#grab-bag prompt list

[scorchieart]

Heyy can i please ask for clavis/8/comfort/2nd pov?💕

Characters: Clavis Lelouch x F!Reader

POV: 2nd person Genre: Comfort

Prompt #8: “Just once, I want to hear you say it.”

Wordcount: 3021

A/N: Heyy @aceuuuuu! 💜Thank you for the request. It was a journey to get it finished, got some angst sprinkled in to enhance the comfort, but I hope you'll enjoy the direction it takes. This is the second installment of my reverse-comfort mini series in this larger grab-bag event. Big shoutout to @venulus for the help talking through how Clavis might react in this situation 💜

**Note: Reader is bilingual.

Even with all three wicks lit, the candelabra still felt eerily cold in your hand as you pushed open the door. Night bathed the library in an ethereal, otherworldly view, as though this was a parallel Rhodolite filled with books and knowledge uncharted in your reality. Exotic, mystifying, and taboo.

You tiptoed across polished tile, taking extra care to mask your steps as you peered down the aisles. Rows and rows of lifeless bookshelves returned your curious stares, but you pressed forward with your investigation undeterred. Prince Chevalier was never wrong before.

As scrupulous as he is stubborn, he had said, with more contempt than you thought necessary at the time. But the more you listened to his detailed first-hand accounts, the more confused you grew that they existed at all. How could a person, a prince no less, possibly find the time and energy to think and do and be all the things Chevalier claimed of him without going mad? It spun your own head in circles simply trying to make sense of it. 

The bookshelves lining the wall all came up naught, but you had scarcely begun inspecting the rows by the windows when you heard it. Soft and faint yet determined to subsist, like the sizzling candles at your side. You moved slower, the sound growing more alluring the closer you approached, and poked your head just enough to see what was down each successive aisle until you found him.

Perhaps his head was spinning in circles. Or perhaps he was mad.

Perched at the far end of the row was Clavis Lelouch. But like with the library, the darkness altered his appearance into something utterly unrecognizable, and you struggled to keep your heart from beating out of your chest as you took in his mangled form. The space between the bookshelves was narrow, barely enough for two people to stand side by side, but Clavis managed to sit on the floor with his head resting on one of the lower shelves and his legs bent in odd positions to fit against the opposite bookcase. Beside him he had set a single candlestick in a jar, the flame so small the melted wax threatened to extinguish it at any moment. His long white coat draped over his stomach like a blanket, and his jacket and gloves lay neatly folded in the center of the aisle. In his hands he held a large book, though it was only one of many open tomes and papers chaotically piled around him. Ink-blotched sleeves rolled up to the elbows and wrinkled collar limply hanging open, Clavis looked as though he was knocked out cold in a brawl with the books, his normally coiffed hair sticking widely out in all directions and obscuring his typically brilliant shining eyes. But you knew he was awake, because the sounds you were hearing came out of his rapidly moving lips like a man possessed. 

Smoke and mirrors are his favorite toys, Chevalier once said. You pushed his voice away, tiptoeing deeper into the aisle to focus instead on what came out of Clavis’s mouth. Why did his words sound so familiar?

Before you could come up with an answer, your foot caught in the folded clothing and the candelabra slipped from your grasp and fell to the floor with a loud clank! Luckily the flames went out with the whoosh of the fall, but in the dead of night, the sound seemed enough to announce your existence to the entire palace. Clavis flinched in his seat, eyebrows climbing his forehead and hands zipping behind his back like a frightened child caught doing something naughty. But as soon as those brilliant shining eyes found yours, his shoulders relaxed and his face broke out in a brilliant shining smile.

“Dearie me,” he said, wiping the hair from his face and sitting up straight. “And what reason could a darling little one have in a scary library this late at night?” 

“I was about to ask you the same question,” you replied, regaining your footing and crossing your arms. “Minus the darling part.” You wouldn’t let him treat this as a joke. You came here on a mission. 

“Aha,” he mused, stretching his arms like a large cat. “What reason do any of us have to do anything, really, if not for our own enjoyment?” He locked eyes again with you, but you noticed him surreptitiously shutting books and flipping sheets over as he spoke. “Life would be so dull otherwise.”

Even a child has more patience. The only way to progress is to play his game.

“You find enjoyment practicing contortionism in the middle of the night?” you asked. Clavis let out a low, mirthful chuckle. The kind you’d expect from a villain who successfully fooled the hero.

“Would that impress you? To learn your beloved prince is so multi-talented?” he asked, moving in front of the books and spreading his arms. “These limbs will bend and flex at your command! Now, my sweet, why don’t you come and test out a warming embrace?”

The only way to progress is to play his game. 

Chevalier’s voice grimly echoed in your mind as you knelt before the prince and returned his hug. The dim firelight from the jar bounced off his tired face, giving him the waxy, droopy visage of an old candle, but despite his ghastly appearance he was nevertheless gentlemanly in the way he cradled you in his arms and drew small circles on your back.

“Even the bravest of us fear nightmares,” he whispered after some time. “But wandering around in the dark? That’s practically inviting anyone to spook you even more!”

Find his weak points, or he will exploit yours.

You shifted yourself so that your chin rested on his shoulder, giving you access to the mess behind him. Even in the low light you could tell Clavis covered his tracks well in his haste; books were snapped shut and loose sheets were either turned over or tucked away. But all you needed was one clue. You just had to stall until you could find it. 

“You wouldn’t spook a scared, darling little one wandering around in the dark, would you?” you asked innocently, scanning the book spines for any legible titles.

Clavis’s shoulders shook as he chuckled. “Well, I suppose that depends. It’s always impressive the more people you can manage to spook, so I might do it on a group. But if it’s only you—” he leaned his head against yours, his soft hair falling in front of your eyes and obscuring your vision “—I don’t know which side of me would win out. The gentleman or the beast.”

The urge to rip his arms off and shove him into the bookcase rose in your gut, but you suppressed it and instead brought your hand to his head and brushed his hair, moving it out of your view as you resumed your search. Of the book spines that faced you, none of the titles contained any letters or symbols you’d seen in the palace, but it was too dark to make out anything more. 

“Now, wasn’t that simply marvelous?” Clavis announced with a content sigh. “I always feel much more relaxed after a warm hug. Don’t you? And now that we’re both relaxed, let’s get you safely back to bed, hmm?” 

Find his weak points. Twist them to your advantage.

“Not yet!” you blurted without thinking, wrapping your arms more firmly around him. “I… uh… I’m still scared.” Though you couldn’t see his face, you could imagine the smug grin he grew.

“How about a lullaby?” he offered. “I recently learned one I just know will make you smile.”

“No, no. Just keep talking,” you said. The light in the jar was almost extinguished, and you frantically razed your eyes across the mess to catch even a sentence. “Tell me what your nightmares are like.”

He let out a breathy wheeze. “I don’t think you’re ready to hear about my nightmares.”

“Why? Afraid I’ll laugh?” you said.

“They wouldn’t be nightmarish then, would they?”

It was no use. Everything on the floor was hidden too well. He was enjoying this.

“Cry then?”

“Closer, but not quite.” 

Squinting in the dark hurt your head, and you shut your eyes to think. You missed your chance. Clavis could end the game whenever he wanted.

The only way to win is to break him when he thinks he’s got you.

Your eyes shot open and bore at the spot he previously sat in. And there it was. The book Clavis was holding when you caught him, hurriedly shoved to the back of the bottom shelf. It was much too far away to read, but the cover was visible enough for you to recognize it instantly; a book of nursery rhymes from your childhood.

You turned your head, your lips hovering inches from his ear. “Afraid I’ll find out what you’ve been studying?” you whispered in your native tongue. 

Clavis stiffened in your hold then rocketed backward. His eyes grew to the size of saucers and his mouth gaped open and closed as he fumbled over his words.

“Wha…. How…. Who—?” 

His expression morphed again and again with each question until finally settling on a bitter scowl. 

“I knew you two were talking about me,” he said darkly, in a voice you had never heard from him before. Not even the bliss of night sky from the windows behind him could soften the atmosphere, and your hands grew clammy as the room took on a macabre tone.

“Clavis.” You fought the worry building in your throat. “It’s not what you think.”

“Did you gather enough intel for your lingui-buddy?” he snarled, standing as he spoke. “Were you planning on heading to his room now or waiting until morning to reveal the latest juicy gossip about his failure of a brother?”

“It’s not like that!” you retorted. But Clavis had already turned away, the pile of books scooped into his arms.

“Isn’t it? Why else talk about a man in the same room as him in a language he can’t understand except to laugh at him?” he asked, slipping into the next aisle of shelves.

“Clavis!” you called, chasing after him. It wasn’t true. Even though you’d lived in Rhodolite most of your life, there always existed that veil of separation between you and the natives you could never remove as hard as you tried. And arriving at the palace as the first non-Rhodolitian Belle filled you with the renewed dread of jumping off the deep end from your first day in the kingdom. But despite his reticent introduction, Prince Chevalier quickly proved to be your most reliable companion in the palace. The conversations you held only served to build respect as he helped you navigate your new role, never to provoke others. Except, of course, when you asked about his eccentric younger brother whom you had grown exceedingly curious of.

So impotent he only shows his true self when he is backed into a corner.

You rounded the corner to the next row of shelves and found Clavis furiously shoving books into their slots, the scowl still present on his face. 

“Listen,” you began, “I talk with Chevalier about all of you because it’s my job.”

“Don’t lie,” he spat, ramming a particularly massive book into the shelf. “We already know who you’re choosing as king.” He turned again and disappeared down the next aisle.

“I still have a few weeks until I decide, and I’d like to get a comprehensive understanding of all the candidates before I choose,” you said. “But as some princes aren’t being fully honest with me, I am forced to consult others to fill in the blanks.” Though hot on his heels, you entered the next row to find it completely empty.

“From the day you arrived at this palace, I have been nothing but honest with you,” his voice called from another aisle, followed by the sounds of books getting shoved back into place.

“You just claimed you only came to the library to bend your limbs until I discovered you!” you argued back, dipping into the next aisle. Again, he was nowhere to be found.

“Correction.” His voice floated from someplace else. “You assumed what I was doing, and I only played along because it was enjoyable to me. I neither confirmed nor denied your theory. It’s your job as Belle to determine truth from fiction. And you have at your disposal the greatest fact-checker ever to set foot upon Rhodolite.”

And deflection is his preferred weapon when others are mentioned. Particularly I.

You huffed as you followed the sounds of his footsteps. Why were those two always at each other’s throats? Why was it so difficult to talk to one about the other? It was as if the castle itself was fueled by their rivalry. So why after all these years could they not settle things face-to-face? Why did you, a complete outsider, have to get roped up in their family feud?

“Why must you both be so pig-headed?” You couldn’t suppress yelling the insult in your language. You briefly pictured the two chasing each other in the library, slinging insults over bookshelves like children. But the image didn’t stick for long; it was far too improbable.

And then it hit you. Chevalier’s excessively detailed accounts of his brother weren’t given out of disdain. They were a plea.

“I may not know what all of those words mean,” Clavis called. “But Chevalier is ten times whatever it is you said. And he’s also a big, ugly, ungracious—Goodness!”

The loud thud instantly revealed his location, and you exited the row you were in and made a beeline for the library entrance. Fallen books lay scattered around Clavis’s collapsed body, and you ignored his protests as you knelt beside him and gently brushed your fingers over the fresh bruise growing on his forehead.

“Do you know what a closed door means?” you said. 

“I wasn’t trying to run away,” he groaned, pushing your hand back and sitting up. Darkness masked him, but you could still make out the distressed lines marking his face and the way his shoulders sagged with each breath.

“Clavis, when was the last time you slept?” you asked.

“This afternoon. I took a nap in the office,” he responded quickly.

“No, I mean really slept. Like a full-night’s worth.”

He didn’t answer, instead busying himself with rolling out his sleeves and fixing his crooked collar. It felt awkward watching him, like you were intruding on him getting dressed, and your eyes wandered to the books surrounding you. From nonfiction to folktales, Clavis had amassed a wonderful collection of works from your home. You picked up a children’s book and studied its cover, the familiar shapes and arrangements of letters bringing joy to the desolate library.

“Why?” you asked, flipping through the pages.

“I already told you,” he said. He clasped the final cuff and turned towards you. “I do things because I enjoy them. Nothing less and nothing more.”

“And I already told you I’m trying to learn more about you. And not just as Belle,” you said, your heart growing heavy. You stopped at a page with an illustration of two figures holding hands, a boy and a girl, and traced their smiles with your finger. “Please, just once, I want to hear you say it.”

Clavis inhaled deeply, then scooted next to you and copied your tracing, his calloused fingers occasionally rubbing against yours. “Would you believe me if I said I wanted to learn more about you in turn?”

“Then why go through all this effort when you could just talk to me like a normal person?” you asked.

He tapped his finger on the boy’s head. “I could never talk to you the way Chevalier could. And Chevalier’s not a normal person.”

He was right. Chevalier wasn’t a normal person. He was a prince living arm's length from his people, but behind a veil. Neighbors, and yet a world apart. A world inhabited only by those who have seen the sun rise through his eyes, breathed the air that blew through his skies, and slept underneath the same set of stars. 

No, Chevalier and Clavis weren’t normal people. They were extraordinary. 

Pale light filtered in through the windows as dawn approached, and Clavis discreetly caught a yawn in the crook of his elbow as he stretched his back.

“I wouldn’t call that as relaxing as a warm hug, but now that we’re both sufficiently embarrassed, let’s get you safely back to bed and pretend this night never happened,” he said. But before he could stand, you grabbed his hand and pulled it back to the book. 

“Not yet,” you said. Ignoring his half-bleary-half-astonished expression, you dragged Clavis’s hand to the top of the page and placed his index finger on the first line of the text. “Your pronunciation needs work.” 

It might have been more prudent to take up Clavis’s offer of returning to bed. Your head swam with the discoveries you learned about the royal brothers, and you were sure they would be better digested one at a time while lying in your comfy palace bed. Clavis’s weary head tettered concerningly as you guided his finger over each word in the book and sounded them out to him, and you were certain he would prefer to have this reading session at a time when he could keep both his eyes open. And you were positive that the best thing the both of you needed right now was a restful sleep. It was what Chevalier would say was the logical thing to do in the situation. But as night turned to day, the second prince’s name was never brought up again. And as the sun bathed the library in an angelic, auspicious glow, Clavis closed both his eyes and rested his cheek against your shoulder, and you closed the book and used your finger to trace the soft smile that bloomed from his lips.

I believe one of the greatest ways people connect is through language learning, and I have the deepest respect for those who learn the language of the place they live in when it isn't the same as their native tongue. Also, I realize this fic super overshot the wordcount limit, but to make up for it, Jin's comfort fic will be bite-sized, lighthearted, and maybe even a little comedic.

Tagging: @queengiuliettafirstlady @violettduchess @venulus @thewitchofbooks @leonscape @rhodolitesrose @venti-tangents @dear-sciaphilia @ikesenwritings @myonlyjknight @ladyofcrowsx @otomefoxystar @my-day6

If you would like to be added or removed from my tag list, please send me an ask or a message.

[parkersbliss]

you lock the 141 outside your house (I know my rights tiktok)

pairing: task force 141 (ghost, gaz, price, soap) x american!female reader 

synopsis: you lock them out of your (their?) house, claiming you "know your rights." based on a tiktok trend with soldiers.

warnings: none just fluff and humor :)))

a/n: I wrote this in like an hour and I think it's the funniest thing EVER thanks

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

requests open for tf141!

SEE TIKTOK HERE

—

Ghost: 

You watch as your boyfriend gets out of his truck in the driveway. He grabs his bag from the passenger seat and makes his way to the front door, a smile twitching under his mask at the sight of you waiting for him. 

Just as he steps to the porch, you close the door and lock it. “I know my third amendment rights!”

Ghost stops at the door, dropping his bag. Rights? What were you talking about? “Your what?” 

“No Soldier shall, in time of peace, be quartered in any house without the consent of the owner,” You reply, reading off your phone. 

Ghost sighs. Third amendment? Of course, the one American he dates is the one that has them all memorized. You could probably recite them in your sleep. Patriotism, or whatever. Which makes zero sense. You were living with him in Manchester. If all went well and you got married, he was making sure he changed your status to British. 

“You fucking Americans.” He grabs the key from his bag, going to unlock the door only to find you locking it. “Are you serious?”

You show your phone at him through the glass, the third amendment displayed on a Google search. He stares back at you from his mask, unamused. “Bloody hell, woman,” he mutters. 

You giggle from behind the door and give him a few more minutes before going to unlock it. You knew Simon’s limits. You only needed a few seconds of fun anyway, but by the time you unlock it, he’s gone. 

“Simon?” You call out, poking your head out the door and checking around the house. His truck was still there, so he didn’t turn back around. You don’t see any movements or even hear anything. Was he picked up by aliens? 

A thud sounds from behind you, and you yelp, shutting the door and turning around. 

Simon stands in front of you, arms crossed and his duffel bag on the floor.

“What the hell?” You said, looking him up and down. 

“I should be asking you that,” He retorts. “You should really lock your windows, love.” 

“Are you… did you climb through one?” 

“You locked me out.” 

“I went to unlock it!” 

“Third amendment rights, my arse.” He grabs your waist, pulling you towards him. “We’re in England.” 

You shrug, tracing up his arm. “Thought it was funny.” 

Simon just sighs. “Americans.” 

Gaz: 

“Oh, hell no!” You exclaim as Gaz approaches the door. “I know my third amendment rights.” The lock clicks. 

“No fucking way,” Gaz said, strolling up to the glass storm door. 

“No soldiers in this home.” 

He stares at you, his hands on his hips and that signature scowl on his face. There was no way he was coming home to this bullshit right now. “Open the door.” 

“No quartering soldiers without my permission,” You replied. 

Gaz rolls his eyes. Your home? He was pretty sure his name was on the mortgage, even if you were living in it 90% of the time. “I own the fucking property! I live here. You’re the guest.” 

You shrug, grinning. “Not anymore.” 

He runs a hand down his face. Sometimes just sometimes he regrets finding your stubbornness so damn attractive.  “I’m going to crash out, actually.” 

“Crash outside? Yeah.”

“Let me in!” He shouts, grabbing the door handle and jiggling it. 

“No!” You shout back, holding onto it and preventing him from entering without your permission. 

Gaz leans against the glass. “Remind me why I chose to date an American?” 

You smile at him. “Because we’re funny, and we have better Chinese food.” 

He glares at you, trying to unlock the door again. He groans when there’s no avail. “Babe!” 

You say nothing, finding his annoyance quite amusing and a change of pace for once. 

And then he actually crashes out, grabbing the handle and pulling, twisting, pounding at it. He yells a string of curse words and then starts banging on the doorframe. He gives up, frowning, and leans his forehead on the glass. “Please?” 

You unlock it. “Thought you’d never ask.” 

He storms inside, throwing you over his shoulder. “You are so in for it.” 

“I like where this is going,” You giggle as he throws you on the couch. 

He raises a brow, hands coming to your waist. “Yeah?” He starts tickling you. You yelp, laughing under him and trying to push away. 

Gaz doesn’t relent and continues tickling you even after you’ve pleaded with him to stop. “You lock me out of my fucking claim it’s your right,” He mutters. “Consider this my very reasonable punishment.” 

Soap: 

“I know my rights!” You shout, watching Soap approach the door. 

He stops in his tracks, tilting his head. He had no idea what you said. The poor guy could barely hear from all the bombs going on around him, and you shout through a door? Good plan.  “What are you on about?” He asked. 

“There will be no soldiers in my home!” You close the glass door and lock it. 

He approaches the front door, staring at you through the glass. His expression is clueless, brows furrowed. “You mean our home?” He knocks on the glass. “Can I come in?” 

“Nope!” 

He frowns. “Why?” 

“Third amendment.” 

“Amendment?” He scoffs. What the hell are you talking about? Is this what he gets for dating an American? You start proclaiming your rights? What’s next, the pledge of allegiance? “Are you taking the piss? Does this look like the land of the free?” 

You giggle at him, his accent thickening with his frustration. “I’m still an American!” 

“Trust me, I know! Can I please come inside?” 

“No soldiers allowed.” You tape up a piece of paper displaying those words. 

Soap continues frowning at you and realizes he isn’t going to be let in anytime soon. It’s a good thing he knew how to easily change that. Americans and their rights. More like Americans and their feelings. He sits down on the porch steps, facing away from you, rests his chin in his hand, and sighs loudly. 

You don’t budge. 

He sighs again, kicking his boots on the porch, turning back at you with sad eyes. Still nothing. He concludes there was one last option to get you to let him in. He grabs his phone, and you watch with furrowed brows as he types something in. Suddenly, music is blasting from his phone as he looks at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes ever. Not just any music, but the sad hamster violin music. 

“Oh my god.” You unlock the door, opening it up to him. “You’re such a baby.” 

He practically skips inside, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Your baby.”

Price: 

Your husband stands on the porch, rolling his eyes at you.

“I know my rights!” You shout at him through the window. 

“Do you, now?” He asked, playing along with your prank or whatever this was. If it brought you this much amusement to lock him out, he might as well indulge in it. That was the kind of man he was. Until he started freezing of course, then he would demand you let him in. 

You nod your head. “As an American, amendment 3 of the Bill of Rights says that I don’t have to house you if I don’t want to.” 

Price hums. At least they taught you something in American schools. “Does that extend when you’re in another country?” 

“It does to me.” 

He huffs, grabbing something from his pocket and displaying it to you. “You know I have a house key, yes?”

“I’ll just lock it again.” 

He tilts his head at you. You were really trying to sell whatever rights you thought you had. “Really?” 

“I’m taking this very seriously.” 

Price strokes his beard. “I can see that.” An idea pops into his head, and he steps away from the glass and in front of the door. You didn’t want to let him in? That’s fine. You wanted to lock the door? No problem. He’s got methods of entering from being in the military, after all. “Guess I’ll just have to kick down the door.” He raises his foot, fully intent on doing it. You were going to repaint the door anyway, might as well get a new one. 

You swing open the door. “Are you crazy?” 

He strolls past you. “Did I lock you outside our home? Besides, crazy would’ve been bombing the house.” 

Your lips parted, unsure if he was joking. You assume he is, but his expression says otherwise. “Are you being serious?” 

He laughs at your face, grabbing your hand. “Only if you start proclaiming your rights again.”

You put your hands up. “What rights? Suddenly, I’m feeling like this soldier can stay as long as he likes.” 

Price presses a gentle kiss to your lips. “Thought so.” 

[nickfowlerrr]

everybody talks

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut, fluff, a bit of angst. unprotected p in v. dirty talk. nipple play. if i’m missing something that needs to be tagged, pls lmk!

words: almost 7.7k

notes: happy halloween 👻 so i had an idea for reclusive neighbor!bucky meeting reader when she stops by his house with a group of kids for trick or treating, and this is very much not that but i think it still works lol. also, i wrote this in a day? i don’t think i’ve ever written more than like 4k in a day before so, yay me!

i wanted to participate in @witchywithwhiskey’s horror movie hoe-a-thon but i decided so last minute and then thought the deadline was the 31st, but i absolutely read the guidelines wrong bc it was actually yesterday and i missed it lol. i’m linking her event still though bc i did use a quote prompt! 🖤

The loud shaking of the wobbly cart you grabbed in your hurry precedes you as you make your way through the ridiculously crowded grocery store. Normally you would have been mortified - probably would have left the cart and ventured off to grab what you needed sans basket - but you don’t have the time to be concerned about the looks you’re getting as you walk fast down the aisles. 

When your sister asked you for help organizing a family halloween party, you didn’t realize she meant an actual little community family friendly party for the street she lived on.

You had gotten two frozen pizzas, a bag of candy, a case of soda, and some random bags of chips you were sure your nieces would love, just last night. That would have certainly been enough for you, your nieces, and both your sisters, but unfortunately, that wasn’t where the guest list ended. 

The look on her face when you showed up to her house with just those few things would have been funny if she wasn’t already on the brink of a breakdown.

Her husband was out of town for work and she was doing all the halloween prep for Sid herself, thus why she enlisted your help with the party and your younger sister’s help for the trick or treating plans.

Before she could snap and completely lose her cool on you, you were already rushing to the front door, keys still in hand, promising you’d be back within the hour and she had nothing to worry about.

That’s how you found yourself among the crowd of the woefully unprepared this afternoon. 

You loaded the cart with six more frozen pizzas, three family servings of the deli’s hot and ready fried chicken, two packs of halloween cupcakes, two more cases of soda, an extra case of water, and three boxes of capri suns before you started filling the cart with the halloween party snacks you found in the holiday section. 

You were getting a workout as you pushed the basket, less shaky now thanks to the added weight, heading to the candy section to grab a few bags of whatever they had left.

You were distracted by the end cap display as you turned down the aisle and didn’t see the man standing right in front of you, accidentally running into him. Though, running into him sounds like an exaggeration. With how heavy your basket was, and how sturdy the man before you was, it was more like a bump - a love tap. He didn’t even really react to it aside from looking over briefly to you and your basket.

Even still, you apologized profusely, rambling an apology about not looking where you were going before you finally got an actual look at your victim. 

Your words stopped almost abruptly when your eyes met with crystal blues. His stare was icy, but not cold, moreso piercing.

He blinked and broke your trance, offering you a shy smile before he looked away.

“It’s okay, you’re fine,” he said, eyes fixed back on the shelves of candy.

He was dressed in dark denim jeans and a black crewneck sweatshirt, his hair was dark and down to just above his broad shoulders, and the stubble that lined his strong jaw suited him well. You didn’t realize you were staring again until he looked back up at you.

You forced yourself to smile then, ignoring the heat you could feel creeping up your neck and rising to your cheeks.

“Sorry,” you offered with a nervous laugh before you forced the cart behind where he stood to go onward. 

You could have sworn you saw a blush rising to his cheeks as he smiled to himself, avoiding your gaze, but you weren’t entirely sure. 

And you definitely didn’t have the time to ponder on it.

Instead, you began your own search of the shelves to find not only your nieces�� favorites, but your sisters’, too. 

They were both working hard to make their kids’ halloween a good one, they deserved a little treat themselves when all the work was done. You, on the other hand, still single and child free, were planning on treating yourself all night. You were there to help, sure, but most of the work wouldn’t be done by you. You were looking forward to seeing them off to trick or treat and plopping down on your sister’s couch to watch movies for the rest of the night - handing out candy, of course, should any kids come by.

Once the party was set up and over, you’d be free for the night and you couldn’t wait.

You were lucky to find most of what you were looking for, but couldn’t seem to find the last kind of chocolates you wanted to get. 

As your eyes scoured the shelves, you found yourself looking back over to where the handsome stranger still stood. His brows were furrowed as he held up two boxes of full size candy bars, seeming to be debating between the two.

The look of concentration on his face was endearing, you could almost chuckle at how serious in thought he seemed to be over candy.

You smiled to yourself, returning to your search. As your eyes left the man, traveling instead to the rows of candy in front of him, that was when you saw the bag you needed. In the section right where he was standing, because of course they’d be there. 

He huffed in exasperation before you watched him drop both boxes of candy into his cart. He turned to head down the aisle in your direction and his eyes widened slightly when he saw you still standing there.

“Oh, sorry, I’m in your way, aren’t I.”

“No, you’re fine!” You assured him as you left your basket, walking closer to him. “I just needed to grab this,” you said, looking up with the bag in hand. He hadn’t moved from where he stood as you approached, so you were inadvertently in his personal space - but he didn’t make any attempt to move from you. In fact, he looked almost frozen. 

His bright eyes were on you, one hand on his cart, the other clenched by his side. He seemed to go a bit ridge at your proximity, like he didn’t want to make any sudden movements, but he relaxed after a second after seeing your soft smile, blinking at you as his cheeks burned. 

You quickly backed away, hoping to not make him more uncomfortable and to not embarrass yourself further.

You grabbed onto your cart and looked his way once more, meeting his eye again as his sights were already on you. 

You smiled shyly, “Sorry, again, for hitting you,” you offered, “happy halloween.”

He didn’t respond verbally, but he did give you a small nod of acknowledgement.

Your smile grew tighter before you turned and made for the check out, sighing as you rolled your eyes at yourself, mentally chastising yourself for being such an awkward inducing mess. 

The lines were long and as you waited, you had to field a call from your sister, promising her you were checking out and would be back at her house soon.

You finally got through the line and were on your way out the sliding door when your cart almost crashed into another. You gasped as you pulled at your cart to stop, the heavy weight carrying it forward, its momentum causing it to almost ram right into the cart beside it.

The doors were only big enough for one cart to go through at a time, so you looked up to offer whoever it was you almost crashed into the lead.

It was your turn for your eyes to widen as you once again were met with those piercing blues.

“I am so sorry, I’m not doing this on purpose, I swear,” you laughed nervously, backing up a bit so he’d have room to go through the doors. “Go for it,” you said.

He shook his head, “Please,” he gestured for you to go in front, “ladies first.”

Had you not been in a hurry, you would’ve argued that he should go ahead, but seeing as your phone was lighting up with messages from your erratic sister, you smiled and pushed on forward. “Thank you,” you breathed.

You were trying not to pay attention as he followed behind you, but when you got to your car, halting your basket at your trunk, you couldn’t help but notice as he stopped next to you.

You looked over at him, and he looked over at you. He smiled this time, popping his trunk, “What are the odds?”

You tittered, not knowing how to respond. You couldn’t help your smile though as you turned back to your trunk and started putting the bags in.

He himself didn’t have much in the way of bags, and was finished putting his stuff away and taking his cart back by the time you were halfway done putting your stuff in your car.

You saw as he approached his door from your peripheral, and looked up and over in his direction as he abruptly stopped just before he was about to pull open his door.

For a second, he looked like he was about to turn around but then thought better of it, reaching for the door handle again before pulling away once more. 

He squeezed his car keys in his hand before he turned back around, completely this time. You blinked at him, in a bit of a stupor as he came up to you. You waited for him to speak as he opened his mouth before quickly shutting it, taking a breath, then anxiously licking his lips.

“I’m Bucky,” he introduced himself a bit stiffly before his lip quirked up in a nervous half smile. Your brows raised of their own volition before you gave him your name in turn.

He seemed to be relieved by your reply, as if he was worried you would have ignored him, before he took another step closer to your car. “Can I give you a hand?”

“Oh, uhm, sure. That’d be great, thanks.”

“Big plans for the night?” he asked as he slid the packs of soda and the water into the car.

“My sister is hosting a little halloween party for the families on her street before they head out trick or treating tonight, I’m helping her out with setup and food. But after that,” you sighed, putting a few more bags in, “I’m planning on just watching movies between trick or treaters. Nothing crazy. You?” you asked, looking over to him.

“I’m planning pretty much the same. I don’t know how many trick or treaters to expect, I’m new to the neighborhood and… maybe haven’t been the friendliest neighbor,” he cringed to himself as he grabbed the boxes of juice. “But I got the full size candy bars, so…”

“Sprung for the full size, huh? I’m sure those kids’ll love it. You’ll be the talk of the block,” you joked.

His chuckle had you smiling so hard you had to bite your lip to keep from looking like an idiot.

Bucky took the last of the bags from you and set them carefully down before he closed the trunk for you. You were hanging onto the cart, waiting to say bye before you walked it to its home, as he turned, shoving his hands in his pockets before he spoke. He had that anxious look on his face again, his eyes down at the ground while he licked his lips mindlessly before he met your eye.

“I, uhm,” he seemed to register where his hands were then and took them out of his pockets, “I hope this isn’t too presumptuous of me, but, did you maybe, want to exchange numbers?” he asked, bright blue eyes bearing into yours.

Your lips parted unbidden, eyebrows raising in surprise, or more like shock, as your eyes widened.

“You- you want my number?” you asked stupidly. You didn’t give him a chance to answer though before you continued, “Uhm, yeah,” you nodded, “sure.”

The delicate smile on your lips grew as you reached for your phone.

You exchanged numbers and said your goodbyes before you were finally headed back to your sister’s place.

You were smiling like a fool as you drove, a sense of giddy taking over you. This kind of stuff never happened to you. You were still in a bit of disbelief as you pulled into your sister’s driveway, calling her to help you unload but deciding against telling her about your little grocery store meet cute. At least until the party was underway and her stress levels came down.

—

Grumpy. 

That’s the word you would use to describe your current state.

This was not how tonight was supposed to go. You should be lounging on a couch watching scary movies with a bowl full of candy right now, not clopping down the street in your wedges - a last minute costume thrown together as your niece held your hand and pulled you along with her while your sisters and baby niece strolled behind.

Sidney had thrown a fit when she learned you wouldn’t be coming along for trick or treating and only calmed down when you finally relented and agreed. But of course, you couldn’t just go out in what you were already wearing, no, that would be too easy. You absolutely needed a costume. 

At your sisters’ and niece’s goading, you were forced to put something together. 

You were already in all black, so you snagged the leftover cat ear headband your sister had and made your already done eye look a little more exaggerated. You all left soon after, your niece’s jubilance as she skipped out of the house easing your annoyance at the change of plans. As you started down the driveway, you were cursing yourself for not having brought your sneakers, and your sisters for both having smaller feet than you.

You walked up to house after house with your niece, taking turns switching who was going up to the door every two or three houses. In between houses, you finally told your sisters about the guy you met at the store earlier, how attractive he was, how he helped you load your car, and how he asked for your number before you went your separate ways.

It was nice to be able to talk with them about it, it had been a long time since it had been just the three of you together - no obnoxious boyfriends or overly talkative husbands to interrupt your conversations. You had to say, you were starting to feel a bit more grateful for your niece’s insistence on you joining them.

As you talked to your little sister while she held her daughter, you both watched as your niece tugged on her mom’s hand, refusing to go up the pathway of the house you were now at. As you looked around, you realized everyone else seemed to be avoiding the house, too. You weren’t sure why, though. The porch light was on and there was a cute, though solitary, ghost decoration that would greet you as you walked up the path to the house. 

“What is up with that?” you asked aloud.

As your older sister walked back over, she answered your question. “She doesn’t wanna go, she says it’s haunted.”

You fixed your niece with a look, “What do you mean haunted? Who told you that?”

“Evan and Fifi. They said the metal man lives here and he kills anyone who tries to come in.”

“The metal man, huh? Well,” you said, making a point of looking all around the front of the house, “it looks to me like whoever lives here is ready to pass out candy to anyone brave enough to knock. The lights are on, and did you see the ghost up front? They’re probably just as excited about Halloween as you are.”

“No.” she responded flatly.

“No?” you scoffed. “Ohhh, okay,” you exaggerated, “I get it, you’re too scared to go. That’s all you had to say, Sid, no shame.”

“I’m not scared,” she argued, her face scrunched in annoyance at your insult.

“Really? If you’re not scared then why won’t you go knock on the door?”

She floundered for a second before she narrowed her gaze at you. You wanted to laugh at the low growl that radiated from her but held it together. 

“We’ll all go,” she finally decided, looking all three of you in the eyes to make sure you were all ready to accompany her.

—

It had been two hours since the trick or treaters had started their nights. 

Bucky could hear the laughter and screams of playful fright as family after family and group after group of friends passed by his house. 

The bowl of king size candy bars sat on his coffee table untouched as It played on his screen. 

Every now and again he’d get up and look out the kitchen window, hoping to see a dead street to make himself feel better about the lack of trick or treaters, but only found the streets full of people.

The more time that passed without a single knock or ringing of his bell, the worse he felt. 

He could lie and say he didn’t know why he was taking this so hard, he wasn’t one to complain about his solitude, but truthfully, he knew why.

He had heard the neighbor kids talking about him the other week, telling tales of horror about the metal man who lived next door. If seeing his arm was all it took to spur their tales and ignite their fear of him, God, he didn’t even want to know what would come if they found out even a little bit of his past. 

And if it wasn’t the kids starting their own urban legend at his expense, it was the adults who would gossip about him at their backyard barbecues. The mysterious man who lived alone and kept to himself was an easy target for lowly neighborhood gossip, and the few people who had pieced together who he was seemed to be tight lipped about it. Anytime they saw him in public, their eyes would bug and they would quickly avert their gaze, like they were scared what would happen if he knew they knew. It’s not like his identity was a secret, but he wasn’t planning on striking up a conversation with them to let them know that. Especially not when they looked at him like that. Like he was some kind of monster.

Even still, he didn’t want to be the social pariah on the block. He hated to think that anyone was scared or weary of him, though he knew most of them were.

He sighed heavily as he checked the time once again. 

So much for that ghost helping to dispel his bad reputation. He’d be requesting the money he spent on it from Sam later, it was his idea for him to get halloween decorations in the first place. He should have known it wouldn’t have helped.

As his phone unlocked with his FaceID, he was tempted to send a message to the woman he’d met earlier in the day. He wasn’t sure what it was about her, but he hadn’t felt so disarmed by someone in a very long time. And the fact that she was gorgeous, and didn’t seem the least bit frightened by him, was a nice feeling, too. 

But she was probably watching movies and relaxing by now, he didn’t want to be a disturbance. Tomorrow, though. He’d definitely be messaging her tomorrow.

Another sigh left him as he locked his phone again, tossing it on the coffee table before making his decision.

Bucky paused the movie before he stood, bowl in hand, prepared to take it to the kitchen and shut his porch light off on his way upstairs. It was only gonna get later and he had to accept that no one was going to trick or treat at his house this year.

But just as he was setting the bowl down on the table, he froze.

Was someone actually coming up the porch?

He swore he was just hearing things…but then came a knock.

—

“You can’t just stand there, Sid, you have to knock or ring the bell, pick one.”

“No.”

“Ugh,” you exaggerated with an eye roll, turning to look at your older sister, “you live with this everyday?”

“Everyday,” she replied.

“Sid, if you don’t knock, you don’t get candy,” you told her.

“If I don’t knock, I don’t get murdered.”

“Alright, fine. I’ll do it myself,” you shrugged, adjusting the cat ears on your head.

You raised your arm to knock on the door, but Sid stopped you, pulling it back down.

“I don’t want you to get murdered, either!”

“Sidney,” you laughed, kneeling to get on her level, “I promise you, no one is going to get murdered. This house isn’t haunted and a murderer doesn’t live here.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” your little sister chimed in, earning a glare from you before you couldn’t help your laugh, shaking your head before turning back to your niece.

“I just met Evan and Fifi at the party, and I know for a fact they were just trying to scare all of you guys. I doubt they’ve ever met whoever it is that lives here. Now, do you trust me?”

Her reluctant nod was your answer.

“Okay. Then I’m gonna knock on the door, and we’re gonna get some candy. Cool?”

“Cool.”

“Cool,” you nodded with a smile before standing back up.

Sid inched back to stand in front of her mom, pulling her arm to hide herself behind as you once again went to knock on the door, this time following through.

You knocked and heard footsteps from within, smiling as you waited for the homeowner to open the door.

Once it opened, though, you found yourself completely taken aback. 

Your breath caught in your throat as a newly familiar pair of brilliant blue eyes met yours.

Bucky stood at the open door, bowl of full size candy bars in hand. He looked just as surprised to see you there as you were him. 

He tilted his head at you, a lopsided grin spreading on his face.

“Trick or treat!” Sidney yelled, seeing the big bars and coming to stand in front of you.

Bucky looked down, smiling as he showed her the bowl, “Happy Halloween,” he said, allowing her to pick which one she wanted.

“I know how this looks, but I swear I’m not stalking you,” you promised.

“I don’t know, it seems like a lotta coincidences for just one day,” he smirked, cooly leaning against his door frame. “Nice costume,” he complimented.

“Ha, thanks,” you smiled, touching the cat ears once again. “Nice ghost,” you nodded toward the lonely decoration, “Really livens up the place,” you teased. 

“That was the intention,” he laughed, a little too glumly for your liking. “You guys are actually the first trick or treaters I’ve had all night, so I guess it didn’t really do its job.”

“Sorry, you guys know each other?” your sister asked.

“Yeah, uh,” you turned briefly, “this is Bucky,” you said.

“Bucky from the grocery store, Bucky?” your little sister asked.

You gave her a look you hoped Bucky didn’t see before answering, “Yes. That Bucky.”

Your sisters introduced themselves to him and as he switched the candy bowl from his right hand to his left, extending his palm to shake their hands, you noticed a glimmer coming from  his left side.

You moved over a bit to allow them room to shake hands and as you looked closer, you realized that, peculiarly enough, his left hand wasn’t made of flesh. 

You scoffed a laugh to yourself at his “metal man” moniker. That made some sense now… In fact, a few things were clicking into place. Bucky, you thought…Bucky Barnes? The Bucky Barnes. You wondered how you hadn’t noticed earlier, not that it mattered, but you were staring, like kind of a lot, at him when you met at the store, and even when he was helping load your groceries. You really must have been distracted by just how gorgeous his face is.

Now that you were really looking at him again, you noticed just how built he was. Strong arms, solid chest, nearly six foot tall if you had to guess. 

Your sister’s laugh brought you back to reality as you followed her gaze to Sid who was now taking a bunch of bars from Bucky’s bowl as he held it out for her again.

“I doubt anyone is coming my way again, so please, take what you want,” he offered to all of you.

“That’s really nice of you, thanks,” you smiled as your sisters each took a bar of their own. “We’ll uh, let you get back to your movie,” you said, remembering his plans for tonight.

“The movie, yeah. I think I might have to start it over, actually. I went on my phone for a minute and looked up to see a blood covered bathroom but I have no idea how they got there,” he huffed a laugh at himself.

“Oh, what are you watching?” your little sister asked.

“It,”

“It? No way, that’s so funny. That’s the movie you were gonna watch before we left tonight, isn’t it?” your older sister asked knowingly, a smirk no one but you and your younger sister would ever catch flashing for a microsecond on her lips as she looked at you pointedly.

“Yeah,” you swallowed thickly, “it is,” you said, trying not to let the awkwardness that was eating at you consume you entirely.

“You should stay and watch it,” your little sister suggested, to your complete and utter mortification. Your eyes shot over to her, and you swear, if looks could kill. 

“I’m not just going to invite myself-”

“Come on, like he minds,” she turned to look at Bucky then, her hands still on her stroller holding her baby, “you don’t mind, do you?”

You peek over at Bucky, unsure of how you would even react if you were in his position. He met your eye and his lips quirked in a soft smile. “Not at all. If you wanted to, that is,” he added, offering you an out.

You looked at him a moment before looking over to your smugly smiling sisters and your niece as she tore into one of her candy bars, standing safely between the two of them. You inhaled sharply before looking back to a waiting Bucky. 

You nodded.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Sounds…fun.”

“Great, well we were heading back anyway. So, see you later?” you sister bid. 

“Or not,” your little sister added teasingly before she shot her gaze over to Bucky once more. “But we do have her location, just so you know,” she added seriously, a hint of a warning in her words.

“Ooo-kay,” you said, breaking the forthcoming tension, “I will text you guys when I’m on my way back,” you told them, urging them to get going.

“It was nice to meet you, Bucky. I trust my sister will get home safe,” your sister said directly.

“I’ll make sure of it,” he responded gallantly while your face felt as if it was literally on fire.

What was this, it was like your parents were dropping you off for your first date in high school. But somehow worse.

She nodded, “And thank you for the candy. Sidney,” she called, getting her daughter’s attention, “what do we say?”

“Thank you! Happy Halloween!”

“You’re very welcome,” Bucky smiled. “Happy Halloween.”

—

It wasn’t long before you found yourself sitting on Bucky’s couch, a glass of water you had desperately needed sitting before you on the coffee table and Bucky sitting to the left of you, but keeping a respectable distance.

“I’m really sorry about my sisters, by the way. They can be a lot,” you huffed a laugh.

“Don’t be,” he brushed off, “It’s nice to see, honestly.”

You looked over at him, he seemed a bit forlorn before he came back to himself. 

“You know, my niece was almost too scared to come to your door. She said this house is haunted, that ‘the metal man’ lives here and kills anyone who tries to enter.”

“Ah, I see word travels fast when it comes to children.”

“Yeah, you’re kind of like their own urban legend.”

Bucky rolled his eyes playfully as you laughed, lifting a leg up to cross under your thigh as you turned to face him on the couch.

“What?” you asked, “Don’t you want to be an urban legend?”

“Not really,” he laughed with a shake of his head, turning to face you better as well. “Especially not when it leaves me with bowls full of king sized candy bars no one seems to want.”

There’s a pause before he continues,

“Honestly… I don’t like knowing people are scared of me. I mean I’ve known, for a long time, that they are, it’s just.. Different when you can see that fear on their faces, in person.”

You didn’t even realize you were moving as you scooted in closer to him while he spoke.

“I thought the city was bad, but ever since I moved out here, it’s all so much more intimate. The stares are a lot more pointed.” He laughed humorlessly at himself, “I heard a couple kids talking about my arm a few weeks ago and tried to tell myself I didn’t care, but I’ve been wearing nothing but long sleeves every time I go outside now. 

“I’m not ashamed of it,” he said quickly to clarify, “I just, I don’t want them to have to be scared of me.”

“They shouldn’t be scared of you just because you have a prosthetic arm,” you argued, knowing they surely knew nothing else of who he was, “and their parents should probably be leading by better examples.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “what can you do?” He swallowed the lump in his throat that was forming at your defense of him, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring all this up-”

“No, I’m sorry, that’s on me. I am incredibly skilled at killing conversations before they even begin.”

“I don’t know about that. You don’t know me well yet, so you don’t know how big of a deal this is, but, I like talking to you,” he smiled. 

You had to look away from his gaze, breathing a laugh as you did. 

The movie was playing on screen, but neither of you were paying any attention to it as you continued talking.

Each time Bucky laughed at your lame jokes, you swore you felt like you were flying. You talked about everything and nothing. You got to know each other better, asking questions about life and preferences and favorites and what-ifs. The conversation flowed so easily, you never even really had to think about what to say next. That definitely wasn’t usual for you, and you liked it. You liked him.

Somewhere along the way, the conversation turned flirty, and again, it was completely effortless. 

Your knees were pressing against one another as you sat across from each other, almost side by side on the couch.

You laughed in unison at a cheesy line Bucky tried on you before a jump scare on the screen had you quite literally jumping. Without thought, you leaned into Bucky, and he had no qualms about it as you hid your face in his shoulder.

He laughed lightly, his arm coming around you and gently rubbing your back before you forced yourself to pull away. His warmth was so nice and welcoming, but if you didn’t back up, you would’ve tried to nuzzle right into his side - you couldn’t risk the embarrassment.

As you turned back to sit next to him though, he kept his arm around you and tugged you in a bit closer. 

You briefly wondered if he could hear your heartbeat, because you definitely could. You thought it might beat out of your chest at any moment as his warm cologne invaded your senses.

“Sorry, I guess I just assumed you liked scary movies,” he laughed.

“Ya know what’s funny is I actually hate scary movies,” you told him, “the It movies are some of the very few that don’t scare me.”

“Oh, that was you not being scared?” he smirked with a raised brow.

“That was- it just, it caught me off guard,” you defended with a smile, absentmindedly leaning more into his hold.

You had never gotten so close to someone in such a short amount of time, emotionally or physically. 

It was foreign, but you enjoyed it. It may have been sudden, but it didn’t feel rushed. 

“You get scared easily?” he asked.

“I’m the biggest scaredy cat I know,” you admitted. “I’m not hard to get a jump out of, I get scared of literally everything,” you laughed at yourself.

You turned to look at him when he didn’t say anything and felt your breath catch in your throat for the second time that night. He was so close to you now, and his eyes were piercing as he took you in, lingering on your lips and sending a chill through you.

The energy between you seemed to shift from something light and playful to something more charged, deliberate.

Your eyes drifted to his lips despite yourself, too.

He leaned in just a touch closer to you and your lips were mere inches away as he spoke,

“You’re not scared of me,” he said, though you weren’t sure if it was a question or not. Still, you responded as if it were.

Leaning in, brushing your lips against his, you breathed, “No.”

His hand was on your head then, keeping you close to him as he pressed his lips against yours, it was fervent, yet delicate, as your lips moved against one another. 

You moved a hand to hold onto his left shoulder and he tugged your body to move you completely over his lap while he continued to lead the kiss.

His metal hand found its way to your plush waist as he held you, squeezing you lightly and inadvertently causing you to sink down lower into his lap while your upper body melted into him.

His hand slid from your waist to your ass, grabbing you through your leggings, kneading your ample flesh in his large palm.

You moaned into his mouth and that seemed to spur him on because in the blink of an eye you found yourself being flipped onto your back as he pinned you beneath his large body.

When he finally broke the kiss, you were both panting, your hands fisted in his sweatshirt as his wandered your curves. 

“Do you have a bed?” you breathed, pulling him back down to be closer to you, wanting desperately to have his lips on yours once more. He nodded.

“Glad you asked,” he returned, voice low and husky.

You yelped as Bucky lifted you in his arms, standing and carrying you with ease while you clung to him like your life depended on it. If he dropped you, you weren’t sure you’d be able to recover from the embarrassment. But as he began up the steps and his hold didn’t falter for a single second, you realized maybe there wasn’t anything to worry about.. He held you like you weighed nothing and honestly, it sent a new wave of arousal through you as he reached the door of his bedroom.

He tossed you down on his bed carefully, but stopped you before you could begin tugging your leggings down your thick thighs. 

You looked at him, confused and with a touch of worry you were about to be rejected.

“I’m sorry,” he began, “I should’ve said this before I brought you up here,”

That did nothing to ease your worry…

“I really like you. And I think there could be something real here between us, I don’t want to ruin that. So if you were only here for one night,-”

“I really like you, too,” you cut him off, eyes gleaming into his, “And I think you’re right, I don’t wanna ruin it either. I wasn’t planning for this to be a one night stand, but if you want to take things slower, I don’t have a problem with that.”

“No, I’m good with where we were heading, I just wanted to make it clear that I don’t want this to be just tonight.”

You nodded, a little breathless as you smiled up at him. 

“Same page, then.”

“Good,” he grinned before pushing you to lie back on his bed as he descended upon you. 

His lips were on your neck and as he sucked on your sweet spot, you couldn’t contain the soft moan that passed your lips. 

His hands found the waistband of your bottoms and he pulled them down as much as he could manage before you lifted your hips and wiggled a bit to assist him in getting them off of you. 

You pulled impatiently at the buckle of his jeans, earning a chuckle from him before he got to work taking them off. 

While he got rid of his jeans, you pulled your shirt up and over your head, catching on the cat ears you had forgotten you were wearing. You threw them all to the side, unclasping your bra as Bucky shrugged his sweatshirt off over his head in turn.

He was back on top of you in an instant, pulling your bra off of you and tossing it to land with the rest of your discarded clothes off the side of the bed.

His large hands immediately went to your breasts, admiring the soft, heavy feel of them in his hands while he palmed them, squeezing slightly as he felt you.

You mewled under his attention, eyes closed in delight as his touch only added fuel to the fire burning in your core. 

When he leaned down and took a pert nipple into his mouth, kissing and sucking on your tit, your hand found his hair as you gasped at the sensation, holding him to you, enjoying the feeling of his mouth on your breasts.

You could feel the wetness growing between your legs as he continued to have his fun, unconsciously rutting his thick cock against you when you’d moan for him.

As he traveled down your body, his hands following your curves and his lips kissing every inch of you that he could, he paid special attention to your tummy before he traveled even lower. 

You were a writhing mess as you felt his warm breath on your folds. When your hips bucked up into his face and you felt his lips brushing your cunt, you whined obscenely at the feeling. Bucky laughed tauntingly, holding your hips back down as he poked his tongue out past his plump lips, lightly licking your folds and your sensitive clit as you gripped his hair and urged him closer, wanting, needing more.

He finally took mercy on you after a long, torturous minute, spreading you open for him before he ate you out like a man starved. 

His tongue glided all over your slick cunt, dipping in and out of your tight entrance, before coming back up to flick your clit. 

He drew figure eights over the sensitive bud and you swore you were about to come undone from that alone, but when he sunk his thick digits into your dripping pussy, curling them just right, rubbing against that special spot perfectly, you were seeing stars as your thighs threatened to clamp around his head while you shook from your orgasm. Your walls clamped down on his fingers as you came and he moaned at the feeling as he worked you through the high, more than ready to finally get his cock inside you.

“Doll, you look so gorgeous like this,” he admired as he held himself above you, “naked and sweaty beneath me. Like a fucking goddess,” he praised, grabbing his erection and positioning himself at your entrance. 

“You sure you’re ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked, running his cockhead up and down your dripping slit. 

“Yes, Bucky, please,” you moaned pathetically, spreading your legs as wide as you could for him.

“Mm, I love the way you say my name, doll,” he groaned as he pushed just his tip inside your tight cunt, moving in and out of you as you whined for him.

“God, please, Bucky, please fuck me! I want it so bad,” you whimpered. “I wanna feel you fill me up, please.”

The growl that left his throat had your pussy fluttering, squeezing around nothing before he finally gave you what you wanted.  With one hard, deep stroke, he was fully seated inside you. Your eyes squeezed shut as you gasped sharply, your hands gripping onto him wherever you could as he began to set his pace. With every thrust of his hips into you, he was hitting deeper and deeper inside your cunt.

“Oh, fuck,” you cried.

“There you go, sweetheart. Take all ‘a my cock inside this tight pussy, taking me so fuckin’ well,” his hands were tight on your hips as he fucked into you. “This what you wanted, doll?” he panted, his pace never faltering as he fucked you harder, the slapping sound of skin on skin and his balls hitting your cunt with his every thrust filled the room, mingled with your moans and whimpers and his grunts and growls. “Wanted this big dick to stretch you out, huh? Wanted to feel me fill you up with my hot cum til I’m dripping outta you.”

One of his hands left your hip and instead went to grab at your breasts again, his large hand palming your tit as he squeezed and kneaded, flicking his thumb over your nipple and only adding to the pleasure threatening to send you over the edge.

“God, yes! Please, fucking yes, Bucky, please, please, please, please” you begged pathetically, reaching a hand down to find your clit, working your bud in circles as your walls tightened around his thick cock. 

Your eyes were about to roll into the back of your head as you moaned senselessly, Bucky’s hand leaving your chest and nudging your own away from your clit. He replaced your hand and circled your clit perfectly as he continued rolling his hips into yours, his pace growing more erratic and the words leaving his beautiful lips growing filthier the closer he got to his own end. 

With one perfectly angled thrust, you were crying as your body shook at the intensity of your orgasm. Wave after wave of nerve tingling pleasure lighting you up as you rode out the high. Your toes curled, legs wrapped around him as much as they could be while he grabbed at your body, falling down closer to you as he moaned, holding your body tighter as he pumped his hips, “Fuck,” he growled as he pushed himself as deep inside of you as he could, his eyes squeezing shut, holding himself there as he came, his body shaking some as he attempted to thrust once more. 

You moaned at the feeling of him painting your walls, your hands in his hair as he buried his face in your neck, holding him to you. He stayed inside of you for a long minute as you both panted, trying to catch your breath, while he ensured he got all of his load out before he finally pushed himself up off of you, gently sliding out of you.

He flipped over next to you, laying on his back before he pulled you into him. Your hand rested on his chest as you laid in his left arm.

“Holy fuck,” you breathed, your fingers playing in his chest hair mindlessly as you worked to catch your breath.

His hand was running up and down your side soothingly as he moved to try and meet your eye.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

“Yeah,” you assured him. “I’m better than okay, honestly. That was…amazing.”

“Good, I’m glad,” he smiled, “but still, I’m sorry if I got carried away. I tend to run my mouth when I’m, uh,” he fumbled with his words, “ya know, in the moment.” 

He looked so bashful, you couldn’t help but laugh lightly at his expression.

“You just said all of what you just said, but you had trouble with that?” you tittered, rubbing his chest before turning further into him, laying on your side as he stayed on his back, propping his right hand under his head as he relaxed into the position. “But really, Bucky, you don’t have to apologize. I don’t know if you could tell, but…I really liked it,” you simpered sensually.

Bucky smiled at you as you leaned up to meet his lips in a soft kiss. 

“It’s probably way late now, right?” you asked as you pulled away from him. “I should probably head back.”

Bucky sat up after you, “Do you have to?” he asked softly.

You looked back at him, his blue eyes set on you. You nipped at your lower lip before shaking your head lightly. A new, sweeter excitement washing over you.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but you could stay for the night,” he offered. “I was hoping I could take you for breakfast in the morning?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the hopeful look in Bucky’s eyes as he waited for your response. That giddiness you felt earlier came over you once again as you held his gaze.

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

[ssahotchnerr]

i rlly wanna see how aaron would react to reader accidentally starting her period and leaking on his white sheets. i just know he would be so caring and conforming !!

stains

he soooo would cw; fem!reader, period talk, blood mentions, language, fluff <33

Even on the weekends, Aaron doesn't tend to stray from routine.

Apart from setting an alarm - he presses a kiss to the first patch of your skin he can find, rolls out of bed, and then opens the blinds so the morning light can naturally assist in waking you. Trailing into the en-suite bathroom, he hears you let out a gentle squeak, stretching from your laid position in bed.

He preps his toothbrush, blinking once, twice, in attempt to rid the heavy sleep from his eyes. Brushing his teeth is number one on his morning agenda; not only because it was the hygienic thing to do, he simply could not stand having horrid breath.

Despite the brushing sounds echoing in his head, he doesn't miss your low,

"Shit."

"Honey?" His attempt to speak was muffled, as his toothbrush was in his mouth. He tilted back from the sink, just enough to allow him to peer into the room, to see you.

You were sat upright, a handful of sheets in hand, meeting his eyes guilt-stricken. "I'm sorry. It wasn't due for another three days and you know I'm typically always on schedule and always prepared-"

"Hm?" Freeing his mouth from the toothpaste, quickly flicking the water on/off to rid the residue and wiping his mouth with a washcloth, he re-entered his room.

As he came closer, your flushed cheeks were vividly noticeable, the remorse in your eyes even more intense. You clarified, "My period."

"Oh," his expression softened, before alternating to deep concern. "Are you alright?"

"Am I alright? Aaron your bed-"

"What about it?"

"It's stained - the sheets. Fuck," you scrambled up, not wanting to ruin them further, wincing in pain as you did so. You quickly padded past him to the bathroom, the plush carpet soft under your bare feet. He followed behind.

"And? Sweetheart if you think I care about that," he chuckled, sweetly shaking his head. "Do you have...?"

"In my bag."

Feminine products - Aaron redirected himself, finding your overnight duffle tossed hastily near the foot of his dresser. As he rummaged through it, he mentally cursed himself for not already having a supply waiting under his sink, and mentally added such to his future shopping list.

He grabbed the other necessities - an extra pair of underwear, t-shirt, opting to grab your favorite pair of shorts from his drawer. One he hadn't worn in quite a while as you had claimed sole ownership.

You sheepishly accepted the items from him, refraining from lifting your gaze. "Thank you."

"Hey," With a finger he lifted your chin, causing you to meet his soft, brown eyes. "It's okay."

You shook your head in shame, prompting his hand to fall.

"It's your body. It's natural. It's- this is not an inconvenience to me, it is for you. Plus, this is exactly what they invented stain remover for."

Despite yourself you laughed, wrapping your arms around your middle. "I suppose."

The ends of Aaron's lips itched upwards, successful in his goal to crack a smile. Although, his amusement sobered back to concern, "You never answered my question from before. Are you alright?"

You grimaced. "Crampy."

"Advil then?" Aaron asked and you nodded. He placed his hand on your lower abdomen soothingly, the warmth of it calming your tensed muscle. That was the thing about his touch, it never failed to relieve any aches or discomfort, physical and emotional. "And a bath? I recall you saying that helps, with easing the pain."

"Please."

He quickly obtained the pain reliever, started the bath. "Don't worry about the sheets, I'll strip and get 'em in the wash. Hand me your clothes too." He ran his hand under the stream of water, regulating the temperature as you immediately began to protest, claiming, 'it was your mess, your doing,' but Aaron kindly shut you down, "Nope. Let me handle it, I insist."

"And if the stain doesn't come out?"

"I've been meaning to dispose of them anyway. They're getting old, they've fulfilled their job well." After flashing you a sympathetic smile Aaron stood, his age vaguely showing when his knees cracked as his legs straightened. He placed a kiss on your forehead, hoping to dissolve your current, growing pout. "Just relax."

You willingly met his eyes this time. You tousled his hair, still disheveled from sleep, paying extra attention to the short hairs behind his ears. Your nails scratched at his scalp, expressing your gratitude silently.

"And if it makes you feel any better, this isn't the first time I've had to soak blood from linens."

"It doesn't," you rolled your eyes at his injury-prone occupation, but he did however manage to pull yet another smile from you. A gentle laugh came from deep within his chest at your response. "But thank you."

[wileys-russo]

alessia, “stop taking my sunglasses”, car

sunglasses II a.russo

"okay we have the picnic blanket, food, we're about to get coffees...what else do we need?" you listed off on your fingers as your girlfriend paused to think.

"mm nope! i think thats everything." the blonde hummed in agreement, grabbing her car keys and twirling them around on her finger.

"i think there is one thing we might be forgetting lessi." you prompted with a smile of amusement, your girlfriend frowning in confusion as she ticked it over in her head.

"oh my god wait the dog!" alessia realised, dropping her keys and turning on heel and sprinting off into the backyard where her brothers bulldog was taking a nap in the sun. "bella. walkies!" alessia grabbed her lead off the table and waved it happily.

"look baby she's just like you in the morning." you teased from the back door as bella merely rolled onto her back, showing her stomach to the sun expectantly awaiting a tummy rub.

"ha, ha, ha." alessia's voice dripped with sarcasm as she shot you a dirty look and you tossed her bella's collar. "come on bella! up we get!" alessia clapped encouragingly, patting her stomach and trying to roll her over.

you snickered in amusement as the bulldog made no move to aid her, alessia grunting with effort as she clicked the collar around bella's neck and still tried to roll her over onto her stomach.

"babe you could help!" the striker huffed as you snickered again, shooting you a glare as she heaved and tried to pull bella up to her feet. "bella. car time!" you whistled, alessia squealing and falling over as bella suddenly shot up and inside.

"aw do you want a tummy rub?" you teased as the striker huffed and held her hand out expecting you to help her up. "how do you whistle like that?" your girlfriend huffed as you grabbed her hand.

"family secret." you grinned, always having refused to teach her because you knew it wound her up. "alessia!" you yelped as with a firm yank to your hand you were pulled down to the ground, the blonde hovering over you.

"you're such a child!" you huffed, hitting her chest as she easily hopped up to her feet, sending you a wink and heading on inside. "oh don't help me or anything babe!" you huffed, standing up and brushing the dirt from your knees with an annoyed grumble.

"come on love we haven't got all day!" alessia sung out teasingly as you stepped inside, sliding and locking the back door closed, flipping her off as she clicked bella's harness on over her chest.

"luca gets back on wednesday yeah?" you asked for clarification as the striker hummed in confirmation. "can bella live here and you go back home with him instead?" you gasped sarcastically, washing your hands with a roll of your eyes.

"don't be grumpy! you'd miss me too much babe." alessia's arms snaked around your torso, tenderly kissing your cheek as you scoffed. "i'd miss your cooking maybe. you? not so much russo i'll take cuddles with the dog anyday!" you squeezed her face in your hand and wiggled out of her grip.

"excuse me!" alessia huffed grabbing her keys as you took bella's lead, tucking the picnic blanket under your arm. "you're excused." you shot back with a wink as your girlfriend grabbed the bag of snacks and rolled her eyes, closing the front door after herself.

"this is supposed to be our date day and you've spent the majority of it bullying me!" alessia protested as you clipped bella's harness into the ring holder on the backseat securing her into place.

"well you've spent the majority of our relationship bullying me, so it evens out!" you smiled, stealing a kiss before the striker could utter another protest, sliding into the passenger seat and closing the door.

you pulled open the console and plucked out a pair of sunglasses, settling them over your nose and clicking in your seatbelt as alessia's door opened and she sat down closing it after her.

sticking her key in the ignition she opened the console you'd just closed, frowning when she couldn't find the sunglasses that always sat inside. you were too preoccupied with your phone to notice as she glanced up to ask if you'd seen them.

"less!" you huffed as she snatched them off your face, settling them on her own and turning the key as her engine roared to life. "these are mine. my car, my sunglasses, my girlfriend, my brothers dog." the blonde smirked smacking your hand away as you tried to take them back.

"well someone woke up and forgot what sharing is! what happened to whats mine is yours?"

~

"babe please teach me how to whistle!" alessia whined as you did it yet again sending bella sprinting over toward you as you tossed her tennis ball and she raced off again.

"no! teach yourself." you smiled in amusement, squealing as your girlfriends hand smacked against your ass and she scowled at you, somewhat resembling a toddler having a tantrum.

"aw did someone not get her designated twelve hours of sleep?" you cooed teasingly, pinching her cheeks and pecking her lips, knowing how sacred her daily naps were to the footballer.

"i think you'll agree we both missed out on some sleep last night." alessia smirked suggestively as your cheeks flushed pink and you shoved her, the two of you sitting back down on the picnic blanket watching bella race around in circles.

"zoomies." you both chimed in unison, sharing a grin as the sun peeked back out from where it had hidden behind the clouds and you squinted, shielding your eyes with your hands.

waiting until she seemed off in her own little world daydreaming you leaned over and snatched the sunglasses off her face, rolling away from her when she tried to take them back.

"less baby its sunny! my eyes hurt!" you protested trying to fight her off and grunting as she flopped herself down on top of you. "stop taking my sunglasses. you should have brought your own!" your girlfriend laughed, easily pinning your arms down with one hand and plucking her sunglasses back with the other.

"i'll teach you how to whistle?" you bargained, alessia pausing to clearly think it over, letting go of your arms and sighing, offering you the sunglasses back as you happily sat up and took them.

"okay you form a little o with your lips, and blow!" you instructed, demonstrating as your girlfriend gave you an odd look. "i know how to whistle you idiot. teach me your whistle!" the blonde demanded as you shrugged.

"i said i would teach you how to whistle, not how to do my special whistle." "thats-but-no! show me!" "sorry baby, family secret."

"alessia!" you squealed as she tackled you back down onto the picnic blanket, hovering over you with a tut and a shake of her head. "what am i going to do with you hm?" the striker sighed, however before she could do anything a bundle of fur barreled right into the pair of you, knocking the wind out of her.

"good girl bella!" "you and that stupid whistle."

[hotluncheddie]

Written for the @steddie-spooktober day 29 and 31 prompt : sweater and trick or treat

rated: T | cw: none | tags: Eddie Munson is a tease, getting together, idiot 4 idiot

😳😳😳😳

Eddie finds the short sleeved sweater at the thrift store. It might be from the women’s or even children’s section for all he knows (with how Doris organises the store, it’s all mostly a free for all.) But it’s perfect, he knows that for sure. Hand knitted with a pumpkin on the front. It’s a little too small, a little cropped. Perfect.

It’s pushing 1am when he answers the trailer door to Steve. Leather jacket on, suspense making him giddy.

‘Trick or treat.’ Steve says holding up two six packs and a bag of chips, tape tucked under his arm. He looks half exhausted in his family video vest and little pained on fangs, faded fake blood trickling down his chin. The store stays open until midnight on Fridays and this Friday night happens to also be Halloween. Eddie had seen Steve there earlier when he’d been to rent something to watch at Jeff’s. The deep red plum of Steves v neck sweater made Eddie certain tonight was perfect for his plan. So he invited him to the trailer once the store had closed.

Eddie takes the beer and Steve slumps over to the couch, falling into it with a groan. ‘God, I don’t know how many more time I can explain age ratings to parents who should know better.’ He says, arm slung over his eyes. ‘Why’re you wearing your jacket?’ He asks.

Eddie puts the beer in the fridge. ‘Oh, got cold.’ He slips it off and tosses it over a chair. Bending to retrieve cans for each of them.

Steve coughs behind him. Eddie smirks, but manages to school his face before he turns around.

‘You bring it?’ He asks, handing Steve a beer and opening his own, leaning on one hip and taking a long drink.

Steve doesn’t say anything. Eddie looks down and raises his eyebrows. ‘Well?’

Steve snaps out of it, sitting up and clearing his throat. ‘Yeah, uh, here.’ He hands over the tape of Rosemary’s baby, opening his own beer. (It’s Eddie favourite, Steve’s never seen it.)

Eddie smiles as he takes it, feeling giddy again, maybe he should be a tease more often.

He takes the tape over to their new VCR, bought with the government payout, which was the least they could do, really.

He squats as he puts it in, knows that his lower back and underwear waistband are showing.

‘Eddie.’ Steve’s shaky voice calls to him. ‘What the fuck are you wearing man?’

He stands, turning to Steve and putting his hands on his hips, fingers digging into the exposed skin, slotting against his slight v of muscle. ‘It’s my festive sweater.’ He says, like it’s obvious.

‘But it’s, so. I can.’ Steve splutters, cheeks red and Eddie can’t believe his plan worked.

He stalks closer, pointing a finger at Steve, finally feeling like he’s won. ‘See, now you know how it feels Steve Harrington, you walk around in your little low cut sweaters, chest hair and cleavage all out and on display.’ Steve leans forward slightly, muscles shifting under his clothes, puppy dog eyes staring up at Eddie. ‘I mean you’re doing it right now, and it’s been driving me insane okay?!’ Eddie bursts, pent up energy finally getting released. ‘I had to fight fire with fire dude!’ Motioning defensively his own little patch of happy trail and crossing his arms.

Steve gapes up at him, at Eddie standing between his knees. ‘You’re so weird.’ He says and grabs Eddie’s hips, pulling him into his lap.

Eddie gasps, falling into Steve willingly.

‘You’re a trick and a treat Munson.’ Steve murmurs, bringing his hand to Eddie’s neck and pulling him down for a kiss.

😳😳😳😳

Tag list : @scoops-aboy86 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @pearynice @marvel-ous-m @thecatkingsthrone

@cheesedoctor @chickensinrainboots @chameleonhair @wheneverfeasible @hbyrde36

@bookworm0690

[queers-gambit]

Neon Sticky Notes

prompt: ( requested ) reminding your boyfriend you love him one sticky note at a time.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 2.4k+

note: baby gets what baby wants! God, do i hope this is what you want, my baby...

warnings: probably cursing, Carmy needs a nap, men being simps, this is short and sweet! it's FINALLY edited!!!

You knew he was struggling. Worn-out, beaten down, exhausted, run ragged, amuck, and into the ground.

It was evident in the way he carried himself; the prominent bags under his eyes, the way he tossed and turned in bed before being found on the living room couch in the morning. His hair seemed greasier then usual, his skin turning gaunt and grey, and you knew he wasn't making time to eat.

By comparison, you had a simple job, something corporate and in an office. Something that made decent money; something you were good at, something you could find pride in doing.

However, Carmy's job as a chef was different; being more than stressful, and while coupled together for years now, it was still a work-in-progress each time Carmen started on a new venture. Owning, running, and converting The Beef into something "better" should've been no different, only it was - it was totally different. Carmy was frazzled, looking deranged some evenings, as if operating on adrenaline, and you were at a loss on how to help.

So, you resorted to a natural instinct - communicating.

Carmy needed reassurance, he needed support, he needed to be loved for who he is, exactly how he was, in order to keep his head on straight. You never did mind the challenge that was Carmen Berzatto, finding him akin to a puzzle. So, on your way home from work one evening, you stopped at a CVS to grab a pack of neon, multi-colored sticky notes and a brand new Sharpie marker.

You had an idea.

When you got back to your shared apartment, you unloaded the groceries you needed onto the counters before calling Carmy. "Hey, Peaches," he answered on the third ring, usual kitchen clatter in the background, "everything okay?"

"Yeah, all good."

"Sure? Sound outta breath."

"The elevator's broken, I got groceries," you groaned, "and have been skipping the gym for a couple weeks."

He chuckled, "Never skip leg day, baby, you know it's our house motto."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever - hush. I'm just wondering if you had an ETA for tonight? I have an early morning meeting, so I want to go to sleep early."

"Uh," he trailed, a muffled ruffling sounding over the line before a small clatter that made him sigh, "yeah, um, you know what? I really don't know, baby, I'm sorry. You do your thing and I'll be quiet when I get in, just leave my stuff on the couch."

"No, come to bed," you whined slightly, "I miss you."

"Awh, yeah, miss you, too, Peach. I'll be there," he promised.

You finished putting all groceries away; the dishes following, then you got started on prepping dinner. Look, you were no cook - that was all Carmy. But you weren't totally useless in a kitchen, so, you didn't mind taking over most meals now that Carmy was waist-deep in The Beef's bullshit. You played music as you cooked, poured a glass of wine, danced around, and tried to think of a list of encouraging things to remind Carmy. You ate dinner alone, and when done with clean-up, faced off with your sticky notes and Sharpie.

The first note was scribbled and stuck on the covered plate in the fridge: Bone Apple Teeth, Chef!

Then you wrote a note to leave at the door where Carm was sure to drop his keys: make sure you eat the plate I left you!

Humming, you pondered a moment before smirking and writing a third note to be left on the TV remote: I know you too well. come to bed.

Lastly, you wrote a fourth and final note to be left in the bathroom: great job today, Chef! you're killing it!

You were fast asleep when he got home. He found the note in the key bowl, smirking at your kindness and thoughtfulness. Carmy saw the messily-drawn heart and pocketed the note, toeing off his shoes and entering the kitchen. He reheated the plate you left, pocketed the second note after a silent grin of amusement, and when ready, took his hot food to the couch.

Carmy laughed when he found your third note. He left it on the table as he ate, half-watching the news segment he flipped on. When he was full and his plate clear, Carmy turned the TB off, pocketed your note, set everything in the dishwasher, started it, and then went into the bathroom. Another soft chuckle emitted as he pulled the final note in his hand - and you already know he saved it.

When he got in your shared room, he made sure to leave the notes in a random shoe box, stashing it in his closet, changed for the night, and crawled into bed with you.

This was a regular occurrence now: Carmy came home late to a barrage of sticky notes, saved them all, then crashed in bed with you. You missed each other, but understood scheduling just didn't line up right now. It wasn't like you two never saw one another, you still did - but it wasn't like it was. Time together now felt fleeting, as if you had to savor everything, so you made the most of your situation.

Was it overcompensation? Possibly. But Carmy adored your notes.

Sometimes, you'll be sat in the living room, reading a book, working on your laptop, or scrolling Instagram on your phone, while he cooks and he finds a note left on the milk carton that reads: I am UDDERLY in love with you!

Get it? 'Cause cows have udders? You were pretty proud of that pun.

Other times, he'll be up at an unGodly hour, getting a steamy hot shower, and you'll come in to pee. He doesn't think anything of anything until he gets out of the stall only to see a neon orange sticky note on the counter, saying: i love your butt! lemme pinch it!

Carmy feels himself looking forward to your little surprises. Some were funny and a little vulgar, like the note found on the eggs: fertilize MY eggs!

Some notes were more innocent, like the one he found in his shoe one morning, reading: I'm so proud of you. have a great day today!

Some just said: be home for dinner @ 8! making your fav!

Others were found, saying: you're so fucking handsome. I'm one lucky ducky! You even tried to draw a little duck.

Some notes were motivational: you're doing a GREAT job, baby!

Some notes reminded: you have a dentist appt @ 10!

Some notes were sweet: call me during your break, cutie, i miss your voice!

And others found on the bathroom mirror were playful: you look too good today, go change! A second note added: don't need anyone looking at your fine ass! A third: i'm the only one allowed to look #respectfully

Each and every note had a drawn heart, being saved to a hidden shoebox. He found notes in his usual coffee mug, reminding him you loved him. He found notes on his toothpaste tube, telling him he was doing a great job. Cereal boxes now promised Carmy they were proud of him, pastas told him to have a great day, and the light switches assured reminded him how special he was.

The microwave told him you felt blessed to be his and in his jacket pocket, he was told how lucky you are to love him. Some notes swore to him he was one of a kind, others explicitly detailed what parts of him you wanted in parts of you, and a few reminded him of important dates, appointments, deadlines, anniversaries, birthdays, etc..

Sometimes, he found little treats with these sticky notes. Like when you had to make brownies for your little sister's bake sale, you left him a Tupperware full with a hot pink note, labeled: for the love of my life!

And then... One morning, when you got up for work, Carmy was already gone for his day. You went through your normal routine, entering the kitchen with the intention of making a to-go cup of coffee, only to pause and grin when a neon green sticky note greeted you from the stovetop. Written in messy, fresh, black Sharpie was: got you on my mind. love you, be home @ 6 tonight!

Carmy drew own heart and you beamed at the reciprocation. You didn't mind the distance for now, knowing he was busy and it wouldn't last forever; but the fact that he could reassure you as much as you could him warmed your heart. You felt like the Grinch when his heart grew in size, just without the painful grunting. If anything, you felt euphoric from his little note - thinking it was reassuring to still communicate even when your schedules differed.

The day passed sluggishly - only because you were actually excited to go home. Ironically, your last client of the day didn't leave until a little later than scheduled, so, when you FINALLY got off work and made it home, Carmy had beaten you. When you got through the door, you were met with a heavenly aroma; using Gandalf's advice and following your nose to enter the kitchen.

You sighed dreamily when you came to a halt in the doorway, bottom lip trapped between your teeth to attempt and restrain your ecstatic grin. Carmy was shirtless at the stove, stirring a pasta dish to coat it in the sauce of his choice. "Hi, pretty peach," he beamed at you.

"Oh, I've missed this sight," you squealed, rushing to his side to throw your arms around his neck. "Hi, baby, hi, baby, hi, baby," you chanted between chaste kisses to his cheek.

"Someone missed me," he laughed, cheeks blooming a bright red - but not from the kitchen heat.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in forever, and you know I don't do well alone, I need attention," you teased with a pout, his arm slithering around your waist - but a crinkle noise caught your attention. "Woah, hey. Did you get a new tattoo?" You pondered, looking down at his arm that was protectively bandaged.

He smirked and held his arm out, "Wanna take the plastic off for me?"

"What'd you get?"

"Find out," he whispered, staring at you with his intense baby blue eyes; waiting as you calculated your next move. Slowly, you reached out and unwrapped the protective cling wrap, getting to the gauze, then slowly peeling that from his skin.

"Ohhh, my fucking God," you whispered.

"Like it?"

"Are these... My hearts?"

He nodded, "I got 6 of them from your notes tattooed. 'Cause we've been together six years. Figured, each year, I could add one - but you gotta draw it."

"You're ridiculous," you laughed, in minor disbelief. "What made you do this?"

He eased, "You. I've never felt so confident in my life before, and I know you're a huge part of that. It feels right, being with you feels right and I wanted to show you that I see and appreciate all you do." His tone softened, "I wouldn't be me without you, Peach."

"You'd still be Carmy."

"A totally different Carmy, though," he chuckled. "I actually like who I am with you, baby. But look here, I know it's been real hectic lately, sweet girl, with the restaurant, but it's not gonna be like this forever. We're makin' progress, we're gonna get this settled."

"I know," you assured, "'cause if anyone's gonna get this done, it's you. Just don't forget to breathe every now and then - you're drowning in this stress and I need you to stay afloat, Carm."

"I'm good, Peaches, got you on my team so I can't lose," he eased, tucking you into his chest for an embrace. After a minute and a tight squeeze, he sighed, pecked the crown of your head, then mumbled, "Why don't you go wash up? Dinner's almost ready."

You agreed, stealing one last (prolonged) kiss before scampering off to the bedroom. When you got there, you almost tripped when you came to a halt; laughing loudly as the entire bed was covered in an array of neon colored sticky notes. Until you got closer and realized each note detailed a different reason Carmy loved you; from the way you search for him in your sleep to how you resembled a Gremlin if not fed within certain hours. From how you weren't afraid to dress up for the Renaissance Festival to how you throw blankets in the dryer for 15 minutes before movie nights. In fact, "movie night" was on a single note, being a fond yet routine date. You read each note carefully, tears wanting to build but you refused to let them, yet it was difficult when this was the sweetest gesture you've ever known.

Even things you were insecure about, like dimples or weight or hair color, was highlighted as a reason Carmy loved you. He listed your authenticity, generosity, thoughtfulness, charisma, incredible brain but even bigger heart. He praised your wit, your humor; adored your sneezes, and looked forward to coming home every night because he knew he was coming home to you.

You've never felt so loved before, wondering if this was what Carmy felt each time he found one of your notes.

Movement caught your peripheral, and when you looked up, Carmy was leaning in the doorway of the bedroom; arms crossed and lips pulled in a small smirk. He didn't speak, he just stared at you. You were at a loss for words, opening and closing your mouth twice; holding most of the sticky notes in your hands, but then, you settled on telling him simply, "I love you so fucking much, Carmy."

Dinner might've allegedly burned that night, but so did your love and passion for one another. Even the smallest of gestures can go farther than we anticipate, and showing someone you care could be as simple as leaving them notes around the apartment you cohabitate in, on neon colored Post It's.

Wanna know the cool thing about adult relationships? You get to love your partner out loud; being unapologetic in how you emote, and in return, you're loved by them. Each person deserves to be loved in the way they want to be loved - but you know how fucking great it is when two lovers respond to the same language? What I mean is, it could be considered rare that you, who liked to leave notes, would meet and fall in love with someone who liked to collect and read those notes. Your love language was the same as Carmy's, part of the reason you both worked so well together - but also why one day, he'd add plenty more hand drawn hearts to the collection on his forearm.

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

[hauntedhokage]

Megumi Fushiguro/Reader

kiss prompt: kisses shared under an umbrella from this list

word count: 310

You hadn’t been expecting the rain; but somehow Megumi always seemed to be prepared, pulling a small retractable umbrella from the tote bag he was carrying for you and opening it before letting you step outside the grocery store. It had been so beautiful when you left in the morning, the forecast had completely slipped your mind so you were surprised to have Megumi request that you wait for a moment before producing the yellow object before he takes your hand and continues as if it were nothing. 

“You knew it was going to rain?”

“No, I noticed the clouds getting darker as we left the mall so I got an umbrella to have just in case while you were looking at shoes before we went for groceries.” 

So, that’s where he disappeared off to. Which also explained the bright yellow color - Megumi wasn’t a bright color kind of guy, so this was definitely an impromptu decision.  Yellow was either the only option or he just grabbed the first one he saw to ensure that he was prepared to keep you dry on the short walk back to your apartment. 

“You’re so good to me, Megumi.” Your praise has him blushing, even though it was the most thoughtful gesture, he seems a bit uncomfortable at the recognition and looks away from you as you turn to face him fully under the umbrella. He leans in when you crook a finger at him, and you feel his face get hotter when you wrap your arms around his neck to kiss him under his new yellow umbrella. He only needs one hand to hold the umbrella and, despite his initial bashfulness, uses his free arm to wrap around your waist to pull you in closer. You might’ve been blocking the sidewalk, but that didn’t really matter to either of you right now. 

[theemporium]

SAW THE OCTOBER PROMPTS AND KNEW I HAD TO SUBMIT ONE IN

could i do 💰 with my fav boyfriend max verstappen who has just slowly creating a list of everything reader has looked at a little too long or talked about for a couple of minutes. It ranges from tiffany jewelry to chanel dresses to la perla lingerie to gucci perfume to louboutin red bottoms, he knows everything that the reader wants and just one day surprises reader with everything

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“What…the…fuck.”

Max stood in the middle of your living room—your once empty living room that was now flooded with boxes and bags everywhere you looked—with his hands on his hips and a proud look on his face. And he looked completely unashamed with the scene around him.

“Surprise!” He said it so simply like he had just placed a home cooked meal in front of you, or maybe ran a few errands for you that he knew were a hassle. He was acting like the designer brand labels littering the living room of your apartment were normal, like an everyday occurrence. Though, maybe for Max Verstappen, they were.

“You…what….huh?” You looked at him, confused and baffled and desperate for answers. “What is all this?”

“It’s for you,” he said as he picked up a random bag nearby and handed it towards you, the Chanel logo making you feel a little nauseous. “Though I think people usually call them gifts.”

“This is too much,” you breathed out, your head spinning at the idea of just how much he could have possibly spent on you. At the mere idea of how much money was technically sitting in your far-too-small living room. “This is way too much, Max. I can’t.”

His brows furrowed together. “Why not?”

Your eyes widened. “Is that really a question you’re asking?” 

“But it’s all stuff you want,” he pointed out to you. 

“You can’t possibly—” Except the boy cut you off as he reached into the Chanel bag he was still holding, taking out a shoe box. And before you could even say anything, he was opening it to show you a pair of black platform heels you remembered vaguely showing him a few weeks back. “Max.”

“You said you wanted them.” 

“I said I liked the look of them.”

“Same thing.”

It seemed like every possible object or item you had spent longer than three seconds staring at were currently sitting in your living room at that moment, and Max didn’t see an issue with it. And you knew you shouldn’t be mad at him. Even before everything changed between you and Max, you had made the deal to be the person he splurged on. You agreed to it. You accepted the terms.

But you thought things would change once your relationship changed, when it went from financially beneficial to an actual romance. You thought he knew he didn’t need to do any of this anymore.

“Max,” you started as you tried to step over a pile of boxes, your foot getting caught in the handle of a bag. But before you could stumble, he was reaching out to grab your arms. “Babe, you don’t have to do this.”

“You are making it seem like someone is making me do it against my will,” Max mused, a hint of amusement on his face as his arms wound around your waist.

“I’m your girlfriend, you don’t have to spend money on me like this,” you said to him, your hands interlocking behind his head. 

“It’s exactly why I should,” Max scoffed. “You’re my girl. Mine to take care of and spoil and keep happy.” 

“Max—”

“Stop saying my name like that, you sound like a school teacher scolding me,” he groaned as he rested his head against your shoulder. Though, something in his chest tightened when he heard you laugh. 

“It’s just a lot,” you admitted in a whisper. 

“It’s everything you deserve and everything I want to give you,” Max retorted before he slowly lifted his head, his nose brushing against yours. “I’ll calm down but don’t make me give any of it back.”

You sighed, smiling. “Fine.”

“Good, because I don’t know where the receipts are and I’m pretty sure half of it wouldn’t even fit in my car.” 

His grin widened as your laugh bounced off the walls of your far-too-small living room.

.

[scorchieart]

Characters: Gilbert von Obsidian x F!Reader

POV: 1st person Genre: Slice of Life

Prompt #4: “I'd agree with you, but then we'd both be lying.”

Wordcount: 999

A/N: I did it, you guys! Thank you Mary Ellen for the request and the vote of confidence, and pretty much laying the groundwork for this entire fic, it could not have been done without you. And thank you to everyone else who believed I could write Gilbert, this one goes out to you all!

I missed the little rabbit the moment I sent her away. Each day in her absence was like blindly wading through the thickest bog, pushing and pulling with no end in sight, as though the sun had forgotten to dawn. I missed the way she happily hopped into my sights like a footloose bunny, spun poetry from the even most mundane of topics like a morning dove, and warmed my skin as heartily as a babe seeking her mother’s embrace. 

All these things and more I wanted to convey upon her return, to tell her of the heartache that flowed through my veins as organically as my own blood, both sustaining and rotting me from the inside out, but one look at her glittering smile dissolved those woes quicker than any antidote, and we were back to our daily routine.

My little bunny and I, side-by-side. Nothing in between.

“Won’t you at least try one of Prince Yves’s danishes? He prepared four entire batches before agreeing to let me bring some back for you.”

Her words were sincere and earnest, and I could tell she truly had my best interest at heart as she carefully arranged three pastel pastries from a rose-draped basket onto a plate. A gentle breeze whistled through the gazebo where we sat, and though our shoulders were flush against each other, the sweets she carried seemed to separate us once again, like a border between winter and spring.

“I’d much rather have one of your famous double-chocolate dipped cookies instead,” I said, lightly pushing the plate back onto the table with the hilt of my cane. “Or a dozen.”

She frowned and picked the plate up again. “But I can make those for you any day. These were prepared only just this morning, and I went through a great deal making sure they stayed level on the journey. The meringue in the batter will deflate if we wait any longer.”

“And that is precisely what I want,” I said. Though we have known each other for quite some time now, I still wondered whether she could pick up on all my cues. Visual ones she mastered instantly, as did most who met me, like when I tap my cane on the ground to grab attention or tilt my head to emphasize a point. But she still needed to work on subtext, because while I meant my comment to be endearing and praiseworthy of her talents, she responded by turning the other cheek and letting out a snide “Humph!”

I truly enjoyed this playful side of her. It assured me that what I believed in was shared by another soul; that one was never too old to cling to childish habits. But what I wanted more than anything now was a return to our normal relationship, back to when the sun dawned brightly on my days like I heard it does in Rhodolite.

“Have I gone and upset my little rabbit? This simply will not do, especially in the midst of my terrain,” I said, a playful rumble gurgling in my belly as I pronounced each word. “Of course, the ill-manners of a beast left alone to prowl in his big empty castle are expected upon the first meeting of his beloved bunny after ages of crippling solitude, yes?”

She turned to face me, and in an instant I knew she had fallen yet again for my renowned duplicity, innocent as I was today.

“It wasn’t exactly ages,” she began, her face clouding with guilt. “But… I guess I have been gone longer than usual this time. I thought bringing the sweets would cheer you up, but is there any other way I could make it up to you? Besides the cookies, I mean.” She added, and the rumble in my belly released in a low chuckle.

“I have several ideas,” I said, the childlike sensation surging inside me. I raised my hand between us, palm facing upward. A few moments passed as she stared blankly at it before she caved.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” she asked, poking my hand with her forefinger.

“Well, that’s your mission now, isn’t it?” I said, stretching my cheeks in a wide grin. “There are many answers to this riddle, but only picking the best will absolve you of your misdeed.”

“And if I don’t pick the best answer?” she said.

I tilted my head and her eyes went wide. Yes, I do believe she has my visual cues down pat.

“You’re just bluffing, aren’t you?” she stammered. “Come on, it’s not like me staying away for that long was so bad. It’s not that big of a deal, right? Right?”

“Hmm. I’d agree with you, but then we’d both be lying,” I said. Of course, I was only playing this up for my own amusement, but seeing her urgently wanting to keep in my good favor gave a certain rebelliousness I could only find enjoyment with in her, my little bunny. I lightly shook my hand. “Tick tock.”

She lowered the plate and frantically looked around the gazebo, eyes darting to the table and the exit and our seat and the flora surrounding us. It was a little difficult concealing my excitement; she wouldn’t find what she was looking for around us. I could have sprung up this game in the middle of a wasteland and it would make no difference. 

Her eyes finally shut in concentration, and I took in the subtle beauty of her musings. It was like looking through a mirror of my time when she was away. Lost in thought, with no lifeline to cling to.

But in an instant, her eyes shot open and she beamed. Before I could react, she seized my upturned hand in both of hers and lunged at me, burying her face in my chest, my once-nippy fingers held captive in the compressed space between us. Touching. Nothing in between.

“Did I get it right?”

At least I can say I was able to write him before canon complicity shunted him from my grasp for the next year.

Tagging: @atelieredux @queengiuliettafirstlady @violettduchess @venulus @thewitchofbooks @leonscape @rhodolitesrose @venti-tangents @dear-sciaphilia @ikesenwritings @myonlyjknight @gilbertvonobsidian

If you would like to be added or removed from my tag list, please send me an ask or a message.

[be4chywritez]

Plzzz tell me we are getting a part 2 of you had me at hello

You ask and you'll receive.

had me at hello ll | oscar piastri

oscar piastri x perez!reader

oscar and you are dating but when dating someone with such a high profile scrutiny is unavoidable.

my masterlist!

part l

request are open!

prompt list

You checked your phone nervously, glancing around the corner of the dimly lit café. It was your first real date, away from the prying eyes of the paddock and the ever-watchful media. You smiled as you saw Oscar approaching, his usual quiet demeanor replaced with a boyish grin.

Oscar slid into the seat across from you, his eyes sparkling. “This place is perfect,” he said, looking around at the cozy décor. “How did you find it?”

“An actress never tells her secrets.” You teased, winking. “But seriously, I thought we could use a break from all the chaos.”

You ordered drinks and settled into an easy conversation, talking about everything from your favorite movies to the challenges you and Oscar have faced in your careers. The more they talked, the more You realized how much you enjoyed Oscar’s company. He was kind, attentive, and surprisingly funny.

Midway through your conversation, Oscar reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “I have to tell you something,” he began, his cheeks tinged with pink.

“What is it?” You asked, intrigued by his sudden seriousness.

Oscar took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours. “I absolutely love your accent. The way you speak… it’s beautiful. I could listen to you talk all day.”

You felt a warm blush spread across your cheeks. “Thank you, Oscar. That’s really sweet. I guess I never really thought about it.”

Oscar smiled, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. “It’s just… it’s a part of you. And I like everything about you, even the way you say my name.”

You squeezed his hand, feeling your heart race. “You’re making me blush, Oscar.”

You finished their drinks and decided to take a walk along the quiet streets. The night air was cool, and You shivered slightly. Without a word, Oscar draped his jacket over your shoulders, his hand lingering on your arm.

Y/n looked at him through your lashes, taking hold of his hand, gently giving him enough time to pull away, but he didn’t. He brought their interlinked hands to his lips, kissing the back of your hand.

A warm, fuzzy feeling spread through you as you felt the gentle pressure of his lips on your skin. It was such a simple gesture, yet it carried so much meaning. You squeezed his hand, your fingers intertwining perfectly.

As they walked, the city lights casting a soft glow around them, Oscar suddenly stopped.

“Y/n, can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” you replied, looking up at him.

“What happens if this gets out?” he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern. "I don't want to cause something with your brother," He swallows watching you with careful eyes.

You took a deep breath, considering his words. “We’ll deal with it together,” you said firmly. “I don’t know what Checo could do, but I do know that I want to be with you.”

Oscar smiled, relief was evident in his eyes. “I want that too.”

Oscar let out a huff. "So, you're my girlfriend?" he asked, swinging your hands. You looked over at him, "Looks like it."

You continued your walk, eventually reaching the front of your hotel room. Standing there, basking in each other's warmth, he opened his mouth to say something, "I'm sorry, I have to," he said, grabbing the side of your face and bringing you in for a kiss. It was soft and gentle, your hands gripping his wrist.

You both pulled away, lips swollen. "Good night, Oscar," you smiled, ducking into the room.

You quietly entered the hotel suite, as you settled your bag down you heard knock on your door, using your code knock like when you guys were little.

letting him in he takes a seat on the loveseat.

He took in your flushed cheeks, your swollen lips, and the way your pupils were slightly dilated.

"¿Dónde has estado?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Where have you been?

“Just out,” you reply nonchalantly, trying to hide your smile.

Checo notices and sits up straight."¿Con Oscar verdad?"

With Oscar right?

You sigh, knowing you can’t hide it. “Yes, with Oscar.”

Checo frowns. “estoy preocupado por ti. Todo esto con Oscar… es complicado. Ustedes tienen carreras exigentes y los medios son implacables. Simplemente no quiero que te lastimes.”

I'm worried about you. All this with Oscar… it's complicated. You have demanding careers and the media is unforgiving. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.

You sit down next to him, your excitement from the date now mixed with concern. “I understand why you’re worried, Checo. But Oscar makes me happy. And I think we can handle it.” You rest your head on his shoulder.

Checo looks at you, his expression softening. “Simplemente no quiero verte lastimado. Si él te hace feliz, eso es todo lo que importa. Pero prométeme que tendrás cuidado."

I just don't want to see you hurt. If he makes you happy, that's all that matters. But promise me you'll be careful.

You nod, hugging him. "Te lo prometo. Y gracias por preocuparte tanto."

I promise you. And thank you for caring so much.

"Solo recuerda, siempre estaré aquí para ti, pase lo que pase." he told you.

Just remember, I will always be here for you, no matter what.

you let him out of your room, then collapsing onto the bed with a hazy expression on your face. Your mind races with a whirlwind of emotions, from guilt to excitement to fear of the consequences.

Later that night, you can't stop thinking about Oscar. The day's excitement has only heightened your feelings for him, and you find yourself wanting to be close to him again. You text him, and within minutes, there's a soft knock on your door.

You open it to find Oscar standing there, a shy smile on his face. "Hey," he says softly.

"Hey," you reply, stepping aside to let him in. "I just... I wanted to see you."

He closes the door behind him, his eyes never leaving yours. "I wanted to see you too," he says, his voice a low murmur.

Without another word, he reaches out, his hand gently cupping your face. You lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. He leans in, his breath mingling with yours, and then his lips are on yours, soft and gentle.

You melt into the kiss, your hands gripping his wrists as you lose yourself in the moment. The kiss deepens, and you feel the world around you fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble. He walks towards the couch, sitting down, and you straddle him, your hands making their way to the hair at the base of his neck. You tug slightly, making him let out a quiet groan.

The sound sends a shiver down your spine, and you press closer to him, feeling his hands move to your waist. The intensity of the moment builds, your heart pounding in your chest as you lose yourself in his touch and the heat between you.

Just as things are starting to heat up, you hear a soft knock on your door. Both of you freeze, pulling away from each other reluctantly. Your heart pounds in your chest as you try to compose yourself.

"Y/n, are you okay?" It's Checo's voice, filled with concern.

You glance at Oscar, who looks equally startled. Taking a deep breath, you call out, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a minute."

You quickly straighten your clothes and smooth your hair before opening the door. Checo stands there, his expression a mix of worry and curiosity.

"What's going on?" he asks, his eyes darting between you and Oscar, who is now standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

"Nothing, we were just talking," you say, trying to sound casual.

Checo raises an eyebrow but doesn't press the issue. "Alright, just wanted to make sure you're okay. It's late, try to get some sleep."

You nod, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. "I will, thanks, Checo."

As Checo turns to leave, you close the door and lean against it, your heart still racing. Oscar steps closer, his hand finding yours.

"That was close," he whispers, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Too close," you agree, squeezing his hand. "Maybe we should call it a night."

Oscar nods, leaning in to give you one last, lingering kiss. "Good night, Y/n. See you tomorrow."

"Good night, Oscar," you whisper back, watching him quietly leave the room.

With your heart still pounding, you crawl into bed, laying there your fingers dance around your lips, they feel swollen, and you sigh trying to fall asleep, for now, you let the warmth of his kiss linger as you drift off to sleep.

-

You and Oscar have been dating for a while now, you attend races as much as you could, switching up which team you would support.

Checo has accepted that you and Oscar are together, and he's happy to see his little sister happy.

The morning sun filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You stretch languidly, the memory of last night bringing a smile to your face. The clock reads 8:30 AM, giving you plenty of time to get ready for your day with Oscar.

You slip out of bed and head to the bathroom, the cool tiles underfoot helping to shake off any lingering sleepiness. As you go through your morning routine, your thoughts drift to Oscar, and a giddy excitement bubbles up inside you.

Once you're dressed in your carefully chosen outfit you admire yourself in the mirror.

Your phone buzzes, pulling you out of your reverie. It's a text from Oscar

Morning! Ready to go?

Yeah meet me in the lobby in 10?

Perfect see you soon 😊

Feeling a rush of excitment, you grab your things and head down to the lobby. As you wait, you check your reflection one last time in the lobby mirror, adjusting your hair and making sure everything is perfect.

Just as you finish, you hear a familiar voice behind you. "Y/n?"

You turn to see Checo walking towards you, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you doing down here so early?"

Your heart skips a beat, but you quickly compose yourself. "Oh, just meeting Oscar."

Checo chuckles, "You sure do love him."

Just then, the elevator doors open, and Oscar steps out, looking slightly flustered but undeniably handsome. His eyes light up when he sees you, and he quickly makes his way over.

"Good morning," he says, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

"Good morning," you reply, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

Checo watches the exchange with a neutral expression, but you can sense his protective instincts kicking in.

"Ready to go?" Oscar asks, offering his hand.

You take it, feeling a surge of happiness. "Absolutely."

Checo clears his throat, drawing both of your attention. "Oscar," he starts, his tone serious, "Look out for her."

Oscar nods, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "I will."

Satisfied, Checo steps back, giving you both a nod. "Alright, you two. Have a good day."

You and Oscar head out of the hotel, hand in hand. The drive to the paddock is filled with easy conversation and laughter. Oscar seems more relaxed than ever, and you can't help but feel the same.

When he parks, he doesn't get out immediately he looks over at you, he runs his thumb against the back of your hand, "you look beautiful." he says.

You blush, thanking him, he get out of the car, opening your car door helping you out, he grabs your had walking towards the etrance of the circuit.

Fans push against the barricade trying to get Oscar to sign things, he slows down you let go of his hand to let him sign things for fans, you stand next to him, a fan greets you, you greet back, "y/n you look so cute today," you smile at the fan thanking her.

Oscar peers at you, "she always looks cute," he says handing back a cap to a fan, fans around you "Aw" and you giggle, Oscar bids them goodbye walking towards the garage.

The race went great for your brother, but for your boyfriend not so much, P16 wasn't a nice look, he walked toward the garage, his head hung low, and mechanics and engineers pat his back, you walk towards him taking his helmet that clutched he wrapped around your waist burying his nose into your shoulder.

you let him sit there, rubbing his back comfortably, he lets go, pecking your lips, and going to his drivers room.

That night Oscar layed down his head against your chest, an episode of Criminal Minds played in the background, you can hear him mutter something at the TV when the Team missed a clue.

Your phone vibrates, it is an email from your agent, she attached a letter from Sony, it read.

Dear Y/n, you got the part! You were amazing, the scripts are attached to this, and we can't wait to brainstorm with you, here is a rough draft schedule for filming.

Kindly, Tony Vinciquerra

You blink at the schedule before processing anymore Oscar sits up, "We should order ice cream." he says slipping out of bed, he grabs the phone calling room service.

You stare at Oscar, and when he notices he gives you a wink, you look down at the email, you turn off your phone facing Oscar promising you'll tell him tomorrow

-

You found Oscar sitting in the jacuzzi on the balcony of your room, his head leaned back, his eyes closed, and his mouth slightly ajar. His eyes opened as you approached, his face lighting up with a smile that quickly faded when he saw the worry in your eyes.

“Hey,” he said softly, watching you as you sat on the ledge of the jacuzzi, the ends of your thin nightgown getting wet.

“Hey,” you replied, “We need to talk.”

Oscar nodded, taking your hand in his.

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. “I got an offer for a film role. It’s a big opportunity, but it’s in Barbados. I’d have to be away for three months.”

Oscar’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, his expression serious. “That’s amazing, Y/n. You’ve worked so hard for this.”

“But it means we’d be apart,” you said, your voice trembling. “And you know long distance doesn't work.”

Oscar cupped your cheek with his free hand, looking into your eyes. “We’ll make it work. I won’t lie, it’s going to be tough, but we’ll figure it out. I believe in us.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, quickly brushing it away. “I believe in us too. But I’m scared, Oscar. Scared of losing you, of what people will say…”

Oscar pulled you into a tight hug, not caring if your nightgown got wet, his voice gentle but firm. “You have to go, and I’ll support you every step of the way. We’ll find a way to make it work, no matter what.”

Feeling the warmth of his embrace, you leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. It started softly, but soon it deepened, fueled by the intensity of emotions. Your hands found their way to his cheeks, holding him close as you poured all your love and longing into the kiss.

-

The following week, Checo and Oscar stood before you. You wore sunglasses to conceal any signs of tears.

Oscar stepped away, allowing you and your brother a moment together. "Vas a estar bien, te estaremos esperando, no te preocupes," he assured you, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug.

You're going to be fine, we'll be waiting for you, don't worry.

Planting a tender kiss on your forehead, he signaled to Oscar, who approached. After placing your glasses atop your head, Oscar gently wiped away a stray tear. "I love you," he murmured, brushing his lips against your cheeks before landing a soft kiss on your lips. You reciprocated, whispering, "I love you, Oscar," as he smiled warmly. "I love you more," he replied.

As Checo returned to your side, your gate was called. Grabbing your bag, you walked away from them. Checo patted Oscar on the back reassuringly. "She'll be okay."

-

You sat in your trailer, staring at the script in front of you. You had just finished another exhausting day of filming, and your body ached for rest. Your phone buzzed with a message from Oscar, asking how your day had been. You smiled at his thoughtfulness, but a pang of guilt hit you for not being able to respond immediately.

Later that evening, You found a quiet moment to call Oscar. “Hey,” you said softly, leaning back against the couch.

“Hey,” Oscar replied, his voice filled with warmth. “How was your day?”

“Long,” you admitted, sighing. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Oscar said, his tone sincere. “But I have some good news. I’ve been doing really well in the simulations. The team thinks I might have a good shot at the podium this weekend.”

Your heart swelled with pride. “That’s amazing, Oscar! I knew you could do it.”

“But there’s something else,” Oscar continued, his voice growing serious. “The team wants me to stay focused. They’re worried that our relationship might be a distraction.”

Your heart sank. “What do you mean?”

“They think we’re spending too much time together,” Oscar explained. “They want me to cut back on our calls, at least until the season ends.”

You felt a knot forming in your stomach. “Oscar, I don’t want to be a distraction. I want to support you.”

“I know,” Oscar said gently. “And you do. But I have to prove to them that I can stay focused."

You took a deep breath, trying to hold back tears. “Okay. We’ll make it work. I believe in you, Oscar.”

Oscar’s voice softened. “Thank you, Y/n. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, ending the call and staring at your phone, you sigh running a hand through your face.

before dwelling on your thoughts too much, your assistant called you out to film some promotional videos.

-

Later that week, You found yourself on a film set in a picturesque but remote location. The long hours and demanding schedule left little time for anything else. You missed Oscar terribly, your brief texts and calls never feeling like enough.

It also didn't help that he was traveling around the world.

One night, after an exhausting shoot, you returned to your trailer to find a bouquet of flowers and a note from Oscar: "Thinking of you. We’ll make it through this. Love, Oscar."

Tears welled up in your eyes as she read the note. You called him immediately, needing to hear his voice.

"Hey," he answered, sounding equally tired but happy to hear from you.

"Hey," you said, you voice breaking. "Thank you for the flowers. I miss you so much."

"I miss you too," Oscar replied. "But remember what we talked about? We’re in this together. No matter what."

You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of reassurance washed over you. "I know. And I’m here for you too, Oscar. We’ll get through this."

You and Oscar stayed on the phone for hours that night, until you fell asleep.

-

Your co-star bangs on your trailer door you jump up from your spot, quickly opening the door to be greeted by him. "Y/n, stop being so boring. The crew and I are gonna go get a bite. Wanna come?" he asks.

You consider for a moment, then reply, "Yeah, I'll go."

You sit at the pizza parlor with the crew, enjoying the sweet Barbados air as it tickles your face. It takes your mind off Oscar, though you feel slightly guilty for not thinking about him. But it feels good to relax.

Your co-star leans towards you. "So, how's your Australian?" he asks. You smile at the thought of Oscar, reaching for your phone and opening up your photos. You slide through them, showing pictures of your boyfriend. What you don't notice is the flashing camera of the paparazzi. All they capture is you and your co-star sitting closely as you smile at him.

If you felt a strain in your relationship before you felt it now.

The tension reaches a boiling point when a rumor spreads that you were seen with a co-star, leading to speculation about your loyalty to Oscar. The headlines scream: "Trouble in Paradise for Y/n and Oscar?"

Oscar sees the news and feels his insecurities flare up. That evening, he calls you, unable to hide the hurt in his voice.

"Is it true?" he asks, skipping the usual pleasantries.

"Is what true?" you reply, confused.

"That you’re getting close to your co-star? The media is having a field day with it," Oscar says, his voice tight.

Your heart sinks. "Oscar, no. It’s just a rumor. You know how the media is. Please, don’t let them get to you."

Oscar's tone remains skeptical. "How can I be sure, Y/n? These pictures don't lie."

You feel a pang of hurt. "Oscar, please believe me. I would never hurt you like that."

There's a tense silence on the other end of the line before Oscar speaks again, his voice strained. "I need some time to think. I'll talk to you later."

The line goes dead, leaving you feeling shaken. As you hang up the phone, a sense of dread settles over you, wondering if your love for each other will be enough to overcome the doubts and rumors swirling around you.

-

@willowpains @ilovefictionalm3n

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

500 Followers = 500 Words Event: Seonghwa

Cravings

-> Pairing: Husband!Park Seonghwa x Pregnant!Reader -> Requested by: @treehouse-mouse -> Prompt:  Prompt 17: pregnancy cravings -> Warnings: mentions of pregnancy. protective Seonghwa. a little teasing (not in the kinky way) -> Word Count: 516 -> Request: Closed.

500 followers = 500 words Masterlist | Main Masterlist

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. reblog instead

Feeling restless and not wanting to disturb her husband’s sleep, Y/N quietly slips out of bed, making every effort to not wake Seonghwa up. Feeling the chill in the air, she finds one of Seonghwa’s oversized hoodies and pulls it on before she makes her way into the kitchen being pretty sure that it’s her light night pregnancy cravings keeping her awake. 

As she switches the light on, her stomach rumbles loudly. She searches the cupboards and fridge for something to eat but finds nothing that will satisfy the growing human inside her. Grabbing her phone, she browses through food delivery apps, but still, she can’t find anything she wants.  

Instead, she takes her handbag off the hook it’s on and checks inside making sure her wallet is in there before tossing her keys inside with it. She quickly pulls on her coat without changing out of her comfy pajama pants.  

Just as she reaches for the door, Seonghwa's voice startles her. “Where are you going?” 

“I’m hungry,” she replies, turning to look at him. “And your son is being really picky right now,” she adds, resting a hand on her baby bump, which is barely concealed by his oversized hoodie. 

“You shouldn’t be out this late, especially not alone,” he said, his voice softening as he moves to the entrance of their home and reaches for his coat. 

“I’ll be quick, I promise,” She tries to assure him that she’ll be okay. 

Putting his coat on, he shakes his head. “Write a list of what you feel like and I’ll go get it for you.” 

“But I don’t know what I feel like,” she pouts and rubs circles on her belly. “Like I said, he’s being picky.” 

“I’ll go with you then,” he says. There's no way he's allowing her to go out this late at night on her own, pregnant and craving or not.   

“Seonghwa, it’s really not necessary. I know you need the sleep,” she tells him.  

“I’d rather be there with you, making sure you’re safe. Plus, it’ll be fun! We can make a little adventure out of it,” he says, more awake now. 

She can’t help but smile at him as he helps her put her shoes on before putting his own on. "Alright, if you insist," she finally relented.  

He smiles in triumph and takes her hand bag, putting it over his shoulder before opening the front door. 

As they step outside, the cool night air hits them, causing them both to shiver and tighten their coats around them. As they begin their walk, the streetlights cast a soft glow, lighting their way to the 24-hour convenience store just up the road.  

"You really think a trip to the convenience store can be an adventure?" Y/N teases thinking back to what he said, her voice light and playful as she slips her hand inside his. 

“Why can’t it be?” he asks. “If you think about it, with your weird cravings who knows what will happen?” His eyes sparkle with mischief, and she can’t help but laugh, playfully hitting his arm. 

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@forever-atiny -

[russo-woso]

Waters || Leah Williamson x reader

Masterlist | prompt list

Part of the Mini Williamson universe

Warning childbirth, lots of fluff

Summary the chaos and memories created by the birth of baby #2

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The air was hot as you walked waddled to the kitchen.

Leah was out shopping with Amelia, grabbing a few last minute things before the baby came.

Leah, being the most protective person ever, didn’t what to leave you alone so far into your pregnancy, so she rang Alessia to come and look after you whilst she went shopping.

“What are you doing? You shouldn’t be walking.” Alessia shouted through to you from the lounge as you reached down to the freezer to grab ice cream.

“Less, chill, I’m just grabbing some ice cream.” You told her as you walked back with a spoon and a tub of ice cream.

“No I won’t chill. Leah put me in charge of looking after you and I don’t like Leah being angry at me.” Alessia explained and you rolled your eyes. “Here, drink. Don’t want you or little miss getting dehydrated.” Alessia passed you a bottle of water, watching you drink some.

“I know Leah put you in charge of watching me, but that doesn’t mean you have to get me to drink and sit still all day.” You said

“Are you sure? Because if I read the message from Leah, it says ‘make sure she doesn’t move and give her lots of water, don’t want her or bubba getting dehydrated.’” Alessia replied back and you shook your head.

“Of course she did.” You muttered. “Less, help me up please. I need to go to the toilet.”

Alessia got up immediately, helping you to your feet.

As you were approaching the bathroom, a gush of water was heard before you felt a puddle at your feet.

“Alessia.” You called hesitantly before footsteps were heard suddenly.

“What? What’s wrong? Is everything okay? Did you piss yourself?” Alessia questioned, on the verge of laughing at the last question.

“I’ve still got some control of my bladder thank you. But this on the floor is not wee. I think it was my waters breaking.” You tell her as panic spreads on her face.

“Your waters broke? Oh my god. What do I do? Do you want me to call Leah? Do we go to the hospital?” Alessia ran around, grabbing her phone and immediately going to ring Leah.

“Woah, less, calm down. I’ll go upstairs and change and I’ll also call Leah. You go and put the bag in the car, okay? Make sure you breathe as well because I’d like to see my baby girl meet her auntie lessi.” You joke and she nodded, taking a deep breath in.

She helped you up the stairs before walking you to the bedroom.

You sat on the edge of the bed as you heard the footsteps of Alessia running downstairs.

You rested a hand on your bump as a contraction hit, the realisation that you’d meet your second baby girl soon settling in.

You picked up your phone, pressing the phone button next to Leah’s name.

“Hey, baby, everything okay?” Leah questioned over the phone.

“My waters broke, le. I’m just getting changed and then less is going to—” You began but was cut off by a panicked Leah.

“Your waters broke? I’ll be right there, baby. Don’t hang up. Ami, we have to go. Stay on the phone with me.” Leah told you, worry clearly evident in her voice.

“I’m not dying, Le.” You laughed slightly but stopped once another contraction hit.

“Yeah, but you’re having our baby so I have the right to worry. Look, I’m in the car now so we’ll be five minutes, I promise. I’ll see you soon, okay, pretty girl?”

Leah stuck to her promise, her and Amelia running through the door just four minutes later.

“You okay, baby? How bad is it?” Leah asked, immediately wrapping her arms around you and pulling you in for a hug.

“It’s not me you should be worrying about.” You said, pointing to the sweating, out of breath Alessia who stood doubled over trying to catch her breath.

“What’s wrong with her?” Leah whispered

“I think she’s just a bit panicked.” You responded, a smile on your face at the concern Alessia had for you.

“Less, is it okay if you look after Amelia?” Leah questioned as Alessia nodded.

You said your goodbyes to Ami, telling her to be a good girl for auntie lessi.

“Come on then, it’s baby time.” Leah grinned, linking her arm with yours as she guided you to the car.

—

“It hurts so bad.” You complained, bouncing up and down on the yoga ball, sweat dripping down your forehead as you held onto Leah’s hand.

You’d been at the hospital for four hours now, and although progress had been made and your baby girl was closer to being welcomed into the world, you still had a while to go.

“I know, love, you’re doing so well. Nearly there. Not long now.”

Leah, although being a nervous wreck inside, was doing such a good job at being calm and helping you.

If you needed something, she’d be there to do it.

If you needed her hand to hold onto whilst you got through a contraction, her hand was held out in an instant.

If you needed your back massaging, she’d be doing it before you could even open your mouth.

“You’re doing so so well.” Leah repeated, pressing continuous kisses on your forehead.

—

Shortly after your eighth hour at the hospital, the time had come where you were told that you could start pushing.

Leah stayed by your side the entire time, holding your hand.

You squeezed the living daylights out of it as you pushed, too focused on getting a baby out of you to notice.

“So close, baby.” Leah mumbled against your forehead before pressing a kiss there. “I can see her, love. She’s so close.”

The moment you heard them cries, your heart melted.

They sounded like music to yours and Leah’s ears.

Your baby girl was pressed onto your chest.

You looked up at Leah to see her eyes filled with tears.

“You did it.” Leah whispered, looking at the newest Williamson.

“Mum, would you like to cut the chord?” The nurse asked Leah, who nodded immediately.

You watched as Leah cut the chord, the tears in Leah’s eyes finally spilling.

“She’s perfect.” You said, staring in awe at your daughter.

“She is.”

The nurses took your baby girl away, checking her over before swaddling her in a blanket.

“Would you like to take her over?” The nurse asked Leah, as Leah nodded, wiping tears away before taking her baby in her arms.

“Hi, bubba. You’ve probably heard my voice in mamas tummy. You’re gorgeous, aren’t you?” Leah cooed

You couldn’t help but cry at the interaction, memories from Amelia’s birth flashing in your mind.

Leah brought little miss over to you as she sat on the edge of the bed, handing her over to you.

“I can’t believe she’s here.” You said, pressing a light kiss to your daughter’s cheek.

—

“We need a name, le.” You tell her as Leah’s was having skin to skin time with little miss.

Yours and Leah’s parents had come and gone, visiting the newest member of the family, who still didn’t have a name.

“How about Charlotte after your grandad Charlie?” Leah suggested, looking at the baby on her chest. “You’ve always spoken such good things of him.”

Your grandad was your hero growing up, he was always the man you looked up to, along with your dad, and naming your daughter after him was such an honour.

“I love it, le. Charlotte Alessia Williamson.” You said, repeating her full name.

“Charlotte Alessia Williamson. Hi, Charlie.” Leah cooed at Charlie, Charlie’s eyes opening to look at Leah.

A frown appeared on Charlie’s face, identical to Leah’s and Amelia’s.

“Another Williamson frown I have to deal with, great.”

—

“Hi, Ami.” Leah cheered as she opened the hospital door to Amelia and Alessia.

“Sissy?” Amelia questioned and Leah nodded, a massive smile on her face as she pointed to you holding Charlie.

“Be careful of mama and sissy.”

“Hi, Le. Congratulations.” Alessia said, hugging Leah as she also walked over to you and baby Charlie. “She’s tiny.” Alessia whispered, as both her and Ami just started in awe at the baby in front of them.

“Do you want to hold sissy?” You asked Ami, who nodded.

You helped Amelia prepare to hold Charlie before placing Charlie in her arms.

“Love you, sissy.” Amelia babbled, pressing a kiss on her head.

You took a picture of the interaction, wanting to remember it forever.

“Would auntie lessi want a cuddle?” You questioned, a smile resting on your face as her face lit up.

Alessia took Charlie in her arms, gently swaying side to side due to Charlie letting out a small cry.

“What’s her name?” Alessia asked as you looked at Leah.

“You tell her.” Leah said

“Her name’s Charlotte Alessia Williamson.” You told Alessia, her jaw dripping in shock.

“Alessia? As in like me Alessia?” Alessia asked, her face still full of shock.

“You’re not even like a sister to me anymore, less, you are my sister as far as I’m concerned and there was no other person we wanted to name our daughter after, then you.” You explain and Alessia bursts into tears, hugging you and Leah tightly.

“Thank you so much.” Alessia said through tears.

“Thank you, less.”

Alessia left later on, leaving your little family of now four.

You and Leah cuddled up in the hospital bed, watching your two girls sleep.

“Thank you for giving me the perfect life.” Leah whispered

“Thank you too, Le.” You replied, placing a soft kiss on her lips.

<Y/NWilliamson posted>

Liked by alessia, bethmead_, leahwilliamsonn and 242,930 others

Welcome to the world, Charlotte Alessia Williamson. Me, mummy and your sister love you so so much 🤍

alessia @kyracooneyx. see I’m the better auntie, they even named her after me

^ Y/NWilliamson The birth certificate hasn’t been officialised, I can always change it if you continue your be childish.

^ alessia fine, mum 🙄

Stanwaygeorgia flight tickets all ready, see the four of you soon!

bethmead_ look at her, can’t wait to meet you Charlie 💗

Leahwilliamsonn little miss 💕

[pierregazly]

a hug from you ꨄ oscar piastri

oscar piastri x afab!reader

warnings: reader dealing with period pain, long-distance relationship, mostly fluff [1022 words]

request: heyyy could you do "you look like you could use a hug" + "it will be better in the morning" from the 💗 list? with oscar piastri please!

The heating pad was pressed against your abdomen, the warmth radiating through your body as you clutched it closer to you. The cramps were heinous, they always were the first two days of your cycle. The headaches and back pain that had started to accompany the cramps just an extra frustration.

The pain had started earlier in the day, after an already-nightmare start to the morning. From the coffee that had slipped off the counter early in the morning, mug shattering across the floor, to the package of paper that had flown off your desk later in the afternoon - it felt like everything was slowly getting worse and piling up as the day progressed.

This agonizing pain radiating from your uterus was simply the icing on the cake. Tears had already been irrationally shed, junk food consumed. All you wanted to do now was curl up on the couch with the heating pad and a blanket, maybe a few snacks, and the television on to whatever sad show you could find.

Physical comfort from your favourite person, would also be a plus. The only thing you actually wanted, too.

Unfortunately, Oscar was still on a plane. He was coming home from London for winter break, the Formula 1 season having finally come to an end.

It was the only thing you were looking forward to now. Even if the pain radiating from your uterus had you clutching the heating pad closer to your abdomen every few moments, a grimace so evident on your features - all you could think about was the fact Oscar would be walking through the apartment door in a few short hours.

Oscar had texted you from his layover in Singapore hours ago, advising he was about to get on the plane and would message you when the plane touched down in Melbourne. Having taken the same flight more times than you can even count, you knew it wouldn’t be much longer til he was back home in his home country.

The ding from your phone minutes later being exactly what you thought, Oscar had landed and was just grabbing his luggage. He’d likely be home in the next hour.

Knowing how late it was, Oscar wasn’t expecting a response from you when he messaged you to let you know he was on his way home. The surprise of receiving a response almost immediately prompted a small smile to curl up on his lips.

He hadn’t seen you in almost a month in a half, both schedules being too hectic to make time for him to fly home, or for you to fly out to a race. He had been dying to see you from the moment he stepped on the plane in London, excited to get the chance to curl up around you and simply sleep after such a long flight. He would be the first one to admit how much he detested sleeping alone.

You were thinking the same thing, except all you wanted was to be wrapped up in his arms, his warm body helping to alleviate the never-ending cramping that felt like it was overtaking your body.

It didn’t take him long to get to your shared apartment once he finally hit the road, the late hour making it a smooth drive; no other cars on the road to impede his heavy foot that was currently pressing down on the gas pedal. 

The click of the lock had your head whipping towards the door from your spot on the couch, your face lighting up as the door swung open. Oscar had bags hanging off all his limbs, a backpack on his back, two suitcases beside his legs, a duffle swung up on his arms. But you could still see the smile on his face once your eyes connected with his.

It took him a moment to register you in the dark of the apartment, the only light being from the hallway and the television. He instantly clocked the heating pad pressed to your abdomen overtop of the blanket, the packages of snacks laid out on the coffee table in front of you, and the show you only ever watched during this time of the month replaying on the television - his own grimace overtook his features once he wrapped his head around everything.

Dragging all his belongings into the room, he made his way over to you. Internally groaning as you sat up, Oscar was quick to place a soft peck to your lips, your cheeks, and then your forehead.

“Hi, baby,” he said, a soft smile etched on his cheeks.

“Hi, Osc. Missed you,” you murmured.

“Missed you more. You look like you could use a hug,” the words left his lips, his eyes following your movements as you shrugged, a small nod following.

He knew you like the back of his hand, knew that all you wanted was affection and cuddles from him when your body was hurting like this. Which, after almost an entire day of flying, he was more than happy to grab your hand and drag you towards the bedroom, his bags a problem for another day as he flopped down on the bed, his jacket, shirt, and pants having already found their way to the floor. 

Eagerly dragging you into bed with him, he was quick to wrap his arms around you, tugging your body into his as he nestled his face into your neck. The exhale that fell from your lips was one of content. Happy to finally be wrapped in Oscar’s arms again, the warmth radiating from his body soothing the ache in yours.

“Missed you so much, Osc. Hate being away you for so long. Hate being alone when my body is trying to kill me.” 

You felt him press a kiss to the exposed skin of your neck.

“Well, I’m home now. Everything will be better in the morning, my love.”

You hoped he was right. Really, you knew he was right. Your cramps wouldn’t be as bad, everything that had happened today would be yesterday’s problem. You got to wake up next to Oscar, had the opportunity to finally spend another day with him.

It was all you could ask for, really.

i don't love this, but i rewrote it so many times i needed to get it out??? all i want is oscar to comfort me when i'm dealing with this tho sooo

[nottswitch]

HI POOKIE!! Congratulations on 1K im so happy for you!!!!!!!! If its okay with you i wanna play your game 🥰 if its alright, i’d like Mattheo Riddle with 6, please. Smut is obvi okay with me 😜 love you!!!!

hi babe!!! thank you sm and for sending a request 💘 i had to go with smut, obviously. your aesthetic is…

— campcore

(revolves around camping and camping activities such as hiking, fishing, and stargazing)

۶ৎ navigation ; masterlist ; mattheo m-list ; how to request ; 1k celebration

18+ smut

the only sounds surrounding the small camp you had set up in the woods with your friends were crickets and small waves of the lake softly crashing against the sandy shore. you didn’t hear it, though; the only sound in your ears was the noise of your heart furiously beating in your chest as your best friend fucked you into the ground inside your tent.

mattheo’s hands roughly grabbed your ass, squeezing the soft flesh so firmly that you were sure his fingers would leave actual indents in your skin. leaving some kind of a mark seemed to be his intention, because the next moment, you felt his large and rough palm loudly connecting with your asscheek, making you bury your face deeper into your sleeping bag to stifle a squeal.

"you did that on purpose, didn’t you?” he hissed, leaning over your sweaty form, the fabric of his hoodie cool against the heated skin of your back. "wearing that slutty little bikini at the lake today. knowing exactly what it does to me.”

you couldn’t reply even if you tried because his cock was hitting all the right spots inside your clenching pussy, your needy walls squeezing him so good his eyes rolled to the back of his head for a second.

"been hard all day because of you," mattheo murmured into your ear, his hand slowly traveling up your body, the contrast between his deliberate touch and ruthless pace messing with your mind and creating a thick, lust-filled fog. words just couldn’t come to you, since your mind was filled with nothing but mattheo’s cock and grunts, reverberating thorough your sensitive body. "this the kind of attention you wanted? wanted me to fuck your brainless, like the slut you are?"

you had half a mind to nod, but suddenly couldn’t move your head – his hand clasped around your throat, holding you in place. that action made the knot of pleasure in your stomach tighten even further than it already was, the tip of mattheo’s dick simultaneously fighting to make it snap with each of his thrusts. a moan broke out of your throat, and you wanted to muffle it in the sleeping bag again, but mattheo didn’t let you. the hand that was on your throat lifted up ever so slightly, calloused fingers digging into your cheeks and turning your face to the side, pressing it into the ground.

"getting shy now, little princess?" he mockingly cooed, pounding into you with what felt like newfound energy. "weren’t so shy flaunting that ass of yours around, huh?"

you whined, your legs starting to shake from the build up of pleasure wracking through your body. mattheo seemed to feel you tightening around him, which prompted a hissy growl and a loud, shaky exhale.

"fuck," he breathed out against your cheek, his darkened eyes burning through you tear-streaked face as he mercilessly hit all the right spots inside of you. "cum on my cock, baby. i want everyone to hear what a fucking whore you are for me."

playlist

❥ coincidence by sabrina carpenter

❥ august by taylor swift

❥ creatures in heaven by glass animals

❥ we can’t be friends by ariana grande

[eddiernunson]

Really Drives Me Mad | Bfs Dad!Eddie Munson x Reader | 18+

Master List | Next Part

My best friend tells me that he's a keeper

I really like Dylan a lot But Dylan's dad He really drives me mad With his faded tats Sings in a cover band Yeah he's super hot with his ripped dad bod Oh my, oh my god I like Dylan a lot But oh god I love Dylan's dad

I know y'all weren't expecting this... Well neither was I. It like invaded my mind and begged me to write it. (this is the dirtiest thing ive ever written.)

Word Count: 7.5k

Summary: You've been dating Dylan Munson for a little bit, and it's going well, or at least you feel like it is. Despite everything right with Dylan you can't help but feel uneasy...then you meet Eddie Munson, his dad... and find yourself wet at the sight of him. (reader is in her 20s, Eddie probably in his 40s or so)

Warnings: masturbation (both), voyeurism (both), lot of perv!Eddie, reader ends up cheating, just some dirty stuff. MINORS DNI.

As you sit cross legged on your best friend’s garage couch mindlessly watching some Netflix while she took another hit, your phone dings, a text message you’ve been waiting on.

“Ooh, speak of the devil.” She teases you, putting the bong aside to peek at what Dylan texted you. You roll your eyes at her, answering him to pick you up in the morning. “What did he say?”

Her eyebrows were wagging over-exaggeratingly, and you narrow your eyes. “Just asked when I wanted to get picked up for our trip to the beach tomorrow.”

“Are you excited?” She asks, her voice suggestive and you can hear more excitement in her voice alone than you felt about the trip.

“Yes.” You lie to her, because if you told the truth, you knew you’d hear about it.

Dylan was a good guy. You met him through a singles mixer you went to for shits and giggles and ended up meeting him. He had no business being there, his league was not the type of girl to go to a Fajita style mixer even for laughs. He was so overwhelmingly better looking than every other guy in that mixer that scooping him up before anyone dug their claws in was the logical thing to do.

It wasn’t that you didn’t find him hot.

Dylan ended up being almost everything you said you were looking for. Stable. Ready for commitment. Willing to go the extra mile.

He was stable in every way it takes most men into their 30s to figure out.

You knew he was a rare find as someone dating in your 20s. Yet, there was just something missing.

It wasn’t anything you could describe, and each time you had expressed the feeling people seem to dismiss it, claiming it stemmed from every failed relationship you’ve had. Logically, you should be head over heels over this man who is so sweet and willing to do the most.

But the feeling just nagged at your skull.

For the sake of not feeling guilty and seeing that same bug-eyed expression on your best friend you lie. It felt weird to have to lie to her just to seem grateful for what life has provided to you on a silver platter. So, until an actual reason for this hesitancy presents itself, the dates and the heavy make out sessions and whatnot will continue.

The ego boost he provides when he sends you drooling emojis when you send a bikini selfie for what you’re wearing the next day certainly doesn’t help your case.

“I’m so glad you found him, he’s so sweet.” She mentions off-hand.

You nod, gritting your teeth.

-

Dylan is on time, as always, prompt and proper to pick you up from your apartment. He texts to let you know he was outside, and you grab your beach bag of snacks and your towel and do a final assessment in the mirror.

Cute pink bikini that hung by a string sitting high on your hips, barely hidden by the long cut out dress you wore. Your bag matched the bikini, and you wore some tiny sunnies to put the whole look together. If you’re gonna date someone as good looking might as well look the part.

As you approached his chevy truck he was animatedly bug eyed while looking at you, his brown eyes popping out of their socket while he drummed his steering wheel. His zest and energy for life was always so contagious. You smiled at him, your cheeks burning as you climbed into the passenger seat.

“Hi baby.” He greets you, kissing you softly. You find yourself grinning into it.

He pulls out onto the main road for the forty-five-minute trip to the lake most people go for a weekend getaway. About five minutes down the road, Dylan pats his cargo shorts down real quick and grunts in disappointment.

“What?”

“Forgot the parking pass for the beach lot. I literally got that for fifteen dollars so I wouldn’t have to pay twenty at the till.” He explains, making a sudden left turn.

You’ve been to his house before, and he usually takes you there when his dad is either at work or just not home. You weren’t sure why, his dad seemed like a decent dude.

(From what you’ve heard anyway)

Maybe, like you, he wasn’t ready for meeting the parents yet.

“Oh, I think my dad will be home around now. Hope that’s okay.” He says, as if you had just spoken aloud. “I think it was time for you to meet him, anyways.”

Shit. Nope. He was ready. You were no where ready for him to meet your mom, who already loved him just from your best friend’s descriptions.

“Oh. Sure.” You glance down to your outfit, something worn not knowing you were about to meet parents. “Are you sure I’m dressed for that though?”

“My dad has met girlfriends in worse positions.” Dylan laughs. “Trust me. This is a better meeting.”

This helps you very little.

Five minutes down the road he pulls into the starter home he and his dad have been living in his whole life, a sweet little bungalow with three rooms and two bathrooms. It was by no means anything to cough at, certainly impressive for a mechanic, but Dylan seemed to behave incredibly sheepishly every time.

Dylan pulls in, and your heart races as you see his dad’s truck in the driveway. As Dylan gets out to open your door, he can feel your nervousness. “Can I just stay here?” You ask him, unsure why he needed you to go in for a pass in the first place.

“Oh I promise he doesn’t bite.” He jokes.

You give him a weak smile, holding his hand as you walked to the front door. The door doesn’t need a key, swinging open and the bright sunlight giving you both a shadow against the hardwood flooring. Dylan walks in, calling for his dad’s name. You squeeze his hand tighter out of nervousness. Eventually the sounds of his creaky steps are heard from the kitchen where Dylan is scanning for his pass, signalling his father coming down the steps.

You were facing towards the stove across the island counter, watching Dylan go through the drawers for it.

“Woah, thought you’d be halfway to the beach by now, you were so damn excited.” You hear his dad’s voice, and there’s something about it, his tone leaning towards a tease that enticed you to turn your head towards him.

Your jaw dropped. Or it didn’t. Certainly felt like a moment for your mouth to open in amazement. In a split second you knew where Dylan got his good looks, and it was only a fraction of how mouth watering his dad was.

He wonders in with sweatpants low on his hips wearing a band t-shirt and his long curly hair was wet from a shower. As he shuffled by to the fridge, the scent of aftershave invaded your nose and somehow it just went straight to your core. He was certainly fit even for a dad, slight dad bod but nothing to poke at, you could tell he worked with his hands.

“Forgot my pass.” He mutters, looking through another drawer.

“I saw it this morning, so I put it in your bag as you were heading out.” His dad mentions off hand, getting the ingredients for a bowl of cereal out. As he lifted his hands over his head revealing a tattoo on his tummy and the treasure trail saliva entered your mouth like water bursting through a man-made dam.

“Seriously?” Dylan dead pans. He turns to you, and you switch your glance to seem innocent like you haven’t been eye-fucking his dad. “I’m gonna go double check it’s in there. Just stay here be right back.” He kisses you on the forehead and leaves without giving you a chance to protest.

“Nice, to meet you, by the way.” He says in a gruff voice as he pours the sugary cereal into the bowl.

“Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Munson.” Your voice sounded strained; you were hoping you were just imagining it.

He lets out a noise in disgust, his face scrunching up comically. “Oh god. Don’t call me that. Call me Eddie. Never Mr. Munson. Gross.”

You smile closed mouthed at his genuine disgust for it, and Eddie presents a smile as if your laughter was the long-term goal. “Nice to meet you, Eddie.”

“Much better.” He praises you, and it might be the closest thing you’ll ever get to the kind of praise you wanted from him, the kind where you find yourself on your knees in the kitchen, but you happily accepted it. Any crumbs you would happily take.

He could spit on you, and you would thank him.

Oh. That’s…new.

That wasn’t something you felt with Dylan at all. If Dylan had decided to spit on your face during sex, you would call the police. It would turn you off so fast you would kick him off you.

“Going to Lake Maureen?” He asks you, supposedly making small talk.

“Nope.” You tell him. “Museum.”

Eddie tilted his head, and from his shoulder’s shaking and the slow smile you could tell he was laughing.

“Yes.” You affirm.

“Where did you meet again?” Eddie asks as he puts away the milk, his voice seeming to extend from a thought he doesn’t share.

“Oh, a mixer.”

“Not the church mixer.” Eddie tilts his head, seeming genuinely fearful it was the truth.

You confirm that yes, it was the church mixer.

Eddie grabs a mug to pour the coffee you hadn’t noticed had he put on. As his hands cup a graphic mug you couldn’t see the comic for, you see the silver rings on his fingers and if your core wasn’t heated up before, it certainly was now.  He leans forward, taking a sip of straight black coffee for a minute. “Sweetheart. You’re far too pretty to be going to a goddamn mixer. No wonder he was so fucking enthralled when he got home that day.”

You feel your face heat up at the nickname followed by him calling you pretty. Your thighs squeeze together as you attempt to force your heart back into your chest where it belonged. Somehow your extremities were freezing, and all the heat was centered in your pussy, just soaked from his presence alone.

He could tell you weren’t taking the compliment seriously. “Seriously. If he fucks it up and you end up single again no more fucking mixers for you.”

“Not like I had any more choices.” You defend yourself, not knowing why his insistence turned you on so much.

Eddie rolls his eyes as if he didn’t believe you. His mouth opens to tell you something, and the sound of Dylan bursting through the front door seems to cut him off. “Oh, you should’ve told me, we could’ve been almost there by now. Come on, baby! See you dad!”

The door slams, and you guessed you were supposed to follow him. “Um, you were gonna say something?” and the mystery is just too much for you.

“Oh. Was I? Totally forgot.” Eddie shrugs, putting his coffee mug down, having chugged that entire cup within the conversation. “Have fun.”

He scoops another spoonful of sugary cereal in his mouth, the dimples on his face prominent but the smile devious.

That smile would haunt you for the next twelve hours.

-

The trip with Dylan was alright, he swore up and down it was the best trip and it just brought you both closer as a couple. You probably would’ve agreed. A trip to the beach with Dylan Munson sounded enticing and sexy and adventurous for the most part until you met his dad.

Now thoughts of his flexed forearms has he gripped the counter while talking to you, wet hair smelling beautifully of the musk shampoo he used invaded your mind. Dylan fingering you on the beach under your skirt was yes, smoking hot, but as you imagined a certain someone else doing the same it brought you to your orgasm much quicker and much harder. Dylan figured he must be doing something right.

Guilt evaded you as you knew what the hell you were doing was wrong. You now had an excuse to get rid of him, you were far more into his dad than you ever were into him, and it should’ve been a sign.

But if you broke up with him now, you wouldn’t be able to see his dad. Yet as you took a walk down the shoreline into a cave and your eyes close picturing certain ringed fingers gripping your hips as Dylan did it made the sneaking off and the public sex that much hotter.

Seems you were sluttier than your initial sex life led you to believe. Turns out, you just haven’t met a man you wanted to be slutty for. Public sex seemed fun in theory, always so nerve wrecking in practice.

Public sex with Eddie felt like you wanted to get caught with him, fully enjoying his cock and letting people see. Voyeurism mixed with public embarrassment was suddenly hot and you got so into it that Dylan expressed how excited he was to fuck you on the next hike you took together, something he has expressed much interest in, but you denied bashfully every time.  

Because with Dylan sex wasn’t all encaptivating. Sure he could make you cum, but you were never ready to rip off his clothes in a heartbeat. The moment you saw Eddie your fingers started to itch for that damn low sitting sweatpants for them to droop just a little…bit…more.

Dylan drops you off with a romantic wet kiss, and you walk into the door of your apartment in a daze. Before you can even think about it, you find yourself on your bed, your skirt around your ankles and two of your fingers down your bikini bottoms.

You start to take them off but there’s a voice you picture saying, “No, no. Keep them on like the whore you are.” It was not Dylan’s.

You listened to it, pretending to rub your clit in front of him watching. You could see a wild eye on his face, picturing him not being able to touch you driving him mad. The heat that expands into your pussy from that thought alone drives your hips for more friction. “Oh so fucking needy, yeah?” You imagine him saying to you, and fuck, you couldn’t not think of him being good at dirty talk. “Need this cock, don’t ya?”

The image of him slowly working the elastic waist-band of his sweatpants made you moan aloud, needily grinding on your own fingers.

“Too damn bad. You’re just gonna have to make yourself cum, like the slut you are.”

The slight foreplay you were accidentally given all day through your own imagination mixed with how fucking wet you were brought you to a quick orgasm, fluttering in your extremities as you continued imagining the wild eyes on Eddie’s face or the firm voice as he didn’t give you a choice on your dating pool.

This was the first truly earth-shattering orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life. One that you truly had to recover from…and it was from just picturing this man.

Something in you wanted the real thing, and you were terrified of how willing you were to go through with it, and equally as terrified of going through life wondering what it could’ve been like

If sex with Eddie Munson was as good as the orgasm you gave yourself, you might have to be Dylan’s stepmom, because you just found what was missing.

-

“Hey baby.” Dylan says, welcoming you as he opens the door.

You hold your pillow and a duffle bag sits on your shoulder for a sleepover, and the shorter shorts with a tank top you wear signalling you were ready for a night in. As you pass by him, Dylan gives out a low whistle to how well your ass is shown off in the pair of shorts you wore. They were so well fitting he could see you were either wearing a thong or nothing, but you could tell it turned him on. While this gave you a confidence boost, he wasn’t the target audience.

When you requested the sleepover Dylan warned you his dad would be there. Good. You assured him that would be fine. That was the goal.

“Hi, sweetheart!” Eddie calls down to you, and the smile invades your face before you could stop it.

“Hi, Mr. Munson!” You call out, and the sound of gagging is heard. “I meant Eddie!”

“Oh, I forgot he gets everyone to call him by his first name, like a lame youth pastor.” Dylan rolls his eyes, tugging on your hand to bring you to the couch in the living room. “Movie?”

You nod jerkily. Dylan works around you, getting a blanket, popcorn, and the movie all set up. He turns down the lights, winking at you suggestively as he does so.

Less than five minutes into the movie, the beginning credits still lingering on to the actors he leans in with an open mouth, his hand making its way to your hip. With the smell of him still fresh, being able to smell him on the couch you were on, it was easy to get eagerly into the kissing. This encouraged Dylan, of course confusing your eagerness for him. He reaches down, placing two of his fingers over your clothed pussy.

You moan lightly, and he shushes you softly. Mentally you roll your eyes, because he was telling you to be quiet because his dad was home.

You were hooking up with him on his couch because his dad was home. You listen to him anyway, and he starts to rub in small circles, you moan even higher, imagining he could hear you and getting off to it. “Shh, baby.” Dylan whispers. “Oh, you’re wet. Fuck.”

He slips his hands into your shorts, leaning you down to rub your pussy and attack your neck at the same time. “Pussy feels…mazing.” Dylan mutters between the slobbery neck kisses he gives you. It was enough for you to picture him, but suddenly Eddie coming downstairs right now without knowing what you were doing got you off even more.

“Eat me out?” You ask him, and ever the gentleman he smiles devilishly at you as he crawls down. He goes to place the blanket over his head, and you stop him. “Wanna see your face.”

Okay, you wanted to see Eddie see your pussy as his son went down on you, but it made Dylan eager enough to dig in in a way you haven’t seen from him yet.

You whine from the hot pleasure it gave you, you grind on his face, the heat focused on your pussy in a way that has never happened before. The idea of Eddie accidentally walking in on you but watching instead of saying anything gets you off so easily Dylan is feeling your juices wet his chin and your ass like it never has before.

“Greedy baby.” He mumbles, placing two fingers into you and giving kisses to your thighs as he pumps them.

“Gonna cum soon, Dyl.” You warn him.

Luckily, Dylan knows it means to keep doing what he’s doing. You were close, but the sound of footsteps upstairs followed by a door closing pushed you over the edge, knowing he could very well be going to his room from elsewhere, but hoping he was at the top of the stairs.

Just the possibility of him being at the top pushed you over. “Holy shit.” Dylan mutters, crawling up to you. “Must’ve been riled up, huh.”

“Yeah.” You tell him, suddenly feeling Dylan’s boner poking the inside of your knee. “Mere, I wanna help you.”

“No, I wanna fuck you, let’s go to my room.”

His room…down the hall…where there’s a better chance he could hear you. “Sure!”

-

Eddie Munson was sure there was something out to get him. The moment your pretty fucking face greeted him in his kitchen when he wondered down fresh from a shower he was sure there was something laughing at this pure misery.

The smile on your face, the smell of your sweet perfume, the way your skirt hugged your hips all melted him into one pot. When you told him you met Dylan at a fucking mixer, he wanted to shoot the person who made you feel like you were worthy of being ogled at by a bunch of singles at an awkward church mixer.

A church mixer.

He hated that Dylan liked them, always said only weirdos go there and was sure Dylan as exaggerating when he expressed how gorgeous and out of his league you were.

His heart freezing at the sight of you sit perched on one of his stools, shyly watching your boyfriend, even only from the back made him wonder if angels were real. Fuck, he didn’t ask for any proof of your beauty when offered to show your Instagram, but he wouldn’t have believed it.

He spent that entire first conversation doing everything he could to be a fucking father figure and remind himself you were dating his son. He was not hitting on you at a bar, he was your boyfriend’s dad.

Somehow that just made the forbidden part about it that much hotter.

He felt like a pervert as the scent of your shampoo jumped out at him when he passed by you for the milk, and he had wanted to stop in place and take a big inhale. Felt like an even bigger pervert as he saw the string of your bikini bottom sitting high on your hip peaking out of your skirt and he just wanted to get a shot of that underskirt.

Every thought he had about you as your wit came through the conversation, he wondered what the hell you were doing with Dylan. He loved his kid, but you deserved better than what he knew his kid would provide.

He knew about Dylan that he’d be a great husband one day. Someone reliable and trustworthy enough to build a life with.

He didn’t want that for you. He wanted you to have something mind-blowing and earth shattering, something intoxicating. Something that made you feel the way he felt just by smelling your goddamn shampoo. Your teeny tiny bikini with your hair up in a messy bun with cute little sunglasses all somehow went to his cock, and he was glad you were called over before he said something even more stupid.

Eddie rolled his eyes at your claim there wasn’t a bigger dating pool, opening his mouth to retort--“Oh, you should’ve told me, we could’ve been almost there by now. Come on, baby! See you dad!”

The door slams, and that concluded the end of that conversation. “Um, you were gonna say something?” you ask him, and he wondered if the intrigue on your face was something he just imagined.

“Oh. Was I? Totally forgot.” Eddie lies. I was gonna say I am proof there is a bigger dating pool than you would believe, sweetheart… but he knew it would’ve said something he couldn’t unsay.

Dylan told him you were coming over for a sleepover, and he and Dylan’s room were only separated by the bathroom. Eddie might use the basement for the night because he didn’t trust his perverted mind not to seek you out and look at what little pjs you have chosen to wear. He gave you space out of respect when you arrived, wondering if it was flirting when you called him Mr. Munson.

Suddenly a noise that Eddie could only describe as the doorbell to heaven (or hell with what his mind was thinking) reached the door he had kept open for this very reason.

He kept his tv playing and sneaked off to the top of the stairs, hoping to catch his kid getting you off while you moaned under the covers. The treat he was given was far better, the hand over your tight ass shorts feeling you up as you leaned back and whined all high pitched. Eddie’s cock was so hard at the moment not touching it would be like self-neglect.

He backed up against the wall by the stairs, listening to your moans as he got you off, desperately wishing it was his fingers in your wet heat. He imagined your scrunched up face as you made those stunning noises, starting to stroke himself. A pause occurs, your blissed out voice asking him to eat you out. He bites back a moan at wanting to taste you, wanting to get all up in those juices and to show him how much you turned him on. He leans over the wall into the stair entry, expecting the blanket to be covering you but instead being met with your pussy on full display.

A low guttural moan escapes his throat, fucking into his fist and pretending it was you bent over for him instead, whining the same exact way. He knew you would have a pretty pussy, but this was just un-fucking fair.

You warn Dylan you were about to cum, and that pushes him over his own edge, and he suddenly has a mess he needs to clean up all over his fist. God he wanted you to clean it, to suck it all up. He was making himself hard again and he had to flee to his fucking bedroom to wash up.

Suddenly the creak of the stairs erupts as he is cleaning himself up, and Dylan’s door closes. Oh. They’re…continuing.

Your moans are suddenly loud, and Eddie finds himself hard again as he realizes he’s hearing you being fucked. Oh, he knew you were a fucking dirty slut.

Just fucking knew it. Something that hasn’t happened since he was in his 20s, but he’s ready to jerk himself off within minutes of just cumming. “Yeah, my whore being fucked open, letting everyone hear how good she feels, oh shit.” Eddie mutters to himself, right next to his door.

He ends up finishing at the same time you did, which didn’t take either one of you very long.

-

The next morning you wake next to Dylan sleeping with a big smile on his face. To him, that was the best sex you’ve ever had together. Mixed with your adventure at the beach last week, you guys were doing better than ever.

 To you, it was only amazing because you kept thinking of Eddie fucking you and it did everything for your core. You get up in the tiny pair of pajamas you had packed, something that barely covered your ass and headed downstairs for some breakfast.

As you were leant down to assess the cereals, you heard the stride of someone come in behind you.

Eddie walks in behind you, holding back a swear as he sees your pussy peaking out of your pajama bottoms. A gentleman, and not knowing you fully reciprocated every horny thought, he ignores it and hopes you sit up.

You don’t, leaning even more forward and making a show of wondering what to eat. Eddie inhales, allowing himself to watch you. You turn around to him jerking his head away, and you felt some pride in getting his attention. “Morning.” You greet him, offering a bowl for him.

He rejects it. “Not hungry.”

“Oh.” You pour cereal, and Eddie focuses on not staring at your beaded nipples peaking through the tiny silk top you wore.

“Fuck.” He whispered, the boner growing.

“Something wrong?” You ask him innocently, and knowing this was working to your benefit made you nervous but eager.

“Lots to do today.” Like jerk off another three times.

“Like what?” You asked, taking a spoonful of cereal even though you had no appetite from the butterflies in your stomach.

“Oh not much.” Eddie wonders to you, and by reaching over you to grab the cereal he wonder if he could sneak a smell from your shampoo.

You sit up as he leans away, and you are so close you can see just how gorgeous he is. God, those brown eyes. “Do you have any…one to do?” You ask, glancing back and forth between his pretty lips and his even prettier eyes. You didn’t even know which ones to focus on.

Eddie leans in a bit to you, just ghosting over your lips. “Are you sure…that you want this?”

You nod, your eyes glazing over in want as the arousal in your gut suddenly exploded into a need.

“Cause…cause if we do this there is no going back. If your pussy…” he inhales sharply, taking a breath of your hair. “is as good as I imagine, there’s no way I’m giving you back.”

This sentence turns you into gelatin, and you lean forward to finally kiss him, his lips rough as he seemingly forgets how to act for a moment.

His brain finally catches up and he grabs onto you, inhaling and messy kisses, and grabby hands all at once as he tries to do everything he’s wanted to. Your hands make their way into his hair, and it was as soft as you pictured it. His lips messily kiss down your jaw onto your neck and you let out a whine. He smiles widely at that. “Good. One I made. Needed that.”

“You heard me…yesterday?” You asked, wetter from the idea of it.

“Heard you? Fucking came to it.” He swears, as he continues an assault on your neck. You moan in response, your hips involuntarily grinding up. “Come on, upstairs.”

You almost wanted to get caught by Dylan, but to keep it going longer you follow Eddie giddily upstairs as he trips over himself and you felt like a goddamn teenager. You follow him into his room, and the curtains were blackout curtains, the lights turned off giving the illusion of everything being dark. “Can we turn on the lights?” You ask, delicately. “I wanna see you.”

Eddie turns on his dimmer switch light so it was low, and the look in his eye as he approaches you sat on his bed had a level of lust in them that drove you wild. He leans in to give you a kiss after sitting right by you, and it wasn’t enough touching for you. You crawl forward as you eagerly kissed him back, straddling his lap. “Fuck, sweetheart, you are fucking gorgeous.” He mutters, the silk pajamas you wore bunching up in his hands as he grabbed at it. “The little strap that peaked out of your skirt tied together was just tempting me to unwrap you like a present.” He huffs, still kissing your neck. You find yourself impatient, wanting his lips back on yours.

“Fuck, been thinkin’ about you on my cock ever…” he inhales your perfume with a deep grunting sigh of content. “ever since.”

You mewl to his confessions, and he’s a much better talker than you could’ve imagined. Your hips start to grind on their own accord and with the little fabric they have between your silk shorts and his thin pajama pants you felt his hard cock fairly easily. You let out a high moan of contentment, and Eddie watches as you grind on his cock and get yourself off so easily. “Oh shit, she’s a dirty slut, hey.” Eddie comments leaning back and watching you grind yourself. “Doesn’t even need a cock inside her, will just take anything I give her with a smile on her face.”

“I would—” you gasp, the material scratching your clit in the best way, “I would take any crumbs, fuck.”

You start to moan higher and grind faster, and Eddie wanted to make you cum by his hands or his mouth the first time but you making yourself cum against his pants meant he was now using this as a fucking cum rag to smell you when you weren’t near. “Take off those shorts, doll. Wanna see your pussy.”

“Ok.” They are yanked off without a second thought.

“Oh, good listener. What a good girl.” He comments petting your hair gently as you continued to grind again with your heat now directly against his pj pants, he could feel it against his cock. “Oh, fuck, you are soaked. My fucking horny slut.”

“Horny for you.” You whimper the edge just right there.

“Whoring herself out for the Munsons.” He comments, sort of bitter he had to hear you fuck his son before he could claim you.

“Pictured it was you.” You admit, your voice in a whisper as you confessed but the high you wanted almost there.

“Fuck, did you?” He asks, the idea you only enjoying it so much because you pictured him.

“Mmhmm. Pictured you watching me, too.”

“Fucking little voyeur.” He whispers, and you nodded. He rewarded you by grabbing your hips and rutting against you and hitting your clit even harder and your orgasm snuck up on you, and the extra attention Eddie pays you as he watches it wash through you only helps the high take longer to recover from.

“Oh my god.” You whisper, a last of the intense orgasm still running through you.

“Not done.” Eddie whispers, a big smirk on his face. He lightly pushes you down and grabs your legs and puts them over his shoulder. You watch him carefully, his face looking at your pussy at a way that would usually resolve in embarrassment. Instead, it only turned you on more because it meant he wanted you just as much.

He dives into your pussy with a level of expertise that only came from years of pleasuring women. You don’t know why but you knew he got off to pleasuring others from the moment you saw him and every moan you let out he absorbed it, getting better and better as your verbal ques direct him. The heat in your pussy intensifies as he continues, fucking two of his fingers into you.

You place your hands in his hair, grinding up when the feeling of wanting to be fucked takes over you. “No, patience baby. I need to see what you look like when you squirt.”

“I-I can’t—”

“Every woman can, sweetheart. Just means you’ve had no one show you yet. Feel that?” He asks you, the heat in your pussy expanding as he continued to attack your clit and finger fuck you.

You nod, the feeling in your gut like a tidal wave of pleasure.

“Focus on it.” You do, and as you do you look up at his eyes, already staring into yours as he assesses your reactions. The heat intensifies by a thousand, and the feeling of wanting to…pee…takes over.

“Fuck—” you start to protest.

“Let it happen. Let go. It’ll feel so fucking good…baby let go. Gonna feel so fucking good.” You trust him so you let go and a gush invades your ear as a red-hot pleasure makes home in your pussy. “One more?” Eddie asks you, his thumb now messaging your clit.

You twitch under him, your bud being so sensitive. “Oh fuck, Ed. Too much.”

“No, I think you can cum again. Wanna see that beautiful face all scrunched up. Wanna take a photo.” He holds out his phone casually, and your face heats up. “Not feeling all the sudden shy, are ya? You whored your little pussy for me how is this different?”

“Its…” you manage out, already close again. “Its hot.”

“She gonna cum again, all over my fingers?”

“All over your fingers.”

“You gonna lick em clean?”

“Can we share?”

Eddie groans audibly, titling his head back. “Of course, doll. Of fucking course, now cum all over them, please.”

The third orgasm takes over your body, and it’s so goddamn good you stop responding for a minute which causes Eddie to panic. “Oh shit, you okay?”

Giggles burst out of you, the kind of post orgasm giggles you’ve only read about in spicy novels. You thought they were fake. “Can I suck you off now?”

Eddie’s eyes bulge, and he realizes his hand is still on your pussy. He taps it lightly, causing you to whine. He lifts the finger first, inserting it into your mouth. “Suck this first.” You wrap your tongue around it, keeping eye contact as you taste yourself, and this is the only time it’s ever been truly hot to be able to taste yourself. Other times it was just perplexing.

Eddie takes the other finger when you let go and starts sucking on it, he closes his eye, enjoying the taste of your pussy on his tongue. Eddie crawls onto his bed and you basically pounce him, yanking his pj pants down as fast as they go, wanting to see his cock. His eyes watch you, blown and enwrapped in lust as he watches your eagerness.

As his cock pops out of his pants, an involuntary smile spreads across your face. The head to his cock was so pink, he must’ve been horny. “Oh, pretty cock.” You mutter, and he wasn’t even sure if you were saying to him or just saying it out loud. “Oh my god, look how pink your head is. Mmm..sure seem like you need some attention.”

You take the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking on it alone but getting used to his girth. Holy he was gonna hurt even with how wet you were. You start sucking on it, taking bit by bit more into your mouth each time, eagerly making sloppy spit sounds as you did so. It wasn’t hard to generate the spit you needed, the sight of his dick made your mouth water.

Your head bobbed up and down on it, illicit sounds being drawn out of him, only encouraging you more as the feeling of his rings harsh against your scalp making you wet. You pop off him, spit connected from your mouth to his dick. You lean forward to his treasure trail, licking the hair and biting at it, something you’ve wanted to do since you saw him. You find your way back down and passed his cock and he’s about to ask when take one of his balls into your mouth, sucking loudly.

“Oh fuck, do you know how to use that pretty little mouth. Holy shit.” You roam over it with your tongue, sucking it in and out repeatedly. Then you move on to the next one, giving it its own show as well. Your mouth moves back to suck on his cock but he tugs on your hair to bring him up to you.

“Want you to face fuck me.” You say to him, still not done sucking on his cock.

“Nother time. Lemme fuck you.” He mutters, tugging on the shirt you still wore. You crawl back up to straddle him, nothing between his cock and your pussy now, but he places his cock on it so the shaft slides in-between your folds, teasing you, and causing you to whine. “Oh shit.” He works on the buttons holding your silky pink shirt, the skilled hands working fast through each one. As each one reveals another inch of skin, he feels more intoxicated by you, especially how you’re begging him to put his cock in. Your tits fall out of the shirt, and he rips the back off you, and you let it fall to the floor. You grab onto his band shirt, attempting to move it off him. You barely do it, the feeling of his cock so close inside you causing your focus to fall apart in seconds. He laughs, nearly cruel, yanking the shirt off, revealing more tattoos you’ve never seen. Your hands flutter to his chest, moving to each tattoo and touching every inch you can.

Your mission to focus and analyze each tattoo is interrupted by him maneuvering you onto your back. You lay there, open and ready for him. “Holy shit, fucking smoking hot.” He mutters, like he couldn’t believe you were here with him.

It was you who was the lucky one, he was crazy.

“You’re hotter.” You mutter, as he starts to align his cock with your entrance. “Thought of you last night, made myself cum so hard.”

“Oh fuck. What was I doing?” He asks, still teasing you with it.

“Just watching me finger myself. Talking me through it. Calling me a whore.” He groans, tapping his cock on it. “Please, Ed need your cock.”

“Beg for it, you fucking slut.” He whispers, something taking over him.

“Please, daddy. Want your cock. Want you to fuck me like a ragdoll. Please, pretty please fuck me until I’m a puddle. I just want your cock in me, so fucking bad.”

“Gonna be a good slut for me?”

“Yes..I will I promise.”

He chuckles darkly and finally…finally moves into you. Your eyes cross and a moan so erotic leaves your body and you had barely a single ounce of control over that left your mouth at that point.

Eddie puts his head into your neck, feeling your head tighten around him in pleasure as you got used to his girth and length.

“Move…please?”

“Thought you were gonna take the crumbs I gave you, slut.” He mutters.

“Fuck. Sorry.”

He smiles and your fingers fidgeting at your sides were a dead giveaway you were just needy for him to move. It made him feel fucking powerful just his cock could make you feel like this. He starts rocking, slowly and you whine from this resolve alone. “Oh what a fucking whore, just needed a good fucking.” He mutters into your ear, his hand finding its way to your neck. “Putting her pussy on display for me, showing she just needed someone to know how to fuck her.”

You say nothing in response, and his hips are starting to rock against yours harder. Your eyes reach the back of your head as you lose air, but you revel in the feeling of nearly passing out as he takes his hand off. “Holy shit, you really are just a whore.”

You nod, eyes half lidded as you looked up at his pussy drunk eyes. “Little…cockdrunk…slut…” he inhales sharply and a wad of spit hits your face and you find yourself opening your mouth for more. “Fuck—” his hips stutter at the sight of your smile when his saliva hits your mouth. He spits right into it as you open for more and you act like it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted, cause it was.

Your tongue pokes out, gasping in more need. His hips are against yours so harshly you would’ve been afraid of bruising if it didn’t fucking turn you on so bad.

“Fucking slut, you want me to cum in you? Wanna be filled with my fucking cum?” You nod, too cocked out to speak, you’ve never felt this good from penetration alone before. “Cum with me, doll.” He mutters using his two fingers against your clit as he leans in to kiss you. Within moments you flutter around him, moaning into his mouth and he lets go of your kiss, stuttering his hips and letting out a loud moan as you feel him fill you up.

His body weight collapses ontop of you, and his hands are suddenly gentle as they sweep at your bangs sticking to your sweaty forehead. “Fuck.” He mutters, giving you a dazed-out look of pure adoration. “That was much better than anything I came up with.”

You nod in agreement, words still not coming to your mouth.

“You were such a good girl, yeah?” You smile, a heat coming up to your cheeks. “You listened to me so well. C’mere.” He wraps your lips in a kiss, his cock still in you, still hard and keeping all his cum in you.

“C-can we stay like this?” You ask timidly, not wanting his cock to leave yet.

“Ooh, baby wants to cock-warm? Sure. Wanna turn on a movie until 9, when Dylan usually wakes?” Eddie asks, already leaning towards the channel changer on his beside table.

Having to tell Dylan it was pretty much over the moment Eddie kissed you hadn’t even crossed your mind, and it would eventually twenty minutes into the movie when you got back to earth. Eddie knew the realization would kick in eventually so he let you watch a movie of your choice, sitting up on his bed with you straddled on his lap after a bit of maneuvering so you could both see the movie on his screen adjacent to his bed.

Eventually, Dylan was gonna wake.

Eventually, a storm would hit.

But for now, Eddie stayed inside you to pretend like it wasn’t over yet.

-

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