#bullshit blanket declarations

[itsawritblr]

Typical Creative Writing teacher:

[witherby]

The Littlest Wayne

Or, the one where Bruce brings home a baby, and your adorable little face wins the heart of your new, big brothers.

Platonic!Reader and Batfam

"Bruce."

"Don't freak out."

"Bruce."

"You're freaking out. I can see it in your eyes, but don't do it."

"This is a problem. This is an actual addiction and you need help."

"You're overreacting. I need everyone to take a deep breath, in and out, and not freak out."

Dick crossed his arms and glared at his father, narrowed eyes shifting up and down in an extremely pointed manner. Tim and Jason were wearing similar expressions, looking either at Bruce himself or the bundle in his arms.

Damian walked across the room and peered down at the bundle, expressionless.

"Father, come on."

Bruce carefully brushed the edge of the blanket away from your face. You scrunched your tiny nose, disturbed, then settled back down without issue. The billionaire had found you abandoned outside the garage doors of the Gotham Fire Station, left there by some overwhelmed mother no doubt. Unfortunately, that particular station was closed on the weekends, because of course this damned city couldn't staff a fire station 24/7, and if he hadn't found you on patrol, you would have frozen to death on the ground.

"They were in danger!" Bruce insisted firmly, but kept his voice soft so as not to frighten you. "Look — they don't have black hair or blue eyes. You can tell I didn't do it on purpose."

"Why not take the baby to the GCPD, then? Or a hospital?" Jason piped up, unamused. "B, cut the bullshit. You can't keep 'em."

"I brought them here first to ensure they didn't need any immediate medical attention."

"Which is something a hospital could do," Tim said.

"An overcrowded and understaffed hospital, that doesn't have the time to spare to give them direct and undivided attention?" Bruce argued. "The med ward in the Cave is just as efficient as an emergency room, if not more so."

"And the fact that you aren't down there with the baby — the baby you are not keeping," Dick chimed in, holding out his arms for you, "means that they're perfectly fine and can be transported safely somewhere else."

"They're sleeping right now," Bruce said, completely deadpan, and made no move to relinquish his hold over you. "We can't put them in a noisy car and upset them. We can drop the baby off in the morning."

"He's getting dangerously attached," Dick hissed to his brothers. "We need the big guns."

"I'll alert Pennyworth," Damian declared, already ducking out of the room. Bruce scowled, aware the battle was quickly turning against his favor. But he could play dirty, too.

He dropped his shoulders and the furrow of his brow turned slightly down, weary and forlorn. He stopped looking at his boys and instead studied all your tiny features, tracing a finger down the bridge of your nose, gently across your lashes, and over your plump little cheeks. You were absolutely adorable. He was already thinking of names for you in his mind.

"You know, I never got to raise any of you from infancy," he stated, not in any pointed manner, just as objective fact. Just quietly enough that they could think Bruce hadn't meant to say it out loud. "Not that I would've wanted to steal that experience from your birth parents. I would never. But...I don't even know what Damian looked like when he was this small."

Dick's eye twitched. The glare was still in place, but his frown was less severe. One down.

"I'm sorry, boys," he sighed, acting as though he were giving in. "The Mission has taken up so much of my time, it's hard not to wonder what I would have been like as a normal father. Just the formative things, like... like changing diapers, and doing Tummy Time, and helping you guys learn to walk."

Tim's eyes grew distant, likely thinking of his own parents and the loneliness he felt growing up in Drake Manor all by himself. He was no doubt recalling how much he wished his mom or dad had been around, to play or to talk to or just to physically be there with him, instead of off traveling the world and leaving him behind to fend for himself.

Two down.

But Jason, despite all that had happened over the years, despite the strain on his relationship with Bruce, had always been the most emotional of his children. He would not be hard to win over.

"This would be a mistake," Bruce stated, looking his second oldest right in the eyes. "They'd be happier somewhere else, somewhere normal. Maybe...maybe one of you could hold them and I can go start the car? I can feel myself starting to get attached, and that's not fair to you, boys. I didn't mean to stress you all out. I wasn't thinking."

Jason huffed, lowering his feet from where they'd been propped up on the coffee table, and stood from the couch to come take you from Bruce. His arms carefully held you to his broad chest, your weight settling against him pleasantly.

He made the mistake of watching you scrunch your face and whine softly, itty bitty hands poking out from your blanket and gripping onto his shirt sleeve with all the strength your small body could muster.

Jason's expression dropped immediately, and he practically melted as he tucked you closer.

Hook. Line. Sinker.

Damian and Alfred walked into the living room to find Bruce, Jason, Dick, and Tim all cooing and fawning over you, and the war was lost.

Welcome home, Littlest Wayne.

[fatkish]

Alpha Sanemi x Omega Reader HC’s

When he first heard that an omega survived and passed final selection, he thought is was bullshit. That was until he met you briefly at the Kamado siblings trial

To say your first impression of him was bad, is an understatement. You’re first thought of him was that he was an ass and that’s putting it nicely

You kept him from getting his hands on Nezuko’s box and refused to let him get near her box

This was incredibly frustrating to him, why couldn’t you see just how dangerous demons were, especially for someone like you. He’s a Marechi, he knows demons can’t resist taking a bite out of him, which means that it’s even worse for you since you’re an omega

He growled and nearly lunged at you when you cut yourself and released your scent to prove that Nezuko wouldn’t attack anyone. Seeing you cut your arm and hold it out in front of the demon sister to tempt her was difficult for him to watch

When he’s first introduced to you during the Hashira meeting, he’s very rude and offensive despite Ubuyashiki’s warning

He isn’t that new to Omegas since one of his late younger siblings was an omega. So he knows typical omega behaviors

As much as he would hate to admit it, he did think you smelled good despite trying to hide your scent

This abrasive man had no intention of being a ‘babysitter’ for you. If you’re strong then that’s that, and if you’re weak then so be it

I believe he’d smell like pine and sweet musk with a hint of lemon

While he may be very rude and abrasive, when Ubuyashiki informed him that you would be training with each pillar, he begrudgingly accepted it at the request of the master

Needless to say, he was the last one to train you

His training was harsh and you got hurt often but you still persisted and didn’t give in no matter how many times you were beaten

Despite your use of nunchucks, Sanemi was surprised to see how well you fought with a regular blade

Everyday, you’d wake up and be ready to challenge him that day, you declared that you were gonna beat him before your two weeks were over, you never did

He knows that omegas build nests and brought you some bedding to build one with. He was surprised when you asked if he wanted to join you in your finished nest

Although he would never admit it out loud, he quickly developed a soft spot for you, which is why he’s so harsh with you, he wants you to give up and live a normal life

This man loves your cooking and will never admit it. When you found out he likes Ohagi, you made him plenty of it

You enjoyed cooking for him since he’s the most calm when he’s eating. He always made sure that you got enough to eat and always waited for you to sit down and eat before he started eating

Sanemi left a bunch of blankets in your room for you to make a nest out of, though he’d never admit to doing so

While you’d sleep in your nest, this boy would watch you, smiling fondly as he remembered his younger sibling that was an omega, he’d stroke your head as you would purr

He’d always be watching you train from a distance and discreetly so you wouldn’t notice. He’d be making sure you didn’t get hurt too much and would yell at you if you messed up

Secretly, this boy dreamt of a life with you, him being your mate and you having his pups, he dreamt of providing for you and his family you both would make

When the time came for you to return to regular work, he was worried when you left, he had a bad feeling about your mission on the Mugen Train, but he knew Rengoku would be there so there’s no need to worry, he’d protect you

Tag list: @imagineshazamlokimight

[the-offside-rule]

Max Verstappen (Red Bull Racing) - Go To Sleep

Requested: yes

Prompt: 32) "I could kiss your lips all day."

Warnings: none, just quite short

The dimmed lights blurred as Max Verstappen stumbled slightly on the carpet of the hotel, his arm wrapped around Y/n for support. They had just left a lively celebration, and Max's cheerful laughter echoed through the night. "You know, Y/n, you're like the best thing that's ever happened to me." Max declared with a drunken grin, his words slightly slurred. Y/n chuckled. "I think you've had a bit too much to drink, Max." Y/n whispered, careful as to not wake their neighbours. "No, I'm serious!" Max insisted, his eyes sparkling. "You're beautiful, smart, and you put up with my bullshit. What more could a guy ask for?" Y/n couldn't help but smile at Max's intoxicated sincerity. "Well, I guess I'm pretty lucky too." Max nodded. "Yeah. Oh, and your boobs?" He paused as they reached the door. "They're like... like the best thing ever." Max fumbled with the keycard, finally managing to open the door.

Once inside, Max collapsed onto the bed with an exaggerated sigh, pulling Y/n down beside him. She gently ran her fingers through his hair, enjoying the warmth of his embrace. "You're so sweet, Max." She murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "You're amazing." He whispered, his lips now peppering kisses all over her face. "Max, come on. We should get to sleep." Y/n whispered. "I know, I just... I need to tell you how much I love you." Max slurred, his eyes filled with sincerity. Y/n smiled, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "I love you too, Max. Even when you're a little... tipsy." Max sighed contently as his eyes closed. "You're so warm. Like a human blanket. I could stay like this forever." Y/n chuckled, feeling the warmth of his embrace. "I'm glad you're comfortable, babe." She said, finding herself growing tired now too. "Your lips, Y/n. They're like, the softest thing I've ever felt. I could kiss them all day, and it still wouldn't be enough." Y/n laughed, finding Max's drunken affection utterly endearing. "You're quite the charmer, even when you've had a few too many." Max grinned mischievously. "Maybe I should get drunk more often then. It brings out the poet in me."

"Or maybe, we should get you some water and let you sober up a bit." But Max was having none of it. Instead, he pulled Y/n closer, his lips finding hers with a gentle insistence. "I mean it, Y/n. Your lips are like... magic. I could do this forever." Max grinned lazily, his eyes half-closed. "And I know what you're going to say, but I'm not tired. I just want to cuddle with you forever." Y/n smiled as Max finally laid his head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat as it calmed him. "You're my everything, Y/n. Seriously, everything." Y/n ran her fingers through his tousled hair, smiling down at him. "And you're my slightly intoxicated, but utterly adorable, everything."

As the night drifted on, Max's words softened into contented murmurs, and soon, he was peacefully asleep, still holding onto Y/n. She watched him sleep, thinking about how even in his most inebriated state, he managed to make her feel cherished.

[peachdues]

taking a break from the endless amount of angst I’ve been working on to write a fun, light-hearted (but still filthy) one shot featuring my other husband, Levi

“I’m going to fuck him,” you declare boldly, plopping down next to your roommate where she lays, sprawled across a blanket on the campus quad.

Sasha’s head snaps toward you hard enough to give anyone whiplash. “Who?”

You smirk and nod at the figure fastidiously making his way across the green in the opposite direction from where you’ve joined your friends as they lounged between classes. “Who else?”

Part of you wishes you’d thought to fish your phone out of the bottom of your bag for the sole purpose of catching their varying reactions — from Annie’s mild disinterest to Connie’s gobsmacked disbelief — as they realize to whom you were referring

“Bullshit,” both Connie and Jean answer in unison once they’ve picked their jaws up off the ground.

Your grin only widens. “Not bullshit; it’s a promise.”

“Your TA?” Jean finally looks to you, though he can’t help but cut his eyes back to the figure as he retreats into the social sciences building and disappears from sight. “And not just any TA — Levi fucking Ackerman?”

[storm-angel989]

Vox and Val don't know how to hold babies. They get handed their newborn to get some bonding in and they're all "ok what now? I just hold it? Where do I put my hands?" Until Auntie Velvette gets sick of their bullshit and physically rearranges them into a proper baby holding position because "you don't have to hold them out so far away from you, they're not contagious" and "anything they have, you're gonna catch real soon anyway"

Ok that's my contribution for today

Hi friend, 

Oh I love this idea! My biggest struggle with this one was “where do Vox and Velvette and Valentino get a baby?” (because there is no baby store, let's be real) so it took me a while to chew on what I think is an entertaining situation. I hope you enjoy it!

<3 Mandy

Valentino didn’t hold babies. Not in life. And certainly not in death. In fact, he didn’t think the idea of children had ever been discussed in his relationship with Vox and Velvette. And when his phone rang and Asmodeus' voice called him, Vox and Velvette to his restaurant in the lust ring, the last thing he was thinking about was kids. 

“What does Ozzy want with the three of us?” Velvette asked as she watched the rolling hills of fire pass by as they jumped from ring to ring. 

“Fuck if I know,” Valentino replied as he took a drink of wine. “Any idea, Voxxy?”

“No,” Vox replied without looking up from his phone.

Velvette sighed in annoyance. “Well you two fuckers are no help.”

Both ignored her. Several minutes later, the limo pulled up outside one of the biggest restaurants in all of hell. As soon as they stepped out of the limo, they were escorted back to Asmodeous’s office.

“Who's a sweet little baby? Yes you are, yes you are!” Asmodeous’s voice floated out from behind his office doors. 

“Huh, didn’t expect him to have a caretaker kink,” Vox muttered. “Hey, ow!” 

Valentino elbowed him, hard and gave him a writhing look. 

“We don’t judge,” he said sharply. “Especially not Oz.”

“Judge what? Huh?” Fizzeroi’s voice floated as the doors opened. “Come in, dumb little…”

“Alright, that’s enough Fizz, calm down, you’ll scare the baby,” Ozzy said firmly. “Come in you three.”

The V’s exchanged glances but stepped inside. Of all of the sighs they expected to greet him, Asmodeous holding a tiny pink blanket wasn’t anywhere near the top of the list. Hell, for that matter, it wasn’t even on the list.

“Congraduation’s Valentino, you’re a father,” Asmodeous said as he stood up.

Vox and Velvette stared at Valentino in disbelief.

“That isn’t possible,” Valentino argued. “I always use protection, I…”

Azmedous stood up and walked across the room.

“In nineteen seventy three you made a deposit to a sperm bank. Upon your arrival in hell, our agents were supposed to destroy every single source of your DNA on Earth. It appears someone fucked up I mean…uhn…” he looked down at the baby, “made a mistake. This little girl is a product of that. And with her mother in heaven, she’s yours.”

“Wait, her mom died? Who was she?” Valentino demanded, taking a step back away from Asmodeus. 

“She did. And went to heaven. But as you know, unbaptized babies?” Asmodeous made a slashing motion across his throat. “Not welcome upstairs.  And upon this little one’s arrival, I went myself and personally destroyed the rest of the vial. But there is no mistaking, she’s yours. And by the contract you signed, she’s your responsibility, just like any other child who falls who has parents in hell. And I know you want to honor your contract.”

Asmeodous’s normally lighthearted voice dropped to a dangerously low tone. The fire that surrounded him perked up, and even Fizzeroli jumped from his shoulders. 

“Give me,” Velvette said quickly, stepping forward. 

Asmodeous shot Valentino and Vox a look, but carefully handed her the tiny pink bundle. 

“We’ll take her,” she declared firmly. “Valentino will honor his contract. Do you have a diaper bag, or formula or anything?”

Instantly, Asmodeous relaxed. From beneath the desk, he pulled out a pink bag and dropped it at Valentino’s feet. 

“I put a sleep spell on her, so she should stay down the entire way home,” he told them. “But she’s going to be hungry when she wakes up. Formula is in the bag, along with diapers and a few extra things.” 

“Great,” Velvette said as she looked at the pink bag with distaste. “We’ll get a more stylish one in time, come on boys.” With those words, Velvette turned and walked confidently out the door. 

“Do you think they have any idea of what they’re doing?” Fizzeroli muttered as he watched the retreating figures. 

Asmodous shrugged. “We’ll check on it in a few days.  Make sure Valentino truly does uphold his end of the contract.”

Back in the limo, Velvette carefully cradled the newborn to her chest.

“There should be a carseat,” she declared. “Vox, get out your phone. Make a list of the things we’re going to need to keep this thing alive.”

Valentino and Vox stared at her.

“What? It’s either keep it alive, or Valentino breaks his contract and Asmodeus…”

“Yeah, no I get that,” Vox interrupted. “But we, I really never took you for the motherly type.”

“Oh fuck you, I’m motherly,” Velvette snapped. “Now get the phone out and start making a list.” 

By the time they arrived back at the penthouse, the spare bedroom had been transformed into a workable nursery.

“It’s basic, but I can do the design later,” Velvette told them as he looked around.

In her arms, the baby began to fuss as she opened her eyes. 

“She’s probably hungry,” Velvette said to them as she turned and walked out to the kitchen. “One of you, hold her while I make a bottle.” 

Both stared at her in confusion. 

“No, I’ll hurt her,” Valentino confessed finally. “She’s so tiny.”

“Yeah, no. How do I hold it? What do I do?” Vox asked.

Velvette rolled her eyes. “You, Vox, look it up. Valentino, it came from you. So you, sit down on the couch. Vox, take notes.”

Valentino obediently sat down on the couch. Carefully, Velvette placed the baby in his arms and Valentino held the child out at arms length. 

“No, no not like that. Closer. She isn’t a disease, you won’t catch anything from her,” Velvette admonished. “And if she gets sick, we’re all getting it anyway, so buckle up buttercup.”

Velvette watched as he slowly inched his arms closer. Annoyance flooded through her. 

“No, you know what? Unbutton your shirt,” she snapped as she snatched the baby back. 

“Fuck you, no,” Valentino retorted. “That has nothing…I’m not…no!”

“Actually, she’s right, it’s called skin to skin,” Vox interrupted as he looked up from his phone, “we should all probably do it. It helps…with their vitals and stuff. Body temperature and heartbeat regulation. Helps them thrive.”

“And I’m pretty sure if this thing dies, Asmodous will consider it a violation of your contract in some way and kill you as well,” Velvette added.

Hesitantly, Valenitno undid his jacket and unbuttoned his black shirt. Carefully, Velvette positioned his hand under the little girl and laid her against his chest. To his surprise, it felt good- natural, almost. Carefully, he leaned back and settled the child comfortably against him.

“Good. Now don’t be alarmed if she cried,” Velvette warned. “She’s got to be hungry.”

As quickly as she could, she hurried off into the kitchen. As quickly as she could, she mixed a bottle and brought it back to Valentino.

“Here, you feed her, Vox,” she directed. 

“Oh hell no, it ain’t my kid,” Vox protested. 

 “We’re in this together, right? Otherwise the empire crumbles,” Velvette said firmly. 

The look on Vox’s face told Velvette she had won. She watched as he took off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves and unbuttoned his shirt. 

“Fine, I’m ready,” he said reluctantly.

 Carefully, Valentino handed the baby to Vox and Velvette adjusted his arms so the baby was in the correct position. She watched as he gently pressed the bottle to her lips and to Velvette’s relief, she instantly took to it. 

“She is kind of cute,” Vox admitted as she suckled frantically. “Are you hungry, little girl? She needs a name, right?” 

“Let’s call her Reader,” Valentino suggested. “It was…well, it doesn’t matter. I’m her dad, I get to name her, right Velvette?”

“Reader,” Velvette said slowly. “Yeah. I like it.” With a swish of her skirt, she turned away. “I’m going to make some design notes for the nursery. Yell for me when she’s done eating, she’ll need to be burped.”

“Great,” Vox muttered as he looked at Valentino. “That ones on you.”

“We’ll all be doing it,” Velvette yelled over her shoulders. “She’s a member of this family, we take care of each other. Period.”

[corroded-hellfire]

As You Wish - Eddie Munson x Reader, Part 3

This was a collaboration with my dear @munson-blurbs!

Summary: Eddie knows he hasn’t gone about things as he should have, so he’s determined to make things better—for everyone. You can read part two here.

Note: Thank you everyone for your kind words and hilarious messages! Seeing what you all have to say about this series truly makes my day.

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), breeding kink, spanking, oral f!receiving, I think that’s it?

Words: 10.8k

[All stories in this verse]

"I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as—”

BZZZT!

The apartment buzzer rings, startling you from your When Harry Met Sally trance. You’d nearly dropped your bowl of cookie dough ice cream. 

“I’ll answer it,” your roommate calls out, padding across the living room. You muster up a smile as a silent thanks; you just don’t have the mental energy to face another human being right now. 

“Who is it?” Jess asks, speaking into the intercom on the wall. 

“It’s me. Um, it’s Eddie.” His voice makes your stomach drop into your feet as you violently shake your head no. You’d filled Jess in on what had happened over the weekend, and she certainly wasn’t on Eddie’s side. 

Sure enough, a scowl crosses her face. “Why don’t you fuck off, Eddie?” she sneers. 

“Yeah, so, I’ll do that,” he mumbles, “but I just need to drop something off. Please.” He sounds so pathetic. Good. 

Jess looks over at you for your reaction. “I don’t want anything from him,” you mutter, snuggling deeper into your fuzzy blanket. “Tell him to go away.”

She nods, pressing on the intercom again. “Denied.” She starts to walk away, but Eddie’s pleas stop her in her tracks. 

“Look, I know I fucked up big time. And I’m so sorry. I never should have dragged her into this; gotten her caught up in my bullshit. I was…I was a coward, okay? A goddamn coward. But I’m done avoiding fixing my mistakes. Because when I tried to run from my problems, I hurt the best girl I know. And I want—need her to know that I’ll prove how much she means to me, if she’ll let me.”

Jess turns to you, her eyes wide and slightly misty, obviously moved by Eddie’s words. She puts her hand over her heart and inclines her head towards you, silently asking if you’ve changed your mind. And it’s tempting. How many times did you fantasize about Eddie making some big dramatic declaration about how much he cares for you? But you’re scared. Scared this is some sort of false hope. That you’ll let yourself be ensnared by his spell and let yourself get hurt again and again. You’ve never had fear like this before and it’s as if your body and mind just want to shut down.

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “I-I don’t want to see him.” 

Now Jess goes from moved to annoyed. She plants her hands on her hips and takes a few steps closer to where you’re curled up on the old floral couch. “Are you kidding me right now? I’ve listened to you sing the praises of this man for a year now. How sweet and kind and wonderful he is. Listened to you say over and over again how much you love him and how if you had him, you’d never take him for granted like his crazy bitch of a wife does.” She flings her hand toward the front door. “Well? He’s here. Trying to apologize for what he’s put you through. You even said yourself when you came home crying the other day that you know he cares about you. So why don’t you at least hear him out?” 

“I don’t want to see him,” you say in a small voice. Sniffling, you shrug your shoulders. “You’ve never seen his eyes.” You shake your head, gaze dropping to your lap. “He has this puppy dog look about him and I know if I see it, I’ll cave no matter what he says.”

“So, go in your room,” Jess says. “I’ll let him up, drop whatever he wants to drop off, let him say his peace. And you can just listen.”

Heaving a sigh, you snatch up the remote and press the pause button. Tossing the blanket from your lap, you stand and make the few steps into your room and shut the door. Jess scurries back over to the intercom, hoping he hasn’t left yet.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah! Yeah, still here.” The hope is clear in his voice as he realizes he hasn’t been ignored completely. 

“Come on up.”

Eddie wastes no time, pulling the door open as soon as Jess presses the button, taking the stairs two at a time and making his way to apartment 217. The sound of his knuckles rapping on the door reaches you in your bedroom and you wrap your arms around your body, mentally preparing yourself to listen to what he has to say. 

“She’s in her room,” you hear Jess tell him. “You can talk through the door. And what have you got to drop off?”

There’s silence except for Eddie’s footsteps and the curiosity of what he’s brought burns in your brain. As his footsteps come right up to the other side of your door, there’s a buzzing in your stomach.

“C-Can you hear me?” Eddie asks.

“Yes,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut. Just the sound of his voice so near has you longing to throw the door open and jump into his arms. You’ve never felt as safe in your life as you did when he was hugging you. 

“I, um.” Eddie clears his throat. “I’m so sorry, sweethea—I’m sorry. I fucked up big time. What are you…” Eddie trails off and your eyebrows pinch in concern. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Jess says, loudly enough that you know she’s standing next to Eddie. “But you should read this.” There’s a slide against the hardwood of your floor and you look down to see a little white rectangle slip under your door. It’s a business card, you realize as you pick it up. 

Carl Hampton, Esquire

Divorce Attorney

“Turn it over,” Jess says. 

It’s not enough for you to be mine, so I’m taking the first step towards being yours - Eddie

The tears start immediately. Even as you read the note in Eddie’s scrawling handwriting over and over again, your vision goes a little bit blurrier each time. Your hand trembles as you hold the card, the other going up to cover your mouth. Even though you think you’ve been quiet as your crying grows to sobs, you must be louder than you realize.

“Okay, she’s crying,” Eddie says, clearly talking to Jess. 

“Let me go in,” Jess says, but when she cracks the door open you catch sight of Eddie. He’s distorted and fuzzy through your tears, but you’d know that mass of curls anywhere. Jess has just enough time to jump out of the way as you launch yourself into his arms, not sure if this means you forgive him or not, but just knowing you need to be held by him. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Eddie says as he clutches you against his body. “Shhh, it’s okay.” One of his arms is wrapped securely around your waist while his hand on the other comes up to smooth over your hair. “You’re okay.”

Jess sidesteps the two of you embracing, so she can head back into the living room; just far enough to be out of the way but close enough to hear everything. 

Eddie’s touch manages, as always, to calm you down. Something about his entire being makes you feel seen and understood. It’s been that way since day one with him. When you’ve calmed enough that you think you could talk without Jess acting as an interpreter, you pull away from Eddie and wipe your tear streaked face off on the sleeves of your sweatshirt. 

“Eddie, please don’t break up your family for me.”

“Baby,” he slips up with the pet name, but neither of you says anything. “I’m just doing what I should’ve done ages ago. I never should have put you in this position.” Eddie aches to bring his hands up to your face, but he doesn’t want to overstep what you’re comfortable with. It’s killing him to see you visibly upset, knowing he caused it, and just holding you wouldn’t solve anything. 

You nod your head at his words. Some of the pain is starting to ease and you feel like you can breathe properly for the first time in days. You’d told Eddie you just wanted to see him doing something; taking a step in the right direction. And this was a pretty damn good step to take. “You’ve called this guy?”

“No, I didn’t call him. I spent all morning at his office,” Eddie says, and your head snaps up to meet his eyes. “I’ve done everything I have to for the process to begin. Now they work on whatever legal bullshit they’ve got to do, I guess.”

But there’s something else that’s been eating at you. Yes, Eddie should’ve divorced Brittany a long time ago. But now that he’s finally doing it, does he really want to jump from one relationship to another? “Are you sure you want this? You don’t want to stay single for a while? Because I’ll under—”

Eddie caves and brings his hands up to your face, leaning in to press his lips firmly against yours, trying to convey all the love and fondness he can through one kiss. 

“I love you,” Eddie says once he’s pulled away. “And you don’t have to say it back if you don’t feel it, but I needed to tell you. I fucking love you.”

There’s never been so much confusion in your heart before. Eddie loves you. The thought can’t seem to sink in. Eddie loves me. You know wholeheartedly that you reciprocate the feeling. You’ve known that you love him for a long time. But there’s still so much fear. It’s dampening the excitement of his declaration.

“I—I’m afraid,” you murmur, eyes unable to meet his. 

Eddie frowns, taking your chin in his hand and tilting it slightly upwards. “Am I that mean and scary?” There’s some humor behind his words, but they’re tinged with concern. 

“No.” You shake your head. “I’m afraid that if I say it back and it—it makes it real, it’ll hurt even more if…” You can’t even finish the sentence without choking up. 

“Hey, hey,” Eddie presses his lips to yours. “It’s okay. I get it. Baby, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared, too. I mean, an old man like me getting involved with a total knockout like you? Beauty and brains?” He chuckles. “Let’s face it, pretty girl. I have a lot more to lose than you do.”

“I…I…” you hesitate, trying to muster up an ounce of courage. “I can’t do this, Eddie.” You gently press the business card back into his palm. “I can’t be in love with someone who’s married.” Your eyes widen as you come to a realization that makes you sick. “The boys…they’ll know I’m the reason that their parents split up.” You imagine their sweet, innocent faces blotchy with tears as they tell you they hate you. 

Eddie’s posture goes tense, and he almost sounds angry as he says, “Absolutely not. You gave me the courage to file, but my marriage was over long before this.” Your lips brush together in a series of chaste kisses. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” He rests his nose on yours; the saltiness of his own tears mixing with yours as they seep into your tongue. 

“I think we need to wait,” you blurt out, words tumbling from your mouth before you can think them through. “Until Brittany knows that you’ve filed, and you’ve talked about it with the kids.” It’s painful to push him away, but it’ll hurt worse if you continue this and he decides not to follow through with the divorce. 

Eddie looks crushed, like he was hoping to sweep you off your feet and make love to you right then and there. “Right, yeah. That makes sense.” He sniffles, trying to will away the sting of your rejection. “When that happens, we can finally be together?”

“If that’s what we both want.”

“Baby, I’ll never stop wanting you.” He’s so tempted to pull you into him and leave harsh, bruising kisses down your jawline, claiming you as his. “I’ll wait as long as you need.”

You just nod, twiddling your thumbs to keep yourself from intertwining your fingers with his. “Do you still want me to watch the boys?” you ask shyly, cheeks burning at the ridiculousness of the question. “Because I get it if—”

“If it’s okay with you. We’d—they’d—really miss you if you just up and left.” I’d miss you most of all, he thinks, but keeps it buttoned up inside. 

“Yeah,” you concede, stepping back towards your bed. “I’ll see you all later, then.”

You’re about to close the door when you hear him say, “Wait.” He steps closer to you, business card between his pointer and middle fingers. “Hold onto this f’me, please?”

You initially hesitate before accepting the card again. “Okay.”

“Never want you to forget how I feel about you,” Eddie says, placing one last kiss on your cheek before he’s out the door, leaving you in a spiral of your own racing thoughts. 

As soon as Jess hears his footsteps disappear down the hall, she’s in your room. “I don’t normally tell you what to do,” she murmurs, rubbing small circles on your back, “but if you don’t marry this man, I will.”

You give her a playful nudge as you rest your head on her shoulder. “He’s gotta get un-married first,” you remind her—and yourself—bitterly. 

After the conversation you had with Eddie earlier in the day, you’re a little worried things will be awkward when you pick Luke and Ryan up from school. But thankfully, they’re the same happy kids you know and love, and not a thing is different with them. It’s almost time for Eddie to come home when the three of you are finishing up a game of Candyland. Luke kept getting caught in the Molasses Swamp, so he huffs as you enlist their help in cleaning up the board and pieces. When the little boy stomps down the hall to put the game away, Ryan looks up at you. You give him a smile and his gaze shifts back to his lap. He glances back up at you and the unusual behavior makes you frown.

“What’s up, buttercup?” you ask.

“Why were you sad?” he asks, voice soft.

Frowning, you move some hair off of his forehead. “What do you mean?”

“On Saturday. You were talking with Daddy and then you got really sad and left. You didn’t even come say hi.” His sad brown eyes look so much like his father’s that it brings you back to when Eddie gave you the same look this morning. 

“I didn’t know you saw me.” You pause, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap. You’re not sure if Eddie had already said anything about it or not and you don’t want to contradict any explanation he might have given the kids. “Um, well, I was having a bad day. Do you ever have a day where you just don’t feel very happy?” Ryan nods. “That’s what it was. And I didn’t want to make you or Luke sad too, so that’s why I didn’t say hi.”

“Oh,” Ryan says, nodding his head. “Are you still sad?”

“Not as much,” you tell him truthfully. “Just a little.”

His little hand comes over and takes yours. “I don’t want you to be sad. You know what Daddy tells me when I get sad? That he loves me. And I love you. So, I’m telling you that.”

The smile that comes to your face is reflexive. Ryan is such a sweet boy, and you can’t imagine what your life would be like without him. You lean in and press a kiss to his hair, mumbling against it. “Seems to be a trend with the Munson boys today.”

“What?” Ryan asks.

“I love you, too,” you tell him, squeezing his hand gently. “You made me feel better.”

“Good!” A smile lights up his face and you wonder how this kid became so sweet despite having a mother like he does. Then the obvious answer hits you: Eddie’s his dad. Sweet, kind, means-well-but-sometimes-fucks-it-up Eddie.

You’re jostled from your thoughts by the sound of a key turning in the lock. Eddie hustles in, giving you a small smile.

“Hi,” he says simply, waiting for your response to see how he should proceed. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his coveralls.

“Hi.” You stand up and return his smile. “The boys were great today, as always.” You rest your palm on Ryan’s shoulder as he gives his dad a grin, showing off the gaps where his missing teeth are.

“We played Candyland, and I won,” he proudly reports. “And then I used your cheer-up trick! You know, when you tell someone you love that you love them.”

“Oh?” Eddie cocks an eyebrow. “Luke was that upset about losing?”

You shake your head. “No–well, yes,” you chuckle softly. “But he was talking about me. He saw that I was sad on Saturday and wanted to make me feel better.”

A wider smile spreads across Eddie’s face. “You’re a thoughtful kid, you know that?” he tells his oldest son, who doesn’t quite understand the concept of rhetorical questions.

“I know.” His candid demeanor makes you and Eddie laugh, and Ryan sprints to his brother’s room to announce that their dad is home.

You reach for your jacket, eager to leave before you’re tempted to talk to Eddie. Because you know precisely where that will lead.

“Hey, um,” Eddie digs into his pocket and pulls out more bills than usual from his wallet. “I’m gonna tell her tonight. Figured that’d go over better than just having her served.” He hands you your salary plus two extra twenties. “Could you take the boys out for dinner? Could just be McDonald’s or somethin’.”

You swallow thickly as you accept the money. “Y-Yeah,” you stammer, “how long will you need?”

“Give us an hour?” he shrugs. “Don’t think it’ll take that long; she’ll probably yell for a few minutes and then leave. But just in case she decides to stick around and scream for a while.” His chocolate brown eyes meet yours, making you shiver. “Thank you, baby–I mean, thank you. For, um, for everything.”

“Of course,” you nod. There’s a beat of awkward silence before you say, “I’ll go tell Luke and Ryan. They’ll probably be excited to have a Happy Meal.”

Eddie bites his lower lip as he watches you walk away. It’s going to be the hardest conversation of his life, but knowing it’ll bring you back to him makes it worth it.

Brittany comes home after you’ve already left with the kids, thankfully. Eddie’s waiting at the kitchen table, hands folded in front of him and knee bouncing up and down in nervousness. Brittany hangs up her coat and pauses as she passes the kitchen, raising an eyebrow as she sees her husband sitting there. 

“Um, hi?” she says.

“Hi, um.” Eddie kicks out the seat across from him at the table. “Can you sit? I need to talk to you about something.”

To his complete shock, she complies. “Where are the boys?”

“Uh, out to dinner. I needed to talk to you. Alone.”

“Okay.” Brittany crosses her arms over her chest before her face contorts in a sneer. “Wait. Is that little whore pregnant?”

Eddie bangs his palm against the table before pointing a finger at her. “Don’t you fucking call her that.” He takes a moment to compose himself, then a small smile creeps on his face as he thinks about the question. At the very thought of you having his baby.

“Holy shit, she is!” Brittany shouts.

“Oh, calm down!” Eddie rolls his eyes and motions for her to relax. “She’s not.”

“What’s with that dopey grin then, huh?” She spits the words at him, venom lacing every syllable. 

“Honestly? Cause the thought of her having my baby makes me really fucking happy. But that’s not—.”

“Ugh!” Brittany screeches. “What is wrong with you? I am your wife. Me! Remember? The one you promised yourself to?”

Eddie throws his head back and laughs, a hand slapping against his chest. “You’re actually serious? Really, Britt? You realize you’re the one who broke the vows first, remember? Years and years ago. So, you don’t get to act all high and mighty here.” Eddie licks over his lips, shaking his head. “You’re right, technically. You are my wife.” Not for long, he thinks to himself. “But we’ve been over a long time.”

“Just because you’ve decided it?” She arches a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. 

“Because you stepped out and stopped giving a shit about me.” Eddie holds his hands up. “I’m getting off track. Listen, I saw a lawyer today.”

“Why?” she snaps.

“I filed for divorce.” No sugar coating it. No beating around the bush. This shitshow of a marriage has already taken up too much of Eddie’s time. “And don’t blame her for it, because all she did was give me the courage to do what I should’ve done ages ago.” His eyes are blazing. “You only kept me around so you could pretend to have this perfect little life: husband, kids, house in the suburbs. Or maybe because you get some sick pleasure from stringing me along while you sleep with half the town.” That last part is probably a step too far, but he doesn’t care.

Brittany scoffs incredulously. “Fine, Eddie. You two enjoy your Barbie Dreamhouse life together. The boys and I will manage without you.” She starts to stand up, but she’s drawn back by a loud guffaw from Eddie. “What?”

“Do you really think they’re gonna want to live with you? Do you even know what goddamn grade they’re in? What they want to be when they grow up?” He watches her face fall. “That’s what I fuckin’ thought. And you know the saddest part? They know it, too. They know that their own mother doesn’t give a shit about them.” He wipes a tear from his cheek. “I bet you know every last detail about your boyfriends, though. You and your fucked up priorities.”

Brittany’s expression turns from shock to rage. “Get. Out.” she seethes, gritting her teeth. “Go stay with your girlfriend, since you love her so much.” She’s crying, too, but because she’s losing the argument, not because she’s losing her husband.

“You’re gonna wake up with them and get them ready for school in the morning? Tell me; what do they eat for breakfast?” He laughs tersely at her silence. “That’s what I thought.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m staying here. For Ryan and Luke.” His voice softens slightly. “You can stay here, too, until we sort this shit out.”

Brittany doesn’t take him up on his offer; instead, she storms out of the room and into the bedroom. She starts tossing clothes into a duffel bag, zipping it up and tossing it over her shoulder. “I’ll be back tomorrow after they go to school to get the rest of my things.”

She slams the screen door behind her, and Eddie hears her car start up and peel out of the driveway. He allows himself to sob, mourning the life he’d once had. But he still has his boys; his incredible, gentle, loving sons. 

And if he plays his cards right, he has you, too.

Eddie finally drags himself from the kitchen table to the bathroom where he washes his face. It’s all red and splotchy from the crying, and the tears are sticky on his skin. As he’s toweling himself off, the bathroom light glints off his golden wedding ring, reflecting in the mirror above the sink. Eddie sets the soft towel down and stares at his left hand. He should be upset about taking it off, he thinks. But as he slips it off his finger all he feels is immense relief. It’s as if the ring weighed a ton and now without it, he feels light as a feather. Walking into his room, he pulls open his bedside table and drops the ring inside. He’ll have to think of something to do with it, but for now, it’s fine lying in the dusty old drawer. 

The front door opens, and two loud voices echo back to the master bedroom. Rubbing his hands over his face one last time, Eddie heads out to greet his family.

“Daddy!” Luke calls when he sees him. “Look! I got a race car toy!”

“Wow,” Eddie says, taking the small blue car from his son. He looks it over and nods his head appreciatively. “This looks like something I’d want to work on in the garage.”

Luke giggles and takes the toy back, happily going over to the coffee table which he pretends is a road for his new car to drive over. 

“Hi, Dad! Bye, Dad!” Ryan runs towards the bathroom, making Eddie chuckle.

“Wasn’t sure he was going to make it home,” you say. Eddie slips his hands into the pockets of his jeans and gives you a small smile. His eyes catch on the chocolate shake in your hands, and you hold it out to him. “Got you this. Thought you might need it.”

“Thanks,” Eddie says as he accepts the treat. 

“How’d it go?” you ask.

Eddie heaves a sigh and shakes his head. “Pretty much how I expected it to. She left for the night—went God knows where. Says she’ll be back tomorrow for her things.”

As tense as things are between you and Eddie, you can’t help but step forward and place a comforting hand on his shoulder, rubbing over the thin material of his t-shirt. “I’m sorry. I can't imagine how hard it was for you.”

“The conversation? Yeah. Doing it? Nah. That wasn’t hard,” he says with a shrug. “How were the boys?”

You both know they were fine, but you take the hint that Eddie doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. He lifts the shake to his mouth and your eyes catch on his hand. At the bare ring finger. The sight makes your tummy do a weird flip that you’re not sure how to interpret. 

“They—They were fine. Good,” you say. “I, um, I should go now. Jess is probably wondering where I am.” You grab your keys and head for the door. 

“Wait!” Eddie calls out, a bit louder than he’d meant to. “Sorry. I just wanted you to know that there’s no time limit on…on us. I mean, if it’s a definite no, I’ll shut up and leave you alone...”

“Eddie,” you smile, more genuinely than before. “You’ve never shut up before, and I don’t expect you to start now.”

“You know what I mean though, right?”

“I do,” you agree. “And I need time to think, but it’s…we’re not off the table.”

Eddie grins; he has to stop himself from picking you up and spinning you around in celebration. “I can live with that,” he says finally. 

“You’d better.”

Sure enough, Brittany comes back the next morning to pack more of her clothes. She briefly kisses Luke and Ryan hello, shooting a glare at Eddie that could kill.

“I’m giving you until Friday to move out,” she snarls once the boys are out of earshot. “We can figure out custody shit with the lawyer, but I think it’s best for them to be in the house for now. With me,” she adds pointedly.

Eddie sighs, exhausted from just the prospect of arguing. “Fine,” he concedes, “but just because I’m moving out doesn’t mean I’m not gonna fight like hell for them.” He zips up his coveralls and calls out for the kids to put their shoes on before they miss the bus.

“Whatever, Eddie,” Brittany rolls her eyes, slipping on her blazer and her nametag. “You know they won’t take kids from their mom. You’ll just get every other weekend like the rest of the loser dads.” 

Eddie takes the week to pack up his things, a pit in his stomach as he gets to the photos on his nightstand. The one of him and Brittany can go in the trash, but his heart pangs at the framed picture of his boys. The thought of waking up in the morning without them right down the hall is enough to make him cry.

“No,” he tells himself, “I’m gonna get custody of them. Full custody.” He can picture a new little home with you, Luke, and Ryan. And maybe another baby Munson or two, if you’re willing.

He makes plans with Steve to stay with him and his family, but on Friday morning, an exasperated phone call thwarts his plans.

“Hey, Munson,” Steve coughs into the phone, and Eddie winces when he hears how sick his friend sounds. “The whole Harrington bunch has the flu. It’s like an infirmary here.” He laughs softly, resulting in another round of hacking coughs. “I don’t think we’re quite up for visitors right now. I’m sorry, man.”

“S’okay,” Eddie grumbles. “Feel better.” He doesn’t have time to figure out new plans before he has to get to work, so he’ll just have to brainstorm through his oil changes today. 

When you pick the kids up from school that afternoon, you immediately notice how quiet both boys are—especially Ryan. You’re almost positive you know the reason why, but you debate with yourself the whole ride back to the house if you should say anything. 

Luke seems to be in a better mood once he gets a snack in him. He sits on the couch, little legs tucked up underneath his body as he munches on graham crackers and watches Scooby Doo. Ryan is still noticeably glum though, sitting at the kitchen table, his finger tracing random patterns on the green tabletop. 

“Hey,” you say, taking the seat next to him. There’s no way you can just stand by and see this sweet boy feel so lousy. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right? If something is bothering you or is on your mind. Anything.”

Ryan nods his head, and you think he’s going to stay silent. But after a few moments he lifts his head up towards you, his large brown eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I don’t want to live here with Mom.”

It’s not what you expected to come out of his mouth. Any variation of “mom and daddy are breaking up” is what you thought you were going to hear. 

“What do you mean, sweetheart?”

Ryan sniffles and wipes his nose on his sleeve. Any other time you’d correct him for it, but the least you could do is let it pass. 

“Daddy said Mom is staying here and Luke and I can’t come with him yet. He’s going to stay with Uncle Steve and it’s not fair because I know they have a big house and I’m little enough to share a room with Daddy. But he said me or Luke can’t.” 

Releasing a sigh, you wrap your arm around Ryan’s shoulders. It’s times like these where you don’t feel like the adult you legally have been for years. When you were a kid you thought adults always knew the right thing to say. Now you know that’s bullshit. 

“Oh, Ryan.” You press a kiss to the top of his head. “You know Daddy would give anything to have you both with him, don’t you? You know how much he loves you.”

“More than Mom does,” Ryan says matter-of-factly. It breaks your heart that he knows that at only seven years old. And you can’t bring yourself to lie to the boy by refuting the claim. 

“Daddy loves you so much,” you reiterate. “And I love you.”

“Hey,” Ryan says with a small smile. “You used Daddy’s trick, too.” 

“Look at that,” you say. “And I didn’t even mean to. I was just telling you the truth about how much I love you.” You pull him into a hug, and he climbs in your lap. The only other time he’s done this before was when he was sick, so you know he desperately needs the comfort. “Hey, I’ve got you. Everything is going to be okay.” Cradling him against your body, you rest your head on top of his. 

By the time Eddie gets home, both of the boys are crashed on the couch with you, one tucked on either side as Toy Story plays on the television. Their father looks wrung out as he steps inside, bags under his eyes and exhaustion worn into lines on his face. Both boys jump up and run to him like normal, but the way they cling to him this time is more desperate and needy. It brings a stinging pressure behind your eyes, and you have to blink it away.

“Hey!” Eddie says, attempting to be cheerful for them. “There’s my boys! How was your day?”

“Okay,” Ryan says at the same time that Luke shrugs. Eddie kisses both of their heads before unzipping his coveralls and giving you a small, weary smile. 

You’re not sure why, but you get the urge to stand up and follow Eddie down the hallway. He raises an eyebrow when you follow him into his room. Your eyes take in the boxes around the cleared-out space before looking back to him.

“Are you okay?” 

“Uh,” Eddie says with a shrug. “Hanging in there, I guess.” He sighs and runs a hand down his face. “Gotta blow some cash on a hotel though ‘cause the Harrington clan got the flu.” 

You frown at that. The offer is on the tip of your tongue, but you take a moment to consider it. Is it a good idea? Sure, the tension has eased a bit between the two of you over the course of the week, but it’s still there. It’s not that you feel awkward around him, exactly, it’s more of a yearning that you’re trying to keep in check. But you still love him, and you don’t want to see him wasting his money or spending time all alone holed up in some hotel.

“Eddie, don’t do that. Save your money. Come stay with me.”

His jaw drops and a rough chuckle falls from his mouth. “Sweetheart—you, you don’t have to do this. Really, it’s fine.”

Taking a step closer, you grab one of Eddie’s hands in your own. “You’re about to be a single dad to two growing boys. And paying a lawyer to try and get custody. Come on, just stay with me.” 

Eddie sighs, your logic wearing him down. Finally, he nods his head and licks over his lips. “Okay. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No, it’s okay,” you tell him. “As long as you’re not wearing your dirty coveralls, you’re more than welcome to sleep next to me.” 

He sticks his tongue out at you. “My coveralls don’t make the cut, but you’re fine after being around germ machines all day?”

“They’re your germ machines!” you remind him.

When Brittany gets home, she completely ignores you. “You can go now,” she says to her soon-to-be-ex-husband. “Is your stuff packed already?” Eddie nods, but she’s already walked past him. 

“Boys, come say goodbye to your dad!” Brittany calls out half-heartedly. Eddie cringes at the way it sounds: your dad. Not dad, the father of this family; now he’s an outsider in his own home. 

Ryan and Luke trudge out of their rooms. “Daddy,” Luke asks softly, “can you stay? Please? You can sleep in my room if you don’t want to be near Mom.”

Eddie blinks back tears. “I’m sorry, bud,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads. “That’s real nice of you to offer, though.”

“I love you, Daddy.” Ryan throws his arms around his dad, squeezing him tight. “‘M gonna miss you.”

“Hey, hey,” Eddie forces out a chuckle, “I’m moving out; I’m not dead.” He looks up at you, and you give him a small, encouraging smile. “I’ll stop by tomorrow and we can go to the park, yeah?”

“All of us?” asks Ryan. 

“Um,” Eddie clears his throat, “I don’t know if Mom will—”

“No,” Ryan shakes his head. “I meant…” He looks at you, and you’re taken aback. 

“I don’t want to interrupt your father-son bonding time,” you gently tease, trying not to overstep your bounds. 

“But we want you to come!” Luke protests, glancing at Ryan for confirmation, who nods. “You can play tag with us. Daddy’s too old.”

“Excuse me, sir!” Eddie gasps. “Could an old man do this?” He takes each boy in one arm and throws them over his shoulder. They’re giggling and kicking their feet; Luke narrowly misses Eddie’s groin. “Hey, be careful of the family jewels,” he warns, making them laugh even harder. 

When he sets them down, he looks them square in the eyes. “Tomorrow. Playground. The four of us. And I will kick your little butts in tag. Got it?”

“Got it!” the boys echo, giving him one last hug before going back to play. 

You turn to Eddie. “Y’okay?” you ask him, though it seems like a dumb question. 

“Getting there,” he admits, slinging a duffel bag over his shoulder and managing a smile. “Let’s hit the road.”

Eddie throws his bag in his van and climbs in. He follows you as you drive to your apartment and pulls into the parking space next to you. When Eddie steps out of his van, you can tell he’d been crying on the drive over, but you can’t blame him one bit. 

Jess is sitting on the couch when the two of you walk in, a bowl of popcorn in her lap and Pretty Woman playing on the television. Her hand freezes halfway to her mouth, a few kernels of popcorn stuck between her fingers and her jaw hanging open.

“Hi, again,” Eddie says, giving her a sheepish smile. Jess raises her other hand in greeting, eyes darting over to look at you. 

“Yeah, we uh, we’ve got a house guest for now,” you say, cheeks getting warm. You gesture for Eddie to go ahead of you, into your room. Jess raises her eyebrows at you when you walk past, and you playfully swat at her before following in behind him. Closing the door, you lean against it as you watch Eddie drop his duffel onto your floor. 

“You hungry?” you ask. Eddie shrugs and slides his hands into his pockets. You huff a laugh and roll your eyes. “Eddie, we have food. I can make something.”

“Don’t wanna put you out any more than I am,” he says, shrugging again. 

“So, what? You’re not going to eat the whole time you’re here?” You raise your eyebrows at him and walk over, tugging on the zipper of his leather jacket. “You’re also allowed to take your jacket off, ya know? We don’t make our guests sweat or starve themselves to death.”

“Such a good hostess,” Eddie says with a playful smirk. 

“Oh, come on.” You open your bedroom door and walk out to the kitchen, waiting as Eddie trails along behind you. Pursing your lips, you open the freezer and peer inside. “Should we have ice cream sundaes for dinner?”

“Oh, the boys would be so jealous.” Eddie chuckles and reaches in to grab the ice cream. You put two bowls down on the counter and Eddie starts scooping as you grab any toppings you can find. Whipped cream, sprinkles, chocolate chips, cherries, and chocolate sauce. Eddie dips his finger in the chocolate sauce and puts a dot of it on your nose. He laughs when you go cross eyed trying to look at it. 

“Whipped cream, please,” you say, holding your hand out. The sound of the spout spraying out the airy cream meets your ears before you feel the cold stickiness hitting your palm. “I meant the can!”

Eddie’s smirk falls from his face as you lick the whipped topping from your hand, instantly realizing he walked right into you teasing him like that. It hadn’t been your intention to tease him though, and you feel your face warm up as you swallow the mouthful. Neither of you having eaten in hours, you inhale the sundaes, and Eddie manages to only get brain freeze once. You put the empty bowls in the sink to be washed later, and Eddie says he’s going to take a quick shower. As you grab a towel for him, you tease him about making sure he gets all the dirt from his coveralls off his body. He tugs on a strand of your hair before heading into the bathroom.

Even though it’s early, you change into your pajamas and get comfortable on your bed. You pull out your worn copy of Little Women and reread it for what must be the hundredth time. You’re so enraptured by Jo and Laurie’s banter that you don’t even hear the shower turn off. 

“Jesus H. Christ!” Eddie’s voice snaps you from your book. Your jaw nearly drops to the ground when you see him walk in, wearing nothing but the towel around his lithe waist. His curly hair is dripping wet, leaving little water droplets along his bare shoulders as he scrambles for his clothes. “Shit, ‘m sorry. Forgot my suitcase…”

“It’s fine,” you reassure him, marking your page with an old receipt and closing the book. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Eddie blushes, and it’s simultaneously the cutest and sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. “Y-Yeah, but we’re not doing, um, that anymore, so…” He grabs a clean pair of boxers and plaid pajama pants. “I’ll just get changed in the bathroom.” 

He comes back without a shirt on, and you cock an eyebrow in amusement. “Forget something?” you ask, trying to play it cool and not salivate at the sight of his tattooed chest. 

“Oh, yeah…” he grins sheepishly. “I usually get too warm to sleep with a shirt, b-but I can put one on if you’d feel more comfortable.”

The ache between your legs tells you that something else has to happen to alleviate your discomfort, but you push away that thought. “Nah, I’d rather sleep next to a shirtless Eddie than a sweaty one.” But that’s bullshit; you’d sleep next to any version of him you could get. 

Eddie flips you off before climbing into bed. “Longest week of my life,” he mutters. His arm instinctively snakes around your waist; it isn’t until you move to flick off your lamp that he realizes. “Fuck, ‘m just so used to holding you.” He starts to pull away, but you hold his hand in place. 

“You can hold me…if you want to,” you murmur, sliding deeper under the covers. “Y’don’t have to.”

But Eddie’s already tugging your back to his chest. “Don’t have to tell me twice.” His voice is muffled, face nuzzled against your shoulder blade. “Oh, and don’t mind him if he’s excited in the morning. He has a mind of his own.”

You throw his words back at him. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

A comfortable silence fills the air as you lay in his arms. He presses tiny kisses along your shoulders, making you shiver. 

“Eddie?” Your voice is so small that even you barely hear it. “Can I ask you something?” You adjust yourself so that you’re facing him, your nose touching his. His big hands fall to your thighs, and he rubs his thumb along them as he waits for you to elaborate. “The other day, when you said you love me…why?”

His face scrunches up in confusion. “Why did I say it? Or why do I love you?”

“Both, I guess.”

“Well,” he starts, bringing one palm up to cup your cheek, “I love you because you treat me and my boys with love, kindness, and respect. I love you because you make me smile on my worst days. Saying goodbye to Ryan and Luke tonight…I thought my heart was gonna break in half. But then you were there, and I knew everything would be all right. Maybe not right now, but it will be. You give me hope. And I haven’t felt that for a long time.” He offers you a little smile. “And I told you because you deserve to know how fucking loved you are.”

His confession leaves you breathless; it takes you a moment to process it all. “Eddie Munson, the fact that anyone made you question your worth…” you trail off, shaking your head. That isn’t what this is about. “You make me happy. I never knew that one person could be so kind, so thoughtful, so loving. And your boys…God, they’re just the best kids, all because of you. They see what a gentle, sensitive man you are, and they’re not afraid to show that side of themselves.”

“I’m actually very burly,” he pouts. “Dunno why you’re painting me as this big ol’ softy.”

“You’re right; I’m sorry,” you giggle. “You’re the toughest, grittiest guy I know. You could fight a kangaroo and win.” You feel his fingertips dig into your hips as he brings you even closer to him. “And those are just some of the reasons why…why I love you, Eddie.”

Even in the dim lighting of your darkened room you can see the way Eddie’s face lights up at your words. If your stomach wasn’t already a flurry from finally telling him how you feel, it would be from the sheer joy in his expression. 

“Say it again,” Eddie pleads, hand coming up to cup your cheek. “Please.”

“I love you, Eddie.” His smile is contagious as you mirror it, saying the words that have long been on your heart. 

“I love you, too.” 

It’s far from your first kiss, but as the two of you lean in towards one another, the electricity crackles in the air around you. There’s a giddiness and an earnesty when your lips touch that sends a shockwave through your body. It’s not your first kiss but it’s your first kiss since you’ve declared your love for one another. That makes it your favorite kiss of all. 

Eddie rests his forehead against yours, hand sliding down to your neck and his thumb brushing over your pulse point. Goosebumps break out on your skin beneath his touch, and he chuckles as he feels them against his fingertips. 

“Can’t believe you react that way because of me,” he says. “I feel like all of this is too good to be true.” 

You nod, your hand coming up to rest on top of his black widow tattoo, over his heart. “I know what you mean. I felt that way our first night.”

“Mm, but now,” Eddie says, pausing to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “It’s just you and me and nothing has to be hidden. I can take you out, hold your hand in public, kiss you in front of whoever I want—with your permission, of course.”

“What about the boys?” Your hand comes up to play with the damp curls at the base of his neck. “What do we tell them? It might be confusing for them to go straight from ‘Daddy loves Mom’ to ‘Daddy loves our babysitter.’” 

“That wasn’t exactly how it happened,” Eddie says with a breathy chuckle. “More like ‘Daddy stopped loving Mom a long time ago because she’s evil incarnate and then he met the most beautiful, wonderful, amazing woman who stole his heart.’”

“That might be a little tough for them to swallow,” you say, a playful smirk on your lips. 

“Well…” Eddie says, looking up at you through his dark eyelashes. There’s a shy expression on his face and it’s so foreign to his features. “What are we, then? Like, how would you want to describe what we have?” 

It sounds like such a high school question, but it’s important to figure it out and make sure you’re both on the same page. Husband and wife? your brain thinks automatically. You feel like you’re going to have to constantly kick yourself in the ass to make sure you don’t get ahead of yourself.

“Hmm,” you hum. “Well, you mentioned taking me out. Why don’t you ask me on a proper first date?”

“God, I haven’t done that since high school,” Eddie says.

“Didn’t they call it courting back then? You know, in the 1920’s?”

Eddie smirks and his hands instantly attach to your sides, tickling you until you’re a squealing, squirming mess below him. 

“Okay, so how about for our first date I take you to the bingo hall?” Eddie’s flat voice makes you giggle even harder. You drop your forehead to his shoulder and cuddle your body closer to his. 

“Nope,” you say, popping the p. “M’not 21 yet. Can't gamble.”

“Or drink,” Eddie realizes, his eyes widening. “Holy shit, I’m dating a Cabbage Patch Kid.”

A blush comes to your cheeks as you laugh, deciding not to point out that there is in fact a Cabbage Patch doll sitting in the corner of your room. “So, we’re dating, huh?”

“I guess we will be once I think of a perfect place to take you,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“And ask me,” you remind him, raising your eyebrows. 

“Right, right.” Eddie clears his throat. “Sweetheart, would you make me the happiest metal head this side of the Mississippi and accompany me on a date next Friday?”

Pursing your lips, you pretend to think his offer over. His eyes narrow at you as the silence stretches on.

“I would be honored, Edward.”

His nose wrinkles up at the formality of his full name. “Ugh, that sounds so snobby. Edward.”

“Hmm,” you tease. “How about Edwin? Edmund? Edgar?”

“Uh, no.”

“Oedipus?”

“Isn’t that the guy who fucked his mom and killed his dad?”

The rest of the night is like this; being silly and sneaking kisses as you cuddle up into each other. You feel so safe against Eddie’s chest, enveloped in his warmth. You start to drift off to sleep, but your rest is disrupted by his constant tossing and turning.

“Something on your mind?” You try to keep your voice light, but you can’t help the concern that seeps through.

Eddie slips his arm around your waist, thrumming his fingers along your hip. “Can’t stop thinking about my boys,” he murmurs. “I just wish they were here, too. Hate knowing that I won’t wake up in the morning to them fighting over Hot Wheels.”

You sigh, debating whether or not to tell him what you know. “I talked to Ryan today,” you begin, hoping you’re doing the right thing, “and he said that he wants to live with you. Not, um, her. He was sad that he and Luke had to stay in the house and not come with you.”

“Oh.” Eddie’s silent, processing what he’s just heard. “That makes me feel good, I guess. Too bad a judge won’t care.”

“What do you mean?” You prop yourself up on your elbow, facing him.

“She said that dads usually just get every other weekend, holidays, y’know,” he bites his lip nervously, and you kiss it to distract him. “I mean, I’m glad they don’t hate me, but it makes me sad that they’ll have to be with her if they don’t want to be.”

You shake your head. “Eddie, the boys–especially Ryan–are old enough that a judge will listen to what they want. And if they tell him or her that they’re more comfortable living with their dad, you might be able to get full custody.” He’s still quiet, so you press on. “I know you don’t want them being too involved in it, but it might be worth it if it means they get to be with you.”

Eddie caresses your cheek, a smile spreading across his face. “How do you always do this?”

“Do what?”

“Make me happy. Make me realize that everything will be okay.” He kisses your forehead lightly before yawning, finally able to relax. “I fuckin’ love you, baby. Sweet dreams.”

Waking up next to Eddie is the best feeling in the world. And he wasn’t lying about his morning…situation. You can feel his hard length pressing up against your thigh as he softly snores. You know you should probably wait until your first official date, but you haven’t stopped craving him since your last time together, back at the auto shop. Before you can stop yourself, you’re kissing his neck, the slight stubble that’s formed overnight scratching your cheek.

“Hey, sugar,” he murmurs sleepily. “What’s gotten into you, hm?”

“Missed you,” you manage, wrapping your leg around his so they’re intertwined. 

He chuckles, voice groggy and deeper than usual. “Missed me? ‘M right here.” His eyebrows shoot up when you reach down and gently graze his morning wood. “Oh, shit,” he hisses, “baby, if you touch me there…”

“I know,” you say between kisses. “I want you to. Please.”

Eddie’s fingertips dig into your side. “Y’know I can’t turn you down when you beg for me like that,” he growls, hooking a finger into the waistband of your lace panties and tugging them off. Before you can ask him for more, he’s diving beneath the sheets, bringing his lips to your inner thighs, alternating between kissing, sucking, and biting.

“St-stop teasing me, Eds,” you whimper. He’s so fucking close to where you need him to be, yet too far away. You can see the outline of his head as he gives a little nod, plunging between your legs. He licks a stripe up your folds, breathing heavily as he tastes you.

“You’re fuckin’ delicious,” he says, words vibrating along your core. “Could eat this pussy for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, shit.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you say, one hand fisting your sheet as Eddie’s tongue licks up another stripe. The other hand snakes its way into his messy curls, and he moans when you pull his hair.

 He brings his lips to your clit and sucks on it, grinning as he senses you writhing against him. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” he teases, slipping a finger inside your aching sex. 

“Fuck, Eddie,” you whine, trying not to buck up your hips, but your efforts are fruitless. Eddie’s on a mission to make you come as many times as he possibly can, and he’s making no attempt to hide it. You feel a second thick finger enter your pussy, stretching you slightly. His fingers pump in and out of you, his tongue keeping a relentless pace on your clit. The overstimulation from his mouth and hand pushes you over the edge, and you cry out his name over and over as you finish.

Eddie throws the sheet over his head, grinning widely. His chin is covered in your slick, and he wears it proudly. “That’s one,” he announces. “Ready for another?”

“Y-Yes, please.”

“Y’ask so nice for me, babe.” 

Blushing at his sweet words, you turn your head to hide your face in your pillow. Eddie tuts and gently tugs your chin until you’re looking up at him again. He chuckles at your shy look, leaning down to press slow kisses along your throat. 

“I love you, baby,” he mumbles against your skin. 

“I love you too, Eddie.” You feel his hips align with yours, and your jaw drops open at the pleasurable stretch as he begins to push inside of you. 

“Shit,” Eddie groans. “Missed your tight little pussy.” 

Your fingers clutch at his back, nails sure to leave some raised pink scratches by the time you’re done. “S’big,” you moan. “Don’t know if I can take it all.”

“You can,” he reassures you, going in deeper until he bottoms out. “You’re gonna take it all f’me. ‘M gonna fill you up s’good. Just please, gotta let me move, baby doll.” His eyes are pleading, desperate to rut up inside you.

“Can move, Eddie,” you say, nodding your head. The words have barely left your lips before he’s withdrawing, just to thrust back into you. A gasp leaves your lips as he fills you to the hilt again. It may have only been about a week since you’d slept together, but it felt like an eternity without having him inside of you. 

“Love you,” you say in between moans, and Eddie’s hips pick up the pace at your words.

“Love you, too. Fuck, baby, you keep saying that and this isn’t going to last as long as I want it to.” He huffs a breathy laugh and rests his forehead against yours. 

“That a challenge?” you ask with a smirk.

“Uh uh,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “M’gonna make you come over and over.” As if to prove his point, he slips two fingers into your mouth, putting pressure on your tongue. “Get ‘em nice and wet for me, baby. I know what that pretty mouth can do.”

Slipping your eyes closed, you swirl your tongue around his fingers, moaning around his thick digits. You open your eyes and meet Eddie’s dark gaze, his attention focused solely on your face as his hips keep snapping against yours. Once you release his fingers with a sharp pop, he brings them down to your clit, rubbing in a tight circle. 

A whine escapes your lips as you throw your head back, neck arching and exposed to the man above you. Eddie leans in and attaches his lips to the side of your throat, sucking and biting at the skin, determined to leave you with a mark that won’t fade any time soon. 

“Close, Eddie,” you say, hands coming up to tangle in his long curly locks again. 

“Come on, baby,” Eddie urges. “Gimme another one.” 

You do as he says, arching your back and wrapping your legs around the bottom of his ass and pulling him even deeper inside you. “‘M coming, all f’you.” He nods, slowing his pace slightly and allowing you to come down slightly.

“S’fucking beautiful when you come on my cock,” he muses. “Want one more from you. Can you handle that? Just one more?”

“One more,” you murmur, already fucked out from two back-to-back orgasms.

“Thas’ my good girl.” 

“C-Come with me this time?” you ask, voice hoarse. Tears prick at your eyes, and you wipe them away before he can notice.

“Aww,” Eddie coos, “did I wear my girl out?”

His taunting lights a fire inside you, and you smirk. “Actually, I want you deeper.”

“Fuck,” he throws his head back, withdrawing from you. He chuckles darkly when you hiss at the loss. “The faster you get on your hands and knees, the faster I can be back inside you.”

Muscles weak and protesting the movement, you force yourself to ignore it and do as Eddie says. His hands grab your hips, rough calloused fingers running over your smooth skin. 

“Mm, what a nice view,” Eddie admires as he removes one hand from your body to line his cock up with your hole. He teases you, sliding his length up and down your slit as you drop your head forward. Your whines only encourage him as he watches your hole flutter around nothing. 

“Please, Eddie,” you beg. 

“Anything for my needy girl,” Eddie says, and you don’t need to be looking at him to know there’s a smirk on his face. He slides back inside of you and your arms give out, upper body landing on your pillow. Your fingers scratch at your purple pillowcase as he slams into you. The repeated motion of his hips has the headboard banging against the wall and his heavy balls slapping against your clit. 

“Fuck, baby,” you breathe out. “So deep. So, so deep.”

“Tell me how it feels, princess. How’s it make my girl feel?” Eddie’s hand grabs onto your ass and slides it up your back. 

“So full,” you answer. “Love when you’re inside me.” The pressure of him against your walls has you clenching around his length. “Spank me, Eddie. I’ve been a bad girl.”

Eddie’s hips stutter; you’ve never caught him off-guard like this before. His palm meets your ass with a small whack, but it’s nothing compared to what you need. 

“No, harder. You won’t hurt me.”

A string of swear words slips from his lips as he smacks the fat of your ass with more power, leaving a stinging print. “More?” But he can’t follow through before he stammers, “fuck—shit—‘m coming.” His dick twitches, and he moans as he finishes. “Come with me; want you to cream my cock while I fuck you full of me. Want you to take all my cum, thassagoodgirlfuckfuckfuck.” He spills into you, continuing to thrust. “Take it, take it all. So fuckin’ good f’me, taking all my cum. Bet you want me to knock you up, don’t you?” The words leave his mouth before he can catch them. 

The thought of having Eddie’s baby normally makes you feel all kinds of ways; imagining him tenderly kissing your bump or staring at your newly-larger breasts in awe. It’s all pretend for now, at least until you graduate. 

Thank God for birth control, you think. But then your whole body freezes up. 

In all of last night’s excitement, you’d forgotten to take your pill. 

“Shit!” you cry out, pulling away from him. But it’s too late; you can feel his release dripping down your leg. You turn to him, misty-eyed, and explain the situation. 

“Don’t cry, pretty girl,” Eddie smiles, laying down and motioning for you to snuggle into his chest. “Would it be so bad? Having my baby?”

You shake your head. “I-I want your baby,” you admit, “but I gotta get my degree, get a job…” You gaze up at him incredulously. “You really mean it when you say you wanna get me pregnant? It’s not just dirty talk?”

Eddie laughs, putting his arm around you and pulling you closer. “Baby, if you only knew how many times I’ve gotten off thinkin’ about knocking you up…” He clicks his tongue. “Turns me on so…damn…bad…” he muses, punctuating the last three words with kisses to your neck. 

“Easy there; you just wore me out,” you giggle. “We should be okay. I can take two now, and I’m just a few days from getting my period.” You laugh harder when he frowns. “Don’t tell me you’re grossed out by periods!”

“No, but we can’t…y’know, practice making a baby while…” he pouts, and you tuck his hair behind his ears. 

“I don’t mind a little mess if you don’t,” you shrug. “Besides, orgasms help with cramps.”

His eyes light up. “Consider me your personal heating pad, then.”

You roll your eyes and swing your legs out of bed. “C’mon, we promised the boys we’d take them to the park.”

Eddie groans, overdramatically, and holds his hands over his heart as if he’s been shot. “You found it, baby. Literally the only thing that could get me out of bed with you.” 

This time when you roll your eyes, there’s a fond smile on your face as well. “I’m sure the boys would be glad to know that they’re prioritized over getting laid.”

“Well, first of all,” Eddie says as he scoops up his boxers from where they’d be kicked on the floor. “It’s not just getting laid. It’s having sex with you. Totally different, we’re making love now. Officially!” His face radiates joy as he jumps around, sliding his boxers up. “Because, you know, you said you love me and all. Remember that?”

Turning around from where you were digging some underwear out of your drawer, you put your hands on Eddie’s chest and smile up at him, placatingly. “I do remember. And I remember you saying you love me too. But the boys are still more important.”

Eddie laughs and presses a kiss to your hair. “They’ll understand when they’re older.”

Playfully, you shove him off of you, which only makes him grab you around the waist and pull you up against his body. You’re squealing as you try to get away from him, to collect your clothes for the day. But, unable to shake him, you settle for him helping you get dressed. 

“Can I stay here until the Harrington quarantine is lifted?” he asks, suddenly shy. 

You wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your chest to his. “Baby, you can stay here forever.” 

[fatgirlonadate-blog]

21 Days - Day 13

The first sneeze was oddly endearing; it was the first time you'd ever heard him make such a sound and you secretly treasured it. It was another new memory to file away in the library of Xavier experiences in your mind.

The second and third sneezes were also cute, and you'd started to wonder if maybe Xavier had allergies. It was an odd thought. He so often seemed indestructible, and it had never occurred to you that he might have such a normal weakness. It made him feel more tangible somehow - less otherworldly.

The sneezes and small coughs that came after were mostly drowned out by the sound of your status report with Jenna. They were just a background hum while you sat in the living room and explained to her, again, that you still didn't have much to go on.

Jenna was patient, as always, and asked the same questions as before. Lying to her wasn't an option, not with the way her keen eyes cut right through you and could detect bullshit a mile away. So you stuck to the truth, just not the full truth.

There was no good way to explain that you spend more time wondering how to get Xavier's clothes off than you do trying to get information about the suspect. So you conveniently left that part out and focused instead on your plans to spend the next week scouting the neighboring businesses and shops. It wasn't a great strategy - one that was made up on the spot - but Jenna had seemed to agree that it was a good idea.

By the time you'd finished the call, Xavier's soft sounds of distress coming from the bedroom had quieted and the apartment was silent except for the small pattering of rain against the windows.

"Xav?" You call, wandering down the hall and quietly opening the bedroom door.

He's lying on the bed, huddled under a blanket, and you watch the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest for a few moments. Tiptoeing closer, you see that his cheeks are flushed and his ash-blonde hair is sticking damply around his hairline. Heat warms your palm instantly as you sit on the bed and press your hand to his forehead. His eyes remain closed, his breathing deep and even, but his skin is hot under your fingers.

"Xavier?" You whisper, brushing his damp locks away from his forehead, a feeling of worry gnawing at your stomach. This does not look like allergies.

His eyes flutter open, unfocused on yours, before he groans and closes them again like just the act of keeping them open is painful. He shifts listlessly, his arm reaching out for you but falling short by a few inches before stilling on the bed.

The small gesture awakens something infinitely tender inside of you. He's never sick - never weak. But right now he looks almost fragile - like he needs you. He's just a boy, you realize. Your sick, sweet boy who is vulnerable in a way you've never seen before. The sight steals the breath from your chest, and in its place blooms a certainty that is both natural and extraordinary all at once.

Falling in love is like being struck by lightning, you think. You can see it building as the clouds roll in, feel it rising in the tension of the air, and sense it before it comes. But it does not really hit you until it strikes, and once it does, you are struck instantly and completely by it - helpless but to let it flow through you. And you know undoubtedly that is what you are right now, helpless but to love him.

It was bound to happen eventually; you can only fall for so long before you finally hit the ground. And now, that moment had arrived. There was no grand gesture in it; no romantic words or passionate declarations that finally tipped the scale. It was just a sick boy, shivering in a quiet room, using the last of his strength to reach for you.

"Hey, I’m right here," you murmur, reaching out to take his hand. Your own trembles slightly as you realize how totally and completely you have fallen for him.

His eyes blink open again, and this time he finds your face and focuses on it. His smile is weak, and his voice sounds hoarse and rougher than usual, "Was I asleep for a long time?"

"Not for a long time. Maybe an hour."

"Where were you?" he asks, tightening his fingers around your hand.

"I had a meeting with Jenna. You slept through it."

"I'm so tired..." He breathes the words out, the exhaustion clear in his voice.

This is not normal tiredness. You've seen him all sorts of tired; from falling asleep mid-conversation to actually sleeping while standing up. But this is clearly something different, and the impossible idea that Xavier, untouchable and indestructible, might actually be ill solidifies in your mind.

"I think you're sick," You say dumbly, stating the obvious.

"Not sick," he mumbles, "just tired."

You stare at him for a long moment as he closes his eyes again, noting the shivers wracking his body. He is most definitely sick - you're just not sure how sick. Fevered, definitely. You don't need a medical degree to know that.

Even half asleep, he seems to sense your movement as you rise from the bed, his fingers tightening around your hand instinctively.

"Don't leave me," he begs, his tone needy and urgent. "You can't ever leave me again. Please. I'll do anything."

You freeze with your hips hovering above the edge of the bed, the desperation in his voice holding you to the spot. When your eyes land on his, the pain you see there is confusing and heartbreaking. Why is he looking at you like that? What is he talking about? You can't recall a single time you've ever left him, but he's looking at you like he's terrified going to disappear.

"Xav, I'm not leaving." You say softly, sitting back down on the bed, confusion and concern warring in your mind.

"Good," Xavier says softly, the tension straining his neck and shoulders relaxing at your words. "I missed you so much. I didn't know if I'd ever see you again."

His tone is genuine and he looks relieved that you're no longer pulling away, but it only serves to make you feel more confused. He is acting like you were gone for years rather than an hour. You're still trying to wrap your mind around his words as his grip on your hand loosens and he falls back into a fitful sleep.

It's worse than you thought, you realize. He's not making any sense - remembering something that doesn't have anything to do with you. Jealousy burns in your chest as it occurs to you that maybe those words are meant for someone else - some other girl he's so afraid of losing - but you push the thought aside. The only thing that matters right now is taking care of him.

You gently pull your hand free from his grasp, careful not to wake him, and stand from the bed. His eyes snap open at the loss of contact, and you interrupt him before he can speak, "I'll be right back. I'm just going to check your temperature, okay? Hold on a sec."

You rush toward the bathroom, trying to ignore the way he whimpers your name as you slip out of the bedroom. Anxiety gnaws at you, a tight knot in your stomach, as you wonder what the hell is going on. Is he hallucinating? Is that typical for a fever? It doesn’t seem like it—not with any fevers you've ever had, at least.

Your breaths are shaky as you scrabble around the bathroom cabinet, unsure if you even own a thermometer. Neither of you had a lot of time to prepare for this trip, and it's unlikely either of you would have thought to bring one. However, luck is on your side as you find one jammed into the corner with the bandaids. You're not even sure where it came from, but its origin is the least of your worries at the moment.

The anxiety is starting to feel a bit more like panic as Xavier's words replay in your mind, and you resist the urge to consult doctor Google. There's a better option, and he is just a text away.

You: Can a fever cause hallucinations?

A few moments pass, and you check the time, realizing that it's early afternoon and Zayne is probably working. It's selfish to think that he would ever be at your beck and call; he could be elbow deep in someone's chest right now. But your phone reliably buzzes in your hand seconds later.

Zayne: Are you ill? Send me your address. I'll come now.

You: No I'm fine! But I think my partner is really sick. He has a fever. I think he's hallucinating.

Zayne: Hallucination is not uncommon with high fevers. What is his temperature?

You: Uhh...I don't know yet.

Zayne: Don't you think that might be useful information?

You: I'm working on it!

Zayne: Fever in adults is rarely cause for concern and is best treated at home.

You: Oh ok. What should I do?

Zayne: Acetaminophen every 4-6 hours will suffice. Proper hydration is also helpful.

You: Thank you Dr. Zayne! I don't know what I would do without you.

Zayne: It's better for both of us to never find out.

You smile briefly at his response - his wry dedication, and slip your phone back into your pocket. You snag the Tylenol from the top shelf, and jog back into the bedroom with both items in hand. Xavier is still lying in the same spot, and the relief on his face is clear the moment he sees you.

"You came back."

"Of course I came back, Xav," You soothe him, sitting on the edge of the bed, showing him the thermometer and the medicine.

His eyes are focused only on yours, as if the contents of your hands don’t exist, and he grasps your thigh in his palm. "I won't let you go. Not this time. I'll stay here with you."

His lucidity right now is questionable, but that knowledge doesn't stop the ache his words cause in your chest. Whatever he is hallucinating is torturing him, and the anguish and devotion shining in his eyes is hard to look at. A dozen questions burn your throat, but you swallow them—pressing for details might only make whatever he's hallucinating feel more real.

"No one is going anywhere, bunny. I promise," You say, guiding the thermometer to his mouth. "Open up for me."

He obediently parts his lips, allowing you to slide the thermometer in, and you hold your breath as you wait for the results. The moment stretches, each passing second causing the knot in your stomach to tighten. After what feels like a small eternity, the thermometer finally emits a series of sharp beeps.

103 degrees Fahrenheit. Shit. This is bad. You already knew it was bad, but this confirms it.

"Xav, I think you need to go to the hospital. Like right now."

He glances at the thermometer and groans softly. "Could've been worse," he mumbles. "I don't need to go to the hospital. It's just a fever."

He is not in a position to know what he needs right now, and your instincts scream that you should ignore him. But Zayne made it seem like this was not such a big deal, and he has yet to ever be wrong. You trust him with your life and, apparently, Xavier's life, too.

"Alright, no hospital. Yet. Can you take these pills for me?" You ask, reaching for the glass of water already sitting on his bedside table.

It's a struggle for him to sit up, and he clutches his head like he's dizzy as he leans back against the headboard. He swallows the pills you press into his mouth with a grimace, then pats the bed beside him.

"Come here."

Lying in bed with someone so fevered that they're not functional is a horrible idea, you know. But the need in his voice is hard to resist, and it would be impossible to deny him anything when he's looking at you like that. Against your better judgment and Dr. Zayne's voice in the back of your mind, you hesitantly slip under the blanket and into bed beside him, leaving as much room between the two of you as possible.

"No, come closer," he says, pulling you forward by your waist with strength you weren't expecting.

He sighs contentedly as you press close, as if the simple act of holding you brings him relief. His arms tighten around you, his forehead resting gently against yours, and it’s instantly clear—even through your clothes—that he’s burning up. Holding him feels like hugging a furnace.

"Your forehead feels pretty cold," He laughs softly. "It might help my temperature go down."

You huff a small laugh, "Just rest, okay? Close your eyes. The medicine will start working soon."

He cups your face as he pulls back to look at you, his fingers burning into your skin. His eyes are uncertain and he searches your face as if trying to memorize it, "You won't leave me, right? I don't know if I can find you again. But I would never stop looking."

The way he says it, so filled with doubt and longing, is nearly unbearable to hear. He says it so brokenly and honestly that it feels like more than just delirium; like he means it more than he has ever meant anything. It's a truth you don't understand, but you believe him.

"Never," You whisper, covering his hand on your cheek with your own. "You're stuck with me forever now. I'm not leaving."

He smiles, the worry fading from his expression as he sinks back into the pillows and closes his eyes. His hand slips down to rest on your neck, his thumb gently tracing along your jawline before he goes still. He drifts back to sleep instantly, his breathing evening out and softening.

You hold him for a long time, counting each of his breaths to try to distract yourself from your tangled thoughts. None of his words made any sense, but they were spoken so genuinely and earnestly that you cannot get them out of your head. He's terrified of losing you, but he has never had you more completely. Why was he so scared? What memory was haunting him? You could spend every moment for the next year trying to figure it out, and probably still be wrong.

You want to ask him—you need to know. He might actually tell you right now, something he’d never reveal if he were fully himself. Could this be the secret he guards so fiercely? This isn't just the rambling of a fever dream; there’s something real beneath it. He spoke as if remembering a mistake, as if he were making a promise. A promise not to leave again. But when had he ever left you? Is that promise for someone else?

The heat radiating from his body is almost overwhelming beneath the blanket and his body trembles against yours as the fever burns through him. He feels damp everywhere you're pressed together, and every small, rattling cough that leaves his mouth jostles you slightly. But still - it's him - your home. And the steady, strong rhythm of his heartbeat under your ear is familiar and comforts your conflicted thoughts. The choice to question him or not is made for you as his warmth and steady pulse lull you to sleep.

By the time you wake, the rain has stopped, and you’re drenched in sweat—whether it’s yours or Xavier’s, you’re not sure. He’s still asleep beside you, breathing steadily, and when you press the back of your hand to his forehead, it’s cooler to the touch.

The medicine must be working. Thank God. Zayne was right. When is he not?

As you pull your hand away, Xavier stirs, his eyes fluttering open slowly. Relief floods through you as his gaze, though tired, appears sharper and more alert. His eyes find yours with surprising clarity, and a gentle, lazy smile spreads across his face. He’s back, you think—fully himself again.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better. Much better. I’m fine now." He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You've always had a healing effect on me, didn't you know?"

You roll your eyes at his playful remark, but the knot of worry in your stomach finally relaxes. He must be better—he’s feeling well enough to flirt.

“You are not fine,” you counter, brushing his sweaty hair back from his forehead, still warm to the touch. “I’ll decide when you’re fine. You’re my patient now.”

"I'm okay with this," he answers agreeably, leaning into the press of your hand. His eagerness for your touch reminds you of a happy dog, craving every bit of affection it can get.

"Have you eaten today? You've been asleep for a while now. Do you think you could eat something?"

"Since I'm your patient and you're taking care of me, you decide. What will you prepare for me? Chocolate mousse? Braised short ribs?"

You snort at his suggestions, disentangling yourself from his arms. Of course those would be his requests; he is definitely back to the Xavier you know and love.

Love, that's right. You love him. Not sort of. Not kind of. Not maybe. You do.

"I don't think so, mister." You answer, trying to refocus your thoughts. "Is that what you normally have when you're sick?"

His brows draw together as he thinks for a moment. "This rarely happens. I don't remember what I had last time."

"I was thinking something more along the lines of chicken soup and honey lemon tea."

You ignore his groan of protest as you climb out of the bed, deftly evading the hands that are reluctant to let you leave. The air feels cool against your damp skin, and you shiver slightly as you head into the kitchen. Your thoughts whir as you look through the cabinets and set the kettle to boil.

You love him, and he's keeping something from you, and your life with him here isn't even real whilst also being the only future that you can imagine for yourself. 

Your hands shake slightly as you heat the soup on the stove, and it takes more concentration than it should to pour the tea without spilling it everywhere.

He must love you, too. There is not a universe that exists in which he does not love you, you think. But he is hiding something from you, that much is obvious. You have always sensed it without knowing what it was, and it stands between you like a ghost - invisible but haunting him. The love that he seems to feel for you shines in every look and rings true in every word, but it's incomplete somehow. It's as if there's something, or someone (your mind cruelly suggests), already occupying the space in his heart that you so badly want to fill.

Your hands stop trembling and your racing thoughts begin to slow and settle as you carry his tray back into the bedroom a few minutes later. Now isn't the time to interrogate him, you decide. That's not what he wants, and you're not sure you're ready to hear the truth. You'll exorcize that ghost eventually.

Besides, do the answers even matter if he's not ready to give them yet?

"Here, sit up," you tell him, placing his tray of food and drink on the bedside table as you cross the room. You reach over and prop the pillows against the headboard so he can lean back on them and he eagerly lets you position him however you please.

He sips his tea and eats his soup with none of his usual fervor, but he looks slightly better, definitely more alert and present. From the edge of the bed, you watch him closely, eyes darting over the lingering flush in his cheeks, scanning for any hint that things might still be as serious as you feared. But when he sets the bowl aside and gives you a soft, sheepish smile, some of the tension coiled tightly in your back begins to ease.

"I gave you quite the scare today, huh?"

"That is...an understatement," You laugh, knowing he has no idea just how worried you actually were. "How are you feeling?"

“The medicine helped, but I still feel awful. What should I do?" he asks, his voice soft and pitiful, as he shifts to lie back down on the bed.

Despite his words and tone, there's a hint of playfulness in his expression—his lips are pouted, plump and full, and his eyes have an unmistakably hopeful look in them. 

It’s obvious that he’s feeling a bit better if he has the energy to pout, and he's clearly up to something. 

You scoot forward and reach out to feel his forehead, which is still warm but no longer scalding. "Hmm. You're still kind of warm, Xav. Maybe a cold compress might help. Like a damp towel?"

"A damp towel?" He repeats, as if it is the worst idea he has ever heard. "No, I don't need that."

"Uh, what about more tea then?"

He shakes his head, his pout becoming more pronounced. "No, not tea either."

"Should I take your temperature again?" You offer.

He fixes you with an unimpressed look and shakes his head again.

"I'm not a very good nurse. You're my first patient," you admit with a small laugh. "I suck at this."

His pout curls up into a smile, and you can see the gears whirring to life behind his eyes before the words even make it to his mouth.

"Caring for me isn't that hard." He says, shifting to scoot over in the bed and patting the spot beside him. "You can do anything to take care of me, like keeping me warm."

"Are you cold?" You ask skeptically.

He nods, a smile starting to form on his lips before he schools his face back into a pout, "Uh huh. I feel cold all of a sudden. Maybe the blanket is too thin or maybe I'm still really sick..."

He shuffles the blankets around helplessly before reaching for you, "Do you want to lie down next to me? I'm ill, so I don't have the strength to do anything..."

You have to fight a smile as you disapprovingly raise an eyebrow at his last comment. It's such an obvious ploy, but it's also just pathetic enough that you cannot find it in your heart to resist him.

"Fine," you mutter, but a smile twitches at the corner of your lips, betraying your amusement, as you slip into the bed beside him. His hand is on your waist firmly tugging you closer the moment the blankets settle against your skin.

"Oh, what's this?" You laugh against his chest. "I thought you didn't have the strength to do anything?"

"You were so far away," he replies, gently stroking your hair. "I couldn't feel your warmth. You have to help me recharge."

You hum in acknowledgement, wrapping an arm around his chest. "How's this then? Warmer now?"

He nuzzles his face against your hair and places a kiss against the top of your head, "I do feel warmer now...but it's not enough."

"No?"

You feel him shake his head, and in an instant, he rolls the two of you over, pressing your back into the mattress as he braces his arms on either side of you, settling his weight on top of you.

“If I hold you like this…” he says, nudging your thighs apart with his knees, “it’ll definitely be warmer.”

"Will it?" You ask softly, biting your bottom lip as you look up at him, uncertain of how far you should let him get away with this while he's still sick.

"And if we get closer," he whispers, lowering his weight on top of you, pinning you beneath him. "I'll be able to recover even faster."

The press of his body against yours is warm, but no longer sweltering like it was hours ago. And as he shifts his hips against yours, a new kind of heat ignites low in your belly as you feel the thick length of him pressing against you. This feels like such a good bad idea, but you know you should stop him. He can't have recovered this quickly.

You reluctantly fix him with a stern look, and try to squirm out from under him. "Xav, now is not the time. You were delirious a few hours ago."

"Please," He begs, grabbing your hips firmly with both hands, refusing to let you slip away. "Let me get closer to you."

His plea is filled with desperation and longing, and his soft kisses against your neck are making you forget why exactly you thought this was a bad idea. When his lips find yours, his kiss is so unbelievably filled with need that you melt into it instantly, parting your lips for him without hesitation. A groan catches in his throat as he deepens the kiss and slides his tongue against yours.

"I need you closer," He whispers against your mouth, sliding his hands under your shirt. His fingers tremble against your skin as he cups your breasts through your bra and rocks his hips against yours. His touch is rough and uncoordinated, lacking his usual finesse in his effort to feel more of you.

“So needy,” you tease, watching him lean back to pull off his shirt before quickly covering your body with his, as if he can’t bear to be apart from you for even a moment.

"I'm so much needier than you think," He admits, burying his face in your neck. "I always need you like this."

"Like this?" You ask, rolling your hips to meet his and moaning at the friction against your core.

“Yeah,” he groans, his hand slipping from beneath your shirt to glide down your stomach, slowly sliding into the waistband of your leggings. “Like this.”

Your pussy aches with desire as you realize where his hand is headed, and you use the very last of your resolve to grasp his wrist. Your breathing sounds harsh in your ears as you look up at him and gasp out, "Wait, Xav. As your nurse, I have to tell you to stop. You're still sick. You should be resting."

"My nurse?" He repeats, shaking his head and leaning down to kiss you. "I don't need a nurse right now. I need my girlfriend."

His words are a shock to your system, and your fingers on his wrist loosen on their own. His girlfriend. Is that what you are? You'd danced around it for days now, but neither of you had put a label on anything. You'd been waiting - hoping he might ask. Hoping he might give you some indication that your relationship could go on beyond the bounds of this assignment.

“Am I your girlfriend?” You ask breathlessly, a moan escaping your lips as his hand slides under your panties, his fingers finding your slick clit and circling it slowly.

His fingers pause as he registers your question, and his expression morphs from hunger into adorable confusion, his brows knitting together, "Of course. You're mine, aren't you?"

There’s a hint of vulnerability in his voice, but the possessive look in his eyes erases any doubt from your mind. There was never any uncertainty for him, you realize. There was no need for a conversation because you'd belonged to him from the first moment he kissed you - maybe even longer.

"Yes," you answer, more certain than you've ever been in your life. "I'm yours."

[quietly-sleeping]

Sqh and sy as an established couple in their og world. System pulls an uh oh, since their world isn't following what it was supposed to to allow for sqh and sy to be pulled for plot maintenance. Decides to dump the peak lords into their living room and tell them, hey fix them? Maybe? Idk.

Sqh and sy have a minor panic attack because that is just a group of sqhs traumatized ocs, sy drags the system into another room for a talk. Sqh stares down the peak lords with pure "what even is my life" and kind of manages to talk enough with yqy that sy comes back and explains better what's going on.

System wants sqh and sy to do some emergency therapy essentially, and sy has bullshit it so that the peak lords will be returned to their world at the end of the month no matter what.

Peak lords are iffy, qi is very sparse in this world, and they need to be back at cqm for it to run and not be turned into a demon fun house. Sy assures them the system has allowed for no time to pass in pidw while they stay with sqh and sy.

Sj does not believe him, insists on speaking with the weird god thing himself. Gets to basically the same point with the system but wiggles area for negotiation for compensation for both parties once this is over. Sy declares he needs a goddamn nap, hands over some of his classic novels laying around, some of his clean romances, and points them to the indoor gym on their floor.

Sqh goes to take nap with his bf/husband, doesn't really matter, while the peak lords kick their feet for a bit. Sj is hella confused as to why some rich people, he assumes so since they are in a very tall building with a very spacious living quarters, would just let some randoms wander around in their house unsupervised.

They really wouldn't, but sy has used all of his brain power with the system and the sudden addition of like 8 ppl in his living room, and he wants to cuddle his bf, sue him.

Peak lords fuck around a bit, lqg chills out in the gym for a while, they don't have a lot of weights but more cardio machines and room for mats and ballet bars, lqg just uses his sword and goes through some forms, the other peak lords following him since getting separated in a strange world is not the thing to do.

Sy eventually wakes up and sqh helps him sleepily slap together something to eat while they figure out what the fuck to do. They eventually decide that since sy technically owns the building and they are the only occupants of the floor, to just let the peak Lords live in the other apartments. They aren't completely furnished, bare minimum, but they can get blankets and such if they need them.

The peak Lords don't really have an opinion since, they can't afford to have one any way they don't know shit about this place.

Uuuuh more things happen, bonding, forced proximity, system events such as not being able to lie for 24 hrs, to which sj stretches to the limit with the help of og!sqh, and like eventually they negotiate limit travel between worlds and such because like no, sj has attachment issues that he passes down onto bing-ge he's not about to let the one guy and his weird husband go just because they live in a different world, take notes yqy.

Og!sqh is like pre treason or something. Lbh has not yet touched down on qjp, and qqq is 100% attempting to get sy's meimei to join her peak.

Sy's meimei barged into the apartments while the peak Lords were having mandatory bookclub and introduced them to TV dramas. Lqg is hooked, because he can do things!! While listening to the plot!!

[bullet-prooflove]

If you’re still open to writing for Douglas Hamilton:

“You lean in closer and my heart starts to pound”

Tagging: @kmc1989 @lucymalfoy18 @ashrionest @mimi-8793 @glamourous-eloquence

Companion piece to:

Mississippi Meanders - Douglas doesn't expect to meet the love of his life.

Your first date takes place surrounded by a myriad of art supplies. Douglas is standing amidst the mess with his sleeves rolled up and his hands on his hips as he surveys the task at hand.

These, you think, are the moments his PR person should be documenting. The ones where he’s genuinely immersed in the community instead off the staged bullshit she puts together.

It’s been a couple of days since the two of you ran into each other during another charity event. You’d given your number to Douglas last month and not heard a thing from him, you didn’t understand why.

“Why didn’t you call?” You’d asked him when you’d found yourself standing beside him at the bar.

“Because you were too good to be true.” He’d told you frankly.

Its in that moment you gain an insight into the Mayor that you’ve never really considered. Douglas, he comes from a world where everyone is vying for his attention, his favour. Every single one of them takes from him, but they never give. You can’t imagine what that must do to a person’s psyche.

“I could list some faults if you’d like.” You’d suggested as you’d taken a sip from your drink. “Take a step down off that pedestal you’ve put me on.”

He’d laughed then, not that wry chuckle he usually does to appease a constituent but a real one, one that comes from somewhere deep down in his chest. He relaxes after that, you can see the pressure of his position slip away and for a moment he’s just Douglas, the man, not the Mayor.

It’s the appearance of Martha, his PR person that changes things again. She appears by his side, taking his arm, drawing him away and he sighs before he casts you a longing look.

You don’t expect to see him again after that, his mind seemed made up when it came to the nature of your relationship and there’s no point chasing someone who doesn’t want to be caught.  

When he turns up at the museum the next day you’re surprised. You’re setting up for a kids art program you’ve been running the last few weeks, clad in jeans and an old t-shirt that declares your love for Frida Kahlo instead of your usual power dress and high heels.

“I thought we could have lunch together.” He declares, leaving his entourage at the door and you gesture to the space around you regretfully.

“What if I helped you?” He’d asked you, already stripping out of his jacket. “We can eat after?”

“I’d like that.” You tell him before you get to work.

It’s a quicker and easier task with the two of you working on it. You finish up with thirty minutes to spare and find yourself sitting on the sensory blanket you’ve laid on the floor eating sushi with the Mayor.

“What changed your mind about me?” You ask him, setting the empty tray aside and popping the complimentary mint in your mouth.

“I made a list of your faults.” He teases you as he sets his own meal aside. “Honestly though it was the fact you say what’s on your mind. I never have to second guess what you’re thinking, or look for the barb in the nicety. You’re upfront and I like that, it’s rare in my world.”

“It’s rare in my world too, there’s a lot of subtext in the art world.” You tell him as you organise the litter into a neat pile. “It’s exhausting.”

“It is.” He agrees, his elbows coming to rest upon his knees as he studies the mobile above him. It’s one the kids have made out of coloured tissue paper, glue and glittery string. “The reason I got into politics was because of programs like this, my home life wasn’t exactly stable growing up and art was great outlet for me to vent some of the stress I was feeling. It was something I could lose myself in when…”

He stops himself then because he doesn’t do this. He doesn’t talk about the past, about the fact his father, a well-respected police man used to beat the hell out of him and his mother.

“…When you didn’t have a safe space.” You finish and he inclines his head, neither confirming or denying your summation. “I get that, art for me was…”

It’s at that second that the clack of high heels on tile interrupts you because Martha the PR Rep is back, already moving him on to his next appointment. He sighs remorsefully as he raises to his feet, helping you to your own.

“Don’t let yourself lose that safe space.” You tell him as you raise up on tiptoes and kiss his cheek. “No matter how busy you get.”

It’s later that evening he calls you, you’re just closing up the museum, when your phone rings with an unknown number.

“Hello?” You say as you cradle the phone against your shoulder whilst attempting to twist your keys in the lock.

“Have dinner with me tomorrow night.” He requests and you can hear the vulnerability in his tone. “Maybe we can talk about safe spaces some more.”

Love Douglas? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[klausinamarink]

Easy Promises

rating: T | cw: cancer, mentioned child abuse | tags: pre-relationship, Steve has good parents, childhood friends, reunion, Theodore is Eddie’s full name agenda | wc: 956

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | Dec 14: Angst with happy ending

When Steve was eleven, he was told that he was going to die. Naturally, he burst into tears. His mother immediately pulled him to her chest, shushing him gently while his father yelled at their doctor.

“He’s just a child!”

“It’s important for your son to know that leukemia isn’t possible to survive-”

“Bullshit!”

Steve cried harder in his mother’s arms, even after they left the office.

Back home, his mother knelt down, looked Steve in the eye, and said, “You are going to live, baby. You are still going to grow up to be a smart, healthy man. You will fight that cancer and live.”

It was easy to make a promise. It was harder to follow through it.

After the urgent move to Indianapolis, Steve’s days fell into a blur of check-ups, medicine, throwing up, and exhaustion. He spent more days at the hospital than at his new school. He wasn’t sure which place was worse. The clinical words and smells with thin blankets and more sick children like him or the classrooms where apologetic teachers gave him too many lavish gifts while the other kids avoided him.

But there was one boy who declared himself as Steve’s buddy. Steve thought he would hate Theodore Munson, but he didn’t. Theodore (“Just Teddy! My full name makes me feel like I’m Roosevelt.”) never stared at Steve or asked about his leukemia or poked at his thin arms. Instead, Teddy always asked how his day went and listened to every word, even if it was a foggy repetition of hospital visits. If Steve said he was tired, Teddy never announced it to their teachers and just silently offered some cookies or juice under their desks. During recess and lunch, Teddy sat next to him and spoke excitedly about the new comics or movies Steve never had the chance to check himself.

It was always nice listening to Teddy talk. Way better than a doctor reading his statistics aloud like it was an eulogy.

When the chemotherapy inevitably snuck into his schedule, Steve cried and begged everyone to keep his hair. He was already The Kid With Cancer. He didn’t want his hair shaved off.

Nobody listened to him.

A couple days later, Steve wore a Reds cap. He refused to wear the knitted wool hat his Nana had made for him like he was five again. That would just push his classmates into bullying him for real.

He came to school late, not wanting to join the student crowd. He stopped when he saw Teddy sitting on the steps, his shaven head in his arms.

For a second, Steve thought that Teddy somehow knew and wanted to shave his hair in solidarity. And then Teddy looked up and he saw a nasty black eye. They stared at each other for a long time until both of their eyes welled up in tears.

“Your hair’s gone.” Teddy said wetly after they ran into each other for a hug.

“So ‘s yours.” Steve sniffs, daring himself to pat the buzzed scalp.

“My dad got mad last night.”

Teddy told him about his dad enough that his muffled words made Steve tighten his grip. “At least you’re not dying.”

Teddy barked out a wet laugh, “Just don’t leave me first.”

It was an easy promise to accept. Except it was already broken when Teddy never showed at school the next day. And then Steve was alone again.

—

I’m in remission. I still have a future. I’m going to live. Steve repeated that mantra to himself in his car, staring from afar at the ominous entrance of Hawkins High.

It had been a good year and a half since the doctors finally gave the good news. Steve was always a crier, but he’d only stared up at the ceiling in silent disbelief while his parents wept joyfully. The news never really hit him until two months later, when he touched an inch of new hair in the bathroom, and then sobbed and thanked God for letting him live.

Even if that little what if it comes back lingered in the back of his mind.

Now, he was thrown back to Hawkins, which included starting his sophomore year in person.

But old habits still stayed. Steve kept seated in his car and watched the other students walk inside while they laughed with healthy smiles. Even after the bell rang, he stayed. After a good five minutes, Steve’s courage returned and he stepped out.

He only took three steps when a van suddenly appeared, scaring the shit out of him with a blaring honk. Steve jumped back and flipped the driver off. “Watch it, asshole!” He stomped away, his mood broken further by the van’s door opening. Great, now he’s gonna be in a shouting match in front of the school-

“Steve?”

He froze. Turned around slowly.

Teddy, all dressed in some dark clothes with long hair. Teddy, who stared back at him with wide eyes. Teddy, Teddy, Teddy-

Steve wasn’t sure who ran towards the other first, but it was Steve who hugged the tightest and cried first.

“Holy shit,” Teddy laughed wetly in his ear, “Your hair-” He leaned away so his hands were placed on both sides of Steve’s head. They felt warm and oddly right. “You look so much healthier…”

Steve just smiled, a little blush in his cheeks as he said, “I got better.” He watched as the realization dropped on Teddy in real time. Then he was pulled into a more tighter and fiercer hug, already feeling a wet patch on his shoulder.

There were definitely lots of things they needed to catch up on. But Steve’s more contempt in sharing his warmth with his friend.

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Bat

Once again got inspired by art. #NotSorry. Set post-game. Agnetha sees a white bat flying around...and wonders why it's squeaking at her. SFW.

Agnetha Wildheart screamed when she saw the white bat flying extremely badly in her and Astarion’s suite at Wildheart Manor. While their new home was being repaired (it’s a larger house overlooking Gray Harbor that sustained some damage when we fought the Netherbrain---it was Astarion’s favorite that we saw) and his tailor shop being built (on the site of my and Nadia’s house that was destroyed during the final battle), they were staying at Wildheart Manor. In my old suite that I had growing up and before I moved in with Nadia. It’s nice to be home, but I can’t wait to be in our home.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH FUCKING HELLS! IT’S A BAT!”

The bat squeaked insistently.

Wait, is it…trying to look me in the eye? And it keeps trying to land on my tits?

She held out her hands in front of her ample chest, and the bat collapsed in a very cute heap.

“SQUEAK! Squeak!!!!”

Uhhhhh…okay. She shook her head. “Sorry, little one. I don’t think I have a Potion of Animal Speaking on me—oh hold on, yes I do!” Walking to her alchemy table, she placed the bat down and found the potion she was looking for. “One moment, sweetie.” She drank the potion and immediately heard a familiar voice.

“DARLING!!! My love! Look! Look what I did!!!” The bat that was indeed Astarion squeaked happily. “I can change shape!”

Agnetha blinked several times at her fiancée. He’s a fucking bat. He’s literally a bat. On my table. He’s a bat on my table. “So, how did you change shape?” What sort of magic bullshit did he get himself into this time?

Astarion flapped his wings. Like he’s excited. Aww, he’s so cute. I should pick him up again. “Oh sweetness, please do carry me around, right against your chest. It’s s-so wonderful, darling.” That was the cutest fucking squeak-yawn I’ve ever heard. “But to answer your question…I’m not sure. I was reading about spawns who managed to break free from their masters---not many of those---and it seems some developed some abilities that a full-blooded vampire has.” He nuzzled his head on the top of her cleavage. “And I thought, ‘What if I changed into a bat?’ And then IT HAPPENED!”

She giggled, supporting his soooooo tiny body with one arm and rubbing circles on her head with her other hand. “You sure you’re not a latent sorcerer, love?”

“No, I most certainly am not! Ooh darling, that feels amazing. Don’t stop. Please.” She changed from his head to taking a small brush (an extra toothbrush from the Elfsong) on his back, and he was like putty in her hand. “Lower, dear. Lower.” He moaned softly. Oh gods, what if—

She began to brush lightly on his behind, earning her an ungodly moan-squeak from Astarion. “You like that?” Awwww his little bum is wiggling! He’s so fucking cute right now that I can’t bloody stand it.

Astarion bit back another moan and cleared his throat. “I’m declaring at least an hour per day to bat time and having this very special treatment. We simply must do this every day.”

She chuckled softly, now focusing on the other side of his cute little bum! Awww! “I think that can be arranged. You’re feeling alright though, love? No lingering effects?” When I’ve accidentally polymorphed in the past, I always felt nauseous.

“No, darling. I’m fine. Don’t worry. You worry too much as it is!” Of course I do! I’m taking a very active role in running the shop and setting things up, overseeing repairs on our home, and trying to find a way for you to walk in the sun again!!! It’s a lot! He nuzzled her softness. “Gods, you’re so warm, my love…”

Putting the brush down, she kissed the top of his very little head. “Do you want me to lie down and pull on a blanket? You’ll be nice and toasty that way, Star.”

He nodded. “Yes…yes please, my little butter bun…”

When I asked him why ‘my little butter bun’ he said it’s because I’m hot, soft, and delicious. He may have been drunk off bear again. Kicking off her shoes, she pulled the covers off and got into their bed with Astarion faceplanted in her plush chest. As she pulled them back up, he was as relaxed as she had ever seen him. “You okay?”

“Perfect, my sweet…you’re so, so warm…and soft…” He sighed into her chest as she rubbed his head with a finger. “And delicious!” He playfully brushed a fang against the top of her breast, and she lightly bonked his head with a grin.

“Excuse you! Dinner is later, love. If you want a little snack now, you can have some from my finger.” Oh my gods, that’ll be so cute. “Naughty little bat.” My naughty little bat. Mine for as long as he wishes.

He let out a contented squeak. “In a little while, sweetness. Want to savor this…”

Agnetha was not sure when she fell asleep but woke a few hours later with her naughty little bat snoring and purring exactly where she left him.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Rob Rogers, TinyView.com

* * * *

High road? What fucking high road.

When they go low, we use every bloody weapon in our arsenal

Lucian K. Truscott IV

Dec 03, 2024

President Biden has pardoned his son Hunter, explaining in a letter that “raw politics” had influenced his son’s prosecution and led to a “miscarriage of justice.”

The raw politics of Washington D.C. as we head into another four years of rule by Donald Trump involves pre-planned miscarriage of justice. The Project 2025 plan that Trump claimed he had nothing to do with – before appointing four of its authors to his Cabinet – has an entire section devoted to exacting revenge on political opponents of Trump.

It is a cliché to say that the gloves are off, but that is the situation Donald Trump has purposefully created. He has threatened to investigate and prosecute anyone who was ever involved in investigating and prosecuting him. That would include Robert Mueller and his entire team of investigators and federal prosecutors. Of course, special counsel Jack Smith and his entire office, which includes FBI investigators and federal prosecutors, some of whom came out of retirement to work on the Trump investigation, are on Trump’s list for retribution. Kash Patel, Trump’s prospective FBI Director, has given several interviews about his plans to investigate anyone who has ever so much as picked up a pencil to bother his master.

Joe Biden has his work cut out for him. He should empower an entire staff in the White House to begin working on blanket pardons for all the people mentioned above, plus members of the House of Representatives and the Senate who were involved in the two Trump impeachments and the House January 6 Committee.

The Biden pardon team should also take a serious look at the many reporters, columnists, and television news hosts who have stood up to Trump over the last eight years. That is another long list of people that Donald Trump has threatened to prosecute for simply doing their jobs as reporters, commentators, and cable news hosts.

That old aphorism “when they go low, we go high” was bullshit when it entered the political lexicon, and it’s a guarantee of a prison sentence at this point. There is no high road in the age of Donald Trump and his MAGA team of toadies and lackeys who are sworn to carry out the campaign of retribution Trump demands.

The Democratic Party isn’t just a political party anymore. It is an association of Americans who are under attack merely for their political beliefs. Loyalty to the Constitution and swearing to uphold its rights and guarantees of freedom has been turned into a crime by Donald Trump. People like Elon Musk and Leonard Leo are probably adding names to the list of enemies they would like to see behind bars for committing various “crimes” that aren’t crimes at all.

Nobody is safe. Trump has promised to build internment camps for undocumented immigrants he has declared war against. You won’t have to lack an American passport or work permit to be ushered into the walls of those camps once they’re built.

Trump has gone to war against the America we have known. We don’t need to ask ourselves what this country has done to deserve the war Trump has planned against us. Biden needs to deploy his pardon power as a weapon in that war, and the Democratic Party needs to start recruiting not only followers but fighters. This is going to be an ugly four years, and it is way past time to prepare ourselves.

[strawheart-pirate]

Comfort

Portgas D. Ace x gn!Reader

December 9th 2023 Words: 857 CW: modern AU / SFW / non/pre relationship, insecurities, fluff and comfort

Every Saturday before Christmas, you have a movie marathon with your best friend Ace. You went over to his place and were ready for a cozy and fun evening.

"Out of the way, Ace!" As soon as you took off your jacket and shoes, you ran to the fireplace to warm your frozen feet and hands. The heat instantly drove away the cold and a cozy warmth crept into your bones. You sighed happily and Ace laughed as he sat down on the couch.

"It's not that cold outside, you know..." He teased you with a sly grin.

"It's freezing! The roads are a mess, you can literally skate on them! Just because you seem to have a higher resistance to the cold..." You shook your head in disbelief. That man just never gets cold. When everyone else is bundled up in thick jackets and scarves, he still wears T-shirts.

Ace laughed and walked over to you with a blanket. "Come on, let's wrap you up nice and tight for our movie marathon."

You walked over to the couch and he wrapped you in your favorite blanket. Once he was sure you were comfortable, he went to the kitchen to get the hot chocolate and marshmallows he had already made.

"Oh wow, I could get used to your service. Thanks." I chuckled softly and took my drink from his hands.

"Just don't tell my brothers." We both giggled and he made himself comfortable on the couch as well. He grabbed the remote and flipped through the various Christmas movies. "So what do you want to watch first?"

"How about we start with 'Love Actually'?

"Alright, here we go." Ace started the movie and you both sipped your hot chocolate as the movie held your attention. This movie was one of the classics of your annual Christmas movie marathons.

You were halfway through the movie when a question popped into your head.

"Ace? Am I lovable?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Ever since the holidays began, you've felt incomplete. Like it's Christmas and you need a partner. And it's not that you didn't want a relationship, you just wanted something serious and not just a situationship.

He put his hot chocolate on the table and turned to you with a serious look on his face. "What?"

"I mean... I've been single for so long now, no one has shown any serious interest in me, even though we've been out almost every weekend trying to find your special someone or mine. What's wrong with me? Do I stink? You would tell me if I did, wouldn't you? I just don't get it and it's frustrating. Especially at Christmas..."

"Do you know how many times I've asked myself the same question? Ever since my father left me..." He was silent for a second and you realized your mistake. You knew about his past and the struggle to be lovable, even to be allowed to live....

"I'm sorry. I... I didn't mean to..." You put your own hot chocolate on the table and silently put a hand on his.

"It's okay. It's not about me this time, and I don't want to talk about my old man anyway." He smiled at you reassuringly. "It's about you, and I'm sorry, but what you're saying is bullshit. You are lovable. I really love you very much. You don't stink and you're not weird... most of the time..."

"Hey, I'm not weird!" You pouted and hit him with a pillow, but as soon as he grinned, you both laughed and his mission to make you smile was successful.

"That's right, you're the weirdest, and I'm your handsome sidekick." He declared proudly, and another pillow hit his head. The situation escalated quickly and you both threw pillows and wrestled on the couch until he was on top of you, holding your wrists above your head. He grinned, knowing he had won. He made no move to get up, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"Look, I think you're a smart and good-looking person. Anyone who doesn't honestly see that doesn't deserve you. And don't let society fool you. You don't need a partner to have a merry Christmas." He smiled a genuine smile at you and rolled to the side when he saw you taking in his words.

A smile formed on your face and your doubts were gone. You were thankful to have a friend like Ace. "You're the best, Ace." You took the blanket and wrapped the two of you in it as you gave Ace a warm hug. You sighed happily as you snuggled together.

"That's exactly what I am." He grinned. "Should we continue the movie or watch something else?"

"Let's watch something else. I'm sick of romance movies." I chuckled and laid my head on his chest.

Ace smiled softly and started 'The Grinch'. He crossed his arms behind his head and enjoyed the coziness of it all. It was comforting to know that Ace always had your back. The warmth surrounding the two of you didn't help you stay awake, so it wasn't long before he could hear you snoring softly. He adjusted the blanket and turned down the volume on the movie. He put an arm around your back before falling asleep himself.

All content unless otherwise stated belongs to: ©strawheart-pirate. Please do not copy / modify / translate / repost my writing, banners or art on other platforms. Comments, reblogs or likes are highly appreciated! Snowflake banner by ©firefly-graphics

[angy-mouse]

Puck Bunny Part 2

10.7k words jfc im going to shove my head in a hole for a week and die. in lieu of flowers, donations can be made to my gummy worm funds /j

&lt;previous next>

Hockey was aggressive. It was a full-contact sport with so frequent rule breaking, the penalty box was invented. Hockey players, by proxy, couldn’t afford to be hesitant, shy people.

HOOOONK

“Oh my god,” Niki cackled, looking over your shoulder.

You shook your head, taking a long sip of your Starbucks. “There better be a goddamn car crash behind me. With casualties.”

“Darlin’!”

“I’m gonna leave you alone with your valley boy,” Niki declared, clapping you on the shoulder. “Text me if you’re gonna stay or if you need a ride, use protection, pee after, yadda yadda-”

“I told you, I’m not fucking the VAL-U hockey team!” 

“You don’t have to be ashamed with me, puddin’, I think the rivalry makes it romantic. You’re like a BBW Juliet and her harem of meathead Romeos.”

An arm thicker than a steel cable wrapped around your shoulders from behind, and a scruffy chin settled into the crown of your head. “I’m not a meathead,” Sapnap insisted, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Hi, bunny!”

You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks as he nuzzled against your temple, Niki waving her fingers with a knowing smirk as she left. “Hi, Sap,” you greeted, voice cracking as he captured the shell of your ear between his teeth and made playful noises like he was devouring you. “Wha- Sapnap, please-”

“Please what, darlin’,” he muttered with a grin. “I’ll give you anything if you ask as pretty as that, sugar, you know that.” His hands came down to your waist, unashamedly groping at your chub and using his hold to manhandle you back against him. A gasp pulled itself past your lips as you felt the imprint of something against your ass through his shorts and your skirt- god, you hoped he was hard. If his cock was that big flaccid, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from dropping to your knees right then and there.

You didn’t want him to let go of you. His body heat was soaking into you like a furnace, and his firm chest against your back made you feel so safe. You wanted his arms around you always, a promise to protect you from everything.

“You’re gonna fuck a valley right in our fucking courtyard?!”

Sapnap’s head snapped up, grip tightening on you as he glared daggers across the field. “Don’t talk to my fucking girl, techie! You wanna fucking go, I’ll tear you apart-”

“Shut the fuck up and get in the truck, Sap! Gas is too expensive for your bullshit!” Sam waved at you through the window when you whipped around, then returned Sapnap’s middle finger.

“Sapnap,” you finally managed to say, reaching back to tug on his shirt. Your mouth went dry as his attention instantly flicked back to you, expression going soft as his hands rubbed your hips. “Why are you guys here?”

He lit up as if he’d forgotten and started tugging you along. “We’re taking you out for pizza and a movie, sug’! We got a projector set up, and a bunch of blankets and pillows in the truck bed- it’ll be fun, promise!”

You shouldn’t have been surprised. After that first time you let them buy you dinner and cocoa, they’ve texted you nearly every day in the group chat Sam made. Sometimes it was cute, asking if you’d eaten and letting you know they’d door dashed you a treat. Sometimes it was videos of them being dumb in the locker room in nothing but towels that looked ready to fall off, skin still wet from the showers. And every once in a while, when it was just two of you still awake in the early hours of the mornings, you’d get messages about how they missed you. Paragraphs about the way you fill their minds as they try to sleep, both memories and new fantasies keeping them awake. They’d ask to show you what you did to them. Sometimes you said yes and got sent a video, watching them rub themselves over their boxers, as if they only wanted enough to calm down- as if they didn’t care to come without you. Sometimes you told them to just keep talking and received a voice message, listening to them groan between words about all the different ways they wanted you.

“So, do you wanna come?”

Your face heated up at the phrasing combined with your thoughts, but Sapnap simply smiled down at you as if he didn’t notice how his tank-top-exposed arms trapped your eyes.

“Ye- yeah, I wanna come.” He let out the cutest little cheer as he opened the passenger door, and you tore your eyes off him to wonder how you were supposed to climb in such a tall truck. “I’m in a skirt, so how do I- oh god, fuck!”

“I gotcha,” Sapnap laughed, hands on your hips lifting you into the truck as if you weighed absolutely nothing. “There you go,” he hummed as he set you into the seat, nodding as if he was about to impart some great wisdom. “Passenger princesses don’t have to lift themselves into the truck.”

“Or,” was hummed into your ear as another set of broad hands on your waist pulled you to the middle seat. “Buckle themselves up,” Sam finished as he strapped you in with a light kiss to the tip of your nose. “Hi, bunny. Missed you.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” teasingly slipped out as Sapnap climbed in, sandwiching you perfectly between two beefy Texans who were now laughing so prettily. “I missed you guys, too,”

Sam’s hand landed on your knee the second he was done shifting gears, long fingers spread wide so his pinky could just barely dip under the fabric of your skirt. Sapnap stretched a long arm over the back of the seats, letting you rest your head on his firm bicep as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “You want some sweets, bunny,” he hummed, smiling against you as you simply hummed, preoccupied memorizing the shapes Sam drew on your inner thigh. He pulled a convenience store bag off the floor and started searching through it.

“Y’know, that’d probably be easier with two hands.”

He gasped, looking at you with feigned hurt before leaning forward to speak around you. “Bunny doesn’t want my arm around her.”

“I didn’t say-”

“It’s a damn shame,” Sam chimed with a shake of his head, squeezing your thigh. “Don’t take long for a cute lil’ thing to forget who fucked her dumb,”

“That’s it,” Sapnap decided, finally pulling out a candy bar and ripping it open with his teeth. “I make you go a little too dumb on my tongue last week, bunny? Guess I can’t hold that against you, can I? Come on, have some chocolate.”

“I hate you both,” you managed through grit teeth, resisting as he poked at your lips with the candy bar. It was your favorite, but that didn’t matter: you couldn’t give in. The only thing worse than two cocky hockey players was two cocky hockey players who had a reason to be cocky. 

“She hates us,” Sapnap relayed over your head.

“Funny way of showing it.”

“I think she actually kinda likes us.”

“Oh, she really likes us. You don’t let three guys you hate fuck you raw- even if you are a puck bunny.”

Your face burned more than it ever had, but not because you were angry. You couldn’t make yourself angry when their voices dripped with adoration like that, as if you were a kitten and no matter how much you hissed and scratched, they’d continue to coo over you and feed you. “... I’m not a puck bunny,” you finally muttered out, taking a vicious bite from the candy to make Sapnap yelp as you grazed his fingers.

“Nineteen,” Sam mused, ticking up a finger, “Sappy, Punzy, and me. I think four in a row and three at the same time makes you a puck bunny, darlin’.”

Your senior year boyfriend was a goalie for the J.V. team, but you would rather die than bring that up now. “Where’s Punz? At least when he’s here, you’re too busy killing each other to make fun of me.”

“We’re not making fun of you,” came from your right alongside another poke of chocolatey goodness. “Being a puck bunny is a good thing- and being our puck bunny is a great thing.”

“Coach kept him behind to go over the new strats you brought us,” Sam told you with a squeeze to your leg. “You’re gonna be there when we crush the techies, right?”

You huffed as Sapnap managed to get you to take another bite. “If I’m not, this was all for nothing- Sap, are you trying to fatten me up?”

“You said you had a salad for lunch!” You were taken aback by his accusatory tone and narrowed eyes as he poked the remaining candy into your mouth, letting you hold it between your teeth while he dug through his bag. “You didn’t even have soup or breadsticks with it!”

“It’s a cafeteria, not Olive Garden!”

“Let us feed you! We fucked you, now we feed you! That’s how this works!”

“You bought me Subway, cocoa, and gummy worms while my legs were still shaking!”

“Well, now we’re feeding you before we fuck you, we’re switching it up!”

You scoffed, crossing your arms under your chest and drawing his eyes to your tits- as if they ever left. “What makes you think either of you get to fuck me again?”

“Might have something to do with the fact that Sam’s almost reached your panties, and you haven’t slapped him yet.”

You stared directly into Sapnap’s smug smirk and delivered a harsh smack to Sam’s knuckles, but he only pulled his hand back down to your knee. “Hey now, don’t let chuckle fuck here goad you into anything you don’t wanna do, darlin’. I know you just wanna brat a little, an’ that’s just fine.”

God, you wanted to slap that understanding look off his handsome face. “I,” you grit out, red-faced, “am not a brat.”

His expression didn’t change as he nodded with a hum, eyes sternly on the road. “If you’re not a brat,” he mused, “you must actually want my hand off your leg, then.” You had to clench your fists to stop yourself from grabbing his wrist as he put both hands on the wheel, leaving your thigh to be attacked by the A.C. You wanted his hands on you- Sapnap’s, too- and you wanted them so badly you were tempted to slip off your skirt just to get some attention.

The truck came to a smooth stop at a red light, and Sam looked over at you, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

You unfastened your seatbelt and sat heavy on Sapnap’s lap, thunking your sneakers down on Sam’s thigh.

“There’s my sugar,” Sapnap cheered, thick arms wrapping around you and holding you tight to his chest until you could feel his heartbeat through your shoulder. His hand found your hip like a magnet, fingertips digging into the meat of your ass with an eager squeeze. “God, I love this gorgeous ass.”

“I can deal with bratting, but if you don’t put a fucking seatbelt on-”

“I’ve got her, Sammy!”

“You fumbled the easiest shot ever last week, I don’t trust you for shit!” A blaring honk made you realize the light had turned green, but Sam simply threw open the back window and stuck his hand out to flip the bird, eyes still locked on yours. “Sit your fine ass down properly and put your seatbelt back on, bunny.”

You actually would have if he hadn’t chosen that nickname. Instead, you purposefully wiggled your hips as if settling in and leaned further into Sapnap’s chest, making it rumble under you with a chuckle as you felt a twitch against your ass. “You’re not fucking winning this, man, she’s in for the long haul.” You might’ve felt like you’d won as Sam turned away, if it hadn’t been for the way he set his jaw before slamming on the gas. The force sent you deeper into Sapnap, an unintentional yelp falling from your lips as his arms tightened around you, hands groping your ass and breast as if hoping you wouldn’t notice while your life flashed in front of your eyes. “Fuck, I gotcha, sug- Jesus, Sam, you drive like you shoot!”

“This,” Sam hummed as he wrenched the wheel to make his turn in time, Sapnap’s hand snapping to the back of your head as you were sent into the door, “is why we wear our seatbelts.”

Something about his smug voice tripped something in you. You knew the request was perfectly reasonable, but that didn’t stop the little voice in your head from screaming that he can’t tell you what to do. You wanted to do anything that would piss him off, to make that calm, collected exterior crack. You wanted to know that you affected him.

You slammed your lips over Sapnap’s.

He gave a grunt of surprise against you, lips curling into a grin as you pushed your tongue into his mouth, tasting that sweet mint and strawberry pairing that you loved hanging on his tongue. You felt his hand protecting your head slide down to the back of your neck, holding you gently in place to curl his tongue around yours, pushing into your mouth as he fought you to take control. 

Your heart raced as Sam took another sharp turn, bouncing in Sapnap’s lap as the paved road turned to gravel, but by the way he ground up against you, he didn’t mind the rough ride. His teeth sank into your bottom lip as he pulled away, chuckling as he brought you with him a few inches before letting go. “I think sugar likes a little danger,” he purred, pulling your head back to trail his lips over your neck. “You like the adrenaline, bunny?”

You gasped as his lips latched onto your pulse, feeling with his tongue the way your heart thudded. “Keep calling me that,” you pushed out, “and you’ll be in danger.”

He hummed against the tender skin, nipping gently as he pulled away. “You really mean that, sweetheart?”

You didn’t. It made you feel small and sexy. Maybe you were a puck bunny, but you were the puck bunny. The one who only needed to show up to get three brutes, usually eager to maim each other for the fun of it, all cooperating and falling over each other for the chance to take care of you- not just fuck you, but treat you to good food and ask about your day, too. But the day you give up your bratty streak and let these bucket heads have their way without a fight is the day you die. “Maybe,” you said instead. You cupped his scruffy cheek and scratched a single nail along his jaw, guiding his lips back to yours. “You wanna peek under my skirt and see for yourself?”

Sam’s hand landed on your ankle, shoving your leg up, knee pressed into your chest, skirt falling into a pile around your waist with a gasp from your pretty pink lips. He didn’t even lift his foot from the gas as he fixed his eyes on your core, letting out a low whistle. You picked a good day to wear your lace. “It’s a damn shame you soaked through such a pretty pair of panties, sugar. You gonna let me keep these ones?”

You scoffed, wiggling your foot on his lap until you found his cock straining against the front of his sweats. “You’ve hardly done anything to deserve it.”

He clutched his heart with a dramatic groan that made you giggle as Sapnap nosed the soft skin in front of your ear. “Aw, come on now, bunny, there’s no need to be so mean to him. He’s the one who offered up his truck for date night, after all.” He crooked his finger under your chin, lips pulling into a dazed smile as he got your full attention back. “Tell you what, sug’,” he whispered, as if sharing a tender secret, breath fanning across your lips. “If you can use that smart mouth on Sam instead of just terrorizing him, I promise to make you come on my fingers before we even get there. Whaddya say to that, hm?”

You leaned forward to give him a soft kiss. “Bet’cha another bag of candy I make him come before you make me.”

A laugh burst from his lips against yours, hand coming down on your ass with a slap as you shifted your position. “Bunny’s cocky, Sam. You better not cream your pants and let her win.”

“You mean like you did from a little pussy in your face?”

“You’re just jealous she won’t sit on you.”

“Damn right I am, I’d pay to have that ass on me twenty-four, seven.”

You got comfortable on your hands and knees across the bench seat, Sam’s hand nestling into your hair while both Sap’s rubbed your hips. “Would’ja settle for my mouth,” you asked with a small smirk as his bulge jumped at the mere mention, fingers playing with his waistband. 

“Fuck, bunny, I’d settle for a black and white picture if it was you,” he groaned, foot hitting the floor as you palmed his cock, engine roaring under the hood like a lion as he zipped through back roads. “Careful there, sugar,” he warned, but still lifted his hips for you as you tugged at his sweats. “Get distracting me too much, and we’ll end up in a ditch.”

A smirk pulled at your lips as you revealed he wasn’t even wearing underwear, cock springing out the second you got his sweats down to his knees. “You’re telling me this beast can’t even climb out of a ditch.”

He chuckled, cutting off with a low hiss as you wrapped your hand around him. “Oh, my baby can get us anywhere, but if we go off the road, we’re staying there until that smart mouth gets fucked out of you.” 

“I’m doing my best,” Sapnap chirped, grin thick in his voice as he rubbed two fingers over your clothed clit just to watch your hips twitch, trying to follow as he pulled away. “Go on, bunny- I’m a fair man, I start when you do.”

“Not my fault,” you hissed, rubbing over Sam’s fat tip, collecting his precum on your thumb to spread over his head. “I can’t exactly unhinge my jaw.”

Sam let a breathy laugh fall from his lips, dull nails scratching softly at your scalp. “Don’t listen to him, sugar, that feels real good. You keep takin’ care of me like that, and I’ll make up for Sappy neglecting your sweet pussy, alright?”

“Neglecting?” You let a small laugh fall out of your lips at the pure horror in Sapnap’s tone, thumbs rubbing circles just above the crease where your ass met your thighs. “How come I’m the one tryna get my fingers in her guts, but you’re turning her against me?”

“Listen to him whine- what a baby, huh, sug’?”

“Sweetheart, if you don’t shut him up I will, and I don’t wanna get blood on your pretty face.”

“Oh, yeah, I’d like to see you fucking-” You took Sam’s blushing red tip into your mouth and licked up the single pearly drop clinging to his slit, putting more of your weight on the hand on his knee as it tried to jerk up. “Fuck, fuck- ‘m sorry, bun, I- fuck, her mouth’s so hot.”

A startled breath came out of your nose as Sapnap pulled your panties to one side with his thumb, broad hand gripping your ass hard to keep the fabric in place as the pad of his finger found your clit again. “Isn’t it fun to make him eat his words,” he purred, drawing soft circles on your bud. “And see how nice you get treated when you stop being a little brat?” He pressed hard against you, pulling a moan from your throat that vibrated all the way down Sam’s cock, making his hips twitch in his seat. “Yeah, we’re gon’ take care of you so good you won’t need to brat. Ain’t that right, Sammy?”

“Sapnap, I’m about to crash this damn truck if I have to focus on anything else-” his voice cracked, turning into a deep growl as you sucked your cheeks in and sank further down on him, starting a gentle bob of your head just to hear him moan into the hot air- just to feel those thick fingers in your hair scratch at your scalp. “If you running that fucking mouth distracts me from coming down bunny’s tight throat, I’ll leave your ass in a ditch.”

There was a truly obscene wet sound as you pulled off Sam’s thick cock, hand moving in lazy strokes as you pressed your lips to the little bit of tummy peeking out from his ridden-up shirt. “Sammy,” you hummed, grinning against his skin as another moan tumbled from his lips. “If you kill him before I come, I’ll make you wear a condom if you so much as hold my hand.”

Sam’s groan made his stomach rumble under your lips as Sapnap laughed victoriously, popping his fingers in his mouth before they returned to your cunt, the middle one diving past your folds like a reward. “You tell him, sugar! See, bunny likes my mouth.”

Your fingers rubbed up Sam’s side, revealing more and more skin for you to kiss up. He had such a perfect body, his strong abs hiding under just a bit of pudge that made him perfect for holding, giving just the slightest resistance as you pressed your lips hard against him. “I’d like it a hell of a lot more-” you nipped a light mark into Sam’s soft skin “-if it was on me.”

Sapnap’s scoff barely reached your ears as you decided your jaw had recovered enough to sink back down over Sam’s thick cock, letting it reach as deep in your throat as you could manage with strained breaths. He stretched your throat like it was made for him, made to be just tight enough to make curses spill from his pretty lips and make him drive fast enough to make your walls clench down on Sapnap’s finger as it found the perfect spot inside you to rub at.

Sam’s seatbelt snapped open the same second he slammed on the brakes, Sapnap’s grip on your ass tightening to keep you in place so he could push a second finger inside you. You heard the click of the gearshift just before Sam’s other hand threaded into your hair, pulling you off him. “Deep breaths, okay, bunny?” The words came out rushed and with a sigh as he shifted in his seat until he was facing you. God, he looked so pretty. He didn’t bother to pull his shirt back down, letting his flushed cock leak against his bare stomach as he leaned back against the door, gently pulling you closer until he could lay his lips over yours. He didn’t let it get too deep, tongue just grazing your lip as he forced himself off you, one hand leaving your hair to wrap around the base of his cock with a groan. “You hit me if you want me to stop, alright, bunny? Hit me real hard wherever you can reach to make sure I notice- you won’t hurt me. Promise me, bun.”

You both knew it was more like ‘can’t hurt me’ but you nodded anyway, turning your head to press a kiss to the inside of his wrist. “I promise to hit you if I suddenly lose my mind and decide I don’t want you to fuck my throat.” His stern expression broke as he huffed out a laugh, petting your hair with a soft ‘good girl’ falling from his lips as he guided you to his cock. You did as you were told, taking deep breaths as you let him control your movements, despite how much you wanted to take him to the hilt and let him fill your stomach. Instead, he took your mouth slowly and gently, pulling you back and forth along just the first half as he studied your face. You clenched down on Sapnap’s fingers as you caught sight of his expression- he was looking at you, spit-soaked lips and gnarled hair, like pure art. A deep sigh escaped his lips and his hand left his cock to join the other in your hair, cupping your head gently as you relaxed your throat as much as you could and gripped his hips.

The first thrust into your throat made you choke.

The second one knocked all those careful breaths out of your lungs.

You weren’t embarrassed to say the third one made your eyes roll back as you went limp in his hold. 

“Aw, hell,” Sapnap hissed as your legs started to fail, pulling his fingers out of you to grip your other hip. “We good,” he reported, lifting you completely off the seat and up to his mouth, sealing his lips over yours without a missed beat. Your moan pulled one from Sam and spurred his hips faster, Sapnap’s lips curling into a smug grin against you as he ate you as eagerly as he did before- as if this was all he needed to be not just content, but ecstatic.

Your hands on Sam’s hips wandered- up his sides and over his stomach, flexed tight as he chased his high, thick muscle on full display as he fucked your throat open, making a home for his cock in it. You’d love that, you decided. You imagined Sam laying in bed after a hard practice, fat cock nestled in your throat casually as he watched tapes of the old games to prepare. You knew he’d take such good care of you- that was just the kind of sweetheart he was. He’d never let you go hungry or thirsty, always keeping snacks and water on hand for you. He’d treat his cock sleeve like a princess.

Sapnap’s tongue curled inside you just as Sam’s hips started to stutter, almost as if both were trying to carve you open to better suit their needs- only difference being Sap’s need was to make you the last thing he ever tastes and Sam’s was to paint your throat white. You did your very best to relax your throat, to become a willing cum slut for your handsome defense man to use. Your hips rocked against Sapnap’s mouth almost absent-mindedly, more focused on Sam’s pleasure than your own- though, if you weren’t so committed to dying before you stroked their egos, you would admit the possibility of coming from sucking him off was bigger than his double-d pecs. 

“I’m gonna come down your throat, bunny,” fell from his lips with a strained breath as one arm snapped to grip the steering column for leverage to lift his hips completely off the seat, fucking his cock along your tongue like he couldn’t get deep enough, no matter how many times he buried your nose in his happy trail. “Fuck, you take dick like a champ, baby. Look like such a little pillow princess, but you give head like a perfect whore. Bet you’d be so happy to stay in my truck forever, huh? Get your pretty cunt ate out while you suck me off every day?” You couldn’t nod around his cock, but Sapnap’s moan as you clenched on his tongue said it all and made Sam grin wide. “Yeah,” he hummed, thrusts turning slower but harder as the hand in your hair caressed your scalp. “We’d be so fuckin’ good to you.”

The promise shot straight to your clit like lightning and spurred you to sink your nails into Sam’s hips to draw him down your throat until your nose was smothered against him, spasming around his cock as your gag reflex protested. His head thunked back against the window, tip battering your throat as his hips jerked against your face. “Fuck,” he hissed. “Put ‘er down, Sap, give ‘er some room.” 

A handful of curses were mumbled against your pussy lips, but he obliged, broad hand rubbing up and down your back as he laid you across his lap. “I gotcha, sweet girl, deep breaths for me, alright?”

“I’d like to see you breathe with this monster down your throat,” you thought spitefully, but it died as a husky moan spilled from Sam’s lips, cock jumping in your throat as his orgasm came down on him like a crashing wave. His hand went limp in your hair, nothing more than a soft, sweet caress, not wanting to force you to take more than you wanted. So sweet, always worrying for nothing: your hold on his hips kept him pressed deep inside your mouth, throat pulsing around him as you struggled to swallow mouthful after mouthful of sweet cum, taking as much as he’d give you.

“Fuck, bunny,” he wheezed, voice hoarse as he gently pulled you off his spent cock. You whined as his tip leaked against his stomach, twitching as his own body insisted on giving you more to drink, but it was quickly cut short as you had to snap your lips shut to avoid a mouthful of thick cum falling from them. “Shit,” Sam hissed, already fumbling for the window button, “you wanna spit, sug’?” 

Your brat came back. How fucking dare he? Spitters are quitters. Did you suck dick like some common whore who needed to spit after? I don’t think so. 

You inhaled deep through your nose and swallowed the entire load in one go, letting your white-streaked tongue loll out as proof. A soft ‘oh, hell’ slipped as he brought your lips to his, inviting your tongue in to tangle with his, licking your mouth clean of him. He groaned when you pulled back, but the hand in your hair didn’t impede your movement as you leaned close, taking his earlobe between your teeth for just a moment.

“Never fucking doubt me again.”

“Never fucking again,” he mumbled out, chasing your lips. “Does that mean you wanna take care of Sap before Punzy finds us?”

Your hand reached back on its own, Sapnap’s fingers finding yours and lips pressing against your palm. His beard scratched gently at the surrounding skin, leaving a trail as he crawled up your body, lips caressing until he was hovered over you and they found your neck. His hips pressed against yours and a gasp fell from your throat like it was pulled.

“God, why are all three of you built like fucking bulls?”

Their chests rumbled against you, a subtle reminder that two broad Texan country boys who loved to throw down their gloves had you trapped between them. It made you feel small, something you didn’t get to experience often. They could easily throw you around, bend you this way and that however they wanted for their own pleasure.

Then Sam’s lips caressed your cheek and Sapnap’s calloused hands kneaded your soft hips. “Made for your pleasure, sweet thing,” Sap murmured against your neck, finding the tender spot behind your ear. He didn’t nip or even suck, just kissed the skin softly: a reminder how soft these boys were on you. They’ve shown more tender care for you in a week of texts and two ‘dates’ than your ex did in almost a year. They would easily throw you around, but they’d do it with a hand protecting your head and soft kisses pressed wherever they could reach. They’d fold you into any position they wanted until you gave the slightest sign of discomfort and they’d pull back without a breath of hesitation.

“Flip me,” you muttered out when your own muscles refused to obey, letting out a soft purr as four broad hands scattered across your body, gently lifting and turning you to lay you back against Sam’s firm chest. You felt a smile tug at your lips as you watched Sapnap get lost in your body, fingers brushing up your waist to reveal the soft skin of your stomach as your shirt got pushed up, trailing touches along the bottom of your bra. “Hey,”

He grinned back, leaning down to brush his lips over yours. “Hey, sugar. Can I get your bra off for ya?” You gave a hum against him and his fingers walked around the band until he found the clasp. He pulled you up just a bit, just enough to press you more against him than Sam, and fumbled with the hooks for a moment- just long enough for you to start grinning against his lips and for him to curse against yours. You wrapped an arm around his neck to hold you up and reached the other back, flicking the hooks apart. “Fuckin’ witchcraft,” he huffed, but helped you pull it out of your shirt anyways. 

Sapnap turned the lace over in his hands as if contemplating before reaching over your head. 

“There ya go, buddy,” he chirped with a grin as he draped it over Sam’s head. “Add that to your fuckin’ spank bank.”

“Don’t think I won’t,” Sam tossed back as his hands rubbed down your hips, grabbing two thick handfuls of your thighs and pulling them apart. You bit your lip to hold back a moan as your lacy panties pulled tight against your clit. “Get to work or I’ll fuck her myself and leave you to cream your pants again.”

Sap rolled his eyes, leaning down to bunny kiss you. “He’s so dramatic,” he whispered in your ear, just to hear the breathy giggle you gave as his lips skimmed your cheek. “You know I’ll take care of you, don’t’cha bunny?” His lips curled into a grin as you nodded, stretching your neck to try and sneak a kiss from him. Thick fingers pulled aside your panties to run his thumb over the seam of your folds, spreading your slick. “Oh, you’re just a sweet thing for me, huh?” He shoved his shorts down his thighs as he asked, grin stretched wider than his face at the weak noise the sight pulled from you. 

Punz was packing. You were going to feel Sam in your throat for weeks. Sapnap was smuggling a monster. You were absolutely positive being fucked by a literal bull would be easier. You were expecting something big, of course- you’d even predicted the girth-to-length correctly based on his height and build. You weren’t expecting his long fingers to barely wrap around the base or for the tip to nearly reach his knees.

“It’s always the fucking shy ones.”

“If you want to kill me, just run me over,” you wheezed. The muscles in your neck gave out, seemingly accepting your approaching end, and your head thudded back against Sam’s sternum, but you still watched down your nose as Sapnap stroked himself- god help you, it got bigger. 

“You can tap out, sugar,” he promised, even as his thumb swiped over the leaking head. “I’d be more than happy to jerk off with you on my face again.” 

“Absolutely not. I just need a safe word.”

That got their attention- and concern. Sam let your thighs fall together and Sap let go of his cock, letting it bob against his stomach as he leaned over you. 

“What’s wrong, sugar?”

“What do you need, bun?”

“You know this doesn’t go anywhere you don’t want, right?”

A huff of laughter spilled from your lips as you reached up to cup Sapnap’s cheek. “You’re both big softies,” you cooed, trying to shoo away his worried gaze with a few soft kisses across his cheekbones. “I need a safe word because I know myself too well. I don’t wanna stroke your ego, but you’re fucking huge, Sappy.” He perked up, worry falling away to pure adoration as his hockey name fell from your lips. You rubbed your other hand down his body until you could curl your fingers around his shaft, a grin curling on your face at the soft whimper you pulled from him. “I know I’m going to scream, and cry, and brat my fool head off, even though I want nothing more right now than to die from some monster dick.” You grazed your lips over his. “So we’re going to establish a safe word, and unless I use it, you’re going to fuck my brains out. Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” slipped out without hesitation and you couldn’t admit what it did to you. “Fuck, yes, please. Uh- pineapple?”

You gave him a firm but short kiss. “Perfect. Safe word is pineapple. Sam, if someone calls and we don’t notice-”

“Yank you apart and give the offender a good hit- on it.” He pulled your thighs up again, helping Sapnap hook your calves over his hips. His lips pressed gently against the crown of your head. “I gotcha, baby,” he promised softly, making your heart squeeze as you knew he didn’t just mean that he was holding you. 

Sapnap’s thick fingers wrapped around the grab handle on the roof to keep his weight off you as he scooched close enough to press his fat tip against you. He parted your folds around him and laid his cock between them, grinding the wet tip against your clit as he passed. “Fuck, sugar,” he sighed in time with your moan as he sized you up. “It’s gonna be fuckin’ tight.”

You knew that was a not-so-subtle offer to back out, to make sure you knew what you were in for.

“Promise?”

He looked like you just gave him the world. Based on the way he practically worships your cunt, you may as well have. 

He pressed against your entrance hard, using one hand to try to ease his way inside without just shoving himself into your pussy. When he finally managed the head inside, it pushed a whiny moan out of you as just the tip spread your entrance more than his fingers could ever hope.

“Sapnap,” you rasped out, watching your voice send a shiver down his spine and snap his eyes shut, desperate not to get ahead of himself. He was being smart: taking things nice and slow to make absolutely sure you felt more pleasure than pain. You reached out and raked your nails down his tensed abs. “Take me,”

His hips snapped without a thought as his body took your command as law, suddenly filling you with a good four inches that spread your walls to their limit. His tip leaked precum inside you as if even his cock knew you needed lube and was eager to supply. The hot, sticky feeling as it seeped into you just made you all the more eager to get filled with cum. 

Another sharp thrust got him halfway in.

The third slammed your cervix like a truck. 

“Oh, hell,” you wheezed, letting yourself fall limp in Sam’s secure hold. Your hips rocked against Sapnap’s, desperate to fit that last bit of him inside you, despite what your body said. “I want it, Sappy, please. Don’t stop.” 

Another curse fell from his lips as his cock jerked inside of you, desperate to obey. “Careful, sug’,” he grit out, plastic creaking under his grip as he tried to resist. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

You stretched your neck, brushing your lips along his jaw.

“Hurt me.”

It hurt like hell when he slammed your cervix with intent, but you would’ve walked on hot coals to have him buried in your guts. One of Sam’s hands left your thigh to trace light shapes over your clit- whether to get your body to relax or to soothe the pain, you didn’t know, you just knew it was working. Your walls shook as you came, begging Sapnap deeper until finally your cervix gave in.

The coarse hair above his cock pressed against your clit after Sam yanked his hand away, giving a perfect sensation as Sapnap ground his hips against yours as if making sure he’d really given you every inch. “Oh hell- fuck me, sugar- bunny.” His stuttered praises created a new nickname that spread a fuzzy feeling all the way through your stomach and into your chest. Your cunt made your approval known as it tried to suck him in deeper, begging him to fill every empty space inside you and pulling a deep groan all the way from the depths of his stomach. “You like that? You my sweet sugar-bunny? Fuck, your pussy wants me, sug’. Haven’t even started fuckin’ you and it’s tryna milk me. You really want me to come inside you that bad?”

So badly you wanted to cry, yes you did. You’ve never wanted to be filled before these boys, but something about them made you want to be straight-up bred. You wanted them to take turns fucking you full of their cum just to keep your cunt warm and wet and full. 

“Please, Sap,” you managed, feeling the way your strained voice made his cock jump inside you. “Want you to fill me up ‘til your cum is leaking out of me for days.”

Evidently, that was the final reassurance your sweet Texas gentleman needed to leave the building. In his place was the broad enforcer who barreled through people like they were nothing but snowflakes in the wind. Without another second Sapnap was jackhammering into you with the same force he used to lay out opponents, that thick cock head never leaving your womb as he speared you open. You only knew you were screaming when your throat began to hurt, unable to hear anything over the blood rushing through your ears as his cock hit every nerve in your pussy, thick shaft rubbing against your g-spot from how stretched you were around him. 

Sam let your legs snap closed around Sapnap’s hips so he could cup your tits in either hand, fingers lazily strumming your nipples as if he knew you only needed the slightest touch to bring you over the edge again. Soft praises filled the cab as you came on Sapnap’s cock, Sam’s lips pressing hard on your temple, knowing you’d need something to ground you as you floated. Sapnap didn’t- couldn’t help as he got lost in the heavenly feeling of your pussy gushing around him, the sound of his thrusts becoming so much wetter as he pounded right through your orgasm.

“Remember your safe word, bun,” Sam murmured against you. “We just lost Sappy.”

Sapnap fucked you like a machine, hips pounding an even, fast pace against yours, as if all your orgasm did was energize him. His cock rocked into you like it was his mission to fuck you open. Like he needed to make sure he left you so stretched out that you could only come to him to satisfy you. He was a man completely committed, and his only goal was to fuck your literal brains out and fill you with his cum. 

“Beautiful.” The word escaped his lips as part growl and part prayer as he traced the shape of your jaw. He sucked the skin into his mouth just enough to leave a light mark- so tender and gentle with you, completely opposite to the way he abused your cunt. “Fuck, I love when you come for me, sugar. Get this gorgeous look on your face. Look like an absolute goddess, baby.”

You wanted to tell him how much you loved the things he said, how much they filled you with a warmth that pure sex didn’t. You wanted to tell him that he was the picture of a Greek Adonis: stretched out above you with the muscles in his thick arms bulging from the effort of keeping his weight off of you, shaggy brown locks hung over his melted chocolate eyes and that scruffy beard that made you want to trace your fingers down his jaw. You wanted to say it all, but none of it came from your lips.

“Fuck, fuck,” spilled out instead as he fucked you straight through your sensitivity and into a pleasure-induced partial numbness. “Fuck, can’t- I can’t! God, fuck me!”

“God, you really do run your mouth.” Sam’s tone was absolutely reverential, despite the breathless chuckle that came with his words. His fingers traveled all over your torso, rubbing tender shapes into your hips, breasts, and every stretch of skin in between. His lips caressed your cheek, a soft touch among the debauchery of a threesome in a pickup parked in a field. “What’s your safe word, bunny?”

“Pine- fuck! It’s pineapple! That’s not calling it! If you fucking stop, Sapnap, I’ll cut your dick off!”

Sapnap’s lips curled into a smile against you as he eagerly obeyed, hips not so much as stuttering against yours as he kept up his animalistic pace. “She wasn’t kidding: bunny gets bratty after her second, Sam.” 

“Duly noted,” was muttered into the hot air, thick fingers crooking under your chin to guide you to his lips. “I think,” Sam mused against your soft lips as he kissed his way into your mouth, “another two would make her a good girl again.” 

“Or make her pass out.”

Sam shrugged as he pulled back to let you pant against him, teeth teasing the swollen red skin of your bottom lip. “Either way.” 

Your breath hitched as Sapnap’s thick fingers wrapped completely around your ankle and started testing how he could arrange you. He tried to put it over his shoulder first, but when he was blanketed over you so tightly, your hips just couldn’t do it. “I gotcha, sug’,” he promised when you winced, immediately changing tactics. He hooked your knee over his elbow, then wrapped his arm over the steering column. “There you go, just opening you up a bit, that’s all.” 

Fuck, you’d never had to be spread open so much just to take a guy. It occurred to you that you still hadn’t. You took Sap just fine- your walls were like a vice around him, the slightest stinging stretch still remaining- but you were taking it in stride. Not that Sapnap’s hammering left any room to do anything but. Still, he tried to take care of you, tried to ease his rough battering on your insides into something easier to walk with tomorrow. Even when he had you spread across the front seat, bruising your folds, he was still so sweet.

He straightened up and yanked the bottom of his shirt between his teeth, eyes as dark as warm molasses trained on where your cunt swallowed him. His cock dragged against your walls as he pulled his hips back, hand snapping back to the grab handle as soon as his shirt was out of the way: he needed to see you. Needed to see the pretty pink lips that wrapped around his cock so well. 

Not leaning over you gave him leverage. Now when his hips drove into yours, cock diving deep inside you, he did it faster and harder than he could before. Now when he thrust into you, he pressed his balls tight against your ass, practically begging to empty them into your tight heat.

Scratch what you said before: not sweet. Your legs were just preventing him from absolutely destroying your pussy.

“Y’killing me,”

Sam chuckled, but Sapnap didn’t falter- didn’t even look up from where your cum had soaked the dark hairs at the base of his cock. “You’re okay, sweetheart,” Sam promised. His fingers threaded with yours, bringing your joined hands to rest on the swell of your stomach. You’d swear you could feel Sapnap’s thick cock pressing back- thought that if you were any thinner, you would see the column where he pushed your body aside to make room for himself. “You’re doing so good- such a perfect little bunny,” Sam praised against your cheek as he slathered it in soft caresses of his lips. “Like you were made for us.” 

A short laugh fell from his lips before he choked on it. It came back, though, and just as you worried what could possibly make anyone laugh with their cock out and their friend spreading you in half, he let the thought fly.

“Made sharing size.”

Your head fell back into the cradle of his collarbone and a short, breathless laugh spilled from your lips. “I hate you,” you managed, but it caught in your throat as Sapnap fucked you like he hadn’t heard a word. “Fuck, hate you, too, Goliath!” 

“I don’t think he can hear you,” Sam muttered, caressing your tit in his free hand- didn’t grope it, didn’t play with your nipple. He held it like a precious gem- pet over the skin like it was the softest he’d ever felt. Sapnap growled out something around his shirt, but even if you could understand it, you weren’t certain it was anything coherent. “Sappy’s a little obsessed with you, bun. Now that he’s got a turn with your pussy, he’s not thinkin’ ‘bout nothing but fucking you open and filling you.” 

Well, fuck, now that was all you could think about, either. You’d never admit to these boys how much you fantasized about letting them fill you up whenever they wanted. How many nights since your impromptu rendezvous were spent with your fingers in your cunt, mourning the lack of a thick cock to satisfy you. The lack of a strong, warm body holding you from behind, feeding himself into your needy pussy just to be closer while you slept. 

You could never tell them. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind they’d comply to every increasingly perverted thought, and you quite enjoyed your ability to walk- and think- straight. Both of which were quickly melting away as Sapnap carved out a permanent home for himself deep in your guts. 

He fell forward when you came around him, gummy walls sucking his cock deeper as he mouthed at the column of your neck. Your arms snapped around his head as his hips resorted to rolling against yours, nails carving into his scalp through shaggy hair as the coarse hair at his base scraped against your clit. “S’fuckin’ good, sugar,” he groaned against the pulsing vein in your neck. “You’re fuckin’ perfect. Fuck, ‘m gonna fill this sweet pussy with my cum. Stuff you so fuckin’ full-” He choked as you rolled your hips in time with his, falling to his forearms braced on the driver’s window.

“Promises,” you panted out with a smile, “promises,”

Curses spilled from his lips like he couldn’t control himself, chest hair rubbing against your raw nipples where his shirt was still bunched up, sending you dangerously closer to overstimulation, but nowhere near calling your safe word. “She’s so sweet,” he muttered under his breath, as if it was a realization he hadn't meant to share.

“Just the sweetest, ain’t she,” Sam hummed back anyway, lips pressed tenderly against your temple. “She don’t even know how gorgeous she is- else she wouldn’t let a couple bucket heads split her open.” 

“Maybe we’re special.” The words were barely breathed into your neck, a shy question he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to.

You pulled hard on his soft hair, yanking his lips up to yours. He still tasted like your cunt, but his strawberry chapstick peaked through, just like you were learning it always did. When you let him pull back, it was only enough for your breath to wash over each other's sore lips. “So special,” you promised, and you meant it. You might have a major thing for jocks with anger issues, but you sure as hell didn’t let them all raw you. In a truck. At the same time. But then again, they didn’t all drive an hour to pick you up for a spur of the moment date after a week of blowing up your phone. 

“You’re more special,” spilled from his lips into yours without a thought, pressing closer and closer until there wasn’t an inch of your body not touching them. “Want you to come with me, sugar. Please? Wanna make you come one more time.” You were nodding from the first word, finally driving your tongue past his lips to make him shut up because god, you wouldn’t be able to wait for him if he kept talking. 

Sam’s broad, calloused hands rubbed over your bare stomach, a soft, “y’two look so cute together,” pulling a whine from deep in your chest. He held you tight as Sapnap’s hips bucked into yours, throwing you over the edge one more time as your pussy milked him for his cum, begging for it to fill you up. “Atta girl, letting Sappy come. So good for us,” he cooed, giving you a squeeze while you were still a million miles away, his voice foggy and distant. You didn’t know how long it took you to come back down to Earth, but Sapnap’s cock was still leaking into your used hole when you did, his nose buried where your neck met your shoulder, nuzzling into the skin as if he was going to fall asleep. Honestly, you had half a mind to join him. 

The cold air hit first. Then Sapnap hit your chest and knocked every painfully reclaimed breath back out of your lungs as all three of you fell like a set of dominoes without the driver’s door propping you up.

“This is the fucking thanks I get for buying the pizza?” The sudden bright light of the overhead impeded your view, but after a few frantic blinks, you could make out an upside-down Punz glaring at you. No, not you: only the guys. Pretty privileges. Awesome. “Sam, put your dick away.”

“Cock looker,” Sam called with a flip of the bird, but yanked his boxers back into place anyway. “We’re not neglecting our girl just because you’re late to the party. Right, Sap?” Sapnap let out a sound against your neck that was either, ‘fuck you,’ or ‘puck boo.’ Toss of the coin, really. Either way, Punz reached over and smacked the back of his head. 

“Get off her so I can take my bunny.”

A shrill yelp escaped you as Sapnap suddenly came back to life, fingers sinking into your love handles to hold you steady as he shot up. You moaned as the new position had you basically sitting on his lap, cock head spearing something deep inside you that’s never been reached before, but if he noticed he didn’t show it. “You can’t take her!” The decree was paired with him falling back on the passenger’s door, sending you crashing into his firm chest. “She’s mine now,” he decided with a kiss to your crown. After a moment of contemplation, you decided that you were pretty cool with any result from this conversation and settled in. “You decided to be a bitch and not show. Too bad, so sad- oh, fuck!”

Another panicked noise left your lips as Sapnap fell, his entire torso dangling out of the truck with Sam’s frantic grab of his ankles the only thing keeping him from tumbling out onto the grass with you still attached. After a beat to confirm you weren’t about to crack your head open and be found naked and full of cum, you braced yourself on Sapnap’s chest and pushed yourself up.

Punz grinned like he hadn’t just tried to murder his right wing. “Hey, bunny,” he purred, opening his arms for you. “‘M sorry I didn’t come to pick you up. You wanna have a cuddle while Tweedledee and Tweedledipshit pull the truck the right way around?”

“I’m sorry my parking skills aren’t on point when I’m balls deep, god!”

“He’s not sorry,” you pretended to whisper, stern facade breaking into a grin when Sapnap snorted out a laugh under you. You rubbed a flat palm across his chest, feeling it rumble as he practically purred at the feeling. “You ready to let me go, Sappy? Or you need a snuggle?”

You could watch in his eyes like a movie as he slowly thought through your question and realized what you were really asking. He leaned up to press a peck against the corner of your mouth before flopping back down across the seat with a soft pat to your waist. “I’m good,” he promised with one of those lazy grins you were starting to crave. “Make sure to save some for me, though, yeah?”

“Oh, of course: everyone gets their cuddle rations,” you agreed, choosing to ignore Sam’s snort of, “rations- like we’re in the cuddle war.” You reached for Punz and tried to make yourself as cute as possible with a soft pout. “I can’t stand, you’ll have to carry me.”

“I think I can live with that,” he decided, pulling you off Sapnap and into his arms with a small noise of sympathy as the drag against your sensitive cunt made you ache. “I know, poor bunny,” he gushed, pulling down your shirt for you. “Alright, fuckers, turn the truck around so we can actually watch the movie!”

“I’d forgotten about the movie,” you mused, legs wrapped around Punz’s waist hesitantly. “I’m leaking on your shirt.” 

“It’s seen worse.”

Your nose wrinkled. “Ew,”

“I don’t think you get to talk shit after a Texas Eiffel Tower.”

“... alright, fair,” you decided, settling into his chest. His hands on your hips hoisted you up his body easily, letting you relax and trust him to arrange you however it was easiest to hold. “So what brought on this surprise date? I mean, I’m obviously not complaining, but you three seem to have a TMI issue when we text, so why didn’t any of you tell me?”

For what might’ve been the first time in his life, Punz’s mouth stayed shut. Call the fuckin’ presses. You pushed down your instinct to say something snarky (or maybe just bratty) and pulled your chin out of his shoulder to look at him properly. And oh what a pretty pink he was. 

He finally caved to your unintentional puppy eyes, stubbornly looking away. “We were kinda worried you’d say no… and we thought it’d be better to hear it in person than over text.”

The truck doors clanked open then shut again, and the two were now pulling the tarp off the bed, but your eyes were stuck on Punz. “You all drove an hour and bought pizza… while thinking I might not agree?”

“... Look, I never claimed we were smart-”

“That is the sweetest thing a guy’s ever done for me,” gushed out of you before you could think of the ramifications of admitting that. You slammed your lips over his in an effort to keep him from thinking too hard on it, kissing your way into his mouth. “You guys,” you breathed between kisses as you started peppering them all across his face, “are the absolute-” mwah mwah mwah, “best ever! Gotta be careful-” mwah, “if you ever wanna get rid of me-”

“Never,” he declared without hesitation, chasing after your lips. “Today was your chance to tell us to get lost. You get another in eleven to twelve business days.”

“Oh? Which days are business days?”

“Every third Groundhog’s Day.”

Giggles burst from your lips just as another set of hands snatched your waist. “What are you two talking about over here,” Sam hummed against your ear. You could feel his lips curl into a grin as his fingers ran light circles over your sensitive skin, turning a slight laugh into an absolute fit. “Come here, you, let’s get you into the bed. Hup!” He lifted you out of Punz’s arms and right into Sapnap’s waiting ones from where he stood in the truck bed. 

“Hey, sugar,” he sang. The truck rocked as all your boys clambered in, but Sap did his best to keep you steady as he laid you in an absolute nest of pillows they’d prepared. Couch cushions, bed pillows, and even a body pillow with a hockey player posing like a Playboy bunny. “There you go,” he muttered to himself, tucking into your side like he hadn’t just been stuck on you like superglue. His lips ghosted over your cheek. “You gonna let us feed you now?” 

“How the hell do you come that hard and walk around like nothing?”

He blinked. “Why do you sound mad about it?”

“I am mad about it! You practically killed me, and now you’re carrying me!”

“Well, it’s not like you’re heavy.”

You gave a pointed look down at your thick thighs and thicker stomach. “Hon, I weigh like-”

“Mushrooms or no?” The truck suspension strained as Sam threw himself down next to you, two pizza boxes bouncing on his lap. “We’ll need you to eat at least one slice, since someone interrupted before we could do any other aftercare-”

“Oh, fuck off! You can fuckin’ Venmo me for the pizza if you keep bitching.”

“I paid for gas! Make Sapnap pitch in for once!”

“Excuse you,” Sapnap huffed, wrestling with a two-liter of coke, “I’m baby, bitch.”

You found yourself chuckling and shaking your head as they argued, blooming warmth filling your chest.

Contrasting with the wet cold between your thighs.

“Punz-” He stopped swiping at Sapnap to give you his full attention, and for a moment you thought you should be an adult. Tell him to find you something to clean yourself with, and tell Sam or Sapnap or whoever stole your panties to give them back. You should act like a mature woman who knows how to handle a two-night stand, but instead you find yourself pouting at him, knowing it would make him cave to anything you asked. “They left me empty and cold.”

Sam and Sap burst into protests.

“Left you?!”

“The audacity-”

“Oh, you poor little bunny,” Punz laughed, scooping you right up and taking your place. He squeezed you tight, dotting his lips across your neck to hear you giggle as his breath tickled the sensitive skin. “Bastards been neglecting you?”

Sapnap had produced a handful of shot glasses that he filled with soda and passed around. “Oh, yeah, she was real fuckin’ neglected when she was coming on my cock.”

“She needs all three of us to be happy,” Sam agreed, taking the shot. “Why did you bring shot glasses?”

“Why didn’t you bring alcohol?”

“Lift your hips for me, bunny,” Punz muttered, squeezing your waist. “I’ll pull down my shorts for you and we can have a nice warm cuddle while we watch the movie.”

You pushed up to your knees, hands from either side snapping to hold you steady. “You’re all such worry warts,” you laughed, accepting a shot of coke and passing it back for a refill. 

“Oh, forgive us, sugar: we’re not eager to watch the gorgeous babe who puts up with all three of our dumb asses crack her head open.”

You felt Punz run his smooth tip through your folds, letting Sapnap’s cum slick up his shaft before he led you to ease your hips back. You managed to choke your moan as he spread you back open, biting your tongue until you were seated all the way back on his lap. “Fuck- I’m good, I’m good.”

“You’re good?”

You sighed as the stretch quickly faded from being fucked open so recently, leaving only the blissful feeling of being perfectly filled. “I’m so good.” Sam offered you a slice and you took it, downing a testing nibble and then three big bites of melty cheese as you realized maybe their fuck-then-feed method held some water after all. “What are we watching?”

Sam presented a remote with a flourish, pointing it at the white sheet strung up in the treeline and pushing a button. “We are watching- fuck.” He flipped the remote around to point it at the projector on the roof of the cab. You weren’t sure how much of this was set up before or how much you were oblivious to while Punz coddled you, but either way something squeezed in your chest. “We’re watching Die Hard, because it’s a goddamn masterpiece.”

You nodded. “You got the second one for after?”

“Of course,” 

“And the third?”

“You’re cute. Don’t push it.”

[shares-a-vest]

@steddie-week Day Five: Together/Established Relationship/Hold the Line by Toto

Steve and Eddie being in a relationship might be the worst thing that has ever happened to Dustin.

Demagorgons, evil Russians, Vecna, undead bats and dogs, government conspiracies and his cat being eaten have all been bliss compared to the sickly sweet, ooey-gooey, puppy-love, lovesick, utter grossness bullshit of Steve and Eddie actually being together.

Of course, he is okay with it in terms of them being two dudes. His mother taught him never to judge people like that.

Nope, that isn't the problem.

It's awful and just plain annoying because they are inseparable.

Attached at the hip. Practically living together in Steve's parentless house. Going everywhere together... Making everything about the other all the damn time... Talking on the phone when they can't be in the same vicinity... Eddie being granted a lifetime riding shotgun pass in the Beemer... Steve declaring that Eddie is his best friend...

And it is all impacting Dustin's life a little too much at this point.

He barges into Steve's house, not bothering to wait at the door after his knocking remains unanswered. As were his phone calls hours ago It's 11am on a goddamn Saturday morning and neither of the guys has work.

They were supposed to meet him at the arcade two hours ago.

Inseparable. But also selfish and forgetful.

He walks into the living room to find Steve and Eddie cuddled up on the couch (barf) and tucked under a blanket. Both are still dressed in pyjamas, a disgusting matching set Eddie had bought at the beginning of last Winter as a joke that they now wear unironically all the goddamn time.

Eddie (as usual) has his hands in Steve's hair, petting him like he's an overly furry house cat. And Steve (as usual) is on the precipice of sleep.

"You were supposed to meet me at the arcade!" he blurts out.

He probably should have thought of something better to announce his presence - something that would make them feel oh so very bad for abandoning him. But he is too distracted by the realisation that this relationship has also turned his best friends into senior citizen-homebody-couch potatoes. If only Steve was wearing the dorky old man spectacles he needs for the computer at work...

The pair startle a little but barely move. If anything, they look annoyed that he is even in their presence. They don't even look guilty or caught out! Have some sort of reaction - assholes!

"We're watching TV," Steve mumbles through a yawn, completely blowing over the plans they had made and now missed.

"Yeah," Eddie drawls, eyes glued to the screen, "MTV time, go away."

He punctuates his lame explanation with a hiss that makes Steve (now the chief of egging him on) snicker into his chest.

Yuck.

Dustin groans at the sounds of Toto crooning from the TV, whining when he catches Eddie of all people, mouthing along to the words.

Maybe he should just get it over and done with and call Hellfire for an emergency talk about their (decidedly no longer 'metal') Dungeon Master. They were already talking about it. Even Gareth, Jeff and George were willing to overthrow Eddie and replace him with Will if it meant some consistent campaigns without a fawning Steve lingering around asking silly questions - all an excuse to lamely flirt and grab Eddie's already-waning attention.

Although, it might be more effective at this point to simply disable Steve's cable access...

"What!" he screeches at the sight of Robin shuffling in from the kitchen, slurping away at some cereal.

She stops mid-spoonful, gawking. A Cheerio slops onto her chin before dripping down onto her sweater without her noticing.

"Hey," she mumbles through a mouthful nonchalantly.

She squishes past the lovebirds to sit in the empty spot next to Steve - which is basically three-quarters of the couch considering his proximity to Eddie.

"Why are you here?"

Robin shrugs, "Kid, this is the only way I can spend time with Steve that doesn't involve being at work."

"Are you fucking kidding me!"

Steve grumbles, "I'm not going with you, dude."

"But we made these plans a week ago."

"No, I don't wanna."

"Henderson," Eddie pipes up, overly stern alongside Steve's baby-whining ass, "We just want some peace and quiet."

"Can't we just chill out, Dustin?" Steve begs as if they aren't like this all the time these days.

Before Dustin can express his utter disappointment, Steve retreats into Eddie's chest and pulls their blanket up to cover himself completely. Eddie just continues petting the mass glued to his side as Dustin scrubs a hand over his own face, resigning himself to an arcade session alone.

Robin whines, likely annoyed that their communal blanket is now being hogged by a total traitor of a friend. She reaches forward to deposit her cereal bowl on the coffee table with a pointed thud. Clearly 'spending time with Steve' just means being a rickety third wheel that eventually topples off the proverbial clown car entirely.

"I'll come with you to the arcade," she says, jumping up and rushing towards him.

She rolls her eyes in the direction of the cocooned duo on the couch.

"Really?" he can't help but beam and as Robin nods, a toothy, even guilty smile creeps across her face.

"But I don't have any money," she admits, chewing her bottom lip.

Fuck it, he'll take it.

Dustin grabs her arm and begins leading them to the door, grumbling as Robin's socks slip on Mrs Harrington's shiny floorboards.

He calls over his shoulder, "Don't worry, I'll just find a new older friend. I hate you two."

"Fine," Eddie chimes, matching his mocking singsong tone.

Steve just grunts something Dustin doesn't catch, he's too busy listening to Robin launching into a series of complaints about the prospect of walking back to the town centre from Loch Nora.

Robin stops mid-rant as she tries to spin at the same time she hops into one of her boots, almost falling straight into the coat rack.

She frowns, "Did you just imply we weren't friends, Little Dude?"

Dustin pinches his nose, "Are you coming, or not?"

Eddie watches, craning his neck to peek over to the front door. When he hears it click shut, he flicks the blanket away and begins pulling on Steve's pyjama sleeve.

"Now that Rob is gone, you wanna get back in bed, Stevie-Bear?"

He is practically on his feet before he finishes talking, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Steve leaps up and wraps his arms around his middle, already setting about waddling them as one cozy blob towards the stairs.

"Duh."