#safe cracker x face

[munsonmuses]

•Sounds of Satisfaction•

Eric (AQPDO) x Fem! Reader

Warnings: mentions of the end of the world. Smut, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, light oral (f receiving)

I know it just came out. I know it’s new. But damnit…I needed smut with this watery eyed man let me tell you-

Authors Warnings: this was not proof read

Word Count: 1.7k

Eric’s body ached terribly. The impact from the water, swimming one handed. Running on empty for days as he carefully curled up with Frodo. Legs shaking and mouth flapping like a fish out of water, trying to form any thought as he sleepily looked around.

They’d been adrift for about six hours now, on open water and swaying with the waves. His empty stomach queasy from poorly digested stale pizza, bourbon, and fear. Looking around quietly before Frodo wriggled from his arms. Running off as Eric followed. Clamoring desperately as he weaved through bunches of people. “Excuse…excuse me…clear the way. My uh…my cat!” He squealed. Making his way through to a sight strangely comforting.

There you were, eating from your rucksack and carefully feeding Frodo pieces of beef jerky as his paws held your fingers expectantly. Eric blushing in shame as he walked over.

“I’m terribly sorry for his…behavior. He’s very curious, a risk taker.” He laughed nervously as you hummed softly in understanding. Pressing a cheese cracker to your tongue as you looked him over. “You’re from England…” you murmured as he nervously nodded. Sitting beside you and grunting as a massive bag of trail mix hit him in the chest. Gratefully opening and picking through it.

“I just got back from um…my trip across Europe. A study abroad program…didn’t expect this…” you murmured. “I was in my cab…and my parents were waiting for me…and then what looked like stars fell from the sky…then uh,” you mimicked the sound of an explosion while bubbling out your hands. “Parents gone, my little apartment in tatters and my life in shambles…” you murmured as he pursed his lips. Eyes filled with pity as he carefully placed a hand on your knee.

The two of you got to talking. Sharing names and experiences, Eric giving you the cashews from the trail mix as he frowned to himself. Carefully leaning his sleepy head on your shoulder as he hummed in thought.

“Where do you think we’re going?…” he whispered as you rubbed his scalp lightly. “Probably some sort of island or compound…somewhere safe.” You mumbled as you carefully stood. Eric’s big, wet brown eyes boring into you as you gestured for him to follow you as you entered the bottom of the ferry. Finding a storage closet as he eagerly trailed behind with Frodo in step. Watching as you piled up blankets and softer clothes from your bag into a pallet to sleep on.

“Is this um…where you’ll be sleeping?” He asked nervously as you hummed. “Yes. Yes it is…? Why…?” You murmured as he frowned to himself.

“Can…can I lie with you…?” Eric was clingy, terribly so. Thousands of miles from home. Nobody to stick by. He needed someone to keep him grounded in some way. His eyes watching you as you pushed air through your pursed lips.

“Yes but you have to take off the slacks and shoes. I don’t…I don’t think I can fathom sleeping next to someone dressed like a lawyer.” You muttered as he smiled wide. Removing his tie and kicking off his sneakers. Wriggling off his terribly stained slacks as you sighed.

Stripping of your layers, you stood in your thin tank top and your leggings. His face pink in flustered confusion as he shivered. “I um…I can see your…your um…” he gestured to your chest as you looked down.

“My…my what? Oh my nipples. I am a woman and it is cold Eric.” You insisted as he frowned. “You’re acting like you’ve never seen a naked woman before~” you teased as he looked away. “I’ve seen magazines, and pornos! I’m not…im not completely unaware.” He insisted to himself.

He hadn’t…seen a naked woman before, or even like…a barely clothed one in real life it seemed. Pursing your lips as you sighed. “I’ll gladly put on a sweater if it’s bothering…you…” your eyes travelled downward to a very nervous, very stressed, and very hard Eric as he bit his lip harshly.

“Eric…you’re telling me you nearly died a virgin?” You whispered as he whimpered in embarrassment. “I hadn’t had time, to do things like that? For fear of like…losing my way. I came here for one reason. Law school.” He insisted. Picking at his fingers anxiously as you gently took his hands and pulled them apart.

“Well…we’re relatively safe now…and you’re not terrible looking~” you teased him lightly as he scoffed in gentle frustration. “Would you like…for me to be your first time?” You murmured softly as he bit his lip. Thinking about it as he nodded slowly. You were the only person he knew in America with the current situation. Plus you were pretty. With full lips and big batting lashes and a dusting of pink on your cheeks from the cold and-…his thoughts kept spinning in his head as he whined. He felt perverted, to acknowledge how he’d been thinking of you.

“Yes please…” he murmured as he let you lead him to sit on the soft pallet you’d made. His eyes watching you tentatively as you carefully took his hands and placed them on your hips. “You can touch me Eric…just be gentle…can’t be too loud…it’s the end of the world after all,” you teased as he carefully nodded in agreement.

“Can we um…can we have you lying down…and me on top? If that’s okay?” He whispered. Thumbs rubbing idle circles on your hips as he waited for your approval.

“Yes we can do it in missionary…and thank you for asking it’s very sweet,” you assured as you slowly lied down. Eric following as he straddled your lap and tenderly moved up to cup your face. “May I kiss you…?” He whispered as you laughed lightly. Pulling him down to kiss you.

It was clumsy and messy, his body relaxing against you as he held your face between his clammy palms. Tongue swiping across your bottom lip as you allowed him in. His whimpers desperate as he rutted against your thigh. He was *big*.

He whimpered in need as his kisses trailed along your jaw, down your throat. Slowly working up your tank top as he audibly whined at the sight of your breasts. Nipples pebbling from the cold as he continued to kiss down your collarbone. Warm hands slowly working up your sides as he shuddered.

“You’re really fit, you know?” He whispered. Left hand lightly taking hold of one of your pert breasts. Gently kneading it between his wanton fingers and panting lightly to himself. His mouth wandering lower till it lightly nipped the soft skin of your chest. His knee slotted between your plush thighs. Hands slowly working their way down as you sucked air between your teeth. His mouth needy as he left hickeys across your full chest.

“I um…im going to try something…” he whispered nervously as he carefully backed up. Pressing his nose against your soft stomach as he clumsily took the elastic of your underwear between his teeth. Pulling it down with a bit of a struggle. Getting them off as his eyes widened.

“Wow…um…you’re…you’re beautiful…” he complimented as he lifted your left leg just a bit. Pressing warm and wet kisses along your inner thigh before ending at your clit. Placing a firm and warm peck as his fingers delicately traced your lips.

“Thank you…Eric-“ you’d been holding your breath. His passionate and gentle ministrations were addictive as you watched his face dip between your legs. Moaning lightly as his fingers pressed into you. Looking up at your face to make sure he hadn’t hurt you.

His fingers were thick, and careful. Lightly pumping and curling as he fingered you. Not wanting to cause any harm as he bit his lip gently. Drawing a moan from you as he covered your mouth. “Mmmm…shhh~, we don’t want to get caught.” He insisted lightly as he gently rubbed your clit with his thumb.

His motions were calculated, eyes never leaving your face to make sure you were okay. The soft and wet sounds of your cunt the only real noise besides your muffled breathing. His big brown eyes blown up in need as he whimpered loudly.

“When we get…wherever we’re meant to be, you’ll stay with me…” he was asking, though it came out as more of a gentle demand as he wriggled his fingers a bit deeper. Starting to increase the speed of his motions as you gripped the fabric beneath you.

“Fuck-“ it barely came past his mouth as he shuddered aggressively. “I need you…” he retracted his fingers. Your body clenching around nothing as he worked himself out of his boxers.

He was thick, a nice vein along the underside of his shaft as he pumped himself with his soaked hand. Watching you desperately as he pushed between your thighs and eased himself into you.

His grip on your mouth tightened as your lashes fluttered and back arched. Groaning softly to himself as he eased each inch till he’d fully hilted himself inside you. Twitching lightly. He’d cum soon. Inexperienced and desperate.

He slowly rolled his hips. A testing motion to see if it felt as good for you as it did him. Tears pricking your eyes from overstimulated need. His lips lightly kissing them away as he began to thrust.

“So good for me…so pretty…” he whined lightly as he held you close. His thrusts short and deep as he rocked into you. The space a bit cramped as he hissed through his teeth. “Oh your cunt was made for me…” he murmured as he rocked his weight to make sure he could get as much friction as possible. “Such a pretty girl…” he crooned as he held your gaze.

His breathy moans came from between his plush lips. Nervous and needy as he grit his teeth lightly. Legs trembling as he panted loudly to himself. “So fucking good…” his words were simply repeating. Brain fried from lust and exhaustion.

“Fuck fuck fuck-“ his hips stuttered as he pressed himself deep into you. Letting himself cum as you moaned into his hand. Holding his wrist as he slowly lied on top of you. Exhausted pants leaving you both as his hand slipped from your mouth.

“Thank you…” he whispered, eyes closing. Finally able to rest.

[reve-writes]

—the set-up; kaz brekker.

ʚ kaz brekker x reader | grishaverse | 1,8k words. ʚ from this request. | three times the crows plan to set you and kaz up + the one time they find out you're married. ʚ fluff; the crows are featured (incl. wesper & helnik ship); kaz's touch aversion isn't featured. ʚ a/n this has been sitting in the drafts for a bit. ive been suffering down the leon brainrot hole (honestly an excellent one to fall into). kaz calls reader schatje (i have a fic where he does this. i chose schatje because ketterdam is loosely inspired from 1500s-1700s amsterdam!). i wrote this in a goofy way honestly.

one. he smiles.

Wylan fiddles with jars and tubes filled with an assortment of chemicals—some of them tend to explode, all of them horrible smelling. He's supposed to be on guard duty and he prefers it over running around guns blazing alongside Jesper—as much as he loves the sharpshooter, gunshots give him a lot of anxiety.

He peers into the room where most of the work is happening.

You are poring over stacks of documents, eyes scanning quickly top-to-bottom to find relevant information. Kaz has his ear pressed against the front of a safe, gloved hand twisting the lock. You move around him in the cramped office space with relative ease, grabbing more files to read on the desk.

It doesn't take long for the safe to swing open.

“No safe is safe from Kaz Brekker, the safe-cracker, huh?” you comment. A light, teasing smile decorates your lips.

“Please never say that sentence again.”

To Wylan's surprise, the ever-frowning Dirtyhands smiles. Not the half-hearted hospitable smile he occasionally gives out, or the scary half-sneer half-smirk that is so intimidating it scares even Wylan sometimes. No, a genuine, amused smile. It is so unnatural that he has to look away, a hand clasped over his mouth in shock.

When he tells Jesper, the taller man mirrors his reaction, dark eyes blown wide and jaw unhinged.

“He smiled?” Jesper gives an incredulous stare as if Wylan has just told him that he is a member of the Council of Tide—which is impossible with Wylan's lack of Grisha ability, let alone tidemaking. “He smiled over that?”

Wylan nods enthusiastically.

“We are talking about the same Kaz?”

“Are there any other Kaz that we know?” Wylan sighs.

“Well, no—”

“I think we have to proceed with the plan,” Wylan ponders. Jesper blinks widely.

“The plan?”

“Nina's plan!” Wylan looks at Jesper as if he's just gotten a strike of inspiration, hand in the air, pointing at nothing in particular. “Operation Kaz and ____. Remember?”

Jesper remembers. It was so ridiculous that it remains impossible to remove from his memory to this day, even though it was mentioned in passing.

Nina, flushed red from too many drinks, suddenly shoots her hand up, flailing it limply. The founder of the idea seems to have a plan ready to set in motion.

“We are the gods of love!” She drunkenly declares, free hand moves to tap Wylan's cheeks repeatedly. “And as the benevolent gods that we are, our first mission is them.”

Nina pushes Wylan's face towards you and Kaz, sat at the bar, deep in conversation. The rest of the Crows followed suit, realising Nina's suggestion. She stumbles over drunkenly and with little-to-no care on making it look as natural or accidental as she can, "trips" over her foot and falls forward.

You take the brunt of the force, being pushed forward that you fall onto Kaz. The latter glares at Nina, hand coming to your shoulder to steady you.

“My bad.... It seems I've lost my balance,” she slurs. “Oh! Would you look at that? The two of you would make quite a pair, don't you think so, Matthias?”

Matthias raises an eyebrow, already hauling Nina with him to get back to their table.

“Poor Helvar,” says Kaz simply, nudging you to get back on the barstool.

“He doesn't seem to mind,” you retort, noting Matthias' loving gaze as he escorts Nina.

It doesn't take long before the chaos settles, leaving you and Kaz, still engaging in conversation as the last patrons leave the Crow Club.

“We would make a good pair, huh?” You tease, reaching over to brush your hand against his, leather soft under your palm. “You think so?”

Kaz looks at you pointedly, tugging your left hand towards him, fingers pressing on the small diamond adorning your ring finger. “Would I have given you this, if I didn't?”

Smooth with his words without even trying. A trait you find both annoying and endearing after all the years you've been together.

“I mean you have a lot of diamonds lying around—”

“Schatje.”

“Yes?” All train of thought immediately halts on its tracks. The petname has a hold over you that he oh-so-often uses as leverage. You pout. “Stop distracting me.”

He smiles—soft and uncharacteristic, contradictory to the harsh rasp of his voice and the rough scars on his skin. He smiles a smile he reserves only for your eyes, and you're falling for it, a hundred times over.

two. the demjin.

You don't like when Kaz gets like this—all wrung up over a waivable matter. It reminds you a lot of what he had to be before, the things he had to do and what Dirtyhands actually stood for. Not at all akin to the Kaz Brekker you know—the one who immediately comes whenever one of your crew is threatened, the one who stays up with you as you wait for the rest of your little heist crew to return, the one who goes out of his way to collect little trinkets to bring home to you.

You are hurt, shallow cuts all over your body from a little dagger scuffle with a mercenary, but you're a member of the Dregs—this, you can take. A little Heartrender magic and some bandages, you will recover in no time.

“You're back.”

Kaz stops and you look over him to find his knuckles bloodied, hair stuck out of place and clothes disheveled.

“You're alright, schatje?”

His room at the Slat isn't big contrary to popular belief. He sinks into his chair with a huge sigh. You're watching him three steps away from the edge of his bed.

“What did you do?”

He shrugs, tugging his coat off. “Business.”

“You went after them.”

“It was one part of the business.” He pulls at his gloves, shedding them into the trash—too bloodied for him to bother cleaning. “Are you sure you're alright?”

You tuck your hands into your elbows, displeasure visible across your features. “Are you?”

“Why wouldn't I be?”

“Kaz.”

“They deserved it,” he stubbornly says. “I had to make sure they know not to involve themselves with us. You understand. Besides, I'm alright.”

“I do understand,” you relent. It is business. The Barrell doesn't stop for poets or musicians or lovers, no, it thrives off of the back of violence, taking an eye for an eye. “I just wish that you were here when I woke up.”

His shoulders loosen and he is your Kaz again. Not the one molded by Ketterdam, birthed at its harbour. He's the man so in love that he will dry the seas for you if you say the word. Kaz takes your hands. They are warm on his skin and his heart swells.

“I am sorry, schatje.”

You kneel in front of him, leaning your elbows on his thighs to press a brief kiss on his lips. “Let's stay off business for a while.”

“Kaz?” A sound outside the door, followed by three raps. “Are you in there?”

“He is, Jesper. Give us a moment,” you reply.

You hear hushed whispers—both low voices, so you assume it's Wylan. Your suspicion is confirmed when the second voice sounds from behind the door.

“No, we—no, Jes—don't have anything urgent. We simply wanted to know if he is well. Take your time. We'll be going now.”

“Good night, Wylan,” you reply, immediately hearing fading footsteps soon after.

“Fifty kruge says they're already together,” says Jesper, out of your earshot.

Wylan rolls her eyes. “Fifty on them not dating yet.”

Jesper immediately clasps Wylan's hand with a loud “Deal!”

iii. the marketplace.

“Busybodies,” Kaz complained, walking a step behind you as you're treading through the Ketterdam food market. “They are not even hiding. In broad daylight. How have they never gotten caught before?”

“Kaz, my love.” You are trying not to laugh as you're picking and choosing fruits. “They usually do a better job on actual missions.”

They refer to your five lovely friends who have decided to tail you as you're coming down to the market. Kaz is the first to take notice—blurry figures moving erratically ten steps behind you.

“I should assign them something to do instead of... whatever it is they're currently doing.”

“They're curious.” You shrug, handing over a few slips of Kruge to the seller and leaving with your bag five apples heavier. “We've been acting suspicious lately. They'll find out soon enough.”

“I'll bet Inej finds out first.” Kaz nudges your fingers with his, taking the bag from you as he matches his step with yours. “The Wraith does a better job at spying.”

“My bet is Matthias.” An unlikely one. He's probably the least nosy out of the five.

Suddenly, you're pulled into a small nook, squuezed between buildings and he presses a kiss on your lips. One turns to two and you're smiling like a lovesick fool when he pulls away.

“We're being followed and you pull this?”

“Schatje, our pursuers are horrendously bad at this.” He shrugs, pulling away. You resume your trek through the market. “Look. They've lost us.”

iv. the marriage certificate.

“Fake IDs,” Kaz says, pointing at the towering Fjerdan. “You'll be collecting them from Anika.”

Matthias doesn't mind running errands, although he does think that he'll be better suited for physical fights other than fetching papers, but he doesn't argue. It seems he is doing more than simply fetching papers though.

“That is real?” He asks Anika, pointing at a marriage certificate she has on her desk. Marriage certificates are mundane enough not to warrant this type of reaction, but it is the name that shocks even him to the core. Kaz Brekker and you, married?

“As real as can be around here.” Anika scrambles to hide it away. “Here are your IDs. Don't tell anyone about it.”

In Matthias' defense, he doesn't end up telling just anyone. He tells Nina and Nina is the one telling everyone else. Within a week, every member of the Crows have known about it.

Wylan hands Jesper slips of fifty kruge, grumbling that this is unfair. Nina looks like spring has just arrived. Inej is probably the least reactive—but that is because she's already found out long before the others. She's the Wraith after all. Matthias is anxious. For all everyone knows, he is the one responsible for the news.

You strut into the dining room, seeing everyone gathered and raise an eyebrow.

“Why are you all here?”

“We want to ask—”

Before Nina can finish her sentence, Jesper blurts out. “You're married?”

You chuckle, shrugging. “You found out.”

“How long?”

“Kaz? Really?”

“How did that happen?”

A series of questions that you don't actually answer. You stand there, leaning on the back of one of the wooden chairs situated in the room—remorseless to your very core.

“Ask him about it.”

That ends the discussion. None of them will actually ask him about it and even if any of them actually finds the courage to, the likelihood of Kaz answering anything that's not a sarcastic remark or a threat is close to none.

“How did you find out anyway?”

Everyone points towards Matthias and to the Fjerdan's horror, Nina's pointer finger finds him, too.

You only smile, silently planning to brag to your spouse that you've won your bet.

[ ].

[lavandulawrites]

Hello first timer here, May I humbly request for Yandere Nanami Kento wherein His darling locked themselves inside the closet and he is getting progressively angry and insane ,but just as he is about to break the door his darling unlocks it

Hiding In the Closet

Yandere Nanami Kento x reader

This is really short so I apologise.

I noticed when I was about to post it that I had miss read your request so I had to rewrite it＿|￣|○ I still hope you enjoy<3

Masterlist

Warnings: mention of murder and punishment

Word count: 603

Nanami’s voice was getting louder and louder. You shrunk in on yourself, holding your breath. He was starting to get furious which was a rarity. You were hiding in your closet trying to just disappear. His footsteps got louder. “Please get out [Name]” his voice irritated.

Two hours ago Nanami left the flat form some grocery shopping. You had decided that today you were going to escape the clutches of the man who claim he loved you so much that he had to keep you safe. You had a proper plan and you were determined. Your freedom was only centimetres away. You had slipped a small screwdriver he had used for fixing the lamp in the living room, in you pocket. To your surprise the overworked man didn’t notice the little tool missing. You had packed some crackers in your pockets so that you had some energy when you escaped. The last thing you wanted was to get exhausted before you knew you were out of reach for the blond man. You unscrewed the bolts keeping the window shut and exhaled. This is it.

You were just about to climb out of the window when the front door opened. You froze in your tracks and didn’t dare to turn. Maybe he didn’t notice you?

“[Name] what are you doing?” he’s deep voice sending shivers down your spine. You slammed the window shut before you could make your escape. His hazel eyes boring into yours. You turned on you heel and ran out of the room. You could hear him call for you. He was mad.

You hugged your knees as silent tears rolled down your cheeks. The small crystals wetted your socks, but you couldn’t care less. You could hear his footsteps approaching. Of course he knew where you were hiding, he just wanted you to feel a small sense of freedom.

Why couldn’t you understand that he only wanted the best for you? Why wouldn’t you let him protect you? Nanami sighed as he ran a hand through his light hair. His patience was really running thin. “Please come out” he squatted before the closest. He could see your curled up figure. “I will count to 10”.

“1”

“2”

“3”

“4”

“5”

“6”

“7”

“8”

“9”

Just as he was about to finish counting she creaked open the closet doors and crawled out like a scared animal. He’s stern features soften. He beckoned you into his strong arms. “You broke my trust. I trusted you to stay put, but no you decided to try to sneak out of a third floor flat. It’s clear that you aren’t ready for the outside world” he sighed as he cradled you. His strong hand gently stroking your back. His breath fanning over your ear. You were shivering. You knew all to well how easy it was for him to snap you in half. You had been a witness to what he did to your dear loved ones. He had told you that it was their punishment for tainting something as pure as you. “It’s a shame really. And I who had planned a nice vacation for us” he sighed.

He lowered his face so his lips were mere centimetres from your ear. “It seems that I have to cancel our vacation. It’s a shame. I haven’t had a vacation for years you know? You really had to ruin it didn’t you?” his voice velvety, almost concealing his condescending words. Someone as him didn’t deserve such an angelic voice. He lifted you up. “What punishment do you deserve hmm…? I have to give it some thought…”

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Being their pregnant partner

Featuring Hinata, Kageyama and

Hoshiumi

Hinata Shoyo x Pregnant Reader; Kageyama Tobio x Pregnant Reader; Hoshiumi Korai x Pregnant Reader

Warnings: Fluff

AN: I guess I’m continuing this series 😌

Hinata

“Babe I’m home!” Hinata called throughout your beach house. Moving to the beach was something he’d always wanted to do and moving back to Brazil provided him with the opportunity.

“Oh great, can you help me get my back?” You asked, appearing from behind the door, swimsuit on and sunscreen in hand.

“Uhh babe what are you planning to do? Go swimming?” Hinata questioned, taking the sunscreen from your hands and rubbing it in your back as you continued to rub it into your growing belly.

“Nope, I was thinking we could play some volleyball! It’s been so long and I know you are just aching to get back on the sand babe,” you confessed as your husband stared blankly at you.

“Umm sweetie, I’d love to play volleyball with you but umm, can you even play in your condition?” He questioned, ripping off his shirt and preparing to head to the beach.

You giggled, “well actually I was thinking more like you play volleyball and I lay on the beach. How does that sound?”

Hinata smiled before kissing your forehead and grabbing your hand, practically dragging you the beach.

Kageyama

“YN what the hell are you doing??” Kageyama shouted, quickly running to grab the ladder that held a very pregnant you on it.

“Tobio what is wrong with you? I’m just changing a lightbulb. It’s not like there’s a fire, calm down!” You scolded, climbing carefully down the ladder as Kageyama tried desperately not to get angry.

“I told you I would change it tonight Yn, why couldn’t you just wait?” He asked calmly as you glared at him.

“Well for your information, I was trying to be a good spouse and help you out. I figured you’d be tired and I didn’t think you’d freak out because I used a ladder one stinking time Tobio!”

Kageyama sighed. He knew you were only trying to help but how could he get it through your mind that he only wanted you to be safe and not get hurt.

“I appreciate it Yn but please wait for me next time ok? You’re really pregnant right now and the last thing I want is for your or our baby to get hurt ok?”

You nodded, admitting the stubborn man in front of you was correct.

“Ok fine but I still get to climb the ladder and you hold it!”

Kageyama laughed, “deal!”

Hoshiumi

“Mmm something smells amazing babe!” Hoshiumi declared as he walked into the kitchen, noticing pots and pans askew aa you hurried around cooking.

“Hey love! Just thought I’d make something special for the most amazing husband and father to be ever,” you grinned as Hoshiumi smiled, kissing your cheek and rubbing your pregnant belly.

As he sat down to eat he realized that this wasn’t an ordinary meal, nope. This meal contained his favorite plum flavored snack crackers. He stared at the crackers and back to you, his eyes now narrowing.

“Ok what did ya do?” Hoshiumi asked as you stood there, a fake look of stunned offense in your face as you ignored your husbands questions.

“What do you mean? Can’t I make a meal for my favorite husband ever?” You questioned as Hoshiumi remained skeptical.

“Well I guess, it’s just that the last time you did this, you told me you were pregnant so obviously I’m a bit nervous Yn.”

You waved your husband off, “well I can’t possibly be pregnant again if I’m already pregnant can I?”

“I guess not,” Hoshiumi responded, resigning himself to finally enjoying the food you’d prepared.

“I mean it’s not like I bought a super expensive baby stroller that you told me I shouldn’t buy but I ignored you anyways,” you smiled as Hoshiumi glared at you, food halfway to his mouth.

“See I knew you couldn’t be trusted!”

[13uswntimagines]

Big Emotions II (Alessia X Leah x Child!Reader)

Request: Please tell me there will be a part 2 to big emotions where she meets El and Mazza and Alessia finds out she got sad about the boos

Big Emotions Pt. 1

Warnings: none. cute kid fic.

You had never been so unhappy at a football match before. Even tucked into Leah’s chest with Squirt safely under your arm and your Batman blanket draped around you like a hooded cloak couldn’t make it better.

Leah thought that maybe the booing would stop after halftime, and she had made the mistake of suggesting it after the two of you had returned to your seats just behind the visitor's bench. She thought the crowd would calm down, and just enjoy the game. 

She was wrong. 

She had finally gotten you calmed down, munching on goldfish crackers, waiting for the half to start when the chanting began to echo around the stadium as the players started to filter out of the tunnel. 

Your eyebrows pulled tightly together at the fuck you Russo coming from the supporter's section, reverberating through every tier of Old Trafford. 

“They sayed a bad word,” You murmured, offering a cracker to Squirt before popping it in your mouth. 

Leah hummed, tucking her chin on your shoulder and pulling you closer to her chest. “They are,”

You knew about bad words. You had been in charge of the English training camp swear jar for many camps now because it was the only way to get the team to pay up. It was an adorable running gag the media staff would have absolutely posted had Alessia been alright with sharing your face with the general public. 

“No like,” You said, making your fish cracker swim into your mouth. You munched down on it, and pulled your blanket more tightly around you and Squirt. 

“I know,” Leah said, wrapping her puffy jacket around you and zipping it so you were nestled safely inside away from the cold. “We’ll just have to keep our cheering up to drown them all out huh?”

You nodded. “We cheer for Mama,” 

Leah hummed, hugging you more tightly to her. “They’re about to come out, do you want to wave?” 

“Mama see us?” You asked, your eyes already scanning the players emerging from the tunnel, searching for your mama. 

“Of course she will,” Leah promised, knowing Alessia always looked for you if you didn’t go to the locker room during halftime. Still, you got anxious that she wouldn’t find you and wave, especially as of late. “Mama loves us,” 

Your shoulders relaxed when you spotted Alessia’s familiar form, giggling with Ella as they made their way out of the tunnel. 

“Mama love us,” You echoed, lifting your little hand and waving towards Alessia. 

It only took her a second to see you, waving back enthusiastically and blowing you a kiss. You caught it, smiling widely despite the hate blaring from the fans around the stadium. 

You waved at Ella too and Mary, sending them a little heart hands with Leah’s help, frowning when the booing from the crowd only got louder as they all took their places on the pitch. 

Leah bounced you lightly, squeezing you to head off any ill feelings about the way the fans started various We Hate Russo chants, and to help you feel safe and secure. 

Though this time, they didn’t seem to bother you as much. 

You glanced back at the blonde defender. “We cheer for Mama,” 

She nodded. “We’ll cheer for Mama,” 

You looked back towards the field, snuggling back into her chest, and lifting Squirt so his head just peeked up out of the collar of Leah’s coat zipped around you. 

You would cheer so loud that Mama knew you were rooting for her. Then the whistle blew for the second half to begin. 

*****

“El!!” you cheered, wiggling excitedly in Leah’s arms as the midfielder finally approached the two of you. 

You had been waiting very patiently after the game finished if you did say so yourself, not complaining as the players shook hands and did their mandatory lap and huddle before you and Leah were allowed down on the pitch. 

“Hey, little bit!” She cheered, pulling you out of Leah’s arms and spinning you in circles, your blanket fluttered out behind you like a cape. 

Leah couldn’t help but smile at your giggles of delight. 

It was an effect Ella always had on you, even when you were grumpy. 

“Hey,” Alessia said, wrapping her arms around Leah’s waist. 

Leah leaned back into her taller frame. “Hey love, great game,” 

“Thanks,” Alessia smiled, her dimples poking out. She took a glance back at you, determining that you were thoroughly distracted by Ella, before leaning in for a very quick kiss. 

“Little miss greatly enjoyed your goals,” Leah said as Alessia pulled back. 

“And what about you?” The striker asked, wiggling her eyebrows. 

You loved pretty much anything she did, but Leah was harder to impress. At least she pretended to be.

“They were ok,” Leah shrugged, glancing at you again, her face turning serious. “But I need to talk to you about something,”

Alessia matched her expression, raising an eyebrow as if to say go on. 

“We had a bit of a meltdown after the fans started booing,” Leah explained, her voice lowering so the players still milling around them would have a harder time eavesdropping. “I’m pretty sure it’ll be all over the media with the number of cameras on us,” 

“Wonderful,” Alessia sighed. 

She did her best to keep you off social media. She had heard stories of people using it to find and exploit children, and she wanted to keep you as far from that as she could. She wanted to protect you as much as she could. 

“She also wanted to make sure that neither of us were leaving,” Leah continued, glancing back towards you as Ella placed you on the ground, letting you hold her hand as you gained your footing. “We might want to have a chat with her later, with lots of cuddles and reassurances,” 

“Of course,” Alessia agreed, she had already been planning on it, especially with how withdrawn you had been since Leah was away. 

She knew it stemmed from whatever had made you so terrified that they would leave you, but that didn’t help her when she was trying to calm you down. The only cure would be to be surrounded by both of them, she was sure. 

*****

“Munchkin!” Mary cheered as El flew you in her direction, tossing you up (very gently) so the keeper could catch you in her outstretched hands. 

“Mazza!” You matched her excitement giggling loudly as she tossed you in the her again and caught you, spinning you in a tight circle. 

“How’s my favorite striker in training?” Mary asked, ticking your belly as she fixed the too large England jersey covering your frame. 

You shrugged, a smile playing at your lips. “Ok, manu let me score. No stop my penalty,”

Mary chuckled, helping Ella tuck your Batman blanket back around your shoulders. “Well maybe you’re just too good,” 

“Better than your mama,” Ella added. 

Your nose scrunched and you shook your head. “No one better than Mama. Just no try stop,”

“We could test it out,” Mary suggested. “See if you’ve lost your skills,” 

Her and Ella expected you to agree instantly, as you were obsessed with scoring goals on both of them. Practicing your penalties and passing was a hallmark of any time you spent with them. 

But you didn’t. 

You shrugged again, tucking yourself into Mary’s frame instead of wiggling excitedly like you normally would. 

Ella and Mary shared a look. 

“Do you want to shoot on Mazza?” Ella asked you more directly, rubbing your back. 

You shook your head. “No,” 

Mary frowned. “Why munchkin?”

You were quiet for a long second before you left your hiding place long enough to look at them. 

“No want boo,” You said softly, glancing at the lingering fans still in the stands. “Or sayed the bad word,” 

“They won’t boo you,” Ella said, brushing her thumb across your cheek. “You’re too cute to boo,” 

“Boo Mama,” You explained. “Cause she lefted. But I lefted too,” 

Mary and Ella shared another look, the weight of what you were telling them more acute than any three-year-old should understand. You should be oblivious to how unfair the football fans could be. Oblivious to the cruelty that the world could show. 

But you weren’t. 

“Sweetie, it doesn’t matter what the fans do,” Mary said gently. “But they won’t boo you, because you didn’t leave them,” 

“I did!” You insisted, your volume going up and drawing the attention of a few of the players still milling about. “Make friends with the Gooners. Play with them,” 

“I know,” Mary soothed, as Ella caught the eye of your mama. “But it’s different. They’re not booing your mama because she made friends with the Arsenal girls. They’re booing her because they don’t understand why she left,” 

“Be with Leah and with me,” You said, your tiny eyebrows furrowing, and a little crinkle appearing between them. “No weave me,” 

“She will never leave you,” Ella agreed, rubbing your back. “You’re right. She moved so she could spend more time with you and Leah, and that’s ok. The fans just don't know how to process their big emotions,” 

“People act like meanie butt heads when they no say why they sad,” You said, repeating a version of what your mama and Leah told you anytime you were trying to process your own emotions. 

When you didn’t tell your Mama or Leah that you felt yucky inside, they couldn’t help you, or make you feel better. They couldn’t help you put names to your feelings. 

“That’s right bug,” Alessia hummed, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. She was magic after all and had special powers like all mamas did (Leah was still learning how to use hers). “They just don’t know how to use their words to explain it,” 

“Mama,” You sighed, instantly reaching your arms out to her, and snuggling into her neck when she took you from Mary. “I cheer to make them not boo,”

“I know love bug. You did so well,” She said, keeping her voice soft and beginning to rock you gently. “You were so loud that I couldn’t even hear them,” 

You settled deeper into her, one of your hands twisting the collar of her Kit top, and the other squeezing squirt more securely under your arm as you buried your nose in her neck. 

“Scored goal past Mazza,” You murmured, your voice barely audible from your hiding space. 

“I did,” She hummed, scratching your back as she adjusted your Batman blanket. “Do you wanna score on Mazza too?”

You were quiet for a long second before Alessia felt you yawn against her skin. “No,” 

“Ok love,” She said, as Ella and Mary both awed at how cute you were, and Leah approached. 

She wasn’t surprised that you were tired, considering that you had been up for most of the night, and the night before that. It was always bound to catch up with you. 

“Cuddle with Mama and Leah,” You murmured, blinking out from Alessia’s neck to Leah. “No weave again,” 

“No, no one is leaving,” Leah said, smoothing down your wild curls, and Alessia rocked you a bit more insistently. “We’re both here, and we’re not going anywhere,”

You made a small noise in neither agreement nor disagreement, snuggling impossibly closer to your mama. 

“And we’re not leaving either,” Mary said, wrapping an arm around Alessia’s shoulder as Ella wrapped her arms around your mama’s middle from the other side. “You’re stuck with us for life kid,”

Leah ran her fingers through your hair, and your eyes drooped. 

You felt safe and warm and loved, surrounded by your Mama, and your Leah and Mazza and El. 

They would cheer for you even if the rest of the world booed.

[m0llygunn]

friends with b(aby)enefits (eddie munson x fem!reader)

MONTH ONE: Just friends—what a silly concept. After your accident, Eddie's been a full-fledged comedian, ill-conceived jokes left and right... neither of you are laughing though when his 'comedy routine' comes back to bite the both of you in the ass.

cw: 18+!, mature language, smut, pinv sex (unprotected again smh), pet names, vomiting, a lot of pregnancy related topics, potentially dramatized pregnancy symptoms (for the plot obvi, also idk anything about pregnancy), mention of readers period, mention of birth control an: lots of minor time jumps/cuts but we get some eddie pov!!! wc: 8.3k+

0 / 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 00

Arms wrapped around your waist from behind, both palms pressed flat to your belly.

“How are my girls doing today?”

Comically loud, heavily puckered kisses scattered over the top of your stomach, catching you by surprise— not at all expecting to be ambushed with facetious affection by your friend. 

Eddie thinks he’s a comedian. 

With about a month of his poor taste in jokes, he thinks he’s hilarious— and a self-proclaimed prophet because he 'just knows' that it's a baby girl. He's full of shit and you desperately try to not give him the benefit of finding his terrible jokes humorous. To your demise, from time to time, they get you.

His latest stunt was when he greeted you for your usual Friday get together. He swung the door open quick enough to stun you and immediately dropped to his knees. With a firm hold on your hips, he leaned in close to your belly, “Hi, baby girl. Did you miss daddy?” he cooed with big eyes and an even bigger smirk.

With a hand on his forehead, pushing him away, unfortunately you laughed, and unfortunately it feels like all of his jokes are coming back to bite the both of you in the ass. It’s hardly been 24 hours since the offending, but objectively funny joke, and neither of you are laughing now.

“Maybe you just ate something bad?” he offers with sheer, dumb, hope. “Or maybe it’s the flu?” he says, snapping his fingers together like he struck the gold mine of an idea.

Eddie can be as hopeful as he wants, but as you lower yourself down to the couch from vomiting your insides out in the bathroom, the panic in his eyes is evident.

“Maybe,” you reply dully, dropping your head to rest against the back of the couch. 

“Do you want to lay down? I can bring you to my bed?” he asks with concern lacing his words. 

“I’m—” you start, but with acid suddenly rising in your throat again, your eyes go wide and you jump from the couch with a renewed energy, just barely making it to the bathroom.

────────────

To put it plainly, you vomited two more times after. When you finally felt like you were done throwing up, with an empty stomach and a sore body, Eddie helped you to his bed and you slept off your spell of nausea. When you woke up a few hours later feeling a touch better, both of you decided the best choice would be to buy a pregnancy test. 

“Just to be safe, right?” he had said, eyes burning into you as you laid sprawled across his bed, feeling no longer nauseous, but instead like an empty shell of a person. “We should buy one, right?” he asked again, eyes growing wider in your silence. 

It felt like even moving your sight line to look at him took too much energy, but you met his gaze, and he nodded his head like he had made his own silent conclusion. 

“We’ll go after, okay?” he said, continuing his one-sided conversation. Standing from the edge of the bed he wiped his palms down the front of his thighs before straightening out and rubbing his hand down from his mouth to his chin. He nods a second time, doing what you assume is him coming to another silent conclusion. “I’ll get you crackers?” he continued, eyebrows raised. 

With your eyes locked on him, you swallowed the dryness in your mouth. You hadn’t done anything notable, hadn’t even attempted to answer him, but his face softened, mouth turning into a regretful frown. 

“Sorry you’re sick,” he said, bending down to pat your head, letting his thumb trace gently across your temple. It was a tender movement and you absorbed the warmth of his contact, letting your eyes blink shut. “I’ll get you water too, okay? Water and crackers and we’ll see how you feel after that.”

Eddie’s a lot of things, but nurturing and soft, and with high levels of compassion is not exactly how you would describe him. He can be those things, but principally, he’s more of an asshole— but one that you love enough to keep around, obviously. But an asshole, nonetheless. The last time you had the flu he laughed at you and made fun of the way you threw up, albeit, it was when you both were in your teens, but regardless, he was a dickhead about it— and most recently, when you had gotten a cold, he ceaseless made fun of your constant sneezing and the blazing red tone of your sore nose from blowing it so much, calling you Rudolf and asking how ‘Big Red’ was doing at this time of the year. Asshole.

Dichotomously to the Eddie you’ve known all these years, he grazes the backside of his knuckles across your cheek, rubbing them back and forth gently. It's painfully obvious he doesn’t do this often from the way his hand jerks, finger nearly poking you in the eye, but you appreciate the notion. You know you must really look awful if he’s managed to compose this much compassion for you. 

────────────

They say that nothing makes people more productive than the last minute. As the pharmacy's closing time approached, it was only then when either of you felt so inclined to even mention going to get the test.

After Eddie got you your water and crackers, you started feeling much better, and feeling much better meant it was easy to pretend like nothing had happened. You both unhealthily and aggressively ignored your potential futures by acting like it was any regular Saturday evening. You talked about your upcoming work week, and watched the usually shitty reruns on TV. Eddie made some freezer-burnt chicken nuggets, you warmed up some soup, and it was boring and uneventful, but it was the most comforting that boring and uneventful could be. 

The sun began to set and it was like the ticking of Wayne's alarm clock on the coffee table beside you only got louder and louder as time went on. 

“S’almost eight,” Eddie had eventually mumbled. You swallowed, keeping your eyes on the TV as you found this particular old rerun episode of Mama’s Family to be the most interesting thing in the world, which is odd considering you usually change the channel whenever it's on. 

With both of you sitting at the couch, feet kicked up, resting side by side on the coffee table, Eddie moves his foot far enough to just barely knock yours— an attempt to pull your attention away from the screen.

“The show’s almost done,” you say, turning your head towards him but keeping your eyes on the TV.

“The pharmacy closes at eight.”

“I feel fine,” you shrug.

Moving your feet from the tabletop, Eddie copies you, putting his feet down on the floor, but he goes a step further, sitting up from the couch. He stands, facing you, but you keep your eyes on the TV, ignoring him fivefold. He props his hand on his hip, arm bent at the elbow, one foot tap away from looking like someone's mother. You ignore him tenfold. 

“You want to stay here while I go?”

“Go where?”

“You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?” he laughs. You can hear the amusement in his voice. His hand drops from his hip and you look at him to see the smirk written across his face.

“Go where?” you double down. Huffing a laugh from his nose, he turns, opting to get himself ready, and begrudgingly, you do too. With your feet dragging through every step, you get in the car, and Eddie drives the two of you to the pharmacy. 

────────────

Under the bright, white fluorescent lights of aisle number eight, you and Eddie stare your potential future down. An unnerving amount of tests sit on the shelf at eye level, some with cute little daisy packaging, others looking sterile and pharmaceutical. 

“Why are there so many options?” Eddie asks, picking one up and flipping it to read the back. You look at the price tags and your mouth nearly drops to the floor. 

“Why are they so expensive?” you ask, taking the box out of his hand and putting it back on the shelf.

“Hey,” he objects, reaching out for it. “That one says response in twenty minutes.” 

“That one is, like, twice as much as that one,” you argue, pointing to another test.

“Yeah,” he says, grabbing the test from the shelf. “That one says a two hour response,” he continues, pointing at the exaggerated font on the front of the test in his hand, waving it in your face. “I’d rather be shitting my pants for twenty minutes than two hours.”

He’s acting normal, braggart and teasing, you can’t muster that same energy. Your stomach swirls and squeezes and does everything it shouldn’t do. Nerves or nausea, you’re not sure. A ceiling light flickers two aisles over and you can’t stand being here.

“Maybe…” you pause. Your hands start to turn clammy. “Maybe we shouldn’t get any,” you say, shifting in place. You turn to fully face Eddie, looking at him as he has a boxed test pulled close to his face, reading the side of it. “Maybe we should just go home.” 

Eddie turns to you, brows furrowed. “No— what? You just spent the whole day throwing up, we gotta get something,” he says, looking at you like you’re insane. The ceiling light flickers again and you definitely feel insane. 

It wasn’t the whole day, it was just the morning, you nearly object until you realize it doesn’t help your case. 

Bringing your hand to your mouth, you chew on the edge of your nail, distracting yourself from the tremble in your limbs. From left to right and back again, you flutter your sight over the different options. There’s too many. Too many and it’s overwhelming. 

“Hey,” Eddie says softly. The weight of his arm settles around your shoulder, pulling you so that your bicep meets the edge of his chest in a half hug. “Don’t be nervous,” he continues, in a low coo. You step inwards, turning the half hug into a full hug. Taking a deep breath, all you can muster is a short nod of your head. 

His arm moves from your shoulder, hand grazing down to your mid back. Focusing your attention on his touch, you take another deep breath, inhaling his familiar scent. Smoky, woodsy, and a contradicting sweetness from whatever shampoo that was probably the cheapest and on sale.

“We’ll be fine, remember? You probably just ate something bad.” he says. He rubs his hand up between your shoulder blades and back down. You want to believe him, you really do. 

“I’m scared,” you say quietly.

“Why?” he asks, voice just as small as yours. 

“It… it doesn’t feel like I ate something bad.” You swallow down the jagged edges of emotion that your voice gets stuck on. His hand, mid rub, pauses and you pull away enough to see him. His eyes glaze over with something you’re unsure of before he quickly blinks it back. 

“Well…” he swallows. “What does it feel like then?” he asks, brows turned upwards. He's nervous, you’re nervous, and the light flickers again, reminding you where you are. 

“Can we go home? Please.” Your nerves become far too jittery and it’s starting to turn into nausea again. Your stomach lurches and Eddie watches you for another moment, eyes searching yours until he nods, patting your back before pulling away.

“Yeah. I’ll just buy this one and we can go.” He takes your hand in his, twenty-minute-test in the other, and he guides you to the front of the store. 

────────────

“It’s almost nine now, so it’ll be ready at…”

“9:20,” you say when Eddie takes a concerning amount of time doing the math. The ride home was quiet. Being out of the fluorescence helped your nerves, and as you got further and further away from the pharmacy, and closer and closer to Eddie’s place, you started to feel normal again. 

“I knew that, I was just… thinking,” he responds. He sits up from where he was crouching in front of the dresser, using it as a table to put together the test. 

Decidedly, it was just nerves that had put you on edge, that’s it. The test is nothing but precautionary, just to rule out what could have made you sick. Eddie joins you, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“Uh— before, we get a response,” he pauses, wringing his hands together. His eyes move down to his lap and your chest tightens. “I just want to say that whatever it is… I don’t regret what we did… and whatever it is, I’ll be there… for my girls.” 

He looks at you, his smirk widening by the second, and you can’t help the snort of laughter from escaping. Like every other ill-timed joke that he's pervasively told over the last month or so, he gets you, and you appreciate it this time as it lessens the gnawing feeling in your belly.

Despite the joke, when you really look at him, with his lips spread in a smile, his eyes swarm with the same trepidations that you feel. He’s a comedian but even the comedian is human. You try your hand at lightening the mood. 

“What if it’s not a girl?” you ask, playing along. He smiles, bumping his shoulder into yours as he huffs a breath from his nose. Shaking his head in an almost mirthful way you think you were successful until his demeanour drops into something serious. 

“What did you mean earlier?” he asks “When you said that it doesn’t feel like you ate something bad?”

“I just— I don't know. I just, I thought I had a feeling,” you explain. Eddie hums, eyes now set forward on the test. “I think I was just nervous, that’s all.” 

Twenty minutes has never felt longer. Eddie accepts your answer at face value but doesn’t do much to show it. He doesn't do much in general, and neither do you. At the ten minute mark, his hand found your knee. At the fifteen minute mark you were curled under his arm, resting your head on his chest as he rubbed up and down your arm. In the last minute, you had taken his hand in yours, playing with his fingers as you watched the seconds tick by on his Casio watch. 

21:19:59 turned to 21:20:00, and you turned to Eddie. Synchronously and in silence, you parted from each other. He stood and you sat. He moved to the dresser, and you held your breath. 

With his back facing you, you watch with unblinking eyes as he reaches for the instructions. Humming to himself, your lungs ache. You try to parse the meaning behind his tone, or vibration, or pitch — or anything that could give way to what he's seeing, but it’s far too vague. Taking a deep and vital breath, filling your choking lungs, you're just about to ask, mouth already open when he speaks.

“It says negative.”

“It says negative?” you parrot in disbelief.

“Negative.” Eddie firmly answers.

There’s no way. You should feel a weight lift from you, but, evident avoidance aside, that feeling is still there, stronger if anything.

“I…” you start, interrupting the loud beat of silence. “I’m not saying I want to be pregnant… but I think it’s wrong, Eddie.”

“Wrong? How could it be wrong?” he says, turning around to look at you. 

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Aren’t they, like, only guaranteed to work like 95% of the time?”

“That’s still a lot of the time,” he says, copying your shrug.

“Yeah… but—” you shake your head, stopping yourself. This is what you wanted right? Why would you fight against the answer that you mostly hoped for? That you were already certain about in the car barely an hour ago. “Whatever. It’s probably right. I think… I think I’m just… tired.”

Eddie nods, agreeing with you. He turns enough to set the test down, abandoning cleanup for another time— gross, but when he asks you if you’re going to sleep over, you willingly ignore the unsanitary act of leaving a used pregnancy test to sit and simmer bacteria growth. 

“You gonna sleep here?”

“Can I?’

“Of course,” he laughs.

────────────

If it were a peaceful morning, you would have woken up to the warm, red tinted sun coming into Eddie’s room through the maroon coloured bed-sheet-turned-blinds. 

If it were a peaceful morning you would have woken up to shared warmth, his arm just barely tossed over your hip, hand resting in the dip of your waist. 

If it were a peaceful morning you would have been able to bask in the meaning of having him beside you— what it meant beyond just shared warmth, what it meant beyond friendship. 

If it were a peaceful morning, oh, if it were a peaceful morning…

If it were a peaceful morning, you wouldn’t have woken up to rising bile in your throat and your heart hammering in your chest. It's not a peaceful morning, it's a race against time. With your hand cupped to your mouth, ripping yourself from the shared tangled sheets, tripping your way to the bathroom over the crap on the floor, time almost wins. 

You made it by a stroke of luck with not a second to spare.

────────────

“It must be the flu,” you had croaked weakly. Eddie nodded, looking at you with tired eyes that had been startled awake by your fumbling and awful retching.

“Yeah, it’s definitely the flu.” It was not a whole hearted agreement, but there was no way any bad food would still be in your system. And with a negative pregnancy test, the flu is the only answer. Obviously.  

The next day, in the quietness of your apartment, you kept a preemptive bowl next to your bed, just in case.

Thank god you did because it was the worst it’s been yet, and with your temperamental luck, you would not have made it to the bathroom this time.

────────────

“Hello?” Eddie answered from the other end of the telephone line. 

Your untouched breakfast sits on the table as you stand in front of your wall-hanging phone, leaning against the counter to stop yourself from keeling over entirely. 

“It's me.” 

“Oh, hey, didn’t think I’d hear from you so early, what's up?” His near chipper attitude is grating and if you could strangle someone through the phone you might have muscled up the last of your strength and considered it. 

“I’m still sick.” If you sound as awful as you feel, and equally as annoyed, it's because you are every terrible emotion in the dictionary. You are the essence of a bad mood, a side effect of how sick you’ve been.

“Shit—” he cursed. “I have work in thirty but I can stop by after?”

“Yeah, you already told me you were working,” you snark, because obviously he has work. It’s Monday.

“Do you want me to stop by after?

“I'm just telling you that I’m still sick.”

The call lulls and you can hear a slight rustle from the other end.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because you’re sick and I feel bad,” he says, voice turning up like he's asking you if that is an alright answer. It’s not, and you twirl the phone cord between your fingers, distracting yourself from scoffing and saying something you know you’ll regret. 

The call lulls for another moment and he clears his throat, coughing right into the receiver. 

“Uh— aside from being sick… everything else okay?” he asks tentatively, pausing too frequently that it annoys you, even more so than you already are.

“I’m fine, I just feel like garbage.”

“Nothing else bothering you? I have a minute, we can talk?”

“I said I’m fine.”

“You’re— and don’t bite my head off— but you’re not on your period?”

“Why would you ask that?” You meet his stupidity with a harsh and rightfully deserved defensiveness. “Don’t you think I would tell you if I was? You know, all things considered.” 

His voice raises as he comes to his own defence. “Well, I just thought… 'cause you thought that maybe there was a chance that the test was wrong, but then we agreed it wasn’t and…”

“And?”

“And you’re in a bad mood.”

You hang up the phone and when it rings again, you let it. 

────────────

Eddie spent the whole day being eaten alive by his thoughts. You said you had a feeling, and Eddie knows you well enough to know you wouldn’t joke around about stuff like this. He would, he has, but you wouldn't.

Since the moment you told him that you weren’t on birth control, he had been thinking about it. Hypothetically, having a kid with you wouldn’t be the worst. He’d actually… like it… maybe? Would he say that to you? No, but it's not an awful thought.

Sure he made jokes out of it, but that was just his ill mannered way of accepting the fact that he kind of, maybe, potentially, would like having a kid with you… and being more than just friends. But he could never tell you that, so he made stupid, stupid jokes. 

But now that having a baby with you is less hypothetical, he’s fucking scared. Not because it’s with you, but because he might be having a fucking baby. That’s terrifying in and of itself. 

When you first started feeling sick, he let himself really believe for about an hour that maybe you had eaten something bad, but in his heart of hearts, he knew. There was no way. Four weeks and 3 days after he came inside you— not that he's keeping track of the days— and you’re suddenly experiencing ‘food poisoning’, even though you didn’t eat anything particularly abnormal or poison-like?

You’re pregnant. So fucking pregnant. There’s no way you’re not. 

“Hey, Bill. You have kids, right?” Eddie had asked as he sat down at the break table with one of his more favourable colleagues. 

Bill, more or less his mentor— or more eloquently put, the kind soul that's been helping him work his way up to being an actual mechanic and not just the guy who cleans and sweeps up after them like he’s been doing for the last year and a bit. He’s an older gentleman, doesn’t do much small talk, is in a permanent old man bad attitude, but he’s a good guy— reminds him of Wayne at times. Eddie trusts him enough, especially not to go talking about him around town. 

“Uh-huh. Grandkids too,” he answers, barely looking up from his newspaper. Eddie knew this of course, but he couldn't think of any other way to approach the topic. 

“Right, sorry,” Eddie apologizes, wringing his hands out of nervousness and dragging out the point of interrupting Bill’s lunch break.  

“You gonna be a father?” Bill asks bluntly.

Father? Eddie's familiar with a particular ‘F’ word, uses it way too fucking much in fact. Father, on the other hand, is an ‘f’ word that was barely in his vocabulary, he could go weeks without letting that word pass through his thoughts, let alone it being a descriptor of his very own character. 

Eddie’s eyes widen, mouth dropping open as his breath stutters like a kid getting caught red handed. “No.” he stumbles to answer. “Uh— maybe. I don’t know. We don’t know.”

“So what are you askin’?”

“Your girlfriend— uh, wife—”

“Wife,” Bill answers with an annoyed ring to it. 

“Right, your wife… What was she like when she got pregnant?” 

Bill shakes his head, ignoring the question. “Did she take a test? They have those now. Can buy ‘em at the store,” he gruffs.

“We did, but it was negative. She… she said they’re wrong sometimes though, and she thought that… she thought that maybe it was wrong?”

Bill sets down his newspaper, the edges of both his fists meeting the surface of the table top. He looks to Eddie, catching his flighty eye contact, giving him his full attention.

“Morning sickness?”

“She’s been sick the last couple of days.”

“Hormonal?”

“Hormonal?” Eddie asks, quirking a brow. Bill rolls his eyes, not unlike how Wayne has done time after time.

“Bad mood? Mood swings?”

“Kind of?”

“I won’t go into detail because I respect my wife,” Bill says, eyeing Eddie through slanted eyes. “Any changes that aren’t to do with her mood?” he asks, looking down the slope of his nose.

“Huh?” Eddie thinks hard, trying to decipher what Bill means. Bill gives Eddie an encouraging nod that quickly turns short-tempered.

“Her body? Any changes?” Bill grumps.

“Oh.” Eddie’s eyes go wide. “Uh— I don't know. She’s not really my girlfriend, we’re just friends.” 

“Just a friend you got pregnant?” Bill’s near-permanent-scowl breaks into a smile, lips turning at the corners in a sadistic way, eyes gleaming with taunting amusement. Eddie feels his palms start to sweat. 

“So you think she’s pregnant?”

“I think you’re up shits creek with a turd for a paddle, kid. Gettin’ a friend pregnant,” he scoffs, shaking his head as he laughs to himself. He fixes his newspaper back upright, picking up where he left off in the classifieds. 

“Well, we’re good friends. I— she… we—” Eddie thinks about telling him that it’s you— Bill knows of you. Eddie’s talked about you enough, but he bites his tongue for the same reason that he didn’t go to Wayne about this— it would be all, ‘just ask her out’, ‘quit pussyfootin’ ‘round it,’ but he doesn’t get it, he can’t just ask you out. He—

“You like her more than a friend.” Bill says, making Eddie freeze. He opens his mouth to speak, to deny, to confirm, to anything, but nothing comes out. “Oh you got it bad, huh?” Bill continues with a teasing smile.

“C’mon, it’s not—” Eddie tries to object but Bill sees right through it. 

“You love her?”

“I…” Eddie swallows, thinking over his answer. “I don’t know…maybe?”

“Well, you got an interesting journey ahead of yous if she really is pregnant,” he laughs again.

And with that entirely unhelpful conversation, Eddie spent the rest of the day not only ruminating on you being pregnant, but now, his feelings for you as well. 

────────────

After work he went straight home, showered, got redressed in sweats and the cleanest shirt he could find and beelined straight for your apartment. He made one quick stop at the pharmacy but quicker than even he anticipated, he was at your front door. 

He knocked, and then there you were, opening the door for him, not exactly smiling— but not looking angry either, or sick, which is a good start.

Greeting him with a quiet ‘hello’, you opened the door wider. He stepped into your apartment, and like he mentally rehearsed, he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. Before he could look at your reaction, he turned, hiding his face behind the curtain of his still damp hair, and kicked his shoes off. 

He’s just trying to get back on your good side. After this morning— your bad mood, and then him only making it worse by asking if you were on your period, which he knew you weren’t because you said that it's been weird since you stopped birth control but… yeah, he’s just trying to get on your good side, definitely not anything more than that. 

Clearing his throat and praying his cheeks aren’t as flushed as they feel, he tries to move on. “How’re you doing?” he asks. You spare him, and you don’t mention the kiss nor give him any weird reactions— which is good, right? You would tell him off if you didn’t want him to kiss you, right?

“I’m doing fine now,” you reply, turning to lead him to the kitchen. He follows behind, humming an acknowledgement. At your counter is a full, waiting dish that looks like and smells like spaghetti. You sit back in your seat, and he takes the one next to it, putting his brown shopping bag down in front of him. 

He watches you as you bring a forkful of your dinner to your mouth. “You’re eating, you must not be feeling sick anymore?”

“No, I stopped feeling sick around lunch and then I was starving,” you say through a second mouthful, swirling your third bite around the fork. 

“Nice,” he nods. Eddie’s not sure of much, not now, hardly ever, but you feeling better around lunch means you only felt sick in the morning, and you being sick in the mornings falls exactly under the conditions of morning sickness… and that means…

Swallowing down his thoughts in a thick gulp, he reaches for the pharmacy bag. “Well, I bought another test just in case,” he rushes out quickly, moving to take out the good part of his shopping haul to lessen the blow if the test somehow pisses you off. “—and I also bought you—”

“Liquorice! Oh my god and popcorn,” you say excitedly, interrupting him with the loud crinkles of you grabbing for the package of candy, quickly ripping it open. 

Eddie watches you closely, the way your eyes light up for some of your favourite foods. He was taking a risk, buying you snacks when he knew that you’ve been sick but it was that or flowers and flowers seemed a little too… forward?

Your reaction to the snacks though, it’s not abnormal, but it’s not exactly normal either… a bit too… ravenous? To be fair, you were sick and now you’re feeling better, maybe you are just extra hungry…. But then again, there's also your bad mood earlier and sure you felt like shit from being sick, but you were usually pretty happy whenever you talked to him. He wasn’t used to all of these… mood swings.

Symptom after symptom, his thoughts finally bubble out. “I think you should take the test again,” he says, interrupting you as you rip open the bag of popcorn. You pause and he holds his breath.

With a shrug, you resume your movements, reaching into the bag and grabbing a handful. “But I feel fine?” you say, waving Eddie off.

“I think… maybe just in case?”

“Here, sit down, I’ll get you some spaghetti,” you ignore him, standing from your seat. “It’s so good, I swear. This is my second plate full.” You grab a dish from the cupboard, serving some up from a pot on the stove top without waiting for a reply from Eddie— not that he had one, he was too stunned by your unconcerned mood to think of one. 

Adding a slice of garlic bread to the side of the dish, you place it down in front of him, quickly moving back to your own seat to dig into the popcorn and finish your own meal. 

“You didn’t go to work today?” he asks after mumbling a polite thank you.

“No, I called in. When I got the promo, I got like six extra sick days, plus vacation time, so I figured I might as well use them,” you shrug indifferently.

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, taking a quick glance at you before looking back to his plate of food, moving his fork around the plate absentmindedly. “Do you happen to have… better insurance with your job now?” he asks, attempting to match your aloofness.

You pause your fork before shoving it in your mouth, opting to turn to look at Eddie. He purposely avoids your eye contact, continuing to swirl his fork in his food.

“Why?”

“Just curious,” he shrugs. “Whenever I get my promo—” he pauses. “—if I get the promo, Coop gives out some shitty insurance plan. Was just wondering what you were getting these days,” he continues nervously.

“I have insurance.”

“Good.”

“Why’s it good?” you ask, squinting your eyes at him.

“Is it not good? You get sick, you don’t have to pay as much— I think that’s objectively good.”

“Fine,” you relent. You stare at him for another moment, but when you finally go back to your food, Eddie lets out a long breath that he was holding in before going back to his food.

He finishes his plate while lost in a daze of thoughts. There’s no way you weren’t pregnant. Absolutely no way. He doesn’t know much about pregnancy, that’s for sure, but this is checking off every single box in his very limited knowledge of symptoms. 

He only withdrew from his head when he felt you staring at him yet again. You had pushed your plate back on the counter, head resting in the palms of your hands as you watched him intently with a particular glint of something in your eyes, something that he’s only seen two other times.

“Hi?” he says shyly, cheeks tingeing pink. 

“You kissed me on the cheek when you came in,” you state.

“Yeah, I did,” he nods, cheeks deepening to crimson under your close watch. 

“Do you want to stay the night?” you ask, stretching your leg out under the counter, running your foot along his shin.

Eddie chokes on his food before looking at you with wide eyes. Elbow bent to cover his mouth as he clears his throat from his sputtering, his eyebrows raise high, hiding under his bangs as he works through your suggestion. 

“Like stay the night or just stay the night?” he asks, eyes burning into you out of shock. 

“I just kept thinking about before… and, you know…” you say, shrugging, hooking your foot around his calf.

“So like, stay the night?” he asks, eyes glimpsing down at your outstretched leg. 

With a sly smile, you nod your head making Eddie’s eyes grow even wider.

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m really sure.” 

Eddie takes a final bite of his food before pushing back in his chair. You excitedly stand, taking Eddie’s hand and leading him to your room. 

Maybe it’s a stupid thing to do when you’re both still up in arms about being pregnant, but Eddie would be a fool to say no to you. He physically couldn’t, has never had it in him. It doesn’t help that he really likes you and might potentially love you. And after all, he’s just a simple man. 

────────────

“Harder.” 

Your desirous voice echoing off of wallpapered bedroom walls, airy moans embellishing every thrust, Eddie does his best to give you what you want. Round two and countless of your orgasms later, you’re still begging Eddie to keep going.

Round one was fantastic. Sincerely earth shattering and left him winded and full heartedly wishing he took up track in his freshman year instead of smoking cigarettes. 

The night started with you riding him, insisting that he laid back, and who was he to say no to that? He watched you intently, grasping at your hips with each rise and fall, feeling the way your body nearly trembled over his own as you made yourself feel better and better. He was completely enamoured by the way your mouth rounded into a perfect oval, the way your eyes welled as you rose up and down, enjoying yourself truly and utterly. Then, when he took over, you were begging, whimpering, and moaning for him. He swore he had never came that hard in his life. 

With the long day of worrying and his stress induced sleepless nights wearing on him, he was nearly nodding off when you were on him for round two. It was exciting— you needing him like this, and his cock was kicking up again before he could process it. 

You came again, adding another tally to the growing tab of how many times you’ve come tonight. This time, you were on your hands and knees, back in a deep arch as he watched the recoil of your ass with each of his thrusts. 

The only thing on his mind was you. How you felt so perfect around his cock, how pretty you sounded whining and begging for him to keep going, how beautiful you are, and how badly he just wanted to keep making you feel good, but then it was like a switch flipped in his head. 

He heard it once, how pregnant women would sometimes get really horny. Insatiably horny— and you just kept asking for more, begging for him to keep going. You were cumming and still managing to ask him to keep going. He had never had sex like this before.

His skin that had grown damp throughout the night, covered in a permanent sheen of sweat, now drew dry, just like his mouth. His thighs burned, his calves begged for a break, his balls were aching from staving off his own release, and now there was very little uncertainty in his mind that you weren’t pregnant. 

Mid thrust, you clench around him, stealing his already stolen breath, pulling from his meandering thoughts. He refocuses his gaze on the bounce and jiggle of your ass and the sweet noises singing from your lips before letting his palms slide down the slope of your arched back, giving himself better leverage to keep going. 

There's no doubt in his mind that he can finish this round. Not only would he feel like an asshole if he tapped out now, but he would also feel like the biggest idiot because this has been it for him. This is the orbiting thought in his mind, the exact scenario that he conjures up in his imagination during his alone time. 

Swallowing thickly and taking an open mouth breath, he moves a hand from your back to wrap around your torso, finding your clit with his finger tips. “One more. Gonna give you one more, pretty girl,” he rasps, voice horse and ragged from his near panting. Your back arches even deeper, hips pressing back into his as you let out a wavered moan. 

“Feels so good, Eddie. Love your cock, feels so good,” you cry, taking heavy, moaning breaths between words, your voice staggering with each of his thrusts that push you further up into the mattress. 

“Mhm, know you love it, baby. Sucking me right in, n' so wet for me," Eddie says through exasperated breaths, words coming out babbled from his focus on not cumming as your walls squeeze him harder and harder.

“Want you to cum inside me again,” you whimper out. Eddie doesn’t answer, he just thrusts harder, rolling his hips against your backside, making you moan louder and giving you the last of every ounce of energy he has left in him.

When he feels your pussy start to flutter, tensing, and pulsating around him again, he knows you're close.

“Gonna cum for me, baby?” he breathes, voice only getting lower and more ragged from the absolute marathon of a night.

“Gonna cum, Eddie.” Your voice rises so high in volume that Eddie's certain your neighbours can hear. 

“Cum for me baby, wanna feel you squeeze my cock one last time tonight,” he grunts, starting to feel delusional with the way his head spins. He grips his free hand on your hip, pressing his fingers into your skin and grounding himself to you, trying to push away some of the daze to think clearly. 

Eddie feels your tightness pulling him in almost immediately. He holds off his own release for as long as he can, bringing you through your orgasm until he can’t take it anymore. He pulls out just in time for his own release, sending his cum spurting over your lower back as his chest practically explodes, burning lungs having all the air expelled from them in a wheeze as he stutters through his orgasm. 

After taking a few, long moments to catch his breath, he reaches for the same towel he used earlier, wiping you clean before falling to your side feeling absolutely exhausted.

“Wanted you to cum inside,” you say pitifully, cuddling closer to him.

“Can’t, you're not on birth control, we didn’t have a condom.”

“You did it before,” you pout. 

“Yeah.” Eddie says, exhaling deeply. 

Yeah and now he's 99.9% sure you’re pregnant. 

“It’s late, got work tomorrow,” Eddie says, eyes unwillingly fluttering closed as you push your way closer to him, pressing your bare chest to his, speckling gentle kisses along his neck.

“Are you sure?” you ask, pressing another kiss to his skin. He barely has the energy to respond and you deflate against him with a sigh.

“Baby,” he coos, frowning when he looks at your lower lip jetting out in a pout. As much as he’d love to keep going, he physically could not go for another round. His cock might let him despite it feeling nearly raw from all the friction, but his aching body definitely would not. “Let me just hold you, okay? We can cuddle,” he offers to try to fix your frown. It only works the slightest bit, relaxing the crinkle in between your brows.

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his hold. You let out a quiet whine at first, clearly upset, but you eventually relax into him, melding to his side. It’s not long before Eddie’s out cold, completely wiped clean of energy. 

────────────

You woke up, ripping yourself from Eddie’s grasp, hand over your mouth, rushing for the bathroom again. Eddie follows behind you, barely alert, but at your side, rubbing your back.

When you were certain everything inside your stomach was gone, you sat back, leaning against the edge of the tub.

“Think I should take that test.” 

“Yeah, I think so too.” 

────────────

With the anticipation of waiting another painstaking twenty minutes, you sit on the ledge of the tub in your bathroom, watching Eddie’s back as he tinkers with the test again. The tailbone pain from sitting on the ceramic edge is nothing compared to the swirling nausea growing from your nervousness.

He had sat with you for a few minutes like the last time, but got up halfway through to get you water. He dallyed in the kitchen for a few minutes, and it was far too casual for you, especially too casual for the dramatic dungeon master himself. It was almost unnerving. 

At the fifteen minute mark, he sat with you again, throwing an arm around your shoulder, and you couldn't help but nuzzle into him. If his casualness was him disguised his nervousness, he doesn’t let on. 

This time, at the twenty minute mark, his watch beeped the grating default Casio alarm, and with the chime of a button being pressed, he stands, turning his back to you as faces the vanity. You don’t follow him, you couldn’t at this point, you feel welded to the tub ledge. 

Unlike last time, he doesn’t look at the instructions. He doesn’t hum. He doesn’t make any noise, he just turns to you, his body blocking the test. You feel your heart rate pick up, but he doesn’t give anything away with facial expressions or body language. 

His mouth opens, he takes a breath, you hold yours once again. 

“Well…” he starts. “You were right.” His tone is flat and you blink, trying to clear your confusion.

“I was right?” 

“Yeah.” he shrugs. “About the last test being wrong.”

“No.” 

“Yup,” he affirms, putting a plosive pop at the end of the word. Too casual.

With your heart pounding in your chest, thumping miles in minutes, you couldn’t process this even if you wanted to, so you don’t. You deny it. 

“You’re lying,” you state, ending your words with a light huff of laughter. Surely, this is all a joke. Eddie’s a comedian, right? Ill-conceived jokes left and right over the last month, this has to be one of them.

He doesn’t smile. His eyes don’t light up. He doesn’t laugh. “Come look,” he says, beckoning you over with a tilt of his head. 

You sit up from the ledge of the tub, moving to stand next to Eddie at the counter. He pulls out the instructions, pointing to a diagram.

“If the liquid turns blue, that means pregnant."

You look at the test, not bothering to look where Eddie points. Blue liquid sits where any other colour should be.

“It’s blue,” you state.

“Pregnant.” 

Pregnant.

The moment is eerily still. In the movies this is where the happy couples jump with excitement. In TV shows, they call family and let them know their good news. In commercials, they celebrate. They hug, they smile, they cry happy tears together. 

Eddie’s your best friend, but you’re not a couple, this wasn’t planned. So you both stand in silence, staring at the positive test.

“What do we do?” you ask, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“We could go get something to eat? I can call out and we can rent a movie or something?”

“Something to eat?” you laugh. It’s positive and he’s thinking about eating?

“Yeah, you should try to eat something,” he shrugs, turning to look at you. 

“Eddie. I’m—” Pregnant, you go to say but the word dies on your tongue. “Why are you not freaking out?” you say, staring at him with wide eyes trying to understand how he’s not affected at all by this. You’ve known Eddie a long time and he’s not exactly the calm and collected type. 

“Well…” he shrugs. “When you said that you thought the first one was wrong, I trusted you more than the test. Believe me, I’ve been freaking out, but now… it’s, kind of, settled in already, I guess.”

“Settled in?” you say, jaw dropping in shock. It’s your body, you were mostly certain you were pregnant— in denial at times, yes, but you knew, yet having it confirmed is still shell-shocking. How has it already ‘settled in’ for him?

“Yeah,” he shrugs. “If you want to keep it, I’m happy. If not, I’ll support you.”

“Happy?” you say, bewildered. 

“Well… yeah. We’ve... we've been friends forever. A kid that’s part you and part me? That’s fucking awesome, how could I not be happy, y’know?” he says, moving backwards to sit on the ledge of the tub. He leans forward with his hands on his knees, watching you with eyes that are too calm. Too, too, too calm about this. 

In your quiet mental chaos, you take a final look at the blue liquid before moving to sit next to him. Your skin prickles with cold shivers but you feel hot all over, like there's a flame of nerves in your belly and a hot air balloon in your chest making each breath feel laboured. 

“I’m…” you stumble over your words. “I— pregnancy is so— Eddie,” you breathe out. Your eyes inevitably start to water.  

“Pregnancy is so Eddie?” he laughs before turning towards you, noticing your eyes turning glossy. His face drops immediately, features turning soft as his brows turning up in concern. “Hey,” he hushes. “It’s okay. We’ll be fine, remember? Everything will be fine,” he assures you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder again, bringing you closer to him in a hug. 

“I know, I just—” you force a breath in your lungs. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“You can cry, it's okay,” he says quietly, and unfortunately, each of his nearly-whistled, whispered consonants pulls out a wave of fresh tears from you. His hand rubs over your shoulder and your cheeks only grow damper. “It’s okay to cry,” he repeats and you press your face to the cotton of his shirt. He pulls you in tighter, rubbing your back in long, steady strokes. 

Eddie’s seen you cry more than a handful of times— more than several handfuls of times, but this is substantial— it just feels different. Different because you’re pregnant. You’re going to have a baby. A baby with Eddie. Your best friend Eddie. Eddie, who you’ve had sex with three times. Eddie, who you’ve known forever, who you’ve spent day after day with, as a friend. Friends. You’re pregnant. Holy shit. 

Your mind races and you divert your thoughts before you stray down that road. “It’s gonna be half you and half me,” you say, mostly to yourself, repeating his earlier sentiment. 

“Half you, half me,” he echoes. He presses a kiss to the top of your head and yeah, this is different— different because Eddie doesn’t kiss you on the top of your head. He doesn’t give you kisses on the cheek either. Eddie’s given you noogies, he’s butted foreheads with you, even flicked you on numerous occasions, all particularly during your shared middle school years, but kisses? Kisses are unheard off. What you guys have been doing lately is unheard of. 

“We had sex and now we’re having a baby,” you state plainly, trying to bring any coherency to the situation, desperately needed to hear the unheard of.

“We did and now we are,” Eddie laughs. 

“You came inside me and now there’s a baby in there,” you continue, hearing every syllable of your own voice.

“That’s—” Eddie laughs quietly again. “Yeah, that’s how it works.” 

“I had morning sickness.”

“Yes you did. And mood swings.”

Pause.

“No I didn’t!” you gasp, pulling back from Eddie to look at him with a scowl. 

“You kind of did,” he smiles, dimples set deep in his grin.

“No, I didn’t.”

“You were also insatiably horny. I was getting leg cramps all night because of you,” he says, bopping your nose, making you scrunch it. Asshole.

“I was not ‘insatiably horny,” you scoff, rolling your eyes.

“Well… if it’s any consolation, if you wanted to have sex again, I could cum in you now, ‘cause you can’t get any more pregnant than you already are,” Eddie says matter-of-factly, purposefully batting his lashes, playing up a faux coyness just to get a rise out of you. Such an asshole.

You respond by hitting him in the stomach, followed by pushing him until he almost falls into the tub, grabbing onto the shower curtain to stop himself. 

“Hey— hey, you were the one asking for it!” he defends, corners of his lips turned up in an untimely smirk. 

“I’m never having sex again,” you shriek, burying your face in your hands. 

“Well, let’s not make drastic choices right now,” he says amusedly, bringing you back in for a hug.

“I’m serious. Never again. Not with you, not with anybody. Ever.” 

“Let’s just get some fresh air, maybe we’ll start thinking straight about this,” he laughs, pulling you to stand up and guiding you out of the bathroom.

Pregnant.

tags: @princesatracionera @venuslayla23-blog @mastermindmiko @tlclick73 @yujyujj @josephquinnsfreckles @uselessnewt @animechick555 @prestinalove @sluggzillaa @daisyridleyss (if you want to be tagged for the next part I kindly ask that you please reblog!)

thank you for reading! <3

[myhappylittlesideblog]

Gotch-yer Back

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings: Violence, Walker death, other TWD character death (Amy), Daryl being a bit of a jerk and then fixing it, let me know if there's anything else! Basically what seems to be regular TWD fanfic warnings. Also I believe this is only Fem!Reader because he calls Reader "girl."

Summary: A retelling of the night walkers attack at the quarry and how you and Daryl help each other deal with the aftermath.

You tried to remember the last time you’d eaten fish. It had been a while, a few weeks maybe? A few long weeks forcing yourself to eat squirrel or a rabbit if you were lucky. Or if you were unlucky, even snake. You’d eat whatever was caught if you were hungry enough, or simply to stay alive another day.

Fish was a delicacy these days. The girls- Amy and Andrea had caught a load of them in the quarry. It was white fish which had always been your favorite. It was easy to cook and fell apart in yummy flakes. Hell, you didn’t even need a fork.

It was hot in your mouth and the heat of the meal radiated in your belly. The group chewed and chattered while you were lost in your own thoughts. Your mother used to make a great dish when you lived with her. Cod with a breading on top that was made with Ritz crackers. You missed her. You missed her cooking. You wondered where she was now-

Everyone laughed suddenly and the sound made you jump.

“William Faukner,” Dale said, smiling.

Lori reached over Carl and rested a comforting hand on your arm. Understanding glowed in her eyes in the firelight. Loud noises always made you nervous these days.

By the time you saw the pan of fish that had been passed around, the last filet was being pulled out of it by a stabbing fork.

“Shouldn’t we save some?” you asked Lori. “The guys’ll be back soon.”

“We’ll catch some more tomorrow,” Andrea said to you, catching your attention from a few seats down.

“Yeah,” Amy said. “We’re pros.” 

Despite the light conversation, Lori looked grim. You and her seemed to be the only people worried about the men who’d gone off to find Merle and the bag of guns that was left in the street in Atlanta. She had her arm around Carl as he munched and grinned at Dale. You couldn’t imagine how she was feeling about her husband’s return, nevermind his volunteering to lead the charge back into one of the most dangerous places in this new age. He’d just gotten back. It was written all over her face as she gazed into the flames of the fire.

You weren’t a fan of Merle. In fact, you disliked him thoroughly. The pit in your gut surrounding his abandonment had nothing to do with his safety, or his life, but with Daryl’s. You weren’t even sure if you liked the younger Dixon either. He seemed to follow too closely in his brother’s footsteps to be safe or dependable. Or even nice. But you did respect him. After all, he’d helped to keep you safe and almost single handedly kept the group fed with his hunting and tracking skills. 

Still, no. He wasn’t very nice.

You had a feeling, however, that you had his respect in return. It only took a few crude remarks from Merle for you to fire back at him with enough force to keep him off your back for a few days. Daryl apparently hadn’t been too far away that day and had heard your reply to Merle’s degrading comments. 

“Impressive,” he’d said. “For a quiet girl.”

The next time Merle got colorful with his words towards you, Daryl was the one to take the heat for you. Told his brother to quit it. Since then, your relationship with the older Dixon was extremely minimal and even when it was forced, he left you alone.

Though you wouldn’t have missed Merle one bit, you watched Daryl take the news of his desertion when the cop- Rick- told him what had happened on the supply run. While you of course expected fury from Daryl, you hadn’t expected such emotion to fly out of him. He was a wrecking ball of threats and fists with tears running down his dirty cheeks. It was sad.

He must have seen the pity in your face then. When you called to him, tried to calm him down and move him away from Shane, he’d shoved you. “Get lost, girl.”

Needless to say, the men in this group were difficult. But at least the others were in the group. Daryl was on the outskirts of it and without his brother, it would be too easy for him to get thrust out. While you didn’t want that, you knew it was also vital for the survival of the group for him to stay. You had a feeling he wasn’t as impenetrable as the armor he wore.

You were worried about Daryl. You were also worried about Glenn and T-Dog, and Rick- Lori and Carl included. And as you sat there before the fire, you wondered what the hell would happen if Merle returned.

That was when you heard Amy scream. You didn’t recognize the sound at first, it was so sudden and so loud. It was a cry of anguish and fear. One that begged for help.

After that, it was chaos.

You turned over your shoulder, watching Amy and her assailant, even pondering for a split second who had snuck into the camp. What stranger would go after a girl just trying to go to the bathroom. But of course, it wasn’t a who. It was a what.

“Get behind me!” Shane roared. 

You knew there wasn’t time. Reaching into your pocket, you grabbed the unfamiliar hunting knife you had with you and unsheathed it. You stepped over the log you’d been sitting on, away from the fire, but also further away from Shane and the safety of his gun, towards one of the geeks. It wasn’t just ugly and rank and dead, it was terrifying. The look of it, the smell of it made your stomach sink so far, it felt like it’d fell out of your body.

It snarled and gnashed its mouth at you while its thin, wiry fingers reached for you, but all the while, you focused on its hair. It was the same in death as it was in life- long locks of protein that couldn’t hurt you. Harmless. So you aimed your knife there.

In the brain, in the brain, it has to be in the brain, don’t you know anything-

The thing stopped once your knife sunk into its skull. Its arms dropped to its hollow sides and its lifeless eyes looked at you, long enough to send a shudder through you before it dropped to the ground, taking your one and only weapon with it. 

“Get up here! Come to the RV!” you heard.

There were more screams, the thunk of childhood baseball bats slamming into hard skulls, the echoing sound of gunshots. Closer to you, though, and more urgently, there was deep guttural snarling, groaning and gurgling- the sound of the dead coming for you.

Shane had brought the children to the RV, safe, their backs leaning against the cold metal. Lori and Carol were there, Jim was at the treeline with his bat, Andrea on the ground with- with Amy. Amy’s body. You were alone. In the middle of the chaos, too far from any other living humans to take any aid.

“(Y/N)! Get up here! Jim!” Shane’s voice was hoarse.

You dove for your knife, yanking it out of the walker’s head with a squelch. You could only manage three or four steps up the hill before another undead was upon you. It was too close, its long nails a hair’s breadth away from your bare skin and its decaying teeth lunging closer with every stride. Again, you had to gather all your strength, grip your knife tight and focus- be calm enough to aim for the enemy’s brain. You had one chance, or you’d turn into one of them.

Carl would have to see it, Sophia, Lori. Daryl.

You grunted with the effort and the tip of the knife hit home and sunk into the geek’s head. This time you were able to free your knife before the thing fell to the ground. You scanned the land in front of you, looking for more threats. There were so many bodies on the ground. Bodies of people from your group, people that you’d gotten to know. They were lying still now. Leaking onto the dirt.

Then an arm wrapped around your middle and dragged you uphill. You screamed and thrashed, but whatever had you was strong.

“It’s me,” his voice rasped in your ear. 

It immediately calmed you. You held onto Daryl’s arm as if it were a buoy saving you from drowning in gray, storming waves of a murderous ocean. He led you to the others near the van and deposited you there before letting go of you.

He was back. You saw Rick, T-Dog and Glenn, all in various states of emotional disrepair, but Daryl just looked around, calmly taking in the carnage. 

“Daryl,” you said to him, “you okay?”

“Whaddah you think?” he snarled. “Ya see mah brother anywhere? Huh?”

So the moment was short lived. You ignored whatever he said next, running your hand along the outside of the RV, using it as a crutch as you moved to check on Carol and Sophia, then on Lori. You didn’t have it in you to survey much more than that. You trembled from the inside out and watched Rick hug his little boy as tears streamed down his face. 

At least they were back. 

It was somewhat painstakingly decided that you would all save the cleanup for tomorrow morning. The survivors had vans or tents to escape into. To leave the dead outside. Except for Andrea. One look at her- that was all you could handle- and you knew she wasn’t going to leave her sister any time soon.

You fell to your knees, jeans sinking into the soft dirt and stared into the flames of the campfire that was still burning strong. It was only then you found the hunting knife still in your tight grip, crusted over with brown, lumpy goo. At that point in the night, you couldn’t understand exactly what the remains were and for that, you were grateful. The bit of blade still showing reflected in the light coming from the pit, shades of orange and red glowing between your fingers. 

Shane crouched beside you and though his landing was silent and agile, you jumped.

“S’alright,” he said, taking the weapon out of your scrunched hand. “Lemme clean it.”

“I can clean it,” Daryl grumbled from above, snatching the knife from Shane. “S’mine anyway.”

Shane let it happen, concentrating on you. He carefully set a hand on your shoulder. “Ya did good,” he said.

“You too,” you answered, like a little league pitcher on the losing team. 

He stood and put his hands on his hips. “Try ta get some rest,” he said from the air.

You nodded.

Only when Shane was gone, did Daryl move closer to you. He sat on the ground and leaned back against the log the group had been using as dinner seats less than an hour ago. He sat back for a while, leaving you to watch the flames die down as he worked one of his rags into the crevices of the hunting knife. Slowly, you heard the others of the group- those living- say goodnight to each other and slide into their respective dwellings for what was left of the evening.

Distantly, though he sat just beside you, you heard Daryl speak. “S’right bout one thing.”

“Hm?”

“Ya did good. I saw ya when we were runnin’ up the hill. Doin’ what I told ya to do.”

You turned to him, but he wasn’t looking at you. Your feet stung under you, asleep after kneeling on them for so long, as you moved to sit on your bottom next to Daryl. He turned the cleaned knife in his hand before passing it you, handle out.

You shook your head. “It’s yours.”

He plopped it on your lap. “S’yours now. I gave it to ya. You’ll need it.”

You didn’t want to need it. He knew that too. All the same, it was a good thing he’d left it with you when he went to Atlanta. If he didn’t, you wouldn’t be sitting next to him right now. Speaking to him. Feeling the heat that didn’t just emit from the fire, but from him by your side as well. 

“Thank you,” you said, sliding the knife back into its sheath and into your pocket, where you hoped it would stay, unneeded for a long time. Or at least for the rest of the night.

You turned to him, but again, he wasn’t looking at you. He rarely did. But you knew he was still there, still with you by the way his head tilted towards you. Like he was watching you out of the corner of his eye. As if you were a deer in the forest, ready to bolt away from him at any moment.

“I’m sorry you didn’t find Merle.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah right. You hate Merle.”

“Hate is a strong word,” you said.

He chuckled- a grim, gruff sound deep in his chest. 

You watched him, feeling free to do so since he so rarely looked you in the eye. He was biting the inside of his lip over and over and picking at his fingernails. 

You waited.

He peeked at you, inhaling deep. “Didn’ mean ta snap atcha. Earlier.”

When he yelled, you thought. By the RV, after he’d pulled you to safety. 

You nodded. “S’alright. It’s been a tough day all around.”

Humming in agreement, he turned back to the fire. You two were square now. But you also hoped he knew that if he snapped at you like that again, you wouldn’t be so quick to forgive. 

There was a flapping from above that shook the leaves in the trees. It was a soft, peaceful sound of nature, but after this night, in this new world, it startled you to your core.

“Just a bird,” Daryl said.

You sucked in a breath that made your lungs quake in your chest. “I’m sick of being so scared all the damn time,” you mumbled, tipping your head forward, holding your face in your hands. Things had only been like this for two months? Three? And you were already exhausted, tired of it all. How much longer could you take? Or, how much longer would it take for you to just-

Daryl stood. “Come on,” he said. He waved toward his tent. “Gotta getcha away from this damn bloodbath ‘er you’ll never calm down.”

You violently shook your head. “I can’t- I don’t wanna be alone-”

He was already walking toward the tent he shared with Merle. “Yer stayin’ with me. So I know where ya are.”

Your system went from fight or flight to frozen. He- Daryl- wanted you- where? After every shove and snap and swear towards you, now he wanted you to come with him? To be in his space? Overnight?

You stared at him. He tossed his crossbow into his tent, lifting the flap and heading inside when he turned back and saw you still on the ground in front of the fire.

“Or do ya wanna stay out here alone?”

“No.”

“Then get off yer ass.”

You scrambled to your feet and scurried to the tent’s flap. You felt like a scolded child, like your dignity had been left in the dirt, but you didn’t care. After the walker attack, you couldn’t be alone and you had been trusting Daryl with your life for weeks now, not that you’d ever tell anyone that. You felt the safest when you were with him. Tonight you needed that. Especially tonight. 

“Ya can take that side,” Daryl mumbled, pointing. 

The tent was small. Big enough to stand up in, but not very wide. There were two sleeping bags strewn out close to each other with a lumpy pillow on each. He tossed an extra blanket onto the side he told you to take. It was the one with the crossbow at its foot. And you recognized his cut off flannel shoved into the duffle beside it.

“I can’t take your bed.”

“Ain’t a bed,” he said, spreading the other sleeping bag open flat and sitting on it.

“Well, I can’t take your bag.”

“Would you rather stick your face in Merle’s pillow all night?”

You grimaced, thinking of the monster of a man and what he’d probably done to that innocent pillow.

“Thought not,” Daryl said. He grumbled it, but you heard the smirk in his voice.

“The definition of ‘pick your poison’,” you said, crouching to sit on the soft sleeping bag. 

“Girl-” Daryl said, swatting at you as he rolled over, putting his back to you.

You swung back, smacking his shoulder. “I was kidding.”

In answer, he gave another blind swat, making you giggle. 

You laid back into the double layer of sleeping bag, enjoying the way it was cool to the touch underneath you. The pillow, though thin, felt nice when you situated it under your head the way you liked it. Everything around you smelled like him- gas, grease, cigarettes- yes, but something else too. It wasn’t a bad smell, just a natural one. Just Daryl.

You were laying on your side, facing him. You watched him sink into the darkness as you spun the dial on the lantern until it turned off. Dark, though it was, you could still see his form clearly. Not sleeping yet. 

“Thank you, Daryl,” you said.

He grunted, flopping to lay on his back and folding one of his arms under his head. “Get some sleep.”

It was then you realized how small the tent really was. When he laid on his back, his leg could almost touch your knee as you curled up on your side. He was an enigma, alright, you thought. Couldn’t bear to look you in the eye, saved your life, snapped at you in front of everyone and now slept beside you like it was nothing.

You sighed, following suit and laying on your back too. “Don’t think I’m gonna be able to catch much of that,” you said.

His pillow rustled as he looked toward you. “What the hell happened there?” He took your hand from where it rested over your forehead and studied the angry red scrapes and purple bruising on your knuckles. “This happen tonight?”

“No,” you said, taking your hand from his grasp and tucking it under you, embarrassed. “Happened earlier.”

“How’d you bust it up like that?”

“I, um… I just hurt it. Against Ed’s face.”

Daryl gave a laughing hiss. “I saw his face. You did that?”

“Some of it. Shane did the rest.”

“Fuck yeah.”

“He had it comin’,” you said, barely finishing the last word and regretting saying anything at all. Ed may have deserved a few punches, hell, he deserved jail time. But what happened to him tonight- eaten alive, alone- you weren’t sure anyone deserved that. It made your stomach roll in your gut and you stung with shame.

“Fucking badass, girl,” Daryl said.

It was quiet in the dark for a long moment. 

“M’not, Daryl. I’m just fucking scared.”

There was more rustling beside you as Daryl shimmied around on his sleeping bag. 

“Turn over. That way,” he said.

You did as he told you, laying on your side with your back to him. His body moved up against yours, his heat blooming on your shoulders, bum, and the backs of your legs. A little too forcefully, he lifted your head to slide his arm underneath and cradle you close.

“Ain’t nothin’ gettin’ in this tent tonight. I gotch’yer back. You can handle your front.”

You nodded, feeling tears gather in your eyes. Your cheeks were hot, as though they were on fire as you cried, finally letting out the emotion of the evening. The death, the kills, the fear, and the relief all ran down your face and into your shirt or onto Daryl’s pillow or his arm supporting your head. As your breath caught, he reached around you with his free arm, hugging you close and rubbing his thumb on the skin of your injured hand. You grasped him hard. You needed to.

Before this night, you weren’t sure what you thought of the younger Dixon brother. He was rough and nasty and you wondered just how much he took after Merle. Before this moment, you thought he’d run for the hills if you ever touched him with one single finger, nevermind your whole body- your whole being like you were now. But he was there, still with you and unbothered. Safe.

“Sleep,” he mumbled.

You nodded, squeezing his hand again before letting it go and allowing your body to relax against his. And eventually, in his arms, listening to his steady breath, you slept.

[the-queen-of-hell-666]

Babymoon

Kinktober 2024 - Day 25

Pairing: Dad!Steve Rogers x Mom!Pregnant!Fem!Reader

Kink: Lactation

Word Count: 1100+

Summary: Tony pays for you and Steve to get away before you two have a new baby on your hands.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal sex, creampie, riding, vaginal fingering, nipple play, lactation kink, milk drinking, soft sex, slow sex, slight pregnancy kink), soft!Steve, tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship

a/n: Here is Day 25! It's a soft one but I enjoyed it! I hope you all do too!

Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Sam had taken the kids for the night, so you and Steve could go on a weekend long vacation before your baby girl arrives. You two were just going up to a cabin in upstate New York that Tony paid for because he knew that you two needed some time away. You two drove in comfortable silence through the hills of upstate, you only getting nauseated once or twice during some of the rougher roads. Steve had packed your bag with water, lollipops, some crackers, and a bottle of dramamine. You were grateful that he knew what you needed before you did and that he was in tuned with your needs. He had a hand on your swollen belly the entire ride, only taking it off to sip his drink from the cup holder. 

You two finally got to the cabin and he parked in the driveway before getting out, running over and opening the door for you. He helped you out of the car and took your bag from the passenger’s seat and led you towards the cabin, “You do know that I can walk, right?” You asked as he rested a warm hand on your lower back. 

Steve chuckled and kissed your head, opening the front door for you two. “I know, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.” 

You rolled your eyes at him and you walked over to the couch, and he helped you sit down. “Dork.” You giggled and grabbed your water bottle from the side pocket of your bag and took a sip. 

He chuckled and kissed your cheek, “Wait here. I’ll go grab the bags from the car.” He walked out of the cabin and grabbed your bags from the trunk. He came back in after locking up the car and the cabin. He set them down by the bed in the middle of the cabin. It was across from the fireplace, with the plush couch pushed against the wall underneath the window. The kitchen and dining room were right beside the door and the bathroom was beside the bed. It was cozy and modern, you almost wanted to move in. 

Later that night after dinner, you and Steve were tucked into bed. He had made you, your favorite turkey chili with crackers, and he had provided you with Tums before you even had to ask for them. You laid against Steve’s bare chest as his hands rubbed your swollen belly softly, you were dozing off until you felt his warm hands move up to your sore nipples. You let out a soft gasp at his touch to your sensitive buds, you were already breastfeeding your youngest and with the baby on the way, your nipples were leaky and sore as ever. His touch shots bolts of pleasure and slight pain up your spine. 

“Steve, mm, we can’t. We might wake the-” You stopped your sentence, realizing that you two were alone for the first time in years. You turned to him with a knowing smile and he smirked and wrapped his arms around your hips and pulled you into his bare lap. “We don’t have to be quiet.” You giggled and cupped his face and yanked him down to kiss you passionately. 

He groaned against your lips as you tugged him closer by his hair, your fingers tugging on his blonde locks. “I should’ve taken you on a vacation sooner.” He chuckled as you pulled away with puffy lips and a lustful look in your eyes. 

You smirked at him and ran your fingers through his hair, “You should’ve. Stark had only been offering since Sarah came along.” You giggled and he rolled his eyes playfully at you. 

“Wanted to spend all of my time with her then James came around and it was never the right time.” He shrugged and you nodded in understanding and he leaned down and took your leaking nipple into his warm mouth. You moaned at the warmth of his lips wrapping around your peaked nipple, he moaned as he tasted your sweet milk fill his mouth. He swallowed each drop and you moaned at the relief it gave you as the soreness began to give way with each suck. His large hand moved down to your bare core and he slid two fingers into your soaked cunt. He stroked along your walls slowly, curling them against your walls, aiming to hit that sweet spot deep inside of you. 

You moaned louder as he thrusted his fingers in and out slowly, “F-fuck, it’s been too long.” You moaned, feeling sensitive due to your pregnancy. It only took him speeding up his fingers and giving a hard suck on your nipples to push you over the edge. You cried out, gripping his shoulders tight as you shook with your orgasm, your thighs feeling weak as he stroked you through your orgasm. 

“Good girl. You’re always so good for me.” He mumbled against your temple as he pressed a soft kiss to your skin. He slowly pulled his fingers out of you, taking them into his mouth, moaning at your taste as it coats his tongue. He reached down to line his cock up to your hole and help you slowly sink down on his length. You gasped and moaned as he filled you up, “Fuck, you’re tight and wet for me, doll. You feel so perfect.” He groaned and rested his forehead against yours. 

You whined softly as he leaned back down and took a nipple into his mouth, he suckled on your breast as he slowly moved your hips up and down on his throbbing length. You felt your orgasm coming on quicker with each thrust of his cock. He drank from your nipple greedily, making your walls quiver around him with each suck. You yanked him closer to your chest, your fingers tangled in his hair as you felt the coil snap in your belly. You came gushing around his cock, he groaned and grunted as he pulled you flush against his lap as he hit his orgasm. His tip shot his hot cum inside of you, painting your walls white with his seed. You two slumped against each other and he pulled off your nipple and kissed your lips passionately. 

He cleaned you two up after a little bit and he helped you back into bed. He laid behind you after shutting the lights off with the dim glow of the fireplace lighting up the room. He nuzzled into your neck as his arms wrapped around your swollen belly, rubbing your belly with one hand. You smiled softly and pressed yourself flush against his chest, and you two dozed off, without the worry of waking up to a screaming baby. You two could just enjoy each other that night.

[lillian-gallows]

Kinktober Day 3: High sex with Wade Wilson/Deadpool

Pairing: Wade Wilson/Deadpool X Fem!Reader Word Count: 1462 Warnings: recreational drug use, Shotgunning, P in V sex, These two are so soft I love it.

Kinktober 2024 Master(sub)list.

Minors DNI

It happened. You've died and gone to Heaven.

That's the only explanation for how perfect this day is.

It was another sesh day for you and Wade, and when you'd woken up that morning it was to the sound of soft pitter-patters as rain landed on your window, the sky dark and grey with the occasional break to let just enough light through to make the water droplets everywhere look like little diamonds.

The weed was hitting especially nicely, making your head feel light and drifty, your limbs both buzzing and leaden as you lounged back against Wade's chest, feeling it rise and fall with his steady breaths, his strong legs caging you in on either side.

There was a half-eaten bag of cheesy crackers on the table next to you, and in the back of your mind you remembered that there was a melty tuna casserole in the kitchen for later.

Wade himself was trailing his hand up and down your arm absentmindedly as he watched the T.V. playing some trashy daytime show. He had his mask on, still not quite ready to go without it around you, but you were happy to wait, as long as he was still there you were happy.

As you watched him, he turned and looked down at you. "Sup, Smiley?" He asked, poking your flushed cheek with a finger, which made you puff them out jokingly in response, pulling stoned giggles from both of you.

"Nothin', just really happy." You answered once you'd caught your breath, reaching up for the blunt hanging from the fingers of his other hand, plucking it from his hold and taking a long slow drag, holding the smoke for a moment before letting it curl slowly from between your lips.

You could feel Wade's gaze on you as your half lidden eyes watched the sunshine through the silver cloud moving slowly up, forming abstract shapes. "Well, ain't that a sight..." He murmured and you half expected there to be some dirty conclusion to that sentence, but there wasn't, he just kept watching you.

Tilting your head back you turned your gaze away from the smoke cloud to look up at him, a lazy smile warming your face. "Who? Me?" You asked coyly, suddenly feeling a different kind of buzz under your skin. "Can we do the thing?" You asked sweetly, knowing he couldn't say no to your cute face.

You could see his smile through the mask, and he nodded, plucking the joint from your fingers and holding away at a safe distance so you could change positions.

His free hand helped you stay steady as you shifted till you were straddling his lap, you could feel the press of the slowly forming erecting, not even at half-mast yet but already well on its way.

As you settled, his hands came to rest on your lower back, pulling you slowly closer, you naturally arched into his touch, pressing your chest to his as your faces hovered an inch from each other, desperate to press your lips to his but parted by his mask.

"Can I...?" You asked softly, voice thin as the smoke still floating in the air. He knew exactly what you were asking, and he felt his chest swell as he watched you wait for his answer, obviously itching to hear a yes, but so ready to accept a no.

"Yeah, Sweets. Go ahead." He said it lightly, like he didn't actually care that much, but you felt his heart skip a beat, you felt the hitch in his breath. It always made him a little nervous, even though he knew you didn’t care how he looked.

So, with that in mind, you moved slow as you lifted a hand, fingers slipping under the hem and brushing the soft scarred skin of his neck. His breath hitched again, but for a different reason as you felt the stirring pressed against your center.

You pulled the mask up to his nose, giving you just enough exposure to get to his lips.

He brought the blunt to his lips and took a slow drag, and you were sure he was watching you watch him, his lips pursing as he inhaled, face lit up slightly more by the cherry.

You were hypnotized by him.

The hit was held for half the time he normally would before his free hand took hold of your jaw, guiding your lips till they hovered so close you could feel his heat but somehow not touching.

You had to remind yourself to inhale the smoke and not just stare at him as he exhaled slowly.

You tried to picture his expression under the mask, eyes half lidden and a little red and watery, pupils dilated as arousal started to trickle into his veins.

You were pretty sure he didn't have any hair, given that there hasn't been any to be found on the rest of his body, of it that you've seen in the light, so you were willing to bet he didn't have eyelashes, but your brain supplied you with the mental image of them fluttering as his eyes closed.

The faint brush of the smoke passing from him to you suddenly consumed all your attention, pulling it in to hold for but a moment, an ultimately useless moment given how high you already are, before tilting your head back, giving Wade a nice view of the collum of your neck.

If you were to ask Wade why he did what he did next, he'd probably hit you with a dirty quip or joke, but the truth is it was pure instinct for him to wrap his hand around your neck, hand curving around so his fingertips rested over your pulse points.

His skin was so hot against yours, the callouses on his fingers left a tingling sensation. If all he did was hold you like this, you'd have been happy, but instead he gave a gentle squeeze, testing the waters, finding the boundary of Just Right and Too Much.

And he knows he's found it when you're wiggling on his lap, your cunt grinding against his cock with the irritating barriers of your clothes.

Wade likes a good long tease before getting to the meat and potatoes of fucking, loves the sweet torture of getting edged a good few (dozen) times.

But right now, he wanted to bask in you. In how you made him feel high as much as the actual drug.

It was a slow and lazy process, getting both your pants off or pushed down enough to get the job done, hands moving slow, pawing gently at each other.

But once your leggings and panties are hanging from one of your ankles and his own sweats and boxers are shoved down, you're right back to grinding against him, coating his thick length in the abundant wetness that's accumulated between your thighs.

Your hands gripped at his shoulders for stability as you rocked against him. "Wade..." You breathed against his lips, skin brushing ever so slightly. You're not sure what you're trying to draw his attention to, or even if that's what you were doing at all. Maybe you were just saying his name to taste it.

"I gotcha, Sweets." He said softer than you've ever heard him be.

Suddenly you needed him inside you yesterday, so with a tilt of your hips and a guiding hand you sank down on his cock, a high whine escaping your lips at the full feeling.

You felt rather than heard the low moan that rumbled in Wade's chest as you settled all the way down, taking his full length. "Fucking fuck you feel incredible...Fuck..." He muttered against your neck as he trailed lips and teeth, undoubtedly leaving marks in his wake as he nipped and bit.

The slow rock of your hips was every bit as lazy as the removal of your clothes had been. As was the kiss you two shared, all slow messy tongues and playful teeth. Hands roamed, kneading and squeezing here and there as they went but never staying in one spot for long.

Your orgasm snuck up on you, and unlike the crashing waves of pleasure, it was more like a gentle lapping of heat in your belly.

The flutter of your pussy pulled a groan from Wade, but he never stopped moving. His own hips picking up where your left off as you rode out your orgasm. "That's it, Baby." He encouraged as one of his hands moved from where it had been gripping your hip down to rub slow lazy circles on your clit as he began to roll his hips up into your in earnest.

"I'm far from done with you."

God, you hoped so.

[tremendouscreationperson]

Logan x Reader pt.6

I know it took forever please forgive me!

I have a couple more ideas for this, if you guys want it to continue

If you think I'm just milking please it let me know, there's so many better fic writers out there I really didnt think this would blow up like it did 🫶

<< Part 5 Part 7 >> Masterlist

You had thought scavenging was difficult however as you stared at the immensely filled shelves you realised choosing was harder. You’d thought to purchase some crackers, just to see if Laura had preferences; however there were twelve different types of Goldfish and Goldfish was just one brand. This whole aisle was overflowing with crackers. It was insane. Who needed this many choices?

Elektra, Gambit and Blade had tagged along, the latter only for company, and they all seemed to be in the same position. Tired eyes mindlessly scanning for anything familiar. Anything that sounded good. Did you even remember the taste of ‘spicy chilli’? Or did you prefer ‘sour cream and chives’?

The shelves were too much and they were tall. You couldn't see over them, couldn't see potential threats or keep an eye on the exits. Why did the aisles need to be this long? They were endless. Endless and bright and colourful and the store was loud. Why were there children running around? There could be anyone around the corner. Each stomp of little feet drilled a hole in your head.

Picking up speed you rounded the corner and hid yourself by a pillar. The thing was an eyesore for the employees, they definitely had trouble stocking the shelves around it, but to you it was bliss.

You rest your forehead against the cool metal and force the air out of your lungs. You took in a big gulp before forcing it out again.

The noise of the store was drowned out by your breathing, by your hammering heart. You could hear vague snippets but it sounded like when an explosion was too close. Warped and muffled at the same time.

“Mon cher?” Gambit placed a light hand on your shoulder, despite how careful he was it still caused you to jerk. “Y/N. You 're okay.” You couldn't tell what was happening but your head was moving. Was it nodding or shaking? Your mouth opened to respond but nothing, bar a few halfhearted noises, could come out. “Y/N.” He tried again, but this had never happened. You'd never felt like this. This pain in your chest. Was… did you survive the Void to have a heart attack? “‘m get ‘ogan.”

You deliriously gave him a thumbs up.

Without any sort of logic or proof you knew the floor was safe. Of course it was, it was a constant. The floor would never leave. It couldn't. So you knelt down, your knees against the linoleum and your head still against the pillar. Or was it a beam? Why was this happening? You used to be able to do this. Why couldn't you fucking shop? All this time you'd had dreams of normality and now it was here and you were too crazy to be here?

Maybe you belonged in the Void. Then again, maybe this was Cassandra. You had thought it previously, everything was far too easy. She could be laughing her ass off at how you reacted to a fake superstore. Imagine.

Noise had slowly started to come back but it was too loud. Too much. Too bright. Why was it so bright? Why did people need to be blasted in the face to see what toothpaste they needed?

Maybe this was it.

Maybe it was the end of the line.

You were just rewatching your life.

That would be... nice.

To know that there was an end.

God, that was depressing.

You didn't mean it that way and you don't know why you thought it but it actually brought you some comfort.

Not enough to stop you hyperventilating on the dirty floors, though.

“Baby?” That was Logan now. Why was he always there to save you? He didn't have to be. Hell, he didn't know you. You might be the worst version of yourself and here he was doting over you.

You didn't deserve that.

What had you done to deserve that type of love?

He had sat out on the fire escape all night and you can't even pick up fucking crackers.

Who even likes crackers!?

“Baby?” He repeated, closer now.

You turned to the side and saw him but also saw through him.

“Can you tell me your name?”

What sort of mind fuckery was this? He knows your name. “Y/N L/N.” Your voice was tiny but he could see the way your mouth formed the words.

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

Your eyes stayed trained on his face but you answered using your peripheral. “Two.” The word still small and but now just hardly audible.

“And what's this?” You let your eyes meander down to his hand and saw he was pointing at a scrubbing brush you were hunched by.

You felt your brows pull together in confusion. “Cleaning thing.”

He let out an amused huff but was sincere with his words. “Now, love, what can you hear?”

Hear? You can hear everything. Him mostly. There were footsteps and trolley wheels and the buzzing of the speakers and constant rustling of shopping bags or plastic packaging and chattering and the child running riot was now crying and the checkouts were beeping and the deli counter number was called. “Rustling?”

“What else?”

“Crying.”

“One more?” His voice had lowered, he was more breathy.

“Your breath.”

“Can you follow my breathing?”

It was even. He was breathing in and out. Like literally every other living creature. Even trees could breathe.

“Are you able to move your hand?” He continued, tapping his chest. “Put it here?”

Of course, who did he take you for? You shakily slapped it onto his chest and he held it tight. Taking in the largest breath and releasing it slowly.

He repeated that for a while and slowly you found yourself assimilated. You were copying him with perfect movements.

The constant humming in your head had stopped, the noises were bearable, the lights even seemed duller. “I- I think I'm okay now?”

“Can you stand?” His eyes were darting all over your face, trying to gauge a reaction.

You bit your lip and nodded, moving stiff legs and easing your way up. He was swift with his movements making sure you were one hundred percent okay on your wobbly legs before he stepped back.

“That's never happened before.” You felt tired, drained. Your whole body was on fire. Why was it so sore? You had mentally freaked out and now your body was aching?

“It was an anxiety attack.” He voiced the obvious but could tell you were going to argue so carried on. If he was talking you had to listen. “They're not uncommon for those who've suffered. I’ve had them due to my PTSD.” Maybe you'd feel at ease if you knew he got them as well.

“But I don't have PTSD.”

“I think you might,” You scrunch your face. “the years spent in the Void, couldn't have been easy.”

“We survived.”

“That's what VETs say.”

Your rebuttal died on your tongue as you took two seconds to actually think about it. He might be onto something. “Is that why Stark said we need a therapist?”

“Possibly.”

“The whole time I was in the Void this didn't happen.” You grumbled. “Just carried on.”

“You didn't have time then. Your brain can now process your trauma.” Damn, Lydia - his therapist - was a genius. “In a weird way this is being healthy.”

“It's called an atta-” You huffed, hugging your middle. “I don't care what's happening, I just don't want Laura to see.” You had separated in the store to cover more ground. She had wanted to wander, to see the store for herself, and you had thought you'd be able to gather everything by the time she was headed back to you.

“She may need to see. She mig-she feels like she has to be strong.” He knew what Laura thought because she was him. “She needs to be shown this is okay.”

You were getting frustrated now. “Okay but not yet. Just- I just want a nap. My head hurts. My body, too.”

“Okay, we can leave.” It was not even noon, the others would ask questions about your sleeping pattern.

“Oh wait, no, I don't want her to worry about being noisy.” You tapped your teeth together as you wracked your brain. “Can I nap in your room?”

“Of course.” He would never deny you that, it also was a win-win as he could monitor you without Laura's beady eyes stalking him.

~~

It was safe to say that your “sickness” was the worst kept secret. It was obvious to everyone what had happened and even Wade seemed concerned. So much that he postponed the party.

Logan had settled you into his bed hours ago, checking on you periodically and was just waiting for you to rise. He had nothing better to do.

You were his world.

Laura had knocked once to see if there were any updates but he had told her the truth. That he had nothing to tell and was worried himself.

She walked back with slumped shoulders, a sliver of guilt slid up Logan's back but she was gone before he could make amends.

Another knock pulled him from Laura's disappointed eyes. Logan hoisted himself off of the armchair and opened the door to see Elektra.

She reminded him of Jean in a lot of ways.

“Here.” El handed a bag over. Logan frowned and opened it to see a multi coloured box. He and you had left the store earlier than the others to get home. He had made no purchases, leaving his basket of goods on the floor where you had slumped over. He hated himself for letting you out of his sight but you had strode off so confidently and Blade was talking to him about different moterbikes. Logan was distracted for a millisecond and you had vanished. Why did he take you guys to a store that large?

“Uh.” He didn't know what to say.

“Just invite Laura over and play these.” She spelt it out. “The kid’s worried sick and won't listen to us.”

He accepted the bag and nodded once. “Okay.”

If loving you meant loving Laura he could do that. He didn't dislike the kid but he saw so much of himself in her. And he hated himself.

El turned on her heel and entered her own door, opposite his.

Logan itched his chin and sighed, walking next door. He knocked twice and waited.

Laura opened the door in a grey hoodie and your fluffy socks. “Hello.”

“You, uh, you wanna play connect four?” He shook the plastic bag.

Laura eyed the bag but nodded once and followed him into his home.

Logan's apartment was the same as yours except he had added throws, blankets, books, CDs and LPs and many more home comforts in preparation for your arrival. His home was decidedly cosier and Laura didn't hate it.

“She's still asleep so I thought we could pass the time together.” He spoke as he sat at the dining table. Laura stood behind the chair to his right and awaited instructions. “You can sit, I just need to set this up.”

Logan unravelled the contents of the bag and found Guess Who and Sorry we're sitting beneath Connect Four. He left them both on the table and delved into the first game.

Building the game wasn't difficult and explaining it to Laura was as easy as saying “connect four of the same colour, either portrait, landscape or diagonal”. The picture on the box was practically instructions.

But playing against her was challenging. She knew how to think like him, knew how to outsmart him.

It occurred to him that she was always observing people. She knew his tells. She was always present and did contribute to the conversation but she preferred to watch. To take in.

Laura was very good at connecting four so after a few games he pulled out Guess Who. That was a little bit more complicated.

“Are you George?”

Logan had thought to pick George but went for a random number - seven - and counted his way along the board. “No. Do you have long hair?”

“I do.” She agreed and he flipped the heads. “I was drawn to George so I thought you might've been.”

“You're onto something there.” Logan sipped his cola. He made sure there were snacks and drinks available.

“Blue eyes?”

“No.”

“I don't know how they got your DNA.” Laura had felt guilty. She knew her Logan didn't ask for her to be born and this one didn't even know she was a thing.

“Been around a long time.” He shrugged. “You'll have that to look forward to.”

“How long?”

“Lipstick?” She shook her head. “I've been around a good two-three hundred years.”

Laura let that settle. Would she be around that long? The doctors did thousands of tests on her but none said she'd live an extended period. “Blonde?”

Logan nodded, noticing the shift in her demeanour. “You okay?”

“That is a long time to be alive.” She picked up a chip and snapped it in half. “Y/N will be dead. And El. And Gambit.”

“You might not live as long.” He tried to make that sound like a good thing. “What's your healing factor like?”

“I've never been ‘injured’.”

He thought about that. He couldn't ask her if she had died. That might be too much for the young woman. “And the Adamantium?”

Laura frowned.

“Your claws.”

“What about them?” Finally popping the chip in her mouth.

“The metal isn't part of the mutation.”

“What?” Laura revealed her claws. They came out sharp and shiny. “They've always been like this.”

A little girl. A small child having the procedure that almost killed him. She definitely would live as long as he does. “It's bone, they added the metal.”

Laura observed her claws, hand swivelling. She had never known them to be bone. Would they even be effective?

“It's alright, though,” he shrugged, giving her a cheesy thumbs up. “You have Blade and me to keep you company.” Laura smiled and rolled her eyes. “Are you Claire?”

~~

The next few days were okay. You were still achy and found it difficult to move but you weren't totally invalid.

In fact you were playing with your newest toy. A telecommunication device. Or a phone.

Wade had burst into the front room, you all collectively sat in, paper bags in hand.

“Guys, I hope you know how odd it was for me to walk in there and ask for five phones. They thought I was a drug dealer.”

Blind Al kissed her teeth. “You could've been buying company phones, idiot.”

“Oh.” Wade slumped. “Maybe it was the meth I offered the cashier…” He handed each of you a box and squeezed himself between Gambit and Al.

There were two sofas that you all were occupying. You were sitting next to Logan, a blanket covering the two of you. Laura was sitting on the floor in front of you, she had done so you could braid her hair but decided to stay. El was perched on the arm of Al’s sofa, Gambit and Wade next to Al, and Blade was standing at Logan's side.

The setup of each phone was easy. Technology was a lot faster than you remembered.

El spoke before you all got distracted. “We have to save each other's numbers.” She knew the collective braincell liked to wander.

Each of you read out your number whilst the others typed it in. But as that happened the phones asked for a contact picture. Now that caused chaos.

El was smiling sweetly in the first pic and looked like she was being held hostage in the last. Gambit had his eyes shut and a middle finger up in practically every one. Blade was exactly the same, it was eerie, he stood statue still as you all snapped him. Laura’s eyes were confused but she did force a smile. You threw up a peace sign just for Wade to tell you it wasn't 2001 anymore. Wade had a different pose for each phone and they were all more elaborate than the last. Al didn't want to participate at all. And finally Logan, much like Laura, faked a smile until you and her took the pics.

Photos were fun. You liked photos. You'd had a trusty Polaroid back in the day and loved snapping pictures, but this was amazing. The photos were really detailed and you had them all saved in a ‘gallery’.

“You happy with the camera?” Logan asked as he saw you in the settings reading what each symbol meant.

“Yeah it's really good and I can take front facing photos.” You smiled at yourself. “Look!” Logan's eyes dropped to his face and he raised an eyebrow as you tapped the button. He huffed out a disbelieving laugh and you snapped again. “You're smiling!” You giggled to yourself, leaning forward. “Laura look.” Laura was playing about with dark mode and she turned her head to see you and her. “We can take a photo.”

Laura smiled and you poked your tongue out as you snapped. You made a heart shape with your hand and got her to copy it, snapping another.

“Logan, get in.” You begged.

He sighed - completely for show - and moved closer. “This angle is all chins.”

You frowned.

“Laura, come and sit up here.” He pat the slither of space between you two. She complied and you tried to get everyone in. “Y/N angle the phone.” You did as instructed and you all smiled.

The phone was heavy in your hands and an awkward shape, your old phone was a flip and easier to hold. “Do the heart thing whilst I hold this.”

The wolverines did.

You took some more, without noticing Wade was in the background, and eventually ceased, sixty-four photos later.

“This is so much fun.”

Wade watched you swiping through the photos, “Just you wait, pumpkin, ‘til you get a hold of the apps.”

“Apps?”

“Like little things on your phone.” He scrunched his face. “Like Snapchat or Instagram or Facebook.”

“I know Facebook.” You nodded. “It was an internet thing, like MySpace.”

“Now it's on an app.”

“Oh.” Was all you had in response. Wade showed you how to get to the app store - Logan, carefully, watching to make sure he wasn't being a little shit - and showed you how to ‘download an app’.

“I have to put my phone number in?” You stared at the screen.

“If that's what it says.” Wade had noticed Al and Gambit speaking again so upped and left. He laid himself across the two of them. “Just follow the steps.”

Okay.

You could do that.

Shit.

The first hurdle.

It asked for your date of birth.

Technically your date of birth was different now, no?

“What do I put?” You asked Logan over Laura's head. “I'm not that old.”

“Just do the maths, put the correct day and month but subtract the years.” He suggested.

“My date of birth would mean I can't have this app.” Laura commented. “Not over eighteen.” She had followed the instructions Wade told you and was now in the same dilemma.

“Do the same but backwards.” Logan tried.

You both, then, had to pick a profile picture. You had the photos on your phone and picked one of you three.

“I don't have a photo of myself.” Laura pressed the camera button and jumped. “Do-do I just take one?”

You smiled. “If you want to.”

“You don't have to have a picture.” Logan supplied.

Laura bit her lip but did decide to take one, she gave a small smile. “Is that okay?”

“You look lovely.” You squeezed her arm.

The two of you had just finished messing about with Facebook when you both received a notification.

‘Elektra Natchios had sent a friend request’, you looked up at her and quickly added.

Gambit and Blade didn't delve into Facebook, the former said he couldn't be bothered the latter told you it was too public.

You suppose Blade is right. But at the same time this is familiar. This is a way to find people. To potentially seek out your family. Or at least see if they exist.

You were just putting the phone away when another friend request popped up. ‘Logan Howlett has sent you a friend request’. He had no profile picture or cover photo and no posts. He did have friends, some of whom you recognised as the X-Men.

“Do you speak to them?” You swivelled your phone, displaying the friends.

“Charles has told them who I am and why I'm here. They accept anyone, they were eager to listen to my story. Probably waiting for you, now.”

“I don't think I can just add them.” Your fingers hovered over Hank’s fuzzy face.

“Then don't.”

“Why don't you have any pictures?”

“I don't really do pictures.”

You weren't too quick but opened your gallery. “You did here.”

“That was with you two.” He gave you a half shrug. “It's different.”

~~

Texting was fun.

You taught Laura all the old slang you used to use. BRB, LOL, TTYL, 411.

Laura did use some of them but preferred to text properly, she had spent a good portion of her time in EDEN and the Void learning basic reading and writing, why would she throw that away?

You were laying in Logan's bed, having claimed it four days ago, listening as his TV played music. He had shown you how to go onto YouTube via the TV and you were very much a fan of these Apps. You did feel a little guilty because you had effectively intruded on his space but his bed was comfy and smelled like him. God it was heavenly.

Why did he smell so good?

Y/N: nighty night beautiful x

Laura: Goodnight x

You had drilled into Laura the importance of kisses. A kiss at the end of the text was vital.

You came out of your messages, having texted the others ‘night’.

Gambit: see ya tomorrow

El: Night, love x

Blade: night

It was a routine you all wouldn't dare abandon. Whether or not you lived in this apartment all your lives you knew you'd all stick to saying goodnight. You had done for five years.

You pressed on Logan's name and sent him a message.

“Why are you texting me?” Logan called through the wall. You could hear his footsteps, sitting up, you waited. It wasn't long before the door was opened and Logan revealed himself.

Jesus. H. Christ.

Why was he shirtless? Your brain short circuited whenever his wide chest and mouth watering abs were in view. His torso was covered in soft hair your fingers itched to grab.

“I-I was just saying ‘night’.” You snapped your jaw shut.

“Oh, I thought you needed me.” He ran a hand through his hair.

You liked his short hair but you missed his fluffy locks. Nothing better than running your hands through them.

You were both now just gazing at each other.

He looked glorious, you felt self conscious. He could literally be a Grecian God, you could picture statues being made in his honour.

“You wanna-” Your eyes darted away. “You wanna sit with me?”

Why were you so awkward?

This was your husband friend.

Logan’s eyes widened an inch but he did nod. “Yeah sure.”

He made his way to the right side and plonked down. His weight caused you to slide a little over but you quickly righted yourself. You plucked the remote off of your knees and turned David Bowie down.

“I wanted to thank you.” You fiddled with the remote. “And I'm sorry I've stolen your bed.”

Logan shrugged. “You weren't well and I'd never kick you out of my bed.”

He was admitting things that were as innocent as they were damning.

“You're cute.”

“Hmm.” He raised his brow. “I remember you claiming that.”

There wasn't much more to say, instead you both listened as ‘ashes to ashes’ changed to ‘modern love’.

“This was my favourite song.” You commented, leaning your temple on his shoulder.

“I remember.” He agreed.

Pulling your head up in shock, “you do?”

“Yeah.” His eyes glanced at the screen. “My Y/N liked it too.”

“Do you- is this weird?”

“I don't know.”

“Do you miss your Y/N?”

He considered the question. “I didn't have enough of her. I think I missed the 'what ifs' and now I know you and him were married, it feels worse. What about you?”

“I miss him, it is a little weird to see you walking around with his face. It's odd because we slept together and I am attracted to you but there's that obstacle. Now the world isn't ending, we have to face the consequences of our actions, you know?” You hoped he understood what you meant. “Is it wrong to want you? You are so much like him yet I don't know you.”

You had said a lot of really important things, however he was stuck on just one. “You want me?”

That caused you to chuckle. “Of course, look at yourself. Sex on legs.”

He didn't care for moral dilemmas the way you did. You wanted him. He wanted you. It may just be his animal brain but, surely, that was the end of it.

“I mean you almost killed me walking in here all shirtless and tanned.”

You were trying to joke to defuse the tension but his eyes told you it wasn't working. They were heavy, lidded and staring straight into your soul. “As if you in my shirt, in my bed, hasn't done the same.” He spoke directly to your lips.

Oh yeah. For quickness you had borrowed a shirt, using it as a nightie. “Please, I'm not nearly as gorgeo-”

He cut you off with a kiss.

You melted.

Of course you did.

It was Logan.

Your hands found his cheek and chest. Both threading through the respective hair.

Logan slid his tongue across your bottom lip in a silent question and you were quick to answer. He kissed you frantically, needing you more than oxygen.

You were slowly being pressed into the mattress. It was a perk of the Adamantium, he was heavier than he meant and that solid mass turned you on.

You had to break the kiss to catch your breath and he merely explored your neck. Your ragged breaths were now being cut off as you spluttered and gasped.

Fuck.

Your hand on his cheek had meandered to his nape where you tugged at the hair as you twitched in pleasure, your back arching.

What were you saying earlier?

Consequences of actions?

None of that mattered when he bit down.

The position that he had manoeuvred you in caused your left leg to wrap around his hip as he kept nipping your neck. He loved to mark you.

Even if he didn't ‘claim’ you as his, back in the day, everyone knew because he would mark you. It was the animal in him. He needed the world to know who you belonged to.

“Logan.” You let out a breathy whisper against his temple.

The man raised his head to gaze into your eyes. Fuck. They were blown wide.

“Tell me to stop.” He warned.

You couldn't. Why would you?

Your response was a silent head shake.

Logan's eyes landed back onto your lips and he dipped to devour them.

His hands, that had been at your sides, were moving in opposite directions. One slid up to rest just under your breast and the other travelled down. Fingers tickling a path down to your core.

He played with the waistband of your underwear, pulling it taught against you and watching the wet patch smear.

Logan smirked and kissed your chin, then your neck, your collar bone, spent a while on your chest - licking and biting, claiming you, yet again - and then your stomach and finally kissed the material just above your core.

He swiped his tongue along the fabric and barely loosened his hold, before tearing it with his teeth.

By fuck.

This man would kill you one day.

The torn fabric hung loosely as he nuzzled his way between your folds, forcing your thighs over his shoulders. His nose separated the slick lips as he then ran his tongue across them. He fluttered his tongue around the wet hole and collected the slick on his muscle before depositing it on your clit. He took extra care caressing the sensitive bud, swirling his tongue sweetly.

The noises that came out of your mouth were whorish, you sounded like a two-bit 80s porn star and he loved every one.

Eventually Logan added a finger to your hole, it eased in, and curled it as he pumped his hand.

You tried so hard to keep it down, to try to sound less pornographic, but he was a monster. He knew how to get you going. In fact you were on the verge right now. Any second you'd be cumming on his finger.

“Keep going.” You begged.

Logan hummed in response and it vibrated your clit.

“Fuck, do that again.”

He began humming as he added a second finger and you saw stars. You clamped down and let out a moan as you came.

He kept pumping his fingers and lapped up your slick until you groaned and tapped his shoulder to give you a moment's respite.

Logan stilled his tongue with a frown but kissed your thighs, biting the pillowy flesh.

“Shit.” You looked down, dazed, at his smug face. “Fuck, you're perfect.”

“I can take my time with you now.” He admitted. “I couldn't back in the Void, not like I wanted to.”

“You did a pretty good job then, too.” You recalled.

He rolled his eyes but continued placing languid kisses on your abdomen. “You are the perfect one. This pussy is delicious.”

His devotion caused you to bite your lip. “Fuck me.” You order.

“I like it down here.” He suggested nuzzling his nose on your clit.

Your argument died with the groan that forced its way out of you.

He sucked at your clit and you swore you ripped strands of his hair out. It was a shame because his hair was so soft.

Logan lapped at your pussy all he wanted, building you up slowly.

“Do me a favour?” He spoke between your folds, they muffled him a little. “Hands and knees?”

You nodded, deliriously and eased your way up, spinning to present yourself like a needy bitch.

Logan growled at the sight, your dripping pussy spread for him.

He buried his face, again, but carried on upwards. His tongue now circling your other hole. You twitched at the new sensation but found you enjoyed it just as much so let him have his fun.

He kept playing with you, teasing you with his fingers until you were shaking.

“Logan.” You warned.

He seemed to understand because he kept the same rhythm, rather than interrupting, and you came again.

He milked your orgasm again and licked a stripe from your clit to your ass, across your spine and back up to your neck.

“Mine.” He growled in your ear as you felt his tip line up. Both of his hands were on you, underneath his shirt, caressing your tits so it amazed you that you felt him notch and slowly ease his head into you.

Your eyes crossed in pleasure as he pulled out and pushed back in, the hole so wet it squelched louder than you could moan.

He huffed, unhappy with your shirt and ripped another item of clothing you were wearing. The shirt was discarded behind you but the waistband of your panties still sat on your hips, slowly moving higher with each thrust.

You knew he was holding himself back, afraid he'd hurt you, so as he pushed in you pushed back.

You cried out as he hit that spot inside you. “Harder.”

Logan caught your drift and picked up the pace. It really didn't take a lot of convincing.

He slammed into you from behind, pushing you further into the mattress, making you present yourself more.

He sat up and if he could die, he wanted this to be the last thing he saw.

You were amazing.

He collected all of your hair and eased you upwards, once again, nipping at your nape. There was something about the nape that transfixed him. He loved your smell and you smelt the most from your nape, he adored it but his own mingled with yours was something else entirely.

He needed you.

It was so painfully obvious.

How had he not admitted that to his version of you?

What a fucking idiot he was.

“Lo.” You could only say his name but he knew. You were close.

“Mmhmm.” He agreed, nibbling your earlobe. “I need another one, c’mon.”

You couldn't even hear his request over your third orgasm. This was different though. This was wetter. You instantly worried, what was happening? But Logan gasped.

“Fuck.” He stuttered inside you, pushing you down as his claws made an appearance at each side of your shoulders. “Fuck did you just squirt?”

“I-I don't know.” Your voiced muffled into the pillow, a hand patted your utterly soaked legs. “I've not done that before.”

He groaned, still rocking inside you. Logan held himself up via his claws and pounded into you with a whole new energy. He was frantic, frenzied. It didn't take long for him to spill inside.

His claws still barely held his weight but he wouldn't crush you.

“Shit, sorry.” He spoke once his senses returned. “I should've as-”

“Shut up, that was more than fine.” You panted against the pillow.

Logan kissed your temple and slowly retracted from the mattress and you. As soon as he was out you felt empty.

“Hmm.” You grumbled.

“What?” He chuckled.

“Put it back in.”

Logan knew you were real but he found himself in disbelief that someone this perfect could exist.

“Let's swap positions and I will.” He flopped over onto his spine and you followed sheathing his dick back into you.

You groaned and found yourself relaxing onto his chest.

This was possibly the best day you'd ever had.

“I'm sleepy but wake me up in an hour and we can do that again.” You gave him a cheeky wink.

Part 7

@geeksareunique @lovelyvaderx @melissa-ashe @st1nkabutt @maximumchilddreamland @ravenmedows @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @bisasterbisexual @tzurue @narniansmagic @seamlessepiphany

[woso-dreamzzz]

Babysitting

Zećira Mušović x Hardersson!Reader

Johanna Rytting Kaneryd x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your mothers go out and your babysitters get stressed

Wrapped up in Morsa's blanket and Momma's old jumper, you look especially cute and snuggly.

If Zećira and Johanna ignore your red-rimmed eyes and the anxious little pitter-patter of your feet as you sit with your knees up to your chest, you would almost look peaceful.

Magda and Pernille have gone out for the night, some awards show that was just the same as all the others. But, with both of them up for an award, they couldn't use you as an excuse to get out of it.

So, that left you with your temporary babysitters.

There was a list of instructions pinned to the fridge but neither were quite sure how to look after you in the comfort of your own home.

You'd gotten whiny when your mothers left, bursting into tears and crying for a long while before you calmed yourself by wrapping Morsa's blanket around you like a cape and forcing Momma's old jumper over your head.

You're sitting on the floor now, back pressed up against the sofa with a clear view of the front door just in case it opens. You've got lego bricks surrounding you and Zećira sits opposite, helping you choose which pieces to click into place.

You're a little antsy and anxious but Johanna and Zećira keep walking on eggshells around you. Johanna in particular, walks laps around the kitchen, trying to work out what was suitable to feed a little kid.

You finish your first little flower and get up off the floor. Zećira makes an aborted movement to grab you for reasons unknown and you give her a weird look.

She looks back at you.

You blink.

She blinks.

You go to Johanna in the kitchen and tug on her trousers. "Juice, please," You say.

She looks down at you in shock, for some reason. Like she wasn't in the house where you lived.

Both she and Zećira are being weird today.

"Juice, please," You say again.

"Right! Right, yeah." She nods several times before swinging open the fridge. She grabs the carton of orange juice and goes to pour some into a glass.

You make a face.

"What?" She asks.

"That's not my juice," You say," That's Momma and Morsa's juice."

Technically, it's the family juice but you don't drink it, so you don't want to really claim it as the family juice.

"Oh! Silly me!"

She grabs the apple juice and you sigh.

"That's not my juice either," You say," I don't drink apple." That's a complete lie. You do drink apple juice but you don't really want any right now. "I drink the summer fruits."

Her throat bobs as she pours your drink. You reach for the glass but she keeps holding onto it.

"My drink," You whine.

"I'll hold it," She says nervously," Just in case you drop it. Broken glass can be dangerous, you know."

You give her a strange look. You know that. Of course, you know that. But you also know how to carry glass. You're always super safe and careful and drink from Momma and Morsa's glasses all the time.

You let her hold it though because she's got that look on her face that Momma has when you wander off. If letting Johanna hold your drink helps her to not cry then you'll let her hold it.

You sip at your drink before you return to Zećira.

"Hey, kiddo," She says as you pull Morsa's blanket tighter around your shoulders and sniff at the collar of Momma's jumper. "What do you think about dinner?"

It's a weird question but Zećira's weird sometimes so you answer.

"Dinner's cool. I prefer lunch though."

"No...No, I mean...What do you want for dinner?"

You hum for a moment, clicking a green brick on top of a brown brick. "Want Morsa's dinner." You glance at the door. "When Morsa and Momma comin' back?"

"Later," Zećira says, though she doesn't have a heart to tell you that 'later' really means 'after you're in bed'. "What do you want to eat?"

You think as you grab another brown brick. "Goldfish crackers," You answer," They're my favourite."

Zećira looks ready to start screaming or maybe crying.

"For dinner," Johanna says as she approaches," What do you want to eat for dinner?"

The word 'dinner' makes rapid connections in your head again before you give both of your babysitters a dopey smile. "Morsa makes dinner. She's the cooking boss! If Momma's good, sometimes, she gets to make the brocoli!"

"Well, they're not here right now," Zećira says," So what do you want to eat instead?"

At the reminder, you promptly burst into tears.

"Good going, idiot!" Johanna shrieks, flapping her arms about in horror as you sob and kick your little legs against the floor. "Look at her!"

"What do we do?"

You cry and shriek and pull Morsa's blanket over your head to hide. You feel better in your self-made tent, hidden away from Zećira and Johanna. It's better in here and you breathe in and out deeply like Momma does sometimes when she wants to calm down.

It takes a while but eventually you peak your head out, like a little tortoise.

"Hey," Johanna says softly," Sorry Zećira made you upset. Um...I heard that you like McDonald's? How about we just order in? We don't have to cook."

Your Momma and Morsa never let you have McDonald's. Never ever. You should really tell Johanna this.

"McDonald's! Yay!"

●～●～●～●～

There's no more accidents or crying for the rest of the night. You're content wrapped up tightly in your Morsa's blanket, wearing your Momma's jumper, sitting on the floor with your lego bricks and your McDonald's.

You munch on your fries, your fingers all greasy. Zećira is still sitting opposite you and Johanna is on the sofa, her legs bracketing your body.

You know that you're tired because your legos are no longer interesting and the room is feeling a little too-warm to be awake in. You yawn wide, rubbing at your eyes before blinking to get the sleep out of them.

"Are you tired?" Zećira asks and you shake your head.

You glance at the door. You know what adults are like. If you tell Zećira you're tired then she and Johanna will make you go to bed and you don't want to go to bed without seeing Momma and Morsa.

"I think you are."

You give her your best-Morsa glare. "No! I'm not!"

Johanna laughs. "Alright," She says," You're not tired but I'm going to need a cuddle buddy as we watch a movie. Do you think you're up for that?"

You think about it as Zećira clears away the food and puts your legos back in their special container. The lights in the room are pretty dim and it's still too-warm to be awake. Momma sometimes makes the room like this when she wants you to sleep but you don't really think Zećira and Johanna are smart enough to do that.

So, you nod and clamber up into Johanna's lap.

It starts off easy enough, just sitting on her. But then, she's turning you slightly in her arms, cradling you like Morsa does sometimes. You wiggle a little bit, trying to get comfortable because Johanna's grip isn't quite as sure as Morsa's.

Zećira returns from a phone call she took a few minutes ago. She flicks the light fully off until the only way you can see them is the flickering of the tv screen.

Your eyes droop a little bit as the movie plays. It's animated and in Swedish instead of English so usually you'd happily watch it but you let your eyes slide shut.

As long as you focus on listening, then you're sure that you'd be awake for when Momma and Morsa get home.

●～●～●～●～

Pernille opens the door slowly, trying not to make much noise.

Magda's holding her head, smiling wide as they step into the house.

The lights are off but Pernille isn't worried. She already kind of knew that she would find Johanna and Zećira asleep on the sofa. It was fine so long as they woke up if you had a nightmare or got out of bed. It wasn't like Pernille and Magda were up at all hours watching you as you slept.

Magda flicks the light off. "Alright you two-" Her voice is loud and she stops talking immediately when she spies what's going on.

Zećira has her neck leaned back uncomfortably on the back of the sofa, snoring softly with her mouth open. Johanna is asleep too though in a much more comfortable looking position.

You're cradled on her chest, wrapped up snugly in Magda's blanket with Pernille's jumper just peeking out from underneath.

"They were meant to put her to bed," Pernille says with a hint of amusement in her tone.

"We both knew they were never actually going to get her to bed," Magda replies," That's our job."

Pernille smiles and lifts you out of Johanna's arms without waking her. It wakes you though and your sleepy eyes crack open. You smile dopily at her.

"Hi, Momma," You slur," Hi, Morsa."

"Hi, princesse," Momma says, shifting you in her arms so you can rest your head on her shoulder.

"You look so snuggly," Morsa says, stroking your hair," Did you have a good time with Zećira and Johanna?"

You hum in affirmation. "We did lego," You say as Momma walks you up into your room," And we ate dinner and..." You yawn. "We watched a film."

"Oh, yeah?"

Momma tucks you into bed and presses a kiss to your nose.

"Was fun," You say, still heavy with sleep and both of your mothers know that you won't even remember this interaction in the morning.

"I'm glad," Morsa says. She gives you a kiss on the nose like Momma does.

"Night-night, Momma and Morsa," You say, grabbing at your duvet and turning on your side.

"Good night, princesse."

[trashytoastboi]

Hello! Can I request headcanons of Cracker, Katakuri, Usopp, Marco with S/O waking up finding a bug in their bed? This happened with me and my BF and we were freaking out haha

Hi hi! Of course~ Honestly bugs and beds... nope. Don't want any strange bedfellows thank you very much. Sorry for the long wait and hope you enjoy ~

Headcanons: Cracker, Katakuri, Usopp, Marco x S/O – Waking up and finding a bug in their bed

> Gender neutral

Charlotte Cracker

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

🍪 Cracker took a long time, detailing his day and laughing at the idiots at World Government, he walked right past the marines and they didn’t even know it’s him. To further his little taunt he stood RIGHT beside his own wanted poster and those idiots never even picked it up. Cracker did this often and boasted of his tales before bed, to his partner who always willingly listened. He enjoyed the attention, how attentively {Name} listened. “Well enough about me-” he cut his own story short upon seeing how sleepy {Name} was. 

🍪 He crawled into the obnoxiously large bed, right besides {Name}, doing his usual routine. Surprisingly when he wasn’t boasting about his own achievements, or speaking enthusiastically about his family he could be quite affectionate towards his partner. Maybe it was his pride as a lover, or something of the sort but he had a strange softness to his biscuit coated heart when it came to {Name}. He pulled them closer, pressing a soft kiss to their shoulder. He felt a tickling on his thigh, he chuckled thinking it was {Name’s} hand. Until he realized that unlike him, {Name} wasn’t exactly tall enough, with long enough limbs to reach his thigh the way they were laying. So what was tickling his thigh? 

🍪 Cracker decided to ignore it. Surely it was nothing. The prickly, tickling sensation kept moving. Squirming, he could not ignore it. It stopped for a moment and {Name} shrieked at the sudden feeling and practically launched themselves from the bed, entrusting Cracker to find the culprit. He scoffed at seeing their terror, when he lifted the blanket. A monstrosity, some hundred legged demon wriggled and wreathed all over the bed. It set its sights for Cracker and aggressively squiggles towards him, Cracker would tell everyone it was his partner who shrieked high enough to crack glass, but it was him. He discovered he'd rather face an admiral instead of a centipede. 

🍪Cracker unleashed the full force of his devil fruit, making sure there was no possible way for this foul creature to survive. Sure {Name} was scared and grossed out but the extent Cracker went to seemed like overkill. Even after all of that, practically decimating his entire room…He noticed it again. Nonchalantly marching along as if nothing ever happened, the centipede was alive and well, its presence tormented Cracker. Eventually {Name} worked up the courage to approach it, trap it in a container and toss it out the window while it sailed on the wind until probably landing safely somewhere to strike fear to everyone else. 

🍪 Cracker was exhausted. He refused to go to sleep in his room, not until enough time has passed and he was double- no triple sure that it was clean and free of insects..He felt itchy and thought about how long the centipede tickled against him. One thing he can say for certain is he now knows that he has a fear of centipedes. Well any creature with more than four legs already raises his danger bells, this was just the epitome of it. What’s worse, it was a giant centipede! It’s unnatural how it could even get that big. 

Charlotte Katakuri

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

🍩 Katakuri is very soft, and finds he really enjoys the nights when he can sleep next to his partner. Their presence is so warm and comforting, evoking the same kind of fluffy and comforting feelings as his tea time. Katakuri rarely expressed this but you could easily tell, he acted noticeably softer and more gentle during these times when his heart felt at ease. With one of the most comfortable beds to ever be created and his partner, what more could he need for a restful night. He had prepared a small plate of snacks, something light to go with a late night beverage, he relaxed with {Name} sharing snacks and talking about the day. 

🍩 After that Katakuri so naturally snuggled against {Name} well seeing that he is as tall as he is, {Name} was designated the role of little spoon every time. Once they tried to be the big spoon but they made Katakuri burst out in laughter. Everything seemed peaceful, although it was warm so Katakuri opened a window in the hopes of a pleasant breeze to come drifting through. Although the breeze was not the only thing that came drifting into the room. 

🍩 Maybe the slightest hum of wings was not enough to alert them. Not even when it got louder, and closer. Until Katakuri felt something tap against his cheek. He thought nothing of it, until it moved. He casually brushed it off and it fell to the bed and made its way towards {Name}, the slightest tickle of an antenna gave them an itch. Although they didn’t expect to feel something when they went to scratch what was tickling them. They went to have a look, maybe they left something on the bed earlier? They spotted some odd creature. A scorpion? The silhouette seemed to match, but they had never heard of a scorpion that had an antenna? It started flying and {Name} shrieked to high heaven - Not a scorpion. 

🍩 Katakuri could see {Name} panicking, being chased by some very tiny thing that had them running for their life. So nonchalantly asked them what the problem was. In their panic Katakuri heard {Name} complaining about ‘it’ crawling into their ears and tickling their brains. The idea actually sounded quite disgusting even by his standards.  He easily captured it in a mochi cage and threw it outside to ease his partner’s concerns. Katakuri didn’t even see it for that long but the sheer terror that it evoked in his partner was strange. {Name} described in great detail about earwigs and all the horrific old wives tales that exist about them. 

🍩 After hearing the tale about how they’ll crawl into your ears and lay eggs Katakuri started sleeping with earbuds in to prevent such. He brushed it off saying that he’s not affected but {Name} knew otherwise, plus Katakuri no longer opens the windows. So there’s something to suggest that maybe he’s not as unaffected as he makes himself out to be. 

Usopp

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

🏹 Ussop said goodnight to all of his lovely little plants, making sure everything was ready for tomorrow and he kept telling {Name} that he’d be there in a few minutes. In the meantime, {Name} prepped the bed making sure it was all comfortable and ready to turn in for the night. They knew Usopp could get stuck with his plants for hours, talking to them, tending to them and deciding they’d turn in before him. They got comfy and were in a half asleep state. 

🏹 They’d just managed to lightly fall asleep, they felt the weight shift and the bed dip when Ussop climbed inside. He was talking to himself about the to-do list for tomorrow to remind himself of everything he wanted to attend to. He climbed under the blanket humming to {Name} with some random lullaby. {Name} shifted closer out of habit and all was well until something very evidently came crawling on the bed. {Name} could faintly make out the silhouette of the thing coming closer, closer, - it wasn’t big enough to have significant weight but they could see the blanket move underneath it so clearly it was big enough to do that. They silently watched as it got closer before being unable to take it anymore. 

🏹 {Name} didn’t know what it was but they flailed, and flung themselves all over the bed to get away from it. Usopp obviously woke up from all the panicking wondering what had his partner so riled up and perturbed. When Usopp lifted the blanket to catch the culprit it revealed a spider. Eight legs, walking along like nothing could go wrong. Usopp chuckled and scooped the spider onto his hand “Don’t worry this little guy won't hurt you.” He reassures {Name} while admiring how pretty the little fellow looked. {Name} was terrified, reassured and surprised to see Usopp so unphased while he let the spider run around his hand and arm. 

🏹 Usopp moved the spider to a container and he took it outside, while {Name} just remained inside, confused and too scared to look in the bed. Maybe they should just sleep elsewhere; they wracked their brain until they heard Usopp return. He fixed the bed and invited them to lay beside him. {Name} asked if there were any more bugs, evidently afraid to return. Usopp reassured them that it was just that little guy. {Name} told Usopp just how surprised they were to see him handling that with no issue ever, he’s never found bugs scary and rather on the cute side. 

🏹 {Name} was too scared on their side of the bed and scooted closer and closer until they were practically sleeping on top of Usopp. Not that he minded all that much, he thought them being afraid of a little spider was adorable. They protested that they’re cute until they bite, Usopp couldn't really argue with that but explained he’s never been bitten. 

Marco

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

🍍 Marco quite enjoyed his midday naps, granted if everything was quiet enough to permiss that. He even roped {Name} into joining him and it almost became routine when they would disappear for an hour or two to just rest and recharge before getting back to the grind. He didn’t even bother opening the bed and threw a soft blanket on top instead, without checking it. Had he checked things might have been different for the two of them. He plopped down and awaited {Name} wondering why they were so late. 

🍍 {Name} arrived to find a very half asleep Marco who greeted them with a sleepy tune and an interrupting yawn. They walked over and plopped over, smiling as they saw Marco’s resting face. The moment felt so serene and peaceful, warm and comfortable. {Name} wished it would last forever until they felt some hard, cold thing MOVING next to them. A slight hissing sound arose and they froze, a snake is easy no big deal. But this didn’t feel like a snake. It was smaller, still sizable and more rigid. 

🍍 “Marco-” {Name} called softly, trying not to move, “Marco!” They called a little louder, before reaching up and shaking him. Marco woke up, flustered “What’s wrong? Enemies? Marines?” he searched around, when {Name} shuffled closer to him “There’s something behind me…Take it away please” Marco was confused but noticed the genuine fear that lingered in their expression. He came closer and reached behind them, to feel something. For a moment relief washed over him, it was probably a random item. He thought that until it moved in his hand and Marco threw whatever he was holding across the room with a muffled shriek. 

🍍 Marco and {Name} skedaddled to the polar opposite side of the room and looked for any sign of movement and there it was. Red, brown and black amalgamated onto a palm sized insect. An intimidating and shrill hiss escaped the creature, Marco did the only rational thing. He took {Name} and left the room before burning it, the flames would leave nothing behind. After watching everything turning into ash, Marco seemed relieved. Until he saw something JUMPING at him through the ashes.

🍍 They shut the door and Marco called for someone who was better at dealing with such things than he was. To his surprise it was easy to find someone…Enthusiastic about bugs amongst the eccentric crew. They were excited while ‘admiring’ the fine specimen which they identified as a parktown prawn. Marco didn’t care what kind of creature it was but more to the fact that his whole room had been overturned by its existence. 

[milksuu]

Don't Worry. I'll Support You. | PT. 01

❥ prompt: Your HEARTSTEEL boyfriend has to undergo minor surgery, and they chose you to be their caretaker for the day. Let's see how they are before and after anesthesia. ❥ content/warnings: fluffy fluff, drugged behavior (all medically safe), mention of needles, mild profanity, minor angst ❥ characters/pairings: v!Heartsteel! (aphelios, ezreal, kayn) x girlfriend!reader

an: i don't know why this was tumbling around in my head. wow, this post got longer and longer the more i wrote. i swear I'll write for the other babes too.

APHELIOS

Unfortunately, this wouldn't be the first time Aphelios had to undergo surgery. Happened when they had to remove the nodule from his vocal cords. And he doesn't remember a single thing from that day. Alune took care of him at the time, but she never mentioned anything beyond how he slept most of the day (probably to spare him from embarrassment).

He appreciated you taking a day off work to take care of him and be his interpreter. He was fine with all his consents and paperwork. But when it came to more detailed questions concerning his medical history, he would have you translate his sign language to the medical staff. Thanks to you, the process went smoothly.

IV's were never fun to have. Especially when it had to be in the hand. Aphelios couldn't lie and say he wasn't nervous about it, despite his aloofness. But all he had to do was shift his eyes away for a moment, and look at your cute, bubbly face. He could tell you were rambling on trying to distract him, and he guessed it worked. By the time he looked down again, the IV was in. He denied the golden star sticker usually meant for the pediatric patients, but you took it for him as a momento.

When it was time for him to go into the OR, the medical team gave you two a moment. You slipped a hand into his and gave him two love squeezes. He smiled softly and gave three love squeezes back. A quick peck to his lips and you left to sit in the waiting room.

When he was brought to recovery and awake, you were taken to his bedside. When you stepped through the curtain, you saw him resting as if he were asleep at home. Slowly, he opened his eyes, glazed over with mild recognition. Although he felt lethargic, he signed sloppily with his hands.

Is this heaven?

You bit your bottom lip to keep from smiling too much. You shook your head and reminded him where he was.

Oh. Really? Because you look like an angel to me. And if they want you back up there. Forget it. I'm keeping you.

You covered your mouth to keep from giggling too loud. You weren't sure if he was being serious or actually trying to flirt with you. It wasn't common at all for him to be so corny, but you blamed the anesthesia for that. When the nurse came to the bedside, she went over discharge instructions while you held his hand. He kept giving you light squeezes and rubbing his thumb gently against your fingers. Just to make sure you wouldn't fly away. Of course, anytime you had to let go and sign a paper, he sighed heavily (almost a whine if he wasn't careful), until your hand floated right back for him to take. Then he was sighing with relief again.

While at home, it was just the same. Aphelios didn't want you to leave his side for even a moment. If he had his way, you'd be sleeping next to him, still holding onto his hand. You had to remind him many times that you had to take care of him, so no cuddles or naps just yet. You also had to remind him he needed to eat and take fluids after fasting for so long. If there was thing you knew, he was a picky eater. Aphelios seriously thought ketchup packets counted as a full meal and satisfied his daily fiber intake. Luckily, you were able to spoon feed him some soup with a couple of crackers.

After you had him take his first dose of medication, you could finally indulge him. You settled next to him in bed, and he took no time to wrap himself around you, nuzzling your chest. A small, sleepy smile formed against his lips. Maybe you weren't a real angel. But you couldn't convince him you weren't his heaven on Earth.

EZREAL

Oh, boy. This was the first time Ezreal had to have any kind of surgery. Even though it was supposedly minor, that didn't stop the nerves itching underneath his skin. Is it normal to be this nervous? He wasn't sure, but he tried his best to hide his chattering teeth behind a forced smile. He really didn't want you worrying about him more than you had too. You were already doing him a big favor by taking care of him. He just hoped he wouldn't be a wreck before and after.

Apparently, signing consent forms and answering medical questions became a challenge. His hand trembled so much, his usual confident signature looked like a preschooler forged it. And when it came to answering medical questions, he found himself stuttering, feeling like someone stuck cotton balls inside his mouth.

When it was time for the IV, his whole body was ready to collapse in on itself. Was it always so hot in here? Sweat dampened the top of his skin. W-What's the big deal anyway? Not like he was afraid of some tiny, sharp...needle....OK, the room was spinning now. Great—awesome. Man, he felt so lame.

Seeing the color drain from his complexion, his head drop back, and his eyelids fluttering close, you politely asked the nurse to give him a moment with you. She laid him down in the stretcher and brought you a wet cloth. Wiping at his damp face and neck, you rested a comforting hand against his heaving chest. "It's okay to be afraid, Ez. It's not easy to have surgery. You're brave for even being here." He shook his head weakly, clenching his eyes tight. "B-brave. Yeah right, babe. I mean, look at me. I'm practically comatose and the nurse barely even wrapped the tourniquet around my arm."

"Brave doesn't mean not being afraid of anything. It's doing something even knowing it's scary." Another wipe of his cheek and you planted a reassuring kiss. "There's no one braver in my eyes right now." Ezreal swallowed the ball of anxiety nested in his throat. A couple of more inhales and he gathered his remaining courage for the next step that had to be done.

You held his hand the entire time the nurse worked to get his IV started. You told him to close his eyes and take big breaths, and it would be over before he even knew it. He did as instructed, and just like you said, it was done. He admitted to you that it felt a bit itchy, but that he could deal with. Oh, but was it so worth it when the nurse offered him that golden star sticker. He slapped it on the chest of his gown like a badge of honor.

When the medical team arrived to take him in the stretcher, he gave you that million dollar smile and peace sign. Granted, you whispered to the anesthesiologist to give him some relaxing medication before he went in. The anesthesia provider was way ahead of you. When he started giggling, waving, and blowing kisses like he was out the sunroof of a limo driving down the boulevard—oh yeah. You knew he was feeling it.

When it was all over and they called you back to recovery, the nurse informed you he couldn't stop talking the moment he opened his eyes. And all that he was talking about was you. "Babe! Babe! I did it—I can't even believe it's over. I don't even remember them putting me to sleep. Crazy, right? Like, did I count down from ten? Did I make it to zero? I bet I made it to zero." He practically wiggled himself over the safety rails on the stretcher. You sweetly instructed him to keep still so that the nurses could get a decent blood pressure on him. "Okay. Okay. I'll be good. Promise." He forced himself to lay back, but that didn't last long. While the nurse was going over instructions, he was tugging on your shirt sleeve, calling your name, interrupting every moment wanting your attention. Apparently, he had a lot to say to you in the span of thirty-minutes you were separated.

When you arrived back home, by some miracle you were able to have him settled on the couch once you put on his favorite K-Drama. While sitting next to him (and making sure he didn't get up) he rested his cheek against the top of your head. "Thanks for everything, babe. Honestly, you make me feel like the bravest guy. Like Indiana Jones....or Captain Kirk...maybe even that...one actor from National Treasure...." before you could say anything back, you felt his body relax further into you. His light breaths signaling he dozed off seamlessly. With a warm smile, you pulled the blanket over the two of you, and snuggled closer before you joined him for a nap.

KAYN

GOD DAMN IT'S EARLY! Kayn wanted to shout when you woke him up for his 6AM arrival time. Instead, he grumbled, kicked on his crocks, and went in his pajamas. He was too tired to really argue and complain. He just wanted to get this done and over with so he could move on with his life.

Kayn didn't diddle-daddle with his forms and medical questions. He wanted to put on his gown, toss himself into the stretcher, and possibly get a few more winks before his surgical time. You sighed—this was going to be the longest hour before surgery.

Although still in a foul mood, Kayn eased a bit when you worked up a distracting conversation with him. And when the nurse came in to do his IV, Kayn didn't bother blinking. He probably stuck himself countless of times with other—probably sharper—and deadlier objects. Actually, he took it one step further. When the IV was inserted, just to mess with you (and the nurse), he made a loud, and seductive moan. You pinched his arm for startling the nurse. Poor thing didn't even know how to react to that nonsense. "Ow. Ow. Nurse—nurse, she's hurting me." He said, cowering away from you. "You deserve that for almost giving them a heart attack. What if they missed and had to stick you twice?" Kayn smirked, rubbing at his nipple line. "More of a good time for me, then." You rolled your eyes, begging for him to behave for the next half-hour.

When the surgeon came to the bedside, he discussed the procedure at length and a few expectations afterwards. When he finished, he asked if either of you had any questions. Kayn raised his hand like the serious kid in math class. "Yeah. Question, Dr. Shen. When can I have sex again?" You almost spat out the complimentary coffee the front staff so kindly gave you. You couldn't believe he had just asked that question so casually at...let's see.... 06:50 in the morning!

You apologized on his behalf, but Dr. Shen merely dismissed it. "That's quite alright. It's a fair question. And one I receive plenty of times from my male patients. Even ones well into their eighties, and surprisingly, nineties." Kayn nodded with a grin and you rubbed your warming forehead. Of course. What else would they bother to ask? The surgeon went on to say; "As far as any kind of exertional activities, that will all be discussed and cleared at your follow-up appointment in two weeks."

TWO WEEKS!? Kayn almost fainted right then in there. He looked at you with such concern, as if someone told him a Pentakill concert sold out before he could even buy a ticket. He reached over and grabbed your hand, holding tight. "Listen, kitten. I don't think I want this surgery anymore. Can we go home now?" You shook your head disapprovingly. After hearing such news, and you not bailing him out, Kayn sulked as if he was getting surgery to forever castrate him.

When it was time to take him, he begrudgingly let you kiss his cheek. Otherwise, he didn't reciprocate your affection. He tossed his chin away and said. "Whatever. Let's just get this crap over with." Once again, he had you shaking your head, and you apologizing to everyone in the room.

When the nurse came to bring you back into recovery, you noticed he was sleeping on his side, back turned to you. You wondered if he was still upset by the whole ordeal. When you reached out to touch his shoulder, he tensed, but slowly turned over. "Kayn. Are you feeling alright? If you're in pain, I'll tell the nurse—" Before you could finish, Kayn reached forward and grabbed you, pulling you into the tightest hug. You felt him bury his face into your neck and shoulder, hands desperately clinging to you.

"Oh, thank you, thank you." You heard him choke up. You brought a hand to gently comb through his hair, asking him what was wrong. He shook his head. "I...I don't know. I thought— just before everything went black—what if I never saw you again. And the way I acted before they took me..." he squeezed tighter, burying his sulking face deeper. "I'm sorry. I love you, okay? Just, trust me on that. Please."

"It's okay. I love you too," you hummed and stroked his back, continuing to assure him. "You don't have to worry anymore. It's all over. You're still here. The doctor said you did so good, and there were no complications." Pausing, you planted a kiss to the top of his head. "How about we get you dressed so we can go home, hm?" He nodded against your shoulder, and you helped the nurse dress him for discharge.

When you brought him home, Kayn wanted to do nothing but turn off the lights, close the blinds, and lay next to you in quiet darkness. Breathe you in, feel your warmth, and listen to the softness of your pulse against his ear. Focus on the fact that he was alive and you were alive with him—nothing else.

[fandoms--fluff]

Hello gorgeous I love your work and I want to ask you is you cold do one more of Hayley Marshal and Mikaelson little sister were Hayley take on a walk in the stroller yn and Baby Hope but some people trait to attract them but yn kill them

Puddles

Flufftober, October 4th

Baby Mikaelson heretic sister reader x Hayley Marshall (& Hope Mikaelson)

Warnings: mentions of death?

A/n: Thank you, Love. I hope you like it!

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

"Make sure you stay close, okay, Sweetie?" Hayley zips up your yellow jacket. "One han' on s'roller" You nod your head, looking up at the brunette hybrid.

"Yes, exactly. Good job." Hayley places a kiss on your forehead and double checks that Hope is all strapped in. Once she's certain the one year old is all secure, she goes back to the handle bars and starts walking.

You have one hand grasped onto one of the side bars of the stroller as you walk.

Hayley takes you guys down one of the paths in the local park. You jump in all the puddles you walk by, giggling as your yellow rain boots gets water splashed everywhere. But you make sure not to get any puddle water on Hayley or Hope.

The hybrid watches with a smile as you have fun. She knew you were getting restless from being kept in the abattoir for so long. So she planned this small outing for the three of you without any of the family drama for the afternoon. Nothing to worry about. And you finally get to let out some of your energy.

She wasn't sure how much more of your jumping on furniture and running around the place Elijah and Klaus could take before they snapped.

Her head snapped up from where she was looking down at a snoozing Hope. She feels someone trailing you guys. "Can you come here, Hun?" Hayley asks as if nothings wrong.

"Okay" You jump over to her and she places you on the stroller step under the stroller. "You want a snack?" She asks. "Mhm" You nod up at her, not noticing anything off.

Hayley grabs one of the baggies of goldfish out of the diaper bag and hands it to you. "Fanks" You say and open the baggie. "Your welcome" Hayley smiles as she starts to increase her walking pace.

She tries to make her way back to the abattoir to get one of your brothers or Marcel. She needs to keep you and Hope safe.

Before she knows it, you guys are surrounded by eight vampires.

You look up from your goldfish crackers when you realize you're no longer moving.

"Don't move, Hun. Please" Hayley pleads to you. You worriedly nod in compliance. Your nerves start to flare up with nervousness. You're scared. You don't know what's happening and you can tell Hayley is nervous as well.

You look back to Hope to make sure she was okay and when it's clear she's still asleep, you turn back over to face Hayley. Except she wasn't there. You turned to the side where she's fighting against two of the vampires.

One second she was taking them over before she got pinned down by a third one. And then you saw one of them advncing on Hopey. That, you couldn't let happen.

You jump up from the stroller and yell, "STOP!" A big wave of energy emits through the air and as soon as it crosses to the eight vampires, they drop dead to the ground. Veins are rising up their bodies, declaring they're dead.

Hayley Vamps up from the ground and over to you and Hope, who has been sleeping through everything. "Oh my god, are you okay, Sweetie?" She lifts you into her arms. She pulls you tight into a hug and you nuzzle your head into her chest, nodding.

"Scary" You mumble into her jacket. "Yeah, it was. I'm sorry Y/n/n." She pulled away from you a small bit and looks into your widened doe eyes. "Did you mean to do that?" She asks, referring to the many dead vampires.

"Mmm, no' exa'ly. Just happen" You shrug. "Has to keep Hopey safe" You tell her and turn to the sleeping Hope.

"Yes, and I'm grateful for that, but you have to remember not to put yourself in dangerous situations like that in the future, alright? You have to promise me" She runs her hand through your hair.

"I p'omise" You lay your head back onto her chest.

Hayley carries you with one arm while pushing the stroller with her other hand. She takes you guys back to the abattoir the quickest way possible.

"I think that was enough excitements for today" Hayley sighs as she lays Hope in her crib. You kick off your yellow boots and matching yellow rain jacket before climbing up on the chair next to the crib.

"Sleepy Hope. Nigh' nigh'" You wave to the one year old. "Yeah, good night, Hope" Hayley nods with a smile before picking you up from the chair.

"Let's go bake some cookies, huh?" She asks you after closing Hope's nursery door. "Yeah!" You exclaim, the days events behind you guys.

[postmodernbeliever]

sick and twisted- fox mulder x female reader (smutsmutsmutsmut)

in a sudden bout of sickness, you are staying with fox, who is yearning to take care of you (...in more ways than one.)

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

hope you enjoy this incredibly horny thing... wrote this as i worked through raging period hormones <333 (sometimes i still get a little nervous to post these but yknow what. if im thinking it someone else is too probably. so yolo)

my ao3 | word count: 2,906

content tags: soft dom fox mulder, fox mulder the top of every girl's dreams, domestic fluff, fluff and smut, sickfic, sick reader, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering & sex, plus size reader if you squint, past fox was a little plus size if you ALSO SQUINT!!!!, idiots in love, pet names, smut, pain relief, talking you through it bc he's a nice boy, cross-posted on ao3

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡

it was twisted, the way fox was turned on by you being sick. it checked every fantasy in his head off the list and you didn't even know.

by the time you got off work last night, you felt the brain fog rolling in, and you came straight to fox’s place instead of your own- and he was more than happy to oblige you. he wanted to set you up in his bed, but you refused, so he made you a little home on his couch, fixed with his good pillows and the blanket you designated as your own months ago. the man had been itching to come home all day. his brain was so out of the loop, in fact, that he handed dana a case report only half completed, with sentences stopping midway through. his partner had to force him out of the office just so he didn’t screw anything else up, but he couldn’t care less, because he was on his way home to his girl. he even went to the store to get you ginger ale and animal crackers, because he knows that’s your favorite remedy. and god, if you weren't everything he’d been dreaming of since he left you last. 

you were splayed out on his couch beneath a blanket, coughing up a storm. your nose was red and irritated from blowing it into so many tissues, lips swollen from all the chapstick and chewing; a glassy, sleepy look glazed over your eyes, and your skin paled everywhere but your cheeks, which were flushed in a pretty little smear across your face. you were in his old academy t-shirt, which left room to breathe- he was a bit bigger back then, lucky for you- and a little pair of boxers that were hiked up your thighs from sitting in them all day. you were the vision he couldn’t have conjured even if he tried. he wished that they could make a calendar of just you, looking like this, for every month until he died. but above all, your voice was the part that truly drove him up the wall. you didn’t think of the raspiness as much more than grating, but to him? gruff, weak, gentle, needy, undeniably brutally irrefutably hot- he had a thesaurus written just to put it to words. every word that fell from your lethargic lips was like music to his ears; he could listen to your stuffy breathing forever.

fox had been taking care of you, despite your protests to leave you be. you didn't want to get him sick, but he didn't care. he insisted on keeping you company and doing mindless work at his living room desk until you felt like getting back into the world. that was another thing. seeing you helpless and dependent on him, needing him to feel better… he loved that. he loved spoiling you, feeding you, treating you like a princess. that's what you were to him. there was so much in his life that was out of his control, that he couldn’t protect, but you were the one constant thing he could keep safe. the one thing he could selfishly keep. there was no chance he was going to give that up so easily, not when you were catering to his urges so wonderfully.

it was getting late, but you'd slept all day, so the exhaustion behind your eyes was keeping you awake. overtired and restless, your head was throbbing, and you couldn't get comfortable. the man heard rustling from the couch and turned in his desk chair, a serene smile on his face. he noticed you shifting awkwardly and came to the rescue.

"what is it, baby?"

you ceased trying to rearrange the contents of the couch and let yourself flop against the pillows, huffing in aggravation. "ugh, nothing. just can't get comfy."

"let me help you," fox urged. he rose from his chair and stalked over, kneeling dutifully at the couch's edge to help you adjust the pillows behind your head and beneath your legs. "better?"

"mhm. thank you."

"of course. how’re you feeling?"

"not good," you pouted, voice thick with strain, "my head is killing me, and my stomach is aching. and my nose and throat, too… i took some medicine not too long ago, but it’s taking forever to kick in… ugh. you know i hate being sick."

that childish pout had his stomach churning. he knew this wasn't about him, and you needed rest, but he also couldn't ignore how enticing you looked, all innocent and sleepy on his couch. how you trailed off between thoughts, working through the sick haze in your head. he leaned over a bit to rest his hands on your lower abdomen, pressing the heels of his palms against your belly softly. you hummed at the touch, and he had to force his eyes not to roll back.

"what can i do to make you feel better?"

"can..." you trailed off. "maybe you could cuddle me?"

"i'd love to."

the man climbed onto the couch without a thought, allowing his body to mold to how yours curved. you felt his strong chest rising and falling against your back, the constancy soothing as he draped his arm over your side, letting his rough hands drift slowly back down to your tummy. fox pressed a few lazy kisses behind your ears, causing the hair on your arms to stand up stiff. his lips were always warm, but with your skin burning up as it was, they felt frigid.

"too cold?"

"mm-mm," you hummed. maybe they were, but you weren’t going to jeopardize him stopping. 

fox was starting to disregard his better judgment as he tucked himself into you, feeling the feverish heat of your back. he was more attuned to the motions you made than his thoughts. the way your hands, so soft, just a touch smaller than his own, laid safely atop his wrists; how when he rubbed slow circles against your aching stomach, you made a little noise that was something heavenly, both hum and sigh; how your left foot ran up and down your right leg, feeling the fuzzy fabric of the blanket wedged between. he was so lost in how good it felt to be wanted that it was crossing over into obsession. he wanted every square inch of you to need his attention. he wanted to touch every spot that felt sick and nurse you back to life- to have it engrained in your head that only he could make it feel better, and no one else. 

so engrossed in his urges, fox kissed a little more, and what started as innocent turned urgent. he sucked softly behind your ear, nipping relentlessly on that sensitive spot you had. you began to pant, feeling the fever chills leave and a different kind of warmth roll over you. you pushed your hips into his hands, trying not to squirm and failing miserably. 

"oh, god," you covered your face with your hands. “fox…”

fox’s low laugh rumbled against your shoulder blades. the man relished in your inability to resist. his fingers began to travel down to your boxers, and he tucked his hand right below the waistband. he put pressure right against your heat and you buried your face as best as possible into the couch cushion, letting out a helpless whine.

"feels good, right, baby?"

"a-ah," you hiccuped.

"m'just gonna touch it, that's all,”

"but-"

"i can make you feel so much better," he kissed your ear, "make all those aches go away so fast, baby. can i?”

"please," you whispered.

he reached down and dragged his fingers along the fabric separating him from what he wanted, feeling the wetness beneath. his touch was feather-light, and as he gently wriggled his fingers beneath the cotton, you squeezed your eyes shut and scratched softly at the knuckles of his hand still on your waist. you were struggling to do anything other than lie there, but he didn’t need a thing from you anyway. eagerly, you felt his steady fingers brush against your entrance, and his lips parted hungrily at how slick you were.

"god, you're so easy, aren’t you?"

fox dipped two fingers inside you, testing the waters. when your hips rocked back into his, he couldn’t bite back the greedy smile that overtook his face. impatient, he pushed them deeper, feeling the familiar pressure of you squeezing around his hand. you licked your chapped lips, feeling a knot tying itself in your tummy where he worked his fingers inside you. he’d been away a lot recently, so much so that this was a reminder of just how long his fingers truly were. 

"mm, now how’s that, sweetheart?"

"it’s… good," you drawled.

"you like it when i touch you like this, don't you? y’like how my fingers feel?"

you turned your head to look down at where his wrist disappeared beneath your boxers, and you keeled back against the pillow, meeting his broad shoulder. you shuddered in pleasure, and he craned his neck over to lock you in a kiss, feeling possessive like never before. he tasted the minty vicks above your lip and moaned right into your mouth.

"my poor, sick girl… just need me, don't you, baby? oh, you just want me to make it feel better, i know."

you practically melted into the couch as he buried his fingers between your hips. skillfully, he maneuvered you onto your back and crawled up and over so you could lay flat; he anchored his arm right over your head so he could stare down and watch the bliss reach your rosy face, all the while never taking his hand away. once you started breathing heavily and clenching around his fingers, he pulled them out, dragging his slick fingertips across your stomach, leaving shiny streaks behind. when you groaned at the loss, he clicked his tongue.

"no whining, angel. i'm not done. i'm gonna take good care of you."

you watched through spinning vision as he pushed down the couch, crawling low until he could lean over your hips. then, with his big palms stationed between your thighs, he spread you wide, ogling your plush pink folds.

"you're so pretty, baby. my pretty girl."

he pressed a few kisses on the mound just above where you ached, sending shocks up to the tips of your hair. then, he dipped his tongue right inside. he was too needy to start with kitten licks, so instead he swirled around, curling his tongue like a hook, big button nose rubbing against your clit as he breathed you like air. you were officially somewhere new, somewhere out of your own mind; his tongue was so long it could've been one of his god-given fingers, so warm inside you, so deep you couldn't see straight. 

"mmm- god- i love you.”

your toes curled as he moaned all kinds of sweet nothings into you, feeling the soundwaves rolling against your walls. just when his tongue had you going, he moved up to your clit and began sucking so hard you started seeing stars. you clamped your thighs around his head and felt his strong, rough hands grip the chub on them hard, fingertips digging enough to leave moon-shaped bruises. you tugged on his hair, unable to do anything but feel him against you and try not to slip away. but there was no stopping the way you floated in limbo, surrounded by the way he made you feel.

"fuck, baby, look at you," he growled between your hips. "c’mon. let me hear that scratchy little voice of yours."

"oh my god," you moaned, "oh, y-you... i... fox,"

"fuck, that's it. is it good, love, am i good?"

"you're so good! so…s-so good…fuck!" you fought not to trail off, but thinking was hard enough as it is.

“that’s my job, sweetheart.”

he kept himself there, getting off on the way you bucked your hips against his jaw. it didn’t take much longer for the burning in your stomach to grow unbearable, and through trembling little spasms confined by his stronghold on your waist, you unraveled right on his tongue. he came up for air with milky lips after working it out of you for a minute, pressing wet kisses all up your stomach and chest. you felt so dirty as you smiled down at the sheen trail of cum prints in the shape of his pretty lips.

“good girl. did that help?"

"mhm," you heaved, head spinning. “need…”

"what? what is it?"

"i- oh..."

"use your words, princess. words."

"c-can you- you..."

he knew what you wanted. he saw it in the pathetic way you glanced from your hips to his, too worked up to get it out. he chuckled in a way that sent chills up your legs and said, "awh, baby. you want me to fuck you now?"

you bit your lip and bucked your hips in the air. he lodged his leg between your thigh with a smirk and you pressed yourself against it, grinding on the worn fabric of his sweatpants. he felt a wet patch soaking through to his skin, and he twitched in anticipation. you batted your eyelashes and let out a raspy little noise, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt while you moved. and when a sniffle interrupted your humming, it drove him right over the edge.

"fuck. you’re so cute, you little tease.”

he shimmied his sweatpants down in an instant and wasted no time, groaning gutterally as he pushed in and bottomed out. you were hot around him, pulsing like a steady heartbeat.

"fuck, baby. never gets old,” he swooned, pressing a gentle kiss to your chin.  

he began to thrust in and out, hips rolling religiously into the curve of your legs. you clung to his shoulders and tugged him down so he was stuck against your neck, breath hot. he began to fuck you faster, pressing starving kisses to your collarbone, and you arched your back, gasping for a solid breath.

"oh my god!"

"god, you’re so tight," he growled, “been saving it all up for me, huh? missed me bad, i can tell,”

"mm… fox!”

"you like it when i fuck you like this? right on the couch, where anybody could see in that window? say it, baby,”

"i love it," you croaked, gathering the little tufts of overgrown hair at the nape of fox’s neck and tugging them in a last-ditch effort to ground yourself. he tipped his head back into your touch and whined, and you gave a dizzy, darling smile.

"god, i love you. i love you, i love you, i fucking love you," he praised, timing every confession with a thrust of his hips.

all you could manage was a distracted, "m-me... too... ah!"

your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he uprighted himself and yanked you by the love handles, dragging you down the couch like a doll. he clawed at your hips, leaving red marks he’d have to soothe later. fox snapped harder and harder, losing control but not caring at all; you let him take you in his hands, surrendering until you couldn't take anymore, and suddenly the knot in your stomach burst. you shivered and writhed all around, whispering his name like a strangled prayer as your hands searched for something to squeeze. he leaned down so you could grab his biceps, and you scratched at them like a cat, a string of lewd things falling from your tired mouth. he came undone as you clenched around him, and his warmth in your tummy was so thick you felt like you could feel it in your throat. 

"so good, baby, jesus christ," fox wheezed. "you sound so pretty when you’re sick. can’t help myself."

you were nearly unresponsive. your head had never spun the way it did now, and your ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton, along with your throat. you couldn't form any words, all you could do was claw at his arms and tremble, face stuck in a permanent state of bliss. 

"feeling any better?" fox pressed little kisses to your chin and neck and eyes, and he traced shapes on your stomach to wake you up. "come on, princess, open your eyes. come back to me.” when you smiled and sighed, letting out an embarrassed giggle, he cooed, "there she is, my pretty girl."

"mhm."

"still feel bad?"

you shook your head sweetly, eyes drooping. "nuh-uh."

his heart swelled and he just wanted to eat you alive, so he did the next best thing. he leaned down and kissed your swollen lips with a softness he abandoned just minutes ago, swiping his tongue against your lips and all over your face. he kissed you with all the maneuvers of love he could muster, and you hummed against his mouth, pulling on his hair to hear those pretty little sounds again.

"you’ve got me so whipped, sweetheart," he purred between kisses, "just wanna take care of you."

"you're so good at it," you blushed.

"i do what i can." 

he kissed and kissed and kissed you into the couch, and all that kissing got heated, and one thing led to another because the two of you simply couldn’t help yourselves. and the next day, he woke up as sick as you. who saw that coming?

[last-starry-sky]

kinktober day 18 - can't sleep // sex toys

ghost x soap x f!reader (pt. 2 - pt. 1 is HERE)

[MDNI - NSFW - MIND THE WARNINGS: 1.7k💀, established ghoap, DUBCON: touching, forced masturbation, sex toys, threesome-ish situation (not sure how to categorize this, ymmv), a bit of over-stimulation, implied forced poly relationship.]

tag list (lmk if you'd like to be added!): @slut-lmao, @mishaglass

The second you walked in the door the next day, you knew something was afoot. You opened the door to Johnny and Simon staring at each other in the middle of the living room. Clearly you had interrupted a conversation, because they both turned to you when you stepped in the door. You stared right back, putting away your keys and kicking off your office shoes, waiting for one of them to decide to speak.

“‘m sorry,” Johnny said, looking very uncomfortable and a bit flushed. He was clearly bothered by whatever he was apologizing for.

“Sorry about what?” you asked, ready for the other shoe to drop.

“I . . . ah- well, we,” he said looking over at Simon, standing there with his arms crossed, impassive as always. “We were trying to change that burnt out light in yer room and . . .” He rubbed at his arm, eyes wandering along the floor toward your room.

Your room without a door. Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline, eyes bugging out. Oh no.

“Simon gave me a boost up, but lost his grip. Dropped me,” he said turning his puppy eyes back on Simon. 

“Wouldn’t ‘ve happened if you stopped fuckin’ squirming like I asked,” Simon responded flatly. 

“He fell back into the door,” Johnny continued, ignoring him. “I fell on your bed and . . . “

You bolted over to your room. Your mouth fell open at the sight that greeted you. He must be more solid than you imagined, because your bed frame was absolutely shattered on one side. Wood splinters littered the floor around the impact of what you suspected was where Johnny had landed. If it was even possible, the door was obliterated even worse. Nothing was left except a strip of wood hanging off of the hinges. 

Your bed, you thought, slightly panicking, and the door? What were you going to do? You didn’t have the money for this. You stood, silent in the doorway, until Johnny sat a heavy, soothing hand on your shoulder.

“We’ll buy y’ a new one, don’t worry, bird,” he said crowding your space as he massaged down your back from your shoulder. He was sweaty. While it made you want to slither out from under his arm at first, when the spicy, pungent, manly smell hit you you were suddenly weak in the knees. “And you can have our bed ‘til it gets here, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you responded automatically, your voice as distant as the racing thoughts in your head. It only you would have been paying attention, then you would have seen the manic smile curling across Johnny’s face. 

Johnny and Simon made a quick exit after that, leaving you with a flimsy excuse about dinner plans and a promise to be back late. Several minutes after the door slammed shut behind them, you managed to shake yourself back into reality. 

You picked your way around the mess of wood shards across your bedroom floor and gathered a few supplies in order to spend the night lounging on the couch. It was nice to be alone for once. You took a long, leisurely shower, put on your most comfortable pj’s, and curled up with your computer. That distracted you until after the sun set. After the natural light dwindled away, the main room of the apartment was left hung with long, creepy shadows that faded into cold, silent blue as the night settled in. 

After dozing off several times to a video following a scavenged girl-dinner of popcorn and crackers, you had to finally face the question of weather you would take the guys up on their offer, or just let yourself fall asleep on the couch. You rolled up in your blanket, trying to convince yourself you would be comfortable for a full video before giving in. You shut your computer, leaving it to charge safely on the table for the night before facing your fears and heading into their room. 

Wrapped up in your blanket like a cloak, you hesitantly pushed open the door. You expected to see something, anything other than a normal (if large) bed and various pieces of plain furniture along the walls. You quickly checked for anything suspicious, like the blinking red light of a camera, scuttling across the floor and climbing gingerly into bed. You left the door cracked, just so they could see you were in here when they got back. The bed was comfortable with two noticeable divots worn into either side. As you rolled up in your blanket once more in the middle, you wondered which one was Johnny’s and which was Simon’s. 

You tried to sleep. You honestly did. You would drift off for a moment, almost falling under, before you would shudder awake in a panic. Every time, you expected to wake up with them standing over you, watching you. You huffed, rolling onto your side and pulling your blanket up over your nose. Maybe if you just closed your eyes and relaxed-

There was noise in the hall, a pair of deep voices, one letting out a laugh that sounded very familiar. A second later, the sound of a key slotted into the door lock. The laugh traveled into the apartment as the door opened for a moment before it cut off. Your breathing slowed but your heart hammered in your chest. Shit. You planned to be asleep before they got home. One set of footsteps crept inside carefully. They walked the few steps around the living room, then to your room. The door closed, followed by a few steps to the cracked door of their room.

“Ghost,” you heard Johnny whisper, “In here.” You heard heavy steps join him. The door creaked open. “She actually-” he started to say, before Simon cut him off. 

“‘s late,” he rumbled, voice fading as he walked away, possibly to take off his shoes and jacket. “Get in bed. Enough room for the three of us.”

You lay straight as a board as you listened to the two of them silently undress. Johnny was the first to crawl in bed next to you. Indeed, there was enough room, but he seemed to lay uncomfortably, staring at your back while both of you waited for Simon. The mattress creaked as he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling his legs up and settling in. Neither talked while they relaxed. You knew from listening through your wall nightly that this was not their usual routine. Still, Johnny quickly started to snore behind you, and you sighed in relief. 

“Can’t sleep?” Simon said above you. 

You opened your eyes and looked up the bed. He was laying stretched out along his side of the bed, arms behind his head. You nodded, not wanting to wake the other man beside you. Simon unfurled his arms, rolling next to you and pulling off your blanket. You shivered as your shell of warmth was taken away.

“Use to happen t’ me too,” he continued, large fingers brushing your exposed thigh. This was the most he had spoken to you the whole time you had lived here and he was making a pass at you? He picked up your hand, breaking away the clutch you had on your blanket to press your fingers to your pussy over your soft sleep-shorts. Your mouth fell open in a gasp. “This’ll help,” he said releasing your hand. When you didn’t move he urged you on. “Go on, lovie. Know you need it.”

Hand shaking under his watch and not really understanding why you were obeying him, your fingers moved over your shorts. You eventually found your clit under the fabric enough to spread a tingle through your sex. The motion of your hand shook the bed the tiniest bit. It made Simon hum in satisfaction. 

“There y’ go,” he mumbled, relaxing back.

You tried to build your pleasure, chasing it as best you could with the set up you were given until your hand cramped. You whined, pulling your hand away to flex it with your other. You were about to find Simon to apologize, to tell him you had tried your best, when his hand gripped your thigh again. 

“Needs help, Soap,” Simon told the man behind you.

Another shiver of panic racked your body as you felt the bed shift and a drawer open. Things shifted around, and a second later, Johnny was rolling back at your side. His breath sighed hot down your face and chest as he pressed something soft to your pulsing, covered clit. A click of a button removed the last shred of mystery as it started to vibrate against you, quiet buzzing filling the room.

Your mouth fell open, gasping a pitiful oh as Johnny . . . Soap, whatever he went by, worked the vibe in circles over your clit. Simon didn’t just lay there either. His large hands pushed your legs open for Johnny, holding one as he smoothed up and down over your skin. 

“Yeah,” Johnny sighed. “Like that? Need it like that?” 

You whined a yes in response, hands falling over your eyes. The intense vibrations of the wand worked you to your high incredibly fast. You were already shaking, core clenching and leaking, and then Simon pushed your shorts to the side. 

“Let ‘er finish good,” Simon commanded. 

Soap didn’t question him. He slid the vibrating head up through your slick, swirling around your exposed clit, playing with you. When your hips tried to follow his motions, he chuckled and gingerly started to travel up and down your clit, gently circling your bean. That punched a gasp from you. You clenched against nothing, vagina pulling tighter and tighter in pleasure until the vibe pressed just fractionally harder against you. 

Then you were gone, shaking and gasping as your clit pulsed under the unforgiving vibe. Simon pet at your head, wiping away sweat and mumbling as you thrashed in his arms. Your leg kicked away Johnny as he started to overstimulate you, finally making him remove the toy and turn it off. He wrapped his arms around you, uncaring that he crushed your exhausted form with his body. He hummed as he settled in next to you.

“Sorry it took so long, Birdie,” he sighed in your ear, hands running up your expanding ribs as you raced to catch your breath. “Had to make sure you’d be good f’ us.”