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ceilidho · 8 months ago

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take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (part 8)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

Now a nocturnal animal emerges into the daylight hours.

A week becomes two and your shoulders untense. It’s not something you notice at first because you’re used to an ever present strain between your shoulder blades and an ache in your jaw from grinding your teeth at night. Then a fortnight goes by without so much as a missive with your name on it floating across John’s desk or a stranger appearing in town after tracking you down, and you wonder if maybe the world really is big enough to hide in.

It sure feels that way at times. The woods beyond the bounds of John’s property stretch out farther than the eye can see and even walking it feels like you could disappear into another realm. Old spruces shoot up high into the clouds, and deeper into the woods, huge rock formations grow more and more prominent as you near the mountains. John takes you through the woods on horseback, following the rough trails carved into the dirt by a century of wagons and carts using the same path. The footprints of a different time.

Up in the trees, birds warble and chirp, talking to one another in songs that you’ve never heard before. A woodpecker drills into the side of a tree. Pinecones snap out of the upper branches and drop to the forest floor.

There is only a single trail and it’s easy to lose. You grow a bit nervous when John takes you off the trail and deeper into the woods, but he does so with the confidence of a man that knows these woods like the back of his hand. You go quiet when he stops Buttercup to let a herd of deer wander by, the stragglers hurrying to catch up with the group, throwing the two of you nervous glances before they disappear into the thicket.

“Should we be out this far?” you ask in a whisper, reluctant to disturb the silence. Though the woods are full of animals that bleat, chirp, chatter, and hoot, the sound of your own voice feels preternaturally loud and shrill.

“We won’t get lost, darlin’. I know my way around,” John reassures you, curling an arm around your waist to hold you to him. These days, you hardly worry about tumbling off the horse. Not with him at your back anyway.

“That wasn’t really my worry,” you mumble, trailing off.

“Then what’re you getting all worked up about?”

“Aren’t there wolves out here? Or bears?”

He snorts, the sound making you jolt. You don’t topple over because he has such a firm hold around your waist. “They don’t usually come this close to town. They’re more scared of you than you are of them.”

“That sounds like something mothers tell their children to stop them crying,” you say flatly. You draw your legs up automatically when John directs Buttercup through a shallow basin, a shortcut back home. It makes you anxious for a moment, but the water barely goes up to her ankles, so you relax when you realize that you’re in no danger of being swept away by the current.

“That doesn’t mean a bear or wolf can’t wander by, but it’s rare.”

“And there it is.”

You can feel the heat of his glower on the back of your head. “We could spend the night out here if you want to see for yourself.”

At that, you shut your mouth. Even if he were to prove his point, you have no interest in camping out in the woods now that you’ve become accustomed to the luxury of a soft bed. Granted that you’re forced to share that same bed, still you’ve never slept half as well as you do these days. You wake up rested after nine hours of blissful shut eye, a sleep so deep that your dreams only come in half-remembered flashes. Often they involve the man you wake up wrapped around, and for that you’re grateful that they remain submerged.

A new desire has started to burrow its way into the back of your mind in recent days. It starts out as a thought so brief that you hardly notice it before it skitters away.

And then it lingers.

You wake up in the middle of the night hot, sweat dripping down the nape of your neck and a fire burning in your loins, a red-hot coil wound around itself, fit to burst. Pulsating. At some point throughout the night, you must have thrown a leg around John’s waist because it rests there now, your hand planted in the middle of his chest and your sex all but rubbing up against his thigh. Under your hand, you can feel his heart pump strong and steady.

You hold very, very still, waiting for him to wake. But John sleeps on, his palm loose where it rests along the curve of your hip, fingers curling into the flesh of your backside.

You can hardly look at him these days without shaking. You’ve come to fixate on the sway of his hips when he walks and the flecks of silver in his beard. The grooves in his weathered hands. The way your head fits in the palm of his hand when he cradles it to his chest. The fond glimmer in his eyes that shines the brightest when he puts his hat on your head and it slips past your eyes, too big for your head.

When you tip it up in order to see, the folds around his eyes become more pronounced with the force of his smile.

“There you are, bug,” he says, taking the hat off your head to set it back on his and reeling you in for a kiss.

Bug, love, honey, darling. The constant flux of endearments makes your head spin. John never calls you by the name on your marriage license. It’s like that name means nothing to him, cast away at the first opportunity and replaced by an endless stream of pet names.

He hasn’t touched your sex since making you come on the porch swing the week before. He pulls you into a chaste embrace at night, the only evidence of his own desire being the stiff shaft nestled against the small of your back in the early morning hours, which he takes care of on his own in the bathroom downstairs after pressing a kiss to your cheek. You feel robbed of something, though you don’t know quite what.

You’re tempted to offer your help, but you don’t know exactly what that would entail. Inexperience and fear of rejection hold you back, stay your tongue. In the two weeks you’ve been married, he hasn’t once tried to pin you down and rut between your thighs like you expected and dreaded that very first night.

Now that that time has passed, you don’t know how to initiate that moment again.

John promises to teach you how to ride a horse. You can’t see a reason to protest, much to your chagrin. Despite your apprehensions, even you can’t deny that it would be a helpful skill. A train only goes one way after all, confined to a single track. A horse has no such laws to obey.

The thought stays nestled at the back of your mind as the days continue on.

You flounder around in the kitchen on the day that John invites his deputies over for supper. You’ve met the big one—Simon—now a small handful of times, each encounter marked by a silence that sucks the air out of the room when he turns his gaze on you and holds it. Perhaps you’ve simply ascribed too much importance to his person, given that every time you’ve seen him, your life has changed irrevocably. His presence is always followed by revelation it seems. The archangel of vicissitude. A harbinger of uncertain times.

The other two are new. John introduces you to them when you bring out the cutlery and crockery to set the table, and you nearly go cross-eyed when they reach across the table at the same time to offer their hands. You go to meet them halfway, but flinch when John brings his hand down on the table with enough force to make the silverware jump.

“Sorry, darlin’,” he apologizes to you first before turning his glare on the other two. “That ain’t proper, boys. You wait for the lady to offer her hand first—you don’t treat a woman like she’s a mutt you’re teaching to shake.”

“Ah, sorry, hen,” the one on the left says, his voice a thick Scottish brogue like a purr. He’s possibly the handsomest man you’ve ever met, but there’s something dangerous and wild in his eyes. When he smiles, it curls up in a roguish sort of way that makes you falter, like he’s in on a joke that you aren’t. “Dinnae mean to offend. No’ often we get ta meet such a pretty lady.”

“Sorry—” the one on the right apologizes in a voice far more earnest than his counterpart’s. “And sorry for him. We think he was raised by wolves.”

“What’s yer excuse then?” the Scot sneers, knocking his knee into the other man’s under the table. “Dinnae see ye waitin’ for her fuckin’ hand like a gentleman—apologies, hen.”

“Christ,” John sighs, leaning back in his chair and staring up at the ceiling.

Simon stays silent at the other end of the table, but the whole table jumps when he aims a kick at the Scott’s leg. He hisses and blurts out a word in a language you’ve never heard before, the word unmistakably vitriolic. He clutches at his shin and shoots a nasty look at Simon, though he doesn’t make a move to retaliate.

“Name’s Kyle. Kyle Garrick,” the other introduces himself, and you finally reach across the table to offer your hand. His hand is warm against yours when he takes it, dark skin burnished in the candlelight. There’s something inviting about him; something about his eyes, so dark that you almost fall into them. Thick lips curl up into a smile. “And this here is Soap.”

You frown. “Soap?”

The man in question runs a hand down his front, emphasizing the cut of his shirt and the way it clings to the muscle of his chest. “‘Cause of how well I clean up.”

Simon barks out a laugh at that. The sound comes so sudden and sharp that it startles you. “You got it ‘cause your mum had to wash out your mouth with soap.”

It’s the most you’ve ever heard out of him and you can only stare wide-eyed at the lot of them as they dissolve into bickering and squabbling after that. It’s almost a relief to head back into the kitchen to finish cooking.

Dinner is a similar messy affair, punctuated by the sound of Soap practically gnawing the meat off the bone. He only apologizes when John barks at him for making a mess, more food on the floor around him than on his plate, but his table manners don’t last very long. John doesn’t seem so much embarrassed on their behalf as annoyed, but it’s an annoyance that comes with an aftertaste of warmth. You can tell without asking that they’ve known each other for years.

There’s room enough in you for food and envy. Back home you had friends. Never close friends, but acquaintances at least. Maids you could recognize by face. Small talk while ascending single-file up the servants’ staircase. Perhaps little more than that. You’d never been particularly close to any of them, but how could you? You worked from morning ‘till night, up and down the stairs, moving in the shadows. Never making too much noise lest your employers take notice of you.

Like he did.

You shake it off. That’s no matter now. You’re hundreds of miles away and living under a new name. A married woman, to the county sheriff no less. It only sometimes hurts your heart to think of how lonely you’d been.

When they leave, you stand at the window and watch as they disappear into the black of the night, Simon at the front of the pack, his torchlight leading the way. The sound of horse hooves beating against the dirt recedes the farther they get.

His hands warm your shoulders. You don’t know how long he’s been there, standing behind you while you stared out the window after the boys. All you know is that his hands are warm, and the kiss he presses to the back of your head makes you arch back into him, unconsciously gravitating closer to him. Needing to be near.

In bed, you curl your fingers against his chest. On a rough exhale, you wake. You dream still of something terrible that happens somewhere else, in another city, in an old life. His heartbeat lulls you back to sleep.

John takes you to the local seamstress to have you fitted for a pair of pants and suddenly you’re out of excuses. They fit you comfortably, like a second skin, and you find yourself pulling at the legs at your final fitting as if to stretch out the material. The seamstress nearly jabs you with a pin and glares up at you until you stop fidgeting.

You come to terms with it when he brings you into the stables and makes you fetch the saddle from where it rests on its stand. It’s heavier than you expected. You stumble back over to where John now has Buttercup standing in the middle of the stable, holding her by the lead fixed to her bridle.

“I don’t know if—” you start, trepidation climbing up your chest until it grips you by the throat. For as many times as you’ve ridden her, you’ve never done it alone.

John fixes her lead to a post and walks over to you, taking the saddle from your hands and letting it drop to the ground. He cups your face in both hands to tilt your head up. “Hey, honey. We’re not doing much of anything today, alright? Just a walk around the paddock so you get used to sitting on Buttercup on your own. I’m not gonna smack her ass and send you down the trail at full tilt..”

That gets a laugh out of you. “You promise?”

He smiles. “Promise, darlin’.”

And he keeps it. The only thing you do that day is learn how to tack a horse and how to properly mount and dismount her. The latter part of the lesson is devoted to you trying to find your balance while John leads the two of you around the pen at a leisurely pace. He calms you down when he sees you grow too stiff, stopping to coo and rub your thigh until you gradually relax. It’s heartwarming until Buttercup begins to tense up too for a reason unbeknownst to you and you watch in righteous fury as John calms her down the same way.

John gets you a hat to keep the sun from beating down on you, but there’s little he can do about the soreness between your thighs and the stiffness in your legs the next day. All you can do is hiss and moan in pain, hobbling around the house until he forces you down into a chair and hikes up your dress in order to apply an arnica salve to your inner thighs.

It’s a relief and an affront at the same time. The duality of man. The salve soothes much of the ache, but you twitch nervously around John for the rest of the day, the memory of him pinning you to the chair and forcibly spreading your thighs haunting you. The lingering ache in your core is just the salt in the wound.

It rains another day. A light drizzle while the sun is still out.

Every day you sit and you think, will it be today? And then the wash basins are emptied out in the field, the horses are taken out to the paddock, you pin the laundry up on the line to dry, and John presses a farewell kiss to your forehead when he leaves you with Kate and nothing happens. Every inch of you waits for more, anticipates more. Throbs when he leaves you wanting, only a chaste kiss and a squeeze around your waist before he’s off.

You can feel it coming to a head. An itch you can’t shake.

That day comes with another ache you can’t shake.

“Please,” you beg, clasping your hands in front of you. “One day of rest. That’s all I’m asking. I can’t do this anymore, John.”

John snaps the lead in his hands. “Let’s get a move on. We’re burning daylight.”

You hang your head low on the march over to the stables, John taking up the rear like he expects you to bolt. An executioner’s walk. The thought of escape has never seemed further away—not even because of its feasibility, but because all you want to do is lie down and rest.

“You can quit your moping,” he says as you tack up Buttercup, a pout on your lips. “Got something special for you today.”

That makes you perk up, regardless of the fact that he doesn’t specify what that is. Anticipation mounts in you when he helps you up onto Buttercup and then climbs up behind you himself. He steers her away from the paddock and towards the trail leading into the woods, the sun at its zenith now, illuminating everything as far as the eye can see.

You’ve ridden this trail before. A week ago, with John at your back as he is now. Through the fields and over the hills until the trees start to number in the tens and then the hundreds, no clear delineation between plain and forest. Simply there and then everywhere.

By now, after hours of sun beating down on the path, the trail is mostly dry, yesterday’s rain long since having sunk into the earth. You think it’d still be a tough hike on foot, but on horseback you cover acres of land at a brisk pace, Buttercup hardly breaking a sweat. You cross paths with a small group traveling by horse and wagon, but John breaks off from the path not too long after that, steering Buttercup deeper into the wilderness, where the only gullies are the ones carved out by years and years of rainfall.

You only see it when the land begins to dip and you’re forced to hold onto the horn and tighten your thighs around the fenders to keep steady. At the bottom of a hill, a small stream opens up into a larger river, narrowing out at the other end where the land rises again and the water can only trickle over the pebbly riverbed. On the other side, a rocky outcropping cuts the stream off from view.

“Is this where you used to come to bathe?” you ask, recalling an earlier conversation.

John sighs. “Thought I’d take you for a swim as a treat, but if you’d rather just tease me—”

“Well now, let’s not be hasty,” you say, already trying to dismount on your own, eyes glued on the stream glimmering in the sunlight. John chuckles, keeping you pressed to him until he guides Buttercup under a tree for shade and dismounts first, helping you down after him.

All you want to do is wade in the stream up to your ankles, so that’s what you do. Boots kicked off, Buttercup relaxing in the shade of a tree, John standing by the water’s edge with his hands on his hips and watching you tiptoe over the smooth rocks below. You roll up your pant legs, but eventually you feel the ends grow damp as you venture farther out. At its deepest, you would probably sink up to your waist.

“Don’t you want to swim?” John asks from somewhere behind you.

You splash around a bit, kicking your feet through the water. “Hard to do that with clothes—”

When you turn back around to face him, your eyes dart down momentarily at the sight of skin before you squeak and whirl back around, sending up an arc of water. Twice now you’ve seen him naked.

“You’ve no clothes on,” you state, bluntly enough that it almost sounds stupid.

You hear the water splash and ripple when he takes his first step in. “Right—you better think about doing the same if you don’t want to ride home soaking wet.”

“I was perfectly fine just getting my feet wet,” you say indignantly.

“We came out here to swim, not get your feet wet,” John laughs. You stiffen when his hand comes down on your shoulder, conscious of the fact that your husband is standing right behind you, entirely divested of his clothes. “So best get to steppin’.”

“You can’t make me.”

“Oh, honey,” he says pityingly. “Yes, I can.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as you make your way back to shore, careful not to allow yourself a glimpse of him. Your boots are stacked beneath the shade of another tree, John’s clothes folded neatly beside them. You strip slowly, attentive to the world around you; though unlikely, it’s not impossible that someone might wander by. Your only consolation is that John is still within sight, though you keep your back to him because in recent days, you’ve developed a hunger for him that even now makes your stomach hurt.

Though the air is warm, you shiver. When you turn around with your arms crossed over your breasts to hide them from sight, you find John wading in the river up to his waist. You’ve seen him like this once before, the hearty body of a man in his prime. Sturdy and strong. The hair on his chest is darker than that on his head, wet too from the dip he must have taken when your back was turned. His hair is slicked back too, a wet hand combing it back.

“Come on, darlin’,” he calls, beckoning you forward with his hand.

The water is a cold shock when you step in past your ankles. Ice cold tendrils wrap up your legs, sucking the warmth from you.

You suck in a soft breath when he pulls you into his arms and heaves you up, big hands gripping under your thighs. Your breasts press against the wet skin of his chest, nipples already pebbled. The river is deeper than you assumed; John pulls you deeper in until it pools around your waist and then your chest. Cold enough that you shiver until John dips his head down and the kiss he presses to your lips melts you from the inside out.

You can’t escape the intimacy of water-slick skin. When John drags you up his chest, your nipples brush over his and the shudder that passes through you is violent, toe-curling. You know that he can feel the heat of your core even underwater. With your legs wound around his waist, every inch of you is plastered to his front. Even your fingers play with the ends of his hair, arms draped over his shoulders. You can’t look away.

“C’mon,” he murmurs, breath hot on your face. “Eyes on me.”

As if you could look anywhere else.

He reaches down under the water to readjust himself and you gasp when his shaft is suddenly right there, trapped between his belly and your heat. It’s the closest you’ve ever gotten to coitus, his glans nestled between your folds. You’d only have to shift slightly for him to slip right in. The thought makes your breath quicken.

He doesn’t make a move to take you though, even knowing that he could. How easy it would be. How it’s due to him. Your husband that’s waited a fortnight to take you as his own. John kisses you until each slick pass of his lips grows sloppier, clumsier—his lips barely parting from yours before they’re on you again, rendering you a creature of base needs.

But his hands don’t shift from your backside where he holds you in place. His fingers dig into the flesh hard enough to bruise, but they don’t move to part your folds to make room for his manhood. You expect him to—practically yearn for it and squeeze him around the neck all the harder when he subverts your expectations, doing no more than letting you grind your heat against the base of his shaft.

“John—John, please,” you beg, mindless for what. You don’t know what you’re asking for.

“What d’ya need, darlin’?” he asks into your mouth, stealing your answer with another kiss.

You fall under the swell of another wave. When the root of his cock glides over your clit, your core clenches on nothing, a sob half-bitten off in your mouth, ripped from your chest.

It doesn’t matter how close to him you get—he gives you nothing. The heat could very well burn you from the inside out. Cold water caresses your skin as it flows past, but the center of you runs so hot that you hardly notice it.

When he hikes you higher up against his chest, you clench your fingers in his hair, whining when he takes your nipple into his mouth. Your gasp comes out sharp and hurt when the coarse bristles of his beard rub rough against your breast. He sucks at your breast tender at first, gentle, eyes half-lidded like his mind has gone somewhere else, but there’s a glint in his eye that grows wild and dark, that turns him rough. You don’t know what to do except shake and let him use you how he wants.

Desperation nips at your heels, urging you up the length of him. If you had more nerve, you’d reach down and grasp him under the water, notch the head of his member against your sex and sink right down on him. You need him like you've never needed anything before. Every part of you aflame, searing hot under the sun at its highest point; right overhead, right on top of you.

His teeth sink delicately into your areola, tongue lapping over your nipple to soothe the hurt, and suddenly, you break.

“Please—” you gasp, wrenching his mouth away from your breast and whimpering when he resists at first, glaring up at you like he might bite. “Please, John—I can’t take it. I need you.”

His eyes darken, the pupil swallowing everything up. “Need me where, wife? Here?”

A hand dips between your thighs, pointer finger gliding over your sex, plump with blood. So tender that your mouth hangs open on a whine when he touches you.

“Y-yes,” you whimper, gaze swimming.

John’s breath comes out in a harsh, ragged pant. Completely undone in a way you’ve never seen before. “Get out, darlin’. I’m taking you home. Gonna give you what you need.”

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #price/reader #john price/reader #price x reader #price x you #john price x reader #john price

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retiredteabag · 18 days ago

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soft!Toji dog-sitting for a generous!reader

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - pt. 4 - pt. 5 - pt. 6 - pt. 7

Synopsis: Toji was quite accustomed to objectifying himself for a check. And to be frank, far worse actions as well. Now he’s not sure what to do with himself after meeting the kind and generous owner of the dog he pet-sits for.

read along as Toji grows more comfortable around you despite his past.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Toji was flipping his burner phone around in his hand over and over. Waiting patiently for a recognizable man to come stand beside him.

It hadn't rained in days but the streets he had been loitering were damp, the drainage was clogged with leaves and trash. This place was shitty. Quiet in a way that was dangerous to those from an area with high crime rates.

Three days prior, Toji watched as you shook, hiding your fear behind explanations. That night when he got to his run down apartment, he contacted a "private bail bondsman" (a glorified bounty hunter) to take on the favor he asked of his old boss, Shiu.

Toji knew better than anyone the kind of paper trail left in the wake of corporate abuse crimes. Though the man had never worked an office job a day in his life, it wasn't uncommon for a high roller to request his services. To think, you worked in an environment even remotely similar to the ones he had seen. It made him sick.

Toji had the bondsman look into HR files from your company. Look into the shareholders, those shareholder's families, and that was really all it took. Toji might not have known what to look for, but his little agent certainly did. The connections were obvious, all leading to one man.

A slimy bastard with a dozen write-ups, yet for reasons unknown, no trials, no court dates, no absence from work.

Perhaps a few years ago, this endeavor would give Toji a power trip, to be the one calling the shots, and handing out orders, he might have taken pleasure in the experience. Somehow that wasn't the case. Somehow the connection to you made him want to get it over with quickly. Somehow something had changed.

He told you none of this, of course. You with your big eyes and soft words. You and your endless kindness. No, he wouldn't tell you his plan. He would tell himself it was to protect you, but deep down he knew the truth.

He could not fathom you fearing him. He wouldn't allow it. Whatever that meant, he would become an image of security for you. And he wouldn't screw it up. Not after the gentlest soul he had met had been taken to feel unsafe.

It is for that reason. And only that reason, that Toji refrains from having your scummy coworker killed. He could've had it done in a few hours. Woulda done it himself too. It wouldn't have haunt him, he wouldn't feel remorse. But for you, he would go nicely.

Nicely enough.

Blackmail might strike fear in the heart of a man more than his own death could. And after days of research, there was a feast to exploit this snake with.

"Just get it done." Toji was saying, his flip phone in one hand, the other scratching between the dog's ears.

Toji made a kissy face at the panting canine. The dog appeared to be smiling as Toji brutally called the shots on a man's career.

The man over the phone spoke, "I've got an anonymous email ready for his rich little daddy, that and a CC for the CEO of the company. He'll be gone in a day or so. Won't have a face in the corporate world if it leaks." The man on the line was laughing.

"Good. Once you're done, Shiu will have your pay. Don't speak of it to anyone." Toji stood, looked at the clock.

"Yeah, man, I got it." And with that, Toji snaped the device shut, heading to the door to get his shoes. You'd be back soon, and he hopes to catch you on the way out.

Unintentionally, of course.

These past few days Toji had never felt so comfortable in his position. He was sure of himself. You didn't want him for anything but his care of your dog. You weren't gonna use him.

He felt almost ashamed. For the first time, he was more than just his body, more than a couple bucks. Why did a small part of him wish you would look at him the way other women did. With hunger.

He must be crazy.

He heard your car coming up the driveway, slid on his other shoe and swung open the door. He looked in the opposite direction, pretending he didn't see or hear you.

You stopped the car, put it in park, and rolled down the window. "Oh, Toji, you didn't have to stay this late!" You look at him with a worried gaze and he just smiles.

Bending down to look at you properly, he basks in the fact that you don't pull your face from his. He shares your space when he says, "Was nothin'".

You grin, "You're too good. I'm so glad you're here when I can't be, seriously, thank you."

You're too good. Oh, if only you knew.

"Yer' just easily impressed." He taps on your car door twice and stands to his full height again. "Too grateful and all that." He swings his key ring on his finger, stepping back toward his car but never taking his eyes from you.

You frown. "No really. I'm glad I can rely on you! And if you ever need a day off, just tell me, okay?"

He tilts his head, "Kay'" He smirks. Knowing it won't happen, but he likes to see you smiling at him. He leans against his beat up vehicle, watching you drive into your garage, park again, and get out. He watches you get to the interior door and waves back slowly before you press the garage door button to close.

Then, he looks up at the sky, sighing.

The difference between the two of you could not be more stark. He felt like a sewer rat in your presence. You were so pristine, and perfect. Still, you never treated him as anything but a privilege to be around.

His chest ached.

Sighing, he unlocked his car door and hopped in. Ready to make the drive back to his apartment.

Was it too much, to hope you would see him the way he sees you? Does he deserve that? Definitely not. But he couldn't help but hope. You never took an interest in those uppity corporate boys you worked with. And you were so endlessly busy.

He shook all the silly thoughts filling his head out. Starting up the engine, he ran a hand down his face.

She deserves a man who'll wait on her hand and foot. That'll kiss the ground she walks on.

Those rich boys don't know what they're missing. If he was in their position, he wouldn't let you work yourself to the bone, wouldn't let you put up with a work environment you hate. Wouldn't let you come home stressed.

Too bad I'm just the dog-sitter, huh? He chuckles.

When he arrives at his apartment, he barely has time to swing off his jacket, and step out of his shoes before his phone buzzes in his inner pocket. His work phone.

He ruffles with the jacket in his gasp and when he flips it open, all the messages say are:

"Sent. No need to follow up."

and

"This guy is done lol"

Toji smirks before he carelessly tosses the phone onto the kitchen counter. Flops himself onto his couch. Grinning with the knowledge that tomorrow, you're gonna have a great day.

And a great day, you most certainly have. You were barely in your office thirty minutes before, Lucy, your sweet assistant came racing in, squealing your name.

"What is it?" You asked, she was beaming like a child on Christmas.

Lucy attempted to contain herself, and stood straight with a faux air of professionalism, "He's gone." She giggles. "He's fired!"

You gasp. Surely not... "He...?" You question. No name is needed. The bastard was infamous.

She just nods her head with a huge smile.

You stand. Slam your hands on your desk. Then spin around and laugh.

Lucy squeals again and the two of you lock eyes, and embrace.

It had been too long. And it wasn't only you who had experience with harassment from the man. This was a win for virtually everyone in the company that wasn't in ownership.

"What-" You gulp air, "What was it? What finally did it?" Getting the question out.

She shakes her head and shrugs dramatically. "Not sure, nobody knows and the associates won't say."

Your brows furrow... "Really? Well, something must have happened..." You muse, "I wish I could see him packing his things now. Bet he's got some intern doing it form him."

"Oh, I'm sure. I just wish I knew what he did to finally lose grace with the company..."

You too were curious, but your overwhelming joy overrode that curiosity.

You felt free. Like you could be fulfilled at work now. A weight you hadn't known was there feels suddenly lifted and oddly, you want to cry.

It's a fact of life that when you receive good news, you want to share it with those around you. So why is it, that the first person you think of as your heart jumps for joy is the dog-sitter?

God, you were lonely.

You hope he doesn't feel burdened by your closeness.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

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the-s1lly-corner · 7 months ago

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Sharing the bed with various CRP characters 1/2

Same song and dance as the cuddling post! If theres any characters you want to see, let me know! If theres also any specific scenarios you want to see dont hesitate to drop them, love doing these kinds of posts

Characters: Slenderman, Splendorman, Eyeless Jack, Laughing Jack, Masky, Hoodie, Jeff, Puppeteer

Notes: Reader is GN, can be seen as romantic or platonic

CWs: mentions of blood but it's nothing huge, better safe than sorry though

Slenderman

He hardly ever crawls into bed with you, on nights where he is with you he tends to linger in the corner- or if you insist, he will take a seat on the foot of your bed if you feel the first was.. creepy.. not that this solution is any better- he is never going to lay down, thus, with a broken heart I have to give him the first rating of 1/10, with his only saving grace that he will protect you should anything happen

Splendorman

Unlike his fellow slenderbeing, Splendor is more than willing to crawl into bed and try to lay with you! It's a bit of a tight fit, though, even with him manipulating his body as small as it can get... it can get a little uncomfortable, unfortunately. And spirit can only make someone so comfortable.. 3/10

Eyeless Jack

I personally headcanon that hes on the shorter side- 5'5 to 5'7, so thankfully space isnt an issue! He runs cold, so if the nights are hot hes a good option for a cuddle buddy! But how is he in his sleep? He sleeps like a rock- he doesnt move or shift around all that much so you're unlikely to be disturbed! He.. does snore, though, or at least that's what it loosely is. Its more like gurgling due to any of his gripping goo getting into his throat- not a good noise.. will wake up coughing and spluttering.. 5/10, a pretty average sleeping experience

Laughing Jack

He doesnt need to sleep and he can only pretend sleep for so long before he gets antsy- it takes him a while to understand that you need your sleep and how much you need. He doesnt mind staying in bed and cuddling with you to pass the time- hes very large, warm, and comfy so it's not a terrible set up! Sometimes pretends sleep, complete with a fake snore. A little big for the bed at I feet tall, and sometimes snatches the blanket to fully sell the "fake sleep" thing as well as rag dolling on you 6/10

Masky

He doesnt sleep around you, it's just a little quirk of his that he doesnt let his guard down at all- he doesnt exactly distrust you but its.. complicated. Hesitant when you offer to let him crawl into bed with you, he's rather fond of the little perch hes made in the corner of your room, but you cannot deny that he looks like a sleep paralysis demon to your fuzzy sleepy brain. Still as a corpse in bed, WILL yank the blanket back if you steal it in your sleep 7/10 not very disruptive otherwise

Hoodie

Will crawl into bed with you and get up close to you, loves pulling you close to him during the night. Falls asleep after you do, though he probably watches you in your sleep... smells like wet leaves and mulch 7.5/10, he let's you take his hoodie sometimes or even just crawl into it with him. Does not give a shit if it gets stretched out he can always get another one. Sleeps between you and the door to the bedroom

Jeff

Heavy sleeper and he snores loud, so good luck with that. Probably also a blanket thief. Bounces between staying up all night or falling asleep the second he hits the bed- really it depends on what hes been up to... at least he usually has the manners to take his bloodstained hoodie off before crawling into your bed.. probably kicks in his sleep.. 4/10

Puppeteer

Very hard and very cold, and I don't think he would need to sleep but can if he desires. Wants to be the one cuddled, just make sure to bundle up with some extra blankets so you can stay warm! Doesnt snore but you can hear his joints creak with each movement- you know, puppet stuff.. 5/10, not terrible but not spectacular

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta imagine #slenderman x reader #Splendorman x reader #eyeless jack x reader #laughing jack x reader #masky x reader #hoodie x reader #jeff the killer x reader #puppeteer x reader

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smusherina · 7 months ago

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yard work - chapter 16 [final chapter] (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warning(s): talk of past drug use and withdrawal symptoms.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 10 / chapter 11 / chapter 12 / chapter 13 / chapter 14 / chapter 15

[love renée but fuck am i getting sick of this gif. been looking at it for sixteen goshdarned chapters. finally i am freed.]

You woke up first. Naturally. Every time, every single morning that you'd had sleepovers, you'd been the first to wake up. The sun was shining through the blinds in a pleasant, warm yellow tone. Still morning but not unreasonably early.

You shifted to a more upright position, looking down at the girl still snoozing, whose hand was holding onto your forearm. She was all sprawled out, starfished as much as one could be on a couch. Her body was taking up the shorter end of the L-shape, one knee curled up towards her body, just barely on the couch, while the other stretched well beyond the end of the divan. You were situated much the same, except the other way around. You laid on the longer end so that your heads had almost met in the corner.

Her arms reached out towards you, one around your pillow and the other holding onto you. You knew you'd fallen asleep with much more distance between you, but you couldn't say you minded her having drifted.

Did you, though? You sighed and grumbled as you got up. Might as well do something while you contemplated reality, or something. Mrs George had insisted on some classic American breakfast ingredients, such as bacon and pancake mix. You didn't feel like causing a fire hazard, so pancakes were a no-go, at least for now. Eggs and bacon you could do.

What did you even, like, want? Realistically, actually, no, unrealistically what did you want? There was no sense in trying to make your base wants and desires realistic because at that point was any of that yours anymore? Likely not.

You wanted nights spent with Regina, talking and eating take-out, laughing until your tummy hurt and looking at her glowing in the blue light of whatever Adult Swim show was on at the time. You wanted grocery trips with Mrs George and to go to Kylie's games. You wanted people at school to just, simply not be jerks. You wanted Janis to find peace. You wanted Cady to wake up.

You wanted yesterday to not have happened. You wanted Thanksgiving dinner at the Georges' to never have happened. You wanted for your dad to be different, for Mr George to be different. You wanted your mom to not have died.

Looking at the bacon sizzling in the pan, you chewed on your lips and thought about that. You wanted many things. So many things, mostly for things to not have happened or to have happened differently. It was all wildly unrealistic. You were not a wizard, a time-traveller, or some other mystic being. You were a teenager.

You cracked the eggs into the mix. God, it smelled divine. You pulled a salt and pepper shaker from the spice rack and sprinkled a reasonable amount on there. You groaned out loud and threw your head back when you remembered there was sriracha in the fridge. Mrs George had seen you eyeing the bottle and had not taken a no for an answer, despite your abundant protestations.

"Spare your kitchen utensils the horror and go masturbate in your room like a normal person!" Regina hollered from the living room.

"Oh! Spatula! Harder! Harder!" You cried, moaning like you were receiving the blowie of your life. "If you want breakfast you're gonna have to witness this sordid affair." You called back, giggling. You leaned back from the stove, bending back at the waist. Regina was leaning her chin on the armrest, still more or less sprawled on your couch. There was a pout on her lips and a light flush to her cheeks.

"I'll show you sordid, nerd." She grouched before getting up. You straightened your posture, turning back to the stove, and probed the eggs in the pan with the spatula with a satisfied grin on your face.

You wanted this and more, above all. Was that something you were allowed to want? More importantly, was that something you were allowed to ask for?

Regina came up behind you, hand coming to rest on the small of your back. You didn't jump, much, which you were proud of.

"Looks yummy." She pointed out.

You hummed in agreement. "Can you put toast in the toaster?"

"Sure."

Then, as if no time at all passed, you were sitting down. Then eating and chatting. There was toast, eggs and bacon, and you'd made yourself a bowl of oatmeal. Mrs George had splurged on some blueberries and local honey. Regina refused to make eye contact when you were chewing, citing that your O-face was hard to look at. You only moaned louder and made more faces at her.

Then, just as you were heading to the couch to digest the meal as god intended, lying down, Regina yanked you to the foyer. Still in your jammies and everything, she insisted you bundle up and go for that walk she was talking about yesterday.

You'd hoped she would've forgotten. Sure, the weather was nice for once but if you didn't have to go outside then why would you? It was below freezing!

Much like her mother, she would not budge. You were going on a walk.

"What am I? A dog?" You muttered as you wrapped your scarf around your neck.

"If you were a dog, you'd be a... A Doberman." She was already dressed. It was odd for your roles to have switched like this. Usually, you were the one waiting for her to get ready. She had on a thick, white parka and a cute beanie. She also had on black leggings sure to insulate absolutely nothing and bulky, also black, fur boots.

"What? 'Cause I'm big and scary?" You preened at that, smiling widely.

"Nope." She tilted her head, examining you. "Gloves."

"Geez, okay, mom." You grabbed some mittens from the hat rack. "Why Doberman?"

"They wouldn't look so scary if they didn't have their ears clipped, y'know?" She said. You just looked at her weirdly, not catching her meaning. Your ears were not clipped. "Anyway, let's go."

"Aye aye," With that, you were out of the door.

You walked the block and down to the street. The sidewalk stopped so you went by the side of the road. She was walking ahead of you. It was cold out but not too windy, so it didn't feel so bad.

The sidewalk started again eventually. There, you walked side by side. You were just looking at a bird perched on a wire when you felt her grab your hand. Thinking she had something to say, you turned to look at her. She was still facing forward, the other hand in her pocket, walking along. She was just holding your hand.

Oh. Oh. She was holding your hand. Out in public. Not a lot of people were out at this hour, not even cars since it was a weekend. There was a woman with a stroller. A psychopathic man out on a jog. A dog walker. Still, it was outside where anyone who walked by could see.

You arrived at the park, hands clasped together. You stopped by a bench.

"I don't think we should sit." You said, observing the coating of snow piled on top.

"Let's go over there." Regina pointed to a tree a little ways away.

You went obediently, following the tug of her hand in yours. She was holding your hand. You felt all warm in your chest, like you were full of warm water.

You stopped by the tree. She looked around, trying to spot if anybody was nearby. Then, like she had a secret to tell you, she motioned for you to bend down closer. You did. Her hand squeezed at your fingers as the other came up to your neck, pulling you down the rest of the way.

The warmth you'd felt became hot, like an oil fire erupting in the foil-covered saucepan that was your heart, kernels and half-popped popcorn sputtering out as she kissed you. Your eyes just barely got to shutter closed before she pulled away. Instinctively, your body so starved of affection and touch, you chased her and found her lips again.

She smiled against your mouth. It felt like a secret of the utmost importance being shared, like a pinkie finger wrapped around your own in the corner of the room during a sleepover, giggled promises and childish adoration. She tasted vaguely like breakfast, and maybe egg-breath should've been nasty, but it wasn't.

Cold seeping in, the anxious feeling like you were soon going to be caught taking hold, you pulled away. You didn't lean away entirely, crowding her against the tree. When you'd gotten so close, pinned her, you weren't sure.

"Do..." What were you supposed to say post-kiss? "Do you like it sloppy?"

"What?" Her brows furrowed and the smile on her face turned sharper. What to say post-kiss: Not That.

"Uh, I mean, I just- uh..." You swallowed. "I don't know how to, like, I don't have technique. I dunno. Was that good? I saw Aaron was doing it differently..."

Regina rolled her eyes, head thumping lightly against the tree as her neck lolled back. "You would bring up Aaron now." She sighed. "It's fine. It's- it's good."

"Okay." You swallowed again. A slow smile crept up to your face. "It was good?"

"Ugh, yes, shut up." She shoved you away, but you just allowed the momentum to swing you back to her. "I... I don't think I'm good at words."

You chuckled at that. "No, you're not." She glared. You shrugged. "But, hey, you know me. I'm Chatty Kathy."

"No," She huffed through her nose, seemingly in frustration. "I wish I could say to you what I mean. What I feel. But I just... It's... It's not supposed to be but it's embarrassing."

Looking at her, hunched in on herself like a girl her age was supposed to be at times, so different from how she was most of the time, made your chest feel tight. You figured a person having been raised like she was, having turned out the way she had, would find being vulnerable uncomfortable. Or, as she said it, embarrassing.

Then again, it wasn't your place nor your duty to psycho-analyze her.

"Reg, I..." You hesitated. "I'm tired of, like, sitting in the passenger seat while you bulldoze everyone. I'm tired of feeling like if I do something you don't like you'll push me under too." You pulled away from her, hands getting sore from leaning your weight against the rough bark. "And then there's this whole thing." You gestured around you at the empty park. "Even if we were the best couple ever in terms of, I dunno, vibes or something, we're still..."

"Lesbians." She finished for you. "I'm a lesbian, Jorts." A sentence you never thought you'd hear from Regina George. "I know. For me, it felt justified for a long time, keeping them in their place, but since we started talking again, doing all that stuff just started to seem... Unimportant. And stupid." She fiddled with her fingers, eyes glued to the space between you. "It hasn't gone away. I still want to, I guess, hurt people because it does make me feel better even if it's, like, fucked up. But I want something else more than I want that."

"What's that?" You couldn't help but ask, hope stuck in your throat. Choking hazard.

"You, obviously." She said it so flippantly as if those words didn't just send your heart into the Milky Way. "I want you. I'll stop doing that stuff for you. I know we can't be out yet, but I... I have good grades."

You looked at her, puzzled. She huffed and continued. "I'll go to college. Major in, uh, I dunno, some sorta politics and I'll change the law. Maybe a law degree would work better for that, actually." She seemed to think about it for a moment before returning to her point. "Whichever one would be best in getting gay marriage legalized."

"You..." You had to laugh at that, disbelieving as well as delighted. "You're gonna change the world for me?"

"If that's what it takes." She said, determination shining so bright it made your eyes water.

"Wow, okay." You licked your lips, trying to will the stupid grin off your face. You had some important questions still. "If I moved away, would you still stop?"

She paused at that. Took a moment to really look at you, like she hadn't considered that to be a real possibility.

"Yes." She sounded so sure you believed her. "I just don't have... What it takes anymore. I guess. I don't know if there's something wrong with me that I... I want to be mean, sometimes. It's funny. For me." She glanced down and then looked somewhere over your shoulder. "It took a lot of work to get to what Regina George is now. I don't want to put in all that next year."

"Y'know what they say. New year, new me." You quipped, looking down at her. You were quite sure your pupils had morphed into heart shapes, despite your valiant efforts to have this meaningful conversation without seeming like a love-drunk idiot.

(She kissed you. You kissed her. It was a beautiful morning, you were on a walk and you'd held hands and then you'd kissed under a barren willow tree. It was the first day of Christmas break and you were spending it with Regina George.)

"Does that mean I can be a raging bitch till January 1st?" She asked, eyebrow notching.

You laughed. "Only if you..." You bit your bottom lip, getting nervous. "Only if I get a kiss for every mean thing you say."

"Deal." She offered her hand to you, a cheesy smile on her face.

You pulled your glove off and spit on your hand, then made to take hers.

"Ew! That's disgusting!" She flinched away from you, violently shoving herself back against the tree. "Don't- no! Not near me! Don't touch me with that!"

She bolted and you ran after her, cackling maniacally. You waved your spat-on hand at her as you chased her around the park, her shrieking and you laughing.

"I'm serious, J!" She looked at you over her shoulder as she ran. "Stop chasing me!"

"Stop running away from me!"

"You're just gonna smear your spit on me, you- you fiend!"

"Pinky swear I won't!"

"I won't pinky-swear with your disgusting paws, you-"

With a yelp, Regina tripped over something, probably a root, and fell to the ground. You, having been closing in on her, put the brakes on, windmilled your arms, and tried to stop, but soon followed her into the snow.

"Ouf!" The breath wooshed out of her as you fell on her. She wheezed as you rolled off of her, half-heartedly punching in your direction. You giggled and dodged to the best of your ability, not even minding the snow seeping through your pyjama pants.

Giving some time for her to recover, you laid on your back and looked up at the sky. Clear blue with some thick, greyish clouds looming in the peripheral, morning was turning to day fast. Soon, the park would surely get some more traffic. Kids and their adults, mostly. There was a sizeable play area in the centre. You were pretty much on the outskirts of the park.

It was a familiar spot. You and the guys used to meet your other friends here all the time. Those times it'd been night, too dark to see the faces of the guys with big gym bags, filled to bursting with little plastic baggies and glass bottles.

You turned your head to look at her once her breathing had quieted down.

"You bitch," She hissed at you, the usual venom in her voice gone, replaced by exhaustion. You could only smile, somewhat sheepish but mostly just happy.

"It'd be a lot harder to resist if we were still in school, y'know." You said, turning back to watch the sky. "You can't change the law until we graduate. Until then, we're stuck here. And then, let's say you do change the law and it's passed, it's gonna take some time for people to accept that."

"Yeah," Regina agreed, folding her arms under her chin to lean on.

"And you can say that you'll change a hundred times easily, but actually doing it is different."

"When did you get so wise?"

"When I was all alone for years and did some stupid stuff."

"Like what?" You could tell she wouldn't be expecting what you said next. Even you weren't expecting it.

"You know how I sell drugs and alcohol, right? Where do you think I get the stuff from? I got to know some people while we weren't talking." You sighed. Remembering those times, the worst of them, still so fresh despite it having been years, wasn't nice. "Vandalism, underage drinking, shoplifting, driving without a licence... Did some harder drugs than weed... Stupid shit. I stopped most of it when I got caught the last time and almost went to juvie. Dad got me out, somehow. Probably threw money at people."

You turned your head to look at Regina. She was already paying keen attention to you. "I told my mandated therapist I was gonna change. I said I wasn't going to ever do anything like that ever again. I lied, of course."

"When did you actually stop, then?" She asked.

"Months after the mandated therapy was over." You put your hands in your pockets, getting cold. "I wanted to do it before then. I wanted to just, not be that. A druggie fifteen-year-old spraypainting some dilapidated trailer, hanging around guys that were way too old to be hanging around me. I didn't want to be that but at the same time being anything else was terrifying. I don't think highly of myself, but that was low even for me. Then, Mrs George found me one time."

"Mom?" The question was more out of shock than actual inquiry.

"Yeah." You blinked a couple of times. "I was in a bad state. Withdrawals. I made her promise she wouldn't tell my dad if I allowed her to take me home. She was talking the whole ride from downtown to mine, trying to keep me awake. I just lost it. I don't remember what I said or exactly what I did, but she had to pull over and restrain me." You gulped. "It was awful. Then she offered that I could mow your lawn for some money. I used it the first couple of times to get a new dose. She used to ask what I'd be spending it on and those times I had some bullshit excuse, but the first time I said I was probably gonna get some McDonalds', she cried. Cried real actual tears." You didn't feel like looking at Regina, but you could feel her eyes on the side of your head. "After that it just... It wasn't worth it."

"You never told me." Regina breathed out, still sounding shocked.

"I didn't want to." You turned onto your side, body facing her. "I was- am ashamed."

You didn't feel shame now, though. You undoubtedly would later, tomorrow perhaps, but not now. You were glad for it. You regretted it, wished you hadn't gone down that road, but lying there in the cold snow there was only indifference. That had happened. You had done that.

"Me too." She whispered. "Obviously, it's not the same, but-"

"I know what you mean. And it could be more similar than you think. Quitting an addiction is hard, but I wouldn't say quitting a behaviour is easy."

"It's stupid to compare drug addiction to being a bitch." Regina huffed, a frown on her face. "It's incomparable."

"Well, then let's not compare. Both can be hard in their own way without diminishing the other. What I'm trying to point out is that," You thought for a moment. "We're both trying to get over a bad, toxic habit that feels safe and good and like the only option, without seeing the merit or the other supposedly better option first. It's scary."

"Are you still trying to get over it?"

"I haven't been on drugs since, no. But it's not something that goes away. Not ever."

"And you're still kinda in it." She said, remembering your hustle around the school.

"Yeah. I can't expect you to be all buddy-buddy with everybody suddenly. That'd be hypocritical."

"So what do we do?"

What a question. One that you did not have the answer to. You didn't feel unsettled by the confusion. You hadn't told anyone of your dark past (gosh, could you be any more emo?) since those that knew had just kind of stumbled across it, so telling somebody felt... Good. You'd just sort of blurted it all out without thinking about it too much.

"Can we go back home? I wanna..." You stopped, realizing I wanna make out with you on the couch sounded awfully crude.

A lecherous grin spread Regina's cheeks. "Oh, I see. You just want me for my body."

"No!" You denied, indignant. "I would never."

"You would never want me for my body." She reiterated, purposefully misconstruing what you said. "Wow. Just wow."

"Regina, c'mon, I just mean..."

"Say what you were gonna say." She rolled away and up, towering above you with a twinkling smile pointed down at your prone body.

"Let's just go," You said and tried to get up. Like some bondage dominatrix, she pushed you back down with a shoe on your chest.

You hated how that sort of got to you. Your heart beat faster against her Ugg. Hopefully, she didn't feel it through the thick sole.

"Nuh-uh. Say it."

"I... I wanna make..." You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. "I wanna go home and make out with you on the couch."

"Oh, that wasn't so hard, now was it, baby? Let's go."

It was only once you'd made it back, chucked your wet clothes into the hamper, and spent a considerable amount of time in liplock, that either of you thought to circle back.

"Hey," Regina said, adjusting her weight to not be leaning on you so heavily. Your lips smacked apart and, gosh, now you were the gross ones. "I just now realized,"

"What are you realizing while you're supposed to be kissing me?" You pouted, falling onto your side and away from her. Your hand went over your eyes like you were a swooning maiden. Regina just patted your leg in mock consolation.

"You have your drug thing-" Only she would refer to your past addiction as your drug thing. "but I was, like, the only one doing anything actually wrong. Actively. You know what I mean." You craned your neck to look at her. Your double chin was probably epic.

"I lied to you by omission. I was really mean to you on Thanksgiving."

"Okay, lying by omission was bad and never do that again," She paused, waiting for you to affirm. You nodded solemnly. "But you were only mean after I was mean first. So, both forgiven. Anyway, I'm talking, like... I don't know how to say it."

You blinked. You didn't know what she meant so you couldn't really help. Regina huffed, nails scratching absent-mindedly on your calves.

"You made it sound like we were both wrong for how things exploded." She eventually said. "That was all me."

"I shouldn't have been such a doormat. I let you walk all over me and I never said anything about how I really felt."

"I don't think you can be in the wrong for that."

"I think I can be. At least the way that I was. I could've said something."

"And what would that've achieved? Me cutting you off and nothing changing?"

You clambered up to your elbows. "And now we're here." You smiled, one side a little crooked with how gleeful you were. "Look, we can hash everything out during the break, now just... Let's focus on other things."

Regina, still looking conflicted, caressed a hand up your leg. You shivered. You were in just a hoodie and loose briefs. Regina was more covered up than you, but still in just your old basketball shorts and a big band tee.

"Reggie, I'm getting used to asking for things I shouldn't want. Amuse me." You turned onto your back and hooked your legs around Regina. She fell forward, hands braced on either side of your torso. "Kiss me."

"I just don't want to mess up and have all this go away." She swallowed, a worried crease between her eyebrows.

"I think we're gonna mess up plenty of times. It's a possibility you'll find some justification to make somebody's life hell for a time. I could relapse." You pulled her closer with your legs, arms coming up to cross your fingers behind her neck. "A lot of the time we're not gonna want to admit it, we might not even know it. So, we can lay out a few... Promises, or something."

"Okay," Regina said, gazing down at you like you never imagined. Like you meant things to her. Important things.

"Promise me that you'll listen. Even if you disagree, please hear me out." She nodded seriously. "And, in turn, I promise to speak my mind. When I don't like something, or just like something, I'll say so." Again, she nodded. You loosened your hold on her neck and rubbed your thumbs on her cheeks. Getting to touch her like this, having her literally between your legs, was more than you ever thought you'd get.

Even if this ended in a similar fashion to the Thanksgiving kiss, or even much, much worse, you'd have regretted not taking the chance for the rest of your life.

"And... This is the most important one... Come closer."

Regina shifted closer, bending down, her elbows coming to rest next to your chest as she turned her ear towards you.

You whispered conspiratorially, like this was top-secret: "Still let me do your yard work."

Notes: Fucking christ. I wrote this all in one sitting. 4.3k words. That's like two chapters. I've written long chapters before, longer than this, but I got so used to the 2k on average pace that this felt huge.

Also! Don't be spooked by the [final chapter] marking! This is the last chapter in the story, yes, but we'll be hearing more from Reggie and Jorts still! I have a couple of epilogue sequences I want to write. Would y'all be interested in a poll as to what order those should be published? As in, chronological. Do we start from 10 Years Later... or something more like, idk, next summer? Lmk in the comments :)

This might be counterintuitive to add, and if my lovely amazing readers have exercised their reading comprehension during this series they might get why on a more nuanced level, revenge on Gretchen was left out purposefully. This will not be the last we hear of her, I have some plans for her in some of the epilogues, but yes. That plot point was left open on purpose.

The name. A lot of people like it! I was feeling insecure about my lack of foresight and impulsive naming, but hey, as it turns out it's not that deep! To add, it went really nicely with the end there I think :) No changes will be happening.

This note is getting so long. I just wanna thank everybody that's been along for the ride so far. I read every single comment and check my notifications way too often for new ones. I'm pretty used to writing for quite dead/inactive fandoms on AO3, and I love that site it's my origin, but it's very different to Tumblr. I just feel like people on here are much more open to sharing their thoughts. Everybody who's bore witness to my grief with the taglist, thank you for your patience. And thank you so much for wanting to be on it. I cannot believe people wanted that. For little ole me? Oh, you shouldn't have...

If there are spelling errors or grammatical weirdness, shhh. I'm not reading all that again at 1am. Toodles!

Taglist will be posted separately! Comment on that post if you want to be added to be notified when the epilogies are published!

#mean girls #mean girls 2004 #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george x oc #regina george x ofc #mean girls x reader #lesbian regina george #wlw #fic: yard work

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deadhands69 · 2 months ago

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Something More [than a hangover]

Katsuki Bakugo x gn reader

MDNI + eventual smut/afab

Setting: fuckboy!Bakugo, mid-time skip, Senior Year of College. Reader did not attend UA high, just joined for university. Enemies to lovers (with a lot in between.)

Warnings, etc: series contains eventual smut, slight angst, light violence/injuries, mentions of drinking/intoxication, swearing.

part 1 - this is part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8

“Oh my god, what was I thinking,” you grumble into Jiro’s bed. You’d been lying there face down for twenty minutes after waking up, remembering your night, and stumbling down the hall to her dorm.

“It’s not that bad, right?” she reassures you, lightly untangling the knots in your hair with her fingers. “I’ve known him since high school. He definitely takes things too far sometimes, but he can be a good friend. He seems to have changed a lot in some ways since then though. But still, it’s not like you did anything with him…?”

“I don’t think so…” you trail off, “I think I’d remember that.”

Last night. You remember being in a closet with Katsuki Bakugo, which for some reason unknown to you now, you enjoyed more than you should have. You remember drinking with him, talking all night, and - that’s about where your memory ends. Checking your texts, it looks like you wanted to kiss him. Did you? You’d remember that right?

Then there’s the photo you sent Mina and Jiro. Blurry and underexposed but you could definitely make out the situation. His arm around you as you lean into his neck, glossy eyes half closed but focused on him. His huge smile as he leans into you. You looked close. A wave of nausea hit again, sending you running to her bathroom.

It’s Katsuki Bakugo, what the fuck were you thinking?

After pulling your hair back, Jiro leaves to grab you a cup of water.

“Hey, uh,” she hesitantly starts, “maybe not the best timing but Bakugo just texted you to make sure you’re still on for the library today.”

“Ughh I do not want to deal with him,” your voice echoes through the bathroom.

“I can tell him you need to reschedule?”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll have to meet up with him eventually. Might as well rip the bandaid off.”

An hour later, you’d showered as well as you could after taking off your bandages (or what was left of them, it looked like you snagged them in the brush on the walk home.) The cold water helped the nausea and some of the pain. Dehydration made the remaining burns feel much worse so you try to drink as much water as you can keep down. Your raw and slightly blistered skin looks brutal but it’ll be better when you can visit Recovery Girl again on Monday. A few tylenol for your headache and pain, that was about all you could do for now.

Choosing an outfit, you put on basically what he made you change out of last night - skinny jeans and a huge hoodie, this time with cute sneakers in your favorite color. No makeup today, you throw on some oversized sunglasses instead. Grabbing an extra cup of coffee and your backpack, you head to the library.

Bakugo is already there. Leaning against a pillar, looking way too put together for the amount you saw him drink last night.

“Aww, you look great,” he says sarcastically as you half drag yourself to meet him.

“Ughh. How are you alive right now?” you groan back.

“I threw up twice, ate a lot, and slept it off. Looks like you didn’t.”

No words come to mind so you flip him off.

“You’re sweet when you’re hungover, this will be so fun,” he gestures towards the entrance, “come on, I already reserved a study room.”

In spite of being an asshole, he proceeds to hold doors for you.

The study room is small but quiet. There’s enough room for the two of you to sit on one side of the table with the notes and writings you’ve done on each other’s quirks, it’s not much. Each of the pages is crinkled from some combination of being passed back and forth between being on the receiving end of outbursts. Various colors of ink have crossed out each other’s writing, adding corrections. At least the quirk descriptions are done. You’d love to say the rest has been easier to work on in person but an hour and a half has dragged by without much progress. Still hungover, you wish you would have stayed in bed.

His phone sits on the table, buzzing with a new message. Glancing down, you notice five unchecked messages from three different girls' names.

You laugh and he silences his phone before setting it back on the table, this time face-down.

“Didn’t learn from last night, huh?”

“Eh, I dealt with it this morning when she was sober. Plus, it was an isolated incident,” he grumbles while you notice the tips of his ears turning red.

“Sure it was. Well,” you continue, ”when it happens next time, and I’m sure it will, I won’t be so nice and let you in my hiding spot.”

“Oh, your spot? Because if I remember correctly, I got there first. And I let you stay.”

“Aren’t you sooo sweet,” you lay on the phony niceness, batting your eyelashes at him before he throws it back.

“I really am,” his fake smile makes your heart flutter.

What. The. Fuck.

Back to our regularly scheduled sarcasm.

“Is that so? I’ll bet your mom must be really proud of you.”

“She is,” he asserts, “really. My mom is so fucking proud of me. Want me to call her and ask?” He picks his phone up to start dialing and you swear she’s saved as ‘Hag.’

“No, I take your word for it.”

Part of you is curious who raised the monster next to you, but most of you would like to be out of this room as fast as possible to figure your shit out. You really can’t tell if you’re annoyed, disgusted, or trying to flirt with him. All of the feelings blur together into one big mess while you helplessly watch your own reactions. You need to get through this.

Pulling your pen from behind your ear and grabbing one of the papers in front of you, you get back to work.

“So,” you begin before rolling your sleeves up, “right here you said your quirk works with...” but you realize quickly that your words fall on deaf ears. He’s staring at your arms, seeing your damaged skin for the first time. Awkwardly, you move to cover your wrists again before he grabs your hands to stop you. His mouth opens to speak but the words don’t come. Licking his lips, he tries again.

“I- uh, fuck,” he squeezes your hands a bit harder, “I really meant it when I said I’m sorry. I owe you. More than opening doors and walking you places and stuff.”

Recovery Girl is convinced you’ll make a full recovery with minimal scarring. You don’t say this though, staring at your hands in his instead. There’s nothing romantic about the way he’s holding onto you. More desperate and uncomfortable, but you can’t say the closeness doesn’t do something as his huge fists completely engulf your own. It leaves you speechless.

“I uhm…” you pull your hands away from his and pause to think.

You can’t let yourself get this distracted by him. He’s Katsuki Bakugo, your natural enemy. And on top of that, how long will he be nice to make-up for hurting you before he goes back to being his asshole self? If you let him get under your skin too much, you won’t be able to handle that when the time comes.

“I know why you’re being nice,” you start, “but two days ago you were being a total dick to me. I appreciate you trying to make up for everything, but it feels more confusing than friendly.”

“Two days ago, you weren’t exactly nice to me either. I know we never really became friends,” he hesitates for a moment and you cringe thinking of how you slapped him, “but you don’t know why I’m doing this.”

“Go on.”

“Yeah, at first it’s because I felt bad, but Racoon Eyes and Shitty Hair said we have a lot in common. And they’re right. I’m trying to be nicer because I don’t absolutely hate being around you, you’re kind of cool when you’re not going off on me.”

“You do deserve it sometimes,” you add.

Bakugo says nothing, instead he just nods. Sucking on the inside of his lip, he considers your comment before continuing, “If you don’t wanna be my friend it’s fine, just fucking say it,” you stare silently and he continues, “but with the way you’re acting I think that’s what you want too. And even if it’s not, we still have to find some way to work together because we have all this shit to do,” he says gesturing to the table of scribbled notes.

That’s it.

“Wait,” you nearly whisper while reviewing the papers in front of you, “no, that’s totally it.”

“Uh, care to explain?” he furrows his brows at you, his vivid eyes searching your face for an answer.

“That’s why this has been so hard to finish. We’ve never worked together. I know what your quirk does but every time I’ve ever seen it, we’ve been so busy trying to beat each other we don’t actually have time to observe. We need to work together.”

The rest of the hour went by quickly, mostly planning where and when to meet next. ‘Where’ was easy. You want to train together and the forest near campus works great. ‘When’ was harder. It has to be after you’re healed but before a huge storm rolls in early on Tuesday. Bakugo is leaving today to visit family and won’t be back until Monday afternoon anyways, so it has to be that night. You think you can sleep enough to recover after your appointment. You hope you can, at least. Parting ways at the library doors, you agree to text him Monday when you wake up.

On the walk back, you consider the last few days. Your biggest enemy now wants something like a friendship. A chill runs down your spine when the winter wind picks up, blowing air straight through your hoodie - making you wish you’d worn more layers. You walk faster.

Can you even be friends with Bakugo? Bickering with him has been a lot more fun without a bite under your words, but it almost feels too flirtatious considering who’s on the other end. And, as much as you hate to admit it, he’s hot. Too hot for his own stupid good.

You nearly trip over a curb in a rush to get back to your dorm.

Fuck, you need to sleep.

part 3

m.list

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snowysosturn · 3 months ago

Text

Speeding Car - Matt Sturniolo Part 17

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29

Pairing : y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary : After six years with your boyfriend Alex, you start to mentally check out. At a UCLA party, Alex reconnects with his childhood friend Emily, who proposes a double date with her boyfriend Matt. Your attraction to Matt grows as he pays you the first real attention you've had in years, sparking a complicated emotional journey.

Warnings : (This is the longest chapter so far, 5.2k words, warnings will contain spoilers!!) MDNI, angst, fluff, tension, slight arguing, cheating (dont do this) smut, p in v (protected!), guilt, also not fully proof read ill do that when I wake up in the morning lol

After a few more moments of soaking in the thrill of the evening, it was time to leave the rink. The cold air had seeped through our clothes, and the exhilaration of skating had left us both pleasantly tired. As we slowly made our way to the edge of the rink, I couldn’t help but glance back at the ice one last time. It had been years since I felt so alive, so connected to something I loved, with someone who was becoming more special to me with every passing moment.

Matt reached the edge first, turning around to offer me his hand as I approached. I took it without hesitation, his warmth cutting through the chill in the air. We stepped off the ice and walked over to the benches to change out of our skates. As we sat down, the silence between us was comfortable, filled with the unspoken understanding that tonight had been something special. I unlaced my skates, my fingers still tingling from the cold, and slipped back into my shoes. Matt did the same, occasionally glancing over at me with that easygoing smile that made my heart skip a beat.

Once we were both ready, we gathered our things and headed for the exit. The rink was eerily quiet now, the sound of our footsteps echoing softly through the empty space. As we reached the doors, Matt paused, as I turned to look at him with a playful glint in my eyes.

"Can I just say, I’m amazed with how good you are on the ice" I teased. "You’ve set the bar pretty high for our next hangout."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, so now there’s a bar I have to maintain? I see how it is."

I grinned, as Matt held the door open for me as we stepped out into the cool night air. "Well, you’ve definitely got me curious about what else you can do."

The parking lot was almost empty, the streetlights casting a soft glow over the cars. We walked toward his car, the night wrapping around us like a blanket.

As we reached his car, Matt opened the door for me, his hand lingering on the frame as he looked at me. For a moment, we just stood there, the unspoken connection between us stronger than ever. Then, with a soft smile, I slid into the passenger seat, and Matt closed the door behind me. He walked around to the driver’s side, and got in. As he started the engine, the car hummed to life, and we pulled out of the parking lot. The drive back was quieter than the drive there, but it wasn’t an awkward silence. Instead, it was the kind of silence that felt full, heavy with the memories of the night and the growing connection between us. Every now and then, Matt would glance over at me, a small smile playing on his lips.

He finally broke the silence, his voice soft “I honestly think you should get back into skating Y/n."

I laughed, turning to face him. "No I can't, it's too late now, I’ve missed the opportunity."

"It’s never too late, and from what I witnessed earlier on you still have it, it comes so naturally to you." He replied, his tone sincere. "Even I felt like I learned a lot from you, maybe I’ll become a figure skater now. You know, give you a run for your money."

"Ha, I’d like to see that" I said, rolling my eyes but smiling. "But seriously, it was really fun. I haven’t felt that free in a long time."

"I’m glad" he said, his eyes flickering toward me briefly before focusing back on the road. "You deserve to feel like that more often."

We fell into another easy silence, the sound of the road beneath us and the faint hum of music playing softly in the background. The city lights blurred past, and I found myself lost in thought, the events of the night replaying in my mind.

Before I knew it, we were pulling up to my apartment building. Matt slowed the car to a stop in front, the engine idling softly. He turned to me, his expression softer, more thoughtful now.

"I really enjoyed tonight, Y/n" he said, his voice low. "It was.. special."

"Yeah, it was.." I agreed, my heart beating a little faster as I looked at him. There was something in the air between us, a tension that had been building all night. Part of me wanted to close the gap, to see what it would be like to kiss him, to let this connection go where it felt like it wanted to.

But before I could act on the thought, the car’s dashboard lit up with an incoming call. A serious sense of deja vu running through my body. Emily’s name flashed across the screen, and just like that, the moment shattered.

I blinked, the reality of everything crashing back into place. I knew I was breaking up with Alex, but to him, the relationship wasn’t over yet. He was clueless about what was coming, about what he had done to push me away, and the fact that I know what he’s done. As for Matt, things were different. He didn’t know about Emily’s betrayal, how she had basically ended their relationship with what she did with Alex.

Matt glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening slightly. He ignored the call, but seconds later, it rang again, Emily’s name glaring at us from the dashboard. I took it as a sign, a reminder that whatever was happening between us, it wasn’t the right time. Not yet.

"I should go.." I said softly, unbuckling my seatbelt and reaching for the door handle.

Matt looked at me, something unspoken passing between us, but he nodded. "Okay" he replied, his voice laced with disappointment. "Goodnight, Y/n.”

"Goodnight, Matt," I said, giving him a small smile before I opened the door and slid out of the car. I paused for a moment, looking back at him as he finally answered the phone. His voice was low, and I could hear the tension in his tone as he spoke to Emily.

I turned away, walking up the steps to my apartment, each step feeling heavier than the last. The night had been perfect, almost magical, but it ended on a note that brought me right back to reality. As I reached my door, I couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened if things were different, if we were both free to explore whatever this was between us without the shadows of our current situations looming over us.

But for now, all I could do was disappear into the night, leaving Matt to deal with his own tangled mess as I tried to untangle mine.

Matt's POV

Standing outside Y/n’s door, I felt a mix of excitement and nerves. I hadn’t planned on showing up unannounced, but after yesterday, I couldn't stop thinking about her. I wanted to do something special, something that she loved, like skating. When she opened the door, I couldn’t help but smile at the surprise on her face.

“Hey, sorry for just appearing… Are you free for the night?” I asked, trying to sound casual, though my heart was racing.

She stood there, clearly debating whether to mention something, maybe that she already had plans. But before she could respond, I knew I had ro say something else, I really wanted the plans I’d made to happen, “I have a bit of a surprise for you.”

I could see the curiosity spark in her eyes as she nodded. I felt a surge of relief. This was going to be good.

In the car, she kept asking where we were going, but I just grinned and told her my lips were sealed. When I mentioned it would be an hour's drive, she looked at me like I was crazy, but the way she smiled told me she didn’t mind. I suggested she jump on aux, and soon we were caught up in a back and forth of sharing songs. Each song she played gave me a glimpse into her world, her taste, and it felt like we were connecting on a level I hadn’t expected.

When she saw the sign for LA Kings Valley Ice Centre, the way her eyes lit up was worth every second of planning.

“We’re going skating?” she asked, clearly excited.

I nodded, feeling a bit proud of myself. “I was serious when I said I wanted to learn how to spin.”

Her excitement was contagious. “This is where I used to go to skate school,” she said, and I could hear the nostalgia in her voice. She kept thanking me, but honestly, seeing her this happy was thanks enough.

Renting the place wasn’t an issue to me, I wanted to make sure it was just us there. The look of surprise and gratitude on her face made me feel like I’d done something right. Something she needed.

We laced up our skates and hit the ice. I could tell she was expecting me to be a total mess out there, but when I glided smoothly beside her, she looked genuinely surprised.

“Woah, you can skate?” she asked.

“Played hockey for years” I replied with a grin, enjoying the way she looked at me, maybe seeing me in a different light.

She teased me about my skating skills, so naturally, we decided to race. We lined up at one end of the rink, and I couldn’t help but notice how she looked - confident, poised, and honestly, really attractive. We took off, laughing as we pushed ourselves to go faster. She won, of course, but it didn’t matter. The way she laughed as she reached the other end made me feel like I’d won something else entirely.

After the race, she finally started to teach me how to spin. I watched closely as she walked me through the steps, focusing on her movements, her voice. When I tried it myself, I was nervous, I wanted to impress her and honestly, I wasn’t half bad, but nothing compared to the way she moved. When she started doing her old moves, I was in awe. She still had it, the grace, the skill. It was mesmerizing to watch.

I couldn’t stop watching her, how she has so much potential with skating, how it looked like she’d never stopped doing it, I was in absolute awe. The connection between us grew with every moment we spent on that ice. I didn’t want the night to end, but eventually, we had to leave.

On the drive back, the atmosphere in the car was different, calmer, more intimate. We talked about the night, about how much fun it was, I really want to push her to skate again. I wished I could erase the day she ever stopped doing it because I can see what those few hours meant for her. I could feel the tension building again, like it had when we were at the rink. I kept glancing at her, wondering if she was feeling the same way I was.

As we pulled up to her apartment, I felt this urge to kiss her, to see if what I was feeling was real. We sat there for a moment, talking, and I could tell she was thinking about it too. But then my phone lit up with a call from Emily, and the moment was gone.

I cursed under my breath as I saw her name flash on the screen. The timing couldn’t have been worse. I ignored the call, hoping we could get back to where we were, but she called again. I could see the shift in Y/n, the way she pulled back slightly, the way reality crashed back down on both of us.

She opened the passenger door, giving me a small smile, the kind that didn’t reach her eyes, and said goodnight. I wanted to stop her, to tell her that this wasn’t the end of the night I wanted, but I couldn’t find the words.

I watched her disappear into her apartment, the weight of everything settling on my shoulders as I finally answered Emily’s call, her voice came through loud and clear.

“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you, Matt.”

I sighed, gripping the steering wheel tightly. “I was driving, my phone wasn’t connected properly. Didn’t think it was safe to answer while I was on the road.”

“Driving where? You didn’t mention going anywhere tonight.”

I hesitated for a moment, not wanting to get into the details with her. “Just out, needed some air.”

She huffed on the other end, clearly not satisfied with my vague response. “Have you been speaking to Y/n at all? Alex said she’s been really short with him, and he hasn’t heard from her in hours. He’s starting to lose it.”

I felt a twist in my gut. I wasn’t going to lie fully about being around Y/n this time, only hiding the parts I needed to. “Yeah, I talked to her. But why is he losing it? They’re still together, right?”

Emily scoffed, her tone laced with venom. “Barely. She treats him like shit, Matt. It’s no wonder he’s upset. She’s always so distant, like she couldn’t care less about him. And now, she’s ignoring him while he’s on the other side of the world? That’s just selfish.”

I clenched my jaw, feeling my patience wearing thin. “That’s not fair, Emily. You don’t know what’s going on between them. It seems Y/n’s been dealing with a lot lately, and maybe she just needs some space.”

Emily’s laugh was bitter. “Oh, come on, Matt. Don’t defend her. Alex deserves better than someone who barely gives him the time of day. I mean, look at how she’s acting now. It’s like she’s purposely pushing him away.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re wrong about her. Y/n isn’t the problem here. Alex has been distant for a while, and maybe she’s finally had enough. That doesn’t make her the bad guy.”

There was a pause on the other end, and I could almost picture Emily’s surprise at my sudden defense of Y/n. “You’re really going to take her side?”

“It’s not about sides, Emily. It’s about understanding that there’s more to this than you know. Maybe if you spent less time shit talking Y/n and more time trying to actually help your friend, you’d see that.”

Her voice dropped to a cold, almost threatening tone. “You better be careful, Matt.”

I felt my frustration boiling over. This conversation wasn’t going anywhere, and I couldn’t stand the way Emily was twisting everything. “I think this call is over, Emily. I’m done with this.”

Before she could say anything else, I ended the call and threw my phone onto the passenger seat, feeling a wave of anger and guilt crashing over me. I couldn’t believe how Emily was acting, how blind she was to what was really happening. And the worst part was, I knew Y/n was suffering because of it.

I turned off the engine, unbuckling my seatbelt as I made a decision. I couldn’t let the night end like this. I had to do something, something I should’ve done a long time ago. Without another thought, I got out of the car and headed towards Y/n’s apartment.

I knew this was going to change everything, but at that moment, I didn’t care. It was time to set things right, no matter what the consequences were.

Y/n’s POV

As I walked up the steps to my apartment, my mind was a whirlpool of thoughts, emotions pulling me in every direction. The night had been perfect, well, almost. There was something so easy about being around Matt, something that made me forget the chaos my life had become. But as soon as Emily's name flashed on his dashboard, reality came crashing back.

I reached my door, sliding the key into the lock, and stepped inside. The familiar comfort of my apartment wrapped around me, but it did little to ease the storm in my head. I leaned against the door after closing it, trying to make sense of everything. The skating, the music, the laughter. It had felt like an escape, like we were in our own little world where nothing could touch us. But that world wasn't real.

Matt was still tied to Emily, and I was still stuck with the knowledge of Alex’s betrayal. The fact that Emily had basically cheated on Matt with Alex, and that Alex was oblivious, Matt was obvious. It didn’t make it any better. If anything, it made everything worse. Was I any better than them for feeling what I felt about Matt? For enjoying tonight as much as I did? The guilt crept in again. I was planning to break up with Alex, that much was certain. But did that make what I was feeling, what I was starting to want, any less wrong? Could I really justify it?

I shook my head, trying to push those thoughts away, but they clung to me like a shadow. Matt was different. He wasn’t like Alex. But Emily.. Emily had her claws in him, both of them it seems, and I couldn’t forget that. She might not deserve him, but that didn’t change the fact that they were still together.

A sudden knock on the door yanked me from my spiraling thoughts. My heart jumped into my throat as I turned towards the door, my pulse quickening. I hesitated for a moment, trying to pull myself together, before reaching for the handle.

As soon as the door swung open, I barely had time to register Matt standing there before he closed the distance between us. His hands cupped my face and his lips crashed against mine. It was like a dam had broken, all the tension and longing we’d both been holding back finally pouring out. I could feel the urgency in his touch, the desperation. I responded instinctively, my hands gripping his shirt, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, our breaths mingling as we lost ourselves in the moment.

I felt the world around us disappear, nothing else mattered but this - Matt and me, finally giving in to what we both wanted. There was no hesitation, no second guessing. Everything felt right. His lips moved against mine with a perfect rhythm, and I could feel the heat between us growing, the connection we shared becoming more intense with each passing second.

As we continued to kiss, Matt’s hands slipped from my face down to my waist, pulling me even closer to him. I could feel the warmth of his body against mine, the way his heart was racing just as fast as mine. It was intoxicating, the way we fit together, the way everything just clicked.

But even in the haze of the moment, there was a tenderness in the way he held me, a sense of care that made my heart swell. He wasn’t just kissing me - he was telling me something, something that went beyond words. And in that moment, I knew I felt the same way.

When we finally pulled apart, both of us were breathing heavily, our foreheads resting against each other’s. Matt’s eyes were searching mine, as if trying to find the words to say something, but he didn’t need to. I knew what he felt, and I felt it too.

“Matt..” I whispered, my voice shaky from the intensity of what had just happened.

He didn’t respond right away, just held me there, his thumb gently stroking my cheek. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time” he finally said, his voice low and full of emotion.

I smiled softly, feeling the truth in his words. “Me too” I admitted.

We stood there for a moment, just holding each other, letting the reality of what had just happened sink in. There were still so many things we needed to talk about, so many complications, but for now, none of that mattered. All that mattered was that we were finally here, together, and everything else could wait.

Everything else melted away. The confusion, the guilt, the doubts - they all vanished in the intensity of that kiss. It was like every unspoken word, every suppressed feeling, was finally being released. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t breathe, I could only feel. This was what I had been running from, what I had been trying to deny. But now that it was happening, now that Matt was kissing me like this, there was no going back. And maybe, just maybe, I didn’t want to.

We stared into eachothers eyes again momentarily before closing the gap again, this time more intense than before, like we couldn’t get enough of each other. I began to walk backwards, pulling Matt along with me by his shirt.

I break away from him, grabbing his hand and turning to guide him to my shared bedroom. I push open the door and we rush straight in, both too consumed by the connection between us to speak a word.

Matt shuts the door behind him and latches his lips onto mine once more, his hands sliding down to my waist as I wrapped my arms around his neck. The kiss deepened, and before I knew it, I was guiding him backwards towards the bed, my heart racing in anticipation. When we reached it, I pushed him gently down onto the mattress, never breaking the kiss.

I climbed onto his lap, straddling him as our lips continued to move together, the heat between us growing. Matt’s hands found their way to my back, holding me close as if he didn’t want to let go, and I felt a thrill run through me at the intensity of it all. The sensation of being so close to him, of feeling his heartbeat against mine, was overwhelming in the best possible way.

I could sense the restraint in Matt’s movements, the careful way he held me, as if he was trying to balance the passion with a deep sense of respect. It was a reminder of why I was drawn to him in the first place - his ability to make me feel safe and cherished, even in the most intense moments.

Eventually, we pulled apart slightly, I looked into Matt's eyes, seeing the same mix of vulnerability and hope that mirrored my own feelings.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked, wanting to make sure we were both on the same page.

"This feels right." He whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

I nodded with a soft smile. "It does."

Before I knew it Matt had flipped me over, now laying with my back against the mattress. Foreplay wasn’t on the cards right now, with how bad we desperately wanted each other.

Matt stood up and unbuckled his belt, the metallic sound of the buckle was sharp in the quiet room, a reminder of how far we had already come, and how much further we could go.

I looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation, but all I saw was the same intensity that had been there all night, a mix of desire and something deeper, something that made my heart race even more. He paused for a moment, as if giving me the chance to stop, to say something, but I didn’t. I couldn’t.

Instead, I sat up, to capture his lips again, my hands resting on his shoulders as I felt the belt slide free. The kiss was softer this time, more deliberate, as if we were both savoring every second, every touch. The tension between us was electric, a current that I could feel in every inch of my body.

Matt's fingers traced up and down my thighs as he kissed me back. He hooked his fingers under my pants, pulling them down along with my underwear in one swift motion. I stared up at him with innocent eyes as he threw my pants on the floor and began to pull down his own, now standing in his boxers.

“Is this okay?” Matt asks, trying to make sure he had as much reassurance as possible.

“Of course.” I responded, trying to make him aware of how badly I wanted it.

“Do..do you have anything?” Matt mumbled.

Fuck I never thought this through.

“Uh.. yeah there should be some there in the top drawer”.

Knowing that Matt was about to pull out an unopened pack of condoms that belonged to Alex made my skin crawl. I knew they’d be unopened as our sex life died about a year ago.

Matt rummages around the top drawer and pulls out an open box of condoms. I don’t know what I’m more embarrassed by, the fact that Alex has most definitely been fucking someone else or the fact that Matt definitely thinks that they were being used for me.

“Are you ready?” Matt whispered.

I nodded as he pulled my legs apart, steadying himself at the edge of the bed while he pulled his underwear down, ripping the top of the condom wrapper with his teeth. He looked up at me once he was finished and our eyes met each other, locking into each other's gaze as he pushed into me. My back arched as I squeezed my eyes closed, opening my mouth from the feeling of Matt in me.

“Fffucck” I cried.

He leaned over and gave me a smug smile before kissing me again, pushing his tongue into my mouth. I could barely kiss him back as I couldn’t stop myself from moaning. He fit in me as if it was meant to be.

“You’re so perfect” Matt whispers to me while he starts to kiss my neck.

“Y-you feel soo goood Matt” I whimpered, my body buckling with the multiple sensations I was feeling.

Matt stands up straight again, still keeping his pace, thrusting into me as his hands grip my hips. I feel the loss of his touch on my left side, as he removes his hand and traces downard on my stomach until he reaches my clit. I feel my core start to clench as he swirls his thumb in circles on my sensitive bud.

“Does that feel nice?” Matt whispers, his full attention on me.

“S-so good, Mattt… I’m so close” I whimpered.

“You look so pretty, my girl.” Matt says breathless as he looks at me in complete admiration.

Matt picks up his pace in both areas ever so slightly, still making sure he’s gentle with me. “Fuck you’re so good Y/n, I’m gonna cum.”

“Fuck I’m-” I whimper, clenching around his dick as I climax, my body shaking underneath him. Matt wrapped his arms around me and buried his head in my neck. His grunts filling my ears as his thrusts now become sloppy as he finishes. Both two sweaty mess’ fully engrossed in eachother.

I’ve never had this feeling before, finishing by the hands of a man, and I’m glad he was the one that finally could do it for me. I felt an insane amount of comfort with him, my body fully trusted him.

Matt pulled out of me and bent down to give me a slow, passionate kiss. Feeling more connected than ever. He pulls away and looks at me with a slight concerned but playful look to him.

“D-do you have any where I could put this?” Matt asks, pointing in the direction of the filled condom that’s still attached to him.

I giggled at the realization “Yeah, the ensuite is the door behind you.” Nodding in the direction of the door. Matt made his way to clean himself up in the bathroom while I slipped into something comfortable.

I walked back over to my bed and lay there staring up at the ceiling. I hear the bathroom door open as Matt reappears in the room, walking over to lay down beside me, my eyes still stuck on the ceiling. The room was filled with a quiet stillness, the only sound being our slowed, steady breathing. The warmth of Matt’s body was still close enough to feel, and everything seemed to fade into a soft haze. My mind was swimming with the events of the night, the weight of what had just happened slowly settling in.

I turned my head slightly to look at Matt. His eyes were half closed, his chest rising and falling rhythmically as he now stared at the ceiling. There was a calmness in his expression, but I could see the gears turning behind his eyes, just as they were in mine. We had crossed a line - one that we both knew couldn’t be uncrossed.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. I didn’t want to break the silence, didn’t want to shatter the fragile bubble we were in. But as I lay there, the reality of everything began to creep back in - the complications, the uncertainties, the questions about what this meant for us, for our relationships.

Finally, Matt turned his head to face me, his eyes searching mine. I could see the same mix of emotions I was feeling reflected in his gaze - satisfaction, confusion, and a touch of concern.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine.

I nodded, though the simple gesture felt inadequate to convey the whirlwind of thoughts in my head. “Yeah.. I’m okay,” I whispered back, my voice almost trembling.

He reached out, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from my face, and the tenderness in that small gesture made my chest tighten. “I’m glad” he murmured, his thumb grazing my cheek. “I don’t want you to regret this.”

“I don’t” I said quickly, more sure of that than anything else. “It’s just.. there’s so much to think about now.”

Matt sighed, rolling onto his back again and staring up at the ceiling. “Yeah, there is” he agreed. “But right now, I just want to focus on this, on us, and what we have in this moment. We’ll figure everything else out later.”

I nodded, feeling a small wave of relief wash over me. The idea of dealing with the fallout of this was daunting, but Matt’s words grounded me, reminding me that we didn’t have to have all the answers right now. We could take it one step at a time.

I shifted closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me into his warmth. The comfort of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear, made it easier to push away the looming thoughts, at least for a little while.

In that quiet aftermath, with the weight of the night pressing down on us, I found a sense of peace that I hadn’t felt in a long time. Whatever came next, whatever challenges we’d have to face, I knew we’d face them together.

a/n : after 16 parts of tension building they finallllllly get together!!! let’s just see how things play out..

taglist : @muwapsturniolo @anitahunt @sturnfannn @jayde510 @chrissfavhoe @babyalliah-777 @v33angel @urmom69lol @willowrites @ribread03 @2muchofaslvt @sturnsaver @sleepysturniolo @jcsturniolo11 @jessie-essie @hoeforchrizz @mynbbys @sturniolopanini @mattsturnxoxo @delicatechrry @t77te @sturnsyaper69 @hotdismylife @maggot3647 @ivysturnss @noplaceissafeanymore @mattssgf @yourfavsturniologirl @maethem0nth @sillyponygrl @mattyblover07 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @dominicfikeenthusiast @mattsfavbigtitties @ncm9696 @chrisstvrns @schlutt4matty @chrissolos @ilusa @amelia-sturniolo3 @wonnieeluvvr @pussydestroyer100 @amexiass

#snowy speaks #speeding car #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader

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novalpha · 2 years ago

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𝙎𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝐎𝐓𝟏𝟑 𝙍𝙚𝙘𝙨

[ Contains poly, single member at once x reader, and others..]

♡ Fluff || ୨୧ Angst || ★ Smut || ꗃ SMAU || ✹ Humor|| ⌗ Series || ✿ Drabble || ♤ Mature (No smut)

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ The Xperiments ⌗♡୨୧ -> @gamerwoo

Synopsis : Growing too strong to stay at the lab you grew up in, you’re shipped off to South Korea to continue your life in their much bigger and more high-tech lab. That’s where you meet thirteen other experiments who are just like you, only knowing life inside the labs which consists of constant inhuman studies and awful mistreatment. However, being kept solitary for your whole life, you find it difficult to trust even the experiments who know exactly what you’ve gone through. But the labs simply creating these experiments because they can may not be the only reason for your existence, and trusting the other experiments might be your only way to freedom – assuming you can stay hidden from the white coats.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Play along ★⌗ -> @xddaengx

Pt 1 , Pt 2 , Pt 3 , Pt 4 , Pt 5 , Pt 6 , Pt 7 , Deleted Scene , Pt 8

Summary: Your boyfriend proposes the idea, that he shares you with his 12 best friends.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Challenge Me ♡୨୧★⌗✹ -> @seokgyuu

Synopsis: you have never been a person who turns down a challenge, but when your best friend challenges you to hook up with 13 boys in one semester you kind of wish you were.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Horanghae ⌗♡★ -> (Hoshi centric, OT13) @horanghaejamjam

Summary: Everyone knows that Soonyoung loves tigers. The term Horanghae literally means “I tiger you”. Needless to say, the Seventeen members shouldn’t have been as surprised as they were the night he came home with a very timid white tiger curled against him.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Kitten ears ♡୨୧★⌗ -> @hansols-yoda-boxers

Synopsis: Your first family wasn’t terrible, but they weren’t very loving either and they didn’t have much space for you so you were happy to leave. Except that you were useless when it came to working so the shelter was really your only option. After a lot of waiting you were happy that you might finally be getting a family that really wanted you and cared about, despite how painfully shy and skittish you could be.

Now you just had to worry about how to handle your next heat.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ And the universe said ⌗♡୨୧♤✹ -> @thepixelelf

Synopsis: When soulmates are suddenly thrust upon the world, you are one in a million who wishes they weren't -- and that's before you meet the person (people?!) making your life much harder than it needs to be. And before someone asks you to sign an NDA.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Under the Sun ⌗♡୨୧♤ -> @wooahaes

Summary: It all starts when you wake up in a field without a name or any memories to define yourself with. Thirteen men take you in as one of their own, and slowly you begin to wonder what is going on within this world... and between you and one of them.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ thief | ʇsᴉǝɥ ★⌗ -> @meltwonu

synopsis: Working under Jeonghan had it perks. On most days, he was kind and even a little lazy; opting to let you approach certain projects on your own while letting you keep half of the profit. But on the days you royally fuck up are the days that remind you that he’s the one in charge, despite him giving you some semblance of authority.

Seperate member x reader (OT13)

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Tales from the pack ♡୨୧★⌗ -> @gamerwoo

Summary: The adventures of werewolf!Seventeen as they try to cope with finding their mates, and try their best to stay hidden from the eyes of the humans who want them dead.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Imprinted ♡୨୧★⌗ -> @gamerwoo

Summary: How the thirteen boys met their mates in a modern day world where werewolves must try to blend in with society but keep their secret hidden.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Tales from Camp ♡୨୧★⌗ -> @kwanisms

Synopsis: Thirteen friends reconnect on a camping trip, reminiscing about their times as camp counselors when they were in college.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Don't listen in secret ♡୨୧★⌗ -> @j6shua

imagine being best friends with idol group seventeen! very fun! and you get to sleep with them as a friendly favor! yay... hold on,

in order words, adventures as all of seventeen’s fuck buddy organized into a series masterlist

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ SVT hospital ♡ꗃ୨୧ -> @taeyegu

summary ━ four different departments, four different love stories, all in one hospital; hospitalplaylist!au

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ In pursuit of wedded bliss ♡୨୧⌗ -> @fantasyescapes17 (A Seventeen Regency!AU Series)

It is the season- and London is full of eligible bachelors and bachelorettes, waiting to be swept up in a whirlwind of romance, passion and matrimony as they each fight their own battles for happiness in London's elite society.

Single member x reader (ft OT13)

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Fate and desire ♡୨୧⌗✹ -> @gamerwoo

You know you’ve found your soulmate when your pendant turns red. It’s just your luck you meet an entire host club of 13 boys – save for your best friend, Jeonghan, and his boyfriend – all at once. Your pendant is now red, and all of theirs are always hidden in their shirts. But one person in particular kind of makes you want to forget about the whole “fate” thing.

[ More ot13 fic recs will be updated ]

Want more seventeen fix recs? -> Click here

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hellfire--cult · 1 year ago

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Edit of Eddie: Sofiiel

Stripper!Eddie x Shy!Fem!Reader

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 (end)

WC: 11.1k

⚠️ +18 MDNI, Stripper!Eddie, nervousness, fluff, self doubt, flirting, soft touches, mentions of vomit, skin on skin contact, kissing, kissing with tongue, pining, sexual tension, angst, anxiousness, self-deprecating thoughts, low self-esteem, panic attack hinting, nausea, dizziness, miscommunication

Plot: You thought you were cursed with your shyness, but after one embarrassing night, you decide it's time to change, and you believe someone might be able to help with that.

Summary: The morning after came, the need for a talk is there, a new realization, new found feelings... as well as the gears going back to the starting line.

A/N: I am sorry.

You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!

Taglist is closed - Follow me for updates and put notifications on!

PART 7

The sound of a bird chirping caught your ear as you slowly gained your senses back, a soft whine staying in your throat as you rustled slightly in your place. There was so much warmth, making you sigh in complete happiness, as the body next to you held you even closer, his soft snores hitting the top of your head, the smell of his cologne that still lingered–

Body holding you close?

Your eyes snapped open like plates, being met with a bare chest in front of you as it slowly raised up and then back down, tattoos splattered on his skin, tattoos you recognized now. Your heart picked up a pace as you slowly, without moving too much, pulled your head off his chest to finally look up. Your breath was caught in your throat, a squeal wanting to come out as you saw Eddie’s sleeping face, his hair all over the pillow.

Your mouth fell open as you moved your legs slightly, feeling the soreness that now resides in between them. You needed to move away from him because you had to collect yourself. You had to think. You had to process whatever happened yesterday and you were beginning to breathe heavily and you really didn’t want to wake him up, not yet.

You closed your mouth, trying to hold your breaths in as much as you could as you slowly started to wiggle out of his grasp, earning a scrunch of his nose and a groan. You tensed up when you moved, but he rolled off you in his sleep, laying on the other side of the bed with a soft sigh. You held your hand to your chest, feeling it almost ripping out from it with every thump. Your belly was turning, almost painfully as you raised yourself from his arm that was wrapped around you seconds ago, and probably was numb from being under your body the whole night.

You stared at his bare chest, your blankets covering until they met on his hips, and that’s when you realized you were stark naked, looking down at your body that– Oh god… You had hickies. You almost squealed but you threw a hand over your mouth, holding the noise in. You really had to go and collect yourself, because you needed to go through the events from yesterday and try to calm yourself before he wakes up because you two would definitely have a talk.

And that was the problem, about what?

You slowly took the blankets off your legs and swung them to the side, and you winced slightly at the soreness on your inner thighs. It’s been way too long since you… Since you had sex. Shit, you had sex. You slept with Eddie, your friend Eddie. Just because of a split second of horniness. You stood up before you screamed and looked around to find something that didn’t require you to open your closet in order to not make any noise.

You gulped as you grabbed onto your white cotton panties that you had taken out yesterday but decided on the black set. Where’s the bra? You can’t find it, and the only things you have are the black dress from yesterday, which is a no, a pair of gym shorts that you use for bed, and an oversized white shirt. Those two will have to do, at least for now, so you could run away from the room as soon as possible.

You grabbed onto the garments and threw them on carefully in order to not stumble and trip and probably make a fool out of yourself in front of the guy you slept with a few hours ago. You felt your face burn at that while you pulled the shirt over your head and your breathing was coming out in heavy amounts from your mouth and you quickly tiptoed out of the room, and closed the door behind you making as little noise as possible.

You let the breath that was in your lungs finally leave your body as you stepped away from your door as if it were on fire. Okay, you were alone now, Eddie is naked in your room, in your bed, because you two slept together yesterday night. Your hands ran over your face and pulled your hair back, gripping your scalp tightly, feeling your intestines just twisting all about, heart in your throat and the flow of your blood very loud in your ears.

You started pacing back and forth, taking deep breaths as you started to think. What did this all mean? You acted out of instinct, out of urges. What were you? An animal? But Eddie didn’t seem to mind, he actually went in for more with you, didn’t he? You made all the moves of course, which you still don’t know how or why you did that, but you did and he followed.

But what now? What is going to happen now? You crossed the line, this isn’t just a friendship anymore, friends don’t fuck eachother, at least, not your normal type of friendships don’t. How are you going to explain yourself? What if he asks why you did what you did yesterday? What are you going to tell him? ‘Hey, I realized that I am heavily attracted to you.’

Sure, that is true, but what would that mean between the two of you? What are his feelings about this and… how did he feel yesterday? Were you enough? Were you good? He seemed to enjoy himself, but you didn’t really do much, so did he like it? Did he really want to do that with you?

“Fuck…” You were biting on your thumb’s skin next to your fingernail again. You really don’t know what is going on, you really have no idea how to move from this. This is the first time you actually felt good while having sex, and you really never in your life experienced what he did to you yesterday. Your eyes widened as you stood in place, eyes widening as another curse left your lips.

The burning in your belly was back.

How was this not enough? You went all the way with him, with a man you are actually attracted to, so why are you still yearning for more? It made no sense, and how your body reacts to the memory of him in between your legs is absolutely ridiculous. You looked at the door once, licking your bottom lip as your mind became slightly hazy again.

Maybe you can act normally? Just, go back into his arms in bed, see where that takes you, see him as he wakes up and smiles at you, and you two would probably talk about the fries from yesterday night and how you didn’t get actual dinner. He would ask for some pancakes again, and then you would gladly make them.

He would like that right? Waking up with breakfast? You can do that, just normally, like the other day you were at his home. Everything was normal after that, and everything can be normal after last night. You can do this. It’s going to be completely fine, you just don’t have to think too much about it, and maybe he won’t either. You took a deep breath in and walked towards your kitchen to start on preparing some coffee and then start grabbing the ingredients for your chocolate chip pancakes.

You were taking deep breaths, trying to concentrate on your cooking. Eggs, milk, flour, chocolate chips in. You froze. You put the chocolate chips into the batter. Just how he likes it. Stop thinking. Stop thinking. Stop thinking. Your guts turned again as you kept stirring the batter, over and over again, the gears in your head making you dizzy as the thoughts started reappearing again.

He is going to wake up soon, what are you going to say? Act normal, that’s what you settled on, but now you don’t remember what normal is. How is normal after this? What is normal about any of this? It’s not. It’s definitely not normal to sleep with your friend. Are you going to keep being friends? Oh, what if he doesn't even want to be friends? How are you going to be able to handle that?

The smell of coffee snapped you out again and you looked down at the batter, letting a breath come out of your lips to finally put the pan on the stove. You grabbed onto one of your plates as you started cooking the pancakes, trying to just focus on making them the perfect shape, cooking them just right, letting the air be filled with the sweet smell–

“Shit darling, that smells good.”

You froze on your fourth pancake, with the spatula underneath it about to turn it over. Your heart was in your throat now, maybe your ears, you didn’t know, but there was a sharp noise ringing in your eardrums, blocking any sounds coming from around you, including Eddie’s steps that were being taken towards you.

He was now behind you, you could feel his presence on your back, your chest heaving up and down as you stared down, not noticing that the pancake was starting to burn already. You couldn’t move, you didn’t want to look at him, you didn’t know what to say, how to act, how to move, and your body simply grew into a cold sweat, your hand trembling with the utensil still in your grasp.

Eddie has actually been awake the moment you made him roll over in the bed. He kept his eyes closed because his heart was in his throat, and he knew he had to give you time. He knew he had to leave you alone to gather your thoughts on what happened, and he couldn’t simply dive in and envelop you again, even if that was what he wanted the most. Once you were out of the room, he sat up too quickly and ran his hands through his hair as his eyes stared widely on the comforters of the bed.

He slept with you. The thing he didn’t believe to happen at all, happened, which was you showing him what you wanted to do with him. You had the guts that he didn’t have. You made the first moves, all of them, and his mind and self control completely shut off last night, but so did yours. He felt his south area beginning to harden again as he remembered last night, your body, your taste, and he didn’t even do head. He almost never did, but he was desperate for you last night, and he still is.

When you started losing yourself to your lust against him, he really thought he had gone to heaven at that very moment. He could have died a happy man yesterday after what happened, but then he wouldn’t get more. He wouldn’t be able to taste you again, to feel you again, to hold you again, and he wanted to, crazily so. He wasn’t going to let this be a one time thing, and he needed to tell you just that, but he knew you were processing yourself right now, after all, it was the first time you had acted out of impulse to your urges.

He held back a grin as he bit his bottom lip, dropping his hands on the bed. You let go with him, which meant, hopefully, that you reciprocated what he was feeling. You weren’t a friend, not anymore. He didn’t want you to be. He actually had decided, selfishly so, to not be your friend any longer almost a month ago. It had hit him like a train really, not even thinking that you would crawl under his skin the way you did, but the more time he spent with you, the more time you two talked about each other, and to be even interested in one another’s life stories, he knew he was a goner.

His head snapped towards the door as he heard you pacing around the living room and his gut turned with nervousness as his fingers trembled with the need of going and console you, to tell you what he was feeling, to tell you that everything is just fine, and he wishes he could tell you that everything is okay and that nothing changes… But he can no longer say that. There was no way he was letting you go this time, he wasn’t going to pretend to be normal, he wasn’t going to pretend like you didn’t kiss him fucking stupid last night, he wasn’t going to pretend like he didn’t have the best night of his life just a few hours ago.

Minutes later, his nose caught the smell of coffee, and then a sweet smell. Pancakes. You were making him pancakes. He smiled widely at that, because despite you probably having a breakdown, or being nervous right now, you still decided to make breakfast for him. He took a deep breath in, getting up from the bed to throw on his boxers and pants, looking over at his shirt. If he dresses himself, fully, he was afraid of you thinking that everything was done with, and it was anything but. Shirtless it is.

So now, he stands behind you, noticing how stiff you got, and the smell of burnt pancake filled his nostrils. His hand raised up to slowly graze over your wrist that was holding the spatula, and you almost jumped at the touch, but he held onto your wrist instantly, pulling it up so that the pancake would lift from the pan and throwing it on the plate next to the stove. He could almost hear your breathing from how hard it was, and truly, he was holding his own back in order to not make you any more nervous.

His eyes then darted towards the bowl with batter in it, and he almost looked away when he noticed you had put the chocolate chips inside it this time, instead of sprinkling them on top of the pancake while it was cooking. The corner of his lip turned upwards at the gesture, and his chest puffed up with pride and with hope but for now, he had to snap you back into reality, because you were still frozen in his hold.

“Angel… It’s just me.” Those three words that always seemed to calm you for some reason, those three words that simply made all your nerves go away, even if little. Knowing it was just Eddie, knowing he wasn’t there to judge you, or criticize you, or call you out, but just be there for you, with you. You took a big gulp while you gripped onto the spatula even harder.

“I–” No words were coming out. There was no way you could talk at this moment, because you actually didn’t know what to say, where to start, or how to even begin to describe what you were feeling or what you were thinking, but it seems you didn’t have to think too hard, because he was already blabbering, getting hold of the bowl with some batter left.

“See? It’s less messier when you already put the chocolate chips in.” You blink dumbly at his words, looking at the bowl. He tipped some in the pan, and his tongue stuck out from the corner of his mouth as he stuck his finger in the batter and dragged more chocolate chips into that specific pancake. That actually made you snap out.

“Don’t touch the batter with your fingers!” You exclaim at him as you wiggle the pan a bit to get all the edges with the mix. You heard him chuckle next to you as he set the bowl down.

“It needed more chocolate chips! That’s mine by the way.” He said pointing at the pancake that was already cooking and it was more chocolate than the mix. You rolled your eyes at his childishness. He stuck his finger inside his mouth, licking the batter off it.

“More chocolate chips next time, got it.” You said almost in a groan but he didn’t miss the ‘next time’ part. His mind went places. Waking up with you next to him, cuddling until midday, both of you not getting out of bed even if you needed to pee and only till your bellies grumbled that you two would get up to go make some pancakes together, laughter filling the kitchen as he shoves way too many chocolate chips in the mix and you yell at him for being too reckless.

“I’m feeling fancy for next time, maybe add some blueberries in it? Or, hear me out… marshmallows.” He says and you cringed at the sweetness of it all, but also a small giggle came out of your throat as you flipped the pancake on the pan.

“That’s a s'mores pancake… You can literally just have S’mores.” You say and you hear him chuckle next to you, as he walks towards the coffee pot, and sees that you had already prepared two empty cups to pour the liquid in. He filled his cup in black coffee, but yours only half. He walked towards your fridge to get your vanilla creamer out, and finally filled the rest of your coffee with it. You didn’t miss the gesture, a strong heat invading your belly and cheeks.

“It’s not the same! The S’mores have biscuits. Pancakes are fluffier, imagine how much fluffier they would be with marshmallows inside. Honestly, I think we’re onto something here sweetheart.” You flip the pancake onto the stack you had next to the stove and turn it off because you believed five pancakes were fine for the two of you. “Or maybe we can add some mint in them.”

That made your mouth drop open, your head snapping to your side to look at him with widened and disgusted eyes, but you froze again when you saw him. The back of his hip was resting on the counter as he looked at you with a smile to his face, one hand holding a mug, the other was handing you yours. You didn’t realize that you were talking normally to him until now. How did Eddie do it? Every single time?

“T-Thanks…” You say as you look down from his eyes but it was a bad idea. He was shirtless. Oh, the fucking flashbacks. Your whole body heated up at the memories of your nails going all over his skin, all over his chest, all over his arms. You took a large gulp out of your coffee and you clenched your eyes at the taste. It was the perfect measurement.

“I had to bring your despise for mint for you to look at me.” He lets out with a small chuckle, taking a sip of his own coffee. You blinked down at your cup, not really knowing where to go from here. Should you apologize? Should you tell him that he should forget about it? But why would you say something so hypocritical when you didn’t want to forget about it?

“I– I– just don’t know–” You tried to say out loud but your throat went dry at those few words, making you take more sips out of your mug, and he sighed, taking one last sip of his, putting his cup on the counter.

“Tell me what you’re thinking Angel. I need to know what you’re thinking.” And how do you even begin? You don’t even know what you feel, you don’t even know if it was right, if it was wrong, but the only thing you knew, is that you desired Eddie, that you were attracted to him in ways that not even god could define. But you won’t tell him that, because that’s when you would crawl into a hole and disappear from the world.

“I– I really don’t know– Yesterday… I never–” You blabbered, stuttered, and he was being patient as he looked at you, hands trembling with the cup in between them. He felt his chest about to explode but he still waited, wanting to hear you, to understand you, but he knew your mind was just a jumbled mess, he can hear it in the tremble on your voice and in the way your eyes were going back and forth as if looking for an answer somewhere.

He raised his hand up to place it on the cheek that was not facing him, and you immediately froze again. He leaned down and forward to press a soft kiss on the cheek facing him this time, and your body felt like it melted away, your bones going all soft and wiggly on you, a sigh escaping your lips at the touch of his lips on your skin. For some reason, this gesture made some of the black clouds move away from your mind, leaving some space for clarity, for you to slowly turn your head to face him again as he pulled away from you, his thumb caressing your cheek in gentle circles.

“Do you regret it? Because let me tell you darling, I sure as hell don’t.” Even if your heart wanted to burst into a million pieces from how hard it was beating, your eyes still widened at his words, surprise taking all over your features.

“Y-You don’t?” You asked with a hint of confusion in your tone as well. He licked his lips as his throat closed up on him, but he gulped it down so that he could keep talking. You were just too beautiful right now, looking up at him with those eyes that he adored.

“I did mean what I said yesterday.” He says and you tilt your head at that, trying to remember everything that was said at the bar, or when you walked your way to it with him, and he smiled at you, pulling his hand off your face, grabbing the mug out of your hands and placing it on the counter next to his. Your eyebrows knitted together at that, looking at the cup leaving your grasp.

“Why—” You began to ask, but when you looked back up at him, your mouth immediately closed, seeing the serious face he had on. It made your heart jump slightly as well as your stomach, not knowing how his smile turned into this serious look. His hand raised to pinch on the side of your shirt with his fingers and tugged you in front of him, almost making you stumble at the sudden jerk. He then pressed that same hand on your waist, firmly, while the other raised up to gently hold your cheek to make you look up at him.

“You have no idea for how long I’ve wanted last night to happen.” He says while looking down at you, his eyes searching for yours as a gasp was caught in your throat, your body heating up at his words and your head was about to look down, but he held you in place, shaking his head at you. “No, keep looking at me.”

“B-But I didn’t do— I didn’t do anything—” He shook his head again, your eyes trying to avoid his as you talked, now your chest thumping wildly, blood pumping everywhere in your body at a very accelerated pace, and you didn’t notice how your voice was trembling and how you were slowly beginning to shake in his grasp.

“I need you to calm down baby… It’s really just me.” He gave small circles on your cheek, which made your eyes look back at him, your mind going blank. He wanted last night to happen? He wanted to sleep with you? Many questions were going through your mind but only one was voiced out.

“We had sex.” His eyebrows raised up in surprise, a smile appearing on his lips, dimples showing off, but you were still completely bewildered as you blinked at him, your mind just trying to work overtime now for you. “You-You saw me naked, I saw you naked—”

“Pretty necessary for having sex Angel.” He says with a laugh this time, and that only made your brain simply burn off, steam coming off the top of your head. You gulped as his laughter slowly tuned down, the turning in your belly and the doubt in your mind now cooperating to formulate another question.

“Why— Why with me?” You managed to ask, and that made Eddie’s laugh completely turn off, only for you to continue. “I-I’m just… not—” And he knew who you were comparing yourself to. The clients in the club stood no chance against you, they really didn’t, but you didn’t believe that. He weighed his options, and he decided it would be better to show you.

“You’re not what?” His hand left your cheek to mimic his other one, pressing on your waist, now firmer than before, and he pulled your body flush into his, and your eyes widened up at him. He leaned down close to your ear, his breath hitting your skin, sending shivers down your spine as the fire in your belly ignited once more. “Feel what you do to me by just standing in your kitchen in an oversized white shirt.”

Against your belly was the same hardness you felt yesterday night on your hip. The one you felt rubbing itself against your center. The one you felt against your thigh when he climbed over towards you. And now, you didn’t have the dress on, your makeup was smudged and you cleaned it up with your fingers as much as you could, you probably smell like sweat… and he still wants you.

He couldn’t help himself, being close to your ear, to your skin, and his mouth instantly pressed a gentle kiss under your earlobe, a gasp coming out of your lips as the touch left your skin burning. You should ask him, you should talk to him, stop and try to think for a second, but that was the problem right now, you didn’t want to, and it seems that he didn’t either.

His kiss trailed down towards your neck, soft lips pressing against your pulse point, and your hands raised up shakily to hold onto his biceps, fingernails digging into his skin, and his own digits dug into your waist, trying to have a cable back to earth, but his self control was slipping away again the more he took your scent in, the more he tasted you again on his lips.

More. More. More.

Now that chant was on repeat in his mind as well, at the same time it was happening in yours. He was repeating your actions from yesterday, letting himself go, his mouth doing the work for him, not a single thought running in his head except for the need to hold you again, just running his lips on your skin again.

“I really mean it…” He mumbled in your neck, more kisses being left there as he kissed his way from one side to the other, making your head turn with soft breaths escaping your mouth which was making his brain simply scramble into nothing. “You have no idea for how long I’ve wanted you.”

His voice was low, and your belly was burning with need again, your hands slowly trailing over his biceps to rest one hand on his shoulder, the other around his neck, pulling him into you, making his kisses turn hungrier, not being able to hold it and sucking on your skin to mark you, to leave you the reminder that this happened between you both, for you to look at it at every hour today, and tomorrow, and he wishes that by the end of today he would be able to retrace his mark again and again, not letting it fade at all, even if weeks went by.

“Eds—” You softly mumble as a moan escapes your lips, your eyes half lidded as you bathe in his attention. You heard a soft groan against your skin, only for the warmth that was there to simply vanish as he pulled away from you. Before you could complain, before you could ask, before the gears in your brain could start working again, his lips found yours, making your nails grip onto his shoulder even tighter.

He was hungry, and it wasn’t for the pancakes, and he made it known by how he instantly started moving his lips against yours, rough, yet with deepness, with care, swallowing your breaths into his mouth, taking everything he could from you. You didn’t even had time to process what was happening, except for your desire to start talking for you as well, and your brain was simply processing the words ‘Fuck it’.

You started returning his kiss in the same manner, the hand on his neck going to his nape to pull him even deeper into you, your other hand sliding off his shoulder to rub against his bicep and he groaned into you, your touch making his gut turn in excitement, in nervousness, in need, just by you scratching your nails on his skin, not even on an erogenous zone. He sort of cursed you in his head for the way you made him feel like putty in just two seconds and with just one touch.

He ran his tongue over your bottom lip, and your mouth instantly invited him in, a moan of yours escaping into his as his tongue pressed against yours. You felt him even harder against your belly, making the heat in your center reappear at an alarming rate, almost too hot for you to handle. Now that you knew what he could do to you, this burning was even worse than before. It was much, much worse, but you didn��t hate it, you didn’t dislike it and you didn’t want to push it away.

His hands finally moved from your waist, and you gasped into the kiss as you felt his fingertips gliding underneath the hem of your shirt, pulling it up as he finally pressed his hand against your bare back, flushing you into him, and you shivered at how big his palm was against you, how hot it felt, but another gasp escaped you when you felt his other hand cup the round of one of your cheeks, now pressing you against his bottom half even harder.

He moaned in his throat and you melted at the sound, your tongue still dancing with his as his hands pressed against you, rubbed, groped, simply felt as if wanting to remember every part of your skin and body, on how your skin was soft yet warm under his palms. Your minds were filled with one another, not wanting to separate at all, and he needed you again, screw the pancakes, he can eat those later, right after he has you.

He had to guide you to your bedroom, you need to know how much he wants you still, how much he will want you after, and the days to come, and he is certain he is not going to ever get tired of you, not when you taste like this, when you feel like this, when you burn like this.

He pushed himself off the counter, ready to begin to guide you back to where you both woke up minutes ago. You were going to let him, your belly turning anxiously as you let yourself wanting him again, and maybe this time you can try to make him feel good too. You want to really make him feel good, just like he did yesterday and the other night. You were eager to learn what he liked, eager to hear him moan because of what you do to him, and you never in your life thought you would be eager to do something like that before.

The music of Master of Puppets suddenly filled the room and your eyes opened like plates.

You two pulled away, brows furrowed together as you both looked around to where it was coming from. Eddie finally spotted his jacket on the floor, just where he left it yesterday and he cursed under his breath. He had to let you go to actually answer the phone.

“Hang on sweetheart.” He gave you a small peck on the lips before letting go of your body, and you just stood there, frozen as you felt the cold hitting your skin again. What happened? How did you go from making pancakes to almost having sex with him once more? How did that happen in such a short lapse of time?

He grabbed his jacket from the floor, grimacing slightly at it because he just left a wet patch on the floor, not letting it dry properly so it was still kind of wet in some folds. He dug into his pocket for his phone, pulling it out to look at the caller ID. He blinked a few times at it and when he didn’t answer is when you turned your head to look at him.

“Eds…?” You called him out, almost breathlessly and he turned to look at you with a small smile on his face.

“I have to get this Angel, I’ll be back.” You watched him put the jacket on the counter to then go back into your room, closing the door behind him. Your breath finally left your lungs, the burning calming down slightly, but not quite. You gulped heavily as you licked your lips, and you knew they were red and plump from the kissing you just did. You couldn’t help but feel… Happy. That’s how you felt, a small smile appearing on your lips.

You didn’t mind your mind shutting off when it came to him, you really didn’t. But the uneasiness of not knowing what all of this meant came back, but not because he was not clarifying it with you. It was because you weren’t being clear with yourself. What did this all mean? Why were you like this? Was this really how simple attraction felt like?

Your ear picked up movement in your room, and you really didn’t want to eavesdrop, but you really couldn’t help yourself, and it only took two steps for you to listen to Eddie’s low voice through the door. Even when he wanted to speak in whispers he was loud.

“Yeah, I heard you… I forgot about today, but I can— Yeah…— Okay, see you later then–.”

You blinked at those words, brows knitting together in confusion. Who was he talking to? You heard more shuffling and you panicked, not wanting him to know you were listening to his conversation and you went back towards the pancakes, now cold and you pretended to prepare a plate for you to put one on when you heard the door open. Your blood pumped in your veins in a wildly manner as you turned to see Eddie with his turtleneck on, boots thumping on your floor as he mumbled curses under his breath.

“Are you alright?” It was the first question that popped in your head, because he didn’t look happy at all, and seeing him in his clothes again made your mood instantly drop, realizing that he was leaving.

“Yeah– Um… I have to go… Steve needs me to take him somewhere– Kind of forgot about it.” He says to you with a small smile to his face, almost forced and you stood still in your place, not really knowing what to do. He saw your hesitation, so he took the steps between the both of you, his hands cupping your face, leaning down to place a soft peck on your lips. Your breath hit his face as he pulled away, but lingered over your lips, and you couldn’t help but voice out the first question that came to mind.

“You really have to go?” And Eddie wanted to die right then and there. You didn’t want him to leave, but fuck, he had to go. His knees almost buckled at your voice yet, he nodded with a saddened look on his face.

“Yeah… But we’ll talk later okay? We really do need to talk… Right Angel?” Your eyes locked with his at those words, and your face flushed in a way that wasn’t because of embarrassment, but just pure adoration. You nodded, almost dumbly at his words, making a smile appear on his lips. He gave you a peck on your lips again, not really wanting to go without his dose and he has to quickly pull away before he gets distracted with you once again.

He pulled away from you and you felt your body completely warm now, not even cold, not even if he pulled away from you. He grabbed onto his jacket with one hand and walked towards the door, opening it to then look towards the counter. He rushed back to grab onto two full pancakes, shoving them in his mouth, the rest still sticking out, making your eyes go wide, afraid he’ll choke.

“Eddie!” He smiled at you with the pancakes between his teeth, winking at you before doing a little jog out of the door, closing it behind him, finally leaving you alone in your home.

Your hands immediately went towards your mouth, covering it to contain your screams, afraid that he was still out there. You were feeling so many things at one single moment. Nervousness, fear, happiness, indecisiveness, embarrassment, delight, and arousal. All of that was happening in one single moment which was making your heart rate pick up even more than before.

You were going to have a stroke by the end of the day, you knew that. And he wants to talk. What does he want to talk about? What are you supposed to talk about? What are you supposed to say? To feel? How do you even start the conversation with him? What is going to be your new normal? What did you want it to be?

You absentmindedly grabbed onto one pancake and took a bite out of it, only to spit it out onto the plate in disgust.

It was the burnt one.

He hasn’t spoken to you all day, and that made you anxious. It’s already 7 PM, and it’s his day off, so he should be available, right? You could message him, but what do you even want to say? Hi? How are you? How was your day?

There is no way you could be normal with this, you can’t act normal, not when you had to actually clean your room after yesterday’s night. Not when you discovered the ball of paper on the night table that wasn’t yours, only to open it up and find the used condom inside, and that made your memories just hit you like a car at great speed, almost knocking you over.

How can you act normal after that?

Your phone started ringing, the ringtone of The Shire started going off and your heart leaped, and you rushed from your room towards your kitchen where the noise was coming from, grabbing it from the counter, only for your face to frown into a disappointed one seeing it was Robin. That made you feel a little bit guilty, but you couldn’t help yourself. Not when you’ve been waiting all these hours for him to talk to you again. You slid the button to answer her, her face coming up on the screen, a big smile on her lips.

“Hi Rob–”

“SHE SAID YES!” That startled you, completely, almost throwing the phone to the floor. You blinked a few times as you regained the posture, as Robin’s blabbering kept going on the phone and you raised a hand towards your camera to stop her.

“Robs, Robs– I don’t understand a word you’re saying, where are you?” You frowned at seeing her on what appeared to be the mall, just walking while talking to you.

“Vickie said yes to my date!” She says excitedly and your chest warms up with joy, a smile spreads on your lips as you start bouncing in your place, and she mimics you, both of you looking completely dumb but you didn't care, nor did she.

"Holy shit!" You yell with her as you spin in your place and she laughs, a vibrant blush on her cheeks as she looks at you.

"I know!" She yells again and probably caught the attention of many people that were walking near her and you hear her say a small 'sorry' to someone, making you giggle.

"How did it happen?" You asked her, going to sit on your couch, excitement clear in your voice. She was still with a smile on her face, almost crazy looking, making you laugh at her face.

"She called me to ask me about something; I really don't even remember what it was, I think it was something about a recipe? Anyways, at the end of it I just– She just looked too pretty, you have no idea, and I blurted it out." You covered your mouth with your hand as shock washed over you. You never really imagined Robin to be straightforward, but it seems she bursted at the seams.

"Wow Robin… Why are you in the mall? When is it? Where are you both going?" The questions blurted out of your mouth like a machine gun, making Robin blush even more.

"We are going to the movies tonight, and I am getting something different than what I always wear, because I realized all my clothes look the fucking same, and maybe– Do I get her some roses? Chocolates? I’ve never been on a formal date, I don’t know how this works, I am losing my mind–”

“Robin, Jesus calm down, I bet that Vickie doesn’t care, she already said yes to a date, knowing it wasn’t a friendly outing.” You tell her and she seemed to calm down with that, giving you a soft nod as if in understanding.

“You are right… God, I just– I just like her so much…” You can see Robin’s dreamy eyes as she enters one of the stores, scanning all of the clothes that might be there, but your mind starts to wander. Robin didn’t know anything, not even that you kissed Eddie. Maybe she did because she’s friends with Steve, but she never really said anything about it… But–

“Robs?” You call out to her, heart thumping in your ears as you let your words come out of your mouth.

“Yeah?” She was still looking above the camera, and you could hear the hangers simply moving from side to side as she browsed. You cleared your throat and licked your lips, stammering a bit in your words as you tried to word your thoughts without giving yourself away.

“How do you even know it is not a simple attraction? What you feel for Vickie.” You say to her, biting on your tongue almost as the nerves in your belly started spiraling as she looked quizzically down at the phone.

“What?”

“I never experienced it, so– I mean, liking someone is simply being attracted to them, right?”

“Oh honey, no.” You sat frozen at that, blinking at the phone, your whole body just completely still on your couch as you processed her words. What? When you didn’t answer, she continued talking. “You start with attraction, then it develops into something else.”

Your heart picked up a pace again, and the hand holding the phone was growing quite the sweat. What did she mean by that? Why does it feel like she is saying something that you needed to hear? Why does it feel like she is caging you?

“And how do you even know that?” You manage to ask, and your mind for some reason is afraid of the answer. Afraid to finally come to terms with something you thought it was going to be impossible for you.

“Well, you are still attracted to them, but… You want to know about them, wake up with them by your side… I don’t know, I guess– When you are with them, and you can laugh afterwards, but still want them later on… You just want— More.”

Your eyes widened as plates at that, heart finally coming to a stop.

More. More. More.

“Oh god…” You let those words come out as a soft breath, Robin not really hearing you, too busy finding a shirt for her date, while you were having a complete breakdown on this discovery of yours. You found the word for your feelings. The word that scares you even at the deep of your gut. The word that you don’t even know if it’s reciprocated, and you are scared to even know if it is.

And now you came to realize that it’s not recent. It’s not something that happened after the first kiss even. Even when he hugged you, you always wanted more. When he held your hand, you always wanted more. When he laughed with you and you didn’t want it to ever stop, you just wanted more. It was never enough, it could never be enough, not when it came to him. You were screwed.

You fell for Eddie. Deeply.

Your body trembled with realization, with desperation to have him back with you because now that you know what name to put on your feelings, you just felt this incredible need of having him, shower him with affection, not even be nervous around him, you just needed to hold him again, kiss him again, touch him again, spend time with him again.

You were nervous, anxious even, but there was still hope in your heart, hope that he feels the same for you, hope that he wants you more than just friendship. He wants to talk to you about what happened yesterday, he wants to talk it out and now you know where you are headed. Now you know how to start the conversation. Now you know what to tell him.

“Hey, you there?” You hear Robin, making you snap completely out of your thoughts, blinking rapidly at the screen. Your friend had a small smirk on her lips, or you thought she had it, because it fell down as soon as you looked at the camera.

“Y-Yeah, I just– I remembered I have to um… get some ingredients for today’s dinner. I have nothing in my fridge.” You manage to blurt out the lie, but in your head you were already making plans, not being able to hold your words back, knowing where to go now.

“Oh, then if it’s that… Go to the grocery store… I’ll tell you everything after my date, okay?” Robin had a knowing smile on her face as she spoke to you and you really wanted to question her if she knew, but it was going to be a conversation that would take too long and you needed to run out of your apartment right at this very second.

“Yeah! I hope everything goes well Robs!” You say quickly, kind of feeling guilty for squashing over your friend’s success but it seems as if Robin didn’t really mind it, waving at you.

“Hopefully! Talk to you later!” And you said a soft ‘bye’ and hung up the call. You blinked a few times at the phone. Should you call him? Tell him– No, he has his day off. Your legs started working again as your breathing became erratic with emotion, with excitement, never in your life feeling this way before.

You finally know what everyone meant when they talked about crushes, and love. You never felt that excitement, never felt that interest, never really believed they were telling you the truth about it, but now you know it is, because your heart was exploding but in such a good way, in a perfect way that only Eddie managed to do.

Your feet took you to your room to throw on a pair of jeans, changing from your pajama pants, and then a random shirt, changing it from your oversized shirt that you were still wearing since the morning because it still held Eddie’s scent. His perfume stuck to the collar of the fabric and you whimpered when you took it off, but you had to be quick. You almost fell on your ass when you wiggled yourself forcefully into your sneakers.

You didn’t even grab your purse, just your phone and your car and house keys. You never ran so fast out of the complex and towards your car, with a smile plastered on your face all the while. When you sat yourself in front of the steering wheel, you couldn’t even believe what you were doing, what your feet were taking you, but you couldn’t hold it in anymore, just like last night.

Last night you finally exploded, wanting to finally feel him entirely, and the fact that you want, NEED more, is a sign that you have to talk it out, say that to him, say that you want more, be honest and let yourself go. Your keys got into the ignition hole, and you took a deep breath as you started your journey into the streets, your heart in your throat pumping quicker as you approached your destination.

You were probably insane, you were probably going to make a scene, and you didn’t even know how to word anything of what you were feeling properly, but you were sure you were going to say everything to him. You knew you had to. No matter how it comes out of your mouth, no matter what you have to do to get your words through, you will try and you will tell him that you like him, that you are falling for him, that you might even already have fallen to the deep end.

You parked right in front of his complex, and an old man was opening the main door to the lobby, making you rip yourself from the seatbelt and bolting out of your car, pressing the lock button over your shoulder as you reached the door, holding it open for the old man who thanked you as you anxiously waited for him to go through. Once he did, you ran towards the elevators, pressing the buttons desperately.

You looked at the numbers going down and you were chanting ‘come on, come on’ under your breath. Once the metal doors opened, you ran inside, quickly pressing his apartment’s button, almost to the point of breaking it. The door closed and you took many deep breaths in, but a smile was on your face as your ears rang from the excitement. You weren’t even thinking of the possibility of rejection, you just wanted this feeling to be known, for him to know, for him to understand.

The doors opened and you took a slow step out as you stared at his apartment door. Was this the right decision? Right now? Not even messaging him to tell him you were coming over? He had errands to run today, what if he is not home yet? But the light underneath the door frame told you otherwise, sparking your excitement once again. You walked towards the door, and took one last deep breath in. This was it.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You waited, deep breaths coming out of your lips as you waited, rocking on the balls of your feet, back and forth, and that’s when you heard shuffling on the other side of the door, a sniffle, slippers sliding against the wooden floor, and a click of the lock was heard. When it opened, you found a very sick Steve Harrington in front of you, red nose and all, hair all over the place, his blue robe on his body and your eyes widened at the sight.

“Shit, Steve, are you okay?” You ask him and he was almost wobbly, greeting you with your name and nodding. He actually took so many tylenol and dayquil that his mind was just trying to survive at this point.

“Yeah, peachy, never felt greater in my life…” You winced at his sarcasm and he sniffled holding himself with his hand on the doorframe, his eyes completely droopy from the mucus that was on his sinus. “What brings you here, sweetness?” You straightened up again at his question, but you tilted your head in question this time, remembering that Eddie told you he had to take Steve somewhere… maybe the hospital?

“Oh, I just— I came to see Eddie.” Steve scoffed at that, and sniffled again.

“He is not here.” He says and you tilt your head in confusion again. Maybe he went to grab something to eat?

“Oh, I just assumed it’s his day off so…” You mentioned to him, and you were hoping you would get the information out of his mouth, a mouth that at this moment had no filter, and no rationality or perception.

“He must be with a client.” He says and you just blink up at him, and your mind for some reason was telling you that you should leave, that you should not hear any longer, that you have to run from there, but your feet never moved.

“A client?” You choke out, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible and Steve wobbles a bit, trying to focus on your face, but failing to do so. He waved his hand around as he explained himself.

“Yeah, his second job. He did tell you about it right?”

“The job… that…”

“Private meetings with clients. Mainly sex really.”

Your heart dropped at that, falling right into your stomach. You were staring at Steve as if he had just stabbed you with a sword, just impaling you without any kind of mercy, and the gears in your mind started working, but instead of moving forward, they went backwards. Your hands were starting to tremble, not wanting to believe what Steve was saying.

“That– Today?” You choke out, holding a sob in your throat as your knees start to give up on you. This couldn’t be happening, not right after the best night of your life, not after realizing what you felt for him, not after he said those things to you.

“Yeah, I mean, sometimes we do it for money, sometimes just for pleasure, so that’s why I don’t know when he’ll be back.” He blurts out and that’s when your world stopped.

He lied. He lied to you. He said he was going with Steve today, but Steve is too sick to even move… The call– The words you heard– You wanted to vomit, nausea washing over your stomach as the puzzle came together in your head, slowly, and when it finally clicked, when it all clicked.

And your eyes couldn’t look at Steve’s face any longer.

“O-Oh, y-yeah, he told me, I must have forgotten…” Your voice was small, your body shaking as your gaze couldn’t handle Steve’s neck, nor his chest, nor his legs, until you were entirely looking at the floor. Your body was shaking almost, and you had to run away. You had to leave. You were suffocating. You needed air.

“Do you want me to–” You didn’t even let him finish his sentence, taking a step back from him as his cologne invaded your sense of smell.

“No. He– He will make fun of my… poor memory… Um… Don’t tell him I came here, I’ll… just message him later.” Your voice became smaller and smaller at each word that came out of your lips, and Steve, poor Steve, was so out of it that he didn’t notice anything wrong.

“Okay, see you later Sweetness.” Your body almost gagged and jerked forward at the nickname, but you stayed put, still looking at the floor. Your mind was shutting down, you needed to leave.

“B-Bye.” You couldn’t even say his name as you turned around, walking back towards the elevator and pressing the button to go down, hearing the door closing before your metal doors shut together. Your eyes were still on the floor, not daring to look up as you tried, you really tried to make those last words disappear from your brain, but they were on repeat, and your body was numb.

You felt numb, automatic, going towards your car, and you don’t even remember starting it, you don’t remember how you even got to your complex, you don’t remember if you locked your car or not as you entered your apartment, your lost gaze just not centering on anything. You threw the keys on the counter, just simply dropping them somewhere as your feet slowly took you towards the bathroom.

He has a second job. He has a sex working job. And he has had it even before he met you, and he never quit it, and Steve said that he does it for pleasure sometimes. Was this one of the times? Right after last night with you? Maybe there was a mistake? Maybe that’s not what Eddie’s doing?

But he wasn’t home, and the fact was that he still has that job. He still does it because Steve said it as if it were a frequent thing. How many times have you messaged him or talked to him while he was with a client? Did he go to them after kissing you? Touching you? Sleeping with you? Were you not good? Were you not enough? Were you simple? Were you too complicated?

You took a deep breath in, trying to calm your heart, feeling it ripping at your chest, urging to come out of your body, to cry out, to yell into the sky and mourn. Your guts were twisting painfully, and you held your stomach just in case you had to turn around to empty your stomach out, because your world was spiraling all around you and it was making you dizzy.

Why didn’t he ever tell you about this job? Why wasn’t he honest with you from the very beginning? Maybe if he did you wouldn’t have fallen for him. Maybe if he did you would have been more cautious. Maybe if he did you wouldn’t feel like this, this sick, this dizzy, this broken. Why would he hide it from you?

You looked at your hands and saw that they were shaking at a very quick pace and you knew you were on the brink of a nervous breakdown, you could feel it. You held your chest as you tried to take deep breaths in and out again, trying to calm yourself down, trying to make everything make sense once again, trying to find a reasonable reason for everything, if there was any.

You turned to look at the sink, turning the faucet on and hunching downwards to finally wash your face, trying to make the cold water make you snap out of how bad your head was starting to hurt, how your throat felt like it was closing up at an alarming rate, and your oxygen felt like it was starting to run short. Your lungs were compressed inside your chest, making it slightly painful but nothing hurt more than your heart.

You straightened up with a heavy breath, a long pained huff, shakiness evident as you gripped onto the sink and finally, your eyes looked at your reflection. Every movement in your body stopped. Every tremble, every thought, every blood cell going through your veins, just everything froze as you stared at yourself… And the gears in your head started going backwards, even further, deeper, darker.

He lied to you. He lied to you. He lied to you.

You were never good enough, you were never going to compare, and somehow you always knew that, yet… He made you feel beautiful, confident in your clothes, confident in your makeup, confident in the way you spoke, in the way you expressed yourself, in the way you moved. He helped you. He helped you. Helped you.

HE SHAPED YOU.

“No…” You tried telling yourself as your body started rocking back and forth, not wanting to listen to your own brain, not wanting to hear the horrible things that it was saying about him because you were certain that he wasn’t evil. He wouldn’t do that to you, he wouldn’t do it, he didn’t seem capable of doing that. There was no evidence of him planning something like that.

But… He did say he always wanted to have you ‘like this’. Did he mean under him? Did he mean sexually? Did he mean… as if you were a conquest? A prize? You shook your head again, it couldn’t be. It couldn’t possibly be, not your Eddie, not your sweet and patient Eddie. Not the Eddie that made you feel like heaven yesterday, not the Eddie that made your life happier than it ever did before.

Yet, if he did go to that appointment with a private client today, did it mean he wanted to be with someone experienced? That he wanted to be with someone that knows what they’re doing? Someone prettier? Someone that actually makes him feel good? Someone that knows how to actually do that without asking? A regular?

HE GOT YOU. HE’S DONE.

No. No. No. It isn’t like that, it wasn’t a one time thing. It was never a one time thing. It shouldn’t have been a one time thing, you weren’t going to let your brain stain every memory you had of him, because in the end he was a great friend. A great friend who lied to you, a great friend that shaped you into what he liked, a great friend that you fell for.

You were trying to deny it, you were trying really hard, you can still talk to him, you can still ask him if it were true, but you knew it was, you knew that he was fucking other people, you knew that you weren’t special, you knew he didn’t feel the same as you did. Your mind was hazy now, dark patches blocking your eyesight as you felt the all too well burning sensation in them.

Your breathing started coming out of your mouth in huge gasps as you rocked back and forth, still looking at your reflection, looking at who you were now, looking at how different you are from before, looking at what you thought was what you actually wanted to look like… But what if it was never that? What if it was a plan all along? What if he saw it as a challenge? What if you were a challenge and he just wanted you perfect to his taste? This wasn’t you. This wasn’t you. This isn’t you.

HE MOLDED YOU.

A rough groan ripped from your throat as you pushed yourself away from the sink, tumbling out of the bathroom and rushing towards your kitchen, almost breaking a drawer out as you took your plastic bags out, your breathing heavy, angry, chest puffing out and down again, pain rushing all over your body like a sharp electric sting, hurting every place, every joint, every organ. Your feet ran towards your room as you looked all around, your eyes red from burning, your mind now in a dark cloud full of thunder.

You opened a plastic bag and rushed towards your vanity, putting your hand on the desk to start dragging every makeup product you bought for the past two months, grunts and pained whines escaping your throat as you pushed every mascara, lipstick, blush down into the bag.

You opened the drawers of it, now grabbing onto every piece of accessory you got, every little summer scarf he told you that looked good on you, every single thing he complimented you in was going into the bag. You can’t use that, you never used that, you didn’t know how to use any of this, so why keep lying, why keep being someone you are not for the sake of someone else?

You angrily pushed yourself off the vanity, making it rock back and forth and you stared now at your closet. You immediately grabbed another bag and you rushed towards it, flinging it open in a desperate move, getting hold of all the shirts he told you would look good in. All the jeans he helped you buy. All the sweaters he told you will look good on you in the winter.

Your tears were now running down your eyes as you threw each article of clothing into the bag, leaving behind your old stuff, your old shirts, your old jeans, your old pants, who you truly were, where you truly belonged. Secure, safe, and comfortable. You then flung the other side of the closet and your eyes widened when you saw all the jackets you never thought of buying before.

Everything was being taken off the hanger and thrown into a new bag, everything had to go, everything that reminded you of him had to go. Everything that smelled remotely like him, anything that held a memory of him had to go. All the skirts, one by one were being thrown into the bag, the shorts as well, and then the dresses. Things you never wore before in your life, the only time being your prom night.

You started ripping them out of your closet, throwing them all into a new bag, until you finally held onto one garment. A very specific one. You looked at it as you were about to throw it in, the purple color catching your eye as you straightened up to hold onto it with both of your hands. Tears came down your cheeks as you stared at the purple dress in your grasp.

Your first ever article of new clothing. The first time he complimented you. The first time he twirled you. The first time he took you in. The first time you felt confident in something you never wore before… And it was all fake. Everything was fake. He saw you as a hard conquest, and he got you, and even shaped you into what he wanted, making you desirable for him.

You sobbed harshly as you let your emotions finally rip from your chest, as you came down from your anger, from your thunder and all that was left was heavy rain. All that’s left is this pain in your chest of your first time feeling something you never thought you would feel, only to be ripped away seconds later. All that’s left… it’s this purple dress.

And you will still throw it into the bag.

End of part 7

A/N: I know it isn't as long as last one or the ones before, but next one is the last chapter, so... I hope I didn't hurt you all too much with this.

I hope you liked this chapter and always reblog your artists!

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munson-blurbs · 1 year ago

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Summary: You and Eddie finally get some much-needed alone time, and a confrontation at the Hawkins Preschool talent show tests your commitment to each other.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), protected p in v, fingering, oral (m! receiving), lil bit of edging, broken condom, breeding kink, mentions of Eddie's past, bullying, fighting, Jason Carver's mere existence, mostly fluff and smut before the angst of the next two chapters

WC: 9.2k

Chapter 15/20

Divider credit to @saradika Cutie pie Eddie pic credit to @/sunceddie

You wake up to an alarm set a full hour later than it typically is on a Friday morning, and the extra rest has you walking on air. Or maybe this newfound floatiness comes from knowing Eddie will be arriving soon, the two of you playing hooky from work to spend the day together. Your insides ignite with a rebellious fire, like you’re skipping class to smoke cigarettes underneath the bleachers, rather than taking a paid sick day that you’ve rightfully accrued.

Sunlight streams through the window, just a bit brighter than the usual smears of pink and orange that you normally see when you awaken. And while you still have to drag your yet-to-be-caffeinated body out of bed, the walk to the bathroom seems slightly less daunting.

You can’t let Eddie in fast enough when the intercom buzzes thirty minutes later. You were never naïve to the fact that dating a parent would mean having less privacy; what you didn’t know was how strongly you’d crave him.

Your hands are all over him the moment he steps through the door, simultaneously too much and not enough. Fingers lazily drape across the nape of his neck, and you can feel that his hair is already frizzy from the early April rain. Your breath hitches when you catch a glimpse of the burgeoning outline along the seam of his gray sweatpants.

His lips find yours easily, aiming to meet in the middle, but you press on your toes and bring your core to his. Your pajama top is thin; not sheer, but flimsy enough that he can feel the way you react to the chill of his leather jacket.

“Hello to you, too,” he murmurs with a laugh, muffled by a kiss that catches him off-guard. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to grab breakfast first, but—”

You shake your head, grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards the bedroom. “Sex first, food later.”

“Yes ma’am.” He uses his free hand to apply a quick smack to your ass, mesmerized at the way the supple flesh ripples underneath the flannel pants. Jesus, you’ve got him half-hard and you’re still in your pajamas.

He sits on the side of the bed, and you climb to straddle him, your inner thighs nudging his outer. “Been thinking about you,” you say, tugging his earlobe between your teeth.

Eddie pulls you even closer, one hand snaking up your shirt to cup your breast. He’s still cold from the rain and early morning frost, and his touch has your nipple pebbling. “What about me?”

“Well,” you trill, starting to slowly grind against the tented fabric of his pants. He exhales, a shiver of anticipation coursing through his veins. “I believe I promised my rockstar a reward for his amazing gig.” Your thoughts flit back to the night of Will’s party, when you’d snuck backstage and gotten a glimpse of him, his body pulsating with nerves that had almost immediately quelled at your touch. Another sensation had swept over him then, but that was an entirely different type of flutter.

Eddie nudges his nose against yours, a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. “Your rockstar?” He adores the phrasing. Yours. Belonging to you. And you belong to him; he won’t ever allow you to forget it. “What kind of reward did my favorite groupie have in mind?”

You slide off of him, giggling at the pout he gives you as your body loses contact with his. “Patience, Rockstar,” you warn him, though it’s difficult to contain yourself when you’re salivating just being eye-level with his erection. Your fingers dig into his waistband, and for the second time today, you’re glad for his choice of clothing. You don’t think you could handle buttons and zippers and belt buckles. Not today.

He hisses when your palm brushes along his hardened length, stiffening even while covered by his boxer briefs. A small wet patch marks his tip, leaking precum, and you press a chaste kiss to it. Almost instantly, you feel the tendrils of his thigh hair against your bare arms as his legs reflexively snap shut like a Venus flytrap catching its prey.

“Too much?” you mumble against his happy trail. While you relish in the thought of overstimulating him, you want to keep him on edge as long as you can.

Eddie shakes his head, curls scratching against his shoulders. “Jus’ wasn’t expecting it. ‘Cause you were using your hands, but then I felt your…never mind, I’m gonna shut up now.” He settles back into the mattress and eagerly awaits your next move.

You don’t make him wait long, lips drawn to his shaft with a magnetic force. You only stop to shimmy his underwear down his legs, tossing them to the corner of the room. His cock is flush against his tummy; you catch yourself staring at the dusting of wispy curls that trail from his upper groin down to his heavy sack.

Your dominant hand wraps around the base while the other leans on his thigh for balance. You lean in and spit, letting your saliva dribble down his length before flattening your tongue to lick up the pearly bead forming at the tip. Eddie’s abdominal muscles contract and his fists clench, never taking his eyes off of the beautiful woman on her knees for him.

He lets out a soft moan as you hollow out your cheeks to take more of him into your mouth. A string of syllables that barely resemble words escapes him. “Mmm, yes, oh, sh–fucking hell–thas’ it…” He twists the bedsheets between his fingers, inhaling sharply as your tongue glides up and down his cock. “S’pretty, fuck, gorgeous girl.” He watches intently, staving off blinks so he doesn’t miss a moment of him disappearing between your lips.

He’d once thought that he could never want more than sloppy post-gig hook-ups in dive bar bathrooms with girls whose names he’d never learned, though he wouldn’t have made an effort to remember them anyway. Girls who had only offered their mouths so they could lay claim to his body; the opportunity to brag that they’d blown Eddie Munson before he got famous.

That was before you, before you’d shown him the intoxicating mixture of longing and belonging, of lust and…

You continue drawing him closer and closer to his orgasm, nose grazing his thatch of pubic hair. His hips buck slightly, but your mouth is so full of him that it threatens to evoke your gag reflex.

“Shit, ‘m sorry,” Eddie blurts out, unfurling a hand from the sheets to cup your cheek. He pulls out, allowing you to take a deep breath.

You shake your head. “I liked it,” you tease with a wicked grin, wasting no time assuming your previous position.

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie throws his head back. “You like gagging on my dick? Fucking hell, babe.”

“Mhm.” The gentle vibration has him twitching, and you know he can’t last much longer. You bring your attention to his tip, sucking and giving soft kitten licks while your hand takes care of the rest of his length. He’s so painfully hard that you wouldn’t be surprised if he stayed that way long after finishing.

“Jus’…just like that. Oh, fuuuuuck,” he groans, silently calling upon every ounce of willpower in his body to keep his pelvis still so he doesn’t disturb the beautiful rhythm you’ve found. “Gonna cum…shit, baby, if you don’t want it in your mouth, you gotta stop now.”

But you do want it in your mouth, so you don’t stop, feeling warm ropes adorning your tongue just seconds later. He’s panting, chest heaving as though he was the one putting in the effort, but he still notices the way you swallow his thick load without missing a beat.

“Did you just…oh, my God. You’re perfect.” He throws his hands up in mock defeat. “I can’t…nothing I do will ever compare to you, I swear.” He motions for you to lay down next to him, and immediately climbs on top of you, the sweat from his chest transferring to your shirt. “Off,” he mumbles, pulling it over your head before you get the chance to do it yourself.

His lips swoop down to your left breast, tongue flickering over the nipple, and his dominant hand travels into your panties and expertly finds your clit. You let out a tiny whimper, barely audible over Eddie’s own grunts, finding pleasure in making you feel good.

“This body,” he mumbles, mouth still attached to your chest, “has me in a goddamn chokehold. It’s all I think about.” That isn’t quite true; he certainly spends plenty of time daydreaming of you, though it isn’t always in such compromising positions. Sometimes, you’re sleeping next to him in bed as he presses gentle kisses to the nape of your neck. Other times, he’ll be cooking dinner and picture you passing him the salt or handing him a serving spoon to dish out whatever noodle-based concoction he’s conjured up. Whatever he’s doing, he imagines you by his side.

“Can you kiss me?” Your request is timid but dripping with need.

Eddie nods, bringing himself to eye level with you and closing the gap between your faces. You taste of minty toothpaste and of him, and he curses himself for diving in headfirst without remembering to kiss you. “M sorry,” he apologizes for the second time that morning, and you forgive him with a soft bite to his lower lip.

Your arms rest on his shoulders and your legs wrap around his calf muscles, desperate to remain as close as possible at all times. No, you can’t stay like this forever, so you’ve got to make it count. “Need you inside me, Eddie.” Your voice nearly cracks, tears pricking at your lash line as the craving for him grows stronger. “Please.”

Eddie musters up a terse laugh. “Sweetheart, I just came, like, five minutes ago. You gotta give me a second to bounce back.” He lowers himself so he can whisper in your ear, “let me take care of you while we wait, hm?”

As soon as you nod, he’s yanking down your pajama pants and panties in one fluid motion. You can’t miss the way his eyes light up once you’re fully on display for him, taking in every centimeter of your body like his existence depends upon it. He starts to shimmy his way down, but your murmured “mm-mm” captures his attention.

“Still want you kissing me,” you say, gazing adoringly into his deep brown eyes. “Maybe you could just use your fingers?”

His instinct is to protest; he’s been desperate to taste you again ever since his tongue last touched the most intimate part of you, but he can’t deny you what you want. He’ll do just about anything to keep a smile on your face.

Without further hesitation, Eddie’s lips are on yours. He braces himself on his elbows as his hands cradle your cheeks. You can feel the heat of his cock, still spent and flaccid, against the top of your thigh. He shifts slightly so he can press one thick finger into your pussy, dragging in and out so deliciously that you barely notice his tongue slipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss as you moan.

“Y’like that?” It’s a gratuitous question; he can feel how much you like it in the way you’re clenching around him. “Gonna make my girl feel s’good.”

“Call me your girl again,” you whine, punctuating the plea with a gentle buck of your hips.

Eddie grins, ducking his head where your neck meets your collarbone and sucking lightly. It takes every ounce of strength he possesses not to mark you. He studies the moisture left behind by his lips and wishes it was the exquisite shades of blue and indigo that form when someone’s been claimed.

He slides a second finger inside you. “My sweet girl,” he coos, just a hint of patronization laced within his deep voice, “you like being mine? Belonging to me?”

Your stomach flips at his words; a gnawing hunger for Eddie Munson. “Love it. I…I love being your girl.” You allow your mind to clear, absorbing his gaze, his touch, his skin. The graceful arch of your back beckons him to move faster, tongue peeking from between his plush lips as he concentrates on your orgasm.

Each stroke within you inches you closer to euphoria. Eddie’s thumb is pressed to your clit, cementing his determination to tip you over the edge. He hits all the right spots, committing them to memory; his own personal pathway to the heavens.

It’s your turn to grab onto the bed sheets like a lifeline as pleasure surges through you. Your lips coat his in a warm layer of “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” the praise a victory chant to him. He waits until your eyelids flutter back open and your breathing steadies before taking his fingers from your center and into his mouth, licking your release off of his skin like a delicacy.

Your body may be splayed out on the bed, but your mind is adrift; its only focus is the float down from the high Eddie’s brought you to. If it weren’t for the throbbing reminder pressed to your leg, you might float right into the atmosphere.

You summon the willpower to prop yourself up on your elbows, watching intently as he fists himself to temporarily ease the ache.

“Why’re you doing that when ‘m right here?” you mumble, wetting your lower lip with a swipe of your tongue. You can only hope that there’s some semblance of a smile in your intoxicated expression. “Unless you…prefer your hand?”

“Fuck, no,” he grumbles, curls dancing along his shoulder blades as he loosens his grasp to dig through your top drawer. He shoves aside stray prescription bottles and various knickknacks that you’ve been meaning to go through until he finds what he’s been looking for.

He snatches up the teal box and practically tears the cardboard in half trying to open it. The snake of foil packets tumbles out and he scrambles for them, but you’re faster.

Wordlessly, you rip off one packet and carefully tear off the top. Eddie hisses as you roll the condom down his hardened length, more than ready to be inside you.

“Wanna ride you,” you tell him, pressing your palms to his soft pecs. “‘S that okay?”

“Is that—baby, if I ever say no to that offer, there’s something seriously wrong with me,” he laughs, already laying back on the bed. His hair splays across the pillow, brown curls swirling atop the cotton pillowcase like Van Gogh’s Starry Night.

Eddie inhales sharply as you sit above him, sheathed cock pressed to your heat in anticipation. He reaches out and grabs your breasts, one in each hand, kneading them in his palms. His thumbs brush over your nipples, gauging your reaction before giving them a small pinch.

Your moan, coupled with the way you grind against him, confirms your satisfaction, but he still asks, “Y’like when I do that?”

You offer him a little smirk, cocking your brow as you cheekily reply, “You tell me.”

He doesn’t have time to respond before you lift yourself and gradually sink down onto him, soaking in every moment of the delectable stretch. Bracing yourself on his chest, you feel him bottom out so he’s filling you entirely.

“Fuck, Sweetheart.” His hands move from your chest to your hips as he helps you adjust to the newfound fullness. “So tight. Feels‘mazing.”

“Just wanna take care of you, Eds. You’re so good to me; I wanna be good to you.” You bounce up and down, moving your hips so no part of your walls remains untouched by him.

He’s mesmerized at the jiggle of your flesh as it connects with his, momentarily rendering him speechless before he regains some composure. “You are. You’re so, so good for me. Can never get enough of my girl.”

You clench around him at the title ‘my girl’, earning you a smack to your ass. The sting makes you whimper, and he swiftly delivers another.

“You’re gonna make me cum too soon,” he huffs, blown-out pupils drifting from your eyes to where your bodies are joined.

You pause your movements to lean down, allowing him impossibly deep within you. “If it’s too much,” you murmur into his ear, hoping your edge-teetering tremble is hidden enough to effectively tease him, “maybe I should just…stop.” You slide your hips forward until only his tip breaches your hole.

Eddie’s jaw drops in complete disbelief. “You…you can’t fuckin’ do that to me.” You expect him to push the rest of his cock inside you and thrust until he’s completely spent, so you’re caught off-guard when he pulls out entirely. “All fours. Now.” He emphasizes his request with another spank, this one harder than the rest.

You oblige, palms pressed into the mattress and toes curled as you await him. He taps his shaft against your bottom once, twice, three times, and then plunges into your warmth.

“Ah—fuck—Eddie!” you cry, feeling the telltale twitch that informs you he’s close. Really fucking close. And then another sensation—a soft pop.

He realizes what it is before you do. “Fuckin’ condom broke!” he grumbles, pulling out again—even more begrudgingly than before—and tossing the split rubber to the floor. He opens a new one and rolls it on with lightning speed, eager to be enveloped in you once again.

“Wish we didn’t have to use those,” you mumble, willing yourself to stay steady despite the push from his pistoning hips. “Be so much easier without them.”

Picturing you taking him raw—you wanting to take him raw—is the last straw. “Yeah? You wanna feel all of me, baby?” he growls, nearly inaudible over the sound of his pelvis colliding with your ass. “Want me blowing my load so fuckin’ deep inside you?”

“Y-Yes,” you stammer, feeling that delicate wave approaching the shoreline, desperate to crest. “That’s exactly what I want, Eddie.”

“Keep saying my name,” he orders, wrapping one arm around you so his middle finger lays on your clit. Every part he touches makes you weaker for him, scavenging for the relief of release.

“Eddie, feels s’good,” you moan, legs threatening to crumple beneath you. “No one makes me feel like this ‘cept you, fuck, Eddie!”

You finish around him, squeezing him until he’s spilling into the condom with a primal groan of your name. He stays draped over you for a beat before flopping back onto the bed.

“You are…” he turns to you and grins as he searches for the right word, “spectacular.” He gingerly removes the barrier from his dick, tying it in a knot and tossing it into the trash can next to your nightstand. “C’mere.”

You lay on his chest, the sweat cooling as it hits your cheek. “Did you work up an appetite?” you tease, kissing just below his tattoo of a demonic head, “I can grab us some cereal, or we might have some frozen Eggos I could throw in the toaster.”

Eddie smiles so wide it threatens to escape the confines of his cheeks. “Sex and breakfast? You spoil me, Sweetheart.”

“Yeah, well; we need energy to power us through round two.” You scoot upwards to nuzzle into the crook of his neck, the salt of his perspiration tangy on your lips. “Give me a few minutes, okay? Do you like syrup on your waffles?”

“And butter?” he asks with a hopeful smile, peering at you through long eyelashes that would have had you darting to Bradley’s Big Buy if you didn’t already have a stick of Land O’ Lakes in the fridge.

You roll your eyes playfully. “Yes, Your Majesty,” you say, giving his bare thigh a small tap. “Would you also care for some freshly-squeezed orange juice? I can have the chef whip some up right away.”

Eddie throws his head back and laughs, slowly pushing himself up so he can help you in the kitchen. It dawns on him that he hasn’t felt this kind of peace after sex before; his mind has always been clouded with fears of getting too attached, of saying the wrong thing, of deluding someone into thinking he’s enough.

“God, I love you.” The words tumble out before he can stop them, and he freezes in place, one leg through his underwear. “Fuck, I mean–”

“It’s okay,” you rush to reassure him, noting the red tinge forming on the tips of his ears. “I’d say that to anyone who offered me breakfast foods, too.” You give him room to accept the out, to brush off his confession as a slip of the tongue. There’s no use in awarding merit to an accidental comment, regardless of what your skipped heartbeat tells you.

He considers it, every synapse and neuron firing at warpspeed. Maybe he could convince himself that it was an accident if it was the first time he’d felt this, the way your sunshine radiates through him and warms him from within. But that was far from the truth.

“No,” he finds himself saying, grasping onto every morsel of confidence he can find, “it’s not because of the food. I love you.”

Your voice catches in your throat. You want to believe that he’s reciprocating your feelings, but something nags at you. “Are you sure it’s not because we just had sex? Because sometimes that—”

“No,” Eddie repeats himself, unfolding the waistband of his boxer briefs and walking to you. “Because it wasn’t about sex when you calmed me down after the parent-teacher conference. It wasn’t about sex when you taught Harris how to read and bowl and be a better person than I’ll ever be. It wasn’t about sex when you cheered me on during our last gig, and it wasn’t about sex when I saw you holding Ettie.” He takes a deep breath and holds your hands as he gazes into your eyes. “And even after having sex, it isn’t about sex. It’s about you being the one for me. I love you, I love you, I love you.” He kisses your forehead, then your cheek, and finally your lips.

“I love you, too, Eddie.”

Just five words, six syllables, and he’s a goner. Seriousness melts into a sappy smile as he cradles your cheeks and presses the tip of his nose to yours. “Holy shit, we’re in love.”

You kiss him, tongue nudging his as your torsos meld together. If your stomach wasn’t gnawing for something to eat, you’d start round two right then and there.

Throwing on just a shirt and panties, you lead him into the kitchen before either of you can crawl back into bed. His hands never leave your body, snaking around your waist as you rifle through the freezer for the familiar yellow box. His head rests on your shoulder as you drop the waffles into the toaster and press the lever down.

“Eds?”

“Yes, my love?” he murmurs, pecking a soft kiss behind your ear. You both could have sworn that there was nothing better than him calling you ‘my girl,’ but you’re unashamed to stand corrected.

“Could you make yourself useful and grab some plates? Maybe get the syrup or butter?” you tease, noting the dramatic pout developing on his face. “What?”

“I’m keepin’ you warm,” he protests, sliding his hands over the cotton fabric of your faded t-shirt and grabbing your breasts. “And you’re not wearing a bra, so I gotta hold ‘em for you.”

He eventually obliges, setting two Chinette plates on the countertop and padding over to the refrigerator. He plucks the condiments from the side door and places them in the center of the table.

“Cups, too,” you remind him with a cheeky grin, pointing to a cabinet to your right. “No drinking out of the carton in my house.”

“Bossy this morning, aren’t we?”

The toaster chimes a charismatic ding! as the waffles jump out of their slots, and you carefully drop both onto one plate. “Here ya go,” you chirp, extending your arm so he can take his breakfast.

“Where’s yours?” His brows pinch together in confusion, a sly smile stretching his lips. “Don’t tell me I didn’t make you work up more of an appetite back there. Shit, shoulda had you ride me longer–”

Your hip collides with his in a purposeful shove. “I’m getting mine ready now. Go sit and eat, you horndog.”

Eddie drops the plate on the counter so quickly that the Eggos nearly fly off, pulling you from behind for a hug that squeezes all the air from your lungs. You squeal as he bites your neck and barks into it, solidifying that he has indeed earned the new nickname you’ve bestowed upon him.

He takes one of his waffles and places it on your empty plate. “We can eat together.”

You grab the orange juice from the fridge, giving the carton a shake before pouring the contents between the two glasses. It’s not until you sit down that you remember: “Oh, shit—utensils.” You start to get back up, but Eddie puts a hand out in a silent bid for you to stay seated, shuffling back to the kitchen. The drawer rattles as he pulls with just a bit too much strength, and he comes back with two knives and a single fork.

“You only got one—” you start, but he shakes his head.

“Don’t need it.” With that, he cuts off a hunk of butter and slathers it on top of his waffle, knife scraping against the little squares. He slathers every square inch in syrup, folds the waffle in half, and takes an exaggeratedly large bite.

“Eddie Munson!” you lightly chastise, still in shock at what you’ve witnessed. “Did you just eat that like a taco?”

“Sí, señorita.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “Oh, my God, I’m in love with a barbarian.” You reach for the bottle of Aunt Jemima and drizzle the sticky-sweetness onto your waffle. “What else is going on with you?” you ask, cutting the food into strips and spearing it with your fork. “Work’s good?”

“Work’s great, actually.” He starts to bring the waffle to his mouth but pauses just before taking a bite. Syrup drops onto the plate with a plop. “I almost forgot to tell you! The regional manager asked me to go to this thrift market in Indianapolis in a few weeks—all on the company’s dime—and try to snag some vintage records.”

“Eds, that’s amazing!” You leap up from your chair and lean in to kiss his syrupy lips.

He licks a smudge of butter from the side of his thumb. “Oh, but that’s not even the best part,” Eddie grins triumphantly. “The market just so happens to fall during spring break, and I was hoping you could join us?” His bare foot nudges yours under the table. “That is, if you think you can survive an entire weekend running after Harris?”

Your jaw drops in mock-offense. “One of us chases after children–plural–every day. Besides,” you add, taking a swig of juice, “Harris isn’t the one I’m worried about.” You gesture at his partially-demolished breakfast. “At least when he eats like this, he has the excuse of being a child.”

His reply is a flick of his left middle finger, his right hand busy jamming the remaining waffle-taco into his mouth. “And yet,” he retorts with his mouth full, “you can’t seem to get enough.”

He’s got you there: all you’ve ever wanted is sitting in front of you now, the corners of his chocolate-brown eyes crinkling as he stands. You allow your eyes to roam his body; not with lust, but adoration. Love.

Your cheek yearns to be pressed to his chest, your hand resting where the soft pudge of his tummy barely rolls over the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs. Your legs crave the connection of intertwining with his. You need his arms, biceps strong from lugging around music equipment and holding his son, wrapped around your torso and keeping you impossibly close. Keeping you safe.

You want to spend hours asking about the stories behind the tattoos that adorn his chest, whether meaningful or the result of sheer boredom. You want to curl up on the sofa and put on a movie, absorbing none of it as you spend the entire duration lost in his lips.

The brush of his thumb against your knuckles stirs you from your roaming thoughts.

“Can I ask you something?”

Eddie sits up a bit straighter, hand never leaving yours. “Shoot.”

“Is it…” you fumble for the right words, “why are you like this now?”

“I’m sorry?” His brows knit together in obvious confusion. “Why am I like…what?”

“This,” you repeat, gesticulating at the man before you, warm and tender and completely unlike the stranger you’d hooked up with nearly eight months ago. “Why is the guy who once kicked me out of his apartment currently having breakfast with me half-naked and inviting me on a trip with his son?” Your tone is inquisitive, curious, and Eddie heaves a silent sigh of relief when he doesn’t detect a hint of judgment.

He doesn’t answer your question outright; instead, he poses his own: “Do you not believe that I love you?” He bites his lower lip, mind churning with the early memories you’d made together, the ones he wishes he could lock away and never remember.

Your heart lurches at your accidental implication. “I do! Shit, Eddie, I know you love me. And I love you, too.” You pause to lift his hand to your mouth, leaving the gentlest of kisses along his fuzzy knuckles. “I guess I just wanna know why you even let yourself love me. Why you didn’t stick to the Cat-and-Mouse. Why…why you chose me.”

He exhales, an incredulous huff of laughter passing through his lips. “You wanna know why I started only having one-night stands? Or why I stopped?”

“Both?” you try.

“So, um,” his eyes look everywhere but at you, “I never really got attention until I moved to Chicago and started playing with that band. All of a sudden, women wanna sleep with me, and I don’t have to, like, beg them.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “But they didn’t really want to fuck Eddie Munson; they just wanted to fuck the lead singer and guitarist of Hard Knox. Didn’t matter if it was me or some other random guy.

“One night, I’m…y’know…with this one girl, and I asked her to say my name.” His cheeks tinge red and he swallows hard. “And she looks at me with these wide eyes, and I realized she didn’t even fucking know it.”

“Did you know hers?” The question comes out before you can stop it, but you already know the answer.

He rubs his eyes with his whole palm. “After that, I realized that the only difference between the Eddie who got laid and the Eddie who didn’t was that no one I slept with really knew me. And if they ever figured out that I’m just this big ol’ nerd who spent high school playing Dungeons & Dragons, they’d…” He flexes his hands to make a poof! motion. “So I decided not to let them get to know me.”

“But then…”

“But then,” he acquiesces, “you show up at the bar, looking like a goddamn dream, and I put up that cocky lead singer persona on instinct. Because that’s the only version of me that women ever wanted to be with.” He sighs. “And then I let my guard down, ask you to spend the night, and I’m thinking, ‘I gotta get her outta here before she sees who I really am. Before she sees that I’m not a rockstar; I’m just a mediocre dad who sells weed to scrape by.’”

You move so quickly that you practically knock over your chair, standing behind him and wrapping your arms around the top of his chest. Your chin rests on his scalp, and he can feel the vibration in your throat as you murmur, “nothing about you is mediocre, Eddie Munson.”

He lays his head on your forearm, kissing it softly before lacing his fingers with yours. “Sometimes, I think I’m just buying time until you get sick of me.”

You shift your position so your lips can brush the side of his neck. “I didn’t fall for the guy on stage that night. I mean, yeah, you looked incredibly hot,” you tease and nip at his collarbone, “but I’m in love with Eddie Munson: the man who gets excited when his son reads a new word, who teases me for liking olives on my pizza, who knows the lyrics to every song ever made–including the ones he claims to hate.”

“Well, Eddie Munson–the real Eddie Munson–is so goddamn lucky to be loved by you.” He turns so he’s facing you, strong hands on your hips as he gazes up with starry eyes.

You cradle his cheeks, stooping down so your noses touch. “You deserve to be loved.”

“Yeah.” The word is more breath than sound. “Yeah, I think I’m finally starting to believe that.”

The remainder of your day is spent having copious amounts of sex; Eddie had insisted on ‘making up for lost time,’ taking breaks only for a quick lunch and a shower.

“Come with me to pick up Harris,” Eddie says as he wraps the bath towel around his waist. Water drips from the ends of his curls down to the dimples on his lower back. “We’re going to Jeff and Viv’s after so he can meet Baby Ettie.”

You raise your eyebrows in amusement, bending over to dry your legs. “I took a sick day today,” you remind him. “I can’t just show up there in your car, like, ‘nothing to see here!’”

“I’ll park far away,” he says with a shrug. “No biggie.” There’s a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “I mean, I could tell Harris that Ms. Sweetheart was supposed to be with us, but she said no—”

You swat at his chest and he pulls back, feigning pain. “You wouldn’t!”

“Try me.”

That’s how you ended up hunched over in the passenger seat of Eddie’s sedan, hiding from any passersby who could potentially recognize you. It only takes a few minutes before you hear the sound of Harris’s little voice, chewing his dad’s ear off about his day at school.

“...and then me an’ Charlie traded me snacks, an’ no one even sawed us!” He’s cackling like it’s the funniest joke. “He had my pretzels and I had his gummies, and it was so silly!”

“Gummies, huh?” Eddie clicks his tongue, “well, that explains the sugar rush.” Their voices get louder as they approach the car. “By the way, Har Bear, I have a surprise for you.”

As he says it, Harris opens the back door and hops into the car, eyes widening when he sees you sitting up front. “Ms. Sweetheart!” he exclaims, bouncing into his booster seat with pure exhilaration. “What are you doing in Daddy’s car?”

“I figured I could see Baby Ettie with you guys,” you say as nonchalantly as possible, a stark contrast to the little boy practically vibrating from excitement, “if that’s okay with you.”

“Yes, yes, YES!” Harris shouts, his words aimed directly in Eddie’s ear as he tries buckling his son’s seatbelt.

“Jesus H. Christ,” he mutters, wincing as he massages the opening of his ear canal with his forefinger. “Take it down a notch, little man.” He fumbles with the belt until he hears the familiar click. He dons a deep voice to announce, “Keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times,” and Harris draws his limbs inwards with a giggle while Eddie closes his door.

“Daddy? Can we listen to music?”

“Mhm.” Eddie reaches for the radio dial, then stops. “Should we let Ms. Sweetheart choose the tape? Since she’s our special guest?” He shoots you a grin that sends a flip-flopping sensation behind your ribs.

Harris taps his finger to his chin in contemplation. “Hmm…okay! Can she pick Metallica?”

“Not quite sure that’s how it works…” Eddie scrunches up his face and scratches at his jawline.

You turn around to face the boy, whose curly hair is now identically frizzy to his father’s. “Actually, Metallica sounds great to me,” you say, adding a thumbs-up for good measure.

“Metallica it is!” Eddie pops in the cassette, the mechanical wheels whirring for a moment before Fight Fire with Fire blares through the speakers. He rests his palm on the back of your seat as he backs out of the spot, tongue poking from his lips in concentration.

Harris alternates between headbanging to the music and babbling about school throughout the drive to Jeff and Viv’s. His energy seems endless as he hops out of the car and races to their front door.

“Har, remember,” Eddie calls out, “we have to be calm and gentle around the baby. Don’t wanna scare her.”

Harris nods as Jeff opens the door. “Mini Munson!” He gives a tired smile, stifling a yawn. “Ready to meet your new cousin?” He chuckles when Harris jumps up and down and squeals. “I’ll take that as a yes. Go ‘head and sit on the couch, kiddo.”

Harris follows Jeff’s instructions, and you and Eddie trail close behind him. Jess and Robin are also there; the latter woman is currently holding Ettie, lightly rocking the newborn in her arms.

“Do you wanna hold her?” she asks Harris, who looks to you and his dad in a silent plea for permission.

“Up to you, Har,” Eddie says with an encouraging smile. “We’ll help you, if you want.”

Harris nods, shuffling so his back is pressed up against the sofa. He squirms anxiously, kicking his feet as he waits for you and his dad to join him.

Eddie sits on his right side, and you take the empty space to his left. “I’ll help you hold her head,” you promise him. “You can hold your arms out like this,” you demonstrate, resting your forearms on your lap with your palms facing the ceiling, and Harris mimics your actions. “There ya go.”

Robin carefully walks over and places Ettie in Harris’s outstretched arms, ensuring that you’re supporting the baby’s head before she fully lets go. For a few moments, Harris just stares at the little girl, seemingly unsure how to react. Finally, he softly murmurs, “she’s so little!”

“Sure is,” Eddie laughs, poking at one of her tiny toes in amazement. “Would you believe that you were even more little when you were a baby?” His grin deepens when Harris’s jaw drops in disbelief. “It’s true! You were the tiniest little thing I’ve ever seen.” As he says it, a lump forms in his throat, and he swallows it before anyone notices the catch in his voice. You don’t need to hear it, though, and you use your free hand to discreetly rub his back in silent reassurance.

Harris purses his lips as he stares at his new cousin, clearly unaffected by the anecdote. “Does she do any tricks?”

His question has the entire group stifling laughter, and Eddie turns pink with embarrassment as he quickly explains, “she’s not a dog, buddy. And she was only born a few weeks ago, so she pretty much just eats, sleeps, and poops.”

“Ew,” Harris’s nose wrinkles in disgust at the last activity, though you’re willing to bet a large sum of money that he’s made at least one poop-related joke today. “So when can I teach her how to play Legos?”

“Not for a while,” Viv admits with a kind chuckle, “but when she’s ready, I promise that we’ll let her big cousin Harris show her how it’s done.”

Her answer placates him, at least temporarily, and he cautiously brushes his forefinger against Ettie’s scalp, smoothing down her wisps of hair. You take the moment to glance over at Eddie, only to find him looking right at you.

Hi, he mouths, though there’s so much more he wishes to say. When Harris was Ettie’s age, Eddie was exhausted, overwhelmed, constantly on the brink of breaking down. He’d sworn to himself and anyone else who would listen that he’d never go through the newborn stage again, but he’s mesmerized by the sight of you and Harris cuddling a baby. He wants this, he wants this with you, sleepless nights and spit-up stained clothes no longer strong enough deterrents.

Hi, you mouth back, suppressing words that ache to spill from your lips. Your pulse quickens at the way Eddie watches his son, not with scrutiny, but with admiration and awe, as though he can’t believe he’d created such a wonderful little human. Teaching children never translated over to a desire for motherhood, but you can suddenly picture yourself helping Harris hold your baby, a baby that symbolizes the love between you and Eddie.

“They look like a little family.” Robin’s attempted whisper grabs your attention; a brief scan of the room shows that everyone else is looking at her, too. Her cheeks flush a deep red and she mutters, “sorry,” swooping in to scoop Ettie into her arms.

An awkward silence hangs in the air until Jess clears her throat. “How was work today?” she asks you, and though you don’t have an actual answer to the question, you’re grateful for the subject change.

“I took the day off,” you reply nonchalantly. “Wanted to catch up on rest, y’know…” You trail off, hoping your non-answer suffices.

“What about you, Ed?” Jeff tries.

“Oh, uh,” Eddie stammers, nervously running a hand through his hair, “I also took the day off.”

Jeff’s gaze flits between the two of you until he finally manages an elongated, “…cool.”

Luckily, Harris is oblivious to the adults’ conversation. “Uncle Jeff, are you coming to my talent show next week?”

“Talent show?” Jeff glances at Eddie with an amused smirk.

“Uh, yeah, ‘s this parent-kid thing at his school,” Eddie hurriedly explains, trying not to trip over his words. He’s still stuck on what he’s implied by admitting that he’d also called out of work. “I didn’t know how busy you’d be with Ettie—”

Viv smiles. “I think he can sneak out for an hour to see his favorite nephew.”

“Robs and I can help out here if you need,” Jess offers to her sister, “as long as Jeff brings the camcorder so we have video evidence of this performance.”

“Absolutely not.” Eddie shuts the idea down immediately, but his protest is drowned out by the sound of Harris cheering.

“Daddy and I are gonna—”

Eddie claps a ringed hand over his son’s mouth. “It’s a surprise.” He looks at you for a moment, bashfulness infiltrating his expression with a timid smile and downcast eyes, and you realize that the surprise is for you.

Harris wriggles out of Eddie’s grasp with a discontented sigh, sliding off the couch and onto thr floor. “I didn’t tell Ms. Sweetheart,” he protests, and Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose as he gathers any remaining patience.

Ettie puckers up her face and lets out a wail that seems far too big for her teeny body, but it serves as the perfect reason to leave. You hug everyone goodbye and give the cranky baby’s feet a gentle tickle before you head out the door. Harris gallops ahead, giving Eddie the opportunity to guide you with a soft press of his hand to the small of your back. Before he's fully outside, he leans in to Jeff, whispering “I told her,” ending the statement with a grin.

“My man!” Jeff grabs Eddie’s shoulder and gives it a small shake. “Let me know when to buy my tux for the wedding.”

“Jesus, you sound like Harris.”

Spending time at Hawkins Preschool outside of contracted work hours would normally be a scenario straight out of a nightmare. This afternoon; however, you’re here to see the most adorable little boy and his handsome dad perform some sort of mystery talent, which makes it all worthwhile.

The cafeteria has been transformed into an auditorium of sorts, with neat lines of metal folding chairs replacing the long tables that typically fill the space. An area at the front of the room has been sectioned off for the performances, and the entire place is abuzz with excitement about the adorableness that is about to ensue.

You spot Jeff and Wayne sitting in the third row from the back and you give them a little wave, bounding over to take the empty seat to Jeff’s left. The smile on your lips quickly transforms into a frown when you see him shake his head, placing his palm on the chair.

“I’m under strict orders to make sure you sit in the front row,” he says with a knowing smirk. He shoos you away, and you begrudgingly turn from their familiar faces, but not before catching a twinkle in Wayne’s eyes.

Soon after you find a seat close to the makeshift stage, Principal Sinclair steps up to the microphone.

“Welcome, friends and family, to our annual talent show fundraiser!” There’s a polite smattering of applause before she speaks again. “Our students—and their parents—have quite a show for you all. First up is Miss Abigail Carver and her mom, Chrissy, who will be performing a cheer routine!”

You clap as Abby and Chrissy step out, green and yellow pom-poms in hand. Your student recognizes you immediately, running over to give you a quick hug that elicits a resounding aww from the audience members. She rushes back to her spot as she and her mother cheer on the Hawkins Tigers in unison.

Next is another student of yours, Joshua Harrington. His dad hoists a Fisher Price basketball hoop and places it on the ground so the two of them can show off their “slam dunks.”

After a few more students from other classes, it’s finally the moment you’ve been waiting for.

“Please welcome Harris Munson and his dad, Eddie, who will be singing a song!”

No sooner do you call out, “Yay, Harris!” do you hear it:

“Freak.”

It’s low enough that no one else catches it; you probably wouldn’t have, either, if the culprit wasn’t sitting directly behind you. You turn around to see Jason Carver, camcorder by his side, poorly stifling a snicker.

Your hands clench, balled into fists, so tight that you feel your fingernails digging into your palms. It’s too tempting to smash his camera—no, smash his stupid face—but you inhale and then exhale for three seconds apiece. Today is about Harris and Eddie, and no overgrown bully is going to ruin that.

Still, you have to bite back a smile at the thought of Jason sporting a black eye, courtesy of the Freak’s girlfriend herself.

When Harris and Eddie take to the performance space, your anger evaporates and your heart becomes heavy with emotion. Harris is front and center, body slightly turned as he watches his dad get settled on a wooden stool and gives his acoustic guitar a tune. The boy dons a black suit that’s a size too big for him, his hands barely peeking out of the sleeves. He’s got on a tie that has to have been borrowed from an adult; you can’t imagine Eddie or Wayne wearing one, so maybe Jeff loaned it. The best part is the fedora that rests atop his messy mop of curls.

“Hi, Ms. Sweetheart!” he says with a grin so wide it likely hurts his cheeks, letting out a shriek of delight when you wave. “This song is for you!”

Eddie murmurs a soft, “two, three, four,” and strums a melody that immediately has your eyes welling with tears.

“You make me feel so young,” Harris croons, mouth right up to the mic, “you make me feel so spring has sprung!”

To anyone else, it seems like a silly play on the fact that he is, in fact, young. You know it’s so much more.

“And every time I see you grin, I’m such a happy individual!”

He’s singing Frank Sinatra. He’s dressed as Frank Sinatra. And you know it had to be Eddie’s idea, considering Harris’s musical repertoire teeters between Raffi and Metallica.

He skips a few verses, and when he does, Eddie locks eyes with you and offers a tiny close-mouthed smile.

“And even when I’m old and gray I’m gonna feel the way I do today ‘Cause you make me feel so young!”

You choke down the sob that threatens to escape as they circle back to the chorus. The memory of Grandma’s final Thanksgiving, consisting of singing along to Fly Me to the Moon and sharing store-brand Oreos, soars around your mind. The way she had so easily slipped back into her old self, if only for a moment. The way Eddie had held you and kissed your scalp, protecting you from a force no one could see but everyone could feel.

“You make me feel so young You make me feel so young Ooh, you make me feel so young!”

The song ends and you leap to your feet, cheering just as loudly as you did the other night at the Hideout for Corroded Coffin. You swipe at a stray tear and force yourself to look at your boyfriend, so effortlessly beautiful in a black t-shirt and jeans.

Thank you, you mouth.

I love you, comes his silent reply.

You gaze into each other’s eyes for another beat before you feel a thud against your legs. Harris stands right before you, ignoring the way all of the other kids proceeded out the door after their performances.

“Are those happy tears?” he asks, brows furrowing in concern as he notices your stained cheeks. When you nod, still too overcome with emotion to speak aloud, his face splits into a grin. “Good.” His arms wrap around your waist in a hug that nearly has you toppling over, and you rest your hand on his upper back to steady yourself.

“Easy, Har Bear,” Eddie’s voice is strong but tender, and your entire body relaxes in his presence. You want to pull him in by his belt loops and kiss him, running your fingers through his curls until you’re both smiling too hard to continue. If only you weren’t at your place of work, if only all eyes weren’t on you, if only–

“Looks like the Freak’s got a crush.”

A smattering of the audience members laugh at this, no one more so than the instigator himself. You whirl around reflexively, eyes narrowing at the smug blonde man behind you. Eddie takes a small step forward, quietly telling Harris to go back with his friends as he zeroes in on his longtime nemesis.

He’s going to hit him, you realize, noting the subtle clench of his jaw and twitch of his flexing bicep. I have to stop him before he does something he regrets.

Eddie’s hand shoots out, grabbing Jason’s collar and pulling him in with a jolt. There’s a soft gasp from the crowd followed by silence as everyone waits for Eddie’s next move. You can hear the scraping of metal chairs on the ground as Wayne and Jeff scramble to mitigate the situation before it can escalate further.

To your surprise��and relief–Eddie doesn’t throw any punches; instead, he grits his teeth and hisses, low enough so only you and Jason can hear:

“Don’t ever talk about her again.”

He lets go with a small shove, and Jason stumbles back just as Principal Sinclair arrives to break it up. While time came to a screeching halt, the whole interaction spanned fewer than ten seconds.

Wayne and Jeff reach him first, guiding him out of the cafeteria. The older man keeps his eyes on his nephew, but Jeff shoots Jason a steely glare, insinuating that Jason had better heed Eddie’s warning if he wants to live to see his daughter go to kindergarten. You follow behind and attempt to keep your composure.

“I’m so sorry,” Eddie breathes as soon as the four of you are alone. “I shouldn’t have…I just fuckin’ hate that guy.” His eyes dance with anxiety, not sure whether to look at you, his friend, his uncle, or the ground.

You take his hands in yours, imploring him to focus on you as you reach up to brush his curls off of his face. “It’s okay–”

Eddie shakes his head. “I ruined everything. This was supposed to be about Harris, and about making you happy…” He takes a step back, rubbing his eyes with a low, exasperated, “fuck!”

“Baby–”

“I’m gonna get Harris,” Eddie starts to walk away, speaking to himself as though you hadn’t said a word, but he stops in his tracks when Wayne puts his hand on his shoulder.

“Listen to your girl,” he says simply, motioning for Jeff to come fetch Harris with him.

Eddie doesn’t dare protest, trudging back to face you. He’d fucked up royally, and he knew it. What was he thinking, putting his hands on Jason Carver in the middle of a goddamn preschool talent show?

“Eddie,” you take his hand in yours and give it a squeeze, “it’s okay. I’m not mad; I just wish he didn’t get under your skin like that.” You rub your thumb along his forefinger. “He’s not worth it, I promise.”

“I just…” Eddie mumbles, thoughts too scrambled to find the words he needs. He heaves a long sigh. “I shouldn’t have done it here.”

You can’t really argue with that; out of all of the places Eddie could fight Jason, your job wasn’t your favorite option.

“Can I tell you a secret?” You press onto your toes to whisper in his ear. “I almost did the same thing earlier today.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” you confirm, nudging the toe of your shoe against his scuffed sneaker. “And I have a feeling most people in this town would agree with me.” The notion makes Eddie smile, and you continue. “Let me take you and Ol’ Brown Eyes out for ice cream to celebrate your amazing performance. Please?” You throw a puppy-dog look his way, though he needs little convincing.

Still, a nagging thought tugs at him that he has to resolve before can allow himself to relax. “There might be people there. People we know.” People like Jason Carver and Carol Perkins, he silently adds. “It’s okay if you don’t want to…we can just grab a half-gallon from Bradley’s and bring it home.”

You shake your head, effectively turning down his offer. “I’m taking my boyfriend and his adorable son to Scoops Ahoy, and the three of us are gonna split a fudge sundae,” you say matter-of-factly.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Are you sure you’re okay with people knowing about us? Being branded ‘The Freak’s Girlfriend’? Hearing people gossip about whatever the Hawkins rumor mill has churned out?

The sensation of your lips on his tempers the overworked gear shifts in his brain. When you pull back, you’re smiling at him.

“Positive.”

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#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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marcsburnerphone · 10 months ago

Text

And they were roommates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: nightmares, awko moments, kissing?

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6!!!!! -part 7

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

The next morning when John woke up it was as if his life had changed filters, like if he went from dramatic cool to dramatic warm. There was a small pep in his step as he got out of bed. You were usually always asleep before 9AM so he decided he’d go buy the two of you breakfast from this small cafe you like not too far down the road, he knew when he was younger there was nothing like a good breakfast after a night of drinking.

On the other hand when you woke up you thought you’d dreamt it, the kiss couldn’t have been real. You’d never be that bold. But the nervous jitter in your belly at the thought of leaving your room was telling you all you needed to know. Along with the smile that’s been plastered on your face since the sound of your rattling windows from the heavy breeze woke you up.

Thankfully no hangover so therefore life’s great. You did desperately want to shower though after waking up in the same clothes you went out in. Which also meant it was going to have to be laundry day.

When he got back he picked up on the sound of your shower running and the steam that escaped beneath the door. He set the food in the kitchen unpacking what was his and yours, placing it in your usual seats at the table.

After a long shower filled with music and wasted water you dressed into comfortable home clothes, basically pajamas. Gathering the sheets and blankets from your

bed in a bear hug you begin to make your way to the laundry room, when you get there you drop everything on the floor with a huff.

“Doll?” John says from down the hallway as the sound of his footsteps grow closer

“Hey, goodmorning.” Shit shit shit.

“Morning, I got breakfast if you’re hungry.” He notices the way you slightly stiffen and how you don’t look back to greet him.

“Yeah actually, Thankyou.” Back to your shy nature he presumes, except he’s seemingly stepped out of his. There’s nothing John Price loves more than being on the same page as someone and if he’s assured of anything it is that you feel the same way he does.

“Okay, it’s on the table. I’ll eat when you do.” He says, walking away.

You let out a sigh of relief when he left, smiling to yourself at the girlish feelings so alive in you. When you finally made it to the kitchen you saw his silhouette outside. Even in the harsh weather he stood with a beanie and jacket on, lit cigar between his lips.

You give two knocks on the kitchen window catching his attention. When he notices you he snuffs the cigar into the small ashtray you bought for him and heads inside.

“You’re crazy for standing out there.” You say softly as you notice the effort it takes him to slide the door shut.

“I’ve done crazier.” He remarks.

You sit on the table as he does the same. You get that familiar warm feeling in your cheeks when you realize he got your exact order. Maybe it’s from the million times you’ve phone ordered it, regardless it’s sweet.

“So.” You say trying to see if he’ll be the one to bring it up.

“So?” He says with a smirk taking a sip of his coffee.

“So, I kissed you last night.” You have to talk about it, you could never be the one to just let it be.

“Did you?” He smirks.

“I did, and I want to know if that was okay with you or if I misread the room.” He laughs a little wondering if maybe he’s too subtle.

“No misreading was done love, next time I’d just appreciate a proper one.” The blush on your face gives him even more confidence.

“Well for your information I intended on giving you an actual kiss but my coordination had been slightly off.” You laugh as you say it cause although it’s embarrassing it’s very true.

“Well doll, there’ll be more opportunities I’m sure of it.”

“Oh Okay.” Lord save you.

“Besides your rendezvous, I wanted to know if I could have some pals over tomorrow. We have some work to do and I’m not quite keen on going to base.”

“Of course.”

—————

That night you decide to cook dinner, it’s only fair since he bought breakfast. You both agreed on pasta since you have all the ingredients for it. Although you told John you could cook alone he insisted he’d help as it’s the nice thing to do but truthfully he just wanted to be around you.

“So you grew up not too far from here?” He asks as you dice garlic.

“Yeah about an hour away.” You have your hair pulled back and are constantly moving the stray pieces from your face.

“Do you ever visit home?”

“Hah absolutely not, stay as far away from it as possible.” He doesn’t question it further but doesn’t miss the tone in your voice when you speak of it.

“I hear you talk to your sister a lot, are you close?” He loves hearing you talk, loves getting to know you even more.

“Yeah, she’s my best friend.” You smile, reminding yourself to call her and update her on these past two days.

“What about you, any siblings?” You ask looking over to him seeing that he’s done chopping the tomatoes and now just leans against the counter.

“No, only child.”

“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed. You're very selfless.” It’s nice to hear from you. You’re the only thing he can imagine being selfish about.

“Years of being in the military will do that to you.”

He takes the pasta off the burner and drains it through the strainer. When he puts the empty pot back onto the burner you begin on the sauce.

“Will the same people I met when you first moved in be the ones coming?”

“Yeah.” He says while setting placemats and cutlery on the table.

You’re content in the low hum of radio music that fills in the silence amongst you two. He still stands near you but no words are being said. He watches the way you precisely add different ingredients one by one. When you're done you serve onto the plates for both of you.

“Thank You doll.”

“It was a team effort so thankyou.” You offer him a small smile before you both begin to eat. Conversation flows nicely between bites. He makes you laugh over dumb stories from his time in the military and you tell him embarrassing stories that happened in middle school. He feels normal, like a human when he’s around you. Like his hands are clean of all the violence he’s committed in his life.

When dinner is over you tackle the dishes together, you wash, he dries and puts away till there’s no more.

“Well I’ll see you Tomorrow then.” You say washing your hands and drying them on the kitchen towel.

“Goodnight love.” Before you can get the chance to turn down the hall to your room he’s calling out to you.

“Yeah?” He makes his way towards you and it’s slightly intimidating till he reaches you, positioning a gentle and slightly rough hand on your cheek before placing a long proper kiss to your lips. It’s electric now that you’re fully sober. Warm yet slightly needy. He pulls away and places one more on the corner of your lips like you had his.

“That’s a proper kiss doll.” He jests.

“I can definitely tell the difference.” He laughs a little, swiping a stray hair behind your ear.

“Sleep well.” He adds before heading back down the hall.

—————-

“And we kissed again last night too.” You talk into the phone while kicking your feet under the covers as you still lay in bed awake earlier than usual.

“You didn’t.” She couldn’t be happier for you. You worried her sometimes, she knew you never were outwardly going to look for someone new and since she lived so far away she couldn’t just check up on you when she wanted so she smiles widely as you tell her about your escapades.

“We did, I really like him, you know.” You really really do.

“I’m so happy for you.” She laughs but before you can respond there’s a knock at your door.

“Hold on, come in.” You slightly yell out. John opens the door taking notice of the phone by your ear.

“Sorry doll, I wanted to come tell you that my mates will be here soon, just a heads up.” You smile, giving him a thumbs up with your free hand.

If life loved John as much as he wished he’d be lying next to you by now. Instead he smiles at you with a wink and closes the door.

“That was him, did you hear him?” You laugh.

“If the voice matches the man, my sister you are lucky, not as lucky as him though, don’t forget that.”

You talk for a while longer before letting her get back to her busy life. When you get out of bed you hear deep voices enter your home traveling to where you assume would be John’s office.

You change into a simple outfit, certainly nothing extravagant, but also not pajamas. On your way to the kitchen you turn the heater on so it can warm up before it gets colder outside. You search the fridge wondering what to eat for breakfast and decide on eggs and toast.

—

“Captain, do you have a water bottle I can grab?” Gaz asks, they’re doing a lot of talking and debriefing on their last mission filing the paperwork they’ve all avoided.

“Em yeah in the fridge on the door.” The captain dismisses him trying to type in certain coordinates.

“Grab us one too.” The two other men say as Gaz gets up and leaves. When he makes it to the kitchen he notices you but doesn’t know what to say.

“Hello ma’am.” That’s all he could come up with.

“Jesus good god, hello gaz.” You jump in surprise at the unfamiliar yet not complete stranger.

“Sorry sorry.” You wave him off as he apologizes.

“I think I get startled too easily.” You laugh and he smiles.

“Just came to grab water.” He says motioning forward to your fridge.

“Yeah no problem.”

“You have a stunning kitchen by the way, really like the white cabinets.” He compliments.

“Really, when my ex and I got the house I had the old ones which were a grayish color removed and put these ones in, he hated it.” You laugh at the memory.

“A man with no taste. These are lovely and this lighting, it’s really beautiful.” You thank him again and go into mindless conversation about other remodeling projects you had done, he had questions after everything you said and lost track of time.

—

“Gaz, where were you when the explosion happened?” Price questions and looks up after a minute when there’s no response.

“He hasn’t come back yet, captain.” Soap says with a small grin. “I think he’s chatting it up with the lass out there.”

Their captain gets out of his chair. Silently leaving the room to go see what his sergeant is up to. As he approaches the kitchen he hears you laughing and relaxes his tense features before walking into the kitchen.

“So these used to be granite tiles till I changed them to white ones.” You say pointing at the backsplash above the counter.

“You could be an interior designer.” Gaz remarks and you smile.

“Sergeant, where should you be?” John uses the voice of a captain, one you're not very familiar with.

Both of you turn to look at him and you start to defend him.

“Sorry John, I kept him here, that’s my fault.” You say looking at him apologetically. He wants to tell you to stop making those eyes at him because they make him soft, too soft.

“Sergeant back to work.” He says as gaz bids you a smile and mouths Thank You, he quietly passes John to get back to his office.

“Is that your scary man voice?” You ask him with a small smirk.

“It can be a lot scarier.”

“I like it.” He’s weak for you, physically and emotionally this man craves you in ways that are impossible to comprehend.

“Careful.” Is all he says before walking away. He leans against the wall by his office out of view from anyone quickly adjusting his pants like a boy in puberty before getting back to work.

——

By the time they're done it’s nearly midnight. You're laying on the couch watching a movie when you hear the heavy footsteps of the men reach the kitchen and John’s in particular make their way to you.

“You’re still up?” He asks, looming over the back of the couch.

“Can’t sleep.”

“The winds are heavy and it’s a little late. I was wondering if they could stay the night? They’ll sleep in my room. If not doll please don’t be hesitant to let me know.” He asks quietly.

“Yeah that’s fine, where will you sleep?” You smile softly at him and his tired eyes.

“Out here.” You nod letting him know it’s okay before he leaves for a second to tell them. They all Thank You as you get up to grab extra blankets from your closet.

You bring them to John’s rooms seeing them all figuring out where and how they’re going to sleep. You ask John if you could talk to him real quick in the hallway and he quickly excuses himself.

“John, those men are too grown to sleep on the floor and to share a bed.” You quietly exclaim.

“Doll, I can assure you they’ve slept worse.”

“Men, you don’t see the issue. They’re not at work though this is their time to get good sleep.”

“Well I don’t have much more to offer.”

“One of them can sleep in my room, one on the air mattress and one of them can sleep on your bed.” He looks at you slightly confused.

“Where will you sleep?”

“With whoever sleeps in my bed.” He looks at you like you're crazy and is about to very loudly protest. “I'm kidding, we can share the couch I only need like one cushion to sleep on.” It’s true you sleep like a Rollie Pollie.

“Fine.” He doesn’t object to the idea at all which you're slightly surprised about and walks back into his room to tell them. Gaz is the one that gets sent out to you and you take him to your room.

“Here’s the remote, I’m sorry about all the pillows but the sheets are clean and the bathroom is right across the hall.” You smile at him and he thanks you for saving him from the hardwood floors. You laugh and take your favorite pillow, you say your goodnight and head to the living room.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know.” John says as you walk to the opposite side of the couch.

“I know.” You say settling into your usual spot. John throws one of the blankets you gave to him for the boys over you. At this point you're so tired you lay on your side letting whatever action movie John put on lull you to sleep.

You wake up suddenly sometime during the night the tv now off making it hard to see. You hear John murmuring things in his sleep getting louder by the second. You sit up tapping his arm to wake him and realize how warm he is. You reach to turn on the lamp beside the couch so you could actually see. Sweat begins to form on his brow line as his hands shake at his sides.

“John.” You whisper quietly, shaking his arm. He doesn’t wake so you do it again a little rougher. Still nothing.

“John.” You said a bit louder, finally waking him. His wide eyes look around as his left hand reaches to grip the hand you had on his arm.

“Doll?” He says squinting his eyes at you while trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah I’m here.” He continues to breathe roughly as you sit there. The way he refuses to meet your eyes makes you want to cry. He looks distressed and worn down.

“Bad dream.” He whispers gruffly.

You don’t need words to comfort him. You slide down the couch to lay opposite of how you had been before and place your head on his chest. He lifts his arm from beneath you and drapes it over your mid back. You listen intently to the rapid beat of his heart waiting for it to slow. After a while it does as his breath evens out. After a bit you drift back into sleep.

----------

thankyou for reading <3

comments and reposts are always appreciated.

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#captain price x female reader #john price #barry sloane #captain john price #john price x reader #task force 141 #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #angst #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod mw2

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dollishbabess · 2 months ago

Note

your writing is literally so underrated, I love how you write reader as a actual person and not babyish ilyy, ALSOO when are you gonna write for tim and Damian and Bruce you only write for Jason mostly 😭, but write them maybe like a tim fic or hcs? <3!

TIM DRAKE DATING HCS! - dollish

A/n: actually, stay tuned for October for my romtober series which each batboy (except Bruce) has a week and fic prompts!! And also tysm I try, I don’t like personally how y/n is written either too badass or either too soft either so I understand🩷

1. Midnight Research Sessions Tim loves to pull all-nighters, and when dating, he often invites you to join him. These sessions aren't just about crime-solving; he includes random deep dives into shared interests or new topics. It's his way of showing that he wants to connect with you on multiple levels, valuing the bond that comes from exploring knowledge together.

2. Organizational Obsession Tim's meticulous organization skills extend into the relationship. He keeps a digital archive of your favorite things music, books, random facts you've mentioned so he never forgets even the smallest details. It's his way of making you feel seen and valued, ensuring that no part of you is ever overlooked.

3.Themed Date Nights Tim is surprisingly creative when it comes to planning dates. He organizes intricate, themed adventures that often tie back to his detective skills like treasure hunts or escape room-style challenges. He loves putting in the effort to make every moment special because he believes that shared experiences create the best memories.

4. Incorporating Tech into Romance As someone who's always around technology, Tim uses it to his advantage in romantic gestures. He might design a personalized app just for the two of you, where you can leave secret messages or keep track of your favorite moments together. It’s his way of expressing love through what he's naturally skilled at.

5. Sudden “You’re Safe” Hugs Whenever he’s been busy with a mission or stressed, Tim has a habit of hugging you out of nowhere. It’s his silent reassurance to himself that you’re okay, and he didn’t miss out on spending another moment with you. Given how much he’s lost in his life, these hugs are his way of grounding himself in the present with someone he loves.

6. Comfort in Chaos Tim can be a bit of a workaholic, but when you’re around, he always makes room for you in his chaotic schedule, whether it’s inviting you to hang out while he’s deep in case files or finding time to text you between missions. To him, having you nearby in the midst of his chaos is a reminder that there’s something good waiting for him outside of work.

7. Endearing Rambling Tim tends to go off on passionate tangents about things he loves, and it often ends up being one of the ways he shows affection. He wants you to understand his world, and he feels safe enough to share every little thought with you, even if he knows he might be rambling.

8. The Hoodie Collector As someone who wears hoodies often, Tim always lets you borrow his, and he secretly loves seeing you in them. Over time, he starts leaving his hoodies at your place on purpose, subtly marking his presence in your life. It’s a simple but intimate way for him to feel connected to you, even when he’s not around.

9. Late-Night Coffee Runs Tim has an odd sleep schedule, and sometimes he’ll take you out for spontaneous coffee runs in the middle of the night. These trips aren’t just about caffeine it’s his way of escaping the pressures of being a hero, finding solace in mundane moments with you, even though he prefers energy drinks but it’s more “aesthetic” for coffee dates yk?

10. Gentle Wake-Up Calls Knowing that he often wakes up early or has inconsistent sleep patterns, Tim takes pride in waking you up gently with a kiss on the forehead or by playing your favorite song. It’s his small way of making your mornings brighter and ensuring that he’s the first one to greet you at the start of each day because he knows how hard it is to wake up (himself personally for Mr. Doesn’t sleep)

11. Intellectual Challenges Tim loves a good intellectual debate, and he often initiates them with you to see things from your perspective. He doesn’t just want someone who agrees with him; he wants someone who can challenge him, and it’s his way of showing that he respects and admires your intelligence.

12. Hidden Love Notes Even though he’s not overly sentimental, Tim is known to leave little post-it notes or encrypted messages for you to find. They range from sweet nothings to random jokes or clues for a mini-puzzle he’s set up for you, showing that he’s thinking about you even in his busiest moments, he personally used to write fake love notes and throw them around school so people would find it and just create drama PROBLEMATIC KING!💜

13. Training Partner Tim appreciates someone who can keep up with him, so he loves having you as his training partner. It’s not just about staying fit it’s his way of ensuring that you can take care of yourself and that he can trust you to handle danger if it ever comes your way.

14. Silent Staring Sometimes, Tim just stares at you without saying a word, especially when he’s exhausted. It’s not that he’s spacing out; he’s just soaking in your presence, finding comfort in the fact that you’re there, and it reminds him that there’s more to life than constant problem-solving, but Bruce will just stare at you with no shame and will just STARE at you directly which is a bit uncomfortable sometimes.

15. Endearing Awkwardness Tim can be awkward with expressing emotions, but he tries so hard when he’s with you. He might stumble over words or make awkward jokes, but it’s his genuine effort to be vulnerable that makes these moments special. He believes that you deserve all of him, even the parts that aren’t as polished or perfect.

Second divider @cafekitsune, DO NOT TRANSLATE OR PUT ON A DIFFERENT PLATFORM, this is @dollishbabess work!

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carlos-in-glasses · 3 months ago

Text

Rhythms

120k, 17 chapters all written, E, updates on Sundays on Ao3.

TK swoons when he discovers a sentimental scrapbook full of notes he and Carlos have left for each other – but he also unearths a book of poems that closeted teen-Carlos wrote about his struggles, including a few dedicated to his high school crush. An adorably mortified Carlos recalls the stir he caused when he was published anonymously in the high school paper, and everything he went through to write his wedding vows for TK years later. With TK as a hype-man, maybe Carlos can embrace his creative side again.

Read on Ao3

Chapter 1 - Love Heart: The day after TK and Carlos’ first wedding anniversary, TK is sent home from work sick. Back at the loft unexpectedly, he makes a surprising discovery about Carlos.

Chapter 2 - Club Can't Handle Me: In 2011, sixteen-year-old Carlos is both in the closet and in his high school’s wrestling team – and it’s all a bit too much. Perhaps against his better judgment, he turns to poetry and makes a decision that will change his life.

Chapter 3 - Crossroads: Daydreaming about his wedding vows mid-drive, Carlos gets pulled over for a traffic violation – and Gabriel isn’t happy. Reunited with TK, Carlos might be lost for words, but he finds another way to express his love and desire.

Chapter 4 - The Wrestler: Carlos’ poems are published – and he quickly learns there’s no putting the genie back into the bottle.

Chapter 5 - A Gay Fantasia: In the aftermath of being abducted by a serial killer, Carlos reflects on recent events and resumes work on his wedding vows.

Chapter 6 - La Tormenta: Carlos is devastated when Scott gets a girlfriend, and he finds himself in another snowballing situation.

Chapter 7 - Soulmates: When TK has a Huntington’s disease scare, Carlos finds he knows exactly what to say. But will it help him with his writer’s block when it comes to his wedding vows?

Chapter 8 - Man of Mystery: It’s the day of the Lake View High School Talent Show – and will the real Shadow Poet please stand up?

Chapter 9 - Crush: In 2011, it’s make or break for sixteen year old Carlos at the talent show. In 2024, TK becomes the hype man Carlos had needed over a decade ago.

Chapter 10 - From Behind: A couple of weeks before the wedding, Carlos is still working on his vows when a deeper rift develops between him and his dad. In 2012, seventeen year-old Carlos is spiraling after coming out to his parents.

Chapter 11 - The Other Wrestler: TK decides to lift Carlos’ spirits by learning how to wrestle.

Chapter 12 - Carlos Reyes Will Be Okay: At Gabriel’s funeral, Carlos regrets saying no to reading a poem in tribute – but during the wake, he finds himself under a whole new pressure. Later that night, he realizes the vows he’s worked so hard on for TK cannot be spoken yet.

“I was just remembering–” Carlos says, “The first time you stayed for a while after one of our hookups. It was, like, the third time we hooked up, I think. I asked if you wanted tea and cookies and you looked at me like I’d said the weirdest thing ever.”

TK’s exhausted, puffy face breaks into a dazzling grin. “You were being such a Boy Scout.”

“But then you said yes and you ate half the cookie jar.”

“You called me the Cookie Monster.”

“That was the first time I really made you laugh.”

“Tea came out my nose.”

“It was beautiful,” Carlos says, pausing then to qualify: “Your laugh.”

TK gazes up at him, his clear green eyes large and shining. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“The first time you made me laugh was when we were dancing at the honky-tonk.”

“Hey!” TK swats his arm. “I was trying my best!”

“You were so goofy,” Carlos chides. “I just loved it. I loved you.”

Read on Ao3

#Tarlos #Tarlos fic #Tarlos fanfic #911 lone star #gay fanfiction #Rhythms #poet fic #cig fic #my fic #Thank you so much for reading! I'm so excited about this fic!

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sunrisesfromthewest · 4 months ago

Text

First Encounter Part 9

Warnings/Summary: SMUT | Slight Angst/Heartbreak (With Ex) | Fluff | Rated R Language| Armando and Reader being cute and having a sweet moment together. Mike and Marcus acting like typical Black parents.

Previous Parts:1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Oh fuck!” you moan loudly as Armando pounds into you from behind. Leaning his toned front against your back, he moves his hand up from your waist, quickly covering your mouth.

“You gotta be quiet, for me baby!” he whispers into your ear, while teasingly nipping at it. Moaning into his hand from the sensation of him sliding in and out your sensitive walls, quickly had you gripping at the sheets, as you squeeze your eyes shut out of pleasure.

“We don’t need you waking up the others......I’m sure they can already hear us fucking right now." he groans as he listened to the wet sound of skin slapping against each other.

Feeling you clench around him slightly had him whining as he mutters out a few words in between breaths, "S-shit baby.... y-you like that...you want everybody...to know how good I make you f-feel!”

Nodding your head you began to meet his thrust causing him to shiver against your back, as he moves his hand away from your lips, and down to your chin. Turning your head towards him slightly, he gives you a big smile, lips and beard glistening from his prior moments between your legs.

“Don’t-t look at me like that!” you whine as you gaze up at him, already feeling yourself shake from his constant thrusting, that has slowed down a bit as he looks at you. Rolling his eyes at your comment he says, "You know you like it.” while leaning forward to press kisses at the side of your face.

“Hey....d-didn’t I tell you no kisses......you ain’t off the hook yet." you mutter closing your eyes from the feeling of his lips against your jaw. Humming he continues to kiss your face trailing his lips closer to yours. Reaching your lips he gives you a sloppy but sweet kiss as he mutters, “Yeah, but ain’t you the one who said ‘put that pretty mouth to work’.”

Moaning into the kiss you rock back on him, causing him to grip his left hand against your hip tightly. Pulling away you bite at his lip teasingly, "Don't get smart.”

Laughing he lets go of your chin, while picking up his previous pace, but groans when he feels the way your walls flutter around his member, "I've already made you cum by my mouth and my hands multiple times....and your pretty pussy still wanting more.”

Whining loudly as he thrust faster in you caused you to place both of your hands against your mouth, in an attempt to keep yourself quiet. The feeling of him inside you started to become too much, so you reached a hand behind you to slow down his thrusts.

Seeing this caused Armando to pound into you harder, grabbing your hand he moves it between your legs, "The only way you making m-me stop is by cumming again, Y/N.”

“So, get to work, mi amor (my love).” he moans while making you pressed down on your swollen clit.

The late night continues with him bringing you towards your final orgasm, falling forward against the bed, you let out quiet pants, as your body begins to relax from its overstimulation. While catching his breath Armando smirks down at your trembling figure, too tired to do anything else.

Pulling out of you he groans as sees his cum run down your legs, hearing you let out a small whine from the movement, makes him apologize as he gets up to retrieve a towel from the restroom. After cleaning himself up, he returns to you with a semi-wet towel, and gently opens your legs to quickly clean you up. Throwing the towel into the small trash can, he cuddles up behind you; facing the door just in case, Mcgrath finds out where y’all were.

"Try to get some sleep mi amor...I’m sure they’ll want us up early." he whispers as he wraps his arm around your waist. Muttering a quite you too, you wasted no time falling straight asleep, body finally worn out from you guys' previous activities. Eyes remaining on you as you fall asleep, he waits a few moments making sure that you truly are asleep.

Leaning forward he whispered a few words in your ear before kissing your cheek softly, “Pase lo que pase mañana por favor sepan que los amo.(Whatever happens tomorrow please know that I love you.)” Pulling you closer again he closed his eyes, silently praying that tomorrow runs smoothly.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“I can’t believe you!” you cry out, chin trembling from the current emotion swirling inside of you. Walking up to you Rafe tries to comfort you by pulling you into his embrace but you push him away.”Y/N! It was a mistake.... I messed up baby just listen to me for a second!" Rafe says as he attempts to bring you closer to him, frowning when you push him away from you.

“No Rafe! Did these 10 months mean nothing to you! Where you just hanging around to fuck me Rafe, is that what this was!" You shouted, eyes becoming moist as you watch him frantically shake his head.

“I swear that’s not what I was trying to do......It just-ts things started becoming seriou-”before he could finish you cut him off.

“YOU WENT BACK AND SLEPT WITH YOUR FUCKING EX BECAUSE WE WERE BECOMING SERIOUS!" you yell as tears fall down your flushed cheeks.

“NO, Y/N!....... please, please baby....can’t we talk about this at home." he says swallowing, while frantically moving his eyes around the precinct, making sure that his coworkers weren’t listening.

Shaking your head in disbelief, and at his audacity you scoff, "No we can’t...matter of fact." Pulling of the engagement ring he gave you; you throw it against his chest.

“Don’t even worry about coming back home.... I’m done." you say shifting your purse higher on your shoulder, as you head towards the front of the precinct.

Stumbling to grab the ring, Rafe quickly follows after you, frantically calling out your name, "WAIT Y/N I-I DIDN’T MEAN IT LIKE THAT! Y/N I'M SORRY PLEAASE DON” T DO THIS!”

Grabbing your hand, he turns you back towards him, rapidly blinking as he mumbles out apologies and pleads.

Snatching away from him you shake your head as he tries pushing the ring back on your finger, "Nah don’t give me that shit,it doesn’t represent what we had anymore.... go give it to that bitch you were fucking with!” you say jaw clenched as you watch his face grow red in embarrassment.

Eyes moving back up to yours he attempts to plead for you again but is cut off by the call of his name. Seeing this as the opportunity for you to leave, you move quickly out the front doors.

Quickly moving down, the steps you keep your gaze on the ground, as tears begin to fill your eyes more. Walking towards the direction of your car, you failed to notice the person a few steps in front of you causing you to bump into him hard.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going! Are you okay?" you say stumbling back while trying to keep your voice from wavering, as your eyes do a quick sweep of the stranger in front of you.

Wiping away the tears that were falling down your face, you wait for a response, as the stranger picks something up from the ground.

“Don’t apologize, I was the one who ran into you." he says passing you your lips gloss. Feeling tears threaten to fall you shake your head in disagreement, while taking your lip gloss, "No it’s my fault.... I’m sorry again, Have a good night.”

Running your eyes down his figure again just in case, you give him a shaky smile, as you make your way to the car. Mind occupied by your current heartbreak, you failed to realize the way the man was watching your retreating figure with a focused gaze. Cocking his head to the side he looks at you for a few more minutes, before forcing his mind to focus on the mission.

As he continues observing the station, he couldn’t help but to let his mind wander back to you, the pretty lady that gave him a brief moment of kindness and normalcy.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Groaning softly, you shift around in the bed before blinking awake, the prior dream/memory still lingering, in your mind as you glanced around the room. Sighing when your eyes land on the clock that reads 5:06, made you mumble tiredly at your internal alarm clock.

Hearing quiet snores, made you turn your head towards Armando’s sleeping form. Smiling at how relaxed he was, you go to press a kiss against his cheek but he lets out the most craziness snore you ever heard that made you jump back. Staring at him hard you watch his still sleeping form, relax against the bed as if he didn’t just give you a mini heart attack.

Laughing quietly to yourself, you decide to press a soft kiss against the scar on his chest, while easing yourself off the bed. Grabbing your shirt off the lamp you slip it on, as you make your way to the bathroom.... or at least attempt to.

With trembling legs, you successfully enter the restroom while blinking a few times so your eyes could adjust to the light. Closing the door behind you, you locked it as your eyes make contact with your disheveled reflection. Shaking your head at all the love bites that litter your neck and shoulder, made you sigh a bit, already knowing that it’ll be a topic of discussion.

While staring at yourself your mind begins to wonder about your previous dream...or flashback...maybe all this talk about Rafe had opened up some old wounds. Ignoring the aching feeling in your chest, you try to shift your mind to something positive, but your mind just wouldn’t keep that memory at bay.

Turning on the faucet you splash your face a few times, trying to snatch yourself from that dark place. You really did love Rafe but he did you dirty on too many occasions...and fucking his ex, when you guys had just got engaged was the last straw.

Scoffing to yourself you walk briefly to the toilet and sit down, "Why did I even say yes when he proposed?" you mumble to yourself.

After handling your business, you flushed and made your way back the sink to wash your hands. Peering down you see Midnight still asleep which made you smile, but when you looked back into the mirror that smile dropped.

You were going through the same cycle again with who you got involved with, forgiving then fucking. Turning off the faucet you dried off your hands as you frowned, but Armando is different right, he wouldn’t just say those things.

Setting the towel on the sink, you wipe away the tears that threaten to fall, "Get it together Y/N....he’s not like him." you whispered to yourself but the look in your eyes tells a different story, even after he genuinely apologized and rearrange your guts.... you still had doubts.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Shifting in the bed Armando groans as he hears loud knocking and the muffled sound of who he presumed was his father's voice. Wanting a few more minutes of sleep he ignores his father, choosing to reach an arm out to pull you closer to him.

After not feeling your warm figure beside him, he snaps his eyes open, hands patting the now cold sheets, as he gazes around the room for any signs of you.

Removing the comforter he quickly slips on his sweats, eyes shooting to the restroom to which he noticed that the lights where now off, and the pillow you gave Midnight now back in its original place.

Why didn’t you wake him up he thought as he grabbed the lamp from the nightstand just in case it wasn’t Mike knocking at the door. Right as he opened the door with the lamp ready to swing, his eyes land on Marcus, who was now to preoccupied with his plate, which he was going to town on.

Confused he lowers the lamp down, as Marcus paused mid-chew to look up at him.They both stood there for a few seconds given Marcus a chance to swallow the current food in his mouth to speak,” Damn Boy, you sleep like a log, I've been knocking on this door for a good 5 minutes!”

Setting the lamp down Armando stares at him with surprised, usually even the slightest noise would wake him up, but after last night/early this morning, he knows why his guard was down.

“Where’s Y/N?” he says eyes peaking past him, trying to make sure everything was still normal, which by the conversation and the aroma in the air he could tell it was.

“Not even a good morning or nothing! I’m not even gonna question why you in here. She’s in the kitchen, I don’t know why she didn’t go to culinary school instead my baby girl can get down!" Marcus says in between chews as he walks back towards the living room.

Watching the man with amusement Armando follows after him, stomach growling from the heavenly smell in the air. Passing the living room, he sees everyone talking with each other, while enjoying their breakfast.

Hearing the rustling of pans, made him continue his walk to the kitchen with curiosity. Keeping your eyes on the pancake that was cooking you failed to hear Armando's approaching footsteps which caused you to jump when you felt arms around your waist.

“Buenos días hermosa (Good morning beautiful)” he says while placing small kisses on your neck. Smiling you say morning, while reaching to turn the stove off, turning in his arms you stare up at him sleepily.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” he questions as he runs his eyes down your form and back up to your tired eyes.

“Still used to my work schedule, and you needed the rest especially with what’s about to go down in a few hours.... you hungry?",you say moving from his embrace you began to make him a plate, as Armando watched you with concern.

“Yeah, I am but you should’ve woken me up, I would’ve laid awake with you or continue to show how sorry I am.” he said grabbing the plate you were preparing for him and setting it on the counter. Shaking your head, you mumble a few words to yourself, and continue to put food on his plate.

Eyes watching you like a hawk he asked if something happened while he was sleep. Pausing you turn towards him slightly, unsure if you should mention your worries to him,” Nah, it's...nothing just sleepy that’s all." you say as you reach for some silverware to place with his plate.

Not convinced he turned you towards him fully so that he could watch your facial expression, "Don't lie to me princess, tell me what’s wrong.”

Leaning against the counter you chewed on your bottom lip, while keeping your gaze downwards. Watching as his feet stops in front of yours made you sigh, and look up to see his monitoring eyes.

“I know that after this rescue we might not see each other again.... but I’m scared that I was just being used as temporary pleasure." swallowing hard you peer at him to see if he’ll prove that your doubts were right.

Brows pulled together he shakes his head, "I don’t want you to think that about us Y/N... yeah, we might not see each other after this but know that I’ll do everything in my willpower to fight those odds.”

Moving forward he places his hand on your cheek caressing it with his thumb, "And if this was just a pleasure thing, I wouldn’t have pursued you the moment I made eye contact with those beautiful tear-filled eyes that night in front of the station.”

Blinking up at him you watched as he stared down at you with a smile, waiting for you to put two to two together, "Even after seeing you two years later, you still had that same lip gloss in your purse.”

Gasping you stare up at him with disbelief, "That was you!”

Laughing at your reaction he nods, while you smack his chest teasingly, "Why didn’t you say anything!”

Shrugging he mutters, "Didn’t know how to you wasn’t really feeling me, the first few hours when we met again.... but my good looks changed that." he said with a smirk.

Rolling your eyes at his cockiness, "Boy you not even all of that so don’t even try it!”

Dropping his smirk, his gaze darkened while moving his hands down to your waist, "You weren’t saying that when we made out in that elevator,” pausing he pressed a kiss under your ear which made you shiver, "or when you were admiring me from behind those shower curtains......then letting me cum deep inside of your pretty pussy that is now mines" he says trailing kisses against your jaw, as he lifted you onto the counter, "OR when you allowed me to go down on you, even tho you claimed you were still made as hell at me the whole time.”

Before you could say that you were still feeling some type of way, he shut you up by pressing his warm full lips against yours, making those words die instantly on your tongue.

Things became a little more intense as he brings you forward to press you against his length, grinding against you slow but hard as he breaks away from the kiss. Whining you lean forward to reconnect your lips but he moves back with a smirk, "Nah baby I wanna here you say I’m all that.” Rolling your eyes you mumble the words.

Which results in him grinding against you harder while reaching behind you to pinch your ass.Yelping you smack his chest, in annoyance but his smirk just widens as he waits,”Alright,you all of that but you’re definitely pussy whipped!” you say with a smirk of your own.

“I have no problem with admitting that sweetheart." he said bringing his lips back to yours. Moaning into the kiss you wrap your arms around his shoulders, kissing him harder as you feel him dry hump you faster.

To lost in the sensation of each other, you failed to hear the footsteps heading to the kitchen, and right when Armando reached his hands down to push inside of your pants. He freezes at the loud voice behind him.

“Damn y’all, I found out who we were hearing all last night! Man, y'all young people freaky as hell and just don’t give no fucks!" Mike says as he quickly set his plate on the counter and leaves.

Pulling away from you Armando groans with frustration, while glaring at his father's retreating figure,” Dammit he’s always walking in on us at the wrong fucking time!”

Laughing you push him back softly so you could slide off the counter, "Don't get mad at him, we are in the kitchen.” you say moving towards the stove to set his pancake on his abandoned plate.

Scoffing at your words he watched as you hold out his plate towards him, “You still hungry?” you asked as he grabs the plate with a playful smirk, hungry yourself you turn back around to make your plate.

“Yes, but now I got a taste for something else.” he said smacking your ass hard, before quickly running towards the living room. Spitting out a few curse words, you chase after him with a spatula while rubbing your sore ass cheek, “FUCK ARMANDO, I SWEAR!”

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Authors Note🎙️:Since y’all kept saying I left ya hanging,I wanted to give ya a little something at the beginning😏,and plus I didn’t know how to start this chapter so y’all got lucky😭.

Anyways we Fr gonna have some violence in the next chapter……more than likely it’ll be the last one 🫠.

But don’t worry I’ll make it good and lengthy 😉.

#armando aretas #bad boys ride or die #x black fem reader #Armando #jacob scipio #armando armas #bad boys #new writers on tumblr #Armando aretas x black reader #mike lowrey #marcus burnett #Will smith #martin lawrence #Armando x daughter Burnett reader #x black y/n #x reader #First Encounter Series #black fanfiction #black fem reader

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highhhfiveee · 1 year ago

Note

Mike x reader, with reader who works long hours during the daytime and Mike working at night which results in them barely having time to see eachother besides from dinner and bedtime

oh, you wanted angst fr 🥲 i think it could go either way, but honestly angst is what stood out to me first. i’m going to make this sadder too, just because i can 💜

to crumble

pairing: mike schmidt x blackfem!reader summary: y/n and mike find their relationship at a dead end. wc: 2.3k tags: angst, pain, prescription drug mentions, fluff and cuteness in the beginning but not for long. mdni. part 2 here: 🏳️

all i can think ab is the unbearable pain that replaces the love in your hearts as time goes on.

you’ve been together for half a year. things were fun at first, but once you decide to move in to help with abby, you start to see the cracks in the foundation.

in this one, reader works two jobs (bc let’s face it, this is unfortunately realistic); teaching from 9-4 and cashiering from 5-8:30. mike doesn’t want you working two jobs and you didn’t want to, but you knew that your salaries combined wouldn’t keep you afloat. abby’s school is expensive, and so is everything else in life. the extra money you get from cashiering gives you guys flexibility.

every morning at 6:30, monday to friday, you wake up alone. even though you know it’ll probably be empty, you still reach your arm over to run it over mike’s side. it’s always cold and flat, completely untouched.

you brush this off at first; it's one of the things that comes with him working overnight and you know he needs this job so that he can keep abby. you want that for him and know that love is sacrifice.

you wake abby up and start getting her ready in between fixing yourself up; brushing her teeth while you brush yours, letting her get a few more minutes of sleep in while you throw on your clothes, guiding her through packing her bag while you make breakfast. by that time, closer to 7:30, mike is finally walking into the house.

his eyes are hooded and surrounded by dark bags and you can tell he's exhausted from the way he hangs his things up lethargically. he kisses abby, who's running around collecting things, on the head, then ambles over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing along your neck.

they're soft, gentle actions that make you forget about not being able to do things like this at night. it doesn't matter when you have mornings with him, even if it's only 30 minutes before you have to go. you giggle and reach a hand up to his cheek, kissing him on his other one.

"missed you," you whisper.

"missed you too," he mumbles back, planting a kiss on your lips before stalking away to ask abby something.

you all eat breakfast together, and then you're slipping abby's coat over her shoulders before you put on your own. you usher her to the car and give mike one last kiss before you leave, a deep one that you hope he feels all day. when you pull away, you can see the affection sparkling in his eyes, low and tired but expressive nonetheless.

"i love you," he whispers, his sleepiness masquerading as love-drunkeness.

"i love you, mike. get some rest, okay?"

you drop abby off, wishing her well, before you're alone for the next 12 hours. it often drags. at your teaching job, you feel as if it's just passing you buy in waves, everything whizzing past you at light speed. you're aware that you're in front of the kids, but then you just blackout. you're thrown into autopilot, and you do this over and over until your lunch break at 1. you text mike to pass the time.

sometimes it's something silly, like "god i do not get paid enough" or "a kid just ate glue /: send help", to which mike will respond "😂😂😂" or "lol you deserve millions (:". he makes you laugh, and it's enough to help you push through the end of the day.

he picks up abby from school, asking her all about her day and what she wants for dinner. he'll text you what she says so you know what to expect when you get home, like "meatloaf 🍖🍞 (:" or "chicken alfredo 0: fancy".

for you, transitioning from teaching to customer service was easy; all you had to do was maintain that same autopilot: smile on, eyes alert, prepared for anything. no one suspected a thing when you could keep up and answer their questions.

mike helps abby with her homework, scratching his head with the eraser of a pencil when he draws blanks on a math or history question. abby only sighs, telling him about something off-topic. "art class is much more interesting."

mike starts dinner while you're closing up at work, sweeping the front end of the store and counting down your drawer. he lets abby help sometimes, and they usually have it ready for you by the time you're home at 9.

abby meets you at the door, and you hug her tight, picking her up and waltzing her back into the house. mike is setting the dining table, greeting you with a sleepy smile and, "the queen has arrived."

you all sit down and eat, and it's another one of those moments where everything feels okay. the last 12 hours didn't matter when you were able to have this at the end of it.

you tell abby and mike about your day over spaghetti, spilling details about prideful parents and spiteful customers. abby laughs all throughout, asking questions about being a cashier. mike just listens, eyes and heart floating between the two of you.

you clear the table while mike goes to get ready for work, and a wash of dread passes over you. your brain knows what's happening next. you'll kiss him goodbye, clinging to his hoodie sleeve for a second longer than you should, and then you'll settle down with abby, bathing her and reading her to sleep. then you'll be alone. it will just be you and the screech of infomercials until midnight, and then you'll be off to sleep, snuggling into a pillow that smells like mike.

you push the feeling away, shaking your head and hands and doing just as you know. there's the kiss, the night routine with abby, and the moment you sit on the couch, surrounded by tv light and the croaking of cicadas.

mike doesn't text during his shift unless it's an emergency. it makes you sad, but you understand. security requires focus, and you require sleep.

for a while, this works. it's what you and mike have to do to make ends meet, and while you both think that it'll only get better with more time at it, it doesn't.

you still wake up alone and go through the same rhythm, but when mike comes in around 7:30, it's not 7:30 anymore. it's 7:39, then 7:45, then 7:58. the latest he's ever been, so late that you're not able to eat with him. he shrugs it off when you mention it, kissing your cheek and retreating to the bedroom to sleep.

you drop abby off as usual, and go to work. work. work. work.

mike starts missing your lunch break texts, sometimes dozing dangerously close to when abby's school lets out. while your class works, you bitterly stare at your text conversation. your unanswered "shaping america's future is kinda sick" message stares back at you until it's replaced by abby's school calling. your heart drops to your stomach as you step out of the room to take the call, answering the phone with, "is she okay?"

mike didn't pick her up. she's out at 2:30 and it's 3:30 now, and she's crying and scared because he didn't pick up the phone, and she always calls him first.

you leave work in a flurry, asking a fellow teacher to take over, and you speed to abby's school, not caring about tickets or police or anything. you only want to get her home.

mike is dashing out of the door when you pull up, wrenching a sobbing abby out of your backseat and clutching her close. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry," he breathes, smoothing her hair and looking up at you with regret etched into every feature on his face.

you try your best to hide your upset, ushering everyone inside before changing into your work clothes. you were going to be late, but you shake it off. abby was home and that was all that mattered.

"hey," mike reaches out to you when you're on your way out. his fingers graze their way down to your hand, and it makes you wish that you could stay home. "thanks for that. i've just been super tired lately and i overslept and---"

"it's okay, baby," you give him a tight lipped smile and a kiss on the knuckles. "just don't let it happen again."

it happens again. and again. and again. it happens so many times that abby starts to think mike is forgetting about her, and you don't know how to get that out of her head. she cries about it more and more with each time you have to pick her up. he stops running out to apologize, still asleep inside.

you rush into the bedroom. he's splayed out over the bed, snoring loudly with his arm hanging over the side. you find an orange pill bottle on his nightstand. an old ambien prescription.

you argue with him before work sometimes.

"what do you need ambien for?"

"i can't sleep."

"but every morning, you skip breakfast to sleep."

"i do fall asleep, but i started waking up out of it. i just take the ambien to help me fall again."

"what time do you take it?"

"i don't know, y/n."

"why are you lying to me?"

"i'm not."

"what time?" you cry, grasping at your chest. a sharp pains thud through your ribcage, and you literally sob. it feels like your heart is tearing in two. "you stare at times, mike. what time do you take the ambien?"

he doesn't answer you and he doesn't know why. it would be so easy to tell you that he takes it at 9 or 10, and that he believes he'll be able to wake himself up around 2 but he doesn't. he can’t sleep without the ambien. he needs it now because he kept himself up in the early days of this, mind toiling over their situation, the endless reassurance that this would work sending him into insomnia.

you leave when he doesn't answer, wiping at your watery eyes and runny nose.

you cashier as a shell of yourself. abby stops asking mike for homework help, and eventually he stops cooking dinner too, trading all that time in for extra sleep after picking her up. you have to explain the situation to your retail store manager, just in case mike forgets again, and start looking after abby more. mike only ever made time to spend with her on the weekends, content with awkward moments over lunch and low energy bickering.

the lunch break texts stop. the dinner texts stop.

he's dressed and ready to leave when you get home these days, prepared to exit as you enter. you don't know what to say as you face each other in the doorway, eyes focused on anything but each other. you don’t even kiss anymore.

"i think abby's asleep already."

you shake your head. "i think she's really sad. she hasn't been coming out of there like she used to. she misses you."

"i miss her too, of course. i'm just busy."

"all you do is work, mike," you deadpan, exhausted with him. you never thought you'd ever get to a point where you looked at mike, the sure love of your life, with disdain, but you felt it creep into you ever so slightly.

"yeah, i know. it fucking sucks, but it's what i have to do to keep abby."

you scoff, scooting past him to take your coat and bag off. "as if you're going to keep her by leaving her at school everyday." it's supposed to be under your breath, but the disdain creeps onto your tongue, bitter and raging, and you say it aloud, to his face.

his jaw clenches and his brown eyes burn, staring you down with an unrelenting severity. you hunch yourself over, dropping your head and sighing out, "mike, i'm sorry. i didn--"

he leaves without another word.

how it got to this, neither of you know. not even the weekends healed anymore. mike caught up on sleep, you caught up on grading, and in your downtime, you avoided each other. for him, it felt easier than being around you. you were irritable all the time, a quick fuse with any word he could think to speak.

for you, it seemed like it was what he wanted. time away from you, from abby, from everyone; time to be alone and recharge for the only thing he ever did, the only thing that was keeping his sister in his care.

you didn't even remember what his touch felt like, what he tasted like. the man that you loved had become but a memory, a ghost that passed through your plane. you’re able to imagine his fluffy hair, his perfect smile, his laugh, his rich smell, but none of it mattered. he didn’t feel like yours anymore.

you suppose it was the same for him, with you existing in the same space but only tangible to him some of the time. he would catch glimpses of your smile, laughing at something on your phone, or talking to abby, meet your eyes when you shuffled back to the bedroom from the bathroom, rimmed in red from crying for the last 30 minutes.

he starts sleeping on the couch, unable to even lay beside you.

mike does a lot of crying. a lot of screaming into his pillow, wondering why he fucks these things up so badly. you do the same, wondering why you stay in situations that hurt you.

this goes on for longer than you two would like, so long that you don't even celebrate your one-year anniversary.

the day passes without noise, mike sleeping and you working.

a prequel of sorts : x

THIS WAS SO FUCKING LONG MY BBBBBBBB OMG. i did NOT mean to go this deep in, i just felt SOOOOO MUCH! my little brain got sad ): i could go deeper into this too one day, breaking up moments into specific little blurbs or ficlets d: let me know if y'all even enjoyed this lmaooo off to write for Halloween lol

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt angst #fnaf angst #fnaf movie #fnaf #fnaf fic #faire’s mike schmidt <3 #this was painful #kind of tired so it may be ass but #it feels painful #imagine your relationship just falling to pieces 💔#i made this so long #whoops #faire is writing stuff #josh hutcherson

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