#both of them got that taste of happiness. of that life they can never have. both of them got to be in love and indulge

[ginabaker1666]

This Is Always

From the Love Letter Series

Robert “Rosie” Rosenthal x Josephine Harris (OFC)

The holidays are usually a time to be spent together, cold noses warmed by the fire, and joyful cheers as the New Year approaches. This year, Rosie is struggling with being away from Jo, and acknowledging the future that he dreams of sharing with her. A heart to heart with Crosby helps put things into perspective for both of them.

Read Part 3 Here Follow along with the Love Letters Playlist

January 1944

My Dearest Jo,

Happy New Year, honey pie! It’s just after midnight here, and though I wanted to be the first person to wish you a Happy New Year, I know that by the time you get this, it will be after the fact. I guess by writing this now, while it’s still ‘43 back home, I’m letting myself be greedy in being the first to send you those wishes. I hope you’re doing something fun tonight, and getting all dolled up to paint the town red. Your last letter came just after Christmas, but I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you just how happy it made me to hear that you were still doing all of your usual Christmas favorites, even if I’m not home to carry all your shopping bags back to Brooklyn after a full day in the city. Believe me, I even miss doing that, no matter how heavy some of them are. 

I got Ma’s last letter just a few days before yours arrived, and she mentioned that you went by the house to celebrate Hanukkah with her and Jeanie. I know that made her really happy, and I can’t thank you enough for keeping an extra eye on both of them for me while I’m stuck over here. My sister would argue that she doesn’t need anyone keeping an eye on her, but I’m sure she appreciates your company, and will rub it in my face after the fact that she got to spend so much time with you. That’s what little sisters do, isn’t it? 

We had a small thing in the Officers Club for the holidays; nothing too fancy, but there was music, and some good liquor that someone managed to scrounge up for the occasion. The Red Cross Clubmobile girls pulled some resources and, even with rationing, managed to bake a few cookies for us. They were good, but they couldn't hold a candle to yours. 

I have never wanted one of your Christmas cookies more than after reading your letter, and to know that Jean Crosby took over as the official taste tester this year; oh it broke my heart darling. But, I’m glad to know that you two girls are keeping each other company, and I know that Croz is happy knowing that she’s not alone. I do hope you two aren’t causing too much trouble while we’re away. Knowing you the way that I do, I know that’s a bit of a pipe dream, but one of the reasons I adore you the way that I do. 

At the risk of sounding melancholy, I’ve spent most of today wishing I could take you dancing; spin you around until we’re both dizzy, until finally we can ring in the new year with champagne. Crowded on the dance floor at Minton’s, wrapped up in each other. Maybe it’s bold of me to ask, or maybe it’s the whiskey, but would you have allowed me a midnight kiss, Jo? I can’t picture kissing anyone else as the clock strikes twelve, nor do I want to, on this holiday or any other day. I hope that by next year, we'll be able to spend the evening together, and not have to send holiday wishes in letters that take too long to get there. 

I dream of you every night, sweetheart, and every night these sweet dreams end with a kiss before I’m pulled back to reality. I’ve been dreaming of the future, and if the real thing is anything like my dreams, I can’t wait for those days to begin. I wonder,do you dream of those days too? Of building a home together, a life that’s just ours. Living in the city, maybe somewhere near Harry and Jean. We could go to the pictures on Friday nights, and sleep in on Saturday’s, warm under the blankets until we peel ourselves from the sheets only because we need to make coffee. I’d spin you around the kitchen while we made breakfast, a record on the Victrola, the two of us tangled together while the eggs burned. The more I think about it, the more it all sounds like a dream come true. 

Maybe it is the whiskey talking, but it’s getting late here. Or early depending on how you look at it, and even though we aren’t flying tomorrow, I’m sure the rest of the fellas will be returning from the Officers Club soon enough. I’ll be dreaming of you tonight, sweetheart, and counting the days until we’re together again. 

Sending you millions of hugs and kisses, and all of my love. 

Yours for always

Robbie

Rosie took a deep breath, and without giving himself a chance to second guess anything in his letter, folded it up and slid it inside the envelope. He’d address it in the morning and drop it off at APO so that it went out with the next mail call; tonight it would remain on the nightstand next to his bed, with Jo’s photo. He was still in his uniform, not having bothered changing after he returned to the Officer’s hut, and was about to take advantage of the empty shower stall, when the door swung open and Harry walked in.

“Thought I’d find you in here.” Harry spoke, hand coming up to loosen his tie. 

“Yea, I uh, wanted to get a letter out to Jo,” Rosie signed, dragging his hand down his face. ‘Or at the very least, written.”

“It’s rough around the holidays isn’t it.” It wasn’t a question. Harry knew as well as he did, and he knew his friend was giving him an opening to get his feelings off his chest. 

“Probably the most difficult part of all this. We’ve spent every Christmas and Hanukkah together since we met.”

“She celebrates Hanukkah with you and your mom?”

“Jo is the best gift giver in our family, according to my sister.” Rosie grinned. 

“Sounds like your sister will be the disappointed one if you don’t put a ring on Jo’s finger when we get home.” Harry chuckled, dropping down onto his own bed, across from Rosie’s.

“She’d have to fight my Ma for the top spot, if I don’t marry Jo.” 

The two shared a quiet moment  as their thoughts drifted to a place far from England. Far from flak and casualties and torn fuselages. No thoughts of missing friends, mission counts or that damned red light never blinking off. 

Rosie knew that Harry understood better than anyone; how it felt to be so devoted to someone, and yet, he felt compelled to ask the one question that, if he had to wager, everyone asks at some point. 

“How’d you know Jean was the one?” He asked after a moment, gaze turned upward to meet that of his friend. 

“She wanted nothing to do with me when we met,” Harry balked so loudly that it seemed to echo off the walls of the Nissen Hut. “But I knew. I didn’t want to spend another day without her.”

“Just like that, huh?”

“Oh yeah, you just know,” Harry nodded. “When did you know Jo was the one? And don’t tell me you didn’t…”

“Let’s just say I should have opened my mouth a long time ago.”

“Well, better late than never.”

“What if I was too late, Croz?”

Harry stood from his bed, moving around the front to lean himself against the footboard. With a determined gaze, he made sure he had Rosie’s full attention before saying what was on his mind. 

“You can’t think like that. You need to believe you’re going home to her, that you two will have a life after all this.”

“God, I hope so.”

“I don’t know Jo as well as you do,” He started. “I only know what Jean tells me in her letters, but it sounds to me like she’s really something. And I’m not just saying that because she went out of her way to befriend my wife.”

“I told her I want a life with her, a future, our own place, Saturday mornings in bed, lazy days…”

“You want the dream.” Harry nodded in understanding. 

“Told her maybe we’d move to the city, leave Brooklyn, get a place near you and Jean.”

“Sounds like we’ll be in trouble if that happens, Jo and Jean a stone's throw away from each other?”

“I think the two of us are going to have our hands full when we get home, Croz.”

“I bet they’re saying the same thing about us,” Harry laughed. “And I wouldn’t blame Jean. I’ve been a real handful as of late.”

“Oh yea, you’re causing lots of trouble all the way over here.” Rosie chuckled, propping his legs up on the bed, feet hanging off the edge so as to not dirty the sheets. He didn’t miss the slight look of distress that flashed across his friend's face. 

He regarded him carefully; he looked like he had something on the tip of his tongue. His face looked worried, like he had something weighing him down exponentially, and Rosie would allow his friend the moment if he needed it. After all, it was the holiday’s and they were the best source of camaraderie that they had; friends should be there for each other. No one understood that better than he did. 

“No, I’ve been a handful…” Harry finally continued. 

“Croz?”

“Remember after Munster? When Harding sent me to Oxford?”

“Yea…”

“They double you up when you’re at those conferences, and my roommate, she-”

“Ah jeez, Croz…”

Harry sighed, dropping his head, too ashamed to look his friend in the eye. The moment had turned in the blink of an eye, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it, or get his friend through it. But he’d be damned if he didn’t try. 

“I don’t know how to tell Jean.”

“Is this why you kept disappearing up to London? To see her?”

“How do I tell my wife that I slept with another woman?”

“You just do, Croz.”

“That’s the worst possible thing to write in a letter. ‘Honey, I miss you terribly, by the way…’”

“Alright, I see your point. But you need to tell her.”

“This fucking war,” Harry sighed. “I swear, it peels the humanity right from your bones.”

“Then you fight it.”

“More than we already have? More than what we’ve given and lost?”

Rosie knew he was referring to Bubbles, and for a moment he let his mind wander to Nash, and that first mission to Bremen. It would be easy to fold; to pack it up and let the fight take from you more and more. But he would be damned if he’d let it take more from him, and if he had to fight a little extra to make sure it didn’t take any more from his friend, he’d do that too. 

“You’re not fighting it alone, Croz.”

“Feels like it most of the time.”

“And you’re fighting for something back home, even if you feel like you don’t deserve it at the moment.”

“I don't deserve her.” 

“Yea, you do. And you’ll tell her everything, whether you write it, or tell her when we get home. And Jo and I will be there for you both.”

Harry looked like he was about to respond when the door to the Officers Hut swung open. He turned, half expecting a replacement officer, but was surprised to see Blakely and Douglass, the former with a cigarette tucked behind his ear, and Douglass swinging a bottle of something in his left hand. 

“Nightcap, fellas?” Douglass lifted the bottle, and Rosie could just make out the label. Vat 69. 

“Where the hell did you get that, Dougie?” Harry’s eyes went wide at the familiar label from back home. A very expensive label. 

“Been saving it, so come on, let’s have a drink.”

“No, seriously, who’d you steal that from?” Rosie asked, watching as Blakely gathered four of the glasses the boys kept on their side tables for brushing their teeth. 

“I won it in a bet, if you must know.” Douglass grinned, pulling the wax seal from the neck of the bottle before pulling the cork out.

“The details are not of importance,” Blakely chimed in, swatting Rosie’s legs off the bed to take up the space next to him. “What is important is that we’re here, and alive, so stop asking questions and have a drink would ya?”

Douglass poured for the four of them, dropping himself down on the bed next to Rosie’s, while waiting for Harry to join them. 

“Any day now, Croz…” he groaned, glass between two fingers as he held it out for the navigator. “It’ll be ‘45 by the time you move.”

“Dougie… fuck off.” Harry stood with a laugh, brushing off his slacks before snatching the glass and taking the seat next to him. “And anyway, we’d all better be home by ‘45.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Blakely nodded, holding his glass up to cheers his friends, the only ones left that weren’t replacement crews, or trapped somewhere in the Stalag. 

The foursome sat silently as they sipped their prize whiskey, thoughts turned presumably to home and memories of Christmas and New Years’ spent with people they loved and missed. 

“Alright, what would you be doing if you were home right now?” Ev broke the silence, leaning his elbows on his knees, gaze landing on Harry. 

“His wife, dumbass.” Douglass chuckled. 

“Woah hey, none of that.” Rosie looked between the two, the rules immediately being put into place without having to say them. 

They didn’t talk like that, but he assumed it had been a bit too much whiskey already for Douglass, and with there no mission on the horizon for tomorrow, their guards were all down a bit. 

“Right, right, sorry Croz,” Douglass held his hands up in apology. “For real, what would you and Jean be doing if you were home?”

“We’d go out for dinner, but I think we’d probably be home for the bells,” he closed his eyes wistfully, and Rosie knew his friend was simply hoping that he’d be able to do that next year. “Dance in the living room, and yea, off to bed.”

Blakely nodded, reaching across to drop his hand to Crosby’s knee in a gesture of good faith, that he felt for him in a way, and was hoping he’d get that moment sooner rather than later. 

“What about you?” Ev turned to his right, finding Rosie sitting quietly. 

“What about me?” Rosie brought the glass to his lips, taking a small sip and letting the taste linger on his tongue a moment. 

“Would you and Josephine be out on the town?” Douglass asked, gesturing to the photo on Rosie’s side table. 

“Oh yea, we’d be at Minton’s, dancing until they kicked us out I’m sure.” Rosie laughed. 

“Together at the club then?”

“Every year we go dancing on New Years,” Rosie started. “Christmas and Hanukkah are for family, New Years is for friends.”

“She’s more than a friend.” Harry looked at him pointedly. 

“She is, and a fella can dream that she’ll say yes when I get home.”

Blakely, who had been pulling the cigarette from behind his ear to light it, fumbled, dropping it to the ground at Rosie’s confession. 

“You got a ring?!”

“No, but, that’s my second order of business once I’m back stateside.”

“And the first?”

“To kiss the hell out of her.” Rosie confessed. 

“Good man.” Blakely slapped him on the shoulder, a smile on his face. 

It was absolutely the whiskey talking this time, but he was among friends. The trust was insurmountable. Between the confessions that had taken place before Ev and Dougie had joined them, and the warmth flowing through his veins, Rosie lifted the glass to his lips to drain it, before standing from his place on the bed. Swiping the envelope from earlier, and a clean sheet of paper from the table, he glanced at his friends with a grin, and offered a two fingered salute. 

“Gentlemen, I’ll be back.”

“Where are you going! We still have more whiskey!” Douglass hollered after him. 

“Save it for another occasion!” Rosie called back as he pushed through the doors and out into the chilly January air. 

He walked until he found a spot under one of the lamp posts, the bench undoubtedly cold as he sat down, but he wouldn’t be out here for long. Just enough time, and privacy, to get the thoughts swarming around in his head out on the page before he lost his nerve. 

Pulling his pen from his breast pocket, he carefully let the paper rest on his thigh before he began scrawling his extra note. 

Hi Sweetheart, 

I know this is coming with no context but, I want you to know how much I adore you. I know I’ve said it in different ways, and a few times by now, but, I mean it. Truly, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m sorry it took me so long to say it. And to say it from thousands of miles away, with a war on no less. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to hit me once I’m back home. 

Just know that I’ll always, always, carry your heart with the most careful of hands. I’ll keep you safe, and treasure every moment we have together. Anything you want, it’s yours, Jo. A quiet life together, or a herd of children that jump on the bed on Sunday mornings. I’ll make sure you have it honey. 

Just know, I’m yours for however long you’ll have me, Josephine. I’m hoping for forever, but that’s a question for another day. 

I love you,

Robbie 

A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Rosie & Jo, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know!

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[family-tree-of-ships]

So, I’ve been thinking.

Buck has some seriously bad taste in girlfriends over the course of these glorious 6 seasons, before he decides to see if the other side can bring some light in. I mean, all of the women he has seriously dated had some strong likable qualities to them and they all wanted what’s best for Buck (I’m trying at my own share of optimism here). I think, from all of them, Abby was his most successful one (before it obviously crashed and burned and shattered his big wonderful heart). It had something none of the other ones had. Acceptance and honesty. Abby accepted his job, listened when Buck was caught up into his head about the stresses of the job. Buck accepted her problems with her mother and helped her through while she was alive and for a good time after she passed. Buck was honest with her, as she was with him. They had been through their fair share of trials and tribulations. Up until she left for Europe, I honestly liked them together.

Once they’re officially over, all the other relationships he has either miss one or the other.

Ali couldn’t get over the dangers Buck was open to while on the job.

Taylor fully accepted his job, even was honest and genuine with him at some point. Buck didn’t reciprocate either. He couldn’t get over her intense ambition for every new story she could use to her benefit (to which she obtained by breaching his trust, both when they first met and when they were well into their relationship). He wasn’t open with her, again, in many circumstances. Even cheated on her with Lucy, for whom he didn’t have any sort of feelings other than attraction. When you get drunk, the truth comes out. There’s no devil, just a complete lack of self-restraint. If Buck truly loved her, which we know he didn’t, since her answer to her confession was literally “Good.”, getting drunk should’ve confirmed his affections, not completely contradict them. Buck, seems like an affectionate and happy drunk, since that’s who he is. If he loved Taylor, we should’ve gotten a sequence in which he calls her and starts spitting dramatic declarations or even comes home to her because when you love someone, they’re your home. Your instinct is to go them, not kiss the next person you see. Then, he lies, once he gets to his apartment, after this ‘mistake’. And asks her to move in. Because he got nervous. He couldn’t be honest with her. When they found out, they brushed it off quickly, never to be mentioned again. As if they wore both scared. They break it off, eventually, after a story that should’ve remained private made the headlines. It was an important breach in trust, but it shouldn’t have been enough for Buck, considering how loyal he is (just look at how much he waited for Abby). But it didn’t need to be too much, since there wasn’t anything too significant or tethering between them to begin with.

Natalia was fascinated by his death, which was an instant message that this wasn’t going to last in any way, shape or form. Buck is also dishonest with her, about Lucy and his history with her, again. We can understand this, it shines a bad light on him if he confesses he has cheated before, but didn’t he say she sees him? Shouldn’t that bring out at least some kind of easiness into ending up saying the truth? Apparently not.

We can see why the majority dislike Buck’s choices in the women he dates long-term. Ali and Natalia never get fleshed out. Abby and Taylor do and you, as a watcher, can even sympathize with them, but they both end up really hurting Buck. So, what can you do? Settle for what the show gives you? Fandoms don’t do that, especially when they aren’t satisfied.

Okay, so who reaches those two requirements and is constantly present in Buck’s life, who is properly fleshed out? You guessed it.

Drumrolls, please.

Eddie.

Do we even have to talk about acceptance? Come on.

Eddie has been here since season 2. Through a near death experience, then another one, then a lawsuit and then another one (there’s a lot, enough to fill a whole card-based game). Buck has also had to suffer through two of those near-death meetings with Death that Eddie has had. They’ve fully had each other’s backs within the first 48 hours of meeting one another. Honesty between them is natural and that is expressed in a lot of scenes. To list a few, we have Eddie having panic attacks when he thinks of committing to Ana. He goes and talks about it with Buck and Bobby and then breaks it off with her. Secondly, when Eddie finds about the fates of his army friends and destroys his bedroom through a fit of rage brought on by helplessness and fear. A very vulnerable state to be in (let’s be honest, how many damn people have seen Eddie cry his eyes out?). Buck goes in, listens to him, gives him advice and we later see them both patching up his wrecked bedroom walls. Thirdly, we have Buck going to his house to get some reprieve from the constant worry his friends have for him, knowing that he won’t be pushed here, but comfortably accompanied. He falls asleep immediately (let’s ignore couch theory before I go bonkers). That’s both of them expressing vulnerability and raw honesty. More than they’ve done with any lover, no matter how fleshed out.

There’s clearly an answer here. We’re going to wait until they find it.

[martyrbat]

batman: son of the demon

[ID: three panels of Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul being in love (and horny) for each other. In the first one, Bruce is in their luxurious bedroom for the first time and is awkwardly standing in his costume as Talia is behind a dressing screen and is changing into a white, satin négligée with lace detailing on it. She reminds him that they technically are married (and that she consented readily to it) but Bruce confesses, “I remember. But it's hard for me to consider that marriage real.” Talia emerges from behind the screen, looking as beautiful as ever as she walks up to him and eases his cowl off. She tells him, “Beloved, you give too much thought to what is ‘real,’ and what is not, to what is ‘true,’ and what is ‘false...’ I realize that is your way, but just this once, accept things as they are...” He strips himself of his clothes as they move to the bed—Talia laying on her back as he's between her legs. She continues to speak, “Forego your control, your discipline... just once, let yourself go... and take me with you.” Her arms slip around his neck as they kiss passionately.

The second panel is lineart of them against a white background. They look at each other lovingly, her hands reaching up to be on his shoulders as he holds her waist. The narration boxes read: ‘While still finding time to be a newlywed, a role in which he is quite unskilled... but—to his delight—quickly learns.’

In the third panel, several weeks have past. Bruce and Ra's al Ghul are walking before Talia interrupts and asks her beloved for a word. Bruce starts to ask if it can wait, due to him and Ra's discussing an important mission but she tells him it cannot. Ra's reassures, “Go, detective, we shall speak of this later.” Bruce and Talia pull away to talk in private, the background a beautiful, bright ombré of red and yellows. She has her arms up on his shoulders as he holds her waist and starts to ask, “Now, Talia, what's so impor—” but she quickly shares, “Beloved, I am with child.” Bruce starts to repeat her but Talia already confirms again, “I am pregnant.” She continues to look up at him, patiently waiting for his response as Bruce stares straight ahead, obviously in shock. He slowly repeats the words back to her in an attempt to register them, “You're... pregnant?” Before he suddenly beams! He pulls her into a tight, close embrace as he excitedly announces, “That's wonderful!” Talia smiles at him and says, “Isn't it?” Before her father can shake Bruce's hand with his own warm smile. Bruce still holds Talia's hand as Ra's tells him, “Detective, Dr. Weltmann could not keep this from me. My congratulations.” END ID]

[ohbother2]

Okay….Adam sfw and nsfw headcanons? I cannot believe I have begun to simp after this trashbag DAMN YOU ALEX BRIGHTMAN-

I have an admission... I fucking love Adam pls keep sending Adam requests in I can't get enough of this man

Also, sorry I've been MIA, I've got a lot of deadlines coming up so updates will be more spaced out over the next few weeks :)

I love Adam but he's quite difficult to write, so pls lmk what you guys think! I tried to keep him in character! (This was far longer than planned lol I just love this man)

NSFW - Minors DNI

---

Adam x f!reader - General Headcannons

SFW

You'd been in heaven for many decades, possibly even centuries, before you had ever even entered Adam's radar

He was the 'original dick', as he liked to constantly remind everyone within shouting distance, and spent all of his time surrounded by the higher-ups of Heaven, attending meetings, court-hearings, and dealing with training his danger-tits army for the next extermination

It would take a lot to enter his radar, having to work your way into the correct circles, gain the right connections and attend the right events

But once you're in the circumference of society he haunts, you're on his radar immediately

He's a man with fine tastes, look at his previous wives, he has a type ("fucking bombshells" as he would describe them) and as soon as he sees you in his peripheral one afternoon he's zoned in and absolutely entranced

No one has ever said no to him before, so when you do, he's taken aback. Hiding his confusion and deep-rooted offence with a flippant comment "Oh, playing the hard to get game, babe? Lucky for you I fucking love the chase."

Inwardly, he's fucking fuming, why on earth would you reject him? Alas, he's sure he'll win you over eventually... right?

He's arrogant, he's cocky, he's a self-entitled piece of shit, but he's also determined, passionate, and is anything but a quitter

You will not know peace for months after your reject him

He'll storm into your office whenever he feels like it - which is whenever he has enough free time to do so - bugging you relentlessly as you try and finish your work. He never stops asking questions about you: your day, your hobbies, your love life, what're you doing after work tonight? He's free, he could take you somewhere nice, show you a real fun time

When you stop answering he starts bitching about his day to you, about the local gossip, about some Seraphim that pissed him off, about some bitch at the bar, which he could totally take you to, did he mention he was free tonight?

He doesn't just hound you at work, and you often find yourself coming to a screeching halt in the street and abruptly turning the other way when you spot his iconic mask - he's a tall man, his horns poking noticeably above the crowd as he tries to find any excuse to find and talk to you

When he gets really desperate, after months and months of unsuccessful attempts of gaining your attention, he finally turns to Lute with the all too familiar question "You're a woman, right? What do you-"

The advice she gives is not one he is happy to receive, 'stay away and tone it the fuck down', but he listens, ego taking a massive hit as he watches you carry on as normal

Funnily enough, you start to miss the annoying dick, and you begin to look forward to his far less frequent visits, which mainly consist of you both bumping into each other at work and making polite conversation

When he really can't take it anymore, and he happens to hear rumour about another man planning on asking you on a date, he practically breaks down your office door with a bouquet of flowers, thrusting them unhappily into your hands and asking incredibly politely for you to please go on a date with him

You're both surprised when you agree, and he can feel his face heating up beneath his mask as he whoops, calling a "I knew you'd come around babe, I'll pick you up at 8 tonight. Can't wait to see what you wear." over his shoulder as he bustles back out of your office, practically vibrating until he can tell Lute the news

He's 'The Original Man', and once you become his girl there is nothing he wouldn't do for you - he's constantly swinging by your office and pulling away the less important paperwork, commenting that he can get one of his workers to do it and freeing up time for you both to hang out; he's constantly flying through your balcony with bags of some new takeaway and chatting about this amazing new food place he found as he drops the heavy bags on your counter; someone causing you trouble? If he can't personally deal with it due to some 'relationship' he has to upkeep, he's sure to inform Lute who will have the situation handled before sunset that same day

Basically, he has authority in Heaven, and he's going to use that to make your life as easy as possible

Having a bad day? He can fix that. Oh, not in the mood for sex? Well, he's an amazing cuddle buddy, and he has the softest wings, let him just grab some snacks from the kitchen and then get ready for a night on the sofa wrapped in his strong arms and soft wings

His wings are insanely soft, and big, and despite his best efforts, no matter how long you've both been dating, they will flutter if he hasn't seen you in an extended amount of time, or if you're wearing something particular nice - he can't control it and it thoroughly ruins his bad-boy persona

You're the only other person beside Lute who he feels comfortable with letting preen his wings, and after you start officially dating he only comes to you with the issue, batting his eyelashes and pleading with you to 'take care of him'. You do, and he always breaks his promise not to 'make it weird' until you give him a firm smack on the back of his head - he's fallen asleep more times than you can count with your hands in his wings

He returns the favour, of course, and he sticks to his word like a gentleman, hands remaining firmly against your wings and not daring to wander. He's not a saint, however, and he will whisper less-than-holy things in your ear as he works - he'll stop if you don't play along, and finds himself enjoying the innocent intimacy of it. If you do play along? Oh, boy, his hands don't stay on your wings for long

He uses his wings a lot in his body language, and in your initial stages of courting he'll constantly puff them out to make him seem bigger, trying to impress you with his sheer size - embarrassingly for you, it works

PDA is not approved of in heaven, so he has to maintain his distance from you in public but that is a completely different matter in private

He will take every opportunity to touch you, innocently, whether that be a had on your jaw to bring your attention back to him or to guide your gaze wherever he wants you to look, a hand on your bicep to pull you this way and that, a large hand between your shoulder blades if you're being too slow

In public, completely subconsciously, whichever wing is closest to you will outstretch, barely noticeable to the majority of people, corralling you in closer to his side, and protecting you from whatever might happen - there's no danger in heaven, but still, he likes to know you're safe, and his wings reflect that desire

In private, he's constantly got a hand on you, oftentimes both, on your arms, your shoulders, your waist, the small of your back, your thighs, fucking anywhere - he likes having you on his chest on the sofa, and he finds it funny when he tries to do the same and crushes the air from your lungs

He loves when you cook and he can just stand behind you with his chin propped on your head or shoulder and his arms around your waist. You constantly have to tell him off for whispering foul things in your ear, but he quickly shuts up when you threaten to send him away, his grip tightening against you as he pouts playfully and watches silently

He will actively stretch out his wing when it's cold or windy or rainy, shielding you from the elements with his large wings and loving the excuse to pull you close. "What're they gonna say babe? I'm just keeping you dry."

The biggest difficulty in your domestic lives is the housework, he's an old fashioned man and he's never really had to do housework before. He's gotten better throughout your relationship, but he still absolutely hates washing dishes, but he'll happily sit in the kitchen and keep you company and talk mindlessly as he watches you work. He always thanks you with a kiss

If you ever make him do it, expect to be sat on the counter right next to him and no you cannot leave until he's done and yes you will listen to him complain the entire time and yes he will always slap your ass with a wet hand as payback, cackling as you yell half-heartedly

Deep down, incredibly deep, oceanic levels of deep, past the many many levels of crude jokes and brash humour, of over-compensating confidence and attempted witty one-liners, past the smirk and the puffed chest and the domineering presence, is a man who is cripplingly doubtful and insecure - two of his wives have left him for the same man, and he's absolutely terrified (but would rather burn in the fiery pits of hell than ever admit it) that it's going to happen again

He can seem rude and brash and uncaring, but he really is trying his best, and he's desperate to prove to you, in his own way, how much he really cares (He's scared to admit even to himself how much losing you would crush him)

Because of this, no event is ever half-assed - it's your birthday? He's got the biggest cake he can find and he's made some of his exterminators set up a surprise birthday party for you. It's your anniversary? He's pretending he's forgotten until the morning of and suddenly you've got a reservation at one of the nicest and most in-demand places in all of Heaven

"Come on, sugar," He'd reprimand you mockingly, shit-eating grin on his face at your excitement "you really thought I'd forget my special girl?"

He can doubt himself sometimes, worrying about your feelings for him, but he hides his insecurities whenever you catch him in deep-thought with some lame sex-joke

He doesn't ever want to talk about his insecurities, and he'll never outright tell you what he fears more than anything, but you pick up on it after enough time together

You don't pry, but you do card your hands through his hair when you see his eyes go particularly glossy one afternoon, pressing a kiss to his temple and scratching at his scalp, making your way slowly to his wings and back and taking your sweet time. He closes his eyes and listens to you ramble about your day, which eventually turns into you rambling about him, how handsome he is, how hard he works, and how much you love him and how you don't know what you'd do without him

He doesn't realise it, but you say just the rights things he needs for him to regain that pep in his step and for his cocky words to have more meaning behind them

NSFW

He's the Original Dick, and you'd hope he had the goods to back up the talk with the amount of bragging he does

He does; he does have the goods, and some would say he's being humble because what the fuck

He's the oldest human in history - he's seen it all, done it all twice, and he's more than willing to share some of his tricks with you

He's too proud and self-centred to ever let you have complete control, but when he's particularly lazy he'll let you go on top (as rare as this occasion is) but he'll still guide you as best as he can, lifting you easily with his strong arms and sweet-talking you with his sharp tongue

The first time you ever see him without his god-awful mask is during an intimate moment - you're first intimate moment, where you downright refused to continue if he didn't take the cursed thing off his face

Again, he's insecure, and it takes a lot of reassurance and just the right amount of kisses on his jaw and neck for him to be convinced that taking his mask off was worth it

He lets you look at him for several moments, and then he's had enough and he took his mask off for a fucking reason and he's pulling you into his lap and kissing you properly for the fist time

You can compliment him later, he has other things on his mind right now, the main one being fucking you until you can't even conjure a coherent thought

After that encounter he slowly takes his mask off in private with you more and more, learning to appreciate how nice it was to be able to kiss your temple and actually feel you against his lips, as well as how nice it was to feel your lips against his cheek

Still keeps the mask on sometimes, especially when you ask so nicely

He absolutely loves receiving head, resting back in his office chair or against the back of the sofa and letting you get to work, grunts and groans falling from his lips as his hands grip your hair tightly and guide you exactly how he wants you

He will give head as well, he's not selfish by any means, but he much prefers kissing you as you fall apart beneath him - for him, he'd much rather swallow your screams and mutter dirty things in your ear as he brings you to release

Be careful with his wings, especially when he lets you preen them - gentle touches can easily be misinterpreted as passionate caresses and before you know it you're pinned on your back with a red-faced and disheveled looking Adam hovering above you, muttering about how you're a "fucking tease" and if "you wanted it so bad all you had to do was ask, sugar. I'll never leave you wanting."

He knows the power of wings, and his heavy touches against your own when he needs to "Just sliding past babe, what's that fucking look for? Can't a man work?" are no accident. He loves getting you all wound up. He takes it as a personal challenge to do it in public, and his shit-eating grin remains the entire day before he's pressing you against the door of his office or your plush bed and muttering about how fucking needy you are.

He doesn't take being teased well, and he'll glare at you the entire time until he can do something about it - he'll have even less patience than usual, especially for people who aren't you, and often has to do damage-control after he's regained his bearings a few hours later

He's a big man, and he uses that to his full advantage, man-handling you with ease, positioning you exactly where he wants you, pinning both of your wrists easily with only one of his large hands, pushing your legs apart like butter

He can lift you easily, and he'll hold you against the wall, or countertop, or wherever the fuck you guys are, and he'll keep you there until he's done

Lute has walked in on you both far too many times, and she always hurtles back out of the door cursing at you both angrily

He likes pinning you beneath him, spreading his wings over your forms and completely shrouding you with his form - you're fucking his, and no one else will take that from him

He fucking loves dirty talk, and it's a challenge to get him to shut up - he'll carry on talking at you long after you're able to respond, and he'll just start talking about that instead: "Aw, look at you, can't even fucking say my name you're so fucking dumb for this c-"

As said before, he's insecure based on the way he lost his two previous wives and the reflects into the bedroom

If you do degrade him, he'll just challenge you, telling you you've obviously not learnt your fucking lesson and picking up the pace, desperate to prove he's the exact opposite of whatever had just spilled from your mouth - you'll pay for trying to goad him on, he won't relent until you're a babbling shaking mess, stuttering out apologies and taking back everything you had just dared to say to him

Any praise you offer him he absolutely laps up. Call him handsome, tell him your his, tell him there's no one else in the world who would ever compared to him, how good he's fucking you - he'll get so wrapped up in the praise he'll even stop talking, completely focussed on his task of making you feel good, making sure you know there's no one else who could give you what he does

Dig your hands into his wings and he becomes a groaning mess, and it'll only be a few seconds of you muttering those sweet praises in his ears and your nails digging into his wings before he's collapsing on top of you and panting raggedly, still trying to mutter out curses and praises through his gruff gasping

When he really loses control his wings will flap of their own accord, and you've had to completely clear your side tables because he kept accidentally smashing everything that was on them

He likes to rest afterwards, and he usually tries to encourage you into going another round.

He'll tug you into his sweaty side, pulling you half onto his chest as he breathes deeply, immediately asking if you enjoyed it, and when you agree, he'll always mutter something along the lines of "Of course you fucking did, it's me."

[astonmartinii]

friendship bracelets | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

charles' gf is beloved in the fandom for her love for frienship bracelets

yourusername

liked by arthurleclerc, charles_leclerc and 341,874 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: charles fell asleep mid craft session :(

view all comments

user3: she's everything, he's just ken

charles_leclerc: this is a false narrative, i was just resting my eyes and not allowing myself to distract you from your hard work

yourusername: i'd say you're a man of the people but your snoring is something else

charles_leclerc: I DO NOT SNORE TAKE THAT BACK

danielricciardo: i've taken enough flights with you charlie to confirm that you do in fact snore

charles_leclerc: i am being stabbed in the back so many times today you hate to see it

user4: i'm going to spa, guarantee me a friendship bracelet and i'll back you

charles_leclerc: done ✅

user4: charles marc herve perceval leclerc has factually NEVER snored in his entire life and any allegations that he has are both slanderous and libellous and you will be DEALT WITH IN A COURT OF LAW

yourusername: ummm what?

charles_leclerc: what colour bracelet do you want?

user5: what in the everloving fuck just happened?

lilymunhe: anyhow... y/n you are so sexy

yourusername: right back at you baby ;)

daniel3.jpeg

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 489,034 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, yourusername

daniel3.jpeg: this friendship bracelet business is serious stuff, also charles and y/n being gross as usual

view all comments

user6: fuck romeo and juliet i want what these bitches have

yourusername: daniel do not underestimate the power of the friendship bracelets

danielricciardo: oh i'm not doubting it i saw a girl ignore me, jump across the hood of my car just to get one

yourusername: i mean i'm pretty sure that girl broke a toe, i paid for her health insurance

landonorris: people are breaking toes for these things?

yourusername: it was not the intent on my behalf, i just wanted a sister/brotherhood among fans

user7: don't make them so cute then

charles_leclerc: what do you mean gross? daniel, can i not be happily in love?

danielricciardo: i am happy for you charles but if i have to hear you break out in a sonnet about the smell of y/n's perfume or the colour of her eyes i will pull my hair out

yourusername: what hair?

danielricciardo: ????

yourusername: sorry i admit that was a low blow from me

user8: is that charles taking a pic of y/n in the last one?

yourusername: yes my lovely lil photographer

f1

liked by maxverstappen1, scuderiaferrari and 1,403,874 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, yourusername

f1: make the friendship bracelets, take the moment and taste it, you've got no reason to be afraid ✨ y/n and charles arrived at spa this weekend with the friendship bracelets that are coveted by f1 fans!

view all comments

user11: all the loser men in this comment section making fun of these don't understand how much of a stan FLEX it is to have one of these

user12: no jokes if i see someone with one this weekend i'm offering them out on the spot

user13: i literally only put mine on after the race when i got home cause i was so scared it would get stolen

alexalbon: cringey faves

yourusername: are you still annoyed i ran out last race before you could get one?

alexalbon: why did lily get one before me :(((

lilymunhe: girlies first

yourusername: what lily said

user14: all jokes aside the whole friendship bracelet thing has been great for creating a sense of belonging for girls in this sport and i can't thank y/n enough for giving us something that is uniquely ours in f1

yourusername: that honestly makes me so so happy, girls get a tough ride in all sports, but esp in f1 and i wanted to find a way to bring us all together and i actually wanted to ask if the girls (and guys) wanted to start making our own and start exchanging them at races :)

f1: we back this !!

charles_leclerc: lift the jewellery ban so i can wear mine in the car

yourusername: i can't allow you to put that extra weight in the car the sf-23 needs all the help it can get

scuderiaferrari: :((((

user15: LOOOOOOOOOL

yourusername

liked by mickschumacher, charles_leclerc and 509,871 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: my heart is so full. first, charlie back on the podium where he deserves to be, i'm so proud my love, you'll be back to winning ways soon. second, MY GIRLS. words cannot express how happy i was to see you all exchanging bracelets and making new friends! i also received so many from you which will all go in my collection at home. safe journeys back and see you guys after the summer break.

view all comments

user16: it really is the summer of the girls and barbie

user17: i've literally never felt more included at a gp before, so many girls just introduced themselves to each other and i made so many new friends :))))

charles_leclerc: thank you cheri, i love you always

yourusername: you deserve everything my love

charles_leclerc: also thank you everyone for the friendship bracelets, we got given enough for the entire ferrari garage has one as well as everyone who worked in paddock club this weekend!! keep spreading the love <3

user18: never have i ever loved a couple more than these two

user19: i am allowing my parasocial relationship to go wild rn

danielricciardo: thank you for starting this y/n even if i thought it was a bit silly to start with but my arms are full and i'm FEELING the love

maxverstappen1: same here, p is enjoying all her new bracelets 🧡

charles_leclerc

liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 908,673 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: back on the podium - i'm very happy with that, the best way to go into the summer! thank you for all of your support ❤️

view all comments

user20: my king right there

user21: the rocketships don't count so p1 in my heart

yourusername: prince of monaco doing prince of monaco things

charles_leclerc: makes sense since you're my princess

landonorris: GAG

yourusername: let us be cute, be lonely on your own time

scuderiaferrari: proud of you charles

yourusername: build a better car i beg

user22: speaking for all of us

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,098,673 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: suprised her with a trip to paradise and she's still making friendship bracelets

view all comments

user23: they're both so sexy i can't

yourusername: i love you but you can't take the hobby out of the girl

user24: she loves us too much to stop now

yourusername: they're not wrong ....

charles_leclerc: you love me the most though, right?

yourusername: of course!!

user25: oh to be them

pierregasly: invite lost in the mail i see

charles_leclerc: literally the romantic trip you helped me plan?

pierregasly: i still i want you to take me for pasta dinners?

yourusername: back off frenchie

note: ENJOY, i kinda love this but let me know what you think - i am getting to requests but this popped into my head and i had to write it before i forgot

[bimbobaggins69]

first time for everything…

virgin eddie munson x experienced best friend reader

summary: Eddie has been in love with you since middle school. But he’d never admit it, no way, he’d never ruin what you two have… once he turns 18 he’s unwillingly drafted into the war while you go off to college in New York. Once the war is over Eddie is sent back to his mundane life in Hawkins and you move back when your grandmother gets sick. As fate has it, you and Eddie find your way back to each other.

warnings: smut ahead, mdni 18+, angst, late 60s—mid 70s au, fem reader, no y/n, pet names (princess, sweetheart etc.), mentions of slut shaming, reader is looking for love in all the wrong places, jealous!eddie, mentions of war, mentions of dying, Eddie has ptsd, mentions of a loved one having only months to live, loss of a family member, loss of virginity, unprotected p in v sex, cream pie, fluff fluff fluff.

authors note: thank you so much to the nonnie that requested this, I’m sure it’s so different from what you had in mind but I got very inspired after watching Forrest Gump. (this has a happy ending) Also, the timeline here vs the actual Vietnam war barely coincide… so ignore that please. Thank you to my loves @take-everything-you-can & @corrodedcorpses for beta reading! <3

wc: 8.1k

1966

“Hey, what are you doing sitting over here all alone?” A boyish voice calls out from behind where you’re seated; up against an old oak tree with just enough shade to allow you to read the words in your book.

Middle school was rough and you kept to yourself, being the new kid and all. Making friends in Bumsville, Indiana turns out was way harder than making friends in Phoenix. This town was far too small and with the way you’d dress and carry yourself, well… that was clarification enough that you didn’t belong. But that was okay, you didn’t want to belong in a place like this, anyway.

“Just reading.” Your small bashful voice is such a stark contrast to how you are at home, in a place of comfortability.

“Yeah, I see that… whatcha reading?” The mystery voice now no longer a mystery as he steps out from behind the tree, his worn and tattered converse step closer, causing you to look up, meeting a familiar set of brown doe eyes.

He wasn’t in your class but you had seen him a bunch, throughout the halls and at lunch.

He seemed to be the only interesting person in this hick town.

You pick your pink book up, allowing him to read the title, which he does out loud to himself.

“Valley of the dolls.” He says curiously. “What’s that about?”

The book looked far too girly for his taste, but as long as it gave him more reason to stand here and talk to you, he’d indulge.

“Wait, let me guess… something about dolls?” He smirks, while taking a seat on the fluffy grass, beside you.

“No actually, it’s about three best friends who live in New York, they’re struggling to get by so they decide to make their mark in show business, but shit just kind of spirals for them and well it’s not a very happy ending.” You fix your bookmark in place before closing it and placing it into your backpack.

“Oh, also ‘dolls’ is just another word for drugs.” You say with a shrug of your shoulders.

Eddie stays silent for a moment, before he looks over to you, hands nervously picking at the grass below him.

“Mmm, sounds interesting… guess it’s true what they say, not to judge a book by its cover.” He says with a shy smile.

1968

“Would you scoot over!” You screech, while shoving your elbow into the frizzy haired boy, practically sitting in your lap.

You and Eddie had been inseparable best friends, since that very interaction under the big oak tree. You were both immediately drawn to each other like a moth to a flame. He agreed, you seemed to be the only interesting thing in this hick town.

“It’s my couch, woman!” He screeches back, playfully pushing your head out of the way.

“Fine, I’ll just sit on the floor.” you scoff before scooting your butt down from the couch, plopping onto the scratchy brown carpet. You roll your eyes when Eddie decides to dramatically fling himself across the whole couch, as if he’s been waiting for you to move your ass this whole time, the jerk.

“Hey, did I tell you Billy asked me to go to the drive-in with him?” You say as your eyes remain on the television set, hand mindlessly grabbing for the popcorn bowl placed on the coffee table.

You miss the way Eddie visibly swallows, and the way his fists tighten on the material of his jeans.

“Um, no you didn’t.” He mumbles, as his longing eyes burn holes into the back of your head.

“Yeah, well he did.” You take a sip of your Pepsi, washing down the kernels of popcorn stuck to your tongue. “Do you think he’ll wanna go all the way?” You ask Eddie before taking another sip.

His eyes widen into saucers before he begins wiping his clammy palms against his clothed thighs.

You’d never talked about sex with Eddie, maybe about some girls he thought were cute and vice versa, but never sex.

Ahem, he clears his throat before he speaks. “I don’t know, but he’s a guy so I wouldn’t put it past him.” His doe eyes, usually so full of light now droop like one of those precious moments dolls.

He begs the universe for you not to look back at him, he knows as soon as you do you’ll be able to read him like a book.

You’ll know you’re breaking his heart.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’m ready though.” You say, before grabbing another handful of buttery popcorn.

“Then you shouldn’t do something you’re not ready for.” Eddie says with a deep breath of relief.

“But I mean, I kind of want to just get it over with, I don’t buy into the bullshit of ‘waiting for the right one’ it’s such horse shit, and is only a thing because of the patriarchy.”

Eddie so badly wants to say: I’m the right one, lose it to me.

But he could never put his heart out there like that, to inevitably be stomped on. He knows you’d never purposely break his heart, but he also knows he’s in love with someone that couldn’t possibly feel the same way for him, and that’s just something he has to live with.

Even if that means sitting on the sidelines while boys come and go. He knows he’ll always be your number one…well until you fall for some douchebag after high school and realize Eddie’s just your friend, and is eventually replaced when you decide to get married and have said douchebags, douchebag offspring.

But he’ll place that in a box in his mind to deal with later.

1970

You lost your virginity to Billy the night he took you to the drive in.

Those feelings of being wanted and loved, although just for that night sent you on a high you thought you’d never come down from.

Your freshman year, you went on lots of dates, slept with lots of undeserving guys and although those feelings never followed you home, you felt as though it was worth it to just feel them if even for 5 minutes.

You were playing a dangerous game, especially in a small town where word of your promiscuity would travel faster than a forest fire.

And although Eddie had begrudgingly heard the rumors in the locker room and in some of his classes, he never looked at you differently, never judged you.

He’d stick up for you every time, although that led to plenty instances of him getting the shit kicked out of him. He already had a target on his back, being the freak and all, but he didn’t care, no one was going to disrespect you, not in his presence, anyway.

His feelings never seemed to fade, his heart still beat for you no matter who you gave yourself to.

Of course Eddie wanted to be your first, but you were right, it is a social construct in order to make women more subservient to men, Eddie was a feminist afterall.

“Aw, did you wait here for me?” You ask as your hands clutch your trapper keeper to your chest.

Eddie was leant up against the brick wall of the school, the right sole of his shoe was flush against it, knee bent as his skin protruded from the hole in his jeans. A lit cigarette dangled from between his lips, a habit he had just picked up from an older boy that lived in the trailer across from him.

“Well duh, now that that asshole you were seeing isn’t driving you anymore, I thought we could walk together.” He mumbles before taking a puff of his spliff.

“You’re so sweet to me.” You smile before snatching the cigarette that now blazed between his ringed fingers, you take a quick inexperienced puff before passing it back.

He smirks while taking one last hit of his cigarette before tossing it to the floor and stomping it out for good measure under his beaten and written on converse. He’s glad the action has given him a chance to get a good look at you as you walk ahead of him, it was his favorite thing to do when you’d both go on mindless strolls.

“You look pretty today.” The compliment slipped so easily from his lips.

You turn around to meet his eye, walking backwards rather uncoordinatedly.

“You look pretty, too.” You say with a wink, before turning back around.

Eddie was none the wiser that day, when your face flushed for him the very first time.

1971

“Eddie! Put me down!” You shriek as you kick and flail, the water from the pool splashing around and creating tiny waves for the other swimmers.

“Never!” He says ironically before throwing you into the far end, his maniacal laugh can be heard from under water.

“You’re such a dick sometimes, Munson.” You say as you swim to the steps, hoisting yourself up and out of the community pool.

You’re in a little red bikini and the way your hips sway has Eddie mesmerized.

You sit on one of the lawn chairs, drying off under the beaming sun.

“Hey, is this seat taken?” Your eyes shoot open, falling on two round pools of honey.

“Um no, not at all.” You say as you give the boy a shy smile.

“I’m Steve.” He says as he takes a seat in the chair closest to you.

“Hi, Steve.” His name felt like sex on your tongue.

Eddie watched from the pool as you and Steve got acquainted, he wanted to punch himself for practically pushing you into the arms of another guy.

He couldn’t sit here and watch you laugh at this asshole's jokes, he had to get out of here.

1972

“Why am I so hard to love?” You cry out, mascara running down your face, as your head is placed in your best friend's lap.

“You’re not hard to love!” He says before tucking a piece of stray hair behind your ear, and thumbing a tear off the side of your cheek. “You just keep picking the worst douche canoes available.” He says with a small chuckle.

“I thought Steve was different, he really acted like he cared about me, ya know?” You sniffle as your manicured fingers play with the fringe of Eddie’s jeans.

“Yeah well, those jock assholes will tell you anything to get in your pants.” Eddie says with a tick of his jaw.

“You’re right, I should become celibate or something… I’m just so tired of letting these assholes take from me, without getting anything in return.” You murmur with another sniffle.

Eddie liked that idea, you being celibate.

For your own good, of course.

1973

“Oh my god! Can you believe we’ll be out of this shithole soon?” You eagerly say, as you walk up to your best friend's locker.

The glum look in his eyes does not go unnoticed by you.

“Hey Eddie, what's wrong?” Your eyes examine the slump of his shoulders and the bloodshot red in his eyes, although that could be from him smoking during lunch, but the puffiness underneath tells you otherwise.

He slammed his locker before making his way towards the double door exit, not even stopping to take a second look at your stunned face.

You run after him, launching yourself between Eddie and the door of his van.

“Eddie, talk to me, what happened?” The urgency in your voice makes his eyes begin to water, again.

“I got my draft letter yesterday after school, they’re sending me to fucking Vietnam.” His eyes don’t meet yours, they can’t or it’ll make this all so much worse.

“Eddie, I’m so sorry.” Your lip begins to quiver at the thought of Eddie in a foreign place, getting bombed and shot at. “Ed’s, I-I…” you’re not even sure what to say, how to make him feel better, you couldn’t even if you tried. For the first time since you’ve known him, you were unable to comfort him.

“I gotta go.” He says before smoothly stepping around you and getting into his van, his wheels peel off leaving tire tracks on the tarmac.

You knew Eddie wasn’t mad at you specifically, he was mad at the situation. You and him had talked about running off together and getting out of this podunk town so much it had become a common topic when you two would hang out. You had agreed to get an apartment, you’d go to college while he got a good paying job with his diploma. But that dream quickly went down the drain when he got his draft letter in the mail.

All he wanted was to be with you, wherever you both decided to fuck off to, but now you’d be going alone, and he’d be sent off to a war he could potentially die in.

Class of 73’

“Give it up for the class of 73’!” Principle Higgins shouted into the mic, sat on top of the wooden podium.

You and Eddie's eyes had met a handful of times during the ceremony and every time they did, a lump would form in your throat at the idea of this being it for you two.

Everyone clapped and whistled as you threw your green tasseled hat into the air with Eddie and the rest of your classmates.

You make your way into the crowd of parents and friends ready to congratulate their new graduates.

“Congratulations sweetheart.” Uncle Wayne says, while wrapping you up into a grizzly bear of a hug.

“Thanks Wayne.” You say with a bashful smile. “Where’s eddie?” Your eyes scan the crowd as you look for your favorite curly headed freak.

“Oh he’s around here somewhere.” Wayne softly smiles as he gives your back a small pat. “I'm gonna go talk to Ms. Duvall right over there. I’ll see you later, kid.” He says with one last heartfelt smile.

You nod your head in understanding before you go right back to scanning over the herd of people.

“Hey you.” The same voice from that day under the oak tree, calls out from behind you, well you had to admit it was a little more manly now.

You turn around quickly on your heel, eyes meeting your favorite pair.

“Hey.” You say with a bright smile, your heart begins beating a mile a minute, with feelings settling into your stomach that you weren’t quite ready to assess.

“We did it!” Eddie says before grabbing the back of your head, fingers sliding through your hair as he pulls you into a warm hug. The side of your face resting on his chest makes your stomach flutter so hard you think you might puke from the nervousness he’s is stirring within you.

These feelings were too new and they scared the shit out of you.

“So you ready for New York?” He asks with a melancholy smile.

“Honestly? No, not really.” You say muffled into his chest before you pull away to look at him.

You weren’t ready to start a life without your best friend.

“When do you leave?” His hand continues to slide through your hair, making your stomach flip upside down.

“In a couple days.” You murmur before swallowing hard, now unable to meet his eyes.

“You’ll have a good time, meet some cool people.” He’s trying to pretend his heart isn’t breaking but the look in his eyes is not lost on you, your heart is breaking too.

“I couldn’t ever meet anyone as cool as you.” You whisper as your glassy eyes now meet his.

He smiles albeit a weak one, but he wishes those words were true.

“You staying celibate through college?” He joked, giving your arm a little nudge.

“That’s the plan, but who knows.”

The implications set Eddie’s stomach ablaze in the most painful way.

If I don’t find someone, fall in love and replace you.

Fuck the government for choosing him to fight in a war he didn’t even believe in. He could’ve been getting ready to leave with you, maybe even get the chance to finally tell you how much he’s been in love with you ever since he sparked up a conversation under that big oak tree.

There was no way he could tell you that now, he’d hate himself forever if he knew there was any chance you could’ve been his for all these years. It’s too late for him now.

You had stayed with Eddie that night, your stomach was in absolute knots just thinking about leaving him, you needed one more night with him, if this was the last chance you’d get to ever see each other again, you needed it. Just for tonight.

You spent most of it in each other's arms, crying and replaying your favorite memories and then crying some more.

He had confided in you, told you that if he died while overseas he’d die a virgin.

Eddie was never open with you about girls that he was seeing, you had assumed he’d had sex with at least one. The shock on your face was enough to make him want to cower away in embarrassment.

You’d both thought about making love to each other that night. You so badly wanted to be his first, get to have him in that way before life ran its course, but you just couldn’t. You knew it would make leaving each other that much harder, and fuck was it already so hard.

1974

College in New York was chaotic to say the least, life was so fast paced, it had taken so long to get accustomed.

And with your new fast paced, busy life, it left it close to impossible to sit down and write letters.

You and Eddie hadn’t spoken in almost a year.

Then there was Brendon, a guy you had met in your economics class. He was nice, he treated you better than you’d ever been treated but it just never felt right. It was almost as if there was a wedge, something in between you two making it impossible for you to fall in love. Someone.

August of 75’

You had gotten a rather urgent call from your grandpa, glumly notifying you that your grandma was sick and only had months to live.

You’d taken the first flight out back to Hawkins.

Your grandparents were all you had, you couldn’t stay in New York knowing you’d never get to see your gram gram again.

You had worked so hard these past two years, but in the end you had decided family came first. You would take a year off from college if it was required, just to help your papa after gram passed.

Walking out of the airport and into the warm summer sun of Hawkins was bittersweet.

This is the first time you’d be here while Eddie wasn’t. There wasn’t a moment that passed where you didn’t think about him. You questioned whether he’d be mad that he didn’t hear from you after all this time, or even care at all.

More than anything you hoped he was okay.

You never kept up with the news and what was going on over there. It was too much, too real.

September of 75’

Your gram had passed three weeks after your arrival back in Hawkins, you had done your best to stay by her bedside as your papa got things arranged for her eventual funeral.

You were numb for the first couple days until you had eventually broken down and sobbed for a good hour and a half.

The thought of losing Eddie made the tears fall even harder. You loved your gram but you were in love with Eddie, you knew that now. If he didn’t make it, you didn’t know how you’d handle it. How you’d ever move on.

You could kick yourself for not writing to him, at least to ask if he was okay.

What if he thinks you don’t care about him now? You’d hope he’d understand that college was so busy for you.

21st of September 1975

Grams funeral had been lovely, a celebration of her life with her closest friends and loved ones.

The funeral house was a quaint little tudor style home. Her pictures had been displayed beautifully among a table of red roses.

You cried when the funeral director had closed her casket for good.

25th of September 1975

You had spent your morning and afternoon cleaning your grandparents house. Your papa left on a fishing trip, said he couldn’t be in this house any longer.

You understood how he must be feeling, stuck in a place that holds so many memories of you and the love of your life, that would be hard for anyone.

You decide to order a pizza and watch a movie after your warm shower.

You slip into a pink nightgown that sat just above your knees before making your way towards the bathroom to brush your hair and teeth. Just as you were flipping the light switch off and walking out into the hall the doorbell echoed throughout the house.

They sure do deliver pizza fast

You thought to yourself as you counted the money in your purse that had been sitting on the entry table.

“Wow, I just placed my order ten minutes—” the words die on your tongue as you swing the door open. Standing there on the front porch in a Black Sabbath shirt, blue jeans and shorter hair than you were used to, was Eddie.

Your Eddie.

He looked almost as stunned to see you, as you were to see him.

“Hey, I thought you’d be back in New York by now.” Eddie assumed as his eyes took in the expanse of your body.

“No, I uh I decided to stay.” You utter as you nervously play with the hem of your pink gown.

Your action pulls the dress up higher on your leg, exposing more of your upper thigh.

Eddie’s eyes shoot down to the area before looking back up at you.

“I came by to give my condolences to your grandfather.” He says with a sad smile.

“Oh yeah, he won’t be back for a couple days.” You respond, finally dropping your gown before smoothing it out with nervous hands.

“Well, my condolences to you.” He says with a far off look in his eyes.

This man standing here is so different from the Eddie you once knew. His posture is immaculate, his arm and legs stiff as stone and the brightness of his eyes now dull and almost nonexistent.

“Do you wanna come in? I ordered pizza and I was gonna watch a film.” You say with a hint of desperation.

“I uh, I shouldn’t. I should go.” Eddie says before he begins to walk away, he stops in his tracks and shoots a glance back at you.

“Why didn’t you write to me?” Eddie’s face is so stoic you can’t tell if he’s sad or just curious.

“I wanted to, Eddie. I was just so busy—” you begin but Eddie doesn’t want to hear anymore.

His black boots carry him back to his van. He can’t stand there and listen to how you’ve moved on, or had the time of your life in college and forgot about him.

2 days later

You had been beating yourself up for what felt like days.

He had every right to feel the way he did, to be mad and angry. You couldn’t blame him for that.

But you’d be damned if he didn’t at least know these feelings you’d been harboring for him.

You were both home now, nothing was holding you back from finally confessing to Eddie that he’s who you want.

You decide to bake a cherry pie, before getting ready and heading over to forest hills.

You would get on your knees and grovel if it meant Eddie would forgive you. Just because you didn’t write to him didn’t mean you didn’t think about him everyday. You couldn’t count how many nights you’d lay in bed touching yourself to thoughts of him, you hadn’t even gone all the way with Brendan, you couldn’t. Not with Eddie at the forefront of every thought you had.

You pull up to the familiar trailer, not much has changed aside from far less beer cans littering the ground.

You walk up the steps, pie in hand as you knock one, two, three times on the dingy white door.

“One sec.” A familiar voice calls out from the other side.

The door swings open, Eddie is standing there shirtless. The only article of clothing on his very toned and muscular body were his old Hawkins high gym shorts. You were pretty sure he’d never actually worn them in high school.

His face looks even more stunned than when he showed up on your doorstep a couple days ago.

“What are you doing here?” The look on his face was hard and impossible to read.

“Eddie, please just let me explain myself. Can I please come in and talk?” You held the pie out to him as if some kind of peace offering.

“Is it cherry?” He says with absolutely no emotion.

“It is.” You confirm

There’s a long pause before his voice gruffly retorts

“Fine.” He moves out of the doorway allowing you to walk through, your bodies barely rub together as you pass but shockwaves are sent throughout, you could feel them all the way down to your toes.

You set the pie down on the yellowing countertop.

Eddie digs in the cabinets for a knife, two plates and two forks.

The gesture makes you smile to yourself as you sit in the little two seater kitchenette.

Eddie cuts the pie, setting your plate in front of you, while he takes the seat closest to the telephone hanging on the wall.

“So go ahead…” Eddie says with a mouthful of your cherry pie.

“I’m so sorry Ed… I had almost no time for anything, New York is so fast paced and chaotic, I really had no time… but I thought about you constantly.” You admit as you lightly stab your pie with your fork.

“I thought about you, too.” Eddie whispers, your eyes find eachothers before he looks away, taking another bite of the pie. “This is really good, thank you.” He says with another mouthful.

Usually you would be disgusted by a man talking with his mouth full of food, but with Eddie you couldn’t help but find it endearing and cute.

“Yeah, it’s the least I could do.” You say before finally taking a bite of your own.

“So how have you been?” You were almost afraid to ask such a question, after everything he’s gone through, everything he’s had to see.

“I’ve been good, just getting back into the groove of being home, ya know.” He says with a smile that has yet to reach his eyes.

“Yeah, I do.” You murmur before standing up and walking to the sink to wash your crumb filled dish.

Once it’s dried and put away and you’ve repeatedly gone over the spiel in your head about how you want to confess your undying love to the man seated a couple feet away, you turn around, eyes meeting him as you realize his chocolate browns have been on you this whole time.

“Eddie, I need to tell you something…”

He stands from his seat, bringing his plate to the sink, carelessly dropping it in before he turns back to face you.

It’s like he’d grown a whole foot, he was towering over you now, looking down at you with those doe eyes you’d so often thought about.

“What do you need to tell me?” He whispers as he steps closer to you, his black boots kissing your brown wooden clogs.

The words almost die in your throat at his close proximity and how fast your heart is hammering in your chest. You wonder if it could be heard from his place in front of you, surely if he stepped any closer it would be.

“I’m in love with you, Eddie.” Your eyes dart across his handsome face meanwhile biting at your lip out of nervousness as you wait for him to say something, anything.

He exhales a deep breath as his shoulders drop into a relaxed state.

“Fuck,” he huffs before pulling you into a tight hug. “I’ve been in love with you since I met you, sweetheart.” His voice is muffled by your neck as he rests his head on your shoulder.

You pull away, grabbing his face with your small hands. You look him in the eyes before you begin speaking—

“I’m so sorry Eddie, I’m so sorry for everything. I should’ve known that you were it for me. It just took me a little longer, but I promise I’m here now.” Your foreheads meet as tears run down your cheek, “I’m here now.” You repeat.

“I love you so much, princess.” He whispers before he’s pulling you into a tender kiss, that soon grows more and more needy.

He slips his tongue into your mouth and they simultaneously glide together. You can taste the salt from the tears that have fallen onto both of your lips. It makes the kiss that more meaningful.

“You still celibate?” Eddie asks after breaking the kiss. His smirk tells you he’s joking, but you don’t care, you need him. You’ve waited too long for this.

“I didn’t have sex in college, not even once.” You admitted before kissing his lips again, “I’ve been waiting for you.” The longing look in Eddie’s eyes flash to something that could only be described as hunger.

Without another word, he’s picking you up by the back of your thighs, your legs instinctively wrap around his muscular hips. He’s so strong, the throbbing between your legs gets even worst at the thought of him fucking you just like this.

Eddie made his way down the hall to his old room, you took a glance around noticing most of his things in boxes meanwhile more of Wayne’s things have moved in.

“Are you moving?” You ask curiously.

“Yeah, I got my own place. I’m moving in tomorrow.” He says before softly throwing you on his mattress. “Wayne sorted it out for me while I was…away.” You notice the stiffening of his body immediately, as if even thinking about where he’d been causes such inner turmoil.

“C’mere baby.” You murmur with a saccharine grin, his eyes light up at the pet name, causing your insides to flutter.

He slots himself between your legs, his muscular arms now fisting the bed while your head lays caged between them.

You can feel the way his body slightly trembles.

“It’s okay Ed’s, it’s just me.” You whisper into his ear sending shivers down his spine.

“Just you is a big deal to me, sweetheart.” He smiles before rubbing the tip of his nose against yours.

“I want you to make love to me, Eddie.” You say as you push his shorter hair back to get a better look at the face you've missed for far too long.

He groans before dropping his head to your shoulder.

“Fuck, I want to baby, I really do. But I-I have no idea what I’m doing and you’re you, ya know? I’m gonna make a fool out of myself, and I just can’t do that, not with you.” He lifts his head up to study your face before he begins gently rubbing his nose on your cheek, he places light kisses to the area before he places a sweet kiss to your lips.

“I don’t care, I want you… you don’t even have to do anything, I’ll do it all.” You say before placing kisses of your own across his face. “I need you, Eddie… I’m so wet for you, baby.”

“Jesus, you tryna kill me, woman?” He playfully snarks before blowing a raspberry into the side of your neck making you giggle and squirm away. “Okay yeah, I'm ready.” He admits as his beautiful doe eyes meet yours, he holds your chin between two fingers before sweetly kissing you, again. “I’m so glad it’s with you, sweet girl.” He whispers into your lips.

“I love you.” You whisper back

“I love you.” He feels like he’s in a dream, like one wrong move and you’ll slip through his finger, again.

“Lay on your back.” You bashfully demand, you weren’t used to being the one in charge when having sex, but for Eddie you’d do anything.

Eddie gives you a pointed look as his eyebrows raise high on his half concealed forehead.

Your feet hit the brown scratchy carpet before you’re turning around to give Eddie a little show.

Maybe stripping for him will give him a little more confidence, or it’ll probably just make him really horny… either way was fine with you.

Eddie continues gawking at you in wonder, still a little clueless as to what you were doing.

Such an innocent boy.

You begin to remove your blue jean button up vest, slowly unhooking each one by one.

Eddie catches on after the first button, a devious smirk slowly forms onto his face as he lays back with his head on the pillow. He dramatically swings his hands behind his head and crosses his legs as he enjoys the show.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this, sweetheart.” He beams with a wink.

You finally get down to the fifth button before slowly opening it and exposing your bare breast to him.

His eyes widen with shock and his body stiffens along with the member in his gym shorts.

“Holy shit.” He whispers before sitting up to get a better view. “You weren’t wearing a bra this whole time?” His cheeks burn with excitement and nervousness. He flicks his tongue out to wet his pink plump lips before beckoning you closer to him.

You step between his spread legs and look down as Eddie is now eye level with your tits.

He’s only seen boobs in magazines and movies but yours are by far the best. He had a feeling when he used to watch you in that red bikini when you both would hit the community pool during the scorching summers that they were nice. He remembers the way your nipples would poke through the fabric and the way they’d bounce when you’d run away from him.

“Can I touch you?” Eddie asks as if you didn’t just beg him to fuck you.

“Of course.” You purr back.

Eddie quickly brings both hands to your tits gently massaging them before running a calloused thumb over the hardening bud. The action forces a moan from between your lips making Eddie’s eyes shoot up to yours. He wants to pull that noise from you as much as he can.

“That feel good?” He breathily asks as if he can’t believe you’re letting him touch you like this.

“Feels really good, ed.” you whimper before he’s grazing his other thumb across your peaked nipple making an even more erotic moan leave you.

Your body slightly jerks when you feel Eddie’s wet lips encapsulate your nipple, you look down to see he is already looking at you, looking at your reaction to the way he’s making you feel.

Your eyebrows furrow as you vigorously bite at your lip. The sight in front of you is a scene straight out of your wet dreams, the wet dreams that would play on an instant loop in your twin size bed in your muggy dorm room across from your god fearing roommate.

Eddie continues to lick and suck as his confidence grows, every thrash of his tongue sends a searing shock of electricity to your cunt.

You need him now.

“Lay back for me Eddie baby, let me finish the show.” You whisper as your nails softly scrape against his scalp making him groan with his mouth full, he pulls off with a pop leaving your nipples peaked and cold from the wetness.

“Yes ma’am.” He snickers before scooting back to lay in his previous position.

You completely remove the vest from your body, throwing it towards the end of the bed but it slips off and onto the floor.

You’ll worry about that later.

You begin making work at removing your matching blue jean bell bottoms, slowly inching them down your legs as teasingly as possible for the flustered man who lays just inches from you.

Once your jeans are around your ankles, you make hasty work at removing them before kicking them off somewhere to be dealt with later.

You stand there in your pink cotton panties as Eddie’s eyes travel along your body. He adjusts himself in his shorts before his eyes fall to your last garment of clothing and then back up to meet yours. You know exactly what he’s asking.

So you shove your thumbs in the cotton fabric and remove them albeit much faster than your jeans.

You stand upright before kicking your panties towards where your jeans haphazardly lay.

Once you’re fully exposed to Eddie he darts up on his elbows as his eyes take in every inch; from the patch of hair between your thighs to the soft skin of your legs to the way your hips curve. His aloof disposition is such a stark contrast to the way he’s losing his fucking mind on the inside; he’s on cloud nine, he’s thanking a god he doesn’t even believe in for allowing him to be here and alive for this moment, a moment he’s thought about way too often.

You slowly saunter up to the foot of the bed, ready to straddle Eddie’s lap before he’s placing his hand out to stop you. “There’s no fucking way I’m lasting more than thirty second if you’re on top.” He huffs with a self deprecating smile.

“That’s okay, we can go again later…you’ll eventually learn how to hold it, it’s really not a big deal plus this is about you anyway.” You smile reassuringly before he nods his head for you to continue.

The way you said ‘we can go again later’ alone almost made him cum, so he knows he doesn’t have a fighting chance in hell to last while you're bouncing all pretty on his cock.

Nevertheless, you straddle his waist, the hardness in his shorts already hitting your exposed clit so nicely, you couldn’t help but whine.

“Fuck, this is almost too much.” Eddie whispers before his hands shoot down to your waist as you give his lap an experimental drag of your core, along the soft cotton of his shorts.

“Are you sure about that?” You smirk before your hands fall to his painfully hard cock that is far too clothed for your liking.

You sit back on his thighs, dragging the material down his legs. He begins thrashing around trying to kick them off so desperately, you can’t help but to giggle.

“Oh is that funny?” He says in a stern voice that has you clenching around nothing. You definitely want to dive into that Eddie in the future.

Or right now.

“No, sir. I’m sorry.” You pout with a swift bat of your lashes.

Eddie’s jaw tightens at your words, he doesn’t know why that is turning him on so much but Jesus Christ, is it.

Finally, you look down to where Eddie’s cock lays against his lower stomach. He’s way bigger than you expected and so pretty, the prettiest one you’ve ever seen.

It twitches before your hand slowly moves in to grab it.

“Do you think you could last if I got a little taste of this perfect cock?” You whisper into Eddie’s ear, making the skin there tinge a reddish pink.

“I can barely last with your hand wrapped around me, baby.” He groans in pleasure.

“Okay, we’ll save that for later, too.” You wink, before you spit in the palm of your hand bringing the glob to Eddie’s cock as you stroke him, getting him nice and wet to easily slip inside of you.

“Oh my fuck-” Eddie grits before his eyes snap shut, the skin around them wrinkling as he tries to think of anything but your spit on his dick, as you rub him so expertly.

“I’m gonna put it in now, Ed…you ready?” You ask before he’s rapidly nodding his head, his eyes still held tightly shut.

You lift up, rubbing his wet tip against your already soaked pussy before it begins to breach your hole.

“Oooh fuck.” Eddie whimpers.

You begin to inch your way down slowly so as not to overwhelm him. You’re trying not to go too fast, too soon.

Eddie brings the back of his hand to his mouth and begins biting on the skin as a distraction to what’s going on in his lap. He still can’t look down, or it’ll all be over before it begins.

You finally sink all the way down to the hilt, which has Eddie whimpering and cursing below you.

You study his face and how in pain he looks.

“Hey, do you need me to stop?” His eyes shoot open at your question.

“Don’t you dare fucking stop.” Eddie huffs as if he’s out of breath. “Please baby, please keep going…you just feel so fucking amazing and I’m trying here, I’m really fucking trying.” His eyes quickly shut, again.

“Ed’s, open your eyes for me…you’re doing so good, just look at me please?” You murmur as you move closer to his face, rubbing at his scalp like you know he likes.

“I can’t.” He whispers.

“Yes, you can.. just look at me, wanna see you when you cum.” That pulls a growl from the back of his throat.

His eyes slowly open as he takes in the sight of you stuffed full of his cock. You begin to move, slowly grinding before you’re bouncing your hips up and down on him. Your tits jiggle with every move and now it’s like he can’t take his eyes off of you.

Your movements get even faster as you lean down to capture his lips with yours. It’s so sloppy and spit filled, making you clench around him. He gasps into the kiss before his hands are moving down to grab at the soft flesh of your ass.

He begins snapping his hips up to meet your movements, making him hit that spot so perfectly.

“Oh my god…right there.” You moan as your face falls in between his neck and jaw.

You begin to whimper as your unexpected orgasm washes over your body. Eddie doesn’t quite know what’s happening but he physically cannot hold on any longer.

“Oh shit, shit- I’m gonna cum.” His head falls back into his stain filled pillow, he bites his lip so hard he’s almost positive he’s breaking skin, before a groan so deep it almost scares him, leaves his mouth. He wonders if he should feel embarrassed but the proud look in your eyes tells him otherwise.

He didn’t even get a chance to ask you where he could cum, he just filled you up without even thinking. That thought made his dick twitch even though it was beginning to soften.

“You did so good, baby.” You coo before allowing him to slowly slide out of you.

Some of his cum falls out of you and onto his spent cock, making his cheeks redden in what you could only assume is embarrassment.

“It’s okay, I’m doing this new trial of this birth control pill that just came out. It's supposed to lessen cramps during that time of the month but it also helps to prevent pregnancy… so we should be good.” You say before giving him a peck on his bruised lips.

You make your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up before bringing a wet washcloth to clean Eddie, too.

His hips jerk when the rag touches him, making you giggle as he tries and fails to hide his bashful face from you.

You find it so cute how shy he’s being. You’ve never seen shy Eddie before, so this is a nice contrast.

He scoots over, making room for you to lay next to him, which you do after setting the cum filled rag on his night stand to be disposed of later.

“You’re fucking incredible, did you know that?” He asks before scooping you up in his arms and moving you closer to him. His arms wrap around your waist as his head burrows into your chest.

“Are you sure you're okay, Eddie?” You softly ask, not sure you want to breach the topic after you two have finally consummated your relationship.

“Of course I’m okay, why do you ask?” He looks up at you curiously, as if he’s surprised you’ve been able to read him so well. Although you always have been good at that.

“You just seem…different.” You whisper the last part before you feel him slightly tense.

“I’m-I just seen some shit, ya know? And it’s kind of hard to go back to your everyday life after witnessing some of the most horrific shit imaginable.” He can’t look you in your eyes when he speaks, he doesn’t want to see the pity that so often lies beneath the sympathy people have recently given him.

���I get that baby, I do…and I’m here, every step of the way, okay? Whatever you need, we'll do it.” You purr as your nails gently graze his back.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You whisper into his hair before you’re both falling into a post sex sleep haze.

October 1977

“Eddie, slow down.” You snort as your boyfriend eagerly speeds down Cherry lane, too excited to get to his mystery destination.

“Where are you taking me?” You ask, studying his face for any clues.

“You’ll see, just have some patience, baby.” He knowingly smirks, amused by your uncertainty.

Soon enough, you're pulling up to a light yellow single story house. It’s quite cute, with pink trim on the windows and flower boxes that sit on each window seal.

The grass looks like it’s been very taken care of, it’s almost too green.

Eddie flies to your side, opening your door for you.

You hesitantly step out, your black flats crunching on the orange and brown leaf riddled sidewalk. You’re still wondering where the hell he’s taking you or to who?

“Do you like it?” He asks with a beaming smile as his hand runs through his freshly grown out mane.

“I mean yeah… it’s nice.” You scoff, “who lives here?” You study the house again before looking over to Eddie for an answer.

“We do, sweetheart.” He gleams as he dangles a set of keys in his right hand, a huge satisfied smile adorns his face at your shocked expression.

“This is ours?” You blink at him as if maybe you’ve misunderstood. “Like, you bought it?” Eddie’s face just gets more and more excited with every fleeting moment you stand there in shock.

“Yes, we bought it.” He laughs before throwing the keys towards you. “Go check it out, baby.” You quickly catch the keys and make your way inside, body moving on autopilot as you’re still in shock.

As you look around you notice it’s a charming 1960’s styled, three bedroom house.

You stand in the doorway of the smallest room.

‘It’s perfect’ you whisper to yourself.

“That’ll be the nursery for babygirl.” Eddie says, sauntering up behind you to rub at your growing belly. “Do you like it?” He asks with a proud smile.

“I love it Ed’s, you did so good.” You fervidly muse.

“Let’s check out the backyard, I have another surprise for you out there.” He says before intertwining his fingers with yours and walking you through the house to the beautiful twin doors that lead you to an even more beautiful backyard.

Your eyes take in everything as you stand on the deck, this place is almost too perfect. You’re ready to pinch yourself cause you’re so sure you’re dreaming.

You look around and see a vegetable garden, next to that are gorgeous flower bushes. Whoever lived here before really loved this place as it was treated with the utmost care.

Your eyes continue to scan the yard before it catches on something that causes your eyes to water and your breath to hitch, it’s a big oak tree identical to the one you and Eddie met under.

But that’s not all, Eddie is underneath it on one knee, with a red box in his hand. The tears fall as you walk closer. Yes, this has to be a dream, there is no way this is my life, it’s too perfect.

Once you’re standing in front of your weeping future husband, you realize the ring he’s holding was your gram’s, a beautiful vintage opal.

You remember holding her hand as a kid and playing with it. You’d tell her how much you wanted one just like it, so you could be twins. You sob into your hand at the memory.

“Will you marry me, sweetheart?”

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Okay, so in one of the comments that you replied to in your “gold rush AU! Konig”, you stated that she’s heads over heels in love with him, but apparently hasn’t shown/told him yet. And even though he believes that she doesn’t love him, he’s still so in love with her and just wants to make her happy. (That has got to pull at her heartstrings because this odd but kind man simply just loves her.)

Would you be willing to do a next part? Showing that she was just resisting what she knew along and that was that she does love and only wants him. Because although he went about marrying her immediately instead of taking the time to get to know each other and even though he’s from an European background, who is a giant with an accent and working to hit gold to support her financially, he’s still been nothing but kind, loving, and can apparently rock her world in bed! (Basically she was resisting in giving in into admitting she loves him because she had this WHOLE mindset/vision about how it was ALL gonna go down but since it didn’t go the way she thought it would, she was resisting his love for the “fairytale” version she wanted.)

Eventually she finally confesses that she does love him but had to get to that conclusion slowly on her own terms. This of course makes him so happy and he feels so blessed to gain his wife’s love; he once again promises that he will do everything in his powers to ensure she’s happy for all the rest of the days of her life. Which he does because some time later he hits it big in gold which lets him upgrade the “shack” they’re living in to convert it into an actual home for them to spend the rest of their lives together (with future children).

And he asks her of what she wants him to buy for her since he can afford to get it for her, only for her to ask for a new and bigger (so he fits comfortably) reinforced bed; because she wants him to be able to rest properly in a comfortable bed AND she doesn’t want to hear it creak as he plows her into nirvana/heaven. This of course causes him to blue screen but once he reboots his brain, he promises that he’ll get the best bed that will not only support their nightly activities but be very comfortable for both of them.

It’s only once they get the new bed and use/“break it in”/“christen” it for the first time does he finally gets her pregnant on that first night.

Oh, your writings are just so good! 😊

Oh I love the bed scenario and König wanting to spoil her and the story about how he got her pregnant for the first time (you can’t tell me these two won’t have a small flock of annoying little kids running around eventually) so much! 😭💞

And I actually wrote a little something for this because people were putting me in jail for the roaring angst of the 1st part so here’s how these silly pookies got to their happily ever after:

Our pompous little mail order bride is, in fact, so in love with König that it’s not even funny.

It's so bad that she looks out the window and sighs as she waits for him to come home... Scoots away the minute she catches him in the horizon, of course. She has better things to do than wait by the window sill like some wanton prostitute!

She whimpers like one, however, when the door slams shut and her husband comes to grope her from behind, telling her he wants to take her on the table (there’s food there and they were supposed to eat first, what a horrible man!) Not to talk of getting wet just from the sight of him looming over her, she has no objections with getting spread on the sturdy planks for taking. She should probably be thankful that the dinner table is made of solid wood and is not some delicate piece hauled here from Europe because it could never take the brute force of König’s advances...

After they're both sated and done, he dares to dip his finger in one of the cast iron pots filled to the brim with stew. Has a taste while still inside her, only chuckles to himself when she furrows her brows from how uncivilised he is. What kind of a man barges in his home like a burglar, takes his wife on the table, then tastes the hearty stew like it’s only normal for a man to be hungry after plowing his lady until they're both shaking? Even the bed is about to break at night, these pieces of furniture have done nothing wrong to this man and yet he treats them like they're nothing but disposable bits of wood.

His lack of manners never ceases to astonish her; he even tries to give her a taste of the food too, and laughs when she pushes him away and straightens her skirts, how is she supposed to walk around with his seed running down her thighs? All the pretty things he got her from town are in need of a wash already, but she still hums a soft happy tune while looking at her reflection in the mirror, donning the pretty hat he just brought her along with coffee and flour. (She thinks he can’t hear or see her being visibly happy, but König takes mental notes every time her eyes shine a little brighter from his gifts. She's not lacking anything, that's for sure, and isn’t it nice that he remembered how she looked at that silly little hat when they walked by her favorite store…? Anything his princess wants, she shall have!)

Years and years of lonely digging in this harsh land far away from home have made her husband think that no woman could ever want him unless he buys their love, and she does enjoy the pretty little frills he brings her as offerings. But what would kill her is if he knew she had actual feelings for him… This was supposed to be an arrangement, a marriage between two adults, not a romantic passionate affair! That sort of thing only happens in books, that's the first thing she learned when she came here.

He should have courted her properly first, but now it's all ruined, there's no excitement and intensity... Except that her heart is always hammering in her chest, she feels like a trapped bird flitting inside her corset. She's always flustered when he goes under her skirts, her chest is about to collapse in on itself when she sees him flash a smile her way, carry her more silk and demurely apologize that the wrappings are dirty because of his hands, kiss her neck after copulation like it's the holiest place on earth...

And God Almighty, what would this man think of her if she confessed her love to him? He would probably laugh and think she’s a harlot who’s in desperate need of his cock, that she's indecent and impure…

Luckily, the brute is so stupid that he doesn’t see the way his little princess–as he now calls her–looks up at him when he traces her bottom lip with his thumb. She’s relatively sure he doesn’t notice the tiny gasps just before she comes, the helpless, adoring stares she shoots at him right after, because that glassy, worshipping stare of his own is only born of lust, that’s for sure.

He can’t see her figure flash in the window when he’s walking towards home, she’s made sure of that…

Or has she?

The man is dumb, but he’s not a total simpleton, even if his eternal sadness is slowly turning into a teasing, an even hungrier form of love. She fears he will simply devour her one of these days if he knew how deeply in love with him she is as well...

And she fears herself even more than she fears him. Didn’t the priest warn about exactly this kind of simple-minded, wanton lust in his last sermon? She was always taught that marriage is supposed to be about companionship and genial living together, not about sweaty, toe curling, mind numbing copulation.

They’re fornicating like animals in the little shack she has grown so fond of, shy to the changes he’s talking about every day since he struck some large gold vein. He openly fantasizes about getting them a large house, a small manor, even, and she knows it’s all just for her because this man is content with very little… So little, that he accepts any small crumb of affection she gives him like it’s an entire rain of manna from heaven.

And it’s only because she’s ashamed that she can’t show her true feelings for him. The gentlemen of the city now feel like fancy peacocks compared to this burly man who’s not afraid to get his hands dirty and his dick wet. Those men look delicate and boring and ridiculous next to the hairy giant who’s forearms she stares in the evenings like they’re her own personal cancan show.

It’s crazy, how she looks at him like he’s nothing but a piece of meat – are women even supposed to feel this way? She should say her prayers, because her foreign husband looks like a god while sharpening his ax by the fire, with slow, deliberate movements, the trembling hands finding a smooth, strong dance only when they’re wielding a pickaxe or a whetstone or a knife.

He catches her staring once, her frightful stare big and helpless in the flickering flames, and he gives her a sad, longing smile in return.

“I’m sorry, princess,” he gruffs softly. “Ich weiss… I know I should shave...”

Her head gives an involuntary shake, minimal and shy, because she doesn’t want him to shave. She adores that coarse stubble that leaves her skin red and irritated, she loves how he looks when he has so much going on in his life that he doesn’t have time to groom himself.

“No…?” He asks hesitantly, straightening a little on the chair that’s really only a piece of log. “You like it like this...?”

She nods. Shyly again, and just once, while her eyes drift on his lips.

It’s intimate, how the silence envelops them with both tension and grace. It’s all she can give right now, and he knows it, knows also that this whole exchange is basically a love confession. Her affection, her want, her dedication and surrender soar and swell all at once, and he can see it... All of it.

He rises, and abandons the ax, his softening stare never leaving hers. He walks to her like a gentleman, like he's Mr. Rochester himself, like she was Ms. Eyre – although she doesn’t want to be Jane Eyre and she doesn’t want him to be a dark, handsome gentleman. She wants him to be just as he is, the stranger from the North who works hard and loves even harder, who picks her up like she’s an angel and not a lady.

“Let’s get you to bed, hmm?”

His gaze is so soft, it’s starting to relax into some knowledge she has in her foolishness betrayed.

But it’s alright… Everything’s just as it should be.

She wraps her hands around his neck and whispers, “Yes,” and the smile that tugs at his lips finally melts into one of those I knew it smiles he sometimes wears when he brings her something nice from the town.

He doesn’t push her to reveal more information about how much she loves his stubble, but he does make her scream it out into the warm cottage air as he goes down between her legs. She doesn’t want to know what the local priest would say about this: a man making his mark on the insides of her thighs with that scraping beard, how he makes her core throb with his ever-hungry mouth. She doesn’t even care.

It’s a paradise and an inferno, where he’s sending her to, and who knew a brutish digger from some distant land could suddenly be so eloquent with his tongue? Who knew a man could do things like these to a woman...? Who knew married life could be like this?

“You liked that, didn’t you, princess,” he asks when he’s done with her, and holds her surprisingly gentle when she’s still shaking and squirming softly on the bed. Not God, not even the Devil, could cloud the full blown affection in her eyes. She’s in love – it’s not just lust, but love she feels for this man, and she feels like a fool for not recognizing she had gold in her hands all along.

“Yes,” she says, then smiles, then laughs, because it’s fairly obvious that she can’t speak those words even if she wanted to. He wrecked her so completely...

“I told you I’d make you happy, Sonnenschein.”

He smiles a little, looks down at her like she’s nothing but a baby who finally stopped her eternal crying.

“Oh I’m more than happy,” she says, this time tears clouding her vision, happy tears born from being free from years of imprisonment. He doesn’t strike her as the kind of man who cries, but there’s a faint glow in his eyes as well, a shimmer that both takes her in and pulls her under. This is something they don’t talk about in church... This is a thing they never write about in books.

She lays her hand on him, on the coarse cheek that is now slightly wet from a single tear.

“You’re crying,” she whispers, because her voice wouldn’t carry the weight of her words at this point.

“Ja…? Well... I’m happy too,” he explains, with a shortness of breath and a confusion to his voice.

He blinks the rest of it away, but the sweet moment stays, lingers on until she draws him into a kiss – another thing they never talk about in novels, a woman kissing a man – and she tastes both him and her on his lips, how well he loved her, and when he moans slightly from her reciprocating that love, she holds him closer, closer, closer… Until he shivers too.

[eddieschains]

Just A Taste

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

a/n: no one look at me please and please don’t judge me let me HAVE THIS also not proofread oops

Word Count: 1k

TW// 18+, lactation kink, mentions of pregnancy, mommy kink, handjob, cumming in pants, let me know if i missed anything!!

When you and Eddie got married, he couldn’t wait to put a baby in you. It’s all he’s ever wanted ever since you started dating. He wanted to get started right away, so you did.

Now here you are, in your little cottage in the woods, rocking your newborn baby to sleep. Eddie loved watching you with her. The way you looked at her as you laid her down to sleep, he’d never seen such happiness on anyone. It melted his heart.

Eddie loved the way you looked pregnant. He loved watching your belly grow, being in awe of the fact that you were growing life inside of you. But his favorite part? Your boobs, of course. You already had a decent pair, he certainly wasn’t complaining. But the way they grew each day, god he couldn’t keep his eyes away.

Now as he sits next to you, watching you pump the milk out of them for when she inevitably wakes up hungry in the middle of the night, he can’t help but wonder. Wonder what it tastes like, what they feel like, what it would be like to milk you straight into his mouth.

It had only been 4 weeks, and you hadn’t been cleared for sex by your doctor yet. But Eddie was pent up to say the least. The smallest things would give him a hard on. When you’d put the baby to sleep and your shirt would hang open, when you’d reach in the cabinets and your underwear would peek above your pants, jesus even when you were fixing your hair and your shirt rode up showing the tiniest bit of your stomach, he could barely handle it.

He needed to get his hands on you, his mouth on you, anything to relieve the constant pressure in his pants. He’d be lying to himself if he hadn’t thought through and through everyday for the past 4 weeks on how to ask you if he can suck on your tits. He just didn’t want you to think he was weirdo. You’d been together for 5 years now, yet he still gets insecure.

But tonight was pushing him to his breaking point. He hadn’t even realized how long he’d been staring in silence as he watched the machine pulse around your nipple until you snapped him out of his daze.

“Eddie?” You ask with furrowed brows as he finally lifts his head to look at you. He shakes his head slightly and mumbles a hmm?

“You were staring.” You chuckle as you fill one bottle and set it on the table in front of you, preparing the next one.

“Yeah- sorry. I just- do you ever wonder… I mean- does it- does it hurt when…” He trails off, not sure how to bring it up to you.

“It doesn’t hurt, no. It can be uncomfortable sometimes, but it’s not painful.” You answer, unphased as you start to fill up the next bottle. He nods quietly before moving his eyeline back down to your breasts.

He sits in silence for a few more minutes before blurting out, “Can I taste it?”

You lift your head quickly, looking at him with wide eyes and confusion until you realize he isn’t joking. He’s staring right into your eyes before he reaches over and slowly puts the bottle on the table, removing the pump from your breast.

You suck in a sharp breath as he looks at you with pleading eyes, silently asking for permission before you nod yes. He swallows the lump in his throat as he pulls your shirt down further, salivating at the sight as his cock strains tighter in his jeans.

He places his hand on the mound, gently rubbing and squeezing, whimpering at the feeling. You watch him as he gets mesmerized by your swollen tits, palming himself with his other hand.

He plays with the skin of your tit a little while longer before diving in, swirling his tongue around your nipple, making you both let out soft moans. You shudder at the feeling, still sensitive from the pump.

Eddie chuckles, sending vibrations around the bud, only making you moan more.

“Feel good baby?” He mumbles around you, looking up at you with eyes full of lust.

You nod frantically, looking down to see he’s pulled his cock out the top of his jeans, as he begins to stroke it at a steady pace.

You tangle your fingers in his hair as the feeling shoots in between your legs, making you writhe in your seat. He keeps licking in circles before finally squeezing his lips around your nipple, sucking as your milk slowly spills on to his tongue.

“Oh, fuck mommy. You taste so fucking good.” He moans into you, sucking harder and sliding his tongue around to capture every last drop.

Something about his desperate need to feel you and taste any part of you has you a squirming, moaning mess. You reach your hand down to swat his away from his leaking cock, wrapping yours around it as you pump him harder.

“My god, this feels better than I thought.” You both giggle, as you continue to pump him, harder with each pump of your tits.

His moans become louder, and more frequent the harder he sucks and the more milk he swallows down. You feel your arousal soaking through your leggings as your pussy clenches around nothing, getting closer just from the feeling of his mouth on you.

“Want you to cum for me, baby. Cum for mommy, yeah?” You coo, his cock twitching in your hand at your words.

“I’ll cum for you, mommy. Gonna give you all I have.” He groans.

He sucks harder, faster as you do the same with his member. The room filled with muffled moans as you both start to shake under each others touch. A few moments go by before you even realize his cum has covered your arm, and your own has soaked through your pants.

You continue pumping him, now your turn to milk him for all he’s worth as he peppers soft kisses along your chest and down your boobs.

“Can we do that again?” He whines, as he rests his head in your chest.

“Give it a couple weeks and you’ll be sucking more than just my tits.”

[petitprincess1]

Hey, I'm really sorry for asking this, but do you and how do you deal with any guilt for liking Hazbin Hotel? I think the controversies and antis have got to me because I can't watch it or any content without thinking about those.

I love the songs (both the show's and PARANOID DJ's because they're bangers) but I also can't help but think "am I a terrible person with bad taste for liking this?"

Parts of this show also just make me happy, especially Angel Dust. He became such a comfort to me after I went through a similar situation. Not as extreme, but it messed me up. And Alastor is just the best character to ever be created. He sings and dances and kills and eats people, what more could you want in a man? But yeah, I just want to enjoy the silly demon show without feeling gross afterward and I don't know how to shake that feeling off.

First of all, I don't have any guilt watching anything I enjoy.

Second of all, neither should you. And this is the problem with antis and "critics". No one should EVER be made to feel bad about liking anything. Hell, I'll even extend that thought to those who like Velma. I'll never understand it, but I can't hate you for liking something.

I know Vivzie is tied to a lot of controversies, but so what? More than half of them have been debunked or shown to have changed as she grew older. Even if you still feel iffy, Hazbin is more than just Vivzie. There's an entire crew attached to this show and they should not suffer bc of one person.

I mean, you've most likely played a game or watched a movie that has had a problematic person connected to it. Yeah, that person is scummy, but you can still enjoy the content that has them featured or they created bc...that doesn't define you as a person. What you like in fiction does not translate to real life.

It's different when it comes to someone like Onision, who's content is nothing but his life and about him. I'd be more disgusted if you liked him vs you liking Hopper from A Bug's life, despite him being played by Kevin Spacey. Awful person, but Hopper is disconnected from Spacey other than voice. Or liking a song by a problematic artist. You like the song, not the person.

Once again, YOU SHOULD NOT FEEL GUILTY FOR ENJOYING SOMETHING! NO ONE SHOULD EVER FEEL GUILTY FOR ENJOYING MEDIA THAT'S MEANT TO BE ENJOYED! VIVZIE MADE THE SHOW BUT SHE IS NOT THE SHOW!

Anyone who dares to feel self-righteous over a cartoon needs to get that tree branch out of their ass.

[angelltheninth]

You Don't Have to Tell Me

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Tags: fluff, domestic, chores, neck kissing, flirting, blushing, slight injury, blood, suggestive

Word count: 0.8k

A/N: People who commission me for Jason Todd fics are some of my favorite people. Like ya'll have so much taste.

1. "What did I do to deserve you?"

Your and Jason's apartment was regularly empty, leaving many chores to be done by the time both of you came back from your respective missions. These chores were always divided between the two of you, making whoever finished them first able to tease and distract the other.

That is how you found yourself kissing the back of his neck while he washed the dishes. You could see his skin prickling and his body tingle from your kisses. The target you selected was the nape of his neck, right below his hairline. It was a mildly ticklish spot for him, nothing that would make him drop a plate or a glass.

"Going a little slow there. Don't tell me dishes are what bests you?" You interlocked your fingers at the front of his stomach, feeling the soft material of his shirt.

"I would have finished faster if you weren't distracting me." He poured more liquid soap on the surface and scrubbed it away under the warm water. Ignoring your kisses and the warm, soft press of you against his back was getting increasingly difficult. "Normally you want me to take my time finishing." His head turned enough for you to see his wink and smirk.

You could feel the tips of your ears burning. Remembering all those times you told him to slow down, to take easy, make it last... Agh! You couldn't let him distract you. He was trying to get out of doing the rest of his chores, you knew he was.

Jason wasn't an irresponsible boyfriend. He actually took the role very seriously. More then some other things in his life. He never wanted you to look at him and see someone not worth being around, he wanted to be someone who you could always know you could rely on and be safe and happy with. At the same time he loved flirting. You've never met anyone who could turn any situation into a flirting opportunity, but Jason Todd could.

"You know if you finished fast now you could take your sweet time with me later." A little extra motivation never hurt. You brushed your lips against the back of his ear, "I could that thing with my mouth that you like so much."

Your words were immediately followed by the sound of breaking plate.

"Jason! Be careful!" Too late, he was already bleeding.

"It's okay. Nothing that a little water can't fix." He pushed his hand under the flowing water and immediately recoiled, "Shit, that's burning hot!" In his haste he forgot to turn it to cold water. You pulled him by the back of his shirt and into the living room. You didn't have to tell him to sit, he just did. When you returned with the first aid kit he couldn't help but laugh a little, "Babe, you know I regularly get hurt worst then this right? We're superheroes, kinda comes with-" He stopped short when you closed your lips around the cut "-the job."

"I know it does. That doesn't change the fact that I can still worry about you. You always take care of me. This isn't a one way street Jason." You kissed the cut area before applying cream to the cut to relieve the stinging pain.

"What did I do to deserve you?" He asked with his smile so wide and his eyes gleaming with joy. Yet you could sense that the question was a bit more layered then simple flirting. You fetched the band-aid and held his hand in yours while you put it in place, then kissed over it too. Under your lips you felt his pulse speeding up.

When your eyes met his he looked away quickly, instead twirling his white tuff of hair. He tried to have a neutral look on his face while you kissed up his forearm until you got to the short sleeve of his shirt.

"That's easy." You beamed as you sat on his lap and cupped his cheeks, "You're you, Jason Todd. There's nothing and no one more that you have to be." You felt a little like a lovesick puppy saying this but it was the absolute truth.

"A hot bad boy?" Jason leaned in.

"Are you one though? I think you're a real softie actually." You left an inch between you.

"You can always make me hard." Wouldn't have to try very much knowing him. "And then soft. And then hard again. And then-" You pressed your finger to his lips.

"You're not getting anything until the chores are done."

He gasped dramatically and placed his injured hand over his hand, "You're gonna make an injured man do chores? How heartless of you."

"Yeah, really diabolical." You pulled him up and lead him back to the kitchen, "Take your time. I promise to make it worth your while." You traced the hem of his pants with your finger, and then just slightly below it. "Half way there already." Except you weren't only talking about the dishes.

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

1-4-1 + Horangi and Konig, helping their crush out when she approaches them in a bar asking them to pretend to be her boyfriend because a strange guy had been following her around all night. Please? I like your writing.

Oooh, yes, I can do this! I've never written for Horangi before, so bear with me!!🩵

141 + König & Horangi Pretending To Be Readers Boyfriend To Help Her

Warnings: reader being uncomfortable, unwanted advances, physical violence, swearing

Simon Ghost Riley-

The guy had been staring at you all night. No matter where you went, his eyes followed you everywhere.

You walked up to the bar to get another drink for yourself when you saw him get up from the corner of your eye and started to make his way toward you.

There was a fairly attractive gentleman to your right, and you acted quickly. You tapped him on the shoulder softly. "I'm so sorry to bother, that gentleman back there has been staring at me all night making me really uncomfortable, and now he's coming over here, could you possibly just act like you're my boyfriend?"

The man turned to you before catching sight of the greasy man coming toward you and gave you a firm nod. He stood to his full height, towering over you as the other man approached.

"Hey baby, I've been watching you all night. Can I buy you a drink and maybe take you out?" The greasy man gave a sickening smile, making your insides churn. You instinctively gripped onto the handsome man's arm tightly.

"She's with me. So I suggest you back off." The man's voice was incredibly deep, with a thick Manchester accent.

The greasy man gave a sneer before looking back to you. "Haven't seen you with this fella at all tonight. Are you sure he's yours?"

"I said, I suggest you back off. She's not interested. Now scram." The Manchester man's voice could cut knives, but the man wasn't backing down.

"I'm just saying your little pet here has quite the body. It's not such a bad thing to share, is it?" He walked closer, clearly under the influence as any sane man would've ran from the way the tall man was looking at him.

"Look, mate. You've got about 5 seconds before I smash this glass across your face, and I'll make sure it leaves scars." The Manchester man's voice was eerily calm, and it clearly worked on the other man, as he audibly gulped and ran for the door.

You let out a shaky sigh of relief and loosened your hold on the man's arm, turning to him.

"Oh, thank you so much. He was making me really uncomfortable, and I'm not super great at standing my ground." Your cheeks flushed under the man's intense gaze. "I'm so sorry to bother."

"It's no issue at all. I'm happy to have helped." He gave you a ghost of a smile before finishing off the last of his bourbon.

"Can I buy you a round, as a thank you?" You asked, your tone hopeful.

"Nah." He started, and your shoulders slumped slightly in defeat. "Wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I had you pay. What're you having?" He gestured to the unoccupied seat beside him, the same ghost of a smile on his face. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't caught sight of you earlier. You were a sight to behold, and the fact that you were now sitting beside him had his insides warming.

"Whatever you are." You smiled, sitting in the unoccupied seat next to him. "I'm Y/N, by the way."

"Simon. You drink bourbon?"

"Prefer Kentucky if I'm honest." You said shyly.

Simon's eyes lit up at your admission. Nobody in his life ever liked Kentucky. "Good taste."

The two of you remained there for what felt like hours, conversation flowing naturally between you. He'd told you very little about himself, but just enough to keep you intrigued. You were quick to develop a little crush on him, and unbeknownst to you, he was planning on asking for your number before you both parted ways.

König-

You were a close friend of Roze's and had met Konig a few times in passing. There was something about you, that had his cheeks heating from under his hood, and his word's always coming out as a jumbled mess whenever he tried to talk to you.

It was Roze's birthday, and you and a few members of Kortac had gone to her favorite bar to celebrate.

There was a guy who'd followed you from the last bar you were at earlier, and he was now sitting across from you, making you quite uncomfortable. You knew it was only a matter of time before he tried to approach you.

You turned to your right and saw one of Rozes teammates König (who you may have harbored a small crush on) sitting to your right, and you touched his shoulder gently.

"Konig, could I ask a huge favor? Could you possibly pretend to be my boyfriend? That guy over there has been following me all night, and it's starting to scare me." You rubbed at your arms nervously, as you watched the man from the corner of your eyes.

Konig's heart dropped at the tone of your voice and followed your gaze to a sneering man in the corner, who's eyes were fixated on you. The man's eyes shifted to Konig and gave a taunting smile before returning his gaze back to you.

König squeezed your hand gently, signaling it was okay. You stayed by König's side for a few minutes before the man decided to make his move. He walked over toward you, a wicked grin forming on his lips as he approached. "Evening, hot stuff."

You swallowed thickly and steadied yourself on König, who was now standing to his full height. "I'd recommend backing off, sir."

"I'm just coming to say hello. This fine young thing looked rather lonely. Thought I'd offer my...company." The man had said with a wink.

"She's not lonely. She's with me. Now, again, back off." Königs voice was laced with vitriol, but the man didn't seem phased.

"Why don't you join me, sweetheart. I can probably show you a better time than this guy. I could do quite a few memorable things to you." He gave a sadistic smirk to you.

König pushed you behind him gently, his hand hovering over your hip as reassurance. "I. Said. Back. Off. I can snap your bones in half more easily than you think. Don't tempt me, because I'd quite enjoy it."

The man held his hands up in mock innocence as he walked away. "Fine. Whatever. It's not worth my time anyway."

You took a deep breath as you tried to control your shaking hands. "T-thanks König. I really appriciate it. I don't think I could've handled that alone."

König turned to you with a soft smile. "You don't need to thank me, Maus."

"Maus?" You asked. Your German was limited to what you'd learned in primary school, so you were confused on what he'd called you.

The tips of König's ears turned pink as he mumbled slightly. "O-oh, it's mouse."

You gave a small giggle. "I quite like that. May.. may I offer you a coffee? There's a little shop right next door that has good sweets. They're open late."

König felt his heart skip a beat at the hopeful look in your eyes. You wanted to spend time with him? "I'd love that."

Your face lit up at his words, and you were quick to wrap your hand around his bicep. "Great! My treat."

You led the way to the coffee shop, and you and König had spent hours there until they closed. He'd insisted on walking you to your apartment, and you refused to let him leave until you made plans for your next "date." To say König had a smile that could light up all of Austria as he left your flat that night, would be an understatement.

Horangi-

Horangi had been subtly watching you all night. You were rather cute to him, but what caught his attention was the fact that you looked very uncomfortable. There was a gentleman who'd been continuously making passes at you and your group of friends, and it was clear it was unwanted.

The man had whistled to get your attention, and you looked over to him. You gave an awkward half smile and returned to the conversation your friends were having. You turned your attention discreetly back to the gentleman when you'd heard some fairly sexual remarks being said about you. Your cheeks reddened from embarrassment at what was being said. You finished off your drink and made your way to get a drink from the bar, and your stomach dropped when you saw the guy approaching.

You quickly turned to Horangi, your hands shaking slightly as you tapped on his shoulder gently. "Hi there, could I bother you a moment?"

Horangi turned to you, his smile dropping when he saw the panicked look on your face. "Yes of course, are you alright miss?"

"I'm... yes. Sorry that guy is bothering me, and I'm just trying to get a drink. Actually... could I ask you to pretend to be my boyfriend for just a few minutes until he leaves?" You asked, speaking at a brisk pace.

"Absolutely, yes." He nodded, as watched as the man approached you.

"Hey, sweetheart. Haven't seen you around here often. Wanted to invite you over to drink with my buddies and I. Could use a nice little piece of ass at our table." He gave a satisfied smile as he watched your expressions.

"S-sorry, I have a boyfriend, actually." You muttered meekly. Horangi watched as the drunk man walked closer to you, a sickening smirk on his lips.

"Haven't seen him around here. Not wise for your boyfriend to leave you unattended." He stopped just close enough for you to smell the strong alcohol on his breath.

"I'm her boyfriend, and I suggest you back the hell off her." Horangi stood, and the drunk man backed up with his hands up in a defensive gesture.

"Whatever. Don't want a slag like you anyway." The drunk man huffed before walking away.

You breathed a sigh of relief and turned to the tall man, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Thank you so so much."

Horangi blushed at the contact, his eyes trailing to where your hand was resting. "It's not a problem. Are you okay, now?"

You gave a nod, running your hand along the backside of your neck. "Oh yeah, I'm good." You felt a sudden burst of confidence coursing through you with the way he was looking at you. "Could I maybe make it up to you by taking you out for dinner? If you're not seeing anyone, that is. I'm Y/N, by the way."

Horangi's heart was beating rapidly as he processed your words. You were interested in him? "I'm Horangi I'd love that."

The two of you spoke for a while longer before exchanging numbers. You were quite giddy, as you made plans to hang out the next day.

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

Johnny was infatuated with you. You'd recently joined the team as a medic, and he hadn't had much of a chance to talk to you lately. You had such a carefree attitude and he couldn't help but be drawn to you.

He was sitting with Simon and Gaz at a local pub on a Friday night, drinking away a long day when his eyes fell on you. You were with a group of friends laughing away, and he felt his insides grow warm at the sound.

He'd watched as you stood and made your way to the bar, his stomach dropping as he saw a sniveling drunk man follow you, his eyes latched onto your ass.

It was almost instinct, as Johnny stood up telling the boys he was "going to get another round". He stalked over to you and the man, and his blood began to boil as he saw the look of clear discomfort on your face.

"Sir. I have a boyfriend I'm sorry." You said, your voice shaking slightly.

"I dont see one. Just you and your pretty little friends." The man weaseled his way closer to you, and you nearly gagged at the smell of his rancid breath. You turned your head and spotted a familiar mohawked scot next to you, your eyes meeting his.

"This is my boyfriend, actually." You stated matter of factly, and Johnny's cheeks turned slightly pink at the thought.

Shaking his head of those thoughts, he stood closer to you, placing a comforting hand on your hip. "Just getting a drink, babe? This guy bothering you?"

You turned to Johnny with a nod, your eyes screaming a thousand thank you's to him. Johnny got the hint and walked over to the man. "They're taken. Suggest you take a hint and look elsewhere, man."

The man gave a sinister smile before muttering "slag" under his breath and walking away from the two of you. It took everything in Johnny not to go shove his fist in his face.

You took a deep breath, relief flooding your system before giving Johnny a grateful smile. "Thank you so much, Soap. I'm sorry about that, the men here can be...persistent, and not in a good way."

Johnny gave a chuckle. "Persistence isn't always a bad thing. I'm happy I could assist, though. The guy was a creep."

You bit your lip softly, the alcohol making your brain just a bit fuzzy as you slipped out words that had Johnny's eyes widening.

"You're right. It's not always a bad thing. It just depends on the guy. Some guys here, though, I wouldn't mind trying to pick me up." You let your eyes rake along his body before giving him a sly wink. "Specially Scots with Mohawks."

Johnny was at a loss for words, his usual flirty banter being lost on him in that moment. He let out a weak "yes" as his tongue subconsciously wet his lips.

You gave a small giggle and turned to the bar tender. "Two drinks, please. I'll have a gin and tonic, and whatever he's having."

Johnny began to protest, but you'd silenced him. "Let me buy you a drink, Sargent. It's the least I can do to repay you."

And who was Johnny to say no? He was your "boyfriend" afterall.

John Price-

You were Laswells assistant. You'd been introduced to the boys only a few weeks prior, and that was just long enough for John to develop a small crush on you. You were professional, smart, and had a witty attitude that John couldn't help but fall for.

The 6 of you had found yourselves at a pub for the night, celebrating one of the most recent victories of the team. He couldn't help it, as his eyes continuously followed you, everywhere you went. You held such an aura of confidence, it naturally drew a bunch of unwanted attention at the bar.

One man, in particular, kept his eyes trained on you. He'd tried to talk to you earlier at the bar, and you did your best to brush away his advances before returning to your table. John could clearly see the discomfort in your eyes.

"Are you okay?" He'd asked, eyes searching your face.

"Yeah. Yeah, that guy's just giving me weird vibes." You gave a half smile before returning to your drink.

John made a note to pay close attention to the man the rest of the night.

It wasn't until later on that night that you'd stood and went to the restroom, and John saw red when he saw the man follow you into the restroom.

He stood abruptly, nearly causing the table to fall over before making his way to the bathroom. He pushed the door open with force to find you being shoved against the wall by the man.

"John!" You'd cried out. "Sir, please, this is my boyfriend. Please leave me alone."

The man gave a horrid laugh as he spared a glance in John's direction. "Surely you don't mind if I get a piece of the action."

John seethed, his nostrils flaring slightly as his anger blinded him. He stepped a few inches closer to the man before connecting his fist to the man's face.

The man let out a strangled cry as he dropped to the floor, clutching his cheek. You looked up at John with tears in your eyes and were quick to scurry over to him.

John wrapped his arm around your waist. "I've got you babe."

He led you out of the bathroom, back to your table, before telling the team he was heading out for the night. It didn't take a scientist to figure out what had happened, as they watched the man come out clutching his cheek, and your crying form.

The two of you walked outside, the fresh air providing an immense relief for you as you regained your senses. "Thank you, John. I owe you."

"Don't owe me anything, love. Are you okay?" He turned to you, his previously hardened eyes softening. You blinked up at him with a small smile, before engulfing the man in a hug.

"I am now."

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

You were a newer recruit to the 141. The boys had all fallen in love with you and were glad for you being the new addition, especially Kyle, who'd had a small crush on you.

There were a few of you that had gone to the local bar for the night, and you found yourself in the corner of the bar with one of your friends.

There was a group of gentlemen at the table next to you who were making overly sexual remarks about you. You and your friend got rather uncomfortable and tried to make your way over to the 141 boys.

The group in the corner had followed your every move and began to cat call from their table. You shook slightly as you walked up to Kyle.

"Hey Kyle. Do you mind possibly acting like you're my boyfriend? Those guys have been following me around all night, and my friend just went to the bathroom."

"Sure thing, those guys in the corner?" He asked, eyeing up the group of men.

You gave a nod, not daring to look back at the men.

The boys at the table all eyed up the men who were approaching. The one who'd initiated the comments stood forward, with a smile on his face. "Evening, gents, mind if we borrow this little cutie for a bit?"

"She's taken." Kyle stood, puffing out his chest. "Best, try your luck elsewhere."

The men stood defensively, clearly not backing down. The man who spoke first gave a hearty chuckle. "Taken doesn't mean anything anymore, mate. Let us take her off your hands for awhile."

Kyle walked right up to the man, his face inches from his. "Touch my girlfriend, and my buddies and I will throw all of you out on your ass."

Ghost approached from behind you, casting a menacing glare in their direction. "Try it."

The men clearly knew better than to pick a fight with them and went about their business. Not before, however one of them made a crude remark about you.

Kyle grabbed the man's arm and twisted it. "Say it again, I dare you."

The man ripped his arm from Kyle's grasp and ran back to his buddies in the corner.

"Are you okay?" Kyle asked, moving to sit back next to you.

You nodded, regaining your composure as you gave Kyle a smile. "Thank you, I don't want to know what would've happened if you guys hadn't stepped in."

"Of course, it's what we are here for." He squeezed your shoulder gently.

You sat and thought for a moment before speaking in a hushed tone. "Would you want to get out of here? There's a good burger place down the road. Kind of over the bar scene right now anyway."

Kyle gave you a wide smile before standing, offering his hand to you. "I'd be a fool to say no to that."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I hope this was okay! 🙂 still tryna work through my writers block!

[lovebugism]

✶ ┄ FIX IT !

summary: you thought you were over it, the whole steve-and-nancy thing. spoiler alert: you aren't. pairing: steve harrington / f!reader word count: 3.5k warning: angst. gut wrenching angst. with a sort of happy ending. a/n: i'm such a sucker for angst it's gotta be unhealthy at this point. anyway, shout out to all my angsty fic enjoyers. let's read this and cry together <3

Having four roommates and only two bathrooms was worth it if it meant getting out of Hawkins. The apartment was a quaint little thing just outside of Indianapolis — up four flights of stairs with no elevator, cracks in the walls, and a stellar view of an alleyway.

But it was nice to have a place all your own. Sharing it with all your best friends was even better. That was the dream after all, wasn’t it? And being with Steve — that was just the cherry on top of it all.

So you weren’t going to let your mean, green, and envious heart ruin the new life you and your friends were trying to build in this tiny apartment.

You didn’t even think yourself the jealous type. Not until you realized that Steve was going to live under the same roof as his ex-girlfriend. It was dumb and it was irrational and you just couldn’t shake it.

It was probably a whole lot harder for Steve than it was for you, really. Besides, it had been years since they were together. Both of them had moved on, both of them had new and blossoming relationships.

Jonathan was good to Nancy. And to you, Steve was… well he was perfect. More importantly, he was yours. 

So it really shouldn’t bother you.

And it didn’t. Not for a while. 

Not until Nancy and Jonathan broke up out of nowhere and he’d announced to all of you on movie night that he was moving out.

He said that he missed California too much, that Argyle was getting lonely all the way out there, and that he had a spare room at his place. You couldn’t tell if that was the truth or just some bullshit excuse.

Maybe both.

What made it worse is that Nancy hadn’t seemed all that upset about it. Hell, you were more sad about him leaving than she was.

She told you as much during your weekly designated wine night (the one where you and her and Robin got drunk on cheap wine, while the rest of the boys fucked off and got drunker on cheaper beer).

“It didn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would,” she’d confessed with a shrug, only slightly tipsy and cheeks pink with it. “We… drifted apart, I guess. Just felt right to end it.”

You and Robin spent the rest of the night comforting her, anyway.

She loved Jonathan, everyone knew that. It sort of came with the whole shared trauma thing. She had to be at least a little bit sad that her person was gone, but she hid it away from the rest of you like it was her job.

But when the days got really bad, and she found herself missing Jonathan more than she liked, she sought refuge in Steve. Your Steve. 

And it made sense. He knew her better than the rest of you.

But it didn’t mean it hurt any less.

A sick feeling twists in your stomach when Steve accompanies the girl on a liquor store run without her having to ask. You watch with your heart in your throat when he leaves with her in the dead of night — a swirling bubble of jealousy in the pit of your chest with an ache so palpable you can taste it.

You spend the next several minutes trying not to look as sad as you feel while Eddie can’t stop debating on what the two of them might be talking about.

Nancy had been more reserved as of late, carrying a rain cloud over her as she wandered through the apartment like a ghost — he concludes they’re just going out to spill some hot goss. Robin makes him promise to never say those string of words ever again while you quietly dismiss yourself to your bedroom.

Nancy and Steve have been gone for an hour.

Lying in the dark and staring up at the textured, water-stained ceiling, you start to do the math. Fifteen minutes there, fifteen minutes back with traffic — but the streets are usually bare after nine o’clock. Either way, that leaves a half hour spent trying to choose what alcohol to splurge on.

You’ve seen Nancy try to pick out wine, she’s indecisive and a perfectionist to boot. She could spend hours dissecting each bottle to find the perfect one, if Robin wasn’t constantly over her shoulder rushing her.

Maybe that’s why Nancy had declined when the girl offered to tag along with them.

Or maybe she just wanted to be alone with Steve—

You have to physically shake that thought from your head. But even when you shut your eyes, it’s like the image of him and Nancy making out in the back of her Station Wagon is ingrained in the depths of your mind.

You curl into yourself and bathe in the depths of the dark abyss you’ve created in your bedroom, trying to see your way out of your handcrafted turmoil like a bad cold.

When Nancy and Steve return, they come cradling paper bags in their arms like babies.

Robin relieves the latter of the load in his hands and follows the darker-haired girl into the kitchen connected to the living room, no larger than a decent-sized closet.

Steve notices the lack of your presence as soon as he walks through the door. When he’d left, the three of you were pregaming — a feat that often led to Eddie breaking out his guitar and you and him singing terribly off-key to whatever was playing on the radio.

Now you’re nowhere to be found, and he feels it like a missed meal. He feels the ache of your absence like an empty stomach.

“Where’d she go?” Steve asks Eddie, who’s lounging on the couch and taking up the entire space — legs spread and arms thrown over the back.

The curly-haired boy takes a noisy sip of his nearly gone beer. Then exhales rather dramatically when he sits the can on his thigh. It leaves a damp ring on the denim. “Hey, buddy... Just blow in from stupid town?”

“…What?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, already annoyed and knowing more than he lets on. “She’s in her room, dingus.”

“She okay?” Steve wonders with furrowed brows, uncaring of the use of the stupid nickname because there’s bigger things to worry about apparently.

It wasn’t like you to miss a night of drinking. He gets momentarily fearful that you’d gotten sick while he was away, that he wasn’t around to help you if you had.

“Why don’t you ask her?” Eddie lilts with wide eyes, like it’s a bright idea that neither of them would’ve thought of otherwise.

His sarcasm makes Steve roll his eyes, but he heeds the boy’s words anyway.

Through the short hallway and the last door on the right, he finds you in the darkness of your shared bedroom, illuminated only by the orange streetlight that filters through the blinds. You're hid beneath the covers, a little lump on the mattress. 

He idles in the doorway and waits for you to react to his presence.

You don’t.

“Hey, babe,” he greets cautiously after concluding you just hadn’t heard the door squeak open upon his arrival. “You feel okay?”

You mumble something he can’t quite make out. He takes the raised infliction as an affirmative and shifts his weight on his feet because it’s unlike you to be so one-note with him.

“Well, I, uh— I bought some of that wine you like... I couldn’t remember if you liked the blackberry or blueberry, so I ended up just getting both, you know, just in case.”

“Okay,” you respond after several agonizing seconds. Your voice sounds so fragile in the still darkness. Like he didn’t already know something was wrong.

He so desperately wants to pry but chooses to err on the side of caution for now, out of fear of turning the bad, worse.

“You wanna come down and try it with me? If you don’t like it we can always go back—”

“I’m okay,” you interrupt gently, with a tone so soft and coated with so much emotion that it makes his heart sink. You’re anything but and he knows it.

“Okay,” he nods anyway with the hope that he can pull you from this funk you’d managed to fall into. “Do you, uh… Do you want me to stay in here with you?”

He hears your deep sigh and sees the way the wad of blankets rises and falls again. A telltale sign of your annoyance. He knows then that he’s overstayed his welcome.

Your voice remains quiet but loses its kindness when you tell him: “You can do whatever you want, Steve.”

He’s hurt by the way you’re so suddenly short with him, then angered because he didn’t do anything to deserve it in the first place.

“Okay, what’s wrong with you? What did I do?”

You don’t answer. You just sigh again, the same really big, dramatic one that’s more to showcase your irritation with him than anything else.

You’re more than keen to end the conversation right there, but Steve isn’t. Not when something’s eating you away from the inside out and he can’t do anything to help you because you won’t let him. 

“Babe, c’mon. I get it, alright? You’re mad at me. Just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it.”

“You can’t fix it,” you monotone, stifled beneath the covers.

“I can’t fix it?” he repeats with furrowed brows. “What do you mean, I can’t fix it?”

You use your silence as an answer, as a weapon. It’s almost worse than any silver-tongued reply you could've given him. The quiet forces him to think for himself and imagine all the things he could’ve done wrong that he can’t take back. It feels like quicksand.

Did he forgot to kiss you good morning? Of course, he didn’t — actually, he gets mad at you for forgetting — and you were golden before he left. Eddie probably said something stupid, that was likely. Or maybe Robin made a joke that upset you, that was even more likely. 

He figures it’s something in between all those. Something silly that feels like the end of the world. He can make it better. He always makes it better.

Steve lifts the lump of covers you shield yourself with and crawls beneath them with the intention of pulling you out of the void you’ve sunken into.

It’s not so comfortable, lying in bed in socks and jeans and a collared shirt, but he doesn’t need to feel good right now — you do. He’ll be content if he can just hold you in his arms for a couple of hours, the rest of the night if that’s what you need.

But he can’t even do that.

He reaches for your arm, fingers just barely trailing across the warm skin there, and you jerk away from him like he’s shocked you.

It startles him, how quick you are to avoid him. It has him jerking back too, because you’ve never denied him the opportunity to touch you. He becomes the same sort of storm cloud that you are now, because he doesn’t know what he did to deserve this. Any of it.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks you, less soft than he’d been before.

You sniffle. “I told you I didn’t want you going out alone with Nancy anymore,” you mumble, face still shoved into your pillow. The words are slightly muffled but he can hear the tears that coat your voice. 

“That’s what this is about?” he wonders, not as empathetic as you’d hoped he might be, but genuinely confused. With your back to him, you don’t see the smile pulling at his lips while he shakes his head, like it’s funny to him. “Babe, we were just getting drinks. It’s no different than you going out with Robin.”

“It’s totally different! Because I was never in love with Robin. She was never in love with me—”

“Well, I beg to differ,” he murmurs in a soft laugh.

“It’s not funny, Steve,” you retort wetly and then sniffle again. When you turn to face him, he sees for the first time what he’s done to you.

The orange of the streetlight lamp outside bathes you in a sunset shade of neon — your eyes are glassy with tears that gather at your lashes. Emotions glow at the tip of your nose and your cheeks. Your skin would be hot to the touch if he felt you now.

“Do you know how weird it is for me? To watch my boyfriend and his ex go fuck around with me?” you ask him with a scrunched nose and brows, like your trying to keep yourself from falling apart in front of him.

“It’s not like that and you know it,” Steve scolds. “She just wanted to get alcohol for tonight and had some shit to get off her chest. I mean, she’s been having a really hard time lately—”

“It’s not your job to take care of her, Steve!” you shout before you even realize you’re shouting. You take in a shuddered breath and let it out in a trembling sigh, shining eyes flitted away from him and towards the ceiling as you calm yourself down.

When you start your lament again, you’re quieter.

“You can’t just be this, like, emotional crutch for her every single time something’s wrong. She’ll just get invested in you all over again and…”

Steve watches from beside you, propped up on his elbow, as you trail off. The frown between your eyebrows deepens, a great and inquisitive crevice, while your eyes widen and your mouth falls softly agape — like you’ve discovered something in the midst of your rant.

“Is— Is that what you want?” you ask him then. “Do you, like, need her attention to feed your ego or something?”

He’s too offended by your words to tell you all the ways they aren’t true. “What? No! Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s embarrassing, Steve.”

“What is?”

“Watching you and her together!” you admit through a tightening throat. You rise from where you’d been laying down and Steve follows you, settling in front of you as you wrap your arms around your knees. “When I have to sit here, by myself, while you guys spend time alone. When she always knows what you’re up to, and I don’t—”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes quietly, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“—It’s not fair. She’s not your girlfriend, Steve, I am. It’s your job to take care of me, not her.”

Steve deflates like a popped balloon. His chin falls to his chest and his eyes squeeze shut at the weight of your words.

It’s like you’re reminding him that he’s supposed to be in love with you and not someone he cared for a long time ago. Like you felt the need to remind him because you thought he’d forgotten somewhere down the line.

It hurts him too. It feels like you’ve got his heart in your hands and you're wringing it in your grip.

“You’re right,” Steve concedes with a nod. “I just... I guess, I never thought about it like that.”

He feels the same way, too, sometimes. When you and Eddie go all buddy-buddy mode and want to spend time together.

When you’re out all night with him at band practice. When you’re attached at the hip and having sleepovers in his room to talk about everything and nothing for hours until you fall asleep when the sun rises. When you both come down at one in the afternoon the next day for breakfast, giggling about the thing you said the night before.

It makes him feel like he’s missing out. Like you’re sharing parts of yourself with someone else and he isn’t allowed to see it.

And sometimes he gets irrational — keeps himself up all night as he imagines you and Eddie making out on his floor after going through all his new tapes or fucking in his unmade bed while he keeps a hand on your mouth to keep you quiet.

Steve concocts waking nightmares for himself whenever you’re not beside him.

But even then, it’s different. Because he used to do all that shit with Nancy. They fell in love, made out for hours because they didn’t want to stop feeling each other, had sex on a twin-sized bed and tried to keep from falling out of it while they did.

You’d never done that shit with Eddie — or with anyone you’re now sharing a home with. Besides Steve.

Because he’s yours now. And you’re his.

But you can’t stop thinking about how he used to be Nancy’s too.

“I don’t need you to tell me that I’m right,” you murmur with the childlike shake of your head, slow and lazy, as you wipe your wet cheek on your shoulder. “I need you to do something about it— I needed you to do something about it a long time ago.”

“I will, okay? I will. I promise. I’ll fix it,” Steve assures you quickly, with wide and hopeful eyes and a nodding head that makes his hair flop against his forehead.

He can see you losing hope in front of him, like a flame going slowly out. You’re slipping away. He keeps fighting to keep a hold of you.

“No.”

“…No?”

“You can’t,” you sniffle. “You can’t fix it.”

“Baby—”

“It’s not fair. To either of us,” you tell him, looking at him through clumped together lashes and heavy, sparkling eyes. “And it’s not your fault, okay? But I can’t keep feeling this like. It’s not healthy— this isn’t… this is what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like. It shouldn’t feel like this.”

Steve blinks back stinging tears. He brings his hand to his face and rubs the back of it against his burning nose. He feels a bit like you do now, hopeless. You’re slipping away and he is too and you both just keep on slipping, just going going going.

“You’re not even—” he clears his throat when his voice breaks halfway through. “You’re not even gonna let me try?”

You shrug weakly. Tears burn as they gather at your waterline. You revel in the sting because it’s better than the hole ripping through your chest.

“I don’t know. I think… I think it’s too late.”

“Why would you say that?” Steve agonizes with the shake of his head, looking like a wounded puppy as he gaze at you with brown eyes full of hurt. “Don’t say that. Don’t.”

“Steve—”

“No,” he interjects firmly, stopping the spiral before it can start again.

He positions himself so he’s sitting further ahead of you and holds your arms in his numbing hands, ducking down to catch your gaze when you try to look away from him.

“I love you, okay? I’m an idiot and I’m sorry and I'm stupid, alright? I wasn’t thinking. But we can’t just… It’s not too late. I can fix this. I promise I can fix this.”

Your chest aches at his plea, at the way he still doesn’t understand.

It’s not his fault you feel this way, not entirely. It’s not anyone’s fault and that’s what’s so scary. There’s no one to blame the pain on, no root to cut out and put an end to it. You’re frightened that it’s always going to be there, constantly in the way, forbidding either of you from ever moving on.

“Steve...” you murmur through tears while the boy gathers you in his arms. You try to stop him but your voice gets caught in your throat halfway through. Because you don’t want him to stop. Not ever.

He nurses you into his velvet hold, wrapping a pair of strong arms around you to cage you against him. He presses his nose into your temple while he rocks you back and forth. “I promise. Everything’s okay. I’ll fix it.”

He repeats that like a mantra while you keep your head pressed against his chest — everything’s gonna be okay, I can fix it, I love you.

It’s a promise. One that he’d rather die than break. 

You stay there, curled against his chest, while dark feelings ebb and flow in a constant and bitter cycle.

You hope he’s right. That these big feelings are just big stupid feelings that'll pass come the pink and blue sunrise. That everything really is going to be okay and that he really can fix it. 

Because even now, all hopeless and full of doom and gloom, you feel soothed in his hold. You’ve never felt safer anywhere else. You’ve built a home in the peace of Steve’s arms and you want to keep on living in them.

“I’m gonna make it better,” he whispers against the crown of your head. If you’ll let me.

He feels you nod lazily against him. “Okay.”

[iceunhie]

love’s a whole new meaning with you.

summary: valentine’s day has got them thinking that maybe love has different forms; but it always leads them back to falling deeper and deeper for you.

featuring. zhongli, dan heng, albedo.

notes: danheng favoritism rlly showing here 😭, this is for @ecrin-de-litterature's kiss (don't tell) ! event; to @thexianzhoujade. happy hearts day !!

zhongli is a man who values tradition and the simplest actions—but he values you above all. when you tell him about the holiday called ‘valentine’s day,’ a day that's meant to inform the solidarity of of one's romantic relationship, he treats you akin to a treasure, as iridescent as fragile glass. you'd want for nothing with this man, seriously.

like the gentleman he is, zhongli can and will take you out on a classic yet wonderful dinner date catered entirely to your tastes (nevermind his penchant for forgetting price tags), the security of your relationship a stark imprint upon your mind forevermore. there is no greater desire he harbors than to be yours, always. he leaves you ever lovesick as before with his consideration, the way he's already gifting you bouquets of silkflowers, complete with a glaze lily to symbolize the lasting unity of your bond.

his valentine's gift is that of matching jade pendants symbolizing yin and yang. a liyue tradition deems that a gift of this design recognizes that the individual you've gifted it is the other half of your soul, your equal. and that is because you are. to zhongli, loving you is as natural as the earth beneath his feet, and with the passing of time, he silently makes a vow; a vow to be yours and you his till the end.

albedo grasps the concept of gifting one’s significant other to be both an arduous and thoughtful affair—when he hears talk of valentine’s day atop the lofty snow-studded peaks of dragonspine, his first instinct is to question himself. it's a bit of an oh moment, considering his personal belief that relationships, be it platonic or romantic, were rather taxing. is it elation, he wonders, at the fact that you and him have fostered such a fragile and precious bond to this extent that it is deemed celebratory? maybe it is. no, instead, you were the one that taught him otherwise.

he is not inherently romantic, even if you say he is. but he leads you with him to a vantage point during nightfall, when the city of freedom below rejoices in hearts day. there, watching the mesmerizing hue of the aurora borealis above you, he gifts you a portrait of, well, you.

it's rather simple, he thinks, but this was the most appropriate gift he deemed fit to give—even if he thinks that nothing could ever capture your entirety fully—because he simply wishes to convey the aspects of you he loves for you to see. to albedo, the strokes of his brush upon this canvas can only capture but a fragment of your splendor, your warmth that's like a fire on a cold winter day.

when you smile up at him with the reflection of starlight in your eyes, words of gratitude spilling from your lips, he thinks it's undoubtedly worth it.

to dan heng, valentine’s day reminds him of his past, as unrelated as these two concepts may seem. he's made his choice; to blaze a path of his own, with you by his side supporting him unabashedly. but for all his security in his relationship with you, does he really deserve this? when sins he once harbored lingers upon his life like a haunting shadow?

(“don't be silly, heng’er.” you'd chided him when he expressed his concerns about this once before, holding him as though you were everlasting—like you would never let go of him, no matter what. eyes tender, meeting his. “of course you deserve it. because it's you.”)

in any case, dan heng spares no time to waste, asking permission from himeko and welt for a stop-over in the luofu; he'd been quite flustered when she'd given him an encouraging pep talk, and welt musing about ‘young love’ and all… (the embarrassment of being outed as whipped for you was quite severe) but he takes you to the places you've always wanted to visit, and there's a sense of fulfillment in his heart whenever he trails after you hand-in-hand as you two spend the day together on a leisure date for valentine's day, eating dragon’s beard candy all the while.

young love, welt said. love that was fleeting, sweet. dan heng believes otherwise. this affection is all-consuming, and he thinks that him loving you will persist till even the last bit of stardust in the universe is no more. when he feels your lips brush across his cheek, that thought is solidified, a forever in the making.

[९] 2024 © iceunhie :: do not copy or use my works.

[loveephia]

HIS CUTE FIANCÉ | ushijima wakatoshi

content: (🦷) tooth-rotting fluff, a sprinkle of angst, cute scenes of you and ushijima, your schoolmates being slightly jealous of you both, reader comes from a rich family, kind of manhwa-esque.

⚠ warning/s: reader hurts herself on accident and while cooking.

note: i remember people wanting a little drabble on this when i posted my 200 followers special, so here you go! :D

"oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh." was what ran through your mind when you watched ushijima wakatoshi officially sign the contract.

it was an arranged marriage. ushijima is knowingly the number two ace of japan, while your family owns a big sports company. this marriage would benefit ushijima in terms of popularity, while your family would benefit in more sales.

soon enough, this marriage would all be terminated once both sides are content with the outcome, so ushijima and his family agreed by contract. you were ecstatic, to say the least, having successfully hidden your small crush on the giant for ages now.

"it's a pleasure to be working with you, son." your father held out his hand to shake ushijima's.

somehow, during the next day at shiratorizawa, word got out of you two getting married soon, and it was all your schoolmates could talk about.

they all chattered about you both non-stop, saying how annoyingly perfect you are together. ushijima is this big, strong guy who has this intense passion for volleyball, yet he still happens to make time for you. while you're his doting and clumsy wife-to-be.

clumsy, you ask? well, one time, you tripped up the stairs because you were too busy admiring ushijima. you ended up with a medium-sized scar and several specks on your knee, but it all ended alright, since ushijima took nice care of it.

he led you to the infirmary, but unfortunately, the nurse was out on break, so ushijima took matters into his own hands. he first disinfected the minor wounds made before pouring a tiny bit of the antibiotics on a clean cotton ball. he then lightly padded it onto your scarred knee.

you apologized to ushijima for worrying him like this, but he brushed it off, telling you that it was nothing. "i don't mind taking care of you. it's the least that i could do while we're together."

the volleyball team was shocked from the news, to say the least. ushijima was surely handsome, but he can be a bit aloof, so it could drive some of the girls away. because of that, the team didn't expect that he'd be the first from them all to get married.

"so, how's married life treating ya, ushiwaka?" tendō joked, leaning an arm on his broad shoulder. "we're not married yet." ushijima stoicly replied.

"yet! he said yet!" your heart felt innocently happy at his choice of wording.

you were never too big on cooking, but to impress ushijima, you spent an entire week in shiratorizawa's hot and fiery kitchen, getting taught how to make the best hayashi rice by the school's cooking club.

"why'd you decide to do this, y/n? i mean.. you'd usually stay the farthest from the stove whenever we have home economic classes." a member asked curiously. you jumped at the sudden question, as if being caught red-handed. "oh! uhm.. i wanted to give ushi— i mean.. wakatoshi a bento to thank him for taking care of me this one time." your face went aflame at the memory of him patching up your knee with a cute band-aid.

you bashfully rubbed the back of your head, "but i don't think my current cooking skills will be enough to satisfy his taste buds."

"that's true, you're a terrible cook, y/n!" a friend walking by teased you while you tried to defend yourself, failing miserably in the process.

"anyway, that's why i came here. to get better." you said, determination in those eyes of yours. it moved the cooking club's members, and they adored your resoluteness. "okay, we'll help you!"

once you mastered the recipe, you added your own twist to be original and brought ushijima a bento. it was bundled up in a pastel wrapping cloth with a cute pattern on it. your classmates marveled at it, awaiting for the two of you to speak.

"what's this?" ushijima asked.

"it's.. hayashi rice. i made it. i hope you like it..!"

you left the classroom quickly to protect yourself from his reaction, which could only go both ways; good or bad. "i don't think my heart can take it if he dislikes my cooking.." you thought.

ushijima had already really liked the hayashi rice being served in the cafeteria, but since this was made by you, he supposes that he can take a bite or two.

and oh, did he love it.

it was similar to shiratorizawa's hayashi rice, but the flavor was more prominent, and the taste was much richer. i guess this is what happens when you have a bit of allowance left from your parents. aka the ingredients were pricey, and you had access to more spices since the shiratorizawa kitchen was a bit limited.

but not only that, he could tell that it was made with love (as if the heart-shaped rice wasn't obvious enough). ushijima had noticed your fingers being covered with small cuts earlier, probably from slicing the ingredients. it showed him that you really worked hard to make it.

he kindly asked if you could make another.

whenever you and ushijima are sitting next to each other in the cafeteria, you'd play with his large calloused hands for the fun of it. he doesn't mind, really. it's almost as if a kitten was massaging some bread on his palm. quite therapeutic if i do say so myself.

a bold move of ushijima that you'll never forget is the time he hugged you from behind for the first time. he was tired from practice and wanted to rest a bit, so he used you as his pillow. rest assured that he was feeling well-energized with you in his muscular arms.

you warmed up to ushijima and managed to earn yourself a soft spot in his heart. even ushijima's fellow volleyball members have noticed how relaxed he's been lately.

the day of termination has come, and both sides were more than happy with what they profited. ushijima had gotten more magazine gigs for the sports section, and your family had gained more than enough money to last them until the next generation.

you and ushijima were in your father's spacious office room with the contract laying despairingly on the table in front of you. your father, himself, was sitting on the opposing side of the both of you.

thinking of this all ending makes your heart heavy, but ushijima never did this for love, so i guess it's to be expected. being loved back is asking for too much, so the least you could do is respect his own feelings.

"i'm thankful for the past few months."

you reluctantly signed your signature on the left side of the contract and waited patiently for ushijima to pick up the pen and do the same.

but he never did.

with a sigh, ushijima speaks up, "is it possible to renew the contract? i don't think i'm satisfied yet."

your jaw drops, and you face your father, whose expression seems to be a playful one. "oho~ and what have you still not gotten out of this that isn't to your heart's content? a sports scholarship for college? or perhaps a partnership?" he lists.

"your daughter's real hand in marriage." ushijima states.

"huh?!" you face ushijima to see if this is just some kind of cruel joke being played on you, but ushijima wasn't one for funny punchlines. in fact, he was always very straightforward.

"that is if.. y/n is okay with it." and now, ushijima and your father are looking at you for your answer.

you nod shyly and look down at your own lap.

"very well then! i'll check this with my lawyer and my wife to see what we can do." your father walked out of the office room, leaving you with ushijima.

you play with the hem of your dress nervously, not knowing what to say. "i saw the way you hesitated to sign the contract earlier," ushijima started, and you turn to him, surprised by how on-point his assesment was, "so i thought that you'd be okay to continue being engaged."

"truthfully, i grew comfortable with your presence. and on days when you weren't beside me, i'd wonder where you were and how you were doing."

"there was never a day where you weren't on my mind." he admits.

now you were feeling dizzy from his words. "i- i see.."

"is that all you have to say to me?" ushijima asks, hopeful, as he leans close to you. "w- well..!"

you muster up your remaining courage and silently mumble, "..thank you for loving me, wakatoshi."

ushijima smiles gently at your verbal reply, it being exactly what he wanted to hear.

© lowercase intended | loveephia

[kaminocasey]

A Thing for Hands: A Valentine's Special

Summary: You get your nails done in a certain 501st blue and Rex can't stop thinking about them being wrapped around a certain part of his body.

Pairing: Captain Rex x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Smut, oral (both receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up friends), the idea of exhibitionism, handjobs, rough sex, teasing, flirting, feelings, etc.

WC: 2.3K

A/N: Soooo, I got my nails done and all I could think about was whether or not Rex would like them lol. HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!!! 💗💗💗 Also, I made a Valentine's Day Playlist if you wanna check it out! 💗

TAGLIST FORM

(Pics of nails are mine)

They’re just kriffing nails, Rex thinks to himself, biting his knuckle to stifle a moan, why am I so turned on?

Earlier, you came into the barracks with your nails the color of his armor. 501st Blue, you had called it. It had made his face go warm and other places go hard. He had watched you pack your medical kit by your bunk and just couldn’t tear his eyes away from your hands. You had chosen to make your nails the color of his armor. It hadn’t taken him but a moment to grab you and kiss you, instinct fully taking over.

You’d hooked up once before, a month ago, in the back alley of 79s after a heated battle and both of you needed to let off steam. But this… was different.

Since when did he have a thing for hands? Or maybe it’s just your hands?

But tonight? You’d dropped to your knees so eagerly for him. In fact, he’s pretty sure he’s never been so turned on in his life. The rate at which he got instantly hard should be concerning, right?

The lewd sounds coming from below him, watching as your hands just barely fit around his aching hard length, spur him on as he starts to thrust his hips upward.

Your mouth slides off with a ‘pop’ and he makes eye contact with you.

“You know what I think?” You smirk up at him.

“Hm?” He can barely form words.

“I think you really like my nails.” You chuckle, squeezing the base of his cock. 

“Y-ya… think?” He fires back, amused, chest heaving.

You let go of him, and he nearly protests but when you start teasing the tips of your nails over his length, it twitches, making him jerk slightly with a gasp, and you smirk up at him.

“You think I could make you cum just from this, Captain?” You purr. 

“Undoubtedly.” He gasps, watching your blue nails tease the veins of his cock. 

You tilt your head, looking up at the man above you, your eyes full of seduction, drawing the clone captain in even more. He’d do anything for you, and he hopes you know that. 

You run the pad of your finger over the tip of his head, swiping the precum off and pulling your finger to your mouth, sucking it in to taste him. Rex nearly combusts right then with parted lips and a twitch of his cock.

“Mmm.” You hum around your finger as you make eye contact with him.

As if he snaps out of the daze he’s in, he finally finds his words. “Up. Clothes off. Now.”

With a grin, you stand up. “Yes, Captain.” 

He strokes his cock as he watches you peel your clothes piece by piece from your body, dropping them to the floor. When you drop your last piece of clothing, he pats his thigh, beckoning you to sit in his lap. 

Who are you to deny a captain?

As you lower yourself, you straddle his lap and he groans at the sight of you, knowing he’s never seen a more beautiful person in his life. Clothes or no clothes. 

“I’ve wanted you like this for so long.” He leans in and whispers while ghosting his mouth along your collarbone.

“Me too.” You lift his shirt up over his torso and run your fingers down his well toned torso. “Why did it take us so long to do this again?”

“Because I’m a di’kut.” He sighs at the feel of your soft hands on his skin.

His fingers trail down to your aching clit, begging to be touched and you let out a soft whine. You’ve been aroused since the moment you finished getting your nails done, daydreaming about the exact scenario that’s playing out right now. You’d so hoped he’d appreciate the color choice. And he seems to more than appreciate it.

When his fingers slip into you, he groans. “So wet and ready for my cock already, aren’t you?”

You let out a soft whimper. “Y-yes… Captain.” 

“I’m never going to be able to hear you call me ‘Captain’ again without getting hard.” He complains.

“Well, if that happens…” You gasp as he thrusts his fingers. “Come find me and I’ll help you out.”

“Lucky me.” He smirks.

His fingers slide in and out of you as he watches you above him. The soaked sounds coming from your pussy make you absolutely lightheaded. You groan loudly when he curls his fingers and your eyes fall immediately on the door.

His warm breath sends shivers down your body and suddenly, you feel even more exposed, out in the open where anyone could walk in. You clench at the thought and Rex notices your glance at the door.

He chuckles softly. “I would say keep it down but something tells me you wouldn’t mind an audience… Would you, mesh’la?”

With a shy shake of your head, he pulls your face toward his, kissing you deeply. Both of you moan softly against the other’s lips as his fingers still continue to thrust into you a little quicker.

“You know I think about this perfect cunt wrapped around my cock at night?” He whispers, hotly against your mouth. “That night outside of 79s plays in my head every day.”

You let out a soft whimper and he smirks against your lips.

“So much so that I can’t help but pump my own cock to the thought of you every… single… night.” He tells you, his words lining up with his thrusting. 

If his fingers feel this good, you can’t wait to be reminded of what his cock feels like.

“Let me give you something better.” You murmur, reaching around you to line him up with your entrance.

Rex pulls his fingers out of you as you slide down onto his cock, the both of you gasping against each other. You pull his hand up and suck the fingers that were just buried in you into your mouth, making him growl. It’s probably the hottest sound you’ve ever heard. 

He flips you over onto your back onto the thin mattress of his bunk, pushing your legs back toward your chest, starting to pull out only to push back into you, rougher, drawing a gasp from your lips, making him smirk.

“Feel good, cyar’ika?” He grunts as he repeats the motion.

You nod as he pulls your hand up, admiring your nails again.

“501st blue really suits you.” He grins as he guides your fingers to your clit. “I wanna see these pretty fingers rubbing your clit. Can you do that for me?” 

“Yes, Captain.” You groan as he pushes back into you, gripping your thighs for leverage. 

“Atta girl.” He squeezes your thighs tight and you clench around him at the praise. He notices immediately and smirks down at your naked form below him. “Doing so good for me... Sucked my cock so good… Gonna make you cum on my-”

A loud moan leaves your throat as you feel your orgasm approaching. Your body starts to go fuzzy, arching up, and he groans loudly. 

“Maker, you’re so… close.” He feels like he’s losing his edge as he savors the feeling of you tightly wrapped around him. 

“Let me cum, please... I need to cum on your cock, Captain.” You beg.

Your begging nearly makes him cum right then, making his head spin. “Fuck, mesh’la. Cum for me.” 

Your body listens to your captain’s command and you let yourself get lost over your edge as you grip his shoulders tightly. Your nails dig into strong muscle as you whimper like a pathetic little mess as you bury your face into Rex’s warm neck.

“So pretty like this.” He admires your trembling body underneath him and he can’t help himself from sliding out of you and lowering himself to the floor, pulling your lower half to his mouth. 

You sit up with a gasp, still sensitive. His strong arms slide underneath your thighs, keeping you in place.

“So sorry, pretty girl. I need to taste you like this.” His voice is low and needy and you nod, running your fingers over his soft blond buzzed hair, making goosebumps race down his skin.

“Do I taste good, Rex?” You whisper, looking down into those warm brown eyes.

“Fucking perfect.” His groan vibrates throughout your cunt and it flutters around his tongue.

The way you say his name is going to be on repeat in his head for the rest of his life.

He licks into you like a man starved and seeing him on his knees for you might just be your new favorite thing. You can’t believe all of this came just from you getting your nails done.

“You taste how badly I want you?” You murmur and he hums, his hands traveling up to your breasts and gripping tightly, as if he’s holding on for dear life.

“I touch myself at night to the thought of you too, you know.” You murmur, making him groan against your soaked cunt and you grab his head for leverage. 

“More.” He tells you, meaning he wants you to keep talking. 

“I… I think about how you dragged me out of that booth at 79s… after I had been teasing you all night- ahh fuck-” You groan when he pushes a thick finger into you. “Th- The way you gripped my wrist a-and guided me to the back alleyway… fuck Rex just like that.” You whimper when he inserts another finger and curls them perfectly again, knowing you’re gonna cum for him again.

“Keep. Going.” He demands, licking into you like he could die at any second.

“The way you pushed me up against the wall and checked to make sure I was okay with it… So hot.” You whisper, making him chuckle. “And then you pulled my underwear down and put it in your pocket… I imagine at night that you smell them while jerking off, thinking about me.”

“How did you know?” He teases, sucking your swollen clit in between his lips. “Keep going, cyar’ika.”

Your brain is going fuzzy again and you know you’re about to cum.

“I… I can’t.” You whimper. “Please- I’m gonna-.” 

He chuckles, pulling away from your dripping cunt, making your eyes go wide with protest. But before you can say anything, he stands up, pushing you over onto your front and pushes into you. 

You groan loudly. Whether or not it's from how roughly he’s thrusting into you or how frustrated you are from not getting to cum again, you’re not sure. He tilts your chin enough so that he can kiss you, making you taste yourself on his tongue. 

Rex’s hand grips your hip tightly as he plows into you, making your legs slip, so that you have to wrap your feet around his ankles and grab the thin sheet. His free hand slides down quickly to your aching clit, begging for a release.

“You wanna cum again, pretty girl?” He whispers against your lips between kisses.

Words begin to fail you so all you can do is nod fervently, begging. 

“Then do it. Fucking cum around my cock so I can fill you up. You want that?” He checks, his thrusts becoming more desperate. “Need to hear it.”

“Y-yes. In me.” You beg. “Cum with me please, Rex. Need you.” 

“Oh, fuck…” He groans as you both fly over your edges, stars filling the entire room supernova style.

The way that you two fuck is something so ethereal, far surpassing normal, all you can do is clench around his cock, milking every single drop of cum he could give you.

You’re absolutely certain that everyone across base had to have heard you. But the punishment will be absolutely worth it. You’re both sure of that.

He falls back on the floor, arms resting on his knees, as you slump against the bed, partly hanging off, both of you panting as if you’d run ten miles. Rex watches his cum drip out of your fluttering cunt right onto the floor and it nearly makes him hard again enough to go for another round. But he knows he should help get you cleaned up before one of his brothers walks in. Not that they’d mind the show. He’s almost certain you wouldn’t mind either, but maybe he’ll see if you’d be up to that in a couple days. After he gets some needed one on one time with you. 

He commits the sight before him into his memory before grabbing a towel to clean you up, gently and helps you up. 

“Thanks.” You chuckle at your wobbly legs.

“My pleasure.” He leans down and kisses you sweetly and then kisses both of your hands.

“Remind me to get my nails done more often.” You tease, making him laugh.

“Only 501st blue though, right?” He teases back.

“Hmmm… Maybe that 212th orange would be fun.” You grin and let out a yelp when he playfully swats your ass on your way to the fresher.

Rex kindly starts the shower for you, lingering for a moment, trying to decide whether or not to give you some privacy. But like always, you seem to be able to read his mind and instead grab his wrist, pulling him into the shower with you.

“We didn’t get to finish talking about that night at 79s.” You murmur, pushing him against the wall. 

“Jog my memory.” He chuckles as he watches you gain strength in your legs again as you sink to your knees once more, your hand running up his toned torso. You notice how beautiful your blue fingertips look against his tanned skin as he interlocks his fingers with yours. Yeah, you think to yourself, 212th orange would never look this good.

TAGS: @rebel-finn @rexandechosandwich @madameminor @dumfanting @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @idledreams @redheadgirl @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3 @queen-of-many-fandoms @wizardofrozz  @burningfieldof-clover @rebelsriley

[holylulusworld]

Big grumpy bear – Valentine’s Day snippet

Summary: He’s grumpy. You are sweet. A match made in heaven.

Pairing: Alpha!Walter Marshall x OmegaReader

Warnings: a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, grumpy alpha, tooth-rooting fluff, pregnant reader, overprotective alpha

Big grumpy bear masterlist

Big grumpy bear - Christmas snippet

“Watch where you are going,” Walter growls at a man almost bumping into your shopping cart. He glares at the man, ready to rip him apart. “You almost bumped into my—” He gasps as you are nowhere to be found. Only the shopping cart remains in its place.

“What do you want from me?” The other alpha barks. He’s wincing at his reaction, suddenly realizing he’s going to have a face-off with a tall and bulgy man like Walter.

“Walter? Alpha,” you round the shelf, two more pillows and a new blanket in your arms.

“Y/N,” your alpha immediately turns around to take the pillows and blanket out of your arms. “Where have you been? We want to have a look at the blankets together.”

“I wanted to grab them so we can leave and go back home,” you pucker your lips and place your hand on his firm chest, feeling your alpha up. “I’m a little tired and want to cuddle with my alpha.”

He hums as you rub his chest to calm him. “You got bigger again.” Walter’s eyes drop to your middle and your belly. “How are my baby boy and baby girl today?”

“They are excited because their daddy has a few days off and will spend them with us,” you smile at your alpha. “And we are hungry.”

“Good thing I have something planned for today,” he wraps his strong arm around your shoulders. “Let me get you home and feed my hungry fiancé and our babies.”

“I want to help you, Walter,” you pout and whine. “I feel good. The doctor said everything was fine with the babies. I can help you with the dishes, or maybe make a salad. I want to gift something to you too.”

Walter cocks a brow. “Please sit here and relax. It’s Valentine’s Day and you already gave me the greatest gift,” he cups your face with both hands and pecks your lips. “You agreed to marry me and have my babies.”

“I love having your babies,” you smile against his lips. “I dreamed of becoming your mate and wife. It’s the greatest gift to me to have you in my life.”

“Give me ten minutes to finish dinner. We can eat together, and I’ll rub your back or belly. I got a gift for you too.” You grin as Walter makes his way toward the kitchen.

He turned out to be an attentive and caring alpha. Walter is not only a protector but a sweet man too. The alpha is strong and determined, but soft at the same time. “I’ll be waiting for you then.”

You look around the living room, smiling to yourself. Walter lit candles and put rose petals on the table. “Do you like the scented candle?” He calls from the kitchen. “The girl at the store said it’s good for a pregnant woman. The scent helps you relax.”

This time, you giggle. “It’s a pleasant scent.”

“Good, that’s good,” he walks back inside the room, carrying two plates. “I hope you like it. I tried to make your favorite dish. Chicken parmesan.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you,” you coo. “I can’t believe you cooked for me.” You sniffle and whimper. The hormones are getting you good today. “It smells delicious, Walter.”

“No crying, Y/N,” he places the plates on the table and immediately presses a soft kiss on your forehead. “I hope it tastes good too.”

“I’m sure it will,” you watch Walter sit next to you. He nervously looks at his plate. Your alpha loves your food, but today he wanted to do something special for you. “Relax.”

You sink your fork into the food, humming as you lift it to your mouth. “And?” He watches you take the first bite. “How is it?”

“Perfect!” You lie. It lacks salt, and the chicken is overcooked, but Walter did his best and tried to make this Valentine’s Day special. “It tastes great.”

Walter can’t take his eyes off you. He scoots closer to place his hand on your belly. “I’m so glad you decided to take care of your grumpy alpha. If not, I’d never be so happy.”

You sigh and lean your head against Walter’s shoulder. “I had to make sure you are always well fed. How could I not take care of my favorite grumpy alpha?”

Tags in reblog.