#but. I wish he would eat his sweet potatoes. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

puck-luck · 2 months ago

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have your cake | quinn hughes

warnings: overstimulation, multiple orgasms, oral (fem!receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, coming on reader's body, subspace (not directly called that but gf is DEEP in SOME headspace) pairing: birthday boy!quinn hughes x fem!reader summary: it's quinn's 25th birthday, so fem!reader gives him the chance to do his favorite thing in bed for as long as he would like. wc: 2992

“Thank you for dinner, sweetheart,” Quinn says, bringing his napkin to his face and wiping his mouth. “And thanks for not making my birthday such a big deal.”

He had asked for such, so you were just trying to follow his wishes. The Canucks hadn’t had a game today, so Quinn had gone to practice like normal. He had grabbed a drink with Petey, Garly, and J.T. afterward as a special treat for his birthday. You know that Tocchet had asked catering to make Quinn a singular birthday cupcake, since he isn’t the biggest fan of sweets during the season.

With you, though, he just wanted to spend his time. You made him a steak, his favorite. On the side, you baked a potato and heaped a healthy pile of green beans onto his plate. For fun, you made some cheesy garlic bread, and although he doesn’t normally eat gluten during the season, he’s never been able to deny your fluttering eyelashes and doe eyes.

He cleared his plate. He always does, but you feel especially proud of your cooking today.

“You’re welcome,” you respond. “I’m glad you liked it. Has your birthday been good?”

Quinn nods. “It was a good day. Very calm. It’s still weird without Jack and Luke, but I talked to them earlier. They called me before practice, right after they got out of the gym.” He pauses, reaching out with his palm up so you take his hand. “This dinner is the cherry on top.”

“You haven’t even had dessert yet,” you tell him. “Since it’s your birthday, you get to have your cake and eat it, too.” You’d been thinking about the pun for hours. It might not make the most sense, given the dessert that you’re going to offer him in just a few minutes, but you think you’re funny. You’re on the last few bites of your own dinner, so you want to clear your plate and load the dishwasher before you offer him anything.

“Baby, I don’t need anything sweet,” Quinn says. “I already had something today.”

You take the final bite of potatoes, then swallow. You stand, collecting his plate and stacking it atop your own. “You’ll like it, I promise.”

“What is it?” Quinn asks.

“A surprise,” you tease, winking at him as you rinse the debris off of the plates with hot water. Then, you load the dishwasher and wash your hands, drying them with the towel that hangs near the sink.

“You’re such a tease,” Quinn laughs, pretending to chide you for withholding. He stands from the table and washes his own hands, but as soon as he’s done, he takes the opportunity to get handsy with you. He dries his hands on your clothes, leaving wet handprints over your ass and waist, plus one over one of your tits for good measure.

You twist away from him like you hate the antics, but it’s just the precursor to his dessert, which he doesn’t know yet. Sure, he’s probably hoping to get laid tonight– and it is his birthday, after all– but you had other plans.

Quinn rarely gets to do his favorite thing in bed. Part of that is because you’re both busy and when you fuck, you want to fuck. You like getting to the point where Quinn’s ample cock is buried inside you, filling you with his come, all while he murmurs little nothings about “you’re mine,” “gonna put a baby in you,” or the like.

His favorite thing is to lay between your legs and eat you out until your thighs are squeezing his head and covering his ears and suffocating him. Like you said– you’re normally greedy for his cock, even impatient (which is how he often describes your attitude in bed), but today is Quinn’s birthday.

So, if he wants to, and he will want to, he’ll eat your pussy for dessert. He’ll eat you out until he’s had his fill, no matter how many orgasms it takes. You already set two full bottles of water on the bedside table in your shared room, plus you bought some fruit at the store so that you can recharge when he’s done with you. You’re expecting overstimulation, a fuzzy brain, and maybe even tears as a result of the pleasure.

You’re prepared for anything, because you’re at the mercy of the birthday boy today.

“Go to our room,” you tell Quinn. “I’m going to bring you dessert in bed, okay? I’ll be there in a few minutes. Just let me get everything ready.”

“Good idea,” Quinn says. “Then we won’t have to leave bed afterward.”

You playfully roll your eyes at him and shoo him away, but he’s absolutely correct. That’s the whole point.

Quinn goes, blowing you a kiss just before he walks out of sight because he can’t help himself from being silly when you share a domestic evening together.

Once he’s gone, you pretend to prepare a dish. You open and close the fridge a couple of times, you click the lighter like you’re lighting candles, you remove plates and cups from the cupboard so that he hears the clatter and suspects nothing. As you move around the kitchen, shuffling along inconspicuously, you remove your clothes.

Underneath your normal leggings, t-shirt, and one of Quinn’s Canucks sweatshirts lies your favorite part of the outfit. You’d been planning to do this since the end of September, so you’d had plenty of time to go to Victoria’s Secret and buy yourself a black, lace crotchless teddy. Quinn will get to look up at you in the (not-so cheap) fabric and admire how it fits you without sacrificing his ability to eat you out. There’s no barrier between your cunt and his tongue, despite the fact that you’ll still be clothed.

You have planned everything out to the final detail, to the final possibility, and you might be just as eager as Quinn will be when he sees you.

So that you’ll have something to snack on when he’s done, you actually wash the fruit you bought earlier and put it in a bowl. Holding the bowl in one hand, you politely knock on the bedroom door before entering.

Quinn is already in the process of removing his shirt and getting ready for bed. When you walk in, he turns to meet you. When he sees what you’re wearing, he freezes and his lips part in surprise.

In a second, you watch his expression melt into his typical “my brain has turned off and now the only thing that I can think about is getting my girlfriend in bed” look.

“Happy birthday, baby,” you say, biting your lip as you take in his reaction. You put a hand on your hip and pop it to the side, showing off your outfit.

“Are you my present?” He asks, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“I’m your dessert,” you correct.

“Even better,” Quinn decides, crossing the room and getting his hands on you.

“Wait,” You tell him.

Quinn pouts, but drops his hands to his sides.

You give him a little twirl, revealing the way that your behind is only partially covered by the lace of the lingerie. You move slowly, giving him plenty of time to stare at all of the parts of your body, thoroughly taking you in.

He gives you a low whistle as you turn. You touch his jaw when you’re done, then you turn to the bed. You actually crawl from the foot of the bed, giving him a show.

When you collapse against the pillows, making yourself comfortable. Quinn stares at you, walking to the bed and touching your ankle. He draws a star on your skin, surveying the view.

“What can I– what do you want me to do?” Quinn asks, eyes still raking your figure.

“Whatever you want,” you reply. “It’s your birthday.”

“Whatever I want?” Quinn repeats.

You hum in affirmation. “Your fingers, your cock,” you list. You raise your eyebrows, bringing one of your legs up into a bent position. His eyes are drawn to your core. “Your mouth.”

Quinn’s attention snaps to your face.

“Whatever you want,” you confirm again. “For however long you want. All night, even. Birthday boy.”

“I love you,” Quinn says, climbing up onto the bed and settling between your legs. “You’re perfect.”

“I expect the same kind of treatment on my birthday,” you banter back, moving with his touch. He nudges your knee, so you spread your legs for him.

Quinn doesn’t reply, running his fingers over the fabric that lies on either side of your pussy. He pushes his thumb against your clit, applying pressure but not giving pleasure, not yet.

You take it as a sign that you’re in for a long night. So, you shift and make yourself more comfortable. You look down, watching Quinn.

He’s gentle to start. He presses sweet kiss after sweet kiss to your folds, to your clit which is still hidden. He takes his time.

You’re not sure which is true: if you’re wet of your own accord, or if Quinn’s gentle licks and smeared kisses make you that way.

In the end, it doesn’t matter. You’re wet and Quinn’s getting to do what he loves. You’re comfortable, he’s making satisfied noises as he grows more eager, and everything feels good.

You touch his hair, smoothing it off of his forehead. You tilt your head, admiring him with slow blinks and a serene smile on your face.

Quinn has a one-track mind at the moment. Until he’s drawn an orgasm out of you, he won’t look up and check in.

His tongue teases you, traipsing along your slit and circling your clit leisurely. He’ll run his bottom lip over the skin, letting it drag along your core and create unexpectedly satisfying friction. He’ll nose at your clit, bumping his features along your most sensitive points, just because he can. Quinn’s eyes are closed, fully immersing himself in the moment.

He works his tongue into you over time, at first teasing you with flicks and short dips, but it doesn’t take long for him to grow greedy for more– greedy for your release all over the muscle. It’s then that he licks into you as best he can, using his thumb to stimulate your bundle of nerves. He repeats the same motion over and over– prodding his tongue into you, drawing it out… again and again, all the while he’s pressing against your clit.

Your first orgasm builds slowly. Slow and steady wins the race, they always say, and Quinn is drawing the orgasm out of you like the tortoise in this race. You’re starting to feel a bit jumpy, like the rabbit, your hips aching to move beneath him and grind against his face.

But, this is his birthday present. You restrain yourself because it’s his gift. He gets to set the pace. If Quinn wants to make this the most built-up, desperate orgasm of your life, he’s allowed to do so.

It takes minutes. Minutes of Quinn humming and licking and touching you with the pad of his thumb until you feel yourself start to crest over the wave of your climax.

“Close,” you breathe out.

Quinn pays you no mind, just continuing his ministrations until you’re clenching down on his tongue with a whimper. Your hand clutches his hair, trying not to seize up beneath him as you come, riding out the waves with his tongue still poking around inside of you.

He moves more slowly as you come down from your first, withdrawing his tongue from your cunt and licking over the slick that accumulated after your orgasm.

“Again,” Quinn murmurs. He doesn’t allow you to take a breath before he finds your clit with his tongue and latches on.

He seems committed to making your subsequent releases quick. His mouth feels like the tube of a vacuum against your clit, unrelenting and merciless. He’s sucking, and sucking, and sucking.

Quinn is starting to get sloppy. He’s got slick all over his lips, all over his chin. He stares up at you now, nothing behind his hooded eyes. He’s just taking you in, looking at you from his favorite angle.

His hands are resting on the insides of your thighs, laying securely to keep your legs spread for him. His pupils are dilated, massive and dark. His jaw works– you can see the bones in his face shifting as he tastes you. His face is scruffy as he nuzzles against you.

It isn’t long until you come again, just as strong as the first one. This climax seems to hit you harder, just because it came more quickly.

“Another,” he says into your skin, shifting one of his hands to push a finger into your heat. He doesn’t move his mouth from your clit, only intensifying his suction.

“Fuck,” you reply, halfway between a moan and a cry for… something. A break? For more?

You’re not sure. Things are starting to blur together and turn fuzzy. You’ve come twice without a moment of reprise, because that’s what Quinn wants. You’ll give him as many as he desires, until you physically cannot give any more.

You close your eyes and lose track of time, seeing stars the next time Quinn makes you come. He’s worked up to a second finger now, scissoring them and removing his tongue from your clit to shove it between his fingers. All three are inside of you, bringing you over the crest again.

Then, a third finger and his tongue on your nipple.

Then, again, with his tongue on your other nipple.

Another with his mouth pressing insistent kiss after insistent kiss to your cheeks, lips, and neck.

Your vision is black, then reeling with colors like that scene in Ratatouille when Remy mixes all of those different flavors, then like television static on an old TV.

“One more,” Quinn’s voice comes out of the darkness.

You whine, high in the back of your throat.

“I know, sweetheart,” Quinn murmurs. He’s touching your face, wiping underneath your eyes. “I know. You’re doing so well. You’re being so good for me. I love you so much– give me one more on my cock, okay? Then we’ll be done.”

“Quinn,” you keen, opening your eyes and finding it hard to look at him through the wetness there. You hadn’t realized that the overstimulation had gotten to you so much– but that’s what multiple orgasms will do to you. That’s how you react when your body is experiencing so much pleasure that it’s painful.

“That’s right, baby, I’m right here,” Quinn assures you. You can feel his cock nudging against your entrance, which feels like it’s gaping. You’re certain that your clit is swollen from the stimulation, the excessive stimulation. He sinks into you, inch by inch, cooing quietly to keep you grounded. “You’re so close already, I can feel it in the way you’re squeezing me. It’ll be quick, baby, I promise.”

He continues to talk while he fucks you, telling you how good you’ve been. He tells you how sexy you are, how perfect. He tells you how hard he’s been since you walked into the bedroom in your dirty, pretty lingerie and how he honestly thought he was going to come in his pants when you clenched down on his fingers for the third time and a weak dribble of your cum had dripped down his wrist.

You’re far gone. Sure, you’re there– you can feel him inside, pumping into you and throbbing against your walls. You can feel the way Quinn’s lips move over your own when he kisses you and when he speaks, feeding the words directly into your mouth. His fingers are toying with your puffy clit, and you’re sure it feels nice, but all you can feel is heat and friction.

“Quinn,” you say again.

“Let go,” he instructs under his breath. “Let go for me. Come around my cock, baby.”

You nod, agreeing to a seemingly-impossible task.

Quinn is always able to make the impossible happen. Your final climax manifests in shaking legs and bolts of lightning in your stomach, churning and folding in on itself. Your eyes are squeezed shut, tears leaking from the corners, which Quinn kisses away.

He doesn’t come inside you. After you reach your final peak, he pulls out. He jerks himself above you, continuing to kiss your face and praise you for being so good to him. He comes all over your stomach and you’re glad– if he had come inside you, or somewhere equally as sensitive like your tits, it would be far too much when the time came to clean you up. With his cum on your stomach, he’s able to wipe you down without causing you any discomfort.

When it’s all over, he helps you sit up and drink your water. He kisses your temples and your forehead, your cheeks and your jawline. He surrounds you with one of his big t-shirts, like a massive hug, and he pulls you onto his lap so that you can collapse into the crook of his neck. Quinn rubs your back and convinces you to eat some of the berries you brought into the room earlier.

You’re tired when you’re able to verbalize a full sentence again. You’re exhausted, really. Quinn pushed you to your absolute limit, although you’re not dissatisfied with the way things went. You sought a night where he could do whatever he wanted, which he did, and now you want to sleep.

“Happy birthday,” you muster.

Quinn breathes out a chuckle, cradling your jawline as you stain his neck with a splotchy kiss. “Thank you again for being so perfect,” he says. “You made my birthday so special, baby. Let’s sleep, okay? I’ll cuddle you all night long.”

Within minutes, you’re drifting off to the lullaby of his breath.

#puck-luck's fics #andy writes anything🍄#quinn hughes #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes x reader #qh43 #nhl smut #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #hockey smut #happy birthday quinn <3

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shomatoriashi · 1 month ago

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10/19/24; 06:53pm

{ drabbles / headcanons }

[ they comfort you while you’re feeling insecure ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

warnings: dieting is mentioned in sylus’s story. if this is a major trigger for any of you readers, then you don’t need to read this story ♡

it was such a mystery why sylus chose to be with you, of all people.

deep down, you knew he could pick any woman in the entire universe-

so why did he have to settle down with someone as plain as you?

why did you feel like a sack of potatoes while standing next to sylus?

why did the haughty laughter that came from the usual women sylus made business deals with affect you so much?

a particularly bad memory resurfaces, and you bite down harshly at your bottom lip, recalling a time where sylus had invited you to a business dinner with him. while he spoke about plans of expanding onychinus, the mafia boss’ daughter sneered at you, her slender yet curvaceous body made you feel worse about your own self image. you barely picked at your plate of food, knowing that you were far from being slender, and you became increasingly aware of how the curve of your abdomen could be seen from your tight dress.

needless to say, you didn’t have much of an appetite after that meeting.

with the memory of that woman’s sneer still fresh in your mind, you decided to diet a bit while cutting down the amount of foods you ate. you no longer snacked on your favorite sweets and tried to eat more steamed vegetables, avoiding carbs and proteins altogether. you figured since vegetables were like a superfood, then you’d be able to drop down some pounds and obtain a much better figure-

one that was more suited to remain by sylus’s side.

a week into your new diet, you did feel a bit lighter, and as you watched the pounds decrease, you had plans of further decreasing your calorie count-

however, sylus manages to put a hard stop to it. while you were making a simple dinner that consisted of a plain salad, sylus was felt sneaking up from behind you, trapping your form from behind him. you gasp and look up at him, feeling the way his large hand encircles around your wrist.

“s-sylus? what are you doing?” your eyes were wide, watching as he remains silent all while holding your wrist within the palm of his hand.

“you’ve lost some weight.” sylus tells you with his eyebrows furrowed. he takes a hold of your chin and forces you to look at him, “and don’t think for a minute that i haven’t noticed the change in your diet. although steamed vegetables and salads are good for you, they’re not enough to sustain you.”

hearing the concern in his voice makes you break down immediately. the hunger pangs came back to you at full force, making you wince as you land against sylus. “s-sorry, it’s just… i always feel so bad when i stand next to you.”

tears were streaming down your face, and sylus merely hums in response, taking you in his arms while allowing you to vent about your feelings.

“i-i’ve never really been too skinny… because of my appetite. and i guess… it’s just, being next to you and seeing all the women that’s part of your world- it bothers me how i’m not like them, and-“

sylus then silences the rest of your words with a searing kiss. he would not listen or tolerate you speaking down to yourself ever again, and as your lover, it was his responsibility to make sure you felt beautiful every single minute.

once he was certain you had calmed down, he pulls away from the kiss first, resting his forehead against yours while saying your name in an almost exasperated manner.

“there’s a reason why i never wish to be with those women, and that’s because they can never be you. i wish you could see yourself through my eyes and realize just how beautiful you are to me.”

tears began filling your vision, making sylus smile sweetly at you as he gently caresses at your hair, “you don’t need to do anything- to change anything about yourself. what i feel for you is, and always will be, something unconditional. so please, don’t starve yourself and cut out the nutrients you need. you need to eat a thick steak to build your muscles and maintain your energy. pasta and bread can help with filling you up, and i know how much you love sharing ice cream sundaes with me as well.”

feeling so grateful at having such a wonderful boyfriend like sylus, you lean up to press another lingering kiss against his lips, all while telling him, “ah, a steak with some buttered rolls and a salad sounds so good right now.”

sylus lets out a rich chuckle, pressing a kiss against your hair before heading towards the stove all while rolling up his sleeves, “you got it, sweetheart.”

when you woke up this morning, you felt distracted by your reflection, feeling a shudder run down your spine at seeing the various acne that littered your face.

never one to have clear skin, you found yourself pouting at your reflection. as you looked at the new patches of acne settled against your cheek, you frown. it wasn’t like you didn’t take care of your skin. every night, after you showered, you always made sure to wash your face while keeping it moisturized while doing your usual routine-

yet that didn’t seem to be enough, as you always seemed to breakout at the most inopportune times. perhaps today was a bit more meaningful since zayne’s parents were going to stop by the house and have dinner with the both of you.

you had never met zayne’s parents before, and the fact that he invited them over just to finally meet you was both endearing and overwhelming for you. deep down, you were afraid that his parents would reject you, labeling you as beneath their son while harshly telling him that he could do so much better than you.

those self deprecating thoughts kept repeating themselves within your mind, causing you to panic. leaning closer to the mirror, you focused on the patch of acne and tried to pop each and every one of them. it felt like your hands kept clawing at your face, making your eyes water as you tried to get rid of the acne the best way that you knew how to.

you jump slightly upon hearing a knock at the door, hearing zayne’s voice calling out your name before entering the bathroom. he sees the tears in your eyes and how your fingertips were placed against the bumps seen on your cheek.

he frowns, shutting the door from behind him while taking quick strides towards you. “what are you doing?”

your lips began to tremble, giving zayne a defeated expression as you angrily wiped away at your tears. “s-sorry, i just… i feel so mad right now, with my face breaking out like this. and i’m going to see your parents soon, and i look like a mess. i’m terrified that they’re going to compare me to you and say that you deserve so much better-!”

zayne suddenly cuts you off by bringing you into his arms, wrapping you in a tight embrace while drawing comforting circles behind your back. you cling to him like a lifeline, allowing the tears to stain at the front of his shirt.

“don’t ever speak that way about yourself ever again.” zayne tells you in a whisper, pressing a kiss against your temple before framing at your face. he takes a moment to admire your features all while running the pad of his thumb against the patch of acne seen against your skin.

“these… don’t bother me at all. to me, you have always been achingly beautiful in my eyes. and that is never going to change. the whole reason i wanted to invite my parents over was so that they could meet you and know that i am serious about you- about us.”

he smiles down at you, taking in your cute pout before leaning closer to press a chaste kiss against your lips, “now, don’t pick at them anymore. give them some time to heal, and just make sure you wash your face every day to help.”

feeling immensely better now, you throw your arms around zayne, pulling him close as you giggled, allowing him to pick you up as he headed towards the walk in shower, “did you wish to shower together? perhaps then, i could show you just how beautiful you are to me.”

and truly, who were you to deny the love of your life?

to say you were amazed at managing to capture xavier’s heart would be the understatement of the century. in fact, how you both met was under some unorthodox conditions.

you had simply been running errands when an outbreak of wanderers were seen just a few blocks away from you. you had unknowingly stepped into danger, and when you were close to get attacked by one of the monsters-

xavier had appeared before you, slashing away at the wanderer with his weapon. he keeps himself in front of you, not daring to move away from you until the threat has been eliminated. throughout it all, you were in a daze, simply admiring how swift and deadly xavier’s movements were as he dealt with the rest of the wanderers.

only when the coast was clear did he finally meet your gaze. “are you okay?”

you could only manage to give him a nod, ready to thank him when a stern voice breaks through, “xavier, is everything alright on your end?”

you look back to see a stern, but beautiful woman taking quick strides the hunter you assumed was known as xavier. he sheathed his weapon and gives the woman a slight bow. “yes, i’ve dealt with the wanderers here on the eastern part of the city.”

“good. i’ll go ahead and assess the damage with the others.” she runs a hand across her sandy brown hair, leaving you alone with xavier. trying to ignore your own features and how plain you felt in comparison to the woman, you thank xavier for protecting you before telling him you would head home.

the young hunter prevents you from leaving him, gently encircling his hand around your wrist. “wait, let me escort you home, just to be safe.”

seeing the way his sapphire eyes were shining brightly against the sunlight made your knees feel weak for him. giving him a stiff nod, you allow xavier to walk with you back to your apartment complex, convincing yourself that this would be the first and last time you would see him.

so imagine your surprise when he walks with you up to your apartment all while sweetly asking you if you’d like to go out on a date with him sometime. of course, you were filled with shock, remaining flabbergasted as you struggled to find the right words to say.

yet at the end of it all, you accepted his offer for a date. and one date turns into two dates, then three-

and you found yourself remaining together with xavier for close to a year now.

you couldn’t understand what xavier saw in you, since each time you would see xavier work at the association, you became achingly aware of how gorgeous his female coworkers were. this left you feeling a little more than inadequate, wondering why you agreed to be with xavier when he was surrounded by so many girls that were prettier than you.

and such thoughts were enough to render you useless, making you lay in bed for the entirety of the day. as you wallow in your thoughts, you heard your phone go off with your usual text tone. curious as to who was texting you, you look at your screen and freeze, reading xavier’s text:

hey, i got off early. u wanna hang out together? i’m free.

pursing your lips, you leave his text on read, tossing your phone aside before wrapping your blankets tightly around your form. a few seconds later, your phone goes off at least 5 more times, and you were certain it was xavier trying to reach you once more.

you remain in bed, dozing off here and there while wrapped up in your cocoon. you lost track of time, and stiffen when you heard the sound of your front door opening. feeling panicked now, you quickly sit up in bed, hearing footsteps walk into your apartment, revealing xavier just a few moments later with a bag of takeout in his hand.

“hey, i got worried when you didn’t text or call me back, so i figured i’d stop by and check on you.” xavier was frowning slightly, settling the bag of food on top of your desk before sitting on the bed with you.

you run a hand across your tangled locks of hair, “uhm, how did you get in here?”

xavier hums, reaching into the confines of his sweater to pull out your spare key settled on a lanyard. “you gave this to me during our four month anniversary, remember?”

you felt your cheeks heat up in response, leaning forward to gently trace at it. “y-you kept this on you all this time?”

xavier nods, all while gently gripping at your hand, “what’s bothering you.”

“nothing’s bothering me.” you tell xavier a little too quickly, making his frown deepen in response. he ends up tightening his grip on your hand. “that’s not true, and i want you to be honest with me.”

meeting his gaze, you could see the determination shining in them before sighing. “i…i feel really plain in comparison to the women you surround yourself with at the hunters association.”

you watch as xavier’s eyes go wide at your admission, yet still, you continue to explain to him, “i just… i feel like im not pretty enough compared to them. and it- it really is such a mystery why you’re here with me.”

xavier shakes his head for a brief moment before surging forward, giving you a searing kiss as his lips were perfectly slotted against yours. you moan into his kiss, allowing your fingers to delve into his hair as he deepens it.

once he was satisfied with the kiss, xavier pulls away from you, all while flashing you a gentle smile. he frames at your face once more and rests his forehead against yours, “the reason for me being here with you is simple, really, and it’s solely because i love you. you make me so happy, and i love being able to protect you while keeping you in my arms.”

“to me, no other woman can compare to you… and i like you best when you have no makeup on and are in comfortable clothes.” xavier smiles and nuzzles the tip of his nose against yours, “to me, you’re beautiful at all times of the day.”

feeling your heart soar thanks to his honest words alone, you fling your arms around your beloved, holding him close while basking in his kisses. and when he moves his kisses away from your lips and towards your features, you allow xavier to kiss away every insecurity that you felt.

the whole world knew of how beautiful rafayel was-

and that was what sent your thoughts down into a spiral, with you wondering what he even saw in you to begin with.

your first meeting started out as nothing short of romantic. by some twist of fate, you and rafayel happened to frequent at the same café, and as you were scrolling through your phone while taking sips of your coffee, you became aware of a cute boy heading towards you from your periphery.

he smiles at you, amethyst eyes shining with amusement and mirth as he slides a torn piece of sketch paper toward you. on the paper was by far the prettiest rendition of your likeness that you had ever seen. you were honestly impressed by this young man’s talent and asked him if this was how he truly saw you.

he ends up nodding his head in answer to your question. “absolutely. you’re utterly gorgeous, and i knew i had to try and capture your features into my memories somehow. the name’s rafayel, by the way.”

despite your best efforts, you end up grinning widely at him while telling rafayel your own name. the young artist repeats it, as if tasting the syllables on his lips while leaning closer to you. “say, would you like to keep this sketch i made of you?”

“y-yes! i’d love to keep this!” you end up holding the piece of paper close to your chest, earning a rich chuckle from rafayel.

“if that’s the case, then you’ll have to pay for it; and the only payment i’ll accept is if you agree to go on a date with me.”

oh, this guy was a smooth one, and he had caught you-

hook, line, and sinker.

of course, you agreed to go on a date with him-

yet that one date was enough for rafayel to claim you as his girlfriend.

and you’ve been with him ever since.

rafayel was by far the sweetest, and most gorgeous man you had ever dated. sure, you had your bumpy moments-

but the love and happiness you felt with him was something that couldn’t be ignored. he was worth every ounce of your time, (even if he had a tendency to be moody and spoiled).

however, with your growing happiness when it came to being in a relationship with rafayel, there was a lingering sense of doubt as well. for starters, you didn’t look quite as perfect as rafayel did, with you having acne scars scattered throughout your body (mainly on your face and your back).

these lingering scars was what made you shy away from more loose fitting clothes, with you often wearing long sleeved shirts or sweaters to keep your lingering acne and scars hidden.

in fact, you hated them so much that you couldn’t stand to look in the mirror at times.

feeling anxious and unable to keep still, you decide to stop pacing around your shared bedroom, not wishing to distract rafayel as he painted his latest piece. grabbing a plush towel, you head into the bathroom and turn on the faucet of the walk in shower all while shrugging off your clothes in the process.

settling the towel off to the side, once you were bare, you get into the shower and remain beneath the shower spray, basking in the heat. you continue to remain motionless, all while resting your head against the slick shower wall.

you had no idea how long time had passed, and only jumped when you heard rafayel’s voice calling out to you.

“i heard you were in the shower for roughly half an hour now and got concerned, so i’m coming in.”

protests were heard coming from your parted lips, yet rafayel ignored every single one of them, tossing his clothes in a pile before entering the shower with you. his bright eyes remained filled with love for you when he grabs the bottle of body wash and places a significant portion on the sponge. with a hum of your name, rafayel slowly begins lathering the soap all across your form.

“what’s on your mind, princess?” you shiver, feeling your entire body relax as rafayel worked on cleaning your body. taking in a deep breath, you gather your thoughts for a moment before finally admitting to him, “i’m just… feeling really insecure. i keep thinking as to why you’re with me.”

rafayel stops washing your body to let out a scoff. “i’m insulted you feel this way. what do you even mean?”

“i-i mean, look at me, rafayel. i have lingering acne scars on my back, and i don’t have a face that would make people turn their heads to get a better look at me. i’m no ravishing beauty-“

rafayel then presses a lingering kiss at the back of your naked shoulder, making your breath hitch in response. he continues kissing you, trailing his lips softly against your skin as you felt his every touch on your back. as evident from his movements, it was clear that he was kissing at the acne scars that marred your back.

“do you remember the day we first met, and i had given you that sketch?”

you shiver in response, managing to nod in reply to his question. of course you remembered that day, how could you possibly forget what had to have been the happiest day of your life?

“that day, when i first saw you and how you casually sipped at your coffee, i was drawn to the soft and natural beauty you had. i don’t care about models or any other beauty standard that girls tend to follow. what drew me to you was how you seemed to exude a hidden kindness… and just… knew then that i had to capture your features and forever immortalize it in that drawing.”

he places one last kiss against your back before turning you around so that you could face him. tears were seen welling up in your eyes, and you couldn’t stop them from cascading down your face when rafayel frames at them. he caresses at your cheek while telling you, “you have always been the light of my life… and that’s never going to change, because in my eyes, no one would ever be able to compare to you.”

you clench your eyes shut and give him a nod, unable to speak to him due to how much your throat was felt clenching up in response. giving you one last smile, rafayel leans in to quickly give your lips a chaste kiss.

“now, how about we finish this shower, then later on, we’ll order your favorite takeout while watching a movie together.”

more than ready to experience such a fun and relaxing night with him, you give your beloved lemurian a nod before leaning even closer to his touch, allowing him to spoil you as his reverent caresses against your skin makes every insecurity you felt disappear in an instant.

end notes: don’t mind me, i was feeling pretty low about myself and how i looked, and wrote a little something to help with comforting me 🥹 if any of you readers have similar insecurities, then i hope this fic comforted you as well ♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

#sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus x y/n #zayne x reader #zayne x you #zayne x y/n #xavier x reader #xavier x you #xavier x y/n #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #rafayel x y/n #lads x reader #lnds x reader #l&ds x reader #non-mc reader #writings 📖

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thisolrubyriderr · 6 months ago

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gojo nation we MUST stick together so here’s some happy satoru

One thing you loved most about Satoru Gojo, aside from his many lovable qualities, was how much he loved being loved.

He loved they way you would indulge in his silliness, the way you’d get cuteness aggression over him, the way you’d stop whatever it is you’re doing just to cuddle him because god you just can’t get enough of him. Being the strongest was nothing but a side job when he was with you.

Gojo was snuggled up to you on the couch. His face smushed against your chest as you massaged your fingers through his fluffy hair. You could practically hear him purring like a kitten out of contentment. He was being a bit more of a baby than usual today, but you’d be a fool to act like you didn’t love it.

“Y/nnnnn,” the man whined as he turned to look at you with his pretty blue eyes, resting his chin on your chest, “Entertain me!”

You didn’t respond but instead you held his face in your palms and squished his cheeks. You kissed his lips as they poked out from his little face.

“Hey! Don’t ignore me!” He said in a muffled voice. He attempted to pout but it faded the second he heard your sweet laughter.

“I’m sorry bunny but I couldn’t resist. What do you want to do?” you said to him softly.

“I- ”

Before he could even begin his sentence, you squeezed him. You pulled this 6’3 man up closer to your face and squeezed him, pressing your cheek against his. You don’t know what came over you or what super strength you suddenly possessed to move your log of a boyfriend, but you did it.

You gently shook him as you held him in a bear hug. You placed sloppy kisses all over his cheeks. You bit him. You tickled him. He was just so adorable and you loved him so much. You wanted to fling him around like a chew toy.

“Baby whahaha what’s going ohohon?” Satoru giggled as you tickled him. His laughter was so sweet it made you wanna keep going, but you stopped so you could place both your hands in his hair.

“I can’t help it Toru! You just look like a little sweet potato! I love you soooo much I just wanna eat you.” You said, reveling in the sound of his purrs once you started playing with his hair again.

“Sweets you know I’d let you eat me any day. I’m sure I taste as good as I look.” Satoru smirked. He was soaking up all the attention you were giving him and he was absolutely loving it.

He rolled over on his back and you were now on top of him. You took your time to admire him in this position. He looked so at peace with you. You could tell he was happy, and that’s all you ever wanted for him. If you couldn’t give him anything, you’d do anything to give him happiness. To the world he was nothing but a weapon that wasn’t valued for anything other than his abilities. But you saw past that. You saw his soul, everything that made him a human. He was never the strongest to you. He was your Toru. He was your stinky. He was your mochi poo. He was just Satoru. And that would always be more than enough for you.

“Hey you,” he poked your cheek, bringing you out of your thoughts, “why’d you stop? Keep loving me!”

And who were you to deny him of what he deserved?

“Of course sweet pea.” You chuckled, pushing his hair back to kiss his forehead.

You continued to kiss his features, then lightly tracing them with your fingers. Satoru was so content and relaxed that he drifted off into a light slumber with a smile on his face, replacing it with a pout whenever he felt the absence of your touch. He may have known that he was a big baby, spoiled from all your love, and clingy as hell. But there was one thing he may not have known that you wished every day and night he did. What it was you may ask?

You would let the world burn for him.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #my baby deserved better #fuck you gege

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thoughtsonkm · 3 months ago

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Mimi-san & Kookoo-san

This photo really fulfills my need for aesthetic shots

This episode (and probably the whole trip) is like the biggest, warmest, lingering hug someone could give you. Not letting go for a long time, until after it's over you're left with a full heart, teary eyes and a sense of unprecedented calmness.

So no Tokyo for us (as expected). That city really is theirs and theirs ONLY. (I read that ppl saw them with a camera in that ramen shop in Tokyo, so now everyone's thinking of a possible GCF #2 but that would be INSANE)

Jimin stop ruining the romantic moments JK creates, challenge failed! (he really does live up to the "conceal, don't feel" idea)

This ritual of Jimin singing Kook's new singles on each trip, is very very cute.

THE BABIEST OF THEM ALL another bean here⬆️

Did they lowkey have a gentle monster sponsorship? Way to go Jikook 👏🏻👏🏻

I know it's always been Jimin's go to brand for glasses so it feels kinda full circle. He should be some kind of brand ambassador for them.

Oh hello mister 'I can eat yo fingers but not yo potato peel' (I get it tho)

This is the single softest Jikook moment ever!! Period. End of discussion.

Sharing earphones, romantic music, beautiful scenery, calm setting, head on shoulder. - Who says romance is dead? 😭

Not even the background animation can ruin this for me. (ingenious idea nonetheless)

I CANNOT deal with the sweetness of this daughter talk. DO THEY KNOW WE'RE INSANE??

My guy starts talking about a family. The other guy he's gripping tight is already discombobulated, gulping, eyes going left and right lol

Jokes aside he really would be the most gentle, bestest, most caring dad ever 😭 (I promised myself to not get emo during this episode, I'm saving the waterworks for the inevitable last ep.)

I do remember they (especially Jimin) used to be pretty fluent in japanese so I'm guessing since they haven't done Japan promo since 2021, they forgot a little bit..

Imagine Jimin in a jazz bar with a 10 year old whiskey in hand, flirting with his bf.. Improv kings!

Happiness looks so good on them.

I love that from time to time they almost forgot they had a show to shoot. A DAMN JOB to do 😂

I present you a compilation of Jungkook saying how happy he is, how much he loves it and how good it is, during this episode.

LOL at them doing the english meme thing. Just two simple guys with ONE BRAINCELL. Looks like one of those random af videos they would watch while learning english.

Oh yes, we do indeed enjoy y'all gradually getting raggedy and fat 😂😂 He's hilarious, he's on a roll ladies and gents.

Jungkook half wishing they were the same age so they could "twin" even more (I'm sure that would be so convenient for you Jk 👀) as if it's possible for them to be even more on the same wavelength than they already are.

I do feel like in the distant future it would be such a good option for them to transfer and live in Japan cause it does seem like their favourite place in the whole world and the one place they feel themselves the most.

Sapporo in their 40es would be like a little hidden paradise for them to be somewhat free..

(let me dream)

#jikook #kookmin #jimin #jungkook #bts #bangtan #are you sure?!#jikook travel show #ep. 6 #september 2024

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trashmouth-richie · 1 year ago

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masterlist

eddie x fem reader

chapter summary: how sweet it is, to be loved.

series summary: You were desperate for a roommate after Nancy got married and moved out. An ad in the paper goes unanswered until someone comes knocking on the door.

special thanks: to anyone and everyone who read a single chapter or kept up with this series to the end, thank you so much- this story wouldn’t be possible without your support.

author’s note: I can’t believe this is the final chapter for this series, I’m feeling so many emotions right now but mostly just love for Eddie and Tooty and everything in between. Thank you to anyone who has helped me beta ( @sweetsweetjellybean especially!)this story or fan girled with me over upcoming chapters. To any of the very talented artists who have made any art for this series, thank you so very much, each and every piece holds such a special place in my heart. To anyone who is mentioned in this story, thank you so so much, @loveshotzz @chechelia @carolmunson @mopeymopeymouse and everyone else— thank you for allowing me to include you in this series. To everyone who has liked, rb’d left a comment or interacted in any way with this series— THANK YOU. This series has brought such joy & heartache to me, and I’m so lucky to have people enjoy it. 🖤

Cereal

Hotdogs

Bananas

Jelly —grape, not strawberry

Bread

Crackers

Toothpaste

Noodles

Chicken thighs— babe are you making fun of me?

Heartburn medicine

You tap the chewed cap of your pen along the lined paper of a scribble heavy grocery list. Desperately wishing you had x-ray vision to see inside your cabinets and remember what you were in need of, you chew the cap again.

Giggling to yourself every so often at Eddie’s notes on the grocery list. Crossing off items he thought weren’t needed, mostly vegetables he didn’t like. And always making sure you got his favorites. And not, “that healthy bullshit cereal, give me sugar or kill me babe, I will not eat Raisin Bran”

Peanut butter

Sunny D

Thyme

Heavy cream

Basil

Carrots

Onions

Chicken stock

Hey sweetheart can you please get me some candy? I like skittles but you know I love m&ms.. and twizzlers, it’s for the shop. :)

The lady behind the desk chirps a name again, but you are still racking your brain on what else was needed. The soup you had planned on making tonight would be perfect for the chilly weather rolling in. November was coming in like a lion, ferociously cold and temperatures already dipping below zero.

Eddie loved your potato soup, so much that he begged you to make it after another long, grisly week at the shop.

He loved everything you made, even your chili that he doctored up by adding sour cream and Doritos to it. Bon Appetit he would say with a smirk on his lips, a heaping bowl steaming in front of him.

The clerk behind the desk tutted and huffed, the schedule was getting behind.

“Tooty Munson! Is there a Tooty Munson here?”

You glance up quickly at the sound of your name, “shit,” you breathe, “here, yes,” you scramble shoving the list and pen into your purse, buried amongst the gum wrappers and a spilled container of tic-tacs.

The receptionist clicks her papers against the formica counter and holds her nose in the air, as if this job and you were beneath her.

“He’s ready for you now.”

—-

“…alright, Ed, did ya look o’er those applications yet? ‘Tween you D and Mike I don’t think we are going to be able to keep up everything that we got on the schedule.”

Wayne’s eyebrows are raised as he looks over the bifocals perched on his nose. He had been scouring over the schedules and the books for the better half of the afternoon since lunch hour—trying to figure out how to swing their overloaded schedule.

It wasn’t that they couldn’t do the work, they were simply short handed. After Boom closed his doors in Hawkins, he had recommended to his regulars that they travel to Bridgeport to Master Mechanics to see Eddie and Wayne. Business was booming, and the Munson’s could barely keep up.

Early on, Wayne and Eddie decided they would only be open until noon on Saturday’s but now with the packed schedule, they worked til almost dark every night of the week, including some Sundays.

Wayne rubs his short nails through his scratchy mostly white scruff, “we can’t have these boys workin’ like this, they’ll quit on us before you can slap a tick.”

Eddie was leaning against the doorway, a bottle of Coca Cola held limp in his hand, a greasy rag stuffed in his back pocket.

“Yeah,” he yawns, stretching out his back, “let’s hire ‘em all, we need the extra hands, or I’m gonna need an extra back.”

Wayne grunts in confirmation. The highlighter squeaks as it’s drug across the phone numbers on the applications, “I’ll call ‘em first thing in the morning,” he straightens up his desk and shoves the papers into a drawer.

His glasses clink as he folds them up and lays them next to a picture of the newlywed Munson’s. He leans back in his chair, the leather crinkling beneath his worn coveralls, “I’m callin’ it for the day,” he exhaled, staring up at the ceiling, “it’s been one helluva week and I’m shot, tell the boys to go home to their wives.”

“and you too,” he points, “go take care of your wife, Ed, tell her I hope she starts to feelin’ better.”

Eddie’s curls bounce as he nods his head, completely drained from the week, shit maybe he was getting sick too? “she went to the doctor today, probably just the flu, Max told her it was going around.”

“Well then,” Wayne says, standing up and clicking off the table lamp, “take tomorrow off and rest–

both of ya, hear me?”

“Don’t need to tell me twice.”

—

Eddie’s tires crunch on the ice and hard packed snow of the driveway, a silent serenity, meaning he is only moments away from holding you in his arms, seconds away from kissing your lips, and if he was lucky, minutes from eating something delicious to fill his grumbling stomach.

He throws the truck into neutral, killing the engine and tossing the keys around his finger. Tracks from your Jeep tires lead into the garage he had built last spring. A huge project that your friends were paid in beer and a bonfire when it was all finished.

Thrusting his sore hands into his canvas coat, he ducked his chin into the zipper and braved the asthma inducing gust of wind to the front door as it whipped through his curls.

The house was oddly quiet, only the hum of the refrigerator making any sort of sound. Usually when he came home you’d be playing the radio, or talking on the phone to Max or Nancy, greeting him with a pop of your head around the wall in the kitchen or from the hallway, the prettiest smile put on your lips.

“Princess?” he called out in endearment as he untied his boots and put them on the shoe rack. His coatwas already hanging on its hook, usually next to your purse but your purse was thrown onto the arm chair, and your shoes were in the hallway like you had walked right out of them.

He undid the buttons of his work blues, letting them hang at his waist like a mechanic cape. Socked feet trudge down the carpeted hallway, you must not be feeling any better, probably too exhausted to make it out of bed.

But Eddie was wrong.

You were perched on top of the comforter, coat still on but unzipped staring at the door waiting for his arrival, fuzzy socks on your wiggling toes.

“Hey, handsome,” you said, trying to keep your pitch even.

“There’s my girl,” his velvet voice wrapping around you like a hug as he crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for your left hand and kissing the finger that adorned the prettiest ring he’d ever bought, “how’s my beautiful wife?”

It had been five months since you said I do. A June wedding in your own backyard, filled with friends who had served as family for years, gathered by your sides.

“I forgot the potatoes,” you say blankly, a weird little smile on your face.

Eddie sits down next to you, rubbing your thigh back and forth and letting out an exhausted yawn, “That’s alright, I can make us some grilled cheese if you’re up for—”

“I was looking at my grocery list, and couldn’t remember what I’d forgot.”

Eddie’s confused, but wants to reassure you that its no big deal, he’s a grown man he can certainly make supper for himself and his wife. “Sweetheart it’s okay, don’t beat yours—“

“Can’t make potato soup without potatoes.” And this time you laugh, kind of whimsically and in disbelief.

His brows turn inward, still he just keeps reassuring you that everything is fine, “It’s okay Tooty, seriously. Let me go make you some—”

And for the third time tonight, you interrupted him, “doctor said that’s normal.”

He’s exhausted and is honestly more confused than he would like to admit, “what? The flu?”

“No, no. “ you say, a twisted little smirk on your face, “forgetting things, throwing up in the morning, being exhausted… totally normal.”

“Babe?” He moves to touch the back of his hand to your head, wincing when he realizes that he’s probably freezing.

“I was so scared the last time,” you whisper, teary eyed, “terrified.. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but now—.”

Eddie reaches for your cheeks, holding them softly, his eyes searching yours, desperate to figure out what the hell is going on, “what am I missing here? It’s normal to have… the flu?”

“No, it’s not the flu,” you finally admit, looking up at him and rubbing the back of his hands with your thumbs,

“Eddie, I’m pregnant.”

—

You could fill an empty pool up from the tears that sprung from Eddie’s eyes that night. He was overjoyed, holding you tight while he wept into your hair. Kissing your belly and whispering to the baby. Small streaks of tears flowing down your swollen skin and the faded scar across your lower belly.

Each month that ticked by, Eddie’s worry only doubled.

The day after you had found out, he woke early. Watching as your chest rose and fell as you slept soundly in the original mock up of his hellfire shirt.

It was threadbare, cotton worn so thin it was practically see through— but you claimed it as your own back in the early days of your new relationship, hands on your hips and the infamous pout on your lip as you playfully argued with him about how it was now yours.

Dusk painted the diamond covered ground from the fresh snow over night. Falling as delicately as his lips allover your skin. Soaking up the dainty noises from your throat when he carefully slid into you, tears spilling from both of your eyelashes, love filling the room more sweetly than it ever had before.

The soft cotton of the blankets hugged your curves, and he exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he gazed down at his beautiful— now pregnant— wife.

His sweet Tooty, carrying a gift more precious than gold.

Kissing your cheek—he dressed quietly, scribbling a note on the bedside table about going into town for a bit, but to just relax in bed until he got home.

You were having a dreamless sleep, not even sugarplums could dance in your head with the overwhelming exhaustion that your body was trying desperately to catch up from.

Something cold then silky smooth brushed against your cheek, and a velvet voice sang a little good morning greeting into your ear. Your loving husband. Pressing sweet angel kisses behind your ear and on your eyelids.

Your bedroom was lit with the glow of a warm sun in the afternoon light. Playing a yellowed hue of warmth across your comforter, pulling the caramel color from Eddie’s curls and making his eyes look like a dreamy cup of coffee swirling with creamer.

His lips hug yours, both smiling into one another. Heart swelling more than your toes would in the months to come.

C’mon, got a surprise for you, princess.

The spare bedroom that was once a room for band equipment, then Max’s bedroom for almost a year before she eventually moved in with Gareth and Will, now held storage, was completely organized, and held a wide array of items.

A crib, brand new and still in the box, a pack n play, a swing, every box of diapers ranging from size 1 - 5, baby gates, outlet covers, fancy locks for cabinets and drawers, rubber bumpers for sharp corners and edges of tables.

A bookshelf full of baby books, how to’s for new parents, nursery rhymes by mother goose, books suggesting baby names and their meanings, and a guide on how to quit smoking.

Tucked into the corner of the room by the bookshelf and near the window, was a rocking chair.

“Eddie,” you gasp, running sleep from your eyes, “wh-what is all of this?”

He’s smiling ear to ear, trying to curb his enthusiasm a tiny bit. “I might have gotten a little carried away.”

Turning towards the shelf you see a plastic sack, full of candy and bubble gum, and mints. “Edward Joseph Munson.”

“Don’t scold me, mama,” he jokes, grabbing onto your hips and kissing your hairline, “I’m just spoiling our baby.”

God you loved this man, he’d break his neck to give you the world. He was the most loving husband, and now you got to see him step into a new role. One completely foreign to you both, only have shared the idea for a few moments before it was ripped away.

You lean into him, holding him tight and working your nose into the crook of his neck. “You’re gonna be the best dad, Eddie.”

He doesn’t hide the tear that slips down his cheek, just lets it slide and collect under his chin, his voice is quiet when he asks, “you really think so?”

“I know it.”

—

Wayne and Karen followed behind the new family in his pickup all the way home from the hospital. They were going to stay for a few days, help you both get adjusted to life as parents.

Karen and Nancy had filled your freezer with casseroles, soups and fresh bread. It was a hot July day when you were scheduled for the c section, and when it was all said and done four days in the hospital was more than enough and you were ready to be at home, snuggled up with your new family.

It was a battle of which Munson man could shed the most tears. Eddie and Wayne were both wiping away tears for hours. Overjoyed with emotions that everyone was healthy.

“No you don’t,” Wayne said as you reached for the back door to grab the diaper bag, “you go right inside and get comfy, get them legs up!”

You do as your told, leaving Wayne, Eddie and Karen to carry the load in. The hospital stay was overwhelmingly sweet, but you knew Eddie was itching to get back to normalcy, still not liking the way he felt cooped up in the hospital even though it had been years since you both had the horrifying visit.

Bags and suitcases are carried in and set into your master bedroom to be unpacked later, bottles and diapers are stacked and put into their respectable places. Karen starts warming up the chicken casserole she had prepared earlier that day. Wayne fussed around with the new dishwasher that he and Eddie had installed the month prior.

Throughout the commotion you had fallen asleep, legs propped up in the recliner, but you woke to the sound of the front door closing, and there he was.

Eddie was holding them both, large hands cocooned around their swaddled little bodies, crooked into each of his arms. Something he was nervous about but slowly getting the hang of, the nurses told him he was a natural, and Wayne wept into Karen’s shoulder when Eddie introduced the twins to their grandpa.

His normal obnoxious voice was murmuring low and quiet like a soft lullaby so as not to stir awake the sleeping little babies.

He looked at them both, adoration and tears springing into his eyes. He had never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life. How he could have helped make something so small and delicate, he wouldn’t understand. But, he didn’t need to.

A boy, born first— with his dark eyes and brown hair, and later the little girl, almost identical to his Tooty, and just as stubborn, both already wrapped around his fingers.

He murmured their names, and caught your eye as he said it, a smile so wide on his face that you were sure new dimples would bust through his cheeks, and you only heard the end of what he was saying.

If you would have told yourself five years ago that you would one day own a home, get married to and have twins with Eddie Munson, you would have laughed on the spot. That loud mouth jackass of a guy you had once regretted letting move into your home, had moved right into your heart and never left.

The demons inside you both were finally at bay, finding solace in one another in more ways than you had thought possible. Being loved by Eddie was everything you had thought love should be like.

And you pinch yourself to make sure it's real, and each and every time, it is.

“…babies,” he says, a smile on his lips and tears in his eyes as he looks over at you, his family, “we’re home.”

The end

♡tag list: @dashingdeb16 @emxxblog @pretendthisnameisclever @mommybaby-witch @eddies-acousticguitar @tlclick73 @figmentofquinn @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @whenshelanded @micheledawn1975 @3rd-conchord * @leelei1980 @browneyes8288 @emilyslutface @mmunson86 @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiesxangel @elegantkoalapaper * @str4ngergirlw0rld * @corrodedcoffincumslut @nailbatanddungeon @crybabyddl @zenathebeautiful @astela17 @taintedcigs @bettyfrommars @munsonsuccubus @munson-blurbs @hollandweather @serasvictoria @steviesgrl @curiositydooropened @ashyyboyy @urlbitchin @sllooney @lame0o @ali-r3n @bangaveragewhitewine @b-irock @enam3l @luxaeterna13 @manda-panda-monium @elthreetimes @joejoequinnquinn

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #honey i’m home #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #stranger things

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salternateunreality2 · 20 days ago

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The Boys with a Stomach Bug (AGSZC)

We saw them with their SO/roommate/friend, now we see how they would act if they were the sick ones!

Angeal:

Mournfully turns into a sad depression rock and hides. He would keep working, but he's responsible enough to know that he's contagious. He tries to take home a huge stack of work, but he can't finish it because he's too miserable.

Passively tries to hint that he wants someone to take care of him, but won't say it outright.

"No, no, it's alright, I wouldn't want you to get sick too..." *Sad cough, despite not being sick with a cough*

He will accept glasses of water delivered to his door, but only if you press him, and he will refuse to let you in.

He will struggle through alone with vaporub on his elbows, powdered Gatorade in a gallon-sized jug, a raw piece of ginger root on his nightstand, and potato peels in his socks.

Genesis:

Canonically, he will make it everyone else's problem too.

Hugging the toilet, asking the goddess why she hath forsaken him. Hugging a bucket, sitting on the SOLDIER common room sofa, asking why no one cares if he dies. Hugging a pillow, asking why Angeal is in the kitchen instead of here with him.

He will try to stay at work, only to dramatically run out of his office to the closest executive bathroom and loudly get sick every hour until he's forcibly sent home.

He will complain about every little annoyance and text regular updates and beg Momgeal to bring him something else.

He will get half the SOLDIERs sick and cause massive staffing shortages.

Sephiroth:

Never gets sick and everyone hates him for that.

HOWEVER, if he gets experimented on or recklessly eats gas station sushi, he turns into the saddest, loneliest, wettest kitten and quietly shuts himself away, wishing for his mother.

If he's expected at work, he attends and just looks miserable the whole time until Lazard sends him home.

He's quieter than Angeal, and doesn't solicit or refuse help, because he doesn't think he deserves it, and is too confused to refuse when it shows up.

He also doesn't help himself. He stays hydrated and minimizes mess, meaning he spends a lot of time lying on the bathroom floor and drinking from the tap until he's operational again.

Where is momther?

Zack:

Gets suddenly and violently ill in the middle of practice.

He doesn't ask for people to show up and take care of him, but they can't help themselves and show up anyway.

As soon as they're in his apartment, he's excited to have friends, but it's pathetic to see, because instead of squatting, he tries a wobbly, tearful grin.

He's not demanding, but he asks for a lot and prefers not to be alone. He likes to sit on the couch, and will ask for popsicles please and soup and water and juice if you don't mind, and then he'll throw up because he tried it too soon.

He recovers quickly and thoroughly, and is jokingly hated for it because what was a 24 hour bug for him has the rest of SOLDIER (who he infected) needing a week off at a time.

He's forgiven, because he's really sweet and helpful to everyone else.

Cloud:

Can't afford time off, so throws up into random bushes and keeps stumbling forward.

He's given 12 hours of leave after he passes out from dehydration and sickness mid-patrol, which means he returns still sick and passes out again.

This time they drop him off in the infirmary to suffer alone until he's cleared for duty.

He's miserable and just sleeps as much as he can and survives out of spite.

He mostly wants to be left alone to perish in peace and is agonizing over how this is going to disqualify him from SOLDIER somehow, until Zack calls.

He doesn't tell Zack what happened until Zack weasels it out of him. Then Zack shows up with Kunsel and a massive cauldron of Angeal's soup.

Cloud pretends to hate it, but secretly soaks up the attention like a sponge until he gets embarrassed and pretends to fall asleep while Zack sings to him.

#ff7 #sephiroth #cloud strife #zack fair #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #emetophobia #(light)

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thebirdandthebee · 2 years ago

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Call Him Daddy (18+)

This one’s short and sweet - trying to bust a writing slump. I could very easily do a part two if there’s interest! Smut ahead :)

Title: Call Him Daddy Bradley’s been waiting for this day for years, but now, you’ve given him the green light. WC: 2187

The first sign of consciousness was soreness. Before you’d even popped your eyes open that morning, you felt the sublime ache between your legs, and oddly, your breasts.

There was no one to blame but your husband, Bradley. Who’d been awake for about half an hour or so, but hadn’t left the confines of your 500-thread-count sheets.

Bradley was on cloud nine because you were officially trying. After he’d been wishing and hoping and being patient for years, you’d finally had the conversation last night. You’d been married for four years after three years of dating and now, you were comfortable with the thought of tackling parenthood with Bradley.

“Babe? Are we out of mayo?” Bradley had called from the kitchen. You’d assembled a nice little table of accouterments, potato salad and chips as he’d grilled burgers for dinner and you were poised to eat out in the backyard.

Bradley, along with the help of a few of his squadron teammates, had finished the fence in the backyard last week and you were now able to enjoy the outdoor space with just a little more privacy.

“It’s on the door!” You called back, excited, nervous energy zipping through your veins. Tonight you were telling Bradley you’d gotten your IUD removed. Your IUD, which he saw as his mortal enemy.

The truth was, Bradley would have been thrilled if you’d gone off your birth control when you’d gotten married four years earlier. He always thought there was something romantic – traditional – about a honeymoon baby. Hell, he would’ve been more than happy if you’d gotten pregnant before you’d tied the knot.

There were few things in this life he wanted more than to be a dad and have a big family. As someone who grew up with so little, the idea of a full house felt like a dream. You had always known about Bradley’s wishes to be a father, and he was understanding that while it was something you wanted to do, be a mother, you wanted to check a few things off your list first.

You wanted to get married, do some traveling, establish a little more financial security and enjoy life with just you and Bradley for a few years. You loved everything about being a pair – Christmas mornings, vacations, nights out with friends – those would all change with a baby. Certainly for the better, but it would be different, and you’d never get that time as just the two of you again.

You’d spent six weeks backpacking through Europe in the fall, and since then, you’d slowly and quietly been making preparations to transition to a family of three.

And tonight, you’d finally tell Bradley.

“Baby, it all looks wonderful,” you smiled as he sat down, placing a big bowl of watermelon, along with a jar of mayonnaise on the table. “Love when you grill,” you leaned over your bistro table to kiss his cheek.

“Thanks Babe,” he grinned, not flinching as you snagged the sunglasses from the collar of his T-shirt and dropped them over your eyes. You’d chatted about the day – your work day was quiet and Bradley was bringing in a special detachment for training over the next eight weeks. Most of all, you enjoyed the gentle breeze and scent of the neighbors’ lilacs.

“I was thinking…” you began, earning a deadpan look from your husband. Anytime you started ‘thinking’ usually ended up in a new project for him. “Now that the fence is up, could we plant some flowers over in that corner there?” You gestured to the far left side of the yard. A simple request.

“Yeah, we can do that pretty easy,” he agreed. “Maybe some bushes in the other, we can mulch around,” he laid out with his hands, pausing to take a big bite of his now assembled burger.

“Mm, I don’t think that corner,” you shook your head, “I want to keep that back wall of the yard clear,” you stabbed a piece of watermelon before taking a bite.

“Okay, maybe back along the right side,” he trailed a finger along the fence line. “Maybe a bonfire pit?” He suggested.

“Oh definitely not,” you shook your head, nibbling away at your dinner.

“Okay – how about a Jacuzzi?” He suggested. “Now that we have the fence, we don’t need to worry about bathing suits,” he grinned, and while it was a great deal of work not to grin back, you somehow managed.

“Nah, I just don’t think we’d get much use out if it,” you shrugged.

“Baby – nothing along the back side, no bonfire pit, no Jacuzzi – what did we fence this yard in for?” He asked, laughing as he polished off his first burger. It was not out of the ordinary for Bradley to put away three or for burgers on a grill night. You wiped your mouth with a napkin, crossing your legs before taking off his sunglasses.

“Know what I’m thinking?” You asked, taking a final sip of your iced tea. “I’m thinking… swing set along the back there – it’s the perfect view from the kitchen,” Bradley set his fork down. “And a bonfire pit will be fun eventually, but little feet running around the backyard make me anxious… and the Jacuzzi – you know I’d love to take a skinny dip with you, but… it’s just not good for pregnant people, I already Googled it.”

Bradley’s brain short-circuited for a moment.

“And how,” he paused to clear his throat,” how long until we need to start worrying about that?”

“Well I just got my IUD out last week, but my doctor said I can get pregnant in my first cycle,” you dragged your fingertip around the rim of your drinking glass. “Not everyone does, but you’ve always been an overachiever,” you said, meeting his gaze.

“Now? We – now?” Bradley asked, sputtering, patting all over his chest and shorts like he’d misplaced his phone.

“Now,” you nodded, barely getting a moment to gauge his reaction before he was out of his seat, shoulder pressing into your midsection as he hoisted you over his shoulder.

You were sure your neighbors heard the terrified scream that morphed into giggles as he all but kicked the back door in.

“Now?” He said to himself in disbelief, suddenly forgetting the layout of his own home, twisting around in circles to find the staircase. “I can’t believe this, I didn’t do anything to prepare!” He said, not even registering that you were swinging around over his shoulder.

“And what exactly would you have done to prepare?” You asked, wondering if squirrels would completely demolish the spread that laid out on the patio table.

“I don’t know, but I would have done something,” he insisted, taking the stairs by two and only mildly terrifying you.

“Oh my God,” he mumbled, setting you down on the mattress gingerly and immediately reaching for the non-existent fly on his shorts, which were held up on a drawstring. His brain, completely scrambled, was not cooperating and he hastily grabbed the waistband and ripped the shorts down his legs.

God you loved his pale thighs.

“Bradley, you don’t need to hurry!” You laughed.

“Of course I do,” he insisted, kneeling on the bed with one leg between yours, getting to work right away on your button-fly shorts. “I want ‘em all, baby,” he insisted. “Boys, girls – lots of ‘em – and I want ‘em now.”

“I thought we said three max?” You asked, peeling off your own top as he made busywork of your panties.

“Three to start,” he elaborated, “fuck I don’t care.” He shook his head. Pausing, he crawled up to meet you at eye-level. “I love you so much,” he said sincerely. “I can’t wait to be a Dad,” he added, “but more than that, I can’t wait to see you be Mom.” You leaned up to kiss him gently, the same mustache you’d been in love with for years tickling you softly. “You’re sure?” he asked, brows furrowing with just a bit of concern.

“I’ve never been so sure about anything,” you replied, pushing your fingers through his hair. “Thank you for being so patient with me,” you added, “it means more than you know.” Bradley, at the risk of getting choked up, simply kissed you once more before pressing his forehead against yours.

“If I get emotional right now I won’t be able to get hard,” he said honestly, making you giggle.

“You’re going to be such a good Daddy,” you breathed into his ear, nipping at his earlobe.

“Just kidding, I’m hard.”

Now, in the morning light, he was watching with moony eyes as you nuzzled down into your pillow. Your eyes fluttered for a moment as you took stock of all the delicious places you were suddenly acutely aware of with a small twist of your body.

“Mornin,’” Bradley murmured, tucking one hand behind his head.

You groaned gently, eyes squeezing shut tight before softly opening.

“Hi baby,” you greeted, blearily rubbing at your face. Eyes not yet focused, you zeroed in on your husband as he gazed over at you lovingly, his hand moving gently up and down beneath his blanket.

“Hi,” he grinned.

“What are you doing, Bradley?” You giggled, feeling like you were catching your 16-year-old boyfriend.

“Waiting for you to wake up,” he replied. “Ready for day two?” He asked.

“Day two?” You replied with an exasperated smile. “What’s your plan here Bradley?”

“Every day till we get a positive,” he said simply. “If you get pregnant in the next few weeks, we can have a spring baby,” he added.

“Bradley – every day?” You asked, eyes wide.

“I text Hondo, he’s covering for me at lunch next week, Phoenix can take the week after him,” he added.

“Bradley Bradshaw, what did you say to them?” You asked, mildly scandalized.

“Don’t you worry about it, baby,” he grinned, loving the way you rolled your eyes at him.

“Can’t you feed me first?” You asked softly, “the midnight grilled cheese was not enough,” you added. It was also the only time you two had come up for air all night.

“I will,” he assured, pulling the blanket off his body. His erection was pink, the tip wet and veins prominent. “But maybe, just to start the day…” he trailed off as his hand continued to pump up and down his length.

“I am sore,” you countered weakly, eyeing up his anatomy with a wanton gaze.

“I’ll be gentle,” he insisted, “you set the pace,” he added. You nodded, holding open your blanket, and soon, you were sliding down onto him, your body pressed tightly against his from head to toe.

“Oh, Bradley,” you sighed. And though you felt impossibly full, you felt complete. He gently rocked his hips up into you as you curled against his chest. “You’re so good to me,” you whispered, gasping as he hit a tender spot within you.

“You’re the one making my dream come true,” he countered, palming your ass in his hand as he dropped a kiss to the top of your head. “Gonna be the best Mama to our babies,” he encouraged.

You whined gently as he hit your cervix, which you were sure he’d bruised last night, but in the best way possible.

“S’okay,” he murmured, “doing such a good job,” he added, making your skin warm all over. “Doing such a good job.”

For moments, all that could be heard were his steady, even breaths and your soft exhales against his neck.

“Want you to come first,” he said, “I’m right after you – you first, baby.” Bradley did his absolute best to hold back as you gripped at his chest, hugging the underside of his shoulder to you as you fluttered around him. “Good job, good girl,” he looked up at the ceiling, a sweat breaking out across his forehead before he couldn’t hold back any longer. Just the idea that today could be the day they made a baby was enough for him.

“Bradley,” you gasped, his warm cum filling you as his hips jerked up erratically.

“Fuck,” he huffed out in a laugh. “I’m in there, babe,” he panted.

“I can tell,” you blushed, pressing your face into his chest once again. “Can you go make me some breakfast now?” You asked.

“You gotta wait,” he said, planting his feet and pushing his hips up to create a 45-degree angle, raising you up from the bed. “Gotta raise those hips,” he said, matter-of-fact.

“Baby,” you laughed. “Is this real or you just made it up?” You asked, bringing you hands up to brace on either side of his head

“I got a feeling,” he replied. “And it feels nice,” he added, making you blush again. “Next time, you’re gonna be upside down,” he commented.

“Upside down? Bradley, no,” you shook your head with another laugh.

“Baby, I’m gonna fold you every which way till Sunday,” he all but purred. “You’re gonna feel me in here for weeks,” he slapped your bare ass, making you squeal. “Your days as the only person calling me Daddy are over.”

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed Call Him Daddy, you might also like Mighty Fine!

#bradley bradshaw #Bradley rooster bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw smut #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster #rooster x reader #rooster fluff #rooster smut #rooster wants to be a daddy #he's been googling #top gun #top gun maverick #Top Gun fic #top gun fan fic

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queen-of-elves · 1 year ago

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Kinktober 2023: Oneshot

Sanji Vinsmoke x f!reader

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

A/N: bit ooc Sanji? At first I had in mind anime!Sanji but it's a bit of personality hybrid between anime and opla,I tried lol also this is my first smut I actually posted and you can NOT change my mind that Sanji is a service bottom

And yes, I am late as always, had no time to proofread it but I did edit as much as I could

A/N2: the lovely pink MDNI banner is from @cafekitsune and I love their work, definitely check them out and give them some love too

+I have some more Sanji fanfics in WIPs

Words: 2,7K

Warnings: unintentional aphrodisiac use, oral (f! receiving), hair pulling? (Sanji receiving tho), overstimulation, fingering, multiple orgasms,

The Strawhat pirates loved adventures and causing trouble while experiencing them but sometimes their adventures turned into a life or death situation quite easily. It was actually more common than most would think. And that brings us to the situation at hand, all of you running away from what at first seemed like a fun little island which turned out to be home to man eating plants around the size of Thousand Sunny.

In the end, when everyone boarded the ship and you were far away from the cursed island, you all had to agree on one thing, the stop was much needed. The crew had been on the sea for some time now and the supplies you got from the last town were stretching thin, it had little to do with your long journey, the fault lied with your captain and his midnight raids on the kitchen. But thanks to the island you were now happy to be as far from as you could get, all of you had enough to eat for at least a month, well, according to Sanji, who was not only in charge of the kitchen but also of its protection from your gluttony of a captain.

Speaking of Sanji, you always had a thing for the handsome chef, even though you knew of his habit of flirting with every woman he saw. There was just something about him that didn’t let you sleep at night. One of your favorite activities involving the cook was watching him create various wonderful dishes for the whole crew.

And whatever he was cooking now was smelling delicious, the smell filling the corridors leading to the kitchen, Sanji’s kingdom itself. The whole kitchen smelled of herbs you could not recognize, similar to rosemary but not quite, you of course knew no matter with what Sanji works, he always makes the best dish out of it. And there it was, in a tall metal cooking pot was the source of the delicious smell, a rich stew full of potatoes and tasty looking meat. You were sure Sanji wouldn’t mind if you had a spoonful before he was done with dinner.

“You can be the first to taste my new dish if you want.” Oh, speaking of the handsome devil. Turning around you were greeted with quite the sight. The blond cook was casually leaning on the doorframe watching you with a smirk.

“So, I will be the first one to get poisoned from those strange herbs?”

“Oh, you hurt my heart, sweetness. You know I wouldn’t want to poison your or our captain.”

“I don’t think Luffy can get poisoned from anything at this point and anyway, we're talking about your cooking, there is like zero percent chance that it would happen.”

“Well aren’t you sweet. Would you then do me the honor and try my new dish, please sweetheart?” The blond seemed pretty adamant about you trying his dish and since there was no escaping his pleads you decided to grant his wish. After all, you, yourself were already itching to have a taste yourself.

“Of course.” You could clearly tell that Sanji was trying to act nonchalant about the whole thing but was eagerly waiting to see your reaction upon eating the dish.

Holding up a plate so you wouldn’t let even drop escape onto the kitchen counter, you took one of the spoons that sat on it.

“Oh, that’s my-” Sanji didn’t even get to finish before you already put the spoon with the broth in your mouth. “I don’t mind.” Your words seemed to resonate with him and by the look of it had a particular effect considering the bloody nose he was trying to hide. For some reason reactions like this, especially from the pretty cook, seemed to boost your confidence quite a bit. It felt nice to know you had such an effect on him, even though most ladies did too.

A moan ripped out of your throat, the broth was rich, the little bit of meat you were able to fish out onto the small spoon was smooth and just right on the fatty side. He did it once again, created something absolutely sense shattering out of almost nothing. Day and night you were proud of Luffy for getting such a capable cook on his crew just so you could selfishly eat only the best dishes in the world.

There was something different about this whole feeling though, you felt warm but not in the sense you usually did with his food. Sanji was capable of making dishes that would decimate the cold stuck to the crew’s bones after every winter striked island. However the warmth you felt soon turned into a flame in your lower belly.

“Is it good?” The cook was still anticipating any kind of review, a compliment maybe, with a shy smile, he was unsuccessfully trying to hide.

“Yeah-,” you were breathless, struggling to comprehend what was happening but you still moved closer to the young cook, “could I get-?” You motioned to the still bubbling pot, the plate and spoon held up for Sanji to take from you.

“Yeah, of course.” He smoothly took the plate and spoon from your hands and in one swift motion filled the plate for you. “I mean, dinner is soon but-” he held the plate for you to take again “, anything for you, sweetheart.”

His words woke up something in you, the flame turning into a blaze in you. This was starting to be embarrassing the more apparent was your state to him but still you tried to hide it. You knew you couldn’t take the plate from him, your hands were too shaky and sweaty, you were afraid the plate would fall to the ground the moment it left his hand.

Speaking of his hand, had you always been so fascinated with it as much as you were now? You couldn’t help but trace each vein, his strong grip on the white ceramic or the ring he always wore with your eyes. The moment you started shamelessly and openly pant, lapping on the air around you, you knew the illusion of nothing happening was shattered.

“I feel hot.” Your gaze started to fog over, still you could recognize Sanji’s confused expression. For a moment he stared embarrassed at your face before he turned back to the pot muttering something about spices and if it’s still cooking.

“Is it that spicy? Maybe the herbs contain too much capsaicin.” He was huffing under his breath, angry at himself for serving you something that was not completely perfect. He was sure he tasted it before letting it boil a bit, he was waiting for the taste of each ingredient to combine. However, he truly did not anticipate such a change in flavor, especially such a drastic one.

“No.” There was a certain weight on your chest and drops of sweat started to appear on your skin. But then you finally recognized the feeling. “That’s not it.” You couldn’t help but clench your thighs together, the feeling too strong to ignore. It was lust all along.

The atmosphere in the kitchen was thick, you knew Sanji saw right through you the way he stared so shamelessly at your chest before quickly looking up at your face. His embarrassment from his failure to deliver tasty dish soon too turned into something completely different.

“It's your problem too, you caused it!” The heat was spreading now, the tips of your fingers were tingling and your head felt like you were standing in a fog. The feeling was overwhelming you, almost paralyzing your brain. Simple thoughts were starting to be hard to produce.

“So do something about it.” It was also starting to be difficult to speak, to think at all and those words were the only thing you could muster enough power to say. You muttered them under your breath anyway.

“Wha-what?” His eyes, previously and again stuck on your heaving chest, finally met yours, widening at the realization of what you meant.

“Ok-okay.”

You never thought you would get into such a situation, especially with the cook. It was not like you didn’t find him attractive, he was. Blond shiny hair, muscular back and strong hands, there was nothing you wouldn’t like. You liked him too much on some occasions, just like this one.

Your throbbing heat was met with another rough thrust of his tongue interrupting your train of thoughts. You could already feel the bruises forming from the way his hands were gripping your hips, where his long fingers were holding you still. The only clothing still on you was your shirt, pushed over your chest with bra already missing, and pants still holding on to the ankle of your right leg, otherwise you were completely bare for the world to see.

Sanji was all over you, he was everywhere. His hot kisses were still present on your skin even with his mouth already preoccupied with your pussy. Your skin sweaty, beads of it rolling down into the now wet sheets, but there was no thought in your head of the uncomfortable feeling of the bed sheets sticking to your skin.

Your white shirt was pushed up over your breasts, giving Sanji the perfect view he could ever ask for. Seeing your hard nipples and tasting you was heaven on earth for him. Pulling on his hair to the point you were sure you would rip some but you couldn’t stop, he made you feel too good, your next orgasm was quickly approaching. His hands slowly traveled from your bruised hips to now the globes of your ass, gripping between it and halfway on the way to your thighs. He squeezed your skin once again, enjoying the moan it ripped from your throat, he could only smirk.

He could feel your release coming, your walls tightening, pushing his tongue out but he was going to win this battle. Spasm over took your body, squeal leaving your throat. The overstimulation was too much for your body but too little for what was happening to you, you needed more.

”I got you, don’t worry, sweetheart.” His tongue dived deeper than before, continuing his ministration of your insides. His motion slowly released tension from your muscles until the next spasm hit you again.

Panting, the words you had on your tongue slipped away into darkness. There was no thought in your head and if there was, it was all about how the young cook was making you feel good and how needy you were for the next release. You were completely gone, moaning, squirming wreck in painful ecstasy. Sanji made you see stars just with his mouth.

There was an intense stare, unmoving from your face that was full of pleasure, he couldn’t simply look away from you. And then you saw it, his own face wrinkled in pleasure. The only thing the young cook needed for his own lust to explode was your own pleasure and you loved it.

But he was not done with you and so was not your body. The moment you came down from your high the heat was already spreading out again, the never ending cycle continued and you begged for another touch from him.

“More, Sanji-” another moan ripped from your throat when he pushed you thighs over his shoulders, sinking right back into your cunt, devouring you again”- more!” He wanted to bring you close again but his jaw was getting tired. He needed to rethink his approach so he would be able to give you as much pleasure as possible without getting tired too quickly.

“Can I-?” You knew what he meant, you could feel his finger tracing your outer lips, gathering all the slick it could. Your legs pushed even higher, your pants finally slipping from your right foot on to the ground. Slowly pushing one of his fingers in, he moved his mouth to your clit, giving it attention it deserved.

This was the feeling you needed to graduate your state, to get closer to another release faster. The motion of his finger pushing in and out was increasing in its speed before Sanji slowed down again, earning him another tug on his hair and displeasing grunt from your lips. But it all had a reason, Sanji made sure to kiss your clit before slowly pushing another finger into you. Carefully stretching you out with two fingers he moved his attention back to your clit. One kiss turned into small licks before his mouth was attached to it again, vigorously sucking while he started to pump his fingers into you with no mercy. He could feel your velvet walls tightening once more, almost sucking him in before another loud shout escaped your lips and your body started to tremble.

The young man had to stop for a moment, the white ring that formed around his fingers that were plunging into your cunt completely hypnotized him. Not wholly aware he curled his fingers inside making you squeeze him even harder, another orgasm approaching fast. If heaven exists, Sanji was sure this was his, this was his holy paradise and if it weren’t for the tears, which he was sure was not entirely from how good he made you feel, he would wish for this to never end. But you were in pain and there was no place in Sanji’s world where he would overlook it for his own pleasure.

He already drew two orgasms from you but the ache in your lower belly was not ending. At this point you were sure you were going to die. You were going to die like this writhing sweaty and moaning mess this gorgeous man made you. It’s like he was made to give you pleasure, to make you feel good. Sanji knew exactly where to touch you to weaken the pain in your core.

With each orgasm given to you, you would think the ache would be substituted only with pleasure. However, there was no exchange, your body still whined for touch, his touch. You couldn’t move, all your energy was drained in the process of your satisfaction. And even though your limbs turned into jelly at least your thoughts started to finally clear with the last silent scream he could push from you. You had enough energy only for the silent scream, the air already left your lungs, leaving you panting once again. However, there is something delicious building up in your belly, toe curling and brain scraping feeling and if your mind could still function you would know this was the big climax and the end to your suffering and pleasure.

One last push just mere seconds later from the end of your last high resulted into another one. This time you were completely spent, exhaustion slowly overtaking you, still you couldn’t help but smile at Sanji who was giving you adoring looks from between his now messy stuck in eyes hair. If it was not the feeling you experienced this evening that you would remember forever, it would definitely be the sight of Sanji on his knees between your legs.

Soon it was too hard to stay awake, even though you wanted to. You wanted to stare at Sanji while he slowly got up and went for something to clean you up with, you wanted to stare at his blush painted cheeks and sweat stained hair now sticking to his forehead or the way his dress shirt cling to his sweaty chest but your eyes soon shut completely, just like you shut down the world around you and welcomed the needed sleep.

But if you did stay awake you would know how he slowly cleaned you up before pulling the covers over your exhausted self and if you stayed awake even longer it wouldn’t be only your subconscious deciding to catch his hand before he left, tugging at him as if you wanted him to hold you in your sleep. And for one moment Sanji was selfish and did so, he crawled under the covers next to you, wrapping his arms around you and holding you like the most precious treasure. He knew, in the morning he would confess his undying love to you anyway.

Thank you for reading. :)

Bonus??: Sanji didn’t mind he was still painfully hard, from all he had witnessed and done, all it mattered to his stupid mind was that your lust was extinguished for the moment and nothing could change his mind.

Well, maybe except for your slick stained panties laying on the floor right in his line of sight while he was blessed with holding you in his arms.

#sanji x reader #one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #sanji vinsmoke #sanji x you #sanji x y/n #isa writes #sanji x reader smut #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #smut

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vermont-writes-fanfic · 1 year ago

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How they make Breakfast

In response to @gothicchippy , how the people of the Hellsing Organisation and Father Anderson make breakfast! Let me know if there should be a part two!

Requested: I am going to tsay that's a yes

Warnings: Mentions of blood, blood drinking, killing people, and the mention of scars

Characters: Father Anderson, Alucard, Sir integra, Seras, Walter, Pip Bernadotte

Father Anderson:

Seeing as he seems to take care of the children back at the orpahange in Italy, it seems like he would be well versed in some good breakfast making. He would let you help make breakfast and his specialt is an italian breakfast which is simple and consists of yogurt which he would take teh time to make himself, jam and bread and fluffy fresh baked criossants. He lets you help out and will try a breakfast that you might have in mind. He keeps it light and healthy for the kids making sure they are taken care of and raised healthy. He has quite the skill in the kitchen and often times he lets you relax with him ot trace the scrs on his hands as he waits for somthing to cook or bake.

Alucard:

A morning with him isn’t rare though don’t expect it to be bathed in sunlight and giggles. The last time Alucard had human food was…a long time to best put it. He never had to cook anything because his food of choice is blood and Walter took care of all the cooking for the Hellsings. Instead you take it upon yourself to cook instead, though he is never far from you offering to help we’re he can. He’ll crack eggs or toast bread, but after the first few times of trying this little endeavor you learned not to let him man the spices.

Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing

She spends her days holed up in her office most time taking care of her work and looking at the papers she is being sent. Reports from all over the UK of many new young kings appear and in quick succession. Typically she could manage at least toast and Walter always made her tea, but lately even that is left wasted at the table as she works into the late hours. Without much luck and knowing you’re u favorable of her less than healthy eating habits, Walter asks you to coax her into eating breakfast. And you happily oblige, opting for a less American options, you took to fried mushroom, bacon, sausage, and nook and cranny. It was funny, she had no idea how to cook but the moment she was convinced to have breakfast with you and you asked her to cook she smiled and confident as ever she said,

“If I can’t learn how to cook for you, then I can’t call myself your lover now can I?”

With the assistance of Walter you end up at the desired breakfast and enjoy it on the terrace.

Seras

As part of trying to keep her humanity, Seras makes it a point to cook you breakfast almost every morning. Oftentimes you wake up to a bit of juice with some eggs and bacon or the very common beans and toast. When Seras isn’t out working and manages to stay up enough for you two to make breakfast. With a bit of convincing and a promise to clean anything used, she was able to get the kitchen every once in a while, with this she takes you into the kitchen and of course, you help prepare. Washing your hands consists of soap ending up in someone's hair or on their clothes and plenty of goofing around, after, she’ll bring out the sausage, eggs, potatoes, and cabbage and let you take care of the cooking while she peels the potatoes and dices them up. When everything is complete the two of you will sit down in her room and eat chatting about what you had ready for the day while she whines about Alucard or talks about the mission from the previous night. It’s pleasant and pretty sweet as she compliments you on how you can cook. As you eat, she sometimes wishes that she could to, that it didn’t have to be blood.

Walter

Being the top butler in the Hellsing manor, Walter has no trouble making a wonderful breakfast and is capable of making food from around the world. His memory may be a little behind him but he is still capable of making breakfast. He prefers to make the breakfast himself and will often serve you whatever he had made for Sir Integra that morning but if you request something different he is more than happy to oblige. He makes you bubble and squeak most mornings because it is simple enough to make and retains heat more so even if you wake up late it’s warm enough for you to enjoy it. On the chances where Sir Integra is out for the morning or someone else, Alucard, has taken care of serving her breakfast, he will take the time to teach you how to make a light pastry for breakfast.

Pip isn’t one for extravagant meals or something expensive, he’s still a mercenary. However, he does have a taste for the more expensive tasting things so in true french fashion he opts for a light pastry instead. If he is strapped for time then a bit of baguette and some fruit jelly works just fine for the both of you. Other times, if you and him are feeling especially patient you manage to properly make a pastry , while waiting, Pip will pull you into a dance leading you around the kitchen or tell you jokes or stories from his time some years ago overseas. It always comes out a little under or over done, not that the two of you mind.

@gothicchippy

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blasphemous-lies-and-deceit · 24 days ago

Note

absurd terms of endearment

"Delivery time!" Gerry called out as he barged into the Archives. To his delight, he seemed to have caught Michael unawares, his head jerking up from his papers to look at him with wide shocked eyes. His surprise turned into happiness as a smile spread across his face, the exact expression that had made Gerry fall in love with him the first time he'd seen it lighting up the gloom of the Archives.

"Oh," he squeaked in delight. "I don't remember ordering out."

"That's because this is a surprise, you silly sausage," Gerry teased, setting the container of homemade soup on his desk and rounding it to give his boyfriend a hug. Michael spluttered a laugh, his cheeks turning adorably pink.

"Silly sausage," he snorted. "Like you're one to talk, sugarplum."

"Oh, that's how it is?" Gerry sat on the corner of Michael's desk, a fluttery happiness in his chest at the lovely back and forth. "Careful, my warm cinnamon churro, you might be starting something you can't finish."

"And what might that be, my sweet boba tea?" Michael asked, fluttering his eyelashes as he leant back in his seat. "What am I starting?" As if he didn't know already, as if he didn't have a glint of mischief in his eyes that Gerry loved so much.

"It seems like you're trying to out-nickname me, mister fairy floss." Gerry's words drew a snort out of Michael, covering his mouth with his hand to hold back his giggles. "But if you can't handle a few sweet epitaphs, I don't think you can keep up with me."

"Now listen here, you vanilla macaron-" Michael started, but stopped when Gerry burst out laughing. "See, you can't handle it either!"

"Fuck," Gerry gasped, trying to pull himself back together. It was too fun to stop. "You're pushing it, cream puff," he warned, sending Michael into another round of giggles. "Don't make me switch to another food group, you deep-fried mozzarella stick."

"Oh no you don't, you Sunday roast," Michael shot right back with a grin. "I'm sweet, you're savory."

"Yeah, you'd know that, wouldn't you, my iced lemon cake." Gerry added a lewd wink to his words, and Michael shot forward in his seat, a determined glint in his eye.

"You greasy morning fry-up, you don’t know what you've gotten into," he said, words loaded with warmth. "My succulent steak with potatoes, I could eat you for breakfast."

"Wish you would, my chocolate truffle," Gerry chuckled, leaning in as well until they were nearly within kissing distance. "All these foody endearments are making me hungry."

"Don't you worry about that, my tender soup dumpling, I'll make sure you're very well fed," Michael purred heavily, his lustful eyes heavy as they trailed over Gerry, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "Just you wait til I get you home. I'll load you right up with my sweet cre-"

"Enough!" A sharp yell cut them off, followed quickly by Gertrude appearing in the doorway of her office, looking incredibly cross. "Enough," she said again as Gerry toppled off the desk, laughing so hard his sides hurt, as Michael crumpled in his seat giggling just as hard. "No more. Pet names and euphemisms are no longer allowed in the Archives!"

"Oh, come on, Gee Gee-" Gerry started, only to be stopped by her accusing finger.

"Gerard Keay, I will banish you from these Archives, do not test me," she snapped, even as he continued to laugh. "And Michael, you can not eat that in here, no food is allowed near the documents."

"Oh, do we care about that now, gumdrop?" Michael shot back brightly, getting to his feet to help Gerry up from the floor. "Fine, I'll taking my break now. Since we're so hungry." He pulled Gerry close and pressed an obnoxious kiss to his cheek, earning another disgusted noise from Gertrude. Gerry grinned wickedly and wrapped his arms around Michael's middle, tugging him in tight.

"Careful, love, we don't want to offend Gertrude's delicate sensibilities," Gerry teased, earning an eyeroll and scoff from both Assistant and Archivist. It was over the top, but it was fun, and Gerry loved being able to joke around like that. Even if their lives were dark and horrible, at least he had some brightness to keep them going.

#the magnus archives #gerrymichael #tma fanfic #gerry keay #michael shelley #doorkeay #yes im posting this today and not Friday because everything is shit but there's still love and cheer #i love you all i hope this helps #rebelwriting

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satoriberry · 8 months ago

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silly man higuruma :3 [headcanons!!]

-> because hot serious men deserve to be bbgirl,,,they deserve to be silly and have some lighthearted silly moments,,,,

⇝ he has a very cute sneeze. doesn't like it. holds in his sneezes because of that :(

⇝ when he's not losing sleep over a criminal case, he enjoys going to places you wouldn't imagine a mildly grumpy lawyer to be in. like, oddly sitting in the corner of a mascot café, or, exiting the movies with a barbie-themed movie goblet in hand and 3D glasses perched on his nose. he said it himself: he went off the trails after reaching his mid-30s :3

⇝ he has an affinity for ceramic animal decorations: a cute slug on his desk, a crab on his kitchen counter, a duck on the shelf next to his apartment door. they're scattered everywhere, and he likes watching people try to find each and every one on the rare occasion that he has guests.

⇝ he blushes easily and he doesn't like that either :( whenever he's embarrassed for example, he'll try to maintain his cool man façade but his face is very much to turning red so he's not very slick with it HA!

⇝ not pudgy but some parts of him are satisfyingly grabbable, especially his tummy and his upper torso!!

⇝ chips connoisseur. EXCLUSIVELY fucks with good quality chips. you'll never catch him munching on something as low-class as DORITOS or CHEETOS 🤮🤮🤢

⇝ he likes sweet people. sweet people as in individuals who find it in them to be altruistic and tolerate anyone and everyone with no discrimination; people who rarely hold grudges and who don't let the sucky parts of life get to them. he likes them because he wishes he was like that too (i said silly headcanons but this isn't very posiitve now is it uhhhh)

⇝ he eats biscoff spread from the jar. straight up CRACK for him. always regrets it right afterwards because tummy ache :3

⇝ he think sugargliders are fucking adorable and would love to own one if that was feasible (which i think it is in certain places??)

⇝ he's handsome now in his 30s but he was actually on the cuter side in university because homebody had BRACES. he looked like a stereotypical dork but it was extremely endearing and people thought he looked adorable (yes even at age 23)

⇝ thick luscious short hair. he doesn't fear baldness. baldness fears him.

⇝ however he started developping gray hairs before he had even hit 30 oopsie doopsie

⇝ bigggg fan of detective conan, loves the show and rewatches old episodes for nostalgia's sake

⇝ loves arguing with americans on the internet.

⇝ favourite food out of convenience is rice with seaweed OR!! a jacket potato because he gets to release some anger while stabbing the fuck of the potato before throwing it in the oven

⇝ wants a blond cat. apartment doesn't allow pets. would either name the cat cheddar cheese or keke (short for keylime pie)

⇝ he has big fat wet eyes that stare at your soul so you'll either fall for his bizarre charm or believe he plans on killing you from how hard he's looking.

⇝ loves those little applesauce pouches :3

⇝ ok that's it goodbye :D

#berry.writes <3 #higuruma hiromi #hiromi higuruma #higuruma #higuruma jjk #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk headcanons #ngl kitten daddy is not feeling good but at least he wrote some silly headcanons about our favourite defense attory!!

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itsnathateasy · 3 months ago

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"you’re a terrible driver" (connie x reader)

word count: 1,1k

warnings: you can't drive but connie kind of makes you

author’s note: brackets are for text messages!

(i should mention idk how to drive, sorry if the details are off!)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

the day of your driver's license exam was steadily approaching and you couldn’t help but feel the anxiety build up. no matter what you did to keep yourself occupied, your thoughts kept moving back to the upcoming exam. you needed more practice, that was certain. most of your classes were a disaster and your anxiety barely allowed you to stay focused on the steering wheel. as these thoughts kept circling in your mind, you felt your phone vibrate. it's a message from the groupchat with sasha, connie and jean.

[connie] "hey guys wanna hang out later?"

you desperately wanted to get out of the house and the stressful thoughts that were suffocating you. wasting no time, you responded with a quick "omw to our spot" and headed to your room to get dressed. you reached the gang's usual meeting spot, only to see that nobody else made it there yet. to be honest, you were so into your head that paid no attention to the continuous buzzing of your phone. as you waited for the guys to arrive, you went through the messages that you hadn't read earlier.

[sasha] "sorry guys, can't make it"

[jean] "already out w mikasa, wish me luck!"

you started to panic. did this mean you'd be hanging out with connie alone? not that you minded, on the contrary! you've had a crush on him for the longest time, but his and the gang's adventurous and fun vibe never allowed you to make a move. you almost felt as if you'd ruin your friend group by initiating anything. although both sasha and jean kept hinting stuff at the both of you, you pretended to pay zero attention. for that reason, you were careful to keep your contact with connie to a minimum outside of the group.

connie viewed the messages but didn't respond, nor did he text or call you privately. you'd made up your mind to wait for a bit before leaving, assuming he wouldn't be coming at all. a few minutes passed before you felt a slight tap on your shoulder and turned around only to be greeted by the most heartwarming smile you'd ever laid eyes upon.

"my mum made this weird sweet potato, peanut butter brownie thing, so i brought you a slice to snack on" he said while munching on a piece of the brownie himself and simultaneously extending his left arm to hand you the slice.

"you sure eat a lot for a guy as lean as you"

"when you have a mum who cooks as good as mine, you ought to have these kind of problems sorted" he added with a smile and you couldn't help but smile back.

"so, what are you in the mood for? i was thinking of burgers and milkshakes, sound good? my car's just around the corner"

"oh man, you just had to mention your car, didn't you". a startled look appeared on his face.

"something wrong?" he questioned. you briefly explained what was troubling you and he gave you a sympathetic look.

"well, there's only one way that i can help. follow me!" you obeyed, thinking that the promise of junk food would ease your mind a bit. his car really wasn't that far and you reached it in no time. he hit the "unlock" button and opened the driver's door while you made your way to the passenger's but were immediately halted.

"where do you think you're going dude?" his expression seemed purely puzzled.

"uhm the passenger seat? i dont have my license yet"

"psst no biggie. i was opening the door for you. hop into the driver's seat"

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"connie this was a terrible idea" your voice was trembling, barely reaching your ears. the amount of stress you were going through was indescribable. "nah youre doing fine babe". your hands fixed on the steering wheel, eyes focused on the road, cautious not make any wrong moves. "hey hey, don't panic, you're honestly doing fine." connie was the best at reassuring you, but your heart kept racing and racing. on top of it all, you had to deal with connie being as cute and helpful as now. and with the fact that he kept calling you "babe". and rested his hand on your thigh.

"now just make a left here and we're almost at the burger place"

"connie seriously, i can't turn here. there are like four lanes. let's just stop somewhere and you take the wheel"

"nah you can do it" connie said and placed his hand on top of yours on the steering wheel, guiding you through it all. "just move over to this lane aaaand there you go! now won't you look at you all driving and shit!" his face was all lit up, a bright smile printed on his face.

"connie, we literally almost died like at least twice. i'm never driving with you ever again"

connie instructed you on how to park near the entrance of the burger house, a procedure that lasted twenty torturous minutes, but after you made it, you took a deep breath and felt a little better.

connie looked so proud of you. "you're really going to do great on your exam, you've nothing to worry about! this was a tough route you know"

"you've been so patient with me connie. honestly, i wouldn't stand me. thank you!" you said and reached out your hands to give him a hug, which he thankfully returned. "anytime love". you thought he was going to pull away but he gently kissed your neck instead.

you pulled back at once, surprised with what he just did. you could feel yourself staring at him, and not in a good way, but you were left speechless. for a few seconds. or was it minutes? "man i read it all wrong, didn't i?" the boy sighed and rubbed his hand on the nape of his neck. you were trying so hard to say something, anything, but after all the anxiety-inducing driving and now this, connie actually giving you the attention you'd been craving for who knows how long, there no words left.

"hey dude listen, i'm really sorry, i never meant to-"

he couldn't say anything else because you just closed the distance between you two kissing him on the lips and moving your hands to cup his face. while also, accidentaly, hitting the accelarator.

there was a bang and your heart almost stopped for good. luckily, it was just the industrial bin outside of the burger house.

you and connie both stared at each other for a minute, then at the bin. then you bursted out with laughter.

"honestly babe, you're a terrible driver!" connie said inbetween laughs. "how can you leave the keys in the ignition? was it my incredible driving lesson or my flirting skills?"

"should've booked you for my driving lessons i guess"

#connie #connie springer #aot #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #connie x reader #connie springer au #jean kirstein #sasha braus #attack on titan au #driving #itsnathateasy wrote this!

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thatbanditqueen · 1 year ago

Text

Basic Training Chapter 7

Mad love to my alpha @whositmcwhatsit seriously your editing and feedback make this so much better. Also love and special thanks to my lovely elvis coven, @vintageshanny @ellie-24 @be-my-ally @peskybedtime @from-memphis-with-love @missmaywemeetagain @powerofelvis @be-my-ally @shakerattlescroll @lookingforrainbows and to @ab4eva for her sweetness, you were the only person to ask me about Bess on tumblr between now and the last chapter and I was like oh, I guess someone is still reading this. Which is good. Because I am still writing it. ;)

Thanks to everyone who reads this, shares, reblogs, leaves a comment or whatever. I write for myself, but I publish for community, and I don't think I could write with out your support and friendship.

Summary: Bess resigns to get over Elvis and move on, but he has other plans.

Warnings: Not much, depictions of mental illness/delusion.

WC: 6.5 K

If you need to catch up Chapter Six: Guided Missiles or the masterlist here Basic Training

Click here if you prefer to read on A03

Chapter 7: The Minefield

12:15 p.m., Friday, April 24th, 1958

Commissioned Officer’s Mess

Army Intelligence Training Unit, Fort Hood, TX

“I thought you were applying to law school?”

Bess let her straw drop out of her mouth to meet James’ concerned stare across the mahogany table.

“Um, I changed my mind.” Her eyes dropped back to her chocolate egg cream and she paused for a moment. The sound of glasses clinking and hushed conversations reverberated through the Army Intelligence officer’s club. “I kinda dropped the ball on writing my sample essay. And,ugh, I haven't been able to focus at all on studying for the entrance exam.” Bess trailed her shoe anxiously across the burgundy carpet, she hated admitting that she had given up on lawyer school. “It’s just temporary, a temporary pause. No, for now, I think a year or two working for the state department is the best next step. I’ve always wanted to spend time in Europe..”

“But Helsinki, Bess?” James reached over to comfort her with a hand squeeze, but she pulled loose and went back to eating her pot roast lunch.

“Finland is a stepping stone.I could be working in Berlin next summer. And Helsinki has a lot of international action. It’s right next to St. Petersburg.”

“This sudden need to go to the coldest burg in Europe wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain tall, dark soldier who’s been doing extra laps around the barracks every day, would it?”

Bess lifted her thick, white cotton napkin to obscure the blush spreading up her cheeks. “I saw that he’s had extra PT, I’ve been wondering what happened.”

“Oh? I thought for sure that was all you and your front office connections, getting back at Presley — “

“Jameson, I would never abuse my position in the Front Office for revenge. You know how basic training is. Drill sergeants use any excuse to tear you apart just so they can build you back up again. He probably was late to inspection, or maybe he tried to protest extra push ups, and now it’s marathon time everyday til he’s learned his lesson.”

“Hmmm, must be. Though I don’t feel even the teensiest twinge of sympathy for him after that stunt he pulled on you? Think it would look suspicious if he got run over by a jeep? In his barracks?” James winked at Bess/

“Ha, just say you made a wrong turn.” Bess chuckled, but her smile quickly faded into a sigh.

She speared a potato with her fork, looking at it as if it had the answer to life’s secrets like a magic eight ball. Maybe all she needed to do was turn potato over and around until it revealed her fate. Sadly, no messages turned up, and she laid it back on her plate.

“Thing is, I knew he had other girlfriends. I just wished he’d called and canceled our plans instead of leaving me hanging to find out another way. The most humiliating way.”

“Maybe he couldn’t get away to call? Or forgot your number? Have you seen him at all?”

Bess shook her head, sipping her drink again. “Uh uh. But I’ve been avoiding him. What am I supposed to say? It hurt my feelings that you put the kibosh on our night together for a pajama party with one of your steady girlfriends?“ Her eyes met James. “But, uh, he knows my number, though. He called that Monday, after she left town. And several other times.”

“What did he say?”

“I don’t know, I have Kay on switchboard duty. She has strict instructions to inform male callers that I’m not home.”

“You oughta talk to him, honey, let him have it.”

“I’d rather not, I - I, it was, uh. The whole thing felt so icky, I never want to feel that way again. It took me back to last summer and Be. Except, this time, I’m the other woman and I know all about his girlfriend back in Memphis.” Bess put down her fork, unable to eat anymore. “I think my picker is broken, James. I’m destined to be alone.”

“But are you supposed to be alone in Helsinki?”

“I’m actually excited to be single in Helsinki.” James raised his eyebrows. “What? The city is is pretty hip!They just hosted the Olympics. Lots of people live there from all over the world. After Berlin, it is one of the top hubs for working with the Ruskies.”

“Ok, ok, I get it, you hussy, you’ll probably be able to play patty cake with an assortment of good looking European men. I just can’t believe you are abandoning me, it’s so selfish. I’m almost ready to swear I’ll never buy another Presley record.”

“I’m not leaving because of him!” Bess huffed at the way James arched his eyebrow higher and straightened her napkin over her skirt. Aggressively. “I swear, how many times do I have to tell you, he’s just helped me get the perspective I needed. The straw that broke the camel’s back. I gotta get out of this place before I wind up like Mabel.”

James sniffed as he motioned to the waiter. “Mabel seems happy, could be worse.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not. But you might be out of here before me. I only just sent in my application materials, you know how these civilian posts can be. If I make the first cut, I still have to do a round of phone interviews,an in-person one, a thorough background check. Why, I probably won’t head out until the summer. If I get it.”

James quirked his mouth and whistled when they stood to leave and shook his head.

“Seems like such a waste to store all your resources behind a desk. Should be out, serving our country at USO shows.”

Bess slapped James shoulder, then straightened his jacket, smoothing her hand over his medals.

“Jameson, stop. Do you talk to the debutantes back in Rhode Island like this? You know, half the officers in here are probably my father’s spies. Keep whistling at me like that, they’ll convince him we’re an item.” She grabbed her purse and put her gloves back on. “Besides, I am not exactly the type who likes performing or attention.:

He looked her over once again, making an exaggerated show of appreciation for the way that Bess’ smart tweed pencil skirt hugged her hips.

“Oh, but that’s what makes you such a knockout, Bessie Girl. Why don’t we get married, huh? We could travel the world together, life would never be boring. We’d have great looking, smart kids.”

Bess put her finger to James’ lips, looking into the hazel eyes that glimmered below his perfectly coiffed honey blonde hair.

“I wish I could. I can’t marry someone I don’t love, not in the way I love you anyway.It’s no good, we’d end up ruining our friendship.”

James slid his arm through Bess’ as he led them out of the officer’s club. “I suppose you’re right, Schwartz, but if you ever get desperate and want to be married to a dashing officer who’d never leave you for another woman, the offer stands.”

“This is no time to be getting married, Jameson. I’m sure you’ll want to enjoy the local flavor in Heidelberg.”

“Hmm, yeah, no matter the gene pool, it’s gotta be better than this dump.”

Bess smoothed her hair once they were outside and turned to James. He looked so handsome in his dashing officer’s uniform, cap under his arm. He was probably the best looking, wealthiest man to ever propose to her, even in jest. She really would miss him once they left Fort Hood. Bess gripped James arm tighter before they parted, and smiled.

“No kidding, I can’t wait to put Fort Hood and Elvis and everything in my rear view mirror. Get a fresh start in gorgeous, romantic Helsinki-town, city of dreams.”

“I thought that was Paris?”

“Nope, pretty sure it’s Helsinki. Though I understand why you’re confused, Helsinki is the Paris of the Baltic Sea.”

“No one calls it that.”

“Sure they do, I’m starting it now.”

James smiled, fixing his uniform cap back on his head. “Ha, ok. Well, as they say in Helsinki, au revoir.”

*********************************************

Bess’ fresh start suddenly seemed a million miles away when she glimpsed Elvis Presley running round the base. It had only taken a few minutes after she got into her father’s Oldsmobile before she recognized Elvis’ tall, perspiring figure jogging around the circular track behind the PX. There he was, in his sweat-soaked tee-shirt, dog tags jingling over his chest, running towards them in the dusk of sunset.

It struck her for a moment how odd it was for the drill sergeants to have him do laps out here on the road near the gate instead of closer to the 37th tank division. They must be making a public example of him, she thought, having him do laps out here as people drive past on a main road out of the base.

It was working, he looked absolutely miserable and exhausted. The cold grimace he had fixed on his face pulled on Bess’ heartstrings, and she felt a compulsory urge to go comfort him. But then she remembered why she’d cut him loose, and nodded to herself, reaffirming how wise she was protecting herself from further heartache. It wasn’t easy.

She got so captivated watching him take off his cap and wipe his forehead as they got closer, that she suddenly realized he was about to run by her car and had to quickly duck down flat against the bench seat to avoid being seen.

“Ilsa, whatever are you doing?”

Bess popped up with a squeak, looking over her shoulder at Elvis’ figure running away behind them, then stuttered to her father. “I, um, I dropped my lipstick on the floor is all, Papa.”

Dinner was pleasant enough. Mama served tuna noodle casserole and followed it with a cherry cream cheese jello mold. It was comforting to Bess to think these were recipes any other family on the block might be eating tonight. Though she doubted whether the other mothers were wearing a matching red dress and explaining the deep meaning behind the color red, and how powerful color it is, one that can provide all the strength and nourishment they needed. Bess did concede that cherry Jell-O tasted like what she thought the color red might taste like.

And if a lecture on the spiritual nature of red Jell-o was the most occult Mama got tonight, then tonight was a good night.

After eating, Bess changed into a more comfortable, simple light blue house dress, and was trying to calculate how long it had been since Mama had one of her episodes as she walked downstairs, when she heard Kay on the phone.

“Well, no Rex, I guess I’m not doing anything. Well, sure, gee whiz, yeah, I know a few friends who’d flip their lids at the chance. You bet, meet you there at 8!”

Bess turned the corner at the bottom of the landing, and gripped the polished circular handrail as Kay spun around with a wide, beaming grin. Her sister halted suddenly and tripped forward with a gasp when she caught Bess’s stare.

“Was that Elvis’ bunk mate, Rex?”

Kay gulped. “Mhmmm, I did like you told me, and said you - you weren’t home.”

Bess crossed her arms. “So what, now you’re going out with them?”

“Well, I - he - I heard Elvis tell him to invite me and any other friends to meet them at the movie theatre on post. It’s, it’s, not a date, it’s a group-like thing.”

Bess took a deep sigh. Miles Davis wafted out from behind the closed door of their father’s office at the back of the house, and she could hear her mother doing the dishes. Bess had come down to help clean up, and had planned to spend her Friday evening at home. She thought she might read or watch TV, play a game of gin rummy with Mama. Anything to take her mind off of Elvis. And now here her sister was, running out to go meet him!

“I cannot believe he invited you out.”

“And why is that? You’re not the only charming, good looking girl around here, Bess.”

“That’s not what I was saying, Kay. What kind of guy invites out the sister of a girl - a girl - a girl he’d been riding around with? You aren’t seriously thinking of going? What about Dickie?”

“It’s not like that. Cuz, - it’s - it’s not a date. Why, they’re getting a gang together. Rex said I should bring some other girls. I’m about to call Carol and Tracy. If you think I’m gonna deprive them of the chance to meet Elvis Presley, you got another thing coming. Why, you always keep him all to yourself.” Kay huffed, and put her hands on her hips. “It’s not a date. You could come if you wanted, you know.”

Bess squeezed her hands into tight fists, squelching her sudden intense desire to slap her sister.

“You know exactly why I won’t be doing that, I told you how things went with him and you are smart enough to know he is probably doing this to upset me. And you’re helping him! My own sister. Kay Brutus Schwartz.”

Kay’s face fell, and she met Bess in the middle of the hallway. “It’s not like that at all. Please don’t be mad, Bess, but me and my friends, we have all his albums. You can’t hold it against me for wanting to go. It’s not like I asked, he - ”

Bess brushed Kay’s hand from her shoulder and stomped off in a huff, her anger powered her through an incredibly fast cleaning session in the kitchen.

Mama dried the last plate Bess handed her, then put her arms around Bess at the sink. “See, Bessie baby, all that red Jell-o gave you the energy and focus you needed. I’ll get you some red silk underwear for your new job, I saw some in the Montgomery Ward catalog. Or were they red flannel long johns? Well, you’ll need both in Helsinki.”

*********************************************

Bess had frowned as Kay traipsed out the door to meet her friends when Carol pulled up in her mother’s yellow DeSoto. At first she took her book upstairs and sat at the window, watching for Kay’s return around 10 p.m.

By 10:30, she had moved to the porch, where she sat up on the bench hugging her knees and trying to read while she waited to catch her sister and pump her for information outside where their parents wouldn’t hear them.

Yawning, she was just straightening the bows on her white house slippers when she turned to see a car pulling up in front of the house. But this was not Carol’s mother’s yellow DeSoto. It was a white Cadillac. And she made the mistake of looking up long enough to note the row of guys in the back seat and make eye contact with Elvis as he parked.

Fuck, Bess muttered to herself staring back into her book, unable to focus her eyes on any of the words. In her periphery, she watched Elvis jump out and race around the front of his car, loosely putting his arm around a giddy, smiling Kay as he walked her up the path to the front porch.

Bess took a deep breath, accepting that there was nothing she could do, that she was stuck out here with her hair in a messy bun wearing a house dress and slippers. So, she braced herself and stood to confront the most famous man in the world.

The cool night air was no comfort to the heated temper rising in her chest as Elvis walked up the stairs in front of her, his fingers now spread over Kay’s shoulder. His eyes narrowed, and a smirk played over his face.

“Hellooooo there Bess, ain’t you sweet, coming out here to greet me.”

“Hmmmm.” Bess nodded, curtly, exhaling at Kay’s sheepish grin.

“Well, I enjoyed our date tonight, Kitty Kat, didju?” He gave Kay’s shoulder a rub and Kay laughed nervously at his nickname, glancing back at Bess as she untangled herself from Elvis’ grip.

“Oh, well, it was a gas to meet you and the whole gang,” Kay made a show of waving at the car, “Tell Rex thanks for the Coke and candy.”

Elvis ran his hand through his hair.“Uh, well, I wudda bought you all the Cokes you wanted, I just -”

Bess interrupted him. “Let me guess, you forgot your wallet?”

“Yeah, guess that’s happened before.” Elvis chuckled.

“Ahem, Kitty Kat is it?” Bess raised her eyes at her sister. “Probably time you were in bed, little girl. I have a few words I need to have with your date, here.”

Kay coughed and avoided Bess’ intense look of death as she thanked Elvis for a fun night. He grabbed her hand, making eye contact with Bess over Kay’s shoulder and he hugged her sister and gave her a soft peck on the cheek. Kay hung in his embrace for several beats, then scuttled away to leave Elvis with Bess’s cool stare

“You have some nerve.”

Elvis took a step toward her, “Aw, Bess, now see, when you act like this it makes me think you still like me.”

“Is that ri-ight?” Her voice wavered as he took a step toward her with his shoulders back, head forward, rubbing the back of his neck. She stumbled back a few steps, distracted by the way his eyes pierced her from under his eyebrows.

“See, you actin’ like ya jealous, honey. But you ain’t playin’ fair.“

“Really. I don’t play fair?”

“Uh uh.” Now he was hovering over her, backing her into the front of the house, his lower lip hanging open as he leaned over her. “You play hot one day, then cool the next. Won’t take my calls, but now ya jealous. Playin’ games s’what it is, and I can’t stand chicks who play games.”

“Ha!” Bess had meant her declaration to be a lot more forceful than how it came out as a muffled breath into the dark, red fisherman’s sweater Elvis was wearing. Of course! Of course his sweater was red. It sucked all Bess’ strength right out of her. And her resolve. She tried for dear life to hang on to the painful embarrassment that had punched her in the gut when she met Anita.

“You’re - you’re - you had - you’re the one who -”

Elvis’ hand was at her waist, and his thumb pressed over her belly button.

“Sshhh. I know, I missed our date.”

Bess mumbled toward her shoes. “Well, I wouldn’t call a party in a cheap motel room a date by any me-“

Elvis’ pursed his lips in a grin as he brought his other hand to Bess’ cheek, his eyes gleaming as she shivered in him. He tilted her chin to meet his eyes. Bess tried to shake him off, but couldn’t, she was spellbound by the pair of dark blue eyes above her.

She reminded herself that there was an audience of grown men watching them from his back seat. Then she thought she saw the curtain at the front window ripple and realized Kay was probably leaning against the wall inside, spying on them. She thought about how Elvis had invited her sister out, at the very least to get her attention, or at worst, to make her jealous. She thought about how she had sworn to her best friend hours ago that she never wanted to see Elvis Presley again. She tried to grasp at all these things and more as Elvis stepped closer to her, and shifted his arm over her against the wall. But suddenly thinking was very difficult. Elvis’ thumb circled the button at the waist of her cotton house dress.

“OK, ok,well, when you say it like that, sounds awful. Definitely weren’t no date. Still, Kitty Kat told me how upset you’ve been. And I know I shudda called you.” Elvis took a deep breath, and coughed. “ And, well, that gal came down and surprised the hell outta me, is what happened. I didn’t invite her, now that’s the god’s honest truth. But, well, put me in an awful bind and I couldn’t get away to call you. Wudda much rather spent the weekend with you, Moo Moo.”

His breath was warm on her neck, and the way he murmured her nickname was like a sultry saxophone solo. Bess closed her eyes as it rolled over her body, giving her goosebumps. His whisper was full of vulnerable need and Bess couldn’t believe that she actually felt bad for him, as if she were to blame for everything.

“I - I - I’m sorry.”

“Nah, honey, I reckon, if I’m honest with ma self, you have every right to be sore at me. But you havta give a man the chance to defend hisself. Tell me now, don’t a man deserve a chance to splain?”

There was his thumb, gliding over the front of her stomach, rubbing back and forth.

“Really, I wasn’t trying to play games.”

“I know, Moo Moo. I know’d you weren’t really like that, else I wouldn’t be here.” He leaned in, pressing his open lips to the corner of her jaw, soft and delicate as he continued his whispers. “Though I don’t know if I could stay away even if you were the devil, baby. Ain’t been able to stop thinking about you.” His mouth was warm on her neck. “You, and only you.”

His touch sent a wave of feverish heat through her body, and Bess didn’t care if he was lying, all she knew was that she would willingly go back to his motel room with him right now in her flimsy white house slippers and all. However, before she could make that suggestion, she heard the front door open and she jumped up instantly, pushing Elvis away at the sight of her father’s silhouette in the dim porch light.

“Elizabeth, it’s cold out tonight. Why don’t you invite your guest inside?”

Bess swallowed hard, glancing up at Elvis, whose cool demeanor and friendly smile belied the fingers she could see tapping against his thigh through his pocket. She looked out at the car, then up at the dark sky, shaking her head to herself.

“ Hi Papa, this is, uh - ”

Elvis stood up straight and jerked his hand out as he strode to shake her father’s hand.

“Uh, good evening, Sir, I’m Elvis, Elvis Presley.”

“Yes, I’ve been expecting to meet you for some time now.” Bess’ mouth dropped open. Before she could find the words to protest, her father was putting his arm around Elvis and guiding him inside. “I understand you and Ilsa have been spending a lot of time together, jah?”

*********************************************

“Can I pour you a whiskey?” The table lamp flickered as Bess’ father walked by, his calm words trailed behind him on his way to the bar.

Elvis sat at the edge of the couch patting his hand to a silent rhythm and then bouncing up again to pace over to the hi-fi set.

“Naw, jus a Pepsi - or a Big Red, honey.” Bess glared at him as he looked up at her from where he perched in front of the record player. “Bessie. I mean, Eliz-a-bess.”

Bess frowned as Elvis popped open the concealed door in the sound system’s speakers and proceeded to rifle through her father’s LP collection. Her father arched his eyebrow, muttering in German that the boy seemed to know his way around and feel quite at home, jah? Bess was asking Rex and Lamar what they wanted when Mama floated into the living room, swaying the skirt of her red dress back and forth, a dreamy look in her face. Bess froze, looking around the room, then scuttling over to her mother and latching her arm around Mama’s waist, whispering in her ear.

“Mama - Hi Mama, I thought you went upstairs to relax?”

The boys all stood up as Mama patted Bess on the shoulder. “Bess, you’re making the lamps all buzzy, stop buzzing around and introduce me to your friends.”

Bess sighed and then froze when Elvis walked over and took her mother’s hand, kissing the top.

“Evening, ma’am, I’m Elvis, Elvis Presley, s’a pleasure to meet you, I can see where your daughters get their good looks from, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

Mama giggled and blushed. “Ha, well, you are charming. The faeries told me Bessie had a new beau, but they didn’t say he was handsome.” Bess’ face went white as she tried to guide her mother to the big orange leather chair in the corner, but Mama swatted her hands away. “Bess, I said to quit fussin’. Go get our guests something to drink.”

Every cell in Bess’ body was on high alert, and she rubbed at her throat trying quell the nauseous, tight feeling that now plagued her stomach. Bess had not brought Ben, her former fiancee, home to meet her family until he had asked her to marry him. At that point, they had already been going steady for two months, she had trusted Ben completely and had given him a thorough debriefing on Mama and the family dynamics. She had known Elvis a month. ANd spent the last two weeks hating him.

Elvis returned her mother’s hand and flashed Bess a warm, crooked reassuring smile. Rex and Lamar gathered next to him making their awkward introductions, before Papa walked over and offered Mama his hand, tilting his head at Kay.

“Come sit with me, Emily, let the boys relax. Katherine, you get the drinks.”

Bess followed Kay into the hall. “I’ll get it, Kay, I -uh - I was gonna make Mama a special cup of tea - “

“I got it, I know how to do it. You go back in there.” Kay winked, and left Bess to sigh as she took a deep breath and resigned herself to face whatever was waiting for her in the living room.

Elvis sat on the edge of the couch trying to stop his knee from bopping up and down with the palm of his hand, already in conversation with Bess’ father.

“Jah, I started off in the German division, but now I oversee all intelligence training.”

Elvis’ eyes widened and he seemed grateful to see Bess walk back into the room and hit Lamar to clear the seat next to him on the couch. Bess shook her head and sat at the piano bench, trying to think of how to change the subject.

“Papa, I imagine the boys are tired after a long week and - “

“Oh Bessie, don’t send them away!” Mama waved her off as she got up and happily plopped into the clear spot next to Lamar, shooting Bess a playful frown. “You never bring friends over any more, it’s a breath of fresh air having young people over. Want any leftover tuna noodle casserole?”

A momentary grimace passed over Elvis’ face as he declined, and Bess' father coughed.

“Too bad we don’t have any meatloaf, perhaps zat would have suited you better.”

“Actually, mister, I’m bout plumb fed up with meatloaf, EP’s been ordering - “ Lamar stopped talking at the sight of Elvis’ eyebrow, arched in warning.

“Well, Bess makes a great meatloaf, you boys will have to come back for dinner sometime. I’ll get her to cook it up for you.” Mama bowed her head with certainty as she spoke, turning Elvis’ hand over in her lap as if to read his fortune. “Elvis, such an unusual name. What does it mean?”

“Ugh, well, ma’am.” Elvis scooted back against the arm rest, turning in to face Bess’ mother more directly. “I have been told it means someone who is uh, very wise.” He winked over at Bess as she rolled her eyes. Kay returned, and she bounced up to assist in handing out the drinks.

“I’ve never heard the name Elvis before tonight, is it common where you’re from?”

Lamar gasped. “You never heard ‘a Elvis?”

“No, why, should I? Do you all work with Henry in Intel?”

Elvis shook his head. “No, no ma’am, Rexadus here and I, well, we’re new recruits, and Lamar right here is jus’ a ole friend of mine, visiting.”

Mama smiled big. “Oh, well, if you think I would have heard of you from Bess, you have another thing coming. She’s a sphinx, that one, never tells me anything about anything.I have to get all my gossip from the wind.”

“Elvis is a famous performer, mama. They’re surprised you’ve never heard of him because he is on the radio. And the movies.”

“Oh, is that true? Would I know any of your music?”

Just then, the phone in Papa’s office began to ring and he stood up to excuse himself, muttering in German that he would hardly call it music. Bess exhaled a chuckle at the curious look on Elvis’ face.

“I’m guessing that weren’t a rousin’ endorsement from ya daddy,huh ?”

She shook her head, and Mama clucked.

“Oh, Henry didn’t get enough red food tonight, don’t mind him. You know, you’re not the first song and dance man I’ve met. When I was a girl - “

“-I met Eddie Cantor when he sang at Zeyde’s theatre on Coney Island.” Bess and Kay exclaimed in unison with a grin.

Bess relaxed as the room filled with warm laughter and she almost felt like they were a normal family, teasing and chiding each other as they entertained guests.

“Oy, well, it’s true, you boys have heard of Eddie Cantor, haven’t you?” Mama grinned at their nods, and took it as her cue to keep talking between sips of tea. “Well, I was just a kid when he was first making it big in New York. And my father had this vaudeville theater, and we met all sorts of acts working their way up the circuit. Baby Rose Marie, Bert WIlliams, Jimmy Durante, and, of course, a lot of nobodies trying to be somebodies. Eddie was probably the most successful guy to come through our place. Boy, was he handsome! Tall, dark hair, those big gorgeous eyes, like two rounds of chocolate.”

“Mama, zey ton nisht veln tsu hern vegn deyn shule meydl krashiz.”

“Oh, Bess thinks I shouldn’t share these things. She thinks I’m an old lady, that I don’t have blood pulsing in my veins. But I’ve always appreciated a good looking man.” Mama patted Elvis' knee. “Still do.” Then all of a sudden she swayed into Elvis' shoulder, her eyelids fluttering before she slumped on his shoulder.

“Ma’am? Ya ok? I’ve had girls swoon before, though they usually heard a me.”

Bess jumped up and looked over at her sister. “How much did you put in her tea, Kay?”

“Just a tablespoon.”

“It’s supposed to be a teaspoon!” Bess growled through clenched teeth as she felt her mother’s pulse, and tried to unfurl her mother’s arm from around Elvis’ shoulder.

“I’ll take her up - “

“Aw, honey - s’ok, want me to - “

“ - Well, it was an easy mistake.” Kay hovered behind Bess, and stomped her foot.

Mama’s eyelids fluttered back open for a moment and she looked up into Elvis' face. “You know, you have a beautiful aura, Alvis, I can tell you are a good person - Bess, if you don’t marry him, I will.”

Bess gulped, and looked at Kay. “Help me get her up the stairs?”

Before they could do anything, Elvis lifted Mama and nodded at Bess. “Jus lead the way, ‘k Bess honey? Boys, y’all go on out to the car, and we’ll get outta ya hair ‘fore you say lickety splickety.”

Lamar sighed with relief and could not get through the hallway fast enough, almost knocking the telephone off the little desk as he passed. Rex, however, hung back, gathering up the bottles of pop and taking them to the kitchen behind Kay, looking back to nod at Elvis in a silent offer to help. Elvis shook his head and followed Bess up the stairs.

“Alright, now, Mrs. Schwartz, ma’am, ya gonna be snug as a bug in a rug, jus you wait.”

Elvis set Mama down in her bed carefully, gently taking her hands and placing them at her sides. Mama opened her eyes and trailed her fingers over the sharp edge of Elvis' crew cut, smiling dreamily as she asked “Almond” if he would marry her.

“Ya so sweet and beautiful, I would, I would if I could, ma’am.”

Tears welled up behind Bess’ eyes as she watched the tender way Elvis kissed her mother’s cheek and squeezed her hand before she passed out. They exchanged a long look, and Bess blushed.

“I’m sorry you had to see all this, I’m so embarrassed. You didn’t have to stay and help me - “

Elvis rubbed her shoulder. “Honey, I wanted to help, I like helping folks. Ain’t nuthin to be shamed of. Really Moo Moo, wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to. An getting to spend my night with the prettiest lil gal in town, why, that’s just the icing on the cake.” His face scrunched into a big grin as he held her, and bess nodded into the comfy wook of his red sweater.

Elvis stood in the doorway, watching curiously as Bess took off her mother’s shoes and tucked her under the large, homemade victory quilt that they had sewn from old clothes during the war. It was the only blanket Mama would sleep with, and for Bess, it evoked that time in her childhood when Papa was overseas doing things he couldn’t talk about and Mama was the strongest woman she could imagine.

Now, as she looked down at her mother and smoothed hair out of her face, it was Mama who resembled a little girl, finally relaxed and at ease as she started to snore. Her sleeping face free from the cares and mysteries of the world. Bess kissed her mother on the forehead, and turned to find Elvis waiting for her in the doorway. His blue eyes seemed to penetrate her soul, as his thumb rubbed the side of her shoulder.

“Holdin’ it all together, ain’t ya Moo Moo. I see you. I really do.”

Bess shuddered at his touch, wiping the side of her eyes.

“I, um, I. Well, you caught us on a bad night, Almond.”

He chuckled, drawing her into his arms and kissing the top of her forehead.

“Nah, ain’t nothing bad about anything.” The sides of his crinkled as he smirked. “Almond, huh. maybe ya mama there is on to sumpin. Might sell more records and movie tickets if I changed my name to Almond instead. Tell you what, wudda made it harder for the Army to find me.”

“Yes.” She took his hand and led him back down the stairs.”Though you would have missed out on your freel vacation here at beautiful Fort Hood.”

They were back on her porch, and Elvis was clasping her hand tight. He looked out at the darkness, and at his car on the street, then over the garden, before turning back to hover over Bess, hands resting at her waist.

“Wudda missed out on meeting you, honey. Ya my silver lining. Tonight, being here with you, I know it now for certain that fate brought us together.”

Bess turned her head to listen to the crickets, wondering if they had any advice on how to defy fate. Especially when fate distracted you from all common sense by nuzzling your forehead.

“Elvis - I - “

His lips were at her ear as he drew her closer. “Aw, Moo Moo, I cain’t bear to think I made you cry. I mean it.” His thumbs rolled up and down Bess’ sides. ”I promise, ain’t ever let that happen again. I swear. Cuz I need ya, honey, been thinking ‘bout you all the time.”

Bess couldn’t resist the way his eyes lit up with hopeful vulnerability, it made her feel like she was the one who had wronged him by withdrawing her company from him.

“I - I think about you too.” She cupped his cheek. “I’ve seen you doing laps every evening, are you doing okay?”

Elvis huffed and pinched her side. “Oh, yeah, you know me. Every morning, those drill sergeants find a reason to be cross at me, makin’ me do extra PT. But ain’t nothin I can’t handle.”

Bess nodded. Then Elvis’ hands tightened all the way around her, constricting her so tight she almost couldn’t breath, before parting with a soft, chaste farewell kiss and a vague promise to call her the next day.

Bess was humming to herself as she turned off the porch light and locked the door behind her, stopping short when she saw her father come out of his office.

“Everything ok, Papa?’

“Jah, jah. That was just the secure line, a call from D.C.” He straightened his sweater, coughing as he took in the dim quiet of their house. “Ze hound dog has run off, I take it?”

“He’s not so bad, you know.” Bess shifted and looked at her feet, unable to stop the smile at the corner of her mouth. “The drill sergeants have really had it out for him this last week. He’s been running extra PT and they put him on latrine duty. Must have pissed off the wrong person.”

Bess stopped talking, noticing that her father’s face had soured into a tight grimace. She had probably been right not to tell her parents that she had been seeing Elvis. This would be tough, now there was nothing she could do now.

“Jah, that boy did piss off the wrong person. Me. You would be wise to cut your ties with him, Elizabeth, he does not respect women. And you have a bright future ahead of you. I might expect Katherine to be dazzled by this flash of Memphis. But you are too smart for all that. I would hate to see you lose focus on your goals to run around with a boy who brings his hoochie coochie girlfriends to town and flaunts them in your face.”

Bess was silent as her father pursed his lips, nodding, then said good night. She listened to the sound of his footsteps as he walked up stairs, her mind racing as she tried to figure out how he had found out about Elvis. About the debacle with Anita. About all of it.

The disappointment she had seen in her father’s eyes crushed her, and Bess tossed and turned in her bed all night trying to figure out how she could make him understand that she could have fun and still go after her goals. It was the thought of Elvis’ long thumbs caressing her body that finally calmed her down. The memory of his touch was like her own personal dose of benzodiazepine, it made her forget all her problems and give herself over to the sandman.

********************************************************************

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radiant-reid · 2 years ago

Text

Christmas (Baby, please come home)

a/n: i did say i still have Christmas fics to write, so judge me if you want

Summary: Spencer's gone for Christmas, and you and the twins wish he wasn't.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (minor angst, major fluff)

Word Count: 3.2k

Masterlist | Navigation

Christmas Eve was a hot chocolate night. That was the tradition every year. Hot chocolate out of the house, a walk back home, bedtime, then Christmas morning.

This year, there's an extra step that they all wish wasn't there: Facetiming Spencer. And that's not a guarantee. It's scheduled, but there's no assurance about how long he can be on the phone.

It kills all of them, and the sacrifice sucks, but there aren't a lot of choices when the State Department calls. The deeply buried positive is that there's a year limit on how long he will be away, and only four months in, it seems impossible to do that two more times.

"Momma, look at the snow." Theo cheers, holding one hand up in the air while his other's wrapped around his hot chocolate.

The three of you are walking through the city on your way home, looking at all the fancy lights strung up around people's houses. It's gorgeous, but it can't be perfect without Spencer.

You nestle his hair. "Sorry, baby, it's a snow machine." You nod to the machine spurting out look-alike snow. "We're not going to get snow this year."

"Or daddy," Evie adds, pouting.

You wrap your arms around them, pulling their little bodies in for side hugs. "He'll be back soon." You promise, desperately hoping they believe it.

"Do you think he'll bring us a present?" Theo asks, grinning up at you.

Spencer will. If not for his guilt, then because he likes to spoil them. "Yup, what do you want?"

"Maybe..." He pauses to think about it. "Peanut butter."

"Peanut butter?" You repeat with a giggle, Evie joining in. "You'll have to ask him about that."

"I want food from wherever he is." She decides.

You frown at your picky eater who really doesn't like trying new foods and will order chicken nuggets from any menu anywhere. It's been a struggle to get her to try more than three of Rossi's pasta dishes. "I'm not sure you'd like it, E." You tell her. "And I'm not sure daddy's allowed to bring food back. We're going to have ham and turkey tomorrow, though."

It's going to be a lot of food, accompanied by stuffing, roasted potato and sweet potato, vegetables- that you'll have to bribe them to eat- and cranberry sauce. And that's not including dessert. There's brunch and dinner at Rossi's on boxing day as well, and he's never been on everyone bringing a plate.

"Remember when daddy set the oven mitt on fire last year?" Theo recalls, bursting into giggles with his sister. It was hilarious, Spencer's high pitch squeals as he threw the mitt in the sink and set off the smoke alarm.

"Remember that next time he asks who's the better cook." You remind them, anticipating Spencer would ask after Christmas to tease her.

Evie turns to look at you. "What's daddy going to have for Christmas dinner?"

You don't have an answer, but she's mostly asking for reassurance that he's okay. "Something really yum." You assure her. "You can ask when we call him."

That answer satisfies her enough for no more questions and saves you from having to explain anything more on his behalf. You can't resist taking a few photos of them on the way home, standing in the streets surrounded by Christmas lights, looking adorable in their coats.

"Okay, go put your pajamas on then we can call." You instruct them once you're back at home, taking their coats to hang up.

They scramble to get ready, excited to talk to Spencer. Everything about being home makes you miss him, like the display of framed pictures in the hallway, his shoes in the doorway, and his coat in the closet.

You clean up the living room a little, putting away all the toys that accumulate over the day. It's what you do when Spencer's working with the BAU since he's clumsy and likely to trip over blocks in the middle of the night.

The Christmas tree in the living room has lots of gifts under it, and their little Theodore and Evelyn stockings hang under the mantel, waiting for presents.

Then you make your way upstairs to their bedrooms just before 9:30, where they're waiting on Theo's bed. You sit next to them, holding out the phone so they'll be able to see him before you call him.

Cell reception in the desert, you anticipated and have discovered, is terrible, but for once, Spencer's face is clear on the screen. His background is blurred, as usual, safety concerns would mean you can't see what's behind him, but the timezone difference means it's dark.

"Hey, there are my favorite people in the world." He says, waving. His voice sounds different on the phone. You can't feel it either, like you're laying on his chest, and you miss that like you miss the rest of him.

"Daddy!" They cheer, pleased to see him.

"How are my sweet babies?" He asks with a wide smile.

They mirror it, and you don't think you'll ever get over the similarities between them. "Good," Theo answers.

"We had hot chocolate," Evie reports.

"With lots of marshmallows?" He checks. "And sprinkles."

Another similarity: sweet tooths. "And whipped cream," Evie tells him. "Did you have hot chocolate?"

"Not yet." He says.

"Can we have some when you're home?" Theo asks, looking between you and his dad.

You and Spencer nod in unison, and you avoid mentioning it could be 90 degrees and summer by the time he comes back. "Of course, bud." He answers. "All the hot chocolate you can drink."

He grins, pumping his fist in the air. "Yes!" He cheers. "I could drink a gallon."

"That might not be the best idea." You remind him, although the smile on his face is worth him thinking he can drink a sick-inducing amount of hot chocolate.

"Especially because we'll have marshmallows," Spencer adds. "We can have another Christmas dinner then, too."

"But mommy has to cook," Evie says.

Spencer chuckles, looking at you and shaking his head. "You wouldn't be poisoning young minds while I'm away, would you, Mrs. Reid?"

You shake your head. "Wouldn't dream of it, Doctor."

They talk for a little while longer before the twins can barely keep their eyes open, beyond tired from the late hour, their excitement reduced enough for them to be able to sleep.

As the new routine goes, Spencer wishes them goodnight while you tuck them in, giving them two kisses each, one from each of you. Then it's your turn to talk to him, and you're grateful you drank more coffee than you probably should have.

You sit on the couch instead of upstairs in bed since there's still some stocking stuffing to do. "What's the time where you are?" You ask.

You don't know exactly where he is or what he's doing it. It's the way you both prefer it because he's not in the middle of the desert half a world away to monitor the ecosystem.

"10pm in DC, so 5 am." He says.

You know he can't be getting a lot of sleep over there, and as much as you want to talk to him, you want him to rest when he has the rare opportunity. Getting up early does not help that.

"Don't worry, it's fine." He assures you, seeing your face change. "I can function on a few hours of sleep."

"How are you?" You ask. "Tell me about normal stuff, like the weather."

He laughs his adorable laugh. "Better than it was when I came." He tells you. "And it never rains. It's just hot and dry or less hot and dry."

"Thought you'd be used to that, desert boy." You tease his aversion to the warm weather.

"This might be a surprise, but I spend most of my summers inside where the aircon is." He corrects you.

"Here I was thinking you were outside playing basketball." You joke back. You can hear his laugh and see his smile, and things feel okay, but it'll end too soon like it always does. "I miss you." You tell him, and you feel bad about it.

At least you have two kids with you that are constant reminders of him. He's all alone, somewhere you don't even know, and he gets to talk to his family only a few times a week.

"I miss you, too, sweetheart." He says. "Can you switch this to a voice call?"

You pout, waving goodbye to him, but agree, placing the phone on your ear. "Now I don't get to see you." You complain about another situation that's worse for him.

"I'm sorry." He apologizes before adding an afterthought question. "Oh, did you get the package at the door?"

"No." You answer. "I would have seen it when we came in."

"I told them to drop it at the backdoor." He tells you. "Safety precautions and all that."

You get up off the couch, walking towards the location of your mystery package. "Please tell me you didn't add to the crazy Christmas delivery overload by buying me more gifts."

"Sort of." He says. "It's for all of you, though."

That gets the gears in your head turning about what it could be. "I hope it's a trampoline. They'd love it, but then you'd get on, and hurt your knee again."

"I got shot in the knee." He corrects you. "I could backflip."

You scoff, laughing. "That I would love to see. Or go-carts." You guess again, holding the phone between your ear and your shoulder while you unlock the door and turn the door hand. "Oh, maybe tickets to an all-inclusive resort in the Bahamas."

What you're greeted with isn't plane tickets: it's the best gift you could imagine. "We can go to the Bahamas if you want." He says, out loud and through the phone.

Your first reaction is to drop your phone on the ground, not caring whether it shatters, and jump into your husband's arms which you haven't felt around you in a very hard, long one hundred and thirty-nine days.

Spencer still smells the same. His perfect cologne makes your house feel completely like home once again. Applying it to his pillow and hoodies for you to wear has not been enough.

He feels slightly more muscular than he used to in his arms and shoulders, and it's a welcomed change. He holds you there, tighter than he ever has before for so long that you stop counting. It satisfies what you've been craving.

He pulls his head back from your shoulder so he can kiss you while he hugs you. "I've missed you so much." You confess.

"We can say that in the past tense now." He says, kissing you once again. "We should go inside. You've got to be freezing."

You didn't realize until then that you went outside in jeans and a shirt, but you can't be cold when he's so warm. Spencer only keeps one arm around your shoulder when you step inside, carrying his bag in the other.

"I've missed this house." He says. "Everything about it."

"The unvacuumed floor?" You joke. "Or the toothpaste the twins spit on the mirror?"

"It's you and them and everything else in between." He assures you, putting his bag by the laundry as you move to the living room. "And I'm in time to be Santa." He cheers excitedly, noticing the stockings.

You nod, pulling him to the entryway. "They're in here." You say as you open the closet and take a trash bag full of gifts from the top shelf while Spencer takes off his shoes.

"Wow." He says when you hand him the heavy sack.

"I know." You nod. "I went a little crazy, but you weren't going to be here and I didn't even buy everything you suggested so..." When you turn back to look at him after closing the closet, he's just staring at you. "What?"

"I love you." He says like it's the most important thing ever.

You beam, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him again. "I love you."

"Let's stop being sappy in the hallway, we've got Christmases to make." He declares with a smirk.

"You're going to be making everyone's Christmas just by being here, Spence." You assure him, walking back into the lounge. "Oh, and the team! They'll be so excited to see you."

Spencer puts the bag down on the couch, pulling out gifts to put in the right stocking. It's always like no time has passed when he comes home, no awkward moments or getting back into routine.

"Are you hungry?" You question. "Thirsty? Are you too tired to be doing this?"

He shakes his head, smiling at you. "I'm good, sweetheart. I told you I can function on a few hours of sleep." He assures you. "Honestly, I've never been better."

"How'd you get back so early?" You wonder, sitting on the couch to watch him.

"I just heard I was leaving, so I got on the plane." He explains. "Oddly, they're not the most forthcoming government department."

You chuckle before answering the hard question. "Do you have to go back?"

And you get the answer you were hoping for as he shakes his head before adding more good news. "I don't have to go back to the BAU for a few months either."

That's more than enough of a Christmas gift for you. "They're going to be so happy when they wake up and you're here," You tell him.

"I'm so happy to be here." He says, finishing putting the last gift in Theo's stocking. "In time for Christmas, too."

"We're so lucky." You repeat, holding out your hands.

Spencer grabs your hands and pulls you up, wrapping his arms around your waist and spinning in circles in the living room. "Bed?" He offers.

"Please." You beg. "I have been sleeping in the middle of the bed, though, so I might kick you."

Spencer laughs as he follows you upstairs, holding your hand. "Well, I'm looking forward to sleeping on a mattress without lumps in it."

Once you reach the top of the stairs, Spencer wraps his arm around your shoulder, and it's like you're taken right back to when you first started living together, and you wouldn't let go of each other for hours after he got home from a case.

"I have to kiss them goodnight." Spencer stills when you pass Theo's room.

You go back to holding his hand as he pushes the door open slowly to avoid waking him. He's tightly tucked up in bed still, sleeping peacefully, and Spencer brushes some curls off his forehead before kissing him softly.

"I love you, little man." He says before you tiptoe out, careful of the creaks in the floorboards. "Did he get bigger?" He asks once you're safe in the hallway.

"They both did. I think at least an inch." You report.

You go to Evie's room next, repeating the same routine of Spencer admiring her before kissing her forehead and sneaking out of the room again.

"I never want to lose that much time with them again." He confesses as you walk towards your bedroom.

You know it must have killed him to be away for so long, but he's here now and that's really what matters. "But you're our hero." You remind him.

He smiles at that. "How many of the clothes I left here have been worn?" He asks, suspiciously looking around the closet you ended up in to get pajamas.

"Oh, all your hoodies and t-shirts." You assure him. "The good news is that they all smell like me now."

He nods in agreement. "That is good news." He grabs a hoodie and some pajama bottoms, but before he changes, he notices you just watching him. "Did you... want a show?"

You chuckle, shaking your head. "I think we might need to save that for tomorrow night. What I'm doing is admiring you and making sure you're not injured."

"Promise." He says, and maybe you're misleading him by making it sound like it's a 50/50 split because there's a lot more admiring going on than checking injuries. "Satisfied?" He asks, smirking at your wandering eyes.

"So satisfied." You assure him, blushing a little. "Thanks for that."

"You're very welcome." He says. "Wanna go to bed now?"

"Yes." You agree, both of you finishing your bedtime routines before getting under the covers.

Spencer pulls you close immediately, cuddling you into his side. "Merry Christmas." He whispers, kissing you softly.

"Merry Christmas." You reply, wiggling even closer to him. It doesn't take you too long to fall asleep with the warm feeling that your family is all under one roof finally.

And it's not a dream.

In the morning he's there, kissing your forehead as he gets out of bed. You turn to look at the clock. "Spence, it's 6:30."

"Lucky it's not earlier." He jokes. "My internal close is messed up." "You better be getting me coffee." You tell him, holding out your finger as you rest your face against the pillow in an attempt to get another few seconds of sleep.

He brushes the hair off your shoulder, exposing it so he can kiss your skin. "Promise." He says.

You don't fall back asleep. You just grin at the ceiling until Spencer comes back in a few minutes later with coffee. You moan at the taste since he always makes it better than you do. "This is so good."

He gets back under the covers next to you and sips his own mug. "I've had nothing but instant coffee, not even drip coffee."

"So how long do you think we have until two little people bust open the door?" You wonder.

"Two minutes." He estimates, and you raise your eyebrows, knowing the one way he could know that. "Okay, fine. I did go into their rooms to shake them." He confesses.

You laugh, shaking your head. It's an old trick of his to get them up. "You're terrible."

"I want to see my little babies." He sulks, pouting playfully. "Plus, they've had nearly nine hours of sleep."

The pitter-patter of tiny feet starts in the hallway when Spencer suggested it would, and you both put your coffees down in anticipation.

"Mommy, it's Christmas," Theo reports, tapping on your door.

"Come in." You instruct. "I've got an amazing surprise."

Spencer scoffs next to you. "Only amazing?"

There's no chance for you to provide another adjective before 2 five-year-olds race in, jumping onto the bed without looking at who's next to you. The realization sets in on their faces after a millisecond, and their eyes grow wide before the high-pitch squeals start as they launch at him.

He grabs both of them, one in each arm as he holds them tight to his chest. "Hi, sweet angels." He says, kissing their foreheads.

"I missed you." They both tell him.

"I missed you both more." He assures them.

Evie pulls back to eye him suspiciously. "How did you get here?" She asks.

Spencer smoothes a hand through her hair. "On a plane." He tells her. "I couldn't miss Christmas."

"Now this is the best Christmas ever," Theo says, assuming up how you're all feeling.

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