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passingnotions · 22 days ago

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Out of Office | Yeseo (ft. Mashiro)

smut, 2.9k words

“Who brought all that cake?” You walk up to the cubicle, mouth full and still taking another bite.

“Hm?” She continues typing a seemingly endless email.

“The one in the break room.”

“Oh, the intern.” She’s focused on the second monitor now, lost in some spreadsheet.

“You’re the intern.”

“The new intern.”

You shift your stance; raise a brow in anticipation.

“They’re in an onboarding meeting right now.” She tilts her head towards the conference rooms.

Through the blinds, though far, you can spot figures bathed in blue projector light. “Huh. alright.”

“Also, I got hired last month—come on.”

“Sure but you’re still under me—” You try, stumble through it. “You were, under me, last week.”

“That joke’s not landing.”

“Yeah, it isn’t.”

The room in the distance lights up. There’s movement, a handshake? They’re standing around and chatting.

“She’s your type.” She stops typing; looks up at you.

And you stop chewing. “Shiro, what am I supposed to make of that?”

“Just saying.” Her eyelashes bat a faux pout. “Hope I don’t get replaced?”

“Catching feelings, are we?”

“Oh.” Tone breathy, thespian, and with a hand at her chest. “From our very first night.”

A door opens at the end of the office space. You straighten up, finish what’s left of your pastry, and shoot a look towards Mashiro while heading over to your desk.

From where you sit, there’s not much to see. You listen to the shuffle of steps somewhere on the floor, to the casual chatter. There’s corporate laughter—measured, mechanical—and a lilt to a voice you hadn’t heard before. The sounds come and go. Close, then far, then close again: she’s getting introduced to everyone.

Eventually: “oh, think we missed someone over on this corner?” Pretty platform heels clatter around to where you sit until finally revealing themselves. She’s a cheating five feet tall. Dark and elegant hair frames this darling, sweet look. Prettiest fucking cheeks on the planet. “Hello! I’m Kang Yeseo.” She extends a small hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” you manage, standing up and returning the gesture.

“Oh, I see you found the pastry tray I brought.” She looks at the small plate by your keyboard. Her smile is beaming. “Hope everything was to your liking!”

“Yeah—yeah.” Your best is a nonplussed nod. “It really is.”

You hear your boss call out over the divider wall. Says she’s the new intern. Starts tomorrow. Ah, I see, you reply. Your head tilts when you realize. The calendar marks Friday. “Working over the weekend?”

“They said it’d be easier to learn because of the slower pace. Can’t say no to that!” She laughs. “I’ll be shadowing someone.”

You work tomorrow.

“Guess I’ll be seeing you in the morning, then.”

“Oh, great! We’ll get to know each other fast!” She’s all verve—begins to walk away from view before finishing her own sentence. “Nice to meet you again. Gotta head back to the tour!”

You collapse on your chair, processing. “Nice to meet you, too.”

There’s a narrative step you miss, trip over. You’ll have to pick up the pieces sometime. They’re probably tangled in the locks of her hair, the glint in her eyes, or that flashing, disarming smile—

Okay, alright. It’s not romance, not by a longshot, but you do see her twirling the ends of her locks every once in a while, like she’s the one in love and, hey, sure.

Because you fuck the girl so well that she’s consumed by the idea of you.

Mashiro strokes your ego over the week and Yeseo your cock, over the weekends. That’s your onboarding procedure, if anyone were to ask.

Shiro says you’ll make Yeseo fall for you, that maybe you already have, that there’s no way those university boys give her anything worthwhile when it comes to attention. Salaryman, Mashiro says, has the money, the apartment, the free time, and god that cock.

You stop Mashiro—recommend she go into acting. Say it suits her. She asks, at some point, which angles you think the camera would best capture. Her face is on the mattress, ass at a complete diagonal opposite.

“This, right here.” You’re making a frame right behind her with your fingers, then catch her gaze in the full length mirror over to your right. “This is the one.”

“Mm,” she hums. “I bet.” Mashiro reaches her arms back, face still on the duvet. Her palms land flat on her ass, and with a gripping pull, she spreads open.

Your arms fall to your sides—they settle, defeated—and you think it’s amusing that the bed frame sits so low to the ground. It makes you kneel, though Mashiro already makes you kneel without having to ask, regardless of whatever piece of furniture she’s propped up on. It’s less skill, more innate talent—like she was made for you, built, sculpted—but, yes, Mashiro has the skill, too. She’s well practiced on what makes you practically melt. You’ve run your hands over that piece of art a million times and it still has you sighing your deepest sighs when your knees finally hit the ground.

With your palms replacing hers—ass and cunt kept spread open and waiting—Mashiro speaks through the reflection. “You look mesmerized.”

“I am.” You can hear the smile in her voice and smile back. Your hands get busy, kneading.

Like a pup that’s excited to be played with, Mashiro wags it a little, to mess with you, because it throws your brain for a loop every single time. “Tongue, baby.” She pushes her whole body back a bit, tone sultry. “Come on.”

“When’s the last time I made you cum?” You ask.

“Every time,” she giggles out.

You give Mashiro a long, slow lick. Admire the luster. “No, as in—” she’s so close that you’re breathing her in—“when did you stay over last?”

Before she gets a chance to inhale a response, you get to work. Sheets scrunch in her fists. “Ah,” Mashiro lets out gently. “It’s been more than a week.”

Your hands don’t let go. You’re pulling her onto your face and your tongue laps, laps, laps—lips locked. It’s, immediately, a mess. Spit, wetness. The taste is divine.

You take a second to breathe. “I missed you.” It comes out so, so low, like gravel, like the need to eat this woman out reverts you to only the most instinctual and primal.

Your fingers are leaving impressions on her pale skin, you realize. You’re not even grabbing on that hard.

“I know you did.” She laughs.

You go back in; she moans. It’s a whole thing. Your tongue runs flat from clit to rim and you’re unsure which one of you throbs the hardest.

But Mashiro turns, eventually, flips herself over, and pulls a pillow under her head for support. She wants to look at you, in the reflection, face to face—loves to look at you when she cums. And you’ll make her, every time.

“Could come over more often,” she says, kittenish, and you know exactly where it’s headed. “But you’re always so busy.”

You tease a finger right over her folds. “Uh huh.” Slip it in.

Her breath hitches when you curl it at the right spot. You love messing with each other like that.

“You have a spare key, Shiro. Can come over any time.” Your lips are curled into a wicked smile, and you dive back in, lick her a couple more times, kiss her thighs, have her throw her head back in delicate bliss.

“And walk in on you two?” She pulls your head up—stares. “I’d be devastated."

“Heartbroken, I’m sure.” You’re holding her gaze and putting another finger in; her hips buck. Fuck—you enjoy this as much as she does.

She bites her lip and her eyes go narrow when you hit that spot again, letting your face go. It’s permission: make me, until my legs quiver, until I can’t fucking take it anymore, please.

You slide in another, because you’re allowed, and frankly, because you enjoy the obscenity of it. She’s stretched out and you simply stare. In, out, a bit of a curl again, as much as three digits permit. You’ve heard Mashiro say worse, to be fair, curse out heaven and hell. Knowing that you could take her much further feeds your ego.

“Bet you couldn’t bear it,” you’re saying, straightening up, fingers still in her cunt. You stare at her pretty legs, folded and spread open, giving you all the damn room in the world. “Watching me fill her up with a load that you’d want for yourself.”

The little whimper when you slip your fingers out is as cute as it is profane. You’d do anything for her, for less than that. To watch her unravel every time is enough of a reward.

“Is that what you do?” Mashiro catches her breath, finally. “Pump the little thing full until she leaks?”

You settle your knees on the mattress, aligning your stiff cock, and nodding. Guilty as charged. You decide it’s best to have her cumming with your length inside her messy-wet folds. “You get so slutty when you’re jealous.”

Your cock starts back on the path that your fingers just explored as she quips, “bet you don’t even wash the bedding before it’s my turn.” Mashiro’s nodding along at your slow thrust. She’s all play, still, but your cock’s splitting her open bit by bit. Attention’s divided, to say the least. “You’re such a whore.”

“Baby,” you coo, proud because her gaze falters. You’re halfway and she’s already slipping a hand down to play with her clit—though it’s not until you sink to the base with a firm push that you take her breath away. She does this eyes-shut exhale.

And no, it’s not romance here, either.

“Only you get the bed.”

It’s been a couple of Fridays since you last worked weekends, and any excuse is a good excuse for Yeseo. Company outing after work? Take her home. New to this part of town? Poor girl, you’ll show her around (and take her home). Ah, too tired to walk to hers tonight, and yours is only one train stop away? The pair of jeans she has on today, by the way—christ—bless casual Fridays. You do, in fact, take those home, too.

How impossibly fortunate. A straight flush. You have the girl cockdrunk for a whole fucking month. Not to say that she doesn’t have you similarly obsessed. That much goes without saying.

And, again, there’s some fill-in-the-blanks section that has to go unfinished or we’ll never really get to—

You both wake up at midnight—yes, midnight, because you had crashed on your sectional only six hours prior. There was actual work to be done this week, on top of the fact that Mashiro went home with you three out of those five, exhausting days. She gives you weekends off; calls it the babysitting gig. You tell her to not do that.

Now, Yeseo’s in the shower. The scene is cut-to, a tad jarring and sudden. Interior apartment, Saturday, zero hundred hours. You have the noise floor where it’s all ambient sound out in the living room, your kitchen appliances buzz, the aircon kicks in. Nice and quiet, until the figurative camera sends it down the hall and past your bedroom door. Wet white noise fades in. Rhythmic… clapping?

There aren’t that many useful euphemisms from here on out. Everyone has read this script before.

The intern’s against glass. It’s a heavenly slope, really, the way her upper torso is flat on the shower door. With hands braced at either side of her tits, her lower back arches out—legs tensed, tiptoed—and her ass angles out just so. It’s plush, it’s deadly. Your hands are settled on that striking indent where her hips and waist meet while your own hips push, thrust, and press against her round, easy cheeks.

Fuck—

Yeseo pushes back in kind. The tempo is practiced and well known to the both of you, though there’s a key difference. The camera wouldn’t pick up on it, not from the angle it would find itself at. And you yourself can’t figure out if this right here is where you’ll end it—where the scene cuts.

A little longer, you’re telling yourself.

See: contraceptives—left the whole pack back at the office. It’s the whole reason why you decided to fall asleep in the first place. Yeseo said something about buying some right as you both stepped through the front door but your mouths sufficed for the subsequent half hour. Some dinner, that was.

And because there’s no self-control, she didn’t have to do much to persuade you into taking a shower before heading to the closest pharmacy, or gas station, or anywhere that happened to be open at this ungodly hour and—

Again, no polite terminology here.

You’ve been fucking her raw for the past ten minutes. Her fertile arousal gathers at the base of your cock every time you piston in, in, in—so messy, smeared, depraved—and your thumbs leave flush-red marks whenever they press onto her smooth, luxury skin.

So you cum, naturally. Flood her womb. It’s filthy, because Yeseo is at that point, too—the girl put a finger over her clit a minute ago and ran it in circles until her eyes went hazy, went dumb. Until her thus-far dulcet moans turned into half breaths and broken whimpers. There’s a ‘yes’ in there somewhere, a flash in the pan, brief and hissed, as the tension in her chest breaks into more cries of pleasure with your name intertwined.

You groan, then, slipping out only a moment after and holding your cock like it’s fucking expired. The feeling is an overstimulated frenzy—electric, and still jolting. Out of all things, however, what fucks with you is not what you did, but how it looks: her figure shivers as she plants her heels back on shower tiles; hot and sticky white lands next to her feet.

It reeks of debauchery—hasty, impatient. Yeseo’s cunt leaks and all you think about is dipping back in for seconds.

But the scene cuts. Shower steam continues to rise and, with it, your thoughts fade into the next.

She’s reading something that you’re sure is not right. Perhaps it’s not wholly accurate. It’s also noon now, for what it’s worth. the sleep’s polyphasic—a total blur—as it always tends to be over the Saturdays and the Sundays.

“Seventy-two hours,” Yeseo says. She’s sitting on your kitchen counter, eating grapes. Girl hasn’t had a single piece of clothing on since the day before.

“You’re kidding.”

“Says it can be effective even five days after.” Her mouth’s full. “Damn.”

You close the fridge and walk over to her. “Are you reading an AI summary?”

“Well, it’s summarizing the links below that, so.” She turns her phone towards you.

Levono-whatever-the-fuck’s the active ingredient—Plan B. The morning-after pill.

“Uh huh,” you say, incredulous. You’re also sweating, almost.

“We’ll get it Monday morning,” Yeseo ensures. “Grape?”

“Can’t we head out right now?”

She feeds you the one, hovers another in front of your lips. “I’m doing a round of laundry.”

The bunch that you bought this week happens to be seed-in.

“And that stops you—” You swallow. “How?”

“The condoms are in my duffle bag, the one that has the rest of my clothes?”

“Ah,” you discern. “The one you left at the office.”

“The one I told you,” she asserts, “to get for me before heading out.”

Open your mouth. You’re gullible by choice, you tell yourself—Yeseo feeds you the second.

She has one set of clothes, one, and it won’t be ready for another thirty minutes. It crosses your mind that you forgot the color of her underwear, at this point. Never properly memorized it. You figure it foreshadows what’s left of the weekend; settle on that fate.

“Wanna put on the movie I mentioned the other day?” She hops off the laminate and walks towards the couch. The edge of the counter is imprinted on her upper thighs and it’s safe to say you’ll be having to replay the film some other day, at a time where there’s at least one layer of fabric to dissuade you from the inevitable. Not like that ever does anything.

You hum. “Not a bad idea.”

Yeseo stands so casually in your living room, working the remote, nothing on. The curtains are pulled back and a noontide shine contours her shape as if the heavens were on a campaign to meddle with you at every possible turn. Your eyes are glued to each and every divot on her skin, to the curves and the lines that lead to them. Her hip cocks off to the right and it has your head tilting to the left—could get you dizzy just like that.

You try to determine where to start again, though walking over to her, it’s not much of a conscious decision. Your palm lands and unabashedly grabs the heft of her ass. No hesitation. It spills through your fingers—has you hard in an instant.

“Should be fun,” she says, absentminded. With the way the selection box goes over and around and anywhere but any of the streaming apps, you know she’s not quite paying attention to the TV, either.

You, regardless, still ask: “what’s it about, again?”

The answer to the next is no.

“Does it matter?”

Superfluous, and somewhat of a spoiler, but this does snowball until the aforementioned Monday morning. Sunday will have you running the same scenes. The blocking will maybe be a bit different, though the outcomes are all the same: you suck at pulling out.

And you’ll tell yourself it’s by choice.

#kpop smut #madein smut #kepler smut #yeseo smut #mashiro smut #male reader #reader insert

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agreeewrites · 4 months ago

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i so love your writing like my fav account and i found you almost two days ago 😭 would you be up to write anything about james potter? like anything. it’s okay if not!! Have a good day/night💞

omg I'm honored!! i'm so glad we found each other 🩷

work for it

feat. james potter x fem!reader | mdni 18+ | masterlist

“Jamie,” you whined, nosing into his neck, his skin deliciously warm under the quilt. He still smelled like the shower he took last night, eucalyptus and something woody, and you wanted to crawl into his ribcage and live there.

His response was a sleep-addled groan, his face buried in his pillow, dark hair like a halo against the white cotton.

You pushed at his broad shoulder, rolling him onto his back, his legs still tangled with yours. He was bare chested, rippling muscles on full display. But it was only you there to appreciate them in the quiet for your bedroom, tan and glowing in the morning sunlight.

And appreciate them you did, pressing kisses across his collar bone, down his sternum. “James, pleaseeee,” you whined again, shifting to lay on top of him, lapping at the purple mark you'd left under his right ear the night before.

“Mmph,” he sighed, shifting a bit beneath you. He brought up a big hand, calloused from years of quidditch, and you thought you’d won, that he was going to draw you in for a kiss, but instead he grabbed your face and weakly shoved your head from his neck. “M’sleepin’” he mumbled, but you caught the corner of his lip twitch upwards.

“But honey, I need you.” You put on your most pitiful voice, dragging your hand down his torso to palm his cock through his boxers. He was already half-hard, throbbing as his heart pumped more blood south.

James continued to doze, seemingly oblivious to your plight, but his cock betrayed his interest.

Determined, you freed him from his underwear, pleased to find precum already beading at the tip and spreading it over the head with your thumb. Still, his expression remained neutral, his breathing steady.

“Jamie,” you purred in his ear, wrapping your hand around his base and gliding upwards, velvety and hot against your palm. “Don't you wanna fuck me?”

He chuckled, the corner of his mouth finally quirking up. “Need another hour after all the fucking I gave you last night.”

“But I need you nooow.” You kissed along his scuffed jaw, jerking him a little more pressure, twisting your wrist at the top in the way you knew he liked.

“Gonna have to work for it, love,” he said, eyes fluttering closed once again.

You pouted to his closed eyelids. “I could just take care of myself…” you mused, and he cracked open an eye at you, the warning clear.

Just that look was enough to make your pussy clench, his quiet dominance never failing to undo you completely.

You smirked to yourself and shifted down his body, kissing where the sunlight dappled along his abdomen before settling between his legs.

Tangled in sheets and swimming in sunlight, you took James into your mouth, savoring the silken feel of him on your tongue as you bobbed your head. Drool collected around his base, your tongue sweeping along the root of him and circling the head, loving on him, appreciating him with your mouth in every way you could think of.

Eventually, his fingers found their way into your hair, not applying pressure, just feeling you raise and lower, keeping your bedraggled strands from getting in the way.

“So pretty, babygirl,” he cooed, voice still rough with sleep, and you preened, heart thudding at his gentle praise.

Unable to wait any longer, you lifted off of him with a pop and climbed up his body, straddling his waist. You were dressed in one of his shirts, the hem dragging your mid-thigh, but otherwise bare, so your drippy pussy nestled perfectly against the underside of his shaft.

James smirked, stretching his arms overhead with a big yawn, always such a show off. “Not satisfied yet?” He asked, his hands tucked behind his head, elbows akimbo.

You rolled your hips, his drool-covered cock gliding through your slit with ease, and his eyes rolled back in his head, Adam's apple bobbling in his throat.

“If you're just going to lay there like a lazy oaf, I'm going to make myself come,” you teased, rocking slowly against his length, the head nudging your clit just right.

“By all means,” James hummed, watching you through heavy-lidded eyes.

You reached between you, lining his cock up with your entrance, and sank back onto him, inch by delicious inch, until he was fully seated inside you, stretching you just right.

“Fuck, love. You're still dripping with me,” he rasped, watching with greedy eyes as you peeled your shirt over your head, tossing it across the room. “And you want more?”

You nodded, flexing your legs to lift and lower yourself, undulating your hips in a circle while you moved, savoring the feeling of him grazing every inch of you. Your movements were self-indulgent, single-minded in the pursuit of your own pleasure.

“Touch yourself, baby. Yeah, just like that—good girl,” James said, his breath becoming more labored as you fucked yourself onto him, his muscles tight with the effort of keeping his hips still.

Your fingers worked quick circles over your clit, your body falling into the perfect rhythm to make you come—and fast.

It was already building, a simmering heat growing to an inferno in your belly until moans were spilling from your mouth like a favorite song, your hips grinding on his with fervid desperation.

James canted his hips up, sensing you were close, and fucked into you once, twice, and then you were coming, a torrent of bliss ripping through your body like a storm, washing away the rest of the world.

“There we go. S'gorgeous, honey. That what you needed?” He cooed, cuddling you down to his chest while your body trembled and quaked. His continued rocking into you, languid and sloppy, ensuring you got every drop of pleasure you worked so hard for.

You nuzzled into his neck, breathing hard as you slowly returned to reality, his fingers grazing your spine, the movement of his hips, guiding you back.

Once you felt sturdy, you pushed yourself up, swinging your leg over his hips and sliding of the bed.

“Wait, where—”

You smirked, skipping towards the en suite bathroom. “Gonna have to work for it, Potter.”

He was off the bed in a flash, lunging at you across the room and you squealed, not a shred of sleepiness in sight.

#james potter #the marauders #james potter fanfiction #marauders #james potter fic #james potter x you #james potter x reader #james potter smut #marauders fic #the marauders era #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #james potter drabble #james potter oneshot #james potter imagine #harry potter smut #the marauders era fic

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yanderefarm · 7 months ago

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yandere vampire's pet

cw;; dehumanization?, blood, vampires, humans as pets, yandere, angst, suggestive

this is the last named and drawn oc i have ready. i still have two more concepts in my drafts but they're not finished yet.

this might not show his yandere tendencies as well as characters like ares or emil but he's more of a self destructive type. he's more likely to hurt himself for doing something wrong than he is likely to hurt someone for touching you.

also i had to include the vampire guilt and angst im only human (human with a guilt kink)

you're a vampire lord in a world run by vampires with a yandere human pet who you found in a run down human farm after he basically threw himself at you. who clung to your leg and insisted he tasted so sweet you wouldn't regret taking in. who you took pity on seeing his scarred neck and decided to take him with you home.

you fed him and brought him to full health in a year. on the anniversary he begged on his knees for you to make him your pet. you complied. you didn't expect the preservation procedure that would allow him to stay with you forever to mess up his brain. or maybe this was always his personality.

he begged you every day to feed on him. he would sneak into your bed chamber and cut his neck to wake you up. he would sit himself in your lap around noon and undo his shirt buttons to give you easy access. if you dared to refuse him he would cry and beg so pathetically.

you made him this way why didn't you want him? he would often cry until you feel guilty for destroying his humanity. you always gave into him. he always got clingier. he tried not to get in your way during work but one day you let him lay his head on your lap and sit in your office quietly all day. so you had to let him again the next day.

if he really pushed too far you would lock him in an old attic room. oh how he sobbed. you would open the door the next day to be met with his bloodshot eyes that held no light. he would kiss your shoes and cling to your legs while he spoke hoarse apologies. you always forgave him and carried him in your arms to eat breakfast.

on the occasions that you two went to a party held by your fellow vampire lords he would always try to show off. you'd buy him new clothes and a new ribbon to hide his old scars. he liked being the most beautiful arm candy for you. it wasn't unusual for high quality pets to get passed around at these parties. at the end of the night he would often find himself in a strange bed, dizzy from being bled and pathetically crying for you.

your dear pet had spent the whole night being ravaged while you were doing business. his naked and used body laying in the unfamiliar bed, barely conscious. you sighed as you sunk onto the bed, your added weight causing him to shift slightly but he made no noise. usually by now he would be sobbing and reaching wildly for you, those degenerates must have really worked him hard.

you reached out and played with a piece of his hair. "I'm sorry, you poor pathetic creature."

your cold lifeless hands gently brush against his warm cheek. his body finally shifts a little, instinctively pulling away from the cold. you can't help the sad smile that falls on your lips seeing that. you forget how cold you are with how he clings to you at every opportunity. you can smell his blood right now and the tug of your instincts tells you to feed. you forget that you're a monster with how he treats you with such adoration and reverence.

"your life would have been better if you never met me." you push his hair away from his neck, revealing the old scars with fresh wounds scattered among them. your fingers brush against his pulse and he gasps.

you watch his olive eyes blink open slowly, they look almost too heavy to open. you want to gently close them like one would a corpse but the wide smile that spreads across his face stops you. if your heart could still beat you're sure it would have skipped.

"good morning." you said softly.

he used all his remaining strength to wrap around your waist. "y/n..."

his voice is so hoarse and he sounds so exhausted but there's the undeniable happiness. you guide his head to your lap, cold fingers twirling around his hair again.

"was i good...?" his eyes blinked slow again.

"yes. you were so amazing again tonight." you felt the weight of guilt pressing against your chest.

"reward m'...~" you knew he was asking you to indulge in him as so many others had tonight so you just ignored him.

you gently gathered him up in your arms, the top sheet draping over his body. you grabbed his discarded ribbon off the bed before you began carrying him out. the ribbon was sat on his stomach and his weak hands fiddled with it idly. he seemed to be too deep in thought to let sleep overtake him again.

"master... 'm glad you made me...." he nuzzled his head against your chest.

"your father made you." you corrected as you approached your carriage.

"no... y'... made m' y'r pathetic creature." his eyes finally started to close. "so glad m' life is master's.."

#top male reader #dom male reader #male reader #yandere ideas #yandere x male reader #sub yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere drabble #yandere pet

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corroded-hellfire · 7 months ago

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Could we perhaps get a blurb/chapter of when Eliza was born - maybe Eddie thinking back that this is so different than how Brittany was, when Y/N got into labor, where they were and how they reacted?

+ could you write about Eliza being born? I would love to see their reactions and eddie helping reader out plss

+ Please, let us in on the labor with Eddie and Reader from "As you wish". Did Y/N curse Eddie out, threatening to kick his ass or did Eddie do a prince Harry (God I hope not) and use all the gas?

I thought this would be a good chance to tell the story of two births of two very important Munsons, ten years apart 💕

Warnings: childbirth and all that comes with it, Brittany, not a warning but the italic sections are flashbacks/in the past

Words: 7.5k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The blaring wail of Eddie’s alarm clock wakes you up from your night of fitful sleep. It’s hard to remember the last time you had a full peaceful eight hours. The soreness in your lower back and the increasing pressure in your pelvis have been your loyal companions for the past few weeks, determined on not letting you have a moment of comfort.

Next to you, Eddie smacks his hand against the clock. The whining stops and the bed shifts as Eddie rolls over and presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Morning, gorgeous.”

Your answering groan makes your husband let out a soft chuckle as he pushes himself up into a seated position. Figuring it’ll be better to get up than continue to lay there so uncomfortably, you roll onto your side and shove yourself up until you’re sitting. A look down at your feet reveals that your ankles are swollen. Again.

“Know what today is?” Eddie asks as he opens his underwear drawer.

“Uh huh,” you hum. The mattress springs squeak as you stand up.

“Think she’ll make her grand entrance today?” he asks.

“Doubt it,” you say through a yawn. “Babies are never born on their due date.”

Eddie strips off his shirt and comes around the bed to give you a proper good morning kiss.

“How you feeling, baby?”

“Peachy,” you grunt. “Gonna go get the boys up.”

Luckily, neither Ryan nor Luke gives you any trouble waking up or getting ready for school. They know how you’ve been feeling lately and have been great about helping you out when they can.

“Bye!” Ryan says as he slips his backpack on.

“Have a good day,” Eddie says, ruffling both boys’ hair.

You press a kiss to the top of their heads and Luke rubs a hand across your swollen belly.

“Be good in there, Eliza!”

A smile grows on your face at his words. They head out the door to the bus stop, Ryan giving you one last wave before you close the door.

“Alright, I’m gonna head out,” Eddie says. He walks over and cups your face in his warm hands. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

“I will,” you assure him.

He nods and presses a sweet kiss against your lips.

“Relax and get some rest.”

“Okay.” You give him another kiss in return. “Have a good day at work.”

“Love you, baby.”

“I love you, too.”

Not even two minutes after Eddie walks out the door, you plop down in front of the television with the remote. The only thing on at this time of day are soap operas, which have started to become an addiction of yours since there’s nothing else for you to do.

Fortunately, one of today’s plotlines is so boring and you predicted the identical twin brother twist a week ago, so you manage to fall asleep. It’s only a cat nap, but you’ll take anything you can get these days.

A different kind of discomfort awakens you this time. Your stomach growls so loudly it feels like it rattles the windows. You rally the strength to get up from the couch, and with a little help from the arms and back of it, you’re standing.

An infomercial for some Chuck Norris Total Gym blathers on as background noise as you walk–or more like waddle–into the kitchen. A peanut butter and banana sandwich has been a go-to for you during this pregnancy—after Luke happily introduced it to you one day over the summer. There’s something about the rich nuttiness and the sweetness of the fruit together between two pieces of bread that makes Eliza very happy in your womb.

Once you’ve got peanut butter spread on both slices of bread, you move to grab a banana from the fruit bowl. The moment your hand touches the yellow peel, you feel a twinge of pain shoot from your lower back, through your tummy, and down into your pelvis. Your hand braces you against the counter as you breathe through the pain.

What the hell was that? You think to yourself. That fucking hurt.

You take a deep breath and grab the banana. As you turn back to your sandwich and peel open the piece of fruit, it hits you.

Were those…contractions? No, you tell yourself, shaking your head. It had to be something else.

“No one ever actually has their baby on the due date,” you say into the quiet kitchen. “Maybe I have to pee again. I swear, this little girl thinks my bladder is a trampoline.”

Once you’re finished up in the bathroom, you head back to finish making your sandwich. But the minute you pick up the butter knife, another stab of pain attacks.

“Oh boy,” you say, one hand dropping the knife and going to your lower back, while the other rests on your bump. “You’re ready to come out, aren’t you? You heard that doctor say ‘October 7th’ and you made a note on a calendar, huh?”

The mental image of the baby in your belly marking the date off on a calendar makes you smile as you waddle over to the phone hanging on the wall. The line rings twice before someone picks up.

“Scott’s Auto Body, this is Mark speaking. How can I help you?”

“Hi, Mark.” You breathe through another twinge of pain. “Is Eddie there?”

“Yeah, let me go grab him for you,” Mark says.

“Thanks.”

It feels like an eternity as you hear the phone being put down, shuffling noises in the background, then low murmuring voices, until finally the phone is being moved again and you finally hear your husband’s voice.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” you say. “I, um, think I’m having contractions.”

“You are?”

It’s hard to tell if that’s excitement or urgency in his voice. Probably both.

“Yeah, the first one I just waved off as a fluke. But they’ve happened a couple of times now.”

“Alright, I’m on my way home, princess,” Eddie says, and you can already hear him moving around, starting the process. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you assure him. “They’re quick and not too close together yet. I’ll start counting when I feel the next one.”

“Good.” The sound of his keys jingling comes through the phone. “I’ll be there in a few minutes. I love you.”

A hint of giddiness is already creeping into his tone. He’s wanted a baby girl for so long, and she’s finally ready to make her appearance. You make a mental note to think of Eddie’s excitement anytime a contraction overwhelms you. Of course, you have your own excitement, and lots of it, but seeing Eddie be so truly happy is one thing that could get you through all the pain in the world.

Eddie unsheathes his sword as the azure dragon flies overhead. Too far for him to even reach if he threw his sword. The blood red skies cast a purple shadow on the giant winged creature. But Eddie’s almost there. He can see the tower in the distance, normally not a rough journey, but there’s bound to be something guarding the locked-away maiden.

As he gets closer, Eddie sees that it’s a female Cloud Giant tasked with keeping people like him away. Only the most noble who dare to help the poor young thing locked away.

Eddie picks up speed, his sword at the ready as he approaches the giant, then—bam! Something lands against Eddie’s cheek. He looks up, seeing if the dragon perhaps swooped down to swipe the knight with his tail. But the skies are clear. So, Eddie continues forward. Bam! What the hell is—

Eddie is jolted back into consciousness by his own pillow smacking his face.

“What the…” Eddie grumbles in a scratchy, sleepy voice. “What’s going on?

He rubs his bleary eyes and sees that Brittany is sitting on the edge of the bed, her back to him.

“Britt?”

Eddie stumbles to his feet and clicks on his bedside lamp before walking around the bed to check on his wife. The first thing he notices is that the crotch of her nightgown and the sheets below her are wet.

Wow, this baby must really be messing with her bladder if—wait.

“Your water broke?” Eddie's voice suddenly has no trace of sleepiness in it.

“Yeah.”

Brittany isn’t looking at him. Instead, she looks down at her hands resting on her large bump.

“Come on, let’s get you changed,” Eddie says, gently slipping his hand beneath one of her arms so he can help her up.

Brittany groans once she’s on her feet and Eddie hurriedly turns towards their dresser and digs for something she can change into.

“Contractions?” Eddie asks as he grabs a pair of sweatpants.

“Mhmm.”

“It’s okay,” he assures her.

Eddie quickly helps Brittany into her clothes and grabs her already prepared overnight bag from the closet. He slowly leads his wife into the living room so she can rest on the couch while he grabs Ryan.

The twenty-two-month-old is sleeping soundly in his crib. Eddie hates to disturb him, but the ball is already in motion.

“Wha?” Ryan croaks as Eddie scoops him up and holds him against his chest.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” he tells his son. “Go back to sleep.”

Ryan thunks his head down on Eddie’s shoulder and immediately begins lightly snoring.

The soft whistle in his ear makes Eddie smile as he steps into the kitchen to use the nearest phone. He quickly dials a number he knows by heart and waits for someone to pick up at the plant.

“Yeah, hi, is Wayne there? Yeah, Munson,” Eddie says into the receiver. He hikes Ryan up a little higher on his chest while he waits for the phone to get passed.

“Hello?”

Eddie’s never been happier to hear that gruff voice.

“Hey! It’s, uh, me. So, Brittany’s water broke and Ryan needs—”

“I’ll punch out right now and meet ya at the trailer.”

God, Eddie loves his uncle.

“Okay, see you there.”

Eddie heads back into the living room and helps Brittany up with one hand while the other keeps a good hold on Ryan. Somehow, Eddie manages to get them both in the car, all buckled and ready to go.

“Whew.” Eddie takes a deep breath in the driver’s seat. He takes one more before he starts the car. “Here we go.”

The moment Eddie walks through the front door, he makes sure you’re sitting down and comfortable. Sitting down? Yes. Comfortable? Not so much.

But you’re content with your peanut butter and banana sandwich as your husband presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Nine minutes apart,” you inform him through a mouthful of peanut butter.

Eddie chuckles at the muffled words.

“Okay. I’m gonna get changed, then call Wayne so he can be here for when the boys get home.”

You nod and take another bite of your sandwich.

Eddie comes back just as another contraction is starting. You set your plate down on the couch to your right and Eddie takes a seat on the other side of you. One of your hands braces you against the cushion you’re sitting on, and Eddie slips his hand into your free one.

“Just squeeze my hand, okay? And breathe.”

The pulsating wracks your body as you focus on taking in a large lungful of air. You hold it for a few seconds, counting time by the number of gentle squeezes you give Eddie’s hand, then let it out.

“Ugh,” you groan when the pain releases you. You flop back on the couch, tipping your chin up as you try and catch your breath. “That was the longest one so far.”

“We’ll start timing that too,” Eddie says.

He presses a kiss to your cheek before pressing a few to the back of your hands. His hands stall when you let out a deep sigh.

“Do you not want me to be touching you? What do you need?” There’s a shake in his voice that angers you, because you know exactly why and who made him unsure of how to comfort a woman in labor.

“Yes, I want you to touch me,” you say, grabbing his hand in both of yours. “Your touch calms me.”

It doesn’t escape your notice that his shoulders sag in relief before he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Just let me know what you want me to do,” he says.

“This,” you reply, leaning into his arms. Your eyes slip closed as you snuggle up to the warmth of his body. “Want you.”

“I’m not leaving your side, princess,” he assures you. “Do you want to watch a movie?”

You nod against his neck and Eddie swipes up the remote. He flips through the channels, but it’s the middle of a Tuesday, so there’s not a whole lot on.

“I can grab a tape or a DVD?” your husband offers.

You shake your head, holding onto him even tighter.

“Don’t want you to move. Whatever you find is fine.”

“Alright, well…I guess we’ll watch The Scarlet Pimpernel.”

Eddie feels your chuckle rumble against his chest.

“That’s fine,” you say.

It’s only seconds before another contraction starts, and Eddie can tell by the way your fingertips dig into him. This one lasts about as long as the previous one, and you’re able to get semi-comfortable against your husband again.

The house is quiet, the two of you on the couch, watching a movie that neither of you have any real interest in. The low volume only makes the loud pop that echoes through the room even more pronounced.

“My water just…”

“Yes, it did.”

A heavy pause hangs in the air as the two of you stare at one another. It’s obvious you have to get up and get going now, but the realization that this is really happening is sinking in for you both.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out in a whisper.

This breaks Eddie out of his trance. He starts to laugh and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Here we go, sweetheart.”

He helps you up off the couch and into your room so you can change clothes. With your husband's help, you slip into a dry pair of sweatpants, an oversized Ghostbusters t-shirt Luke got you when you complained that there were no comfy maternity shirts, and one of Eddie’s hoodies on top of it—even though you can’t zip it up. Your old college backpack has been filled with supplies for weeks, all in preparation for this moment. Eddie slides onto one of his shoulders and walks with you to the front door.

Just as the two of you step into the living room, the door opens. Wayne steps inside and it takes four seconds for his eyes to go from you to Eddie, to the bag hanging on his shoulder, then back to you.

“Thank God you’re here,” you sigh in relief.

If for some reason he hadn’t arrived here before the boys got home, you knew they’d be okay for a while, but you’ll be able to relax more knowing that their grandpa is here with them.

“Heading out to the hospital?” Wayne asks.

“Yeah,” Eddie answers with a nod. “Her water broke.”

A smile graces the older man’s features, and it softens him.

“You got this, darlin’,” he says as he opens the front door wide enough for you and Eddie to get through.

You shoot him a grateful smile as you step outside.

“We’ll call when we have any update,” Eddie tells his uncle.

Wayne just nods and pats Eddie on the back as he passes. The two of you walk to your car together and Wayne watches from the entryway, not wanting to go inside yet in case he can help in any way.

Once you’re securely in the car, Eddie waves to Wayne before slipping into the driver’s seat. As he adjusts the rearview mirror, his eyes catch on the car seat that’s been installed for the past two weeks. It brings a smile to his face as he starts the engine.

“Let’s have us a baby,” Eddie says as he shifts the car into reverse.

As soon as you arrive at the hospital, it’s very quick work when Eddie alerts them you’re in labor. You’re brought right to a room and hooked up to lines and so many wires you’re not even sure what they’re all for.

Your doctor shows up not too long after you’re settled into your bed and says you’re not quite ready to push yet. Your contractions are getting closer together, but they’re not quite at the active labor phase yet.

Now after being hurried up to this room and all set up to go, there’s nothing to do. The flurry of activity kept your mind off the pain that was creeping up in intensity each time it snuck up on you. But now that there’s nothing to occupy your mind, it feels like it’s all that fills your head.

“Do you want some pain meds, baby?” Eddie asks, slipping his hand into yours.

He must’ve noticed the way you were gritting your teeth hard enough to wear them down to nubs.

“I can have some?” you ask.

“Sure, sweetheart. Let me go get the nurse.”

Eddie is right and the nurse is able to administer some medicine that allows you to relax a little. It takes enough of the edge off that you’re able to focus on and appreciate Eddie’s attempts to distract you from the pain and boredom.

Your husband had prepared ahead of time and had slipped his battered and well-loved copy of The Two Towers into your overnight bag. He now brings the story to life for you, reading with such passion, and doing different funny voices for the different characters.

“‘Beren now, he never thought he was going to get that Silmaril from the Iron Crown in Thangorodrim, and yet he did, and that was a worse place and a blacker danger than ours,’” Eddie reads to you. “‘But that’s a long tale, of course, and goes on past the happiness and into grief and beyond it – and the Silmaril went on and came to Eärendil. And why, sir, I never thought of that before! We’ve got – you’ve got some of the light of it in that star-glass that the Lady gave you! Why, to think of it, we’re in the same tale still! It’s going on. Don’t the great tales never end?’ ‘No, they never end as tales,’ said Frodo. ‘But the people in them come, and go when their part’s ended. Our part will end later – or sooner.’”

Then it’s time for the doctor to check how dilated you are and the timing of your contractions. It’s still not time, she tells you with a sympathetic smile before heading out to attend to other patients.

Now, Eddie finds a pile of old magazines and newspapers strewn about a small table in the corner. He picks up an outdated print of the Washington Post at random, sits in the chair he’s positioned near your head, and begins to read a news article in an over-the-top news anchor voice.

“The first musical number epitomized the kind of commercialized outrageousness that MTV has perfected in recent years. It featured Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera, decked out in white wedding ensembles in a homage to Madonna, who famously wore a wedding dress on MTV's first Video Music Awards broadcast in 1984, when she performed ‘Like a Virgin.’ Madonna appeared dressed as a groom, and the number, which also briefly featured Missy Elliott, provided the evening's first gyrating rumps, as well as a truly yechy moment: The sight of oversexed old Madonna tongue-kissing oversexed young Spears. It didn't seem outrageous or sultry; it smacked of desperation.”

“Such outrage,” you joke with a shake of your head.

“Kids today,” Eddie says with an over dramatic sigh. “All their music is just noise.”

You giggle and reach for his hand. He gladly takes it and laces his fingers with yours.

“How are you feeling, princess?”

“I’m good,” you tell him, giving his hand a squeeze. “My wonderful, loving husband is doing a great job of keeping me entertained.”

A smile that can only be described as adoring grows on Eddie’s face. He leans forward and presses kisses to your knuckles.

“Anything for you.”

By the time the hospital staff gets Brittany up to her room and hooked up to all the equipment, the doctor says it’s not long before she can start pushing. Which also means that there’s no time to give her any drugs—no matter how much she begs.

“Ugh! This sucks,” Brittany complains once it’s just her and Eddie in the room.

“I know,” Eddie says.

“Do you?” she snaps back.

“I mean, I…” Eddie stutters over his words. “I was there when Ryan was born. I know the pain you were in then.”

“At least they were able to give me something for pain then. Now I can’t even get a fucking Tylenol.”

“Do you want to talk about something to keep your mind off it?” Eddie offers. He scoots his chair up to the edge of the bed and rests a hand on Brittany’s blanket-covered thigh.

“Fine,” the blonde grunts out. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Um…what about middle names? We haven’t decided yet.”

“Didn’t we?” Brittany sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose.

“No,” Eddie replies. “Just first names. Luke for boy, Lucy for girl.”

“Fine. So, Ryan’s middle name is after your uncle because you just had to do that,” Brittany rolls her eyes and shrugs her shoulders. “What about from my family?”

“What names do you like?” Eddie says between clenched teeth. She's having my baby, she’s having my baby, she’s having my baby, he reminds himself over and over again.

“Anatoly,” Brittany says. “For a boy.”

“Luke Anatoly Munson.” Eddie wrinkles his nose at how the name sounds out loud. “I don’t think that goes.”

“Fine.” Brittany’s silent for a moment as she considers other names. “Andrei?”

Eddie internally sighs. He’s always thought it was cool that much of Brittany’s family emigrated from Russia, but the land’s native names don’t flow well with “Luke Munson.”

“Aleksandr,” Brittany suggests, pulling Eddie out of his own head.

“Huh.”

Eddie leans back in his chair, letting the name roll around his brain. It's a good one, he thinks. But…

“Should we use the American spelling?” Eddie asks.

“Why, so he can be named after your dad?” Brittany bites out.

The room is silent as Eddie furrows his brow. He shakes his head in confusion as a nurse steps in to check on the monitors Brittany is hooked up to.

“That’s not…Britt, that isn’t my dad’s name.”

“What?” Brittany stares at her husband as if he has three heads. “Of course it is.”

“People called him ‘Al’, yeah,” Eddie starts. “But his full name is Alan. Not Alexander.”

“Oh.” Brittany waves a hand dismissively as if not knowing her husband’s dad’s name after years together is nothing—a common mistake, even.

Eddie shakes his head, shoving the irritation to the back of his mind for the time being. There will be plenty of time later to be annoyed by Brittany’s ignorance and apathy. After the baby is born.

The tension grows in his neck, so Eddie rolls his shoulders and leans back in his chair.

“So, Luke Alexander Munson for a boy?” Eddie checks.

“Sure,” Brittany says as another contraction washes over her. The way her eyes squeeze shut so tightly and her teeth clench with a vengeance pangs Eddie’s heart.

“And for a girl,” Brittany grits out, obviously trying to talk through the pain in an attempt to ignore it, “Lucy Alexandra Munson.”

“That’s pretty.”

Eddie goes to take his wife’s hand as her body relaxes from the fading contraction. But Brittany snatches her hand back.

“Please, just don’t…touch me.”

“Okay. Sorry.”

Eddie barely has time to feel the sting of rejection before the doctor is back in the room to check on Brittany’s progress.

“Good news,” the doctor announces. “You’re dilated enough. It’s time to start pushing.”

“Oh boy,” Brittany mutters, trying to garner strength from her exhausted body.

The room is a flurry of activity as nurses prepare everything the doctor might need.

Eddie stands and goes to reach for his wife’s hand before remembering she doesn’t want to be touched. But as another contraction wracks her body, Brittany reaches up and grabs his hand. It brings a small smile to Eddie’s lips, despite how hard she’s gripping it because of her pain.

“Alright, Brittany,” the doctor says as he gets into position at the end of the bed, “we’re going to try pushing now.”

“We?” Brittany barks out in a strained and breathless laugh.

“Well, mostly you,” the doctor teases as a nurse goes to stand on Brittany’s other side, opposite of Eddie.

“Alright, honey,” the nurse says, putting one hand on Brittany’s shoulder. “Push when the doctor counts to three.”

“One, two…”

He doesn’t even get to three before Brittany starts squeezing the life out of Eddie’s hand. Eddie just clenches his teeth and takes it though, willing to soak up any pain that he can from his wife.

“Jesus, fuck!” Brittany shouts through her pushing. Her face is already sweaty, matting hair to her forehead. Eddie’s quick to brush it away with his free hand.

“You’re doing so good, Britt,” Eddie encourages. “You’ve got this.”

Brittany nods, either in acknowledgment of his words or just because she wants him to shut up.

“Almost there, Mrs. Munson,” the doctor says.

Eddie’s eyes widen in surprise. When Ryan was born, they were at it for a while before he decided to make his grand entrance into the world. People had told him that second babies tend to come out quicker, but Eddie didn’t know this one was practically banging down the door to get out.

“This one’s got some mettle,” Eddie says.

“Just like Dad,” Brittany grits out and it takes Eddie a second to get her joke.

Mettle, metal? He got it.

Eddie huffs a laugh, honestly impressed by her ability to come up with a joke while she’s trying to pass a human being through her body.

“Okay, now just one more biiig push,” the doctor says.

“Come on, hun,” Eddie cheers, bracing his hand against Brittany’s as she channels everything in her to push.

“Almost there, almost there…” the doctor repeats.

Suddenly the shrill sound of an infant wailing fills the small room. It’s the most beautiful sound Eddie has ever heard.

“It’s a boy,” the doctor announces, holding the newborn up enough for the parents to see.

Brittany drops Eddie’s hand out of pure exhaustion, but there’s a smile on her face as she drops back against the pillows. The baby is handed to a nurse for initial cleanup.

“I’m so proud of you,” Eddie says softly to Brittany.

She tilts her head up and gives him a sleepy smile.

The softness in her gaze has Eddie leaning down to press a kiss to her lips. Surprisingly, she kisses him back.

“Would you like to cut the cord, Dad?” the doctor asks.

“Yes,” Eddie responds before the doctor can even finish the question.

He walks down to the foot of the bed and takes the pair of scissors to the umbilical cord, snipping it in two. Eddie hands the scissors back blindly, as his eyes never leave his newborn son. No detail escapes his notice as he watches a nurse gently take him and lay him on Brittany’s chest.

“Oh, hi,” Brittany says, one hand covering the entirety of his little back.

Eddie comes back up to the head of the bed and beams down at his wife and baby. Brittany glances up at him, then back down.

“Look at this beautiful boy,” Eddie coos.

Brittany chuckles and Eddie leans down to kiss her head, then the newborn’s.

“Beautiful little Luke,” Brittany says.

A nurse takes him back to fully clean him up and swaddle him in a soft white blanket.

“You want to hold him?” the nurse asks Eddie.

“Yes.” Eddie nods emphatically and holds out his arms.

The moment the gentle weight lands in his arms, Eddie’s eyes fill with tears.

“Hi, my boy.”

“To place a call outside of the hospital, please press nine.”

Eddie does as the automated voice tells him and leans back in his chair. You let your head loll to the side, the scratchy pillow brushing against your cheek as you watch your husband. This brief respite from contractions allows you to smile when you hear the echo of Ryan’s voice come from the phone.

“Hey, you,” Eddie says, grinning as well. “How was school?”

“Good! Isthebabyhereyet?”

His eagerness makes Eddie chuckle.

“No, no baby yet. Just figured I’d check in with you guys.”

“What he say?!” Luke shouts in the background.

“No baby!” Ryan tells him.

The phone shuffles back and forth before Luke says, “Just share it!”

“Uh, you both there?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah!” they say at the same time.

“Did you ask—”

“Not yet, I—”

Eddie tilts his head to the side as they bicker. He somehow deciphers that they want to talk to you.

“You can talk to her if you hush up and behave.”

Both boys fall silent at that. There’s a small pause before Ryan says, “Okay.”

“Good.” Eddie nods and hands the phone over to you.

“Hello?”

“Hi!” two young voices call at the same time.

“How do you feel?” Ryan asks.

As if his question summoned it, a contraction rears its ugly head. Your forehead furrows as you try to ignore it and focus on the conversation with the boys.

“I’m doing okay.”

“Do you hurt?” Luke asks.

Your free hand bangs against the bed rail in an attempt to keep from shouting in pain. Eddie sits up straighter in his chair, concern filling his eyes. He motions to the phone, silently asking if you want him to take it back.

“Little bit,” you grit out to answer Luke while shaking your head to answer Eddie.

“Did they give you any medicine?” Ryan asks.

“Yeah, a while ago. So, uh, what did you guys do at school today?”

“Nothing really,” Luke says. “Oh, you and Dad have to come down to the school and get the meat thermometer.”

“The what?” you ask.

“The meat thermometer.”

“Luke, what are you talking about?”

Eddie looks at you, questioningly, and you shrug your shoulders.

“Me and my friend Kevin wanted to test the temperature of the cafeteria hot dogs, so I brought the meat thermometer. But then we got caught and the lunch lady took it. So now you need to get it.”

“You did what?” You hear Wayne’s muffled shout.

“We wanted to make sure it was safe!” Luke defends.

The contraction finally releases you and you’re able to relax as much as you can in the lumpy hospital bed.

“What about you, Ry?” you ask.

“I didn’t care how hot the meat was,” he says, completely serious.

You laugh and it helps your body wash away that lingering whisper of pain.

“No,” you say. “What did you do at school today?”

“We have to write papers for history class, and we started today.”

“Oh yeah? What’s the paper on?” you ask, trying to think of anything except the next contraction.

“Everyone got assigned some kind of job we have to study. I got dentist.”

“And what did you learn today?” As much as Luke’s shenanigans can keep you entertained, they can also stress you out. But Ryan loves to go into detail about what he’s working on at school and this shall hopefully provide you with a relaxing distraction.

“Uhh…” Ryan hums as he thinks. “The first dental school in America was founded by Horace H. Hayden and Chaplin A. Harris.”

“When?” you press.

“1840. In Maryland, in case you were gonna ask!”

It’s impossible not to smile at how well the boy knows you.

“Good job, Ry,” you tell him. “I’m proud of you.”

The beginnings of a new contraction appear, and your fingers tighten around the phone receiver. You spy your doctor out in the hallway and use it as an excuse.

“Alright, boys,” you start, “my doctor is coming so I gotta go, okay? Daddy will call when there’s an update.”

“Okay,” Ryan says.

“Love you!” Luke adds.

“I love you both, too.

Eddie hangs up the phone for you just as your doctor actually does walk into your room.

“How are we feeling Mrs. Munson?” she asks you.

You’ve been “Mrs. Munson” for eight months now but it still gives you butterflies every time you hear it.

“Contraction-y,” you tell Dr. Hahn.

She chuckles and nods her head in understanding.

“That makes sense, you know, with the contractions and all.” She tugs two medical gloves out of the box marked “medium”. “Alright, I’m just gonna check how your dilation is going.”

As you lay back to let the doctor do her thing, Eddie leans forward and raises an eyebrow at you.

“Should I be concerned about whatever it is that Luke did now?” he asks.

“I think it’s okay,” you say with a chuckle. “Apparently, you just have to go to school to pick up a meat thermometer he brought to check the temperature of the school hot dogs.”

Eddie stares at you, his face almost as blank and emotionless as you’ve ever seen it. You can practically see his brain attempting to digest this information, but it thinks it’s reading the data incorrectly.

“He what?” Eddie finally asks.

Luckily, Dr. Hahn saves you from admitting you have no idea what goes on in the mind of Luke Munson.

“Well, Mrs. Munson,” Dr. Hahn says, “the time has arrived. You’re fully dilated now; time to start pushing.”

You’ve known all along that you’d have to do this—hell, you’ve known it for about eight months now—but the reality of actually pushing a person out of your body is sobering. How did this moment finally arrive? Weren’t you and Eddie just sitting on the bathroom floor, waiting for the results of the pregnancy test? And now you’re supposed to start pushing? You feel as if you’ve had no time to prepare. Prepare for this labor, prepare for taking the baby home, prepare to be a fully-fledged mom to a newborn.

A moment of serenity washes over you as your mind reminds you of one important factor, though: this is your and Eddie’s baby. You are bringing a child into this world that is half you and half the man you love. A baby who is the product of the love that you both easily fell into and fought like hell to make work. Suddenly, labor doesn’t seem so bad. It may hurt, but to you it is a privilege and honor to bring this little girl, and everything she stands for, into the world.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah,” you assure him with a small smile. “I’m ready to meet our baby.”

The infectious grin that spreads on Eddie’s face warms your heart and gives you a boost of strength to get this show on the road.

Eddie stands up as Dr. Hahn gets everything situated. He slips his hand into yours and leans down to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

“I’m right here with you, princess,” he says softly. “You’re the strongest woman—no, person I know.”

His words have your eyes filling with tears and the hormones certainly aren’t helping.

“I love you so much, Eddie.”

“I love you, too.”

“Oh, here comes another contraction,” Dr. Hahn says, looking at the monitors that you’re hooked up to. “We’re gonna try pushing on this one, Mrs. Munson, okay?”

“Okay.”

The wobble in your voice is clear. Eddie presses a kiss to the back of your hand. Just as his lips brush your skin, you feel the now-familiar pressure that precedes a contraction.

“Oof,” you groan as the intensity increases.

“Alright, now…push,” Dr. Hahn instructs.

You take the deepest breath that your pain will allow, grit your teeth, and clutch your husband’s hand as you begin to push.

“Great job, Mrs. Munson,” Dr. Hahn praises. “Keep it going.”

And it does keep going. And going. And going.

But fifty-three minutes later, you hear the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard in your life.

Shrill, high-pitched wails fill the room, and you immediately begin sobbing.

“Here she is,” Dr. Hahn says, holding her at an angle you can see. “Congratulations, Mom and Dad.”

Even covered in vernix and blood, your new daughter is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. A nurse places her on your chest, and the moment you feel that skin-to-skin contact with her, you’re done for. She already has you wrapped around her little finger.

The newborn continues her cries, escalating to a new pitch every time she gets another lungful of air. It’s as if she’s a royal, informing all her subjects of her many woes.

Eddie leans in and kisses your lips, the tears on your face mingling with the ones on his. When your husband pulls back to stare at his baby girl, his face is filled with awe and adoration.

“She’s here,” he whispers to no one in particular.

“Do you want to cut the cord, Mr. Munson?” Dr. Hahn asks.

Eddie reaches for the scissors a nurse is holding out to him and he has them in his hand before you could say “Ryan and Luke’s new baby sister.”

This is Eddie’s third time doing this, so he knows right where to line the scissors up even before Dr. Hahn instructs him. Eddie severs the cord and a nurse takes the baby so she can have a proper cleaning.

Neither your nor Eddie’s eyes leave the newborn as she’s swaddled up in a nice warm blanket.

“Do we have a name yet?” The nurse asks as she slides a pink hat onto the tiny baby’s head.

“Eliza,” you say proudly. Tears fill your eyes at the sound of her name out loud. Out loud now that she’s here. This precious little bean that’s been growing inside of you for so long is finally here, a real little person you get to hold and love on.

“Eliza Marie Munson,” Eddie says, the same emotions that you’re going through reflecting in his voice.

“Well, Dad,” the nurse says as she picks up Eliza and turns towards Eddie. “Would you like to hold your baby girl Eliza?”

Your husband nods emphatically, reminding you of Luke when he’s asked if he wants to go to the toy store. The nurse gently transfers Eliza to her father’s arms, and you watch as his face morphs as he holds his daughter for the first time.

“H-Hi, Eliza.” Eddie sniffs and clears his throat, trying to shove the tears away. “I can’t believe you’re finally here. I can’t believe that I actually have a daughter.” Slowly, Eddie leans in to press his lips to her soft, smooth forehead. Eliza coos and her face scrunches up adorably. “You wanna know something, Eliza? You have the best mommy in the world. And now I have the two most perfect girls in the world.”

Eddie looks up at you with a gentle smile. Tears are falling down your cheeks so rapidly that it feels like you’re playing whack-a-mole as you try to wipe them all away.

Your husband stands next to the bed and nods at you, signaling for you to ready your arms for the baby. You gladly accept the warm little bundle, and more tears begin to cascade as you gaze down at her gorgeous little face.

“Hi, baby girl. I’m your mommy.” Saying the words aloud sounds odd to your ears. Sure, you’ve basically been a mother to Luke and Ryan for years now, but you never introduced yourself to them as “mommy.” But that’s what you are, from Eliza’s first breath, you’re her mom for her entire life.

“You okay?” Eddie asks. He reaches down and rubs a warm hand against your shoulder.

“I’m wonderful,” you say. “It’s weird, though. Having Eliza from this very first moment of her life, I now wish even more that I could’ve known the boys as soon as they came into the world.”

Eddie lets out a soft chuckle and places a kiss to the top of your head.

“Trust me, princess. This has been the least dramatic and stressful of all the kids’ births.”

You chuckle as well, and the sound seems to tickle Eliza. Her tiny head moves from side to side slowly, as if she’s shaking her head no in slow motion.

“I can’t wait for them to meet her,” you say.

“Guess I need to make a phone call home.”

The door to the hospital room clearly needs some oil as it squeaks open. Wayne steps inside, a curious Ryan in his arms. The almost-two-year-old gazes around the room with wide eyes, taking in all the unfamiliar equipment.

“Hey, you!” Eddie says as he takes the little boy from his uncle. “Did you have a good day with Grandpa?”

“Yep,” Ryan says, still taking in his new surroundings. “Play catch.”

“You played catch?” Eddie asks, his pitch rising in that faux excitement adults use when talking to young children.

“Uh huh!”

“That sounds like fun. Guess what?”

“What?”

“You’re a big brother now,” Eddie tells him.

“Baby?” Ryan asks.

“Yes! Mommy had the baby. Do you want to meet him?”

Ryan nods enthusiastically, trying to look around his dad’s head to catch a glimpse of his mother. She comes into view as Eddie turns and walks towards the hospital bed, where Brittany is cradling a sleeping Luke.

Eddie gently sets his older son down on the bed next to his mom.

“Hi, Ryan,” Brittany says softly. “Come here, look at the baby.”

Cautiously, Ryan shuffles forward and peers at the blanket-wrapped bundle.

“This is your little brother, Ry,” Eddie says. “You guys are going to be best friends.”

“Do you want to hold him, Wayne?” Brittany asks, fighting back a yawn.

“‘Course.”

Brittany carefully hands him over, and Wayne looks down at his new grandson in absolute wonder.

“Well, aren’t you the sweetest baby?” Wayne says to Luke.

As the older man cradles the baby, Ryan stands up and taps his dad’s arm. Eddie hums in question and raises his eyebrows at the toddler.

“Up, up,” Ryan says, holding his arms up.

It melts Eddie’s heart that Ryan wants to be held up next to his new brother. The room is quiet, save for the echoes of hospital sounds drifting in.

Luke starts to squirm, unable to move much in his swaddled state.

“Britt?” Eddie looks over his shoulder at his wife. “Do you have the pacifier?”

“Oh, yeah.” The blue pacifier that Luke has already shown an affinity for is on the bedside table, and Brittany hands it to her husband, who pops it into the baby’s mouth. Immediately, Luke calms back down, sucking furiously as he slips back into sleep.

Ryan leans over as far as he can in his dad’s arms, peering down at his brother in awe.

“My baby,” Ryan declares.

The adults in the room chuckle.

“Can you say hi to Luke, Ryan?” Eddie asks, rubbing his hand up and down the elder boy’s back.

Ryan grins, his adorable baby teeth on display. He’s mesmerized by the new family member, and it fills Eddie with a warmth he’s never felt before. Ryan tries to lean over even more, wanting to be as close as possible.

“Hi, Luke!”

The comfortable quiet in the hospital room cocoons you, your husband, and your daughter as you all lounge in the bed. Your head rests on Eddie’s shoulder while Eliza sleeps soundly in his arms. Both of you are just staring at her, already completely wrapped around her little finger.

“She’s so beautiful,” you whisper.

“Just like her mom,” Eddie replies, just as quiet.

“Her mom needs a shower,” you say. “Badly. I feel all gross after getting all sweaty.”

“You still looked gorgeous, even giving birth.” Eddie turns his head and presses a kiss to your hair.

The slight movement causes Eliza to fuss, wiggling like a little worm in her father’s grip. Her whines hurt your heart.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Eddie coos. He lays his head against yours.

Eddie begins to hum, and you quickly recognize the song as Sweet Child O’ Mine. All it takes is a minute of her dad’s soothing tone to lull the baby girl right back to sleep.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #older!eddie #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #dad!eddie #AYW #AYWS #request

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6fangz · 5 days ago

Text

SOMETHING ON YOUR MIND

⋆ ♰.˚🦇⌗ ˎˊ˗

synopsis: sergeant williams has been on your case since the second you moved to town; the loathing is palpable, and yet something seems to draw you back together

warnings: there is a reference to being sl*pped in this (not ellie, very vague no detail) but pls read at your own risk (!), age gap (reader is 23, ellie is 28) starts kinda angry ig, some fluff, ends w smut, fingering (reader receives), this was my excuse to write southern ellie w a drawl

southern!officer!ellie x rebellious!fem!reader

MDNI 18 +

a/n: alright…hear me out on this one i swear i had a vision. it’s long and i still dk if this came together the way i wanted it to but whatever here it is anyways enjoy and i hope today was #fab ok bye

the sun peeks through your curtains, shining directly in your face as you stir awake. you run a hand over your eyes in annoyance.

the alarm clock on your nightstand lets you know it’s barely nine in the morning, which is still way too early to be conscious in your book. you bury your head back under your pillow.

but then you hear it; a bang on the front door of your beat up single wide. you don’t get up at first, because you don’t know who it could be and therefore you don’t care.

yet whoever it is remains persistent, knocking and knocking until you just can’t take it anymore.

you drag yourself out of your bed begrudgingly and shrug on a sweatshirt, tucking your feet into your beloved dino slippers out of habit.

your shoulders are heavy as you walk down the hall, so you roll them in an attempt to ease the tension. it doesn’t really work, and the pounding is bringing on a headache at this point.

“i’m fucking coming!”

you swing the door open a moment later, finding yourself face to face with none other than sergeant williams herself.

her cowboy hat is tilted low on her head, choppy hair framing her shaded face, but you can still see that she’s angry. the little line between her brows is a dead giveaway.

you smirk instinctively, hand perched on your hip as you squint at her. “ah, sarge. i’d say good morning, but it’s not.”

“nice shoes,” she grumbles in response, eyes sweeping over the rest of your disheveled state, “didn’t realize you’d be sleeping in.”

her comment actually does make you a little self conscious, enough to tug your sorry excuse for shorts down to cover yourself a bit more.

“well i was trying to, but you just woke me up, so how about we get on with whatever this is?”

ellie glares a little harder, thumb hooked in the waistband of her pants. “fine, you happen to slash noah bennett’s tires last night? cuz he’s real certain you did.”

the answer to that question is yes, but she doesn’t have anything on you. if she did, then you’d already be in her handcuffs on the way to the station.

you’re too careful for her regardless, and that makes you smile. “nope, wasn’t me. that’s hysterical, though.”

“i’m sure y’think it’s funny. got an alibi, kid?” she pushes, country drawl on full display.

you don’t shy away. “i was working the closing shift at the bar. ask literally anyone.”

also true; you were bartending last night, just like you normally are, but you had taken an extra long smoke break to visit noah’s most prized possession.

he respects that dumbass truck more than the women in his life, let alone women in general, and he deserved every bit of it after being a dickhead for so long.

you’ve never had a problem personally delivering karma, and nobody gets away with harassing a girl on shift.

at least not while you’re around.

the suspicion is written all over ellie’s face, but she’s grasping at straws and you both know it.

“i already have. but i needed to hear it straight from the accused herself.”

“aw, if you missed me you could’ve just said so.” you tease, placing a hand to your chest like you’re charmed.

she shakes her head in disbelief. “trust me when i say i cherish every moment you’re not makin’ my life more complicated.”

the thing is that you don’t trust her words, especially not when you swear she glances down at your lips as she says them. but it also makes your throat seize in a way you hate.

“great, we’re on the same page. now am i free to go or what?”

ellie has to gnaw on the inside of her cheek to keep herself from saying no. there’s not a logical reason to hold you up any longer, especially without any real evidence.

it was just important to follow up on every lead. right?

“yeah…suppose so. but i have a funny feelin’ i’ll be seeing you again soon.” she straightens and takes a few steps down your front porch.

“can’t wait.” you shoot back, not bothering to stick around for a response before you slam the door shut.

it satisfies you for a moment to let out some of your frustration, but the urge to scream follows you back to bed anyways.

ellie has been on your case since the moment you two met, and never once has she given you a chance.

she made up her mind about you then, that you’re just some burnout loser causing trouble in her jurisdiction. and you can’t say that description is too far off base.

but she doesn’t really know your life, and she never will. you’re not even sure that she experiences enough empathy to try.

so why does her opinion bother you so much?

you squeeze your eyes shut harder, trying to force your brain to be quiet. one of these days she’s going to drive you completely insane.

ellie remembers when you first moved to the area, over five years ago now. you were only eighteen, but already so set in your ways.

she was a few months out of academy, twenty three and very green in terms of her career. in fact, you were the first person she ever pulled over on a solo shift.

it immediately fazed her that she didn’t recognize you, considering everyone had practically known each other since birth. you were so nonchalant, so not threatened, and it made her crazy.

you just snapped your gum as she ran your plates, huffing like a brat when she ended up giving you a speeding ticket.

“seriously? i’m new to town, i didn’t even see the damn signs.”

“all five of ‘em, huh?” she spit back, though she regretted it instantly.

you looked at her with the fire of a thousand suns, and everything changed. the rivalry, the chase, began in that moment.

you slipped your sunglasses back over your face, smiling to yourself like something was funny. “make them a little bigger and maybe i’ll listen.”

ellie had hardly retreated before you sped off, turning the bend and disappearing completely before she had even gotten back to her car.

you’ve always been two steps ahead since. too smart for your own good, in her opinion.

she’d grown in the ranks remarkably fast, becoming the youngest sergeant in town history, and you still don’t take her seriously.

honestly, she doesn’t take herself seriously around you either. not any more at least. you’re a different woman now, somehow even more real and hardened by life.

maybe that’s what truly vexes ellie; she understands you, but you make it so difficult to not retaliate. every second the two of you interact it feels like her whole body is on fire.

she can barely keep herself together and it’s mortifying.

in fact, she’d initially wanted to go home tonight and enjoy a couple glasses of whiskey, forget all about you for a little while.

then she happened to drive by the abandoned strip mall and that plan went to hell.

your car sits alone in the lot, tucked away so it’s barely illuminated in the dying sun. but she’d recognize that model and color combination anywhere, and she can see you walking back to it as she swerves across the street without a second thought.

you’re in the middle of opening your driver's side door when ellie pulls up and flashes her lights briefly.

you roll your eyes on instinct. the last thing you were hoping for tonight was another lecture, but you turn to face her direction anyways.

she steps out of her vehicle and strolls over, readjusting the brim of her worn stetson. you swear she never takes that damn thing off.

“figured it’d be you.” she states plainly.

you tilt your head. “figured what would be me?”

she shoots you a look, genuinely surprised that you’re playing dumb with her about this one.

“the vandalism. noticed it a while back, but i couldn’t be sure i was right until i caught you.”

you cross your arms over your chest defensively. “first of all, it’s not vandalism, it’s art. and second of all, why would you assume it was me? i just went on a walk.”

she huffs out a soft laugh, and to your surprise she reaches her hand toward you.

you manage to stop yourself from flinching as ellie wraps her fingers around your wrist, untangling your arm gently so she can get a better look at the lingering spray paint.

it left a stains despite how hard you had scrubbed at it with wipes when you were done.

“wanna tell me the truth now?” she prompts, and you force yourself to meet her eyes.

her touch is unbelievably tender compared to her harsh exterior and rough hands, and it makes your heart wilt.

but you don’t let yourself think about it for long.

instead, you wrench out of her grasp and get right back to arguing. “fine, maybe it was me. but this building is literally ancient and i’m just making it look nicer, so what’s it to you?”

it kind of wounds her that you pulled away, but she can’t blame you either. she’d probably do the same in your position.

ellie tries not to let her damaged pride show when she finally answers.

“y’know, i actually agree with you for once.”

you don’t think she could’ve stunned you more if she tried. you’re not even sure that she’s ever said anything genuinely nice, at least not to your face.

“very funny.” you snark, because you still can’t believe it.

but she doubles down. “seriously, m’not here to take you in. nobody’s bought the mall in nearly thirty years anyways, and i really do like your paintings.”

her voice is warmer, sincere. she’s telling the truth for once.

you clasp your hands behind your back to keep yourself from fidgeting nervously. it’s unusual for her to catch you so off guard, but she’s enjoying the moment while it lasts.

there’s a flutter in your stomach that’s getting harder to ignore. you’re shoving it away with all of your willpower but it doesn’t help at all.

“oh. i, um…thanks.” you finally stutter it out.

she motions toward the building sheepishly. “show me the latest?”

your eyes widen even further; this interaction is not at all going how you expected it to. it isn’t what ellie had in mind either, but you’re both appreciating it all the same.

she really had been visiting the mall a little too frequently since she discovered your work. you’re the only person nearby with a creative bone in their body, so it was easy to figure you out.

it became a habit to check in and see if you’d added anything. every new piece was so intricate, and she loved each one for different reasons.

she didn’t intend to admit that to your face though, and she’s beginning to regret it until you pivot on your heel, adjusting your tote as you lead the way.

“alright. but this better not be a fucking trap or something.”

ellie is quick to follow suit, matching your pace as you walk. “not a trap, kid, i promise.”

“i have a name, by the way, and i’m sure as hell not a child.” you remind her briskly.

“really? must’ve forgotten.” she deadpans.

you smile slightly despite yourself, turning your head before she can catch a glimpse.

it’s nice interacting with someone equally as sardonic in nature, even if she does piss you off most of the time.

“you definitely didn’t.”

this quiets her immediately. she just shoves her hands in her pockets, twigs snapping under your feet as you trudge through the overgrown grass.

a moment later you round the corner to the back wall and color begins to light up the decaying brick.

you’re running out of room at this point, so the most recent picture is pretty close to the end near you.

a meteor in its blaze of glory, hurtling down to nowhere.

you point it out, though ellie spotted it on her own easily. “this is the one i just finished. tried out some different colors.”

“wow.” she states simply, stopping so close beside you that her shoulder brushes yours.

your brows furrow as you watch her inspect it without further comment.

“wow what?” you pry, trying not to let the edge make its way into your voice.

she pauses briefly before looking over at you. “it’s just impressive. you’ve got an actual vision, i mean you’re…you’re really somethin’.”

its your turn to be silent; you’re trying to read her face, because it suddenly feels like you’re in unfamiliar territory. there’s not a hint of animosity lingering in the air.

instead, ellie is looking at you all starry-eyed, and you feel like you’re being pulled into a current you can’t escape.

“do you mean that?” your voice is faint, almost like you’ve been subdued.

the validation is making you feel fuzzy, especially since it’s coming from the one person you thought would never say it.

she nods, and this time she’s staring at your mouth rather obviously. “meant every word.”

it’s so quiet, only the sound of the birds chirping somewhere above you, and it feels like the oxygen has been sucked out of your lungs.

ellie begins to shift, to inch even closer to you, but then your phone rings and you both jump apart so comically that the trance is broken straight away.

“shit…” you mutter, fishing around in your bag momentarily before yanking it out.

the number makes your stomach bottom out, and every pleasant emotion you just experienced evaporates from your body.

nothing nice can last for long.

ellie clears her throat and you snap to life, muting the ringer because you can’t answer it in front of her.

“sorry, i—um, i have to go.”

you don’t even bother making up an excuse; you just bolt past her, high tailing it back to your car without another word. instinct has taken over, and your body is moving on its own.

she calls after you, but you can barely hear it over the ringing in your ears. only once you’ve successfully made it behind the wheel do you check to see if ellie followed along.

you deflate a little when you realize that she hasn’t, and that she won’t.

it’s been three days. three days and three sleepless nights since ellie saw you last.

she’s been up in her head ever since you ran away, chastising herself for listening to those provocative little voices and wondering what's occupying your own mind.

it’s shameful to admit, but after twenty four hours of silence, she had a compulsion to check in.

a brief stop at the bar let her know that you weren’t working, so she’d cruised through your neighborhood to find out if you were home.

the driveway was empty, and it remained that way when she visited the second time around.

the longer you’re gone, the more uneasy ellie becomes, and you’ve been plaguing her thoughts even more than usual.

had she misread your feelings? taken it too far?

she needs to see you, to talk. and you’re nowhere to be found.

the sound of the resin balls cracking against each other nearby snaps her back into the present. she sniffs, taking a sip of her whiskey.

it’s getting late, nearly midnight now, but ellie can’t bring herself to leave the bar. listening to the chatter of others is comforting.

and though the alcohol isn’t making you reappear, it at least gets her to loosen up a bit.

another swig. this’ll be her third glass of jameson, and that needs to be the limit for now. lord knows how she runs her fucking mouth with a buzz.

she glances around again, and her eyes skip over you thoughtlessly before she does a double take seconds later.

you’re perched in one of the corner seats toward the back of the bar, nursing a beer by yourself. you look exhausted, staring down at the shitty wood below you and picking at your thumbs.

ellie has never seen you here before, since she knows you prefer to get drinks straight from your coworkers.

this is the only other place in town though, usually frequented by the old farmers because they’re allowed to smoke and play pool at the same time.

and through the haze, there you are.

her stomach twists; she’s not sure if she’s angry or hurt, but it’s an awful feeling all the same.

she’s headed your way before she can even take another breath. you’re so out of it that you don’t notice until she’s actually sat down on the stool beside you.

“where the hell have you—” she cuts herself off when you turn to fully look at her, and the air feels like it's been knocked from her lungs.

a bruise paints your right cheek, though it’s clear you attempted to cover it. your eyes are watery and unfocused. she watches the recognition wash over you slowly, and you smile.

“oh, hello there.” you state simply.

her blood is already simmering, and her fingers ache to reach out and brush your face. she barely stops herself, choosing to run them through her hair instead.

“i…you okay, kid?”

her voice is hesitant, because even though she wants to cave someone’s head in, she’s much more worried about approaching you with care.

you laugh a little, a hiccup mixing itself in at the end. “fuckin’ hate when you call me that.”

your hand is unsteady as you take another long sip of beer, and she thanks her lucky stars that you’re almost done with it. that’ll make it easier to get you out of here.

“you’re right, m’sorry. hell, you’re sittin’ at the bar and i’m still using that dumb nickname.” she says, scratching her chin awkwardly.

“whatever. been dubbed worse.” you shrug and let your gaze fall back to your knuckles.

ellie clears her throat, nudging her boot against your foot. “how about i take ya home, huh?”

“i’m not that fucked up, and for all i know you could be just as drunk.” you immediately get smart with her, but even you hear the way your words slur just slightly in the wrong places.

she shakes her head but keeps her tone even. “i know my limit, and i don’t go past it. how did you get here?”

“i rode my bike. i’ll be fine, don’t even worry about me.”

but she is worried, and you can tell by the way she rests her arm on the back of your chair that she’s not leaving your side.

three minutes ago you could’ve sworn that all you wanted was to be alone, but it’s actually reassuring to run into her.

“it’s dark and completely unsafe. you’re comin’ with me in the truck, and that’s that.”

you roll your eyes, but you don’t put up much of a fight. you’re tired enough as it is, and your house is over two miles away.

plus ellie smells so delicious, leathery and woodsy even through the smoke, and suddenly you don’t mind letting her assist.

“fine. but i get to pick the music.” you bargain, taking the final swig of your bottle out of spite before standing up.

she chuckles lowly, stretching out as she waits for you to grab your bag. “radio doesn’t work, but i got some CDs you can choose from.”

“you’re the youngest old person i’ve ever met.”

“i can live with that.”

you follow her out of the bar, focusing on not tripping over your own feet while the breeze rifles through your hair.

ellie approaches the curb where your bike is perched and picks it up easily, carting it over to her old 93’ ford so she can lift it into the back.

you find yourself noticing the way her crewneck rides up to expose her stomach, plaid boxers peeking out from her baggy jeans. they sit low on her waist, low enough that you can see the shadow of her v line.

it makes your mouth dry, and dirty thoughts run through your mind without warning.

she comes around to the passenger side to swing the door open for you. you don’t interject when she goes a step further and helps hoist you up into the seat.

instead, you opt to enjoy her sturdy grip on your elbow.

the worn cloth interior is comforting, and even the car has taken on her scent at this point.

you’re already digging through the glove box by the time she’d made it around the hood and hopped up beside you.

“ellie’s magic mix?” you read off the title of one of the discs, and she can see the humorous glint in your eye.

“hey, be nice. it’s the first one i ever burned.” she explains.

you slide it into the player as she puts the car in reverse, and a few seconds later a brassy voice begins to hum through the speakers.

it’s familiar, which surprises you.

“charley pride?” you ask as ellie peels onto the road, and she looks over at you in wonder.

“and just how’d you know that?”

you shrug, grinning at her all loopy. “i like old records. the happiness of having you is one of my favorites.”

“well color me impressed.” she jokes.

a silence settles as you both listen contently, passing by the rolling hills that are shrouded in darkness. the car rumbles along against the uneven pavement, the only other noise aside from the song.

ellie shamelessly peers over as you stare out your window, chin resting against your arm while you contemplate something she can’t understand.

she doesn’t want to disturb, but she’s been waiting for a decent time to ask. it’ll never feel good, though, so she settles for right now.

“who gave you that shiner?”

you audibly suck in a breath, because you were dreading this inevitable conversation. “is it really important? i’m fine, and it won't happen again.”

“of course it’s important. someone hurt you, and i…i wasn’t there. but i can help, if you let me.” she’s practically begging you to trust her, and it’s obvious in her voice.

but you refuse. you fight against yourself yet again, like you’ve been conditioned into it.

“why would you have been there? i was at home. or my hometown, whatever. either way, it’s not your job to protect me.”

ellie’s eyebrows furrow in exasperation. “why d’you have to be so damn stubborn? can’t you just let someone care?”

“oh, and that someone is you? c’mon, don’t pretend like you suddenly give a fuck about me. you just want the thrill of acting like a savior.” you snap coldly.

the insult pierces through her like a shard of glass. her jaw ticks, fingers tightening against the steering wheel.

she can feel the angry truth welling in her throat. normally she’d choke it all back down, force herself to keep everything routine between the two of you.

but the flood gates are open, and you’ve pushed her beyond her limit this time.

“is that what you think? that i’ve never lost sleep over you, or gotten worked up over you? i was about to put out an APB when i realized you’d skipped town, and you’ve got the nerve to suggest that you don’t matter to me? i mean, fuck, all i can do when you’re not around is wonder where you are.”

this revelation makes you sit upright again, dumbfounded by the things coming out of her mouth.

so much is racing through your head at once, yet you remain eerily quiet. when ellie gains the confidence to glance over, she realizes you’re studying her face like you’re enraptured.

“stop lookin’ at me like and say something.” she grunts and turns her attention back to driving.

but a telling blush creeps up her neck, which you’re rarely lucky enough to see.

she doesn’t usually break a sweat like this, and you feel like you owe her the same candor in return.

even if it’s hard.

“that call that i got when we were together was from the hospital. it was my mom.”

you pause, taking a moment before throwing yourself forward. “so i visited, tried to get her on track again, but she didn’t want my help. she never has. and then things got heated. you can put the rest together.”

ellie can connect the dots, even though she hates what it leads her to.

you’ve always been self sufficient, but you also kept it a mystery as to why you’d moved or why you were all on your own in the first place.

she never pushed, mainly because you wouldn’t let her, but she can appreciate why you have the boundaries that you do.

instead of saying anything, she places a warm hand on your leg. not high enough on your thigh to be suggestive, but not low enough on your knee to be overtly friendly.

it’s not what you expected, but it’s what you were lacking all along; something to ground you, a reminder that she’s still beside you.

“i’m not going back again, y’know? seriously. i’ll be alright.” you reassure her solemnly, like it’s a pact now that you’re voicing it.

ellie nods, thumb brushing against your jeans naturally.

“i know you will. it’s who you are. but i’m sorry that you’ve been goin’ through this alone.”

her subtle movements send tingles of electricity through you, and your body is a little too excited by it.

“it’s mostly my choice anyways. i don’t let people get that far because i want to be alone. or, uh, i used to.” you fumble over it gracelessly.

you’ve never been very good at conveying your feelings when they’re positive, and with ellie it’s even weirder.

it’s easy to read between the lines, but she also wants you to say it. “and now you don’t?”

“no. not anymore.”

her cheeks grow even more red as she turns down your street, rocking slightly as you hit the numerous little potholes.

she slides her palm higher up your leg, whether it’s conscious or not. “interesting.”

your stomach flips in response, and when her eyes run over you again, they’re visibly darker than before.

there is something on your mind plays softly in the background, which is ironic because she’s overwhelming every single one of your senses. it’s been a while since you’ve felt like this, completely engulfed in another person.

maybe you had been mistaking passion for hatred this whole time.

a moment later you come to a screeching halt, and ellie moves her hand to throw the truck into park. it’s quiet; everyone’s lights are off, a sleepy fog crawling through the town.

“well, uh…” she attempts to start a sentence, a goodbye maybe, but there’s nothing coming to mind.

you’re so restless that your body decides to speak for the both of you; you unbuckle your seat belt, inching closer instead of heading for the door.

you grip her right shoulder gently, stabilizing yourself as you throw your leg across her lap to straddle her. a groan slips through her teeth when you readjust yourself on her hips.

you hold her neck, tracing her jawline slowly while she stares up at you.

“you sure you know what you’re doin?” ellie asks, restricting herself to grasping your thighs for now.

you nod, leaning in just enough to leave her aching for more. “i think i can handle it, sarge.”

the sweetness of your shampoo is intoxicating, and all it would take is a tiny move forward for her lips to close in on yours.

maybe it’s the longing on your face, or the way your hair is framing your cheeks, but the boundary of professionalism has completely blurred by now.

how can it be wrong when it feels this right?

so instead of arguing or being sarcastic, she closes the distance and kisses you. it’s soft, almost surprised at first. then she gets a taste of your minty chapstick and it’s hard not to devour you.

you pull her in even closer, tongues and teeth clashing together, and in the heat of the moment she barely notices you biting at her bottom lip.

it only electrifies her more when she does feel it, so much so that goosebumps crawl across her skin.

her palms travel to grope your tits needily and you let out a sigh that gets lost somewhere in the midst of your make out.

ellie had nearly snapped earlier seeing your cleavage on display in the little tank you had on under your jacket. she didn’t think she’d get to do anything about those indecent ideas, though.

“fuck, i’ve been waiting for this.” she breathes against your mouth, effectively working her way to your neck right after.

a moan finally escapes, a sound so goddamn divine she almost forgets how to function.

but she keeps peppering sloppy kisses down past your collarbone, determined to elicit that noise from you again.

“so you’ve always been hot for me, then?” you goad, though it’s hard to banter when you’re being so pleasantly distracted.

“i’d still call it a recent development.” ellie pauses to joke back.

but even after saying that, she’s dying to worship more of you, so she diverts her attention again to slip the straps of your top down.

her knuckles stroke your skin as she goes, and she’s got your bra unhooked in one suave maneuver.

you raise your eyebrows at her as she helps you out of it. “cute trick.”

she just smirks as she tosses the garment to the passenger side. you’re still decently concealed by the worn zip-up resting on your shoulders, but your cami is pulled down to your stomach to reveal your chest.

the sight of you alone makes ellie throb, pupils the size of saucers by now.

“i can do a lot more than that, sweetheart.” she promises, cupping your now exposed breasts so that she can drag the pads of her thumbs across your nipples.

you shiver at the sensation, pushing your torso into her harder without even realizing.

“show me, cowboy.” you whisper, and she can’t help but reclaim your lips before you even finish.

she continues grazing over your sensitive buds, which makes you whimper a little louder into her kiss.

it’s completely illogical to be doing this out in the open, but the homes are spaced out enough and her brain is too immersed in you to care about consequences.

you grind into her a little in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure building in your gut, though that’s not what you really want.

ellie knows it too, so she breaks away enough to speak. “something i can do for you?”

“just wondering what those fingers would feel like inside me.” you hum, and her hands drop to your waist without hesitation.

she wanted you to be in charge of how far this went, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want show you real pleasure.

and now she’s got the green light.

“filthy girl…can’t even make it into the house.”

there’s admiration in her tone as she frees the metal button to unzip your jeans, tugging them down your hips just enough to access you easier.

“it’s way more fun to live life on the edge.” you preach sarcastically, which she takes as more of a challenge than she should.

her hand dips into your pants and she skims across your clothed heat, enticingly slow to start.

your breath hitches in your throat and she feels your fist shift to grip her hair.

“then i sure hope you can be quiet for once.” ellie tests you right back, applying a bit more pressure as she traces the soft cotton.

you bite down on the inside of your cheek to try and hide your reaction, though every fiber of your body is ablaze.

it doesn’t help that she shifts down in the seat slightly, bringing herself more even with your breasts. she steadies your waist with her free hand as her mouth trails across the supple flesh, nipping at you every once in a while.

your panties are already damp, which rouses her so much that she decides not to boast. instead she pushes them to the side, letting her fingers run along your slick pussy.

the both of you groan, you into the open and her against your skin. she likes that you’re already clinging to her harder.

it makes her feel like you need her just as much.

ellie keeps the pace even but presses her tongue flat against your nipple, taking her time flicking back and forth. you squirm a bit, overwhelmed by the dual stimulation in the best way.

“a—aah…shit.” you whimper, rubbing yourself against her movements rhythmically.

she grins, lazily trailing her tongue across your skin, silently vowing that she won’t neglect an inch. “y’sound pretty when you’re not being a brat.”

“i’m not a—oh, holy fuck.”

without warning, ellie curls her middle finger and lets it slip inside of you, effectively cutting off your defense.

she slides it in and out a few times, giving you half a second to adjust before she adds another. you let out another lament, stunned even though it’s exactly what you want.

you clench around her and she swears under her breath. “so wet, so warm. you little minx.”

the praises go straight to your head, and you’re thirsting for her at this point.

she’s taking it slow, licking and sucking at your chest and neck while you move with the stroke of her arm. heat is building in your stomach, and you’re aching to spur the fire.

“faster ellie, please.” you beg, too far gone to worry about trivial things like dignity.

hearing you say her name while you plead is exhilarating, and all she wants to do is gratify your desires.

so she does just that, speeding up her fingers but ensuring that she buries them fully each time to hit all the right spots. and boy does she.

you tilt your head back slightly, giving her a better angle as you moan a little louder. it’s a sight to behold; your eyes screwed shut, tits bouncing in her face while she goes to work.

“please? didn’t realize i could’a just fucked some manners into you all this time.” ellie teases against your skin, and you give her a faint tug at her roots.

“shut up, i’m totally polite.” you bite back.

the way you’re sinking your hips down to fill yourself with her says otherwise, but it’s also ridiculously hot, so she doesn’t argue.

instead, she hums in agreement. “mhmm, such a lady, takin’ it so well.”

her compliments are leaving you absolutely spellbound, as much as you hate to admit it.

they’re dirty, and yet they sound so heavenly when she says them regardless.

your muscles are beginning to tighten from the pleasure, and ellie can feel it. but she knows she can get you there faster, make it even more intense.

so she continues pounding into you relentlessly, adding her thumb to the mix so that it brushes your clit.

your thighs twitch around her, and an involuntary cry leaves your throat.

“fuck, jesus christ!”

she smiles, completely ignoring the way her boxers are rumpled and sticky at this point. she’s not worried about herself; all she wants is for you to keep making those sweet little noises.

“feels good, huh, angel?” she asks, curving her fingers perfectly inside your cunt.

you nod, muttering something that’s not even coherent. your whole body is ablaze now; no part of your skin feels untouched by her goddamn magic.

ellie can’t believe she’s got you melting in her arms, exposed for anyone to walk up and see, but she loves it.

“right…there.” you gasp, clutching her hair and shoulder for dear life at this point.

she circles your swollen bundle of nerves harder while continuing to hit that sweet spot, and your legs feel like jelly.

you’re tensing around her hand with every stroke, all while she draws your skin between her teeth to leave hickies across the swell of your breasts.

huffs and groans fill the air, and it’s hard to tell where you begin and she ends. ellie doesn’t think she’s ever been this entranced by anyone, at least not in a very long time.

you’re goddamn beautiful, completely wild in this moment, and she adores it.

“i’m—mmm, gonna cum.” you whine, trying and failing to keep the desperate from your tone.

she doesn’t want it to end, but she hangs on to the hope that this is just the beginning and puts the rest of her energy into your satisfaction.

“give me everythin’, baby. let the whole fuckin town hear how dirty we are.”

she’s adjusts her grip to help rock you into her fingers, somehow filling you even more perfectly in the process.

your toes curl in your shoes right before your high crashes around you, mouth agape as you chant her name. your eyes squeeze shut while you finish, shaking lightly from the sheer force of it.

ellie keeps you steady while she gradually slows her tempo, simultaneously shimmying back up in the seat a bit so that she can watch you ride it out until the end.

the feeling of you cumming around her is something she’s not sure she’ll ever be able to forget, and the expression on your face is a close second.

finally, she stills completely, waiting until you’re able to look at her before she retracts her fingers.

they glisten in the nearby streetlights, slick from your orgasm, and your gaze glitters back as you watch her take them into her mouth.

you can see her tongue working, and she groans when she pulls them out fully clean a beat later, chest still heaving from all the activity.

“god, y’taste like heaven too.”

you cover your face with your hands in embarrassment, peeking through them as you shake your head slightly. “stop saying shit like that.”

ellie chuckles and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear for you. “why, cuz it turns you on?”

“no, because you sound like a dork.” you lie, though the mess in your pants says otherwise.

ellie smacks your ass lightly in response. your arms fly down to wrap around her neck again as you let out a squeak of surprise.

“always gotta be a rebel, don’t ya?” she says, smoothing her palm over the place where it had previously landed.

there’s a smile plastered across her face though, probably similar to the fucked out one you’re wearing yourself.

you tangle your fingers in her hair, forcing her attention back to you. “well, someone has to make you do your job.”

“please, i know you’re soft for me under all that armor.”

you narrow your eyes playfully before pressing your forehead against hers. “i’ll deny it in public.”

ellie chuckles, and you feel her breath fan across your face. “we can work on that. how ‘bout we go inside and getcha cleaned up for now?”

“is this an excuse to see me fully naked?” you question as she slips the straps of your tank back over your shoulders gently.

“oh, are we still pretending that you don’t want me just as much?”

you place a chaste kiss to her lips. “yeah, yeah. touché.”

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie tlou smut #ellie willams x reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams smut #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #ellie williams x female reader #Spotify #ellie williams fic

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andvys · 10 months ago

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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter twenty one ⭐︎ Please, I've been on my knees, change the prophecy

Warnings: fluff in the beginning, alcohol consumption, mentions of weed, angst, mentions of unrequited love, kind of a sexist comment directed at blondie

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You never held much hope in your heart but for only this once... you did and it got crushed just like everything else was in your life and now you will probably never execute your plan and everything will slip right through your fingers just like you always feared it would.

Word count: 8.8k

Author's note: @hellfire--cult shoutout to roe, who always helps me with this story, ideas, dialogues etc. ily

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Waking up to the phone ringing at full blast was not the best start for the morning. Steve’s gruff voice centers you as your head rises slowly from his chest, looking at him reaching for his phone on the bedside table and picking it up with a grunt.

“Hello?”

You can faintly hear Robin on the other side, not really hearing what she is saying, you are still so sleepy. You lay your head down on his chest again, closing your eyes as a soft yawn falls from your lips.

Steve wraps his arm around you again, rubbing your side as he grumbles into the phone.

“You– ugh… I thought you didn’t have to work today?-- Can’t you simply use your bike, the weather is nice,” his voice died down a little when he looked out his window, at the gray sky and the rustling trees, no sign of the heat and the sun from yesterday. He sighs and closes his eyes again, “fine, okay… fine.” He mumbles a goodbye before he hangs up the phone, putting the receiver back into place, he rubs his face and tightens his hold on you.

You open your eyes again and prop your chin up on his chest, blinking at the beautiful man before you.

Steve squints one eye open, a smile spreading on his lips when he looks at you, his hand falls to the back of your head, his fingers now running through your messy hair.

“Morning, honey,” he whispers, already making you feel butterflies this morning.

“Good morning, Stevie,” you whisper, giving him a sweet smile.

“I wish it was a good one,” he grumbles and breaks eye contact for a moment so he can look at the clock on his nightstand. It’s only eight in the morning. “I’m tired and I gotta pick Robin up in an hour,” he murmurs words that leave you disappointed.

You wanted more time with him before his shift…

Steve squeezes your waist and pulls you up a little, attempting to pull you closer and you welcome it. You bring your hand up towards his face, brushing back the hair that hangs in front of his eyes, you move closer to him, no longer fighting the urge to kiss him first thing in the morning.

You don’t know how his heart skips a beat and how the fire sparks within him when you press your lips against his, greeting him more properly with a soft kiss. If you knew, you would simply throw those three words out, right this second, you wouldn’t wait for a perfect moment, you wouldn’t wait for later.

Steve hums against your lips and presses his mouth stronger against yours, getting lost in this sweet morning kiss.

You smile against him and cup his cheek, nuzzling your nose against his.

You can still feel the previous night with him, his hands on your skin, his lips on yours, his words, his actions, your plan for today, which unfortunately got postponed already. You have no doubts, not a single one. You were thinking about it the whole time before you fell asleep, last night, you thought about how you’d do it, what you would say to him, what words would be right to use. You wanted to do it in the morning, you wanted to take care of him, make him coffee and breakfast, the way he always does for you and then afterwards, you would do it, you would tell him, you would get the words off your chest that you never thought would see the light in this life.

But something, someone already got in the way.

When you pull away from one another, you don’t shy away from giving him another sweet smile, a deep look into his eyes, another peck to his lips. You catch him by surprise and you don’t even know it – how his heart is racing, how his mind crosses out all the anxious thoughts that spread inside of him last night after this sweet kiss.

Steve’s hand is wrapped around your upper arm, his lips are tingling, his skin feels hot already, his eyes gaze into yours and he sees something that wasn’t there before or so he thinks. You look at him with a kind of softness that he feels a stranger to, you smile at him in a way you only did when you were drunk and clingy with him, you look at his lips as though you never want to stop kissing him.

You fill him with hope again, the hope that began to dwindle the night before.

“I’m gonna make you some coffee,” you whisper against his lips, squeezing his arm and blessing him with another smile before you pull away from him, leaving his side to his dismay. You push the covers off your body and place your feet on the ground.

Steve places his arm behind his head, admiring the way your hair falls down your bare back, the way your naked body looks so heavenly. His cock stirs underneath the covers when you bend down to pick up your panties, exposing yourself to him, causing his hunger to grow in him. He would rather stay in bed with you, kiss every inch of your skin and worship you in every way possible, make you moan his name, make you see stars, make you cling to him because he is the only one you need.

Clad in your underwear, you walk over to his dresser and pick out one of his shirts, completely ignoring your dress that hangs over his desk chair. You put on one of his only band tees that he owns, The Cure. He smiles, adoring the way his shirt looks on you. You pick out a pair of your shorts and put them on, tying the string at the front, you look over your shoulder and eye him up and down in a way that leaves him blushing.

Steve’s mornings with you are always his favorites but something about today feels… different. Something about the way you look at him makes him feel happy, happier.

He gets out of bed begrudgingly, he follows you into the bathroom after putting his boxers on, he brushes his teeth beside you and watches you through the mirror, sharing glances and smiles with you, he watches the way you brush your hair and the way you apply moisturizer to your skin and it hits him like it never did before, this moment is so intimate, just as intimate as any other moment you have shared lately. Every kiss, every touch, every glance, everything has changed, not just for him but also for you, despite his doubtful thoughts, he has to admit that it’s there, a change.

You wouldn’t do this with just anyone, right?

You wouldn’t make coffee, let alone cook breakfast for just someone.

You wouldn’t joke around and steal kisses from him if there wasn’t something.

And you certainly wouldn’t play with his hand, entwine your fingers with his on the way back to your house if he was just casual to you.

And when Steve parks his car in your driveway and you turn to face him with a smile on your face, something else sparks in your eyes… nervousness, hope, giddiness, excitement. You hide your face behind your hair after a moment of silence and he sees the way you take a few deep breaths before you look into his eyes again.

“Do you want to spend the night with me… after the party?” You ask with a sudden shakiness that catches him off guard a little.

“Of course,” he nods, furrowing his brows.

This shouldn’t even be a question anymore.

“Okay, good,” you nod, whispering. “Are you coming with Robin?”

“Yeah, do you want me to pick you up too?” He asks, smiling.

You shake your head, “no, it’s fine. I’m probably gonna go earlier and help Eddie with the snacks and everything.”

Steve nods, “alright then, guess I’ll see you there?”

“Yeah,” you whisper and look into his hazel eyes as you begin to move closer, “I’ll see you there, Stevie.”

You kiss his lips, making his smile even bigger.

You pull away and gaze into his eyes for a moment, your smile matching his own.

Steve feels a longing in his chest, a deep emotion that he can’t decipher yet as he looks into your eyes but something that he knows is that he doesn’t want to let you go in this moment, that he wants to kiss, kiss, kiss you until all his doubt is gone again, until he knows what you feel, until he knows that this is real.

He watches you with a smile that never falls, not even when you walk away from him, not even when he can no longer see you after you step into your home and shut the door.

His smile lingers, the way it always does because of you.

It lingers on the whole drive over to Robin’s, the tingling sensation on his lips and in his stomach stays, the fluttering and the beat of his heart never lessens, hope seeps back in, taking over once again after this morning with you.

And it all stays.

It stays.

The clouds grow bigger and darker, looming over Hawkins like a dark veil, the wind howls through the trees, the leaves ripping off the branches and falling onto the pavement, the curtains in your room move strongly.

You clutch your towel to your chest, not caring about the water that drips from your hair and onto your carpet, you quickly make your way over to the window that you forgot to close before your bath. You look out and up into the sky, feeling the anxiousness in you already seeping in.

The storm isn’t any close yet but it’s brewing, the clouds get darker and they move faster as the wind seems to get stronger and stronger. Something is coming and you hope that you won’t be here, alone in this house anymore once it takes over fully, so you decide to get ready sooner than you wanted to.

You turn on some music to drown out the noises from the howling wind. You sit down in front of your vanity and take a look at yourself in the mirror. The marks on your neck are clear, the happiness in your eyes even evident to yourself, the circles that always glow like shadows underneath them are no longer there, your lips curl into a smile as you touch the side of your neck where he kissed you, just the thought, the memory of it makes your heart and stomach flutter.

You take a deep breath and begin getting ready, applying make-up to your face, using only his favorite colors as you put on eyeshadow and lipstick, words mingle together in your mind as you form sentences and prepare yourself for something that you never thought you would do. You rehearse it all in your head, growing more and more nervous as you do so.

You don’t know how things will go, how they will end but one thing is for certain, tonight everything will change, no matter his reaction, things won’t be the same after this.

You feel scared and anxious, you know that you could lose him tonight, you know that he could slip right through your fingers, you know that he could break your heart and crash it into a million pieces but even that thought isn’t enough to stop you from going after what you always wanted.

Nothing can stop you, not yourself, not anyone else, not the storm building up behind you.

You feel a giddiness, an excitement you haven’t felt in a while, you’re not sure if you ever felt it.

You put on a pair of Levi’s and a white shirt, using the opportunity of the cool weather to wear your leather jacket today, you pick out your favorite jewelry and spritz his favorite perfume on your skin. You run your fingers through your styled hair and take another look at yourself in the mirror, glancing at your bed behind you and hope that tears won’t be shed into your pillow tonight.

Despite the fears that linger, despite the storm moving closer and closer, your excitement runs deepest in your bones.

You wonder what Eddie will say, think about your decision.

You know what Billy would think, what he would say, how he would look at you.

You know that he’d be proud of you for going after what you want, he always waited for this moment.

You remember the look on his face when you lied to him about what happened at Scoops Ahoy, you remember how he sighed and how he smiled sadly when you told him that you were too afraid to ask him out and never ended up going inside – you lied to him to protect Steve, you knew what he would do if you told him the truth about what really happened, you knew that Steve would lose another fight.

It only feels right to take his car today, you rarely do it, you rarely take the Camaro out for rides but for the sake of keeping the battery alive, you take it out for late night drives or for short trips to the store whenever you get a sudden craving for something.

It’s funny, maybe even eerie that the car still smells like him. It’s been over a year since he has been gone but his cologne still lingers. You don’t know whether that is the reason for the calming feeling in you whenever you’re inside of the Camaro or if it might be his ghostly presence.

But whatever it is, it grounds you, it makes you feel warm and safe, even in the storm and even through your racing thoughts.

When you arrive at Eddie’s and Wayne’s house, you park the car in their driveway, behind Eddie’s Impala. You sit there for a moment, not getting out of the car just yet, you take a few deep breaths and take another look at yourself in the mirror.

You’re pretty sure that no one is here yet, you got here early, two hours earlier than you should be. Eddie won’t mind, he had been asking to hang out with you alone for a while now and as you look at his house, you’re hit with a sudden guilt, you have neglected him a little once you and Steve started spending more time with each other.

When the rain starts pouring, you jump out of the car and quickly make your way over to his house, running up the porch steps and finding shelter beneath the roof, before you can even knock on the door or ring the bell, the door opens and a smiling Eddie greets you, his curly hair messy and wild, his eyes sparkling and pearly whites showing as his smile turns into a grin. He steps aside and lifts his arm, bowing playfully.

“Welcome to the castle, milady.”

A laugh falls from your lips, you shake your head at him as you walk inside.

“Hi Eddie,” you snort.

He chuckles at your eye roll, closing the door once you’re inside, he takes you in, the smile on your face, the sparkle in your eyes, the happiness and the excitement etched into your features. He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Hey,” he smiles and squints his eyes at you, “how are you, sweets?”

You take your jacket off and glance at your best friend, at his squinted eyes, at the curious look on his face.

“Peachy.”

Eddie nearly laughs, thinking you’re joking by using that word, you said it too enthusiastically, too happily, too excitedly. The smile on your face matches the tone in your voice though and there is something about you that looks different today, he doesn’t know what it is but there is something. Your hair is styled the way it always is but it's shining beneath the dim lights in the hallway, your skin is glowing, you just look happy.

“You look pretty.”

You furrow your brows but smile even brighter.

“Thank you, Eds.”

Your best friend steps towards you, he wraps his arm around you and starts leading you to his kitchen.

“What’s up with the uh,” he pauses, pointing his finger at your face, “smiley face, you seem so happy today, did something happen or are you just that happy to see me?” He asks, chuckling.

You roll your eyes at him and shake your head. The giggle that slips from your lips and echoes through his hallway makes him clutch his chest dramatically.

“So, you’re not happy to see me?” He asks with a bewildered look on his face, “ouch.”

You slap his arm playfully and push away from him when you both step inside the large kitchen, “dork. Of course I’m happy to see you.”

Two paper bags filled with snacks and drinks are on the kitchen counter, nothing taken out of them yet, you instantly get to work, taking out the bags of chips and different kinds of candy he got for game night, movie night or whatever else this party’s theme will be.

“I’m glad you’re here early,” Eddie says as he makes his way over to his fridge.

“Why? So you got someone to fill the snack bowls?”

He looks at you over his shoulder, sending you a glare, “do you think I see you as my maid or something?”

“Yeah.”

He shrugs at you and turns back again, “don’t see you wearing a maid costume.”

You snort at him, “that would look ridiculous.”

“I’m sure Harrington wouldn’t mind seeing you in one,” he cackles.

Blood rushes to your cheeks and you have to hide your flustered face even though you know that he isn’t looking at you now.

You know how protective Eddie feels over you, how he never approved of the situation you had gotten yourself into with Steve, how he wanted to protect you from the possible heartbreak that might be leading up to but despite his negative feelings about all of this, he had been calm in the past few weeks, less negative, less cold with Steve.

Will he encourage you when you tell him what you want to do?

Or will he think that you’re making a mistake?

You watch as he takes out two beers from his fridge, placing them on the kitchen counter, for a moment he looks around for the bottle opener with a frown on his face before he decides to use his lighter instead, popping the caps with ease. He slides one of the bottles over the marble counter, putting it in front of you, he raises his eyebrows at you as his eyes flicker back and forth between the beer and you.

With a chuckle, you push away the snacks and grab the beer, “party hasn’t started yet.”

“Party,” he snorts and brings his bottle up, clinking it against yours, “party is gonna be at Hopper’s wedding, I’m gonna get shitfaced with you.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you mumble and take a sip of your beer.

“Why? Are you scared you’re gonna get all cute and clingy with Harrington again?” He laughs, giving you a smug smile, reminding you of the fourth of july.

You roll your eyes at him but you can’t hide the smile on your face, the smile that turns into a lovesick one as you think about last night.

Eddie drinks his beer and watches you, the way your smile doesn’t fall, the way your eyes are basically hearts, the way you seem so giddy over something as you shift from one foot to the other.

Had someone told him that he would get to see you like this a few months back, he probably would’ve laughed, he would’ve had more trouble believing that than what Dustin told him about the upside down when he was dragged into it.

You always had a stone cold face, your smile only ever appeared when you said something snarky, you rarely showed feelings and you only ever rolled your eyes at anything someone other than Max or Lucas said, it took you time to get used to the others, to warm up to them, it was a surprise that you warmed up to him so quickly but maybe it was because you had some things in common, though while you built a defensive mechanism around you by being cold and even mean at times, Eddie used humor and indifference.

Now you are standing here in front of him, a person so different from the one he befriended back in March.

You are happy, you are glowing.

Eddie is just about to ask, his curiosity is killing him and he can’t wait no more to find out what’s gotten you so excited.

“I’m gonna tell him.”

He knows what you mean, he knows right away.

“I-I don’t want to do this anymore, it’s just not enough. And I know what you’re gonna say but… I just want to do it, Eddie. We went to the city last night and we… we held hands and we kissed in the middle of the street and we talked for hours! He even started kissing me goodbye and I just… my feelings are getting stronger and I don’t even know how that’s even possible but I just… I feel like I’m going to explode if I don’t tell him the truth and I know,” you pause to take a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment before you look back up at him again, “I know how this can end, I know that he could reject me, break my heart and push me away but I need to try, Eddie. I want to try.”

Eddie’s eyes soften, his shoulders slump as a sad smile crosses his face.

The truth is, he is happy, proud of you for going after what you want but he is also scared, scared that this happiness that has just started showing will be taken away again when the man in question will shatter your heart to pieces.

Despite Steve’s obvious affection towards you, he still struggles to see through him, to read him, to find out what he is feeling for you. And what he had been told by a certain someone, doesn’t help his doubt. Yet he can’t deny what he sees in Steve’s eyes. He can’t deny the possibility that he feels the same for you so who is he to intervene? To stop you from going after who your heart desires the most?

You stare at your best friend, waiting for a reaction from him, his face is unreadable, his eyes distant but then he makes a move, he places his bottle on the counter and he walks towards you, surprising you by pulling you into his arms, he hugs you tightly and squeezes your arms.

A confused smile spreads on your face but you don’t deny him, you wrap your arms around his middle.

Eddie had always been affectionate, always stole hugs from you and a few others he considered close friends but usually it happened when he was hyper, drunk or high.

“I’m proud of you, sweets,” he mumbles and takes a deep breath before he continues, “I’ll be there to cheer you on… with pom poms.”

“Please don’t,” you giggle and pull back when he places his hands on your shoulders, his brown eyes are filled with kindness, his smile warm.

“Jokes aside, Harrington’s a really lucky guy, you know? You’re a catch, sweetheart and I’m not just saying that because I’m your best friend, you’re really fucking amazing and cool, he’d be really dumb and blind not to want you as his girl,” he grins, lifting his hand to tap your nose, “you’re a cutie.”

You swat his hand away with a snort, “cutie…”

“What, it’s true!” He laughs, his eyes glinting with amusement, he tilts his head to the side and his laughter dies down after a moment, a serious expression takes over instead and he squeezes your shoulder again, “but hey, no matter what happens, I’ll be there for you, okay?”

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod, trying to smile but failing to do so when your emotions spread inside of you like a fire, you don’t know what’s gotten over you, maybe it’s the kind eyes of your best friend or the caring tone in his voice, the brotherly love he feels for you, the protectiveness that reminds you of one you had gotten before.

You appreciate him so dearly.

“Thank you, Eddie,” you whisper.

He smiles at you and gives you a nod.

“When are you gonna do it?”

“Tonight, after the party.”

He nods again, “alright, you gotta tell me how it went.”

“I will,” you smile and look into your best friend’s eyes, taking a deep breath, you realize just how nervous you are when you exhale shakily.

Eddie wants to take your nervousness, he wants to rid you of your anxiety and your fear of rejection, he wants to tell you that it’ll be okay, that things will work out, he wants to protect you but he can’t, and he won’t lie to your face when he is uncertain about it all, so all he can offer is comfort.

And for you, it’s more than enough.

“Now come on, let’s fill these snack bowls and order some pizza,” he grins and pats your shoulder before he steps away from you again.

“Yeah,” you smile, tilting your head down, you look at your hand, at the missing hair tie around your wrist, the one that found home somewhere else.

You don’t got a single clue to where this night will take you, not a gut feeling, nothing but as the time drags closer to the evening, your chest begins to fill with a kind of anxiety that makes you feel on edge, the one that prompts you to open a second bottle of beer when you finish your first, it doesn’t get you drunk, not even tipsy but it makes you feel a little calmer.

And once everyone starts piling in slowly, you start relaxing a little more, especially when Nancy arrives and she instantly pulls you away from the others to talk about wedding preparations, about the color of her nails and the shoes she hasn’t settled on yet, about how excited Joyce was when she went cake tasting with her, Will and El.

“Have you settled on a hairstyle yet?” Nancy asks you and takes a sip of the drink Jonathan made her.

She noticed the way you kept looking over her shoulder while she was talking, the way your eyes kept moving back to the front door like you were waiting for someone.

Everyone is already here, well, everyone except for Robin and Steve.

You shake your head, “no, I’ll probably keep it open, I don’t know yet.”

“You should add a pink bow to your hair! It would match your heels!”

You smile at her enthusiasm, at the smile on her face, at the kindness in her eyes. She has been such a good friend to you but sometimes it feels weird to get along with her, given her history with Steve. You wonder how she will react if the truth ever makes it to the light.

“You think?”

She nods her head causing her curls to bounce just the way Eddie’s always do.

“I might do that then,” you smile at her.

“I can’t believe the wedding is in a few days already,” she says as her face grows a little serious, “and that I’ll be leaving for college soon…” Her voice falls a little quieter, her blue eyes search for her boyfriend who is standing on the other side of the room, checking out the vinyls on Eddie’s shelf. A look of sadness and longing crosses her soft features, her lips curling into a sullen smile.

They are going to different colleges, their ways parting once again… for a while. You can see the sadness in them both, the looks they share as they spend their last days together. You have no doubt that they will make it, that they will push through this time of separation. Nancy and Jonathan are so deeply bonded, you can’t imagine one without the other permanently.

“I’m gonna miss our shopping trips,” Nancy mumbles, directing her sad gaze at you now. “You should come visit me in Boston sometime! Before Christmas! You could fly in and we could go Christmas shopping together and enjoy a couple days there before we go back to Hawkins together!”

You laugh at her lightened up eyes, at the happy grin on her face.

It feels weird to think that far ahead when it’s something you never really do anymore, you rarely even think about the next week, let alone a holiday that is still so far away, a holiday that usually only saddens you and reminds you of what you had lost.

“I’d love that,” you nod, smiling.

Somehow her blue eyes lighten up even more and it makes you feel warm inside, you’re not the girl people ever tried to befriend and you never blamed them, you weren’t exactly open to making friends but for some reason the girl in front of you chose you and you don’t even know why.

The doorbell rings at an unexpected moment, when you’re lost in your thoughts and unprepared to see him. You straighten your back and look over Nancy’s shoulder when Eddie rushes through the hallway to open the front door.

You miss the look on Nancy’s face as she keeps her eyes on you, the curiosity flickering in her eyes, the knowing.

You lick your lips and blink, heart already lurching to your throat when you hear Robin’s voice and wait for him to follow her inside but the door closes a little too soon for your liking and the lack of his voice and his presence makes you frown.

Robin walks in by herself, Vickie isn’t by her side and neither is the one you have been waiting for. Her a little wet from the rain, a not so happy look deep in her features.

Your eyebrows furrow and you can already feel the disappointment, the confusion settling inside of you so deeply that it makes you uncomfortable.

Where is he?

“Hey guys,” Robin smiles as she steps into the living room, waving at the teens who are in a hushed conversation that none of you seem to be allowed to hear.

You notice the way her smile doesn’t match the look in her eyes or the rough tone in her voice. She doesn’t look at you but that doesn’t surprise you, not anymore.

“Where’s Steve?” Dustin asks, beating you to the question that has been repeating itself in your head.

Robin hesitates, she shifts from one foot to the other, twisting the rings on her fingers as her eyes meet yours briefly.

“He’s not feeling well, he stayed home… he… has a migraine.”

If there is one thing that you learned about Robin, it’s that she is either a fantastic liar or the most terrible one and right now, she is a terrible one.

“Wait what?” Eddie mumbles from behind her, giving her the same look that you have given her, “he was fine earlier when I called him.”

You don’t know what to feel at this very moment but worry is the biggest emotion of all. You would drop everything now to go and take care of him.

“Well, he isn’t anymore, migraines come out of nowhere, he said he wants to be alone,” she grumbles and gives you a pointed look before she turns on her heel and leaves the living room to go into the kitchen.

Jonathan and Nancy pay no mind to her little attitude, no one really is, except for you and your best friend. Eddie shoots you a concerned glance, furrowing his brows at you in question but you are just as lost as him.

He watches how your expression falls, how your shoulders slump and your lips curl downwards. He sighs, wondering if Robin is telling the truth or if there is something else. He can’t stand to see the disappointment in your eyes when there was nothing but excitement and happiness just minutes ago.

You excuse yourself to Nancy, not even noticing the look in her eyes as they follow you until you’re no longer in her sight.

This moment reminds you of your first night with Steve, the same excitement that lingered in you then, the same one that was crashed when Robin arrived without him and told you that he went out with Heidi was crushed yet again, only this time, you know that he isn’t out on a date, he isn’t seeing someone else, he wouldn’t do that, not even if there are no feelings in him for you. Something else is going on, that deep unsettling feeling that takes home in you is proof of that.

This isn’t like him, even if he did feel sick, even if he did have a migraine, he would’ve called you, he would’ve told you that he can’t stay with you tonight.

You walk through the darkened hallway, not even flinching when lightning strikes outside, too absorbed in your anxious thoughts. You make your way into the kitchen where Robin is opening her beer, she rolls her eyes when she sees you and it really shouldn’t affect you this much anymore, she always has an attitude when it comes to you, it seems.

“Hey,” you mumble, still trying to be friendly towards Steve’s best friend.

“Hi,” she murmurs, grumpily.

You don’t walk into the room any further, wanting distance between yourself and her.

“What’s really going on?” You ask, not bothering to try and have small talk with someone who can’t stand your guts.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she shrugs with a stoic look on her face.

No matter how many times she had given you the cold shoulder before, it still surprises you sometimes to see her act so indifferent towards you. The girl who stuttered every time she tried to talk to you when you had just joined the group, the girl that always made you laugh and threw funny comments at you turned into this but she is only like that with you, no one else.

“Yeah, you do,” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest, “I know you don’t like me, I don’t know what I did to you but–”

Her scoff cuts you off, she looks up at the ceiling and mumbles some words that you can’t understand and it only angers you even more.

“Just tell me what happened, I was with him this morning and he was fine, he wanted to come here, he wanted to spend the night with me.” You are already pleading, showing emotions to a girl you probably shouldn't but you are desperate to know, to find out why he isn’t here.

She shakes her head at you and laughs, “I’m sure you’ll be fine without him, Blondie. You can always find another guy, it’s not like you had trouble finding some before,” she throws harsh words and a look of judgment your way, not giving you a chance to reply to her rude comment before she brushes past you and makes her way back to the group.

Your stare is blank as you keep your eyes on the ground, not knowing what to feel, what to think, what emotions are swirling inside of you right now because suddenly there are too many of them.

You found out how rude she can be with the comments and remarks she throws at you sometimes but she never judged you for your past, you never thought that she would do that.

How could you ever want someone else?

You never did before, not even when you were sure that he hated you, not even then did you want someone else.

He is the only one for you, he will always be the only one.

You glance at the telephone and you don’t think twice before you head towards it, basically ripping the receiver from its place, you quickly dial his number and press your back against the wall, waiting for the call to go through, waiting for him to pick up.

Your feelings tell you that you won’t get any answers, not like this, not right now.

It rings and it rings but nothing and that only makes you feel worse.

Steve always picks up the phone, no matter what, no matter who might be calling, no matter what time it is, no matter if he is sleeping or not, he always picks up the phone, always. So this is only another sign for you, a sign that something isn’t right.

“Hey.”

You flinch, not at the thunder that just struck, but at Eddie’s voice, his eyes are filled with pity as they flicker back and forth between the receiver in your hand and your face.

“Maybe he’s sleeping, he always does when he has migraines,” Eddie shrugs.

You know he is trying to make you feel better, to take your anxiety and your anxious thoughts away from you but nothing, absolutely nothing will do but you don’t want to ruin his mood or anyone else’s so you put the receiver back and you go over to the fridge, reaching for a soda instead of a beer this time.

You don’t want to be here, not anymore, you want to be with him, you want to check on him, see if he’s okay but the gnawing feeling in your chest makes you stay.

The storm that rages outside taking over your mind as well as the questions in your mind grow louder and louder.

“Come on,” you mumble without looking back, not baring to see the pity in his eyes any longer.

Your best friend follows you without a word, making his way back into the living room with you.

You smile at Max and sit down beside her, trying to distract yourself by talking to the girl but it’s not that easy, not when worry continues to rise in you, not even when Eddie sits down on the other side of you and tries to talk to you about anything but him.

For the following hour, you feel restless. Scratch that, restless is an understatement, you are panicking. Eddie tries to comfort you, tries to take your mind off things by playing a drinking game with everyone else, laughing when El tries out beer for the first time, and sends the can flying without touching it in disgust. Not even that could take your mind away from the boy that occupies every second of your life now… and there’s a person in this party that knows exactly what is going on and is acting as if she doesn’t, drinking her fifth margarita of the night and smiling, talking with Jonathan.

You reach a tipping point.

“Fuck this shit, Eddie.”

You slam your drink on the table, marching towards Robin and Jonathan while Eddie scrambles desperately behind you, trying to stop you. He had never seen you like this before. You are so determined, pushing through it all, just for the sake of knowing about Steve’s whereabouts. But he too is intrigued. He knows Robin knows something… but his chest compresses when he remembers the night before, hoping that it didn't have anything to do with what was happening right this second.

He doesn’t want to be the cause of your pain. He hopes he isn’t.

You stop in front of Robin with a frown on your face, not even apologizing for interrupting her conversation with Jonathan, for stopping her mid-sentence.

“I need to talk to you.”

Jonathan looks up at you, a little surprised at the seriousness on your face and your sharp voice. He looks over your shoulder, glancing at Eddie who shakes his head at him, he only raises his eyebrows in response, he turns away and sips on his drink, walking towards Nancy.

Robin clenches her jaw, she meets your eyes and stares at you for a moment, glaring back at you.

You stand your ground, not looking away, not moving, not asking but demanding for her to follow you when you tilt your head in the direction of the kitchen before you walk off.

Eddie looks around, relieved to see everyone busy with the monopoly game that Dustin brought.

Robin gets up with a grunt, slamming her drink on the table just the way you did, she shoots a glare at Eddie before she turns around and walks after you with Eddie hot on her heels.

You’re standing there with your arms crossed, your heart pounding in your chest and your anxiety burning by now.

Robin mimics you when she walks in, crossing her arms over her chest as well, she looks you up and down before she shrugs at you.

Eddie, who is already looking between the two of you nervously, closes the door, not wanting the others to hear but hoping that an argument won’t break out between you both.

“What do you want?” Robin grumbles at you, her words slurring.

You can’t lie and say that her glares, her dislike towards you, doesn’t sting a little but this isn’t the main focus now.

“Where is Steve?”

“I already told you–”

“I don’t fucking believe you, Robin!” You snap at the girl, throwing your arms up, “you’ve been lying to me from the moment you stepped into this house! I know he isn’t feeling sick, I know he doesn’t have a migraine, he would’ve told me! I saw him this morning, he wanted to come so don’t stay here and lie to my face! Tell me where he is and why he’s not picking up his damn phone!”

Already breathing heavily after your little outburst, you stare at her in desperation, wanting, needing answers.

Her gaze never changes though, it doesn’t soften, it’s still filled with dislike, and her lips curl downwards.

“He doesn’t want to see you anymore,” she shrugs, throwing those words out as though they mean nothing.

You would have believed her, if you weren’t so determined, if you weren’t so set on everything, you would have believed her. This would have worked on you months back but not now, not anymore, not after last night, not after this morning, and even if he did want that, he wouldn’t leave you in the dark like this.

Eddie furrows his brows, looking at Robin who is so obviously lying yet again.

“I don’t believe you, Robin.” You shake your head at her, stepping towards her. “I don’t believe you for a second.”

She blinks, eyes darting back and forth between you and your best friend before she redirects her glare at you.

“Why do you even care so much? You can get dick elsewhere, Blondie! Leave him alone and don’t mess with him anymore, I think you have done enough!”

Your eyes widen at the words that took a blow to your chest, your throat tightens and you shake your head in disbelief.

You have done enough?

What could you possibly have done?

Eddie squints his eyes at the drunk girl before him, and he steps closer to the both of you.

“Why doesn’t Harrington want to see her anymore, Buckley?” He asks carefully.

Robin takes a deep breath and sighs, mumbling incoherent words under her breath, she runs her fingers through her short hair and tilts her head up, chuckling at the ceiling though not in amusement.

And then she suddenly looks at you with the deepest frown you had ever seen in her features, a fire burning in her eyes as she sneers at you.

“Because she is just going to break his heart sooner or later! She doesn’t feel anything for him!” She yells, pointing a finger at you. “She’s been playing with him from the fucking start, with his feelings and he is already suffering. I’m not gonna let her do worse!”

You draw back, with your eyes wide and your face stunned, you don’t know what to say, you don’t know what to feel.

The storm is raging outside just as the one in this kitchen is, it’s thundering at full blast and raining harshly but nothing fazes you now, not even the purple lightning.

It takes you a moment, a long moment to realize the meaning behind her words and the moment they sink in fully, you feel the aching inside of you.

“W-What did you just say?”

Eddie frowns at her, blinking as he looks at her, “Buckley… you told me Harrington didn’t feel anything…”

You glance at your best friend, confused about his words too, and you’re about to ask but Robin isn’t done just yet.

“Why does that matter!? Why does she fucking care how he feels?” She points at you again, taking a deep breath before she continues, “she never did, never have, never will! She always treated him poorly, even in high school for fucks sake and you want me to believe that she feels something for him!?”

Heat spreads through your whole body, to your chest and your throat, to your face and lighting up everything inside of you in the worst way possible, making your skin tingle with rage and your eyes burn with tears.

You don’t even think before you step towards her and grab her shoulders, pushing her up against the wall behind her, catching both her and Eddie off guard as you let your anger take over.

“You don’t get to fucking dictate my own feelings! I always thought you were stupidly observant but now I realize you are dense with anything else around you besides two people! You are ignorant towards everyone else, never giving anyone the benefit of the doubt!”

Robin stares at you wide eyed, not knowing what to say or do.

“If you looked at me, even for just one second you would have known how much I care for him. If you had given me that chance you would have seen just how much I feel for him! If you had even looked at me back in high school you would have seen that I have been hiding and suppressing these feelings for him, for fucking years!”

“I–”

You shake your head at her, shutting her up with a simple glare.

Tears blur your vision, your heart is pounding in your chest as you look at someone you once considered a friend.

You don’t know what she said to him, what words she used to make him stay away but you don’t even know if you do want to know, rage runs deep enough already.

“And you think I am this cold hearted bitch, well news fucking flash, Buckley, you never got to know me at all, so you have no right to say that! You have no right to judge my own heart!”

Robin’s blue eyes shine with tears, her features now softening and twisting into regret as realization dawns on her.

Eddie stands there in shock, not knowing how to be of help.

“So… you… for Steve–” Robin stutters, whispering.

Your bottom lip trembles as hot tears fall from your eyes, the excitement that lingered in you all day has turned into fear. You don’t know where he is, what he thinks, what he feels now that this has been ruined, if there is still a chance for you to fix something you didn’t even break.

But even through all this, you now know that there is, there was a chance. She wouldn’t hate you over nothing, she wouldn’t feel so protective of him if there were no feelings involved.

Fear envelopes your heart so fully and strongly that it nearly paralyzes you.

What if it’s done?

What if it’s over now?

You tremble and your tears cascade down your face, you don’t bother to hide them, to wipe them away, to hide your pain from the one who caused it.

You breathe in shakily and step away from her, finally letting go of her.

“There is no way in hell you will be the first to hear those words coming out of my mouth. I won’t say it out loud for the first time unless it is with him.”

Those are your last words to Robin before you turn on your heel and walk away from her and from your best friend, who doesn’t even try to stop you.

With tears rolling down your cheeks and an anxious heart, you rush out of the kitchen and through the empty hallway, you grab your jacket and the keys to Billy’s car, not even bracing yourself before you walk straight into the storm, not caring about your pounding heart when thunder crashes above you and the wind blows strongly against you as the rain envelopes you on your way to the car, wetting through your clothes and sending shivers down your spine.

You jump into the car with your hair clinging to your face already, rain and tears mingling together and running down your hot cheeks. You try to blink your tears away but to no avail, they keep building up and falling, your throat tightening more and more each passing second as a sob threatens to fall from your lips.

You start the car and grab the steering wheel, sniffling as you hold onto it tightly, breathing in the air around you, clutching your hand around the leather as though you’re trying to find comfort in something that used to belong to the person that always encouraged you to fight for this, for him.

Everything inside of you is crumbling now, to pieces, to shambles.

You look at the sky and you do something you have never done before, you beg, you beg for that one thing to work out, you would fall to your knees if you had to. You can’t lose this, you can’t lose him.

You back out of Eddie’s driveway and slam your foot against the accelerator causing the tires to screech as you speed down the road.

Your hands are trembling just the way your whole body does, your ears are ringing, the rain that paddles down the windows matching your tears.

Her words echo in your mind, all the hurtful things she said about you don’t even come close to the pain you feel when you think about him.

You never wanted him to hurt, not for a single second.

You would have taken all the pain just to protect him from it all, knowing that he is aching because of you, brings a deeper pain to you than ever before and you don’t know how he will react to seeing you, if he even wants to see you now but you are willing to try and you are willing to fight.

You can almost feel a little shock coming through the leather of the steering wheel. Something that wants to prompt you into letting go and finally park in front of his house. Something that is pushing you into being strong, to fight, to finally jump over the hole to reach the other side. It’s almost as if you could hear the words…

You can do it sweets…

Steve’s car is in the driveway, the TV light flickers through the living room window, he is here, he is home and you don’t waste any more time, you park the car behind his, you jump out and back into the cold rain.

The water splashes beneath your sneakers, the thunder makes you flinch this time but you clench your fists and rush towards his house, ringing the bell and slamming your fist against the door over and over again, yelling his name.

You feel the hotness from your tears and the shaking of your lips, not because of the cold rain but because of the emotions bleeding through you.

You wait and you wait, fearing that he might not open, that he can’t even stand to see you anymore, that he won’t give you the chance to talk, to tell him how you really feel.

You slam your fist against the door again, knocking a few times as broken sniffles fall from you while the storm rages behind you.

What must be a few seconds that you’re waiting out here, standing in the pouring rain, feels like forever.

Your heart beats against your ribcage, the coil in your throat beginning to choke you and you can’t even see through your blurry vision anymore. You taste the saltiness from your tears, you feel the panic sinking deeper and deeper.

You’re still begging and it takes everything in you not to crumble to your knees.

And then, Steve opens the door with bloodshot eyes, a piercing gaze that threatens your hope, that threatens your resolve.

A gaze that says “it’s done.”

You’re both done.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals!

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars @moon-flowerrs

#dwoht -- chapter twenty one #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #stranger things angst

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spicycinnabun · 26 days ago

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🐺 ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

whump + moon madness. small tw for buck's rsd.

Run with me tonight? ❤️

The moment Buck sent the text, he wanted to hurl his phone across the firehouse.

Mature, yeah, he knew. Asking a gorgeous Alpha werewolf on a moon date did that to a guy, though.

This next step, it felt right. Buck was ready for more. He wanted to be closer on a physical level. He would even go as far as to say he needed it.

They had interacted briefly during an accident. Completely professional, of course, though it had helped that the rain had been pelting down on them and masking their scents from each other.

Attempts to get together outside of work had been unsuccessful. It was the busy season, and their schedules were hell. The distance was making Buck restless.

Seeing Tommy through FaceTime was great, but now it felt like it was only keeping him sane, not fed. He had accumulated four of Tommy’s hoodies. At one point, he had worn two at the same time.

He had also started feeling Tommy’s emotions. That was what it had to be. His blood would boil with irritation, his heart would race with adrenaline, or the ache of gloom not his own would weigh him down. His wolf brain would shake him, telling him Alpha needs you, and he would reach out.

Buck had tried looking it up. Naturally, with werewolf lore on the web, he found a variety of different theories—some plausible, some wildly unhinged—and a lot of erotic fiction.

He had purchased a few ebooks. You know, for research.

The keywords? Pack, bond, and mate.

He should’ve taken it all with a thick grain of salt.

He hadn’t.

Buck felt an energy pulling him and the Alpha together. It was weaving them, intertwining them, string by string. Why would he be experiencing Tommy’s emotions if they weren’t in the process of bonding?

It made sense.

He wondered if Tommy could feel him, too.

Buck put his phone on the counter. When no bubbles appeared, he circled the room aimlessly. He opened and closed cupboards, moved things around and looked at labels without comprehending the words, filled the watering can and watered a plant, forgetting it was plastic. Came back to stare.

Still nothing.

Chim and Hen had paused their game to watch him, one amused, the other bemused.

“Full moon got you antsy, Buck?” Hen asked.

Antsy was an understatement. Buck’s fur was ready to jump out of his skin. He craved the shift badly. He couldn’t wait to see Tommy fully turned and to run alongside him. He bet Tommy’s wolf was incredible.

“He probably needs to go for a walk,” Chim said, knocking his pool cue against his hip. “You wanna take him?”

Hen shot him an unimpressed glance.

“Oh, very funny, guys,” Buck said. “I’m—”

His phone buzzed, and he snatched it up, turning away from them. His smile died.

Wish I could, but I’ve got plans. Maybe another time?

Buck re-read the message. It stole his breath, sharp like a punch to the gut.

Maybe another time meant a moon check that would never happen.

Tommy… was clearly trying to let him down easy.

He had felt so sure Tommy would say yes, that Tommy wanted to spend the night with him. Because Tommy looked at him a certain way, spoke to him a certain way. Because Buck felt like he belonged to Tommy.

So much for that bond. Was he being totally delusional? Was it one-sided?

I’ve got plans.

With who?

There were only certain people they could spend the moon with. It was dangerous to be around humans when they were in their most feral state. They could be unpredictable.

Considering Tommy’s inclination to keep his lycanthropy card close to his chest, it had to be another werewolf.

Buck was always alone on the full. (He’d woken up various morning afters on Maddie or Eddie’s couch—with no memory of how he’d gotten there. Last time, he’d tracked mud all over Eddie’s floor and had to rent a Rug Doctor. He’d spent most of that day apologizing profusely while he cleaned up his mess.)

His senses had pinged Tommy as a lone Alpha, and he hadn’t detected the presence of anyone else, but he’d never asked. Just assumed.

Maybe Tommy had an ex he’d rekindled with, or somewolf he had recently met and found he liked more than Buck, or—

Buck quickly tapped out a response.

Yeah, sure

That sounded moody. He might as well have added a whatever.

Hope you have fun :)

And he did hope that, but he selfishly wished the fun would’ve been with him, not whoever Tommy’s mystery date was.

They were probably all the things Buck wasn’t.

Maybe they were a born wolf. Pure and not a bitten mutt like him. Did that matter to Tommy? Out of all the questions Buck had bombarded him with, he’d failed to ask that.

This was the moment he’d been dreading. Tommy had gotten tired of him. Buck wondered what had done it. When had been the moment?

It didn’t matter because it had happened—he just wished he knew what he’d done wrong.

He had to remind himself, like he did whenever rejection stung, that even his maker didn’t want to come back and finish the job of killing him. That was the universe’s biggest hint that he wasn’t worth the effort, yet he kept trying to attach himself to people anyway.

It had felt different with Tommy, though. He really thought...

Buck sighed. He needed to get over himself. Nothing was worse than a guy who couldn’t take no for an answer. He wouldn’t be that guy.

Not being that guy wouldn’t stop him from burning with jealousy—another monster clawing at his ribcage—but he could at least not be a dick. He still wanted to be Tommy’s friend, if Tommy would have him.

But Tommy obviously needed some space.

Buck’s phone gave him the low battery warning. Instead of plugging it in to charge, Buck pocketed it.

“Buck?” Hen said. Given her tone, she’d likely tried to get his attention a few times. “You okay? Your Lite-Brite eyes are on.”

Shit. Buck squeezed them shut, forcing himself calm. He didn’t want to lose control and have Bobby send him home early. He didn’t want to be alone in his loft.

He couldn’t say anything. Besides the fact Tommy wasn’t out to them—as a were—Buck had a hunch they’d tell him he was overreacting. He didn’t want his nose rubbed in it.

“Yeah,” he said. “J-just, uh, a little bit of moon madness. Think I’m going to hit the gym. Try and shake it off.”

He hadn’t thought of working out, but it might help stop him from spiralling further.

Buck launched himself over the banister, landing in front of the firetruck and startling Eddie.

“Told you he just needed to go for his walkies,” he heard Chim say, followed by an impact and, “Ow! What?”

Buck changed into his workout gear.

He lifted weights until his veins popped. He jumped rope at triple speed. He ran until he was drenched in sweat and the treadmill started smelling like burnt rubber.

It didn’t help.

⏾

Buck meant to stay away.

He really did.

He was going to leave Tommy alone. He wouldn’t go anywhere near his territory or stick his snout where it wasn’t wanted. But something was seriously off. Panic was rippling through him over and over again. His wolf brain was insistent.

Something was wrong.

Buck hadn’t felt anything from Tommy tonight. It was like he had been cut off. Like a wall had gone up. Another thing he’d read—if an Alpha wanted to, they could hide themselves from their pack.

Was Tommy hiding from him?

There were two sets of unfamiliar tracks in the area. The third—Tommy’s—was older. He hadn’t been outside for at least a few days.

Something was very wrong.

Alpha was in danger.

The wall suddenly crumbled. It was only an echo, a reverberation, but it tore through Buck. Agony.

No, no, no.

Buck’s head shot to the sky. He used all the strength in his lungs, howling. Alpha!

He waited.

Waited.

It was only a flicker. A hint of a spark. Buck froze and honed in on it, lifting a paw.

“Evan…”

Buck took off, hurtling through the trees. Branches whipped him as he forced his way through dense, overgrown brush and leapt over logs.

Almost there! Hang on!

“Please…don’t…”

He had never heard Tommy sound like that before.

Buck barked. It was almost a scream, inhuman and raw. His paw pads pounded the dirt. He panted, huffing and puffing as he pushed, pushed, pushed towards Tommy’s cabin. He didn’t know what was going on—or who was hurting Alpha, but Buck was going to save him.

I’m coming! I’m coming to get you!

⏾

tag list: @justahumblecabbagemerchant @loulou-land @harmonic-intervention @sweaters-and-silly @theallyandhisbeast @brassm-tagged @scuderiadebauchery @chococara25 @darkqueen458 @cinderellarhea @setmeatopthepyre @buffaluff @eliotwaughdeservesbetter @figuringitoutaloud @cannibalhellhound @i-dont-even-know-anymore976 @ambernotember @the-omniscient-narrator @zeraparker @cometconnector @fenrirscarsback @moonydanny @espressopatronum454

previous parts

#thanks!#make me write #bt weewoof au #evan barkley #tommy k9rd #fic #911 #911 abc #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #bucktommy fic #bucktommy au #kinley #tevan #firebeast #werewolf au #🐺

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into-fiction · 2 months ago

Text

bc so many liked my gelphie as parents headcanons and i couldn't get the idea of them out of my mind- here's one way in which our favorite witches could've acquired a tiny human:

///

It’s just past midnight when Glinda gets the call, Elphaba already sound asleep on the other side of the bed. She had just been finishing the last of her work when her phone buzzes on the table, and she’s up from her desk in a flash, pressing a soothing kiss to Elphaba’s forehead as she whispers to her to go back to sleep.

She had already dressed down for the night, so she hastens to pull on some proper clothes and has just enough time to get a mug of tea prepared when the bouncing beams of a car’s headlights flash through the front windows. There’s a police officer walking up the porch steps when Glinda gets to the door, hoping to avoid the harsh call of the doorbell.

“Hi,” she greets, a bit breathless as she takes in the sight. They were supposed to have more time. Significantly more time.

“Are you Glinda Upland?” the officer checks. He’s holding a backpack in one hand while the other is resting on the shoulder of a small boy, no more than five or six years old.

“Yes, that’s me. My wife and I were cleared for emergency foster care.”

The officer nods, nudging the boy forward a step. “This is Liir,” he introduces. The boy--Liir--looks up at Glinda with a frown, eyes narrowed with childish suspicion. It’s all too easy to see the fear that lurks behind the show of bravado.

Glinda gives him her warmest smile. “Hello, Liir,” she says. “I’m Glinda. Would you like to come inside?”

Liir looks between the police officer and the open door several times before he finally steps forward. He’s wearing a bright green cast on one arm, his left cheek dusted by a purple bruise, one of what is likely many to be found peppering his small body.

It isn’t fair. Glinda knows that abuse is a common reason for children to end up in foster care, but it still hurts her to see the signs. Children are so small. So vulnerable. Who could do such a thing to them?

The officer hands over the small backpack, asking Glinda to sign a few papers before letting her know that she’ll receive more information in the morning. All she knows for now is that Liir is six years old and was removed from his father’s care.

“Don’t worry,” Glinda finds herself saying. “I’ll take care of him.”

She looks down at the little boy as he watches the officer leave. His hair is a tangled mess that falls around his face, his clothes worn and dirty. He must be so tired, so confused by what is happening. She has been told this is the hardest part- full of tears and questions and pleas for things that Glinda cannot give.

“Alright, Liir,” Glinda says, trying to be as upbeat as she can for nearly one in the morning. “It looks like you’re going to be staying with me and my wife, Elphaba, for a little while. She’s asleep upstairs right now.”

The boy turns and looks up at her with deep green eyes, a mossy color not unlike her wife’s. They shift after a moment to take in the house, lit by lamps that cut golden circles of light into the shadows. It must be terrifying being suddenly dumped in the arms of strangers.

“Hey,” she says softly. She crouches down so she can meet the boy face to face. “I know it’s scary. But you are safe here, Liir. No one here will ever hurt you.”

She holds her hand out slowly, letting it hang in the air patiently as she waits to see if Liir will initiate contact. The little boy looks utterly exhausted, and she’s sure he’s had a very long night. All she wants is to gather him in her arms and tuck him into bed, clean and warm and cozy.

Several long seconds pass, Glinda’s arm growing tired being held out like this, but she waits, expression open and smile kind. She’ll wait as long as he needs until-- there. Liir takes a tiny step toward her, hand reaching out to slip into Glinda’s own.

Glinda closes her fingers and runs a soothing thumb across Liir’s knuckles. “Tell you what,” she says. “How about we get you a bath and some warm jammies, and then you can pick out what bed you want to sleep in. How does that sound?”

Liir nods, not saying anything as he shuffles a little closer. He sniffles slightly, eyelashes wet when he blinks, and Glinda gives his hand a gentle squeeze.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you,” Glinda promises. “I’ve got you, Liir.”

#i know pregnant gelphie's been done so i wanted to go another route #did i mention i love kid fics?#obvi liir isnt fiyerabas kid in this au #wicked #gelphie #elphaba x glinda #galinda upland #liir thropp #foster care #drabbles #modern au

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athforskz · 1 year ago

Text

I’ll Take Care of You - Han Jisung

Masterlist

Pairing: Han x reader (afab)

wc: ~2.1k

Type: fluff, smut, established relationship

Warnings: Exhaustion, stress, mention of collapse, cunninglingus, little bit of somnophilia (if you squint), aftercare.

a/n: Always remember to take a break when you need it!

Enjoy lovelies!

It had been such a tiring week. You were stretched thin mentally and physically, juggling constantly between school and work. Needless to say that your personal life has taken a nose dive. You barely had time to hang out with friends, visit with family, or see your boyfriend, Jisung. That one bothered you the most. No matter how many times you told him you felt bad for not spending time with him or turning down plans, he always said he understood. But you could tell it bothered him. The way he’d give you a small smile would tug at your heartstrings because you saw the slight disappointment and sadness behind his eyes. There had to be some way to make it up to him, but you didn’t have the brain capacity to worry about that now.

At the moment, you were stumbling your way off the train and walking back home from your job. You worked the second shift so it was currently about mid-evening. Your boss sent you home early on the account of your less than desirable performance. It wasn’t your fault you hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, nor the past few nights for that matter. You had pulled a couple all-nighters to finish projects or study for your degree. Okay, maybe it had been your fault for choosing to go back to school, but you just wanted to do your best.

You finally reached the front door to your apartment, fumbling and ultimately dropping your keys multiple times, mumbling out an explicative “…fuck.” Jisung was inside lowly listening to music when he heard the lock click. He was confused as you were the only other person with a key besides him, but you weren’t scheduled to be home for at least another six hours. Right?

Jisung’s face lit up as he saw you kick open the door and drop the bag from your shoulder onto the ground. You entered with a deep sigh.

“Jagiya! You’re home early?” He sprung from the couch to make his way over to greet you. All you could do was give a weak smile, leaning your head onto his chest when he pulled you into a hug and kissed your cheek.

“Something happen with work?” He asked you.

“Mhm kinda,” you responded shortly to avoid details. You didn’t want him to worry after all. Jisung placed his hands on your shoulders and pulled away slightly to look at you. He could see that the bags under your eyes had darkened and your appearance was overall a little disheveled. Your body shivered for no apparent reason as he took in your mein. He knew you only shivered like that when you were exhausted; a sign that you were dangerously close to collapsing.

“Honey, when is the last time you slept or ate something?” His eyebrows knitted in worry.

“I slept for a few minutes after I studied. As for food, can’t remember.” You answered truthfully. Maybe it was yesterday morning? His eyes had widened. A few minutes of sleep?! Don’t know the last time you had food?? His brain was already in overdrive as he led you to the couch to sit you down, then retreated to the kitchen. Jisung just needed to get you something quick for now, then he’d order you a full meal later.

Jisung returned from the kitchen not even a full minute later to find you half asleep on the sofa. He sat beside you opening up the breakfast bar he grabbed.

“Can you sit up for me please, honey? I just need you to eat this then I’ll help you get to bed, yeah?” He gently rubbed your thigh to wake you up. You groaned in response. “I know, but you gotta do this. C’mon sit up with me.” Jisung pulled your body towards his, your head slumping on his shoulder. He held the snack up to your lips and you took a bite before closing your eyes again and chewing. When you swallowed you opened your mouth again, effectively letting your boyfriend feed you. He’d occasionally kiss the crown of your head as you chewed, whispering a “Good job. You’re doing so well for me, jagi,” as encouragement.

Once you finished the light snack, Jisung lifted you from the couch and took you to the shared bathroom. He sat you down on the counter making sure you were pushed up far enough so if you swayed too far one way you wouldn’t fall off. Jisung’s main goal at the moment was to get you as relaxed as possible before putting you to bed. He knew you well enough to know that if he didn’t relax you, you’d only sleep a few minutes again, then force yourself to get up and study. If he was going to do this he had to do it right. Since being with you, he knew you loved doing a specific routine before going to bed to help you unwind. Sometimes he’d even do it with you just so you both had a little bit of time together.

Jisung opened the drawer pulling out a few items for your skincare regime. He lined up the products in order before turning to you and placing a soft fluffy headband over your head to keep your hair out of your face. He pulled out a matching one that you had bought for him a few months ago and put it on himself. You let out a tired giggle as he poked his own cheeks and bobbed his head around, the bow on his headband making him look like a bunny.

You automatically closed your eyes once he brought a makeup wipe close to your face. Gently wiping away most of it. He tossed the wipe in the trash before getting a warm washcloth and wetting your face with it, then did the same to his own. Jisung moved over to stand comfortably between your legs, giving a chaste kiss to your lips before applying your facial cleanser. He hummed a low tune as he massaged your skin.

“Babe, you know I can do this myself.” You quipped. All he did was place his pointer finger on your lips with a quiet “shh.” You decided not to say anything else, figuring he wouldn’t take no for an answer anyways. Besides, you were enjoying all the attention.

After each step he’d do for you he would do the same for himself too, right down to patting in your moisturizer just the way you always do it. You had no idea Jisung paid that close attention to your nighttime routine; it was comforting in a way.

“All done, my pretty.” He placed a hand under your chin bringing you closer until your lips connected. The kiss was soft, nothing too brash or overly needy, it was full of love and warmth. You pulled away first as you felt the need to yawn overcome your senses.

“Thanks, sweet cheeks.” You weakly smiled. He chuckled while wrapping your legs around his waist and carrying you off of the counter and to the bedroom.

“…m’ tired, Sungie.” You complained while laying your head on his shoulder.

“I know, y/n, baby. I promise we’ll sleep in just a few. Need to get you out of these clothes first.”

Jisung sat you down on the bed as you slumped over. “C’mon, arms up.” He directed, and you did what he asked. He took your top off and unclipped the annoying bra that dug into your shoulders. Your breasts fell free and you breathed a sigh of relief. Next, he commanded you to lift your hips so he could easily slide off your pants. Now you were left in nothing but your underwear. A cool breeze from the open window hit your back. You shivered at the air, “too cold.” You whined. Your boyfriend was already on it as he grabbed one of his oversized hoodies. He helped you put it on before laying you back in the middle of the bed, making sure you were extra comfy and kissing your cheeks. Your eyes fluttered shut.

Right when you thought Jisung was going to snuggle up beside you, you felt his warm breath tickle your thighs and his hands on the hem of your panties.

“Sungie? What are-“

He hushed you before you could finish the question. He simply kissed your legs as he pulled the pesky cloth completely off. Jisung knew if he wanted you totally relaxed there was just one more step he needed to do.

He needed to make you cum.

And he’d gladly do it with his mouth.

It was no secret that Jisung was a munch, he was proud of it actually. Who wouldn’t be if someone constantly had their cake and got to eat it too? You were his cake and he’d find any excuse to eat you.

Jisung gazed at your already glistening heat taking in the sight and absolutely intoxicating scent of you. He ran a finger up and down your slit to gather the slick before bringing it to his mouth and licking it off. He moaned at your unique taste that he could never get tired of. Your sleepy face flushed in a deep blush as you watched your boyfriend’s actions.

“Just lay back and relax for me, jagi. I’ll take care of you.” His sultry voice graced your ears.

Almost simultaneously when your head hit the pillow his plush lips connected with your lower ones. Your back arched when his tongue pressed between your slit and licked up to tease at your clit. Jisung pulled away slightly while sucking before diving back into your core. A symphony of moans and whimpers escaped your throat and mixed with the obscene noises of him slurping, licking, and sucking your pussy.

Your body was so tired but still you reached down to grab your boyfriend’s hair with both hands, tugging slightly. He wrapped his arms around your thighs to keep you spread open for him. Free to continue his loving assault on your clit. So much of your sweetness was leaking out of your slit and mixing with his saliva to drip down onto the sheets, making an embarrassingly large wet spot just beneath your butt. Your whining became higher pitched as you neared your impending orgasm.

“Ah- Ji, so s’ close!!” You managed to warn him. The imaginary band in your lower belly nearly snapping. Jisung could tell you were close even without the warning by the way you pushed your pelvis closer and rolled your hips on his mouth. He pulled your hands from his hair and interlaced your fingers with his, your grip becoming tight as you held hands.

He then proceeded to dip his tongue into your entrance pumping it in and out of the clenching hole. That was enough to send you toppling over the edge. A silent scream came as your body shook violently once your orgasm overtook you and you came all over your boyfriend’s mouth.

Jisung slowly licked you clean, savoring the taste of your sweetness on his tastebuds. He kissed his way back up to your clit and gave it one final suck making your body jolt and a whimper leave your lips. When he finally looked up to your face he could see you had fallen asleep.

The intense orgasm must have knocked her out. He thought.

He had a sly look on his face, feeling proud of himself as he wiped the remainder of your slick off of his chin. Jisung moved up from his spot between your legs to lay behind you. He pulled you close and kissed your hair.

“Sleep well and sweet dreams, baby.” He whispered to you as he listened to your soft snores before drifting off to sleep himself.

Jisung’s plan worked perfectly. You had slept all throughout the night until the next morning. No interruptions. However, you did wake up in a slight panic.

“Holy shit! What time is it?!” You yelled as your eyes shot open. You tried to fumble your way out of bed but your boyfriend stopped you. Quickly pulling you back down by your hips and cradling your body.

“Jagiya, calm down. It’s Saturday, you have nowhere to be!” He laughed as you sighed in relief. “Our plan for today is to nap as much as possible and eat in between. I already ordered from your favorite breakfast spot. It should be here soon. How does that sound?” He punctuated with a kiss. Something so simple sounded so amazing.

“That sounds like the perfect day. Thank you, Sungie.”

And that’s just what you two did. If you weren’t sleeping, Jisung had food ready and waiting for you. He had done everything and more for you the rest of the day, much to your dismay. But you couldn’t lie, the Jisung princess treatment was definitely nice.

Likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated!

Taglist: @doitforbangchan / @jehhskz

#stray kids #skz #mdni #18+ mdni #Han Jisung #han x reader #jisung x reader #han jisung x reader #han jisung x y/n #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #han jisung smut #han jisung fluff

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brattyspence · 2 months ago

Note

you say dad!spencer and i come running like the wind. with the time change this weekend i’ve been thinking about spencer with a little one whose sleep schedule does NOT adjust well with the time change and does the whole “the sun is out so i should be awake” debate and then chaos ensues because spencer thinks blackout curtains but then it’s too dark even with the nightlight

a/n: dad!spencer requests always open. always. not proofread bc i dont wanna ❤️

tags: girl dad!spencer, no mention of reader bc ???, fluff fluff fluffy

word count: ~ 600

masterlist

Spencer thinks he has it all figured out.

The morning begins smooth enough. Charlotte is coaxed out of bed with the promise of Nutella on toast and five extra minutes of story time before school. She's sleepy, full of yawns and grumpy toddler expressions, but she's up and cooperating.

“Why did we get up early?” She asks, socked feet wiggling off the edge of the sink as Spencer attempts to mix her mess of hair into a more presentable look.

“We didn't,” he replies. “We got up at the same time we always do.”

“No,” she huffs. “It's dark outside.”

Spencer sighs, nudging one loose curl back behind her ear. “Yeah. We lost an hour last night.”

“We lost an hour?”

He senses his mistake immediately.

“No. Not exactly. We didn't lose the hour-”

“Where did it go?”

“It didn't go anywhere. We just turned the clocks back an hour.”

“But why?”

It's futile, he knows. There's almost no point in explaining to to her. He knows she could understand, but she's a toddler. She will choose to fight and poke and prod, especially if it means making bedtime more complicated for him.

That night, the conversation picks right back up where it left off.

“But the sun is out,” Charlotte says, voice full of conviction. “When the sun is awake, I’m awake.”

“The sun is always awake,” Spencer replies. “It never goes to sleep. It's just visiting another part of the world.”

“But-”

“Honey.”

Charlotte frowns, watching him draw her curtains closed, leaving her room darker than it's ever been.

“Is the moon gone?” She asks, voice noticeably smaller.

Spencer sighs. He knows she's not not pushing his buttons anymore. The usual bite has left her tone, and instead he's reminded that shes three. She's actually asking a question this time.

“No. The moon is on its way. It's just… running late today.”

Even in the dark room, he can just barely see the reflection of her wide eyes staring back at him.

“You're sure?”

He nods, although she can't see. “I’m sure."

She's quiet now. He knows she's thinking, trying to work it all out in her own way, and she won't be sleeping if she's worried.

“Scooch over.”

Bedsheets ruffle and shift as Charlotte repositions herself, making room for him on the edge of her bed. She tucks herself up against him, wiggling around for a moment until she's content.

“I'll tell you all about the moon and the sun and how they work if you close your eyes and try to sleep,” he says.

Charlotte nods, squeezing her eyes shut.

As he begins to explain the time change, starting from the tilt of the earth and how it rotates, he knows she's listening. Her eyebrows furrow slightly, and she fidgets every so often.

“-and we orbit the sun. Orbit means that we rotate around it. And it takes us one whole year to orbit the sun.”

“I've been around the sun three times?” She asks, peeking one eye open.

“Mhm. So if you think about it, on your birthday, the earth is right back where it was on the day you were born.”

In a few more minutes, her grip on his shirt softens, and soon she's asleep.

Spencer knows he should leave her be– putting her to bed like this is only creating bad habits–but he doesn't. Instead, he makes sure she's tucked in, and then settles himself in against her pillows. Really, you only get a few trips around the sun before your kids grow up and stop asking hard questions.

#Spencer x reader #Spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #fluff #Spencer reid #Spencer reid fluff #dad spencer reid #dad Spence agenda #my things!#requests

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lichenes · 5 months ago

Note

Hi, could you do a young silco x nb! reader where they have been friends for years and have been pinning HARD on each other, and one of them(your choice idk who) over hears the other talking about how they feel, and basically, they are kinda forced into confessing...that kinda leads to smut with feelings..pleasethankyouso

Silco falls to his knees for you in this one btw. Just so you know. Tried to write the smut as gn as possible!! CW: vanilla sex?? nothing wild ig, no reader genitals mentioned, gn!reader, silco and reader being oblivious wc: 838 . * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ . * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚. * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚. * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚. * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚

You stretched your body walking into the bar part of The Last Drop. “Morning.” You said to Vander who was preparing the bar for opening. “It ain’t quite morning anymore, luv.” You looked at the clock which displayed 7:30pm on the dot. “I couldn’t sleep all night...” You said still blinking back sleep from your eyes.

“Your shift starts in half an hour, by the way.” Said Silco appearing seemingly out of nowhere. “Clients don’t show up until like 10, relax.” You mused, a bit startled by his sudden presence, nevertheless happy he was there.

You were dressed in your usual work clothing, nothing special, just a pair of slacks, a loosely fitted dress shirt and an apron meant to keep the uniform at least partially clean. You were wiping down the tables before more of the guests arrived, final touches as Vander liked to call it. You were the only person serving food and cleaning tonight so you had your hands full.

Silco felt cornered. Mesmerised - he was mesmerised by you. Sitting at the bar and nursing a glass of whatever was cheapest, he purposefully ignored you. Were he to pay you any mind, he would go insane. Not an hour ago did he overhear you confessing your infatuation with him to your coworker.

“Okay, who is it then?” Said the newest addition to the staff. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop… truly, he was just about to ask you something menial when he heard his name being spoken. It rolled off your tongue with such adoration when you were sure he wasn’t listening. “I’ve got my eye on Vander…” Commented the girl.

“Not my type.” Silcos heart beat faster. “You fancy Silco?” You hummed affirmatively, creating a memory for him, he was sure he’d never forget.

Vander waved his hand in front of Silco’s face, waking him up from the daydream. “You alright?” Silco’s face didn’t give away the whirlwind of emotions he was going through right in this moment. Although, he had slightly more colour in his face. “Yeah- listen.” He beckoned him closer. The bar, despite being quite loud, didn't offer enough privacy to say such things at full volume.

“They said they fancy me.” Vander looked at him in disbelief. He then chuckled. “What, like you didn’t know?” Silco’s face went pale. He grabbed the bar’s edge. “Mate, everyone in the undercity knows this. The whole, you know, back and forth you lot have going on.”

Silco stood up. He was a calculated man. His actions were meticulous. Years of yearning. Months of planning a confession and that’s how he finds out the love of his life actually reciprocates his feelings!? He wasn’t following a script or a plan. “I need to find them. Now.”

You were taking your break in the back when Silco burst through the door. You smiled at him and just when you were about to greet him he closed the door and ran up to you. “Silco?” You questioned his erratic behaviour.

“...for years, and it feels like he doesn’t notice it!”

He smashed his lips into your own ones cradling both your cheeks as he lowered himself to the floor, finishing his descent on his knees. You reciprocated the kiss, craning your head down so that he could stay close to you.

You enjoyed the moment as much as you could, afraid it was to flee as soon as you separated.

When you did, you put your foreheads together. Laughing slightly you looked at him and caressed his cheek with your thumb. “Took you long enough.” He then felt it, the hunger he suppressed for so many years. He dove back in, greedier than before. You moaned in surprise but welcomed it nevertheless.

You battled for dominance for a moment, in the end he won. There never was questioning it. “I need you.” You managed to get out.

“I’ll make you need me even more.”

You were resting your back on the door of the room which was locked to prevent people from interrupting your tryst. Silco had one of your legs propped on his hip, holding onto the neighbouring cabinet was the other thing keeping you upright.

He was thrusting into you with vigour that was making you go cross eyed. Your arms around his neck were only adding to the experience, you needed him closer, right here - right now is all that counted.

You saw white when he put his cold hands onto your most sensitive spot. A few circles is what got you to the edge and his blissed out words spilling from his lips - ‘come for me’ - for me. You’d do anything for him at this moment.

And so you followed his instruction, causing his own orgasm after your own. He put his head on your shoulder when you both were basking in the afterglow. You brushed his bangs out of his face. His eyes were twinkling.

“Tell Vander he needs to find a replacement for you tonight, I need you all to myself.”

. * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ . * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚. * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚. * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚. * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ masterlist

#x reader #writing #fluff #smut #silco #arcane silco #smut and fluff #silco x reader #silico x reader #silico arcane #silico #arcane #silco arcane #arcane season 2

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littlelovelunette · 2 months ago

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my english is not the best but i hope you understand :(

could you do one where reader and sev adopt a puppy and sev is super cute with him and treats him like a son?? 😭😭 I'm a big animal enthusiast lol

you can decide whether to add some smut or not, anyway, I love your writing!! :3 byee

Tiny Paws

The first time Sevika said no to the idea of a puppy, it was automatic.

“No,” she grunted, arms crossed over her chest, a cigar dangling from her fingers. “Too much work.”

You expected that, but you also knew how to wear her down.

The next time you brought it up, you took a different approach—showing her a picture of a pitiful, scrappy little thing with dark fur and big, scared eyes.

“Found him outside the Last Drop,” you said casually, placing your phone in front of her. “Poor thing’s shivering.”

Sevika barely spared a glance before exhaling smoke, flicking ash into the tray. “Not my problem.”

“Would be if you saw him in person,” you murmured, already pocketing your phone.

You didn’t bring it up again—not directly, at least. But the next night, you returned to the apartment with a small bundle in your arms.

The puppy, barely the size of a loaf of bread, whined softly as you set him on the couch. His ribs showed under patchy fur, his ears drooping in exhaustion.

Sevika, seated in her usual chair, sighed loudly. “You brought it home.”

“I couldn’t just leave him.”

She groaned but didn’t argue.

Instead, she took a long drag from her cigar, staring at the tiny thing curled up on your lap. You braced yourself for more protests, but instead,

Sevika muttered, “What’s his name?”

You hid your smile. “Haven’t picked one yet.”

She grumbled something under her breath, but later that night, you caught her crouching near the puppy, scratching his tiny head with her flesh fingers.

Sevika liked to pretend she wasn’t invested.

Sure, she acted indifferent when you bought the puppy a proper bed, when you set out food and water bowls in the kitchen. But you noticed how she always checked if his bowl was full before sitting down for the night.

And then came the moment that sealed it—when you woke up one morning to find Sevika asleep on the couch, the puppy curled up against her chest, his tiny body rising and falling with her slow breathing.

You nearly gasped, but before you could even reach for your phone, Sevika cracked one eye open. “Don’t,” she warned, voice rough with sleep.

You grinned. “Didn’t say anything.”

She carefully shifted, making sure the puppy stayed nestled against her. “He’s gonna get spoiled.”

“Maybe,” you teased, “but I think he’s already your favorite.”

Sevika scoffed, but when the puppy stirred and whined, she immediately ran a hand down his back, soothing him.

From that moment on, she dropped the act.

She carried him under one arm like he was her son, grumbling about how soft he was making her while feeding him scraps from her plate.

She kept him close during storms, rubbing his ears when thunder made him whimper.

And when some idiot at the bar made a joke about how ridiculous it was to see a fearsome enforcer doting on a puppy, Sevika simply narrowed her eyes and said, “Say that again.”

The guy didn’t.

You never said I told you so, but every time you watched Sevika cradle the little thing in her massive arms, talking to him in that rare, gentle voice of hers, you didn’t have to.

#arcane #sevika #sevika arcane #sevika my love #sevika i love you #sevika is my wife #sevika is so much more then a henchman #wlw #arcane sevika #sevika x reader

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sturniclos · 2 months ago

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Early bird gets the worm!

Pairing: Kyoya Ootori x reader Warnings: 18+ mdni, smut with fluff, creampie, morning sex, hints of overstimulation, praise.

It had been known upon Kyoya's friends and family that he was not, by any means, an early riser. Whenever bothered in the early morning, or any time before he had wanted to wake up (even if it's 4pm in the afternoon), Kyoya was always grouchy. Spouting cynical and rude comments, glowering and mumbling at whoever even thought of disturbing his sleep. Everyone had taken note to never bother him in bed.

However, in his second year of college, something started to shift.

Mori and Haruhi had taken note of it first- Kyoya had gotten progressively more polite. You could even go as far to say he had become an early bird, his second semester of classes mainly consisted of 8 or 9 am lectures compared to his 2 to 3 pm classes.

Kyoya had claimed it was because of the length of the classes- and it was better to go to one long class in the morning twice a week rather than five short ones in the afternoon. It had convinced most of the group- knowing he always had an efficient strategy in order to maximize anything for his benefit. In typical Ootori fashion, Kyoya had a logical reason for everything.

Tamaki had wondered what it was. A newfound maturity? He started going to bed earlier maybe. What if he started to become an insomniac and was actually never sleeping in the first place, and he started becoming kind as a result of his delirium?

Haruhi had crossed off the last option, rolling her eyes at his ridiculous assumption. She didn't really care why, but Tamaki never leaves things alone. Rejecting Tamaki's idea of watching his every move, Haruhi had opted to just ask Kyoya in order to settle Tamaki's nerves.

"Kyoya-kun, I've noticed you've been more of an early riser, is there any reason as to why?"

Kyoya tilts his head, looking up in contemplation before smiling to the side. "I've had more to look forward to in the mornings than I did before." His gaze follows you, observing your face as you animatedly tell the twins a story. Your eyes meet his for a split second, smiling sweetly at him before turning your attention back to the twins.

Haruhi immediately understands and looks at Kyoya as he admires you softly, a small smile gracing his lips as you laugh at the twins' responses. Tamaki, however, cannot accept the answer, and can't help but press more.

"What could've possibly transformed your nasty attitude into such a morning person?"

Kyoya pushes his adjusts his glasses before looking to the side, pausing as he stirs his tea to think about the answer. There were a couple of reasons, really.

You had started small. Giving him sleepy teas at around 8 pm, offering him a massage or inviting him to watch a movie with you. Goading him into sleeping earlier in the night. Slowly helping him loosen his tie and removing his shirt as he typed away at his laptop, peppering kisses along his neck. He could feel you practically smirk as his typing slows, more and more typos progressively pop up on his screen before he finally shuts the laptop shut to give you his full attention.

You'd tire him out before he could open his computer again, panting heavily against him as you bounced on his lap, his hands digging into the plush of your ass as he slightly guided you back and forth. A filthy combination of your slick and his pre making a mess on his lap, the lewd sound of skin slapping echoing in his room every time you sank further on his cock.

"m' close," He whispers, gripping you harder as he moves you faster. His lips latch onto your neck, his left hand moving to circle your clit in tight circles, earning a pathetic whimper from you in return.

"Come on, pretty girl, I know you have one more in you."

"Kyo- I can't, s'too much-" Your hips stutter against his, head falling into his neck as you try catching your breath. Kyoya is unrelenting, however, quickly speeding up his work on your clit while thrusting up into you as you gasp in pleasure. The heat in your gut turning into a tight coil as you spasm around him, kissing him through the overstimulation of him thrusting into you through your orgasm.

Kyoya returns the kiss deeply, his hands now gently rubbing your sides as he cums inside of you. His thumbs circle your hips, soft lips muttering praise as you both come down from your high. You groan slightly in response, glancing to the side to see a bright green "9:51" back at you, smiling softly before turning back to him.

"You have me beat. Let's take a shower in the morning together, yeah?"

Kyoya can't help but agree as he cleans you up with a warm rag, fighting the fatigue so that he can savor the moment of you in his arms before nodding off.

You'd work your magic until he'd slowly, but surely, started waking up earlier and earlier. His mood, however, had yet to change. A snappy mumble and slight glare still ever present as you slightly shook him awake.

Mornings were a lot slower, instead of shaking him awake, you'd started to wake up slightly earlier, lightly massaging his head to ease him out of sleep before getting up to start your own routine. You brush your teeth and get dressed and cook a simple breakfast, bringing the plate back to his room before resuming his head massage, sweetly cooing at him to wake up.

"Kyoya, it's time to get up. I made you breakfast."

His brows furrow before shaking his head slightly, pulling up the covers to his chin before turning towards his pillow.

You roll your eyes, leaning down to kiss his cheek, 1, 2, 3. The smile on his face slowly grows for every smooch you pepper on his face. How could he be mad when his sweet girlfriend is waking him up so kindly?

The blanket suddenly shifts, his bare torso revealed as he gets up to kiss you back. He rubs his nose against yours affectionately as he looks you in the eye.

"I know what you're trying to do."

You don't seem to feel guilty, instead landing another kiss on his lips with a dramatic "mwah!". A teasing smile on your face. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Kyoya indulges nonetheless, and now he finds himself waking up earlier than you do. Admiring your figure in the soft morning sunlight as your chest rises and falls with your breathing. His arm lazily hands around your waist as he caresses your back, appreciating the glow that highlights the tip of your eyelashes to the cupids bow of your lips.

When you do wake up, you cling closer to Kyoya, muttering a soft "g'morning." as you kiss his shoulder, slowly trailing down his torso to his briefs. You lightly palm his bulge before affectionately leaning on it, hot breath ghosting over the fabric, making his breath hitch as he lightly grasps the sheets.

Nimble fingers yank the band of his briefs down as you kiss the tip affectionately, looking up at him as you kitten lick his shaft before taking him in your mouth.

Kyoya sighs, hand finding purchase in your hair as you bob your head along his length, slowly going up before slamming your head down. His tip bruising the back of your sensitive through as your tongue flattens against the vein on the underside of his dick.

He's whiny in the morning, you note. Slight sleepiness making him more sensitive to your touch. His breathe hitches and small moans escaping through his praise as he throws his head back in pleasure.

"Fuck, feel so good around me. Love waking up like this." His hand in your hair grips tighter as he quickens the pace, reveling in the way you gag around his length. His harsh pace was a stark contrast to his hand on your shoulder, gently rubbing your shoulder as he roughly fucks your face.

You moan around him as you play with your tits, one hand pinching your nipple as you look back up at him, his normally icy glare gazing at you with adoration. His cock twitches at the eye contact before his spills into your mouth. You take it all, swallowing before disconnecting with a small "Pop!", a string of saliva connecting from his tip to your mouth.

His breathing is heavy before he brings your face to his, gently kissing you as he catches his breath between kisses. He pays you back, gently fucking you from behind in the shower. Goosebumps scatter your skin as he presses you harshly against the cold glass, watching as the water splashes around his hips with each thrust.

One would think it's greed. His never-ending greed to have you prettily whimpering in his room every time he wakes up, face buried against the base of his cock, or when he slowly cuddle fucks you as you whine against his soft satin pillows (a purchase he made just for you). He can't help it- it's hard to resist when you look so gorgeous in the early mornings. He feels rejuvenated after seeing you breathless and panting with his cum seeping out of you, whining at the loss of feeling full.

Soon enough, you'd successfully gotten Kyoya's sleep schedule on track. A healthy balance of cardio and rest, and Kyoya had never worked so efficiently. He almost wonders how he was able to acheive so much without you there.

The specific reason was far too intimate to share- especially to someone as dramatic as Tamaki. So instead, he shrugs and takes a sip of his drink.

"I got a better alarm clock."

#kyoya ootori x reader #kyoya ootori #kyoya x reader #ohshc kyoya #kyoya smut #I love him so much #ohshc fandom is dead but I prevail #totally self indulget #I can't fix him but I can fuck him #FIX IT BY FUCKING HIM!

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wendichester · 2 months ago

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hello!! i hope you're good and having a great day 🤍 i was wondering if you could write about how might possibly would dean and sam would react coming back to the bunker and being greeted by their senior dog (because senior dogs are awesome and i think they deserve more acknowledgement)? and the dog being the king/queen of the house or bunker in this case 👑 (maybe this dog was the only thing they could physically keep from their dad, idk just an idea) if it is okay for you and if you like the idea ofc 🫶🏻

also is it too obvious i am a dog person? hehe

་༘࿐ bunker's guardian,

summary. sam and dean come home to their trusty four legged bestie

pairing. sam winchester + dean winchester + senior doggo

wordcount. 445

notes. ma'am i love dogs and this was a pleasure to write 🐾

The bunker door creaks open, and Dean steps inside first, his boots heavy on the concrete floor. Sam follows, his arms full of grocery bags, and they’re both exhausted—another long hunt, another close call. But the moment they cross the threshold, the air shifts.

A soft thud echoes down the hallway, followed by the slow, deliberate click of nails on the floor. Dean freezes, his hand instinctively reaching for the knife at his side, but Sam just smiles.

“Relax,” Sam says, setting the bags down. “It’s just the queen of the castle.”

And then she appears—Roxy, their senior German Shepherd, her muzzle gray and her steps a little slower than they used to be. But her tail wags with the same enthusiasm as the day they found her, all those years ago, a scrappy little pup John Winchester had brought home after a hunt. She was supposed to be a guard dog, but she’d quickly become so much more.

“Hey, old girl,” Dean says, his voice softening as he crouches down. Roxy hobbles over to him, her tail wagging so hard her whole body sways, and Dean scratches behind her ears like he’s done a thousand times before.

“Missed us, huh?” Dean murmurs, and Roxy responds by licking his face, her breath warm and a little stinky, but Dean doesn’t care. He laughs, a real, genuine laugh, and it’s a sound Sam hasn’t heard in weeks.

Sam kneels beside them, running a hand over Roxy’s back. Her fur is thinner now, her frame a little bonier, but she’s still the same dog who used to sleep at the foot of his bed, who’d bark at nothing in the middle of the night. She’s the last living piece of their dad they have left, and she’s more than just a dog. She’s family.

“You been holding down the fort, Roxy?” Sam asks, and she turns to him, her brown eyes bright and full of love. She nudges his hand with her nose, demanding more pets, and Sam obliges, his smile widening.

Dean stands, brushing off his jeans, and Roxy follows him, her tail still wagging. She’s slower now, but she keeps up, her eyes never leaving him as he walks to the kitchen.

“You spoil her,” Sam says, watching as Dean pulls a treat from the cabinet and tosses it to her. Roxy catches it mid-air, and Dean grins.

“Damn right I do,” Dean says. “She’s earned it.”

And she has. Roxy’s been through it all with them—the hunts, the losses, the late nights and early mornings. She’s been their constant, their comfort, their reminder that some things, no matter how broken, can still be good.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @taurus0queenie33 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @whereiwakewarm ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystems ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @funkenniffler ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @lieutenantchaos ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @lovewolfspirit ⋆ @kayleighwinchester ⋆ @s0urw00lf ⋆ @cursednevermore ⋆ @mrs-pondwater19 ⋆ @img14 ⋆ @onelonelybitch ⋆ @myceliumsunshine ⋆ @americanvenom13 ⋆ @iluvdeanwinchester ⋆ @idk6505 ⋆ @devilslittlehelper ⋆ @cloverleaf20 ⋆ @giggles1026 ⋆ @idontwannabehere7 ⋆ @beakaleak32 ⋆ @bamboobooshark ⋆ @ocelotlist51 ⋆ @lelapine ⋆ @pwin098 ( continues in the comments )

#sam winchester #dean winchester #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #dean winchester x you #sam winchester fluff #dean winchester fluff #sam winchester fic #dean winchester fic #supernatural #.docx #.req

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stargirlygirl · 3 months ago

Text

make it up to you

newlywed!denki kaminari x fem!reader ⋆｡°✩ — nsfw, non-penetrative sex, body worship, thigh riding, gentle femdom + mommy kink, angst, 3.7k words

a/n: if you like newlywed!denki (as much as i do) then you might like this

Your keys jangle as you slip the right one into the lock of your apartment. Twisting your hand to the side, you nudge open the door. Inside, it’s warm from the rays of your sunshine boy and the heater.

But you’re not smiling all giggly as he bounds over to you. You purse your lips together as he throws his arms around you and hugs you tightly, enveloping you in his heat. Your hands press firmly against his clothed chest as you inhale his refreshing scent. You try to push him back, but he groans and tightens his hold on you.

“Denki,” you sigh. You push him back more forcefully this time, and he lets you go. Stepping back, he meets your gaze tentatively as he chews his bottom lip.

He chuckles nervously as he rubs his neck, “Heyyy baby, how are you? How was work?” You raise your brow at him as he curls in on himself under the intensity of your stare. He clears his throat awkwardly, flicking his eyes down to his house slippers.

You scold him, “Don’t give me that, Denki Kaminari. Not after the stunt you pulled this morning. Or should I say last night?” He winces hearing your words (especially his full government name), but you don’t care. You walk past him to your bedroom and set down your bag before throwing open the doors of your wardrobe.

As you take off your blazer, you hear him say, “I was drunk, baby. I didn’t mean it!” You scoff as you throw your blazer on a coat hanger and roughly hang it on the valet rod.

You turn around and yell at him, “You threw up in my car, Denki! And you didn’t even clean it or tell me?!” You’re huffing as you burn daggers into him with your stare. He hovers in the doorway, pouting in the cutest way. The sight ramps up your anger to level 100.

“For fuck’s sake, Denki, that’s the last time I let you use my car for boys’ night. For real, like, you couldn’t throw up before you left? Or at least put the window down and hurl outside my car?” You sigh as you turn back around and fumble with the buttons of your blouse.

You continue reprimanding him, “Seriously, Denki, you’re not some frat boy anymore. I thought that marriage would help you realise that.” You can hear his heart creaking beneath the weight of your argument. All is quiet as you strip off your blouse and bra and throw on a tank top before unzipping your pants. Your husband watches you pull them off your legs with sorrow and regret in his golden eyes.

He mutters, “’M sorry, honey.” He trudges to you slowly, stopping just behind you while you’re tying a bow on your lounge shorts. You slam the doors of your wardrobe shut and start walking to the vanity, but he grabs your wrist and tugs you close to him.

You grumble, “Fuck off.” He shakes his head as he pulls you into another cuddle.

“I’m serious, Denki. Fuck off!” You squirm in his arms, trying to shove him off you, to no avail. You mentally curse that stupid gym membership you got him for his birthday last year.

He murmurs in your ear, “’M really sorry, mommy. I—”

“Don’t you fucking start. Can you just be serious for once?” You grunt. He shakes his head as his palms slide up and down your back.

He mumbles, “I am being serious.” Your sombre boy shifts to rest his forehead against yours, his palms cupping your tense jaw.

He says earnestly, “I’m trying, mama. I am! I’m trying to be a good husband, and I’m sorry that I keep fucking up. I don’t mean to! You know that. I just… I love you. I love you so much and—”

“Denki,” you say, cutting him off. You sigh, “I know you’re trying, but… Denki.” You tilt your head back and gaze at him. He wishes you wouldn’t look at him like that. With all this tightness between your teeth, that furrow in your brow, and hardness in your eyes. He’d do anything to make them go away.

“Please, let me make it up to you. I’ll-I’ll make you feel good, mama! Even better than I usually do, I promise!” He exclaims.

You shake your head and sigh, “Sex doesn’t fix everything, Denki. You’re gonna have to do more than that to account for your poor behaviour.”

He stares at you like you just grew a second head, repeating your words beneath his breath, “Doesn’t fix everything?” He stutters, “Th-then I’ll… I’ll do the dishes. Yea, every day, baby, for the next week.”

You roll your eyes and say, “That’s not good enough.” You wrap your hands around his wrists and pull his warm hands off your jaw. You step around him, pull out the chair to the vanity, and plop down in it. You grit your teeth as you take your hair out of an updo.

Your husband walks over to you and palms the top of your plush chair. He watches you watch yourself in the mirror, braiding your locks.

He says lowly, “I’ll do whatever you want, mommy. Anything to make it up to you. I’ll let you dress me up in a maid costume as I deep clean your car. And I’ll sleep in the spare bedroom for as long as you want. I’ll stay sober; no boys’ night for a while. I-I’ll even wear a condom for you. Anything, baby, just please, give me another chance.” By the end, he’s pouting and staring at you with pleading eyes.

You chuckle as you tie off your braid. “Really? You’ll even wear a condom, huh? Want me to forgive you that badly?” He nods, gnawing at his full lower lip.

He hums and says, “If that’s what you want, mama, then yes, I will.” You suppress your laugh as you nod. You gaze at his reflection in the mirror for a little while, thinking over what kind of punishment seems fit for how much he’s upset you these past few weeks (newlywed life, amirite?).

At last, you say, grinning, “Alright, I’ll take you up on wearing a maid outfit as you clean my car. And I want you to give the alcohol a rest. You can do as you please; see your friends, don’t see them, just stop drinking every week, yea? And I don’t want to see a single one of your filthy ass socks lying around this house, do I make myself clear?”

He nods, “Crystal.” His lean arms snake around your chest as he leans down. He buries his face in your neck, inhaling the sweetness of your perfume. You thread your hand through his silky locks, massaging his scalp as he softly kisses your skin. You hum at the sensation while his arms tighten that little bit more around you.

His lips are so delicate as they trail across your flesh, from your ear lobe to your jaw, and then down your neck to your collarbones. You hiss quietly as he nips at your skin. The sound sends tension rippling throughout his body, and he stops immediately. He kisses the little red spot and mutters an apology against it. You tug at his roots as you tilt your head down. His golden eyes swirl with concern as they stare into yours. You close the distance between you, planting a soft kiss on the tip of his nose.

He shakes his head and whines, “Let me, mama. I need to show you how much I love you.” You chuckle quietly as you nod. He pulls back and stands up before turning your chair around to face him.

Palming the armrests, he leans down again and gently kisses along your cheekbones. Your husband then kisses your eyelids, your jaw, temples, and brows. He kisses down your nose before capturing your lips with his. You sigh into him, allowing yourself to relax beneath his touch.

His hands cup your cheeks once more, the pad of his thumbs stroking your cheeks lightly. You revel in the roughness of his skin against yours, which is much smoother. His hands travel down your neck and squeeze your shoulders while his tongue slides across your bottom lip. You moan, and his tongue slips into your mouth. He explores it slowly, tasting your teeth and the thickness of your cheeks. You grip onto his shirt, drawing him closer to you. His kisses trail from your lips, across your cheek to your hairline.

He whispers into your ear, “Want me to take you to bed, honey?” You hum as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. One of his arms holds your back while the other loops around your knees. He carries you to the plush bed in the centre of the room and sets you down carefully. You sigh as he bunches the fabric of your tank top in his fists. He pulls it off and throws it to the side.

Next, he fingers your waistband and makes the mistake of trying to tug your shorts off without loosening the bow. You laugh at him, stroking the hair back from his eyes as he pouts and undoes the sturdy little knot. He takes off your shorts successfully and caresses your thighs before pulling off your panties, too.

Denki fixes the pillows, so you have more back support when lying beneath him. He starts at your shoulder and kisses down the curves of your muscles. He licks across the bend of your elbow, golden eyes watching your every stuttered intake of breath. He continues down your arm and takes the time to pepper your fingers with kisses, even sucking on your fingertips. You shiver as his tongue laps at your nail bed. You mewl as he works his way back up your arm and moves across to the other.

You’ve never done anything like this before. Even when you and Denki have tender sex, he’s never taken the time to appreciate your body like this. Sure, he knows your folds like the back of his hand, but every inch of your skin? He’s sure about to learn.

You moan as he sucks on your inner arm. He pulls off your reddening flesh, nipping at the spot before kissing up the rest of your arm and beginning his descent to your breasts. He shows them the utmost care. Not a single bite, he kisses them so delicately. He’s obsessed with how soft they are. He sucks on your nipples gently, rolling his tongue over the sensitive peaks before sucking and then licking again.

When he pulls off them, the cold air sets your skin alight, making your hot flesh burn icily. You whine as his tongue slides over your ribcage before peppering soft kisses on the ridges. Your fingers twirl his locks and pull on them as he licks up your tummy from your navel. You coo his name as your back arches. He shushes you, reassuring you that he’s gonna take good care of you before staining your waist and hips with his lips.

Down the contours of your calves and ankles, he showers you with affection. You sigh as he drags his lower lip across your flushed skin, kissing your inner knee and thighs. When his hair tickles your cunt, you take a sharp breath in and steady yourself. Your arousal is gushing from your sopping hole, your clit so swollen and red it’s begging for attention. Sensing your need, he kisses up your folds but never dips into them.

You whine as he stares at you, slowly rolling you onto your stomach. He climbs back up your body, his heat melting into your skin. His skilful fingers undo your braid and brush your hair to the side while his lips work down your shoulder blades and spine.

In the same painstaking way, he memorises every part of you. More often than not, he’s simply caressing you. He’s in awe of your soft, supple flesh. Of the beauty of his wife.

The feeling of his lips against your ass cheeks makes you gasp. They’re so delicate. Denki can’t stop himself from taking a bite of your buns. You cry out as his teeth bite down on the tender flesh. He pulls off, leaving a beautiful mark before nipping along the curve of your ass more gently.

He mumbles into the fat, “So perfect.” You chuckle, feeling an intimate connection between your ass and your husband.

You breathe out, “I thought you liked my tits better, baby.” You cry out as he smacks your ass cheek, revelling in the sight of it rippling and reddening beneath his hand.

He mutters, kissing the spot better, “I like both, mama.” You moan pathetically as he grips your inner thighs and spreads your legs nice n’ wide. He gazes at your cunt for far longer than necessary, licking his lips and trying not to drool at the sight of your dripping pussy.

He whines, “You’re so wet for me, mommy.” You moan as you try to shift your hips back, but his strong grip stops you. His hand slides down the back of your thigh and bends your knee, pushing it forward so that you’re deliciously exposed to him. He shifts so that his chest is against your back, long, wet digits sliding through your folds from your hole to your clit. His other hand is wrapped around your chest as you mewl, back arching most stunningly.

His fingertips circle your clit, making your hips buck. But he keeps changing the pace. You grab his fingers and pull them off your clit as you twist to gaze at him. His golden eyes are wide, and his brows are raised.

He blinks, stunned, before pouting, “W-what’s wrong, mama? Didn’t that feel good?” You hum as you grab his forearm and bring it over your hips, angling his hand between your thighs. You guide his fingers through your folds before rubbing your clit with them, showing him exactly how you want it.

One thing about your husband is that he’s a fast learner concerning intimacy. He craves to please you in every single way possible and has no issue taking commands. At first, you were nervous about telling him how you want things. But now, you live for it.

“Just like that, baby. Right there,” you coo. He groans in your ear, pressing his body against yours harder as he keeps a steady pace on your clit. You can feel his erection through his sweatpants. You moan as you press your hips into his, feeling his bulge right between your ass cheeks.

He grunts, “Mama.” His finger slips into your hole, stretching you out. You moan as you stare at his hand on your pussy, more slick drooling in his palm.

“Take it off, baby. I wanna feel you, too,” you whine. He fingers you slowly, curling his finger so it presses into your gummy walls just right. Your husband mumbles, curses and praises against your ear while feeling the pre-cum oozing from his cock, making a mess in his trunks.

You grind on him, desperate to feel him. He chuckles lowly as he slides his fingers out. They’re coated in your juices, dripping down his wrist as he holds his hand to the light.

“Fuck, mama,” he murmurs, admiring just how wet his wife is for him. He kisses you on the cheek before getting up briefly and stripping off his clothes at the speed of light. Once he’s as bare as you are, he kneels on the bed and hovers at your side. You cup his face with your hand and bring his lips down to yours. You two kiss passionately as his hand slips between your folds once more.

You let go of his cheek, your tongues and shared breaths connecting you two sufficiently. Your hand slides down his body and wraps around his cock. You thumb his slit and spread his pre-cum down his shaft. You jerk him off just the way he likes while he alternates between rubbing your clit and fingering you.

As you draw back from your soul-exchanging kiss, you’re both panting heavily. You rest your foreheads against one another, basking in each other’s presence and pleasure. You moan loudly as he slides a second finger inside you. You whimper his name as his fingertips press hard against that perfect spot. Your grip on his length tightens as you jerk him off faster. He whines in your ear, letting you hear how good you’re making him feel. His sounds make even more slick dribble from your sopping cunt.

Your thighs tense around his hand as he rubs your clit fast, your head spinning from the knot building in your stomach. You nudge his cheek with your nose before kissing him sloppily. His saliva spills down your chin as he slides his hand up your tummy to grab one of your tits. You sigh at the moment of relief.

He murmurs on your lips, “One sec, mama.” You hum, annoyed, as he draws back from you. As he gets off the bed, you grab his forearm. Your brow is creased as you stare at him with big eyes and pouty lips.

You whine, “Where’re you going?”

He chuckles softly, “’M getting the lube, honey.” You chew on your lower lip as his arm slips from your hold. You lie back against the pillows, watching as he grabs the bottle of lube from the cabinet. He climbs back onto the bed, sitting up and resting against the pillows with his legs outstretched. He motions for you to straddle him with his glistening fingers (y’all know what I’m talking about😏). You grab his shoulders for support as you lift your leg and throw it over his, but he grabs your hips and manoeuvres you so that you’re hovering over one of his toned thighs. You gaze at him with confusion in your furrowed brows and tight jaw.

He whispers, “Just trust me, mommy.” You hum as he squirts the clear liquid onto his hands. After rubbing them together, he paints your slicked-up pussy and inner thighs with the lube. Much to your surprise, he then rubs the lube on his thigh, just beneath your frame.

You whine as you watch him, “Baby, what’re you doing?” He shakes his head and throws the bottle to the edge of the bed before grasping your hips and lowering you onto his thigh. You gasp as your skin makes contact. It’s heavenly. And so fucking wet. You mewl his name as he rocks you back and forth on his tense muscles. You stare into his half-lidded golden eyes with your wide ones. You grab his upper arms as you start riding his thigh on your own.

Soon enough, you’re hunched over, your head resting on his shoulder as you alternate between bouncing on and riding his thigh. Your breaths are stuttered, and your skin is coated in sweat. His fingertips dig into the delicate flesh of your hips as your pace becomes sloppier. You tilt your head back, moaning loudly from how hard his muscles are against your soft, puffy clit. You chant his name, quietly revering the man that is your husband as you near your orgasm.

He groans, “Fuck, mommy. You’re riding me so good. Knew you’d like this.” You moan particularly loudly as he starts bouncing you on his thigh even harder than before.

“Look at those tits… and that ass. I swear you have a level 1000 gyatt back th—

“Shut up,” you breathe out as your hand covers his mouth. He licks your palm, causing you to recoil in disgust. He chuckles as you stare at him scoldingly.

He whispers, “Love you, mama.” You hum and kiss him, whimpering against his lips that you love him too; the sound of your slapping skin is the only interruption. When you pull back, he can’t stop staring at you. He’s got hearts in his eyes, obsessed with how sublime you look right now, how you’re all hot and sweaty and whining for your husband.

The fact that he can make you feel this good— that he even has the privilege to do so… He gulps, reminded of just how precious you are to him.

He grunts, “You gonna cum for me, mama?” You nod, biting your swollen lip hard. Little whines escape your throat as your body starts to tremble; your orgasm crashes down on you. You shout as you cum, moaning and swearing loud enough to be heard from down the hall of your apartment complex. His name is on your lips like a prayer as you shake, hot release gushing from your syrup folds onto his equally syrupy thigh. He keeps bouncing you until you’re begging him to stop; your clit is far too sensitive now.

You slump against him, holding him lazily while he rubs your back soothingly. Denki groans, feeling your cum splattered across his skin. Your chest rises and falls with his as you pant, trying to calm down from your high. Minutes pass as he reassures you how well you did. You tilt your head back and place a sleepy kiss on his jaw.

You murmur against the bone, “That felt so good, baby. So, so good.” He hums, the vibration in his throat helping you relax. You sigh as you rest your head on his shoulder.

He chuckles, “You really liked that, huh?” You nod as you gently kiss his neck. He mutters as he pats your back, “Why don’t we take a little break, honey? D’you want some water?” You pull back and stare at him in disbelief.

You mumble, “The fuck you mean ‘little break’? We’re not done yet?” He shakes his head, laughing at how adorable you look when you’re mad.

“Just getting started,” he says, grinning. He leans down and kisses your salty forehead before murmuring against it, “’M gonna make you cum so many times tonight, baby, you’ll still be feeling my tongue all over your pussy tomorrow.”

And oh, does he deliver on that promise…

#★’s works #mha x reader #x female reader #established relationship #denki x reader #denki kaminari smut #denki kaminari

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