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vrystalius · 6 months ago

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Yo! Hello its me again! Could i please request like a reverse isekai where the kny characters end up in reader's house? And maybe she is like Mad rich but like.. Not a spoiled brat she likes to do charity and make money for herself and maybe she is living with her cousins, she is smark but can be stupid (if you know what i mean) i don't know, you can do whatever you want, (there is not enough reverse isekai fanfictions😭), anyhow, hope you have a good day and you didn't get sick of my (a lot) requests😁🫶🏻👋🏻

Hashira getting reverse isekai’d

Your favourite hashira suddenly appeared inside your home! How will they react to your home and the modern world?

Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Giyu x gn!reader

Sanemi Shinazugawa

He will not adjust to this change quietly— he is ready to destroy and slice every single piece of tech that decides to randomly beep or talk to him. You once found Sanemi trying to get his katana out of your ceiling after throwing it with full force against your smoke detector, after it beeped to remind you to change battery. It scared the shit out of him, so he put an end to that thing. Often times when using your phone, Sanemi accidentally activates Siri. He first thought that a demon was speaking through the phone with some kind of blood demon art, then, after explaining to him what exactly Siri is and what she does, he just begins cursing her and cussing her out every time she activates on him. You once had to remind him not to grip it so tightly, or else your screen might crack.

A thing he really, really likes about your modern home though is your bathroom. The shower, the large mirror, sink, toilet… just everything about it. The first time he stepped into your shower and closed the glass door behind himself, Sanemi was first confused about the shower settings. He turned every knob that is able to be turned, both cooking himself alive and dodging the water in fear of freezing, achieving both of these things in one shower. Once he finally found the perfect temperature, it was time to test all of the products you have, and not sparingly. Shampoo, conditioner, hair masks, shower gel, body scrub and whatever else he could get his fingers on— once he got out of the shower and returned to you, his smell was almost overwhelming, but at least you know now that his har is somehow able to look even better than before.

After a long adjustment period, you sometimes catch Sanemi watching the TV. He made himself comfortable in a corner of your couch, cuddled up in heated blankets (he learned how to use the settings all by himself!) and watching one movie after another. He’s quite the binge-watcher apparently, watching one action movie after another for hours on end. At the end of such day, he’ll complain about his eyes burning up without having any idea how that happened.

“Hey, wanna join me? Blanket s’ warm and I found a movie about some weird metal things moving really, really fast and guys kicking each other’s asses— Huh? Cars? Are those these fast carriages sliding around on there?”

Kyojuro Rengoku

He is incredibly curious about every single thing and would try to understand how everything works. Kyojuro would inspect your microwave and press every button their is, watching the pizza pocket he threw into there react to the different settings and then grieving about how the once weird snacks he wanted to try turned into a piece of burnt remains. Despite being the most comfortable with the traditional meals he used to eat, Kyojuro would love to try any dish you even mentioned by name once! Since you can get your food delivered to your front door, Kyojuro can try as many different cultural dishes as he can get his hands on! Or as many as you can get delivered to tour home. Ordering food is something he always gets very excited about, like what do you mean you can order all kinds of cultural food in a matter of minutes? How do the restaurants have all the ingredients available and are always ready to serve customers? And why do you refuse to order a so-called Happy Meal for him? Isn’t it supposed to make one happy?

Another thing Kyojuro is very excited about is the gym. He accidentally stumbled upon a fitness center after returning from buying groceries, staring at the people training inside with those weird machines. The hashira spotted a couple of people build broader and stronger than him, making him realise that this may be some kind of modern training ground. He begged on his hands and knees for a membership so he can explore all these new machines and weight excursuses. Once Kyojuro got inside, he was like a child in a candyshop. He spend the whole day testing out every machine, noting his own limits and setting goals on how to get even stronger. Despite no demons terrorising your world, he still wants to keep his muscles and gain strength to offer nice pillows you can lay your head on and also have the ability to open sealed jars for you without struggling.

“Can we order sweet potato tonight? I miss eating it, and it’s my comfort dish…. Also, I believe I may have started to develop homesickness. I miss my brother the most, though… Not that I don’t like it here, I love it! I just miss my father and brother, that’s all.”

Giyu Tomioka

Staying true to his nature, Giyu would be silent and awkward in this new space. He’s scared of offending you in any way but simply taking his haori off or sitting down onto your couch since he has no idea about the manners and behaviours expected from him in this world, but at the same time doesn’t bother to ask you in order to not burden you in any way. So, he quietly followed you around the house in and inspect your furniture and decorations, sometimes curiously picking something up and inspecting its function. His favourite object so far is a rubix cube he found on your desk. You caught him turn the sides, trying to understand what the point of this thing is. Does it have something on the inside? Why are the colours all scrambled up? While watching his irritation grow because of not being able to sort the colours, you suggested that Giyu can keep it and try to solve it after giving him a small briefing on what the point of the cube is. Thanking you, he kept the rubix cube on his body to play around with it whenever he has time. He is seriously invested in it and really wants to solve it in order to prove to himself that he can solve a complex puzzle and to maybe even impress you a little.

Also, you discovered that Giyu likes noise-canceling headphones, music and e-books. You often find him cuddled up together on your sofa, his face illuminated by your Ipad in his hands. You could hear the faint sounds of soft and slow music from the headphones he was wearing. He looks incredibly invested in whatever he is reading, so you snuck up on him and glanced over his shoulder, reading a couple of lines. It wasn’t a fantasy story or a random novel like you thought, but Giyu was actually reading an article about the behaviour of cats. Adorable, you thought, so you left him be and went on with your day. The water hashira eyed your form as you left, sneakily switching tabs and returning to what he was actually reading: a fluffy romance novel. He looks over his shoulder twice, thrice, checking if you are still near before feeling comfortable enough to continue his reading in peace.

“Can I borrow your.. headphones? They’re called headphones, right? Yes, I’d like to borrow them again. I want to use them to have more silence, you are being very loud and I wanted to read something.”

💠

You never bother me with your requests! They are always so fun to write for!! Also, I hope it’s okay I kind of “simplified” your request— I hope you enjoyed this anyway. Also, I didn’t include Gyomei because I was unsure of what exactly to write for him, but I may update this tomorrow and a small scenario for him <3

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <3

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gymjunkie412 · 16 days ago

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💕Instagram Sketch Requests💕

Hello everyone! I am back from my 3 month hiatus 👋🏻 supposedly 2 months, but things happen. There are some sketch req that I didn't do because some req the same thing in redraw req so I'll do the redraw one instead, okay? Doing these sketches has been fun and has been helping me fill in my sketch books with smth. I'm glad y'all love it and thank you for the requests🥰

So now that I'm back I can basically try and get back on track again and slowly be active again. Gosh, I've been gone for so long that my style changes...again. Or maybe not so, depends on you. Is there any changes.

Been having trouble balancing my time and all with trying to adapt to my new schedule. But that's not a big of an issue as I have been through it and will eventually and slowly balance it out.

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22ayla21 · 26 days ago

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Hello ❤️👋🏻

I suddenly got the idea of a trio of Amphoreus husbands getting caught up in a mess made by the kids. when their wife see the mess, the husbands and kids get scolded and end up cleaning up the mess they made. I want it to be fluffier ❤️

Family Chaos

Children love mischief, but this time Dad also became a victim and an accomplice.

It all started with an ordinary idea. Mydei just wanted to have some fun with the kids. He was a warrior, a proud heir of Kremnos, but in the presence of his little ones, he turned into an ordinary dad – starting pillow fights, running around the rooms pretending to be a monster, and not even afraid to get his clothes dirty with paint if the situation called for it.

That day, it all began with a simple activity – the children decided to build a "fort" in the living room. And what kind of fort is it without real walls made of pillows, blankets, and overturned chairs? Mydei, of course, supported this idea.

"If it's a fort, then it has to be the most impregnable one!" he declared, helping the children build a huge, shaky structure out of everything they could find.

It turned into real madness. Pillows flew around the room, thumping on the floor. Blankets got caught on the furniture, and the chairs just wouldn't stand straight. At some point, even large trays were used – for "protective gates."

But the real commotion started when the youngest daughter, beaming with delight, suggested adding some color. Literally. She brought out jars of paint and suggested "decorating" the walls of their castle. Mydei, of course, hesitated at first. But when his daughter looked at him with those pleading eyes, it was impossible to resist.

"Okay, just a little."

Those words became fateful.

An hour later, everything around was covered in paint. Pillows, the floor, furniture... even Mydei himself was covered in multicolored spots because the children happily used him as a living canvas. He realized he had gone too far when he saw puddles of red and blue paint spreading across the floor.

"Oh dear..."

That's when the door opened.

"What's going on here?!"

His wife's voice sounded like a thunderclap.

Mydei froze. The children did too.

She stood in the doorway, arms crossed, surveying the ransacked living room. The room resembled a battlefield. Pillows were scattered everywhere, chairs were on their sides, and the furniture... her beloved furniture was smeared with paint.

She slowly looked at him. Then at the children. Then back at him.

Silence fell. And then...

"Clean up. Everything. Immediately."

Mydei mechanically nodded.

"Yes, of course."

He didn't even try to argue.

The children whined, but he quickly leaned towards them and whispered, "If we hurry, we might survive."

They understood it wasn't a joke. The cleanup started instantly.

At first, the children tried to wash the paint off the floor, but it turned out to be harder than they thought. The stains wouldn't come off on the first try, and they kept leaving new marks while trying to remove the old ones.

Mydei was also working – picking up pillows, putting chairs back in place, and scrubbing the furniture, realizing he would be paying for this mess for a long time.

But despite everything, the atmosphere wasn't... that gloomy.

The children giggled, hiding behind the sofa, when Mydei clumsily tried to wipe paint off his hand and then accidentally smeared it on his face. Eventually, even he laughed when his son spilled a bucket of water while trying to mop the floor, and they all ended up in a puddle.

Even their mom, standing aside with a stern look, barely smiled, watching the chaos.

When the living room finally looked like a living room again, Mydei sighed and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes.

"It's done. We did it."

The children sighed in relief. He opened one eye and looked at his wife. She glanced at him, then sighed and shook her head.

"You're worse than the children, Mydei." He smirked.

"But you still love me." She rolled her eyes.

"Who said that?"

"I know."

And then she smiled. And he realized he had gotten off easy.

The house was too quiet. Anaxa immediately knew it wasn't a good sign.

Usually, the walls shook with the children's laughter, the rumble of running feet, the clatter of toys on the floor, and the whispers of conspirators plotting another prank. But now – suspicious silence. It could only mean one thing: something had happened.

He slowly moved down the hallway, listening. In the distance, a muffled giggle sounded, followed by the sound of something falling. Anaxa frowned.

When he looked into the living room, his gaze immediately fell upon the scene of chaos.

Pillows were scattered all over the room, books were thrown off the shelves, fresh drawings adorned the wall, and one of the children stood proudly on an overturned chair, like a conqueror of new lands. In the center of this mess, the youngest son, covered in flour from head to toe, and next to him, his daughter, whose hands were covered in paint.

"Dad!" she squealed happily, spotting him.

At that moment, someone grabbed his hand, and before he could react, a barrage of pillows fell on him. Blinking, he looked at the laughing children, who were clearly waiting for his reaction.

"What are you..." he began, but didn't finish. Someone accidentally bumped into a vase. It wobbled, and before Anaxa could catch it, it shattered.

There was a pause.

"Oops," the daughter mumbled guiltily.

Anaxa slowly ran his hand over his face, realizing the scale of the catastrophe. This was bad. Very bad.

And at that moment, his wife appeared in the doorway.

She froze, slowly surveying the room. Her gaze slid over the scattered books, overturned chairs, stained walls, shards of the vase, and finally, to the youngest son, who looked like he had just been rolled in flour.

Anaxa read everything in her eyes: fatigue, surprise, and the silent question – how? How could they turn the house into a battlefield in just a couple of hours?

But before she could say anything, the children started chattering, interrupting each other. One claimed they just wanted to decorate the room, another said the paint fell accidentally, and the third assured that it wasn't him at all.

Anaxa and his wife exchanged glances.

She sighed, pressing her lips together, as if deciding whether to give a lecture.

"Clean up," she finally said.

Anaxa mentally exhaled. He had expected something worse.

The children groaned in protest, but his wife had already turned and walked into the kitchen, leaving them to deal with the consequences.

"Well," Anaxa sighed, rolling up his sleeves. "Let's get to work."

At first, the cleanup was slow. The children grumbled, lazily picked up books, reluctantly scrubbed paint off the walls, and kept trying to resume the pillow fight. But gradually, it turned into a game: they competed to see who could clean up faster, who could stack more pillows, who could collect more books. Even the youngest son, still covered in flour, ran around with a rag, "cleaning."

Anaxa couldn't help but smile, watching their efforts.

When his wife returned, the room was already shining with order.

She appraised the room and nodded.

"Not bad," she admitted.

Anaxa theatrically wiped imaginary sweat from his forehead, and the children proudly puffed out their chests.

His wife shook her head, but, to everyone's surprise, she came over and ruffled the youngest son's hair.

"Next time, just ask if you want to decorate something, okay?" she said with a soft smile. The children nodded in unison.

Anaxa grinned. He knew that in this house full of noise, fun, and mischief, there would always be room for order. After all, the most important thing here is love.

The house fell into silence – a strange, unsettling silence, quite uncharacteristic of an ordinary day. But inside, there was real pandemonium.

The living room looked like a battlefield after a fierce fight. Blankets, pillows, soft toys – all of it was scattered on the floor, creating bizarre structures resembling fortresses. Paper flags adorned the walls, and in the middle of this chaos stood a man, looking around in confusion.

The culprits of this mess sat nearby – his children, who had already realized they had gone too far, but still hoped they could somehow get away with it. Their eyes sparkled with fun, but there was a slight anxiety behind it – what would Mom say when she saw this mess?

"Okay," he muttered to himself, surveying the aftermath of the game. "We'll clean it up."

But before he could do anything, the living room door swung open, and his wife appeared on the threshold.

She froze. She surveyed the room. Slowly, she looked at her husband, then at the children, then back at her husband.

He felt a chill inside.

There was a dead silence.

The children sat like statues, afraid to breathe. The husband even took a step back, as if trying to disappear into thin air.

"And how..." she slowly inhaled. "How did this happen?"

Her husband's guilty gaze darted around the room in search of an excuse, but besides the mess that prevailed everywhere, he found nothing that could save him.

"Um... we got a little carried away with the game?"

His wife closed her eyes, clearly holding back her emotions.

"'A little'?" she repeated, stretching out the words as if tasting them. He realized there was no chance of rescue.

"Okay!" he sighed, turning to the children. "We need to clean all this up, otherwise..."

"Otherwise Mom will make us live in boxes on the street?" one of the children asked timidly. Mom's eyes flashed.

"Not that harsh, but I'll consider it."

It worked. The mess, which seemed so harmless during the game, suddenly became a serious problem.

Work began.

The fortresses began to be dismantled into pieces, blankets returned to beds, toys – to boxes. The eldest son tried to find the culprit of the spilled juice, the youngest daughter ran around with a vacuum cleaner she could barely hold.

And the father? He stood in the middle of this hustle and bustle, holding a huge stack of pillows and blankets, trying in vain to figure out where to put them.

"I don't even remember where this was lying," he admitted, looking helplessly at his wife.

She just sighed, but a smile flickered at the corners of her lips.

"Give it here."

The work took longer than everyone expected. But at some point, the cleanup turned into a game – the children started laughing, throwing soft toys at each other, the husband played along, tossing pillows and pretending to accidentally fall into a blanket trap.

His wife watched them, trying to hide her smile. Yes, it was a nightmare in terms of order. But seeing them so happy... It was worth all the effort.

When everything was finally cleaned up, they collapsed onto the sofa – tired but satisfied.

Phainon turned to his wife, hoping for praise.

"Well? Everything's clean, right?"

She looked at him, slowly surveying the room.

"Almost," she replied, pointing to a lone pillow in the corner. He sighed heavily, got up, picked up the pillow, and with mock weariness, threw it onto the sofa.

"That's it, now for sure!"

His wife chuckled and covered the youngest daughter, who was already nodding off, with a blanket.

"Okay, I'll forgive you this time," she said, and then added with a sly look, "But next time, you clean up without my reminders."

The father and children exchanged glances.

"We'll see," he muttered, grinning.

And although this day was tiring, there was something truly warm and homely about it – fun, chaos, teamwork, and the family warmth that made even the biggest messes a trifle.

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #hsr #mydei x reader #hsr mydei #mydei #mydeimos #anaxa #honkai star rail anaxa #hsr anaxa #anaxagoras #anaxa x reader #hsr phainon #phainon #phainon x reader

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reverie-starlight · 1 year ago

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I miss knb and I wanted to write something for aomine :’) I’ve never written for him and it’s been a while since I’ve watched the show, so forgive me if you feel that his characterization is a bit off. hello from late january cause that’s when I’m queuing this 👋🏻

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. lots and lots and lots of fluffy pet names bc that’s the focus of the drabble. he calls you shnookums once just to annoy you bc he’s a little shit. that’s a warning in itself tbh. mentions of alcohol/drunk character. characters written as adults, not high schoolers.

aomine has specific nicknames for you depending on the situation you find yourselves in.

he reserves “babe” or some shortened variation of your name for when you’re in public.

it’s quick, it’s casual, and it doesn’t get him a lecture on why it’s not funny to very loudly address you as “shnookums” when you get separated at the grocery store.

(though in his defence, he thought it worked wonders. you were back at his side within seconds after straying too far on accident with a half embarrassed, half pissed off look on your face. he thought it was hilarious.)

~~~

he calls you “baby” when he greets you after a long day at work. when he’s picking you up from your classes. normally only in your presence, because he doesn’t need the teasing remarks about how soft he’s become from his teammates.

not that he really cares at the end of the day- he’ll call you what he wants to call you (provided you also like it, of course) but there’s something less casual about it that makes him want to keep it just for you.

that “something” being the time you got drunk and offhandedly mentioned loving the way it sounds in his voice. he now gets to enjoy the small, barely noticeable uptick of your lips whenever he opts for it. no one else gets to see that.

he’ll help you with your coat and press a kiss to your hairline, murmuring a soft “hey baby, missed you today”.

it’s probably the most common of the names he uses on you out of all the available options.

~~~

he saves the saccharine pet names for when he knows you’re not feeling your best. whether you’re mentally drained, physically exhausted or sick to any degree, there’s never not a time when hearing him be sickeningly sweet with you doesn’t ease the pain.

“need anything else, sweetheart?”

“how are you feeling, gorgeous?”

“yeah, we can cuddle, doll, c’mere.”

these are also the times he plays up the compliments (more than usual).

“even when you’re sick, you’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. don’t let it get to your head, though. or do- I know how to deal with that just fine, too.”

~~~

he doesn’t have one set nickname for you when you visit him at practice, but when you watch him play in an official game?

as long as you’ve known him, he’s never believed in luck- he got himself to where he is with his skills, luck had nothing to do with it.

so it surprises you the first time he refers to you as his good luck charm. it’s not said in some grand gesture, not brought up in those fluff promotional interviews when reporters ask him if he has one.

it’s whispered quietly into your ear before he jogs onto the court.

a murmured thank you against your lips as soon as he’s running off again, high on a win, straight to you.

you ask him about it one day and he just shrugs. “everything is different now. I play better when I know you’re watching, it’s energizing in a way I’ve never felt before. you’re right, I still don’t believe in luck, but somehow I was able to find you. and I don’t know if I would call that luck, either, but until I find a better way to explain it you’re just gonna have to put up with that title a bit longer.”

so you do, without complaints, because it’s cute trying to watch him convey his feelings honestly and still in a very aomine way.

~~~

your absolute favourite nickname that he’s given you, though? angel.

you’re his angel.

the title is first appointed when you pick him up one night from a bar after celebrating with his team. his usually brooding expression visibly lights up when he sees you and he makes his way over. it’s been a while since he’s been this drunk, so it makes you laugh when he stumbles over and throws an arm around your shoulders.

“what a sweetheart, you really came to pick me up?”

you scoff and try to get him into the car, waving at his teammates who were staying with him until you got there. “what, baby, you thought I wouldn’t?”

he shrugs with an absentminded grin. “it’s just nice to have a… battle angel or whatever that term is. I dunno what it is.”

you can’t help but laugh. “you mean a guardian angel?”

“same thing, you knew what I meant!” his words are slurred and he’s now leaning his entire body weight against you.

“oh you are so wasted, daiki, let’s get you home.”

and it’s whispered again at home as he’s falling asleep, “my angel… thank you for taking care of me tonight.”

your heart squeezes.

now it’s reserved for only the most intimate of moments with him- he doesn’t want to overuse the name and risk it losing its meaning.

because it does hold a deeper, unspoken meaning between the two of you.

after a long time apart because of his away games? after he wins an important match? loses a match and he’s thankful you’re there with him? you get a promotion at work? you pass a difficult class with flying colours? all situations where he’d call you angel.

he has a full arsenal of names for you, clearly, and you love every single one of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

this feels a bit messy. even after editing, I feel like the quality went down a bit, so we’ll see if I end up posting it. but I love him a lot and I’ve been rewatching knb, so I needed to do something for him to keep the brainrot at bay.

tagging: @dira333

#aomine x reader #aomine daiki x reader #aomine x reader fluff #daiki aomine x reader #aomine fluff #knb x reader #knb x reader fluff

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vanesycho · 7 months ago

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Hi hello 👋🏻 , can I request yuta fingering or fisting and overestimaulate his partner

this looks like it fits yuta , right?

author's note:i fucking love his fingers...I think he is really the type to drive his partner crazy by making them cum multiple times(just sayinggg) anyway thank you for your request🫶🏻 I hope it was as you wanted, enjoyyy🤍

warning:smut, fingering, overstimulating, dirty talk(?)

wc:0,8k

“Y-yuta...Please, I can’t take it anymore…” Yuta ignored your pleas once again. His fingers went in and out of your pussy to make you cum for the 4th time. You didn’t even have the strength to moan anymore, you just whimpered from the sensitivity and tears fell down your cheeks, Yuta leaned in and sucked on your clit, you moved your hips again with a teary voice. “Stay still.” He lifted his head and looked at you, his serious gaze alone making you shiver.

Yuta went back to destroying your pussy, curling his fingers and hitting your sensitive spot a few times but just when you were about to reach the point of pleasure and cum, he pulled his fingers out, you whined loudly. He looked at you ruined and grinned. Your tears had soaked your cheeks, the wetness of your pussy was seeping between your legs, you were exactly the consistency he wanted. He brought his fingers to your pussy but this time he took care of your clit before he put them inside you. He started stroking in circles, fingers were filled with your juices. “You can still cum, right, baby? I know you can.” You shook your head. “Too much… It’s too much. Please..”

He laughed hysterically. “How pathetic.” He licked his dry lips and moved closer to your neck, noticing that the marks he left from the previous time were slowly starting to fade away so he added new ones. You threw your head back, Yuta spread your legs that you were trying to close and spoke harshly against your neck. “Stop moving or this won’t be the end, understand? I’ll make you cum four more times, regardless of how much you cry.” You couldn’t answer, Yuta didn’t need it anyway. He easily slid three fingers into your pussy, leaned in and started licking your clit with light tongue movements. The pleasure you were getting from both sides increased your whimpering sounds, your voice reaching Yuta’s ears as he moaned into your pussy with pleasure.

“I'm gonna..Yuta-” one hand went to his hair, the desire to cum welling up inside you, and Yuta was ready to give it to you. He sped up his fingers and hit your pleasure point many times again, licking the extra flow of your juices and pulling back, leaving it to his fingers alone. “Are you going to cum again? It’s so sweet how pathetic and eager you are for my fingers, baby. Now cum again and make me happy once more, hm?” In no time, your cum was once again covering Yuta’s fingers, he pulled it out of his fingers and licked it. You closed your eyes tiredly, letting out a deep breath. But opened again when you felt movement next to you and looked at Yuta who was sitting next to you, seeing his smirk on his face. “Come here.”

He patted his lap, you stopped at first, but you knew Yuta would get mad if you didn’t, so you got on his lap, he turned you over and laid you down sideways on his lap. Started caressing your ass, leaned down and gave them a few bites and kisses. Then his hand moved between your legs, you held your breath for a moment, "Not again..Please," He put one finger inside you, his other hand roamed the curves of your body. "Every time you complain I'll make you cum again, maybe this way you'll stop defying me?" Yuta put a second finger in and without waiting he sped up his hand. He looked at how your hips moved as his two fingers moved quickly and smiled slightly.

You moved your hips needily, something inside you was between pleasure and sensitivity and it was driving you crazy. You felt close to cumming again, you pushed your hips into his fingers with desire, you were about to reach your point of pleasure, your pussy tightened around Yuta’s fingers. But he stopped as you felt close to cumming, you let out a whine, Yuta slowed down his movements. “So much complaining and whining, but then you shamelessly push your hips against my fingers to cum.” He started to hit your pleasure point slowly, you felt your eyes fill with tears again. “Such a naughty but needy slut.” He grinned to himself and sped up his fingers again.

The same feeling took over your body again, you felt close to cumming again and this time you begged him not to stop. Yuta listened to all your pleas with pleasure and gave you what you wanted. Wetness was seeping from your pussy, making Yuta lick his lips, one hand holding you by your waist so you wouldn’t move. His fingers continued to ravage you, you arched your back, moaning almost in tears as your pleasure spot was hit nonstop. Then your body relaxed, you came onto his fingers once more, releasing your clenched body. Yuta pulled his fingers out of you, licking the juices from your pussy clean and sucking it all off. He looked at how exhausted you were and patted your ass lightly a few times. “You better rest, because the swelling underneath you isn’t going to go down on its own.”

#nct imagines #nct reactions #nct 127 #nct smut #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 smut #nct 127 scenarios #nct yuta imagines #yuta imagines #nct yuta #yuta nakamoto #yuta smut #nct yuta smut #nct scenarios

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cherry-holmes · 11 months ago

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REGRET

Part 1

(Javier Peña x F!Reader)

Credits of the gif on the image.

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Finding out you’re pregnant create a split between you and Javier. He soon will discover that one can regret they own words.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

Word count: +3k

Warnings: Writer prefer to not give details to prevent spoilers. Read under your own responsibility.

A/N: Hello👋🏻 This is a little something that came to my mind when a saw this gifs last week🧍🏻‍♀️ Let me know in comments if you like it👀

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Javier and you have been dating for a year and a half now. It started as something casual. You were just neighbors, then you used to talk about the weather when you crossed paths in the building. Then, he invited you for a drink, and you ended up in his bed.

He told you he was a DEA agent, and you talked about your community service as an English teacher in Bogotá.

Javier was funny and charming. He always treated you like a princess and fucked you like a slut. He was attentive, but he worked a lot. You never seriously talked about what exactly you were, but you spent much more time at his place than yours. He hadn't given you a key, precisely, but he told you he had a copy on top of his door so you could enter when you arrive and he was still at work. He picked you up from the school, and you cut his hair when needed.

Life had been busy, and you never really stopped to ask him if your relationship had a label. The truth is, neither of you had actually stopped and asked each other what would come next when he caught Escobar and/or you finished your community service.

You never thought about it, until that damn morning.

"Fuck."

It can't be happening. Two lines on a pregnancy test were the last thing you needed. You looked at it for a long, long time, trying to process what was going on. You wanted a blood test to confirm, but there's a reason why you already took a pee test. Morning sickness and a delay in your period activated the alarms. You hadn't told Javier anything yet, but it was only a matter of time now.

That afternoon you went to the laboratory, and by noon you received a phone call confirming the results. You were, indeed, very pregnant. After you hung up the phone, you cried a lot. How were you going to tell Javi? What would you do with your job? What were you going to tell your parents? Did you really want to have it... him/her?

You felt the urgency to make a decision in that very moment. Javier was going to ask you when you told him, and you knew he hated the "I don't know."

It took you one, two, three hours, and you had an answer. You knew it was the right one because you thought it would take you a lot longer to decide. But when your heart landed in the same place over and over so quickly, you simply knew it.

Javier came home late at night, but earlier than usual. He looked tired and pissed, and he let his weight fall on the kitchen chair to devour what you had made for dinner. You looked at him the entire time, and the nervousness in your chest made it impossible to eat anything. You wanted to tell him. You couldn't contain the news any longer.

"Javi," you began. He didn't look at you for more than a second before his sleepy eyes fell on his plate again. "I have something to tell you. It's very important."

"What is it, babe?" he asked, his voice slurred.

"I..." You fought the lump in your throat, encouraging yourself to tell him. "I'm pregnant."

Until that moment, you didn't know what you expected. You didn't imagine him crying with emotion and jumping around the apartment, screaming to the four winds that he was going to be a dad. But you didn't imagine what his real reaction would be, either.

Javier didn't even look at you. He dropped his fork, leaned back in his chair, and passed his hands over his face. It wasn't a surprised, emotional reaction. He was pissed. He was cursing the situation.

You didn't say anything as you felt your heart and soul sink into your stomach. Disappointment washed over you as you saw his reaction. You tried to think of something else to say, but you went blank.

"We can't," he finally said, really looking at you for the first time that night.

"What do you mean we can't?" your voice was only a whisper.

He looked at you like you were crazy. "You're not seriously thinking about having it."

Your mouth went dry, but tears welled up in your eyes. "Well... I do."

Javier's face hardened. "It's not safe, not with what I do, not with Escobar still out there."

"We can figure this out together," you said, your voice quivering. "I-I know this country is dangerous and this is probably not the right time, but is already happening and I..."

"Are you sure you're...?" he began. It hurt you the fact that he couldn't even say it.

You stood up and reached for your purse. He saw you as you placed both the pee and the blood test in front of him.

"Puta madre." Javier stood up, pacing the kitchen. "Did you take the pills?" he demanded.

You nodded. "I do. But they're not a hundred percent effective."

He ran his fingers through his hair in an almost desperate gesture. "I can't do this. Parenting is not on my plans, and you know it."

"I didn't want this to happen either, Javier, and I'm sorry," you said, trying not to cry. "But you need to people to make a baby. So, we have to figure this out together."

"Don't complicate things more," he added. He made his way to the living room, pacing like a caged animal. "Think about the consequences. I can't risk my focus on this job for this."

Tears streamed down your face. "So, what? You want me to get rid of it?"

"I think it's the best option for both of us."

After a long, cold moment of silence, you shook your head, stepping back. "I can't believe you."

He sighed heavily, looking away. "You don't understand... it's too dangerous."

"I don't care," you cried. "I'm gonna have this baby. With or without you."

He sighed. He saw the determination on you. Now he needed to make a decision, since you're not going to change yours.

"Ok," he said finally. "It will happen, but you need to go back to the States."

"No," you sentenced. Javier couldn't believe your stubbornness. "I'm not going to leave, either. I can't leave the school. Those kids need my help."

He was doing his best to not completely lost his patience and say something (more) that he could – and will – regret.

"I can't concentrate on my job and take care of a pregnant woman," he sentenced, adding your name at the end in a way you had never heard before.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice. "Well, then don't worry about me. I can handle this on my own."

Javier stared at you, his eyes dark with frustration. He thought of his parents. They didn't raise a man who shirks responsibility, one who doesn't own the consequences of his actions.

For a long moment, the only sound was the ticking of the clock on the kitchen wall. Finally, Javier sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"No," he said. "If that's what you want, fine. You'll have my financial support, but that's all. As soon as you finish your community service, you'll go back home. I'll send you money, that's it."

"I don't want anything from you, Javier. Not if you're not going to do it with real love," you whispered, heartbroken.

Javier's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue. He turned away, staring at the wall, his hands clenched into fists.

He looked down, unable to meet your gaze. "I never saw myself as a dad. I don't think I ever will," he admitted. "That's all I can offer. I'm sorry it's not what you expected. I'm sorry I can't be the man you need."

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Days turned into weeks, and your relationship with Javier seemed to be stuck in a constant struggle of awkward interactions and avoiding each other. He started working even later, and sometimes he didn't even spend the night at the apartment. He came back the next morning smelling like whiskey and cigarettes. When he did sleep at home, he took the couch while you slept on his bed. When you woke up in the morning, he wasn't there.

Both of you finally reached an agreement. You recognized that you needed his help, and he was aware that he had to be responsible for the situation. You moved in with Javier so you wouldn't have to waste money paying rent. Moreover, you would return to the US when you were seven months pregnant. He would conclude his duty in Colombia however long it took. Neither of you wanted to talk about what would happen then.

Your belly was now thirteen weeks along. Soon, Javier found his place filled with baby stuff. Every day he discovered something new you had bought: tiny clothes, maternity clothing, maternity books. His bathroom smelled like the body cream you used to apply on your belly, and there was a list of pregnancy-friendly foods hung on the refrigerator. He could tell you were putting your heart into preparing for the baby, and at times he felt guilty for not being able to find his own paternal instinct.

On the contrary, you were caught in a fragile rhythm. He continued his dangerous work, and you dedicated yourself to your work at school.

Nights were still lonely, but at least you had your baby. You talked and sang to them. You applied anti-stretch mark creams to your belly, and read everything about babies and labor. You were excited to meet your baby boy or girl, but sadly, at the same time, you felt heartbroken because you loved Javier, and you wished he was more present during the process. However, you had to accept that it wasn't mutual. He didn't love you; he never truly did and probably never would. He just liked to fuck. You should have known it before. Maybe you did, but you were so in love with him that you thought you could change him. Either way, it was too late now.

Javier gave you more money than you needed to cover everything you needed. He never said no when you told him you needed medicine, to pay for a doctor's appointment, or special food that didn't provoke nausea.

But he never went to those appointments with you. He never asked how they went, either. He never showed any interest in the progress of your pregnancy. It was as if he had completely detached himself from the situation, leaving you to navigate the journey alone.

Or at least, that was how you saw it. The truth was, Javier was having a difficult time processing the fact that he would be a father. He had never seen himself getting married, let alone having children.

Furthermore, there was something terrifying about having a baby in Colombia during the war he was fighting. He had witnessed men fall, leaving widows and orphans behind.

He realized that he was more scared of leaving you and his child alone in this chaotic and unfair world if something happened to him. Or worse, he feared that you have to pay for his sins and mistakes. He couldn't bear the thought of that, and he often had nightmares about losing you both.

He didn't know how to express his feelings for you. He couldn't let himself relax and just settle into the nest with you.

One of those nights, when he decided to come home earlier after work, he found you sleeping in bed. You had an open book beside you on a page about what to expect during the second trimester. You had fallen asleep in an awkward position, so he had to gently wake you up to help you move into a more comfortable one. You mumbled in your sleep, calling his name softly and sweetly. Javier felt warmth in his chest, a need to cuddle with you, touch your belly for the first time, and hold you and the baby close.

But he just couldn't do it. He didn't know why, but he couldn't. He limited himself to tucking you in with a warm blanket and opening the window for fresh air, as you liked it. He went to the kitchen, filled a glass with water, and put it on your nightstand because he knew you got thirsty in the middle of the night.

Javier observed you for a moment, peacefully sleeping, carrying his baby. He missed your soft lips and your fingers in his hair. He missed making you laugh and talking to you about each other's days. And now, he longed to make things right and try to win your heart back.

Tomorrow, he said. Turning down the lights, he went to his place on the couch.

But tomorrow was too late.

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

He left early in the morning to attend an emergency meeting at the Embassy. Steve spend all morning complaining about Messina and the tie-and-suit motherfuckers, but Javier's thoughts were on you.

He was lost on his own thoughts, trying to find the right words to tell you. He was still scared, but he was determined to try. To make it work.

He was on his desk, a report on his hands but he wasn't reading it, when his landline rang.

"Peña," he picked up.

"Is this Javier?" a woman's voice asked urgently.

"Who's this?"

"This is María from the school," she said. He immediately knew something was wrong. He barely remembered María, you had presented each other last year on your birthday.

"There's been an emergency," she continued explaining, anguish filling her voice. "She's been taken to the hospital."

Javier's heart dropped. "Is she okay?"

"She collapsed in class. They think it might be related to her pregnancy. You need to get to the hospital as soon as you can."

Javier didn't waste a second. He grabbed his jacket and bolted out of the Embassy, ignoring Steve's confused shouts. The drive to the hospital was a blur, his mind racing with fear.

What happened? You were fine last night... Didn't you? He felt a pang of guilt. What if you didn't felt well but you didn't say anything because you thought he would be mad? Fuck... He should be more available for you. You should trust him.

When he finally arrived at the hospital, he rushed to the reception desk, asking for your name. The nurse nodded and directed him to the emergency room. His heart pounded as he approached the doors, dread settling in his stomach.

He found you lying on a hospital bed, pale and hooked up to monitors. The doctor was speaking to a nurse nearby. Javier's throat tightened as he stepped closer.

The doctor noticed him and approached. "Are you related?"

"Yes, how is she?" Javier asked, his voice shaky.

The doctor sighed. "I'm sorry to inform you, but she lost the baby. There was nothing we could do. It was a miscarriage."

Javier felt like the ground had been ripped out from under him. He looked at your unconscious form, tears welling up in his eyes. "Can I see her?"

"Of course, but she's sleeping right now," the doctor said gently. "She's stable now, but you had to sedate her. This has been very traumatic for her."

Javier nodded and moved to your bedside. He took your hand in his, feeling the weight of his own failures crashing down on him. He had failed to protect you, to be there when you needed him the most.

Hours passed as he sat by your side, holding your hand and watching you sleep. When you finally stirred and opened your eyes, he was there. His eyes were teary, reddened from his contained emotions.

"Hey," he whispered, placing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I'm here," he said, squeezing your hand. "I'm so sorry. I should have been there. I should have done more."

You closed your eyes, tears slipping down your cheeks. "I lost my baby." Your voice was barely a whisper, little sobs escaping your lips. You were still in a haze of sedatives and mourning.

Javier nodded, his heart breaking at the pain in your voice. "I know. I'm so, so sorry."

"No, you don't," you said, hurt and anger painting your weak voice. "You didn't want my baby."

"I was scared," he confessed, his voice cracking. "I didn't know how to handle any of this. But I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted to lose our baby."

You shook your head, tears streaming like rivers down your cheeks. The gaze you gave him was filled with anger and resentment, piercing through his chest.

"Fuck you," you cried.

Javier flinched as if you had struck him. He looked away, unable to bear the intensity of your anger and sorrow.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again, his voice barely audible.

"You never be there for us, so don't come and say you're sorry," your words melted into an unstoppable crying. You felt like if your heart would literally broke into a million pieces. Grief and exhaustion weighing heavily on you, you felt an overwhelming sense of emptiness.

"I know I can't make this right. I know I failed you. But please, let me be here for you now," he pleaded, but there was nothing he could say to soothe your unbearable pain.

"You're a piece of shit, Javier," you spat, your voice trembling with anger and grief. "I don't want to see you ever again."

You turned away from him, your tears flowing freely.

He lingered for a moment, hoping for some sign of forgiveness, but when none came, he slowly left the room, closing the door behind him.

He stood in the hallway, leaning against the wall, feeling the crushing weight of his failures. He had lost not only his child but also the trust and love of the woman who meant more to him than he had ever admitted.

Part 2

#javier peña fic #javier pena fanfiction #pedro pascal #fanfic #narcos #pedro pascal x reader #imagina javier peña #javier pena imagine #javier pena fic #javierpeña #javier pena narcos #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x female reader

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thoughts-reasons · 2 years ago

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Like a rainbow with all of the colors

#did you have fun? 😉#it's called personalization haha if it makes you feel better sure believe™️ it 🤣#harmless silly little rituals #didn't i share a lifetime ago that it would be two years on the road?#isn't everything obvious in hindsight? 🤪🍀#hello again 👋🏻#yes she sold out foro sol too #today should be her largest ever it's expected to be double the size of the mita crowd #we watched her video this am it was funny rip bows™️ 🤣#yes fishtail was one of her nicknames 🐺#🎶cause i maybe bad but i'm perfectly good at it🎶#i mean if that story is true then she has got to be the shittiest wife that ever wifed 🤷🏻‍♀️#they want the happily ever after no matter how toxic or moronic that scenario is 🤷🏻‍♀️#that's comedy🥂#kermit's mailbag the evil laugh training session edition #originanon

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igotlovestruck · 2 years ago

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right where you left lover girl [ charles leclerc , ben chilwell ]

[ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 ] — charles leclerc x singer!ex!reader ; ben chilwell x singer!reader . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ 🫂 °. *

[ 𝗗𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗦 & 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ] — mostly angst, some romance . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ ℹ️ °. *

࣪˖ 💭 .. 𝗘𝗬𝗔’𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 ⌕ clearing my drafts again 😵‍💫 if you ask me, i’m obsessed with singer!reader fics lol

this work is purely fictional. names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. © httpsuniverse, 2023. do not steal, repost in other platforms, translate and/or claim this work as your own.

cleclercsource

26,929 likes

cleclercsource double date in wimbledon 🎾 charles, alex, kika and pierre spotted in today’s game!

view all 2,719 comments

user alex looks so pretty and i know she’s nice because i met her once, but i miss y/n ☹️

user :(( i do too, but it’s just not meant to be. they both want different things and are in different places in the relationship

user damn why did THAT hurt

user no offense/hate towards alex but the fact that y/n and charles have been together since they were thirteen just...pains me and i’m not even part of their relationship

user me too!! 😭 they literally went through ups and downs together and saw their careers go big :(

user yeah but i hate to break it to you guys but it’s been two years since they broke up and charles being in a new relationship is okay, they’re both adults! i mean, you guys know that eventually they’ll meet somebody, no?

user what pains me the most is that y/n hasn’t released anything since she and charles broke hp 😣💔 i miss my girl

user they look like mean girls

user i would be scared to walk past them

user love how alex is just happy to be there hahaha she’s so cute

yourusername

liked by yourlabel, sabrinacarpenter, selenagomez and 3,286,048 others

yourusername oh hi hello 👋🏻 i know it’s been a while since i’ve last released music and contributed to the industry, and i see everyone’s tweets saying how much they miss me and guess what? i missed you guys too, so here’s a little something for being so patient with me🤎 this song is very personal and important to me and i hope you’ll love it just how i loved writing it. right where you left me is now available to all streaming platforms 🎶

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sabrinacarpenter 🫶 masterpiece

selenagomez proud of you✨😍

user omg y/n!!!

user the queen is back :( welcome back y/n!!

user streaming right NOW

user you cant do this to me y/n y/l/n!!!!!!!

user just got out of a 4-year relationship today, thanks for the masterpiece maam <3

yourusername 🤎 wish you all the best with healing

user OMG

user thanks y/n, now i do have a reason to cry today 😍

yourusername stopp bahahaha enjoyyy

prodbymika

250,297 likes

prodbymika glad to have produced another song and film a music video with my bestie 🫶 here’s some behind the scenes of y/n during recording and filming the music video of right where you left me <3

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yourusername mika my love!!! ☹️🤎 thank youu couldn’t have done it without youuuu 🫶

user wait that place on the 3rd photo is familiar

user it’s charles and y/n’s place from their 24 hour with vogue video 😭

user omfg that’s probably why it’s titled right where you left me 😭

user the 😭 restaurant 😭 she 😭 and 😭 charles 😭 loved 😭

user fuck me im trying to move on 😭

user y/n wearing the same clothes she would wear during date nights with charles 💔☹️

yourprivate

yourprivate i know eventually it will lead to one of us meeting someone new. i hope she’ll love you the way that i did, more than how i loved you, charles. and i can’t believe that it’s been two years since we broke up. in my mind i’m still 23, living in my own delusion that one day you’ll come back to me. i loved you, charles_leclerc. and i still do. i really meant it when i said i wish you both the best. now, it’s time for me to move on and leave the place where you left me.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ─────────────────

yourusername

1,926,472 likes

yourusername me doing big girl things 😄 bye bye monaco 🇲🇨, hello london 🇬🇧 ready to make new memories, new songs and of course, new apartment tour video soon :p

view all 1,827 comments

user omggggggg the chances of me running to you are HIGHHHHH

yourusername see you aroundddd <3

user AAAAAAA

user omg omg omg she’s finally out of her delusions, we’re officially over right were you left me era !!!!!!

user she finally let go of the house she and charles shared 😭

user no bc imagine the adjustment!! she lived there even when she and charles broke up :(

user my girl can finally FINALLY breathe

benchilwell

liked by masonmount, reecejames, judebellingham and others

benchilwell you’re my, my, my, my lover 🩷

view all 23,816 comments

jackgrealish mate, that’s so cheesy 😂

reecejames i know something you don’t 🤧

masonmount i know something you will never know 😂

user NAHHHH QUIT PLAYING WITH US

user NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

user cong😭ratu😭lations😭

user now who is the lucky woman 🤔

user wait is that y/n

user what the hell

user i think soo!!!!

user STOP IM GONNA FUCKING CRY RN

yourusername

liked by cmpulisic, reecejames, masonmount, benchilwell and others

yourusername guys meet my london boy 🩷

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benchilwell i told you not to post that picture of me

yourusername 😵‍💫 but you looked so cute and you helped me compose a song

masonmount he did? 😨

yourusername took us a while, but yep 🫡

user im so happy for you y/n!!!!

— ❤️ by yourusername

user why is y/n, a person who loves chinese food, dating a man who hasn’t eaten chinese food

yourusername don’t worry, i bought chinese the other day. he’s no longer chinese food virgin. i took his virginity.

benchilwell y/n y/l/n.

yourusername 😚 you liked it though

benchilwell okay fine yeah

user why do i feel like a new album will come out ...

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, benchilwell, prodbymika and 4,836,917 others

yourusername suprise (well... not so surprise haha) !! been working on this album the past year and it’s finally here and i can’t wait to share it with you guys so HERE YA GO 🩷😚 the whole album is dedicated to, of course, my lover, my benji, benchilwell i love youuuu and this album is my love letter to you (you spoiled the lyrics on your previous post 🙄 but its ok i forgive u now pls come back faster bc i miss u) enjoy everyone ! lover girl, y/n 🩷✨

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benchilwell i love you angel 🩷

yourusername stopp im shy i miss you

benchilwell 😂 im coming over

user y/n in her lover era 🥹 happy for her, she deserves this!

user she really does 🥹

user STOPPP THIS WJOLE ALBUM IS JUST Y/N AND BEN BEING IN LOVENWITH EACH OTHER

user “all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing” BENJAMIN JAMES CHILWELL YOU ONE LUCKY MF

user y/n is SO in love i’m here for it

charles_leclerc congratulations on another amazing album, y/n!

yourusername thank you charles! 🫶

user HEY WHAT IS MR. RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME DOING HERE

user ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

yourusername we’re still friends guys, chill 😂

sabrinacarpenter YOU ARE AMAZING, Y/N

yourusername SAAAABBBB i love you ,, you are amazing

user from right where you left me to paper rings 🥺 THE GLOW UP

#charles leclerc imagine #ben chilwell imagine #charles leclerc angst #ben chilwell fluff #charles leclerc instagram au #ben chilwell instagram au #f1 imagine #football imagine #f1 fan fic #football fanfic #f1 x you #football x you #f1 x reader #football x reader #formula 1 imagine #football instagram au #f1 instagram au

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ernestoesquer · 4 months ago

Text

Roses in Small Vase, 2024. Tea toned gelatin silver print.

Oh and hello again. 👋🏻

#photography #photographers on tumblr #film photography #black and white photography #artists on tumblr #35mm #still life #memento mori #visual poetry #flowers #darkroom #analog photography #analog #35mm film photography #medium format #art gallery #art curator

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endofthelinegang · 1 month ago

Note

hello 👋🏻 how are you? As a request how might Frank would react finding out that his gf worked as a model but only to pay the school where she studied? Yes, like Izzie Stevens 😅, my imagination has no limits 😂 ofc it's up to you, if you don't like the idea, pls feel free to ignore this :)

first of all I LIVE for an izzy stephens reference, so you know i had to whip this out, and frank too?? ik your anonymouse but i love you so much you do not even know. anyway guys while i bite my fist over the punisher here is this:

Frank finds the pictures by accident.

It starts with something small.

Your phone buzzes on the couch, lighting up the dim apartment with a soft glow. His own phone is dead, left charging by the bedside, and without thinking, he reaches for yours. Instinct considering you always give him your phone since you rarely wear pants with pockets.

But when the screen wakes, it’s a text, from a friend of yours he assumes. He doesn’t know what to expect when he opens the message but he shook his head once before looking again. It was a picture of you.

Not the you he knows—the one tangled in his sheets in the morning, hair a mess that you toss about before even consider brushing it out, mumbling something about coffee before you can form a full sentence. Not the one who steals his hoodies, drags him through “girly shit” just to watch his reactions, laughs at his terrible jokes even when he barely cracks a smile himself.

No, this version of you is something else entirely.

Draped in silk. Skin polished and plastic looking beneath the studio lights, eyes lined dark, lips parted just enough to be suggestive with a beautiful dark sultry color on your lips. There’s something distant in the way you look at the camera, something almost untouchable, like the flash of a blade just before it cuts.

Frank stares.

The photo shifts, the album scrolling of its own accord, showing him another.

And another.

He sees all of them, because apparently your little girlfriend thought it was a genius idea to joke with you about these memories.

A spread from some high-fashion magazine. An editorial, glossy and cold, the kind of thing rich men drink scotch over, admiring the artistry of a body like it’s just another piece of fine art.

Frank’s stomach knots.

His pulse hammers—too fast, too tight—but he doesn’t move. He just sits there, phone heavy in his hands, dragging his gaze over each frame like he might be able to feel what you felt in those moments.

The precision of your posture.

The weight of someone else’s vision pressed into you.

The way you aren’t there in your own body.

It hits him all at once.

You modeled.

Not for fun. Not for passion.

For money.

And you never told him.

The thought burns.

He sets the phone down carefully—too carefully, like if he isn’t, something in him might snap. His jaw ticks, teeth grinding as he presses his hands against his knees, grounding himself in the feeling of rough denim, something real, something tangible.

He isn’t mad.

He just—

Fuck.

He’s something.

The sound of water cuts off down the hall. The bathroom door creaks, hinges a little warped from age, and then you step into the room, towel wrapped around you, hair dripping dark rivulets down your bare shoulders.

You smile when you see him, soft and easy, like the sight of him alone is enough to make you happy.

It shouldn’t make his chest tighten the way it does.

“Hey,” you murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple. The warmth of you lingers even after you pull away, but Frank doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe, just watches as you grab your phone.

He waits for you to notice.

For that smile to drop.

For the shift, the tell—

You don’t.

You don’t even see it.

“What’s up?” you ask, voice light, casual, still wrapped in that post-shower drowsiness. You could tell something was wrong, he was just staring, not even at your but at your hand, at your phone. Which was very out of character for him.

Frank exhales slowly, steadying his voice. “You ever gonna tell me you used to be a model?”

The air in the room changes.

It’s instant. Subtle.

Like the drop in temperature before a storm, before the first crack of thunder splits the sky. Your eyes go wide and you are the one staring at your phone no longer able to look at Frank.

Your fingers tighten around the phone. Just a fraction. Your breath catches—not much, barely there—but Frank feels it, hears it in the way your body stills, like prey caught in the open.

“…How’d you find out?”

His eyes flick to the phone. “It was open.”

You inhale sharply through your nose, head tilting just slightly. Frank knows that look. It’s the same one people wear when they’re deciding how much truth they can afford to spill. You honestly were not sure what to say because you had not seen exactly what he had.

“I mean,” you say, “it wasn’t exactly—”

“Don’t.” His voice is quiet. Firm. “Don’t play it off.”

Your lips press together. You hesitate, the beat between seconds stretching long enough that Frank can hear the weight of it.

“…It paid for school,” you say finally.

Frank’s stomach drops.

You shift, like you’re waiting for him to react, waiting for him to pass some kind of silent judgment.

But all he can think about is you—you, alone, standing in front of that camera, doing whatever the hell you had to just to claw your way out of something that didn’t want to let you go.

That gives him a prickly sting in his chest.

“Sweetheart.” His voice is rough now, thick, something breaking open in his chest. “You think I’d look at you different? That I’d—I dunno, think less of you for it?”

You say nothing.

And that silence?

That tells him everything.

Frank leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “That why you never told me?” His voice is softer now, the edge dulled with something worse than anger—hurt. “You think I’d see you like some kinda—”

“I don’t know, Frank,” you cut in, voice suddenly sharp. Defensive. “You—you live in a world where people don’t just do things because they have to. You see the worst in people all the time, and I didn’t—I didn’t want you to see me like that.”

His chest aches.

Like that?

Like what?

Like someone who survived? Like someone who did what they had to?

His jaw tightens. “Like less.”

You shift, arms crossing over your stomach like you’re physically holding yourself together.

“I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t good enough for you,” you admit, voice small.

Frank physically recoils.

His fingers twitch against his knees, grip tightening like he’s holding himself back from breaking something.

“You think you’re not good enough for me?”

You let out a humorless laugh. “I mean…look at you.”

Frank stares at you. He cannot believe what he is hearing, in fact it sounds like nonsense.

Then, without thinking, he grabs your hands and throws your phone down into the bed. Not rough, not hard, but firm, pressing it flat against his chest—against the scarred, ruined skin beneath his shirt.

“I ain't the one who spent their life doin’ something clean,” he says, voice rough with something raw and aching. “I ain't the one who pulled myself outta somethin’ just to make my life better. I don’t—I can’t have that.”

His fingers tighten around yours, grounding himself in the feel of your pulse against his.

“But you?” He shakes his head, voice thick, like he’s trying to force something down that just won’t go. “You’re the onlything in my life that ain’t broken.”

You let out a shaky breath, eyes glassy, and Frank feels the way your walls start to crack. Then, slowly, finally, you lean into him.

It’s not a dramatic fall, not some grand collapse—just a slow, quiet surrender, like your body was waiting for permission to stop holding itself together. You press your forehead against his shoulder, and he exhales, deep and steady, like he’s letting go of something too.

For a while, neither of you says anything.

The room is warm, quiet except for the soft buzz of the streetlights outside and the faint creak of the old apartment as it settles. Frank shifts slightly, adjusting his hold on you, tucking you against his chest like he’s keeping you from slipping through his fingers.

And then, after a long beat of silence—

“So, uh…” His voice comes out low, and rough, but there’s something else beneath it now, something lighter. “You ever wear that little red dress for me, or is that just a special occasion?”

You freeze for half a second, then pull back just enough to look at him. The sheer audacity of it makes your mouth drop open.

“Frank.”

He shrugs, barely holding back a smirk, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. “What?”

“You cannot—” You slap his chest, not hard, but enough to make him huff out something that’s almost a laugh.

“Hey, I’m just sayin’.” He lifts a hand, resting it at the small of your back, fingers tracing absentminded circles over your spine. “You already got me wrapped around your damn finger. Might as well use it.”

You shake your head, pressing your face against his shoulder to hide the way your mouth twitches. “You’re unbelievable.”

He hums, and you can feel his lips moving against your hair when he says, “Nah. Just lucky as hell.”

His arm tightens around you, holding you there—close, safe, his. And even though he’s still got that rough, teasing drawl in his voice, there’s something else underneath it, something real.

Because yeah, he might joke. He might take the tension and twist it into something softer, something easier to hold.

But the way he looks at you? The way he touches you like you matter?

That tells you everything you need to know.

And maybe, just maybe—you’re lucky too.

#frank castle x you #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle #frank castle x y/n

84 notes · View notes

corroded-hellfire · 11 months ago

Note

Hello 👋🏻 for pre Eliza #ayw requests

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=e0Y8tmRYYiA

I saw this video and it gave me an idea for As You Wish……Eddie and Reader take younger Ryan and Luke to a real life Hot Wheels show. I think this would blow Luke’s mind and Ryan’s brain would be trying to work out how it works. 🙂

Luke would LOVE THIS. It makes me so happy that you saw this and thought of him! I was trying to think of something for Luke’s birthday and this is just absolutely perfect for it. Thank you so much for sending it in!

Words: 5.6k

[As You Wish masterlist]

When Eddie first came across the advertisement for the Real-Life Hot Wheels Show in Indianapolis, he immediately knew that he wanted to take his youngest son to it. Both sons, of course, but the youngest is crazier about the small toy cars by far.

When Eddie saw that this show happened to be two days before Luke’s birthday, it felt like fate. The little boy’s fifth birthday was on Monday, and Saturday just happened to be the day of the big event in the big city about an hour away. Eddie immediately snatched up the phone and dialed the number printed in large, bold orange letters on the bottom of the flyer to purchase four tickets.

In March, when the tickets had been purchased, Brittany had said there would be no problem with her coming along with her three boys to celebrate the special day. But as the week of Luke’s birthday in May approaches, suddenly, her tone has changed.

“What do you want me to say, Eddie?” Brittany gripes. “I have to work.”

“You had plenty of time to get the day off!”

“Maybe you should’ve reminded me a little sooner,” she snaps back.

“Wouldn’t think I’d have to fucking remind you when your son’s birthday is.”

Now Eddie has an extra ticket that he isn’t sure what to do with. Wayne wouldn’t be able to sit on the metal bleachers because of his back. Steve wouldn’t want to go while his sons are left behind at home. And it wouldn’t be fair to bring just one of the Harrington sons and not the other. Plus, there is no way that Eddie would be able to handle both of his boys plus a Harrington kid all on his own.

There’s someone Eddie wants to invite to be the fourth person, but he’s not sure if it would be appropriate or not to bring it up. Thankfully, Ryan adores you almost as much as his father does, and practically asks the question for him.

“Daddy!” Ryan stage whispers the moment Eddie walks through the door after work the Monday before Luke’s birthday.

The older man raises an eyebrow at his son as he tosses his keys down on the small table he passes on his way into the living room. He kicks his black chunky boots off and scratches at his scruff with dirt-stained fingertips.

“What’s up, kiddo?” Eddie asks.

Ryan looks around to make sure Luke is still in the bathroom.

“I had an idea for Luke’s birthday!”

Before Eddie gets the chance to inquire further, you stroll in from the kitchen and Eddie finds himself smiling like a teenager with a secret crush. The cuffs of your denim shorts that brush the middle of your thighs are so tempting to stare at, but Eddie forces himself to keep his eyes on your face—though that’s no hard feat with how gorgeous he finds you.

“Hey, Eddie,” you greet, and your boss feels as if he could melt on the spot just by the sound of your voice. “How was work?”

“You know,” he says with a shrug, trying to shake off any trace of fluster, “same old, same old. How were the rugrats?”

“Little Tasmanian devils,” you tease.

“Afraid that comes with the last name ‘Munson,’” Eddie says with a dramatic sigh. His words make you giggle and a fluttering in his stomach threatens to take Eddie airborne.

“Daddy!” Ryan rasps again, this time a little more urgently. He marches over to his father who picks him up and holds him against his toned jumpsuit-clad chest.

“What?”

“I think I know who should come with us on Saturday,” Ryan says, a smile that’s a blend of mischievous and prideful lighting up his face.

“Oh yeah? Who’s that?” Eddie asks.

Instead of responding verbally, Ryan turns his head until he’s grinning in your direction. The conversation between the two Munsons clearly confuses you as Eddie watches you tilt your head and raise your eyebrows in question.

“What’s Saturday?”

Eddie opens his mouth to respond, but a loud pitter-patter coming down the hallway has the man clamping shut to avoid spoiling the surprise.

“Daddy!” Luke cheers as he runs into the room.

“There’s the troublemaker,” Eddie says as Ryan wiggles down from his arms. Luke’s quick to be his older brother’s replacement, diving in towards Eddie, trusting that his father will catch him. He does, of course, and hefts the small boy up. “What’s new, Scooby Doo?”

“Nothin’,” Luke says with a shrug. “Oh, wait. I ate an ant off the sidewalk during playground time.”

Eddie stares at his youngest son, blinking a few times before asking, “What color?”

“Black.”

“Okay, you’re fine,” Eddie says, putting the boy down.

“That’s gross,” Ryan says as his little brother walks up to him.

Eddie shakes his head, in amusement or bemusement you’re not sure, and subtly gestures for you to follow him into the kitchen. It’s hard not to trip over your own feet as you move behind your boss. You’d follow him to Jupiter and back if he asked.

“So, uh,” Eddie starts softly once the two of you are alone in the kitchen, “Saturday we’re going to Indianapolis for a real-life Hot Wheels show.”

The way your eyes light up with excitement has Eddie’s heart thumping against his ribs.

“Oh, he’s going to love that!” you gush.

His responding dopey grin momentarily stalls Eddie’s train of thought before he remembers Ryan’s suggestion.

“Yeah, I couldn’t believe my luck when I found the ad for it. But, uh, turns out Brittany can’t get out of work for it.”

You hope you’re able to keep some of the fury blazing in your eyes hidden from your boss. Sometimes it’s a challenge to hold your tongue about Brittany around Eddie—that’s why your poor roommate gets an earful of it almost every day when you come home.

“Ryan, he just, um, had a great idea,” Eddie continues. His tongue darts out and licks over his lips. “Would you be interested in coming with the three of us on Saturday? I know it’s last minute, so there’s no worry if you can’t. Or if it’s not your thing, I get that too.”

“Eddie,” you say with a soft chuckle.

The sound vibrates through his body, liquefying his heart on the spot.

“I would love to go with you guys and celebrate Luke’s birthday.”

Technically, you do have plans for a lunch date with your friend Lily that you’ll have to cancel, but there’s no way you can pass up this opportunity to spend extra time with the Munson men—especially Eddie.

A sigh of release emanates from Eddie’s chest, and he gives you a grin that makes your knees weak.

“Great. It’s a surprise for Luke, so he doesn’t know anything is going on this weekend. I’m not even going to tell him even when we’re in the car on the way to Indianapolis; I’m too excited for the look on his face when he sees the real-life tracks and cars.”

“He’s going to lose his tiny mind,” you say.

“He is,” Eddie agrees with a hearty laugh.

“Do you want me to come by on Saturday or do you want to pick me up on the way?” you ask.

Originally, Eddie had just figured that you would come to the house, but the thought of having your address is too tempting for him to give up. Not that he’ll ever do anything with the information, but just to get a peek behind the curtain into your life, a glimpse at where you start and end your days.

“We can pick you up,” Eddie says, trying his best to be casual. “That’ll be another fun little pit stop for Luke.”

“Perfect. Here, let me give you my address.”

“This is where you live!” Luke exclaims as soon as you slip into the passenger seat of Eddie’s car.

“It is!” You turn to look at the boys over your shoulder and give them a smile.

“Do you live on the tippy top?” Luke asks, pointing out the car window to the highest level of your building.

“Nope, just the second floor,” you tell him as you buckle your seatbelt.

“Not as fun,” Ryan laments.

“Will someone please tell me where we’re going?” Luke whines five minutes after Eddie has pulled out of your apartment complex parking lot.

“Hey, what did I say?” Eddie raises his eyebrows and looks at his youngest son through the rearview mirror.

Luke’s bright blue eyes turn skyward, and he lets out a huff that makes it sound like he’s deflating.

“It’s a surprise.” Luke’s voice is the most monotone you’ve ever heard it.

“Exactly. And no one is going to spoil the surprise,” Eddie says as he pulls onto the highway. “So quit asking.”

He doesn’t, of course. He asks four more times over the course of the journey.

The drive to Indianapolis takes a little over an hour, but it passes by in a flash with the constant entertainment of the Munson trio you’re traveling with. Luke’s insatiable curiosity about anything and everything only takes breaks to give out tidbits of information that he already knows. Many times, Ryan tries to get his little brother to shut up so that he can talk to you as well. And Eddie is the King of Wit as he makes you laugh with comebacks to the boys, and jokes that make your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. It’s almost a disappointment when you have to get out of the car with them. At least you know you’ll have the ride home to experience this Munson brand of insanity once more.

The moment Eddie puts the car into park, you keep your gaze on Luke. He’s straining in his seat to look out the window, anxious for any clue as to where he is. He’s the first one to unhook his seatbelt and hops out of the car, immediately squinting in the bright sunlight.

“It’s hot,” Ryan says as he steps out of the car.

“Jesus, you’re right,” Eddie agrees. The man reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a black hair tie. You can’t help but be mesmerized as you watch him bunch his beautiful curls up and tie them into a bun on the back of his head. Small strands of hair frame his face and you feel all the blood in your body drop to between your legs.

At least if I pass out I can blame it on the heat instead of how unfairly fucking good my boss looks, you think to yourself.

“What is this place?” Luke asks. He has one small hand shielding his eyes from the sun as he swivels on the spot, looking for any clues to solve this puzzle.

“Come on,” Eddie says, nodding his head towards the stadium at the other end of the parking lot. He offers his hand to his youngest son who happily takes it, eager to get whatever show this is on the road.

Ryan slips his hand into yours, which makes your insides feel as warm as your outside as the two of you trail behind Eddie and Luke.

The closer you get to the entrance, the more you notice people wearing shirts with the Hot Wheels logo on them, but you’re hoping Luke either doesn’t notice or just thinks it’s a coincidence. The four-year-old still seems to be buzzing with anticipation when Eddie hands four tickets to the attendant who lets you through the entry way into the stadium.

A cool, shaded tunnel is all that separates you from the main event and you’re pretty sure your excitement is greater than the kids’. Eddie looks over his shoulder at you and gives you a wink. You know it’s meant as a signal to watch for Luke’s reaction, but it sends goosebumps all over your body and you stumble over nothing as Eddie turns back around.

“Are you okay?” Ryan asks, his hand securely in yours so that you wouldn’t fall.

“I’m good,” you say, shakiness evident in your voice.

Quickly, you make sure to turn your attention to Luke. Just as he’s about to step back into the sunlight with his father, you take a deep breath and hold it.

Eddie brings Luke out into the stadium proper, you and Ryan right behind them. It takes Luke a few minutes to absorb what he sees.

In the middle of the stadium are twin life-size Hot Wheels loops, orange as bright as flames. At the beginning of each track, sit two empty racecars, both designed to look like the pocket-sized toys the youngest Munson brother collects. The one on the left looks like cans of paint were thrown on the car. Splotches of neon green, white, and a little bit of black cover the car from nose to fin. The car on the next track looks painted with more intention than its counterpart. This one has a base coat of canary yellow with dark red and blue flames emblazoned on the hood, roof, and trunk. Both cars have the signature Hot Wheels logo on the sides, in the dramatic red flourish.

Once Luke’s brain catches up with what he sees in front of him, his eyes grow exponentially wider. Matching grins appear on both your and Eddie’s faces as you watch it all sink in for the little boy.

“Whoa,” Luke says, eyes darting everywhere.

“You like it?” Eddie asks, shaking his son’s hand gently.

Luke gazes around for another few seconds before looking back at his dad.

“I love it!”

Luke pulls his hand from his dad’s and jumps up and down on the spot, his little hands curling into fists that he holds against his chest. A high-pitched whine of excitement squeaks out and you can’t help but chuckle. His glee is palpable and seeing him so happy is infectious.

“It’s Hot Wheels!” Luke turns to his brother and repeats himself. “Ryan, it’s Hot Wheels!”

“I know!” Ryan says, an elated grin on his own face. “Isn’t it so cool?”

“Yes!” Luke squeaks.

“Come on,” Eddie says, his large hand gently patting Luke’s back. “Let’s go find our seats.”

One downfall of it being such a hot day in Indiana is that the aluminum bleachers that you’re allocated to are toasty even through the material of your shorts.

“Does anyone want some water?” you ask once you’re all settled.

“Me,” both boys say.

“I’ll come with you,” Ryan says.

You gladly accept his offer and take his hand as the two of you venture off to find water.

On the bleachers, Luke squirms in his seat next to Eddie, so excited he can hardly stand it. The little boy tugs on the sleeve of his dad’s t-shirt and Eddie looks over at him.

“I’m so happy!”

Eddie chuckles, his heart growing three sizes at seeing his son this way. Luke’s generally a happy kid, but this euphoria is a whole different level for him, and Eddie realizes he would’ve driven to Alaska for this if it meant putting that smile on his son’s face.

“I can tell,” Eddie says. “I’m glad you’re happy. I’m glad I found something fun for your birthday.”

“And I’m so happy I’m here with you guys!” Luke continues.

Eddie for the first time realizes neither of his sons questioned why their mother wasn’t coming with them today. No wondering why she didn’t get in the car, why she wasn’t here with the rest of the family. And neither of the boys seem to mind one bit. In fact, Luke just said he’s happy to be here with the three of you. Not his mom, but you here with them. Honestly, Eddie couldn’t agree more. He’s not about to spend his son’s birthday celebration psychoanalyzing what that means, though.

“We’re all so happy to be here with you,” Eddie says. He leans forward and presses a kiss to Luke’s curls. They’re slightly sweaty but neither of them cares.

A loudspeaker crackles to life and an announcer with a booming, lively voice asks the crowd if they’re ready to have a good time today.

“Our drivers today are Buzzy Graham and Oliver Ronald!”

The first man—Buzzy—gives the crowd a wave and jogs over to the splotchy looking car. He straps a neon green helmet on and climbs into the life-sized toy vehicle through the driver’s side window. The second driver, Oliver, also gives a wave and a smile as he makes his way over to the car painted with flames. An indigo helmet gets strapped to his head, and he slips inside of his car as well.

The moment the show starts, and Luke hears the first revving of an engine, he’s on his feet. His hands are clenched in excitement again as he waits with bated breath for the cars to get into gear. The kid has put his cars through tracks just like these a hundred times before, now he’s ready to see the real thing in action.

The buzz of the crowd dims as the hundreds of people in attendance wait for the show to begin. Finally, the purr of an engine sounds above all other noise and Luke clasps his hands together with an excited gasp. Ryan is also full of anticipation, sitting at the very edge of his seat and watching with eyes almost as wide as his little brother’s.

Over the speaker, a countdown begins.

“3…2…1!”

Both cars go full throttle across the checkered starting line. Luke intakes a sharp breath and Eddie can’t help but notice it doesn’t come out right away as he watches the two cars speed along down the orange track.

The cars approach the first loop and every muscle in Luke’s tiny body is frozen as he watches in anticipation. Ryan also has his eyes glued to the cars, but his is more of a fascination of how the cars don’t fall while they’re upside down in the loop.

“How did they…” you just barely hear Ryan say to himself over the roar of the audience.

Now that the cars are out of the loop, they’re coming up on the jump over a shallow ravine, to the other side of the continuing neon track, where the finish line is.

The Splotch and The Flames both start their small incline to prepare them for the jump, and Luke’s hands go up to grab the curls on top of his head. This is possibly the most stress the kid has ever endured in his life. At least it’s the good kind, Eddie can tell.

“Here we go,” Eddie says just as the cars are about to be airborne.

And suddenly, there’s nothing beneath the spinning black wheels but dust and air as they soar over the pass between the two disconnected parts of the track. Luke swears it all moves in slow motion.

The rubber tires of the splotchy car touch down on the other side of the ravine first, bumping and jostling the car forward as the flames one lands a split second after it.

The end of the track is only yards away, so the splotchy car has the upper hand and is the first one to cross over the black and white finish line.

“WOO!” Luke cheers. His hands come free from his mess of curls and he throws his arms up in the air. “Yes!”

“Wow!” Ryan stands up and claps his hands, cheering alongside his little brother.

“Daddy, did you see that?!” Luke asks, turning his wide-eyed gaze on his father. “That was the coolest thing ever!”

The genuine excitement and happiness wafting off of, not only Luke, but Ryan too, has Eddie grinning ear to ear as he nods in response to the small boy. Eddie would absolutely agree that this is the coolest thing ever. But not for the same reasons his sons do.

The tracks are cleaned and reset a number of times, letting different cars and different drivers take their turns. But none of the excitement will ever live up to that initial race to Ryan and Luke. Seeing those real-life Hot Wheels in motion for the first time blew their little minds. By the end, you and Eddie are both watching the boys more than the show in front of you.

Once the last race has been run and the show has come to its end, it’s clear all the excitement and sitting out in the heat have worn the boys out—-Eddie and you too, if you were being honest. The sun is setting now and it gives you a reprieve from the heat as you head back to the car.

“So, kiddo,” Eddie says, gently shaking Luke’s hand where he holds it in his own. “Where should we stop off on the way home to grab a birthday cake?”

“I get cake today, too?” Luke asks, voice rising higher in pitch the further he gets in the question. “Awesome!”

Eddie was planning to get a second cake for Luke’s actual birthday on Monday, but guilt gnaws in his head. You won’t be there on Monday, and Brittany will. You’ll be the one who remembers his birthday wish, always said aloud despite Ryan’s reminder to keep it a secret.

Since you can’t be there when Luke blows out the candles on Monday, Eddie ensures that he’ll have a cake today as well. The happier cake, Eddie bitterly thinks.

“Dairy Queen!” Luke announces as everyone piles into the car.

“Nice choice,” Eddie commends, raising his eyebrows.

“I love those little crunchy things in the middle of the ice cream layers,” Luke elaborates as he buckles himself into his seatbelt. “They look like little clumps of dirt but taste like little nuggets from Heaven!”

You and Eddie share an amused smile as he slips the key into the ignition and starts the car.

“Oooh!” Ryan says, twisting in his seat to look out the back windshield. It’s dark now, but he knows it’s the general direction of where the stadium is. “Can we take our car on the Hot Wheels track?”

Luke gasps in excitement and joins in the begging.

“Please? Just once?”

“Guys, we can’t just drive on to the track,” Eddie says, shaking his head in amusement. Though he will admit to himself, that sounds like it would be so much fuckin’ fun. “Professionals drive those cars. Cars that are specifically made to do that kind of stuff.”

“Yeah,” you add, turning around in your seat to face the boys as Eddie pulls out of the parking space. “And I don’t know about you, but if I went upside down like that, I would feel too sick to have any delicious Dairy Queen ice cream cake.”

You’re aware your words are most likely untrue, but it gets the boys thinking about the sweet treat again rather than wanting to go perform professional stunts in the dark with no supervision.

There’s a drug store right in front of the first Dairy Queen you come across on the drive home, so you run in there to grab some birthday candles while Eddie and the boys get a cake.

You meet them at an outside table where Eddie is carefully removing the vanilla-frosted cake from the box. While he takes care of that, you unload the bag of supplies you bought at the drugstore. Sure, Dairy Queen had paper plates to eat off of, but there’s no way they had ones as cool as the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle ones you found.

“Ahhh!” Luke’s face lights up when he sees the package of plates and happily takes them from you so he can rip the plastic off.

Of course, the matching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle napkins were a necessity as well. But with everything that Luke likes, there’s no way you could stick with one theme when you saw the party supply aisle.

Next, out come the Scooby Doo party hats and matching noise makers. Ryan giggles as you situate his hat atop his dark golden curls and adjust the strap below his chin. Unsurprisingly, Luke went for a noise maker first, which has Eddie giving you a fake glare. With a soft giggle, you give him an innocent shrug in return.

Scooping up another cardboard cone hat, you step closer to Eddie and slide it on him. If you’re being honest with yourself, this is mostly just an excuse to touch him. The backs of your fingers lightly brush against his stubble as you hook the string on his strong jaw. His hair is still tied back, but that gives you the perfect opportunity to fix the strands of hair that frame his face when they get shifted from securing the hat.

The moment the pads of your fingers make contact with the soft tendrils of hair, a pleasant chill runs down your spine. Doe eyes watch your face as you arrange small sections of his fly away hairs, but you don’t dare meet his eye. There’s no way you’d be able to keep all the emotions you try to keep bottled up inside from broadcasting across your face like a scroll sign in Times Square.

You clear your throat and take a step back. Trying to will all heat away from your face, you slip on your own Scooby Doo party hat, make sure Luke is wearing his, then tear open the package of candles you bought. The frozen frosting on top of the cake has thawed a bit from being outside in the Indiana evening heat, but it still takes a little effort to stab five green striped candles around the edges of the cake, and one white one in the middle for luck.

Eddie slips a silver lighter out of his pocket and leans in until there’s a small flame dancing on top of each candle’s wick.

“Okay,” Eddie says as he slips the zippo back into his pocket. He moves to stand behind Luke, gently resting his hands on his son's shoulders. “One, two, three…”

A chorus of Happy Birthday to You begins and Luke’s gleeful face is illuminated even brighter by the fire casting its light.

“…happy birthday, dear Luuu-uuuke. Happy birthday to you!”

“Make a wish, sweetheart,” you tell him.

“But don’t say it out loud!” Ryan reminds him, a hint of anger in his voice letting you know this is a regular occurrence.

Luke’s lips form a pucker as he thinks. The gears churning in his head are practically visible as he casts his gaze upward, then downward. Then, his eyes flit to his father behind him, then over to you. A smile that you could only describe as hopeful slowly grows on Luke’s lips as he leans in towards the cake. The almost-five-year-old takes a deep inhale in through the nose, then blows all his candles out in one shot.

The smoke curls into the air and disappears as you and Eddie clap your hands now that Luke made his wish.

The cold cake is the perfect dessert to be eating outside on a warm summer-but-not-technically-summer-yet night. The vanilla and chocolate ice cream along with the crispy, crunchy pieces in the middle are the perfect way to end such a lovely day.

You’ve never had a day out with the Munson men like this before. Something deep inside of you wonders if all of this was a good thing or bad thing, though. Because before you didn’t know what you were missing. Now, you know how it feels to spend time with them as a person—not an employee. Just as a friend to Eddie—-and okay, maybe still like a babysitter to the kids. But it’s so different than just being in the Munson house until Eddie comes home, get paid, then leave. This was time together. And it was one of the best times you’ve ever had.

“You’ll always have the memory of today,” you whisper to yourself as you walk away from the guys to throw away empty plates and used napkins. “Even if I never get another day like this again, I’ll always have the memory of this one and how nice it feels to spend time with them. All of them.”

You take a deep breath walking back towards everyone, mentally composing yourself so you don’t give away that you’re getting caught up in your own head.

“We ready to get back on the road?” Eddie asks, patting his front pocket that holds the keys.

“Yes—oh. One second. Luke?” You chuckle and take a seat down at the table. When the little boy looks at you, you gesture for him to come over to you. “It’s a good thing I didn’t throw away all the napkins.”

There’s ice cream all over Luke’s face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he had been trying to devour it by osmosis.

“How did you get chocolate in your eyebrow?” you ask with a chuckle as you gently rub at the area above his eye. After one more once over, everything looks good—nice and clean. “There we go.”

“Thank you!” Luke leans in and pecks your cheek before spinning around and heading towards the car.

The small display of affection has you giddy as you follow behind him. It’s the little moments where you realize that they love you right back that turn you into a puddle on the floor. But you’d happily stay that way if it meant the boys love you even half as much as you love them.

Despite the recent sugar rush, it doesn’t take long once you get on the road again for the boys to fall asleep. Soft snores come from one of them, but it’s impossible to tell who since they’ve somehow come to sleep with their heads resting up against one another’s.

It leaves no room for you and Eddie to talk, but you don’t mind. Companionable silence with Eddie is comfortable, there’s no urge to fill the silence with some small talk or forced conversation. It’s relaxing even, to sit next to Eddie and just be. There’s nothing you have to do, nothing to worry about, it’s just you sitting next to Eddie while the beauty of Indiana at dusk rushes by outside the windows. As much as you don’t want to think about it, you could definitely get used to this.

When Eddie pulls up to your apartment complex, you almost want to be a child and beg for one more ride around the block. The boys are still sleeping and the only sound is from the crickets chirping outside as Eddie kills the engine.

“Thank you for inviting me today,” you say. “I really had a lot of fun.”

“Yeah, those cars were pretty cool, huh?” Eddie asks with a soft chuckle as he reaches up to scratch the back of his neck.

“Oh, no. Well, I mean, yes, they were, but I didn’t just mean them. I had a lot of fun hanging out with the three of you.” If your wife bails on you again, just let me know, you think, but almost laugh to yourself when you realize you need to correct it. WHEN your wife bails on you.

“I had a really great time, too,” Eddie says. “I always have a great time with my boys. But you made it even more fun.”

Heat rushes to your face and you instinctively avert your gaze and duck your head.

One of the boys lets out a whopper of a snore and it startles both you and Eddie, who let out soft matching chuckles at your own jumpiness.

“Since they’re out like a light,” you say, looking over your shoulder at the two boys snoozing in the backseat, “tell them how much fun I had with you all, yeah?”

“Will do,” Eddie affirms.

“And give them a kiss from me when you tuck them in.” Part of you is tempted to lean in and press a quick peck to Eddie’s cheek that’s meant for him to then pass in turn to the boys, but all emotions other than desire somehow keep it reigned in.

Taking a deep breath, you reach for the door handle and curl your fingers around the silver lever.

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” you ask Eddie, offering him a small smile.

“Absolutely. I’d, uh, offer to walk you inside, but I’ve got these two sleeping sloths in the back. I don’t trust them alone—even unconscious.”

Your soft responding giggle has Eddie smiling in his shadowed corner of the car.

“Bye, Eddie.” The passenger side door opens with a clack and you swing one leg out of it.

“Bye, sweetheart.”

The moment the car door closes behind you, Eddie’s gaze falls to your ass. He watches each sway of your hips and finds his teeth sharply digging into his lower lip.

“God damn,” Eddie mutters to himself once he sees you’re safely inside your building.

He sits there for another quiet moment, one hand on the gear shift. After taking a deep lungful of air and releasing it slowly, Eddie turns the car back on and pulls out of the parking spot.

The car hasn’t even made it out of the complex parking lot when Eddie hears his youngest stirring in the backseat with an overexaggerated yawn. The little boy smacks his lips together a few times before he opens his mouth and speaks in a voice still laced with sleep.

“Can I have some more cake?”

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