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abibliophobiaa · 1 year ago

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Chapter Four: Elena Munson

summary: what’s in a name? (7.2k words)

warnings: blood mention (r gets blood drawn); needle mention (same as before); mentions of abusive relationship (eddie’s father toward his mother); talks of death (eddie’s mother) and loss.

eddie munson x pregnant!reader || strangers to friends to lovers, unplanned pregnancy, and then they were roommates, forced proximity.

masterlist | previous chapter, next chapter

——

“Sweetheart, the foot tapping is making me a little anxious,” Eddie murmured, reaching over your lap to press his ringed fingers against your thigh.

“Oh I’m sorry,” you gasped, clutching his hand tight within your own, straining the knuckles white as your voice dropped lower, “I’m just a little nervous. I hate doctors, and needles, and they called me last minute to tell me I was getting blood drawn today. So excuse me for being a little much.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

But there was no winning when it came to you and your hormones; he’d lost that battle willingly early on. Decided when you were right, you were right. There was no point in arguing.

You’d playfully shove him off, were it not for the fact you were surrounded by other women in varying stages of pregnancy. All of which sitting either alone or with their partners, some unspoken band of sisterhood when one glanced your way and raised a brow from over the magazine they’d been reading.

“Is this your first one, dearie?” one woman asked, her husband’s bored expression dulling further as he dropped his magazine onto a table beside him and looked up at the two of you.

“Yeah,” you muttered, a little forlorn, sliding a hand down your midsection. “What gave it away?”

“The look on your faces. All that nervous excitement.” She arched a brow Eddie’s way. “Do you know what you’re having?”

“Not yet,” Eddie said, his shoulder brushing yours as he leaned in closer. “But we’ll find out today.”

“We’re excited,” you told them, jumping upward as your name was called and a nurse appeared in the doorway.

The couple wished you well on your way as you grabbed your things and followed the nurse down the hall, clutching at Eddie’s hand for support as she led you to a room to have your blood drawn. Immediately, your lungs tensed tight in your chest, taking in the little chair meant for you, with a rolling one Eddie tugged over when he asked if he could remain at your side.

Eddie tapped on the back of your hand as the nurse went to work prepping everything she’d need, drumming out a tune you couldn’t recognize.

“So I thought we might get tacos after this,” he suggested, drawing your attention to where he sat. He was all dark eyes and messy hair pulled back into a bun. Handsome, just as he always was. “How do you feel about tacos?”

“I…guess I could do tacos,” you said, biting at your bottom lip as the nurse had you make a fist and wrapped a rubber band tight around your bicep.

“What kind of tacos?” he asked, stroking a soft line against the inside of your wrist.

“Uhm…” You faintly heard the nurse tell you to take a deep breath. Barely registered the prick of the needle sinking into your skin as you answered, “Not sure, but I know I need cheese. Buckets and buckets of cheese.”

“Cheese, huh?” He chuckled, his dark eyes glancing over your arm to watch as the nurse tossed vial after vial into a container. But you relaxed against him all the same, deep breaths falling from your lungs with every brush of his fingers against your skin. “I don’t know about you, but nachos sound good, too. Don’t they?”

You nodded, face a little soft and hopeful, and he glanced up at the nurse’s awaiting gaze, adding, “We don’t eat out super often. Today is a treat.”

“It’s a big day,” the woman agreed. “I won’t tell the doctor, don’t worry. And just like that — you’re done, hon.”

“Really?” you asked. Eddie grinned to himself as you glanced down at the bright blue bandage around your elbow, his chest burning when you looked his way and murmured, “Thank you.”

“Always, Buttercup.”

The walk down to the examination room felt like decades shaved off your lives. Eager anticipation brimmed as you clambered up onto the table and the nurse continued through your routine vital checks, her voice soft as she announced a sonographer would be in soon for the ultrasound.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, palm running along your jeans, wiping away sweat-slicked skin.

“How am I feeling?” He shuddered out a breath. “Excited to see them. Nervous. Mostly excited.”

“Any last guesses as to what it is?”

You’d both been playfully arguing about it on the way to the doctor’s office.

You thought it had to be a boy, given the unruly nature of the little one who had begun to kick at you all hours of the day in the past couple of days, just on the back end of weeks of endless sickness. Once that abated, it seemed like they were insistent on finding other ways to make their presence known.

Eddie, on the other hand, believed whole-heartedly it was a girl. Said he’d had a feeling all along from the moment you sat together at the diner some weeks ago now.

“I’m sticking with my guess,” he said, not protesting at all as your fingers slid back into his, tangling in the space between the two of you. “Deep breaths. It’s gonna be fine.”

“You’re right.” Your back leaned against the table, shoulders relaxing, tension sliding off your form as his other hand ran up and down your forearm gently, tethering you to reality. “They’re fine. We’re fine. It’s going to be okay.”

The exam itself was different from the others that had come before it. More clinical, the technician quieter than they had been at previous appointments. You supposed it was the fact they needed to look into everything, taking time to measure and inspect every little organ and detail. But Eddie sat transfixed on the spot, elbows propped up on the table beside you, still clutching your hand tight in his own.

He was meeting his child for the first time, and the sight had your chest breaking open at the mere realization of it. At one point, you’d stopped watching the screen and instead opted for the man’s face. Reached over and patted his cheek as the sonographer pointed out the little thumb, pressed in the baby’s mouth — a sight that had his eyes growing wide and watery, breath faltering in the back of his throat.

“Are we finding out the sex today?” the sonographer asked.

Your head whipped around to face the screen, heart thumping madly as you and Eddie simultaneously said, “Yes.”

Time seemed to halt. You could feel Eddie’s hair tickling at your arm as he leaned in even further, his hand gripping yours tight, trying to get even the slightest hint from looking at the wriggling form on the screen.

“It’s a girl,” they announced, “and we are all done here. I’ll print out some pictures and the doctor will be in touch with you soon. I’ll give you two a moment. Congratulations.”

The door clicked and your breath fell in a giant whoosh, releasing the air you hadn’t meant to hold in. Beside you, Eddie brushed at his eyes, laughing disbelievingly to himself.

“A girl,” he repeated, testing out the words on his tongue. “You’re having a girl, sweetheart.”

“We’re,” you reminded him, a choked sob spilling from your lips as Eddie brushed at a tear that escaped your eye. “We’re having a little girl.”

Later, as you sat in the front seat of his van and he walked back to the car with multiple bags of your lunch in hand, you marveled at the photo. Pressed a hand to the small swell of your midsection, feeling her roll around again and again.

Jolted a bit before settling into his warmth as Eddie leaned over and dropped a kiss against your forehead, fingers cradling the back of your neck, whispering a soft ‘thank you’ against your skin. Confusion warred in your mind, glancing up into those umber eyes to find him softening there.

“I never…” He exhaled, thumb running over his daughter’s cheek. “My dad wasn’t around. Had been when I was younger, but he’d — he wasn’t a good man. I’d lost my mom pretty young. I never thought I’d be cut out for this. For a long time, it was just my Uncle and I. And I…I already love her so much. It seems so weird — how can you love someone you’ve never met, right? But I know I do, and I’m grateful you’re doing this with me.”

“She’s really lucky, Eddie.”

You left out we’re really lucky, Eddie.

But the sentiment rang true.

His eyes softened, and you worried for a moment he’d get emotional again like in the doctor’s office. But instead he handed you the bags and turned his key in the ignition, curls bouncing about his shoulders.

“Can I take you somewhere?”

Hesitation was far from your mind. In fact, as soon as he uttered the question, you’d nodded. Found yourself sitting now at Lover’s Lake, aptly named for the famous make out spot (though you were sure Eddie was only joking about that).

The windows were rolled down, the winter air turning over into spring already starting to warm up. You sat perched in the front seat beside Eddie, listening as the lake water lapped against the dock. As animals scurried on by, a flap of a tail from a fish, the sound of a bird chirping in the distance.

“Wasn’t sure if you’d been here,” he said, reaching over to grab the bags. “I come here whenever I need to just get away and think.”

He started to pull out the various packages and opened the front driver’s side door, rushing around toward the back to open the vehicle up. A questioning brow raised, head turning over your shoulder, taking in the sight of the man scurrying about to gather some pillows and blankets, laying them out in the back of the van. He patted the surface, eyes on your face, and you narrowed your gaze in questioning.

“Have lunch with me?” he asked, waving you over once more.

With hesitant fingers, you pushed open the side door, rushing around to clamber up into the back beside him. Once settled down, he propped a pile of pillows near your back and tossed a blanket over your thighs, sliding over the tray of nachos closer to your bent kneecaps.

“Cheese for the lady,” he teased, sliding over an extra container of melted cheese for your nachos. “This place actually has really good tacos. Some would say that Taco Tower is the best, but I think this place takes the cake.”

“There’s this place back in the city that actually has really good ones,” you muttered around a mouthful of chips. A napkin raised to your lips, wiping at the remnants of your sour cream there. “All different flavors and types. The lines would always be so long. But this is really good, and the cheese is everything I could have ever dreamed of.”

He chuckled, smiling ruefully. “Do you miss it? The city.”

“Maybe in the beginning,” you said, really giving it a thought. “But I’d told you when we met that night that I dreamed of something slower and a smaller town. Turns out fate led me to Hawkins, I guess.”

“Of all the towns.” He barked out a laugh.

“I love it here,” you admitted, staring out at the lake.

You can smell the nachos below, the crisp air, the freshly cut grass. Back home, it would have been car exhaust, those untrustworthy water dogs, garbage pails. Different, but welcomed. Appreciated. Perfect for where you saw yourself and the little girl tucked beneath your heart.

“I miss Micah and Jeremiah. They’re like family to me,” you said, turning your head to glance at Eddie. “But here it feels like home already. Quiet. Peaceful.”

“I kind of resented it for a while,” he said slowly, breaking off a piece of his taco into a tin. “Moved here when I was twelve. Right around when my mom died. I’d been sent to stay with my uncle, which I hated at first — but I don’t know where I’d have ended up if it hadn’t been with him.”

“You mentioned your mom before.” He stilled, pushing his tray to the side. “Can I…can I ask what she was like?”

He remained quiet for a while. A soft, somber look slid over his face. Those dark lashes lowered a bit, head tipping downward. Fear knitted in the back of your throat; worried over having pushed him too far, the wound still too deep after all this time, the loss of a mother so young so understandably painful.

But as he raised his head again, he offered the slightest of smiles, a quick twitch to the corner of his mouth as he brushed a hair behind his ear that the wind picked up and curled over his mouth.

“She was, uh, she was really great. Always smiling, but I think that was mostly for my own benefit growing up. I didn’t know my dad was…I didn’t know he was.” He swallowed, and your heart plummeted. “He was a piece of shit. Put his hands on her, and she wore a goddamn smile on her face just so I wouldn’t have to worry about it. Obviously when I grew up and realized, I did.”

You shifted closer on the blanket, hand curling over the tattoos on the back of his forearm. Inky bats you traced the wing spans of, easing the tension in his shoulders, heart skipping at the audible exhale from his lungs.

“But she had this really pretty hair.” Your fingers trapped a wind spun curl between index and thumb, his beaming lips blooming wider at your arched brow, at the encouraging grin that slid across your lips. “Yeah, like mine. Dark eyes. She was really beautiful. She always had this way of making you feel loved. Just super positive, bright, happy. She was a spitfire. Kind of like you, in that regard. I can only hope our daughter gets that. She loved reading, and I think that’s where my love for fantasy came about; she’d read to me all the time. She’d also — well, I’d come home after school and she’d always be cooking or baking something —”

“Like you,” you pointed out, tugging your blanket up higher on your lap, feeling his dark stare on your face.

“Yeah, we’d cook together. Kind of became our thing,” he said, a little sadly. “My dad was in and out at that point. Came around when he needed money — for alcohol, drugs, to get him out of whatever bind he’d gotten himself into. It didn’t matter though, she was my best friend and we had each other.”

Until they didn’t.

It was the unspoken sentence that lingered in the air, your fingers reaching over onto his lap to curl tentatively around his fingers. He didn’t hesitate to flip your palm within his own, turning it face up, his index finger tracing along the ridges in your skin. Just tracing the curves and edges of your palm, silence extending.

“We’d been driving home from my school one day. The roads were icy and —” He lifted his head to the ceiling, jaw clenching. “I woke up in a hospital and my uncle was there. I don’t even remember what he said, my ears were ringing so loud. I just knew that I made it and she didn’t. We buried her and I moved here.”

“Eddie…”

“Yeah, it’s fucked.” His wobbly mouth felt like a knife in the chest.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, “She sounded so lovely. I’m so sorry.”

“She would have loved you,” he said, gripping the edge of your chin and giving it a soft wiggle, lips tilting upward at your wrinkled nose. “Would have been over the moon if I told her she was gonna be a grandma. Wonder if she knows; I’d like to think she does.”

“She does know.” Your voice wavered, eyes darting to the lake, tears blurring your vision. “I know she does. What was her name?”

“Elena.”

“Her name is as beautiful as she sounds.” A swift nudge had you pausing, a watery laugh spilling from your lips, glancing downward. “I think she likes it too.”

“She’s moving again?” At your nod, he asked, “Can I…is it weird if I…”

“Uh — no, not at all. Here uh —”

He remained still as you shifted closer to him, the blanket falling off of your thighs onto the floor below. You cupped your hand around his, drawing it beneath the hem of your sweater.

A touch that previously would have had heat rolling in your gut for another reason, now suddenly became more intimate in a way you’d never imagined back when you met him on Halloween.

“You might have to give it a minute.”

“Not in a rush.”

He laughed beside you, his gaze firmly planted on where his wrist was draped in fabric, palm warm against your skin.

“She’s kind of like…down further,” you muttered, shivering as his fingers slipped a little lower, brushing at the line of the jeans you wore beneath your sweater.

Your eyes fluttered close, mind willing the little girl within to move. As though she were tethered to you — as though she could hear you.

Eddie had told you not yet, that she’d be able to hear him in a couple of weeks (and therefore, he also promised to start playing his music for her to get her accustomed to the life of a rockstar’s daughter). But still, you wished for it all the same, for her to shift, to give him this moment so he could feel connected to her.

“I think she stopped…” He exhaled, lips dropping into a frown, though his fingers still pressed against the warmth of your skin, spreading wider to cover more surface area. And then — “Wait, was that?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, grinning widely as she moved again and his eyes widened further.

“That’s so cool.”

His breath came out a little shaky, your eyes watching his beautiful features as he waited, as if he’d be able to see her, as if he could pinpoint the next movement. And once he’d felt one, another round was spurred on, and then another, each making his lips tug upward further. Like this he was all soft angles, the curve of his jaw, gentle slope of his nose, those dark eyes narrowing in complete and utter awe of what he was experiencing. It made your breath catch, lungs tightening, stomach rolling wondrously.

“Hi there,” he muttered, bending lower toward your midsection, and your chest ached with it. “I’m your silly dad. You must love cheese, just like your mom. She dances when she eats it too.”

You shoved at him, earning a barked laugh. “Shut up.” You waited a moment, his hand still against your skin, and asked, “What do you think about calling her Elena? I just feel like…she’d been calm up until we started talking about your mom. It felt like a sign.”

His eyes flickered upward, dark and scorching along your skin. “Really?”

“Elena Munson does have a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

He glanced down again to where he was connected to his unborn daughter, and sniffled loudly. “I’d love that. Thank you, Buttercup. You don’t know what that means to me.”

You both sat like that as evening turned into night. Him with his hand against your abdomen, relishing in those special moments with his daughter. With Elena.

And you watched as he realized fully that he was going to be a father — as he fell in love with his little girl. Tried to keep your tears at bay as he ran a thumb along your skin like he’d traced the photo of her earlier, muttering he loved her out loud, before wiping at the underside of his eye.

Your fingers reached up to brush at his cheek, thumb trailing along his jaw. “Now how about we go get some milkshakes.”

“Chocolate?” he mused, knowing you’d had one a couple days ago when you insisted you needed to have one at eleven at night.

“Please?”

And he could never say no to you, not really.

——

It wasn’t that Eddie hadn’t wanted to tell Wayne about Elena. He just didn’t know how to. Wanted to do so with your company, and in your own timing. And with the craziness of being in California, and then you moving in with him shortly thereafter, no time seemed like the right time.

Until now, that is.

He’d been working on your car in the garage, doing a quick oil change, when the phone had rang. His uncle’s voice spilled through the line as he’d asked Eddie to stop by for dinner — nearly yelling at him to stop being a stranger.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, catching your sleepy stare from where your head poked up over the couch.

He’d thought it adorable how often you napped; figured you needed the rest anyway, despite the fact he knew you would be apologizing left and right for it later since he’d been working on your car while you did so.

“There’s, ah, a reason why I’ve been a little MIA,” Eddie said calmly. “And I kind of wanted to talk to you about it. But it’s the kind of conversation we would need to have in person.”

“Well alright,” his uncle acquiesced gruffly. “Come by this weekend then.”

“Can I bring a friend?”

“Oh I see now.” Only, he didn’t understand half of it. “Bring ‘em on by. They special to you?”

Both of them, he thought, catching your form in the living room. Watched as you folded up your blanket and placed it over the top of the loveseat, snatching your slippers up from the floor and padding into the kitchen.

“Yeah, they’re special,” he admitted, grinning to himself as your head turned to look at him, a box of berries perched within your palm. He reached out to grab one, your nose wrinkling at him as you settled at the kitchen table. “Sunday sounds good? Our usual time?”

“Yeah, Ed,” his uncle said. “See you soon, boy.”

“See you soon.”

As the line went dead, your curiosity only piqued. He could tell from the little furrow of your brows, the way you glanced down at your berries as if they were the most interesting things you’ve seen all day. How you avoided eye contact with him, so as to not make it seem like you’d been listening in on his phone call. He hardly minded, but damn it he thought it so cute how you assumed he did. Hated that his thoughts ventured there more often than not as of late; ventured to that untouched, and to remain untouched, part of your relationship. The romantic part, the place where his emotions dwelled most days.

“You gonna ask who that was, sweetheart?” he teased, dropping down onto the chair across from you. His ringed fingers slipped into the container, grinning to himself when you reached forward and jokingly swatted at him. “I know you’re just dying to know.”

“Are you going to tease me or tell me?” you huffed, eyes lingering a little too long on his mouth when he tossed another berry within.

“It was my uncle.”

“The famous uncle,” you repeated, trying your hardest to keep your intrigue at bay. “The one who raised you that you speak so highly of.”

“Yes, the very one.” He chuckled to himself, tapping your chin when your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, worrying at it. Your bottom lip popped back out, eyes drawn high on his face. “He and I usually have weekly dinners. We haven’t because — well, I was in California for a couple months, and then we’ve been busy with…all of this. But he wants to get together this weekend. And I asked if you could come along.”

“Eddie, I don’t want to intrude on your —”

“I want to tell him about Elena. I want him to meet you.” He reached over to thumb at your wrist, feeling you relax a bit under his gentle touch. “I want you there.”

Apparently Wayne — he refused to let you call him ‘Uncle Wayne’ — knew right away when Eddie had asked you to come along that the news he wanted to share happened to be the two of you were expecting. Said he’d had a gut feeling, but that he was over the moon excited to have a little grand baby in a few months time.

The man himself was lovely. Rougher around the edges, and yet kind in a way that had you immediately comfortable in his presence. You’d even moved outside onto the front step with him, Eddie inside finishing up the dishes and getting dessert ready, a cup of steaming camomile tea resting in your palm, foot tapping on the ground beneath you.

“You know, I haven’t seen that boy smile so much in a long time. You’re good for one another. Always smilin’ and laughin.’”

You didn’t have it in your heart to correct him — to tell him your relationship with his nephew was strictly platonic. Not with the way he’d smiled at you both over dinner, looking so damn proud of Eddie it cleaved your heart down the center. Because this man loved your dark haired metalhead inside. Would defend him to the ends of the earth, if need be.

“I’m proud of him,” he continued, lifting his glass to his lips to take a sip of his coffee. “Worked hard to get himself to where he is, and finally starting up his music career. Now raisin’ a baby. His late Mama is smilin’, if I had to guess.”

“We decided to name her Elena,” you told him. You heard the sharp inhale beside you. “She sounded wonderful.”

“She was one of the best. She loved that boy more than anythin’ in this world. I remember her sittin’ right where you are when she brought him here the first time. He had this dark head of hair, even then. Screamed bloody murder; always had a pair of lungs, my Ed. But god she loved that boy.”

“He’s a good man,” you admitted softly, “hard not to, you know? He talks about you a lot. How you raised him. I bet a lot of that is because of you.”

“Thank you, sweet girl,” he said, staring up at the starry sky. “You plannin’ on staying in Hawkins?”

“Yeah,” you say, stroking along your middle fondly. “I think it’ll be good to plant ourselves here. I have my job over at the school, there’s a daycare nearby, we have friends here. Eddie and I haven’t discussed what happens when he goes on tour, but I know he intends to be here as much as possible.”

“I’m glad,” he admits, glancing your way.

“And we’ll bring Elena over as much as you want.”

His answer was a kind hand over yours on your mug, followed by the sound of a screen door opening and a fluffy head of curly hair poking out. His dark eyes met yours first. “Dessert is ready now.”

Eddie approached you from the front, holding out a hand you definitely didn’t need, but you took it anyway, allowing him to help you to your feet. He curled his palm around your cup of tea as you then helped Wayne up, warmth blooming in your chest as the older man gripped your shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze, slipping inside wordlessly.

“You two have a good time together?” Eddie asked against the crown of your head.

Shoulders slouching as he reached up to rub at the knots in them, you turned your head over your shoulder. “He’s really great. I understand why you love him so much. He speaks so highly of you, too.”

“Yeah,” Eddie huffed out, cheeks brightening a bit even in the moonlight. “He’s, ah, he’s the best.”

You spent hours together playing Monopoly. Watching as Eddie lost his composure when he’d eventually started losing to his uncle, and not just losing — paying up seemingly every turn. They were a joy to watch, an honor to encounter. What with the way they spoke, how deeply they loved, the strength of their bond evident and on display. And later, as you hugged his uncle goodbye and walked out to the car to get in, your eyes half-lidded in your tiredness, Eddie lingered briefly in Wayne’s doorway, heart clenching as his uncle wound him in a tight hug.

“Love you, son. Don’t be a stranger now, I’ll be wanting to see more of your little lady before my grand baby comes now, you hear me?”

“Oh, she’s not,” he swallowed, looking over his shoulder to where you scrambled into the passenger seat. “We’re…figuring things out.”

“But there’s love there. Respect. Those are good, strong foundations,” he stated plainly, waving when you did.

“I don’t know what you mean…”

“She cares for you. You don’t think in my old age I know what it looks like? That I can’t recognize it on the face?” Eddie exhaled, rubbing a hand up and down his neck. “Just give it time. You’ll know what to do. Always do.”

Just give it time.

——

Work that following Monday proved long and arduous. It also happened to be the day your feet finally started to hurt from standing all hours of the day, lower back aching as you stepped through the front door and kicked off your shoes.

The home itself was quiet, save for the sound of Eddie drumming his fingers along the kitchen table as you entered the living room. He had your notebook sprawled out on the table in front of him, a dark head of hair poking up to see you as you approached, fear furrowing his brows when you dipped your gaze downward to peer at what he stumbled upon.

“It was out,” he muttered rapidly, closing the book with a resounding slap. “I swear. I would never just read your personal stuff like that.”

“I know,” you said, stepping further into the room, palm rubbing against your presently aching lower back. “I forgot I left it out. It’s fine that you read it.”

“Sweetheart, you know that stuff is really good, right?” He lifted the notebook once more, fingers running along the leather binding. “Like — really good. You told me you liked to write, but you didn’t mention you’re ridiculously talented.”

You shrugged. “I always wanted to write. I went to school for it, but the issue was always…I couldn’t just write full time. I needed to pay rent. So I worked for a library and then…never had time to write once I started doing that.”

“And now?”

“Since I moved here, I’ve honestly written a ton. I wrote all of what you see there in a little over two months.” You rubbed a hand along your forearm, feeling a little bashful. “Sometimes it’s a sentence in the morning, or sometimes, especially now that she’s been keeping me up sometimes at night, it’ll be a few hundred words when I can’t sleep. But it’s the first time I’ve been consistently writing in years.”

“You need to talk to someone about this. Show this to them.”

“I really don’t think it’s that good, Eddie.” You felt your cheeks warm, hand coming up to rest over your chest, foot digging into the carpet below.

For years, your ex had suggested that writing wasn’t a real career. That it couldn’t get you anywhere, would lead to heartbreak and disappointment. Suggested it was a waste of time. And you’d started to accept that — for a time.

Hated that you did when you could see such excitement in Eddie’s eyes from your written words poured out onto the pages.

“It is that good,” he said, placing the book down onto the coffee table. “I know someone. Nancy Byers. She’s a journalist but I know she’s friends with publishers. She might even know someone you can contact to be an agent.”

“Really?”

Your breath caught. Held for a prolonged beat. You’d always dreamed of writing. Always thought it was your purpose, but it got lost on the way. Swept up in the wind, in the chaos of bills and plans, in business and lost naïveté, in reality in the form of a baby made after a night that was meant to be a one night stand. It seemed like a long lost dream — or at least had for a time.

But now.

Now Eddie seemed convinced you could do this, his eyes so bright and hopeful, voice strained in his excitement as he said, “Are you kidding me? I wouldn’t just say it if I didn’t mean it. Have you written anything else aside from this historical romance piece?”

You dropped down onto a chair beside him, snatching the notebook and flicking it nearer to the front of the book, turning to a children’s story you'd written shortly after you’d found out you were expecting.

A particularly rhyme-filled book for hopeful parents, to read to their little one, showing the nervousness and excitement about bringing a new life into the world. And at the end, though there weren’t pictures within it yet, you expressed to Eddie you pictured there would be a drawing of the parents holding their child at last, overjoyed to finally meet them.

“I worked in the children’s section when I was still in the city,” you explained, flipping the book a few more pages back to another children’s book you’d written about bears that go to fairs. “So usually we’d read all the incoming books to better make recommendations for parents. I’d get inspired and write something silly of my own. Like this bear book.”

“It’s not silly.”

And he wasn’t looking at you as though it were either. He held his gaze on your face as your fingers rested across the pages of your old notebook, regarding you with a look in his eye you couldn’t quite place a name to. Interest, intrigue, awe.

“You really think they’re good?” you asked, heart fluttering away nervously behind your ribcage. “Like you really think they could be something?”

“Yes,” he said, bringing a hand up to rub a gentle circle into your shoulder, “I really really think so. I’ll get you Nancy’s information. Her husband, Jonathan, is also in photography and design. I wonder if he knows someone who could help as well with the children’s books. Illustrations and all of that. You should seriously try and submit these.”

Heat crawled up your spine at his words. “Thank you, Eddie.”

He waited a moment and then asked, “Do you have any more?”

Giddy on riding the high of his sudden interest, the two of you curled up on the living room couch, flipping through the pages of your journal, describing to him how you pictured certain images in your head. Described what you’d want depicted on each page, color schemes and the like. You knew you wouldn’t have much sway in the matter, but it was still fun to dream.

Eventually, he’d asked about the end of your adult romance novel. Wanted to know all the sordid details of your Viscount who had fallen in love with his brother’s best friend, and you told him. Even if he’d be your first and only ever reader of the book, it brought joy to your heart seeing him so excited with every tidbit you gave him. So genuinely invested in a story that you’d written.

“After I finish this one, I did have a plan for a pirate romance as well,” you expressed after a while, when day had turned into evening, and your belly had started to grumble in your hunger.

Hearing that low grumble, Eddie lifted himself up off of the couch and extended a hand your way. Helped you up and off of it with a tug, his hand resting on the small of your back as he ushered you toward the kitchen, saying, “I’m going to start us dinner. But don’t think you’re getting away with just dropping that story idea on me without telling me all you have planned for it.”

You paused in your footsteps, eyes burning with the suddenness of your emotions. These unnamed emotions that constantly flooded your system as of late. Without a name to place to them, you turned into his chest and wrapped your arms around his waist instead, settling on running from them, pulling him as close as you could.

He didn’t pause. Didn’t falter or tense. Instead, a hand came up and curled around your hips, low against your waist. Another slid up and over your shoulders, stroking a line into the back of your sweater, warming you through the material.

“You okay there, sweetheart?”

Nodding, you mumbled, “Yeah, I’m okay. Just…can I stay here for a minute?”

Better than okay — you felt seen. For the first time in a long time, you felt wholly seen by someone.

Without judgment or ridicule, only acceptance.

“Yeah.” He held you tighter. “For as long as you need.”

——

The middle of March brought with it warmer weather and your twenty-second week. It brought a freshly painted bedroom. Pastel pink, gleaming in sunlight pouring in through the windows. It brought with it a new hamper, boxes of baby clothes gifted by Steve and Chrissy, and deliveries from furniture companies.

It brought with it fresh cinnamon buns that melted on your tongue that sunny Saturday morning, and the image of Eddie sitting on the nursery floor, pink tongue tucked against his bottom lip, tank top showing almost too many tattooed ribs (for your sanity) with his best friend Steve tinkering away across from him.

You’d insisted you had a ton of time to put everything together, but Eddie had been on a mission since he woke that morning, more than sure he’d be capable of handling it all on his own. A few hours later, he’d called in for reinforcements — and you called in an order for pizzas for the guys, swallowing your own heaping mouthful of sauce and cheese in the kitchen with a loud gulp as Eddie slipped into the room rubbing a paper towel along the back of his sweaty neck, revealing that tantalizing curve of his hip bone beneath his Corroded Coffin tank, that smattering of hair low against his abdomen, the soft of his stomach that you’d never forget you marked the path of with your ton —

“Smells so good I could kiss you right now —” He paused, as though he’d realized what he said. As though he caught the way your eyes nearly bulged out of your head, nearly choking on your lunch. “Not that I’m going to. It’s just a phrase. A thing people say. A saying.”

“It’s fine,” you laughed, even though the racing of your heart told you otherwise. “How is the room coming along? You really didn’t have to do all of this. We have a long way to go till she gets here, my friend.”

“We’re almost finished up. And enough of that. I wanted to,” he reminded you, your hand raising in a wave as Steve entered, wearing a white shirt, a pair of tattered basketball shorts, and a backwards baseball bat. “One less thing to worry about.”

“Are you good if I head home soon?” Steve asked, snatching a slice of pizza and a plate from the table top. “Melody is going to stay with Chrissy’s parents and I’m planning on taking her out to dinner.”

“Oh my gosh, Steve, absolutely. You already did more than enough,” you reassured him.

“Seriously,” Eddie said, “I owe you.”

“Pretty sure he was about to start crying soon if you hadn’t showed up with all the whining I kept hearing,” you joked, earning a half-hearted glare from Eddie.

“There’s too many pieces and the directions don’t make sense. Might as well be written in another language.”

Steve chuckled, taking another few bites of his slice before wiping his hands on a paper towel. “We’re still good for next weekend with the kids at my place, right?” His question was directed at Eddie, but your brow arched upward.

“You have more kids?” you teased, though you’d already met some of the ones Steve was referring to.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “A whole bunch of them. Though they’re not really kids anymore.”

“We started hosting DND nights a few years back. Some of Eddie’s guys from Corroded Coffin come, and the kids. Depends on who is free at the time. But the next one is next weekend,” Steve explained, moving to the sink to throw out his dish, catching the image of Elena from your most recent appointment on the fridge. “She’s cute, looks like you — good thing with this guy’s face, am I right?”

He glanced your way as he said it, and Eddie bent the guy nearly in half, arm right around his neck until Steve punched at Eddie’s bare ribs, both laughing brightly.

It dawned on you then, how much had changed in such a short time, and yet how much you loved that it had. This feeling of love and familiarity between them, forged in years of friendship, now an extension of your own life.

It felt safe and secure — the kind of place you could see your daughter raised in, a place for you to rest your head.

Chrissy, Robin, Steve. Eddie. The kids. Wayne. Elena. Different, and yet welcomed. Unfamiliar, and yet fond.

Your heart swelled with it, growing fuller as Steve left and you followed Eddie into Elena’s room, as you took in her newly assembled crib and the nearly finished changing table positioned against the wall. He’d already gone and put some of the clothes you’d bought for her in the closet, a kaleidoscope of color, each outfit cuter than the last.

“Well?” he asked, coming up to stand beside you as you slowly circled around and around in the middle of the room, taking in everything. He halted you with a hand at your side, his lip twitching at the perfectly aimed nudge that pushed back against his palm. “What do you think?”

“It’s perfect,” you exhaled, still overwhelmed by the fact he’d gone and done all of this, just so his house would feel a little more like home for you both. “All of it. She’s going to love it.”

And you…well, you realized then you might have the tiniest, most glaringly obvious, bit of feelings for the man who had gone and done it all.

——

please let me know what you think, and stay tuned for next weeks chapter titled ‘one bed’ 😉🩷

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x pregnant!reader #lunaloveseddie

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selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs · 1 year ago

Text

Perfection

Self-Aware! Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN! Reader x Self-Aware! Nikolai Gogol

Description: A passing comment makes you feel terrible about yourself. Fyodor and Nikolai disagree.

Set between Surprise and Sick Day

Warning: OOC. Body Insecurity. Hateful thinking during eating. Rude comments. Reader have hateful thoughts about themselves. English is my second language.

_______

You were in one of the many fast food restaurants in your city. Today you have a movie night and need some snacks for that. You were waiting in line for your turn to make order. Meanwhile, you read the menu once again. Maybe, something new was added.

Movie night was time full of unhealthy food and different movies, starting with classic films and ending up with any trashy movie you could find.

Today you were going to watch a bunch of Halloween movies. "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" and "Ghostbusters" with everyone. And, after kids go to bed, you will watch "Bram Stoker's Dracula" just to hear Bram's comments about vampires and "Nightmare on Elm Street".

You knew, that tonight's going to be fun.

"Hello, how may I help you?" asked the cashier. They looked a little bit interested in everything, that happened around. You smile.

"Hello. I will have seven big buckets of fried wings and five big french fries. Thank you."

You took money from your pocket and put them on the counter. You knew, how much you need to pay, it wasn't the first time you made the order.

Cashier's eyes widen. He looked at you from head to toes. He mumbles.

"I-It will be ready in a few minutes..."

The cashier disappeared behind the kitchen's door. You start waiting. You decide to have a better look at some pictures, that were on the wall.

While you were looking at them, you heard hashed voices coming from the kitchen.

"What? Seven buckets of fried wings and five big french fries? Won't they burst?" said an unfamiliar voice.

"They immediately took the right amount of money from their pocket. It looks like this is not the first time they have made this order. It's quite obvious, really. Just look at their... cheeks... hands... stomach... Look at their everything!" The cashier from earlier answered.

You saw his reflection in the window. He was pointing at you and making some gestures in the air. Like he was trying to draw a sphere in the air.

You became still. You tried to tell yourself, that their opinion shouldn't matter, that they just bored and thought that you were an easy target.

"They looked like a balloon. A barrel with lard!"

You grit your teeth. Will you two stop and give me my order?

Finally, they became bored and returned to the kitchen. In a few moments, you finally got your order.

You glare at the cashier, but didn't say anything. Soon you will be home, having a good time with your friends.

You stomped away from the restaurant, holding bags with food in your hands. For one moment, you saw your reflection in the restaurant's window.

Your... cheeks do look chubbier.... And arms...

You hurry to the car. Kunikida was waiting for you.

You put bags on the back sit and sat on the front passenger seat.

You were silent on your way home.

You were staring at your reflection in the car window.

Were your cheeks always that chubby?

________

This evening was too cold for a summer evening.

So you decide to put on your jacket.

New jacket... That just month weeks ago was big to you.

New jacket, that now you could hardly put on you.

Small... It was small for you.

You decide, that you aren't that cold.

_________

The table in the living room were full of junk food.

Popcorn, nachos, tacos, chips, fried wings, french fries and soda drinks.

So tasty... So unhealthy...

...so much food, that will make you fatter...

The movie was on...

And each snack you ate felt like a rock in your stomach...

_________

After movie night was over, you locked yourself in your bedroom.

You take a better look at yourself in the mirror.

You have gained weight.

It was impossible, not to do it, while living with BSD Cast. Ivan was a good baker, Junchirou's cooking was amazing, Kenji could fry a steak better, than in any fancy restaurant, Kyouka's cooking make you want seconds, and it was impossible to say 'no' to food, that was cooked by Fyodor and Nikolai.

And how you can refuse to share snacks with Ranpo, or not have a tea party with Kirako and Naomi?

You decide to lose some weight... Do more exercises, then usual.

And ate less...

________

You manage to skip breakfast.

You just said that you were too tired and want to sleep some more.

They didn't ask you any questions.

You manage to skip lunch.

You pretend to be sleeping. Still.

You were forced to have dinner.

You couldn't sleep all day.

You are dinner with everyone. For dinner, you had mushed potatoes and pork.

You ate some mushed potatoes...

...your hips will be even wider...

You ate some pork..

... your stomach soon will look like you swallowed a globe...

You were smiling and talking with Atsushi, discussing last news...

And ate... Ate... Ate...

...they were right, you are a barrel with lard...

It takes your everything not to make yourself vomit after the dinner. If you didn't lose weight...

... soon they will leave a fat ball like you...

Everything is going to be okay... More exercises and less food... It will help...

________

For one week, you were trying to lose weight.

You train with Hunting Dogs even harder than before.

You didn't notice worried glances, that Teruko and Fukuchi cast at you. You didn't notice Jounou's attempts to make you rest. You didn't notice Tachihara's and Tetchou's hesitation, while they were exercising with you.

You didn't notice, that you looked less and less healthy.

_________

For one week, you skipped meals.

You find any excuse you could. Any reason you could find.

"I am not hungry" "Sorry, I need to finish something for my university" "I need to be somewhere right now, will have dinner in the city."

You choose to ignore worried glances.

You didn't manage to skip meals completely. You ate some fruits and vegetables every day. Not enough for a real meal.

You refused to have snacks with Ranpo. You choose to ignore, how hurt he looked, while hearing your 'no' for the third time in a week.

You refused to drink tea with Kirako and Naomi. You choose to ignore their questions, if they did something wrong.

You ignored, that you became more and more weaker.

______

You were banned from going to the training area. Something about you needing some rest and stop overworking yourself.

You could protest, but Gide and Verlaine, who were guiding the entrance to the training area, didn't look even slightly interested in hearing your arguments.

You couldn't do anything, so you return home.

And you immediately were greeted by Nikolai and Fyodor. Kolya grinned.

"Hey, [Y/N], let's have some lunch! I made pampushky¹ and Fedya made borscht! You will like it!"

Borscht and pampushky...

... even more fat...

... what if, back in May, Fyodor only asked to cuddle with you, because you were fat and warm, and he was cold?...

You lick your lips and mumbles.

"I can't... I must go to the library... In university library..."

Fyodor and Nikolai stared at each other.

Fyodor spoke. His voice was soft.

"Myshonok... Today is Sunday."

You close your eyes. What reason... Any reason...

You opened your mouth, trying to say something else, when a small bun was carefully shoved into your mouth.

"Here, Birdy, try it.... Please, just eat something..." Nikolai's voice sounded pleading.

You want to spit it out. But you had no other choice, but chew.

Fat pig... Hideous creature... You can't even hold yourself together...

You swallowed.

Before you can say something else, a spoon was put into your mouth.

Borscht... Warm soup... With meat and cabbage...

And sour cream...

"Myshonok, you need to eat. Stop starving yourself." Fyodor's voice was firm.

You will gain more weight... Even more clothes won't fit you...

You swallowed.

You looked at Nikolai and Fyodor. Both of them looked happy, that you ate at least one pampushka and one spoon of borscht.

And you despised yourself.

Nikolai took a step closer to you. He put his hands on your shoulders.

"Was it good? I sure, it was. I will bring another one... Oh, and a bowl of Fyodor's borscht! Just let me..."

You didn't know, what made you do this, but you were so close to screaming at Nikolai for giving you bread. You want to hurt Fyodor for forcing you to eat soup with sour cream.

hurt them hurt them them them make them pay say that you hate Them say that you hate them hurt them HURT YOURSELF

SAY THAT YOU HATE THEM

You open your mouth...

...hate them for what? For being your friends? For sticking around? For spending time with you? For worrying about you?...

...When was the last time you ate? Have a full meal and not a piece of apple? When was the last time you spent time with others? Were you even talking to Hunting Dogs while training? Did you say 'hello' to them...

You let out a quiet sob.

And immediately were pressed against Fyodor's chest. He draped his coat over you.

"Коля, я сейчас пойду и поговорю с Мышонком. Пора докопаться до правды. Сможе��ь сделать так, чтобы нас не побеспокоили?²" Fyodor's voice was calm. His grip was strong. You heard Nikolai's voice.

"Я це зроблю. Вас ніхто не потурбує.³" He sounds... worried. He stepped closer to Fyodor and lift the coat.

"Please... I miss you..."

He softly rubbed his cheek against yours and stepped away.

Fyodor's coat were once again draped over you.

You didn't resist, when Fyodor start leading you somewhere.

_____

The door closes behind you.

Fyodor removed his coat.

Both of you were in your room.

Your breathing was hard.

Fyodor was just standing here. Looking at you.

He spoke first.

"Myshonok, what's going on? You haven't eaten for one week, you hardly talk to anyone. We are worried about you."

You didn't answer. You were just swallowing tears, that were running down your cheeks.

You feel Fyodor's breath on your ear.

"[Y/N], please, talk to me."

You finally found your voice.

You told him about cashiers. About your sweater. About your insecurities. About hating yourself for eating food. About wanting to hurt Kolya and him just moments ago.

When you finish talking, only your sobs were heard.

Fyodor carefully squeezed your shoulders.

"[Y/N], everything about you is perfect. You are perfect, both inside and outside."

Your eyes met with Fyodor's purple eyes. They were so soft, so full of hidden affection. His hands cupped your cheeks.

"You aren't disgusting. You should not change because of some random person comments. And you only hurt yourself. You were almost starving all this week, you stopped talking to any of us. You try to make as many exercises as Tetchou normally do!"

Fyodor put his face closer to yours.

"Please, don't hurt yourself. If you feel down, just came to any of us. We all love you and want you to be happy. And for me..."

He kissed your cheek.

"For me, you are nothing less, than a perfection."

His eyes were so warm. You sobbed and hide your face in his chest.

He was warm. His embrace was everything you need right now.

"I... I..." you can't form a full sentence. Fyodor whispered, petting your head.

"Shhh... It's okay... It's okay... It will be okay..."

Fyodor took a step back, without breaking the embrace. He opened the door. You hear footsteps.

Now you were hugged by Fyodor and Nikolai at the same time.

Now you were sure, that everything is going to be fine.

_______

After you calm down, Fyodor, Nikolai and you had lunch together. It's not only was tasty, but very filling.

Then you three had a movie marathon. You were nested between Fyodor and Nikolai. A large bowl of popcorn with butter, salt and caramel was placed on your lap. It was tasty.

You had dinner with everyone. They were so happy, seeing you again. You felt, how the rest of your worries and sadness disappeared.

But, the last of bit of your sadness truly disappeared, when you were laying on your bed, in a middle of Fyodor and Nikolai cuddle sandwich. Your head were laying on Nikolai's chest. Fyodor's face were pressed against the back of your head.

Before drifting to sleep, you feel, how Fyodor kissed you on the back of your neck.

And whispered.

"Ты само совершенство, [Т/И].⁴"

______

1. Pampushky - a small savory or sweet yeast-raised bun or doughnut typical for Ukrainian cuisine.

2. Russian. "Kolya, I’ll go and talk to Baby mouse. It's time to get to the bottom of this. Can you make sure we won't be disturbed?

3. Ukrainian. "I will do it. No one will bother you."

4. Russian. "You are a true perfection, [Y/N]."

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helloheyhihowdyheya · 5 months ago

Text

Pity Party | p. 2

Carmy Berzatto x gn!reader

Masterlist Part One

Summary: Carmy takes you home, but you find yourself not ready to go yet

Word Count: ~3k

Warnings: Swearing, kissing, some mushiness, fluff, possibly incorrect info about cars

A/n: hi. I’m sorry for taking a million years on this. and I’m sorry it’s not longer. Thank you to anyone that read the first part and shared their interest <3 and thank you for reading this one. You all are the best

“Holy shit,” you said, food still in your mouth and hand wrapped around the taco. Your wide eyes glanced up to Carmy’s.

“Right?” He swallowed down his bite before grinning, his head bobbing up and down in an approving nod.

You’d replaced the claustrophobic party with a small taqueria that, despite the occasional yelling between the front person and cooks, was much more peaceful. It had too few people in it for how good the food tasted, but you wouldn’t complain about the lack of noise or drunken singing.

“All the dishes were created by Rosa. She owned this food truck back when I was a kid — way before she could open up this place. If you come back–”

“When I come back,” you corrected.

“When you come back,” he said with a grin, “Their shredded beef is top shit. She spends hours getting it just right. Or the nachos. Even their fucking nachos are insane.”

You laughed, suddenly wishing you’d ordered nachos — maybe if you had more time here. As you ate, you listened to Carmy continue telling you about the restaurant and Rosa and how the tastes come together just right. You didn’t think you’d ever thought that hard about food before, but you just listened to him explain.

Well, mostly. Sometimes you watched his eyes light up as he spoke. Or you focused on the smooth way his mouth formed around the words.

“Sorry, this can get annoying,” he said after a minute of explaining the flavor profile of the tres leches cake a past restaurant he’d worked at had, and how it was a twist on Rosa’s tres leches cake he’d had as a kid.

But you shook your head, your expression dropping into a frown at his sudden cynicism. “No, no. Keep going,” you offered, hoping your tone sounded as sincere as you felt. “It’s fascinating stuff. Does Rosa know that she inspired you?”

You kept asking him questions. Most of it was to feed your interest, but part of it was to hear him keep talking.

Taking a sip of water, you washed down the different flavors of the taco. “Thank you again for taking me here. You’re a two-time lifesaver now,” you said with a tired but grateful laugh. Your eyes glanced down to your phone, seeing that Richie gave a thumbs up to your message saying you got a ride home from Carmy.

“Course. And thanks again for paying,” he said with an almost incredulous laugh. “Though I still can’t believe you paid the guy before I could see what you were doing.”

You nodded, happily chewing. It was the least you could do since he saved your night from complete disaster. “You can grab food the next time you drive me home from a party while I’m covered in beer.”

“Christ, I hope that doesn’t happen again for your sake.” He wiped his hands on a napkin, balling it up onto his plate. He gestured a finger toward you, saying, “The guy that spilled on you sounded like a total douche.”

A smile broke out across your face as you swallowed down a bite. “He was. He had the ugliest polo and cargo short combo I’ve ever seen doing the grossest hip thrusts I’ve ever seen with a full cup. And that wasn’t even the worst part!” You couldn’t contain the giggles popping up through your words now. “I looked back at him while walking away — from the most half-assed apology I’d ever heard — and saw his toe shoes… The fucker was wearing toe shoes!”

Carmy almost spit out his water, choking on it as you spoke. When he finally recovered, he shook his head, saying, “Nah, you’re fucking with me. There’s no way.” His grin went wide as he laughed harder.

“No, I’m 100% serious. I nearly ran into someone cause I couldn’t take my eyes off of them — like a goddamn trainwreck or something.”

You relished in the sound of his laughter, letting it replace the image of that guy’s horrible footwear.

“Christ, that’s horrible.”

“You’re telling me,” you muttered, finishing up your food. Standing, you held out a hand for his plate. You threw away the trash, stacking the plates in a dish bin with the remnants of laughter stuck to you. By the time you came back to the table, Carmy was standing and putting his jacket back on.

He stared at you for a second, and you couldn’t read the look in his eyes. You smiled nonetheless. He just said, “Ready?”

“Yes,” you breathed out. It didn’t feel as cold walking to the van this time with a full stomach and being next to Carmy. The tender fuzziness wrapped throughout your body didn’t wane until after a few miles of driving. On a side road meant to take you to the freeway back into the city, the car began to lurch. Your gaze slid over to Carmy as the van gradually slowed.

You found his expression sinking into a frown as he pulled off onto the shoulder. The skin of his knuckle stretched taut, his hands gripping the wheel tight. Parked, he shut the car off and tried turning it back on. Your stomach sank when a click-click-click sound hit your ears.

His fingers firmly wrapped around the car keys stuck into the ignition. He tried turning them again, which only produced that clicking sound once more. One final try, a hail mary as you held your breath, as he tried again. But you let out a half sigh when the engine kept turning over.

He slumped back into his seat, his hand dropping from the keys to lie beside his leg. “Fuck…” he breathed out, wiping the other hand across his forehead and along his hairline.

You opened your mouth, hoping to say something helpful, but nothing worked its way past the worry lining your throat. So you pressed your lips back together. You just nodded when he told you, “Let me see if I can look under the hood,” and made his way to the front of the van. Your eyes flitted between looking at the way his face wrinkled as he felt for the hood release and your fingers picking at your nails.

Flickers of the flashlight from Carmy’s phone passed from either side of the popped hood. A few minutes later, your eyebrows rose expectantly at him as soon as he came back. “What’s the prognosis?” you asked.

He sighed while closing the door, glancing to you. “It’s been a while since I’ve worked on cars, but there’s definitely a leak. With how hot it felt under there, I’d guess it’s the coolant.”

You breathed out, your eyebrows sinking into a disappointed frown. “So a tow truck it is.”

“Yeah…” he said, “I’m sorry, let me- I’ll order you a ride.” His words sounded defeated as he fished out his phone from his jean pocket.

“Oh, you don’t…” The words slipped past your lips before you could register what you were saying — before you could recognize the sharp feelings in your chest that sparked the words. Carmy turned to look at you, his attention fixed on the end of your sentence. Beneath his stare, you found it hard to think much beyond how much you weren’t ready for the night to end.

Clearing your throat, you slowly said, “You don’t have to do that. I could, um, wait with you.” With your heart beating against your ribs, you added, “I mean, if you wouldn’t mind me sticking around.”

His finger paused, hovering over his phone screen. After a beat, the corner of his mouth lifted into a hesitant smile. “Uh, no. ‘f course not,” he said. “But it could be awhile before a truck gets here.”

Smiling, you shrugged. “Okay.”

And you watched him nod as a bigger smile spread across his face, like sunshine sneaking through the crack of a door. Your gaze flitted around the van’s interior and the dark side of the road while he called the towing company. But your attention was back on him when he hung up.

A small sigh accompanied his words. “They said it could be an hour. Maybe more.”

“Okay, well,” you started but paused, feeling warm all over. You hadn’t quite thought this far ahead. And now, in the soft silence of the van, his attention sat entirely on you. Quickly, you glanced into the back of the van, eyeing all of the boxes that sat there. With a slight grin, you continued, “Well now that we have some time to kill, I have to ask what’s all back here.”

Carmy shifted, looking to the back as well. “God, sorry about the mess. Most of it’s just supplies for The Beef… And Richie’s stupid fucking shirts for the restaurant.”

Your eyebrows raised. “Well shirts aren’t so bad. They can be good advertising for–”

“They say ‘The Original Berf.’”

“Oh.” You let out a small laugh, which grew with each breath because of course they said that. The way Carmy shook his head only furthered your giggling. Eventually, once your laughter died down, you eyed the back again. “How many shirts are in there?”

He looked back again, reaching a hand back to flip up the top of a box behind your seat. “Uh, maybe 20? Why?”

Pursing your lips, you asked, “Do you think there’s a shirt my size in there?” And at Carmy’s laugh, your mouth pulled into a smile.

“Let me see…”

He stretched toward the back, his hand gripping the side of your seat. With his body just a few inches away, waves of warmth rolled off of him. Your eyes couldn’t help trailing the curls of his hair or the dips and wrinkles of his sweater around his body.

When the rustling stopped, and your gaze elsewhere, he finally pulled back with a dark navy shirt in his hands. “Here you go.”

Giving a quiet, “Thank you,” you unfolded the shirt and held it up. It looked to be about your size, so you began unbuckling your seatbelt. “Um, could you– I mean, do you mind?” you asked, holding the shirt close to you, unsure of how to ask him to give you privacy in the car.

Thankfully, he got the message and turned the other way. “Yeah, yeah. Just, uh, let me know if it doesn’t fit.”

Hesitantly, your fingers wrapped around the hem of your shirt. You briefly relished in the feeling of finally taking off your beer-stained shirt, enjoying the air from the car’s vents against your skin. You pulled down the new shirt and said, “Okay, you’re good to look.”

You shifted it this way and that until it felt right. As you looked down and read that it did indeed read “The Original Berf,” another laugh slipped from your mouth.

You looked at Carmy as he said, “Richie calls it a collector’s item.”

“Of course he does,” you muttered with a grin. The feeling of a dry, smell-free shirt had you thanking him again. “This might bring you up to saving me three times tonight.” You turned to look at him, the left side of your body resting against the back of your seat. Your head tilted, leaning into the headrest.

“Well, you’re spending tonight waiting for a tow truck with me, so I’d say we’re about even.”

You let out a quiet hum, pursing your lips. “If we’re even… then could I ask you a favor?”

He was now turned toward you, his head tilted the same way. His hands sat in his lap, his fingers fidgeting every couple of seconds. Yet his expression looked almost calm as he said, “Yeah, anything.”

–

So there you both were, lying on the hood of his van looking up at the stars. With a sturdy enough box to use as a step and a thermal blanket beneath your bodies, you and Carmy set up a place to stargaze side by side. The night air and moonlight kissed your skin as you raised a hand, pointing out another constellation.

The occasional car passed by. A soft siren echoed in the distance. But sitting far enough away from the city, you could hear as the frogs and crickets sang their songs in the grasses nearby. You couldn’t help but think they sounded nice beneath the rumble of Carmy’s voice as he spoke.

“My family didn’t take road trips or anything like that, but uh, my brother took me west one night — when we were young. Honestly, I think he was just pissed at our family and wanted to get out,” he explained with his hands clasped together over his stomach. His chest rose and fell while his gaze stayed fixed on the Hercules constellation above. “But he drove the two of us out of the city and woke me up after. And it was just some field. I was so mad that he dragged me all the way out to a cornfield in the middle of the night.” He shook his head and let out a soft laugh, one filled with a sort of fondness, as if the memory played before his eyes.

“He told me to shut the fuck up and look at the stars. So we sat there on the hood of our mom’s piece of shit car, and he told me about the constellations.” He paused, a soft smile playing on his lips. “But he didn’t know shit about constellations. He made it all up. I started to catch on when he pointed out the little dipper for the third time.”

A smile of your own spread across your face. You turned your head to look at him better, to watch the creases wrinkle around his eyes. “That sounds really nice,” you whispered. “To get out and escape once and awhile.”

“Yeah. It is…” Like now. The words seemed to dance between the two of you.

“Can you point out the little dipper to me?” you asked. “We wouldn’t want all his hard work teaching to go to waste.”

With a laugh, Carmy nodded and looked back to the sky. His hand raised, pointing to stars off to the right. “You see those four stars there that make a rectangle? That’s the cup. And those three,” he said, tracing his finger up in a curve, “make the handle.”

You nodded along. “I’m surprised you didn’t do much stargazing in your fabulous Copenhagen days,” you teased.

A groan left his mouth. “Cooking in Copenhagen leaves you no time for stargazing.”

“Sounds like cooking in Chicago leaves you without any time, either,” you whispered, watching as his hand dropped back down, his eyes locking onto yours.

He didn’t say anything at first, and an icy uncertainty began to creep up your spine. He turned his body onto his side to face it. “It leaves time for some things,” he said, melting away the worry and replacing it with burning hope. You turned toward him, too.

“Like what?” you breathed out, letting your fingers inch closer to his in the space between you. With him so close, you became acutely aware of everything around you. The bumps of the hood beneath you, the crinkle of the blanket with each movement, the intensity in the way he listened to your every word.

His gaze skipped around your face as he said, “Like a first date.”

You raised your eyebrows, turning your nose at him. “We just had our first date. Doesn’t a private dinner and stargazing sound romantic to you?” you asked. But you could only tease for so long, could only keep the sincerity at arm’s length until you were weak to it.

“Let me take you out for real,” he answered, grinning at you. His eyes continued to glance down to your lips. You felt your heartbeat in your ears. You barely ignore the uneasy excitement building in your chest. “Let me kiss you.”

Brief moments passed like hours before you nodded, before his hand brushed along your jaw and cupped your face. In an instant, your eyes shut as his mouth pressed to yours — like they were made to fit together. Your body molded to his, your muscles melting at his touch. Your fingers gripped his shirt, then his hair when it wasn’t enough. An almost desperate groan came from the back of his throat when you broke away to breathe.

He kept kissing you, only letting you get small gasps of air here and there. And the comforting feel of him nearly felt more important than breathing anyway. It left you in a dizzying addiction to his touch.

His nose nudged against yours with each kiss, his hold on you solid and unmoving. You didn’t know how much time had passed there in his embrace before lights hit your eyelids. Slowly, the sound of a car approaching reached your ears, making you pull away from Carmy.

A truck came closer as you sat up, your body already missing the warmth of Carmy. The lights on top of the truck told you it was here to tow the van. Looking back at Carmy, you watched as he adjusted his shirt and hair before hopping off the hood. You took his hand to get down yourself, smiling as he squeezed your hand.

He left your side to speak with the tow truck driver, but his eyes never left you for long. The butterflies in your stomach never left either, not with the soft way he looked at you.

The journey home passed in a blur, the tired goodbye and quick kiss as you parted ways. Not even Richie, who arrived home next door at the same time as you and immediately noticed your changed shirt, could dull the smile on your face. Though when he asked how your night with Carmy was and obnoxiously wiggled his eyebrows, he came close.

You merely muttered, “Shut up,” before closing your door on him. And finally back in your apartment, you could shower and change — relishing in the clean and dry feeling. Even the sharpness of the vinegar you poured into a bowl was a relief. Diluting it with water per Carmy’s instructions, you mixed it together before dipping your shirt in.

And you thought of him the entire time, unable to keep a smile off your face as you washed off your shirt to find it stain-free

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #Carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto fic #the bear #the bear fx

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adrienneleclerc · 8 months ago

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Hello! I don't know if you accept requests but Henry eating for the first time esquites/chaskas/elote in a glass, whatever they tell him in your country because in mine they are called chaskas 😭😭

In Mexico, it’s esquites if it’s in a cup and of course elote if it’s on the cob. I do accept requests! Helps with la falta de imaginación

Something New

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Henry meets Y/N’s parents for the first time and tries traditional Mexican food.

Warning: no translated Spanish, spelling and grammatical errors,

A/N: Im gonna input my childhood, obviously.

Y/N was making lunch her and Henry when she got a phone call.

“Bueno?” Y/N asked, adding pasta into the boiling water.

“Hola hija! Cómo estás?” Her mom asked on the other line. Y/N walks away from the stove.

“Mami, estoy bien, y tú? Por qué me estás llamando?” Y/N asked, walking to the living room and swatted Henry’s shoulder, he looked back confused.

“Estoy bien, hija, gracias por preguntar.” Y/N put her mom on speaker. “Como pascua es este domingo, quiero que vengas con tu noviecito, han estado saliendo por un rato y no le hemos conocido ni nada.” Y/N’s mom said and Y/N’s eyes widened, now Henry was concerned, he might not know a lot of Spanish, but he could tell by his girlfriend’s face, this wasn’t the best news.

“Si mami, claro que voy con mi novio, de verdad quiero que se conozcan.” Y/N said.

“Que bueno, Los veo mañana, chao.” Her mom hung up and Y/N facepalmed her forehead.

“I understood about 20% of that, what’s going on?” Henry asked.

“Fortachón, you’ve got your wish, You’re meeting my parents tomorrow.” Y/N said and Henry’s eyes look,Ike they’re going to pop out of his head.

“Tomorrow? I am not prepared!” Henry exclaimed.

“Well tomorrow is Easter and my mom wants to meet you so…yeah. Knowing her, we’ll have a lot of tias and tíos, some primos already have kids so get ready for Superman questions, fortachón.” Y/N said, patting his shoulder before going back to the kitchen.

Now it was Easter, Henry and Y/N were at her mom’s door, Henry carrying the Mexican rice Y/N made. Y/N rang the doorbell again, the door opened and she was greeted by her cousin Ignacio.

“Nacho! Cómo estás?” Y/N hugged her cousin and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Estoy bien prima, Miguelito esta jugando allá fuera. Pásale, pásale, nice to meet you Henry.” Nacho said, shaking Henry’s free hand, leading them through the house and into the backyard. “Put the rice on the table, mi papá ya está preparando los elotes.”

“Ooh, i haven’t had elotes in a while.” Y/N said.

“What’s elote?” Henry asked.

“You haven’t been making Your gringo any Mexican food? What kind of girlfriend are you?” Nacho said and Y/N swatted his arm.

“I make him Mexican food…he likes tacos, bistec empanado con sopita, quesadillas de papa.” Y/N said.

“Don’t worry, hermano, You’re going to eat really well here.” Nacho puts his arm around Henry’s shoulder as best as he could since Henry is obviously taller than him. Y/N says hello to everyone, introducing them to Henry.

“Okay, primer elote está listo, quien lo quiere?” Nacho’s dad, Hernando, asked. Nacho quickly got up for the elote.

“Okay so elote is corn topped with mayonnaise, cheese, and chili power. It’s really good (I haven’t eaten in, I don’t like corn), you’ll like it.” Y/N said. Henry was sat at the table while Y/N made him a plate of food. “I served you sopes which is tortilla topped with refried black beans, queso cotija, and lettuce because the salas is probably too spicy for you, your elote, a tostado which is the same as a sope but it’s a crunchy tortilla, and tostadas de pulpo because they’re my favorite.”

Henry looked at the plate in front of him. “This is a lot of food, love.”

“Yes but think of it this way, if you don’t like it, I’ll eat it, and very happily too.” Y/N said, kissing him. Henry took a bite of the octopus tostada.

“This is really good.” Henry finished that tostada, moved on to the regular tostada, then the sope, adding a bit of salsa. Then to the elote, best for last. He took a bite, some corn falling off the cob, mayonnaise on the corner of his mouth along with pieces of queso cotija and chili powder. “I think elotes might be my favorite, it’s delicious, muchas gracias, Hernando.”

“No es nada, güerito.” Hernando said, making another 2 elotes for Henry to eat.

“I take it this means I have to make more Mexican food in the house?” Y/N asks.

“Oh absolutely, I’m going to have to work out even more to burn off these calories.” Henry said, kissing Y/N with his mouth tasting like elote.

The End

I know it’s short but I hope you like it! Feel free to request more ideas

Taglist: @warriormirkwood

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill #henry cavil x y/n #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfiction #mexican

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beefrobeefcal · 8 months ago

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The Clean Plates Club feat. Joel Miller x f!reader

a HeftyThrowaway one shot drabble | Rated: G | word count: 406 warnings: weight gain, stuffed belly, teasing A/N: thanks be to Nonnie who submitted the prompt. And thank you to @strang3lov3 for the idea for this series. thank you to: @xdaddysprincessxx, @rebel-held, @romanarose, @umnitsa for their help in crafting the nachos.

Delicious regards,

Beefro👌🥩💜

Joel was in heaven, though anyone would be hard pressed to get it out of him. You were in the kitchen, cooking up a storm and he was going to be the lucky sunovabitch who would reap the benefits.

At least his heart was feeling lucky. The trial runs you ran through each weekend leading up to a major catering event made his heart sing, but his waistline, belts and clothing were saying otherwise. Between the regular meals you cooked and all the ‘tasting’ he was doing almost every Saturday and Sunday, each Monday he’d lumber into the office and his brother would made another remark about his weight or gut or a subtle comment on how his clothes fit; sometimes Tommy would even go so far as to poke the butt end of a pencil or pen into the added bulk of his middle and laugh.

Joel would play ignorant to his thickening form and ignore Tommy telling him he must be in love because he’s getting soft in more ways than one. He wanted to slap the smug grin off his brother’s face, but he knew Tommy was right – he was getting fat off your love.

On this Saturday, you’d prepped for a Tex-Mex menu and once Joel had eaten his weight in tacos, he sat back in his chair and huffed, unbuckling his belt. As he did, he made a note that he needed a new one now that he was on the last hole – the one he had added to lengthen its life with him. Just as he was unbuttoning his jeans and letting his stuffed belly out with a groan, you walked into the dining room with another platter of nachos, loaded with beef, queso, lettuce, jalapeño, pico… the tray in your hands looked and smelled so good, making his mouth water. It almost made him forget how full he was.

“You look fit to be tied there, Miller.”, you smiled as you placed the nachos in front of him. You smoothed your hand over his very full middle. “You sure you’re up for this, baby?”

Joel huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Don’t matter. I was raised in the Clean Plates Club… I got a job to do.”

By the time he was done, Joel’s plate was indeed clean, and he sat back in the chair slightly out of breath, button up shirt ruined, and feeling pretty damn accomplished.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal tummy #you ask beefro answers #thot tank #hefty hefty hefty #joel miller #chubby!joel miller #🥩

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darlingshane · 2 years ago

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fiesta in your mouth

Shane Walsh x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 2k

Summary: – @anna-hawk requested: I would love a sexy drabble with Reader being hungry... for food. The food is taking forever to arrive and they start bickering about Reader's impatience. It ends with Reader biting Shane's ass cause, well, HUNGRY. Except hungry for more now 😏.

Content/Warnings: explicit, smut, oral sex, food, eating, playful banter, crack, some fluff.

-- Read below or at AO3.

It's another lazy night, hanging out at your boyfriend's, waiting for the food to arrive. And as per usual, your stomach starts protesting impatiently after an hour of just sitting around, watching TV.

It's always the same when you leave Shane in charge of either cooking or ordering. He's not a bad cook, he just doesn't have the time, or he's too tired after work to do so. And when it comes to ordering via app, he's not very tech-savvy and often screws up the order.

“Ugh, when it’s the food coming?” you complain, lolling your head back against the edge of the couch to watch Shane coming out of the hallway half-naked with just a pair of black sweats hanging low on his hips after taking a shower.

“Why are you always so hungry?”

“Why are you not?” You whine, “you said we were eating an hour ago.”

“Don’t be such a brat. Food will be here soon,” your boyfriend states, plopping down on the couch next to you with his knees widely apart.

His curls slightly drip water on his bare shoulders while he flips channels on the TV, and you reach to swipe them with your fingers.

“Are you sure you ordered and paid right?”

“'Course, I’m sure. Stop being a pest. You should’ve eaten something before getting here.”

“You said you were cooking, I was saving myself for you.”

“You mean your virginity? I think that ship sailed a long time ago, sweetheart,” he quips, pinching the side of your hip, and you swat the back of your hand against his bicep.

“What did you order anyway?” You wonder.

“Mexican. I got all your favorites… arroz con pollo, crunchy tacos, nachos, enchiladas… A whole fiesta for your mouth. Better than my cooking, right?” He then reaches for his phone to check the Postmates app. “Look, it’ll be here in half an hour.”

“Another half hour?”

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t have time to cook like I said,” his mouth draws a playful smirk, “but if you were that hungry, you’d have lifted that sweet ass off the couch a long time ago, and made dinner yourself like women are supposed to do. But lil miss grumpy pants here doesn't like cooking, doesn't she?”

“I could punch you for even joking about that, asshole.”

“I'd love to see you try.”

“Is that a dare?”

“C'mon, let's see what you got,” he grins, and stands up, tugging the waistband of his sweatpants higher.

Then, he pushes the coffee table towards the TV console to have some more space, and holds his palms up, inviting you to spar amicably.

You stand in front of him, wiggling your fingers before closing both hands into fists. You start punching either of his palms alternately while he taunts you about how weak your blows are, mocking your flimsy arms, and terrible posture. You double down and hit harder until your knuckles start hurting, while he relentlessly jeers at you.

Getting all worked up, you decide to go for his face instead, but your hook is keenly intercepted before landing.

Shane quickly pins your wrists at your back afterwards, and your boxing session turns into wrestling. You escape his hold several times, but then you end up pinned down on the floor in the most awkward position with your body held and twisted around him in a way that your face is facing his ass while he struggles to keep you like that.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna give up, sweetheart?” he drawls, half panting.

“Never,” you laugh and manage to get one of your hands free to pull his sweats down and uncover his stinking cute booty. Without warning, you take a big bite at the curve of his hips, firmly marking your teeth on his ass.

“The hell are you doing?”

“Told you I was hungry. I needed a nibble of those delicious buns,” you bite his butt again, pressing harder, until he releases you.

“You’re a savage,” he grumbles, as you unclench your teeth to see that bright, pink love bite you’ve stamped on his white ass.

“If you forfeit, I win!” you exclaim in victory, rolling on the floor to have your back against the rug, and pushing both your arms up.

“I don’t think so,” his tongue swipes his lips before having him on top of you again.

He pulls your arms down and straddles your chest, placing his crotch awfully close to your face.

“Let's see how hungry you really are,” his lips curve up lewdly, as he pushes his sweats and boxer briefs down, showing his limp cock.

You lick your lips in anticipation, watching him pumping himself a couple of times until he’s half hard.

Then, he playfully taps the bulbous tip of his length against your lips, purring, “want some of this, darlin'?”

You eagerly nod.

“Okay, show me your tongue, and I'll feed you.”

Doing as he says, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out.

With a fist curled around the underside of his cock, he places it on the wet surface of your tongue and strokes back and forth until his semi erection blooms into rock-hard perfection with a bittersweet wet dripping that comes out of his slit.

“Now close your lips and have at it.”

Letting him guide-boss you like this is one of your biggest turn-ons, and you can already feel the sweet arousal coiling madly in your core with just a taste of him.

Your eyes are locked with his when you wrap our mouth around his flared tip. You inhale and start bobbing our head forwards as much as this position lets you.

Starting slowly, you let your mouth take inch after inch, watching him bask in the delicious undoing of your ways. You hum and go a little faster as he braces his palms on the floor over your head.

“Keep going, darlin’,” he grunts between praises and curses, losing his breath the harder you go, “I’m almost… fuck yeah, just like that, sweetheart.”

The pace of your mouth picks up, sucking him dry, and moaning against his steel-erection throbbing against your tongue. It drives him wild. You can feel it in the way he erratically starts thrusting into your mouth at the same time with nothing but desperation pressing in his center.

“You wanted me to fill your dirty mouth exactly like this, huh?” he grunts coarsely, and you can barely nod, as his cock starts twitching a second before having his seed spilled at the back of your throat.

He comes with a loud strangled moan and after every drop is out he takes his cock away, and places a palm over your mouth.

“Sh, sh, sh. Don’t spill it, baby,” he grins at you, half panting, “I wanna see you swallow.”

Your lips quirk up beneath his palm before gulping every drop of his sticky essence down your throat. You then open your mouth and show him.

“Good girl,” he exhales, lying on top of you as he comes down from his high, “who’s the winner now?”

“You are, baby,” you chuckle, running your palms up and down his back as he presses himself between your legs. He’s not as hard, but you can still feel it behind the fabric of your leggings.

“Are you still hungry, sweetheart?”

“Hmm, a little. You promised a fiesta for my mouth and that was just a… a bitter spoon of yogurt past its expiration date at best.”

He snorts at your words, “say what you will, but I bet that made you wet.”

Pressing your teeth on your bottom lip, you give him a quick nod.

“Yeah? Do you want me to take care of that?”

“What do you think?”

“That you’re greedy as fuck, baby,” he laughs.

“Not as much as you are.”

“Yeah, probably not,” he accepts and draws in some air before sliding down your body, taking your clothes off, so he can give you the same release.

He buries his face between your legs and just as his tongue starts teasing your folds, the door buzzer goes off at the worst possible moment.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” you utter in frustration.

“Tough luck, sweetheart,” he pulls his head back, amused, glancing at you, “looks like we’re going to have to postpone this.”

“Ugh,” you let out as he pulls himself up, yanking his underwear and sweats on, to answer the door.

“Hey, don’t complain, the food is here. Isn’t that what you wanted?” he chuckles and buzzes the delivery guy in.

“I guess,” you mumble, hot and bothered, as you slip into your shirt, and take a seat on the couch, covering your kegs with the throw before Shane opens the door.

After collecting the food, he places the containers from your favorite Mexican restaurant on the coffee table, and drags it back to its former position near the couch.

You pick a random unlabeled container, open it, and instantly forget about the interruption after finding out he ordered churros.

Glancing at you as he pulls the lid off another, Shane catches you smiling while sinking your teeth into one.

“Those are for dessert.”

“Says who? I gotta get the taste of your churro out of my mouth somehow. This will do.”

“Well,” he licks his lips and yanks the blanket off you to uncover your legs, “if you’re gonna have dessert first, I should too.”

“Yeah, have at it,” you chuckle as he kneels on the floor, pushing your knees apart, and dragging your ass closer to the edge of the couch.

You take another bite of your churro and put it aside as he props your thighs over his shoulders.

He gazes at you one more time before diving into your pussy. The eager tip of his tongue slowly traces the shape of your lips, teases at your entrance, and every spot he can find to drive you out of your mind, avoiding your clit altogether.

Your fingers slide into his half-dried curls as he circles around it, barely grazing the peak of that swollen bud that’s aching for more significant stimulation. Filled with anticipation, your grip anxiously pulls at his hair as he takes his sweet time, savoring every inch of you.

His lips curve up against your folds, and you exhale, letting his name fall from your lips when he finally latches around your impatient clit.

Letting your head fall backwards, you close your eyes and drink in the mind-numbing sucking of his lips, taking you up to cloud nine with practice ease. One of his hands slips under your shirt to grab your breast while the other keeps a firm grip around your thigh with his fingers pressed on your mound.

Your body lights up with every lick and hum served in all the right places as he works you up to the highest level. He channels that electric jolt of your body to press a little harder until you fall completely apart at the mercy of his lips.

He pulls his head back, gently soothing his palms on your thighs while you slowly come down from your high. It takes you a moment to open your eyes, and when you do you see him using his fingers to clean the edges of his mouth covered in you.

“Welcome back, baby.”

Speechless, you simply smile at him as a response, as your breathing evens out.

“That good, huh?” he utters with his usual smugness, as if he didn't already know how to make you lose your mind like that.

He then rises from his knees and sits up, pulling you into his lap, linking his arms around your waist as you hug his neck.

“You taste sweeter than honey,” he whispers against your shoulder.

You let out a small laugh and pull back, so you can look at his eyes.

“Love leaving you without words, sweetheart,” he sweetly smiles, and you sigh, delighted, before capturing his lips.

#jon bernthal #shane walsh #shane walsh x reader #twd fanfiction #twd #the walking dead #shane walsh fanfiction #jon bernthal smut #darlingwrites

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silverstonesainz-archive · 2 years ago

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gonna spam u, hope ur ready x

“this sounds like you’re flirting with me.” “...i have been trying to do that for three years now.” + daniel ricciardo

brainrotting over daniel in that green suit. pls.

nacho fries (dr3) ─── confessions in the back corner of a taco bell

daniel sits across you in the corner of the taco bell, the two more buttons of his white button up undone and showing off his chest. his emerald jacket hangs on your shoulders, keeping you warm. a half eaten taco, with most of it’s filling on the tray, sits between daniel’s slender fingers, the boy not even caring that his taco was basically empty. you munch on nacho fries, watching amused as he finishes the last of the hard shell.

“that was so good.” he gushes, licking his fingers.

“daniel, seventy-five percent of your taco is on the tray…. what exactly did you enjoy?”

he picks at your fries, popping one in his mouth and chucking the other at you. you giggle, picking up the fry on your lap and throwing it back. the taco bell is empty, only a few patrons coming and walking out. the soft hum of crap new york radio plays in the background, can’t take my eyes off of you buzzing in between the static. daniel takes another one of your fries, and swat his hand away.

“thanks for coming with me,” he says between bites, “i really didn’t wanna do all this on my own.”

“you’re never really alone daniel, when you really think about it.”

“no i know, but i mean with people i like.”

he says it so nonchalantly, says it as he takes another one of your fries. daniel stop, you say. you can feel your heart do flips beneath your chest, the butterflies erupting in your stomach. you hold back a smile, hiding behind another bite of fries.

“well, you’re welcome. i love traveling, especially with you.”

he doesn’t flinch, he just smiles over at you, like what you said was the most natural thing in the world. “sounds like you’re flirting with me, doll.”

he’s teasing you, seemingly unknowing that you were. you feel your cheeks turn red, you can hear your heart in your head.

“well… i have been trying to do that for three years now.”

his hand stops mid way to take another fry. you see it, the way his cheeks begin to turn pink underneath his tan, the way his lips are parted but the words are caught in his throat. but there’s an unmistakable curve to his lips, a positive reaction to your words. you pick at a fry, reaching over to place it between his teeth. he bites down with a smile, pulling it from your grip.

there aren’t any words exchanged after that. just his hand on yours across the table, his thumb stroking the back of your hand while he finishes the rest of your fries. and you let him.

#tea & toast w dani #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #dr3 drabble

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dannystattoo · 1 year ago

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august

chapter 1 - "i can see us lost in the memory"

you didn't plan on spending your summer fixing up your family's old cabin, but you also didn't plan on reconnecting with your childhood crush for the summer. based on august by taylor swift

Pairing: Danny Wagner x fem reader

Warnings: Some language, but that's about it

Spending the summer after your senior year of college helping maintain your grandparents’ cabin was not what you’d anticipated upon graduating. While you wouldn’t say you were ready to tackle job hunting just yet, you would have preferred to have at least been able to stay in the college town with all of your friends for a couple more months. You’d have loved to at least have a last hurrah before you all inevitably moved on to whatever was next. Life had a way of happening though. Your grandfather passed away in the winter and a lot had changed. Your grandma wasn’t able to live on her own, so she had moved in with your family for the time being. Your parents were also trying to figure out what to do with the cabin your grandparents had purchased decades ago. It was your grandpa’s pride and joy, and he would never let anyone sell it even if he’d barely been able to use it in the last few years. The rest of your family, grandma included, couldn’t care less about keeping the property in the family, Since you and your siblings all moved out of the house and didn’t have the opportunity to visit much anymore, they decided it was best to sell the house. However, it needed a lot of TLC before it could go on the market and you’d gotten roped into spending your summer taking care of the property. You cursed yourself for learning so many DIY skills in college when your friends had insisted on renting the shittiest house possible your sophomore year, as well as for being the golden child who couldn’t draw boundaries with your parents no matter how hard you tried.

…and that was how you found yourself looking around this house, wondering how the hell you were going to have it ready to list by August, in three months. Your dad offered to come up and help when he could on weekends and you did have a list of contractors your grandparents had previously used who could help with the things you weren’t able to do, but you were mostly on your own. You tried to remind yourself that his would give you the opportunity to save up some money since you weren’t paying rent and your family would be paying you for your work on the house. This would also give you time to polish your resume and work on perfecting your design portfolio, hopefully allowing you to move somewhere better than the sleepy midwest town you grew up in or the slightly less sleepy city you went to college in. Your ultimate goal was New York City, but you were aiming for Chicago right now. All things considered, though, the thought of a summer spent more or less by yourself doing a stupid amount of manual labor made the thought of living in the city in cramped apartment with multiple roommates and eating ramen for every meal sound appealing.

It had probably been about five years since you’d spent any sizable amount of time here, and that was around the same time your family started doing the bare minimum maintenance on the place. They’d also done the bare minimum when it came to cleaning, so you spent the entire morning making one of the bedrooms and one of the bathrooms clean and comfortable enough to get you through the first few days. Once you finished that, you started trying to make a game plan, but you became overwhelmed pretty quickly. Realizing it was nearing one in the afternoon, you decided to drive into town, pick up some fast food and take a break. You weren’t able to find much, but there was a Taco Bell within a reasonable driving distance. You returned home with your Nachos Bell Grande and a massive Baja Blast, hoping that would push you to have a productive evening. It was a beautiful day out, so you took you lunch out to the dock. The gate that led down to the water’s edge was a bit rusted and hard to open, but once you got it, you remembered why you loved coming here so much as a kid. Admittedly, once you looked past the state of the house and the yard, it was gorgeous out here. You were steps away from the lake, which had a tiny private sandy beach at its edge. Trees and plants in full bloom surrounded the lake, and you always loved the glow of the sun off the water. You told yourself that if you got through a clearing the clutter in the rooms you, your siblings, and cousins had shared as kids that day, you’d reward yourself with a glass of wine and a night spent on the patio with your designs. The change in scenery was inspiring you in a way you hadn’t expected. Looking at the nearby houses, you tried to remember all the kids you’d met here over the years. They were all fleeting friendships, lasting for only one week in the summer over the 4th of July and picking up the next year, depending on who returned and when. You’d met these kids well before social media, and you had no idea what happened to any of them after losing contact. You start thinking about them, wondering where life had taken everyone after those golden summers.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice that someone had appeared from the cabin next-door and they were walking down towards the water.

“I had no idea they sold this place,” the voice said as it came up behind you. Startled, you turned around to see a man approaching you. He looked like he was about your age, maybe slightly older. You could tell from his tan skin he probably spent a lot of time outside, giving the impression of someone else who might be spending the summer here. Based on appearances alone, that was something you could get on board with. You couldn’t overlook the fact he was gorgeous - you were immediately drawn to his intense eyes and radiant smile, and the fact his was absolutely ripped didn’t hurt matters.

“Because they didn’t,” you laughed. “Granted, it’s barely been used in at least five years, but yeah, haven’t sold yet.”

“Well that’s good, I always like the people who lived here.”

“You knew them?” you were taken by surprise.

“Oh yeah, my family owns the place next door. I’m Danny, by the way.”

“Y/N,” you said. The longer you looked at him, you began to think he looked vaguely familiar. “This is gonna sound weird, but we’ve met before haven’t we?”

“You have two older sisters and your family was always here the week of the 4th of July, right?”

“Yeah. You have a younger sister and you were also always here for the 4th of July?” As Dnny confirmed this, it all came flooding back to you.

He was part of the group of about a dozen of you who lived on this street that you’d just been thinking about. He was, in fact, a few years older than you, but you seemed to remember his younger sister was around your age. You also remembered you’d had a hugely embarrassing crush on Danny that resurfaced every year. God, you’d forgotten about him completely, as it had been ten years since you’d seen him, more since you’d seen him with any sort of regularity at the cabin. You remembered it all with clarity now.

He was three years older than you, and by the time you were eleven and he was fourteen, he started hanging out with the group less and less. Fair enough, he was a teenager, but it didn’t hurt any less. You’d always thought he was cute and he was the only boy in the group who was always nice to you. Looking back, he treated you like a little sister, but you didn’t see it that way then. You remembered the summer you were twelve and he was fifteen when he and another one of the older girls in the group stopped hanging out with you as frequently, only showing up at events where the entire family was present. You’d been devastated when you’d accidentally stumbled upon them making out in her room at a barbecue you’d all been at. By the next summer, you were convinced that because you were thirteen and a full fledged teenager, he’d finally be interested in you. Much to your dismay, he hadn’t even come up north that year, opting to stay home in order to spend more with his friends instead. It was only a couple more years before you stopped spending long stints there in the summer. You realized how much you’d forgotten about your time here.

“So what brings you back?” Danny’s question brought you back from your nostalgia.

“Well, my grandpa passed away over the winter -“

“Oh shit, i’m sorry.”

“Thank you. It wasn’t unexpected, but still. Anyway, my family is actually planning to sell now and I somehow got roped into coming out here for the summer to fix it up and get it ready to put on the market. You live in one shitty house that forces you to learn handy skills and they use it against your for the rest of your life,” you laughed.

“What, by yourself?”

“Not entirely, my dad is coming up to help me out when he can and we will need to hire people to do some of the more complicated projects. But yeah, mostly.” You were kicking yourself the moment you said it. Way to go, Y/N, you thought to yourself. You don’t know the first thing about this guy anymore and he could be a crazed serial killer for all you knew.

“Anyway, I could ask you the same thing,” you shifted the attention back to him.

“Honestly, I don’t know. Getting away, I guess? I’ve been so stuck with work lately and I thought a change of scenery might be good. Don’t ask why my first inclination was to come here, but it was.”

“By yourself?”

“For now. Three of my friends, more like my brothers actually, are planning to come up in a few weeks and spend most of the summer. They may be going back and forth between here and home a bit more than me though.”

“Where do you live?”

“Nashville.”

“That’s so cool, I unfortunately didn’t get to go far for college and I was so lucky to move back to my hometown in Michigan after graduation. I’m hoping to save up some money over the summer so I can start looking to move. Enough about me, what is it you do for work?” You were intrigued when he said he was “uninspired”, wondering if he did something creative too.

“Uh, musician,” he said running his hand through his dark curls. You could tell he assumed you’d react a certain way.

“No shit, that’s sick! What kind of music?”

“I’m in a rock band, drummer. I know it probably sounds kind of lame, but we’ve actually released a few single, and EP, and we just got a contract for our first full record. As exciting as all of that is, I’m having a hell of a time getting anything written to contribute to it. Decided I’d come here for a little bit first by myself, and then the guys are gonna join me in a couple weeks. I thought maybe getting out of the city would help. Plus the lease on my place was up last week and the house I’m set to move into isn’t available September 1st.”

“Well, I don’t think that’s lame at all. I’m trying to break into design, so I kind of get it.”

“Oh really, what kind?”

“My dream would be fashion, it was my main area of focus in school, but I’ve also been building by graphic design portfolio to have something more ‘practical’, as my parents would say.”

“I get that, I’m sure you can imagine my parents were just thrilled when I said I had no desire to go to college right after graduating high school.”

“Sounds like you’re doing great anyway,” you shrugged. You guys talked comfortably for quite a bit longer, catching up on the past ten years. It was nice to have found a friend so early on, at least you hoped you’d found a friend. Danny was so easy to talk to and you felt an effortless connection, even if you hadn’t seen him in a literal decade. Eventually, you picked up your phone, sitting abandoned on the table, and you didn’t like the time.

“Oh god, how is it already three? I’m so sorry, but I should probably go, I have so much work to do,”

“Honey, you have all summer,” Danny said. You wouldn’t admit that your stomach flipped when he called you that. Fuck, were you attracted to him now, still?

“You’re right, but you have no idea how much I have to do.”

“Can I help with anything? I know I didn’t come here for home renovation projects, but you could persuade me, I think.”

“I would actually really appreciate that, if only for the company. Tell you what, my main goal for the day was to start cleaning out some of the bedrooms, if you’d want to help? When we make some good progress, maybe we can grab dinner? Like I said, even if it’s just for the company and an accountability buddy.”

“I’d love that. Honestly, I’ve only been here like two days and I’m going insane in my own company. I was so hung up on the idea of taking a solitary trip to work that I forgot I’m an extrovert.” You smiled at him, grabbed your Taco Bell remains, and led him into the house.

“Not to be rude, but you weren’t kidding,” Danny said, looking around the house.

“Yeah, it’s so, so bad. We’ve hardly been up here since like, 2017, what with life and school and work, and that was around the time my grandparents weren’t able to come up here by themselves anymore. I think my parents did just enough maintenance so that the neighbors wouldn’t lose their minds.”

“Gives me an excuse to offer my services around here a lot then?”

“I think that sounds perfect,” you smiled, leading Danny to the bedroom you and your sisters shared years ago. Before you could stop yourself, you caught yourself thinking that you’d love to be taking him back to your room under much different circumstances. You couldn’t believe that you were down bad for this guy yet again, hours after seeing him for the first time in a decade.

To be continued

#danny wagner #greta van fleet #greta van fic #daniel wagner #danny gvf #sam kiszka #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #danny wagner x reader

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chilewithcarnage · 5 months ago

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those 'they really had us eating x with x at x o clock' school lunch meme tweets that were popular in like 2018-2020 were really funny cause my high school really did have us eating nachos with taco meat and cheese with chocolate milk at 11:30 in the morning

#lord my stomach bubbling #lol

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captain-kelli · 2 years ago

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It’s been awhile since I’ve gotten one of your heartfelt reviews, so I forgot how outrageously lovely they are.

Thank you for reading (despite me telling you that you didn’t have to). Thank you for your thoughtfulness. And thank you for always being an encouraging voice in my world. 💙

Hot & Cold

Title: Hot & Cold

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Type: One-Shot

Word Count: 1,741

Summary: There’s something about an old flame that keeps Bucky warm in December.

Warnings: angst-lite, language, alcohol, implied smut

A/N: Not my first piece of writing in almost a year!! Let’s see if I’ve still got it…

The windows stretched from the floor to the ceiling of Bucky’s Manhattan office, giving a view of the snow that poured down. It was the first storm of the season, early by Bucky’s judgment, and he wondered how it’d affect holiday travelers. How it’d affect you. If maybe, just maybe, you were in town.

Not that he’d know, he hadn’t spoken to you in years, but his thoughts always drifted to you when winter arrived in New York. He loved to reminisce of that time the two of you hurried through the city in the freezing cold on your way back to his apartment only to strip off every piece of clothing to fuck on the floor by the fireplace.

That memory would stay on repeat in his mind throughout December.

Even in the conference room of his office during his quarterly board meeting. While the chairman discussed profit margins and next year’s growth strategy. While the rest of his executive team demonstrated plan after plan for each of their departments. While the snow started to fall outside.

Even then. Especially then.

He remembered how the temperature of your body warmed under his own while the two of you lied next to the fire. How you whimpered softly while his lips roamed over every part of you. How you lied in his arms for hours afterward, revealing every secret you had.

It had been years and still - it was still you that he thought of in December. Dreaming of what could’ve been.

The office cleared out hours ago, but Bucky didn’t have a reason to go home. No one was waiting for him. Instead, he stayed and watched the snowstorm from his executive suite. Work had consumed everything these last few years - his time, his attention, his love. He decided then that he had earned a night off and picked up his phone.

Scrolling through a list of contacts, his thumb hovered over your name and he hesitated. Did you want to hear from him? Would you laugh it off with your friends? Show it to a new man you were with?

Fuck it, he didn’t get this far in life by playing it safe.

“You in town?” It was short, no need for appearing desperate.

He tossed the phone onto the desk and turned back to the window. He wouldn’t wait around to see if your read receipts were still on or if you started typing the minute his name came across your screen. No second-guessing the decision. He could wait. He waited this long.

Minutes went by while he watched cabs pile up behind a light and shoppers rush on the sidewalk with bags hanging on their arms. He considered just getting back to work, maybe scope out a high-level budget for the next fiscal year.

Then Bucky heard the phone vibrate on the desk.

“For the night. Flight delayed out of JFK until morning.” He noticed you kept the reply to the point, but you did reply. If there was any hope for a reunion, it was on him. Deservingly so, he supposed. He was the one that let you go.

In the beginning, the two of you were on fire, chemistry that could burn down entire worlds. And for reasons Bucky couldn’t quite remember, things turned to ice. Time passed and you found someone else, but he heard that it didn’t last.

“Let’s meet up…for old time’s sake.”

His energy rose with the anticipation of seeing you - he paced the length of his office while loosening his tie, tossed his suit jacket over an armchair, threw the phone back on the desk after checking it one too many times.

“I’m close to your office, I’ll swing by… if you’re there like I expect you to be.”

Bucky ignored the sting of your guess and called the doorman downstairs to prepare him for your arrival. While he waited, he found a bottle of scotch in a cabinet and poured two glasses, figuring it couldn’t hurt. He was back at the window when he heard the knock.

“Hey, stranger.” When he spun around, he found you leaning on the door of his office, snug in a camel coat and cashmere scarf. It nearly transported him in time, but he snapped himself out of it.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes.” Bucky kept it casual as he strode across the room to hug you and brush a kiss across your cheek. The perfume you were wearing was one he didn’t recognize, but the scent was intoxicating all the same.

“You don’t look so bad yourself. The CEO suite suits you.” You tugged at his loosened tie before strolling to the window he’s looked out all day. “Has quite the view.”

The view and the title were nothing compared to you - something he wished he would’ve realized years ago. Bucky resisted the regret and dragged the drink glasses from the table, handing one to you.

“Never really gets old,” he lied.

The two of you stood side-by-side in front of the window pane, close enough where Bucky could see the twinkle in your eyes that always came ‘round whenever it snowed. Comfortable in the silence, minutes went by before Bucky asked to take your coat.

“Oh, no. That’s okay - I can’t stay long. I’ve got to find somewhere to pull in for the night. Every hotel I’ve called has been booked solid,” you said after handing him your glass.

“Stay with me.”

It wasn’t a question.

And it wasn’t exactly a demand.

It was an obvious conclusion from a man who had grown accustomed to getting what he wanted without protest. So when you declined his offer, it was as if someone had thrown ice atop his head.

“C’mon…you said it yourself, you have nowhere to stay and we both know there aren’t going to be any more flights out tonight. Just stay with me…”

He grabbed your hand then and you quickly pulled it away. “Bucky…don’t…”

You were headed out the door and Bucky had to think fast.

“One glass of an Italian red. Your pick. And then you can go - I swear. Just one glass of red to have the conversation you know we need to have.”

Bucky’s apartment was only a few blocks from his office in the Financial District. The short walk there was a cold one. The wind whipped between the buildings and snow dampened your coat, yet you refused to reach for his arm - despite the warmth and comfort it offered. You could withstand the cold for a few minutes.

When you arrived, you were stunned by his place. The new condo was palatial compared to the old studio you remembered in Brooklyn…

The studio had brick walls and cracked ceilings while the condo was pristine and monochromatic. The studio's landlord hung up on Bucky that time the heat went out in the dead of winter while the condo’s landlord, you suspected, kissed Bucky’s ass whenever given the chance. The view out of the studio’s lone window was of the back alley’s dumpster while the condo overlooked Wall Street.

Sure, the penthouse condo was nice. You could see the allure.

But the Brooklyn studio held all of the happy memories you clung on to for dear life for so long.

And it wasn’t just the apartment. His hairstyle was different, he grew a beard, drank pretentious liquor, and even talked differently.

You never expected Bucky to be the same man you loved all those seasons ago, but you did expect to see some resemblance there. The differences had you wondering if it was a mistake to go to his place at all.

“A Tuscan blend…should’ve known this would be the one,” Bucky interrupted your thoughts when handing you the glass of wine. Your eyebrows arched at the sight of the generous pour and you made a note to take small sips.

However, the small sips turned into a second glass that was just as full. And then he opened another bottle.

Somewhere around your fourth glass, you found yourself on Bucky’s living room floor next to what could’ve been a mini Rockefeller Christmas tree with all of its lights and a fireplace he lit with a remote.

As it turned out, Bucky kept something from the life you had together - a vintage record player you gave him for his birthday with a handful of vinyls. His album collection grew in your absence, so you flipped through the new additions, noticing sentimental nods to your past together. Finding one of your shared favorites, you put it on.

“Are you ready for that talk now?” he asked.

He was lounging comfortably on the couch, looking every bit the part of a confident, patient man in love and it startled you. Among all the changes, the way he looked at you was the same.

“No, I rather feel like dancing,” was your response. And you did. You placed your empty glass on the table and stood to sway alone alongside the tree. Bucky considered you silently for a brief time before standing to take your hand. This time, you allowed him to.

The two of you quietly twirled around the living room to a lullaby written a lifetime ago. The defenses you built against the man holding you in his arms melted a little more with every note, even more so when he hummed the words.

It was then you admitted the wine was absolutely a mistake.

After the song finished, the record’s needle spun over the vinyl and you slowly backed away from Bucky. “What talk?”

At first, he hung his head as if ashamed. Then he looked up at you with hooded eyes in quiet consideration of the words he’d choose next. He finally broke the silence with, “I never stopped loving you.”

His second chance unraveled in minutes. Sobriety came fast for you both once you delivered a blunt refusal and made a swift exit. No amount of begging or clarification could have convinced you to stay.

In solitude again, this time it wasn’t his choice and he struggled to understand how that came to be.

“I’ll always love you, Bucky, just not this version of you. I’m sorry…”

He chased the money and the status and the success for a long time. What woman wouldn’t want that?

“Her,” he thought.

A chill colder than the December night’s air ran down his back at the realization.

#comment reply #nacho to my taco #bucky barnes x reader

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evita-shelby · 6 months ago

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What Happens in Vegas

Or the modern!Jack Nelson x Eva Smith(oc) prequel to What Happens in Vegas where Jack and Eva elope in Las Vegas

Chapter 1

“Is this seat taken?”

John Fitzgerald Nelson could forget his own name, but never her.

How could he when they had the best Vegas experience in his life? One moment he’s sharing a crappy hotel room with his friends, the next he’s living it up in the penthouse with a hot girl with a lot of cash to burn.

She had mentioned starting business school, just never mentioned the college. She had heard him brag about how he did the impossible to make it into Harvard and gave him a sample of the life he’d soon live.

Now she was here, looking like she came off a modeling catalogue and ready to continue what they started. Or else she’d be pretending he doesn’t exist, wouldn’t be the first time his flings ended badly.

“Saved it just for you, sweetheart.” He can’t even hide his grin as he speaks.

It started out as just sex amongst friends, they partner up for class often and by winter break Jack knows no one better to ask for Katie’s stupid destination wedding in Cozumel.

He needed someone to pretend to be his girlfriend who could survive being grilled by his mom and sisters about their fake relationship. No woman he’s been with knows him as good as the gal sitting on the passenger seat of his car wearing his old hoodie because they couldn’t find the shirt in the mess back at his place.

Eva would be perfect as his fake girlfriend. All she has to do is agree to spend the week after Christmas with him and his family where everyone will believe they have been dating for a while now.

“Katherine is trying to set me up with one of her sisters-in-law and I may have lied and said I was already seeing someone.” Jack has never been timid and yet here he was feeling a sudden shyness as he shares his predicament with Evie while they share a beer and tacos as part of their post midterm celebration. “She called my bluff and now wants me to take my nonexistent girlfriend to Cozumel or she’ll unleash her desperate bridesmaids on me.”

“Promoting me from fuck buddy to fake girlfriend, what an honor!” Evie teased wiping taco grease from the edge of her lip with the sleeve of his hoodie. “On a scale from 1 to 10 how committed are we?”

Jack has no idea why she’d agree so quickly. He knows she has family that wanted to spend time with her and has been dreading the open invitation to Mexico City this Christmas. That she’d accept a trip to Cozumel with him and his family, who barely knows her, over it is rather baffling.

Her aunt was bitchy but nice enough, adored her from what he’d seen. Her cousins were great guys too, Nacho had covered for him when Livia de Souza asked him what the nature of his relationship with her nice/adopted daughter was.

“Enough to make my family believe we’re in love and all that bullshit. Sorry for springing this up on you at the last minute.” He drinks his beer hoping to settle his fears of her backing out.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ve got nothing else to do besides avoiding my family this December.” The dark-haired beauty dismissed his apology and added, “Would make up for my abysmal birthday gift two weeks ago.”

“You shouldn’t have opened it in front of your aunt, Evie.” So, he’d gotten her a thong with the words ‘breakfast of champions’ that he saw at a novelty shop while out with his friends, how was he supposed to know her aunt would be visiting from Mexico City that day?

Or that her aunt would turn as red as her hair when she learned Jack was not just her friend but friend with benefits who she’s been seeing since they met in Vegas.

“The deal’s off if you make me fly coach, Nelson.”

#eva smith #evacore #jack nelson fanfic #jack nelson x oc #peaky blinders fanfiction #modern au

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billys99 · 10 months ago

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thank you for tagging miii @homesickgrl

9 people you'd like to know better

3 ships: none..

First ship: I dont remember

Last song: Long Way 2 Go X Dat Right There 😭

Currently reading: fanfics lol

Currently craving: Nacho fries from Taco Bell, a strawberry pie thingy, Mac n cheese, Supreme Pizza, Chinese food, something with lots of tomatoes and onions/vegetables (idk man I just want something healthy and yummy) and apple cider

Favorite color: Blueeeee!!! Purple, Neutral colors/shades wtv yall call them are cute too, and yk the earthier colors 🥰 (browns, reds, greens, yellow/gold)💛🤎🤍💜💙❤️‍🔥

Relationship status: alone

Last film: Some lifetime movie (I forgot its name) 😭

Last thing I goggled: foods to eat for a healthier gut

Latest obsession: 70s fashion, Military stuff, spring colors, spring perfumes, health stuff, workouts, hair theory, psychology, beauty tips to improve my looks and “All along the watchtower” by Jimi Hendrix (no idc about Bob Dylan, his version sucked) 😼🤭

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braveclementine · 3 months ago

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Moving On

Warnings: 18+readersonly, fem x fem, foursome, oral, fingering, pet names

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OCs, which consist of Penny Fury, Elizabeth Nelson, Elijah Chan, Katya Venice, Violetta Moscow, Lan Le, Josh, Trang Tien, Ahni Jallow, Mai Ito, and Ghaida Kashual as well as other OCs that will come up throughout the story.

Steve, Sam, Loki, and Elijah sat in the main room, waiting for Heimdall to bring their girl home.

When had she become their girl?

Who knows.

They saw the flash of rainbow outside the windows and their hearts seemed to start beating faster. The nerves were growing in each of them, even Elijah.

Elizabeth entered the room, looking happier than they had seen her look in two weeks and the guilt hit them hard again.

When she saw them, she just smiled and said, "Hey. How are you guys? Are you hungry? I was thinking about making sloppy joes."

"Sweetheart, can you come sit down real quick." Steve asked softly. "We want to talk to you."

She grew wary, sitting down nervously. Steve took one of her hands into his and Elijah took the other.

"We just want to apologize." Steve said softly. "When you came to us, we were afraid to hurt you. But now, we know that you actually needed us. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me. I promise you it will never happen again. I will always listen to you." He kissed the back of her hand.

"I thought I knew you like the back of my hand." Elijah whispered. "But now I realize I still have so much to learn. I'm sorry for assuming that I knew what you needed when I didn't."

"I'm sorry." Loki said sincerely. "I'm so sorry pet. I too was afraid to hurt you. I was afraid you were pushing yourself to pet play. . . well it was stupid. I never meant to make you doubt that I want you to be my kitten. You will always be my kitten as long as you want to be."

One tear trailed down her face and she breathed in and then said, "I just want to stop feeling like this. I want to stop being this. . . weak person I've become. I don't cry like this, not over stupid stuff. But ever since. . . ever since Rumlow everything seems to make me cry."

"Hey." Sam said softly. "It wasn't Rumlow. Having the kids has just made your body more emotional. It's not a bad thing Elizabeth. I'm actually glad you feel comfortable enough to lower your walls and show us how you're feeling. You used to hide everything from us. All of your emotions, hidden by this façade of joy. And yes, most of the time you were filled with joy. But you had other emotions. So. . . you're not weak sugar. You're just who you need to be."

There was a moment of silence and then Elijah asked, "What do you need from us right now?"

"Food." She said happily, like a puppy wagging her tail. "But I think I'm craving something other than sloppy joes now."

Sam groaned lightly. "Don't let that be a sexual innuendo."

She giggled. "No. I think I want a spicy walking taco."

"What in the world is a walking taco?" Steve asked, looking alarmed.

"You've never had a walking taco?" Elizabeth asked in shock.

"I prefer my tacos without legs, thank you." Bucky said suddenly from behind the rest of them. Elizabeth looked over and the brunette super soldier came over and hugged her tightly. "I missed you doll."

Elizabeth giggled, "Come on, let's go make walking tacos."

They went with her into the kitchen and watched as she grabbed a box of small bags of chips. She had nacho Doritos, some sort of super spicy Dorito called 'Flamas', and then Fritos.

She showed them how to heat up the hamburger meat, heat melted cheese, and then shredded lettuce, chopped tomatoes, flakes of onion, and whatever else they wanted to the tacos.

"Of course," Elizabeth then added, opening up a bag of the Flamas and spreading hers out into a glass bowl. "If you have hot food in plastic, the plastic can melt into your food so I never actually eat my walking taco in a bag."

She then put hot cheese on her chips, letting it drip in large globs. She added white cheese and banana peppers and then started to dig in.

Bucky, Steve, and Loki all looked rather uncertain about it, but Sam and Elijah started to make theirs easily.

Penny suddenly came in, followed by Katya, Violetta, Thor, Clint, Rhodey, Natasha, Wanda, Pietro, Ahni, Mai, and Josh.

"Ooh, walking tacos." Clint said, yanking a bag of Doritos, opening it up and started to dress his up.

"I think I like tacos that don't walk." Thor said uncertainly, echoing Bucky from earlier, which made Elizabeth giggle.

Penny giggled as well, helping Thor make his taco and then they all settled down in the community room to eat them, putting on the fifth movie of Harry Potter.

🤜🚅 𝕡ＯⓋ 𝒸ʰ𝕒𝐍ق𝔢 🎿🙁

Penny was happy that everything seemed to be working out. She was snuggled up between Pietro and Rhodey as she devoured the walking taco she had made. Rhodey had his head resting on her shoulder and Pietro had slung his arm over her shoulders.

Trang was sitting in Tony's lap, the two of them staring at the screen with the same semi-bored look on their face. Which contrasted completely to Loki's smile. He actually quite liked the Harry Potter series as it turned out.

Stephen was with them as well, resting on a couch that he had to himself, though Loki was sitting at the foot of the couch by Stephen's head.

Clint was perched on the back of the chair that Katya was sitting in, with Lan sitting next to her and Violetta on the other side. Mai and Ahni were sitting on the floor, Mai resting her head in Ahni's lap.

Natasha, Bruce, Wanda, and Vision were snuggled up together as well. Vision was in his human form at the moment and Penny found it a little funny that he was actually wearing glasses.

Elizabeth was snuggled between T'Challa and Bucky while Steve and Sam sat behind them. Elijah sat at Elizabeth's feet, his arm around Ghaida's shoulders as she rested against him. Josh was sitting a little bit by himself.

Penny had seen the Harry Potter movie once or twice, but it wasn't until she was re-watching with them that she really noticed the details. . . mostly because Elizabeth kept pointing them out.

Severus Snape was up on the screen at the moment. Penny wasn't paying to much attention until Elizabeth suddenly said, "Fuck he's hot."

"Who?" Tony asked sharply. "Not him?"

"Severus is so hot." Elizabeth sighed, closing her eyes and smiling. "So is Lucius Malfoy."

"They're the bad guys!" Clint protested.

"Doesn't stop them from being hot." Elizabeth retorted. She smiled. "It's the long hair."

Penny bit her fingers as Bucky suddenly looked like a peacock preening his feathers and Loki started to smirk, tossing his hair over his shoulder like a diva.

"You're gonna have to grow your hair out Fireball." Tony snickered.

"So are you." Elijah retorted and Tony stopped laughing, sulking behind Trang's back who was smirking.

"I guess I get you all to myself." Bucky chuckled, holding Elizabeth to his chest.

Loki let out a laugh, "Nice try cyborg. But I look more like Snape than you ever will."

Elizabeth nearly shot out of her seat in excitement. "Oh! You can actually morph into Severus. Oh it's a dream come true."

Loki scowled at her. "Absolutely not. I will only fuck you as my fabulous self."

"If I had his superpower I would totally do it for you doll." Bucky smirked.

Penny, Natasha, Violetta, Ghaida, Wanda, Katya, and Trang all burst out laughing at the boys banter. Pietro chuckled and Penny could feel the vibrations traveling through her body.

Things settled down again until the end of the movie. Elizabeth and Violetta were crying because Sirius Black was dead. Bucky looked right pleased with himself as he comforted Elizabeth. Penny comforted Violetta, trying not to laugh.

"Alright, time for bed." Tony declared as the credits started to roll.

Stephen snorted, "Says you." He ruffled Tony's hair affectionately and sat up with a groan.

"Hey." Tony frowned at him, "Stop moving."

"Who are you going to bed with tonight?" Rhodey asked her, looking sideways at Penny, who felt a thrill go through her. She rarely spent any time with Rhodey and tonight would be a wonderful time to do so.

She reached up and kissed his cheek. "Would you like to?" She asked shyly, blushing. "Maybe you and Pietro? If you two, you know, interact with each other."

Rhodey smirked. "Alright sweet mama."

"Sounds good Princessa." Pietro said.

"How would you feel if us two joined you?" Clint asked from behind, motioning to him and Natasha.

"Sounds good." Penny smiled, looking up at Rhodey who agreed.

The five of them headed up to Rhodey's room.

Rhodeys room had black walls with a gold art piece above the bedroom headboard. The bed was large and flat, built seemingly into the wall with a footboard or headboard. The sheets were thick and almost fluffy, with white sheets underneath a thick black comforter. There were several bookshelves lining the walls, but the long ones that were waist high.

It was a neat room, clean and tidy and smelling surprisingly of flowers, sea salt, and. . . honey? She wasn't quite sure. But it was a pleasant smell nonetheless.

Penny lifted her shirt over her head as Natasha got to her knees and started to undress Clint. Pietro helped undress Rhodey as Penny slipped out of her skirt, abandoning her clothes to the floor.

Penny knelt before Rhodey, unbuckling his jeans, pulling them down with his boxers in one go- she was getting very good at it.

He was longer than some of the others, perhaps up there with Loki and Sam. Steve and Bucky, of course, had the largest ones besides Thor.

She stroked his cock first as Pietro and Rhodey made out above her, before kissing the tip and then licking it. She sucked at his tip and when he cried out in pleasure into Pietro's mouth, she engulfed what she could take fully into her mouth, running her tongue pleasurably down the veins of his cock.

Pietro kept a hand on the back of Rhodey's head, kissing him firmly. Rhodey kept one hand tangled in Penny's white locks, the other in Pietro's blond hair, sucking on Pietro's bottom lip.

She felt hands on her hips, lips on her shoulders, and knew that Clint and Natasha were both behind her, giving her an equal amount of attention.

Fingers touched her clit and she reached up, grasping Pietro's prick with her other hand while she continued to focus her attention towards Rhodey. Going down on his cock even further, his fingers tightening in her hair.

She whimpered, feeling someone's tongue run through her folds while someone elses fingers pushed into her cunt. Her grip on Pietro tightened as she moved and he was groaning above her, thrusting his hips lightly with her movements.

"Cum for me birdie." Clint hummed in her ear, confirming that the tongue licking her was Natasha's. "Cum for us."

She moaned around Rhodey's length, squeezing Pietro, thighs clenching around Natasha's head. Clint's hands came up to caress her breasts, rubbing her nipples softly between his fingers. He kissed her neck, sucking at the sensitive skin.

"That's it sweet mama." Rhodey groaned, before spilling down her throat. "Fuck you're gorgeous."

"On the bed." Clint swatted her ass as she slowly pulled off Rhodey's cock, licking anything she had left behind.

She crawled up on the bed, hovering over Pietro who was already on the bed. Clint, Rhodey, and Natasha joined the two of them quickly.

"Come here Princessa." Pietro commanded and Penny straddled him, letting him guide himself into her cunt. His hands went immediately to her hips, helping her as she started to ride him. She shifted her hips back and forth before moaning as Natasha straddled Pietros' face, drawing Penny into a kiss with her.

Penny hummed happily, biting Natashas lip lightly, sucking on it and then nibbling at it. Natasha took over very quickly, tightening her hand in Pennys white locks. Nat sucked on Penny's tongue while she moaned, riding Pietro's face while Pietro amazingly kept up the fast, rhythmic thrusts into Penny.

Clint moaned somewhere behind Penny and she broke away from Nat to glance behind and see Clint on his elbows, with Rhodey thrusting into him from behind.

"God." Penny groaned, before reaching back up for Nats lips.

Penny felt Clint's fingers gently prodding at her back hole and she relaxed so that he could start fucking her with two fingers. She clenched down tightly on Pietro, reacting to Clint's fingers. Nat grasped the back of her head again, pulling her to her once more.

"Ты такой красивый зайчик" Natasha purred. [You're so beautiful Bunny]

"Итак, вы, Наталья. . . так красиво" Penny whispered back, nipping at Nat's bottom lip, before clenching down on Pietro harshly. "Fuck Pietro!" [So are you Natalia. . .So beautiful]

"Хорошая девочка Принцесса." Pietro praised, spurting up inside of her. [Good girl Princessa]

"Да, у тебя так хорошо получается, Берди. Теперь иди и сядь на мой член," Clint chuckled, kissing down Penny's shoulders. [Yes, you're doing so well Birdie. Now come and sit on my cock.]

"Okay." Rhodey grumbled as Penny quickly went ahead, straddling Clint and sinking down on his cock. "Can we all revert back to the normal language?"

Penny giggled as she placed her hands on Clint's chest, rocking herself slowly on his cock while he lightly thrusted his hips upwards, rolling with her.

Natasha smirked, before pushing Rhodey back into the bed and leaned down, starting to purr Russian into his ear as she rode him hard. Rhodey was a mess under her very quickly, before the two of them were cumming with each other.

Penny meanwhile, was now pressed down on her back, against the sheets, while Clint hooked one leg over his shoulder and fucked into her mercilessly.

"Please?" Penny moaned, tossing her head back.

"Nah." Clint teased. "C'mon birdie, you can go a little longer than that."

Pietros hands fondled her large, soft breasts in his hands. "Yes Princessa, hold on for us just a little longer."

Penny panted, clenching around Clint, eyes flickering. "P-please Clint. Please?"

"You're a needy little bird aren't you." Clint smirked, eyes darker than normal, his lips skimming her jaw before sucking on the skin of her neck. "My needy little bird. Come and cum."

Penny arched, her entire body tense, before relaxing completely as she shattered apart on Clints' dick.

"You're so beautiful when you cum Princessa." Pietro smirked, leaning over and kissing Penny's forehead.

Penny smiled, blissed, reaching for Rhodey last. He flipped her over onto her stomach, kissing the space between her shoulder blades as he thrusted into her from behind. He drew her back onto her hands and knees, his hands cupping her breasts and squeezing them as he fucked her.

"Fuck." Penny gripped the sheets tightly in her hands, squeezing her eyes shut, finishing quickly.

"That's it sweet mama." Rhodey whispered in her ear, pulling out gently and cleaning her up with the flannel that Clint had brought back. "Love you."

"Love you too." Penny smiled gently, curling up in Natasha's arms with Pietro on the other side. Things were back to normal.

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