish my mom and dad could accept us but I love you so much. I can’t wait to see what our future holds.”
He sighs as he kisses you again and holds you to him once more. 
“I love you to, sweetheart. You’re safe with me and I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to give you a happy life.”
“As long as I have you, I’m happy.”
***
2006
“Excuse me?”, you ask the man beside you hoping you didn’t hear him correctly.
“Come on. You heard me. You deserve better than the life you have and you we both know people like us aren’t trailer trash.”
“Define ‘people like me’.”
Gesturing towards your parent’s house, he raises an eyebrow as if to signal it should be obvious.
“Wow, no wonder my mother chose you. You’re a fucking asshole.”
“That may be but why don’t you let me take you out to dinner and show you what you’re missing out on.”
“Um, no thanks. I’ll pass.”
As you stand, Michael suddenly blocks you with his body.
“Come on, baby.”
“I said no.”
While trying to walk away, the man grabs your forearm and turns you around, pulling you to his chest.
“I’m not a man you say no to, Y/N.”
“And I’m not a woman you grab. Now let me go.”
When he doesn’t release you, you raise your hand and hit him hard in the face causing him to let you go. You expected and braced to fall onto the concrete so when strong palms catch you, you’re surprised. 
After making sure you’re on both feet and ok, Eddie turns to shove the man hard backward. 
“Don’t ever put your hands on my wife.”
“Or what?”, the man challenges and your husband accepts as he steps forward before you grip his arm to stop him. 
Placing a protective arm around you, Eddie guides you towards the house to head towards the front door. 
“She could have had a good life, Munson! A big house, fancy jewelry, and anything she could want and more. She wouldn’t even have to ask. With my last name things would be handed to her willingly.” 
You saw his jaw tighten as Michael spoke but he continued to ignore him as he grabbed your coat and held it open for you to put your arms through.  
“What’s going on?”, your father asked as he came up from the side. 
“I’m a respected member of Hawkins whose parents helped mold this town. You were just a trailer trash, burn out whose own parents were scum.”
Right as his palm touched the door, he froze and you both listened as the other man stepped closer behind you. 
“Guys like you, Munson, are meant to be the ‘good time’ before women like her marry respectable men like me. Jesus… Your dad was a failure, you’re a failure, and if the accidental pregnancy is any indication so will Caleb. His whole fucking conception was a mistake.”
It was abrupt to everyone in the room except you when Eddie’s fist flew hitting Michael square in the jaw. You didn’t even try to stop him as he headed towards him to hit him more before your parents intervened. 
“That is enough! I will not have this behavior in front of my quests in my own house.”, your mother scolded as she pointed her boney finger at your husband.
“I put up with a lot of bullshit. For over twenty years, I’ve let you ridicule and insult me, put down me and my family, and listen to you whisper in my wife’s ear that she can do better. I have put myself through the ringer including getting on my hands and knees to beg you people to come to our wedding…”
Your eyes scanned him over as tears began to fall from your eyes and your mouth fell open. 
“…yet I’m still just fucking trailer trash that ruined her life? Fuck. You. Yeah, you heard me. We may have had a son and gotten married a bit faster than ‘normal people’ but I always loved your daughter. You think she doesn’t deserve a man like me but over 22 years I’ve learned that she never deserved you as parents. We may have our problems but thank GOD we are nothing like you.” 
“Get out NOW before I call the police! You are no longer welcome here.” Your father shouts as Eddie searches for you, thankful when your hand intertwines with his. “Y/N Y/L/N. If you leave with this man, you will not be welcome back into this house or this family. Any inheritance will be spread elsewhere.”
Chuckling under your breath, you turn to face them still holding the man you love. 
“Honestly, you can take my inheritance and shove it up your ass.” People around the room gasp at your comment as your parents take a step back. “I haven’t been a part of this family since I got pregnant and the only reason we’ve put up with you is because of Caleb.”
“Y/N—”
“No! Jesus, mom, think about it. Eddie may not come from money but at least he doesn’t call my son a mistake.”, you growl towards Michael. “He’s a good man but you can’t look past your own selfishness to see that. If you want to apologize to me and my husband you know where we are. Until then, fuck you.”
As you both turn to leave, you pause to face them one more time. 
“Oh, and it’s Y/N Munson, not Y/L/N.”
##############
1985
“I have a confession to make.”, Eddie breathily laughs as he holds the condom between his fingers. “I’ve never done this before…sex…like actual sex. I’ve done stuff but not like…fuck I’m coming off like an ass.”
You smile as you sit up with his blanket wrapped around your naked body and lean your cheek on his shoulder. 
“No, baby, you’re not. I’ve never…you’re going to be my first to.”
Swallowing, he tilts forward to kiss your forehead. 
“I just don’t want you to be disappointed.”, he whispers.
“As long as I’m with you, I won’t be. I trust you, Eddie.”
Reaching over him, you take the condom from his hand and tear it open like they showed students in health class before sliding it onto his hard, leaking cock. The metalhead hisses slightly at your touch, holding his breath as your palm rubs along his shaft through the rubber barrier. 
“How does that feel?”, you murmur as your eyes watch his face. 
“Feels…good.” When he finally opens his own eyes and sees your smile, he realizes you were asking about the condom. “Oh, I mean, yeah. That feels good to. It’s on there correctly. I’m just going to stop talking.”
Shaking your head, you take hold of his biceps and pull him on top of you, adjusting the blanket over you both. 
“Don’t you dare. I need to hear you.”
“O-Okay.”
Opening your legs wider for him, Eddie reaches between your bodies to take hold of himself and run the head of his length between your folds.
You jump slightly, licking your lips as he occasionally grazes your clit. 
“I’m—fuck—I’m gonna lean back on my knees. Is that ok? I feel like I’ll have more control so I don’t…I don’t hurt you as much.”
After getting your ok, he pushes up onto his knees and continues to run himself between your pussy lips while his free hand massages your thigh.
“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. I’m going to push in now, ok? If you want me to stop just let me know.”
Before this moment, Eddie had asked Steve a ton of questions about what he should do and how best to not hurt you. Nothing, however, prepared him for the immense pleasure he felt when he gradually began guiding his cock inside of you.
“Oh—Oh my God.”
“Are you alright?”
“Y-Yeah, baby. Just—fuck—you feel so fucking good.”
“I do?”
When he aggressively nods his head, you both feel your pussy flutter around him making you both moan; him much louder than you. You were doing all right as he continued, the stretch of him burning but not enough to want to stop. It wasn’t until he had half his cock inside you that you sucked in a breath and his eyes shot up to see yours squeeze closed as your face scrunched in pain.
“Do you need me to stop?”
“N-No. No. Just hang on a minute.”
Nodding, he remembered something his friend told him and you listened as he licked his thumb and gently rubbed slow circles against your clit. 
“Oh f-fuck, Eddie.”
“Yeah, honey? Does that feel good? Fuck me. I’m gonna thrust a bit but I won’t go deeper till you tell me.”
You allowed him to do that till you felt the pain subside and pleasure begin to take over again. Reaching for his arms, you brought him down till he was hovering over you once more and you wrapped your legs around his waist. 
“More.”
“You want more?”, Eddie whispered against your lips before placing a tender kiss against them as he pushed deeper inside of you. “Fuck, Y/N. You are so tight around my dick. I’m almost all the way in.”
“Give it to me, baby, please.”
“Oh my god.”, he mewled as his lips attached to your neck and your arms wrapped around his shoulders. With a rough roll of his hips, you felt the head of his cock nudge something only his fingers had ever touched and your nails dug into his skin as he grunted into yours. 
“Jus—Just like that, Eddie.”
“Like that? Can I take over, baby? Is that ok?”
When you nod, his entire body falls flat against your own with his hand snaking behind your head to hold to him as your own hands slid to his lower back as if to guide his movements. His rhythm hastened and the grunts that were echoing in your ears were the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. 
He seemed to get almost lost in the experience as his hips were hitting you so hard his bed underneath you began to shake. That familiar feeling built up in your stomach but much intensely than you had ever felt before. 
“Eddie…I think I’m…about to cum.”
As your cunt clung tightly to him, you shuttered against him as the coil snapped. 
“Oh my God…Y/N…” His pace sputtered as he a bit aggressively slammed his hips against your own as a strangled moan fell from his lips and his full body weight collapsed on top of you. 
You both panted as you tried to catch your breathes, him gently kissing your cheek before carefully pushing up onto his palms. 
“Ow.”, you groaned as your hand abruptly flew to his back to stop him. “Go slow.”
Nodding, he kissed your forehead and allowed you to guide him as you pressed your palm to the lower half of his tummy while he gradually removed his now soft cock from your extremely sore entrance.
After removing and tying off the condom, he threw it in the trash and rose to his feet. 
“Do you think you can walk to the shower?”
“I…don’t think so…it really hurts.”
Eddie blinks as he almost haphazardly picks you up and quickly scurries to the bathroom. 
“Oh, Y/N. Fuck. I was too rough wasn’t I? Fuck!”
Following his eyeline, you see the light blood that was attached to your thigh and you can’t help but smile as you grab his wrist to bring him to you. 
“Eddie, baby, that’s normal. Or at least that’s what the sex ed teacher says after girls lose their virginity.”
Relief paints his face before he guides you into the shower and stands with you under the hot water. 
“Was I…to rough? I just…I tried to do everything so it didn’t hurt you but I think near the end there—”
“I love when you get all nervous and stutter.”, you giggle as you tilt up to kiss his lips. “You weren’t too rough. I have a feeling I’m going to feel you the next couple of days and…I don’t mind.” You smile when his breathing hiccups a bit at your admission. “Did you…was I…did you like being with me?”
Eddie chuckled a bit under his breath as if you had asked him the most ridiculous question he had ever heard. 
“Y/N, I loved being with you. I love you…so much, pretty girl.”
Circling your arms around him, you held him tightly as he does the same. 
“I love you to.”
#################
2006
Silently, you both entered your home and Eddie’s eyes followed you as you disappeared before reappearing with the first aid kit you kept in the bathroom. After taking off his jacket, he rolled up his sleeves and automatically held his hand out for you so you could clean the cuts on his knuckles. 
When he hissed loudly, you jumped as panic flooded your face before you realized he was playing with you and you lightly hit his chest with the back of your hand as he laughed through his teeth. 
“Dork.”
“I never stopped.”
“Being a dork? I know.”
“No, loving you.” When your gaze shifted to meet his, he continued. “You asked me that night on the trampoline if I still loved you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”
Swallowing your tears, you threw the cotton ball onto the table at your side and reached for the gauze to tape around his cuts. 
“Why didn’t you say that at the time? You just left.”
“I hated that I made you think for one minute that I didn’t. That I made you…question it.”
Biting your cheek, you wonder if you should tell him what’s on your mind but since he’s being so open, you wanted to return the favor.
“I’ve been wondering for a while. I just feel like we aren’t the same, you know? I’ve spent so much time going over our marriage wondering what happened. Wondering…what I did wrong.”
When your voice cracked, Eddie scooted closer to you and took his hand out of your grasp to lift your face.
“You did nothing wrong, Y/N. Do you hear me?”, he replied sternly as his thumb tried to catch any lingering tears that fell. “If anything, I did. There were times I saw myself becoming my father and—”
“Eddie Munson, what the fuck are you talking about? You are nothing like your dad.”
Shaking his head, he released you from his hold as his eyes searched through the void, trying to find the words to express what he was feeling properly. 
“Your parents and people in this town always said I was ruining your life especially after I got you pregnant. No, hey. Let me get this out.”, he scolded as your mouth opened to interrupt him. “Please. I told myself they were fucking stupid because no one knew and understood you like I did. I loved my life with you. The first time I heard my last name attached to your first, I felt like the luckiest guy in the world. The first time I held Caleb in my arms, all my fears of being dad just melted away.
It wasn’t until I tried to find us a house but all we could afford and get approved for was this mobile piece of shit.”, he sighs as he gestures around you two. “That was the first time I felt like I failed you but I pushed it down, you know? Then our 5-year anniversary rolled around and I still hadn’t gotten you a proper ring. 10 years and we still couldn’t get a house. When Caleb was nine and you wanted the three of us to go on vacation but that storm blew in and damaged the car so we couldn’t afford it. With every fight and every sad look on your face, I blamed myself but I pushed it away until…”
“Until what?”, you encouraged. 
“There was that night I came home and accused you of cheating. I said those things… and then I pushed you… listened to you cover for me with Caleb. I just saw my own childhood and everything my mom went through before she died… I didn’t know how to…”
“Eddie why didn’t you say anything? We could have talked about it. You…”, you sigh as you close your eyes and try to think. “We both said some things that night and…you’re nothing like him, honey. You’ve always been such an amazing father and husband. God…I felt you pulling away and I didn’t know how to get you back. Eddie, if for one moment I thought you were like him I never would have married you.”
“I just didn’t want to hurt you again. I didn’t realize by doing that and keeping my distance so to speak I was anyway. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”
You wrap your arms around him, hugging him close to your chest. 
“I’m sorry to.”, you whimper into his shoulder before pulling back to run your fingers through his hair. “I don’t care about the…house and the ring by the way. As long as I’m with you none of that matters.”
His chocolate eyes search your features before Eddie slightly nods and rises to his feet. You listen to him scrounge around your shared bedroom before he suddenly reappears and places himself beside you again. 
“I was going to give this to you on our actual anniversary but I think now is the right time.”, he smiles and hands you a tiny box with purple bow on top. 
Smirking his way, you remove the wrapping and time seems to stop as you open the box to see a beautiful ring inside. The red diamond stone was nestled into its nook making it look like a rose with vines circling around the silver band and skulls on either side. Your husband’s gaze continually scanned over your face trying to gage if you liked it or not. 
“I, um, it took me a while to save for this but when Caleb got that scholarship for his college I felt more comfortable putting more and more money away for this. I-I-I wanted to make sure it had the skulls since you like my ring so much and then I got the—the red stone because you were always such a welcome contrast to my dark, nerdy lifestyle growing up.”, he chuckles as he watches you slide it slowly onto your finger. “Do you like it? If-If not, I can return it and maybe we can go together—”
Your lips cut him off as they crash to his own. 
“It’s perfect, Eddie. I love it. I love you.”
#############
2005
“Oh, mom, don’t cry. I’m not going away forever.”, Caleb teases as he tries to calm you while you cling to him with your arms circled around his waist. 
“I can’t help it. I’m just so proud of you.”
Your husband laughs behind you as he steps forward and delicately pries you away from your son. 
“Come on, Y/N. Kid has a plane to catch.”
Nodding, you release him fully before tilting up to kiss his cheek. 
“Now remember if you need anything—”
“I know, mom! I know. Just call.”, he giggles making you smile. 
After taking a step back, Eddie takes a step forward and pulls his son into his embrace. It always amazed you how similar they both looked especially as Caleb got older. Even though your son kept his hair short, the brown waves had a mind of their own making styling a nightmare when he was smaller. As a teenager, he just decided to leave it be and let it run wild on his head. He seemed to have your laugh and nose but his smile and eyes were all Eddie. 
“Let us know when you land and tell us how your first day goes. I’m still curious what one does in analytical ethics.”, your husband laughs as Caleb smiles. “I love you, son. I’m so proud of you.”
“I love you to, dad.”
Saying goodbye one last time, you lean into Eddie’s side as you both watch your only child head towards security.
“Are you alright?”
“I don’t know.”, you answer honestly. “You?”
“I don’t know either. I know I’m going to miss him but I think we did a good job raising him into an adult.”
Turning fully into his chest, he held you tightly to him and gently pet your head as he listened to you cry. 
***
Your back hits the hallway wall hard as both your lips refuse to detach from the other. There was a needy, feverish energy between you and Eddie that had spent years building and was now exploding in a flurry of heated touches. 
Your hand slid down his chest to the prominent bulge in his slacks and you both groaned as he rolled his hips against your palm. 
“Fuck, Eddie, please. Let me…let me taste you. It’s been so long.”
His lips don’t leave yours but you hear the clanking of his belt as he unbuckles it and pushes down his pants. Leaving tender little kisses on his skin along your path down to your knees, your husband exhales heavily when your fingers wrap around him and your tongue licks the little droplets of precum that lingered on the tip. 
“Shit, sweetheart. I’ve missed your mouth.”
Pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail, you feel his eyes on you as he mewls and watches you take him all the way to the back of your throat. You bob your head up and down, relishing the sounds of him falling apart as he gradually thrusts his hips against your movements. 
Your eyes lock as you glance up, knowing what you’re about to do will drive him crazy. Clinging to his thighs, you descend lower onto his cock, and freeze allowing your throat to constrict around him as you slightly gag. 
“FUCK, baby! That’s…That’s it.” When you pull back, you stroke your spit with your hand along his shaft before doing it again and feeling giddy when you see his eyes squeeze shut. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Come…come here, pretty girl.”
Pulling you up by your bicep, you still continue to stroke him while he licks two of his fingers and reaches down to rub your clit as his forehead falls on yours. 
“Jesus, you’re so fucking wet. Listen to how—mmph—how fucking wet she is.”, he whispers as he guides two of his fingers into your entrance. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this, Y/N. Your—fuck—your little pussy just tightened around my fingers. Do you like hearing me talk to you while my fingers are inside you?”
“Y-Yes. Fuck, yes Eddie. I missed it so much.”
Pressing his body against yours, his arm locked at the elbow as his rhythm hastened. 
“Cum for me, princess. I want you to drench my hand so I can smell you. I love the way you smell, taste, and feel. I—oh my God—I love that you’re mine.”
Your arms circle around his shoulders as you cling to him tightly. 
“S-Say it again.”
His sexy chuckle has your eyes rolling as he tilts down to kiss the shell of your ear. 
“You’re mine, Y/N. You’ve always been mine. You’re my everything, sweetheart.”
Your body trembles as the coil snaps and you grind your hips against his digits to elongate your high. 
“More.”
Eddie didn’t waste a second as he lifted you into his arms and carried you to your bedroom causing you to giggle when he light-heartedly tossed you onto the bed. After pulling off your dress and removing the rest of his own attire, he kissed up your back as you laid on your tummy waiting for him. 
“I’m not too heavy right?”, he asks as he lays some of his weight against you. 
Pressing your back up against his chest, you twist your head to reach his lips. 
“No, baby. You feel good.” Smiling, he reaches between your bodies and guides his cock into your cunt. “F-Fuck, Eddie.”
“I know, sweetie, I know.”, he murmurs as his hand intertwines with yours by your head. “Still so fucking tight.”, he babbles as he does little thrusts to help you get reaccustomed to his size. 
You never needed much time; you loved the stretch and the slight delicious burn that followed before pleasure fully took over. 
“Please, baby. I need you.”
“You need me, Y/N?”
“Always.”
Trying to keep as much of his weight on his elbows, Eddie began pumping his hips and you both moaned at the feeling of each other again. Throughout the last few years of your marriage, there had been quickies with no real thought behind it, just the need for a release. The last year and a half you two hadn’t done anything at all and it killed you. 
Feeling him this close to you as he moaned and whispered in your ear was everything to you and more. 
“Hey. Hey, hey, hey.”, Eddie cooed as he brushed some of your hair away from your face. “What’s wrong, honey? Why are you crying?”
“I just…I missed you so much. I know…you’ve been here but…you haven’t really been…here.”
“I know, baby. I’m so sorry. That’s never going to happen again because you know how… I was always waiting for a girl like you…” Your husband grins widely at the sound of your laugh as he lightly continues to sing. “…to come into my life. I love you, Y/N.”
After kissing the back of his hand, Eddie starts thrusting into you again, leaving little pecks below your ear as you moan his name encouragingly. Laying his full weight against your back, he rolls his hips pushing his length so deep inside you, your eyes practically roll out of your skull. 
“Fuck, Ed-Eddie. Just like that. So—so deep.”
Tattooed arms wrap around you and your husband brings you with him as he falls onto his side, his palm digging into your thigh as he lifts your leg in the air. 
“Cum for me, pretty girl. Cum on my dick.” Licking your fingers, you bring them down to rub your clit in fast circles, matching his pace as he pounds into you. “Atta girl. You got it, sweetheart.”
When he felt your body begin to shake, he dropped your leg, hugging you flat against his chest and stomach as he slammed his cock roughly into that sensitive spot inside till you both felt the coil snap once more.
“Ah my God. Good girl. Good girl, baby. I’m gonna cum to.”
“Mmph—please, baby. Cum inside me. Please, Eddie.”
A strangled string of grunts left his lips as he rutted against you till his limbs squeezed you tightly and you felt him warm your insides. 
###################
1984
“Oof, Jesus fucking shit!”, Eddie shouted as something hard bumped into his back. 
“Edward Munson!”, the librarian whisper screeched his way as he held up his palm to silently apologize. 
When he turned around to see what asshole hit him, his intense eyes landed on your worried ones. 
“I am so sorry. I was trying to get that book up there but I tripped. I’m so sorry.”
Time seemed to freeze as the metalhead visually took you in. He had seen you around before talking with other members of the student body. You were in a school ran club like Student Council so you seemed to easily flow through each clique even going to the ones your ‘friends’ never seemed to want to talk to. 
He remembered Gareth talking about you in passing saying that you were incredibly sweet for a ‘preppy, rich girl’. Looking at you now, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to you than what was on the surface. 
“Um, again. I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”
“Huh? Oh, no, excuse me. I’m being an asshole. I’m fine. No, physical damage.”
“But there’s emotional damage?”, you tease eliciting a soft smile from him. 
“Of course. It’s not every day a beautiful girl pushes me. I’m going to be expecting that all the time and my hearts going to get broken when it doesn’t.”
“Hm, well, there are plenty of beautiful girls at this school so I promise it will happen again.”
“None of them are as beautiful as you.”
You blinked, taken aback by his confidence as you blushed and smirked his way. Eddie would later tell you he had no idea where that confidence came from but it was always the truth. 
The older boy smiled as he reached above you effortlessly to grab the book you had been trying to get before holding it out for you to take. 
“I’m Eddie. Eddie Munson.”
After taking the book, you reach into your bag and grab a pen before taking a hold of his arm. When your fingers touched his skin, an electricity ignited through him that he had never felt before and he had to control the urge to hug you to his chest.
“That’s my phone number, Eddie Munson. You should call me some time. I’ll be home after school today… around 4.”
“O-Okay. I’ll, um, I mean I should be free around that time.”
Eddie flushed with embarrassment as he tried to come off as nonchalant as you giggle lightheartedly at him stuttering over his words. He learned in that moment he adored the sound of your laugh. 
“I can’t wait. I’m Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”
***
You stirred at the sound of your phone ringing, reaching over to grab the cordless from the receiver. 
“Hello?”
“Shit. Hey, mom. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“No, baby. It’s alright. Is everything ok?”
“Yeah, I just wanted to check in since I know last night was grandma and grandpa’s charity thing. Everything go alright or were they rude as usual?”
“Rude as usual.”, you sigh as you roll onto your back and grin at Eddie’s completely knocked out frame. “Your father punched somebody.”
“Oh, go dad.”, he laughed. “I’m sure that person deserved it knowing him. I’m really sorry. Grandma and Grandpa are old fashioned, you know? Maybe one day they’ll catch up with the times.”
“Yeah but if not that’s ok. I have you both.”
“Yeah…I love you, mom. I loved my childhood and I’m proud to be your son; you and dad. Fuck, Hawkins.”
“Caleb…you’re going to make me cry.”, you start to hiccup before he giggles again. “Did you want to talk to Eddie?”
“Naw, let him sleep and I’ll talk to him later. I’d text him but he hasn’t quite figured that part of technology out yet.”
“Oh yeah no. When it comes to technology, he turns into Wayne. ‘Why are the buttons so small? Why do I have to push it four times to get to one letter!’”, you mimic as you and your son laugh. 
“You two are rude.”, Eddie responds groggily as he rubs his eyes with his hands. 
“Uh oh, Caleb. We got caught.”, you tease. “Alright, baby. Have fun and we’ll talk to you later. I love you.”
“Love ya, kid.”, your husband mumbles as you try to tilt the phone closer to him. 
“Love you guys to.”
After hanging up the phone, you roll onto your side and curl up into his chest as his fingers start to play with your hair. 
“What did the butthead want?”
“He was calling to check in about the charity thing last night. I told him you fought for my honor.”
“Hm, yeah I did.”, he smiles. “And so did you. ‘It’s Y/N Munson.’”, Eddie mimes in a high-pitched voice with his grin growing as you laugh. 
As he settles, your eyes trace over his tattoos on his chest and the man softly sighs when your fingers trace over yours and your son’s name.
“I love you, Edward Munson. I know we’ve had our bumps but I don’t resent my life with you. Every day with you and Caleb has been an adventure. I’m excited to see where we go from here.”
His eyes that had previously been closed fluttered open when you finished speaking and he carefully rolled onto his side to face you. 
“I love you to, Y/N Y/L/N. I meant what I said last night. I promise to be more open with my feelings and talk to you. I don’t want us to go back to how things have been. We have the rest of our lives to be together and we’re going to make the most of it.”
You smile as you press your body to his chest and nuzzle your nose into his neck. 
“From the moment I wake up 'til deep in the night. There's nowhere on earth that I'd rather be than holding you tenderly.”
Eddie chuckles in his throat as you sing, tilting your head back so he can kiss your lips again before whispering, “I've been waiting for a girl like you to come into my life. I've been waiting for a girl like you, you're a love that will survive.”
####################
@myherometalhead @dashingdeb16 @micheledawn1975 @hardladyheart
598 notes · View notes
annwrites · 4 months ago
Text
⸻ billy hargrove being in love with you would include:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
at first, he'd be unbelievably irritated over it.
and he most certainly would not initially admit that what he feels is love.
no, it's just a stupid fucking crush.
you just happen to get his dick hard—that's it.
but why, then, can't he get you out of his fucking head—off his mind?
like, why does he want to hold your hand, & cuddle you, & say sweet shit to you?
admitting it is not something he would ever do up-front.
instead, he'd, quite honestly, prob be a bit mean to you over it. somehow feeling like it's your damn fault.
but, when he sees how his words hurt you, he fills with guilt & does what he can do undo it/dial it back.
so, he offers to start giving you rides to & from school.
maybe even makes invitations to hang out—just not at his house. he doesn't want his dad ruining whatever the fuck he has, or, at the very least, wants to have with you.
so, you guys go to the starcourt mall, or the movies, or hawkins video to rent something to take back to your place to watch, or to the hawkins arcade, etc.
he just needs an excuse to spend extra time with you that isn't strictly in a classroom.
and he buys you things: pays for your movie ticket & snacks, pays for the movie you rent for the night, buys you gifts from the mall, etc.
and by insisting it's not a big deal—kind of like a self-fulfilling prophecy—he makes it one by stressing how much it really doesn't matter. it's just a few bucks.
in time, he offers to teach you how to drive his car.
just likes that he'll get credit for being the one to teach you how to drive in-general.
the more time you spend together, the more intimate he gets.
he's been flirtatious & handsy the whole time, but being 'sweet on you' is different.
it includes soft, nervous touches on his part with shaking, uncertain hands, waiting for you to mock him for it.
when you don't, he starts paying you nice compliments, like how he likes what you're wearing, or that your hair is really cute today.
starts holding your hand in public & around school, too.
speaking of intimate, he's usually rough when it comes to sex, to keep up that masculine façade, until he shyly asks you if you want to try ❝y'know, makin' love, or whatever the fuck❞.
and everything is slow and sweet and gentle & he lies in your arms afterward with his head resting between your breasts and he just feels so safe & loved & wanted & cared for.
is 100% the jealous type, so don't even think about hanging out with other guys. he needs that security in knowing you won't abandon him, too.
he, in time, tells you—begrudgingly—about his childhood & his mom. he tries to brush it off, but really wants you to give a shit. and when you do—hold him & tell him how sorry you are—he knows that he's fallen entirely.
it scares the shit out of him, though. because he's not like other guys: hearts & chocolates (he's capable of being a sweetheart, but because he hates himself so much, he can't see it). he's terrified of becoming his dad. what if he's not the best thing for you? what if he hurts you? the list is endless.
but when he thinks of being alone again? of losing you? he can't let that happen.
so, he says it. those three words. and he feels like he might vomit when he does.
and then you say it back and he cries.
once the two of you graduate, he works his ass off to get you a nice home or apartment.
he wants to leave hawkins as whole & take the two of you out west.
and you get there.
and he returns to surfing & teaches you as well.
he loves sharing it with you.
and once the two of you are comfortable & settled, he pops the question.
he's a trembling, breathless mess while doing it, but he gets through it.
and once you've had some time to enjoy married life, it inevitably happens (he gets you knocked up)!
he promptly freaks out.
then spends all his free time working on a nursery.
snaps at you when you try and help put anything together.
❝you need to be in bed with your feet up, or something. just let me take care of it, alright?❞
he just wants you to be pampered, in truth.
but once your little one has entered the world?
dad mode all the way.
he's always holding it, helping change diapers (even if he bitches about them sometimes), changing its clothes, playing with it (loves this part—always a huge smile on his face, especially when the baby is smiling, too).
he becomes everything his dad never was: a good man. and he has the love of a good woman that he knows is his forever.
until death do you part.
870 notes · View notes
itsmemuffy · 24 days ago
Text
I can make you feel better...
If you let me (chapter one)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Contents: Original Trilogy! Logan x fem reader, naive reader, obsessive and touch starved Logan, friends to lovers, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, non-sexual physical intimacy, sexual fantasies (real smut in pt. 2), mentions of Charles, Ororo, Jean, Scott and Rogue
Summary: You keep everything running as smooth as possible in the background while Professor Xavier keeps a very full plate of locating mutants, running the school, and leading the X-Men. A steady stream of mutants come and go through the mansion, but a certain one in particular makes it his mission to nestle his way into your life.
The past few days had been a whirlwind for Logan. He's the type of man that goes where he wants to go- and waking up in an infirmary on a small hospital cot after being round up like some sort of animal was not on his list of things to do that week, to say the least.
For all intents and purposes, his next plan of action was to get away from here as soon as he possibly could and get back to the life he lived on his own terms. His only home and form of transportation was totalled somewhere in the Alberta wilderness, sure, but he already had experience starting over from nothing.
Oh, but was one man ever persuasive: Charles Xavier. Not many people had an edge over Logan like he did. If his ego permitted, he would be thankful that the man that held upper hand had noble intentions.
When he first met you, a cute little thing diligently running errands to what was perhaps the one man who could have his answers, you immediately piqued Logan's interest. So sweet and so kind, and Charles put his trust in you?
He had barged in like he owned the place on you and the professor scheduling out the upcoming semester in his office. Charles appeared to have already gotten used to this type behavior from him. "This, my dear, is Logan. He will hopefully be joining us now."
Oh... so is he planning to stick around? You ponder as you bite the inside of your cheek, leaning onto Charles' desk with your hip. Logan immediately came off as brooding and dismissive, and he didn't seem like the type to settle into a place beaming with so much activity. Regardless, you extended your hand out to him as you told him your name.
It took him a second to register the gesture. He only now noticed how lost in thought he was, eyes caught below your neckline. With a clearing of his throat, Logan reached a hand back to you to shake it. The most formal of ways to greet someone, yet the feeling of your delicate fingers grasping his rough palm caused his mind to wander again. He forced himself back to reality.
"I guess I'll be seeing you around," Logan remained aloof in speech, hoping you didn't notice the way he devoured you with his gaze. He decided to promptly remove himself from the room, searching for the privacy to be alone with his thoughts.
Tumblr media
A few interactions after your initial introduction, Logan started to feel something beyond sexual curiosity. You made his heart race, you made him nervous.
Not a single detail went unnoticed by Logan. The way your hips would sway, how you parted your hair, the shade of lipstick you wore, the softness in your voice whenever you greeted him, your scent.
Life kept throwing change in Logan's way, morphing his way of living into something unrecognizable to him. For the last however many years (boy, is he ever bad at keeping track of time) he had filled them with isolation and taking whatever cheap pleasures he could find. Now he finds himself surrendering the space in his mind to a woman he barely knew. You brought warmth and light into a cold, dark place.
No, this won't fly, he thought to himself. The fact that he was losing control over the dynamic between you made him very uncomfortable. Logan made it his mission to learn more about you. If he could just figure you out, he could take the reins over again.
The two of you would always acknowledge eachother in a group setting. The tiny smile Logan would throw your way whenever you caught eyes made you weak. You couldn't help but to want to know more about him, too. A rugged man who was a stranger not too long ago was showing you consideration? A man who nobody knows where he's been, what he's done, how old he is? It kind of racked your brain, but you tried not to let it trip you up.
Oh, but he would catch you trip up. It wasn't lost on Logan the times you entered a space with him in it, seemingly to forget what you came in there for. Maybe you were a little ditzy- your mind often racing too fast that you couldn't catch up with yourself, but it had happened too many times for it to be a coincidence. At least, that's what he told himself.
He replicated your behavior, scouting you out amongst the mansion. It wasn't hard for him to find you. Your trail had become so much bolder to his senses, overshadowing anybody else that could be in vicinity.
Logan always found what he was looking for. Excuse after excuse slipped easily from his lips. Obvious to everyone else what he was doing, you earnestly took the bait every time without fail. He marked the first time he had a conversation with you alone as a significant victory.
"Hey, didn't see you there. Have you seen Charles around? I need to talk to him." He had cornered you in the library, watching you read for a minute or two before making his presence known.
You flinched up in your chair, "Jesus Logan, don't sneak up on me like that!" The yelp that initially left your lips was definitely a sound he would remember next time he's alone.
"Sorry, doll. Didn't mean to scare ya," he chuckled.
The upset you felt towards him for breaking your flow state lasted but half a second. You couldn't be mad. After all, whatever he needed Charles for must of been important.
"No, Jean and him are off chaperoning a field trip in the city. He should be back sometime this evening."
Logan let out a little "hmph", trying his best sound to sound disappointed. Inside he was estatic he finally caught up to you again. Now with no one else around, his mind flooded with possibilities on how this could go. The odds of you immediately throwing yourself at him weren't zero, were they? If he were to take you and bend you over the table right this very second, there was a possiblility you'd let him... right? God, am I really this desperate? he thought.
After letting a moment hang in the air, he sat down next to you in the ajacet seat. "So, what are you doing here all by yourself? Got nothing better to do on a Saturday afternoon, huh?" Good idea, Logan, change the subject.
"You're one to talk," your focus was now one hundred percent on him. Thighs spread as he lazily leaned back in the chair, rolling his head to the side. To say he wasn't beautiful like this would be a lie. You've rarely seen him this relaxed. "Aren't you here too?"
"Huh." Logan did not anticipate you to call him out like that, "I guess you've got a point, there."
An awkward silence sat between the two of you. You pretended to divert your attention back to your book, not letting him escape the corner of your eye. Logan lit up a cigar he fished from his pocket. He desperately needed something to do with his hands.
"This is a library, you know that right?" You chide him after an annoyed sigh.
"Oh, is it now? I thought all these books were just for decoration." His lips sucked in another drag.
"Very expensive books, Logan. There's plenty of perfecly fine places to smoke around here if you just look."
He got up from his seat, "Then why don't you show me around, darlin'? Open my eyes a little." You couldn't quite tell if the pet name was to belittle you or to be affectionate. A hand reached out to bring you to stand. "I'll let you lead the way."
You lead him outside to the back of the mansion, a secluded area with an old stone bench shaded by the surrounding trees. It was your favorite place on the property, and it soon became his as well.
After that day, it wasn't an uncommon occurrence for the two of you to catch eachother in that very spot on a warm day. You would watch the kids play in the field, discussing all the antics the students got into that week. Bright afternoon sun would peak through the trees as cigar smoke wafted in the air- everything felt so perfect when you were with him.
Tumblr media
Logan often found himself falling asleep thinking of you. He would linger on any time you spent together in the previous hours of the day, overanalyzing the interaction. Any amount he got of you was never enough. He always needed more. More time with you, more closeness, more, more, more.
If he was lucky, you would visit him in his dreams. It was rare but whenever it happened, it was a blessing. You would appear to him as vivid and real as if he was awake. There, he was finally able to close the gap between you two. His hands would finally meet every inch of your plush skin.
However, Logan's mind loved to torture him. As much as your companionship has brought him peace, no amount of feelings for you could change the fact that he was a broken man. Most nights consisted of horrific images; an incomprehensible collage of blood and bodies that he desperately tried to make sense of. All he knew is that it was all real. It happened. The pain was too prevalent to be fantasy.
Tonight he had awoke in terror yet again. A cold, uncomfortable sweat coated his body, chest heaving up and down like a piston. Logan's eyes were blown wide, staring at the ceiling in an attempt to convince himself he was safe in his room. When did four walls around you ever mean you were safe? His intrusive thoughts were keen on keeping him in a state of anxiety. When did four walls ever make someone safe from you?
That was enough. Logan knew all too well how his mind could go on and on like this if he let it. He needed to get some air. The bed creaked under his shifting weight as he sat up. His entire body felt sore. It was if he fought off an entire army in the hours he was asleep.
After finally getting up, he made his way past his bedroom door and down the hall towards the nearest exit. The kitchen was along that route. He figured he might as well grab something to drink. Anything, as long as it was cold.
As he turned the corner, the narrow hallway met the open space of the kitchen. Logan was surprised to find the room already illuminated with light. His eyes lit up when he saw who was sitting at the counter.
Logan stumbled before you a dishelveled mess. His hair was matted, sticking up every which way. The white tank he wore was half tucked into sweatpants he haphazardly put on before leaving his bedroom, drawstrings not even tied as they sat low on his hips. His demeanor was one of a wild animal, cautious and running on instinct.
A wave of awareness washed over Logan. He combed his fingers through his dark locks and straightened his back as he approached you further. Once he got himself to think in actual words again, he greeted you.
"Couldn't sleep either, huh?" His voice was hoarse and deep. Logan just now realized how sore his throat was. He hoped to god that he wasn't screaming in his slumber- at least not loud enough for anybody to hear.
"I just woke up not too long ago. Was hoping a snack would help me get back to sleep." You sat before a plate filled with a random assortment of food you scavenged from the cupboards, "Want some?"
"No thanks, sweetheart," the way he spoke sweetly to you through his gravelly tone made your heart skip a beat. He didn't need to ask to know that you had a rough night as well. It was written all over your face. A gentleness Logan typically pushed down and tried to ignore was bubbling to the surface. Something in him was relieved he was no longer alone with himself tonight.
You watch him make the journey past you to the fridge, scanning the contents of the shelves like it was the hardest decision he had to make in a long time. Rootbeer or ginger ale... Ginger ale or rootbeer...
"You didn't hear it from me, but Scott keeps a few beers in the vegetable drawer underneath the celery."
"That sneaky little bastard," he smirks. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." Logan was delighted. Not only by the sudden promise of alcohol, but by the thought that you might share other secrets with him, too. He had a boyish urge to stay up the entire night with you and see if he could get you to spill all the other secrets you must have.
Two beers clanked together as Logan grasped them with a single hand. He took a seat across from you and slid a bottle over to your side of the countertop. Your eyes locked and held on to that contact for probably way too long. Time felt like it has stopped. The moment he walked into the kitchen and saw you, the clock might as well never ticked a single second past 1:37 AM.
"I don't know... Scott will probably notice if we take more than one," you say as you bite your lip.
"I'll run to the store in the morning, he won't even know they were gone," he was all too ready to combat your excuse. Logan wanted to see you come undone. You worked so hard, did everything you're told and were so diligent. Such a good girl. A beer in your hand looked terribly out of place and that made his heart swell.
"Guess it can't hurt, can it?" You opened the bottle and sipped as the frosty glass numbed the tips of your fingers.
He drank much slower than his usual pace, taking the tiniest of mouthfuls like the time with you would run out with the beer. Silence draped over the two of you like a warm blanket, both too exhausted to put on any sort of show to entertain the other. The satisfaction of just being in eachother's company was enough. It came all too easy when you were together. After witnessing all those horrors earlier in the night, Logan finally felt content.
You notice he rubs his neck, a strained noise rumbled in his chest. The stool you sat in screeches against the tile floor as you get up and make your way over to him on the other side of the island. Logan's eyes followed you with every step you took
"May I?" you ask as you now stand behind him, hands hovering over his shoulders, waiting for permission. It wasn't a big deal. You always help out Ororo and Jean when they have stiffness or a knot. That's what friends do for eachother, right?
Logan did his best to hide his signs of exitement. He couldn't let you know how often he thinks of your touch. If he had only one ounce less of pride, he would be begging you for the simplest of contact all hours of the day. "That's real sweet of you, but you really don't have to," he said with the slightest quiver in is voice.
"But I want to." That's it. Those four words just shattered him into a million pieces. If you only knew what you were doing to him.
Your digits grip the dip in his shoulder as your thumbs dig between his shoulder blades. You tried not to gasp when you felt the all knots going up his back. It has just occurred to you how little mind he must pay to taking care of himself for it to get this bad. Pain was a staple of his everyday life, why waste time to try and remedy it? Despite the ability to heal, the constant state of tension still took an immense toll on his body.
Logan leaned into your touch and practically melted under your fingers as he tentatively sipped his beer. If he were to turn around and look at your face, he'd see your complexion flushed bright red. Maybe you were enjoying this a little too much, and you chastised yourself for thinking that way. Little did you know all the scandalous thoughts Logan let his mind run away with on a daily basis when he was around you.
Your hands quickly grew weary working into the solid muscle, but you pushed through it for him. You know he needed this by the way his eyes were now closed and soft hums that left his lips. After working across his shoulders, you finally made your way to his neck. Logan let his head fall forward completely as your knuckles broke up the bundled-up nerves beneath his skin. The tightness in him was able to come loose a bit for the first time in a long, long time.
"Whew," you withdrew your hands and shook them out, "hopefully it feels a bit better now."
"It does," a smile crept up on his face that he tried to supress with each word. "That really was somethin', thank you."
You sat back down across from him and remained mostly silent after that apart from the occasional yawn. A single beer not quite enough to offer a buzz, but enough to lull you out of your wired state.
"Think I'm going to call it a night. You should, too. Danger room is on the itinerary first thing in the morning."
"Yeah, well you can tell Charles where to stick his itinerary." Logan was determined to make you smile one last time before you parted ways- and he succeeded.
He walked behind you on your way back down the hall, wishing the journey was not as quick as it was. Your room came up a few doors before his. Logan almost followed you into your bedroom before he shook himself out of auto pilot. It was like a habit that hadn't been formed yet. He belonged next to you in that bed, he knew because he felt it in every fibre of his being.
"Goodnight, Logan. Sleep well."
"I definetly will now. Goodnight, sweetheart."
Sweetheart. There it was again. You convince yourself it couldn't of meant anything.
When you gently shut the door behind you, time had resumed yet again. That little bubble wherein only the two of you existed had been popped.
He lied about going back to sleep, holding on to the delusion that he didn't need it. Besides, he didn't want to say goodbye to your essence. You still filled his senses, if only just barely. A deep inhale could capture your scent, and your breathing could faintly be heard if he really listened. Logan stood outside your door until the sun started to rise before he snuck back into his room.
He never ended up replacing Scott's beers.
Tumblr media
As time went by, your encounters with eachother became more and more frequent. Excuses to talk were no longer required. You enjoyed Logan's company, as he did yours. There was no reason to pretend, you were just two friends growing closer by the day.
You gradually opened up to one another and Logan started to confide in you. Any insight on himself or his past was kept brief, giving carefully worded and vague details. You knew better than to push him for more than he was wiling to give and he liked that about you. Whenever the confusion, the regret, or the pain would get too much, he turned the conversation back to you. The more he learned about you as a person, the more his mind circled all his thoughts back to you.
Neither side knew, however, what things the other was keeping to themselves. You couldn't tell him how the casual touches felt different from him than how it felt with your other male friends. You couldn't tell him how hard it was to think when you would run into him all sweaty after an intense training session. You couldn't tell him that when you held onto your pillow at night, you wish it had his warmth.
And he couldn't tell you that you were the first thing he thought of in the morning. He couldn't tell you how he had a favorite pair of jeans that your ass looked best in. He couldn't tell you that he committed every detail about you to memory- from the curve of your lips to the way you say his name.
Anyone who saw the way Logan looked at you could deduce there was something more going on beneath the surface. Scott would tease him about it and he would swiftly shut it down. Jean and Ororo would pry you for details, only for you to tell them there was nothing going on between you and him. They didn't buy it. No one bought it.
All the words unsaid eventually built up so high it was suffocating. It was getting harder and harder to behave like normal around eachother, not knowing where the boundaries were and if it was okay to cross them. Something had to give.
It started out as a regular Friday evening with the team gathered together, watching movies and playing cards. Your initial plan was to work late into the night. Small, tedious tasks has accumulated as you had focused on more pressing matters throughout the week. Charles was having the X-Men find mutants at a pace more efficient than ever before which corresponded with an increased workload on your front.
You were leaving in the morning on a trip for the long weekend and you were determined to finish everything before you left. Ororo was always the one to break you out of your paperwork prison and get you to live a little. "Come on, everyone's waiting for you to come down before we put on the next movie."
"Storm, if I don't do this now, it will never get done."
"Oh, please. You worked so hard all week. Everything here can wait until you get back," your friend watches you as you roll your eyes and continue sorting files. Good thing she had a little trick up her sleeve, "...and Logan wants to see you before you leave."
"He said that...?" you inquire in an almost pathetic manner. She nodded but truthfully, he didn't have say it. She knew it was true all the same.
After dragging you downstairs you scanned the common room, everyone talking amongst themselves with a glass in hand. Everyone except Logan. Ororo had pulled a similar scheme to get him to come out of his self isolation, but when he saw you weren't there earlier, he decided to skip the socializing and retire to his room.
Jean, ever the fast thinker, was in on the plan, "Hey, we were thinking about ordering takeout. Can you do me a favor and see if Logan wants anything?" She hands you a menu knowing you wouldn't pass up a chance to be helpful to a friend.
Logan sat in darkness on the edge of his bed, rubbing his temples and groaning. He truly didn't mean to blow everybody else off. In actuality, he enjoyed shooting the shit with the mutants he was slowly starting to recognize as his family. Tonight was different, however.
Frustration was pushing him to his limit. He still wasn't any closer to finding the missing pieces to his puzzle. Charles told him these kind of things take time. He was sick of hearing that, he needed answers now. His sanity depended on it.
Only one thing was certain- another person had done this to him. There was no doubt the wiping of his memories was a deliberate effort on somebody's part. That wasn't the only thing. The recurring visions of being horrified at his own self, the sickening realization he was changed into something he hadn't been before haunted him on the daily. Is my body really my own?
All of this made worse by the multiple birthdays of a couple of students this past month. Simple things everyone knew about themselves- when and where they were born- was a luxury he was not afforded. Logan felt himself slipping, the feelings that were out of his control eating away at him.
A knock at the door stopped his thoughts in its tracks. "Logan? You there?" Only but a half hour earlier, you were the only person he wanted to see. But now that he has succumbed further down his spiral of self pity in that short amount of time, he didn't want you to see him like this.
"What do you want?" His uncharacteristically cold tone made you wince behind the door. As much as he needed you to pull him out of the hole he dug for himself, the dark recesses of his mind were commanding him to push you away.
"We're ordering takeout. Jean needs to know if you want anything."
"I'm not hungry." He was silently begging for you to walk away before he said something he would regret.
"Can I please come in?" You pleaded, hoping he'd recognize the worry in your voice. This wasn't like him.
"Fine," he grumbled. At the end of the day, Logan could never say no to you.
The door squeaked as you inched it open. You could barely makeout his silhouette in the dark. With a flick of a switch, the space was illuminated. "Is everything alright, Lo? You're scaring me."
Careful footsteps slowly brought you to stand before him. The air in the room was undoubtedly charged. Every action you now took was deliberate, as if trying not to startle a feral animal.
"You wouldn't be the first person that's ever been scared of me," he spat out his words like daggers.
As serious as the conversation felt, you couldn't help a scoff from escaping you. You sat down next to him on the bed mere inches apart, "that's not what I mean and you know it. Stop being so obtuse and tell me what's going on."
"Nothing is going on, believe me," Logan sighed. His demeanor immediately softened just from having you close. He buried his face in his palm- an insecure gesture you've rarely seem him perform. But when he did, you knew exactly what it meant.
"Bullshit. I know you better than this, Logan." Maybe you were getting through to him.
Something about what you said must have struck him the wrong way as he tensed back up again. "You don't know me at all, actually."
"How can you say that? We see eachother almost every single day! Come on, now... You can't be serious," you playfully nudge his knee against your own, trying to lighten the mood.
"No, I am serious. How can you know me when I don't even know myself? You don't know what I've done and how many people I've had to do it to. I don't even know any of the fucking details but I know it ain't anything good, sweetheart." He watched outside himself as he was taking his inner frustration out on you.
Logan knew it wasn't right to speak to you this way when you were just trying to be there for him. As much as it stung in the moment, you tried not to take it personally. He was hurt and he needed you, that much was clear.
"Listen to me for just one second," you braced yourself, unsure how he would take what you were about to say. "I know what kind of man you are. And I don't need to know your entire damn history to be certain of that."
All he could do was stare blankly at your face as he processed your words. Without waiting for a response you continued, "How can I be so sure? Because I see it in everything you do, Logan. It's in the way you treat Rogue and the other kids, treat your teammates, treat me. I can't tell you that you've never had to hurt anyone, but you know what? I have faith in you. Faith that whatever may have happened in your past, you've learned from and are a better man for it."
A long period of silence sat between you. It wasn't exactly a comfortable silence, but the charge in the air had definetly diffused. You held his stare, now was not the time to back down. There was a chance you were finally getting through to him and you needed to make it clear you meant every word that you just said.
After a prolonged moment to properly think about what you were saying to him, the look on his face transformed into something you couldn't quite put your finger on. A look that was warm, and you could go as far to say it was a look that was loving.
Logan did indeed love you. He loved the way you didn't try to tame him, how you not only didn't shy away from the less savory aspects of his life- you met them head on with tenderness and understanding.
With this love came great guilt. You had a way of making Logan feel like the world had more to offer than just loss and suffering, for this he was grateful. Still, the feeling he deserved to suffer alone gnawed at him until his gut felt raw. If he were to send for you everytime he needed you, you would be a way busier woman than you already were. The fact that you always made time for him without the semblance of hesitation wasn't lost on him, either.
"How are you so sweet?" he croons as he caressed your cheek with the back of his hand. Logan was always gentle with his touch when it came to you, but the softness of his actions in this moment shocked even yourself. "You're too sweet for me, darlin'. Wouldn't want anything to change that."
It almost made you sick to your stomach how just barely your bodies were connected in this moment. He kept his touch as light as a feather as he trailed his hand down your neck before it made it's temporary home on your shoulder. "Say something, sweetheart," he pleaded as a firm squeeze brought you back to reality. Logan needed more of your words to keep him grounded. "Please."
"Logan, I..." your brain scrambled as you tried to gather your thoughts. The way you felt for him was so foreign to you. You couldn't put it into words right now no matter how badly you wanted to. This feeling could only properly be put into actions- an action older than language itself.
Without thinking, you close the gap and press your lips to his- Logan's bottom lip captured between your own. In his wildest dreams, he never thought you would be the one to make the first move and initiate a kiss. The hand that wasn't on your shoulder now cupped your face. He held you there, afraid you'd slip away from him.
"I'm sorry... I know it probably isn't the right time for this," you whispered against his lips.
"Mmm," Logan emitted a small chuckle into your mouth as he went in for a deeper kiss this time. More intense, hungry. His beard burned deliciously when it scuffed your skin. "Never a wrong time to kiss ya, sweet girl."
Now that he has felt your velvety soft lips, he knew he would never be able to get enough. His desire for you overrided his shame. Logan got a taste of what it would be like if you were his. From this point on, he wouldn't be able to hold back anymore. The floodgates were now open and he couldn't wait to pour himself all over you.
He pulled his face away from yours, still holding your body close, "all this just for you to leave in the morning, huh?" Logan looked down at you through half-lidded eyes. His mind was in a daze, in such bliss now that the invisible barriers between you were finally being torn down.
"Oh please, I'll only be gone for a few days." Even though the trip you were about to go on was a long time coming, you wouldn't mind throwing all your plans away just to be in Logan's arms all weekend. "Why, you gonna miss me that bad?"
"I always miss my girl when she's gone," he couldn't help all the syrupy words from flowing from his mouth. Inhibitions were nonexistent to Logan in this moment and he couldn't say anything but exactly what was on his mind.
He was right. You were his girl. In every sense of the word. His girl whose face would light up everytime he walked into a room. His girl who would save him a plate whenever he was late to dinner. His girl who would always make sure he was comfortable and had everything he needed. His girl who would do absolutely anything for him- all he had to do was ask. Logan had owned your heart for a while now.
You fiddle with the seams at the bottom of his tank, fingers brushing his abdomen underneath. It was enough to make you both shiver. "Just do me a favor while I'm away, Lo."
Jesus, how his pulse quickened everytime you called that little nickname. I'm so fucked, he thought. What a fool he was to think he was ever in control. Since the moment the two of you met, his heart belonged to you as well. "And what is that you need me to do?"
"Try not to be so hard on yourself," you punctuate your request with a chaste kiss to the apple of his cheek. You felt his face lift as a smile reached his eyes. "Shit... I haven't even finished packing," it has just now dawned on you.
The realization he couldn't keep you next to him in bed forever hit him like a brick- another bubble popped. It's a shame, but he told himself there will be plently of opportunities to conjure up the little worlds you built together. He had no other option but to placate his burning desire for the time being.
"Well, don't let me keep you any longer," Logan hesitatantly let go of his grip on you. He got up to escort you the few steps from the bed to the door. Excessive, yes. But so necessary all the same.
Just as your hand was reaching to turn the handle, turned your back to the door to embrace him. It took your entire wingspan to wrap your arms around his broad form. Logan's warmth was absolutely addictive. He held on to the back of your head with his face buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.
"Just in case I don't catch you first thing in the morning..." you whispered as you caress up and down his back, "goodbye, Lo."
"Goodbye, sweetheart," he withdraws from his burrow within your hair to slip his lips between yours again. "Think of me while you're gone, will ya?"
"Always do."
And with that, you were apart again. As you were folding clothes to go into your suitcase, you couldn't help but think about how well the two of you clicked into place. He already had you longing to feel his body up against your own again. You fell asleep imagining all the places you'd let his hands explore when you got back. Logan laid in his bed doing the same.
Fin.
266 notes · View notes
yuwuta · 1 year ago
Text
mine. — inumaki toge
Tumblr media
❝i just wanna say you’re mine, you’re mine; fuck what you heard, you’re mine, you’re mine.
000. inumaki toge + reader
001. fluff, non-curse/college au, slightly suggestive but barely, inumaki uses sign language and speaks like two actual verbal words
002. baby sized drabble, barely even 1k words
Tumblr media
Toge would consider himself patient. He doesn’t mind waiting in long lines for the release of a new game, has no problem when the trains are delayed because it means he can sit and relax in the station a little longer, can sit for hours on end doing nothing and not be bored—but his tolerance for watching other people mess with his girlfriend is extremely low.
He reasons that you continue the conversation because you think it’s merely friend and polite to do so, and you’ve always been such a pleasantly happy drunk. But Toge knows this conversation isn’t friendly on the other end—and it’s not some protective boyfriend instinct, either, he has solid evidence of this idiot talking about you to his other idiot friend in front of Toge during lecture, with no knowledge that he was behind them, or that you are very not single.
(“She’s gorgeous, bro, look,” the kid muses, showing his friend your Instagram profile, “She’s in my bioethics class, and she’s easily the hottest girl. Smart, too. Little bit of a teacher’s pet, but I don’t care, she’s beautiful. A solid eight, for sure.”)
Toge knows that if this guy ever got his head out of his ass and ever bucked up the balls to actually ask you out instead of using roundabout flirting tactics and hopelessly pining over you during lectures, that you’d turn him down. He isn’t worried about losing you, and he doesn’t doubt your love for him. It does, however, concern him that there are people who believe they have a shot with you in the first place. He can’t possibly let that carry on. 
(Also, an eight? How could this guy call you beautiful, but say you’re an eight? It doesn’t equate—Toge doesn’t believe in rating women, but you’re not an eight. You’re a fifteen on a scale of one to ten; a shining star amongst a sea of planets; the love of his life). 
His fuse is about to blow when the guy touches you, reaches for your hair and carefully twirls a bit between his fingers. He knows that move; he knows the excuse was probably that there was something stuck to your hair, but Toge didn’t see shit. He’s had enough, and promptly bulldozes through Maki’s small apartment to reach you. He’s not sure if he’s making a ruckus, or if you can sense him coming, but you turn your head in his direction, a smile spreading on your face before cheering, “Hey, Toge! Do you—”
You’re cut off by a tug on your shirt, firm and impatient—but you’re not moving yet, not quick enough, so he does it again. Your eyes seem to light up with realization. You turn back to acknowledge the boy, and that’s really when Toge really loses it. All he hears is the stupid, desperate pitch of the kid’s voice sputtering out something about finding you later and grabbing drinks for you both, even as Toge’s dragging you through the crowd.
You let yourself be pulled by Toge’s greedy hand. It’s not all that far, just into a corner of the hallway, next to a closet where Maki keeps her cleaning and kickboxing supplies. He’s tempted to pull you into her bedroom, but he’s not up for being bruised for a week. 
“You okay?” you question, voice sweet and genuine—and it makes him grimace, because you really didn’t have a clue. Not one at all. 
Toge huffs, drops your hand to sign; using his left hand to circle around his face slowly, tapping at his chin. You understand, but only partially, given the slight tilt of your head and question that follows, “Beautiful? That’s why you’re upset?” 
He blinks slowly, shaking his head and flailing his arms in the direction of the living room. You follow his hands, down the hall then back to his face, but he can tell you still don’t get it. He tries again, pointing to you, then repeating his previous sign and adding another, and he can see the realization spread across your face, followed shortly by a bashful chuckle. 
“Too pretty? Me?” you ask to confirm. Toge nods his head, all serious and steely eyes, but you throw yours back with a hearty laugh this time. He crinkles his eyebrows, repeating his initial signs this time. Hdoesn’t know what’s so funny, if you’re laughing because you’re flattered or you find him ridiculous or something in between, but Toge means it either way; wants to ingrain it into you, just how beautiful you are.
So, he raises his hands again, when your eyes have met him again, and goes slower this time—pulls his mask down for good measure, so you can read his expression more clearly—to sign one simple word: “Mine.”
You tilt your head to the side again, and now Toge is the one laughing. He thinks you might be a little more drunk than you’ve let on, or maybe you just want him to indulge you. Either way, he has no problem repeating himself, doesn’t mind telling you again and again and again. 
He takes a step forward, leaving mere inches between you. You seem much smaller than him like this, still giggling, but he doesn’t mind. Toge reaches for your rest again, turning your palm upward and using a single finger to trace the letters of the word “mine,” onto your skin.
Your laughter comes to a halt when you verbalize his words, “Mine?” Toge nods, turning your wrist again to lace your hands together, pushes yours against the wall, uses his free one to cradle your cheek. He adores the way your pupils get bigger, the way your lips part slightly in anticipation. It’s his turn to smile, pulling you towards him for a kiss and ghosting his words over your lips, “You’re mine.”
3K notes · View notes
loveinhawkins · 2 years ago
Text
Robin’s always had a soft spot for Eddie Munson, but up until recently it had been in a distant kind of way; she appreciated his class clown act, the way it had a domino effect of keeping the heat off the band kids, how he hogged the spotlight for any passing douchebag’s attention.
But then they both literally dive into The Upside Down, and her appreciation reaches a whole new level.
They’re in the Wheeler’s garage, thanking their lucky stars that four bikes exist in 1983 (and yeah, Robin’s sure that if she thinks about the whole time thing for half a second more her brain will promptly melt, so she doesn’t).
Each of them are pushing their chosen bike down the driveway, in a dazed sort of silence—the high of the Lite-Brite worn off in the face of another grim journey through The Upside Down.
Steve is flagging, Robin can hear it: his breathing’s growing laboured as he walks, an occasional unsteadiness to him that’s setting her anxiety off all over again, because what if they were wrong, what if it’s really rabies, and it’s too late, it’s coursing through his veins, and he’s—they’re gonna lose him—
“Hey, Harrington,” Eddie says, swinging a leg over his saddle, “wanna race?”
“… Hmm? Sorry, what?” Steve says.
There’s not even that long of a delay in him speaking, but the pause still has Robin’s heart in her throat.
Eddie’s got one foot on a pedal now, ready to set off. He looks back at them with a shaky grin—like he’s terrified, but he’s still gonna have some fun anyway.
“I’m throwing down the gauntlet, King Steve. Bet I’ll be faster than you.”
Steve scoffs, stands up a little straighter before he mirrors Eddie, balancing on the bike with one foot on the pedal.
“How much are we betting?”
Eddie huffs. “Oh, no money involved,” he says nonchalantly. He raises an eyebrow in challenge. “This is just for the glory.”
And God, there’s that spark back in Steve’s eyes; it’s like Robin can physically see his competitive streak giving him strength.
Eddie Munson, you beautiful soul, she thinks, I could kiss you.
“Faster than me? Yeah, maybe in your dreams, Munson,” Steve says.
But Eddie’s already speeding off with a comical whoop; Steve curses as he hurriedly tries to catch up, yelling, “You dick, that’s cheating!”
“Not in my rulebook!” Eddie says with a cackle.
And for a little while, that’s enough to put Robin’s mind at ease: watching the pair of them taunt each other like kids—hearing Nancy laugh at the spectacle as she bikes alongside her.
But then she falls through the Gate, Eddie close behind her, and they freeze when Steve screams Nancy’s name with such fear.
Robin’s plunged back into a mind-numbing panic; she’s sure that her heart doesn’t even begin to slow until they’ve left the trailer park, until Steve’s control of the RV switches from ‘holy shit, we’re on the run, what have our lives become?’ to something more normal—the reliable, measured driving she’s familiar with, taking her to and from school or work.
Finally, she has time to, um… take stock. Of… things.
She wobbles her way over to Eddie, grabbing onto his elbow as Steve takes a turning.
Eddie instantly holds her up, a steadying hand around her waist. “Oh, hi. I’ve gotcha—” “Your music isn’t actually shit,” Robin says in one breath. “I know, um, on balance, it’s probably not the worst thing I could’ve said, but the delivery was—but, you know, considering I thought Nance was literally about to die, I’d say it was, like, kinda calm all things considered, but—”
Eddie’s chuckling. “Yeah, on balance,” he echoes teasingly, “you were pretty damn funny, actually. Uh, sorry for. Um. Screaming at you? Basically?”
“Basically,” Robin agrees. “Yeah, you were like impressively loud. Not quite eardrum-rupturing level, but y’know, I don’t actually know anyone who’s really had that happen to them; Amanda Wallis said she ruptured hers at the pep rally ‘cause she was standing too close to us—the band, I mean, but—”
Eddie rolls his eyes. “Oh, that’s bull, there’s no way that’d be loud enough to—”
“—I think she just had a grudge ‘cause David C on mellophone got literally the tiniest bit of spit on her, and he was only—”
“Yeah, well, everyone knows you sit in the splash zone at your own risk.”
“Exactly! She’s had plenty of time to learn marching band protocol.”
“Uh-huh, protocol,” Eddie echoes again, with a giggle.
He’s got a nice kind of laugh, Robin thinks: one where she’s never in doubt that he’s laughing with her rather than at her.
“That stuff you do’s pretty cool,” he says; with his free hand, he actually imitates her mime of playing a trumpet. “You must have good, uh…” She can see the exact moment that he’s having second thoughts about saying it, but he forges ahead anyway, with a hilariously uncertain, “Good… lungs?”
“Fascinating attempt at a compliment,” Robin says. “Luckily for you, I accept insults as, like, equal tokens of friendship.”
Eddie does a double take. He doesn’t go so far as letting out a questioning, “We’re friends?”, but he might as well have said it anyway: his eyes widen for a moment, like someone who’s just been unexpectedly asked out to prom.
Steve takes another turning; he does it smoothly enough, but even he can’t stop the RV from moving with it, and Robin stumbles again, very nearly ends up repeating how she toppled right onto Eddie in The Upside Down.
“Woah there, you’re good,” Eddie says, “just gotta find your, uh, what’s it called? Your equilibrium.”
“I don’t have any,” Robin says, all theatrical devastation, and Eddie snorts.
“Sure you do, Buckley. Look, just take my—yeah, that’s it, then just kinda straighten up… yeah, you’ve got it.”
And yes, after a minute or so, Robin’s footing does feel more certain, but she still keeps a stubborn grip on Eddie’s elbow, just in case.
“God, d’you know what I’m gonna do when all this is over?” Eddie says.
“Pray tell.”
“I’m gonna make a list. What was it you said, Madonna, Blondie…? Whatever, I’m getting all of them, m’never getting caught out like that again.”
“I’m hoping that needing music to evade the clutches of a serial killer from an alternate dimension is, um, strictly a one-time thing.”
“Don’t care,” Eddie says. “Still buying those tapes. Just in case.”
And yeah, it’s said partly in jest, but Robin can hear that he means it. Still, it’s the most optimistic that she’s heard him be so far: making plans for after, like he can really see a way through this. Like maybe he finally knows that they’ll help him get there.
“Need a list of tapes from you too, Buckley. You and Harrington.”
Robin smiles. Her first thought is of singing Total Eclipse of the Heart from the dirt-ridden floor of a mall bathroom, but then she thinks of every car ride with Steve, every time they’ve turned up the radio to belt along, and she knows that there are way too many songs to count.
“Forget a list,” Robin says, “I could fill a book. Same for big boy over there.”
Eddie blinks, like he’s suddenly taking stock, too. “Oh yeah,” he says, laughing lightly, “I did say that, huh?”
“Sure did. I was doubting my ears, too.”
Robin had been hoping they’d long since reached the point of being able to joke around with one another. But while Eddie does laugh again, he also starts biting at his thumbnail, glancing over at Steve in the driver’s seat.
“Um, hey.” Robin manages to keep her balance, briefly pressing her knee against his leg. “I didn’t mean anything by it, Eddie.”
“No, I know.” Eddie huffs self-effacingly. “I’ve kinda got permanent foot-in-mouth disease, my report cards would tell you that.”
Well, if he wants to pass it off as sometimes I just say the darnedest things, Robin would be a hypocrite to deny him.
It fascinates her in a sad sort of way though, how he veers between joking and nervousness—like he’s worried he’s intruding on their group, of overstepping somehow.
She wants to tell him: Look, we all got dragged into this, but we chose to stick around, and you’re no different.
But she no longer has the aftermath of Russian drugs to help bypass her own nerves, to kickstart her sincerity.
“Hey, you’re awfully quiet back there,” Steve calls, and Eddie startles.
Robin shakes her head. “Not us, that’s his—”
“Hello? Henderson, I’m talking to you.”
“We’re not even doing anything!” Dustin shouts back in exaggerated affront.
He’s sat on the backseat of the RV, peering out the window along with Lucas, Erica and Max. Robin stifles a chuckle at the sight; they look like they’re on a field trip—the cool kids at the back of the bus.
“Yeah, well, just checking,” Steve says, amused. “For all I know, you coulda been building a gigantic radio again on, like, the roof of this thing.”
“Cerebro,” Dustin says, just as Eddie lets out a baffled, “Uh, again?”
But then they’re pulling into The War Zone’s parking lot, and any chatter abruptly dies.
Afterwards, Steve gets off the road to park in a reassuringly deserted field. They don’t head outside right away (Robin’s not exactly looking forward to prepping Molotov cocktails), instead staying in the RV to eat junk food they’d grabbed beforehand.
Robin discovers that Dustin’s somehow bought five more cans of Pringles and snorts, declaring, “You’ve got a problem.”
At some point, Steve tries to sneak off to the bathroom so he can change his dressings—“And use actual proper bandages!” Robin calls to him; no offence to Nancy’s resourcefulness, but the torn shirt strips only do so much good.
It becomes a more comical than horrifying event, although she’s sure that’s down to Steve deliberately making it so, like a sleight of hand trick: playing it down as he keeps talking to the kids throughout, never wincing even once.
He ends up having to keep the bathroom door open to continue an argument with Erica over which Scoops Ahoy sundae was the best of all time—then figures that he might as well just step out into the open anyway.
At least the wounds have stopped bleeding—although the sight of Steve cleaning around them with bottled water is one that Robin could personally do without.
The kids are entirely unfazed. They flock to Steve, peering at the glimpses he lets them see like he’s just got a cool tattoo. Robin supposes that after El and whatever nightmare wormy thing was in her leg, they’ve seen everything.
Eddie, however, is another matter. He keeps quiet about it, not obvious at all, but Robin watches his face grow paler and paler before Steve wraps the new bandages around his stomach.
Dustin, bless his precocious little heart, must also notice, because he quickly starts up a seemingly impromptu game of charades, meaning that Eddie is soon distracted by his ridiculously over the top gestures.
“No, Steve, how are you not getting this?”
“I thought the whole appeal of this game was that you’re not meant to talk, Henderson. Dude, watch it, you nearly took Max’s eye out with… whatever the hell that was.”
“Oh my god, it’s Back to the Future, obviously! Ow, Max, I didn’t mean to—uh, yeah, the mime needs to be that big, how else am I gonna project what—”
“Dustin, I swear to god, I’m about to project you out the window,” Steve drawls.
Eddie laughs, hides it behind his hand.
But Steve must catch it, because he glances over at Eddie and winks before he’s dragged back into guessing another movie title.
And Robin’s obviously seen Steve wink before—he does it all the time, so much so that she’s become quite adept at reading when it’s a friendly one for her, or if he’s sharing some kind of in-joke with one of the kids.
She’s also seen his attempts at a ‘smooth’ wink towards some girls at work—and look, he’s Steve Harrington, it’s not like he’s going to be bad at it.
But if you ask Robin, it’s never looked quite right, like he’s always performing to an audience he’s unsure of.
But this wink doesn’t look like it belongs to either of those categories. Well, it’s got something in common with the first: that it looks entirely natural, as if he’s doing it almost without thinking. Like it just feels right.
They go through some more rounds of charades—Dustin’s gestures, if possible, getting even more dramatic—and Eddie gradually goes from contributing a few guesses to none at all, curling up on the backseat. He looks utterly wiped out.
Robin tries to catch Nancy’s eye, and after a few attempts, she gets the message, stands up with a nod.
“Okay, let’s take this outside, guys.”
“Spoken like a true camp counsellor,” Max says.
Nancy acts like she’s offended, but her lips keep twitching into a smile. “Max, never say that to me again.”
“There’s more space outside,” Erica says, “so we can duck out the way of Dustin’s windmilling arms.”
“Hey!”
“I’m bored of charades,” Lucas says. “We could do another competition? Like, I dunno, cartwheels or handstands or something?”
“Oh sure, so I can show you up?” Max returns, grinning.
Steve scoffs. “Uh, if you’re doing a cartwheel competition, I would win.”
“Since when?” Dustin says, an obvious taunt that Steve predictably rises to, flipping him off.
“Save your athletics for Vecna, please,” Nancy cuts in dryly.
“It wouldn’t be a fair fight.” Lucas gestures to Steve’s stomach, a little uncertainly. “You know, considering…”
Steve rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Under normal circumstances, I would kick all your asses.”
“Sure,” Robin says brightly, “but Steve, if you do literally anything more strenuous than sitting down right now, I’m gonna—”
“Uh, Steve would kick your asses, actually,” Eddie says slowly. His voice is muffled from the way his hand’s holding up his chin, partly covering his mouth. “He did gymnastics.”
Robin, surprised, looks to Steve; he’s doing that thing where he scratches at his cheek unconsciously, seems to be a mixture of embarrassed and pleased.
“How’d you know that?” he asks.
Eddie shrugs. “We didn’t have a cover for gym one time, remember? There was a whole group of us slacking off but you just kept doing, y’know,” he twirls his fingers, “tricks on that box thingy.”
“Vaulting box,” Steve corrects like he can’t stop himself. He’s sporting an almost abashed little smile that Robin’s never seen before.
Eddie shrugs again. “S’all Greek to me,” he says, interrupts himself halfway through with a deep yawn.
Steve’s eyes soften. And then he’s ushering the kids outside, “C’mon, you can do whatever competition you want for thirty minutes before we get to work.”
“Got it, coach.”
“Shut up, Mayfield.”
“I’ll be your stopwatch if you’re doing handstands,” Nancy chips in, bringing up the rear—she catches Robin’s eye again, subtly tilts her head in Eddie’s direction and mouths Stay?
Robin nods.
“Uh, that won’t be accurate at all,” comes Dustin’s rebuttal—he’s outside now, but his voice still carries. “Unless you can like accurately keep time in your head down to the second—”
“Oh my god, Dustin, you’re such a shithead.”
“Nancy Wheeler, I’m heartbroken.”
Steve’s chuckle floats through the open door. “She said it, dude, not me.”
“You say it all the goddamn time!”
And then the voices fade away until all Robin can hear is distant laughs and joyful screams. It’s relaxing, in its own way.
“No gymnastics for you, Buckley?” Eddie says.
“Nope, not since 7th grade. Managed two cartwheels before I broke my wrist.”
Eddie winces in sympathy. He’s slumping a bit more; Robin makes herself comfy in the opposite corner of the backseat, gives him the most space.
She feels a weird lump at her back, behind one of the cushions. A quick investigation reveals an issue of TV Guide Magazine.
“Ooh, we can find out what we missed while on the run,” she says, waggling it in front of Eddie.
He smiles with a small huff. “Doubt it. Says 1981 on the front.”
“What’s a little more time travel?”
Robin flicks through to the crossword. She’s all too aware that Eddie’s still sat more stiffly than anything else. With Steve, it would be so easy; she could prod him in the thigh with her toe, light touches until he took the hint and relaxed.
But even before they’d really become friends, they were tactile: a tap on the shoulder to grab attention, bumping hips to move each other out of the way whenever they were scooping ice-cream at the same time. It’d been done so unconsciously, like they were already learning to read each other’s minds.
With Eddie, it’s clear that a different approach is needed.
Robin had caught onto that after her misstep at the boathouse, a pit in her stomach at the sight of Eddie’s hands shaking.
But her instinct to reach out, to soothe, made her unthinkingly try again; as they walked in the woods, she’d heard his breathing quicken, and her hand lightly brushed his back. She drew back as he instantly flinched at her touch.
“Sorry, sorry,” she said hurriedly. “Just—just checking you were okay. Sorry.”
Eddie just stared at her before nodding hesitantly.
And Robin wanted to tell him that it wasn’t by chance, that he had people who cared about him; that she did, and it wasn’t a fluke or an accident—she was choosing it.
She keeps her eyes on the magazine, jots down a few crossword answers. It reminds her of summer days spent reading on her grandparents’ porch, not wanting to startle a cat her grandpa had rescued as it approached her. It was always so spooked.
“You’ve just gotta let him come to you, sweet pea,” her grandma would say.
After a couple minutes, she hears Eddie breathe out, the creak of the seat as he lies down. He rests his head right next to her thigh.
“S’good?” he asks, pointing at the magazine.
“It’s pretty easy.” One of the crossword clues is ‘The Lion, the Witch, and the?’ which isn’t exactly taxing. “I’m used to doing the cryptic ones.”
Eddie laughs. He kinda sounds fond. “Of course you are.”
“They’re not that hard, once you know how to read ‘em.”
“Hmm, I doubt that. Lay one on me, Buckley.”
She purses her lips in thought. “Oh, I got this one last week. Condition of Wyoming, five letters.”
Eddie lifts his head ever so slightly to give her a blank look. “Not a fucking clue.”
“State. Get it? ‘Cause ‘condition’ is the definition, and Wyoming is literally—”
“God, I’m surrounded by geniuses.”
“Well, I’ve got the advantage of a summer of code-breaking.”
Robin slowly raises her hand as she speaks—makes sure to do it in Eddie’s line of vision, spots that he doesn’t pull back, that he even gives the tiniest half-nod. She pats his head twice.
Eddie scrunches up his nose. “Sorry, my hair’s gross.”
“It’s not that bad,” Robin says honestly. “Y’know for being on the run, it’s holding up pretty well. I’m getting whatever shampoo you use.”
Eddie smiles. “Sure.”
“Yours is looking way better than mine did after, like, one day getting wrapped up in all this.” Again, without really thinking, Robin adds, “I had all this sweat and blood and puke in it.”
Eddie’s eyes are closed now. He makes an unhappy sound, prods gently at her knee. “You’ve all gotta work on telling me horrific shit. That should not be casual for you, Buckley.”
He sounds emphatic—protective, even. Robin feels unexpectedly emotional.
“Yeah, sorry. Bad habit.”
Silence falls, and by the time Steve enters the RV, Robin has filled in the whole crossword, Eddie dozing by her side.
Steve’s getting another bottle of water—actually drinking it this time. He’s got grass stains on his knees, and he’s sweating slightly, like the ‘stay still’ advice hasn’t once been taken.
His eyes soften again when he sees Eddie sleeping—he doesn’t need to linger, but he does.
Robin watches.
We need more time, Steve, she thinks suddenly. For you to keep looking at him like that—for him to be awake to see it.
Steve tears his eyes away. Lands on her.
She smiles, mouthing What?
Steve rolls his eyes. He imitates her ‘what?’ mockingly, but then he smiles back and taps at his wrist, mimes winding a watch on. It’s what they do whenever they’re slammed at work, wanting to talk, but only able to briefly catch each other’s eyes in the rush. Later.
She taps her wrist. Later, she promises.
He gives her a double thumbs up—what a dork—before heading back outside.
Robin quietly puts the magazine away. Ever so carefully, she lightly strokes Eddie’s hair, feels her heart swell and break at the same time when he sighs contentedly in his sleep.
You’d better look after yourself, Eddie Munson, she thinks. You’ve got people here. People who really want you to stick around.
2K notes · View notes
oh-no-its-bird · 23 days ago
Note
*falls out of a tree with a yelp*
There needs to be more people horny gripping for 40 year old Tobirama. Not enough people got to appreciate him. So I propose....
Tobirama and Kagami being yeeted back in time together via, Tobirama trying to save Kagami during his last stand but his blood loss made him have less control over his teleportation and instead of moving towards his other students Tobi moved himself and Kagami to the past. They proceed to do the usual of, making the village happen sooner as the norm of Naruto time travel fics lol
Except now Kagami is trying to keep Madara and/or Izuna from fucking his dad, who is not helping because he thinks this is funny. Do the brothers have Daddy Issues? Maybe...but older Tobirama go BRRRRRRRRRR
I am ringing the bell in the town square yelling ¡¡¡¡¡¡¡ OLD MAN FUCKER !!!!!¡¡¡¡ THERES AN OLD MAN FUCKER IN MY INBOX !!!!!!!! For all to hear
Kidding but only bc 40 isn't old enough to make u eligible for the title. Still ringing the bell tho
I'm in fucking tears tho that would be such a great crackfic.
Older Tobirama time travels w Kagami and instead of being a tense political drama ab the differences between his younger self and older (in some ways, both versions are harder and softer than eachother— just in different departments) and what this means for the future of Konoha. And the implications of having 2 Tobiramas and 2 Kagami's, and how older Tobirama must decide what to do about Madara's inevitable defection.
Instead of all that. It's just 11k words of Madara horny gripping his thighs, breathing heavily as he stares at older Tobirama from across a peace talk table as Izuna screams into a paper bag and Hikaku looks like he's having an out of body experience.
Make it funnier actually. Trick the readers and make the first bit of the fic like. Super serious and from (young) Tobirama's POV
He is living in that tense political drama ab facing the man he will one day grow to be, and meeting his future adopted son (who is an uchiha!!!) And all these implications and heavy moral dillemnas of that peace really means and if he will allow it to soften himself like it has done to this older him. But also if he will allow it to harden himself too— but then, won't that happen anyways as the years go by?
Then like halfway through the chapter u get the Madara POV and it's just him screaming internally ab how bad he wants to hit that.
The things he wants to do to that man...the things he wants that man to do to him...... he is mentioning these Things(tm) to Izuna and Izuna punches him in the face then screams to never talk to him again and runs away to probably scream into a pillow for an hour.
Hikaku tries to talk to Madara and learns More Than He Needed To Know and promptly stands up and power walks away
Meanwhile Izuna is actually attracted to older Tobirama but unlike Madara, who seems to be overwhelmed with it enough to cancel out any other thoughts and feelings, is really fucking mad about it
He wants to climb him like a tree. He also wants to murder him in his sleep. These two things are not mutually exclusive.
Hikaku approaches him, intending to commiserate ab Madara / let Izuna vent a bit bc hes clearly wound up and needs it. Only for Izuna to let slip his own (honestly much more alarming) fantasies. Hikaku is fucking going THROUGH it.
Meanwhile, (young) Tobirama in the bg, seeing none of this: "The true nature of peace...can someone like me really help create such a thing?"
(Older) Tobirama is enjoying the show and absoloutley aware of his effect.
Kagami needs him to STOP. This is the worst thing to ever happen to him in his life.
Uhh endgame one or both Tobirama's end up sleeping w Hikaku (the younger version possibly getting into a relationship w him after the elder leaves?) bc this is the funniest outcome to me. And Madara and Izuna lose their fucking minds ab it
157 notes · View notes
vidavalor · 1 year ago
Text
What I love about the cellar scene in the Job minisode is not even that it was Crowley who "tempted" Aziraphale into first trying food but that the scene shows that Aziraphale then took one look at Crowley lounging with a jug of wine getting off on watching him lose his mind with pleasure over eating for the first time and promptly decided that he was extremely into Crowley watching him like that... and that after this night, Aziraphale decided he would keep Crowley's interest more in the future by then becoming exceedingly well-table-mannered for the rest of eternity.
Every single time they have eaten together for millennia since, Aziraphale has been sitting up straight with a napkin on his knee and not a hint of mess and yeah, okay, so he's naturally a bit like this but he is leaning into it *hard*. He's been inviting Crowley to watch him eat since 2500 B.C. and turning it into the complete *opposite* of Job *on purpose*. Oh, a tiny dab of cream at the corner of his mouth? Only there for a teasing second before Aziraphale meticulously dabs it away... He eats every meal like he's being served in Buckingham Palace and on the surface, it might look like he's pretending that the ox rib night never happened but they both know it happened so it's really *referencing* it, every single damn time, for millennia. It's moaning over how scrumptious something is, like he's restraining himself from a full-on food orgasm in public, because he *is* and every time he intimates to Crowley the pleasure he's getting from the food but restrains himself from full-on gorging on it with true abandon, Aziraphale is intentionally reminding Crowley of the one, single time, thousands of years ago that Crowley got to watch him go wild with unbridled pleasure.
It is the exact opposite of what Aziraphale would do if he never wanted Crowley to ever think about the ox rib night ever again. It is *designed* to make him think about it every single time they eat together and Crowley absolutely knows it. He's gone in for it with his eyes wide open. ('Blown wide open' is probably a more accurate description...). So much so that being together is coded for them as high, fine dining-- dining at the Ritz. Aziraphale's been edging this poor demon over oysters and dessert since ancient Rome and that was all fairly evident in S1 but S2 deciding to be like 'actually, Crowley isn't *wondering* what Aziraphale would be like if he let loose over this meal, he's *remembering* what Aziraphale was like the one time he got to see him out of control-- and that he's entirely responsible for Aziraphale's food lust in the first place' is among the best 'new context from flashbacks' stuff in S2.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
adventuringblind · 1 year ago
Text
Possessive
Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri
Dialouge: "You are ours and ours only."
Summary: Oscar gets possessive during a night out.
Warnings: downright Filthy smut, marking, dom/sub, double penatration,
Notes: This is part of my 1000 follower celebration
Masterlist
Tumblr media
Neither Lando nor Oscar would say they are possessive men. They love each other and their girlfriend, and they know she loves them. It's very difficult, however, to remain neutral while watching another man flirt with her.
He started a conversation while she was dancing with Lily and Carmen during their post race celebrations. She'd politely tried to get away from him but the man is annoyingly persistent.
"Should we help her?"
"Can we do it without punching him is the real question."
"But it would be so satisfying if we did."
"Osc, you scoop the spiders up and take them outside. There is no way you can punch that guy."
The Australian whips around to face Lando. A smug look plastered on his face. "Wanna bet?"
Lando, with no alcohol in his system since he Despises the stuff, agrees. The Brit would soon come to learn never to challenge Oscar again.
The woman in question still looks highly unlikely comfortable and getting more agitated by the second. Relief, however, hits her as Oscar appears behind the man pursuing her and taps him on the shoulder.
"Pretty sure she wants to be left alone." His arms cross over his chest but he still looks as unassuming as ever.
Most people would assume Oscar doesn't know the definition of the word violence. She knows better, though. Her and Oscar had been together before Lando. If it's in the name of defense, he won't hesitate to swing.
"I don't see a boyfriend anywhere. Maybe you should go where you are wanted." The stupid man who can't take a hint seethes.
Oscar takes a step closer, invading the others space. "Seeing as I am one of two boyfriends she has, I think you should step away."
There is silence on the other end. Then a brutal look of disgust. "Well if she's used goods then you can have her, pal."
The look she hasn't seen for years only appears on Oscar for a second. The one that has is inner demons raging. The unflappable, sweet, gentle Oscar is seeing Red.
Only a second before the Aussies fist collides with the other man's jaw, sending him reeling backwards. He's always had a nasty right hook.
She says nothing as Oscar promptly takes her hand and guide her to the entrance. Lando trailing them from where he was watching. The Brit looks a mixture of terror and turned on.
The car ride is silent apart from the loud expressions passed between her and Lando and Oscar's fingers wandering occasionally. The last time he was like this neither of them could walk the next day.
The thing about Oscar, the incredibly calm and unfazed Australian, is that he takes all those emotions and puts them elsewhere. Into sex, specifically. Lando learned this the hard way. His teasing went one toe over the line. He ran out Oscar's patience in a series of events over the course of a week to test the limits.
So Oscar likes control more then he shows. It gives him an outlet, per say. He times and calculates and gets some kind of high off it. Plus it resets him to where he can take whatever shit people throw his way without losing his mind.
Oscar doesn't let go even after they are saftley back in their flat. Instead her body is slammed into wall of the entry way.
"Why don't you tell her what you said Lando. What got you into this mess." The voice he pulls out is the condescending one. The one that makes her knees weak.
"I said you wouldn't punch the guy."
"And if I proved you wrong?"
Lando swallows hard enough for her to hear it. Probably see it also, but her eyes are stuck staring at brown ones that are eating her alive.
"That I would do whatever you wanted tonight. No questions asked."
Lando screwing himself is not shocking. Now, Lando actually doing what he's told? That is even more shocking then when he got drunk. Only once before he decided he hated it for sure.
"Then I want you stripped and on the floor in the bedroom." Silently, the Birt pads away to do as told. Oscar loosens his hold on her body and give her some space. "Seriously though, are you okay? We won't do this if you were any kind if put off by that."
"And miss this opportunity? Absolutely not. If anything to sight of you actually punching somebody has me feral."
"Good. Then let's go find Lando."
Lando, to his credit, is following through. He just looks wicked sad about it.
"Lando? You alright love?"
"Doing what you're told is much less fun."
Oscar rolls his eyes at the pouting boy on the floor.
She was going to ask for instructions. But as she opens her mouth she finds there is no need. Oscar is dragging her to bed. Her clothes are litterally (and unfortunately) ripped from her body. The room is cold without layers, but it won't be for long.
Oscar's lips are everywhere. He kisses, sucks, licks, and bites every inch of skin on her body. Every peice of her knows the feeling of the Aussies warm lips. Every kiss leaves her tingly and every bite leaves her wanting.
"Lando, come here. I think people need to be reminded that she is ours. Would you like that baby? Do you want people to know you are ours and only ours?"
Her brain is too far gone to respond coherently. Lando has already got to work, claiming her where Oscar hasn't already. The Australians voice is gentle, but it's demanding. There is a need burried within it that says he needs people to know she's taken.
"I swear you're just too pretty. Everybody wants you. I'm tired of them not knowing you're already spoken for." Oscar is the next to shed his clothes. Lando's hands have gone from stagnant to touching her like she is the air he breathes. Both males are staking their claim on her tonight. A shared feeling of want for people to know she chose them passes between the two.
Mumbled pleads escape her. Some kind of contact where she's sensitive needs to happen or she might combust.
"Think you can take both of us in the same hole love?" Back to gentle. His need to care for her outweighed the need and desire to have her like this. It makes her agree so fast she gets dizzy from nodding her head so much.
Lando gets to be underneath her. His lips are still attached to her skin. It muffled the moans and tiny whines he's letting out as she sinks down onto him.
"Yiu know, Lando. That guy said our girl is used goods. What do you think? Do you agree with him?"
Lando detaches, his mouth agape. "I can barely get into her mate. I don't know how you're going to. Feels good to me."
"But aren't I used?" She whimpers.
Lando's hand reaches around her front to play with her clit. His large nimble fingers send shockwaves through her body.
"You are not 'used goods' baby." Lando says into her skin. His warm breath sticks to her shoulder. "We love you. We're keeping you. Fuck anyone who says shot like that."
To say she's gushing at this point is an understatement, despite that fact Oscar decideds lube is a smart idea. Now she's even more wet and sticky that she was with just her own self made lubricant.
Oscar takes it incredibly slow. To slow for her liking. But the second he's sliding into her, the friction with Lando, the stretch and positioning of everything. Yeah - it hurts.
Her teeth sink into Oscar's shoulder. Lando's hand is caressing her cheek and wiping away the stray tears that slip down the sides of her face.
It is ridiculous, really, the situation she's in right now. But she can't think as Oscar is cooing praises in her ear and Lando is meticulously puting his hands on her.
They spiral quickly after that. The tension that was in Oscar's shoulders releases as he is finally able to take what he needs. Lando has decended into a mess of moans and thrusting hips.
She is completely at their mercy. A mess of movment. The symphonic melodies of their voices fill the space of the bedroom. Hot breaths stick to her skin over the already present layer of sweat.
The ache in her bones and coil in her stomach rapidly approach a breaking point. She can't even warn them as everything in her snaps and leave her body a flailing mess. The two boys stutter and sink further into the mattress.
Then a silence. An amazing thread connecting all three bodies together.
They stay like that for the next ten minutes. Unmoving. Listening to the sounds of breathing and heartbeats.
"That was eventful."
"No kidding."
"Sorry if I was to rough."
All of them laugh. "Maybe you should apoligize to the guy at the club."
Oscar pulls out slowly, and then Lando lifts her gently off him. Then they actually collapse. Arms outstretched to hold each other close. "We need to clean up."
"We also need to look at your knuckles, Osc."
"I still can't believe you punched him."
Oscar rolls his eyes. "Well it ended well didn't it? I don't hear you complaining."
"Remind me to never challenge you again."
722 notes · View notes
k-hotchoisan · 1 year ago
Note
hii it’s me again with another request (sorry)
Could you write smtg based off the song agora hills by doja cat? whatever member u prefer is fine 💕💕
anywayssss i love you smmm and u are an amazing person!! 💕💕🤭🧎‍♀️
omg that is such a cute song (if you squint hard enough past the public sex HAHAHAH)
Please never apologise for coming back for a request, you know I’ll always welcome you with open arms 🥰
Always thank you for being so sweet vic (if it’s okay to call you that~) and for giving me inspiration + pushing me write out of my boundaries. I genuinely appreciate it.
AND I LOVE YOU TOO 🗣️🩷😭
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Where you and Seonghwa have a fight before his Grand Prix finals, but he still wins, and loses his fucking mind when he sees you still cheering for him despite that.
Genre/Warnings: racer au, smut, semi public sex, you fuck Seonghwa in his racer gear, IF YOU SQUINT HARD ENOUGH THERES LIKE ANGST (it isn’t heavy don’t worry), creampies, mild dacryphilla, unprotected sex, sweaty sex
Tumblr media
You storm past your partner into the hotel room, trying to let the anger dissipate. Seonghwa is trying to get to you, explaining what you saw. You know that it couldn’t be helped, but feel the thorns prickling your heart when you couldn’t even approach him when you caught one of his overly zealous and nepotistic fans with her hands over him during the after party. Nothing much could done because;
a. He couldn’t do anything about it because the relationship between the both of you had to be kept a secret, his management did not like the thought of entertaining Seonghwa in a relationship when his career is at his peak;
b. The Grand Prix finale was tomorrow. A lot of stakes were in place, and Seonghwa knew better than to fuck it up, especially when he’s worked so hard to get where he is now. He’s so close.
He’s also so fucking close to just wanting to let the world know how possessive he is over you.
“You know it’s not like that right?” and he goes on and on. You know that it’s part of his job—to network, get more sponsors, even if it meant letting other women get a little too close to him. You understand, you do, but oh god, it gets so fucking exhausting. You just wanted time for yourself to clear your head and process the whole thing, and potentially stabbing that nepo baby at least sixty times in your head.
Your arms are crossed. Arguing with him is the last thing you want to do right now, especially when the both of you barely escaped getting caught sneaking into his hotel room. All that for a fight to erupt between the both of you after a long and tense day on the track. You glare at him with a pout.
“I’m going home.”
Seonghwa whips his head so fucking fast, his eyes piercing right into you. He looks absolutely dumbfounded.
“Are you serious?”
You nod. “I’m sorry that I overreacted, but now, I’m not risking us getting caught when tomorrow’s the finals.”
Seonghwa wants to fucking pounce and cage you in. Before he even attempts to deflect your words, you cut him off-
“-and especially when you’re not the one dating someone who needs to keep a relationship a secret.” You sigh. “Please get some rest, Hwa.”
You pull the hotel door open, and leave promptly. Seonghwa stands there, his brows furrowed as frustration bleeds into him. He wants to so badly chase after you, but he knows you wouldn’t let him, not when there could be a chance to risk getting caught by anyone from his team.
As the cab pulls away further from the hotel, your phone is spammed by Seonghwa, and he’s explaining himself. You purse your lips, reading over his texts, but you only decide to reply a curt reiteration of what you told him earlier at his hotel room, and a “love you”, before unlocking your door to finally wash up.
A ping of guilt courses through you—you know you shouldn’t misunderstand or be jealous, but if anything, it was but how it made you feel, and it wasn’t pretty. You didn’t mean to show a perturbed expression when his eyes glanced at you after he barely managed to shake his little fan girl off him, but it was just automatic. And if anything, Seonghwa is just as possessive as you are, if not worse, especially when he sent death glares to your direction when another male had approached you, and periodically touched you up on your arms, which kind of caused the argument to even start in the first place.
Your eyes flutter close, exhausted, as sleep drags you in deeper, the last thing in your mind being Seonghwa.
Tumblr media
The morning sun leaks through the windows of Seonghwa’s room. He’s already up, albeit half awake, getting ready for another whole day of racing. His mind was set on going all out for the finals, but something still remains at the back of his mind, and he doesn’t want to push it away. He thinks to himself, he wants to do it for you.
You only send Seonghwa a short text of encouragement, and he doesn’t reply. Then again, he is wrapped up with interviews over interviews, training and the finale would only start when dusk sets. You don a body con dress, paired with one of Seonghwa’s racer jackets you stole, might as well surprise him a little bit.
On the cab to the event, Seonghwa’s gorgeous face is plastered all over the Grand Prix news, as one of the rising stars. He looks absolutely stunning, no doubt, and it gets your heart racing too because you cannot believe he’s yours.
You take a seat amongst the noisy crowd around you. The atmosphere was getting really riled up, especially when the racers all appear on the big screen as they walk back stage to their cars. Your eyes are glued to the screen as Seonghwa appears in his racing gear, and he winks at the camera, a slew of fangirl screams burst around you, and you cover your mouth to suppress a giggle. All the hard feelings the night before faded off, and you heart felt full yet anxious for Seonghwa.
It takes awhile for the warm up and safety check to be cleared, but before you knew it, the checkered flags are raised and lights turned green, cheers roar across the tracks as the loud screeches of the cars overpower them.
Throughout the laps, Seonghwa falls in between 3rd and 4th place, you bite your lip, praying that he’s able to catch up. As the laps close in to its final rounds, Seonghwa slowly climbs up the position to first, and he maintains, amazingly. The night continues to burn with anticipation as the final lap commences, with Seonghwa neck to neck with another racer, switching between first and second.
The final corner becomes the make or break—as Seonghwa drifts, effectively overtaking just slightly before fully taking the spot for first.
And he speeds into the finishing line, winning championship.
You jump from your seat, your fingers clasped from the tension as the announcer is proclaiming Seonghwa’s win, and the screen flashes his winning race in slow motion. Your heart is pounding in your ears as the screams are blocked out. You are so proud that nothing leaves your lips as you fight the tears from falling as you clap. The screen flickers to the car cam, and you see Seonghwa pumping his fist in victory as he rides through another victory lap.
The barricade has fans screaming Seonghwa’s name as he leaves the car and pulls his helmet off. He looks so fucking amazing even when he’s sweaty, and you can’t help but feel your heart skip a beat. You decide not to squeeze with the fans near the barricade, opting to stand further away.
Well, now where does this relationship go? He’ll probably be even further from you now.
A huge group of reporters swarm him, and he looks overwhelmed, that is until his eyes scan the crowd and lands on you, just when you’re ready to turn to leave.
Seonghwa’s heart skips a beat, his eyes are only tunnelling you as he pushes past the crowd, jumping past the barricade to where you are. You have a small smile on your face because you know he deserves all of this.
A tight grip on your hand halts you in your tracks, shocking you, as you turn around with wide and confused eyes. He pulls his goggles off. Before you could even process it, Seonghwa has his jacket that you’re wearing in his fist as his hands travel up cup your jaw—and he pulls you in for a deep kiss.
Your eyes shut as the kiss scatters fireworks beneath your eyelids, with Seonghwa’s lips right pressing against yours. Your mind is fuzzy, as your ears blocks out the loud screams of his fans. He pulls back after what feels like an eternity, before bowing politely at the group of fans and reporters in front of him as he leads you away.
From the circuit track to his hotel room, he never once let go of your hand, probably only gripping it tighter the closer he got to his room. He doesn’t say a damn thing either, probably because he still has the adrenaline pumping in his veins. Nonetheless, you still can’t tell what he’s thinking, and you’re wondering if he’s still upset.
At least not until the moment the door closes behind you.
Because he turns his heels right at you as devours your lips, not letting go at all, even as peels off his jacket, then yours.
He finally pulls back, giving you a breather. His eyes look absolutely wild as he tugs his jacket off you, exposing the way your dress hugs your curves, and his breathing becomes heavier.
“Fuckin hell. You don’t know how much it drives me insane when you’re wearing my jacket over something fuckin slutty like this. Fuck,” he groans, kicking his shoes off. You stare at him breathlessly as you remove your shoes as well, but your gaze never leaving how Seonghwa looks so fucking good with a compression shirt on—the way it hugs his biceps, the way it pulls taut against his chest and abdomen, the gorgeous bounce of his fucking tits every time he shifts his arms. He doesn’t remove his top before pulling you right back into his arms, his hands snaking up to grab your braless tits, which makes him groan again.
“Fuck, you’re not even wearing a bra. Are you fucking kidding me?” His erection presses hard against your thigh, and you’re working through your brain to find and answer amidst being trapped by pleasure. “And where did you think you were running to, looking like that?”
“N-nowhere! I thought you’d be caught up with the report-“ he cuts you off with another hungry kiss. God, he’s so desperate that you can’t help feel the heat pool between your legs. It doesn’t help that he had pulled your dress down past your chest, and his hands are all over your tits, sending sparks down your your spine, right to your pussy. Seonghwa pulls away once more, licking the string of spit that connected the both of you.
Seonghwa hums. “Mmm. Shouldn’t have asked. I’d still fuck you dumb anyway.” Your grip on his arm tightens. His fingers snake under your dress, tugging on your panties as he pulls the pair down, and pockets the pair of panties. The wet patch of slick doesn’t go unnoticed by him. His gaze locks onto yours as he makes sure you watch him cover his fingers with spit before his fingers head south. His fingers meet your slick that covered your cunt and scoffs.
“You’re already so fucking wet already”. He doesn’t give you a chance to answer as his fingers begin rubbing your clit. You lean forward and sigh as you use his shoulder to lean your head on. He lets you for a moment, adoring the way you’re beginning to squirm underneath him. Then he’s grabbing your waist and then dumping you right on the couch, pushing your legs open for him. Your cunt glistens with slick right for him, and Seonghwa is more than ready to dive in, giving a lick before fully immersing his tongue right into your sex, flicking his tongue against your clit, his hands squeezing your thighs. Your fingers are tangled in his hair and your head is thrown back as you tug his slicked back hair. If you weren’t seeing stars, you’d be seeing the fucking heavens.
Seonghwa hits a pace where you’re beginning to see white spots beneath your eyelids and the knot tugs hard in your stomach. Your thighs contract immediately, but Seonghwa keeps them apart, because he knows that’s the sweet spot. He knows it makes you tingle and it gets him so fucking excited. His tongue works even quicker on your clit and your orgasm builds so fucking quick and your whines climb up in octave, music to Seonghwa’s ears.
“There, there. Oh fuck. I’m cumming. Oh my fucking god”, leaving your lips like a mantra, alongside more whines of his name as your orgasm tingles through your body in waves. His tongue presses against your clit and he sucks on your clit, causing you to jolt, tears already streaking from the overstimulation. Seonghwa’s moaning in your wet cunt, making sure he devours every part of your orgasm as his ego inflates. A broken cry leaves your lips as you release his locks, your hands slumping against the couch. Seonghwa presses a wet kiss against your cunt with a smile. He wipes his lips with the back of his hand as he towers over you, his erection staining his pants already. Oh god, you love the way your arousal is all over his plump lips nonetheless. He was made for eating you out. He leans in for another ravenous kiss—and he swears he can never get enough of it. Before you realise it, your dress is pulled back up past your tits.
His fingers gently intertwine with yours as he pulls you up, and leads you to-
“The balcony?” You question, your heart hammering in your chest. Seonghwa cracks a smile as he leans in.
“Yeah. I wanna show the world my girl. I’ll fuck you so good that I’ll make sure the world knows.”
“But-“
“It’ll be fine. I’m serious. We’re so high up and we’re clothed, well kind of ”, he comforts. You bite your lip, because fuck, it was definitely exhilarating to be fucked on the balcony. You wanted the world to know that he’s yours too and the thought of it only heats you up even more.
He leads you the beach chair at the side, where he makes you sit and hang your legs on either side of the arm rests, and he’s about to remove his compression top but your hands stop his before you realise it. He looks at you, concern flashes over his face for brief second.
“Fuck me with your racer gear on.”, you blurt out, curling your fingers against the taut fabric. Seonghwa’s expression immediately switches over to one of a smirk. “What have you been fantasising about, darling?” He pokes, looming over you with a cocky smile.
You can’t escape, the only thing that does is a small whimper. Seonghwa doesn’t push for an answer, because he’s busy yanking his pants down past his thighs, and his cock springs out, hitting his lower abdomen. He sighs as he gives his fat cock a couple of pumps while looking at you with your legs spread wide open for him, your pussy just salivating at the thought of him pounding into you into the next week.
He lines himself to your entrance and doesn’t warn you before he enters, and a squeal leaves your lips, then a soft cry as he pushes more inches into you—every inch going thicker and thicker as he goes down to the base, until he’s snug in your cunt.
“That’s my good girl. Warm and wet, just how I like it”, he whispers into your ears, as he strokes your thighs gently. More sobs leave you, your fingers pressing onto Seonghwa’s arms.
Just when you thought you couldn’t fit any more of Seonghwa, the sudden thought of him right now, fucking you in his uniform somehow swallowed more of his cock, earning you the most gorgeous moan from Seonghwa as his eyes roll back and his eyebrows scrunched.
“Baby-fuck!-just what are you thinking about? Squeezing me like this? Oh god”, his knuckles are whitening from his grip on the arm rest. He pulls out before starting a pace to fuck you with, and soon enough it’s only the sounds of skin slapping, both of your moans and the feeling of Seonghwa’s cock just pounding right into the perfect angle of your cunt that exists in this damn universe. You wouldn’t ask for more.
Your brain was becoming pulp, only soft sobs every time Seonghwa’s balls deep into you. You could only focus on how his biceps tensed against the fabric as his tits fucking bounced every time his slams his cock into you—which you definitely see it too—the way his pants hang just at his lower thighs, and his cock is just disappearing into your pussy, drawing out squelching sounds that were borderline obscene. Drops of sweat splatter onto your dress as he leans in to rest his forehead onto yours.
“So good. So fucking good to be inside you like this”, he curses, trying to not the feeling of his orgasm overpower him. As you were gradually losing yourself to the pleasure, he suddenly pulls back completely, and instructs you to face the night scenery with your ass out. He crumpled your dress to your waist, and his cock enters you again, causing you to draw a sharp breath. He doesn’t let you adjust—he just starts fucking you raw like that, leaving your mouth agape and eyes blown out from the pleasure.
He’s able to reach even deeper part of your pussy now, and he makes sure you fucking cry for him. “H-Hwa!”, you try to speak in between sobs. “Oh god, oh god. I can’t. It’s so deep.” Your hands barely have the strength to hold onto the rails as he is railing you from behind.
“That’s my pussy. Milk me dry baby”, Seonghwa grunts, his fucking becoming more erratic, admiring the way your ass bounces off his cock so naturally. “I’m cumming all the way in baby. Be a good girl and take it, yeah?”
And a drawn out moan fills your ears as his cum floods your abused hole, and you cry out as your second orgasm hits you, clenching his cock even more. A loud slap reverberates into the night as his hand lands on your ass, causing you to flinch and squeal.
“That’s it, baby. Oh, you’re such a good girl”, he hums, holding your hips as far as his cock would let him drive into you, letting cum dribble down your inner thighs. He pulls out slowly, admiring the way your cunt convulses, small loads of his cum and yours leak out of you. You release your grip from the railings and fall right into his arms, as he plants a loving kiss on your temple before whispering,
“I promise you’re the only one for me, baby.”
887 notes · View notes
souliebird · 1 year ago
Text
[[and then I met you || ch. 10]]
Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit
Summary:
A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.
pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9
Words: 4.2k
banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
When Minnie was six months old, you used to sleep on the couch so you wouldn't wake her up trying to get ready for bed. It would hurt your back - your couch was not very comfortable to sleep on - but you would sacrifice your comfort so she could sleep. No one in their right mind would wake a sleeping baby - even one that was always happy to go down for a nap. 
As your mind begins to stir, you become aware of the familiar ache in your lower back and the unfamiliar one pulsing around your eyes. Your hand slowly snakes up from where you had curled it against your chest and press your fingers along the bridge of your nose and up to the curve of your eyebrow, testing to see if the throbbing was sinus related. Nothing is triggered but your memories of the night before creep into your consciousness. 
Minnie with her tantrum and Matt with his amazing senses. 
You groan into the cushion as it all falls into place. Your eyes hurt from crying, not your sinuses, and you must have fallen asleep on the couch after your breakdown. 
Shame and embarrassment course through you. You hate crying and you hate that someone witnessed it. You can't imagine what he must think of you now - losing it like that. You should have been able to handle the news far better than you had and you're going to promptly apologize the next time you talk to him. You had acted so selfishly when it was clear he had control over the situation. 
But you don't have time to sit and wallow in your wretchedness - your daughter needs you to get up and be a capable adult, so you will your aching body to sit up. 
Your phone is sitting on the table in front of you, so you grab it to check the time. It's half past seven and your daughter has probably been awake for at least an hour. More shame courses through you - you always try to wake up before her so you can take care of her. You can only guess what state she is in. 
Your head spins as you stand, but you try to ignore it in favor of heading towards the bedroom. You prepare yourself to find a soiled bed - you didn't bother to change her into her night clothes and a pull-up and she is still mastering waking up when she needs to pee at night. 
The door is partially open and as you near it, you hear her tiny voice talking nonsense as she plays with something. You take a deep breath and push into the room, ready to face the start of your day.
Your mind short-circuits at what you encounter.
Both beds are clean and made, far tidier than you usually make them, and Minnie is sat on the floor with Scooby and some of her other stuffed animals, having what looks to be a tea party. To your absolute confusion, she is already dressed, and her hair has been put into pigtails with mismatched bows. You know for a fact she can't reach where you keep her hair supplies - you put them on a high shelf after she got into them to play salon before and managed to get her hair tangled so badly you had to cut things out. 
It doesn't even take her half a second to notice you and her little face breaks into the biggest smile, “Mommy!”
Still very much confused, you step forward to join the tea party circle and kneel down to be level with her. “Hi, sweetie,” you greet, trying your best to not alarm her. “Did you get dressed all by yourself?”
“Not-uh! Mister Matt helped! We watched lots of videos about hair and he made me pretty!”
You frown at that, “Mister Matt helped?” Had he stayed the night after you fell asleep? If so, where is he now? Your apartment isn't that big, and the bathroom door is open. Had he left before you woke up? You don’t like the idea of him leaving Minnie unsupervised.
Your daughter nods as she turns back to her toys, pretending to pour you a cup of tea and handing it over. You automatically pretend to take a sip.
“He helped make me pretty,” she confirms after putting her tea pot down, “now he's getting foods. Bagels!”
You turn the statement over in your mind - there is a bagel shop around the corner Minnie loves and if Matt is right about her also having enhanced abilities, maybe, just maybe, he didn't leave her unwatched. 
You bite your lip, then dare to push.
“Mouse, do you think you can tell me where Mister Matt is right now? Can you hear him?”
She doesn't acknowledge you right away, fussing with another piece of her tea set. You wait, allowing her to process what is being asked of her and watch as she slowly starts to move her head in minute movements, like she's tracking something. It's terrifying and fascinating to see a look of concentration come over her face and after about thirty seconds, she breaks into another big smile.
“He's talking to a frog!” 
“A frog..?” You ask, wondering if Matt was wrong about Minnie having heightened senses and she's playing pretend again.
“Yeah, he says…he says.. He's telling froggy he can't go to work. He's gonna stay with us!”
It clicks instantly. Matt isn't talking to a frog. He's talking to his business partner, Foggy Nelson, and as far as you know, Matt hasn't mentioned him or Karen yet by name to Minnie. 
“Can you tell where he is?” You ask again, being sure to be gentle with your question. 
“Outside,” is her response, like it is the most obvious thing in the world. “Froggies can't come inside. Do you want sugar?” She holds up her toy spoon and you offer her your tea cup.
“Yes, please.” 
She pretends to scoop sugar and you watch her in amazement. You are of course going to have to confirm that Matt was talking to Foggy, but it is so hard to believe your little one can hear that. You can't hear what is going on in your own living room, let alone outside your apartment. You cannot imagine how loud everything must be, how much input Mouse must be getting - but she doesn't seem bothered by it at all right now. 
She seems to be completely over her tantrum from yesterday and you want to ask her about it, but you aren't sure how or if she has the ability to express it. You know there are days you get overwhelmed and upset and you can't think of another way to explain it other than “too much”. You can't expect a three year old to articulate it better than you can. 
She's got a sweet little smile and part of you fears if you bring up her previous upset, it will spiral right back into a meltdown. So, you watch instead - watch as she goes back to playing make pretend with her toys, seemingly unbothered. You sip at your tea, making up a list of questions for Matt when he returns from his errand. 
Minnie plays for about five minutes before she perks up, beaming up at you, “Mister Matt asks if you can open the door, please thank you."
Her statement throws you for a moment and you aren't sure how much you like the idea of her being able to tell you all these things. It scares you - her knowing things you don't and not knowing what she does know. 
Maybe it is one of the things you and Matt can talk about - then talk about it with your sweet Mouse. You are going to have to get used to it, either way.
You push yourself into standing and motion for Minnie to come along. She scrambles up and runs out of the room, delighted laughter following her.
You are still in your clothes from the night before and you wish you had taken a moment to check your hair or even brush your teeth. You try to tell yourself it is fine, but your anxiety just argues back, and you feel like a complete slob by the time you get to the front door.
Your stomach and heart both do a funny clench at the sight of Matt, who is still sporting his borrowed shirt. You don't know if you want to fall into his arms or throw up or go hide under your covers so you can pretend all of this is a dream. Instead, you step aside so he can come inside and silently beg your mind to stop collapsing in on itself. 
“Breakfast delivery,” Matt says as a greeting, his entire face lighting up with a smile. He's holding a bag from the shop around the corner in one hand and a drink carrier with two large drinks along with a small one in his other.
You can feel your face starting to heat up and force your eyes down to the ground, mumbling, “you didn't need to do that.” 
He shrugs as he toes off his shoes, “I wanted to, and someone,” his voice turns teasing as he directs his next comments to Minnie, “wouldn't stop talking about bagels.”
Your daughter erupts into giggles, then turns and runs back towards the kitchen. Matt gives a pleased laugh, and your stomach flips again. He follows Minnie, and after you relock the door, you join them. 
They are sitting at the dining table, Mouse watching with a big smile as bagels are laid out on the table. Matt narrates for both of you, “Three egg bagels with plain cream cheese, two large coffees, and one kid’s hot chocolate. Now, is that the right order or was someone taking advantage?”
Minnie giggles more and that relaxes your shoulders. “No, that's right. Thank you, you really didn't -” You cut yourself off as you realize the table is clear of any mess from the night before. There are no plates on the table or in the sink, there's no lasagna stains on the floor, there's no leftovers sitting out. Your eyes drift to Matt. 
He must have cleaned after you had fallen asleep. Guilt courses through you - he shouldn't have to be dealing with your messes, especially in your own living space. You are going to need to not only apologize but return the favor somehow. You aren't sure how you'll do that - no one has ever done this much for you before, and Matt has done so so much in such a short time. 
You're dragged from your thoughts as a coffee is placed in front of you. 
“It's just black, I didn't know how you took it,” the kind, handsome lawyer says, and your heartbeat is so loud in your ears. It beats harder when you remember that not only can he hear your body and mind freaking out, but so can your daughter. 
Your instinct tells you to panic at the idea of someone knowing that much about you. You always try to stay calm on the outside while having a meltdown, but that doesn't matter with him. He'll know you're a mess. You can't hide it. 
You hear Matt ask Minnie something about her tea party and watch as she skips away from the table, but it's like your mind doesn't process it. You feel completely frozen because you don't know how to act - you don't know how to hide yourself from the man in front of you. You don't know how to hide yourself away from your daughter. 
How can you protect her from yourself? Your own body?
Suddenly, Matt is in front of you, cupping your cheeks with his large, warm hands and whispering your name. He's practically right on top of you, gently rubbing his thumbs over your skin, “Hey, hey, it's okay. It's okay. Everything is okay. Can you take a deep breath for me?”
“What?” You ask, so confused about what is going on. You don't understand why he's saying it's okay. 
“A deep breath, sweetheart. Can you take a deep breath?”
Your mind will not wrap the reason for the instruction, but you do as you are told. You inhale through your nose and that earns you a soft smile. He continues to pet you, gently instructing you to exhale after a moment and you obey. 
“Again?” He prompts and you nod. You feel shaky as you try to focus on breathing. You've always hated these exercises - they've never worked for you and have only served to frustrate you, and now you are just trying to make sure you are doing it right. How embarrassing would it be to fuck up breathing in front of Matt? 
“That's it,” he says so calmly, “Just breathe. I know it's a lot. I know. One step at a time. Let's have some breakfast, okay? Let's sit and have coffee and we can all talk. How's that sound?”
It sounds good, it sounds like the right thing to do, but your throat is clenching and not wanting to produce words, so you nod instead. 
You close your eyes to try to center yourself and somehow calm down. Matt lingers, keeping a hold of you until you hear Minnie coming back to the kitchen. It seems like he waits until the last possible moment before pulling away. 
Seeing your daughter looking so happy helps to reset your mind. She's fetched Scooby and Pig and runs up to the table to put them in their chair. You smile at the sight.
She really does seem like she's perfectly fine and maybe Matt is right and everything is okay. For now, at least. 
You force yourself into action, moving to set one of the bagels in front of Mouse, setting it on a napkin. You're going to need to transfer the hot chocolate into a mug or Mouse will spill on herself.
“Thank you, Mommy!”
She practically dives into her bagel, picking it up and taking a big bite and getting cream cheese on her cheeks. She is completely engrossed with her food.
“Thank Mister Matt, he got us breakfast,” you advise before going to get a napkin. While you are in the kitchen, you grab your creamer from the fridge.
“Thank you, Mister Matt!” she chimes before barreling on. “Mommy, did you know Mister Matt can braid hairs!”
Guilt courses through you and you remind yourself you need to thank Matt for everything he has done for you. But you tell yourself to not think of it right now - you are terrified of Minnie sensing your panic and that somehow shuts your mind down and you go into parent mode. 
“No, I didn't. Did you ask him to braid your hair?” You ask as you move in to wipe her face. She obediently tilts her face towards you and closes her eyes as you clean away the cream cheese. In the corner of your eye you see Matt sip from his coffee, a smile forming in his lips.
“She wanted puffs,” he advises, “I learned a lot of new hair terminology today. Minnie is a very good teacher.” 
Your daughter preens at the praise before taking another bite of her bagel. More cream cheese gets on her face. You decide to wait until she's done eating before tidying her up again. It will be pointless otherwise.
Instead, you start to fix your coffee, removing the lid to add creamer. You eye your daughter as you do, letting yourself finally take in her appearance. 
“You're a good stylist,” you tell Matt, and it is true. Her pigtails look even and as smooth as can be expected for a toddler. You don't see any tangles and if Minnie is happy, you have no grievances with the outcome - only guilt that Matt was the one who dealt with it. 
“I have some experience,” he hums, before taking another sip of his coffee. Then he directs his smile to his daughter, “my best friend used to have long hair. He has little nieces and they used to do his hair at Christmas, and I got roped into helping. I'm told I do a pretty good French braid.”
Mouse giggles before gasping and pointing at you, “do Mommy's hair!”
Embarrassment floods you - you don't think anyone has done your hair since you were Minnie’s age, and your current hair is a gross greasy mess and you don't want anyone touching it. 
Matt hums as he tilts his head towards you, “I think Mommy is better at doing her hair than I would be. But maybe next time?”
“Maybe next time,” you agree, hoping that will be enough to deter your daughter from this path. 
Luckily, she quickly parrots, “Next time!”
You offer her a smile and take a much needed drink of your coffee. It not only warms you but helps to ground you back into reality. 
You remind yourself nothing has actually changed - you are just more aware of the world. To Minnie, this is the same as any other day and you need to get yourself back on track. 
Which means you need to confirm some things with Matt. 
You set your coffee down, then pick up Minnie’s hot chocolate and bring it to the kitchen to transfer into one of her kid-friendly tumblers. You clear your throat, then dare to try, “Minnie said you'd be spending the day with us?”
“You told the froggy!” Mouse happily adds.
Matt looks confused for a few seconds before it must click, “Foggy, sweetheart, not Froggy. Foggy is my best friend - the one who had long hair.”
“Froggy!” Is the defiant response and you know better than to argue. Once something is named, the name sticks. But of course, Matt doesn't know this and you decide to let him learn.
“Foggy,” he tries. “Like a cloud. Not a frog.”
“Froggy!” 
“Fog. Foggy. No ‘r’.”
“Frog. Froggy! Froggy! Froggy!” Minnie bounces in her seat, starting to giggle. You return to the table, securing the lid to the sippy tumbler before placing it down.
“Ribbit ribbit,” you add and that gets you a delighted burst of laughter.
“Ribbit ribbit!”
Matt practically pouts but seems to realize he isn't going to win this. “But yes, I… told Foggy I wanted to spend the day with you. When I was in the phone, outside.” His dramatic sad face turns into something soft as he tilts his head towards Minnie, “Did you tell your Mommy you heard me?”
“I, uh, asked if she could,” you say, feeling silly for admitting it. But you know this is the path you need to take to start understanding what enhanced senses mean.
“I can hear everything,” your little one proudly says, and you've heard her say it before - but now you know she isn't just playing pretend.
“Yes, you can,” is Matt's soft reply. Unlike your underlying panic, his voice seems to carry a fondness about the whole situation. He is the one with the experience and you want to trust him with the lead on this, but it's still absolutely terrifying. 
But you know you need to set the ball up, so you gently push, “Did you know Mister Matt can also hear…everything?” You know it's not everything, at least by what Matt said, but you aren't going to get technical with a toddler. “Mommy can't, though. Mommy’s hearing isn't as good as yours and Mister Matt's.”
Mouse looks between the two of you, pursing her lips up as she thinks, then she reaches out and pats your arm comfortingly, “I'll tell you what I hears, Mommy.”
Your heart soars with so much love and you turn your hand so you can take hers and give it a gentle squeeze, “Thank you, baby.” 
“I can hears a bark-bark dog and a woofy dog,” she starts, “and there's a puppy going ‘yip-yip-yip!’”
Matt laughs a little and your focus is ripped away from Minnie and over to him. He absolutely beams at you, looking proud as can be. You wonder what this like for him - having someone else who can hear what he can.
“There's a doggy day care about two blocks north,” he informs, and it is so hard to wrap your mind around the fact your daughter can hear that far. “Clients are starting to arrive, and they are lively.”
There's a flash of brown and Minnie is waving Scooby at Matt, “Bark bark bark!”
“Is Scooby a barky dog?” He asks, leaning forward towards her and putting his elbows on the table. “Not a woofy dog?”
“Bark bark!” Is the response before Mouse makes him growl. You finally allow yourself to sit and watch the sweet interaction. Everything still feels like it's too much and swirling inside you, but seeing Matt and Minnie bond is soothing - even if it's over something you can't understand yet.
“What about Pig? Does he go bark-bark or woofy?” 
His question gets Minnie to gasp as if she's scandalized. “Pig isn't a doggy!”
“Oh, he isn't?” Matt teases, “I can't see him. What is he?”
“He's a piggy!” She snatches up Pig and clutches him to her chest beside Scooby. You hope she doesn't have cream cheese on her fingers because cleaning her toys is always an adventure. She hates when they have to get washed and now, you guess, you understand why. They probably smell different after being washed or the texture is off. It's something you'll have to explore later.
“What type of noises do piggies make?”
“Oink-oink-oink!”
“Oh, that makes sense,” he hums, then hunches forward more and lowers his voice, like he's talking in secret, “And what sounds do little girls named Minnie make?”
You finally get to take a bite of your bagel as you watch her contemplate the question. Her face screws up in thought before lighting up when she decides her answer.
“Ooogie-boogie-boo!” 
Matt throws his head back with laughter, which makes Minnie dissolve into happy giggles. The sheer joy between the two of them pulls a smile out of you and the heaviness in your chest starts to lighten more. 
“Ooogie-boogie-boo?” You question and your daughter giggles more. 
“Ooogie-boogie-boo! Like Scooby!”
You don't understand what that means but you just let the positivity continue. 
“What about Mommy? What sounds do I make?” You ask, curious what her response will be.
“Bumbum-bumbum.” They aren't words, but you instantly get it is supposed to be your heartbeat. You feel yourself start to flush. Matt had told you that Minnie listens to your heart to ground herself, so of course that is what she associates you with. But hearing it from her mouth and getting that confirmation still rocks you. 
“It's a good sound, isn't it?” Matt asks Minnie and you can imagine how red you are turning. You try to hide behind your coffee.
“The bestest,” Minnie agrees before adding, “After Scooby Song. Scooby Dooby Do! Where are you!”
“We've got some work to do now,” you half mumble, half sing with her.
“I've never heard the Scooby song,” the man beside you says and that triggers Mouse into action. She slides off her chair, and still clutching her toys, hurries across the room to the television. She knows how to bring up what she wants, so it only takes a few seconds before there is an episode starting to play on screen. 
She drops her toys and the remote before running back to Matt and tugging on his - technically yours - shirt. “You gotta listen!”
He barely gets to stand up before being pulled into the living room. He does not resist in the slightest to being directed to sit on the ground and you watch as Minnie begins to explain the intricate lore of her favorite show. To your wonder she describes each character by their voice first and you can tell Matt is completely enthralled by what he is being told. Scooby gets moved from laying on the floor to being shoved into Matt's lap so he can hold onto him. 
You realize without fanfare that you can barely hear the television. It is still on low volume from last time you had it on, and it dawns on you that you never really have it turned up too loud. Minnie can probably hear it just fine and doesn't need it blasting throughout the apartment. You never got to really watch television as a kid, and you wonder what the normal volume for watching things is supposed to be. 
You sip at your coffee, watching as Minnie plops herself next to Matt on the floor, going on excitedly about mysteries and different sounds. Both of them are smiling and laughing like they don't have a care in the world. 
This is what you want your life to be like, you decide. 
You want your family to be full of love and joy and you have fought so hard to get to this point. You've climbed your way out of a cold and distant household to make your own little corner in the world and right now you need to enjoy it instead of letting your mind be taken over by darkness and despair.
So, you set your coffee down and move to join your daughter and her father in front of the television, asking in a teasing voice, “So who is the blonde man again?”
tags:
@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 
@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt
@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374
@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @
Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets 
@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium 
@
two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04  @ astridstark13
519 notes · View notes
merbear25 · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
requested by @1dkneo
Hello again! I’m happy that those fics made you crave more of your man. Law is quite the catch, isn't he? 🤭 I decided to put both of these into one fic! I hope I fed your obsession well, lovely.💜💜
Lost in the heat of the moment (Law)
CW: NSFW, MDNI, fem!reader in mind but nothing specific mentioned, creampie
You and Law had an interesting relationship to say the least. There were times you would bicker with each other over little things, yet there was still a sense of care through it all. The way you’d poke fun at the other only encouraged the playful teasing.
When you added the light touches which made him blush, you couldn’t suppress the wave of satisfaction washing over you. The soft hue on his cheeks sparked desire deep within you—the want to see his flushed face above you as he plowed into you.
As the tension between you built, so did the fire in you. When his last teasing remark was delivered in a little bit of a harsher tone, the need to release your pent-up lust became too much. Excusing yourself, you hurriedly made your way to the restroom, promptly closing the door behind you.
You sat yourself on the edge of the bathtub after unbuttoning your pants. Without wasting any more time, you let your desperation flow through the motion of your fingers. With each choked sob and suppressed shudder, you didn’t want to hold back anymore.
The abrupt exit you made was curious, but the fact that you’d already been gone a while was leading Law to believe he’d taken it too far and upset you. In search of you, he heard your muffled cries trailing from the bathroom.
You were so lost in the moment of your own ecstasy that you didn’t hear his faint knock. When your eyes fluttered open to see a flustered yet stern Law standing before you, your first reaction was to snap your hand away from your throbbing arousal.
With a darkness looming behind his eyes, he smirked at you. “And here I thought that I’d gone and hurt your feelings. You naughty little thing—making me worry like that.” 
As he stepped towards you, the shock on your face was replaced with pinning. He tugged your pants off, taking a moment to admire how beautiful you looked in your lingerie—each curve being hugged immaculately. 
Seeing you in such a vulnerable state only heightened his hunger for you. Trailing kisses along where you needed him most sent shivers down your spine. He chuckled as you tried to grip at the sides of the tub to stabilize yourself.
Hoisting you up in his arms, he placed you on the counter before planting a starved kiss on your lips, allowing your tongues to tangle in the heat of the moment. With your moans seeping into his mouth, he shoved your delicates aside to focus on your aching lust.
His fingers alone were enough to have you panting and trembling. Nipping at your lower lip, his lips were now ghosting yours. He murmured, “You’re good and ready for me, aren’t you?”
Your eager nod earned you a low growl. Roughly pulling you closer to the edge of the counter, he aligned his hips with yours. With a swift and hard thrust, it was impossible to hold back your yelps and gasps. The sudden sting of pain was quickly replaced with electrifying jolts of pleasure.
With his fingers digging into your hips, you held onto him tightly, raking your fingernails down his back. His urgent grunts and your soft mewls brushed past each other’s ears and mingled with the rising heat of fervor.
Feeling you wrapped around him, each quiver of your orgasm sent him into a frenzy. Bucking into you, his own release was gaining speed, leaving his timing to pull out in a delicate balance.
“I love this so much.”
Your euphoric, soaked words snuck up on him, coaxing him to lose all sense of self. His eyes rolled back as he held you close and with a gravelly groan, he bucked a final thrust into you.
The soft gasps and heavy panting from you coming down from your erotic high nearly replaced the realization of his lapse in judgment.
He grumbled a ‘sorry’ before pulling out, allowing the hot pent-up lust you had for each other to trickle down your ass.
Leaning up to place a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth, you told him not to worry about it. Looking down at the mess you two had made, you gave him an offer he couldn’t refuse, “Would you like to join me in the shower? After all, we did just make a mess of ourselves.”
253 notes · View notes
stellarbit · 6 months ago
Text
Devotee
Tumblr media
Word Count: 3.8k Pairing: Crosshair x fem!Imperial Warnings: NSFW smut with little plot, piv, creampie, oral Summary: You joined the imperial army because of CF 99. They trained you as a freedom fighter and you hadn't stopped thinking of Crosshair since. He'd yet to come across someone who looked at him like you did, and he wants more
Crosshair never substantially interacted with civilians before the Empire. In just one week, he transitioned from dealing with those outside his squad on a need-to-know basis, to leading and training not just regular clones, but also regular people.
It was dismal work that, to him, proved nothing more than his superiority over the majority. Still, there were those who looked down on him for being a clone. Not that it mattered. They were of no significance to Crosshair, it only showed their lack of vision and poor taste.
However, when you came under his command, the opinion of another became of some interest to him.
As a new recruit in a promising class of soldiers, you were part of the elite he was tasked to train between assignments. Among your cohorts, you stood the straightest—rigid as a board, chin raised, eyes fixed forward. It caught Crosshair’s attention in the wrong way.
Walking the lines of you, he stopped in front of you and turned his hawkish gaze on you. Under the weight of his stare, your eyes wavered from their focus.
 In a low, annoyed tone, he challenged, "Something on your mind?"
You hastily shook your head, sealing your lips tightly to maintain composure.
Crosshair took your silence as insubordination. His voice sharpened, "You answer when spoken to by a superior officer."
You responded promptly this time, "No."
“No…?” Crosshair pressed, dragging the etiquette out of you.
You swallowed, willing yourself to relax and offered him a subtle smile. "No, sir."
Crosshair turned to face you fully, his expression tightened with displeasure. He heard attitude in your voice and with it the opportunity to let off some steam.
“Congratulations. You earned yourself an extra hour of training today.” His crisp tone fixed your posture, forcing your eyes forward again.
With a sharp nod, and a dry mouth, you squared your shoulders. “Yes, sir.” He made an annoyed noise and walked on. You’d spent too long planning your first interaction with him for it to have gone that poorly. The worst of it was that you didn’t even know how it managed to go that poorly.
Despite that, it was your first training session under Crosshair’s leadership and you were going to make the best of it. The exercises were more intense than you’d experienced since the Clone Wars. But you had experienced it before.
By the session's end, you still had enough energy to spare. Training to be the best and serving with the best was your ultimate goal. Disappointing Crosshair on your first day was not an option.
The other soldiers filed out, some muttering snide comments. Your instinct was to grab them by their hair but you stood determined to impress. Keeping your composure was crucial; losing it would only show weakness.Once the doors closed and you were left alone with Crosshair, all you could think to do was stand at attention, silently waiting his next command.
Crosshair took slow deliberate steps towards you. He’d been planning this all morning. Using you as a punching bag was going to serve two purposes. keeping the others in line and venting the rage that was consuming him—not just the condescension from the regs but also his fresh frustration with his brothers.
He halted a few paces away, his voice icy. "Anything to say, or is speaking to a clone beneath you?"
Your composure instantly vanished, head whipping to face him. “Absolutely not!” You protested.
"No?" Crosshair began to circle you like a predator assessing its prey. "Then you’re insubordinate." Having once embodied insubordination himself, he recognized it well and had no tolerance for it.
"Insubordinate?" you repeated, shocked. Your mouth opened and closed, searching for the right words. "Sir," you scoffed, tracking his movements, "I think you’re misunderstanding."
A cruel smile flickered across his lips, his eyes challenging you to further provoke him. He paused while still in front of you, taking two long, intimidating steps closer. "Are you questioning me?"
The severity of the situation was beginning to dawn on you. In a sudden panic, you turned towards him, your hands raised in a gesture of surrender. Your words tumbled out in a rush, "No, no! I'm not trying to— I mean, I didn’t mean to—" As his smile twisted into a snarl, you blurted out, driven by desperation, "I'm here because of you.."
Once the words were out, you wondered why you had been so fearful of expressing them in the first place. There was a pride swelling in your chest at the admission, genuine satisfaction in declaring it aloud. His expression didn’t change, but he fell silent,  waiting for you to continue.
You slowly lowered your hands, clearing your throat before adding, "Your squad helped retake my city from the Separatists. I was among the freedom fighters you aided." As you spoke, you watched his features soften, the simmering rage cooling into something more reflective. "I enlisted because of you and your squad. I want to help people the way you helped us. There were rumors about clones leading the best of us and here I am.
"In the Mid Rim?" His voice was a low murmur, recognition flickering in his eyes. You nodded, a spark of hope lighting up your face as he pieced the memory together.
Crosshair scrutinized you, shifting his stance slightly. Your eyes were wide, not with fear or challenge, but with something he hadn't expected—admiration. The smile on your lips wasn't mockery but genuine, warm respect.
You fidgeted under his gaze; it wasn’t a seething stare-down but a thorough inspection. The sensation of his eyes on you ignited a warmth in your stomach that quickly spread throughout your body. His focus intensified, sending heat creeping up your neck and flushing your cheeks.
With muscle memory, Crosshair plucked a toothpick from a compartment on his forearm, stepping closer as he placed it between his teeth. His expression, previously tight with anger, now relaxed into a scoff. "You came here because of me?" he asked incredulously.
“Yes.”
Crosshair rolled his head to one side, pulling out the toothpick to point at you. “You were an archer.”
A giddy flutter ran through you. “I was.” You didn’t think he would remember you. “Actually you showed me-”
"How to ricochet a shot," he finished for you. He all but forgot that mission—it had been a relatively straightforward one for Clone Force 99—but he did recall your group. Your enthusiasm back then had been noticeable.
Your squirming and the flush of your cheeks didn’t escape him.
“Well then,” Crosshair drawled, stepping away and easing the pressure off of you. When you visibly relaxed, he continued, “Then let’s see how good of a student you turned out to be.”
When the extra hour was up, you’d barely broken a sweat and your shooting accuracy rounded out to crisp 93%, Crosshair had to admit - he was impressed.
While you wracked up your training blaster, Crosshair felt something more than being impressed. He toggled through what it could be, almost settling on approval, until you faced him again.
You were smiling at him and whatever it was it didn’t matter anymore. He just wanted more of it.
From that point on, whenever his duties allowed, you had the privilege of receiving Crosshair's exclusive tutelage. He had intended to make your training a form of punishment, and perhaps to others it might have felt that way. But you clung to his every command, turning it into something different for both of you. It turned out there was more than one way to let off steam because Crosshair always felt lighter after your sessions.
At some point he even found himself looking for you in hallways. When the day came that he spotted you and you kept your attention forward, with not a glance his way, his approval soured to annoyance.
Over dinner, he thought about what that meant for your next training session. He was barely a bite into his solitary meal when a tray clattered down in front of him. Mid-bite he glanced over his fork to find you out of uniform and, again, smiling at him.
Swallowing his bite, Crosshair sat his utensil down to ask, “Why are you here?” His tone was more cautious than curious.
You settled into your seat and lightly shrugged, “I saw you headed this way and I’ve been trying to catch you alone.” You gave him a wink, adding, “Trust me, I see you more than you see me.”
Crosshair studied you for a moment, his sharp gaze softening slightly. “Is that so?” he asked, half-joking yet intrigued by your boldness
.Your eyebrows bounced as you quickly replied, “I followed you into the military. You don’t think I’d follow you to the cantine?”
There it was again—your unabashed admiration for him. That unfamiliar, stirring feeling returned, churning something inside him. Crosshair was momentarily taken aback, reveling in the pleasure of this new sensation.
You hummed at him, snapping him back to reality. He blinked, then chuckled—a rare sound from him. “How shameless,” he remarked.
Laughing as you took a bite, you managed to say, “Coming from you?” Setting your utensil down you leaned forward. “I’ve seen you in battle, you pose when you shoot and you and I both know it.”
He stopped mid-bite, slowly lowering the fork with a little smirk. Crosshair forgot what it felt like to banter or be lighthearted. It spurred that feeling inside him.
“If that’s where your focus was in battle, no wonder the mission took so long.” He said in a teasing tone.
Pressing a hand against your chest you laughed innocently, “I was just watching your back.” No matter how you tried, you couldn’t tuck your smile away.
The Clone Wars had been grueling. Imperial boot camp less so, but still a challenge in conformity. You did it all for the chance to be trained again by Clone Force 99. To do for the Galaxy what they’d done for you. Even one session would have made it all worth it. This unfettered attention was beyond what you imagined.w1
“What is your schedule after this?” Crosshair’s question brought you back to focus.
You shrugged, frowning in thought, “Just headed back to my barracks.” You couldn’t resist pushing him. Daring a flirtatious tone you asked,“Why? Trying to catch me alone?”
Crosshair stood, tilting his head back with a lazy smile. “Something like that.” The low tone of his voice sent a chill down your spine. 
“Let’s go.” He said as he waved you on and he left the table.
“Go where?”
“My barracks.” Crosshair said just loud enough for others to hear.
You didn’t hesitate to abandon your tray, nearly tripping to get around the table and catch up.
As you walked, Crosshair found himself discussing small, inconsequential details of training schedules and mission outlines - things that, without his brothers, he’d keep to himself..
"You're different from the rest," Crosshair finally admitted, his voice low as if confessing a secret.
You met his gaze, your expression serious. “I’ll take that as a compliment, because so are you.," you responded earnestly. ”So thank you.”
You could’ve swore you saw his step falter, but regardless in a few more steps you made it to his barracks.
Crosshair let you cross the threshold first, giving him the chance to watch you peruse his space. The room was devoid of life, his new cohorts adhering to strict barracks regulations. Your buzzing about brought a warmth to the space. 
After circling the room, clearly in awe of being in the barracks of the men you so admired, you paused at a rectangular table in the center. Running your finger along its edge, you seemed lost in thoughts of what it must have been like when the entire squad was together. The placement of a rifle nearby hinted at which bunk was his.
Leaning back against the table, you took a deep, satisfied breath. This moment, here in this space, might have been the happiest you’d ever felt. Resting on one hand, you turned to face Crosshair, your expression radiantly beaming.
You were by no means a soft person, if anything he would mark you as fierce. Strong, resilient, and fierce.
And, perhaps his favorite, loyal.
In a few slow strides, Crosshair met you at the table just as you perched yourself on top of it. He scoured your face, and while he wouldn’t call you soft it’s exactly what you made him feel. The feeling inside him grew feverish for more of you.
Crosshair leaned into your space, hands gripping the table on either side of your legs. He couldn’t get enough of the way you looked at him. Admiration, adoration, and Crosshair knew there was attraction. The longer he watched you heat through him and he started pressing his pants.
“Are you enjoying training?” To anyone else he may have sounded imposing, but you saw beyond that. He was teasing you and pinning you with his full attention. The last and only time he’d been this close to you he’d been wrapping his arms around you to show you proper shooting form. And just like the last time, the very scent of him made your core ache.
“Yes.” Your smile squirmed, refusing to go away. You gave them to him so often and freely and still Crosshair wanted more.
He lost all tolerance for the space between you and slipped his right hand down the length of your thigh until he angled it out of his way. “Then I must not be doing a good job.”
The sudden advance took your breath away, but quickly and hushed, you responded, “That’s not true. There’s no one better than you.” Your eagerness got the better of you as you hung a hand on his bicep. A few stars came to your eyes as you added, “You’re exactly what I thought you’d be.”
“And what’s that?” He tilted his head, eyes falling to your lips for only a second.
“The best of us.” You said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
His eyes flared with a sharp inhale. When had anyone looked at him like you were? You were so devoted to him and, beyond that, he suspected you were desperate for him. In one motion he slid his fingers under your thighs, wedged himself between your legs, and pulled you against him. A small noise left you and Crosshair purred, “Am I now?”
Steadying yourself with a grip on his shoulder, you managed a little scoff,  “Oh, don’t act like you don’t know that.”
Crosshair raised an eyebrow with a small smile, “Tell me anyways.”
For awhile you thought you’d been deluding yourself that Crosshair at least found you attractive. Now that you had concrete proof, you felt frantic for him. 
“You’re-” you started, interrupted as he stepped even closer. Crosshair pulled one leg to wrap around him, encouraging you as you continued on a gasp, “The epitome of precision and skill” 
Crosshair’s hips rolled into you on their own, suddenly very fervid to show you what you did to him.
Feeling him rock hard against you, you cursed under your breath. Slowly, you slid a leg to hook behind him. “Crosshair.” His name felt heavy on your tongue.
He only hummed in response and before you could second guess yourself you confessed, “I’ve wanted you since the moment I met you.” You took a deep breath and pulled him in. “And I want you right now.”
He snaked a hand behind your neck and angled you towards him. “I know you do.” His voice was strained, grunting against the urge to jump you and the pressure between you. “And I think I’ll have you.” His tone sent a thrill through you all the way to your core.
In a burst of motion, you tugged him against you and pulled him back by the neck. You moved your lips against his as you both fell back onto the table, Crosshair laying across you. His cock dug into you as your hips ground together. After a moment of shock, Crosshair’s eyes fluttered shut and he moved to consume you.
With a hand under your hip, Crosshair pulled you up just enough to give him the space to pull down his pants. They fell to the floor and his hand met yours at the hem of your pants. You both fumbled with the clasps and worked to wiggle you out of them. Simultaneously you stripped off your shirt, tossing them aside and grabbing each other’s faces. 
Crosshair maintained the kiss while pulling you to the edge of the table, his fingers sliding between your legs to your slit. He found you completely slick, feeling like velvet as he dipped his finger into you.
He moaned into your kiss at the feeling of you so wet for him.
His touch strummed you, pushing you into a feverish frenzy. “Crosshair.” You whined through kisses. Again, he only responded with a hum. You pulled away, panting and reaching between you two.
You found the length of him and gave him a few pumps that he leaned into.
“I need you.” Your words were another confession, an invitation, and a plea.
Crosshair’s huffed a laugh as he removed his fingers. Two were glistening with your juices with a small strand of you hanging between them. He brought his fingers to his open mouth, sucking the taste of you off his fingers.
Slipping them off his tongue, he directed them right into your mouth. The taste of you on him sent your eyes rolling back only for a moment until you felt him slip inside you.
The sudden fullness of him jolted you up right, your hands dropping to his hips. You pulled him against you in time with his rhythm. You both needed him to be deeper.
You squirmed around him, whining as he hastened his pace. The sounds of your body working against each other only heated the room. His moans stood out the most to you, stoking the growing ache inside you.
Not once did he look away from you. You were stunning as you writhed before him, cradling your hips against his. And never did you look up at him with anything other than a lopsided smile.
“Say it again,” He panted, relentlessly driving the full length of him into you.
There was no question as to what he wanted. “I need you, Crosshair.”
As soon as the words were out, his mouth was on yours. He groaned against you, filling you him in a smooth, long thrust. Pulling back just enough that his lips brushed yours, he ordered, “Get up and turn around.”
In perfect tandem, he slid out of you and you slid from the table. You quickly bent yourself over the table for him and he didn’t make you wait.
Crosshair leaned over you, putting one hand between your legs and the other on your face. He lifted your chin, aiming your gaze to the viewport in front of you. The pitch black night made a black mirror out of the glass and your reflection, dizzy and lost in lust, stared back at you. 
Your eyes moved to Crosshair’s. The moment your eyes met his in the reflection, his cock met your folds and pushed right through you. He held you in place as he fucked you, his hand just out of view as he made stroked your clit. 
“Is this what you came here for?” His voice reverberated from his chest into your back.
Had your fantasies played into your journey to Kamino? ”Yes.” The affirmation came out a happy trill.
Crosshair moved your head so that his mouth reached your ear. “You know what you are?” Every word that came from him pushed you further to melt around him.
“Tell me.” You sobbed. The kiss he pressed against your ear ended with a light bite, pulling a whimper from you.
“Mine.”
That was it. One single word and you were crying his name. Your orgasm hit and a moment later Crosshair sheathed himself deep within you. His cock swelled, throbbing and cumming in waves until it leaked out around him.
You slumped against the table, both exhausted and elated, but Crosshair gave you no time to rest. He pulled out of you and dropped to his knees, watching as his cum spilled out of you. After a few drips, Crosshair spread you with his thumbs and gave you a long lick. He started at your clit and ran his tongue all the way up.
“Crosshair!” His name was a mumbled moan from you. “You can’t.”
From his knees, Crosshair turned you around to stand before him. “Too late.” He crooned before diving back into you. His licking and sucking made it hard to stand. When he put two fingers in you and started curling them inside you, another, almost painful, ache bloomed in you. You were so sensitive and his mouth was already bringing you to a second release
You dared look down, not expecting to see his brown eyes looking up at you. With your full attention; Crosshair hummed into you and focused his fingers on a soft spot inside you. The stimulation struck something more in you. Warm pressure pooled between your legs while you reached the brink of release.
“If you keep that up I’m going to-”
You didn’t need to tell him, he knew you were close by the way you convulsed on his fingers and the noises you made. He rocked his fingers harder into you and as his mouth focused on your clit. Impatience took hold of Crosshair and in his drive to see what more you could show him he took your clit into his mouth. He sucked on you, swelling your bundle of nerves so much that when he let his teeth lightly graze you, your entire body shuddered.
The pressure that built around his fingers snapped and you came around him. His fingers didn’t stop though and they kept playing you until your own cum coated his hands. You couldn’t stop the shakes hitting you or the way the floor became wet from you.
Only when you were on the verge of collapsing did Crosshair let you go. You barely caught yourself, elbows catching the edge of the table as your legs gave way. 
Drained in every way you huffed and puffed with a barely there smile. “That was-”
“Have you ever came like that?”
You didn’t have to look at the small puddle you left to know what he was referring to. Getting your feet back underneath you, you admitted. “Never.”
Crosshair got to his feet, helping you straighten out as he went. “Good.” Tipping your chin up he returned one of your smiles. “Let’s keep it that way.”
Your knees went weak again as you said, “Sir, yes sir.”
159 notes · View notes
nariism · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
adamantine dreams — h. aki
one bed + "wait, don't pull away... not yet."
synopsis. there was a time before you when aki found it hard to sleep. call it sleep debt or whatever, but he's going to squeeze every ounce of rest he can get from his body now.
wc. ~1.2k
— for @naosaki 🫶 i love you | event masterlist ✉️
Tumblr media
He used to have nightmares.
They started when he was young and naive, back when he felt like the world could fit into the palm of his hand and the grief he sheltered could flatten armies of enemies.
Sleep did not come easily to Hayakawa Aki.
He was a dead man walking. A corpse with tar black lungs and nothing left to lose. As much as he willingly sacrificed, and as much as he tried to put on a brave face, death petrified him. He spent most nights tossing and turning, eluded by rest leaving him in worsening condition by the day.
There was nothing in the world he wanted to do more than to close his eyes and have the world be still. To sleep without jolting awake at even the tiniest creaks of the floorboards. To be able to be at peace without the sound of a gunshot seared into his memory.
Aki had given up on such a dream many, many years ago.
Then you came along, declared that you were bunking with him while he blankly stared at his single bed in his single room in his apartment that was eerily quiet considering his horribly rowdy roommates, then promptly crawled under the blanket and fell asleep.
He had three choices that day. One, kick you out and risk being reprimanded by Makima herself, which, honestly, sounded the most appealing at the time. Two, sleep on the hardwood floor and develop back pains that would make him devil food by the end of the day. Or three, his least favourite but most logically sound option: sleep in the bed, pressed up against the wall and putting as much distance between your bodies as possible.
And, well. The rest is history.
He discovered a different type of devil wandering the earth. It had warm skin and a cute smile and fit into his arms as if it were shaped from the same clay of which he emerged.
It had no ill intent and sought not the smell of human fear, but the scent of cigarettes and black coffee.
You were a certain kind of evil he couldn't fight, no matter how much he wanted to try. His time was running thin—sand trickling through an hourglass with no signs of stopping.
Aki was hurtling toward his death at a record pace.
He thought he had made peace with that—with the fact that he would never be able to sleep like a little boy again, safe and sound. He was aware that his life was a race against the contracts he had forged years ago, back when he thought devil hunting was the only salvation in the sick world he lived in.
If he could take them all back, he would.
There was nothing he could do now but close his eyes and pretend the days weren't whirring by. He had heard as a child that time flies with the one you love, and he scoffed at such a notion once upon a time.
He would give it all up. Heart, soul, his own flesh if he could stop time just to spend this moment with you for an eternity.
Your eyes flutter open at the sound of your alarm. Aki has long since awoken, groggy but well-rested.
He was always the first one awake. While his mind has been blissfully quieter recently, his body had an awful tendency to jerk into consciousness anyways. He watches your rousing expression carefully, attempting to freeze time itself in the form of a memory.
Warm sunlight pools against your body, swimming in his navy blue sheets. Skin to skin, smile to smile, you kiss him slow and sure—a gesture he has grown familiar with over the past year since you showed up.
"Morning," you yawn, arm draping over his body and a hand slowly trailing from his chest to his neck then finally settling on his cheek.
"You have morning breath." He tells you bluntly, flustered as always.
You snort softly, feigning offense rather poorly. "As if your breath smells like roses right now?"
"Better than yours," he refutes. His fingers deftly squeeze yours until you release his face. You huff dramatically, snatching the blankets with you as you forcefully roll over in bed.
"Fine then. Guess I'll get on with my day without bothering you with my morning breath."
His hand shoots out to capture your wrist as you shuffle out of your side of the bed. Yanking you back, he smothers you under his weight to prevent you from escaping.
"Don't go. Not yet."
"Aki," you laugh while trying to wriggle away to no avail. "I have to go to work."
"Stay home today," he complains, burying his face into your hair so you can't see how absolutely red he's gotten.
"I can't!" You giggle. You start squirming again so he can release you. He does this time, towering over you with some sort of narrowed expression.
"Just stay a little longer," he murmurs, swooping back down to press his lips to your forehead. "Stay."
It's starting to sound more like a demand than a request, so you surrender. Your arms open wide again and he collapses back onto you with a thump.
"You're crushing me," you wheeze from beneath. He shakes his head.
"Deal with it."
"You're seriously going to go back to sleep like this?!"
"Not my fault you make it so easy to fall asleep."
"Didn't know I bored you to death like that," you tease, purposefully dodging the real meaning behind his words because, well, he's equally talented at flustering you.
There was a time before you when Aki found it hard to sleep, tormented by the visions of his entire childhood vanishing in a fraction of a second. It was those nights that were especially unbearable, never relieving him from his painful existence and forcing him to listen to the explosion of guns in his ears over and over again.
Call it sleep debt or whatever, but he's going to squeeze every ounce of rest he can get from his body now.
"You're heavy," you whine one last time for good measure. He doesn't do anything but smile against your skin, savouring every second of your body under his.
Despite your complaining, your hands tangle into his hair almost instantly and you tug him just a bit closer, heart to heart.
Sleep washes over him. You really must have been a devil in disguise, offering up the most despicable evil of all: love.
He knew his time was short. He knew that love would only make it hurt all the more.
But your fingers are combing through his hair and he can feel the gentle rumble of your voice in your chest as you tell him your plans for the day just as his eyes start to feel heavy.
There's a weakness you expose in him, a gap leftover from his lonely childhood yearning for companionship. You fill in all the missing pieces—complete him in a way that revenge and hatred could not.
So he figures, maybe it would be okay to be selfish and just close his eyes right now. Be loved. Sleep and dream of nothing but a future he could never have with you.
Tumblr media
© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
549 notes · View notes