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#and i had grown up to get married to someone and tried to be a woman and a mother like that. god...
vulpinesaint · 5 months
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it's me and all the women in literature described in despondent unhappiness in a marriage that they don't hate but don't enjoy as they should and who feel as if they're not the way a woman should be and who yearn to be free of their husband and children not because they despise them but because they're not for a husband and children and who can't say that they're miserable but who feel a numb kind of despair in all that disconnectedness and disconnectedness and disconnectedness. they are just like me for real
#we have the same kind of depression 👍 but also. i can see so clearly that that's the way i would be if i still thought i was a girl.#and i had grown up to get married to someone and tried to be a woman and a mother like that. god...#edna pontellier hold on. i'm going out into the sea with you. we'll drown together.#laura brown from the hours on my kin list 👍#need to reread the hours so bad. opened up my copy of it to check if laura had killed herself at the end or not for this post#and just skimming the last few chapters made me tear up. god. but there are still the hours aren't there? one and then another...#and then you get through that one and then my god there's another...#um. books that make you go 'okay so maybe i have wanted to kill myself a little bit all these years. but maybe i'm going to be okay'#the book ever honestly it is Everything to me#and kate chopin's the awakening is good as well. much to be said about the depiction of people of color in that novel#but the depiction of edna pontellier's mental state is so. ough.#glances at the ratings on goodreads nd stuff have made me so irritated.#god forbid a woman commit the ultimate selfish sin of leaving her children behind because she's so miserable by killing herself.#because far worse than the thought that she could be losing all her personhood moment by moment#and wasting her life away feeling like a shell of a person#pales. in comparison to the thought that she could POSSIBLY abandon the children she didn't really want to have.#of course it's a bad situation for the kids. sorry to raoul and etienne. but they will survive.#condemning the main character for having the audacity to go off and die... sickening. i hate people#valentine notes
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starkwlkr · 4 months
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I LOVE YOUR CHARLES FICS ESPECIALLY THE RUBY ONES OMG! This might sound strange, but could you write one where Y/N gets tired of the paparazzi and tries to physically fight a reporter? Kinda like the björk reporter incident in the 90’s. I wanna hear Charles and ruby’s reactions!
that’s my wife! | charles leclerc
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charles: you know the only reason i got married was so i could yell that’s my wife whenever i wanted?
also i made it SLIGHTLY different so instead of fighting the paparazzi, mama leclerc throws hands with toxic f1 fanboys 😍
Y/n always hated paparazzi, it was no surprise. She knew from the start of her relationship with Charles that she would be photographed whenever they stepped out. She knew what she was getting herself into when she started dating Charles and she tried to ignore it. It worked for a couple years and then Ruby and Mathéo came along. Being a mother changed Y/n. She was more protective of her children and husband.
When she wasn’t in the paddock, she was back home in Monaco with the kids and Pascale. The wag pages updated on where she was and some fans would try to find her.
During the week that Charles was away, Y/n was out with the kids in sunny Monaco. Ruby needed new school supplies and Y/n needed to buy Mathéo new clothes so she took both of her kids to the store. Charles has told her many times to at least have someone with her when she went out, but Y/n didn’t think it was necessary.
“Maman! Can I have this one?” Ruby pointed to a pink backpack that was on a window display.
“You already have a backpack, my love, we are only buying items we need like journals and books for you and new clothes for Théo, okay? And maybe we’ll get ice cream after. How does that sound?” Y/n asked the little girl, who seemed bummed that she wasn’t getting the pretty pink backpack she saw, but cheered up when her maman mentioned ice cream.
Ruby held onto the stroller as the family of three walked the sidewalk to the nearest store that sold school supplies. That’s when Ruby noticed a man pointing his phone at them. She wondered why and asked her maman.
“Let’s go inside, quickly.” Y/n told Ruby as they finally made it to the store.
“Why is he staring?” Ruby stared back at the man and even stuck out her tongue at him when he wouldn’t stop recording.
“Don’t pay attention, Ruby Jules. Let’s go.” Y/n grabbed Ruby’s hand.
“I don’t like him, maman.” Ruby whispered.
“I don’t either,” Y/n sighed as she started her shopping. But the man, who was still recording, decided to make her day worse.
“Tell Charles that Max is the better driver!” He was clearly trying to get a reaction out of her. “Fuck Ferrari!”
And suddenly, Y/n had so much anger built up in her that it made her snatch the phone from the man’s hands and throw it as far as possible. It practically landed on the other side of the shop.
“What the fuck!”
“Don’t ever disrespect my husband like that. Have the day you deserve, shithead.” Y/n turned the stroller holding a sleeping Mathéo and grabbed Ruby’s hand. “Fuck you.” She pushed past the man as she exited the shop.
As the mom had her back turned, Ruby stuck her tongue out again at the stranger.
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“And then maman said a bad word and we left! But the phone flew so far and the man looked like he was going to cry!” Ruby said enthusiastically into the phone. Charles was still gone, but news spread of the incident in the shop. Most people were defending Y/n’s actions since the man was clearly harassing the family.
“Really? So maman almost made a grown man cry, that’s my wife!” Charles laughed. Before talking with Ruby on the phone, he had gotten the full story from his wife.
“That’s my maman!” Ruby yelled.
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jellyfishrnice · 19 days
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Yandere! Rich suitor idea
Hear me out-
The rich suitor that your parents have in mind for you to marry once you turn 30, the guy who's parents your parents are best friends and how they've been imagining their offspring getting married for decades! And how you absolutely can't stand your unofficial fiance!
Of course, he couldn't stand you either. All your lives grown up together with both your parents insinuating that you two will carry on their names. Each year you two would be sent off to some exotic vacation (your parents loosely supervising) and each year you both failed to hold a conversation without fighting. The pressure was always too much for you, you hated the idea of being tied down to some guy only your parents liked. And no matter how beautiful the boy was, he simply wasn't your type. He was too pretty, too spoiled, too prissy with his blonde hair tied in a ponytail and his stupid eyebrow piercing that made no sense considering his personality.
The guy you were supposed to marry felt the same, he couldn't understand what his parents saw in you. You were too wild, he couldn't imagine trying to carry on a family with how you barely even wanted to do school work. He didn't even consider ugly just so... Weird! With your weird, odd sense of fashion and refusal to think about your future , you were definitely not his type. You two hated each other.
Until the summer you two turned 21. The yearly vacation y'all took started off like any other. With both you dreading the sight of each other. But that changed very quickly once he saw you. This was the first year you two were alone, and maybe it was the fresh alcohol in your systems or the soft lights in whatever high class restaurant you were in, something clicked in your suitor's brain.
Turns out a year (or a couple) can really change the way you see someone. Whether he knew or not he started to admire the way you refused to comply with the strict set of rules set by the high class society you two lived in, and how you didn't care what anyone else thought of your peculiar way of self expression. It was admirable he had to admit.
And the night you two shared an accidental drunken kiss, it made the hair on his arms stand up, it made his face flush red(which he blamed on the liquor), and it made his heart pound in a way he never thought possible.
Every bone chilling reaction was forced out of him and it made his skin light on fire. After that night, he only wanted more to come out of your relationship.
But, the attraction was simply one sided.
You still only saw the same prissy boy. He still refused to look at things from more than one perspective, he still poked fun at your style of clothes, he still refused to say thank you to whatever person who was serving him!
He was everything you hated all wrapped up in one ball of a man.
And when he dropped the idea of getting married the next morning while you were still recovering from your hangover, you almost vomited.
-
"Ew! What the fuck are you talking about?!" You yelled while almost dropping the mug you had in your hand. The guy was just insulting you yesterday like he always does and now he's talking about marriage?
"You act as though marrying me is the worst thing possible." Andrew sighed while sipping on a glass of orange juice. He looked out the nearby window onto the private beach of the resort while leaning on the nearby wall. It didn't show but your response clearly hurt him just a bit.
"'Cuz it is." You groaned in frustration while sitting down on the living room couch. The guy you hate proposing is definitely not helping with your pounding headache.
You took a sip out of the mug of coffee and tried to rub away the ache from your temples. Why now of all times to propose? You two had at least 5 more years of freedom before yours and his parents would put their foot down and set a date for you two to sign the wedding papers.
"I mean- why not now? Its be better sooner than later, it would be like ripping off a bandaid-"
"Hell no." You sighed and set down your mug on the coffee table next to you and dropped your head onto a pillow. How were you going to deal with this?
"Anyway," you paused trying to gather your words, "don't you hate me? Why would you want to tie the knot so soon? I mean, you're an attractive guy right? Why don't you try out other options before having to-"
"I don't want other options."
You lifted your head and stared at Andrew for a second. The pink dusting his fair cheeks and avoidance of eye contact was all you needed to know.
You looked away from his face and stared at the wall behind him. Your head hurts even more than when you had woken up.
"I'm leaving."
"What?"
"I said I'm leaving." You hauled yourself off the couch and into your room. You could hear Andrews faint footsteps and even more of his questions but ignored it. You packed your backpack, only the necessities and a small bag of seashells. You were getting on the next plane and heading back home. Or wherever you could land first.
You were not staying here. You refused to marry. Not yet at least.
But as you try and open the door to leave, a large hand slams it shut before you can completely open it.
"Andrew. What the hell are you doing."
"You are not leaving." Andrew says while placing his other hand against the door, caging you.
You never realized how muscular Andrew was before this moment.
"Yes, I am. Now let go of the door-"
"No." He says in a much firmer tone.
It dawns on you that you're on a private beach with no one to hear you yell for help. You see one of his hands leave the door and for a second you think he's come back to his senses and stopped whatever crazy shit he was thinking- but instead he snaked his hand around your waist and lays his forehead on your shoulder.
"You're not leaving."
-
HEHEHEHE JUST A THOUGHT THOOO
Not proof read forgive me 😔
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the-offside-rule · 2 months
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Daniel Ricciardo (RB Visa) - Lover
Requested: yes
Prompt: Daniel and international popstar Y/n accidentally get married in Vegas
Warnings: nope
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Daniel woke up in his hotel room with a pounding headache, groaning as he tried to open his eyes but being blinded by the sun coming through the windows each time. He turned around, cursing to himself before his eyes widened. Y/n, the Y/n lay beside him, in just a bra. While they had met several times before and hung out with similar people, this was the last person he expected to see in his bed the morning after a race weekend. He began questioning what had happened? What had he done? Or more importantly, who had he done? Whilst Daniel sat thinking about what to say to her when she woke up, he ultimately decided to order room service and go to the bathroom to actually think.....and maybe throw up.
Y/n was awoken by a door closing quite loudly. She jumped up, looking around, her eyes had grown wife as she realised that she wasn't asleep in her room, she was in someone else's. She heard footsteps coming and turned to see who it was. "Uh... morning?" Daniel croaked, his voice scratchy from the combination of dehydration and excessive partying. Y/n grabbed the bed covers and pulled them up over her chest. "What the fuck happened?" She mumbled to herself. "Yeah, I said the same thing."
Daniel scratched his head, replying, "I wish I knew. It's all a bit of a blur." Suddenly, his eyes widened as he noticed a shiny object on his finger. "You don't think this would have anything to do with it?" He lifted his hand to show Y/n, before she looked down, spotting the matching ring. "I got married in Vegas." She was so unbelievably angry with herself. Since she was a child she dreamed of this big extravagant wedding and now she just got married in Vegas?
She looked over to Daniel as he burst into laughter. "Well, you can't get rid of me now." Daniel chuckled, his Australian accent making the situation even more absurd. "Daniel, this is not funny, I'm going to get into so much shit!" Y/n said. Daniel turned to open his big bottle of champagne as Y/n continued her rant. "You're having champagne? At this time?" Daniel walked over to the bed with a glass and sat down, handing it to her and pouring her a glass. "Why are we still here? We should go get divorced!" Y/n implored him. "You need to know where you got married first." Daniel replied, drinking the champagne from the bottle as Y/n looked on. She downed the glass quickly before grabbing the bottle from Daniel. "I need more than a glass." She mumbled, amking Daniel laugh. "I don't know why you're so upset, I'd make a great husband."
"Daniel, can we just think about what happened and then we'll get down to the details of whether or not you're a good husband?" Daniel nodded before Y/n began to think. "So chief, what happened last night?" Daniel asked, rubbing his temples in an attempt to alleviate the throbbing ache. Y/n shook her head, her expression mirroring his confusion. "I don't really remember much. We were at that bar, right?" Daniel nodded slowly, bits and pieces of their escapades starting to trickle back into his consciousness. "Yeah, we were celebrating... something." He lifted the champagne tp his lips once more before handing it over to Y/n. She frowned, trying to recall the reason behind their impromptu celebration. "Was it the points you scored? Maybe my new song got number one?"
"Maybe we just got fucking wasted." Daniel shrugged, before Y/n slapped his bare chest, making him wince in pain. "Oh, shit. I'm sorry." Y/n said. "I vaguely recall a dance-off and a questionable karaoke rendition of 'I Will Survive.'" She ran her fingers through her hair. "Oh, great," Daniel chuckled. "Classic Vegas moves." As she continued on with the possibilities, Daniel looked at the crumpled looking paper on the night stand. Daniel unfolded it tentatively, his heart sinking as he read the words scrawled across the page: Marriage Certificate - Daniel Ricciardo & Y/n Y/l/n - Las Vegas, Nevada.
Y/n's hand flew to her forehead as the reality of their situation sunk in. "Oh my God... we actually got married." Daniel let out a chuckle laugh, his mind oscillating between disbelief and amusement. "I know. I would have actually gotten you a nice ring. Maybe an expensive one?" Y/n slapped his chest again. "Yeah, it's still sore when you do that."
"Sorry, but you need to stop joking about this. It's serious!" She said. "It's really not. No one even knows." She looked to him. "We were clubbing with other drivers, surely one of them were there. Daniel went to turn on his phone, but it was dead. "Must have been to occupied to charge my phone." Daniel joked. "Yeah, getting married." Y/n replied, charging her phone. "I was thinking of starting our honeymoon." He gasped. "Are we going to have a baby Ricciardo?"
"No!" Daniel arched a brow. "Excuse me, but you would be lucky to have a child with my genes." He said, pretending to be hurt. "Yeah, and your humour." She rolled her eyes. "See? Dream team." They sat in silence for a few minutes. She expected a call from her manager at any given second. He was going to kill her. Daniel noticed how tense she was getting and turned to Y/n, holding out his hand. "Well, at least we've got one epic story for the grandkids." Y/n chuckled, taking his hand. "Yep, and a marriage certificate to prove it."
"If our managers don't call us in the next hour, they won't know and I say we go get divorced." Y/n thought about it for a moment. "I mean, if they don't know why bother? The point of us divorcing is so they get off our backs. Plus, it's broad daylight. If people see us going to the Chapel, people will find out." Daniel nodded. "So we're staying married?" Y/n smiled. "Of course. You're like the best husband I could have asked for." Daniel squeezed her hand. "Well, I say we head to the airport and get out of here." Daniel suggested, getting up. "Or we could enjoy our honeymoon with some movies?" He chuckled and sat back down, grabbing the remote control and turning Netflix on. "Sounds good. Can I?" Y/n nodded, allowing Daniel to wrap an arm around her as she leaned into him. "You're coming to Abu Dhabi, though." Daniel said. "Duh. You're going to go to the last race without your wife?"
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ssahotchnerr · 5 months
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So the mom friend!reader fic?? What if she’s sick and trying to hide it from the others, especially Aaron, while at work and also still trying being the mom friend 😭🖤
hidden efforts
AWW cw; fem!reader, being sick descriptions, established relationship (aaron and reader are married), fluff <333 continued from simultaneously
despite hand sanitizer and vitamin c, whatever cold spencer had managed to overtake your immune system next. brutally.
you woke up feeling unwell, but it was just a distant pang. nothing major, nothing worth staying home over. but as the day moved forward you began to regret your decision; you barely had the strength to lift a pen. and through the course of the morning, the trash bin hidden underneath your desk had grown dangerously full of tissues.
while you loved taking care of others, you didn't favor being the one being coddled. unless it was by someone with the first name aaron, last name hotchner. but even then, would you be reluctant to admit it.
"hey, do you know what-"
"2:30." you foolishly pushed your voice, attempting to hide the hoarseness within it - to sound as normal as you possibly could.
derek crossed his arms, amused sass in his voice, "i didn't even finish my question."
"but i answered it, didn't i?" you tried your hardest to return a teasing smile, but it was half your best. instead, you fought back a sneeze, prompting your eyes to water and nose to burn.
he nodded slowly, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly in suspicion. but he dropped it quickly, moving on.
and for the meantime, you turned back to the waiting work in front of you, forcing yourself to get something done.
"hey."
aaron's voice and sudden hands on the back of your chair caused you to jump in your seat. he quickly squeezed your shoulders, silently apologizing for startling you.
"you ready...?" his voice trailed off as his eyes scanned the contents of your desk, littered with cough drop wrappers and a few scrunched up tissues.
you did your best to block the scraps from his view - leaning forward, discreetly swiping them off side towards the container holding your pens - almost letting a cough escape as you opened your mouth. "y-yeah-"
"what are those?"
"the action reports for-"
"no, not that." aaron reached forward and plucked a wrapper off your desk, holding it up between his finger pads. his lips formed into a pout, "sweetheart, are you not feeling well?"
"i'm feeling perfectly fine."
due to the wheels on your chair, aaron was easily able to maneuver you back, exposing your tissue-filled bin. "then what's this?"
"allergies?" you offered, in a hopeful tone - maybe he'd buy that?
but naturally, your husband knew better, "why didn't you tell me you felt sick?"
"i'm not sick, jus' a cold." you swiveled your chair around, peering up at him.
the back of aaron's hand found your forehead, the scowl on his face deepening at his findings. "i don't think so. you're running a temperature, and now that i have a better look at you, you're rather flushed as well."
"flushed or not, we have a meeting-"
"no, we have a meeting." aaron responded, referring to himself and the others, "you're going right up to my office and laying down."
you gazed at him exasperatedly, playing up that look in your eyes, the one that was nearly impossible for him to say no to. "aaron-"
"nope, i’m not falling for it this time," he helped you to your feet, his hand supporting the far side of your hip as you wobbled vaguely. his eyes darted to the right, taking quick notice of someone walking by, "anderson, would you mind grabbing a water bottle and bringing it to my office?"
"so much for vitamin c, huh?" derek chimed in from his desk, his playful smile also on the sympathetic side.
you rolled your eyes, but allowed aaron to guide you up the few stairs into his office, gratefully.
he insisted you lay down on the couch (and not get up for the life of you), he insisted you keep the lights off, he insisted you use his suit jacket as a makeshift blanket.
"we'll head home once this concludes. if you need anything, give me a call, or send a text. i'll be here." aaron brushed your hair away from your forehead, placing a gentle kiss on it afterwards. "and, choice of soup is yours tonight."
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blueparadis · 9 months
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❝VOID❞ + JING YUAN.
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+. CWs —» established relationship, arrange marriage, husband!jing yuan x wife!fem!reader, slowburn, a little worldbuilding, mutual pinning, smut, oral acts, he is so lovesick here it makes me cry. word count-3.5k (I'm in misery)
+. PRECIS —» Jing Yuan has picked up a new hobby ever since he married you and brought you to Xianzhou. He riles you up because of two reasons; one: he loves seeing your reactions and two: he relishes the thrill of appeasing you in various ways.
+. NOTES —» This is for @8kh. I've been wanting to write something for you for a long time and after reading your jing yuan i knew i he was the chosen one. I hope you really like this huntie. finding you on this hellsite is one of the best thing that has happened to me and i'm so grateful for you godly writing.
back to blog navigation.
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Lately, Jing Yuan has been spending most of his time with Yanqing. Training him in fighting, teaching him about the history of lands and management, and sometimes tutoring him in case the official pedagogue was absent. Yanquing has been an integral part of his life. Ever since he brought you to his homeland by marrying you; you never complained just learned to get used to it. It was not like he was not giving you time, he was but more than you needed, more than you wanted. Jing Yuan just wanted to give you space because arrange marriages are not a match made in heaven. So, in his head, he was just being a patient husband. 
The first few months were wasted due to too many rituals and traditions. Then, the night arrived that he was waiting for, like a hungry lion watching his prey grow bigger with each passing day. It was one of the best nights he had, both in terms of consummating the marriage and sleep. He is no master at things like this but he tried his best within his knowledge. He knew it bits and pieces. He was inexperienced. He was modest. He was gentle.
But lately, all he can think about is how he wants to pleasure you, be near you, and make you happy. He is relieved that he has Yanqing to occupy his time when he is away from you otherwise he would become someone you would definitely dislike. He has noticed how easily you blended in his household, with the workers, staff, commoners, and especially with Yanqing. No doubt he has grown fond of you. Sometimes when Jing Yuan was busy with wars and meetings he would occasionally spot Yanqing with you. It would make his chest tighten but at the same time lighten his heart seeing you are slowly adjusting, trying to fill the gap left by your homeland— which means you are trying to work this marriage out just like he wants, which means he can keep you, which means he can own you.
When he feels his chest contort in pain he while seeing you smile avoids you. For days. He does not know why and he is not bothered about it as long as you are happy, as long as your smile is intact. He thinks it must be the guilt of snatching you off from your home. You must miss your home, if not the people then the climate, the food, and so on. It pains him. 
It really vexed you when he kept Yanqing busy during evenings with books and games when he should spend time with you to show you the ropes of palace management. And, late at night, when he comes crawling to you exhausted from his worldly affairs he becomes a little handsy, not that you mind but you wish he would rather tell you before showing you. At dawn you find yourself curling into his chest with one of his arms underneath your head as a pillow.
Tonight would be no exception. Yanqing was buried in books while the general was in his inner chambers. The sun has just bid goodbye to the sky. It is time for you to retire from your work too. You entered his room and found him nowhere so you strolled towards his bath lounge witnessing an odd thing. The general was soaking himself in the bathtub, the steam of hot water filling the room and a maid was applying soap in his shoulders.
It instantly made you sick to your stomach. The thing that was happening in front of your eyes seemed oddly familiar yet this is the first time you have ever witnessed him in such a poor display of taste. Oh! That's right. You have heard stories from your mother and read some too when you were young when you were not married.
Jing Yuan opened his eyes as the approaching footsteps came to a halt. “Well, this is a surprise.” He exclaims waving his hand towards the maid. But even before that she already stopped herself when she saw you and was ready to leave even before her master ordered to. Your husband did not fail to notice the gravity of your presence that affected her, and almost made her leave without her master's permission. As the maid left the bath lounge closing the door behind, Jing Yuan let out a short-lived soft chuckle. “It seems that my little sparrow is angry at me.” leaning his head at the edge of the tub closing his eyes.
Half a minute passed yet there was no response from you. When he opened his eyes again he could not see you. His eyes scanned the room and it stopped where you were fidgeting inside a cabinet. “Sorry to interrupt your bath, your Highness. I just came to take some of the bathrobes that I left last time.” He clicked his tongue in annoyance. He hates it when you address him by those petty titles. Master, general, highness — he hates all of them. with a heap of silky robes in your hands you proceeded towards the exit.
“You could have asked some maid to do that.” His words made you pause. You turned around trying your best to keep up the poker face inhaling the stabbing sadness in your ribs. “I apologize my ... master. I'll keep that in mind. You will not be disappointed next time.” As those words escaped your mouth you could slowly come to terms with the reality, of what was happening. You have seen your mother shed enough tears to be aware of what feelings can do. It is common for a high-ranking male like your husband to own one or two, or maybe more concubines so it is best not to get too attached to him.
“Hmmm.” Jing Yuan speaks again, “Since you scared her away help me to clean.” There was no hint of kindness, just straightforward orders which was the only thing you had a hard time adjusting to since in you came here. His orders. His fucking annoying habit of barking orders. In your hometown, no one dared to bark orders like that but you were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps, it was just his force of habit.
“Yes. My ma—”
“Lion.” Jing Yuan corrected quirking one of his brows as your eyes snapped at him. “I prefer Lion.” He held your gaze. You sauntered towards his back breaking the eye contact, keeping those robes on the nearest shelf and picking up the soap to apply on his shoulders. Scrunching up your nose in disgust you hesitated before touching him. The memories of your mother crying and your father shouting at her were too frequent in your mind for you to focus on him. You closed your eyes before finally touching him but he grabbed your hands and when you opened your eyes by hearing splashes of water, he was already standing, naked, dripping with water. 
The steam in the room had long faded.You felt your ears burn, cheeks heat up seeing him naked. You have seen him naked before during your first night but this is still embarrassing. When you finally looked at your husband he said, “You know what . . . I changed my mind.” with an upcurve at the corner of his lips. He stepped out of the tub.
“God! You’re so soaked. Let me grab you a towel otherwise, you’ll catch cold” Great. No honorifics. No modesty. Things did not go as Jing Yuan planned. Moreover, you are so sly at avoiding him. Maybe he really hit your nerves hard this time. You were about to turn with a towel in your hand but wet, toned muscular arms wrapped around your upper body.
“you looked like you were jealous.” He stated cooingly resting his chin on the crook of your neck, his member nudging the apex of your hips. Even through the fabric, you could feel your skin igniting with goosebumps.  “She is just an ordinary maid. Don't fire her or punish her, okay love ?” He sounded apologetic and regretful, flawlessly hidden underneath his husky voice. You exhaled. You do not need his explanation nor he is obligated to give you one. With his position and wealth, he could have anything at any moment. Your title is nothing in front of his orders. The perpetual tapping sound broke you from the trance. He just undid the chain of buttons of the gown that you were wearing. You could see your reflection in the mirror and his amber eyes glued on you as started to slide his hand through the innerwear.
“I was not jealous.” You babbled feeling his fingers playing with the straps of your innerwear.  Turning around you sat at his feat hoping to avoid his eyes and whatever he thought he could do by unbuttoning your dress. “I was just surprised, my lord. If you had told me about this, I would not have acted the way I did. I would not have embarrassed you. I would not dare. I am really sorry — Jing Yuan chinned up your face. Seeing tears settle at the corner of his eyes he cursed himself
Fuck! He really should not have played a prank on you like this. He thought you would get jealous just like other girls, and he would have handled you in his own way like men generally do. But seeing those tears was somehow satisfactory since he never thought he would mean so much to you; rather than being jealous you are hurt at the thought of losing him or having any woman by his side. He had stopped taking baths in the presence of others since he became a man and doing it just to get a reaction out of you was definitely not a good idea. You swayed your face jerking away from his hold embarrassment hitting your body in all proportions but he was strong, a lot stronger than you could ever imagine. 
“Wow, my lion is sensitive today.” You stated as he stood hovering above you. Jing Yuan's mind is so quick to wander from those eyes that were trying their best to hold back the tears to your trembling lips. He runs his thumb on your bottom lip holding your chin as he kept up with your gaze. You do not move. You do not avert his gaze. You let him grow comfortable in the silence. 
“And my little sparrow is so wounded today.” He swallows as he enjoys the view of you. His beautiful innocent wife sitting at his feet. It makes him want to ruin you in ways that he even can not seem to fathom yet. 
“General,” two loud bangs followed. “The meeting is ready. And you promised you would let me join tonight.” It would definitely be Yanqing. Jing Yuan pressed the bridge of his nose letting out a frustrated groan. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon. You carry—Taking this golden opportunity you stood and walked away towards the door. On your way out you grabbed a serape that Jing Yuan generally uses. He ruined those buttons anyways. You have to get it fixed by a tailor.
“Are you not forgetting something? Hmmm, my little sparrow,” You paused and looked sideways. From your peripheral vision you could tell he was wrapping a night robe. You just nodded in denial. The moment you took another step he grabbed you from behind. This time his grip was harder. You winced a little and he turned you around keeping his firm grip on your forearms. “I will see you in our room tonight.” He smiled before leaving a kiss on your forehead. “Don’t lock the room like last time.”
As soon as he released you, you ran like a bird without looking back. Jing Yuan could hear the sound of your anklets accompanied by hurried footsteps. When it stopped he could hear Yanqing's voice and your smooth melody of laughter. “She is lively as ever,” Jing Yuan painfully groaned looking at his rock-hard cock.
The assembly was going smoothly. Several warlords were present today. Xianzhou has been at peace for centuries but not Jing Yuan’s mind. His mind was always busy weaving something. Evenings never go empty. Even though he eradicated all the threats, he still makes schemes for battles because that is what he is made for, that is all his mind can do— predict and prepare for battles, eradicate or kill any possible threats, train or recruit potential candidates for the next general after him. His life has become an experiment, and he himself a weapon. He is an inspiring legend to many. People aspire to be like him. 
But Oh! How he wished he could throw it all away sometimes. But he can not. His hands are tied. He is born to lead and protect. Any slight deviation in the system might collapse it from the roots and that is what he feared most: changing and mellowing because of life. And it happened so quickly and so vividly that he had no choice but to embrace it. Marriage was not the part of plan and he had no manual on ‘how to run a marriage so by nature he is bound to experiment and go through the ups and downs.
Like right now, all he can think of when this meeting is going to end and he is to retire in your chambers. Generally, you are to wait for him in the master bedroom only after he sends the message to see you but he has broken many rules and traditions to the point that some are deemed null and void for him. He could dismiss all the warlords and commissioners at ease but Yanquing is so invested that it makes him change his decision. In the end, he was too conflicted between Yanqing and you that he ended up going by his schedule. Finished the meeting, had supper, and retired to his chambers. So, to distract himself he carved an eagle out of a piece of wood during the meeting till it came to an end. He would have given it to Yanquig but he rather felt comfortable keeping it to himself.
Staring at the heavily embellished ceiling he thinks if he could still visit you, if you would still keep the door open or deliberately lock it even after his polite reminder. But a certain locked door would not keep you apart from him. He would still visit you if he wanted like he did that one time. Around midnight when you were tossing and turning he was standing right behind the door. He was still hesitating because of the cold war he had with you this evening. He did not mean to hurt you. He just wanted a reaction, a mechanical reaction that he could match with otherworldly things and tend to it.
Exhaling strongly he knocked once. No answer. Twice. Still, no answer. Thrice. “Alright. That’s it. I’m coming in” he murmured with annoyance before swinging the door open only to find you sleeping at one side of the bed peacefully. He smiled to himself at the sight. So, you were expecting him despite the hurt he caused you. He sat by the edge of the bed as soundlessly as possible trying not to wake you up. Something nudged his hips and when he checked his pockets he found the carved eagle. Keeping it to a side bed table his eyes landed on you again. You released a soft moan as you turned around and he could feel his cock twitch. He wished he could fuck you witless right now but at the same time, he did not want to disturb your sleep, especially after hurting you this evening so badly; though unintentionally but he did. He keeps reminding himself of that.
Jing Yuan kept staring at your face for a while until he finally gave in. As he brushed the back of his fingers along your cheek you jerked wide awake. Nice reflexes. You curled at the corner of the bed in an instant like a coiled spring pulling the duvet up to your neck. Now that he thinks about it, you were wearing such a flimsy dress that he could see your breasts. But his eyes were solely focused on your face. He blinks before locking eyes with you as he speaks. “Do you find me that appalling? Are you scared of me that much?” 
“No. I could never. Please do not misunderstand. I’m—-
“Sorry?” he finishes your sentence. 
“Ugh. not scared.” You bit the inner flesh of your bottom lip. ”And not appalled.” Jing Yuan blinked in surprise a few times cocking his head at you. Of course. He could never see eye to eye with him. You have to oppose him, prove him wrong, say something entirely different from what he expected of you, do something anything remotely related he had thought you could do. His lips tug up in delight as he crawls towards you. “Not bothered either?” he slides the duvet away from your grips. You do not respond. There is no point in it. He would catch your lie anyways.  
Jing Yuan closes his eyes before grazing his nose against your cheeks very lightly making you grip the silk bedsheets. “your heart is beating so fast right now.” He rasps. His hot breath tickles your nerves. 
“Yours too, my lion.” you whispered back. He recoils looking at you with a surprise. He is now hovering over you being all on his fours while you were underneath him, on your knees touching his chest. As you straightened your legs as a gesture to invite him he grew more surprised by you. He could do two things. Either he can talk it out with you or he can fuck your brains out. He chose the second. 
Jing Yuan's lips landed on yours disrupting your balance. His weight forced you to lie on the bed. His arms slide underneath your waist scooping you up as if you were not close enough to him. His kiss grew hungrier eliciting slow soft moans and shaky breaths from you. Your hands flew back to the back of his nape and then slides upon his chest. Unable to take him any longer you pressed on to his chest slightly. He retreated, huffing and panting savoring the hungry look in your eyes. “Hold this for me,” he muttered bunching up your nightgown up to your waist. He could ask you to take it off or hold it above your chest displaying your breasts for him but he did not do that. He wanted you to do that, voluntarily. He wanted to remove the veil of modesty you have once and for all. It will take time and he is a patient hunter.
As he brought his mouth towards your entrance you gulped and the moment his mouth latched on to your vagina it felt like he was tasting the forbidden fruit of heaven for the first time. This is not the first time he has gone down on you but something was different. He was earnest and hungry, his tongue was swiftly licking your folds, his lips sucking onto your bud. It felt like he was about to devour your soul out of your astral body. Your hand reached onto his head, diving into his silver strands. He sucked at your bud hard before pausing to speak.  “you keep your hands where they are or I'll tie them up.”
You were so out of breath to fabricate a reply but inhaling deeply you exclaimed softly, “Like this.” bunching up your garment up to your neck and then discarding it. 
“you're such a fucking tease, you know that?” he mused merrily before diving back his mouth into your cunt. He kept sucking and licking as your moans kept rising, your body squirming, and his grip on your hips grew stronger. You shut your eyes closed, feeling a knot forming at the pit of your stomach. His teeth sank into your inner thigh as he managed to push his fingers into your hole. With a few erratic strokes along with sucking and biting your lips and you came into his palm, soaking the bed sheets. 
When he sat upright with glistened nose and lips, and disheveled hair you were buck naked while he was still clothed. “This going to be a long night.” He teased seeing you tugging with the sash of his robe. He leaned towards you giving you a taste of your juices. “Don’t you just taste divine?” he says breaking the kiss. 
“I couldn’t tell, my lion.” You hinted asking for more. Jing Yuan smiles, his eyes flash on the wooden eagle he kept at the bedside table. He smirked before kissing you back fervently. 
Yeah. It can wait. The baby talk can definitely wait.
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kxsalt · 16 days
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An evening of laughter over dinner. The young lady sits at the table with a couple, sharing wine and stories. Ever since the pair had moved back into the city, she had quickly grown very close to her friend and her new husband. From the first time she saw them together, the single girl thought they were a perfect couple. She watches them share a kiss with a pang of jealousy and another emotion her inexperienced soul can’t quite describe yet.
A week later the girl rides the train home after a terrible date. The woman had no romantic intentions and was only interested in selling health supplements. Already exhausted, she opens her dating app to see a hundred shirtless men holding fish. She closes it again with a frustrated grunt. The girl arrives at her station and starts to make her way through the crowd.
Up ahead, in the throng of people, she spots her newlywed friend. Her heart jumps, and she pushes through the mob to try and get close to her. I can’t wait to tell her about my horrible date. Maybe she’ll want to hear about it over dinner again. That unfamiliar feeling returns. Getting closer, her friend steps out of the human traffic, standing with a man she doesn’t recognize. The girl is only a few metres away, but invisible among the other passengers.
She watches her friend pull the strange man in for a kiss.
Disbelieving her own eyes, the girl freezes. Even as annoyed people bump into her, she watches, mouth agape as the married woman makes out with the stranger.
What am I seeing. I must be crazy. She wouldn’t cheat on him, they’re both perfect… for each other. I must have this person mistaken for my friend.
The kiss breaks and the woman laughs. A laugh as unique as a fingerprint. The girl sees every detail of her smile.
Oh god, it is her. Why me? What am I going to do?
She returns to her empty apartment, feeling strangely heartbroken. Her husband is an amazing man, doesn’t he deserve to know? Is it none of my business? How could she do this? The next few days are torment. Wracked with guilt from her involuntary secret, she decides to take the unenviable step of telling him about his wife’s infidelity. I have to. It would hurt him more if I didn’t tell him. And it would help her in the end. That unfamiliar feeling cracks through her fear.
Arriving at the couple’s home, the girl feels like she’s going to have a heart attack. Welcoming her in, the married man makes her a cup of tea. The girl is obviously distraught, and he tries his best to calm her down so she can talk. A word salad spills from her mouth, and she starts to cry as she explains what she saw. The man’s face falls as the girl becomes more overwrought. She finishes her story, looking at his soft, compassionate expression.
“I am so sorry that you saw that. I can see how upsetting this is to you. We were always worried that something like this would happen. I’m sorry it was you.”
The girl stops crying, disoriented by his response. She expected him to be angry, or sad, or devastated. But his only concern is for her. He doesn’t seem hurt in the slightest. The man brings her some tissues and encourages her to drink her tea. Sitting down beside her on the couch, he gently starts to explain.
“When we first started dating, we were seeing other people, too. It kind of just… never stopped. We felt comfortable with it, and we knew we wanted to be with each other… It’s changed a lot over the years. When we became official, we would give each other passes, for a date or a night of fun. Always equal. We agree on a pass, we each hook up with someone, and then we come back together. I know it’s unusual, but it works for us.”
The girl is bewildered by his explanation. He continues:
“When we got married, we knew it would change again. We both want to settle down, find a different way for us to do stuff like this without chasing random people. Actually, this pass is supposed to be the last time... Like that at least. I’m so sorry that you got so upset by what we’re doing. You’re a good friend, I know you care about both of us so much. I can see how that would terrify you.”
Her head swims, she stares at the wall. The adrenaline of her mission has worn off, replaced by confusion and embarrassment. He calls his wife and asks her to come home early, so they can explain everything together. A half hour later, she rushes through the door and envelops the young girl in a big hug. The couple holds hands while they answer her questions. The girl relaxes. Her heart warms when she sees them kiss, confirmation of their love.
Feeling as if she has intruded enough, she gets ready to leave. Excusing herself to the bathroom before she goes, the girl sits on the toilet pondering the night’s conversation.
Out of all the possible outcomes, this is the best I could have hoped for. She washes her hands. The best I could realistically hope for. The girl is confused by her own line of thinking. Anything better would be impossible. She dries her hands. What else could I wish for? The girl stares at herself in the mirror, that strange new feeling wells up inside of her, stronger than ever before.
Leaving the bathroom, she finds her friend waiting for her.
“Thank you for being so understanding… I know it’s a lot. I know you came here because you wanted what was best for us, even though it was scary. I admire that. He admires that. You’re a good friend.”
“Thanks, I’m sorry I got so far up in your business… Good luck now that you’re through the ‘giving out passes’ phase. I hope whatever you two do together brings you closer together.”
“Oh, well, we’re not quite done with the pass thing yet.” She subtly points into the living room. “He hasn’t used his pass yet.”
“Ah, well, if I see him with a girl I won’t come crying to you. Haha.”
“Haha, yeah. I mean he could use it with whoever he wanted to. That’s how it works.”
“Right, you explained that earlier.”
An awkward pause drags through the conversation.
“Do you want to stay for dinner tonight?”
“I feel like I already overstayed my welcome.”
“You haven’t. I feel like we should make it up to you.”
“Uh, maybe? I don’t know.”
“I want you to fuck my husband.”
The conversation screeches to a halt. The girl stares at her friend, dumbfounded. They start to talk over one another. You don’t think I’ve been trying to sleep with him, do you? No, I just thought you might like to try it. I wouldn’t want to cause any trouble. It’s no trouble. Wouldn’t it be weird? I don’t think so. Does he even want to? He’s brought it up before. Isn’t that weird? I brought it up first. I’m wearing ugly underwear. I could let you borrow something.
“I’m afraid it would feel like cheating.”
“I could watch, to support you. So you know it’s okay.”
The young lady’s heart almost leaps from her chest. Why did that convince me? At a loss for words, she nods her head.
Standing naked in the couple’s bedroom, she paws through her friend’s clothing. A mixture of fear and excitement whirs though her mind. Taking out a tiny pink thong, she slips it on and steps in front of the mirror. Her familiar emotions mix with the unfamiliar ones. Why does it feel so hot, wearing her lingerie?
A knock at the door, her friend enters. “You look beautiful.” The young girl blushes unexpectedly at the compliment. “My husband will love you. Are you ready?” Another emotion, another nod, more confident this time. She summons her husband.
He gives her a kind smile as he walks into the room. A loving peck on his partner’s cheek, and the man steps towards the new girl. His arms wrap around her waist and their lips touch. They surprise each other with a deep, passionate kiss. Their tongues flirt, their noses rub, their hands roam. His kisses work down her cheek, and into her neck. The girl gasps and looks over to his wife. Relief and joy as she sees her gorgeous smile. His wife’s lips move, whispering. Keep going.
Eager to please them, she reaches down to feel his cock bulge in his pants. The man groans and returns the favour, grasping her wet pussy through the skimpy thong. They touch each other, faster and faster, kissing open and free. She unzips his pants and starts to stroke his cock. He lifts up his shirt so she can see him. His body looks better than I ever imagined.
Dropping to her knees, she takes him in her mouth. The faint taste of his precum overpowers her senses. Fingering herself wildly through her friend’s tiny underwear, the girl does everything she can to make him feel good. Glancing over at his wife, she sees her rubbing her bare pussy. She’s lifted up her dress to touch her breasts, too. Her body looks better than I ever imagined.
The trio are thoroughly excited. Nobody can wait for what comes next. He lifts the girl up and tosses her onto the bed. She spreads her legs and pulls the thong to the side. The husband pushes her legs up against her chest. “Oh god, it looks so good.” The wife chimes from her spot in the corner. He rubs his hard cock against her exposed pussy. “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”
The tip, the head, half way, all the way. There’s no going back now. The married man’s cock stretches out the single girl’s pussy, and they exhale. Enjoying the warmth of his wife’s friend’s body, he starts to stroke his cock in and out of her. The girl trembles, getting used to his size. The wife gasps, rubbing her clit as fast as she can. They fuck each other, making out while the tension releases. The girl is overwhelmed by pleasure and excitement. She starts to encourage her friend.
“Your husband’s cock is so big! Ah~! It’s so good! Ah~! So big… Ah~! Your husband is fucking me so… Ah~! Good!”
“You like that, you dirty little slut?”
“Yes, I love it.”
The couple on the bed roll over. The girl takes his hands and puts them on her ass. A firm grip, and he pulls on her bumcheeks. So he can get deeper. So she can see every inch enter her. She bounces on his dick, thrilled at the thought of how little her friend’s thong is hiding. She feels her orgasm build inside of her. Quickening her pace, the girl will finish soon.
The sounds of a woman cumming fill the room. The couple look over at the wife, helplessly masturbating as she fingers herself to completion. They look back to each other, grinning. “Now it’s my turn…” The girl giggles, playing with her clit while his strong hands pull her up and down on his cock. They kiss passionately again. The girl cums on his married dick, picking up where his wife left off. Pushed over the edge by their chorus, he fills her sweet pussy.
They lie there for what could be an hour, could be a few minutes. The girl slowly climbs off of him, and walks past his wife, also basking in the glow of her orgasm. She heads down the hall, back to the bathroom, to wash up after their encounter. Looking at herself in the mirror again, her unfamiliar feelings beat in her chest. An epiphany strikes her. Like a ray of light through the clouds, she understands herself.
Stepping back into the hallway, his wife is waiting for her again.
“I really, really, enjoyed that… I hope you did, too.”
“It was almost perfect.”
The girl walks up to her. She wraps her hands around her waist. Their lips meet, they kiss. They push back into each other, letting the taste of their first embrace waft through them.
Their fingers touch. Holding hands, tugging lightly, they walk each other back to the bedroom.
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amatchinwater · 2 years
Text
I Know What You Want From Me / Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Summary: Song fic of 18 by Anarbor, your parents kick you out when you tell them you can't be with Jason because you're already dating Eddie...except that you aren't. So now you have to go to Eddie after not speaking for years and ask to not only live with him, but pretend to date you too. What could possibly go wrong there?
Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, semi-public sex (they're in the woods), squirting, unprotected sex (reader on pill, but not stated until after), cream pie, choking, spanking, protective reader (Jason gets his shit rocked), angst with a happy ending, fluff, protective Eddie, reader's parents are awful
Words: 9746 (oops?)
a/n: I feel like I've been working on this forever and a day. With the finale, I had to stop because angst wasn't something I could handle just yet. But the fluff and ending makes the angst worth it. Requests are still open.
Master list
Part 2
Not my gif!! Credit to the lovely @msmischief101
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It’s been a long time since you’ve pulled into Forest Hills Trailer Park. A really long fucking time. Part of you wants to turn around, just get on the highway and never look back at this godforsaken town and their prejudiced beliefs. That having money and a pristine lifestyle makes you worth something. It’s bullshit. And you fucking hate it. And you want out. Hell, your bags are already packed in the backseat behind you.
You’re eighteen, legally, if you really wanted to, you could run. Run as far away from not only Hawkins, but Indiana in general. Now that you’re eighteen, you have a sizable trust fund. Your father wanted to rescind your rights to it. Change it to where you’d only see a penny once you were twenty-one. Or worse; married. Somehow your mother convinced him not to do that, that you’d be able to use the money for college. 
You’re not even sure you want to do that either. 
But there was one person in your life who told you that no matter what you did, they’d always stick beside you. While that statement hasn’t held true these last six years or so, it was far from it being his fault. No, you shamefully hold that crown. 
Once you started to rise up the social ladder in school and your father got a big time promotion at work, your parents forced the social debutant bullshit on you. You hated every single second of it. Every one of those dumb parties they dragged you to. The dinners and get-togethers. They all sucked. And everyone there was so vapid and full of themselves, you wanted to scream. 
Now that you’re eighteen and “supposed” to be looking at prestigious colleges for some job you’ll never want, your parents did the worst thing imaginable. They tried to set you up. Quite literally wanted to give you an arranged marriage. God, the look your father gave you like it was supposed to be some wonderful gift you should be grateful for. As if being pawned off to someone like Jason Carver is to be coveted. 
Fuck that. 
So you did something really stupid. Like, really stupid. You told them that you couldn’t be with Jason because you were already with someone else. You’d hoped it would just be enough to make them drop the issue. It wasn’t. They poked and prodded until you gave them a name. You told them the only person in Hawkins you could even remotely think of. 
Eddie Munson. 
The conversation with your parents was pretty short after that. Being told to pack your bags and not come back if you wanted to align yourself with “someone like him.” That if you were grown up enough to make your choices, to go live with him and see how long it lasts, and not to come crying to them when you wind up pregnant. 
You did exactly that. Grabbed everything you felt couldn’t be replaced and left. But for some reason, instead of just driving towards the town limit and getting the fuck out of dodge, you found yourself on your way to the trailer you used to spend a good chunk of your childhood in. 
Because you grew up there. You were once neighbors- something your parents try very hard to forget- and childhood best friends. You used to be on a first name basis with Wayne. And despite what everyone says about him, that he’s a freak or the satanist propaganda, you know Eddie. Knew Eddie. So maybe there was some small part of you that hoped Eddie was still that sweet kid at heart and would let you crash for a few months until graduation and then you could leave Hawkins for good. 
It was a stupid idea from the start. One not fully formulated or even properly processed. 
But here you are, pulling up to the familiar, yet foreign trailer with Eddie’s van parked right out front. And of course it’s pouring rain. The day your life goes to shit wouldn’t be a nice, calm evening. No. When have you ever been that lucky? When is anyone that lucky? 
Turning the engine off, you sit and listen to the rain patter against the roof of your car. Contemplating leaving again. Maybe the real reason you came here was so that you would be convinced to stay. Eddie has never been one to run from his problems. The bloody nose he gave Jason a year ago for taking a swing on him is proof of that. So maybe you really want someone to tell you to man the fuck up and grab life by the balls or some shit. 
Just some strange words that manage to sound inspiring because they’re coming from Eddie’s goofy grin. 
“Fuck it,” you grind your teeth, shoving your door open and stepping out into the storm, wincing when the freezing water sinks into your skin. “Shit, shit, shit,” you jog up to his front door, thankful for the awning over the porch. Not letting yourself be talked out of this, you pound on the door to be heard over Shout at the Devil being blasted from Eddie’s room. 
“Henderson, I already told you-” Eddie’s yelling as he yanks open the front door, “-you’re not Henderson.” 
“No,” you shiver, hands rubbing your arms. How did you possibly get drenched in the ten steps it took you to get from the car to his door? Eddie’s features are guarded and you can’t help but shiver again. From the cold or his stare, you’re not really sure. Maybe you should just leave. The highway is sounding more and more tempting. “I should just-” you trail off, gesturing back towards your car.
Eddie finally takes a look at your state and his eyes widen, furrowed eyebrows losing their tension, “no, come in,” he opens the door further. “I-I’ll get you a towel,” Eddie runs off. 
Shaky bones carry you over the threshold, goosebumps only getting angrier at the warmth of the trailer. It looks exactly like it did the last time you were here. Except maybe a few more hats have joined the collection on the wall. Eddie comes back with two towels, placing one on the couch and offering you the other. “Thanks,” you take it, toweling your hair before wrapping it around your shoulders, sitting on the one he’d set down for you. “I’m sorry to just barge in like this,” your eyes begin to burn with tears. 
“What happened? Are you okay?” Eddie sits beside you and you can practically feel his warmth radiating off of him. That's how cold you are. 
“I did something really stupid,” you admit, shaking your head, wanting to curl up in a hole. “My parents want to hand me over to Jason. Pretty bow and everything,” you choke out a laugh. “Like I’m some prized trophy wife or some shit.” 
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie nearly shouts. You laugh sarcastically, nodding your head. His face twists, “but hang on, that’s a stupid thing they did. What stupid thing did you do?”
You fiddle with the fraying corner of the towel, dropping your gaze to your lap, “I told them that I couldn’t be with Jason.”
“That doesn’t seem stu-”
“Because I’m in a relationship with you,” you pull your head back up, meeting deer in the headlight brown eyes and a slack jaw. Nerves make your tongue ramble, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I told them that. You were the first person that came to mind when they wouldn’t stop asking me who could be more important than Jason. And I just- I didn’t know what to do. So I just thought- I don’t know what I thought. But w-we used to be best friends once, I-”
“Yeah, once,” Eddie tongue in cheek scoffs, “then you got popular and I didn’t matter anymore. So, what? You thought you would just come here and I would live up to this fantasy relationship? Because it’s you?”
Your head drops again, “they told me if I wanted to be with you that badly that I should go live with you. That they didn’t recognize their daughter anymore. They kicked me out, or maybe I just ran. I don’t know, Eddie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into this.” Tears spill from your eyes, when you look back up at him, “I’ll just get back in the car and leave town like I should’ve done in the first place. I’m sorry,” you take the towel off your shoulders and place it in his lap, getting up off the couch. 
You make it all of three steps until Eddie’s hand wraps around your wrist, “wait.” He sighs as you turn to face him. “Let me get this straight, you told your parents you were dating me because I was the only person you could think of that was better than Jason?” 
Rolling your eyes, you scoff, “well, duh.” It might have been instinct that made you say it, doesn’t make it any less true. Jason doesn’t hold a candle to Eddie in any situation. Not to you. Years of separation be damned. 
“And you now have nowhere to live?” You shake your head no. Eddie sighs again, “I’ll do it.” 
“W-what?” You ask. Because surely you heard him wrong. Eddie doesn’t owe you a fucking thing. “What do you mean you’ll do it?” 
“I’ll help you keep this facade that we’re dating for the sake of your parents and Jason,” he sneers at the name. “Move in here with me, Wayne won’t mind. He still asks about you from time to time, I’m sure he’d love the idea. And then, when you graduate, you’re free to do whatever you want.”
Blinking rapidly, you nearly stumble backwards. Shocked that Eddie would do this. “Why?”
“Your parents are assholes,” Eddie laughs and you do too. He’s far from wrong. “Pissing them off by pretending to date you and giving you a safe place to live? Fuck yeah, I’ll do it. Besides, I’m sure if they told you about it, Jason already knows. Which means I get to make that asshole jealous. It’s a win-win.” He laughs again, softer this time along with his smile. “And you’re right. We were best friends once, maybe we could be again.” 
“I really don’t give a fuck what Jason or my parents think, Eddie. I’m just sick of them thinking that they can control me,” you tell him. “But if giving them the finger is enough incentive for you, then I appreciate it. For what it’s worth, I really miss having you as my best friend.” 
“Me too,” he smiles, pulling you into a hug. “How about you go take a shower and I’ll make you some hot chocolate. Booze free this time,” Eddie chuckles.
You laugh, remembering when you were younger and neither of you thought Wayne would notice the vodka two twelve year olds put in their drinks. “Honestly, I probably wouldn’t mind it this time around,” you pull away. 
“Comin' right up,” Eddie grins, heading into the kitchen while you go down the hallway. 
Stopping at the bathroom you poke your head around the corner, “hey, Eds.” He stops humming, milk hoovering the pot, quirking an eyebrow at you. “Thank you,” you smile, tucking into the bathroom to shower off before he can answer. 
At school the next day, you’re not really sure what to expect. Eddie drove you in his van and you were given more than a few looks from people you don’t even know. Which were thankfully easy enough to ignore. Somehow you’re also lucky enough that all of your classes before lunch didn’t have a single one of your “friends” either. Friends meaning Jason’s friends who were nice to you because you had money and a pretty face. 
But your actual lunch period? Practically the entire basketball team shared the same block as you. And the second you walk out of the lunch line, Jason immediately finds you. You’re wearing darker clothes and have certainly kept your head down. How the fuck did he find you so fast? 
“Hey, I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he smiles with too much teeth. Voice so sweet it’s sickening. 
“Should’ve hid better,” you mumble, clutching your tray to your chest to keep a barrier between the two of you. “Did you need something?” You ask, eyes scanning the room to find literally anyone you could run to to save you from this. You find Eddie’s friends from Hellfire all around the table, but no sign of Eddie himself. You know their names thanks to Eddie telling you about them last night. But you don’t really think you can just go up to them for help. 
“Well, I was talking to your parents the other day,” he pushes his hands farther into his letterman jacket pockets, ducking his head to appear coy. “I was hoping you’d like to go on a date with-”
An arm snakes around your waist and you nearly jump out of your skin, until you hear, “there you are, babe.” Eddie curls you close to him, kissing the side of your head, “you ready to go sit?” 
You turn to him with a grateful smile, ready to answer, but someone else’s words come out. 
“What the fuck is this?” Jason snaps. 
“I’m sure you know Eddie,” you smile sweetly, fighting the eye roll at the jock before you. “My boyfriend,” you state, loving the way Jason’s eyes are ready to bulge out of his head. Eddie chuckles smugly beside you, his grip tightening only just. You’re actually glad he’s getting something out of this too. Even if it’s just shoving it in Jason’s face. Makes it feel like you’re not using him.
“I thought they were joking!” Jason seethes, “you’re seriously with this freak? You chose him over me? A freak?” 
“Eds, could you hold this please?” You extend your tray towards him, which he takes with a confused expression. “Thanks,” you kiss his cheek, turning your attention back to the blonde. “One, no, it’s not a fucking joke. Two, he’s not a freak. And three,” you slap Jason right across the cheek with a resounding crack, silencing the cafeteria. “If I hear you say some shit like that about him again, you’ll be lucky a slap is all you get. Fuck off, Jason.” 
“Holy shit,” Eddie sputters a laugh, “that was fucking awesome!” Wrapping an arm around your shoulder, Eddie walks you towards the Hellfire table, neither of you caring about the grumbling jock behind you. Or the hushed chatter that’s fallen over the cafeteria. “And here I thought I was the one coming to your rescue,” he teases, placing your tray on the table surrounded by his wide eyed friends. “Come here,” Eddie sits down, his arms locking around your waist to pull you into his lap. “Thank you.”
“I’m your girlfriend, Eddie,” you remind him. Though it’s just for show, it doesn't mean that you’re not going to act the way a proper girlfriend should. Defending your boyfriend from an asshole definitely fits the bill. “I’m not going to stand by and let someone talk about you like that.” 
“So I definitely heard that right?” Dustin, if you remember correctly, stares at you two. “You two are dating? Since when?” He shrieks. 
You freeze for a second, you hadn’t thought that through. 
“For a few months now,” Eddie offers, his thumb rubbing reassuring circles on your waist. “Her parents are pretty strict," he rests his chin on your shoulder, humming in contemplation, "so we’ve been keeping it quiet for a bit. But, she was ready to go public with it.” 
“Slapping Carver in front of the whole cafeteria is pretty public,” Jeff laughs, “and pretty sick!” He offers his fist to you. 
You can’t help but laugh, feeling welcome at their table as you reciprocate the fist bump. It’s actually really nice. 
“My girl doesn’t mess around,” Eddie turns, kissing your neck. 
Maybe you two should’ve gone over some boundaries. Because that felt a lot better than it should’ve and you two aren’t even technically together. But then you remember that everyone is supposed to believe this so that Jason and your parents leave you alone. If even anyone suspects it’s not and word gets out that this isn’t real- you shiver at the very thought. And the way Eddie said ‘my girl’ sent a whole different kind of tremor down your spine. 
What have you gotten yourself into?
Somehow you managed to survive the first two weeks of publicly “dating” Eddie. Jason for the most part has left you alone and you haven’t seen or heard from your parents either. It’s so freeing. It makes you wish that you had stuck to your guns when you guys had moved out of the trailer park and kept Eddie in your life. Even listening to them and doing everything they wanted, they still turned around and did the worst thing imaginable. So what else could they have really done if you’d stuck by Eddie’s side the whole time? 
It’s too late to know now, but at least you can make up for the lost time by being here now. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind it. The dinners you share while Wayne is at work. The hasty breakfasts the three of you share in the mornings before school. The weekends though, the weekends are your favorite. Because unless Corroded Coffin has a gig, you and Eddie just hang out at the trailer together. 
“What did you wanna do today?” You ask, flopping down on the couch beside Eddie and throwing your legs on his lap. 
Rubbing your exposed calves, he purses his lips, “I was thinking I should probably take you on a date.” Eddie leans his head on the backrest of the couch to look at you. “You’ve been living here for two weeks now. While it’s all good and well that we’ve been annoying the living hell out of Jason at school, you know how people in this town love to gossip.” 
“Okay,” you draw out the word, furrowing your brows. Not really understanding why Eddie is willingly wanting to be with you romantically outside of school. That would make this feel real. You’d definitely feel like you were using him if you did that. 
“If people see us walking around town together, I’m sure word would get back to your parents.” Eddie pats your leg, “Jason isn’t the only one we’re supposed to be convincing, right?” 
He’s got a point. If your parents get a whiff of this relationship’s fallacies, they’ll drag you back home kicking and screaming. “What’d you have in mind?” You ask, warming up to the idea quickly. 
“There’s a double-feature of Nightmare on Elm Street at the theater tonight,” he shrugs, tracing shapeless designs on your skin. “We could do that and then walk around town with ice cream or some shit. That’s a couple-y thing to do, right?” 
You smile brightly, basking in his shyness. “That sounds really nice, Eds,’ you nudge him with your foot. “Most girls would swoon over a date like that. Well, they’d fight for some romantic movie. But I’m so down for Freddy. When does it start?” 
“About an hour.” 
“I’ll go get ready!” You hop up from the couch, practically running out of the living room, leaving Eddie chuckling on the couch. 
“Thank you,” you hear Eddie say, grabbing your ice cream cones from the girl behind the window of the cute little ice cream shop in town. “M’Lady,” he offers you your chocolate peanut butter scoops, holding his now free hand out for you to hold while you walk back to the van. He’d left it parked by the theater so you could have the whole ‘experience’ of a date. Eddie is just as serious as you are about making this seem real.
He’d even apologized to you for the neck kiss and you sitting in his lap. Explaining to you that he’s a pretty tactile person, that he’s only acting how he would if he was actually dating someone. He was adamant in you telling him if he makes you uncomfortable- he doesn't. Your heart throbbed painfully in your chest that you’re keeping some girl from being in an amazing relationship with such a sweet guy. Even more so when there’s an even worse pang at the thought that you don’t have this for real for yourself either. That this thing you have going with Eddie is fake. 
There’s this small part of you wondering if this could be real. 
“Thanks,” you smile, taking his hand, licking the creamy goodness. Eddie laughs a little at you while you’re walking and eating your desserts. “What?” You ask, licking your lips. 
“You got a little-” Eddie gestures towards your face. A group of girls walk past you arm in arm and Eddie smiles, “here, let me.” He leans in and kisses you, tongue brushing along your bottom lip for the smallest of seconds. Enough to send a shiver down your spine that certainly can’t be explained by the ice cream when his mouth is so warm. “Better,” he grins again, dragging his thumb from the corner of your mouth. 
There’s a blush violently burning your cheeks as you blink rapidly. You don’t even know what to say, so you turn your head, biting away a smile and reclaiming his hand to walk down the road again. “Thank you for tonight,” you say, tossing your napkin in the trash as you pass it. “It-” you pause, thinking you heard someone call your name. Shaking it off you try again, “it was really nice. So, thank you.” 
“Of course,” he drops your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. Kissing the side of your head, Eddie says, “I’m glad you had a good time. Enough people are out tonight so-”
“Y/N!” 
You definitely heard it that time. Eddie did too. Whipping around, you see your parents stalking their way towards the two of you. Speak of the devil, right? “Fuck,” you curse under your breath, anxiety stowing only just at the protective way Eddie tightens his hold around you. 
“Say the word and we run, okay?�� He whispers in your ear, "I've got you." 
All you can do is nod as your parents come to a halt in front of you. Your father barely even looking at you, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Your mom on the other hand can’t decide who to set her daggers for eyes on, you or Eddie. 
“Mrs-”
“Don’t.” Your mother holds her finger up at him, “you don’t get to talk.”
“Excuse me?” You sputter out.
“And you,” she sets her fury on you now, “it’s time for you to come home young lady. Enough playing house with him,” you mom can’t even say his name, yet the word holds the same amount of venom. “This isn’t you. Please, just come home and all will be forgiven.” 
Anger boils inside of you. Not asking how you are or caring if you’re happy. Just more of them telling you that you’re ‘not yourself’ and you’re so over it. “Fuck that,” you snap. “I’m not going anywhere with you. My home is with Eddie. Yeah, he has a name, mom,” you lace the word with as much disdain as she’d offered him. Shocking her to her core not only from your language, but your behavior. Good. You finally feel like yourself.
“Then we’ll cut you off,” your dad’s stern voice cuts in. “See how long it takes you to come crawling back with no money.” 
“First of all,” you square your shoulders, “both Eddie and Wayne make money. Second,” you chuckle dryly, “you’re really going to love this. I went to the bank. I’m eighteen now in case you forgot. I transferred everything into my own account. That money is mine. But if it means more to you than your own daughter, I’ll gladly give it back. I can very easily get a job. I don’t need anything from you.” 
Your father puffs his chest, “listen here-”
“No, I think it’s time you listen,” Eddie cuts him off. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with her or how she chooses to live her life. She is fucking incredible! And there's definitely no thanks to you fucking assholes. She’s an adult and capable of making her own decisions. And unlike you, I’d never hurt her or force her to do something she doesn’t want to. You want to stay with me, right?” He looks over at you.
It’s rhetorical, you're almost certain. But you answer it anyway, “absolutely.” 
“There is it,” Eddie grins widely, opening his arms at your parents. “She’s made her choice.”
“Let’s get out of here,” you pull gently on Eddie’s jacket, trying to coax him away. Eddie death glares at your father, but starts moving with you, only turning once you’ve yanked a little harder. 
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Your father snaps, his hand grabbing your arm tight enough to hurt. 
You whip your head around to face him, seething, “let go of me.” Eddie looks furious, ready to punch him in the face and honestly, you’d probably let him. But that’s more of a scene than you’re willing to cause right now. You won’t let Eddie get in trouble over you. When your dad makes no move to let go of you, you say, “let me go or I’ll scream.” 
He drops your arm as though it’d burned him, whispering your name with hurt eyes. 
“Come on, princess,” Eddie’s arm curls back around your shoulders, keeping you close. No longer face to face with your parents, your chest tightens and your eyes burn. Not because you miss them, but all of your emotions have boiled over, demanding release through tears. “Wait just a minute more,” Eddie rubs his nose in your hair, “don’t give them the satisfaction.” He opens the passenger door for you and you crawl inside. 
The second he’s settled in his seat, the tears fall freely. “I’m sorry they said that to you,” you sob, chest constricting. 
“Why are you apologizing to me?” He stares at you wide eyed, speaking softly. “I should’ve punched him in the face for what he said to you, are you kidding?” Eddie reaches over, cupping your face and wiping your tears with his thumbs. “No one should talk about you like that. Especially not your parents.” 
“Can we just go home please?” You ask, hoping sheer willpower will make your tears cease. Your eyes already feel sore. 
“Of course,” he rubs your cheeks again, leaning closer to kiss your forehead. “Here,” Eddie pulls his leather jacket off, handing it to you, “you’re shaking.” 
You smile softly, sliding your arms through the sleeves, the scent of Eddie so close calming you down enough that the tears well up, but don’t fall. It’s one thing to defend Eddie from some dickhead jock like Jason. Watching him stand up for you to your own parents, treating you vastly better than they ever have? Heartwarming doesn’t even come close.
“Do you need anything?” Eddie asks after you’ve showered and are just sitting up in bed, he’s changed into sweats now and a faded Metallica shirt. 
“Not unless you have something that can make my mind be quiet long enough to let me sleep,” you answer, curling your legs to your chest and holding them. 
Eddie purses his lips, “I could roll us a joint,” he offers. “I usually smoke before going to sleep. It could help. Only if you want to.” 
“I’ve never smoked before,” you whisper, embarrassed by the fact that you’re ‘dating’ a drug dealer, yet have never done any yourself. “But I trust you,” you try to smile, but it falls flat. Still a little too upset over earlier. “I’m willing to try if you think it will help.” 
“Best sleep you’ve had in a while,” Eddie smiles, walking over to his dresser, grabbing a wooden box from the drawer. “Are you sure?” He asks one more time, sitting down beside you, “I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you or anything.” 
“You’re not,” your smile is genuine this time, “I’m sure.” You stare at his fingers while Eddie pinches the weed into the thin paper. If you weren’t so upset, your brain would probably short circuit at the way his tongue glides along the edge. That shouldn’t be allowed to look like that. 
After he takes two puffs of his own, he hands the joint to you, blowing the smoke out. “You might want to take small hits,” Eddie suggests when you bring the rolled paper to your lips. “Small hits,” he repeats, hopping up from the bed, “I’m gonna get us a drink real quick. Small,” Eddie enunciates. 
You don’t really know what’s considered a small hit, so you inhale maybe halfway, doing your best to hold the smoke in your lungs before letting it out. A cough bubbles in your chest that burns nearly as much as the weed. Eddie comes back just in time with a can of soda for you. Cracking it open with a fond smile on his lips, he tosses some snacks on the bed beside you. “Not as bad as I thought,” you say after taking a sip. You take another hit, handing it back to Eddie once he’s seated. 
“Are you going to be okay?” He asks, squinting around the smoke trying to go in his eyes. 
With a heavy sigh, you prop yourself on the wall beside the bed, “I think so? I’m not even sure why I cried to be honest. They suck and I don’t know why I expected them to react any differently than that. I’m more angry about the way they treated you.” You take the joint back from him, Eddie scooting over until your thighs and arms are pressed together. Pulling the smoke into your lungs, you appreciate it not burning as badly as the first time around. Enough to take a bigger hit, “this is definitely helping. So are you,” you whisper. 
Eddie nudges you with his arm, “happy to help. You’re my best friend and I’m always going to be here to take care of you. Until you get sick of me that is,” he teases.
Laughter bubbles in your chest, your cheeks hurting from how much you're smiling. Whether that’s the weed or just Eddie in general doesn’t really matter to you. “Aww,” you coo, absolutely certain that your newfound confidence is from the drug, “I don’t think I could get sick of you, Eddie.” You tell him, playing with a lock of his hair, surprised when he doesn’t tell you to stop. “I’m really grateful for everything you’re doing. And I meant it, I don’t expect you and Wayne to take care of me for free. I’ll get a job if it comes down to it.” 
“Please,” he snickers, handing the roach to you to finish off, “Wayne is overjoyed that you’re here.” Eddie wraps his arm around your shoulder and you tuck your head into his neck. “If there was mention of you leaving, he’d probably pay you to stay. He really did miss having you around. I think he secretly always wanted a daughter.” He takes the almost burnt paper and places it in the ashtray by the bed. 
“But he got the metal head outcast with a heart of gold instead,” you smile though he can’t see it. “Just-” you huff a small breath, “thank you, Eddie. For everything.” 
Eddie kisses the side of your head, “of course, princess.” Too high to care, you giggle at the name shooting warmth throughout your system, but it’s broken off with a loud yawn. “Looks like I’ve done my job,” he chuckles softly, “I’ll let you get some sleep.”
You lay down on the pillow, pulling the blanket over you, but when Eddie tries to get up, you reach out and grab his hand. “Eddie?” 
“Yeah?” He whispers, soft eyes looking over your tired face. 
“Could you-” you swallow the barrier in your throat in the form of nerves. “Will you stay with me? I don’t really want to be alone right now,” your voice barely above a whisper. 
Eddie smiles softly, his thumb brushing along your knuckles, “yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” He lets go of your hand so you can move over to give him some room to lay down beside you. The moment his back touches the bed, you curl up to him, resting your head on his chest. A contented sigh sounding off listening to his heartbeat in your ear, along with a dopey smile on your face. “Better?” He teases, though his arms wrap around you, one hand rubbing your back while the other plays with your hair. 
“Thank you,” you mumble, already falling asleep. 
Controlling your emotions seems to get harder and harder the longer this plays out. Having Eddie back in your life is honestly the best thing that’s ever happened to you. And you couldn’t be more grateful for him. Not just for having him as your best friend again. But over the last month and half, your heart thought it would be a really good idea to evacuate your chest and take home inside his. Graduation was supposed to be the light at the end of the tunnel. Now it just seems like an ominous deadline.
The day you lose Eddie. 
You’re far from ready for that. In fact, being with Eddie, actually being with Eddie, doesn’t seem like all that bad of an idea. But this was supposed to be temporary, even for him. How in the hell are you supposed to propose that? It’s not like Eddie has shown you any hint that he’d want this to be anything but an act. At home, he’s just your friend. Aside from getting high together, he sleeps on the couch so that you can have the bed. 
What you should be focusing on is the book in your hands while the group plays through their session. But your eyes keep trailing back to the head of the table. Eddie, Dungeon Master himself, sitting on his throne while having the time of his life. He truly is a novelty to watch like this. Carefree and enjoying himself. It’s amazing. 
“NO!” Dustin yells, startling Pet Semetery right out of your hands. 
Usually you’re better at not jumping from their antics, but the teen does not sound happy. Meanwhile Eddie is cackling and knocks a piece off the board. Flicking your eyes around the table, you notice it was the last piece standing aside from the one indicating the monster the group had been fighting. They lost. 
“Another ruthless, unbeatable campaign?” You muse, looking at your thrilled ‘boyfriend’ while everyone gathers their things to leave.
“Always, princess,” Eddie bounds over to you, leaning on the armrests of your chair, “always.” The doors close, leaving you two alone. “Don’t act like you didn’t help.” 
Narrowing your eyes playfully, you look up at him, “yeah, I thought they’d at least have a chance though.” 
“You’re far too devious for anyone to stand a chance,” Eddie closes the distance and kisses you. 
Instinct and pure want for him, you kiss back for a moment. Pulling away with immense effort, speaking with a small voice, “no one’s here, Eds,” you whisper. “You don’t have to act like you want to kiss me,” you say, trying to gauge how he might feel about the situation. He just kissed you after you both heard the doors close. But you also don’t want to get your hopes up too high either. That there could be a reality where Eddie wants to be with you for real too. 
“Yeah,” he clears his throat, his face unreadable, “you’re right. Sorry,” he clears his throat again, “let’s go home.” 
When you grab your book and stand up, Eddie heads for the door, keeping a step or two of distance between you. Is this just how he would act if you guys weren’t pretending to be together? Because when you’re alone, he’s not this cold. Silent. Or did what you say upset him?
Even when you make it to his van and he opens the door for you and you mutter, “thanks,” all Eddie does is offer a pinched smile. 
His silence continues the entire drive home. Eddie doesn’t even sing along to the music he plays. Nor does he drum his hands on the steering wheel. It’s putting you on edge and you want to say something so badly. But you also don’t want to risk actually pissing him off either. So, you follow his lead. Not saying a word while he drives you both home. 
Things don’t get much brighter from then on either. Eddie follows you into the bedroom, grabs his acoustic guitar, and goes right back into the living room. You are absolutely not going to sit in bed and cry about change in behavior. Not at all. You’re going to do it in the shower so there’s no chance of Eddie hearing you, like a smart person. 
Smart, right. 
If you were so smart you’d tell Eddie how you really feel. 
“Are you coming to band practice today?” Eddie asks you while you’re putting some mascara on in the bathroom. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” he scratches the back of his head, “the guys do love it when you come though.” 
“Just the guys?” The teased question spills from your lips before you’d even had a chance to filter them out. But it’s out in the air now.
Eddie grins for the smallest of seconds, “I like when you watch us too. You actually give us honest opinions. Will you come?” 
“Can you give me two more minutes?” You ask, waving the mascara brush around, “I’m almost done.” 
“Take your time,” he smiles, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder, “I’ll be out in the van.” 
Quickly, you finish your makeup and go back into the room to get your shoes on. Not wanting to wear a bra, you find one of Eddie’s hoodies and throw it on over your thin shirt. You’ve never seen him wear it, but his spicy cologne rests on the fabric. You allow yourself a moment to bring to sleeves that barely let your fingers peek out of it to your nose to breathe him in. The cologne, the smoke, the very essence of Eddie. Pretending that his arms are wrapped around you instead of his clothes. 
Not wanting to take too long, you snatch the book off the bed and run out the trailer to meet Eddie in the van. 
You sit through the covers of Iron Maiden and Motley Crue while you read your book. They’re actually really good and you do enjoy listening to them. It’s always nice to see Eddie in his element. Happy and perfectly himself. It isn’t until he mentions something about playing a new one that you start to pay attention a little more. It’s different from what they usually play, and has to be an original because you don’t recognize it either and can’t imagine any other voice than Eddie’s singing it. 
Then the chorus hits, and they have your full attention.
“So if you wanna piss off your parents, date me to scare them, show them you’re all grown up,” Eddie sings, his words the night you ran to him echoing in your head alongside the lyrics. “If long hair and tattoos are what attract you, baby, then you’re in luck.” 
Eddie wrote a song about you. Eddie wrote a fucking song about you! But your eyebrows furrow, because it doesn’t sound all that nice, to be honest. Like he’s letting his frustration out through it. You told him you didn’t care about what your parents thought, assuming that was just the incentive for him going through with this.
“You know, I’m broke, so you pulled out your Daddy’s card,” he continues with the song. The memory of you two grocery shopping together flickering in your brain. 
You had wanted to make dinner for him one night as a thank you, but couldn’t find much in his kitchen. He’d told you Wayne didn’t get paid until the weekend and that all his money from dealing went to take out. You promptly dragged him to the store and bought enough food to stock the entire kitchen. Yes, you even made sure he- and you when you chose to partake- had plenty of munchies around too. 
“Should’ve seen this coming from a mile away,” Eddie hasn’t looked at you once the entire time he sings. The rest of the guys just seem to be jamming out. Except Gareth, his face starts to twist, something mixed with confusion and understanding, his drumsticks almost falter. “I’ll play your game. I know what you want from me.” 
But this- this isn’t a game to you. Eddie isn’t a game to you. In its bones, it’s a great song. But your eyes are burning. Blurring with tears as the song goes on. Every lyric a knife to your heart. 
“And I know it’s just a phase, you’re not in love with me,” Eddie finally looks at you as a tear falls from your eye. You quickly wipe it away, seeing the same pain reflected in his big, brown eyes. “And I know it’s just a phase, you’re not in love with me. You wanna piss off your parents, baby. Piss off your parents, that’s alright with me.” 
The song ends and you hastily wipe the rest of your tears away, ducking your head back into your book so the rest of the guys don’t notice them. It’s bad enough that Eddie saw them. You knew you should’ve said something to him last night when he kissed you. You fucking knew it. And now you’ve hurt him. Hurt Eddie enough that he wrote a song to express himself. You feel like the biggest jerk there is. 
Something told you that you needed to drive yourself to school today. Eddie didn’t question it. You guys had another silent night at home. Didn’t talk about the song or confess your love to him. But you did decide that you will be doing that today. You just needed to have a moment to sort the words in your head into cohesive sentences. 
Then lunch rolled around and Eddie mentioned he’d be meeting Jason in the woods after school to sell to him. That sounded really fucking weird to you, he just waved off your concerns. But you also heard about Chrissy buying from Eddie too, so you didn’t think anything of it if he didn’t either. It wasn’t until you were walking to your last class that you happened to pass Jason in the halls talking to his friends about how they were going to jump Eddie when they met up that it all made sense. 
Why you wanted to bring your car. Why the whole concept of Jason buying drugs didn’t sit right with you. You skipped your last class to wait near the spot they’d meet. Your baseball bat sitting in your passenger seat. You’re not about to just let Jason hurt Eddie. But you’re also not an idiot. You watch from your hiding spot while Eddie sits on the bench waiting for the unknown threat to show up. 
He can take care of himself against Jason, that’s been proven. But you don’t want to see what would happen if it was three or more guys. When Jason first shows up with three other guys whose names you could care less to remember, your nerves light up. Eddie’s too because he rises from the picnic bench with his arms raised. Grabbing your bat, you get out of the car, careful to stay out of view. 
Inching closer, Jason’s voice finally makes it through, “she’d never actually want to be with a freak like you. No way. She wants to be with me, just like her parents want her to. Maybe if you let her go, we won’t hurt you.” 
Yeah, fuck that. Clenching your hand around the bat, you step into view, “back off, Carver,” you command. Swaying the wood back and forth. “I warned you once already.” 
“Princess,” Eddie warns, but you don’t want to hear it. He might have pieced together why Jason is here, but you’re not backing down. Never again. Not since the moment you stepped foot in his trailer what feels like ages ago.
“Can’t you see he’s corrupting you? Just come with me so that I can take care of you,” Jason yells back, looking honest to god perplexed. “This isn’t you. He’s messing with your head.” 
“He’s letting me live!” You shout, tired of everyone trying to tell you what’s best for you. Like you’re incapable of figuring that out for yourself. One thing’s for certain, it isn’t fucking Jason. And it isn’t your fucking parents either. “He takes care of me better than anyone else ever has! Eddie makes me happy!” 
“Aww, princess,” Eddie coos softly, making your heart swell. 
“Don’t make me say it again, Carver,” you swing the back at your side again.
“Grab him!” Jason snaps and two of the guys grab each of Eddie’s arms, pinning them behind his back. You hadn’t even noticed they were getting closer to him, you were so focused on making sure Jason didn’t do something stupid. Eddie struggles in their grip, loosening their hold, only to be forced still. 
Looks like Jason did do something stupid afterall. “I warned you, Jason,” you spit, swinging the bat, hitting him in the face with a satisfying thwack. He stumbles to the dirt, clutching his split, bleeding cheek. The remaining jock, not holding Eddie, helps Jason to his feet. Whipping your head to the others, “let. Him. Go,” you growl while Eddie stares at you with literal heart eyes. The boys keep their hold, flicking their gaze to their captain who's whining. Good. “Fine,” you huff, swinging the bat again, connecting with one of their legs. 
Eddie stumbles as they release him, the one you’d hit falling to the forest floor, yelling in pain. His partner in crime helps him up and you aim your bat again, a crystal clear warning. One that even Jason pays attention to and all four jocks limp away. Once they’re out of view, the bat thumps to the ground and you face Eddie. 
“Are you crazy?” He asks, pulling you close, staring in your eyes waiting for an answer.
“Don’t ever tell me again that I don’t love you, Eddie Munson, do you understand me,” you rush out, crashing your lips to his. A soft moan combined with an absolute sigh of relief pushes past your lips when he holds you tighter, pulls you even closer, and returns the kiss. 
“Why would you do that?” He breaks the kiss, holding you by the small of your back. “Where did you even get a bat from?” 
“That dick led you out here just to jump you. I heard him in the halls. I wasn’t going to just let him,” you roll your eyes, brushing his bangs from his eyes. “I told you it felt weird.” 
“And the bat?” Eddie repeats, looking where it's laying on the ground. 
“I’m a girl in a small town,” you state like it should be obvious. “It’s called self defense.” 
He snorts, “hot.” You playfully punch his chest, making him laugh. He quickly grabs your hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss our knuckles. “So, I make you happy, huh?” Eddie grins slyly, cocking an eyebrow at you. 
“Very,” you smile back, leaning in to kiss him again. Hard. Pressing into him until he’s backed against a tree, groaning into your mouth. “I’ve been wanting to tell you for weeks,” you admit, pulling at his bottom lip with your teeth. Lovingly swiping it with your tongue at his hiss from the action. 
Suddenly your back is against the tree and Eddie’s hips are digging into yours, the bulge in his jeans leaving nothing to the imagination as to whether or not he’s believing and enjoying your words. “I told you I wanted to marry you when we were kids,” he rasps in the small space between your mouths. “You coming to me soaked and asking for help, even as a ploy I’d accept it if it meant you being in my life again. I never stopped wanting you, princess. Ever.” 
“Good,” you reply, claiming his mouth again, Eddie’s hands gripping your hips. You moan when he kisses down your neck, biting at the crook and your eyes roll back. “Eddie,” you whine, trying to spread your legs for more friction. He shifts, his thigh pressing between your legs, rubbing beautifully against your clothed pussy. It’s not enough and you whine again, “Eddie, please.” Every pent up feeling you’ve had for the last month ready to burst at the seams. 
He chuckles against what’s surely a purple mark on your neck, “right here?” Eddie teases, licking your abused flesh, nipping his way back up. “Can’t let me take you home first?”
“No,” you say once his blown, brown eyes fall on your face, “I can’t. I need you, Eddie, please,” you gasp. Breathing becomes harder the longer his thigh digs into you, sparking flames deep in your core. 
“Right here in the woods, huh?” He asks, a shit eating grin plastered on his face. “Maybe Jason was right,” Eddie chuckles, cupping you where it aches, “maybe I did corrupt you.” 
“Good,” you moan, grinding against his hand, “I’m yours to corrupt, Eddie.”
Eddie’s eyes darken further, pupils widening and getting hazy, “that’s my girl.” His fingers undo your button and zipper before yanking you to him, pulling you back towards the picnic table. Pushing you down face first onto the wooden surface, he drags your pants and underwear down in one swift motion. “Look at you,” he tries to coo, but it’s so full of lust that it’s raspy and thick, “so wet for me already, princess.” Eddie kisses your spine, making you shiver, “last chance,” his hands rub your ass. 
“Please,” you croak, eyes burning, needing him inside of you right now. Groaning a guttural, “fuck,” when his tongue dips inside your dripping cunt. “Eddie,” you gasp, him eating you out better than you’ve ever felt before. The long licks and the way he pushes his tongue as far as it will go to tease at your clit. It’s intoxicating and before you can beg for more, two fingers push inside you and you keen. Hips bucking at the pressure against the bundle of nerves deep inside. 
Your moans turn to a mewl, Eddie nipping at the back of your thighs, his hand cracking over your ass. The sting shoots white hot jolts of electricity through you, an orgasm beginning to warm you from the inside out at a startling rate. Kissing your ass, you feel Eddie smile, “you taste so fucking good princess. So fucking good. God,” he groans, “and you’re all fucking mine. Aren’t you?” His fingers move faster and all you can do is moan and nod, thighs shaking with the need to come. “Aren’t you?” Eddie repeats with another slap to your ass, wanting an actual answer. 
Like he isn’t taking away your ability to form proper thoughts let alone understandable words. Huffing your breath, trying desperately to speak, “y-yes, yours,” your gasp, his tongue joining his fingers, flying you over the edge. Wave after beautiful wave slamming into you in quick succession. Had Eddie not had his fingers inside of you, you’d have slumped right off the table. “I’m yours, Eddie,” you groan when he removes his fingers, half hearing him undo his own belt and the slide of his pants. 
“Good girl,” he soothes the spot he’d smacked with loving strokes of his palm, spitting into his other hand. A whine escapes your lips feeling the head of his cock glide against your pussy. “Ready, princess?” Eddie asks, tapping your cunt with his dick. You think you say yes, you’re almost certain the word came out of your mouth. All you really care about is that Eddie heard your consent and his dick slams into you completely. “Fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” 
A groan shifts to a whine when he slowly drags himself out of you to the tip, sliding back at the same pace. “Eddie,” you whine again, trying to push your hips back to make him move faster. The heat in your core burns at a dizzying rate from the surprising intensity of the leisurely roll of his hips. But his grip on you is sure, you’re completely at his mercy.
“Look at that,” he gasps out, doing it over and over. You can only imagine that he’s just watching himself disappear inside of you and enjoying it immensely. “So pretty,” Eddie moans, thrusting harder, but only just. Still pulling out till just the tip of his cock is left inside you and ramming himself forward. The pace punches moans from your chest and has your eyes roll back with every deliberate jab to that sweet spot. 
“Ed- fuck!” You cry out, his control of teasing you or keeping up with his own pleasure snaps along with his hips. Eddie holds your hips hard and rails into you harder. Thrusting with abandon and the coil inside of you winds tightly. Threatening to break at any given moment. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you moan repeatedly, eyes blurring with lust. 
Eddie fists his hand in the back of your hair, yanking you up to his chest, “that’s right, let it all out, princess.” He wraps a hand around your middle, trailing his fingers down to circle around your clit. “I wanna hear how good I make you feel,” Eddie bites at your neck, sucking what has to be a constellation of marks on your skin, his thrusts not once faltering. “Come for me, pretty girl.” 
His words, his hands, his cock, him. Eddie flies you right over the edge of your orgasm. The coil snapping so hard you feel your pussy spasm around him and do something it’s never done before, even when you’ve played with yourself. You cry out, screaming a moaned, “Eddie,” as your cunt gushes around him. A tear falls from your eye, overwhelmed with sensation but Eddie holds you close, keeping you grounded with an orgasm infused smile on your face. 
He doesn’t gentle you through it, his fingers never ceasing their toying with your clit, “you’re gonna come for me again,” Eddie moans in your ear. You’re nearly overstimulated, but oh so addicted to the feeling of his dick inside of you that you couldn’t care less. You’d come as many times as he’d get you to. “Then I’m gonna come inside my pussy, understand?” 
“Please, please Eddie, fuck,” you moan, your cunt clenching around him with a vice grip. You want to meet his thrusts, but you’re too lost in the perfect pace he’s set that you hadn’t even noticed the all too familiar tingle creeping up on you. Thighs shaking, you hold his arm, the hand in your hair snaking around to a light hold on your throat. Another grunted moan in your ear from Eddie is all it took for you to fall apart again. A breathless scream as your pussy squirts around his cock once more. 
“That’s my girl,” Eddie’s grip tightens around your throat. His fingers finally leave your sensitive clit alone to hold you steady, thrusting a few more times until he shoves himself inside. Eddie lets out a moan, spilling himself deep inside, warming you from the inside out. “Fucking hell, I love you,” he pants, peppering your neck with sweet kisses. He carefully helps you back onto the table top, your hands propping you because your legs are far from stable. 
Your mind is blissfully quiet, only caring about being in the moment with Eddie. You’ll deal with the thought of doing this in the middle of the woods later. Right now, you just want him. Eddie pulls out from your sore pussy as gently as he can and gingerly pulls your pants back up. Kind of pointless considering they’re pretty much instantly soaked from his come leaking out of you. But that’s okay too, you like the feeling. You turn to face him, finding he’s already got his pants pulled up too. 
Reaching out to hug him, Eddie does you one better, scooping you up into his arms in a bridal carry. “You okay, princess?” He asks, kissing the top of your head when you tuck into his neck. 
“I’m okay. Some water would be great right now though,” you mumble, the pure scent of Eddie mixing with the woods around you is better than any aromatherapy out there. “And food. God, and a bath.” 
Eddie chuckles, bending to grab your bat from the ground, “good thing I have a cooler and some snacks in the van. Think that’ll be enough till we get home and I can make you something?” 
“‘S perfect, Eds,” you smile against his skin, curling your fingers in the ends of his hair as he carries you to his van. “Will my car be okay?” 
“I’ll have Gareth or Jeff come get it for you.” Eddie stops in his tracks, “uh,” he chuckles. “Do we need to stop at the pharmacy?” 
Lifting your tired head, you ask, ”why,” heavy lidded eyes barely focusing on him. 
“We didn’t use a condom,” he states, “and I definitely didn’t pull out.” 
You laugh, thumping your head back into his neck, “Eddie, my parents controlled every aspect of my life, you really think they wouldn’t put me on the pill?” You resume playing with his hair and he begins walking again. “I would’ve stopped you otherwise,” tugging his hair lightly you giggle, “it’s more than okay, Eddie. Just get me home so we can eat and take a bath together.”
“Coming right up, princess,” his smile is evident in his tone and he kisses your hair again. 
Part 2
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apomaro-mellow · 4 months
Text
Every Baby Needs a Daddy 8
Part 7
The rest of the band had gotten over their shock of the news of Eddie's sudden rut and were having a conversation about sewing or something but Steve was deep in thought.
"I'm telling you, it's both calming and not calming", Jeff said as they walked out of the venue.
Gareth adjusted his jacket. "You get all that from quilting?"
"You remember your dice obsession way back when?"
"Dude, that's all I remember from junior year."
"You guys aren't worried about Eddie?", Steve asked, interjecting.
"Why would we be worried?", Gareth asked.
"He just-", Steve paused when a couple of fans caught them between the sidewalk and the car taking them back to the hotel. It didn't seem prudent for anyone to know why Eddie would be indisposed right now. But he continued when the fans got their autographs and left. "He just went into rut without any warning."
"Yeah, but he's a grown man", Jeff said. "He can handle it."
'Handle it'. How alphas usually handled it was all Steve could think about on the way back to the hotel. Alphas of his previous tax bracket would usually have a designated partner. Whether that was someone they were married to, were promised to, or just someone they had an agreement with, it was odd for an alpha of means to spend a rut alone. So did Eddie already have someone like that?
Was that why he pushed Steve away and took off? So that he could go to them? The initial twinge of heartbreak and rejection was quickly replaced with anger. Who the hell had stolen his alpha away?
"Uhh, is Steve okay?", Grant asked, picking up on the bothered scent he was putting out.
"I need to talk to Eddie", Steve said, arms crossed.
"Chrissy's already with him in his room. She's probably making sure he's all set up", Jeff said.
Chrissy. Corroded Coffin's manager. Completely professional. But also...she was an omega...One that had known Eddie for a long time. When the car parked, Steve got out, forging ahead to the suite he and Eddie were sharing.
"Steve? Steve! We're telling you man, it's gonna be okay", Jeff tried to reassure him.
"And no one's gonna blame you", Gareth added.
That got Steve to stop in his tracks just as he was about to press the button for the elevators. "What do you mean blame me? For what?"
All three of them looked anywhere but him. Steve put his hands on his hips, not allowing them to get out of answering his question. Jeff was the one that broke.
"His rut, Steve. I think it's pretty obvious it only happened because... well, you and he, you know..."
Yes, Steve did know. It didn't take a genius to figure it out. Decades of science had proven that in certain conditions, this situation could happen. He let out a puff of laughter and ran his hands through his hair.
Honestly, if you had asked him, Steve would’ve figured that Eddie would have triggered his heat first. He’d heard the stories of having your hormones knocked out of whack by an alpha and having an off-cycle heat. So having to deal with his rut out of the blue was definitely a surprise.
Looking back on the past twenty four hours, anyone from the outside would have thought that Steve had been purposely trying to start it. But his sweet, sweet alpha and treated the situation like he was inconveniencing Steve. He had pushed Steve away, probably for his own good.
When he allowed himself to calm down and think about it, the idea that Eddie was getting his rocks off to someone else right now was just unbelievable. They had agreed. Exclusive. Which meant Eddie intended to ride this out alone.
“You don’t have to worry about Eddie”, Gareth said. “You can bunk with one of us while we wait for it to pass.”
“I’m not going to leave him”, Steve said quickly.
He pushed the elevator button and when the doors opened, he went inside. Grant and the others followed him. They stood behind Steve, trying to have a silent conversation on how to proceed.
"I can hear you guys bugging out", Steve said without turning. "It'll be fine." It wasn't even a matter of choice. His alpha needed him.
When the doors opened, he led the brigade and took his key card out. Inside, Chrissy was ending a call and Eddie was nowhere to be seen. She frowned a little at Steve.
"You shouldn't be here."
"I'm here to help Eddie", Steve said.
She looked disappointed at the band behind him, as if they were supposed to keep him away before giving Steve her attention again.
"Look, Steve, I know you're nice. But it's a liability thing. You could get hurt and Eddie's a public figure. Or maybe you'll use this to baby trap him, I don't know. But I can't let you use my friend that way."
Steve let out a hiss at the accusation. He had to remind himself and his omega that Eddie wasn't actually his alpha, that they weren't mated. She was completely in her rights as a friend and manager to protect her friend.
"Eddie won't hurt me. Chrissy, you know that stereotype about alphas during rut is nothing but BS. And I'm on birth control, so no pups are coming out of me any time soon."
"Baby, Chrissy", Eddie called out as he came out of the bedroom.
Steve ran up to him but Eddie grabbed his hands, keeping him at arms length. Steve frowned, but understood. They never really discussed what to do if one of them went into their cycles. But Eddie was still of a clear mind. They had time to discuss it now.
"Do you trust him?", Chrissy asked.
"With my signed copy of Lord of the Rings", Eddie smiled.
Steve's brow rose. "By Tolkien?"
"No, by McKellen. Which is better. The thing is, I don't trust myself around you while I'm like this."
Steve pouted a bit and let go of Eddie's hands, turning back to the rest of the group. "Do you mind giving us some privacy? I promise, if he turns me away, I'll come to one of your rooms."
"Text me before you guys get too....you know...", Chrissy said. "We can make accommodations."
"Will do", Steve said as he walked over to the couch while they left him and Eddie alone. Once they were, Steve patted the space next to him. Eddie came over, but only sat on the far opposite side.
“Angel, you shouldn’t be here. I’m not safe.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Eddie, you’re a pre-rut alpha. Not an insatiable lust monster.”
“But we never talked about this…you doing this for me, being my-m-my-”
“Shh”, Steve put a finger to his lips. “You’ve been taking such good care of me. I just wanna return the favor.” Then he let out an exaggerated sigh and turned away, standing up “But if you don’t want me here-”
He heard a loud thump that was probably the from Eddie rushing and falling off the couch to stop him. He felt Eddie hug him from behind, gentle, like he was afraid of breaking him.
"I want to. Christ alive, I want to. But I...what if I'm too much? What if I cross the line?"
Steve turned in his arms and kissed his nose. "Then we need to draw a line in the sand first."
Eddie nodded. "Okay. Okay, I can do that." His hands were already toeing the line, inching under Steve's shirt. "Maybe we have this conversation with some space between us?"
Steve conceded to that. He didn't want to get distracted either. So they sat back down on the couch, apart but not too far apart.
"Sooo, what am I allowed to do?", Eddie asked.
"Anything", Steve breathed out before composing himself. Eddie's scent was getting stronger but he had to not think with his pussy for once. "I mean, just what we've done before. All of that is fine."
"What if I wanna bite you?", Eddie swallowed.
"You know you're allowed to do that", Steve smirked. He was still sporting some of the marks from earlier.
"Even if I wanted to...", Eddie's eyes went to his neck. "Once I'm in rut, I'll really want it. I'll wanna make you mine. In any way I can."
'Don't think with your cunt, don't think with your cunt. Make a rational decision-god our babies would be so beautiful-but we're not ready to be mated-he's such a good alpha, perfect alpha, could raise our pups good, keep them safe and-'
"We can, um", Steve cleared his throat and looked around for something. He got up, just to get some space and also think of something that would keep him from getting a mating bite tonight even though that was all he wanted. He saw something on the bed and went right for it.
"Perfect!", he exclaimed, returning with the black bandana Eddie had been wearing during the concert. It was saturated with his scent. Steve folded it to a rectangular band and then tied it around his neck. "This is off limits", he said. "And your alpha brain won't fight because-"
"Because it already smells like you're mine. Sweet thing, you're a genius", Eddie beamed. He got off the couch and pulled Steve in his arms, kissing him sweetly. He took in a deep breath and released a full body shudder. "It's working already."
"Oh yeah?", Steve couldn't help looking smug.
"Mhm. It's like you've already got my bite." Eddie started to kiss at his jaw. "And it's making me wonder why I haven't got you pupped up yet."
Steve could've swooned but he had to keep his wits about him for as long as he could. "There's one more thing."
"Hm?", Eddie looked up, his eyes were already starting to get the moony look.
"You're not going to be entirely yourself. I know that. So like I said, I'm gonna take care of you. That means you listen to me. I'm in charge, okay?"
Eddie nodded rapidly. "You're in charge. Got it."
"Good alpha", Steve stroked his hair. With any luck, the tour schedule wouldn't be messed up too badly. Alpha ruts typically lasted around 3-5 days. It would've been longer if he had to go solo. There was the idea still being passed around that an alpha's rut would end when they were convinced their partner had conceived, but Steve wasn't sure how he was supposed to trick Eddie's alpha into thinking that.
But the important part was that they'd decided what to do and Steve was taking him to bed.
"You know, the guys think that I triggered your rut", Steve said.
"And don't you look proud", Eddie grinned, lying in bed next to him. He frowned and sniffed at the comforter. "Doesn't smell right. Doesn't smell like us."
Us. Steve felt himself get wet. Well, wetter. He was going to be Eddie's omega. At least while his rut was going on.
"Do you know what I was thinking, while I was watching you on stage earlier?", Steve asked.
Eddie swallowed and shook his head. Steve pushed him onto his back and sat on his lap. Eddie looked perfect under him and between his legs like this.
"I was thinking about how sexy you looked. How everybody couldn't take their eyes off you, but you were only looking at me." Steve started a slow grind and watched as Eddie's eyes darkened. "And how I wanted to ride you all night long."
Part 9
Tag Team
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rosewaterandivy · 10 days
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tightrope across the table
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Summary: Abandoned at the bar and left to your own devices, what's the worst that could happen?
Pairing: e.m. x fem! reader
WC: 1.4k
Warnings: NSFW 18+, drinking, cursing, & the perils of dating in the 21st century
A/N: For my beloved Luna, @abibliophobiaa - I love you and I hope this brings a smile to your beautiful face! Reblogs, likes & feedback are appreciated - reposting is not. Enjoy! 💜
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What had begun as a promising New Year's Eve out with your best girl was quickly devolving. Nursing your now lukewarm beer, you watched as your friend laughed with the latest acquisition to her horde. She really was the worst kind of fag hag. Sipping the last dregs of beer from the glass, you tap through your phone and open the app that’s been taunting you all evening.
It’s not that you enjoyed being on the apps, because who in their right mind would? It was, unfortunately, a necessity now because meeting someone at a bookstore or your local coffee joint just didn’t happen anymore, not with everyone’s nose buried in their phone.
Much like yours was now.
The messages were the exact same as the last time you’d checked— nothing new. You sighed and tried to push back the swell of disappointment. This guy you’d been chatting with seemed decent but not eager to continue the line of conversation. You forced yourself to close out of the app, but before you could, a notification popped up: ‘New Message.’
Looking around to see where your friend had gotten to, you let out a sigh of relief finding her at the bar ordering another round. She sends you a wink and mouths something unintelligible. You shrug back with a smile and glace back down to your phone.
Not to be *that guy* but you wouldn’t happen to be at the bar right now, would you?
Heart kicking up and pulse racing, you calmly scan the immediate area trying not to draw attention to yourself. Finding nothing of concern, you prop your elbow on the table and hold the phone aloft in an attempt to stay alert to your surroundings.
Meant that in a totally not creepy way, fyi!
Despite yourself, you were smiling. You’d had a few conversations with this guy before and always found yourself grinning and laughing in equal measure. It was you who’d initially asked him to a movie a week or so ago, deeming the chemistry enough to warrant an in-person meeting. But he’d regretfully had to decline because of work or some other bullshit excuse, you couldn’t recall.
Things had understandably cooled off since then.
It wasn’t as if he’d stood you up or anything, he’d given ample notice, but it hurt all the same. And there was no shortage of hurt in your life at present.
If it wasn’t an engagement or bachelorette party, it was a wedding or christening. All your friends had apparently gotten the memo and paired up accordingly, while your invite to the Grown-Ups party was apparently lost in the mail. 
Why is it that they were all married or already parents and you couldn’t even get a second date? Was something wrong with you? How had you become the designated single friend?
You were happy for your friends, of course you were, it’s exciting moving through the high points of life! But you could still be overjoyed for them and throw a pity party for yourself, the two weren’t mutually exclusive. And sure, people tried to get you out of the house with trivia nights and dinner dates with the girls but it inevitably wound up with them talking about their spouses or babies, cooing over pictures as phones were passed around.
And sure, they celebrated your milestones too. But was a graduate degree going to keep you warm at night? Was a promotion going to cuddle with you on the couch as you fell asleep to Gilmore Girls for the millionth time?
But things were fine, things were good even, if you could just forget the apps and failed first dates. Besides, you had your Emily Henry books and pints of Ben & Jerry’s— things could be worse.
Okay, so I def creeped you out. Just gonna go back to my cave, pls forget this ever happened.
He then sends a gif of Harry from Harry and the Hendersons sadly sulking off. Again, you find yourself smiling.
Mayybeeee a little creeped. You type back, Just caught me off guard is all.
There’s a minute or two before he responds.
You sure? I can totally fuck off, just say the word.
Crossing your feet beneath your chair, you weigh your options. It was you who asked him out after all, so clearly some part of you was interested. And he’s still talking to you now, even while he’s apparently out at a bar.
Potentially the same bar you’re at now…
Okay, fuck it.
After sending a quick text to your friend explaining the situation and asking her to standby, you toss your hair behind your shoulder and take another look around. 
The bar is pretty packed, the weather is decent so the picnic tables outside are quickly filling up too. It’s loud but not deafening and from your current location, you’re within sight of the door for a getaway if needed.
You hoped you wouldn’t need it.
Sparkly boots.
And with that, you lock your phone and set it to the side. You figure, if this guy is worth his salt he’ll figure it out and find you. If not, oh well, at least you tried. 
The waiting is torturous. Minutes trickle by and you’re about to pack it in for the night when there’s the jangle of a chain against the metal chair and a man swathed in black denim and leather all but pours himself into it. 
“Fucking christ, d’you know how many people are wearing boots tonight?”
For a moment there, you’re speechless— eyes wide and pretty lips opening to say:
“Okay, but how many were wearing sparkly boots.”
His lips, pink and full, pull into a winning smile. 
“Just you sugar, but I think you already knew that.” He leans back in the chair, fingers locked behind his head as he stretches back. 
His shirt rides up, exposing a sliver of skin at his hip. You try not to lick your lips.
“I’m Eddie, by the way,” He says offering you his hand to shake, fingers bejeweled with silver rings.
He’s warm to the touch as you palm slots against his. His lips part to in a soft gasp as your thumb grazes a knuckle and shake his hand, introducing yourself. His brown eyes flit from your hand to your face and back again, as if he can hardly believe you’re real.
Reluctantly, you pull your hand from his grasp. 
His fingers trail after yours, drumming along the tabletop. Your hand rests mere inches from his, close enough to reach out and touch. 
You cock your head to the side assessing him. Eddie’s not all that different from his pictures on the app— scruffy in that attractive masculine way. Long hair pulled back at the nape of his neck, a few errant curls falling to frame his face. 
A vibration to your left breaks the moment.
You mutter an apology and check to your messages:
How we feelin?
This from your friend by the bar who's standing steadfast with her retinue, keys swinging from her fingers if you need her.
Another swoosh sound signalling a response. You glance down once more, this time it’s a photo of you and Eddie taken just after his arrival. You’re looking down, lips rolled between your teeth even though it’s clear as day you’d rather be smiling and he’s looking at you like… Well, like you hung the moon.
“So, uh,” He ducks his head to cough and clear his throat. “Have I passed the test?”
“What’s that?”
“Y’know, the test verifying that I’m not gonna abscond with you to an undisclosed location or whatever.”
“How did you—”
“Your friend’s not very subtle.” He nods in her direction and follows it up with a wave.
“Well, Edward, if you must know—”
“It’s Eddie.”
“Shut up, you know it all!”
His laugh and your retort takes him by surprise, it’s loud and probably the best thing you’ve ever heard.
“As I was saying, that all depends.”
Eddie leans across the table, all loose limbs and big doe eyes. 
“Depends on what, sugar?”
You give a subtle nod to your friend at the bar who flags down the bartender and places an order.
“If you’ll let me buy you a drink.”
He smiles and the rest of the world could drop dead for all you care. For a night that was beginning to look a bit disastrous, with the arrival of Eddie it was starting to have some possibilities.
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voxmortuus · 10 months
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✧*̥˚ PAIRING: *̥˚✧ Yandere!Count Vronsky x F!Reader!Wife ✧*̥˚ UNIVERSE: *̥˚✧ Anna Karenina ✧*̥˚ WORD COUNT: *̥˚✧ 3.6k ✧*̥˚ PROMPT: *̥˚✧ This was given to me by the lovely @bettytaylorversion || Okay, okay I'm lately obsessed with yandere Count Vronsky, so how about yan Vronsky suspecting that his wife is seeing someone or like in love with someone and it doesn't help when his mother keeps feeding his suspicions so he ends up locking the wife/reader up in their house in countryside/ another country house where no one can reach them and where he makes sure his beloved wife knows exactly how much he loves her. ✧*̥˚ TRIGGER WARNINGS: *̥˚✧ Dead Dove Do Not Eat | Yandere Count | Possessive Count | Aggressive Count | Stalker Count | Demanding Count | Accusations of Cheating | Toxic Mother | False ideas | False Suspicions from mother | Toxic Marriage? | Isolation of Reader | Slapping | Pushing or Shoving | Yelling | Slamming doors | Gripping readers throat | Passionate making out | Throwing reader on bed | Stripping reader | Unprotected PiV | Aggressive sex | Reader fights a bit but stops fighting | Dub-Con? | insinuated Cream Pie | Crying Reader | Fluff | Reader questions if she loves him at the end | Relationship conflictions | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ✧*̥˚ NOTES: *̥˚✧ I've been wanting to write for him for a long while! Thank you love for this request! I hope this is along the lines of what you were hoping for... Sorry if it doesn't hit exactly what you're looking for but I tried!!! Anywho.... I hope this brings you some joy. ✧*̥˚ DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @nyxvuxoa ✧*̥˚ TIME PASSER DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @voxmortuus ✧*̥˚ IMAGE CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @peachyspaceslvt ✧*̥˚ ATJ TAGLIST: *̥˚✧ @earth-elemental18 @nyxvuxoa-writes ✧*̥˚ My Master Masterlist | Aaron Taylor-Johnson Masterlist *̥˚✧
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It was this gnawing feeling, this feeling of dread, sorrow, a pain in his gut he couldn't shake. Watching you go as he leaned against the window frame, he knew where you were going. He knew, he just had this gut feeling that he couldn't quite shake. It ate at his heart, it ate at his brain, it was like these cogs and wheels working, but not in a way of rationality. His thoughts were completely irrational. Looking out that window as your carriage vanished into the thick fog of the dawn, he felt so lost, so angry. He wasn't happy, and not happy may be quite an understatement.
Placing a hand-rolled cigarette between his lips he grabbed a match from the fireplace and lit it. The smoke bellowed above, tossing the match into the fire he turned to see his mother sitting at the table.
"She does not have love for you anymore, Alexei." She stated. Her tone appeared caring, honest, maybe even having pity, but it was just because she didn't like you.
"She must love me. That is my wife, she must." He stated he didn't seem demanding about it, he seemed sad, heartbroken even.
"But she does not. She will never love you as she loves him. What married woman is happy with her husband? She has grown bored of you. Had she not she would not go to him as she does." She points out.
His heart, if it was a glass a cat had pushed off the counter it would have shattered. He only hoped that you were as enraptured by him as he was about you. He looked up at the wall, the painting of you seemed to be watching. He closed his stormy blue eyes and looked back at his mother.
"She does love me. I know it to be true. You speak lies, like a snake in the garden." He snapped and walked to the table and had taken a sip from the slightly sweetened tea he had poured only moments before your leaving. Sitting there he tapped his smoke against a small crystal ashtray and his mind became overrun, thinking of everything his mother had stated. Thinking of those possibilities. What were you doing? Were you spreading your legs for him? Was he satisfying you? Were you unhappy with him? Did you not love him? Did you grow bored of him? He rubbed his lip a moment as he took another drag before looking at his mother.
"When she comes home, I will settle this." He stated. Taking the cup and his almost-gone smoke and had vanished to the bedroom. He sits on the edge of the bed after putting the cup on the bedside table and looks over your side of the bed. It was too much, these feelings he had, it was like they were just bubbling up, ready to overflow and put out the fire that kept the pot lit. Feeling the stinging in his nose from the slight anger he ran his hand through his curly blonde locks and his jaw clenched as he put his smoke out in the ashtray and grabbed his clothes for getting dressed before he slammed the bedroom door.
His mother had heard the slam and had made her way to the room. Letting herself in she looked over him and sighed. "I just want what is best for you."
"I said I would take care of it. I do not need your help. She is my wife, not yours." He sort of snapped.
"You are right, she is your wife. And your wife is off with another man, spreading her legs and enjoying her time away from you. So how are you going to handle that Alexei?" She asked.
"I will take her away from here. I will take her far away from everyone. Including you." He snapped. "Now if you do not mind, I am getting dressed. Go find something else to bother." He snarled slightly as he escorted her out of the doorway and closed and locked the bedroom door.
Looking out the bedroom window and looking over the garden, he watched the flowers bob from the heaviness of the heads that were filled with the morning dew. It was something so simple, and yet even looking at their beauty, he saw you, he saw your smile, your smooth skin, your curves, he saw how your hair fell, that glow in your eyes when you were happy. You had to love him, why was he questioning it? Why was he standing there, looking out on those flowers questioning if you loved him?! With a clenched jaw and a knitted brow, he threw open the closet door and grabbed his attire for the day.
After fastening the last button on his coat, he makes his way back to the kitchen- it's like he doesn't want to acknowledge the other parts of the home without you here. Feeling lost, and one track minded. He didn't like that you were gone, it loomed over him like a dark cloud heavy with rain looms over the dirt countryside roads. He needed to know where you were going. He needed to know what you were doing. He needed to know what you were saying. Were you tired of him? Were you unhappy? It just gnawed at him like a beaver gnawing on a log.
Why was this even a feather of a thought? It's not that he didn't want you to have friends, it's just, why did they have to be male friends? And even then, it wasn't the idea of male friends that bothered him, it was the embedded, plated thoughts from the snake in the garden that made him believe that you were unhappy, that you were not in love with him any longer, that you were looking for a way out of this relationship. Well, that was going to be nipped in the bud right away. There was going to be no second-guessing it, not after this.
He decided to gather himself a little more and decided to head out to find you. He had these questions that needed answers. He turned to look at his mother who was still there. "Watch the house while I am away. We will be gone for a while." He states. His mother went to speak but before she could retort with a comment he was out the door and off to the stables.
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After a few hours of looking and getting a general idea of where you were he stopped, getting off the carriage he approached, standing a good distance behind as you stood there, talking to another man. Oh, this did not sit well with him, but he watched and observed. With a lick of his lips and a look of heartache, as you touched the other man's face, he couldn't help but feel that slithering snake of a mother of his was right.
The more he watched, the more you laughed, the closer this man seemed to be getting to you, and the more it climbed up him like ivy claiming lattice fencing. This green envious monster coils around his every nerve, his nostrils flair as he walks toward you and clears his throat, but you don't pay much attention until he grabs your arm and pulls you to him.
You gasp and look over his face. "My Love, what are you doing here?" You ask him.
"I could ask you the very same." He states. His stare was cold, his stare pained, and his stare… it bore into you like a hot glue gun into plastic.
"I am just out with a friend, we do this every week. It means nothing." You state honestly.
"Does it? Does it really mean nothing? You were touching his face, and laughing with him like you do with me. Do I not make you happy anymore? Have you grown bored and weary of me?" He asks you with a small shake in his voice almost as if holding back tears.
"Of course you make me happy, why would you ask such a thing?" you respond back looking into his stormy blue hues.
His jaw clenches and he looks at your friend and back to you. "We are leaving." He states as if dismissing you from your date with your male friend.
"What? No. Alexei, no." you stated.
"I do not know him, nor do I like how you were touching him, we are going somewhere. You'll like it. Get in." he states and gestures to the carriage.
"Alexei, no." You state firmly.
He clenches his jaw and looks over you. "Do not make me put you in there myself. Now. Be a good wife, and get in the carriage." He snarls lowly.
Licking your lips you look over his face and let out a slight breath before getting into the carriage. Feeling the shake of the carriage from the door closing. Placing your hands in your lap you look down, studying them a moment before you close your eyes almost in defeat, and wonder where he is taking you. It was clear he wasn't taking you home. Why was he suddenly acting this way? What was it that made him feel like you were unhappy? You began to study yourself, you even began to question yourself. But why? His actions alone.
His actions just then made you question if this was really where you needed to be. But the more you thought about it, the more you realized that maybe he was seeing something you were not seeing. Were you really happier with your friend than you were with him? Was he not seeing how much you loved him? Were you really doing something bad? You turn back and look at him as he stops the carriage and climbs into the back of it with you as someone else takes over. Someone he had paid to drop you both off and take the carriage back to the house.
You sit there, in silence, and you study him, you study his face, his eyes, how his jaw twitches, how his brow knits, how his eyes seem to be full of sorrow, and maybe is that hate? You look down, and you think about all you've done, but you can't help but shake your head. You love this man, and he was blind to false things. Was there a way to fix it? Was there a way to get him to see that you love him just as much as he loves you?
"Where are we going? There is nothing for miles." You point out looking out the little window of the carriage door.
"We're going someplace secluded." He states.
"Secluded? Whatever for?" You ask with a slight bit of worry in your tone.
"Enough with the questions, you will see when we get there." He states, short in his tone.
You lick your lips and hike a brow before looking back down at your lap and letting out a slight sigh. You feel this could get problematic.
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By the time you get to where you were going, the sun had already set and come back up. You look over his face as he offers to help you off the carriage. Your jaw clenches and you shake your head.
"Are you serious? Why are we here? We are days away from home at this rate Alexie." You point out.
HE shakes his head and looks at you and looks over the country home before looking back at you. "You will survive. This is for a reason."
"THIS IS ABSURD!" You scream. The only thing you cause to stir is birds out in the field. Your jaw clenches and you look over him shoving past him and heading toward the inside.
He sighs slightly and shakes his head, he isn't expecting you to understand. Rubbing his brow a moment he looks up at the gray skies and then over on the vast rolling fields of nothing. A small smile creeps across his face as he listens to the front door being slammed. Another soft sigh escapes his lips as he heads toward the house.
Upon walking in he looks around and spots you standing there in the living room. As he walks toward you to join you, you turn and look at him.
"What is all of this about?" You ask.
"You need to see how much love I have for you. I cannot do that back there." He stated honestly.
"So you isolate me?!" You raise your tone.
"Yes! It keeps you away from another man touching you!" He snaps.
"NO ONE ELSE IS TOUCHING ME!" You snap back.
"HOW DO I KNOW?!" He steps closer to you.
"No. You don't get to ask me that question! How do you not see that I love you!? I have always loved you!" You snarl as you step forward challenging him.
"Well, I suppose now you can show me just how much you love me as I show you how much I love you." He stated coldly.
"Don't be so pigeon-livered." You growl to yourself. "You're being a floozer Alexei. What has ever gotten into you?" You ask him.
"Are you really going to throw insults at me? Pigeon-livered? Floozer? Do not." He grips your arm and pulls you close. "Do not cross me."
You shove him and look over his face. "Or what?" You ask with a tightly knitted brow. "What are you going to do?"
Stretching his neck from left to right he licks his lips and his jaw clenched.
"WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?!" You snapped.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?!" He snapped back. He began to pace. "All I ever do is shower you with love and attention, I do nothing but prove to you how much you mean to me. I make sure you always put your best forward. And you do this. Run off with another man doing god knows what." He states.
Crossing your arms over your chest you stare at him a moment and blink a few times. "Are you blinded by your own selfishness right now? Can you not see past your own nose? I am not laying with another man Alexei! I have never laid with another man!" you snap.
"HOW DO I KNOW THAT?!" He snaps. "How do I know that?" He asked you. A complete and utter look of defeat sprawled across his features.
Walking to him you slap him across the face. Not once, but twice. Reaching forward he grips your throat and moves you through the house. Kicking open a door he shoves you into the bedroom and starts to unbutton his jacket. Looking over you his eyes hungry. His snarl was fierce, his jaw clenched so hard you could hear the bones grinding and you could feel the flex of his jaw. You try to shove past him but that wasn't happening.
"What are you going to do rape me Alexei?" You ask.
He scoffed and looked over at you. "Do you think that little of me? Strip." He demands.
"No." You cross your arms. At this point, you were fighting him to fight, how far could you push?
"I said strip!" He demands again. Walking to you he spins you around and starts to untie your skirt.
Layer by layer you fight, until you are both stripped down to mere thin layers. Tears staining your face, you look over him and shake your head, a small thumping sound of your heart feeling like it was echoing in the room.
"All I have ever wanted was for you to love me. You have to love me, you must love me." He states. He steps closer to you, looking over you he grips your face and pulls you near. "You will love me. You will." He states firmly.
Scared at this point you cannot find your words. He presses his lips to yours and at first, you give in, you cave, you wrap your arms around him and kiss him deeply, lovingly, longing for that affection he wanted to give you, but then you start to push away, saddened by the fact that he couldn't believe you, that he had no trust in you.
"No…" You start to push away, but you didn't want him to at the same time, it was this conflicting feeling.
"Do not tell me no, you want this…" he points out as he listens to your breathing.
You have no means of responding.
"I'm not taking that as a no." he states.
You give him a cold stare, looking over his face, his lips press against yours and you shove him back, and he throws you to the bed. You bounce once before he climbs on top of you and looks you over. He tilts his head and looks over your face and takes your wrists and places them above your head and looks over your face intently.
You attempt to wiggle free but he hovers over you, his body pressed against yours. In one hand he has your hands gripped together, in the other hand hikes up your skirt, he looks over you, and he leans in and nips at your lips. Your breathing becomes heavier, and you close your eyes. Shaking your head you begin to breathe heavier. It felt good, his hands on you, it always felt good, but there was this sense of fight that also washed over you.
As his lips found your neck he kissed up your neck to your jaw, finding your lips. While you loved his affection, you were terrified. Literally scared of him.
"Get off of me." you demand.
"Let me show you. See how much I love you." He takes your hand and places it on his hard cock. "This is how much I love you." He states.
You pull your hand away and turn your head in another direction. His senses overwhelm him, and unable to control himself he groans softly as he presses himself against you. You turn your head away from him, maybe checking out, but at the same time ever so present in this moment. As he thrusts himself into you you take in a deep breath. A whimper leaves your lips as a groan leaves his.
Looking over you he observes your features as he turns your face to look at him, leaning in he kisses you again. And it was then you cave, just a little. Your lips pressed against his, your hand moved up his arms to his hair and you pull him closer. Your hips roll against his thrusts and you begin to whimper against his lips. The feeling of him against you was something you always loved. Truthfully you never questioned this man's love for you. But you were conflicted because of how he was coming at you. You didn't know if you should fight him, or cave to him a little more.
The more he thrusts the harder he becomes in his motions, the more you fight. But the more you fight, the more he growls, it was a conflicting feeling all over again and you aren't sure what to do, it was overwhelming. You push him away, shoving him but he pulls you closer.
Feeling your body flush against his you let out another soft whimper. You move your hands to his shoulders as you feel him thrust deeper into you, your moans escaping you were almost pained but yet pleasure-filled. Your hips rolled against his as he continued to thrust with a fever. He pulls you even closer to him, pulling you into his lap as he guides you along his stiffened cock, nuzzling into you, nipping and biting at you.
The moans fill the bedroom, bouncing off the windows and the walls, and while you might be fighting him because of his choice of actions, this man was your life. You kiss him deeply as you both moan in pure pleasure. Your bodies collide in such a raw motion. Thrust after thrust, grunt, and groan after grunt and groan, screams of pure euphoria leaving you both. It all came to a halt with a trembling body-shaking finish, feeling as his cock twitched inside of you as hot ribbons of seed coat your velvet walls. He snarled against your skin, and you bring a hand across his face, and you begin to cry.
Holding you close, he looks down at you, smoothing your hair he presses his face against you.
"Shh… now now, everything is alright. I love you, so much." He whispers. "You have to love me back, you just have to." he says softly.
"I… I do love you, Alexei. I do. I wish you would see that." you say between sniffles.
He holds you close, nuzzling against you. "Shall we draw you a bath?" He asks.
Nodding your head he looks over your face and nods. "I shall draw you a bath. Think about what I said." He states.
"Are you isolating me? From everyone?" you ask as he gets up and slips his pants back on.
With a firm stare, he looks over you. "I am, and it's for our own good. You won't be seeing him, we will stay here as long as it takes." He states truthfully.
And like that, your heart becomes conflicted, you love this man, but you feel scared of this man… but then you look at him, and you don't feel afraid anymore. You just want him to see that you do love him. It's conflicting, and it's terrifying, you love him, but is it true? Staying here, you're only choice is to grow to love him. But that's been his goal all along, for you to love him, and for him to show you in so many ways how he loves you.
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sunsetkerr · 7 months
Text
HUSH HUSH | s.kerr
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summary: you show up to practice with a diamond on your left hand, only your teammates don't know that your captain is the one who gave it to you [443 words]
pairing: matildas!reader x sam kerr
notes: a second part coming soon x
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YOU THOUGHT ABOUT TAKING IT OFF.. You really did, but you just couldn't. The way it sat on your finger and the way it looked on your finger screamed at you to leave it on. So, you walked onto the pitch with some of the other girls, a ring on your left hand ready to be admired in the sunlight.
It took a while for the girls to notice it, not Sam of course, she was busy slyly hiding her smirks every time she caught you looking at it.
Caitlin was the first one to notice the ring, passing you the bottle of sunscreen being passed around. "Oh my god," She quickly grabbed your left hand and pulled it closer so she could get a better look. "Oh my god!" She exclaimed, catching the attention of some of the other girls.
"What?" Alanna looked over from where she was stood with Mackenzie. The pair trudged over to see what the commotion was, but understood when they caught sight of your new diamond, glistening in the bright sun. "What the fuck?!" She shouted.
Soon, all of the team was surrounding you. Sam stood towards the back of the pack with her arms crossed and a smirk resting on her lips.
You both had been dating for a few years. It was very private and you preferred it that way, but you both knew that when sam asked you to marry her on the weekend that soon your bubble of bliss would pop soon and that your team- and the world, would eventually find out about your relationship.
"Who gave you that?"
"I didn't even know you were seeing someone, Y/N!"
'I can't believe it', 'I'm actually in shock' Were some of the sentences being thrown your way as your team got a look at your new ring. You caught Sam's eye momentarily and tried your best not to laugh with her.
"Surprise" You chuckled, looking from your ring to your team.
"This is one pretty big surprise," Alanna chuckled, in utter disbelief, "Oh yeah 'by the way guys, I'm engaged'!".
"What is wrong with you?" Macca asked, holding onto your hand to get a closer look at your engagement ring.
"I like to keep things quiet," You admitted with a shy shrug.
"Uh.. Yeah.. We can tell" Alanna laughed.
"So.." Sam's voice cut through the commotion, "Who's the lucky girl?" the smirk that was on her face had grown into a cocky look that only you two could decipher.
You chuckled, crossing your arms and beginning to turn away from the crowd. You quickly shot back at your fiancee, "Wouldn't you like to know".
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luveline · 2 years
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i think alternate versions for roan calling reader mom would be fun since there are so many ways it could happen !! personally would love it to happen after the last convo with eddie seeing how roan just says the silliest shit it wouldnt phase me if she just started calling her mom directly after that convo
I thought so too! much pressure to pick just the one scenario and why bother!!! plus I love this idea. the ficlet anon mentioned. ♡ roan calling reader 'mommy' for the first time ♡ fem!reader [4k]
Eddie had made the decision to ask his daughter, Roan, for permission before he proposed to you. He thought it might be best for her to get a say and that by including her any future transition would come smoother, softer.
He hadn't anticipated this.
Roan practically writhes in her car seat to be released. She hasn't stopped singing since he told her his plans.
"I'm gonn'have a mommy, I'm gonn'have a mommy," she repeats, a saccharine sweet tune that makes his heart thrum for her.
He hadn't realised how badly she wanted this.
Because Roan loves you. Has loved you since she met you, has grown to love you like any kid loves a parent. She's infatuated with you and, Eddie's proud to say, you adore her in turn. He can't believe that fate would work like this, that he'd find you — someone who could love both him and his daughter with an intensity he melts under and a tenacity that scares him.
You're a fixture in their lives. You're forever. Eddie knows that and he thinks Roan had known it some. His admission that he has plans to marry you had seemingly sealed the deal.
Though he feels that may be a bad analogy. Whatever's happened to his daughter, 'sealed' doesn't apply; she's become usntoppered. All her mountains of love and affection for you have appeared and they cannot be tamped down.
Believe him, he's tried.
"Roan," he says, very carefully and with all of his parenting might, "what's the rule?"
She's still in her dress she wore to daycare with Teddy, her one-eared stuffy, clutched to her chest. He watches her beam to herself and sing to the bear through the rearview mirror.
"Roan," he says again.
"What?" she asks, looking up.
"What's the rule, sweetheart? What did we talk about on the way here?"
Roan whines to be let out of her car seat. "We talked about big questions," she says.
"Right, babe, we did. But what did we talk about after that?"
Roan stares at him, dumbfounded. After a couple of seconds she nods, bunches messy from all the excitement. "Oh! I can't tell Y/N about the-" She stops dead, the word sticky like honey in her mouth. "Puh-postal. Posal. "
"Yes, the proposal. Because?"
"Um, 'cos it's private?"
"Yes," he says gratefully, dragging both hands through his hair. He's far from ready to propose tonight, covered in oil and grease and dirt from a long shift. He needs time, and he's worried Roan might force his hand. He wouldn't have come at all if she hadn't wanted to see you so badly.
She would be my mommy? she'd all but-screamed, more excitement on her face than a Christmas morning when she'd realised the enormity of his admission.
"We don't want to spoil the surprise, okay? So we aren't going to talk about the 'puh-posal', we're gonna talk about other things, yeah?"
"Yes, now let me out!"
Eddie bites his lip at her lack of manners. It's his own fault.
He gets out and releases Roan, slinging her hastily packed backpack over his shoulder and locking the car as she sprints to your front door. He wouldn't normally let her run off by herself but it's a short distance that she clears in seconds.
She hammers at the door, and Eddie means hammers. Both fists and her teddy's glass eyes slamming into the wood.
He catches up with her and pulls her back before she can smash something, whether it be her plushie's face or her tiny fists. She fights his hold.
"Baby?" he calls loudly, face angled toward the grain of your front door. "It's us."
"I'm coming!" you yell.
Roan squeals. It's extremely heartwarming. Eddie's sure he'd be beaming if he didn't suddenly feel sick with nerves. He might not he about to propose, but he'll have to eventually. Have to sum up every feeling he has for you, and ask for something huge from you. He'd been so caught up in Roan's acceptance of his decision that he'd forgotten there's a future where you don't say yes to this. Irresponsible, that he hadn't considered that happening.
He can survive your rejection. (He would literally be in agony, but he would survive.) Roan might get permanently hurt, though. He hadn't thought about it.
Nausea climbs up like a wave. It spikes as you open the door in your pajamas, a t-shirt he'd got for you and a black pair of slacks. Your hair's slightly messy but your face is clean, a water droplet dripping down the curve of your neck. You must've been washing up for the night.
Roan squeals again and launches herself at you. It's not unusual behaviour for her — she loves you, seriously — and you giggle infectiously, sticky thick and sweet with fondness.
"Oh hi, princess," you say with equal enthusiasm, pulling her up easy. It had taken you a while to master the parent hold. Now you're a champ. "I didn't think I was gonna see you tonight, wow!"
She looks like the happiest little girl on the planet. "Daddy said we could come because I answered the big question and I wanted to come really badly," she explains in a rush, smiling as wide as she possibly can.
You laugh again and look up from her to raise your eyebrows at Eddie. "Big questions, huh? Sounds like daddy was proposing to you." You've made yourself laugh.
Eddie could keel over.
"He said not to talk-"
"I said-" he interrupts loudly, mouth moving before he can really think about it, "not to talk about-" and he really can't think of anything, he's flailing, he's hopeless-
"The postal!" Roan says helpfully.
"Postal," you echo quizzically.
"I missed you so much," Roan says.
You forget very quickly about the 'postal'. You're as gone for her as she is for you. "Aw, babe, I missed you so much too. I'm so floppin' happy you're here."
You reach your hand out toward Eddie to pull him inside. He closes the door behind himself and drops Roan's bag by the door, following his two lovely girls down the hallway and into the living room. You flick the light on and drop Roan into her special designated seat, pausing with your hands on either side of her face to ask a familiar question.
"Can I give you a kiss, princess?" you ask.
Roan doesn't usually say no, only when she's really cranky, and today isn't an exception. "Yes, kisses."
You kiss from temple to temple and then ruffle her hair. Your fingers get caught in her bunches and you give her another kiss, murmuring into her skin, "Can I take those hair ties out? I bet you have a hairpin headache."
Roan doesn't know what a hairpin headache is but she's taken on an almost delirious pleasure from being so loved on and lets you remove her hair ties without a single sound.
"Mm," you hum, threading your fingers into her curls. "Tell me how this feels, baby."
Roan closes her eyes as you massage her scalp, encouraging her tangled curls apart with gentle, carding movements.
You're being especially tender, like you somehow know how important this moment is in Roan and Eddie's minds.
"Feels nice, huh?" you ask when she shivers.
"Feels nice," she confirms giddily, leaning back into your big throw cushions.
"How could daddy leave them in all day?" you chide. You're clearly joking, sending him an apologetic pout. He gets it. Part of your bond with her is picking on him.
"He was being grumpy on the couch."
Your pout turns authentic.
"What?" you ask, lowering your voice. "Are you okay?"
Eddie smiles, crosses your rug, takes your shoulders into both hands. "Perfect," he says, and kisses you soundly.
You pull a hand carefully out of Roan's hair and lay it flat over his chest, straight into an oil stain. It's greasy against his skin and under your fingers, and your slightly disgusted reaction stops his adoring kiss short.
"Still in your work clothes? Are you sure you're okay?"
His hands rove slowly up the slopes of your shoulders. "I'm fine. I'm a busy guy, you know? Haven't had time to change with trouble running me ragged."
"Who, this precious angel? For shame, Munson. Like I'd believe it."
You emphasise your point by leaning down and away from him, back into Roan's bubble. She responds like a moth to flame, her small hands quick to screw into the fabric of your sleep shirt and anchor you in place so you can't escape again.
"You're the sweetest baby I've ever met. Your dad's telling me white lies, I know."
"I brought a tiara for you," Roan says, mind on one thing.
"You did? Is it time for a princess party?"
Eddie wouldn't be surprised if Roan burst into tears any second now.
She runs off babbling happily to grab her bag and you turn back to him and stand at full height. You're really pretty, and he loves you, and he's told you so many times now and it still feels urgent to tell you again.
"I love you," you both say at the same time.
You spend a handful of seconds sharing a smile.
"How's your fish?" he asks.
"Still super alive." You drape both arms over his shoulders like you might slow dance with him. "You should shower. I washed your navy pajamas earlier, they're clean."
"I'll just get changed, I'm too tired to shower."
More like, if he leaves you and Roan alone there's no way he can possibly keep this situation under control.
You shake your head. "Don't be silly. Me and Roan'll start our party without you. I'll make samdwhiches and snacks and stuff, don't worry about it."
He really wants to reject your offer.
"Baby, you have to take care of yourself," you murmur, stroking down the hill of his cheek with your pinky finger.
He couldn't be more in love.
"Yeah, okay. I'll be really quick."
"Take your time." It's obvious that you're confused. Long passed are the days where Eddie had worried Roan might be a bit much for you. He's usually got more trust in you. "You know I love her, right? I don't-"
He kisses the stricken look off of your face.
You lean into it, like you'd been waiting for it. He supposes it's a reassurment, and he offers you more, "Of course I know that. M'just tired, and she's excited tonight. Don't want you to stress."
"I'm not stressed. Now go shower, you're getting oil on me."
-
Eddie is an extremely physically expressive person and as a result has created and extremely physically expressive child. Roan doesn't just feel emotions, she experiences them. Excitement for her isn't a feeling but a mode, in which she sings and dances and climbs in and out of your lap citing a thousand different reasons.
"I'm straightening your crown," she informs seriously. It falls off of your head and onto the couch. She doesn't seem in any hurry to retrieve it, choosing instead to play with your hair.
"Did daddy give you candy for dinner?"
"We had chicken and waffles."
"Oh, nice. Did he leave any for me?"
She thinks about it, socked feet digging into your thighs. "I think he left chicken wings for you and then Rufus was by the porch."
"I see how it is. I'm gone for one day and he starts giving my dinner to the strays."
Roan's fingertips are warm where they explore the skin beneath your ear. "What did you eat for dinner?"
"Well," you say, wrapping an arm around her until she collapses into your lap, "I didn't have your dad around to cook for me so I had a sandwhich and chips." You feel bad for being a poor role model.
"Chips," she says, eyes widening.
"You want some? I got lots left."
You and Roan head into the kitchen. You get her some chips and start to make sandwiches with the scraps you have left for her princess party.
"You want crusts?"
"No," she says. You really love the way she says it, like she's being super cheeky even though you really don't mind cutting them off.
"So what's up with you, Ro? Was school okay today?"
Roan's bag of chips rattles as she flounces toward you and raises her arms to be picked up. You're mid-sandwhich, so you raise her up onto the counter top and stand half in front of her to account for the low possibility that she might fall off.
"Stacey P.," she begins, somehow managing to fit two chips in her small mouth at the same time, "she got a new bike that she was riding to school, and she got a basket and it had a flower."
You cut the sandwhich into four triangles. "That sounds fun. Did dad let you ride yours too?"
"Yeah but he makes me get off at the hill."
"Your legs will get tired trying to bike up that hill, babe. I's like a mountain."
You smile at the mental image of it, Eddie in his work uniform, a pink sparkly bike under one arm and Roan's hand in his. Sometimes, you're genuinely shocked you managed to nab him before somebody else did.
"I can do it," she says confidently.
You slide the plate toward her. "Sandwhich?"
Roan ends up disassembling a triangle to shove chips inside. You laugh under you breath at her antics. She reminds you of her dad all the time, and he reminds her of you. They're intertwined completely.
"Roan, you won't think I'm a weirdo if I give you a hug, will you? I really missed you and dad."
Roan drops her sandwhich instantly and opens her arms up, grinning. "Dad says being a weirdo is cool."
"Being a weirdo is cool," you agree, bundling her up into a very close hug.
Her hair is soft as silk pressed to your cheek, sweet curls crushed against your skin.
"You know I love you?" you ask her.
Being close to her like this has you thinking extremely selfish thoughts. You're not naive, you know you do lots of things that mom's do. You know you look after her, that you love her, that you want to be her mom forever. It kind of feels taboo to think it. Do I have the right?
By the time you'd met Roan she was barely a baby anymore. Eddie's her dad, he did and he does all the hard stuff, but you've slowly earned certain gifts. You love to make her dinner, and get her dressed, and help her in the shower when Eddie's busy — all the basic stuff that doesn't feel basic at all. And you get to do more. You sit with her during tantrums, you cause tantrums. You kiss her scraped knees and let her nap in your lap, you answer her unending questions with patience and you spoil her when you can. You take care of her like she's your own.
She feels like your own.
But it's terrifying to presume.
The thought of one day losing Eddie is striking. He's your favourite person in the entire world (along with his daughter, of course). You love him and everything that comes with him, the oil stains and the bad jokes and the nerd games, the thousands of cuddles and his eager kisses. Losing Roan at the same time would be a death sentence.
"I love you too!" she says. It's like she'd been waiting all day for you to say something and now's her time to shine. "I love you so much and dad told me not to tell you 'bout it but I love you so I want to."
You frown into her hair. "Dad told you not to tell me you love me?"
She giggles. "You are trying to trick me."
You giggle in reply, willing to run with it. "I'm not trying to trick you, baby. I'm just confused."
"Dad says it was private."
You encourage her face back to meet her eyes. "I don't know what daddy's been telling you, but if you love me it's okay to tell me. I love you."
You rub her cheek with your thumb as she nods a voracious agreement. "And you're gonna be my mom," she says, beaming. It's casual. She doesn't realise the bomb she's dropped.
Lips parted, you stare at her. Roan goes shy, the obvious beginnings of rejection on her face.
"Baby," you say quickly, ignoring the trembling in your own hands as you stroke her hair from her forehead and cup the back of her head, "I think that's something me and your dad have to talk about first."
"But after the pu-postal you'll- Dad said-"
"What did I say?" Eddie asks, brown eyes wide as a deer in headlights.
Roan falls silent.
You look between the two Munson's. Your heart pounds with anxiety.
Eddie stands in the kitchen doorway in his pajamas with a towel around his neck, curls sopping wet and leeching into the white fabric steadily. He smells distinctly like conditioner even from a couple feet away, the fruity sleekness of jasmine tickling your nose.
"What has she told you?" Eddie asks, scratching the back of his neck.
"What's a 'postal'?"
You're ashamed to admit you're on the edge of being upset.
"It's uh- a code word," he says. "For a secret."
"We're keeping secrets?"
"No?"
"You don't sound very sure."
"It's just- It's- It's hard to explain, baby."
Roan's hands covet your arm. You let her pull you toward her and hug you, still so confused by everything that's being said, and you're conflicted about what she's told you. Honestly, you're a little bit hurt.
"Roan said... Said you told her that she shouldn't tell me she loves me because it's private?"
Eddie pulls at both ends of the towel, looking conflicted. "It's not that."
"It's okay," Roan says softly, resting her face against your arm.
"I just don't get what-"
"It's okay, mommy," Roan says, lifting her chin to smile at you.
"Roan," Eddie says, devastated.
You press your lips together hard and turn to her, the prick of tears sudden and effective as a thorn. It's okay, mommy.
You get your arms under her armpits and pull her up into your chest before she can protest one moving to behind her butt and the other her back as her knees dig into your waist. You know if you look at Eddie you're gonna start crying for real, hiding your face in her hair and taking a shaky breath.
You always say the same thing when Roan is unhappy. Why are you sad, babe? It's okay. You can cry if you want to. Do you want me to do something?
Roan doesn't remember the words, but she tries.
"Why are you crying?" Roan asks. Clumsy, earnest, lovely.
"I'm not," you deny.
"It's okay to cry when you have to."
Eddie joins her reassurance. "Babe, it's alright. I'll tell you whatever you want to know, I promise. I'm not keeping secrets from you. Please don't be upset."
"I'm fine," you squeak.
Neither Munson believes you.
"I didn't tell Roan she couldn't say she loves you, okay? It was something else I asked her not to tell you."
You blink quick and dispel tears. It's a silly thing to cry about. You can't understand it, and you're embarrassed. You're perplexed by Eddie's sudden opaqueness but thrilled and aching at Roan's calling you 'mommy'. You can't get the words out to tell him.
Roan called you mommy.
"I love you," you say tearfully, squeezing Roan tight enough to make the poor girl groan.
"You're suffotating me!" she laughs, squirming.
Her dad finally comes up behind you and spreads his hand over your shoulder. You raise your gaze to his, find his lovely features lined with a strange kind of stress. He dips his head toward your ear.
"If you don't want her to call you mom, that's okay," he says quietly, seriously, "I didn't know she was going to."
"I know, Eds," you say, relaxing as his hand climbs to your neck.
"I'll tell you whatever you want to know," he reaffirms.
You understand what he's trying to say. All these conversations can be had privately if you want to have them. But Eddie doesn't realise that he doesn't need to worry, he never has. You love them.
"If it's okay with you," you murmur, staring at the soft 'V' shapes of his bottom lashes, "she can call me mom."
It feels like an admission. Is there any other way he can take it? Yes, Eddie, I plan on being here for a long fucking while.
It's a huge thing to admit that you want, and to promise that you'll live upto.
Eddie encircles the two of you in his arms. As Roan rests her head against your chest, your rest your head against his collar. He lifts his hand to wipe away the small shock of tears lingering in your eyelashes and then kisses the top of your head three times in a row.
You understand what the secret had been, suddenly.
The pu-postal.
Your heart jackhammers. You cling to Roan, unsure how long you stand there being hugged and hugging.
Roan breaks first. "Sam-widges," she whines, wiggling.
Eddie pulls away. You set Roan on the counter and she continues to eat her sandwhiches, legs kicking against the dishwasher.
You collect yourself before you turn to face Eddie — and his secret — head on. You can tell he knows you know.
You sniffle under his adoring gaze.
"Love you," he says, leaning down for a kiss. He stops before his lips can reach yours, the tip of his nose whispering against yours as his hands explore your abdomen.
Waist, ribs, the small of your back.
You stare at his closed eyes.
"I love you," he says again.
"I love you, Eddie."
His eyes open and he catches you watching him.
Eddie doesn't kiss you, only stares. You nod almost imperceptibly and he chucks under your chin with his knuckle before he gives you some space, moving to stand by Roan where she's lounging on the counter and picking apart a sandwhich to fill with chips.
He kisses her cheek. "Got one for me?"
Roan holds her sandwhich up to his mouth. Eddie takes a huge bite.
"Dad! You almost ate my fingers!"
"Not my fault your hands look yummy."
You hold your own face in two hands and feel the blistering heat of your cheeks seep into your hands. How can two people make up so much of your life?
"I think we should move in together," you say.
"What?" Eddie asks, startled.
"You and Roan. You should come and live with me."
Eddie's barely smiled when Roan shrieks at the top of her lungs.
"Yes!"
-
more eddie and roan
there's an eddie and roan masterlist available through my navigation but the link is temporarily not working here ♡
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wheelsup30 · 24 days
Text
He loves me not (Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader)
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(Note: Here's a little explanation of hanahaki disease for those who haven't heard of it: x)
cw: hanahaki disease, slightly gorey and gross descriptions, unrequited love, gender neutral reader, ANGST, death.
word count: 1.5k
dividers: x
tag list: @ralvezfanatic @softhairedhotch @samsgoddess @pisceslovrr
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Guilt.
That's the last thing you should have felt staring down at the palm of your hand after the agony and panic you'd just experienced, but as the air made it back to your lungs, you were overwhelmed by it.
All he'd done was smile at you. That's it, just a quick, reassuring smile as he went past you to his office. Yet here you are in an empty hallway coming back from hacking up a lung. It had been going on for a while now, only recently it seemed to have worsened from once a month to almost every day. Even now it felt like every time he looked at you there was a rattle in your throat that needed clearing. 
The outcome itself had worsened too with time, they started off no bigger than baby's breath, but now they had grown to roses, thick and blood soaked that make you gag as you pull them from the back of your mouth. ‘Well, at least it's only the petals…’ you think to yourself as you go to the bathroom to wash your hands and dispose of what had been expelled from you. You shudder to think what it would be like if stems got involved…especially roses…
“Y/n?” Shit. Emily. 
You scrub your hands quickly after tossing the petal in the trash, glancing over at her and smiling as she looks up from her phone.
“You okay? You just walked off in the middle of your paperwork…”
“I'm fine,” You assure her, hoping there's no blood on your teeth. 
It’s convincing enough that she leaves you be, giving you time to wash the taste of copper and soil from your tongue. This couldn’t keep happening, it was only a matter of time before someone found out and tried to take you to a treatment centre, and then they’d all know. Aaron is married, you could never do that to him or Haley, so you’d resigned yourself to at home solutions and managing your symptoms by…well…hiding them.
Eventually you make it back out and are immediately called to the table, keeping your eyes fixed on JJ as she gives you the case information. Hotch sat in the same seat every time, so it was easy to ignore him and avoid another disaster. Most paperwork days went like this, 50% done and then you’re off again, giving you even more paperwork for when you get back. It was one of those things that made you whisper how you loved your job as you resisted the urge to actually bite a chunk out of your desk. You feel someone reach towards you as you stand, but you move out of the way before they can stop you in case it’s him. Fortunately it’s Emily, and she follows you down the hall, hand on your arm and a look of concern guiding her brows together. “Hey, what’s going on with you? You stood up like you got electrocuted.” 
A shaky sigh slips from your mouth, and you shrug, faking a tight-lipped smile. “Just a little tired, I guess I’m jumpy.” 
You weren’t. Not like this, anyway. You knew that, and so did Emily, but she also knew you were stubborn as all hell and if you didn’t want people to know something- you’d take it to your metaphorical grave.
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Two and a half hours later, everyone stood in a small but relatively functional sheriff’s office. The case was pretty cut and dry, a local killer targeting public areas by a town she felt wronged her as a child. Most of the case was spent on different errands with JJ and Rossi, anything to avoid being left in a room with Aaron, you knew with this small of a workstation you’d have to speak to him and an episode would be close to unavoidable.
It doesn’t take long to track the unsub down, finding her at the scene of her first childhood crime. You approach her carefully with everyone else’s guns trained on her as you try to convince her to turn herself in, she’s hesitant at first, but with a few minutes of talking between you it finally seems like she’s calming down-
Then she lunges at you.
Everything happens in slow motion, Morgan runs to pull her back while someone else pulls you too, turning you to bury your face in their chest. Everything is a blur of panic and adrenaline, any noise muffled by your pounding heartbeat while you catch your breath…which is when you smell it.
His cologne.
You are wrapped in Aaron’s arms, one of his hands on your back and the other stroking your hair as he tries to get you back from your startled state. Little does he know, he’s making everything else worse.
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The burn is slow at first, like a scraping on your throat that you might be able to wash away with some water, but as you walk to the car with his arm around your shoulders it grows into a firm pressure- then a blockage. You can only clear your throat so many times before it moves enough that you have to cough it out, and you do at first. Until there’s another, and another, and soon enough you’ve fallen to your knees, trying desperately to catch your breath as petals clog your trachea. It’s too much- you can’t even tell what the others are doing through your dizzy head and frantic attempts to inhale through the blood and flowers. 
Aaron, as anyone would, panics. He tries his best to smack your back to help your coughing, but when your breathing goes from strained to nearly non-existent, he knows he has to act. “What’s wrong with them?” He shouts, looking at the others for answers he wouldn’t be getting, but Emily still tries.
“Are those petals?” Horror laces her tone as she’s struck by a realisation. The avoidance, the way you’d been so jumpy earlier and had gone to her with questions the past few weeks instead of Aaron…
“Hanahaki…” Spencer says it as the word springs to mind for her. “Hotch…you’re the only one that touched them.” They’re outside, but the temperature drops when they all realise what you’d been hiding. You were in love with him, with your boss- a married man. It didn’t take a genius to realise why it had gotten so bad, the stigma the disease held in the first place was enough to make those that caught it wary of getting help.
It occurred to Aaron at that same time that you had been acting strangely, he had been so caught up with Jack and Haley that he hadn’t had time to notice you. You had been one of his closest friends, once upon a time, but when Haley got pregnant…that’s when it started. Frequent dinners with the two of them became monthly, then special occasions with others, then…nothing. Hell- you’d even declined his invitation to the dumb superbowl party the two of you crashed at Sean’s every year…and he hadn’t noticed. Maybe if you’d said something, or if he’d seen the signs earlier he could’ve let you move past it- he could’ve let you down easy and had his best friend back just as fast. He frantically thinks that maybe there’s still time, and cradles you in his arms, his breathing shallow as he sees your eyes start to roll back.
“No. No, no no-” Hotch jams his fingers in your mouth, almost down your throat, frantic to save you as the petals and blood cling to his fingers. “Please-” He whispers, trying to keep your mouth angled down so anything in it will drop out. You stopped breathing over a minute ago, but he still holds your body close to his chest, desperately crying over it.
“I love you, I love you so much, please don't die- I love you- why isn't it working!?-” 
It wouldn't. Of course it wouldn't. Aaron Hotchner loved you…but he wasn't in love with you. Yes, you were his best friend, but you were just that…his friend. His friend who brought wine to every dinner, his friend who was the first to meet his baby boy after Jack's grandparents and at the same time as Haley's sister, His friend who sat through every late night phone call where he stressed over Sean’s future…And now you’re gone.
Blood had been dripping from your mouth…Aaron didn't notice till Rossi took you from his arms and helped the paramedics bag you up- who had called them? He didn't know, he was too distraught just seeing you lifeless. Even after you were gone, your blood and those petals coated his hands and shirt.
He wanted to grab you by the shoulders and scream at you, how could you just sit back and let yourself suffer? How could you be that selfish?- No. No, it wasn’t selfish. You were anything but. You had chosen to let yourself die to something entirely curable so that Aaron could’ve lived his life none the wiser to how you felt…so that he could be happy with his wife and their new baby. His life was supposed to be perfect…but instead he was left with a disease you’d passed onto him…one entirely incurable.
Guilt.
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tarjapearce · 8 months
Note
I had a cute idea of the soccer family and it’s like wife reader and Miguel after a long long day and they finally put kids in bed clean the kitchen from dinner and their both ready for bed in their sleep clothes and they decided to watch a movie but the movie its a sad movie when a kid dies or get really sick and the wife reader gets really sensitive about that cause she imaginé the movie kid as her own kids and start crying and Miguel it’s trying to comfort her (I already ask for this in another page but I think you would get this better) I think it’s a cute idea, love your writing. 🫶🫶
Omg, I saw a movie that reminds me so much to this!!! . Not precisely physically injured but yeah. Hope you like! ❤️✨
(If you're into drama, Watch it ❤️)
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The quietness after another successful day in the O'Hara household meant another victory for daily activities. Benjamin was changed into his little blue and red onesie, and put to sleep. Gabriella was tucked in bed; You and Miguel were ready to enjoy a little time together before going to bed.
Miguel had been zapping through the channels, you cuddled him and he put an arm around your shoulders.
His eyes were settled on the tv, the scene of a blonde little girl looking at to what seemed to be her legal guardian, confused as to why there was a new lock in the door.
The movie title displayed on the bottom, 'What Maisie Knew'
"She's such a cutie" You mumbled as you watched the little actress making an appearance in school holding hands with a man as he walked her towards the classroom.
---
As the movie advanced you couldn't help but to cling to Miguel, he was as tense as you were. Seeing the characters fight over the custody of their only daughter and making her to choose gave your heart a doleful flip.
Eyes couldn't help but gloss at a certain scene, the little girl being awaken in the middle of the night just cause her emotionally neglecting mother thought it was a good idea.
Resentment, pain yet understanding were one of the primary things the movie had stirred within your pot of emotions but soon sadness joined.
How could a mother do such thing to her only child? Still was beyond you. You had tried to be empathic with the character, but still, was something your mind couldn't quite grasp.
Her neglect and abandonment was deliberated. Sussan didn't fight for her unless she saw Maisie being happy with others.
Fat tears rolled down your cheeks and Miguel frowned
"¿Estás bien?" (Are you ok?)
His hands pushed you closer to him on his chest as your head shook. He turned the TV off.
"How can she do that? Resent her own child to be happy. Like, she is a child! It's not Maisie's fault she's been an unstable woman."
Miguel gave a deep exhale and rested his head ontop of yours.
"You know that not many parents are meant to be."
"It only makes it worse to know that she is aware of everything that is going on. I just... ugh, I could... I could never do something like that. Marrying someone out of spite, dragging your kid into a grown up fight, and make her choose!"
You hiccuped and he wiped away your tears.
"It's just a movie, mi amor."
"I know. Still... It's so damn awful knowing that parents like these exist. I couldn't help but imagine Gabi like that. And God... I swear I'd fight with teeth and claws for her."
Miguel chuckled, a bit sadly. The sudden image of him and you fighting over Gabriella and Benjamin surely didn't sit right on his chest.
"You know we are far from perfect, right? Marriage wise."
You nodded and clung to him once more.
"But know this. We'd never get to that, ok?"
"Promise?"
"Te lo prometo. You're stuck with me forever, cariño." (I promise)
His lips kissed your forehead.
"Besides, think it as a win for Maisie. She gets to have loving parents that truly look after her wellbeing and those cabrones will think twice before having a kid again."
"At least they know they're shitty parents."
"Cierto. But don't think too much about it." (True that)
He cradled you in his arms and caressed your hair.
"That movie is banned from this household"
Miguel chuckled and nodded.
"Need a glass of water or tissues?"
"Hold me?"
"Of course."
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princessbrunette · 2 months
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I think if you tried to bargain with bounty hunter!rafe by saying you’d do whatever he wants if he’ll just let you go, he’d think about it before getting all serious and looking down at you with a suggestive smirk “whatever I want, huh? ok, kid. lemme putta ring on that finger.. how bout that? how’s being my little housewife sound, huh?”
࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃
you’re held up in a barn. it wasn’t ideal, lord knows rafe knew that — much used to a finer life back where he lived with his fathers riches on the fat of his land, but for now it had to do. the two of you were laying low — the word being that someone had recognised your face off a missing poster that your father had put out, and now rafe had to make sure the two of you were far from anyone’s sight for a while.
“my fathers still looking for me.” you gaze wistfully out the window. so there was hope, you almost forgot that this could be an option after all this time. you’d grown slightly fond of rafe since he’d taken you, which you knew was wrong — but you couldn’t help it. he was a handsome guy, and he seemed to actually care about your safety. you knew this mentality was likely just a survival technique — you're less likely to go insane if you believe your captor cares for you instead of caring for the condition he delivers you in, but whatever helped soothe you.
"yeah, well…" he bites on his finger nail, leaning against the wall as he looks out the barn door he'd left ajar. "great for you, sucks for me. i do not want to get arrested, believe it or not." he sarks, his own nerves producing quite the attitude.
“you know if you just let me go you wouldn’t go to jail.” you try, and you knew it was a long shot but begging for your escape had become second nature by this point. you swivel, sitting on a hay bale with your legs swinging aimlessly, brushing down the dress he’d purchased you at the market when he decided you needed to change your clothes as to not be recognised.
he chuckles silently, shaking his head before finally turning to face you — arms crossed over his chest.
“yeah? you uh…” he shrugs theatrically. “you think i’d just let you go? just like that.”
“well what do you want?” you whine, huffing as you push yourself to stand, coming right up to him to stare up at him desperately. he stares back down, lips parted, amused. “i’ll do anything. anything you want.”
“anything i- okay.” he shakes his head, pushing his fingers stressfully against his eyelids for a moment as he paces before arriving back infront of you, blinking into thin air and slowly lowering his hand as if he’s had an idea. “anything i want? ‘s what you said, right?” he clarifies, and you falter a little— shrinking in size at the realisation of how broad ‘anything’ is.
“…yes?”
“alright so,” his hand strikes out suddenly grabbing a hold of your wrist making you jump, squealing and resisting from habit. “give me that shit.” he grits his teeth and you submit, allowing him to raise your hand, taking a look at your fingers. “yeah…yeah i can see it. i’m gonna put a ring on that little finger.”
“huh?” your eyes widen.
“‘said anything, right? so… so if i marry you, it’ll look like you just ran away with me and he’ll stop looking. god damnit i—” he laughs, rubbing a hand down his mouth.
“what about your boss?” you blink, unsure of this whole thing. he waves you off, walking past you.
“my uh, boss is my dad.” he itches his cheek, perhaps a little embarrassed of the fact. “‘said i could do whatever i wanted with you. your dad pissed my dad off, so— so i took you, right— that parts done, his little girl is gone, my dad wins.” he explains, finally filling you in on why the whole thing happened, you stare intently, following him over to where he rummages through the bags tied to the horse. “i was gonna bring you to my dad to show him… show him that i could do it, and that he could trust me… but this is better, yeah — this is way better.” he mutters, before pulling out a small piece of wire, a souvenir from what he’d originally bound your wrists with.
“yeah, this’ll do.” he speaks to himself before yanking your wrist again, beginning to bend the wire around your finger. “‘til i can get you a real ring, a’ight?” his brows raise and he cups your cheeks in his rough hands, eyes darting between yours. “you are going to make the prettiest little housewife. okay? y’gonna marry me?”
you figured this was better than whatever his boss, well — his dad would have done with you, like sell you or something, so you nod. plus, rafe wasn’t all too bad.
“okay.” you agree just about a whisper.
“okay?” he clarifies and you nod, so he forces his mouth against yours. “this is gonna save us.” he whispers when he pulls away.
࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃
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