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r3starttt · 27 days ago

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GHOSTFACE ELLIE

PAIRING: Ellie x reader

SUMMARY: Quiet girl turns out to be a psycho <3

CW: phone sex. guided masturbation. fingering. knife play.

AN: as always @clairoscharm thanks for reading my stuff and supporting my delusional ass AND total creds to this for the dialogue

TAGLIST | KINKTOBER: @s4pphic-myth @levilvrr @girlkisser168 @bilsvlt @tlouloser @marsworlddd @softlikesilk-chiffon @grey-jedi12 @slut4ellienabby @roos4lm4 @elliezlils11utt @1-800-fantasy @ellieswifee232 @rob1nbuckl3ys @abbys-muscles | ELLIE'S TAGLIST: @ilovetaylorrr @imdrowningindispair @rkivedpages @elliesmistress @aouiaa @chlobearsworld @crispers @bruhhtsukjf @twopeoplee

Lying in bed, the glow of your phone the only light in the room, you scroll mindlessly, your limbs heavy with the dull ache of hours spent in the same position. A pillow is wedged between your legs, more out of habit than comfort, and the phone in your hand holds you captive in an endless loop. It’s been five hours, maybe more.

Your attention flits from one post to another until, once again, you land on her. That girl. The one you’ve been following for months now. She’s pretty, but not in an obvious way. She wears glasses, those chunky ones that somehow make her even more intriguing, and her wardrobe is an exercise in minimalism: basic tees, old Converse, jeans that have seen better days. Yet, it suits her. She doesn’t need anything more.

She’s intelligent, too. You’ve seen it in the rare moments she speaks up in class, offering insight that stands in stark contrast to the usual drivel from the self-assured brunette at the front of the room, whose every comment is met with the weary nod of a teacher who’s simply given up.

But not her. She’s different. She only speaks when she has something worth saying.

You’ve never really spoken to the girl you’re watching now, the quiet one, the one with the pins on her backpack that match all your obsessions. But you’ve heard her, overheard her really—laughing with her small group of friends, a sound that’s more music than noise. And that laugh, paired with her intelligent, effortless aura, keeps you coming back to her profile. You scroll through her feed again, trying to piece together more of who she is. But it’s hopeless, really.

You know better than to hope.

You’ve overheard her laughing with her friends, and once—just once—you caught a snippet of conversation that seemed to be about someone like you. They joked about how a person like you would be the perfect way for her to "get out of her comfort zone," before she rolled her eyes and tossed a gummy at her friend, who ate it off the floor with a grin. The image of that moment clings to you, taunting. Maybe if you were the kind of person who ate floor gummies, maybe if you filled your pink backpack with pins and trinkets like hers, she’d notice you. Maybe then you wouldn’t seem so insignificant.

But it’s a foolish thought, really. All of it becomes irrelevant when you see her newest post, a fleeting story—her hair, damp and messy, clinging to her face, and an oversized red shirt, soaked through in the same vibrant hue. The image is imperfect but mesmerizing. Did she mean to post it? Probably not, because just as you finish taking a screenshot, Instagram glitches, and the story vanishes, no longer available to view.

"Fuck," you mutter under your breath, a single word of frustration, though it’s nothing compared to the soft whimpers and low murmurs that follow as you shove your hand between your legs. That same position you were in a few minutes ago now doing the opposite, relaxing your stiffened body into something comfortable and private. Something that gets interrupted by your phone vibrating in a disturbing tone.

Your eyes open, your mouth closes and the finger teasing your clit quickly abandons its place to rest over your stomach. The sudden sound taking your breath with the vibrations. The pad of your thumb slid over the screen, hanging the call without even glancing to look at the number. Whoever it was should be able to use their fucking fingers and type whatever message they needed you to know at ten pm on a Friday.

The agitation slowly faded into that anxious palpitation in your heart, your body catching your needs again as the wet under your panties grew again. You took your time, sliding your shirt over your head, the small shorts being tossed somewhere in the floor and your panties and bra resting at the edge of the nightstand next to you beside your phone.

She was in your mind- creepy, but it'll be enough for your horny brain to work into making you cum. And truly it was working amazing, circling at your clit, caressing your own skin in hopes to trick yourself it was someone else. Your thighs clenching whenever you were too harsh on yourself. Nipples hard between the pads of your fingers. Your mouth opening the slightest to catch your breath at the somehow pretty sound of your wet.

But the vibrations appeared again. A disturbing sound that made you anxious.

With a groan you turned yourself on the side, managing to grab at the phone with wet still on your hands. Who cared anyway.

The phone buzzed in your hand, the screen flashing with an unknown number. You hesitated for a second, half-expecting it to be a wrong number or maybe some random perv dialing at the worst possible time. Or maybe it was just some grumpy old person calling the wrong number altogether—some mundane accident that you could dismiss with a quick tap.

But then, through the crackling line, your name came through, distorted and warped, like someone speaking through an old, broken radio. Your brow furrowed, confusion setting in immediately.

"Who’s this?" you asked, your voice sharper than you intended. Had you been too careless? Maybe given your number to someone you didn’t remember in class?

"Long time, huh? Didn’t think you’d answer," the voice replied, dripping with mockery. The eerie, disembodied tone was layered with heavy breathing, the kind that made your skin crawl.

You sat up straighter, fingers gripping the phone tighter. Your confusion only deepened, your eyebrows knitting together in suspicion. "Who is this?" you repeated, but instead of an answer, the voice laughed, a low, unsettling sound that rattled your nerves.

"Don’t be so impatient," they teased.

A heavy silence followed, stretching on far too long. Your heart started to race as the seconds ticked by, tension building until you almost hung up. Just as your thumb hovered over the screen, ready to end the call, the voice cut back in, calm and unnervingly intimate.

"I think you left the door open."

Your eyes immediately shot to your bedroom door, closed just like you’d left it. But something about the way they said it made you second-guess yourself. You suddenly wanted to throw the blankets off, get dressed, and rush downstairs to check every door, every window. You always locked up before bed—double-checking, even—but now that doubt gnawed at the edges of your mind.

"You know," the voice continued, smooth and casual, "you shouldn’t leave it unlocked. Makes it too easy for someone…"

Your pulse hammered in your ears, and a cold chill settled deep in your stomach. Every word felt like a creeping shadow, something lurking just out of view. You tried to force yourself to move, to shake off the growing panic, but their next words stopped you cold.

"I wouldn’t do that," they said, a twisted hint of amusement in their tone. "I’ve been watching you."

A wave of nausea rolled over you as the realization hit. This wasn’t a prank. This wasn’t some random caller. Whoever they were, they knew too much—things they shouldn’t know.

Your mind raced, heart pounding as you scanned the room, trying to process what was happening. "Who the hell are you?" you managed to stammer out, your voice shaking, but they ignored the question entirely, continuing as if the conversation was on their terms.

"How long do you think you have left?"

The playful edge was gone now, replaced with something colder, more deliberate. The words cut through the air like knives, sharp and precise. Whoever this was, they weren’t guessing—they knew something you didn’t, and it left a sick feeling crawling up your spine.

"I don’t—" you began, your voice faltering under the weight of the moment, but the distorted voice on the other end silenced you. "Go lay down again," they whispered, the words almost affectionate, but twisted in a way that sent every nerve in your body on high alert. "Come on, if you're good enough maybe I'll have pity. You're good at causing that." They definitely knew you.

You hesitated but obeyed their every command. Each step against the cold floor of your room sending a shiver up your warmth body, a thin layer of sweat growing on your forehead at the silence between the line. "There we go." He mocked you.

"See? wasn't so hard to obbey." You heard their slow, heavy breathing, each breath dragging out in an unsettling, deliberate rhythm. It was shallow, almost raspy, like they were too close to the phone. "Come on, lay down." His tone was quieter, almost a mumble. You did as they ordered, adjusting yourself in almost the same comfortable position you were in, before this creepy guy called to entertain himself tonight.

"You're shy now?" he chuckled. Your body reacted before you could even process, trying to make this have any sense. Your eyes wandered all over the dark in your room, there was absolutely nothing. Not a window half open or the courtains allowing much inside view, the door was closed too. "Spread your legs, yeah... just like that. Now, put your hands over your thighs- no, lower... yeah, closer." His every command was followed. The tip of your fingers caressed the inside of your thighs, sliding your hand up and down, over your knee and then down until you got too close to your pussy, the wet growing shamelessly fast. He didn't really put any more rules, his breathing increasing withint every touch you applied over your body. growing into it eventually.

"Good, good girl"

Your hands stopped in the inside of your thighs, gripping at your own flesh at the mix of fear, shame- mostly wanting her to just come inside and finish the main plan she'd had on her brain when you answered her call. "Don't stop now, you were doing so good..." Her voice had a fake pity on it, mocking you. "Move them over your stomach, come on."

But you didn't.

"I know you wanted this." Ellie whispered, it was the closes her tone got to that robotic distortion you've heard before. "You were whining my name."

Your breathing was unsteady, your stomach tightening in everything but pleasure.

"Let me hear you again."

Your hand slid between your legs, hesitant on the show you were about to give her. She must be able to see, right? somehow.

You rubbed small circles on your throbbing clit, scissoring your folds to make it last longer. "Fuck- good girl.... just like that." Your lips parted open, allowing the front teeth to show up a little. Whines coming in the warmth of your breath before her name started to slip in between. You were ridiculously wet. each touch on your pussy loud and explicit. Profanity elicting out of you withing every touch over you nipples, down your stomach and against your pussy. She didn't have to ask, you'd do anything for her, anytime.

"Fucking pretty girl... hear that. So wet for me." Her voice was almost a whimper. there was no shame and fuck if she was here. actually seeing it in front of her eyes. She'd be on her knees for you, offering to help, to touch, to clean. "Yeah... fuck- please-" her breath was loud, a cruel trick to make yourself think she was close.

"Wanna cum?" you nodded as if she could see. she had to see. "Stop- stop." the tone was firm and you had nothing to do but whine at it, rubbing your clit one last time. You did leave your hand there, just needed any sorth of pressure between your wet pussy.

The call ended. And you desperately abandoned your body to pick up the phone and call again. The tone would ring and ring until it didn't, was it a joke?

The back of your head crashed against the messy pillow behind you, catching your breath for the millionth time this hour. There was a mess consuming you. The fear and uncomfortable of being seen by her, as creepy as it could be, it made you wet. She was a craving you would kill to suffice anytime and you've got her so close. Even if she was cruel, if this was a joke to laugh at you, you'd still do it again.

Your eyes drifted to the end of the bed, glancing at your naked body before crawling to pick up your clothes. You made it to the mere edge of the mattress, stretching to pick at your shirt and maybe at your shorts too.

The door cracked slightly, letting in some light from the hallway. But no one came in, there was no sound, no step, no loud greeting. "Dressing already?" your attention turned to meet at the strange mask covered person- her. The black robe adorning her body, way too loose. Her boots were so loud against the floor, almost as loud as the sound form the door when she slapped it closed. You were drooling.

"Eager?" Her knees folded slightly, getting to your height. You heard the shine of her blade, watching it just a few seconds later beneath your chin. "Put that back." Her head tilted to the side, you could barely see her through the dark circles covering her eyes. It took you a while until you put the shirt back to where it was, tossed somewhere you'd think about later.

The cold of the blade dig the slightest into your neck as you turned back around. Her other hand was quick to get rid of the mask, allowing you to have the prettiest sight. There was no actual reaction but a whimper that had to brush through your lips as you sensed her lips over yours. It was sloppy and gross and desperate, all while the mere tip of the knife cut between your breasts, digging hard enough to let the blood drip down your stomach, stopping the second your back hit your matress. It eventually stained the pretty blankets beneath.

She slid under your neck, nibbling and sucking at the skin while her knife rested flat against the fat of your thighs. Her legs crawled to trap you in between, leaving enough space for your legs to spread a little, enough to fit her hand in your pussy, really. Which didn't take long, craving to hear your voice this close, right next to her ear again. "Fuck baby, so fucking wet for me?" you nodded, already a disturbing mess at the feeling of her hand cupping at your cunt, slapping at it.

Her digits got trapped the second she landed on your clit, not paying too much attention as she could only care about tasting you, licking at your skin and sucking at the trail of blood under your breasts. Leaving her name stained on your tender withint every kiss and sucking and touch.

"Lemme hear you, come on." She slid her digits with ease, thrusting in and out of your wet pussy. You clenched at her, cupping the back of her neck- up her hair, and forcing her to kiss you, needing to savor her for once. She was whining, as wet as you beneath that tough costume.

"Fuck- just like that baby? yeah? gonna cum for me..." There was a sloppy kiss between each word. Quiet whines and moans pressed against your skin to overlap the wet of her thrusts on your pussy. "Ellie- Fuck- els...." she chuckled at your words. Her quiet ego being fed at the sight of you, so fucked for her. "My good girl, mhm?" her weight felt too heavy, and her kissed too overwhelming. But she was fucking you good, way better than what you've imagined.

The knot on your stomach grew bigger with every praise, every squeal of her fingers against your pussy, every moan she'd let out and the vibration you'll get on your skin.

But the knife cut deeper this time, just as you'd open your mouth to have the orgasm you've been denied for so long. You saw her eyes, her flushed cheeks and those freckles you'd admired from afar in hopes to someday see them this close.

The warmth on your stomach now growing- drenching on the sides of your body. But fuck it was a good sight to see, what she'd been craving for a while now. Your pretty whine and her hand drenched in your wet not transformed into pure horror and pain.

"Good girl, yeah baby. I know" your hands wandered anywhere, not even thinking on defending but holding her, pressing her closer to you. Have her one last time. "I know."

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whetstonefires · 2 years ago

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One thing I don't think I've ever seen talked about is how post-apocalypse ideation is largely about homelessness.

Homelessness looms large in the American consciousness. Like, not that it's irrelevant elsewhere, but it's got a particular cultural place in the US that's reflected in Hollywood, and therefore relevant because what makes it into film and TV sets the terms of so many conversations.

We don't acknowledge it if we can help it, but I think most people know they're never more than a few very bad months from winding up there.

Even people who are sure it only happens to people who deserve it, who fuck up and put one foot in the morass of their own foolish volition. Even they know the quicksand is there, waiting to be walked into, and that the odds are stacked against ever climbing out on your own once you have. And that they, too, are capable of fucking up. Of trusting the wrong person. Of getting cancer incorrectly.

And those of us who know damn well we can't be sure we're safe even if we do everything right, we know it even better.

And in that sense it doesn't matter what the world would realistically look like after X kind of apocalypse, what people would do, how society would adapt. Because the anxiety that's being processed is about the reality that's in existence now.

About what if my world ends. And I lose access to the fruits of developed society, to clean clothes and new glasses and running water, to a safe place to sleep where I don't expect to be killed or robbed, or driven out by men with guns and dogs. To my home and work and family and everything I usually use to tell me who I am.

What if every man's hand is against me, and every meal is a small victory, and there's only my own dwindling strength between me and the long night?

Will I make it? Will I hold up under the strain? Will I retain my dignity? Will I be lucky? Will I be able to protect the people I love, in that world, the world where no one is protecting us anymore?

Is there a way to continue to live as a human person, when you're denied the prerogatives of one, and don't know if you'll ever get them back?

Putting this anxiety into the context of a massive apocalypse divorces this scenario from the burden of shame tied up in the idea of winding up in that sort of situation in the normal course of events, by having society vanish rather than expel you, personally, as a washout, and continue on around you.

It also allows you to rule out a priori the question of what resources might be offered but can't in an anticipatory context be counted on; shelters and programs and housed friends and family who may or may not help. And narrow the narrative to only the question of what you can survive, and often a fairy tale about surviving all of it and starting over.

Rehearsing for a loss in a mythologized format is a very normal anxiety processing behavior, and I think a lot of apocalypse scenario building is attached to the buried dread of that personal apocalypse. But I haven't seen that one make the list.

#hoc est meum #homelessness #apocalypse #post-apocalypse fiction

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endless-ineffabilities · 3 months ago

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chemical override (8)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n : I had to cut some scenes, explained in the notes below, to be saved for a bonus chap or drabble. Also, I altered the outline, and this story isn't ending with 9 as originally intended. Happy Chem Ov release day! Enjoy 🖤

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The reader is left confused by Ewan's online stunt. If he really is content with keeping things casual, then why is he acting otherwise? Tensions reach their peak and Ewan is forced to face the consequences of the arrangement.

Day or night, Ewan will answer your call.

Even when you seem overly irate at him, greeting him with, “Ewan, what the fuck was that picture?”

He exhales haughtily, your tone almost bringing him some twisted sense of pleasure. Like a ‘this is what you get’ type of reaction. Was he 7 or 27? He’s been labeled sensitive before, but right now, he can’t muster the energy to care.

“Hello to you too, darling,” he says, smoke billowing out of his lips as he lounges on his apartment balcony in London. He had convinced himself that his worries about you and Matt vanished the moment he reaffirmed you as his to the world. In this day and age, in your profession, that can easily be accomplished by something called a hard launch. The first image he posted was supposed to do just that, but the internet has a fickle memory.

Several months had passed with nothing concrete circulating about you and Ewan, leading fans to readily accept the possibility that you were now dating Matt, prompted by the recent Deuxmoi feature. Granted, Ewan was spotted sneaking out of your building once, but what does that really prove?

Unfortunately, some others spun the story beyond recognition, protected by the anonymity afforded by their black mirrors. Aided with nothing but conjecture, they took it upon themselves to accuse you of infidelity.

All in all, it had been an eventful 24 hours. His impulsive act of possessiveness quickly turned into a mutable gossip headline.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” you reply immediately. “Why would you post that? I didn’t even know you took it in the first place.”

“I was doing you a favour. Don’t you see? People are under the impression that we’re still together.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Darling, you know it matters. It’s not a good look that you were spotted with someone else, you know what people are like,” he said.

“Oh, thank you so much for saving me from public ridicule, Ewan,” you say, tone dripping with sarcasm. “Since when do you care about what people say? You stay offline for this exact reason.”

“I know some mean things were being said about you.”

“I don’t care about any of that,” you insist, but you no longer sound sure.

“I’m doing you a favour,” he says. “If that picture remains, then it’s basically a ‘fuck you’ to all the people who accuse you cheating on me.”

“How can I cheat on you, Ewan? We’re not together.”

He bristles at that statement, the truth that sits unpleasant in the back of his mind. It hurts that you’re right. “You know what I mean,” he musters.

He hears nothing for a while, save for some shuffling in the background. Are you screaming your frustrations into your pillow? Is your fist raised at the skies, cursing his name? Tell him you hate him, and he will crumble. The three words will come out of him unrestrained. I love you, followed by, please don’t leave me.

But they already have spilled out of him, lost among his tearful pleas in the car. That night in September, he crumbled and he lost you anyway. What good would it do now? What difference would it make?

You finally speak, and he hears the frustration in your voice, even as it softens, “You’re so fucking infuriating.”

He can’t help but chuckle, the sound low and easy, “Hey, baby, you’re the one who called me.”

But your next words wipe the smile right off his face. “Ewan… this isn’t going to be the last of it. Sooner or later, we’ll have to make it known that we’re not as in love as everyone thinks.”

He frowns, not accepting that you’re pressing on the topic. “Why?”

“Your memory must be so twisted, Ewan,” you sigh, and he can picture you shaking your head, “Don’t you have that ironclad PR arrangement for your new film?”

His chest tightens. Leave it to you to be the bearer of harsh truths. “That… That might not happen.”

“Might not? Oh, for fuck’s sake, you didn’t quit, did you?”

“No, I didn’t quit,” he answers quickly, trying to keep his voice steady. “But can we not talk about the film? It’s not what matters right now.”

“But it does, Ewan,” you insist, the concern in your voice gnawing at him, “you’ve got this important thing, and I… what if I want out? What if I want something real?”

“Something… real.” It's like a punch to his gut, nightmare fuel, and he scrambles for a response. “Like what?”

“I don’t know… I just – ”

“This isn’t real enough for you?” There is no hiding the vulnerability in his voice now. It wouldn’t even work if he tried. “I… I’m not…”

“Ewan.”

You refuse to answer his question, and he thinks it’s for the best. He responds with his usual, “Darling.”

“What are you going to do about that picture?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it,” he finally decides.

“What?”

“I’ll get rid of it.”

“Okay. Good.” He can hear the relief in your voice, but he’s not done yet.

“But you can’t get rid of us,” he says firmly, leaving no room for negotiation. “I won’t let you.”

You groan, “Ewan… ”

His reply is curt, daring you to disagree, “Darling.”

He’s met with a long and uncomfortable silence, the air thick with everything left unsaid. He needs to break it. He needs a diversion. “Are you home?” he asks.

“Why?”

Even over the line, he can feel you pulling away, like your tether to him is loosening. He can’t let that happen again. “Are you still angry with me?”

“Why?”

“Why don’t I come over and we can hash it out?” His voice drops into that rhythm, the one he knows you couldn’t resist.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Maybe so,” he admits, a small smile playing on his lips, “but I want you.”

He waits with bated breath, ready to run out the door at your word.

“I can’t believe you, Mitchell,” you sigh, your amusement at him bleeding through. It’s all he needs.

“See you soon, darling.”

All throughout the night, he doesn’t let you go. The moment he steps through your door, the tension from the call dissolves into something more primal, something neither of you can resist. Every touch feels like a desperate attempt to hold onto a love that might slip away, even if just for a moment.

Deep down, he knows, just as you do, that this can’t last. But as the night stretches on and he holds you close, he pushes that thought away, burying it in the recesses of his mind.

This is enough, even for now.

And so the song remains the same.

Clad in full costume, you tread the halls of the set, your posture noticeably straighter. Alyna’s attire has a way of transforming you, making each step purposeful, each glance sharp. The familiar weight of the prop weapons at your side makes you feel like a true fighter.

The Watford studio is buzzing with energy as the Entertainment Weekly photoshoot unfolds, the set alive with activity. It is one of the actual sets used for the show, so you feel right at home - Alyna Rivers in her natural habitat.

You weave through the crowd, careful to avoid Ewan, whose presence you can never shake off. You’ve never actually been together, in a big group setting such as this, since the beginning of the arrangement. The cast definitely knows something is going on, especially after Ewan’s last daring post on Instagram. Ewan hadn’t deleted the post – he simply deactivated his profile instead. You noticed it the next day when you tried to check, only to find his account gone.

The realisation left you conflicted. On one hand, it meant the picture wasn’t out there anymore. But on the other, it felt like a temporary fix, a way of avoiding the real issue rather than confronting it head-on. It was a pause, not an ending. The post still existed technically, suspended in some middle realm.

Since the cast is not privy to the sordid details of your arrangement, you think it best to keep interactions with him at a minimum. It had been constantly nagging at you, the thought of being with him but not really. Are you even allowed to hold his hand in front of your friends? Won’t that be crossing the line, breaking the rules that he set when he promised that, you won’t be his and he won’t be yours?

Alyna would never, not in a hundred years, allow herself to be put in this position. Especially not by Aemond Targaryen, of all people.

Just as you start to relax, Matt materialises by your side, a wide grin plastered on his face.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the fiercest bastard in the realm,” Matt says, looking every bit as Daemon with his Targaryen blacks and silver-blonde wig, giving you an exaggerated once-over. “Looking for your next conquest?”

“Careful, Matthew,” you shoot back, smirking. “Alyna’s got a list, and you’re edging pretty close to the top.”

“Good to know I’m on your mind, and as a top priority, nonetheless,” he teases, nudging you playfully. “But let’s be real, you’d miss me too much.”

You laugh, the sound echoing off the stone walls. “Miss your terrible jokes, maybe.”

“You love my humour,” he insists. “I’m just saying, when you get tired of shooting arrows and swinging swords, let me know. I would like to take you out into the real world.”

You raise an eyebrow, cheeks heating up. He caught you off guard, so thank the gods for the sheer boldness that Alyna wears like skin, rubbing off on you as you stand in her shoes. “Is Daemon asking Alyna on a date, Smithy?”

“Depends,” he quips, a sly grin on his face. “Is it working?”

Before you can respond, Tom saunters over, clearly not one to miss out on the fun. “What’s this I hear? Matt finally working up the nerve to ask his on-screen sidekick out? Either I’m going mad or my five espresso shots are working.”

“Watch it, you,” you warn him playfully, unable to suppress a grin. “Alyna’s still got some arrows left. And I’m not his sidekick.”

Tom smirks. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re all talk.”

“Want to test that theory?” you challenge, raising an imaginary bow. Matt lets out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest as if struck.

“See? Deadly,” Matt says, winking at you. “So, what do you say? Coffee, next week? Somewhere far from dragons and politicking?”

You pretend to consider it, tapping your chin. “You know, that doesn’t sound half bad. As long as you promise not to reenact your last attempt at flirting.”

“Ouch,” Matt laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll do my best.”

As the photographer calls for everyone to take their places, you catch a glimpse of Ewan watching from a distance, his jaw clenched. The amusement in Matt’s eyes tells you he’s noticed too.

“You’re playing with fire, you know,” you whisper to Matt as you walk toward the set.

He grins, lowering his voice. “I wasn’t called the Rogue Prince for no reason. Besides, I am the blood of the dragon.”

“Sure you are,” you reply, but you are unable to ignore the thrill of Ewan’s intense focus.

The set buzzes with activity, cast members instructed to maintain their character’s demeanour for the photographs. The Greens go first, with their designated groupings, with Ewan and Gayle sharing a close-up shot. From where you stand behind the cameras, you can feel Ewan’s gaze locked on you, his presence heavy and distracting. After a while, you feel the need to step away, walking further to the side.

He remains silent, his focus clearly split between you and Matt, who keeps up a steady stream of clever remarks that make you laugh. Each one seems to darken Ewan’s mood further. The tension becomes so palpable that the director finally calls out, “Ewan, can we get your attention over here, please? You’re off your mark.”

Liv and Phia, still awaiting their cues, scurry over to where you stand. Liv leans in with a knowing smirk on her face, whispering in your ear. “Trouble in paradise?” Of course they’ve noticed Ewan’s odd behaviour.

“More like purgatory,” Phia quips, scrunching her nose.

“Something like that,” you murmur, eyes flicking over to Ewan, who’s now talking with Gayle and the director, looking over the shots taken, though his attention doesn’t stray far from you.

“Well, if you need an escape route, just say the word,” Liv offers, her voice full of concern.

“Do you want me to stare back at Ewan?” Matt cheekily offers, making you punch him on the shoulder. He only laughs openly, the sound free and uninhibited and just Matt.

“Thanks, guys,” you say, grateful for their friendship. But you know there’s no easy way out of this tangled mess. Not with the way Ewan is watching you and Matt like he’s one step away from bringing The Battle Above The Gods Eye to fruition.

Not long after, it’s time for the Blacks to step onto the set. As you move into position, you can feel Ewan’s gaze practically searing into your back. You fight the urge to laugh. Or grimace. Or shoot him a questioning look. The idea of Ewan in his full Aemond costume brooding over you is something indeed. The fangirl in you would have been sent reeling, if only he wasn’t so fucking infuriating.

You spot Liv, Tom, and Phia swooping in like a rescue squad with a mission to derail Ewan’s brooding. Phia, ever the animated theater kid, practically throws herself in front of Ewan, waving her hands like she’s recounting the world’s most thrilling tale.

“Ewan, did you catch that last shot of Helaena? Absolute perfection,” she says, grinning.

Tom saunters up, “Care to explain why you are standing here lurking like some stalker? You’re scaring the crew, mate.”

Phia gently nudges Ewan away from your line of sight. “Come on, Ewan. Let’s go for a smoke, it’s stuffy in here.”

Ewan’s clearly torn, but he’s powerless against his friends’ instigation. You bite back a laugh as you see him getting pulled in every direction. Your makeshift rescue team really needs to get their act together, but you love them anyway. The camera snaps away, and you focus on your poses. Knowing that Phia and the gang are running interference, you’re free to enjoy the moment and be Alyna as the photoshoot demands. You can save the enjoyment from watching him squirm later.

The photoshoot wraps up in the evening and everyone begins to gather their things, preparing to leave. Cast members chat, stretch, and discuss plans for the week.

“So, coffee next week?” Matt asks again, this time with a bit more seriousness.

“Yeah,” you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’ll see what I have scheduled then I’ll give you a call.”

“Great. I’ll even let you pick the place. Well, I’ll be off, love, I’m meeting my sister.” he says. Then, as if sensing something, he leans in closer. “But I’d better give you something to remember me by.”

Before you can react, Matt pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you warmly. The embrace lingers just a moment longer than necessary, and as he pulls back, he plants a soft, teasing kiss on your cheek. You catch the mischievous glint in his eyes. What is he up to?

As Matt releases you and heads out of the studio, you spot Ewan coming toward you, his presence all too familiar. He doesn’t say anything at first, and just stands there, his silence more charged than anything he could have spoken. His expression is stoic, but with the way his lips are pursed and his nostrils are flared, you would say that he’s bothered. He’s jealous.

“You seemed to be having fun,” he finally says, his tone casual, though the tension is unmistakable.

“Mmm, maybe I was,” you reply, meeting his gaze head-on. “Is there a problem?”

Ewan’s eyes narrow slightly, but he shakes his head. “Not at all. Just… nevermind. I’m sure you know, we’ve been booked for a magazine feature coming up in a few days.”

You freeze. “Yeah, I heard. What about it?”

“I’m just making sure that you’re okay with it, darling.”

“It’s work, Ewan,” you reply tersely. “We’ll deal with it.”

The tension breaks when Fabien swoops in, his flawless smile in place. “So, you’re stealing Matt away from me now?” he teases, and there’s an edge to his question. He’s still on the fence about you and Ewan, as he feels protective of his friend. But he’s aware that there’s no simple right or wrong here. You both hurt each other; that much is clear.

“Maybe,” you quip back, shrugging with feigned innocence. “He seems to like my company.”

Fabien laughs, though there’s a hint of something serious beneath it. “I’ll allow it – this time. But don’t forget, I’ve got dibs on him for the next round of drinks.”

As Fabien’s laughter fades, Ewan’s voice cuts through the lightheartedness. “I don’t think she needs your protection, Fabien.”

You can’t help but laugh at that, rolling your eyes. “I don’t need looking after, Ewan.”

“Maybe not,” he concedes, his voice dropping to something darker. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll stop.”

There’s a challenge in his words, one that sends a thrill of anticipation through you, even as you know it’s a dangerous game you’re all playing. The fire between you smoulders, waiting for the next spark to ignite it. Is Matt that spark? No, you realise, both your actions will be enough to bring everything crashing down.

For now, you step away, leaving Ewan to stew in his misguided jealousy.

“See you around, Fabs,” you wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a hug goodbye. “I’ll see you for our shoot, yeah?” you tell Ewan, making it clear that you’re not up for another dalliance in between.

He gets the hint, nodding tersely. But he doesn’t just let you go, not without making his mark, the thing he ached so badly to do in front of Matt, but couldn’t.

He briefly casts a glance around the room to make sure no one else is hovering, then presses a soft against your lips, leaving you no time to protest.

You’re exhausted. You’re frustrated. You shouldn’t give in to this, but you do. He feels right; he feels like home.

If home is a Motel 6 along the highway, ready to kick you out at a moment’s notice. Isn’t that just a knife in the gut?

You pull away after a second, and he smiles, his thumb lightly grazing your cheek.

Fabien shakes his head, a feeling of warmth rising within him at the sight of his two friends who clearly belong together. If only they would get their heads out of their asses.

You seem to remember his presence, pushing away from Ewan’s hold.

Fabien can only roll his eyes.

Only two days later, and you’re back to work once more. The British Vogue photoshoot has its focus on high fashion, set against the backdrop of an American West-inspired ranch. It doesn’t dwell on you and Ewan as celebrity figures, which is why you agreed to the shoot in the first place.

Walking onto set, you’re struck with awe at the dramatic tableau of worn wooden fences, hay bales, and lasso props. But your amazement reaches its absolute peak when Ewan emerges, in full cowboy attire.

Fuck. You bite your lip, and you can almost hear your heart pounding. Unbeknownst to you, the crew notices your flustered state, but they think it’s just you admiring your boyfriend as expected.

He meets your eyes from across the room, then saunters over to you, that characteristic smirk set on his lips. Your breath catches in your throat, when he tips his hat and greets, “Howdy, darling.”

“Why, hello, good sir,” you try to match his tone, giving a playful curtsy.

“Ready to give them a show?” he asks, and you’re sure if he’s referring to the photoshoot or the possibility that the two of you might have to play at being a couple as these people expect. You opt to believe the former.

As the shoot progresses, the tension between you and Ewan becomes almost unbearable. You’re clad in an elaborate, haute couture cowgirl outfit. A sculptural corset made of brown leather, with a tailored vest on top. A floor-length skirt with a high slit reaching your upper thigh, dyed to a rich gradient of burnt sienna. Knee-high heeled boots. A leather choker with a central silver pendant rests on your neck, dangling provocatively.

For the first set of shots, both of you casually lean against the fence. Ewan poses beside you, watching you with an intensity that is both electrifying and maddening. His gaze is hungry, almost predatory, and you almost forget about the elaborate set around you. Thankfully, each blinding flash of the camera pulls you back into the real world. Keeping you from riding a cowboy right down on the hay bales. How does the saying go? Save a horse…

The photographer snaps you out of it, as he shouts a direction for you to pose solo with a lasso draped over your shoulder. Ewan steps out of the frame, leaning against a wooden post, his eyes locked on you as if he’s trying to memorise every detail of this look.

“Alright, let’s try a more dramatic pose,” the photographer instructs. “Maybe something with a bit more attitude.”

You adjust your stance, twisting slightly to emphasise the curve of your waist. As you do, you momentarily meet Ewan’s gaze. His eyes are dark with something like desire, and his lips are set in a grim line.

“I can’t even articulate what you’re doing to me, darling,” Ewan murmurs in your ear, when the photographer calls for a 5-minute break. Set assistants run onto the scene, adding and rearranging props for the next round of shots.

You smirk, “Speak for yourself, Mitchell.”

“Mmm,” he hums, satisfied.

The next shot calls for Ewan to stand behind you, his arms wrapped around your figure, the position as intimate as can be. Each click of the camera seems to heighten the tension.

His breath is warm against your neck, the sheer proximity electrifying, causing your entire body to heat up underneath the layers of leather and cotton. His heartbeat matches yours, quick and erratic. His voice is a mere whisper, barely audible over the camera clicks. “You’re making this incredibly difficult, you know.”

You tilt your head slightly, “Difficult how, exactly?”

“Keeping my hands off you is the hardest part of my day,” he replies, his voice husky with restrained desire. “It’s like you’re daring me to break every rule we’ve set.”

That you’ve set, you want to correct him, but you bite your tongue. A bitter chuckle escapes you, the sound a mix of frustration and amusement. “So what if I am,” you tease, bending back slightly into his embrace, feeling his body heat against yours. He welcomes your closeness, leaning into you.

For the next few minutes, it’s a game of seduction and denial, every movement aimed at tormenting the other. The crew, blissfully unaware of the full extent of the tension, is generally pleased about the atmosphere of the shoot. In their minds, you and Ewan are simply leaning into your real-life chemistry and romance.

Nothing out of the ordinary. Little do they know.

In the brightly lit break room, the hum of distant chatter from the set fills the silence between you and Ewan. He’s seated across from you, his gaze unyielding as you check your phone.

His voice breaks the quiet, his tone deceptively casual but laced with curiosity. “Doing anything tomorrow?”

You look up, meeting his eyes, before tentatively answering. “Actually, yes.”

His brows lift, his curiosity piqued. “Care to elaborate, darling?”

You shift in your seat, trying to mask the tension in your voice. “I’m supposed to grab coffee with Matt.”

“Matt.” Ewan’s voice is low as he repeats the familiar name. “Just the two of you?”

“Yes.”

There’s a pause, his expression morphing from curiosity to something more intense. “Is it… is it a date?”

“I think that was implied,” you reply, your tone deliberately nonchalant as you try to maintain control of the conversation.

“Really.” His voice tightens, his response loaded with a mix of disbelief and frustration.

You notice the obvious shift in his demeanour, the way his jaw clenches and his eyes darken. “Why the long face?”

Ewan’s hands ball into fists on the table, his composure breaking. “Fuck, I—”

Before he can finish, you cut him off, your own frustration simmering. “Forget it. Don’t answer that.”

“No, just…” His voice falters, his emotions raw. “I don’t want you to go.”

You blink, taken aback by his admission. “Are you being serious right now, Mitchell?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” Ewan’s eyes lock onto yours, filled with a mix of hurt and possessiveness. A concoction borne out of circumstances of his own making. Or had it been you, last September? You can no longer keep track of whose fault reigns over everything. The truth of the matter is, you love him. Of course you do.

But nothing feels right anymore.

“I don’t know,” you retort, your voice rising slightly, “I hope you are. Because you can’t just say that to me.”

“But I am.” His tone is resigned but unwavering. “I don’t want to watch you with someone else.”

The words hit you like a cold splash of water, freezing you in place. “Then I’m ignoring what you just said. This isn’t fair to me.”

His face falls. “You can’t just ignore it. It’s not that simple.”

You stand up abruptly, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on you. “Well, I don’t see how this conversation is going to help anything.”

He stands as well, his expression pained and conflicted. “I just – damn it. Wait a minute, darling – ”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Look, if you’re going to act like this, then maybe we need to rethink – ”

“No,” he interrupts, his voice desperate. “I don’t want to rethink anything. I just… I need you to understand that this isn’t easy for me.”

The room falls silent, both of you breathing heavily. The unresolved problem lingers, the weight of it all hanging heavily between you.

You take a final look at him, feeling a mixture of anger and longing. “I’m gonna go get some air.”

Without waiting for a response, you turn and walk out of the break room, the doors closing sharply behind you. Ewan is left alone, frustration clear on his face as he stares at the empty space where you once stood.

Ewan is sprawled on his couch, a half-empty bottle of beer resting on the coffee table. The warm light of a lamp casts a muted glow over his apartment, which is littered with the remnants of his evening alone. He has seen the latest headlines about you and Matt, enjoying a date in Hyde Park.

Hyde Park Outing: Is it Love in the Air for these HBO Actors?

He tries to ignore them all, but the nagging bitterness won’t let him be. The images and headlines keep flashing in his mind. Unable to shake the frustration, he sends a quick message to Tom and Phia, inviting them over for a casual distraction.

A short while later, they arrive, carrying a six-pack and a box of takeout. Ewan greets them with a tired smile, which barely masks his despondence.

“Evening,” he says, opening the door wider to let them in. “Glad you could make it.”

Phia gives him a sympathetic look as she steps inside, setting down the food. “We came prepared. Looks like you could use a break.”

Tom follows, his eyes scanning the cluttered room. “And some beers. We figured you might need them.”

Ewan leads them to the living room, where they settle onto the couch. As they crack open the beers and start munching away, the initial wariness fades, replaced by casual conversation. His two guests are careful not to broach the topic of you, but they know it’s inevitable. Soon enough, it will be time to get down to business, which is essentially what they came for. They’re the rescue squad after all.

“So… we have a feeling we know what’s been eating at you,” Tom says, taking a swig of his beer. “We saw the headlines, mate. Don’t even deny it. It’s gotta be rough.”

Ewan grimaces, his hand gripping the bottle a little tighter. “Yeah, the headlines. they’re , uhhhh … oh, what does it even matter?”

Phia raises an eyebrow, glancing at him. “Come on, kid. It matters. You can talk to us. We weren’t cast as siblings for no reason.”

Ewan lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “We have this thing, this casual thing. But seeing her with someone else... it’s like a punch to the gut.”

Tom nods sympathetically. “I get it. I’m sure it was fun at first, but – ”

Phia’s concern wins over her, leading her to interject, “Ewan, maybe you need to bloody talk to her. Figure out where you both stand.”

Ewan shakes his head, though his expression softens, and his unmistakable vulnerability shines through. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to see where that leads.”

Phia reaches out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “Ask her why she ended things last year.”

“I know why – ”

“Just… ask her again? You might find out more than you expect.”

Tom waits a beat before butting in with a light-hearted chuckle, “It’s better than letting it fester. At least you’ll know where you stand. You owe her that much.”

Ewan huffs out a laugh, the bitterness in his voice giving way to reluctant amusement. “Maybe. I just don’t want to make things worse.”

“Mate,” Tom shakes his shoulder, “look at the state of things. How in the bloody hell can you make it even worse? I don’t think it’s possible.”

Phia just smirks at his boldness, but she agrees, nodding to Ewan, “He’s right, you know.”

Tom raises his beer in a mock toast. “To Aemond and Alyna.”

“Oh, you absolute rascal,” Phia laughs in disbelief.

But they all clink their bottles together, the gesture a small comfort amidst the confusion. The evening winds down after an hour, and after they depart, Ewan’s mind is still consumed with thought.

Day or night, you will answer Ewan’s call.

“Hello?” your voice patches through after a few rings.

“Darling,” he says, “I think we need to talk.”

💌 next chapter

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @urmomsgirlfriend1 @misfitbimbosblog (continued in comments ... )

Some notes in the margins...

I did have Matt and the reader's date written out, but I thought it seemed superfluous for this one. Maybe in a bonus chapter?

In the next one: 'THE talk', Ewan dealing with stuff for his film, whippets, interviews, MORE headlines... will they finally resolve everything?

Also, if yous want, I can give a glimpse on what would have happened if Matt got the BV shoot instead :)

The end isn't even within reach. More angst to follow. How can there be more, you ask? Let's hash it out below 😉💙

#ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell imagine #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd #chemical override #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine

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cottonlemonade · 2 months ago

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Mr Steal Your Girl

word count: 1311 || avg. reading time: 6 mins.

pairing: post-time skip!Kenma x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff, University

warnings: spoilers

synopsis: Kenma tries to ask you out but has awful timing

It was already hard enough to dress for a normal date but finding an outfit for a blind date you didn’t want to go to to begin with was impossible.

Your best friend was annoyed that she couldn’t take you and your chronically single self on any double dates and so decided to take matters into her own hands. At least once every few months she would close her eyes and pick a random guy walking around the campus cafeteria and ask if he was interested in a “cool, funny, smart girl that was just too shy to ask herself” and most of the time that was enough. The date was set, your friend dragged you along and you had a miserable two hours before being allowed to return to your natural habitat - your dorm room.

In her defense, most guys she selected were actually very nice. And except for the last one who had forgotten his wallet, then ate his weight in burgers, let you pay, and had since vanished without a trace or payback, they all knew how to behave. They kept the conversations going, complimented you, and usually asked for a second date, but you liked being alone and besides, dating was stressful. Who needed the whole hassle of getting dressed up and leaving the house? You wanted someone who liked to spend their time indoors, watch movies, play games, build a Lego set or two, snuggle, and snack.

Kenma was convinced that you were perfect for him. Witty, had excellent taste in games and music, and a figure that put every body pillow he ever received as a promo gift to shame. He spent the better part of any lecture twirling his pen in his long fingers and staring at the back of your head, then quickly snapping his eyes the other way, pretending to look intently at the monitor upfront if you happened to turn around during a stretch. He remembered overhearing one of his former classmates once saying that asking someone out was easy, but now that Kenma absently drew a heart with your initials on the side of his notes, he found he didn’t share that sentiment. Partly because he didn’t like to go out in the first place, so how would he convincingly invite someone to something he didn’t even want to go to either?

None of his friends knew about his crush on you and he wasn’t going to admit it to them. Not because he would be embarrassed if they knew, but because he didn’t want to be grouped together with your small and not-so-secret on-campus fan club - a bunch of desperate boys who all wanted a piece of the chubby queen of homebodies. So he denied any allegations that quickening his sluggish steps on the way to the lecture hall to sit in your vicinity, his sleep-deprived heart eyes and doodle-adorned notepads meant anything. Pondering, he tapped the tip of his pen onto the paper, trying to figure out a way to invite you to play games with him, romantically. He wasn‘t going to stoop as low as to ask Kuroo for help and instead took to the wild seas of the internet for advice.

As he scrolled through the many many forums, sifting through mostly bad ideas, he overheard one of your friends say, “It‘s just dinner and a movie. Give him a chance. He is the captain of the swim team after all.“

Kenma‘s heart sank - and then bounced back up immediately when you groaned.

“Look, it‘s sweet and … a little concerning how much you care about my love life, but I‘m not interested in him. Or anyone really. I just prefer to be alone.“

100% understanding and agreeing with you, Kenma chewed the inside of his cheek, thinking if it would come across as weird and creepy if he were to ask you to be alone together.

“But I worry about you.“, the friend pouted.

You laughed and gently put a hand on her shoulder, “Not everyone meets the love of their life at university.“

In truth, you just didn‘t want your friend to know about your ridiculous crush on Kodzuken. Your heart had almost jumped out of your chest when you first spotted the tell-tale half-dyed ponytail in your class and heard the all too familiar voice during a presentation project. It was silly, really, and you did well pushing your infatuation to the very back of your mind.

After all, whenever you tried to catch a glimpse of him he would look away immediately, making it all too clear that wasn‘t interested in a conversation.

It was no use either way. Your friend wouldn‘t stop pushing until you were social for an evening so you chose your usual - well fitted jeans and a thin, long sleeved sweater to keep the cold and any potential bodily contact to a minimum. Your friend waved when she recognized you getting off the bus. She was already waiting in the arms of her boyfriend with a tower of a guy right next to them, who, when seeing who his set-up was going to be, looked a little disappointed. Oh great.

Kenma felt more pathetic by the second. All day he had tried to work up the courage to catch you in a calm minute to ask you out before your date. If it went well with that guy, chances were he wouldn’t ever let you go (if he knew what was best for him), so this was basically his last opportunity ever. When he didn’t manage to ask during class, then neither during lunch, nor in the library he never went to before, and neither at the bus stop, he thought he might as well face the fact that it wasn’t meant to be. But he found himself a few hours later behind you in the queue at the movie theater, he heard you were planning to go to. He would have to ask now before he’d have to buy a ticket. As he politely waited for a lull in the conversation between you and the Iron Man your friend set you up with, Kenma tried to busy himself with a game on his phone to calm his nerves. But he became so engrossed in a level that he missed his chance and could only watch you walk away with your friends. He should just give up. This was ludicrous.

“One ticket to whatever movie they just went to.”, he said before he could stop himself.

Just turn around. Turn around and leave. Come on.

But his feet had other plans. With the overpriced movie stub in hand, he shuffled to the auditorium and searched in the crowd for you. Unfortunately, the first marker he found was the tall guy next to you, talking to your friend and boyfriend, leaving you to sit quietly and awkwardly to the side.

He walked up the steps and your eyes met. Your cheeks blushed, as did his, and with the confidence of a deflated balloon, he came to a halt next to you, hands in his pockets.

“Hey y/n, I’m Kenma. I’m in your business class.”

“I know.”, you said and he was already relieved. First hurdle down. Now, carefully…

“Do you wanna go to a gaming café together?”

“Wha- right now?”

“I mean, yeah, if you don’t have anything else going on.”, he looked past you to the guy who just stared at him in disbelief and added in appeasement of your date, “Nothing personal.”

You exchanged a look with your friend who was just as shocked as the others and she shrugged. You turned back to Kenma.

“Sure thing.”

He held out his hand, then felt silly doing so and was about to lower it when you grabbed it.

“Lead the way.”, you said brightly and he did.

#kenma x chubby reader #kenma kozume x reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #chubby reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu x curvy reader #kenma x you #kenma fluff #kenma kuzome #kenma x reader #hq kenma #haikyuu kenma #kozume kenma #kenma #kenma x y/n

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akirqx · 3 months ago

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how to properly comfort a wild Miya Atsumu

— a guide.

Step 1: ask the atsumu what’s wrong.

You know you’re going to be listening to him rant for hours when he comes home in a bad mood.

The opening and then the sudden slam of the front door to your apartment takes your attention away from your phone.

You look up to see a bothered boyfriend with a slight pout to his face as he abandons his belongings on the floor and heads straight to plop himself right on top of you on the couch.

It wasn’t exactly unusual for him to do this, so you figured he was just extra tired today and continued whatever you were doing on your phone.

It wasn’t until he kept dramatically sighing and shifting every minute that you figured you should probably ask him what’s wrong..

“Are you okay tsumu” you put your phone down next to you, making eye contact with him.

“It’s ’bout time ya asked” he pouted, shifting once more so that he basically bear hugged you. You sighed, rolling your eyes as he wasted no time explaining.

“I practice with a bunch of idiots” here he goes again..he complains at least once a week about the same thing.

Step 2: do NOT push the atsumu away because he’s all sweaty (do not).

You listened to him rant for a couple of minutes, the warmth of his body providing as a blanket for you even if you weren’t cold.

“Tsumu….i love you but you’re so sweaty.” You sighed, trying to wiggle out of his grasp which only resulted in him tightening his hold.

“Don’t be rude” he pouted looking straight up at you as he used your chest to hold his head up. “What, can’t cuddle my girl now?”

“No, please shower” you lightly push his face away, only smiling at his deepened pout.

“No”

“Yes”

“No”

“Yes”

Step 3: if you didn’t listen to step 2, a kiss will cheer the atsumu up!

After your boyfriend lost the battle and showered, he returned to the couch. Not one word being said and instead of him laying on top of you, he sat on the other side of the couch, turning the tv on.

This made you raise an eyebrow and stare directly at him. He refused to make eye contact, even though he knew that you knew he knew you were staring.(lmao sorry).

“Tsumu” you called out, watching him pretend to be soo interested in whatever was on tv

“Seriously”

“…”

You sigh and crawl up to where he sat on the couch, forcing yourself into his arms, which, wasn’t hard since he would never miss the chance of holding you.

You lean up to press a sweet kiss on his cheek, and Atsumu immediately turned to look at you, a cheeky grin now plastered on his face.

Step 4: give into the cuddles.

Now that you are in his arms, his upset mood from earlier seemed to vanish. And now? Now, you were stuck cuddling for the rest of the night. Good luck !

ok I hate writers block ik this sucks..

This was also inspired by a post I read a couple of months ago ! I’m really sorry I’m not sure who it’s from or even which character it’s for since i read it like back in April (I think) but this is inspired !!

also plsplsplspls send me requests or prompts or smtg plsplspls

#haikyuu #fluff #haikyuu fluff #x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #hq atsumu #haikyuu atsumu #msby atsumu #atsumu x you

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shmaptainwrites · 7 months ago

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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — It was never Reader's plan to be a single mother to a newborn child, but a longtime friend steps in and before long they both have the family they've always wanted, the only catch: they're still just friends

WORD COUNT — 13.6K

WARNINGS — mentions of pregnancy and birth, breastfeeding (like non descriptive? does this need to be a warning?)

NOTE — Okay this fic has been in the works for a while and I have been swamped with school so I'm so happy I'm finally able to post something because it's literally been a full-ass month since I last came out with anything ._. hoping once finals are over I can get back into my writing groove and give some of my ideas the attention they deserve!

Middle photo credit goes to @shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey

“Are you sure this is okay?” you looked back while holding a baby carrier in both hands.

“Like I told you back at the hospital, and in the car, and then again in the car, I promise this is okay,” James assured you, following right behind, bags under each arm. “You just went through a 40 hour labour, did you really think it would be a smart move to come home alone?”

He was right about that, physically you were exhausted, you were sure how much longer you could keep your eyes open.

“Go take a shower, I’ll look after her until you get out,” he suggested. “If you had a support person here you would have taken shifts.”

“I know, but you have a life James,” you sighed. “One that didn’t involve your friend getting pregnant and then taking care of her.”

“Would it make it any better if I told you I really don’t mind? I like spending time with you, it’s why we’ve been friends for so long,” he put the bags down by the table and then placed a hand on your shoulder.

“James, I love you, but I’m going to be brutally honest because my filter has vanished. This is what happens to all your wives, all your girlfriends. I really don’t need that happening to us too,” you said.

“It won’t,” he pressed. “Come on, just take the shower. I know you want to.”

You sighed, “Alright, but I’m not gonna call for you to come in the middle of the night and every which time of day. If you want to come and see us, do it of your own accord and if you don’t want to then don’t,” you emphasized. “Do what you want, not what you think I want.”

“If I say I will, will you go take a shower?” James asked and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Don’t drop my baby while I’m in there, okay?” you pointed at him. “You still owe me for that vase you broke.”

“You mean the tacky one your crappy ex-boyfriend’s mom gave you? I think I did you a favour there.”

“You’re insufferable sometimes, you know?” you said carefully putting the carrier down in the living room and looking down at your resting daughter for a moment before heading towards your room.

“I love you too,” he said simply, replacing you by her side and keeping a close eye on her while she slept.

You had to admit, it was a relief to be able to step into the shower, knowing there was someone you trusted outside looking after the small human you were now fully responsible for. At least before dealing with the stress and everything that would come afterwards you’d be able to be clean.

When you came out of your bedroom after your shower, dressed in the most comfortable clothes you could find lying around, you saw James in the kitchen, the carrier now propped up on the table while he unpacked something from some grocery bags.

“I was craving Indian, do you want some?” he asked.

“Of course I do, the food at your hospital sucks, hand it over,” you put your hand out and he gave you a bowl so you could serve yourself some rice and curry. “She’s still asleep?”

“Woke up once, but I got her to fall back asleep pretty easily. She might get hungry soon though too.”

“So I should eat while I still have the chance,” you sat down at the island and began munching on the food, turning around the carrier so you could see your daughter.

It was interesting, she’d been around only for a short few days but you could barely ever take your eyes off her.

“Did you pick a name for her yet?” James asked, leaning over the table and eating his portion of dinner.

“I think so,” you nodded. “I was between two when she was born, but now that I look at her she fits one better than the other.”

“So what’s the winner?”

“Liana,” you smiled and brushed your fingers along her small curled toes. “It suits her doesn’t it?”

“I think it does,” he nodded. “You made a pretty cute baby.”

“I made a very cute baby, thank you very much,” you scoffed with a chuckle. “You think you could do better?”

“Well I don’t have a uterus so I don’t think we’ll ever be able to find out,” he shook his head. “Shame, I probably would have demolished you.”

“As if,” you laughed, continuing to eat more food just as Liana began to stir awake. “And there’s my cue.”

You stood up and carefully took her out of the carrier, cautious of supporting her neck before moving over to the couch where you could comfortably feed her.

“Once you’re done I’ll burp her,” James said. “So you can keep eating.”

“Sure,” you nodded. “Got practice from your med school days?”

“Yeah, actually,” he nodded. “I thought originally I might specialize in working in the NICU so I spent a lot of time in the maternity ward.”

“What made you change your mind?” you asked.

“I would have burnt out,” he admitted. “Seeing babies and spending time with them is one thing, but seeing them sick and sometimes not get better? It’s a lot harder than you’d imagine.”

You hummed thoughtfully, “You would have been good in that department if you decided to go that route. I think at least.”

“Really, why do you think so?”

“James, you’ve always been great with kids and parents. Don’t you remember how we met?”

He chuckled to himself, “Summer camp days. Yeah, you really did have to know your way around both.”

“You somehow managed, as a nineteen-year-old, to calm a child who was freaking out about staying away from home and dealing with an unhappy parent of a different child. I think your people skills just got better as you got older.”

“I don’t think there’s much in life that trains you to deal with crises as much as being a camp counsellor.”

“You can test your skills with Liana and see if you’ve still got the magic when it comes to babies,” you teased, followed by a yawn.

“Trust me, I definitely do,” he assured you. “Babies love me.”

“And do you love babies?”

“I do, and I think I’m gonna end up loving yours a little more than most,” he admitted.

“Good, she’s gonna need it,” you sighed. “I’m gonna need it.”

There was a pause for a moment before James spoke up again,

“Have you talked to him since the break up?” he asked and you shook your head, feeling the tears develop in your eyes.

“I don’t really want to talk about it, not right now,” you whispered, looking down at Liana again.

James did not peg your boyfriend as the abandoning type, but after he had coaxed the news out of you during one of your visits, he could see how much it crushed you to think of what lied ahead. Not because you didn’t want a child, but because Liana was all you wanted and you thought you were on the same page as your partner, but when it came down to things he couldn’t hold up the mask he’d been wearing any longer.

“You should talk about it sometime though, right?” James said softly. “Doesn’t have to be with me, but you’ve been so laser focused on getting through the past nine months you haven’t really processed what happened.”

Liana had since finished feeding and you carried her over to the kitchen island, passing James a burp cloth that he could drape across his shoulder before taking her from your hands, after you pressed a small kiss to her forehead.

“Not sure if I want to process it,” you admitted. “I’d rather focus on her.”

“And I’d rather you take care of yourself so you don’t crash and burn,” he said.

You knew he was right, but it was nicer to pretend you were alone from start to finish than even imagining the possibility that someone was supposed to be with you through everything. The doctors appointments, the morning sickness, the preparation.

Instead you ended up feeling like a burden to your friends who had gone out of their way to help you and be there for you.

“Okay,” you nodded simply. “I’ll do it for you and her then.”

“It’ll end up being for you in the end,” he assured. “But just…trust me on this okay?”

“I do,” you smiled. “Just like I trust you with her.”

You finished eating your dinner while James took care of Liana and even managed to get her to go back to sleep. It seemed that even though she’d only been in the world a short while, she felt just as safe in his arms as she did in yours.

“You can put her down if you want. I have a cot set up in my room,” you pointed.

“I’m alright like this,” he shook his head. “I’ll hold her until you’re done then I’ll leave you guys so you can get some sleep.”

Considering how hungry you were, it didn't take that much longer for you to finish eating and while you cleared up the dishes, James went and put Liana down in her bed and then gathered his things so he could give you some time alone.

“I’ll see you around, James. Thanks for coming to help today,” you gave him a big hug and he held you tight in that way he would when he wanted to say something, but knew it should probably wait.

“Anytime,” he gave you an additional squeeze. “You’re gonna be a great mom. You are a great mom already. I’m really happy for you.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say any words in response so you just nodded your head and held onto him tighter. After a moment he pulled away and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Love you, now go get some sleep.”

“You’ve got it Dr. Wilson,” you saluted him.

You walked him out of the door and after closing it shut behind him you took a deep breath. It was going to be hard, but you could do it.

—

A few months later…

“Don’t you have a life?” you yawned, bouncing Liana in your arms to try and get her to fall asleep.

“I mean I went bowling with House last night and I consistently stay late at work, and that’s about it, so no,” James shook his head.

“So you figured that coming and bothering me is a good use of your spare time.”

“I wouldn’t call it bothering,” James gave you a look. “I made you dinner.”

“Yeah you did, and unfortunately it was really good too,” you sighed. “So you just want to hang out with me and Liana?”

“Yeah, is that so hard to believe?”

“A little considering I always have baby vomit on me now,” you chuckled.

“It brings out your eyes,” he teased. “Here, why don’t I take her.”

“Last time I agreed to that you riled her up, which I didn’t think was possible for a three month old,” you eyed him skeptically.

“I promise I’ll put her to sleep,” he crossed his heart.

“Wrong religion, James,” you shook your head and he laughed.

“Do you want me to swear on the Torah?”

“It would help,” you nodded.

“Alright, I swear on the Torah that I won’t rile her up.”

You reluctantly passed Liana over to James and scoffed when she almost immediately stopped fussing.

“See,” he smiled and kissed her small nose while he rocked her gently, making her eyes slowly close as she fell asleep.

“You two are in kahoots. She’s fine whenever you’re not around, but when you are it’s like she knows she can get passed off to you if she’s fussy enough,” you laughed a little. “It’s cute though, I like how much she likes you.”

“Me too, why do you think I keep coming here?”

“So you came to visit, what do you want to do?” you asked. “My plans were to clean the kitchen and do laundry, so not much more exciting than sitting around at home.”

“Why don’t you let me put her down then we can tackle the kitchen together. I mean I did make half of the mess there.”

“I won’t argue with you there,” you sighed and put your hands on your hips. “Okay, I’m gonna throw a load in before you put her down.”

It took a little bit for James to be confident Liana was fully asleep before putting her down in her cot and then meeting you again in the kitchen where you were packing up leftovers from dinner.

“Have you had many visitors?” James asked.

“Well, I do have this one guy that keeps coming around, about this tall, practicing oncology, I think he’s a little bit obsessed with me,” you joked.

“Aside from me,” he shook his head and went over to the dishes.

“Yeah, a few. My parents were here for a bit while you were out of town and then some of my friends have come around to help with a few things here and there and to meet Liana.”

“Nice.”

“You sound like you want to say something,” you looked back at him.

“It’s not too much having me over all the time, is it?”

“No, not at all,” you shook your head. “You know me, I’d tell you if it was.”

“Because I really do like spending time with you both. It’s a lot nicer than going to an empty house at the end of the day,” he admitted. “So if you don’t mind, maybe I can keep bothering you and making a mess in your kitchen.”

“I think that would be okay,” you smiled.

You cleaned in silence for a bit before James began asking a few questions about Liana.

“She had an appointment with her pediatrician recently, right? Everything went okay?”

“Yeah, fit as a fiddle,” you sighed. “Thank goodness.”

“Have you decided if you’re gonna use formula yet? Or will you wait it out?”

“I was actually going to ask you about this, whenever I ask anyone I think has an opinion I’d like to hear they say I need to make the decision myself and then everyone I don’t want to hear from seems to have something to say,” you chuckled. “What do you think? As a doctor?”

“I mean, if I were in your situation I might wait a bit longer, she’s still pretty young and there’s no real reason to switch over yet. I think a lot of people start maybe around 12 months and from what I’ve seen that works well,” he shrugged.

“Thanks for giving me a straight answer,” you placed a hand on his arm. “I also don’t know if I should try and take leave from work or hire a nanny, but I think I probably have to figure that one out myself.”

“Do you have enough savings to take the time off?” he asked.

“I get a few more months paid leave from the company I work for since I have seniority, but after that I have to figure out what to do. I think I have enough saved to last me some time, but I’m going to have to go back eventually.”

James hummed thoughtfully.

“Do you wanna come up with solutions tonight or relax now that we’ve finished cleaning?” he asked, motioning his head to the kitchen that was definitely in better shape than before.

“Let’s watch a movie or something, I don’t think I’ve turned the TV on since Liana was born. I’ll fold the laundry when it’s done while we watch,” you said. “I’ll figure something out later.”

“We should watch, oh jeez what’s that thing we started ages ago and never finished?”

“The really bad soap?” you asked and he nodded, “Oh yes, we’re definitely watching that.”

“Okay, you go get settled, I’m gonna make some tea, do you want some?”

“Sure, just make me whatever you’re having,” you nodded and grabbed the remote from under the pile of blankets on the couch, turning on the TV and trying to find the episodes you had recorded to watch later.

By the time James had finished making the tea, you had found the show and were just about to start it.

“Here,” James passed you the mug. “So what was the last thing that happened?”

“I think the main guy was sleeping with the head nurse, right and then there was the whole thing with her being engaged to the other surgeon and then her sister was in a coma?”

“Wait, I thought the surgeon she was engaged to was sleeping with one of his patients?”

“He was,” you nodded. “It was a whole thing.”

“Alright, just start it, I’m sure I’ll remember more as we watch.”

James was very sorely mistaken, if anything he’d gotten more confused and you were absolutely no help because nothing was making sense anymore.

“What is up with the writing?” you asked. “Like did they just completely forget they had a whole storyline dedicated to this huge procedure and now they’re acting like nothing happened.”

“Don’t get me started, that guy was doing surgery without gloves, like that doesn’t even take much effort to get right. You’d think it was common sense,” James added.

“Maybe we should turn it off,” you looked over at your friend, “it’s getting us all riled up.”

James pressed his lips together, “I know, but I kind of want to find out who’s the father of Paula’s baby.”

You leaned back into the couch, you had managed to fold all the laundry, and it was still a little too early to go to sleep, you supposed a few more episodes couldn’t hurt.

“If I fall asleep, just lock up on your way out, okay?” you looked over at him and he nodded as you started the next episode.

Just as you predicted, about halfway through the second episode you began to drift off, and as soon as James noticed, he stopped the episode already having decided you could finish it together another time.

He shifted you slightly so you were lying down on the couch instead of in the uncomfortable position you were in before, placing a blanket over top of you. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek, wishing you a good night before going to check on Liana, and after seeing she was sleeping soundly and the baby monitor was on, he saw himself out, taking your spare key from where it was hidden on the porch and locking the door.

—

“How’s my girl doing?” James grinned, scooping Liana out of your arms. “I haven’t seen you in so long,” he kissed her nose making her giggle.

“James, you were here two days ago,” you laughed.

“And it feels like an eternity.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, “She’s got you wrapped around her finger.”

“I don’t mind,” he shrugged. “Just as long as we get to spend time together.”

“Yeah, well she hasn’t napped yet so it can wait until after that,” you reached to take her back but James insisted he could put her to sleep. “James, you just got off work are you sure you don’t want to eat something or take a break for a bit?”

“This is like a break for me,” he assured you.

“Okay, I’m gonna make a salad, come out and eat when you’re done.”

James nodded and went off to the bedroom so he could sit on the armchair there and coax her to sleep.

Usually he didn’t need more than twenty minutes to half an hour to put her down, so when you were hitting the forty-five minute mark you wondered if Liana was being fussy, so you went to check in on them, instead seeing James fast asleep on the armchair with Liana snuggled against his chest.

You bit back a big smile and went to go grab your camera quickly, and quietly snapped a shot of the two of them.

Not wanting to wake either of them, you made your way back to the kitchen, shutting the door of the room behind you to make sure the sound didn’t travel.

Figuring it might be a while before James came back out, you decided to eat your dinner, that way you could take Liana from him when they woke up so he could get something to eat too.

As you had predicted, James exited the room about an hour later, Liana now awake and hungry for her own dinner.

“Want me to take her now?” you teased and he rolled his eyes while you took your baby from him, sitting on the couch to feed her while he grabbed himself something to eat. “You had a good nap?”

“Great actually, I think I needed it. Been pulling a lot of late nights at the office getting paperwork done,” he admitted. “I’m surprised you didn’t wake me.”

“You looked comfortable, I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Well, I appreciate it cause I needed the sleep,” he sighed and came and sat next to you while he began to eat his dinner.

“James, I…I tried to talk to him the other week,” you said, knowing he would be able to connect the dots back to your ex. “I’d been meaning to tell you, it just slipped my mind I guess.”

“You did…what did he say?”

“God, I’m gonna start crying again,” you let out a humourless chuckle and lifted a hand to wipe away the tears beginning to form in your eyes. “It doesn’t matter what he said. What matters is that it was probably good that we broke up. He wouldn’t have been a good father or husband for that matter when it came down to it.”

“I’m proud of you for reaching out anyways. It takes a lot of guts to do that after someone leaves you.”

You nodded your head, “I’m just…I know I said you should keep coming here because you want to, but I really do like having you around. It just makes it seem simpler. Easier,” you looked over at him. “You’re a good friend Jamie, I love you.”

“Love you too,” he leaned over and pressed a kiss to your forehead, watching as your attention turned back to your daughter as she finished feeding.

You held her just like that in your arms for a little while longer, watching as she reached out for your fingers and then tried to go even further to grab James. Clearly her attention was addictive because he was ready to put his food down to help burp her, but you made a teasing remark about him hogging her and that he needed to eat his food so you’d take care of it and he could have her when he was done.

Eventually, you traded Liana for James’ dishes and went to load the dishwasher while he kept her occupied, letting her gnaw on his tie while making all sorts of nonsensical baby noises that James took as conversation starters.

It was funny to watch the two have what looked like a full blown conversation and you were sure James had been reading some parenting magazine or another that spoke of helping babies develop linguistic abilities.

“Hey James,” you crossed your arms over your chest, leaning against the wall.

“Yeah?”

“Do you want a key?”

“A key to what?” he looked at you confused.

“The house,” you said. “I just thought since you’re here all the time you can come and go whenever you want and if you forget something and I’m out you can come get it yourself.”

“A key,” he thought about it. “This feels like a big milestone moment.”

“I mean I already have the key to your place, but that was because you refused to have anyone look after you after you got your wisdom teeth removed.”

“Wait, you have my key?”

“Yeah, I just took yours and had it copied,” you shrugged.

“I feel like I should be a bit more concerned about this, but I’m not.”

“It’s because you’re friends with House, you’re used to it,” you waved him off.

“Liana, did you know your mom’s a thief?” he looked down at the baby in his arms and you rolled your eyes.

“Do you want the key or not?”

“I’ll take it, and I guess you can keep mine, but I’m never there anyways.”

“It’s okay, I’ll just use it if I need to steal your social insurance card to commit identity theft.”

“Liana banana, your mom’s being very silly tonight,” James picked her up and held her out in front of him before bringing her down to press a few kisses to her face, making her giggle. “It’s okay, we still love mommy even though she’s silly, right?”

“You better,” you flicked his shoulder as you walked by after grabbing an ice cream sandwich from the freezer.

“Hey, I’ve got something in my bag I forgot to give you, do you mind bringing it over here?” James asked, motioning to the briefcase on the armchair closest to the front door.

You nodded your head and stood up again to grab it and pass it to him. He rummaged through it with one hand while still holding Liana before passing you what looked like a receipt.

“Uh thanks?” you looked a little confused.

“Read what it’s for,” James chuckled. “They’ll get delivered next week.”

“James,” you put the receipt down. “You didn’t.”

“You’ve been talking about it for four months, I had to do something,” he shrugged. “And I didn’t get you anything for your baby shower.”

“Because you planned it,” you laughed. “Seriously this is a lot. I don’t know if I can accept this.”

“Just think of it this way. I’m here all the time, we like to go out with Liana together and it’s a great stroller with good safety ratings.”

“Okay sure you’ll use that, but the cot too?”

“The one you have in there’s been recalled, I was just doing you a favour,” he said.

You chuckled a little, pressing your lips together. “Liana, my darling, we are very spoiled.”

“I’ll come over when it gets delivered and help set it up,” James said.

“I still don’t know what to say, James, this is…really generous of you.”

“Believe me, right now nothing makes me happier, and I mean that,” he reached out a hand to you and you took it, giving it a gentle squeeze.

As promised, the next week James was back at your home to help set up the stroller and the cot and you figured it would be the right time to pull out that camcorder your father had gotten you to help record some memories you were making with Liana.

“Hey, James wanna tell the camera what you’re doing?”

“Wondering why I didn’t get a degree in engineering apparently.” he mumbled while hunched over some instructions, a pencil behind his ear and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“What does your assistant think?” you moved the camera over to Liana, sitting in a rocking seat that was propped up next to James.

“That this video isn’t going to be very good for my image in the future. This stuff is worse than IKEA,” he scratched the back of his head.

“You’re doing great,” you assured him and came to give him an encouraging side hug. “Alright, let me stop this video and we can try and tackle it together.”

You put the camera down on the bed and looked over the instructions with James, having a bit of an easier time piecing things together compared to him, so in the end you were put on deciphering the instructions while he assembled the cot.

An embarrassing amount of time later, the cot was completely assembled (only after having to disassemble it all the first time because there was one piece left over and you had no idea what step you had missed using it), and you carefully placed Liana inside to see how it would hold up.

“You know they say you can be proud of something you built with your own two hands, but I’m afraid this is going to fall apart,” James said.

“We followed the instructions really carefully, it should be fine,” you said, trying to convince yourself. “And Liana looks comfortable in there, look at her she’s giggling.”

“I think that’s because we look like we’ve been building a house or something,” he looked between you, seeing your dirty clothes and messed up hair.

“Who knew putting together a cot would be so labour intensive,” you chuckled. “I think we can safely say we deserve some takeout. What do you want?”

“Anything, I’m starving,” James sat down on the edge of the bed. “You think this will help her sleep a little better?”

“Let’s hope so,” you rubbed your temples. “You coming?” you asked, taking Liana out of the cot and carrying her out towards the door.

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute,” he nodded and you left him in the room, staring at the wooden baby’s bed in front of him. It was a simple thing you had both made together, but for James, it was starting to feel like so much more than just that.

You built a cot, but what did building a cot mean? What did it mean that he bought it for you without a second question or a moment’s hesitation? What did it mean that he couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off his face every single time he stepped into this house?

It probably meant a lot of things, but at the moment, to James, it felt like he had a family and he’d hold onto that for as long as he was able to.

—

As much as you wished it could be, not every day was easy. Today was one of those days at the end of a long week and you wanted nothing more than to collapse and call it quits.

Something was wrong with Liana, she was never this fussy, but all the doctors would just repeat the same thing over and over again.

She has colic.

You have a colic-y baby.

Your baby has colic. She’s going to be fine.

She didn’t sound fine. Not when she would cry and cry and you didn’t know what was happening or how to make her feel better. It made your heart feel tight and constricted especially when all you could do was bounce and rock her in hopes that it might soothe whatever was going on inside her.

You were so focused on the sounds of the crying baby you didn’t hear the door unlock as James entered the house. After putting down his bags, he followed the sound of the crying before finding you in the rocking chair in your room, gently hushing Liana to try and coax her back to sleep.

“James,” you tried to stand up when you noticed he was there, but he rushed over to your side, placing a hand on your shoulder and encouraging you to sit back down. “I’m afraid we’re not really having a fun day today. You might want to just go home and rest,” you suggested.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“James, I’m serious I-,”

“Hey,” he said gently, quieting you as a hand came to hold your cheek. “Talk to me, mom. What’s happening?”

You pressed your lips together and shook your head.

“I don’t know,” you let the tears spill from your eyes, just as they were for Liana, but you basked in the comfort James’ simple action offered. “She just keeps crying and I don’t know what’s wrong. T-They kept saying she has colic, but this isn’t colic, James.”

He nodded his head and wiped away your tears while trying to think of a solution to the problem in front of you.

“I have an idea, just give me a second, I’ll be right back.”

James went off to the kitchen and came back with a bit of a white powder on his finger. He helped you sit Liana up before getting her to eat a little bit of it.

“What is that?”

“Just baking soda. I saw this in a few babies. Doctors think it’s colic, but it’s reflux. Have you been eating anything different from usual?” he asked.

“Me?”

“Yeah, it might be something she’s allergic to getting in the breast milk,” he explained while rubbing Liana’s back. “Here let me take her so you can have a break. Go to the kitchen, get some water and write down a list of what you’ve been eating recently and we’ll go over it and see if we can find anything that lines up with her fussiness.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll survive,” he nodded.

You passed over your baby to him and made your way out of the room, following James’ suggestion and noticing how with a little bit of time her crying had quieted down and instead was replaced by softer sniffles and a much nicer sound. It drew you away from the list you were leaning over and back to the door of the bedroom where you leaned in the frame and watched and listened while James, with his back turned to you, sang a soft lullaby to Liana.

I love you forever, I’ll like you for always, as long as I’m living, my baby you’ll be.

Over and over like a prayer until Liana’s sniffles had faded and there was only silence.

He carefully put her back in her bed, waiting a few moments to make sure she was really sleeping, before turning back and seeing you standing in the doorway.

When he made his way up to you, you reached out and pulled him into as tight of a hug as you’d ever given him. You held onto the sleeves of your shirt while one arm came under his and across his back with the other around his neck, holding him as close to you as you possibly could.

“You okay?” James asked and you nodded your head, silently while a few more tears streamed down your face.

“I will be.”

“I-,” James faltered for a moment, but he said it anyway. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Three words he had said so many times, that had meant a particular thing when he said them to you, but now he couldn’t help but feel like they meant something a little different.

You both stayed like that a moment longer before you pulled apart, wiping away your tears and going back to your list to see if James’ theory could be correct.

“Maybe try cutting these ones out of your diet,” he suggested. “See if she gets any better and if not call me and I’ll get her an appointment with one of the pediatricians at the hospital.”

“Okay,” you nodded. “I just don’t get why they kept saying colic like is that just some doctor term for I don’t know what’s wrong, but your baby is fussy?”

“I don’t know,” James shook his head, “but don’t ever let anyone bully you into not trusting your gut. She’s your daughter and you know her best.”

“You seem to know her pretty well too. You took one look at her and managed to help her when I couldn’t,” you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“Coincidence,” he patted your shoulder.

“Give yourself a little credit. You’re with her a lot too, it’s part of why I trust your judgement so much when it comes to her. I know you’re not just going to tell me some medical mumbo jumbo you…you’re with her, you see how she is, you know.”

“I don’t know how you managed to hold it together so well,” James said. “I was in there with her for twenty minutes and I wanted to cry right with her.”

“It’s so hard,” you shook your head. “You can tell she’s uncomfortable, that something’s wrong, but she can’t tell you what.”

James nodded his head, “Before you know it she’ll be walking and talking and hopefully it’ll be a lot easier to understand what she needs.”

“It’s hard to imagine that,” you chuckled. “She is growing so fast though.”

“And you’re doing a great job,” James wrapped an arm around your shoulder and you took a deep breath. You wanted to correct him and say ‘we’re doing a great job’, but everything about this felt so delicate. It wasn’t his responsibility to parent Liana and you didn’t want to pressure him into thinking that it had become that, but regardless you felt like he’d been around so much it would be wrong to give yourself full credit for everything.

“It takes a village,” you settled on saying, extending your arm so it was wrapped around him as well. “Speaking of a village, I need to hire a nanny.”

“So you’re going to go back to work?” he asked and you nodded.

“Just part time for now. Pay is good enough. I should be fine with that for a while.”

“Good,” James nodded. “Do you need help going through resumes?”

“Nah, Janine is taking care of that for me, her boyfriend works with the police so free background checks. She’s gonna send me a short list and then I’ll interview them.”

You looked up at James and chuckled,

“You seem surprised.”

“I didn’t know you outsourced to other people too,” he teased.

“Are you jealous, Jamie?” you tickled his sides a little bit. “Come on, you know you’re my number one. Can you seriously tell me you could have gotten police-level background checks on nannies?”

“I could have tried.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m gonna save you from this job so you can help me with other stuff, okay?” you turned him around and patted his chest. “I love you, James, but you can’t do it all. I have to look out for you too.”

“You don’t have to look after me,” he assured you. “You’ve got a lot on your plate, I can take care of myself.”

“James, that’s the whole point of this,” you pointed between you. “I’m not about to let it be one-sided.”

“Is that why you keep packing me lunches?” he asked.

“Maybe,” you shrugged. “And it's kind of fun leaving you little notes.”

“House thinks I’m seeing someone because of what you put in the last one. He steals my food, you know.”

“I’ll just pack double next time,” you laughed.

James smiled at the sound of your laughter, savouring the moment of levity he was able to bring you after a long and hard few days.

You looked back up at him once your laughter had died down and filled with a quiet sense of gratitude, you could help but lean into his side, sighing contentedly and it made you feel warm to the touch when his arm wrapped around you and pulled you in closer.

Things may not have been simple or easy, but at least they felt right.

—

James was just about to leave his office to get some food in the cafeteria when he heard the phone ring, keeping him seated at his desk so he could answer.

“Hello, Oncology Department. Dr. James Wilson speaking.”

“James, it’s me,” you said quickly, almost like you were in a hurry.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing dire,” you sighed. “My nanny got sick and my backup nanny is out of town and I have this huge meeting at work I cannot miss, but I-I don’t have anyone to look after Liana. I hate to ask this, you know I wouldn’t bug you unless it was a real emergency, but can I bring her by? Just for two maybe three hours tops. Then I’ll come grab her and she can be in my office with me for the rest of the day.”

“Yeah, of course, bring her over,” James nodded. “I have a few patient consults today, but nothing too strenuous or contagious for a small baby.”

“James, are you sure? I feel really bad asking-,”

“It’s fine. Today was going to be boring anyway, I could use some Liana time to spice things up.”

“James, I love you, you’re a lifesaver,” you breathed a sigh of relief. “I owe you one okay? Cash it in whenever.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he chuckled. “I’m gonna go grab a quick bite to eat. I’ll meet you in my office when you come.”

“Great, see you then.”

You both hung up and when James came back upstairs you were just arriving at his office with Liana strapped in her car seat and a bag slung around your shoulder.

“Okay, I’ve got snacks, and a carrier, and her toys, and-,”

“Goodness, take a breath,” James chuckled. “We’re gonna be fine, I’ve looked after her before.”

“I know, I know. I’m just nervous about this meeting and rushing around to get everything prepped and then the nannies fell through,” you took a deep breath to try and slow your heart down and James put a hand on your shoulder assuring you everything was going to be alright.

“You’re gonna kill it at that meeting, alright?” he pulled you in for a quick hug.

“Thanks again, I seriously appreciate and love you and your big fat heart.”

“Thanks, I think,” he chuckled again. “I love you too.”

You kissed your hand and tapped it on his cheek before doing the same for Liana who smiled and James took a moment to stare out the door and watch you as you left the room, still feeling his heart beating a little faster after having said I love you.

Ever since the day he came over when Liana was having a hard time, his heart would race and his palms would get sweaty every time he’d say those three words, knowing he meant it in a different way than he had been saying it all these years.

“Liana banana, what am I gonna do,” James sighed and bent down so he was at eye level with her. “Do you think your mom knows?”

Liana babbled a response.

“Me neither,” he sighed. “It’s okay though, cause we’re gonna have a fun day right?”

He unclipped her from the seat after fastening the baby carrier to his back to begin with before propping her up and clipping her inside.

Once he was content with that, he checked the time and noticed he was almost late for a meeting with a patient who was staying at the hospital for treatment.

James made his way down the halls, knowing not many would question him about the baby on his back, that was aside from his boss who now seemed to be walking directly towards him.

He quickly took a detour into an empty room and thinking he lost her, let out a breath only to be startled when the door opened and Cuddy was standing in front of him.

“Wilson,” she started.

“Mhmm.”

“What’s on your back?” she asked, trying to get a better look, but James simply turned around.

“Oh it’s just a backpack,” he lied, only to be immediately ratted out by Liana’s nonsensical sounds.

“You have a talking backpack?” Cuddy looked at him skeptically.

“No, it’s a tumour. I’m dying,” he lied again, even more poorly than before.

Cuddy sighed, “Are we gonna get sued for it?”

James pressed his lips together and shook his head.

“Will someone get mad at you for it?”

He shook his head again.

“Is House involved?”

A third time.

“Okay,” she nodded slowly. “I won’t question your…talking backpack tumour.”

James nodded his head and Cuddy left the room which hopefully meant he was in the clear for the rest of the day.

Liana had other ideas and decided she didn’t like being in the carrier on his back anymore and began to cry. James wondered what was different, he’d done this with her before, but perhaps it was the new environment and she just wanted to be where she could see him.

So after some maneuvering, he changed the positioning of the carrier and put Liana back inside and she seemed much more relaxed afterwards.

When he got to his patient he apologized for being late, but they were more focused on the child that James had yet to introduce.

“Sorry, I’m a little all over the place right now,” he chuckled. “This is Liana, she’s going to be joining us today.”

“Is she your daughter?” he asked, seeing the way James smiled and held her when he introduced her.

“No,” James shook his head. “She’s the daughter of one of my close friends. I’m just doing her a favour today.”

“Either way, it’s always nice to see someone smiling and happy around here.”

“Yeah, I thought so too,” James nodded.

“How old is she?”

“Six months as of two weeks ago.”

“They grow fast, don’t they?”

James smiled and nodded, “They sure do.”

They continued their consult, and before long James wrapped things up and headed back to his office to meet with another patient.

This time around he was feeding and burping Liana throughout the meeting and it felt so much like second nature to him, it didn’t take him away at all from the questions the patient was asking, and much like he expected, having a baby in the room was a nice distraction from the heavy subject matter.

He got through the next few patients with ease, and he felt lucky that House only decided to come in after all his meetings were over.

“Is that a baby?” House squinted, looking at Liana who was calmly playing with a toy in James’ lap.

“No, it’s an alien,” he deadpanned and House ignored his comment.

“Why do you have a baby? That must be breaking some hospital rule.”

“Since when do you care about rules?”

“Cause rules are there to protect us,” House said sarcastically. “Is this the one you spend all your free time with?”

“Her name is Liana,” James said while standing up and moving to put her in her car seat for a moment. “House, I’m gonna ask you to do something and I’m going to trust that you won’t blow this up in my face.”

“Go on.”

“I need to use the washroom, but you’ve seen the way they get cleaned here, I don’t want to bring Li with me,” he said. “Can you watch her for five minutes? You don’t even have to do anything, just stare at her in the carrier.”

House thought about it for a moment before eventually agreeing, James completely oblivious to his friend’s ulterior motive.

House first sat across from her, turning her car seat around on the table so it was facing him. They stared at each other for a few moments before House stood up and grabbed a picture from one of James’ shelves, sitting back down in front of her.

“You’re probably too young to do this, but never too young to learn, right?”

Liana had no response.

“You see this guy?” House pointed to James in the photo. “He’s dada, right?”

House continued to prompt her, even though he knew she was too young to speak, thinking this would make a great prank if he played his cards right.

House continued to go back and forth with Liana between her babbles, until he heard James begin to open the door of the office.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Perfect,” House nodded. “Your daughter’s an angel.”

James frowned, unable to tell if House was being sarcastic or not, but he was quickly distracted by the frame in his hand.

“Why do you have that picture?” James came closer and took it from him.

“Oh, just trying to pass the time with a story.”

“The story of what exactly? This is just a picture of me with my parents.”

“I don’t know I made something up, she’s a baby, she won’t remember,” House insisted before leaving the office before James could ask any more questions.

A little confused by the encounter, he made his way over to Liana who was reaching out for him.

He checked the time, seeing as your meeting should probably have been over by then and decided to give you a call.

“Hey, I was just about to come and pick Liana up,” you said.

“Yeah, about that, do you just want to leave her with me for the rest of the day?” he asked. “She’s been really good and honestly I think the patients have been loving seeing a baby around.”

“James, it’s fine, my meeting is over. I can come get her,” you said.

James pressed his lips together before gathering the nerve to say what he was going to say.

“I actually would really like it if she could stay with me,” he said. “If you’re okay with it.”

You paused, “This isn’t just some round about way for you to find a way to give me a break?” you asked.

“No, I’m really happy she’s here. I was going to come over after work anyways.”

“You still have the car seat hookup in your car?” you asked and he confirmed. “Okay, call me if you need anything, Jamie.”

“I will, and thank you.”

“Just don’t break her, okay, she’s not replaceable,” you teased.

“I’ll bring her back in one piece,” James chuckled. “We’ll be fine, right Li?”

James gave her a little tickle so that you could hear her laugh in response and you couldn't help but smile before saying goodbye and feeling more at ease leaving her with James than you ever had leaving her with a babysitter.

—

It always felt interesting coming back to Princeton-Plainsboro after you had given birth to Liana. It brought back a lot of memories, both good and maybe not so great of your pregnancy, but recently you and Liana had been visiting a little more often to have lunch with James when you weren’t working.

Today wasn’t one of those days, you were actually just on your way back home after running a few errands and since you were in the area you thought you might stop in and talk to James about that evening.

When you went by his office you peeked inside and noticed he wasn’t there and before you could decide the best course of action, you heard a semi familiar voice behind you.

“You looking for Wilson?”

You turned around and saw House standing in front of you.

“Yeah, actually. Do you know where he is?”

“I think he just went to Cuddy’s office,” he said.

“Alright, I’ll head back downstairs then,” you smiled and were about to haul Liana’s car seat with you, but House stopped you.

“If you want I can look after her in my office,” he said.

“Really?” you seemed a little surprised from the offer, but figured it couldn’t be too bad to leave her with him for five minutes.

“Sure,” House nodded, making it seem like it was no big deal, when really he had already pocketed a picture of James and was looking for another opportunity to continue his prank.

“Alright, I’ll be back in a few minutes,” you said while walking over to his office and putting her car seat on the main table before walking down the hallways and over to the elevator to go and find James, but just to your luck, he was coming out just as you had planned to enter. “Hey, I was looking for you,” you smiled.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were coming, did we make plans?” he asked, worried he’d forgotten about something.

“No, I was just in the area and, well my mom and dad are coming over for dinner tonight, I was wondering if you wanted to join us.”

“Dinner sounds nice,” James nodded. “And I haven’t seen your parents in a while, I just seem to miss them every time they come into town.”

“Yeah, that’s why I thought I’d ask, also maybe as a warning in case you wanted to get as far away as you could,” you chuckled.

“Come on, they’re not that bad,” he nudged you.

“Most of the time, but then again, you’re not their child.”

“Wait, where’s Liana?” James asked. “With a sitter at home?”

“No, I left her with House.”

James’ eyes went wide, “You left her with House?”

“Yeah, what’s the big deal?” you chuckled as James began to walk towards House’s office to make sure he wasn’t up to one of his many schemes. “James he offered!” you called back and that only made him walk faster.

It took you a minute to catch up with him, but by that time he was already interrogating House who was simply sitting in front of Liana.

“Can't I offer to look after my friend’s friend’s baby?” House asked.

“Usually someone could, but when that person is you you may see why I think you have some ulterior motive.”

“James what’s going on?” you asked, coming closer to House. “Liana’s fine, I don’t know why you’re being so dramatic.”

“Yeah, listen to single mom over here,” he pointed to you.

James backed off if only for your sake, but he still kept a close eye on House as you picked up Liana’s car seat and told James you’d see him after his shift was over.

He nodded his head and you exchanged a kiss on the cheek before heading out.

“You’re really telling me you’re not getting some of that on the side?” House asked.

“House, drop it,” James was unamused. “I know you’re up to something, I just don’t know what.”

“I guess you’re just going to have to wait and find out,” House shrugged. “In the meantime may I suggest you go get your freak on with the mom? You know she probably hasn’t slept with anyone since that kid was conceived, I’m sure you’d have an easy time convincing her.”

“Shut up, House,” James rolled his eyes and left the office before he could suggest anything more obscene.

He was thankful when the end of his shift came, and before heading to your place he made a stop at the store to buy some flowers and dessert to bring over.

By this point, it was such a habit, he never knocked, just opened the door with his key and announced his presence to whoever was in the house.

“Hey Liana, look who’s here,” you smiled and pointed to James while Liana was being held by your mother.

Liana became very excited at the sight of him and he quickly put down the things he brought on the table before saying his greetings and giving special attention to Liana by means of a kiss on her nose and caress of her face.

“Do you want something to drink?” you asked. “Mom and dad brought some fancy-looking sparkling fruit juice.”

“I could go for some of that,” James nodded. “How have you guys been, I missed you the last time you were in town.”

“We’ve been good,” your dad nodded.

“Unfortunately our granddaughter doesn’t come to visit us very much,” your mom gave you a bit of a look and you rolled your eyes.

“Mom, you guys are retired, I have a job, why don’t we keep this ‘you visit me’ arrangement a while longer until my life sorts itself out a bit more.”

“She’s not wrong, honey,” your dad came and patted his wife’s shoulder.

“I know, I just wish we got to see Liana more. We should come down more often.”

“What about you, James, anything new in your life?”

James looked over at you before shaking his head.

“No, still working at the same place still…”

“Trying to find the right person,” you filled in for him, placing a hand on his shoulder and handing him his drink.

“Yeah,” he nodded with a soft smile and couldn’t help but laugh a little internally at the irony. Maybe the right person had been there all along, the person he’d never once pulled away from, the person he let take care of him, the person who he’d realized he’d most definitely fallen in love with, but risking things between you was out of the question so he would have to be content with the way things were.

“You’re the head of your department, right?” your mom asked and James nodded. “Wow, that’s quite something, your parents must be proud of you.”

“Yes, it never fails to come up in conversation with my mother,” he chuckled.

Liana began to fuss a little bit in her grandmother’s arms and after a few failed attempts at calming her down James offered to take over.

“Are you sure, honey?” she asked. “She gets a bit cranky and it’s hard to calm her down.”

“Don’t worry mom, James is an expert,” you assured her.

James nodded and confirmed he was sure before gently bouncing Liana until she stopped crying and wiping away whatever tears of hers were remaining.

“She seems very attached to you,” your dad remarked and James looked down at Liana who now had her head resting against his chest.

“The feeling’s quite mutual,” James chuckled. “Does she need to be fed?” he asked you.

“Yeah we’re probably getting close to that time now, I’ll warm up the bottle. Maybe I can feed her and you can deal with the sauce on the stove, it’s missing something and I can’t place it.”

“Sure,” James nodded and waited for you to heat up Liana’s bottle before passing her over and taking a turn at the stove.

Your parents watched your interactions curiously and shared a few looks between themselves, but chose to say nothing. They’d known James since you were both nineteen and a lot of things had happened since then, but a lot of time had passed too. It was interesting how your comfort with each other in friendship had so naturally extended itself in this way that you were practically functioning as a family whether you noticed it, or maybe deliberately chose to ignore it.

After you fed Liana and burped her, she was quick to fall asleep and you placed her in her cot in your room before joining James and your parents in the kitchen where they were bringing things to the dining room to lay them out on the table.

“This looks really delicious sweetheart, thank you for making dinner,” your dad said. “And you too James for taking over there in the home stretch.”

“For all we know it could have tasted terrible before he came in so he can take the credit for that,” you chuckled.

“No, I gave it a taste before adding anything. It just needed a little something sour to balance some things out, otherwise it was perfect,” he assured you.

Dinner with your parents was mostly small talk. They shared a little about some of your relatives they had recently spoken to or visited and asked James how his family was doing and they left fairly early to start the drive back home.

“I’ll load the dishes you put away the leftovers?” James yawned and you chuckled.

“How about I do both since I had a day off and you go and lay down for a bit,” you suggested.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about I’m fine,” James waved his hand but yawned again.

“Go to sleep, James. That’s not a suggestion,” you walked up to him. “My ex left some sweatpants here you can change into those and take off this button up,” you tugged at his shirt.

James pressed his lips together and nodded his head, before heading over to the bedroom and quietly getting changed before climbing into bed and not fighting the sleep that came.

He initially wasn’t sure how much later it was when he woke up, but by the looks of it much too late to go come considering you were next to him, despite being groggy, he had a million and one things crossing his mind, but all of those were thrown out when he heard Liana begin to cry.

You shifted next to him, waking up to go and take care of it, but James put an arm on your shoulder.

“I’ve got it, go back to sleep,” he assured you.

You were too tired to argue with him and let your head hit the pillow again while he stood up and picked Liana up from her crib, heading out to the kitchen so he could heat up a bottle for her before coming back and sitting in the chair to feed her.

You watched the scene in front of you and you felt yourself wanting to memorize every detail. How he held her, the quiet things he whispered, the way she curled into his arms while he stood up and rocked her back to sleep.

When he came back to the bed he noticed you were awake and he let out a soft chuckle and you smiled looking up at him with his messy hair. Suddenly you were nineteen again and banging on the door of cabin 3 trying to wake your fellow counsellor to come and deal with an emergency. To you he looked the same as he did all those years ago.

“I told you to go back to sleep.”

“Not everyone can fall asleep instantly,” you yawned with a chuckle.

“You didn’t wake me up to leave,” he said quietly, his head resting on his hand that propped him up.

“You always look so peaceful when you sleep, I feel evil whenever I have to wake you up,” you remarked, but behind your eyes if he could see through the darkness of the room, he would have seen them saying something else. That you wanted him to stay, you didn’t want to wake him up because you wanted to wake up next to him. “You don’t mind do you?”

“That you’re making me do the walk of shame in the morning?” James teased and shook his head.

“Just shut up and go back to sleep, Jamie,” you yawned with a chuckle.

He moved so he was laying down on his back with an arm behind his head and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. Maybe he could feel you staring because he reached his other arm out and pulled you closer and you moved with him until your head rested against his chest, your arm draped over top of him.

He gave you a gentle squeeze with the arm that was wrapped around you and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Goodnight, Jamie,” you mumbled into his shirt.

You couldn’t see how he looked down and smiled at you after you said that, all that filled your ears was a quiet, “Goodnight.”

—

“I haven’t seen you in a few days, how have you been?”

James sat on the carpet of the living room, playing with Liana who was crawling around him while you brought over two mugs of tea so you could chat while you entertained the growing baby.

“Good for the most part, just had a patient who wasn’t doing so great so I spent some extra time at the hospital to keep an eye on things. Not to mention House has been bugging me to go out and it’s been a while so I figured what’s the harm.”

“He got you plastered and you made a fool of yourself, didn’t he?” you asked and James nodded while you laughed. “Liana, did James go out with House and act like an idiot?” you tickled the ten month old and she giggled before coming closer to you, tapping on your legs with her hands.

“Don’t listen to your mama, Li, she’s trying to-,”

“Mama,” Liana repeated after James had spoken and you both stopped dead in your tracks.

You looked over at James and his smile was just as wide as yours before you picked Liana up and smothered her with kisses.

“Liana, look at you! You said your first word!”

“Good job, Liana banana,” James grinned and gave her cheek a little pinch which made her reach out to him and say,

“Dada.”

You both had a similar reaction to what happened moments ago, only this time it was pure shock. Maybe you had misheard her, but when she repeated herself, James could feel his heart drop to the pit of his stomach.

“I-I don’t know where she learnt that from,” he told you. “I swear I didn’t teach her that.”

It took a minute for the shock to fade away for you, but once it did you tried to assure James that it was okay.

“I believe you,” you said. “I-I don’t know where she picked it up from, but it’s okay.”

James chewed on his lip, it wasn’t okay though because he wanted nothing more than to hear Liana say that again.

“It’s not though,” James said softly. “I love her, but I’m not her dad. That’s not fair to her or to you.”

“Jamie,” you pleaded with him, but he still seemed stuck on something.

“I’m really sorry,” he apologized again. “I feel like I ruined a special moment.”

“I’m trying to tell you it really doesn’t matter,” you assured him, you could see it in his eyes, he wanted to leave, to let you have time alone, but you didn’t want to be alone, you wanted him to stay with you. “Please…please stay.”

James reached out his hand to hold yours and was about to give you his answer when his pager went off.

Your heart clenched and you watched as he read the message and sighed, standing up because he was needed again at the hospital.

“Your patient?” you asked, picking Liana up and standing next to him.

He nodded his head, “They were scheduled for an unrelated surgery and there were some complications, I have to go.”

You understood and James wrapped you in a tight hug and you kissed his cheek.

“I love you, Jamie.”

“I love you too,” he whispered, wishing he could hold onto you and never let you go, but instead he was pulled away from your warm embrace wondering how on earth Liana had learnt to call him dad.

—

“You look like you haven’t slept in days, spending time with the baby again?” House asked, waltzing into James’ office.

“No, I haven't been over in a few days,” James shook his head.

“You haven’t been over in a few days…Something happened,” House deduced and James gave him a look.

“Nothing happened. I’m just taking a break,” he lied.

“You’ve been going non-stop to spend time with them since the baby was born ten months ago, why do you need a break now?”

“Because I have a lot on my mind and there’s a few new patients I need to focus on-,”

“You’re lying.”

“Yes I am,” James admitted and House grinned.

“Really?”

“No, I’m not,” he shook his head and continued to look down and do his work.

“We do this every single time and every single time I’m right,” House said. “Why don’t we save the back and forth for another time and just skip to the part where you tell me what’s going on.”

“Oh really and you were right that time you thought I was cheating on my wife and she was the one cheating on me?” he asked.

“Okay, so I’m not perfect,” House shrugged. “What happened, Wilson? I could just as easily get your friend’s number and ask directly if that’s what you’d prefer.”

“God no,” James shook his head. “Leave her alone, she doesn’t need to deal with you on top of working and raising a child.”

“Alright then, what happened?”

James took a deep breath and sighed, “Liana called me dad the other day. I have no idea where she learnt it from.”

“She started speaking,” House nodded, pressing his lips together. “Was it her first word or-,”

“Second. She said mom first,” James said, but caught a glimpse of his friend trying to fight back a smile and suddenly all the offers to take care of Liana paired with the photographs made sense. “You taught her!” he exclaimed. “House I can’t believe you’d pull a prank on me by manipulating my friend’s baby!”

“Oh come on, it’s not that big of a deal,” House rolled his eyes.

“House, I cannot believe you!”

“You’re not mad at me,” House shook his head. “You’re just mad you liked it.”

“No I’m-,”

“Yes, you are,” the diagnostician emphasized. “You’ve been sitting here tearing yourself apart for the past four days because she called you dad and you liked it. You’re mad at yourself for liking it because she’s not your kid.”

“No,” James quieted down. “She’s not.”

“You haven’t gone back because you’re afraid to hear her say it again, aren’t you?”

“Since when did you become an expert on my personal problems, House? You caused this, why should I listen to anything you have to say?”

“Because you’re being an idiot. You’re punishing yourself for liking something. Do you realize how insane that sounds?”

“It’s not insane, House, she’s not my baby-,”

“Sure, she’s not your baby and you have her feeding and nap routine memorized. You’ve been to her doctor's appointments, she’s calmer in your arms than she is in the arms of her grandparents. Yeah, go and tell that to any moron sitting out there and they’ll tell you for me, you’re being an idiot.”

James sighed again, “And why do you care?”

“Because once you’re done with this spiral we can go back to the way things were when you weren’t a boring depressed lump.”

“How kind of you,” James faked a smile.

House’s pager went off, leaving James alone again in his office, thinking about what his friend had said.

You’d told him so many times that things were okay, but maybe a part of him didn’t want to let him believe that you didn’t mind because that was a slippery slope to him facing himself and his feelings and he didn’t care what his heart was telling him, he wouldn’t put himself through that. He wouldn’t put you and Liana through that. But at the same time, he couldn’t keep himself away forever. He didn’t want that either.

So with a deep breath he picked up his office phone and dialled your number, putting it up to his ear and waiting for the line to connect on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

“James,” your voice sounded almost relieved. “H-Hey, how are you?”

He pressed his lips together, “Miserable, actually. I miss you guys.”

“We miss you too,” you chuckled with a small sniffle.

“C-Can I come over for dinner tonight?” he asked.

“You still have a key, what do you think?” you asked with a bit of a laugh. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yeah, see you then,” James smiled and after he hung up the phone he took a deep breath, his fast heartbeat slowing down by the second.

Maybe this time House was right.

—

The next few weeks passed by and things resumed to their normal state, much to House’s delight. James’ role as department head always meant at least one day a week where he would stay late and do some extra paperwork, dealing with anything that may have slipped through the cracks before.

This time, that had fallen on a Sunday and it was just past dinner when he heard a knock on his door and wondering who was on the other end he called for them to come in.

You opened the door a crack and again asked permission to come in and James smiled at you, looking up from his paperwork, not expecting to see you in the hospital.

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting to see you here, what’s going on?”

“I just wanted to drop by and bring you something for dinner, I know it’s your paperwork day.”

“Thanks, that’s really sweet of you,” he stood up from his chair and came to stand in front of his desk, leaning back on it while you placed the take out bag on the table. “Where’s Liana?”

“Oh Helen’s looking after her tonight,” you said. “I had a few things I needed to do and um just wanted the evening off,” you admitted.

“Fair enough,” James nodded.

“I actually brought you something else,” you rolled back and forth on the balls of your feet and James noticed the tension in your stature. “H-Here,” you handed him a gift bag which he eyed curiously.

Today wasn’t his birthday or some memorable event you celebrated together. There wasn’t much of a reason to get him a present which made it all the more intriguing.

He pulled out a wrapped rectangular box from the bag, and putting the bag aside he began to carefully tear away the wrapping paper to reveal what looked like a picture frame. Overlaid on the frame, on top of the photo, James noticed a card which he unfolded to read its contents.

Happy Father’s Day. We love you loads. - Liana and Mom

James moved the card to see the picture and put his hand over his mouth, feeling tears involuntarily form in his eyes as he saw the familiar scene of your room, lit by the light of your lamp as Liana was fast asleep against his chest while he napped on the armchair.

James quickly wiped away the few tears that were in his eyes and looked up at you with a grateful smile, looking back down at the image before placing it neatly on his desk along with the card.

“I hope you like it,” you said quietly, biting your lip. “I thought you might want to have a copy of that picture and…you know just a thank you for everything you’ve done for me and Liana this past year.”

“I love it,” he assured you. “I-I love it and I love you.”

“I love you too,” you smiled.

“N-No,” James came closer and reached out, taking your hands in his. “I…I love you. I’m in love with you.”

“Jamie,” you spoke in a breathy whisper, unsure of how you lost your voice. “I-,” you opened your mouth to speak again, but paused when James raised a hand to your face, wiping away the tears you didn’t even notice had begun to stream down.

“I just don’t want to be away from you, ever,” he said softly. “I never did. And now with Liana, I want to be there, for all of it.”

You held the wrist of his hand that held your face, pulling him in closer so your foreheads rested against each other.

You took in a shaky breath, thinking back on those words. Something you’d been saying to each other for longer than you could remember. The first time was so clear in your mind, you were on the phone racking up long distance charges while James was in Montreal. It had slipped out by accident, a reflex, and you had convinced yourself when the phone had hung up you’d never call him back, unable to face what you’d just said, but before you could spiral any further, he said it back and you never stopped saying it.

For the longest time that was the only occurrence that was memorable, everything else was a blur, that was until a few months ago. It was so simple, you had fallen asleep on the couch and James had made sure Liana was fed and bathed and even cleared up some things in the kitchen before sitting on the couch with some tea and a book. You had talked and said I love you as a thank you, but when the words left your mouth they also left a lingering airiness in your heart, a feather light feeling that came crashing down like an anvil when he left to go home because you realized you never wanted to be apart from him.

It took you a few moments to realize you hadn’t said anything and James was anxiously waiting for some sort of communication, anything, but since the meaning of your words had changed, for both of you, you thought it might be more conducive to work in actions.

You closed in the space between you, at first gently resting your lips on his and letting him lead you in a soft and slow kiss, putting aside all the restraint you both had been using these past months in an effort to protect your friendship.

One of James’ hands held onto your waist, pulling you in so that there was no space left between you. He kissed you again and again, remembering each one as a core memory, engraved in his mind, paired with the feeling of your arms wrapped around his neck, the feeling of your body pressed so closely against his, his heart beating outside of his chest.

It was easy for his lips to trail away from yours, moving along your jaw, to your temple before you had pulled each other into a warm embrace, simply existing in each other’s arms. James thought to himself what a nice life it would be, not ever having to pull away.

—

“I don’t have much to say,” James smiled. “Everything is looking good, you still seem 100% healthy to me.”

“That’s great news.”

“It definitely is. Standard procedure, but we’ll have one more of these remission follow ups to make sure everything is still in order then you hopefully won’t have to see me again.”

“Thank you Dr. Wilson, I really appreciate all you’ve-.”

“Dad!”

“Sweetheart, wait he’s with a patient!”

James turned his head and saw Liana running over to him, you valiantly trying to chase after her without much success.

He quickly scooped her up in his arms before she crashed into him, pressing a big kiss to her cheek.

“Sorry about that,” James apologized. “It’s Saturday, we normally have lunch together.”

“No worries,” he chuckled.

“Liana, this is my patient Mr. Kimbilio, can you say hi?”

Liana waved and said hi, very exuberantly.

“This is my daughter,” James introduced. “And that’s my wife,” he pointed over to you.

“Daughter,” Mr. Kimbilio smiled. “I think I met you Liana, when you were very small. Your father was looking after you at work and so some of his patients got to meet you.”

“Really?” she looked up at her dad and he nodded.

“He’s right, I remember that,” James smiled. ��You’ve grown a lot since then, haven’t you Li,” he kissed her cheek again and she giggled.

You finally caught up to the group and James greeted you with a quick kiss, passing Liana off to you so he could wrap things up and you could all go down to the cafeteria for lunch together.

“If I remember correctly,” Mr. Kimbilio started. “You didn’t introduce her as your daughter the first time we met. I’m glad something changed.”

“Me too,” James smiled, looking over at his wife and daughter fondly who were now in the midst of making him very proud by pulling off a small prank on House as he came out of his office.

It didn’t take much longer for them to wrap things up and you and Liana made a quick pit stop inside James’ office before heading downstairs.

Liana went to go sit in James’ seat while he put away his files and organized them.

It had been a while since you’d been in his office, but it felt like ever since the night you first kissed things had begun to change in the room.

His desk was now more littered with photos than knickknacks and Liana’s artwork was posted wherever there was room.

You came around to the other side, looking a little more closely at the pictures.

There was one of you, James, and Liana on your wedding day, another of just the two of you during an anniversary celebration, Liana’s kindergarten photo from school and another one of you as a family on your last vacation. And still as prominent as ever, the framed photo you had gifted James on his first father’s day.

“You ready to go?” he asked you, looking up and noticing your eyes gazing at the pictures on his desk.

When you didn’t initially respond, too focused on what you were looking at, James wrapped an arm around you and tilted your chin towards him so he could press a kiss to your lips.

“I love you,” you smiled and James kissed you again, saying.

“And I love you,” before moving over to pick up Liana and kiss her cheek. “And you.”

Liana giggled, feeling tickled by the kisses and moving to give both of you a kiss on the cheek before saying.

“Mom, Dad, I’m starving. Can we go eat now?”

“Sure, Liana banana,” James chuckled and you wrapped an arm around him, walking side by side out of the office and in the direction of the elevator to get to the cafeteria, thinking you were pretty lucky that in the end, your best friend listened to his heart and went after what he wanted.

TAGLIST —

@cuntyvicodin @paola-carter @kiddbegins @il0vebeingdelulu @illicit4ff4irs @lynnsthoughts @miarabanana @iwmflbb @shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey @sarcasm-and-stiles @sun-flower-mad @x-uno @han11dh @qardasngan @alexxavicry

#james wilson #james wilson x reader #james wilson x you #james wilson fanfiction #james wilsonf anfic #james wilson fic #dr wilson #dr wilson x reader #dr wilson x you #house md #house md fanfiction #house md x reader #robert sean leonard

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koolades-world · 2 months ago

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So, request for the Obey me boys (main and side). When I'm emotionally stressed or overwhelmed, I get the urge to clean (especially if my space has been needing it). So, how would they react to an MC spontaniously cleaning anything and everything in that sort of state (Dishes, Floors, surfaces, their own room, etc)?

hi! sure thing!

i relate to this on such a deep level. it's when i get my best cleaning done LOL. having a crisis? suddenly the room is the best it's looked in months

posting this instead of spellbound because getting my car took much longer than I expected. spellbound will be tomorrow for sure :)

enjoy <3

Mc who spontaneously cleans

Lucifer

he may just have to marry you on the spot

his brothers aren’t exactly the cleanest bunch and sometimes he feels like he’s the only one making an effort

he might cry if he comes downstairs one morning and the kitchen is sparkling

Mammon

if he’s not the messiest bitch ever… no shade but there’s no way his room doesn’t look like it was hit by a tornado

however if he ever sees you cleaning he'll try his best to help

he will also try his best to keep things tidy to make it less work for you <3

Levi

I can’t explain it but something about him screams neat freak to me

but, this only applies to his spaces because it would be too much work

he applauded your efforts because more than once he’s cracked and just deep cleaned everything haha

Satan

he’s clean when he wants to be

and most of the time, he is. the only times he isn’t is to piss off lucifer even though he’s just going to drag him back to do it anyways

after seeing how hard you work, he never does that again haha. he would hate for you to have to pick up after him

Asmo

somehow clean but messy at the same time

he won't stop you if you want to go to town cleaning up his makeup pallets and what not

afterwards though he makes sure to treat you <3

Beel

definitely the guy that takes three plus showers a day lol

he always asks you to make sure he's picking up after himself though just in case

he appreciates you and everything you do :)

Belphie

if you think he's tidy, i am so sorry you are wrong haha

will complain about an area being dirty and then proceed to ask why you were cleaning it up

however he will thank you every time he notices you've tidied up :)

Diavolo

despite the fact that he has a whole team that cleans for him, he hates to leave behind a mess

so, he always insists you get him when you get the urge to clean

everything is better when you have someone by your side! besides, he'll take any excuse to be by your side

Barbatos

you know him, he’s incredibly tidy to the point that it’s almost impossible to find a mess in the demon lord’s palace

but in the rare cause you’ve beat him to it, he’s grateful since it’s rare he gets help

afterward, you’ll be having tea together, his treat

Simeon

he also seems like his things are always clean no matter what

it's almost like he's magic at the rate at which messes vanish

he will feel bad if he sees you cleaning, and will take over

Luke

both of his dads (simebarb sorry for kinda sneaking this narrative in here lol) are both neat people, so it only makes sense for him to be too

after all, he wants to be just like them!

if he catches you cleaning, he will instantly join in

Solomon

he seems like he would live realistically, not too dirty, but also not too clean

if things are a little cluttered, he's alright with it because it looks lived in

if you do spontaneously clean, he'll try his best to make it up to you with his cooking!!

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hedgehog-moss · 5 months ago

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I finally planted my garden last week! We had a couple of days of sun which gave me hope, but it's once again raining every day. Thoughts and prayers for my tomato plants, but I couldn't keep everyone in the greenhouse forever, I had to make room for other plants.

(In the fourth picture above you can see what's inside the hügelkultur mound—it's a pile of branches + llama manure + compost + potting soil. One thing I find great about it is how well it retains moisture! Well it's not a problem this year so far but during heat waves I water these plants a lot less than non-mound plants.)

In the greenhouse my seedlings have been struggling due to lack of sun. Impossible to get courgette plants so I had to buy a few from the young couple in town who recently started a plant nursery—they didn't have many either, and I had to share with the mayor who also came looking for courgette plants because slugs devoured all of his.

He must have seen on my face that I thought my plants didn't stand a chance if slugs don't even respect municipal authority, because he kindly advised me to place crowns of bedstraw (see above) around my plants to protect them. I didn't dare to ask "If it works so well why do you have no courgette plants left?" I just said thank you, and then spent an entire evening last week weaving this sticky weed into crowns and whatsapping photos of my art to the mayor, who always replied "More! More! It needs to be thicker! Like a doughnut!"

Meanwhile 1 leek in the greenhouse suddenly grew a lot thicker while the other 3 remained skinny and fearful-looking and I'm not sure why. They share a pot, so maybe it's like vanishing twin syndrome. My bell pepper seeds had the same asynchronous development issue—one pot is just now starting to have timid seedlings while the other (right next to it) already contains a grown-up plant with baby peppers:

By far my happiest greenhouse plants are the potatoes and lettuce. They shot up so fast! I've been eating a lot of lettuce lately but I can't keep up with how quickly they grow in this cold, rainy spring. And I haven't had any slug raids in the greenhouse so that's great.

My greenhouse squash, onions and pickles are still tiny and not worth a photo (harsh, but this post already has too many photos). My strawberries in the aquaponic towers are beautiful despite the lack of sun and I've been getting mini-harvests of 2-3 strawberries a day for two weeks! They're done now, but I started more seeds so maybe I can get a second round at the end of the month.

Three more things:

1. Morille helped a lot as I was planting the garden. She kept an eye on my gardening tools so no one would steal them, and sometimes used them as cheek-scratchers. At one point I put one of my beautiful bedstraw crowns around her neck so she looked like Philip III of Spain in that painting where he wears a big ruff, but tragically she ran away in outrage before I could take a picture, and when she returned she'd got rid of her collar.

2. At the cow parade the other day there was a lady at the market who sold jars of homemade pesto sauce made from all kinds of different plants, and it opened up my mind to entirely new pesto horizons!! I always make the traditional kind with basil, but I have plants that grow much faster than basil, like my rocket, so I tried making pesto with 1/3 basil 2/3 rocket (plus garlic, olive oil, parmesan, cashews) and it was so good! I have to explore all of her recipes now, like plantain or nettle or sage pesto...

3. There's a monster in the greenhouse. It appeared practically overnight and is quickly claiming more and more territory. Unlike last year it's not a parsley monster—it's my lemon balm. One day it was growing in its vertical tower, luxuriant but tidy, like a normal plant, and the next it had quintupled in volume and was threatening to swallow the nearest planter. Look at the tiny tomato plants, they look terrified of it!

I urgently need to fight back against this giant mélisse (as we call lemon balm) but I've been really busy and I keep putting it off, and then remembering anxiously at 11pm that I still have this creature to take care of, which is ironic seeing as lemon balm is supposed to relieve stress and anxiety. This is the exact opposite of why I planted you. Anyway if you never hear from me again after this post it's because I finally engaged in battle against this year's vegetal menace, and lost.

#crawling along

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ivymarquis · 6 months ago

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Happiness is a Butterfly

It's been literal months since I read @ceilidho's divorce AU and guess what it is still rattling around in my brain because it is just scrumptious.

This is what I vanished to work on lol

Pairing| John Price x F!Reader Rating| E Word Count| 10.6k Kinks/Content/Warnings| 3rd person reader, Post Divorce John Price x Wife!Reader, Attempting to co parent, John is obnoxiously agreeable until he no longer wants to be, there is the s l i g h t e s t mention where reader is worried John might snap but he doesn't scout's honor, squirting, unprotected PiV, blow job, face sitting, unplanned pregnancy, childbirth, reproductive coercion if you squint, baby trapping if you squint, it is a lil dubby because John doesn't do anything behind Reader's back but he steamrolls the fuck out of her into getting what he wants lmao

The words choke in her throat like they don’t want to leave.

Maybe that’s a higher power giving her just one last out to change her mind- to not say the four words that will upend the lives of everyone in the household.

She can barely bring herself to look at him.

In the decade they’ve been married his temper has never been something she’s been afraid of, but in that moment it is all she can think about; every headline she’s ever read of a soldier snapping and killing his wife and children floating in her mind like a neon sign flashing danger.

She’s never feared his temper but she’s also never croaked out the words I want a divorce to him before either.

Her arms cross over her body as her gaze settles a bit off to the side of him. Everything about her body language is closed off and cagey as he looks up from his desk- no doubt having been mentally preparing for another round of come to bed, love - in a minute darling, almost done only to be caught off guard by the actual request.

He doesn’t answer her as he sits back in his chair, looking at her.

She chooses now to choke out the words because she really doesn’t think she has it in her to say the words with him standing. He’s sitting- still imposing as ever even if he’s always been magnanimous around the house- and she’s on the other side of the room avoiding eye contact.

He stands, still silent as the grave, before walking towards her in slow, measured steps and coming to a halt right in front of her. The ground has become absolutely fascinating as she refuses to meet his gaze.

As his hand raises she imperceptibly starts to shift, but absolutely nothing escapes John’s notice. “Don’t,” he starts before clearing his throat, his tone softer as he speaks again, “Don’t do that. You know me better than that.”

This time she doesn’t move as he goes to cup her face- takes her chin in hand and forces her head up. “Look me in the eye and say it again.”

It takes a moment for her to scrape together her nerves, eyes picking up off the floor to meet his. She’s not sure entirely what she expected but she thinks she assumed there’d be more of a reaction. He’s watching her- thinking- as she stumbles over the words.

Doubt twists in her gut as once again she squeaks out “I want a divorce.”

“Is there someone else?” he asks evenly.

“No! John I’d never-” It’s true; ever since he’d turned her head all those years ago she’s been blind where other men are concerned.

“Okay,” he soothes with his thumb against her cheek and she’s suddenly aware that this is probably not how this conversation should be going. “I believe you. Are you sure this is what you want?”

She’s been agonizing over this for months. She’s not even sure what gauntlet was thrown down to make her say enough is enough and have today be the day. Nothing spectacular has happened.

Maybe that’s reason enough. His job is always just the higher priority. While he always ensures his family is cared for while away, he drops everything for work in a way that simply isn’t reciprocated at home. Even when he’s physically here he spends so much time locked in this damn office he might as well be back at base.

Nothing has changed after begging and pleading and she is tired with a bone weary ache.

Are you sure this is what you want? Echos in her head while he awaits an answer.

“Yes.” No. “I’m so tired of being alone,” she confesses. “I’m tired of constantly having to beg you to be here even when you’re home. If I am going to be by myself raising the boys then I just need to be by myself.”

He doesn’t seem surprised by the words in the slightest. Probably because they’ve been having the same argument for years. This is not the first time she’s been frustrated with his job.

“Okay,” she can’t believe her ears with his easy acceptance. “If this is what you want, then okay.”

She sobs- alone- in their bed like the entire situation isn’t her fault, burying her face in the bedding to stifle herself from the kids. John’s gone.

Everything goes about as smoothly as it can. John doesn’t fight her on anything. With his schedule there’s no point in ironing out a visitation schedule through the courts. They agree to just work it out when they can, given how he can be called away at a moment’s notice.

They’re adults. They can handle this.

Once her nerves settle from the initial shock of actually saying the words to him, and she’s had a few days to think on his reaction, she decides she’s pissed.

The easy acceptance ruffles her feathers in a way she can’t put to words. She gave him a decade of her life, a home, three children- has kept everything running seamlessly while he jumped in and out of their lives to answer the call of duty and he didn’t even try to fight for her.

If he was being sullen or grouchy with her it would be easier to process everything- all the things set into motion that she started.

Perhaps she’s projecting. But he just acts like nothing is amiss as he comes by to pick up the boys or drop them off or just stop by to spend time with them.

She wakes up on the 15th and right on time she is awoken by a ding from her phone.

Perhaps, she thinks, it is a lapse in judgment to kick him out for not being around, given that she’s now cut into what already little time he has to spend with them. Isn’t that the focus of her argument? That it’s too difficult for the boys?

Their boys- three of them, each one a head taller than the last- are understandably devastated and struggling to deal with very big, very complex feelings that result in major meltdowns and fights. They blame her and they’re not wrong.

Then one day, when old habits die hard and she confides in John tearfully one day as he’s returned from his latest deployment to see them, while she can’t say it stops all together she can say there’s a marked improvement when they come back.

What did he tell them?

Her phone dings on the 1st like it always does every other week and her agitation is palpable.

She doesn’t even need to look at the notification.

John isn’t missing a beat this entire time and he’s driving her crazy.

The notification is from the bank, of an entirely too large deposit to an account that only she has access to. John’s name is not on it and he can’t touch anything in it.

He can however put money in it.

He is as steadfast and agreeable as always while stubborn enough to just bulldoze into getting his way.

She knows she should be grateful. That so many ex husbands abandon their children and former wives in favor of some shiny new girlfriend. That it would be so easy for him to throw her “if I'm going to be by myself then I'm going to be by myself” back in her face.

Her career had been put on hold with the boys. When everyone was older and in school and didn’t need her so much the plan had been to go back. And then John had kept putting babies in her and the timeline got pushed further back with the subsequent births of their two youngest children.

It would have been so easy for him to tell her to just figure it out herself, that this is what she wants and she can navigate life on her own just fine.

Instead he deposits entirely too much money into an account he can’t access.

She’s not sure why today is different, but she hits her limit and calls him. They’ve never actually spoken about his little transactions.

“You alright, then, love?” She remembers deciding to pick her battles and not harp that she’s not his love anymore.

“What are you doing?”

There’s a brief pause.

“…I’m on base? About to take my lunch, actually. Maybe you can -“ she cuts him off before he can get any further.

“I’m not calling to ask about your day and you know it,” she snaps irritably. “I’m asking about the deposit. What are you doing?”

John, once upon a time, used to tease about his spoiled, hot headed wife. She knows she is being the epitome of spoiled and ungrateful but come on- no one is this agreeable about a divorce. She doesn’t trust it.

“I have no idea what you mean, love.” He assures her good naturedly.

“You have no idea how several thousands have been deposited into my account?”

She wants to reach through the phone to strangle him when she hears that even tempered laugh of his.

“I know how the money got deposited, love- I did it myself. I don��t know why you’re questioning my motives. We both know you haven’t worked outside the home in years- you need money to keep everything going.”

“John, it's too much. I know you know how much I spend in a month!”

He sighs. She can picture him sitting at his desk on base. Sprawled out in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t want you making decisions out of desperation.” He responds evenly. “The plan wasn’t for you to go to work until the youngest one’s in school next year. You’ve been out of the market for years, I can only imagine an employer trying to use that to short change you.”

He lets out a sigh, and she feels something akin to guilt for freaking out on him.

John’s always been the one to make the best out of a shit situation. To try to steady the boat in the storm. Even when his own wife (ex wife) is the one making waves.

“I don’t want you making decisions out of desperation,” he repeats. “I just want you to be able to raise the boys comfortably without worrying about making ends meet.”

The something coils tighter in her gut.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes.

“You’re alright, sweetheart,” he assures her and once again she has to bite back a not your sweetheart anymore.

“Now,” there’s the slightest shift to his tone and feels herself falling back into old habits again. As keyed in to him as a dog awaiting her master’s command. “What I was going to say earlier- I’m about to take my lunch. I would appreciate it if you could bring me the boys. I’d like to see them today.”

She can’t very well tell him no now can she?

The boys are her heart and soul but she sees them for exactly who they are- three rambunctious little spitfires always up to something. Good boys, but curious and mischievous. The curse of having smart children.

Until they’re on base at least. All three are quiet as church mice, gathered behind their mother and peering at the soldiers from behind her skirt.

She can’t truly correct the guards at the gate when they greet her as Mrs. Price- she hasn’t changed her name and isn’t sure if she’s going to.

It’s not hers anymore, but it’s still her boys’ name and things are easier. She’d likely have to retrain herself to respond to her maiden name.

The boys are hot on her heels until they stumble across John- as soon as he sees them, dropping a knee with open arms the trio are off like a shot as peals of “Daddy!!” fill the air.

“You can just call me after you’ve finished lunch and I can come get them,” she states amicably, watching John as he wrangles the three of them. The sooner she can get out of here, the better off she’ll be (because God help her, watching him with their oldest two was how she ended up pregnant with the third, and watching him with them now just makes her yearn for something she no longer has any claim to).

Immediately the three boys are protesting, albeit not quite as vocally as they normally would.

“Mummy, no!” “Mum!” “But it’ll be fun!” the trio state their cases to varying degrees.

John shushes the three of them gently to keep them from winding up too much before turning to her. “Come on now, sweetheart, for old time’s sake, hm?”

Their little three stooges voice their approval of that idea, chiming in with various degrees of “Yeah!”

Ultimately it’s the desire to keep her children complacent that has her agreeing. She doesn’t want a scene.

Unfortunately, a (albeit mild) scene is what she ends up having anyway.

She knows (is hopeful, at least) that her oldest doesn’t mean anything by it while they’re waiting for their food and asks “So what time are we going to nana’s later?”

Her eyes snap to him about the same moment as John’s snaps to her, and she’s deliberately trying to avoid his gaze.

Why, oh why, could he not have asked either before or after lunch?

“We’ll probably get ready after we go back home.” she’s careful to keep her tone neutral.

“How fun,” Ah shit, she can hear the suspicion in John’s voice. “Any reason in particular, or just a fun weekend?”

“Just for the night. Mum’s picking us up tomorrow. Right Mum?”

The server chooses that moment to bring their food, which gives her a moment to figure out how the fuck she’s gonna weasle out of this conversation.

“Yes, I’ll come get you after breakfast.”

“Could have called me.”

“That didn’t seem appropriate. They’ll be fine with my mum.” Her gaze drops to her plate, knowing full well if she looks up that his eyes will lock on hers.

“Don’t see what’s inappropriate about me watching my own kids.”

It’s not that she’s happy to squabble with John where the kids have a front row seat, but there is a dark part of her that delights in watching him. He has been obnoxiously agreeable this entire time and the cracks are showing. It makes her feel like she’s dealing with another human being, because she knows she’s got her moments where she loses her mind during all of this and it’s beyond frustrating that he is so dauntless no matter the circumstances in every situation.

“It’s not-” Jesus, does she tell him? What does that conversation look like? “I have plans tonight.”

John is not a stupid man and she can see the moment he realizes she’s not planning a girl’s night out for herself.

That she hadn’t thought it appropriate to ask him to take the kids so she can go on a date with another man.

“I’m watching them,” he asserts before returning to his plate.

“John-”

“I said I’m watching them,” his tone is softer, but leaves no room for argument. Conversation over.

There’s nothing wrong with her date. He is well mannered and polite, attentive when she speaks. No obvious red flags- he doesn’t dismiss her stories, doesn’t shirk back at the mention of her three children, isn’t rude to the server and isn’t texting on his phone opposed to actually engaging with her.

There is nothing wrong with him and for an idle moment she pictures what her could have been like had she married a man like him instead of John. The 9-5, the set routine, the security and reliability of knowing that he is coming home at his regular time and he’ll be there for the boys various sports and activities.

And yet all she can think of is John, who is sitting in their home, watching their children. Of the late night returns from deployment where they’d have their stolen alone time- quiet as church mice so as not to wake the boys who most assuredly would not be going back to sleep if they knew their father was home.

Of the delighted squeals of their children when they come into the room to wake her for breakfast only to find him in bed like nothing was amiss.

(And yes there was always the heartbreak that followed him walking out the door, the anxiety between phone calls that would brew until she once again could assess that he is alive and not dying blown to bits on the other side of the world)

There is nothing wrong with her date but he is not John, and that is an obstacle he will never be able to overcome.

She is safely deposited on her doorstep with polite pleasantries. She thinks he knows, has a kind smile and understanding eyes as she carefully tells him I’m sorry, I thought I was ready but I don’t think I am.

Someone will recognize him as a catch but John never let go of the hold on her heart. Someone will want this man but all she wants is John.

It’s not as late as she thought it would be when she comes home- a fact that John immediately comments on when her eyes land on him while searching for him.

“Well that didn’t last long.” The air feels different from before she left home, and she stands stock still as he rises off the couch and strides towards her.

“I,” she starts and stops, choking on the words. Why the hell did she ever agree to letting him babysit again?

Yes he’s the father of her children and yes she wants him to spend time with them whenever possible but this is just so incredibly awkward for her.

“I don’t think I’ll be seeing him again,” she finishes lamely.

“I would imagine not, if the date ended that quickly. We were always out for hours, weren’t we sweetheart?”

She can’t quite get a read on him but the entire tone of the conversation is… odd. Hell, the entire conversation is odd.

John is not one of her girlfriends for her to cheekily report back how her date went. He’s her ex husband for God’s sake.

“We were,” she agrees amicably- mind spinning with memories of the various times they had stumbled into bed early in the morning, or crawled into the backseat of John’s car like horny teenagers or-

One moment her thoughts are full of the various times John had folded her up like a piece of paper, and the next she’s aware that he’s closed the distance between them while she’s distracted.

“Makes me wonder if that was your plan all along,” he ponders out loud. She squeaks in protest, rooted to the ground and not even attempting to put more space between them.

“Was it? Having me home with the kids while you were out with another man?” His tone holds far more warmth than one would expect of a man all but accusing his (ex) wife of being a hotwife.

John’s hands grip at either side of her hips, thumbs rubbing in affectionate circles. She doesn’t quite know what to do with her own- she can feel the shift in the room. She hasn’t been with anyone since the last time they slept together, and there’s only so much fucking herself can due to take the edge off.

She can’t mimic the weight of a man’s body on top of hers- of his voice rumbling in her ears, the body heat radiating off of him as he coaxes one orgasm after another out of her.

She doesn’t want just a man though, in the broad scope of the term. It’s John.

He stops stroking at her before making a few deliberate swipes. It dawns on her that he’s feeling at the seam of her lingerie set underneath her dress.

“What’s this?” He asks, hands roaming and squeezing at her sides- possibly seeing if he can gauge which set is hidden away by feeling how the fabric wraps around her.

It’s a new one. While she hadn’t been sure about sleeping with her date, the thought of wearing lingerie that at one point had been meant for John felt wrong.

There’s a part of her willing to admit that at the rate things are going, he’s likely going to be christening this one also by the end of the night.

“Were you planning on showing this to him?” John’s enjoying torturing her- dangling the man she wasn’t ever all that interested in just to bait her.

“No, I-,” she hadn’t really thought about it. There was no plan. She was going on a date, so she put on lingerie like she always has.

Like she always did- for him. John would make a game of figuring out which set she had on.

“I just want you,” the truth bubbles out of her throat unbidden.

John descends on her like a man starved- fingers digging into her hips with a grip that she knows is going to leave bruises later.

“Bed,” she mumbles between kisses. Given how John immediately starts herding her backwards towards the bedroom, he’s clearly on board with this plan.

Once the door is shut, the pair cross the room before collapsing against the bed.

Clothes are shed in a hurry, pried off with little regard as they’re shucked to the floor.

“This one looks lovely on you,” John murmurs in praise against her skin as he gropes at the lace adorning her body, dropping to his knees on the side of the bed.

God has she missed this- missed him. The feeling is clearly mutual from the way he busies himself between her legs, lips peppering kisses across her inner thighs quickly while he makes his way towards the spot she wants him most, the gusset of her thong pulled aside.

Just as his breath is fanning over the core of her he pulls back slightly. Her thigh twitches in frustration, so close to finally having the nirvana of his tongue lapping at her only for him to have to be a tease.

“Has anyone else gotten a taste of this sweet cunt?” He asks, eyes on her with an intensity that has her squirming.

“No! There hasn’t been- John, I swear I haven’t-“ she protests.

“I believe you,” he assures her.

She probably should ask if the same could be said for him- for her own sake if nothing else. But she’s already made a slew of questionable decisions that haven’t gone the way she wants, and she errs on the side of not asking questions she doesn’t want an answer to.

Her eyes roll immediately once his mouth is on her. His hands grip at the underside of her thigh, holding them apart to give him unfettered access.

“John,” somehow she can’t quite wrap her mind around the fact that he’s got her back in their bed. Everything is novel and familiar at the same time, and she is overwhelmed by how easy it is to fall back into old habits.

He pulls away just long enough to speak, “I missed you so much,” before going back to eating her out.

John is a man on a mission, and he is familiar enough with her body to know exactly how to get her where he wants her. He also knows all of her tells- God damn him. No sooner has he dragged her to the precipice of her orgasm does he sit back, content to let her dangle but stopping just shy of letting her finally topple over.

“Wh-why?” She whimpers, lust, anticipation and disappointment curling in her gut.

He’s so gentle with her when he takes her left hand in his own, thumb running over her knuckles in soothing movements.

“Where’s your ring, sweetheart?” his question is a non sequitur if she’s ever heard one, head spinning trying to catch up through the haze of pleasure she’d been drowning in just a moment ago.

“My ring?” She mimics more on reflex than anything else, mind still reeling to catch up.

“Yes, sweetheart, your ring.” He repeats, eyeline following hers as her gaze shifts to the jewelry box sitting on the vanity.

There’s no written standard on how long to keep your ring before getting rid of it, and she hadn’t been sure about it. Figured she could always get rid of it later- when it’s never a question of if she’s making the right decision. Even with the ink dried on the paperwork finalizing their divorce, the ring feels like the final nail in the coffin for their marriage.

So she put it in her jewelry box, where it is safe but out of mind and she could worry about it later.

She never thought for a second that ‘later’ would arrive in the form of her ex husband telling her “Go get it and bring it here.”

It’s a beautiful ring; everything she ever wanted growing up. The cut, the size, the setting- John did a lovely job when he picked it out all those years ago.

Gonna be an officer’s wife, sweetheart he’d told her after she’d accepted his proposal. Gotta look the part.

Surely no one can blame her for not gnashing at the bit to part with it?

She hesitates for a moment before ultimately deciding to just do as she’s told- John didn’t tell her to put it back on. So she holds it pinched between her thumb and pointer.

In an alternate dimension, where she’d gone back with her date and let him charm her out of her new lingerie, there would be some insecurity over her body. Bringing three tiny lives into the world takes its toll in the form of stretch marks and loose skin and some extra weight that just clings to her like a needy toddler- but any time John has seen her naked, he is as moon eyed as he was the first time all those years ago. Like he can’t quite believe his luck and he’s not entirely sure she’s real.

Tonight is no exception. As soon as she’s in arms reach his hands settle on her hips, pulling her closer to him.

“We’re going to lay some ground rules, and then I’m going to fuck you into the mattress. Am I clear, pet?” Warmth and affection roll off of his tone in waves despite his words. All she can do is nod dumbly.

“This,” John takes the ring from her before sliding it back on her finger,” stays where it belongs. Right here.”

He pulls her even closer- she has to crane her neck to look up at him. “There’s no more dates with other men. That stops tonight.”

Another easy acquiescence. She nods in agreement.

He spins her slowly, facing away from him and then pulling at her hips so she’s sitting on him. She starts to hover, holding herself up until he swats at the side of her ass. “Now is not the time to play with me,” he warns.

She settles, feeling the mattress dip underneath their combined weight. John clearly has a plan in mind as he guides her to spread her legs, a chill running up her spine as the air laps at her wet cunt. His erection presses heavy at her ass, trapped between his body and her own.

His left middle and ring finger tap at her lower lip and she opens her mouth on reflex. John doesn’t even need to tell her to suck, tongue laving over the thick digits automatically, the same way she would his cock.

“I’m not mad,” he whispers in her ear, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You tried and tried to tell me, and I didn’t take you seriously, did I?”

She can only assume that this is all rhetorical- that there’s no way he can expect an answer out of her considering she’s gagging on his fingers.

“As soon as you told me you wanted a divorce in my office, I knew what it was. You needed my attention, and I wasn’t listening. I don’t blame you. Hell, I practically forced your hand. So I’m not mad,” he reiterates.

“But you’ve got my full attention now, lovely- I can promise you that.”

She twists as much as she’s able, watching John out of the corner of her eye while still sucking; her tongue tasting the metal of his ring as it ran along the base of it.

“We,” he pulls his fingers from her mouth, grinning when she chases his hand slightly, “are going to work this out. I love you, and I have no intention of letting another man raise my children.”

It would be easy to say the arousal dripping from her is left from when John’s mouth was on her, but that would be a lie. Him taking her in hand- literally- and telling her he has no intention of letting her go is definitely doing it for her.

Wet fingers grab at her jaw and turn her head, making her melt into his hold as he kisses her. “There’s my good girl,” his voice is a rumbling timber purring in her ear.

She whines when those two fingers trace down her body- an appreciative squeeze of her breasts trailing to grope at her ass before finally slipping between her legs.

“John,” his name is a whimper against his lips as she wiggles in anticipation.

“So impatient,” he admonishes gently as he works his fingers inside of her.

Warmed by their body heat, his ring isn’t cold against her skin by any stretch of the imagination. If anything, it feels like a white hot branding iron everywhere he touches. That tonight is a reclamation as much as a reunion as he crooks his fingers inside of her.

It was easy to ignore the need that burned in her at night. She’d run herself ragged during the day chasing after children and keeping all her ducks in a row. With John gone, it was easy to shove the desire down and ignore it.

But oh now that he has her in his arms, fingers buried in her as he works her closer to her peak? She feels like she’s on fire. Greed burns at her insides, needing more. Nothing short of climbing inside of him would abate the desire roaring in her body.

Her hips cant in short motions, following the movement of his hand eagerly.

As reluctant as she is to stop kissing him, she can feel a crick in her neck starting to form from keeping her head turned for so long.

Her head lulls against his shoulder when his free hand slips under the lace of her bra and grips one nipple between his middle finger and thumb, his pointer finger teasing the hardened nub in a way he knows drives her absolutely insane.

“Oh my God,” she squeaks just a breath too loud, her hand immediately clamping over her mouth as John pinches her nipple just shy of pain in reprimand. “Not too loud,” he reminds her, mollified when she nods in acknowledgement.

He’s got her panting in need in record time, a small part of her suspicious that he’s going to stop her short of her climax again. The anxiety only serves to fuel the fire burning in her gut, giving the final push to tip her over the edge.

Apparently neither trust her ability to be quiet when her climax hits, because John’s hand abandons teasing her breast in favor of also making sure her cries are muffled. The other is soaked as she squirts, twitching and bucking in his hold.

“Need to shove your face in a pillow,” he comments dryly, a shit eating grin on his face as he takes in her blissed out expression.

He knows her inside and out; knows exactly how long she needs to recover before he’s tapping at her side and prompting her up. “Get on the bed and lay on your back.”

She complies immediately on shaky legs, standing to turn and crawling to the middle of the bed.

John is just as delicious now as he was over a decade ago, and her brain threatens to short circuit watching him crawl over top of her. There’s more grey hairs and fine lines creasing around his eyes, and her heart still thrums in her ribcage like a hummingbird.

She relaxes against the mattress, trusting entirely that John has everything handled. He positions her how he wants, settling between her legs and rubbing the tip of her cock against her wet entrance.

“Please, John, I can’t wait anymore,” she begs, feeling like she’s about to lose her mind. The edge should be taken off considering John’s rather patiently gotten her off already once, and yet if anything it just makes her more frantic. As much as each swipe of his cock against her swollen clit sends tingles of pleasure up her spine, she’s gagging for him and running out of patience.

“You are a spoiled thing,” he admonishes good naturedly like he hasn’t made a habit of indulging her every whim and desire in the past decade up to and including getting a divorce.

“We might have our problems, sweetheart, but being able to fuck you right was never one of them, was it?” John teases as he lines himself up with her. She shakes her head in agreement. If she’s being truthful, that’s partially what had stayed her hand for as long as she had. The frustration with his work being so all consuming it was like his mistress had been a slow boil for quite some time. For years John would mollify her by fucking her into submission- and she has a sinking suspicion that their youngest was an attempt to get her to let up on the subject.

His generosity in the bedroom stems from equal parts wanting to please, and the pragmatic aspect that he is not a small man, and it’s usually easier for everyone involved if he gets her off before attempting penetration.

It’s like they haven’t missed a day- it takes a few thrusts to get her body to spread for him and then all the blood on John’s body dives south for the wet, warm cunt wrapping around his cock.

“This pretty cunt’s got me like a vice, sweetheart,” he praises, leaning down to kiss her.

“I missed you so much,” she whines into the kiss. “It feels so good.”

“I’m not gonna last,” he grunts against her neck, each clap of his hips against hers earning a whine. “You divine creature- got me wrapped around your finger, don’t you?”

An entire relationship’s worth of orgasms makes it so she doesn’t begrudge him that he’s going to be a quick shot tonight. His earlier statement is correct- if there is one thing the man knows how to do, it’s fuck her within an inch of her life. He’s proven that time and time again.

If anything, given their time apart, it appeases some of her anxiety- he must not be getting any from anyone else if he’s already this close to finishing.

“Look at me,” he instructs and she complies immediately. One of his hands strokes her face while his other arm braces his weight above her. “Tell me you love me.”

Her answer is immediate. “I do! John, I love you. I love you so much!”

His hips come to a halt against hers as he grunts against her neck in pleasure. “My perfect girl,” he praises, hands stroking at her sides as he comes down from his high.

She’s so caught up in the lust of the situation that it takes a second for reality to come knocking on her door. “Shit! Pull out!” she tells him, trying to scramble out from underneath him.

“What?” In all their years, ‘pull out’ has never been one of the instructions. He complies even as his brows knit in confusion.

“I haven’t been keeping up with my birth control!” Despite John’s easy assurance that he can just stroll in and assert that they are going to work through things (and she does want to)- adding a new baby on top of their mess will not help get shit sorted out.

Once again, his unflappable attitude has its way of driving her absolutely insane. “Bit late for that, innit? You’ve already had 3 of mine, what’s one more at this point?”

“One more at this point is exactly the point!” she tries to reason.

“We did say a girl would be nice,” he reminds her.

“That was before we got a divorce!” she hisses, trying to be mindful of her volume lest she wake their children.

“That’s nothing but paperwork, pet. We can have it sorted by the time you’re due.” John can tell he’s truly gone and wound her up more than he meant with that, immediately shifting gears to try and settle her back down.

“Okay, too much. I’m sorry. Come here,” he guides her to lay down, which she does albeit with a fair amount of suspicion.

John wisely chooses not to agitate her further or do anything that could be considered pushing in his luck (like, say, pointing out that despite her protests about another baby, she’s not said a peep about the cum dripping from her).

Instead he draws her up into his arms, sticking his nose firmly in her hair.

For a long moment it’s quiet, nothing but the sound of their breathing in the late night.

It catches her off guard when the tears come unbidden. One moment she’s happily lazing in her (ex-turned-hopeful-once-more?) husband’s arms, and the next she’s sobbing uncontrollably.

They’ve been through enough that it shouldn’t embarrass her. For fuck’s sake, she’d vomited all over him during the birth of their second son. But she feels like an exposed livewire sobbing over nothing and without warning.

“What’s wrong?” John mumbles as he wakes half-way, pulling her closer to him and stroking her back to console her.

“I mucked everything up,” she chokes out, burrowing her face against his neck. “I didn’t even want this, I just didn’t know what else to do!”

He shushes her gently, petting at her in an attempt to calm her down. “I meant what I said, pet. I know things have to change, but at the end of the day it’s just papers. We’ll get everything fixed back in its proper place.”

She doesn’t remove herself from the spot on his neck she’s nestling against, but quiets down and eventually they both fall asleep once again.

When she wakes again, she feels far more level headed- although neediness eats away at her. It’s like her body is craving to make up for lost time for the months they’ve been apart.

She can’t help herself as one hand trails down the thick hair dusting his torso, pressing kisses against his neck. Even in his sleep John responds to her touch- pulls at her to be closer to him, huffing as his dick twitches in interest.

It only takes a quick lick of her palm and a few strokes to have him stiffening in her hand.

The dried spend on the inside of her thighs is enough of a reminder, even if she’s feeling affectionate this morning, that she’s going to have to figure something out for her birth control.

For the morning at least the answer to that is easy- still working her hand in slow motion up and down on his shaft she kisses a trail down his neck and working her way south.

The movement is enough to have John stirring with a sinful groan in the back of his throat.

“Well good morning, gorgeous,” he greets, voice clouding in sleep in a way that makes her just want to sit on his face.

Humming out an acknowledgement, she continues to work her way down his abdomen. She does give in to the impulse to nip at the base of his happy trail, delighting in how he sucks back away from her teeth only to push at her head immediately after.

“Bad girl,” he admonishes with no true venom in his voice “Keep those teeth to yourself, hm?” he advises with an affectionate swat to her ass.

Rather than crawling down him, she’s got herself angled perpendicular to him. All the better for him to pet her with one hand while the other encourages her to take him in her mouth.

The moan he makes as she bobs her head is sinful, and she presses her thighs together and shifts her hips to get whatever little bit of friction she can- an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by John.

“That pretty pussy of yours needs some attention, doesn’t it sweetheart?” he asks, a warm hand running down her spine and trailing across her ass until he starts to tease her.

She works with a sense of urgency, even with John taking his time playing with her. They should have another hour or so to themselves before the boys wake up, but they’re also no strangers to a mad scramble under the covers with an unplanned interruption.

“Fuck,” he bites out a curse, hips flexing underneath her. That’s all the encouragement she needs to redouble her efforts, the hand not supporting her weight wrapping around him and stroking to help get him there faster. Despite their years together she’d never quite been able to take all of him down her throat.

“Look at me,” and the eye contact is all it takes for her to feel him stiffening beneath her. “Gonna swallow for me, sweetheart? Yeah, that’s my good girl- keep those eyes on- fuck,” he grunts, his climax hitting.

She’s well versed in swallowing his seed as he cums- keeps up the suction even as his orgasm tapers off just to see how long it takes him to grab her by the hair and pry her off of him.

“Sit on my face. And don’t even think about fucking hovering,” John orders and she complies immediately. His teasing while she’d blown him leaves her a horribly needy mess- None of the pent up lust releasing yet, although anticipation has her scrambling back up the bed and straddling his face.

He pulls at her hips, locking a forearm around her like he wants to make sure she isn’t going to change her mind and start teasing him back.

And fuck does that man know exactly where to lick and suck to make her eyes roll. One of her hands gripping the headboard for dear life, the other one buries itself in John’s hair. He takes direction like a champ, following the not-so-subtle cues from her as she pulls him where she wants him.

“Please, please, please,” she babbles breathlessly as he gets her teetering over the edge, only to release his hair in favor of clamping her hand over her mouth as her orgasm washes over her.

Her legs are weak as he guides her back down before getting her on her back and kissing her until she’s breathless. As engrossing as their make out session is, neither one particularly cares that they can taste themself on the other.

Eventually the pair wear themselves out, calming down from their earlier romp and managing to get into the shower and cleaning up.

It’s only after they’ve escaped the pull of their marital bed, as the water washes the lust out of her system that the reality of the situation comes knocking again, insistent.

“I want this to work, John.” She wants to melt at the way his expression softens at her.

“I do too, sweetheart- you have no idea how much.” A sigh escapes her, already fearing that they’re back on their loop that’s been the routine for the past decade. “What’s that for, hm?” he inquires.

“I want this to work, John,” she repeats “but things have to change. I mean it.”

“ I know you do,” he assures her, reaching down to kiss her temple. “I believe you.”

She’s uncertain if her refusal to be mollified is her winding herself into a snit again, or because she’s justified in the knowledge that this isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation.

Especially when his palm drops to hover over her belly.

“You can’t try to get me pregnant if you’re not retiring from the field, John,” she asserts. “I can handle the boys, I cannot handle a fourth baby by myself.”

And much like a kind stranger trying to lure a skittish stray dog into their car, John hums in agreement.

Retirement from the military as a whole, she knows, is far too much of an ask. John has spent his entire adult life serving and it will probably take a career ending injury to get him to agree to retire outright. However she’ll happily settle for him promoting high enough that he’s not one of the first people contacted when they need boots on the ground. She just wants her husband home. She’s paid her dues being the sweet housewife raising the kids alone while he plays hero on the other side of the world. He’s beyond capable of climbing the ranks to one that involves less clandestine missions and more paperwork, and it’s absolutely infuriating that he hasn’t.

(She knows it’s not entirely a blind devotion to country and crown and preventing acts of terrorism, and the fact that he enjoys fucking off to who-knows-where at the drop of a hat- never knowing where he’ll be 24 hours from now at any given time, and he doesn’t want to give that up yet. She tries not to think about it too hard though, otherwise she’ll melt down like chernobyl.)

The hot water runs out before John’s refractory period, which is a good thing for her sake because she’s a scatter brained mess right now. The man’s not 20 and she doesn’t begrudge him the time it takes to recuperate, but she’s swinging wildly between being sappy and sentimental and wanting back what she had, and knowing full well she needs to get a grip before she does something stupid like letting John talk her into trying for a girl.

By the time they dry off and dress there are three hungry boys who are in for quite the surprise to see their dad come morning. No doubt there had been a reasonable expectation that John would leave in the middle of the night after they went to bed.

John keeps the boys distracted and out of her hair as she gets their breakfast sorted.

Before the divorce, the pair of them would go about their separate routines; making their morning caffeinated beverages of choice, idly commenting on the latest news headline, alternating getting things sorted for their children.

Now John hovers. Like he’s not entirely certain if he wants her out of his sight. He wrangles the boys to their seats as she gets their food, but it’s like one eye is kept trained on her.

Before the divorce, her children would make their protests- high pitch peals of ew! (The youngest, she suspects, merely imitating his older brothers who get a kick out of their parents' displeased stares) if they witnessed any displays of overt affection. While of course anything where they could see was kept G rated, once the boys thought something was funny they committed to the bit entirely.

Now, while she’s distracted by John giving a chaste kiss to her temple and running his hands up and down the sides of her arm, she realizes that the boys are as silent as the grave. Three sets of owlish eyes watch them intently before comically making a big show of going back to their breakfast as they realize they’re caught.

“John,” she starts quietly, eyes watching the boys before shifting her attention back to her husba- ex-husband. “We really need to talk about this. Actually talk.” Not just fuck each other silly - she knows they’ll just slip back into old habits. They need ground rules.

She knows how her husband works. If she can wrangle him into actually agreeing with a discussion, that is workable. John’s got his quirks and idiosyncrasies that she’s learned over the years. He won’t outright lie to her, he won’t go back on his word if he commits to something. But he will push and widdle and chip away at her to keep her compliant and happy enough to get off his dick (usually by putting her on his dick. Or mouth. Or hands. Or-

Anyway.)

“We will, sweetheart. Let’s just get through breakfast, hm?”

It is so familiar and yet still so different. The boys are running a mile a minute, eagerly soaking up the additional time with their father (the guilt gnaws at her- knows this could just be a normal morning. Had she either never divorced him, or kept him firmly away. This hemming and hawing that feels inevitable can not be good for the boys).

Screentime is a bit of a hot topic, but they need the boys content and quiet long enough for them to speak without interruptions.

The eldest is a bit too old for the target demographic for Bluey, but his handheld console is enough to keep him entertained.

She can’t help but feel like her oldest boy and John are conspiring- John firmly telling him “Your mother and I need to have a little talk with no interuptions. You keep an eye on your brothers, got it?” only for the oldest to salute him with a “Yes, sir!” that has John grinning as he herds her towards his office with a hand low on her back.

The click of the door sliding shut is as loud as a gunshot.

“I know I pushed too far,” John begins. The pair of them stand in front of each other. “You kept asking for the same thing over and over again. I never thought you would actually leave, but I can’t say I was surprised when you asked for a divorce. You were trying, and I wasn’t listening. I meant what I said last night. I’m not mad.”

It…. stings. Knowing the truth the whole time- John thinking he can just wait her out. That he can lean on her despite her protests and eventually she’ll give up. But it’s a dull pain, considering it’s something she’s lived with for years. She’s well familiar with it.

“So why? Why let it get that far. I know what you do is important. I know it’s selfish to ask you to give that up, but we’ve got three kids, John. You want a fourth! It is so hard to be the one who stays with them when you leave. They don’t grasp the situation. They just know that their dad’s gone and they miss you. And I cannot breathe when you are deployed and sent off to fuck-knows-where dealing with some of the most violent, dangerous groups on the planet. What if you don’t come home? How am I supposed to raise them without you?”

Sharp words coming from the same woman who kicked John out. But it’s the same story he’s been hearing for the better part of decade ever since their first was born. He can likely recite her speech from the heart at this point.

Like always, John is steadfast in the storm no matter how far into orbit she flies. He’s well acquainted with her whims, and knows just how easy it is to rile her up and yet also knows exactly how to bring her back down.

At the moment her expression is similar to that of a wet hen’s.

“I didn’t think you’d leave.” It’s the truth and she knows it and it pisses her off. “I knew you weren’t happy with it, but overall we were happy with each other. I wasn’t cheating on you. I’m not a mean drunk. I might be absent at times but I’m not cruel. I keep you happy in bed. You want for nothing. The boys know I adore them. Every marriage has its problems. I thought we both understood that the nature of my job is ours.” He sighs, rubbing a hand down his face.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” she reiterates, and she’s not sure if her voice warbles from how angry she is at the confirmation that he thought he could wait her out until he felt like retiring (or, more likely- she buries him), or at herself because she picked him and how mad can she be when he’s been honest about his work from the start.

There’s no clear cut villain. John is right. His job has weighed down on them since the beginning. In the beginning she thought she could handle it. But three children later and she’s begun to realize- far too late- that it’s so much. Subjecting them to something they never asked for because they were born into this schedule where John is beholden to Kate fucking Laswell more than his own family (peace and love to her- she’s great but she is the walking representation of everything they are struggling with in their marriage).

Her mind is a jumbling mess, like twine that’s interlocking and needing to unravel. There’s no clear cut path forward. She will go absolutely insane if things continue on the way they have been, but the time apart has shown her that she doesn’t really want to separate from John. No other man can even come close to him.

“So now what do we do?” she asks.

John steps closer to her, reaching to run his knuckles across her cheek in affection. “I want to come home, sweetheart.”

“It’s not that easy.”

She expects some sort of protest. Some sort of Yes it can be, and she’s not sure if she’s got the mental fortitude to continue holding her ground. But she knows that nothing will change if she lets up now. This is the moment where she either needs to throw in the towel, or maybe- just maybe there’s a chance.

They’ve made it this far. But she is so tired. She can’t go back but she’s got no idea what’s ahead or how long it will take to get there.

“I know. All I’m asking for is a chance.”

“It is your last one John, I swea-” She’s always hated that stupid fucking movie trope where the man shuts the woman up by kissing her. Yet here she is, her (fragile) attempt at a stern warning cut off as John snatches her up and pulls her to him.

After last night, one would think they’d gotten enough of each other to not be groping at each other like animals in heat.

Mother fucker he’s doing it again. He doesn’t fight as she pulls away, though those pretty blue eyes are blown showing where he would have been heading had she not stopped him.

“I mean it, John. You said you want this to work, but I need to see changes. You need to be home and not fucking off half away across the world at the drop of a hat. I need to be able to make plans and know that you will be here.”

“Anything, sweetheart. I just want my family back. I swear, I’m listening this time. I’ll figure it out.”

The lust has calmed from his eyes as he approaches again, making her look up at him. “You remember our little conversation from last night?”

He looks as serious as a heart attack, and there was a lot said last night.

She’s taking too long to answer, as he continues unprompted. “I know you’re not going to sign the papers overnight, and I’m fine with that. But your ring stays on, and there are no more dates with other men. You are mine. You are not single, and I expect you to act like it, hm?”

The chaste kiss to her temple is a sharp juxtaposition to the severity of his tone. He certainly doesn’t need to tell her twice.

“I promise,” she assures him, seeing how the intensity drains out of him as he’s mollified by her words. “I know I don’t have a right to ask, but did you- was there-” the words choke as she stumbles over them. She can’t be mad. She’s got no right to- they are divorced, and he (was) single and free to do as he pleases. But the idea of John drowning his sorrows in another woman’s body makes her want to claw someone’s eyes out.

And she really should have asked before he fucked her without a condom, but hindsight is 20/20.

Despite her inability to get the words together in the right order, John seems to know her question. He pulls her close to him, tucking her under his chin.

“No, sweetheart. There was never anyone else.”

The knot in her gut unwinds a little bit. “I love you, John. I’m sorry it came to this.”

“We’ll fix it, sweetheart.”

For a moment they stand there in the quiet, but there was no telling what sort of trouble their little trio might get into if left alone for too long. When John unlocks and opens the door, they both raise an eyebrow at the sight of their youngest dashing off around the corner.

Like the three little troublemakers had tried to listen through the door (which they would not be able to do- because she has tried once or twice), and the youngest was too slow to keep up with his brothers who are perched on the couch for all the world like they never left it.

The older two try to play their hand at staying cool, although the youngest boy is giggling- enjoying his “game” of teaming up with his brothers to try and pull a fast one on their parents.

“Do you have to leave?” The question from their oldest is deliberate, and succeeds in distracting them from the fact that their kids were definitely trying to eavesdrop on a conversation not meant for young ears.

“Not today,” John answers, ignoring the sharp look she shoots his way.

It’s a delicate balancing act as they stumble through picking up the broken pieces of their marriage. John can’t prove that he’s controlling his work hours unless she lets him in the house, but does give him shit about not moving in too soon. She doesn’t want him getting comfortable or complacent and back sliding on his promise.

Of course, John gets his lick back. There had been a stern conversation about condoms until her birth control is in hand.

Only to find out at her appointment that they can’t give it to her because she’s pregnant.

Mother fucker. Damn that “one shot, one kill” motherfucker. Their one slip up was the only discrepancy since they have gotten back together- that has to be when she conceived. Why did she fall in love with a sniper?

John is ecstatic with the news, as are the boys. She feels like a wet, disgruntled hen.

The new baby throws a wrench in her plans, but she can’t quite find it in her to be too disappointed once the shock wears off. John had been set on another baby, chattering on and on about how he hopes it’s a girl. They would have had another baby at some point, it’s just a bit sooner than she was anticipating.

No doubt for the boys, the new baby is an assurance that their parents aren’t staying separated. In their simplistic view, that’s as good as ink drying on paper that they’re staying together.

At her scan when it’s revealed she’s carrying boy #4, John kisses her temple and tells her how happy he is.

The youngest daughter that he’s got his sights set on is shelved for the duration of her pregnancy, not another peep of it mentioned.

A girl would have been nice, but she’s well experienced with wrangling John Price’s sons, and no doubt this one will fall into the group just fine.

John’s got quite the track record of giving her pretty babies, which everyone praises and compliments when the little man finally makes his arrival.

When he is home (which has been substantially more, she has to admit), he’s an active and involved father who’s besotted by his children and happily splits night duty with his exhausted wife. Keeps the older boys in line and behaving.

She doesn’t sign anything until John has a signed transfer request. While he’ll still be working in counter terrorism, and still be very close with the 141, his job no longer mandates he ups and leaves at the drop of a hat.

They celebrate quietly. Friends and family have made their opinions known about the back and forth tentative future of their marriage (mostly a well intended shit or get off the pot), and they elect to drop the boys with John’s parents to have a weekend for themselves.

There are no lusty slip ups and everything is followed to the letter but she wants to kill John when he grins at her positive pregnancy test.

Everything can fail, it seems. John merely commenting “Maybe this one will be a girl”, showing his hand that he hasn’t quite given up his dreams of a youngest girl to round out their gaggle of boys.

She doesn’t want to know the gender this time around, which John grouses about but ultimately accepts.

When Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley promotes to a new rank, John is the one the man calls to ask him to participate in his ceremony.

She’s still in her second trimester, not quite teetering into her third just yet. John wants to bring the kids. If the third trimester exhaustion had stuck yet, she likely could have begged to be left out and he likely would have acquiesced. And the boys usually know better than to try anything when on base with John.

The day comes and she feels like a walking stereotype of an officer’s wife- gaggle of kids clinging to her skirt, the newest baby still clinging to her, and an unmistakable pregnancy bump.

“Cookin’ another boy in there, Mrs. Price?” Soap asks good naturedly while they’re waiting.

“Not quite sure,” she answers, eyes on her three more mobile kids making sure they’re settling in and behaving. “John’s been itching for a girl since before this one came,” she gestures to their youngest in her arms.

“Well, hopefully it’a girl then for yer sake- man’s gonna give ya a football team at this rate!” the Scot laughs, chortling at his own joke. There are times when she sometimes wonders how someone as charming as Johnny Mactavish got wrangled into clandestine counter terrorism missions, but then she remembers that as much as he can charm a bird from a tree, it’s comments like that that skirt just too comfortable that yes, he’s probably got a few screws loose. (She sometimes wonders about Kyle too, who is giving Johnny a “fucking really??” look, but can’t quite pin anything. The man is perfectly mild mannered and respectable, and she knows that their work can warp someone given enough time.)

“Hopefully so,” she answers amicably. While her pregnancy has been blessedly uneventful, she’s already over it and will be perfectly happy with this being her last.

Something tells her that John is going to get his wish, one way or another though.

Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡

#captain john price #John Price x reader #john price x you #captain price smut #dub con #dark!fic #<- that is just my typical 'catch all' blocklist tag for anyone who doesn't wanna read anything dark/dubious/etc.#I am being conservative with using the tag pinky promise #my writing

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joequiinn · 5 days ago

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The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 17

[chap sixteen] | [all chapters here] | [epilogue]

Story Summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, slooow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, dysfunctional family dynamics, idiots-to-lovers, smut & nsfw themes

a/n: How is it possible that we've reached the end??? Although this may be the last chapter, this won't be the final outing for our Ice Princess - I'll have the epilogue posted soon, and I'm hoping to explore ther relationship more in the future! This chapter is a little bit serious, but otherwise it's entirely indulgent for all of us that have just been chomping at the bit for these two to get together, so enjoy~

wc: 9.1k

Chapter Seventeen

Sleeping in Eddie’s bed had clearly become something of a habit in your month and a half of fake dating, because it didn’t even surprise you when you awoke the day after Halloween to find your cheek pressed against his back, his messy mane of curls tickling your face. No, the part that did briefly surprise you was the realization that you were lying there virtually naked and holding him like he was your own personal teddy bear; when the Halloween party slowly began to come back to you, though, your surprise began to fade away.

You’d kissed Eddie, not just once or twice or even for a few minutes, but for damn near the rest of night. Once you two left the party and returned to his place in the early hours of the morning, you practically jumped him because you were unable to contain all the want you’d been harboring over the course of these past weeks. Hell, you couldn’t even remember when you two eventually caved to your exhaustion and pulled away from each other, because you were so caught up in the whirlwind of his lips and his touch that all other details of the night seemed to vanish from memory.

With a giddy smile, you lightly brushed your fingers along your lips, feeling your ears grow hot at the memory of Eddie’s kisses and groping hands and tented pants. You even laughed to yourself smally, as if you were in disbelief about the evening that had transpired.

As your eyes lazily trailed up and down Eddie’s back, feeling ease and content in watching him sleep soundly, that pesky anxiety of yours began whispering cruelly in your ear again like it always seemed to - after all, you two hadn’t exactly discussed what was going on between you, so for all you knew the kisses could actually mean very little.

Although the reasonable side of you knew it was almost certainly ridiculous to assume this wouldn’t go further - considering the few things you did talk about last night - the nervous, emotionally confused and untrusting side of you couldn’t help but run wild with assumptions. What if Eddie didn’t like you in the same way you liked him, what if you misunderstood each other last night? Within only a few minutes of being awake, your worries were already getting the better of you, souring your morning far too quickly for your liking.

You were never exactly the most emotionally competent person, you loathed to admit - considering the household you grew up in, feelings were often suppressed until they boiled over. Neither of your parents set a very good example of how to properly express emotions or healthily discuss them, so your baseline was pretty damn pathetic. How were you supposed to ask Eddie what this was now, how were you supposed to behave when anxieties kept clouding you with skepticism?

The longer you lied here and stressed about it, the more you began to confuse yourself over technicalities and your assumptions regarding Eddie’s feelings. Eventually, when you couldn’t take the obnoxious ramblings inside your own head anymore, you shot out of bed and rushed back into your clothes from the night before, hoping you weren’t causing enough noise to rouse Eddie from his sleep.

You fumbled around the nightstand in hopes that there was a pack of cigarettes somewhere, but you cursed when you couldn’t find even a loose one rolling around; but after digging around in the pockets of Eddie’s jacket, you were relieved to find cigarettes and a lighter there as if they were waiting for you.

Creeping out of the bedroom, you exhaled deeply upon noticing that Wayne had already left for the day, feeling a little more at ease knowing that you could have some time alone to make sense of your thoughts and feelings. You stepped out onto the patio, immediately shivering thanks to the November chill in the air - you really could’ve thought this through better and at least grabbed a jacket, but your head was a little too mirky to have considered it. And you weren’t quite brave enough now to turn back around to grab one.

Curling up in one of the ratty chairs, you lit a cigarette and took a drag that was far too deep, as you ended up in a short coughing fit within moments. Once it passed, your anxieties and frustrations immediately returned in full force, making it damn near impossible to clear your head like you’d hoped. Really, you didn’t know what the hell you were so worried about, yet you felt this constant sense of foreboding; logically, it seemed misplaced, especially considering just how good last night was for you, yet it couldn’t be helped.

You finally confessed your feelings to Eddie and by some stroke of luck he reciprocated them, so then why did you have this sinking feeling in your chest? Why were you so convinced that something had to have been miscommunicated or misunderstood? It was as if you were waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for the inevitable disappointment that had to come following last night, because that’s how things had always gone for you before when they were actually important.

You were used to disappointment - between your parents and your friends and your exes, you’d come to expect it at this rate. You wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest if Eddie didn’t want any kind of serious relationship, if he didn’t want to keep things going between you two; despite yourself, your brain could justify any and all ridiculous reasons for this not to work regardless of how desperately you wanted it to.

You sat out on the patio for what felt like an eternity, watching the relatively uninteresting activity of the trailer park, thinking yourself into an anxious fit. Somewhere between your first and second cigarette, you began pacing across the small expanse of the patio, moving back and forth as if that could somehow put your mind at ease.

It was as you put a fourth cigarette to your lips that you heard the door open behind you, causing you to jump and spin around with wide, nervous eyes. Eddie paused in the door frame, his tired eyes landing on you with something akin to surprise and relief, though you couldn't understand why he looked at you that way.

Despite your best efforts to keep your gaze focused on his face, you couldn’t help but give Eddie a quick up-down, swallowing at the sight of his bare chest and his boxers slung low on his hips. You could see in his expression and posture that he still felt heavy with sleep, and yet his eyes were wide awake, as if he shot straight out of bed upon realizing you weren’t there beside him. He, too, looked you up and down, his shoulders seeming to relax a little as his tired mind tried to catch up with him.

“I thought you were gone.” His morning voice was gruff, and yet you couldn’t help but enjoy it. You dumbly shook your head, unable to think properly now that Eddie stood across from you, disrupting the already chaotic train of thought you’d been consumed with since waking. You removed the unlit cigarette from your mouth, sliding it into your pocket as you looked down at your feet; you could curse yourself for feeling so fucking nervous right now, your heart drumming hard and fast in your chest.

“No, just…” You trailed off, not knowing what you wanted to say anyway. Eddie’s brows were knotted with concern and thought as he stared at you; it almost looked as if he, too, was awaiting disappointment, just the same as you. Biting your lip, you added simply, “Just needed to think.”

Eddie’s chest heaved with a deep sigh as he looked you up and down again, making you wish you could simply read his mind right now - that would make this so much easier, you wouldn’t have to ask him questions or say any of the things that were on your mind.

Eddie looked around, giving you the impression that he was just as nervous as you were right now; clearly, sobriety had both of you a little on edge, “About last night?”

Despite all your nerves, a faint smile nearly ghosted across your lips as everything from the evening prior came flooding back to you. In some ways, it was so much easier to look upon it fondly now that Eddie was here, even as his presence hiked your anxieties. You glanced up at him through your lashes, biting the inside of your cheek at the warm yet trepidation look on his face.

“About last night.” You affirmed in a quiet voice, sheepishly looking around as you continued to make some sense of the chaos going on in your head. Why was it so hard to simply talk to Eddie right now? Why were you so scared to be transparent, to discuss your feelings when clearly you both had things to say on the matter?

Well, because you’d never felt like this before - the answer was obvious, and yet impossible to wrap your head around. The affection and endearment and yearning you felt for Eddie was unlike anything you’d ever experienced in your entire life, and it scared the fuck out of you. He’s been so good to you from the start, has always taken care of you, has let you into his world with open arms, and all of that was now utterly terrifying - the other shoe would inevitably drop soon, right? Something bad had to happen soon, that was all you ever knew. All your relationships - romantic, platonic, and otherwise - were bad, so what would make this any different?

Suddenly fearful of the swell of emotion inside your chest, you turned away from Eddie and took a deep breath; you could feel his gaze burning into the back of your head. Now that you weren’t looking him in the eye, it became at least a hair easier to swallow the lump in your throat and talk, even if your words were shaky.

“I… am terrible with feelings. Absolute shit with emotions, okay?” Eddie simply hummed behind you, and even in that simple sound you could almost hear the look on his face - brows up just a little with curiosity, arms crossed, corner of his mouth barely pulled back in a patient, attentive smirk. Whether or not you were making up that expression in your head, you were somehow certain that’s what you’d see if you were brave enough to turn around right now, “It’s hard for me. But… I’ve been confused for weeks, Eddie.”

A very faint laugh escaped him, prompting you to spin back around and look him in the eye with a puzzled, nervous expression; in that brief moment, you forgot your nerves as you found his watchful gaze. And just as you imagined, he was leaning in the door frame with his arms lazily crossed over his chest, a look of even-tempered composure spread across his face.

“You and me both, princess.” He said simply, as if he were refraining from talking too much. Was he doing so to give you the opportunity to speak your mind more easily?

For a long stretch, you stared at one another, your anxieties coming back to you even as you tried to fight them off; you abruptly turned away from him again, your nerves getting the better of you as you suddenly delved into a panicked rambling.

“You’ve made me feel shit I haven’t felt before, and I didn’t want to get confused so I tried to ignore it, but, fuck Eddie I didn’t think I could feel so many things all at once. It was so easy before, being the ice princess - I didn't care about anyone or anything, it was easier to just exist. But then you happened and I can’t even begin to understand why I’m so emotional all the time or how it’s possible for me to like you so much and be scared of that feeling.”

Hearing the worn wood of the patio creak under Eddie’s feet, your eyes grew wide, debating whether or not to turn around or maintain this measly comfort that came from having your back to him. But it didn’t sound as if he were coming any closer, and your prattling continued whether you wanted it to or not.

“Why am I scared? That’s so stupid, am I really that incapable of handling emotions or a relationship? All it took was one nice boy to turn me into a confused, emotional mess? God, you’ve made me happier than I’ve ever been these past couple months, and yet I want to run from it, like I don’t deserve it or something. Like no matter what, I’m gonna fuck this up and we’re both gonna end up disappointed.

“This was supposed to be some stupid little way of getting back at everyone in my life, but I guess the joke’s on me because now I’ve got more feelings than I can fucking contain and it’s like no matter what I do, I’m gonna ruin this.”

Maybe it was your nerves, but it was almost as if you could suddenly feel that Eddie had come closer without warning, causing you to abruptly begin pacing back and forth across the expanse of the patio. You kept your head down, still insisting on keeping some kind of pathetic barrier between you and Eddie as your anxiety just continued to escalade.

“This would be so much easier if you just didn’t like me back, Eddie, if you just didn’t care about me - I could’ve gotten over this so fucking easily. I can’t ignore it, and now some part of me wants to run, and I know that’s not fair, but maybe it would’ve made it easier on us both to just pretend nothing ever happened and to go back to how things were before we met and--”

Abruptly, Eddie grabbed your arm and spun you around to face him, causing you to trip over your feet as he steadied you. Firmly, he cupped your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look up at him, forcing your eyes to stare directly into his - his gaze was far too affectionate right now, and it was only at that moment that you realized your eyes were feeling a little too watery for your liking.

“You’re talking yourself into a fit, princess.” Eddie’s voice was low and comforting, his hands warm against your skin as he held you in place. You gulped nervously, your skin breaking out into goosebumps as his thumb brushed tenderly along the apple of your cheek. You looked down, your gaze emptily staring at Eddie’s chin as you could feel the way he studied you, the way he looked at you with care. He dipped his head down just an inch, but was mindful not to get too close, a charmed little laugh escaping his lips and fluttering against yours, “What are you so afraid of?”

Eddie’s question felt too kind and gentle, far nicer than you deserved. Your sad eyes turned back up to meet his, and the tenderness in his gaze was utterly terrifying. You could only manage to whisper, as if incapable of raising your voice any louder, “I’m gonna fuck this up, Eddie; I don’t wanna hurt you and disappoint you and waste your time.”

A sweet smile tugged at Eddie’s lips, and you quickly looked back down nervously. Eddie’s fingers pressed against your skin insistently, “Will you please look at me?”

As if unable to resist the request, your eyes immediately flicked back up; Eddie’s expression brightened a little, clearly pleased that you were cooperating with him instead of resisting.

“You’re never gonna waste my time.” He started firmly, clearly believing every single word he was saying. You shook your head, but his gentle hands stopped you, “You don’t get to decide that. If you like me as much as you say you do, just be with me. Is that such a bad idea?”

You looked between Eddie’s eyes, unsure how to answer him - your head was swimming with confusion, your heart was pounding with anxieties, and yet they were somehow in entirely different places. You tried to outweigh your fear with logic, and yet you remained at odds with yourself. Pressing your lips together tightly, you swallowed while trying in vain to find your voice again. As if Eddie could read your thoughts, he continued.

“Let me make this easy for you,” although he spoke with confidence, you could see that Eddie was just as nervous as you were, that his eyes were alight with concern; hell, you could practically feel how rapidly his own heart was beating, how his arms were ever so gently shaking. He dipped his head closer, your foreheads nearly pressed together, his handsome face causing you to exhale longingly despite all your pent-up fear. Eddie’s voice had also lowered to a near whisper, “We’ve already been faking it for, what, two months now - so, can we just stop pretending? Nothing else is going to change… except that I’ll kiss you more, if you’ll let me.”

You tried to resist the temptation to smile, but you lost that battle quickly; your cheeks nearly hurt as you grinned and let out a nervous laugh, causing Eddie’s own gleeful smile to grace his pretty features. Trepidation was still ever present in your mind, hesitation clearly shining in your eyes, but getting you to smile again was a victory for Eddie, whose thumbs brushed dotingly along your cheeks.

“We’ll be just fine,” Eddie started warmly, his eyes reveling in the smile on your lips, gaze drinking in your features, “okay, princess?”

Your response was but a whisper as you gave a small nod, your breath warm against Eddie’s lips, “Okay.”

Without a need for any further confirmation, Eddie closed the gap between the two of you, crushing his lips against yours with a desperation that made you instantly dizzy. Your hands quickly began to search for grip along his sides, fingernails scratching against his skin as you kissed him back eagerly, a fire lighting in your stomach that burned out your nerves.

Eddie's hands trailed down your cheeks and neck, his gentle touch making your toes curl and sending a shiver up your spine; a deep sigh of satisfaction deflated the fears in your chest as his arms encircled you. You lips became more assertive and eager against Eddie's, hands gripping at him a little tighter as if intent on never letting go.

As your tongue teased along his lower lip, a gust of autumn wind blew past, and you could feel goosebumps breaking out across Eddie's skin beneath your fingertips. You shivered together, Eddie pulling his lips from yours with a faint chuckle.

“Shit, it's cold.” He muttered into your mouth, causing you to laugh along with him. You gave his chest a small nudge, causing Eddie to take a step backwards.

“Then take me inside.” You instructed. With a sly look, Eddie took hold of your hands and dragged you back into the trailer, pressing your back against the door the moment that it was closed so he could steal another fierce kiss. You could have moaned at the way he pressed his body flush against yours, flinging your arms around his neck and twisting your fingers eagerly in his hair. Enjoying the feel of your hands on him, Eddie rolled his hips smally, causing a hungry sound to rise in your throat.

You broke away from Eddie’s lips, but evidently he wasn’t done with you, because he leaned down to plant firm kisses against the side of your neck; you sighed with delight, momentarily forgetting yourself. When you found your words again, you curled your fingers a little tighter in his hair to get his attention.

“Eddie, I--” You cut yourself off before anything more could leave you. Admittedly, you were embarrassed at the idea of simply saying “Eddie, I wanna fuck you so bad right now,” and just thinking those words caused your cheeks to grow fiery hot.

Feeling your hesitation, Eddie lifted his head to look you in the eye, his gaze dark as if in an odd blend of knowing and uncertainty - it was as if he knew what you wanted to say, and yet he doubted you’d say it at all.

“What?” He whispered huskily. It was then you realized you could feel him growing hard against your hip, and fuck you could’ve mewled greedily. Taking a breath and sticking up your chin in an attempt to gain your confidence, you looked between Eddie’s eyes and lips.

“I want you.” You opted for the less vulgar admission, hoping it would keep your temperature from rising quite so high, though you still felt sheepish saying it. Eddie inhaled deeply, taking in your face closely as if he planned on memorizing each and every feature.

The corner of his mouth pulled up in a faint grin, an excitement alight in his eyes, “I’m all yours, princess.”

A bubble of exhilaration swelled in your stomach, your pussy clenching at his words in anticipation. Achingly, you dragged Eddie’s lips back to yours for a fierce, hot kiss, just as quickly pulling back so you could drag him the short distance back to his room.

Unceremoniously, you shoved Eddie down onto the bed, a giddy laugh escaping you at the surprise across his face, clearly unprepared for you to take charge the way you did. Your eagerness and nervousness were at odds inside your chest as you took him in, hooded gaze dragging down his bare torso and locking onto the tent in his boxers. Eddie stared back at you with much the same expression, his brows slowly rising with anticipation as you unbuttoned your shirt and quickly dropped it to the floor.

In the next moment, you slid out of your shorts, pausing there for a moment as if frozen by the way Eddie watched you with a mesmerized expression. Everything within you was taut with arousal as you let Eddie drink your body in a few seconds longer; as if starved, though, you quickly crawled into his lap and kissed him with such urgency that it made you short of breath.

Eddie’s arms snaked around your middle, hands pressed firmly to your back as if to make sure you were real and solid, as if to make sure this wasn’t some dream. With your body flush against his, you could feel each breath in his chest, each flex of his muscles, the tease of his cock awaiting your touch. Still with some uncertainty, you lowered yourself on Eddie’s lap, your hot center pressed comfortably atop his cock, your underwear creating barely enough layers between you two.

As Eddie twitched beneath you, a moan passed from your mouth into his, your hands desperately winding into his hair again and your tongue feverish against his lips. Slowly, you rolled your hips along his length as a depraved groan rumbled in Eddie’s throat; he jerked again eagerly, his grip on your back growing even firmer. You rutted your hips heavily against his cock, pussy tightening with jitteriness and desperation and yearning.

You pulled your lips away from Eddie’s abruptly, only to ravenously kiss and nip along his neck, the feel of your hot mouth causing him to squirm with impatience. You continued to grind your hips at a deep, lecherous pace, your underwear growing damp from the friction and your arousal, desperate for more and more of Eddie’s body.

Pulling back to catch your breath, you found Eddie’s eyes, so dark and hooded as he stared back as if you were a goddamn work of art. Your heart beat wildly in your chest at the look of adoration, and all too quickly you were crashing your lips back to his for a passionate, chaste kiss.

You withdrew again, not just your lips but this time your entire body, sliding down from Eddie’s lap to the floor in front of him, eagerly settling between his knees; as you looked back up through your lashes, his slacked jaw and nervous anticipation made you grin wickedly.

You held Eddie’s eyes as you pressed closer, hands sliding up his thighs and towards the hard tent in his boxers; he swallowed excitedly, watching with intense focus as you finally palmed his cock through the thin layer of fabric concealing it. He tensed, sighing longingly at your touch; when you gave him a slight squeeze, the sigh turned into a gasp.

Eddie took a deep breath in a weak attempt to steady himself, eyes locked on yours for fear of looking away. You gave him one more small squeeze before removing your hand, hooking your fingers into the hem of his boxers; you paused, taking in Eddie’s expression with a teasing glint in your eyes.

When you finally dragged the measly article of clothing down, his cock bounced up and slapped against his abdomen; you bit your lip, holding in the gasp that nearly left your mouth at the sight of him. You hungrily looked between Eddie’s eyes and the throbbing head of his cock, nearly ready to pounce him without warning, though you refrained. No, if you could help it, you were going to take your sweet time with him.

The mere sight of you on your knees for him was nearly enough to drive Eddie mad, his breath shaky as he took in your carnal expression, your eager eyes. In that moment, you were so damn beautiful that he was nearly afraid to touch you, his fists clenching urgently into the sheets on either side of him as he awaited what you’d do next.

You kept your dark stare locked with Eddie’s as you wet your lip, lowering yourself slowly towards his desperate cock. Just your hot breath against him was enough to make Eddie twitch and gasp, your mouth hovering mere centimeters from him; god, you clenched at the needy sound that escaped him, impatient to hear what others you may cause.

Finally, your lips closed around the head of Eddie’s cock, tantalizingly pressing your tongue flat to the underside of his length. Eddie exclaimed with a sinful stutter, hips bucking as you slowly twirled your tongue around him; you sucked in your cheeks, watching Eddie’s face through your lashes. His jaw had gone slack, staring down at you with hooded, mesmerized eyes; it very nearly drove you mad, and this had only just begun.

For a long, cruel beat, you remained unmoving, your stare teasing even with Eddie’s cock in your mouth; you waited until you spotted his impatience, relenting with a satisfied gleam in your eyes. Torturously slow, you took his length as deep as you could, your pussy clenching at the way his body shuddered and twitched as incoherent sounds leapt past his lips. His hips bucked up into your mouth as he frantically grabbed at your hair as if desperate to both stop you and to push you even lower on his cock.

Far too pleased with yourself, you finally stopped teasing, rhythmically bobbing your head up and down, twirling your tongue, drooling down the entirety of Eddie’s cock. With one hand, you squeezed what length you couldn’t fit in your mouth, slowly tightening your grip in response to his eager mewling; the nails on your other hand dug into the skin of his thigh, feeling his muscle flex beneath you.

Your tempo grew sloppier and needier, your once slow pace now growing wetter and greedier each time you made Eddie gasp with pleasure. Your hand squeezed tighter around his thick shaft, tongue tantalizing as it swirled his head. Eddie’s hips jerked up desperately, uncontrollably, his cock gagging you as it hit the back of your throat and the hand in your hair gripping harder as he all too easily fell apart. You used both hands to press down on his hips, a silent insistence to stay put as you shifted on your knees, changing the angle so you could take him even deeper.

He gasped and moaned as your mouth grew more frantic, tongue swirling, lips sucking, teeth grazing each time you took him deep enough that you nearly choked. Eddie’s squirming and begging only encouraged you, your mouth becoming more and more desperate around him, your jaw straining as you slurped and sucked with total obscenity. With his cock practically fully sheathed, you ran your vulgar tongue from base to tip, pressing it against the most sensitive part of his head and making him gasp with a salacious jolt.

“Heyhey--!” Eddie abruptly pulled you off his cock, a string of drool connecting you two as a satisfied, wicked grin spread across your lips. His chest heaved frantically as he stared down at you with glazed eyes, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and flushed cheeks. You cleaned the drool from your lip with the back of your finger, hungrily looking between Eddie’s pretty face and his throbbing cock.

He laughed breathily in disbelief, making a measly attempt at composing himself. His cheeks were bright red as he looked down at his twitching cock, “Fuck…”

His fingers were still twisted in your hair, gently tugging as he met your eyes again; his expression was sapless, another profane look spreading across your face at the sight of him.

“Want me to stop?” You asked in an airy, tender whisper, realizing that you, too, needed to catch your breath. The question amused Eddie, who shook his head with a weak grin.

“Fuck no, that’s the problem.” You giggled at his response, teasingly pressing your lips to the underside of his cock, which made him jump a little with sensitivity. He dipped his head back and stared up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath to collect himself.

“Aw, need a minute?” You teased, to which Eddie faintly nodded. For a few moments, you rested your head atop his knee, adoringly watching his chest rise and fall, his Adam’s apple bob, his lips hanging open lustfully.

When he finally glanced back down at you, the look in his eyes was so damn tender that it nearly froze you, unable to move or look away as you drank him in. Once you managed to pull yourself from the hypnosis, you slowly rose to your feet, Eddie’s eyes watching you oh-so closely as you unclasped your bra and stepped out of your lacy underwear, entirely bare in front of him.

You drank in the dilation of his pupils, the heave of his chest, the twitch of his cock, shivering a little under Eddie’s severe, lustful gaze. His eyes trailed over your body, studying every single curve and blemish as if intent on memorizing your skin.

With a deep breath, you grabbed Eddie’s face tenderly between your hands and leaned down, kissing him with a hungry, passionate fervor, moaning against his lips. He blindly reached out for you, pulling you closer until you were flush against him, a satisfied sound escaping his throat at the feel of your skin on his. As you kissed him deeply, desperately, you hiked one knee up onto the bed, your hot center hovering above his thigh, so close that if you were to shift even a little you would graze against him.

Your tongue prodded at Eddie’s lower lip, moaning as his mouth opened to you; his hands tentatively explored your body, fingers digging into your hips, your legs, squeezing your ass with an unsure grip. Needily, you pressed your wet pussy onto his thigh, causing Eddie to moan and pull back so he could look you in the eye.

You breathed into each other’s mouths as you slowly rolled your hips once, making yourself gasp at the sensation; Eddie’s expression quickly darkened, growing hungry at the mere sight of you pleasuring yourself on him. His grip on you tightened, as if silently asking you to keep going, silently begging you to use him all for yourself.

Carefully maneuvering your other knee between his legs, you sat more comfortably atop his thigh and rutted your hips again, the both of you groaning as you threw your head back. Eddie cupped your ass, his hold more firm than before as you started to slowly ride his thigh, your pussy slick and desperate against his hot skin. Your breaths came out in deep shudders, jaw trembling a little when you’d roll your hips just right; you steadied yourself on Eddie’s shoulders, forehead pressing against his as you focused on your rhythm. He couldn’t help but moan at the sight of you, his cock throbbing against your knee as an erotic “fuck” escaped his lips.

When Eddie unexpectedly flexed his thigh, your hips stuttered, a surprised gasp leaving your mouth as you grinded more firmly, more desperately. Your legs were already beginning to tremble as you held tight to Eddie’s shoulders, sloppily kissing him as you rubbed up and down his thigh, pathetic sounds humming in both your throats as the heat in the room kept rising.

Beads of sweat began forming at your temple and the small of your back, your rhythm becoming more and more frantic against Eddie’s body. His lips were hot against your skin, leaving frenzied kisses along the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your neck; you could feel the way his breathing hitched and faltered, as if he was getting higher and higher along with you. Fuck, you weren’t even touching his cock, and yet you were so goddamn pornographic that it was about to send him over the edge again.

Eddie’s fingers dug into the fat of your ass, pressing you more insistently down against his leg; you pulled your head back just enough to smile stupidly at him, seeing and feeling the way his trepidation had begun to fade away. There was a fire in his eyes as you rubbed against him, his mouth hung open with need and desire as he watched you coming undone.

Biting your lip, you picked up your pace while curving your hips a little more, catching your clit in just the right way that it made your eyes cross. Your moaning grew desperate as you got closer to climax, your nails digging into Eddie’s shoulders to keep steady. He flexed his leg again, watching you through hooded eyes as he relished in your pleasure, breathing in your erotic scent as you gasped at the sensation that shot through your body.

“Eddie--” Your tone was pleading, causing him to hiss carnally between his teeth, his breath hot against your cheek. Your grinding was almost erratic, pussy so desperate as your hips rolled and your toes curled. Your body stuttered abruptly, overwhelming stimulation suddenly washing over you without warning, causing you to throw your head back with unrestrained gasps and whimpers.

Eddie held firmly onto you, the sounds of his own raunchy whines in your ear making your orgasm all the more intense. Your entire body shook for a few moments as you struggled to catch your breath, slumping against Eddie’s front and resting your head on his shoulder. Your chests heaved unevenly against one another, sweat sticky between you; the feel of Eddie’s cock twitching against your leg made you moan with a weak laugh, attempting to regain your composure.

“Fuck…” Eddie managed to pant out as you finally raised your head from his shoulder. When you met his eyes, he was lazily grinning from ear-to-ear, drinking in the sight of your post-orgasm expression; you smiled back, biting your lip as your gaze bounced around his handsome face, “Succubus…”

You laughed again, though the sound was hoarse and airy; you placed your hands at the base of Eddie’s neck, needily kissing him with as much force as you could muster. His hands trailed lazily up and down your back, his hands hot against your skin, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, the sensation bringing back the memory of that damned wet dream you had about Eddie only a mere few weeks ago.

Feeling your lips grinning against his, Eddie couldn’t help but mirror the expression, although his mind was still reeling from the fact that the ice princess just came because of him. Just a couple of months ago, he wouldn’t have dared bet money on the idea that you’d be getting off in his goddamn lap, and yet here you were, kissing him with lust and adoration, still quivering from your orgasm.

When finally you broke from the kiss, it was to look Eddie in the eye again, fingers tenderly curling in his hair as you drank him in. His expression was once again awestruck, and it made you feel flush all over, dropping your gaze as if bashful; his hands lazily slid back down to your ass, gripping you tight enough that you inhaled smally. Your eyes flicked back up so you could stare at Eddie’s handsome face, finally finding your voice again.

“You have condoms?” your tone was airy; the nearly surprised expression on Eddie’s face caused you to smile smally while raising your brows at him. He looked almost as if he had something smart to say, yet all he could do was nod dumbly in response to your question. Holding you close with one steady hand on the small of your back, Eddie leaned towards his nightstand, wrenching the drawer open and fumbling around until he finally found what he was searching for.

As Eddie brought the foil packaging to his mouth, you couldn’t help but ogle him, jaw slacking a little as he easily ripped the foil with his teeth, looking far, far too hot doing so. When his eager eyes found yours again they darkened with desire, and he couldn’t help but lean in to steal a quick kiss; you giggled against his lips, absolutely charmed by the innocence of it.

You snatched the condom from Eddie’s hand with a playful look, pulling your sweaty body away from his so you could crawl further onto the bed; you sat back, ass resting upon your heels as you waited for Eddie to follow after you.

He stayed planted for a beat as if in consideration, though before you could question it he turned to face you again; his eyes languidly trailed up and down your body, breath hitching at the sight of you, still so damn new and exciting for him. When finally Eddie met your eyes again, he smiled almost to himself, finally twisting around so he could crawl up the bed with you. Unable to stop yourself, your lusty gaze was drawn back to his cock, still hard and so goddamn tantalizing, and you felt desperate drool pooling in your mouth.

Eddie swooped in for another swift kiss, causing you to nearly fall back onto the pillows thanks to how unprepared you were for it. You gripped his biceps to stay upright, kissing him back eagerly and adoringly, and for a brief moment you came out of your lustful fog, realizing that kissing him felt so goddamn easy, that being with him was like the most natural thing in the entire world. That thought in mind, you deepened the kiss, wrapping your arms around Eddie’s neck and drawing him closer.

Eddie pulled his lips away so that he could press your foreheads together, breathing you in with affection while his hands came to rest gently atop your knees. You could nearly feel the way he smiled, your lips hovering but a breath away from one another, and it tempted you to lean back in for more.

“I haven’t really done this before.” Eddie blurted out huskily, as if he’d been trying to find the words since the start of this whole thing. You couldn’t help but smile largely, pulling back a little further so you could look at his face.

“‘Haven’t really?’” You teased questioningly, delighting in the way his cheeks blushed even more red than they were a moment before. Eddie looked down, grinning along with you. You gave him a firm kiss in an effort to bolster his confidence, wondering if this meant you’d be Eddie’s first time, or if he was just admitting to having very little experience.

He found your eyes, and although a smile rested on his face, he still looked nervous, “I mean… I’ve only done this once.”

Feeling especially playful - which had never been a thing with previous partners amidst the throes of passion - you looked him in the eye with a near cocky expression, “Well, don’t worry, you’re in good hands.”

To that, an anxious laugh burst from Eddie’s throat, clearly unprepared for what you said; you giggled along with him, teasingly narrowing your eyes at him. As Eddie composed himself, he had to hold back more laughter while fondly meeting your eyes, “I’ll be the judge of that, princess.”

Eagerly, you dragged Eddie in for another kiss, guiding him to lie back on the bed; as you pushed him down against the pillows, you pulled your lips away. He stared up at you with such reverie, his lusty gaze watching closely as you straddled his legs, a faint gasp leaving his mouth as you gently grabbed his cock. You drank in the look on Eddie’s face as you gave him a few slow strokes, his moans turning you on, the way his head leaned back as his eyes fluttered closed utterly intoxicating. An entranced sigh escaped you, feeling how wet you were getting again at simply the sight of his satisfaction.

When you took back your hand, a disappointed whine rose from Eddie’s throat, causing you to grin wickedly; you finally removed the condom from its foil, guiding it down his shaft as butterflies began to flutter wildly in your stomach. Eddie watched through hooded eyes as if he were in awe of you; when you leaned forward onto your palms, his eyes flickered down towards your chest, seemingly engrossed in the way your breasts moved as you crawled up his body till you were centered above his erection.

For a moment, you lingered there, mere inches away as you took the time to enjoy the look of Eddie, the desire alight in his eyes, the parting of his lips, the deep heaving of his chest; fuck, he was so handsome it was almost annoying. You couldn’t help but smile fondly while reaching down between you two, positioning Eddie as another faint sound of desire rose in his throat.

With a final, decisive sigh, you lowered yourself onto Eddie’s cock, your pussy so slick that you slid down hilt deep with ease. You moaned loudly at the way you stretched around his thickness, and in the same breath Eddie’s hands spasmed before gripping your thighs tightly.

“Holy shit--!” He hissed sharply while throwing his head back, the expanse of his neck looking far too appetizing all exposed like that. You stayed still for a couple of moments as you became comfortable with his size, delighting in the way Eddie’s fingers flexed against your skin, the way he caught his breath. You couldn’t help but clench around him, causing another gasp to fall from his lips.

Steadily, you began to roll your hips in a deep motion, your moans mingling together at the way Eddie’s cock stroked deep inside you; the slow pace was very nearly cruel, yet the way he hit all your sweet spots was far too intoxicating. God, you just wanted to lean down and trail bites all along Eddie’s neck, but you feared the change of position would get you too close too soon. So, you continued to grind, Eddie’s cock buried deep in your warm pussy, his hands gripping your thighs so tight that it nearly hurt. Hands braced on either side of his head, your fingers twisted eagerly into the pillow with each rut of your hips.

Eddie’s whines and moans were like music to your ears, encouraging you to shift your knees so you could bounce on his cock, the new angle making you mewl loudly as your eyes crossed. Eddie, too, responded wildly, hands grabbing desperately at your hips and ass and legs, squeezing you with rash need.

The way his girth stretched you out had your pussy flexing tight with yearning, your legs already shaky at the feel of him sliding in and out of your slick folds. Christ, nothing before had ever felt as good as Eddie, no one had ever gotten you so high like this; just that thought alone made you shudder and clench with ecstasy and greed.

With his cock sliding in and out of you, Eddie saw stars in his eyes, his mind running wild, his body like static electricity. Incoherent muttering spilled from his parted lips, gasps and hitched breaths growing more frenzied as you rode him eagerly. You looked like a goddamn masterpiece, your hair a mess, body glistening with a sheen of sweat, hands groping desperately at his shoulders as your pace became more and more frenzied. The fucking sight of you riding him was better than anything Eddie had ever dreamed of, and some part of him was still convinced this moment wasn't entirely real.

A particularly urgent gasp leapt from your throat as you rubbed your clit against the hilt of Eddie’s cock just right, the sensation coursing through your body causing your rhythm to falter as you braced your hands roughly on his shoulders. You had to slow down and collect yourself for just a moment, taken aback by the fact that you had nearly cum again so damn easily. Eddie’s breathing was heavy as he stared up at you, ogling the rise and fall of your chest, the taut muscles in your arms, the way your mouth hung open so erotically; unintentionally, you flexed around him, causing the both of you to moan in unison.

You met Eddie’s eyes again, a dopey smile spreading across your lips at how good he looked beneath you with his hair a mess and his eyes nearly black with lust. He grinned back at you with a weak, breathy chuckle, hands squeezing your legs again, cock twitching inside you; it felt so good that you had to bite your lip to hold back a whine.

“You’re amazing.” Eddie said, his voice light as air; you fondly rolled your eyes.

“Shut up.” You answered without any conviction, leaning down so you could kiss him again. The movement caused you to slide up his cock, making the both of you moan into each other’s mouths. You relaxed onto your elbows, trailing hot kisses along Eddie’s jaw as you slowly began to ride him again, the new angle causing friction against your clit that was absolutely sinful.

Eddie’s moaning and muttering being so close to your ear only made you hotter and hornier, clenching tightly as you picked up your pace. His hands held tight to the back of your thighs, helping you bounce rhythmically up and down on his cock as you continued to nip and kiss at his jawline and neck.

As if he had finally gained the confidence to do so, Eddie started to thrust up into you in time with your movements, putting you into an absolute frenzy as your bodies slapped together. All the moans and gasps that tumbled from your lips were growing increasingly louder and more pornographic, to which Eddie’s thrusts became more solid and quick and rough.

You stopped kissing his sticky skin, sounds of ecstasy spilling out of you with more and more vulgarity, your toes curling and knees shaking from how fucking good Eddie’s cock felt ramming inside of you. You could feel drool trailing along your lip and onto Eddie’s hot neck, but you were too far gone to care, your pleasure overriding all of your senses.

“Shit, I’m close--” Eddie whined as if it were both a plea and a warning, and the desperation in his voice had you moaning even louder, walls clenching tight around him. You weren’t sure when you’d stopped moving, but now Eddie was thrusting up into you so deep and rough that it nearly hurt, but in the best goddamn way possible. Together, you were both moaning wildly, Eddie’s hips becoming erratic as he slapped up against you, your body shaking from the now overwhelming pleasuring washing over you. Your mind was so muddled, entirely wrapped up in Eddie and his cock and how close your orgasm was and--

Eddie groaned desperately with one final thrust, ramming himself deep inside you and holding you tightly in place; you could feel his cock twitching, and just knowing that you’d made him cum practically had you tumbling over the edge with him as well.

His body trembled with his orgasm, head thrown back and fingers digging into your skin; you, too, could feel yourself shaking, desperate for that release that was just out of reach. You breathed heavily, clenching around Eddie and making him moan again as he tried to catch his breath, tried to come back down to earth from the cloud he was on.

After a minute, you could feel Eddie relaxing beneath you, and so you sat up a little, moaning at the way his cock still teased your needy pussy, which was growing urgent for relief; a similar, though weaker, sound rumbled in his throat, hands falling limply on either side of your legs. You stared down tenderly at Eddie’s face; his eyes were still closed as he tried to collect himself, and he looked so pretty that you nearly reached out to touch him.

With your second orgasm delayed, your body was feeling particularly desperate, and with a wicked glint in your eyes, you rolled your hips slowly against Eddie’s. He threw his head back with a whine, fingertips trying to grip at your legs and stop you.

“Fuck, princess--!” The lustful way that the endearing nickname left Eddie’s mouth made your pussy flex around him again, drawing another illicit moan from deep in his throat. He managed to get a weak grip on your knees, eyes shooting open to gaze up into your face; there was an overstimulated nervousness in his blown out stare, which made your lips curl into an infatuated smile. Selfishly, you rut your hips with Eddie’s, making him twitch again with how damn sensitive his cock was. “Baby, please…”

Baby. The new term of endearment made you moan. You held Eddie’s gaze as you ever so slowly continued to grind on his cock, which was still hard even after his own release. Weak, needy noises left Eddie as his eyes crossed and rolled back again, succumbing to you; his body shook beneath yours as you used his cock for your own pleasure, creating a friction on your clit that was making you damn near feral.

Like a mantra, weak, breathy “fuck”s fell from your lips as you chased your orgasm, eyes closed and limbs wobbly as you rode Eddie to your heart’s content. His hands flexed against your legs, fingers clinging, body shaking as if he could barely handle your touch anymore. God, you were so close, the mounting of your pleasure beckoning wildly to you.

You realized that Eddie was muttering your name as if it was a prayer, and it flooded you with such desire and warmth and craving, causing you to cum so abruptly that it took you aback. You cried out and threw your head back, staring frantically up at the ceiling as your body became rigid for a moment. In the next breath, you all but melted on top of Eddie, slumping down and resting your head beside his on the pillow. You quivered as your orgasm consumed you entirely.

When you finally came back to yourself, it was thanks to Eddie’s cock slowly shrinking inside you, the sensation making you shudder and sigh as you opened your eyes again. Your faces were so close that you could feel Eddie’s breath upon your cheek, could barely see his eyes staring back at you. An unexpected laugh of satisfaction left your mouth, and you pressed your face into the pillow as if to suppress it. Eddie nuzzled his face into the side of your neck, arms lazily curling around your waist.

“God damn.” He breathed out, pulling back so you could lift your head to look at him again adoringly. You couldn't help but smile at one another, your chests still rising and falling as you composed yourselves. You drank in Eddie’s post-sex expression - the relaxed slant of his brow, his slack jaw, the daze in his eyes. The look made you want to kiss him again and again as if he was the air you breathed.

So, you leaned in to give him that chaste kiss that you desired, which caused his eyes to light up and a smile to spread across his handsome face when you pulled back. His arms tightened around you as he stared ardently upon your face. Shifting so that you two could lie on your sides, Eddie’s cock finally slid out of you, which caused you to moan one last time; the sound made him laugh smally, though you could somehow hear the tenderness in it.

“So… this makes you my real girlfriend now, right?” He asked with a large, silly grin, causing you to giggle and roll your eyes fondly. Lazily, you knotted your fingers into his messy mane of curls, taking a few moments to simply admire his handsome features.

“You want me to be?” Eddie pulled a face as if to say “are you fucking kinding me,” which made you laugh all over again. He narrowed his eyes playfully, challenging you to do the simple task of giving him a real answer. Affection and warmth swelled inside your chest, making you smile largely - all you could manage was to nod vigorously in agreement, feeling your cheeks growing hot at all the emotions you were feeling.

“Come on, you can say it, can’t you?” He teased wickedly, causing you to bite the inside of your lip. With a sincere look and a deep breath, you delicately cupped Eddie’s face in your hands, holding his stare firmly as you tried to control the joyful grin on your lips.

“Eddie,” You started, your tone clearly amusing him, which nearly made you giggle again; luckily, you composed yourself, “I’m your real girlfriend now.”

His smile was large and dazzling and enchanting, his dark eyes tender as they looked about your face with what must have been all the happiness in the world. He leaned in a hair closer, forehead against yours once more as he whispered on your lips, “That’s all I needed to hear, princess.”

addt. a/n: I can't thank everyone enough for following along with this story, it's one that's so very special to me, and it warms my heart to know others love it as well! I could write an entire essay full of things I'd like to say about this little fic, but I'll spare everyone of my ramblings. So, how soon should I post the epilogue 👀

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