#but then the movie just kind of moves on with her story and forgets about them

[automaticstarlightcomputer]

Kind of annoyed at all the people hating on poor things just because they don't have the ability to be uncomfortable. Like just because a movie made you uncomfortable doesn't mean it was bad. Consider that a movie doesn't have to agree with things to depict them.

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [34] - Cage

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Lack of honesty can cause resentment.

Word Count: 2700

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

If anything, your day started out pretty calm.

You were petting Alpine with one hand while scribbling on the paper with the other, and you stole a look at Bucky when he entered the kitchen. He ran a hand through his damp hair and you inhaled the scent of his aftershave as subtly as you could, pretending to be busy with the file in front of you while he made his way to the coffee machine to fill himself a cup of coffee.

You could feel his glances on you as he leaned back on the counter, sipping his coffee but you ignored him until he cleared his throat.

“So when is that asshole leaving?”

You stopped petting Alpine and lifted your head to look at him better.

“Who, Rhett?” you asked. “He just got here.”

“Doesn’t he have a city to rule?”

“He left his right hand in his place, apparently,” you told him. “Why?”

“Just curious.”

You hummed, spinning your pen between your fingers.

“You should be nicer to him, you know.”

He scoffed into his coffee mug. “Yeah sorry, I’m not capable of being nice to dickheads who gaze at my wife longingly.”

“What?”

“I’m already being civil by not shooting him, and that’s only because you told me not to.”

“You’re not going to shoot—he doesn’t gaze at me longingly, Bucky.”

“Oh he does,” he shot back. “In fact, I bet he has a plan.”

Your frown deepened. “What plan?”

“He wants to—he wants to take you to Chicago,” he said, motioning vaguely and you tilted your head, your mouth slightly open. “Yeah, he’ll feed you some bullshit about never being over you—”

“He is very much over me.”

“And he will ask you to go rule Chicago with him, and then I’ll shoot him and feed his fucking body to the dogs—”

“Can I just interrupt that very creative theory with some truth?” you asked him as Alpine jumped from the counter to the floor. “Number one, even if he weren’t over me, it wouldn’t fucking matter because I am over him.”

His eyes searched yours as if he was trying to see if you were telling the truth. “…Are you?”

“Absolutely,” you said. “Number two, whoever he is with -which is not going to be me, by the way- will not be ruling Chicago with him. Chicago’s rules are different, the crown moves through blood there. Spouses are irrelevant, they’re treated worse than heirs, or right arms. Don’t get me wrong, I hate the bitch who he’s going to marry because she’s a terrible person, but I kind of feel bad for her too because no one will ever take her seriously. King consort or queen consort, doesn’t matter because they have zero power, except for providing heirs and strengthening the loyalty of families.”

Bucky blinked a couple of times. “Jesus, and we say we have medieval rules.”   

“Exactly,” you said. “And number three, I know we both keep forgetting it but we are in fact married. Even if I weren’t over him, me going to Chicago would be grounds for war and only an idiot—”

“Trojan War started the same way, didn’t stop anyone.”

“I appreciate the compliment but I’m not the underworld edition of Helen of Troy,” you pointed out. “That’s not what’s going to happen here. Unless Eric Bana shows up, that is.”

“Which one was he in that movie, Paris?”

“Hector,” you said with a sigh. “The things I’d do to him…”

“I’m glad we had this conversation because now I will have to add him to my hitlist as well.”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“The point is,” you said. “I’m not starting a war between Chicago and New York for an ex. Because that’s what Rhett is. An ex.”

“He doesn’t see you as just an ex,” Bucky told you. “You said it yourself. He trusts you.”

The sight of Rhett’s car by the campus outside your building made you stop dead in your tracks only for a moment. You could feel the smile pulling your lips as you approached him, and he took off his sunglasses to grin at you.

“Hey stranger.”

“Hey,” you said. “Look at that, you survived.”

“Mm hm.”

“I take it the same can’t be said for Lucas?”

“For him or any of his men,” he stated, leaning back to his car. “He was waiting exactly where you said he was.”

You nodded your head. “How pissed off was your father?”

“Very pissed off,” he said. “But I think it worked out pretty well, you know? Now we have sent a message.”

“The ultimate golden heir is not to be crossed or challenged,” you teased him with a small smirk. “That’s a good message.”

He heaved a sigh, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Hm?”

“Why did you warn me?” he asked. “I mean, aside from the orgasms I gave you—”

“That was a mutual transaction,” you pointed out, making him let out a chuckle and hold up his hands.

“It really was,” he said. “But seriously, we were broken up. And I know what promise he dangled in front of you. What, you didn’t even consider it?”

You made a face, shaking your head. “No.”

“Why not?”

“New York values loyalty over power,” you said. “That’s what I grew up with. I don’t do business with greedy backstabbers, neither would my father or anyone else in New York. Once a traitor, always a traitor.”

Rhett’s gaze was fixed on you, a light crossing his eyes as he let out a breath.

“Jesus…” he muttered. “One last transaction, cupcake?”

“Nope,” you said with a laugh. “Then we will get attached and we can’t have that. You have a city to take over, and I’m too smart to be put in the background in someone else’s empire.”

Rhett smiled softly.

“My father won’t do business with anyone in New York,” he said, and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I know. Everyone knows.”

“Neither will I,” Rhett said. “Until you need my help.”

Your eyes shot up to his, your stomach doing a happy flip.

“You’d do that for me?” you asked and he nodded.

“You saved my life, and proved that I can in fact trust you,” he said. “Chicago values loyalty above everything else. The least I can do is pay back the favor.”

A smile warmed your face. “I’ll come to collect, Rhett.”

“Looking forward to it,” he said and extended his hand. “Pleasure doing business with you, cupcake.”

You let out a giggle, and shook his hand.

“Yeah,” you said. “Likewise.”  

“Because I earned his trust,” you told him as his phone vibrated and he checked the screen, then typed something. Even if you wanted to ask who it was, you managed to control yourself, biting inside your cheek.

“Dr. Raynor rescheduled the therapy session for the evening,” you told him. “Your assistant told you?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I have a meeting with Anna before that so I might be a bit late but I’ll be there.”

Your brows shot up, that familiar bitterness burning your mouth. “With Anna?”

“Mm hm,” he said. “Gotta go, I’ll see you there,”

With that, he walked out of the apartment and closed the door behind him, and Alpine jumped back on the counter, meowing at you in a very demanding manner. You heaved a sigh, stroking over her soft fur.

“We’re not going to threaten Anna,” you told her, “Because that’s a fucking insane thing to do, and we’re very logical, rational individuals, right Alpine?”

Alpine meowed again and you nodded your head.

“Mm hm,” you muttered. “Exactly.”

                                               *

“I mean it’s not that I’m jealous,” you assured Becca who only watched you with her brows raised. “Obviously that’s not what’s happening here.”

She hummed, sipping her coffee.

“It’s just that she’s a bit too friendly with him I feel like.”

“Like Rhett is a bit too friendly with you?”

“That’s very different!” you protested. “Rhett and I are going to make a deal!”

“Anna already has a deal with Bucky.”

“Whose side are you on?” you asked, sulking and she let out a laugh.

“Yours, obviously,” she said. “But I’m just saying, maybe before pointing fingers, acknowledge the fact that Rhett liked you. A lot.”

“Liked,” you repeated. “Back then. Besides, I have no feelings for him and as I told Bucky, he will get married.”

“And he will have mistresses.”

“Probably,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “Alice will kill them I’m guessing. She was quite obsessed with him even while we were dating and now that Rhett says he will marry her, I do not want to think about the lengths she’d go to.”

 Your phone buzzed on the table and you checked the screen, then tilted your head. “Huh.”

“Who is it?”

“Ethan,” you said. “We haven’t talked in forever, apparently he was too busy and so was I. He wants to grab coffee sometime.”

“What is it with all your exes wanting to fuck you?” Becca asked, making your jaw drop.

“That’s not true!”

“No seriously, what are you doing to those guys?”

“I don’t do anything to them—you know what, we’re changing the subject,” you said as you put your phone back on the table. “Do you think I’ll be able to pull it off?”

“The deal?” Becca asked, “I’d say you already have.”

“Nothing is on paper yet.”

“It doesn’t matter, he flew here for that deal. He will make it.”

You drummed your fingernails on the table. “My father will have so many things to say about it I’m sure.”

“He can say whatever he wants—oh!” she sat up straighter. “Guess what I heard.”

“What?”

“Apparently, Ian is learning how to fight.”

You pulled your brows together. “I’m sorry?”

“Mm hm. His right hand is teaching him, the hot Hercules guy—”

“Ryan.”

“Yeah, him.”

You scoffed a laugh. “How did you hear about that?”

“Your father told my father and my father told my mom at breakfast,” she said. “Never too late to start I guess?”

“I mean he’s the heir,” you said with a sigh. “If the cage fight is happening…”

“You know how I feel about the cage fight tradition but for Ian’s case only, I will enjoy it,” she said. “I hate the son of a bitch.”

You squeezed her hand. “How Leila?”

“That’s actually why I wanted to meet up with you,” she said, huffing out a breath. “My mom kind of forced my hand.”

“How?”

“She and me and Leila are having brunch tomorrow.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“So I need you to tell me Leila won’t decide to dump me tomorrow.”

A small laugh escaped from your lips and you shook your head.

“She won’t,” you assured her. “Do you want me to be there? I will invite myself to that brunch, I don’t care what Winnifred thinks.”

 She looked like she was genuinely considering the idea before she made a face, then shook her head.

“Nah, I need to deal with this myself,” she muttered and you pressed a hand over your chest.

“Aw,” you said with a grin. “They grow up so fast.”

“Shut it,” she said, kicking at your shoe with hers, making you gasp. “But I’m going to need all the moral support I can get, so you will be by the phone the whole time, alright?”

You let out a laugh. “Deal.”

                                                    *

Bucky was late to the therapy session as he said he would be by fifteen minutes, and when he got there, he was rather tense. Even if you wanted to ask what had happened, you knew you couldn’t in front of the therapist so you raised your brows at him but he shook his head.

“So,” Dr. Raynor said, “Let’s pick up from where we left off the last time. How have things progressed in terms of your communication with your ex-boyfriend in the picture?”

“Him being my ex-boyfriend doesn’t play a part in our communication or lack thereof,” you said quickly and Bucky clicked his tongue.

“It definitely does.”

“I think what plays an important part in our communication is the fact that Bucky doesn’t exactly trust me.”

Bucky blinked a couple of times and turned to look at you better.

“I don’t think you should be pointing fingers here, Charm.”

“I do trust you!” you protested, making him scoff.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“You know what, if you’re being like this because I didn’t give you one tiny little detail about my plan—”

“One tiny little detail?” Bucky repeated with a laugh. “Try the whole plan.”

“You wouldn’t even spare me a glance if I pulled the shit you did back in that back alley,” you finished your sentence as if he didn’t cut you off and that seemed to take him by surprise. He gawked at you, then licked his lips, shaking his head.

“Are you serious right now?”

“What happened in the back alley?” Dr. Raynor asked, her voice almost too calm and Bucky gritted his teeth, leaning back in the couch as if he was uncomfortable all of a sudden.

“It was ages ago,” he said curtly and you hummed.

“And you never apologized.”

“I did apologize—”

“Asking me if I’m still mad via text does not count as an apology, Bucky.”

“What happened?” Dr. Raynor asked and you took a deep breath, then crossed your arms.

“I had a silly little crush on Bucky years and years ago,” you said. “Before I left for college, I made the mistake of telling him about it.”

“Charm.”

“And it’d be fine if he only turned me down but nope,” you spat, that bitter taste burning your throat again. “He had to humiliate me.”

“I didn’t humiliate—”

“Yes you did,” you cut him off and he ran a hand over his face, then motioned at Dr. Raynor.

“Are we seriously going to do this in front of her?”

“Why not?” you said. “That’s what the therapy is for.”

“And you resent him for it, Y/N?” Dr. Raynor asked and Bucky scoffed a laugh.

“Oh she hates me for it,” he corrected her and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I’m not saying I don’t trust you, I’m just saying that if I didn’t trust you, it would be with a reason.”

“Right.”

“Was there a reason behind it, Bucky?”

“No there wasn’t, other than the fact that he wanted to humiliate me.”

“Charm.”

“Y/N, open communication is very important and a huge part of it is listening,” Dr. Raynor said, making you shake your head.

“No, he really didn’t have a reason other than the fact that he was the city’s golden prince who thought—”

“My father wanted us to end up together,” Bucky cut you off, making you pull your brows together in confusion and you turned your head to gawk at him.

“What?” you asked after a beat and Bucky clicked his tongue.

“Yeah,” he said. “He kept talking about how it would be good for the business, how I should visit you in Chicago when you’d leave for college and…all that bullshit.”

You blinked a couple of times in complete silence and Bucky bit inside his cheek.

“I mean obviously I didn’t see you that way back then, but I wouldn’t have been that much of an asshole to you if that was the only reason,” he told you, his voice almost inaudible. “I thought…I thought you were yet another cage he would drag me into, that’s it.”

You could barely hear anything from the way your heart was pounding in your ears and Bucky swallowed thickly, then stole a look at Dr. Raynor and took a deep breath.

“Yeah no, I’m not doing this shit in front of a stranger,” he muttered and got up from the couch as if he was too restless, then walked out of the office and slammed the door behind him. The sound snapped you out of your haze and you jumped on your feet, grabbing your purse.

“Thanks Dr. Raynor,” you said in a haste and walked out of the office as well but by the time you stepped outside, Bucky’s car had already driven off. You let out a breath, then leaned back to the wall on the building and rubbed at your eyes.

“Oh…” you murmured more to yourself. “Fuck.”

Chapter 35

[youngsadlesbian]

TEENAGE DREAM — wanda maximoff.

pairing: wanda maximoff x reader

summary: you managed to live out your teenage dream with wanda maximoff.

a/n: this came out of nowhere in my mind and i couldn't help but write and post it, even though it's super random lol. hope you like it 😉

word count: 1k

warnings: none, just pure fluff.

The first time you saw Wanda Maximoff, she was alone on the edge of a rooftop at the Avengers compound, looking out at the horizon. The sun was setting, casting a warm golden glow over everything. You were new to the team, still getting used to the extraordinary world you were now a part of.

You approached her hesitantly.

"Hey," you said softly. "Mind if I join you?"

She turned to you, her green eyes reflecting the colors of the sunset. A small smile played on her lips.

"Sure," she replied, moving over a bit to make space for you.

You sat down beside her, letting the comfortable silence envelop both of you. There was something serene about Wanda, a calmness that belied the power you knew she possessed. As the sun dipped below the horizon, you felt a sense of peace you hadn't experienced in a long time.

In the weeks that followed, you found yourself increasingly drawn to Wanda. She was kind, thoughtful, and incredibly intelligent. Despite the chaos that often surrounded the Avengers, being with her was like a breath of fresh air.

One evening, after an especially tough training session, you decided to take a walk around the compound. The sky was clear, and the stars shone brightly above. As you walked, you talked about everything and nothing, sharing stories from the past and dreams for the future.

"Do you ever miss your old life?" Wanda suddenly asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

You thought for a moment before answering. "Sometimes. But I wouldn't trade this for anything. Being here, with you... it feels right."

Wanda smiled, her eyes gleaming in the starlight.

"I'm glad you're here," she said softly. "You've made everything... better."

You felt your heart swell at her words. Reaching out, you gently held her hand.

"You too, Wanda. You too."

As the weeks turned into months, your bond with Wanda grew stronger. You found yourself falling for her more and more each day. Finally, you gathered the courage to ask her out.

"Hey, Wanda," you nervously began one afternoon. "I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me. Like... on a date."

Wanda's eyes widened in surprise, but then she smiled warmly.

"I'd love to," she replied, a hint of enthusiasm in her voice.

You planned a simple yet thoughtful evening. A picnic under the stars, complete with her favorite foods and a cozy blanket. As you spread out the blanket and unpacked the food, Wanda looked around, her eyes shining with happiness.

"This is perfect," she said, taking your hand. "Thank you."

You spent the night talking, laughing, and enjoying each other's company. As the night wore on, you found yourselves lying side by side, gazing up at the stars.

"Have you ever wondered what's out there?" Wanda asked, her voice soft.

"All the time," you replied. "But right now, I'm more interested in what's right here."

Wanda turned to you, her eyes meeting yours. Slowly, she leaned in, and you met her halfway. The kiss was gentle, sweet, and filled with all the emotions you both were feeling. It was a moment you would never forget.

After that night, you and Wanda became inseparable. You trained together, fought together, and supported each other through tough times. The other Avengers noticed the change in both of you and were happy to see you both so content.

One night, after a long day of training, you and Wanda were curled up on the common room couch, watching a movie. When the credits rolled, Wanda turned to you, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"I was thinking about the future," she replied. "About us."

You felt warmth spread through your chest. "About us?"

"I want to build a life with you," she said softly. "I want us to be together, no matter what happens."

You smiled, pulling her closer.

"I want that too, Wanda. More than anything."

From that moment on, the two of you worked towards that future. You supported each other on missions, injuries, and the day-to-day challenges as Avengers. And through it all, the love you felt for each other only grew stronger.

Life as an Avenger was never easy, and there were times when stress and danger took their toll on both of you. But no matter how tough things got, you always had each other to lean on.

A particularly tough mission left both of you physically and emotionally exhausted. As you were together in the medical wing, tending to your injuries, Wanda held your hand.

"We'll get through this," she said firmly. "We always do."

You nodded, grateful for her strength.

"As long as we're together, I know we can face anything."

And face it you did. With every battle, every challenge, you faced it together. Your love for each other was a constant source of strength and comfort, a beacon of hope in the darkest times.

Years passed, and you and Wanda continued to build your lives together. You moved into a cozy apartment in the city, creating a home filled with love and laughter. Despite the demands of your roles as Avengers, you always made time for each other.

One night, as you were on the terrace, watching the sunset, Wanda turned to you with a smile.

"Remember our first sunset together?"

"How could I forget?" you replied, holding her hand. "It was the moment I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you."

Wanda's smile widened, and she leaned in to kiss you. "I feel the same."

As the sun set, you knew that no matter what the future held, you and Wanda would face it together. Your love had stood the test of time, and you were ready for whatever came next.

Your life with Wanda was filled with countless moments of joy and celebration. From birthdays and parties to quiet nights spent together, each milestone was a testament to the love you shared.

On one particularly memorable anniversary, you decided to recreate your first date. You set up a picnic under the stars, just like that night many years ago. As you laid out the blanket and unpacked the food, Wanda's eyes sparkled with delight.

"This is perfect," she said, holding your hand. "Thank you for always making me feel special."

You smiled, pulling her close. "You are special, Wanda. Every moment with you is a gift."

As you lay side by side, looking up at the stars, you felt a deep sense of contentment. Your love for Wanda had only grown stronger over the years, and you knew that no matter what challenges came your way, you would always have each other.

As time went on, you continued to grow together, both as individuals and as a couple. You supported each other in new endeavors and challenges, always striving to be the best versions of yourselves.

One day, while working together on a new project, Wanda turned to you with a thoughtful expression.

"Have you ever wondered what the future holds for us?"

"All the time," you replied, smiling. "But I know that whatever happens, we'll face it together."

Wanda's eyes softened, and she reached out to hold your hand.

"I love you more than words can say, detka."

"I love you too, Wanda," you said, pulling her close. "And I always will."

Life had its ups and downs, and there were moments when the challenges seemed insurmountable. But through every trial, the two of you faced it all together, your love being a constant source of strength.

A particularly difficult period tested your resilience like never before. You had been trying to get pregnant, and it turns out that you couldn't. Wanda presented a certain difficulty with this. As you lay together, Wanda whispered words of comfort and reassurance.

"We'll get through this," you said firmly. "We always do."

Wanda nodded, her eyes filled with determination. "As long as we're together, I know we can face anything."

And face it you did. Through every storm, every setback, the love you felt for each other remained unwavering. You emerged stronger, more resilient, and more deeply in love than ever before.

As the years passed, your love for Wanda only deepened. At some point you realized your dream of being a mother. The twins, Billy and Tommy, filled your life with a light that you didn't know could exist. Logically, it brought another dynamic to your routine, but you learned to love every peculiarity of it.

With Wanda by your side, you knew you were capable of anything.

[winterrain-11]

some gravity falls hcs :3

- The twins love divorced dad rock. they didn’t really even listen to it growing up but they will listen to it unironically (dipper cries to second chance by shinedown)

- soos names his kids after mabel, dipper, and stan of course, but he tried to name his fourth stanley jr before melody explained that juniors don’t work like that. his next suggestion was waddles which was also turned down

- along with this, soos was DEVASTATED when he found out that dipper wasn’t his legal name. he refused to let dipper tell him what his legal name was for years until melody said that they couldn’t put dipper as a first name

- mabel’s cat and waddles are mortal enemies it’s giving dipper and robbie wanting to k!ll each other when wendy isn’t looking. dipper knows but will NEVER tell mabel

- soos and melody basically took pacifica in after her parents sold the manor and subsequently got more abu$!ve. she takes over for wendy as cashier at the mystery shack after wendy leaves for college

- as soon as mabel gets her braces off, dipper has to get his own. he gets clear bracket bands and mabel (who originally didn’t want to make fun of him for braces bc she knows how much they suck) bullies him relentlessly for looking like a dork.

- mabel eventually publishes children’s books with her scrapbook-style drawings and they’re a hit.

- when dipper first came out as trans, he wanted to be called tyrone. mabel supported him wholeheartedly and was so excited to have a bother, but had to sit him down and BEG his white ass not to use tyrone.

- Mabel had a lot ocs that she writes fanfiction about when she’s bored. she has a hella wattpad following and everyone loves the absurdity of her plotlines

- stan and ford very quickly realize they know NOTHING about actually maintaining and sailing a boat. it was a hell of a learning curve and they almost capsized multiple times

- ford loves the big bang theory and also minion memes. he periodically discovers new memes from 2010 and tries to incorporate them into his convos. he once walked in a room and said “here come dat boi” and mabel gagged

- stan still has significant memory gaps from time to time along with relapses in forgetting. when the twins finally got used to it, dipper started telling stan fake shit that he did over the summer to seem cooler, but mabel would just privately tell stan much lamer, embarassing fake stories about dipper to counteract it

- ford was devestated to find out that doctor who ended a few years after he got sucked into the portal but ten times more excited when he learned about modern who. he loves 10 so much (he kind of looks like young fiddleford. only mabel has made this connection)

- wendy takes a liking to pacifica after she becomes close with soos and melody. she eventually gets her own place on the outskirts of gravity falls and they regularly hang out and watch movies, wendy gives her advice about independence and moving away from the toxicity of her family

[rookiesbookies]

Inspired by my lovely mutual @shotmrmiller and a second submission to #Soapitup (im summonimg you again @glitterypirateduck ). Im actually going to name this one and it’s called:

A doll and his loser.

Its loser!reader x sex doll!Reboot!Soap

Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, don’t forget to leave me a comment or a request in my inbox to let me know what yall want to see!

Especially let me know if you want part two

Fic under the cut as always.

Edit: im incredibly dyslexic im so sorry for typos

When the line of 141 sex dolls, which were based on random men she had never heard of who seemed just magically created for this line, showed in a sketching email in her inbox, she must have been truly weak that night. She had been incredibly drunk and disappointed by a man who just didn’t even bother to bring her pleasure. So of course she ordered the sketchy, ‘satisfaction guaranteed’ doll. There were choices, quite a few actually. But it was the beefy Scottsman that stood out against the rest, she couldn’t tell you why. Maybe it was his soft face, his muscles, or maybe the outfit he came with, it could even be his hair. Sure there was a photo of what his cock looked like on the sight, a normal length with a great amount of girth, but she wasn’t too picky.

She had completely forgotten about the lifelike sex doll she ordered, she learned was named ‘Johnny’ until the giant box that weighed more than she did sat on her doorstep. She quickly shoved the package marked ‘fragile’ in her door. The gibberish language on the side of the box wasn’t one she recognized, she realized as she struggled to get the box in. She gently put the box on its side before grabbing a butter knife from her kitchen.

When she got the sides of the box open she saw his face. So much softer in person, with his long lashes and plush cheeks. She traced her thumb over his cheek and over his lips before his eyes gently fluttered open at her touch. He seemed almost surprised before his eyes relaxed. It must be the personality software? It did say something about that. His eyes a crazy blue, the kind that looks like the ocean meeting the sky, they were so glossy and sweet, they seemed, truthfully, real. She brushed it off, its just a doll, this was a high tech sex doll, at least that's what the marketing said.

He studied her features and watched to lean into her warm touch, but his rigid body wouldn’t allow it.

She did her best to get the heavy doll out of its box. Dragging it into her bedroom. Even his hair is life-like, which was crazy.

When she got him onto her bed she propped him up against the headboard of her bed, his eyes watching her every move as she walked back out to search for his manual.

“Stupid company didn’t even send me a manual.” She grumbled, a few things were written on the box.

‘Ejaculates like a real man!’ ‘Life-like groans!’ ‘Tease him to get him up!’ ‘Built like a real stallion!’ There was a forth thing that the words had pulled off of when she tore off the tape, now it was illegible but she saw it pointed to the lips, so she assumed they were ‘soft like a real man’s!’

He was almost static in whatever position she put him in, one of his arms hovering in the weird position she left it in.

He seemed almost too lifelike, the way his eyes watched her.

“What?” She asked, “you seem surprised.”

She was met with silence.

“Oh, who am I kidding, you’re a fucking doll. You’re not going to reply to me, this isn’t some X rated Toy Story movie.” She grumbled before her stomach grumbled back. So she left her doll man to get some food.

She cooked herself a quick meal then went to go shower, completely forgetting about the doll as she stripped until she noticed the large bump in his change.

“I didn’t realize stripping to shower meant teasing,” she thought out loud. “At least now I can check if you were marketed correctly.”

She gently undid the belt on the doll’s pants, which seemed like real high quality jeans a real person would wear, before undoing the button and the zipper. Sliding down the waistband of his underwear she noticed the monster.

Her eyes flew wide, “maybe I should ask for measurements next time,” she mumbled, she wanted to faint. “They didn’t tell me you had a horse cock, big guy,’ she chuckled to herself, his eyes almost looking prideful, pupils seeming larger with almost bedroom eyes. They must have some crazy tech.

“I must really be losing it, talking to myself,” she sighed.

She let her fingers gently graze his dick before she spit on her hand, she wrapped her fingers around his fat cock delicately, not reaching all the way around. She sighed before getting up to pull more lube from her night stand. One of her hands, now covered in lube, began to massage him while her other hand began to rub around her pussy.

She hummed, mumbling about how needy she was, how guys had disappointed her in the past, what she wanted. This went on for a few minutes until she was sure she was prepped, awkwardly climbing on top of her beefcake sex doll before lining him up with her hole and sinking down. His eyes rolled back but she didn’t notice because her’s did too.

“Oh fuck,” she mumbled almost pitifully, letting her head fall against his hairy chest, a tattoo of a Scottish flag pulled tight on one of his pecs. “I haven’t been filled like this in so long.”

She sat there and adjusted, hands balled into fists against the doll’s chest. A chest that felt so warm and inviting.

She slowly began to rock her hips, soft whimpers and moans falling from her lips that got louder as she began to bounce on him. She supported herself with one hand while the other was in her mouth to suffocate her louder moans. Her eyes teary from the girth of him.

The doll let out little groans and moans too that slipped from behind his sealed lips.

It wasn’t long before her tight walls began to flutter, he came almost instantly when they began to flutter, she gasped at the feeling but kept going until she reached her own peak. But it wasn’t quite enough, so she kept bouncing. He came faster and faster, cock starting to ache because of the bonnie lass that was riding it. With a cunt like that on him he couldn’t help but shoot hot, white spirts into her.

When she got off him, it slid down her inner thigh, she swiped it up and stuck it in her mouth which made him almost faint.

“Jeez, it tastes real too,” she said like a question before walking away.

She got a wash cloth she had been planning to use for a shower and cleaned up the dolly with gentle touches. She felt like she needed to treat him like a real man, he was so close it seemed. She zipped his pants back up and set him on the ground before putting a sleep mask over his eyes.

“Nothing personal, I just don’t know how to put you in sleep mode and I don’t want to accidentally turn your dick on again when I get out of the shower.” She said before hopping in the bathroom. Her pussy was sore to say the least, but the good kind, the kind that makes a girl feel well used and fulfilled, she did her best to get the most of that fake cum out of her cunt.

After she scrubbed herself clean of the day and of that fulfilling session with her doll she made her way back into her room and flopped on her bed before crashing and falling asleep.

She used him about every other day or so for the next couple weeks before she started ovulating. She was like a bitch in heat, her body couldn’t calm down. She was flushed and couldn’t stop. She had two days off from work and pulled Johnny from where he had been set on the chair, returning him to her bed. The weird doll must have realized something weird was happening because it- he- was immediately hard. She immediately got on too of him, she had tried other positions but cowgirl was just the easiest by far with Johnny. She immediately lubed herself and him up, pumping him twice to make sure he was fully hard before sliding on.

The broken moans that fell from her mouth were a chorus of angels singing in his ears.

“I feel like such a loser,” she whined, “talking to and fucking a sex doll instead of a real guy, i feel like a weirdo.”

She put her head to his chest with whimpers falling from her mouth. He had already cum, his noises turning to the broken ones they always did before he came, a nice audio cue for the doll to have.

“Just a little more, please,” she whined to her doll.

After she rode out her high she laid sprawled out against his chest.

“I wonder how you’d be im bed if you were real,” she asked no one in particular. She was so especially weak right now. Ovulation making her so needy and sad, she couldn’t help but place a gentle kiss to his stiff lips as she let her eyes flutter closed to take a breather before the horny took back over.

She didn’t feel his stiff body relax, she didn’t notice anything until his plastic-y fingers ran up and down her waist.

“You won’t have to wonder any more, bonnie lass.” His voice was a low grumble in here ear, his scottish accent loud and clear. “How do you want it, I’m going to take good care of you.”

Hope you have a wonderful day, lovely reader💜 you deserve it

ALSO SIMON’S IS UP NOW.

[mygaynesshasnolimits]

guys. Something really really gay must've happened on Jan 11, 2024 for azzi to go unapologetically LESBIAN on goodreads

Some personal opinions/ramblings, some paraphrasing, and some straight up copy and pasting below:

"Tipping the velvet" - Sarah Waters' books are a lesbian league of their own. someone needs to tell azzi about Fingersmith (and the movie "the handmaiden") really goes with their interests in suspense/mystery/thriller bonus lesbians.

"She drives me crazy" - basketball player and cheerleader, enemies to lover, forced proximity and "Hijinks, heartbreak, and gay fake-dating scheme"

"She gets the girl" - description: "Alex Blackwood is a little bit headstrong, with a dash of chaos and a whole lot of flirt. " does that sound like someone we know? (paige, obv) Anyways the book has the 2 girls in college who end up falling for each other.

"forget me not" - "Stevie and Nora had a secret, epic, once-in-a-lifetime kind of love. They also had a plan: to leave their small, ultra-conservative town and families behind after graduation and move to California, where they could finally stop hiding that love." but one of them has an accident and memory loss ensues and they have to fall in love again.

"her name in the sky" - Hannah, a high schooler finds herself in love with her bsf, Baker. "Hannah longs to be with Baker, who cooks macaroni and cheese with Hannah late at night, who believes in the magic of books as much as Hannah does, and who challenges Hannah to be the best version of herself."

"keeping you a secret" - high school seems to be going fine for Holland Jaeger until Cece Goddard shows up and everything changes. "Cece and Holland have undeniable feelings for each other, but how will others react to their developing relationship?"

"I kissed Shara Wheeler" - a month before their hs graduation, chloe's rival, Shara, kisses her and vanishes. She leaves clues and such around for Chloe, who ends up discovering a lot about Shara and her small town.

"Delilah green doesn't care" is more adult and just cute and smutty 👀

"one last stop" - is a gay, time travel-esque romance novel. It's gay.

"written in the stars" - opposite attraction. 2 women "develop real feelings during a fake relationship." I remember it being pretty spicy.

(although we (I) really don't know their story, the books set in high school feels reminiscent of their story)

[its-all-or-nothing94]

One Night // Tom Glynn-Carney x f!Reader

Summary: Where reader goes out with her friends and meets this charming, sweet (and so fucking) hot guy in a club.

A/N: This is the first fic I have published based on a real person. I don't know Tom, this is just puuuure fiction, thank you very much! It's actually just a short little One-Shot :)

Ship: Tom Glynn-Carney x Reader

Warnings: Language (is it tho?), mentions of having sex, use of alcohol, One Night Stand

You have always thought of yourself as a pretty ordinary person. You had a decent job, a decent apartment, and a group of friends that you could count on for a good time. So when your best friend, Emily, suggested you go out to a trendy new club in London, you thought, why not?

The club was packed, the music loud enough to make you feel it in your chest. You weren't usually one for these kinds of places, preferring a quiet pub or a cozy night in with a book. But tonight, something felt different. You wanted to let loose, to forget about the mundane for just one night.

After a few drinks and a lot of dancing, you found yourself at the bar, slightly tipsy and in need of a break. That’s when you noticed him. A man standing beside you, ordering a drink with an easy confidence. He had a rugged charm about him, with tousled blonde hair and an intense gaze that seemed to see right through you.

“Having a good time?” he asked, his voice smooth and inviting.

“Yeah, better than I expected,” you replied with a smile. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Tom,” he said, extending a hand. You shook it, feeling a strange spark at the touch.

You chatted for a while and you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company. He was funny, down-to-earth, and didn’t seem to have any of the pretentiousness you often encountered in these places. He didn’t mention his job, and you didn’t ask. You talked about music, movies, and travel – all the things that made life interesting.

Your laughter mingled with the thumping bass of the music, your body moving freely to the rhythm. Tom's eyes, a striking shade of blue, sparkled under the dim club lights as he leaned in closer. Your conversation flowed effortlessly, a seamless exchange of stories and laughter that felt strangely intimate for two people who had just met.

Before you knew it, the night had flown by, and the club was starting to thin out. Tom glanced around, then leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "Do you want to go somewhere quieter? Maybe talk without shouting over the music?"

You hesitated for a brief moment, then nodded. There was something about Tom that made you want to throw caution to the wind, to embrace this rare sense of spontaneity. "Sure, why not?"

You walked through the bustling streets of London, the cool night air a refreshing contrast to the heat of the club. Tom hailed a cab, and you slid into the back seat, a comfortable silence settling between you. The ride was short, and soon, you stood in front of a sleek, modern apartment building. Tom unlocked the door and gestured for you to enter.

You stepped inside, taking in the stylish decor. The apartment was a perfect blend of modern chic and cozy comfort, with clean lines, soft lighting, and personal touches that hinted at Tom’s personality. He led you to the living room, where a leather sofa dominated the space, flanked by bookshelves filled with an eclectic mix of literature and knick-knacks.

"Make yourself comfortable," Tom said, heading to the open-plan kitchen. "What can I get you to drink?"

"Surprise me," you replied, sinking into the plush cushions of the sofa. You watched as Tom expertly mixed two drinks, his movements confident and precise. He handed you a glass, your fingers brushing briefly, sending a jolt of electricity through you.

"To unexpected nights," Tom toasted, raising his glass.

"To unexpected nights," you echoed, clinking her glass against his while you were blushing slightly.

You sipped your drinks, the alcohol warming you from the inside out. The conversation picked up where it had left off, but now there was an added layer of intimacy. You sat close, your knees touching, voices low and hushed. Tom's gaze never left your face, his eyes tracing your features as if trying to memorize them.

The air between you grew charged, the unspoken tension crackling like static. You felt your pulse quicken, your breath coming in shallow bursts. Tom set his glass down and leaned in, his hand gently cupping your cheek. He paused for a heartbeat, searching your eyes for any sign of hesitation. When he found none, he closed the distance, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and passionate, making your heartbeat quicken.

You melted into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pulled him closer. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you lost in the moment. The kiss deepened, your bodies pressed together, a hunger igniting between you.

Tom's hands roamed over your back, tracing the curve of your spine while your fingers tangled in his hair. You broke apart briefly, gasping for air, your foreheads resting together. "Are you sure about this?" Tom whispered, his voice husky with desire.

"More than sure," you replied breathlessly, your heart pounding in her chest.

What followed was a whirlwind of passion and desire. Clothes were shed hastily, discarded in a trail leading to the bedroom. You moved together with an urgency that bordered on desperation, your bodies finding a rhythm that felt both new and familiar. Tom's touch was gentle yet firm, his kisses searing a path across your skin. You felt more alive than you had in a long time, every nerve ending alight with pleasure.

You finally fell asleep in each other’s arms, your bodies entwined, the city outside just a distant hum. The night had been a blur, but one thing was clear: it was a night neither of you would soon forget.

You woke up to the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains. You carefully slipped out of bed, not wanting to wake Tom. You dressed quietly, glancing back at him, a sense of something deeper stirring within you. You shook it off, knowing this was a one-night stand, nothing more.

You scribbled a quick note thanking him for a wonderful night and left it next to Tom before slipping out the door. The cool morning air hit your face as you stepped outside, swirling within you a mix of exhilaration, confusion, and a hint of sadness.

Back in the apartment, Tom woke up to find the note. He cursed softly under his breath, realizing he had forgotten to ask for your number. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the note in his hand, feeling a strange emptiness. For once, he had met someone who treated him like a normal person who didn’t care about his fame or his job. And now you were gone.

You walked through the quiet streets of London, replaying the events of the night in your mind. You knew it was just a fleeting moment, a brief escape from reality, but it was a night you would never forget, a night that made you feel truly alive.

As you reached your apartment, you couldn’t help but wonder what might have been. But you pushed the thought away, determined to hold onto the memory of a perfect night with no regrets. Life would go on, but you would always have that one night in London, with a man named Tom.

Later that morning, Tom found himself at their usual rehearsal spot, a grungy but cozy studio tucked away in East London. The rest of the Sleep Walking Animals were already there, casually tuning their instruments and chatting amongst themselves.

“Morning, mate,” Joe greeted Tom, plucking at his guitar strings.

“Morning,” Tom replied, his voice absent-minded.

Alex, noticing Tom’s distraction, smirked. “Someone’s got their head in the clouds. Or should I say, still in bed with that hot Y/H/C from last night?”

Tom shot him a look. “Shut it, Alex.”

“Oh, come on, Tommy boy,” Bill chimed in, drumming a rhythm on the edge of a table. “You looked proper smitten when you left the club. She must’ve been something special.”

“She was,” Tom admitted, slumping down onto a battered old couch. “But she buggered off before I could even ask for her number.”

“Savage,” Jack said, shaking his head. “Didn’t even leave a name or nothing?”

“She did,” Tom replied, running a hand through his hair. “Y/N. That’s all I got.”

“Y/N,” Nuwan mused, his fingers dancing over the keys absentmindedly. “Could be anyone, mate.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious,” Tom muttered, frustration evident in his tone. “It’s just... I dunno, she was different. Didn’t give a fuck about who I am or what I do. Just treated me like a normal person.”

“Well, you are a normal person, mostly,” Joe teased. “Except when you’re whining about a girl like a lovesick puppy.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Tom said, but there was a hint of a smile.

“Can’t believe she just legged it,” Bill said, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “What, were you that bad in bed?”

The room erupted in laughter, and Tom threw a cushion at Bill. “Piss off, Caple. It was great, thank you very much.”

Alex leaned over, grinning. “So, did you shag or not?”

Tom rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face. “Yeah, we did. And it was... it was amazing.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it bad, mate,” Jack said, strumming a chord on his bass. “Bet you wish you could find her again.”

“Yeah,” Tom admitted, his voice softer now. “I really do.”

The guys exchanged looks, the teasing dropping away for a moment.

“Look, mate,” Joe said, more seriously. “We’ve got a gig tonight. Maybe you’ll meet someone else who’s just as cool. Don’t get too hung up on one girl.”

Tom nodded, knowing Joe was right but still feeling the pang of regret. “Yeah, I suppose.”

Nuwan started playing a familiar tune on the keys, and the rest of the band gradually joined in. The music filled the room, and for a while, Tom let it carry him away, the notes and rhythms a welcome distraction from thoughts of you.

But even as they played, your face lingered in his mind, a reminder of a night that felt all too fleeting and a connection that was painfully out of reach.

You sat with your friends at your favorite coffee shop, a cozy little place with mismatched furniture and a laid-back vibe. Emily, Sarah, and Jess were all there, sipping on their drinks and catching up on the latest gossip. You knew it was only a matter of time before the conversation turned to you.

“So, Y/N,” Jess started with a sly grin, “anything interesting happen last night? You disappeared from the club pretty quick.”

You felt your cheeks flush. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Sarah echoed, her eyebrows raised. “Come on, spill it! Who was the guy?”

“His name’s Tom,” you said, trying to sound casual. “We met at the bar, hit it off, and... well, I went back to his place.”

“Oh my God, Y/N!” Emily exclaimed, nearly spilling her latte. “You had a one-night stand? With a guy you just met?”

“Yeah, I did,” you admitted, unable to hide your smile. “And it was amazing.”

“Details, please,” Jess demanded, leaning in. “How was he? What was his place like?”

“He was... incredible,” you said, feeling the warmth of the memory. “Funny, down-to-earth, and not full of himself. His place was pretty stylish too, very him.”

“Sounds like a dream,” Sarah sighed. “And you didn't get his number?”

You shrugged. “No, I left early, and he was still asleep. I didn’t want to wake him. Besides, it was just a one-night thing.”

“Still,” Emily said, shaking her head, “you should’ve left your number or something. What if he wants to see you again?”

“I doubt it,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant. “He probably doesn’t even remember my name.”

“You never know,” Jess said with a wink. “Maybe he’s thinking about you right now, regretting not getting your number.”

“Yeah, right,” you said, but a small part of you couldn’t help but hope Jess was right.

“Anyway,” Emily said, changing the subject, “my brother’s got tickets to this gig tonight. Some indie band. He asked me to come, and I thought it could be fun. You guys in?”

“Who’s the band?” Sarah asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Sleep Walking Animals,” Emily replied. “Ever heard of them?”

“Sounds vaguely familiar,” Jess said, shrugging. “Why not? I’ve got nothing better to do.”

“Same here,” Sarah agreed. “Could be fun.”

“What about you, Y/N?” Emily asked. “Got any plans tonight?”

You shook her head. “Nope, nothing. I’m in.”

“Great!” Emily said, clapping her hands. “It’s a plan then. We’ll meet up at my place and head over together.”

As you finished your coffees and chatted about other things, you felt a strange sense of anticipation building inside you. You weren't sure why, but the thought of going to this gig excited you. Maybe it was just the idea of a night out with your friends, or maybe, somewhere deep down, you hoped for something more.

[eddiernunson]

Really Drives Me Mad | EX-bfs dad!Eddie Munson x Reader | 18+

Previous Part | Master List | Next Part

Word Count: 12.8k

Big big thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing for me I appreciate it, bestie

Another big thank you to @bebe07011 for spitting ideas and giving feedback.

Warnings: Degradation/praise, eating out, public sex, daddy kink, and several scenes where smut is mentioned but not described. There is about 1k of words just from Dylan's perspective but its worth it trust me.

Eddie is a bit of a sugar daddy in this part, but its ok cause we all want him to spoil us anyway.

Author's note: Some of y'all are gonna make me cry with how kind you are with your words for this fic. I cannot believe how much this story has truly taken over my life. People have expressed sharing it with friends and I just cannot get over that. Thank you.

-

Your hands held a home-made cocktail on ice while The Princess Diaries played on the tv, a soft blanket covered your crossed legs as you sat with both Sky and Bethany in your living room, scattered along your couch.

Bethany often snuck a joint or two while she visited, the window staying open to minimize a smell with a 20-dollar fan in front of it to promote air circulation. It was nice to have a girls’ night, to order bags of chips and candy over SkiptheDishes, wear face masks, do your makeup for the hell of it, and just let loose.

Bethany made her way over about a movie and a half ago, and she was now explaining a stupid mishap from her office administrative position that quite literally pulled the company to a halt for 45 minutes. “I swear, you could not pay me enough to put up with those drivers.” She claims, taking an inhale from the joint in her two painted fingers.

Sky makes a sudden movement in her seat, reaching to the remote next to her to pause the movie. “Holy shit. Did I tell you I saw Eddie?” Her question is directed across you to Bethany, and you’re left wondering why the hell your boyfriend is the new topic of discussion.

“Wait, what?” Bethany asks, wide green eyes moving back and forth between you and Sky. “When and where?”

“Our date?” You interject her, a little weirded out by the turn this conversation has taken. “When Eddie picked me up, she was here.”

“Oh, I see.” She hums to herself. “Well, since she won’t show us a photo, please tell me what the man who’s old enough to be her father looks like.”

You roll your eyes at this, a cheeky thought occurring to you. “Well Dylan might be great; but he is a sequel. Ain’t nothing compared to the original.”

Sky nods, agreeing. “Eddie is… very good looking.” You shoot her a warning look, for some reason, her just alluding to his good looks makes you feel territorial. “Show her a picture if you don’t want to hear it, damn! Just telling the truth…”

“It’s not that I won’t show you guys,” you explain, unlocking your phone. “It’s that he doesn’t use social media, so he has no good photos of himself.” On the internet, at least.

“What, no throw back photos from Dylan’s insta?” Sky asks, mostly joking.

You go to Dylan’s insta, and you can’t view it. Fuck, you forgot. He blocked you. Even though he seems to be on better terms with you, simple reminders like being blocked from his social media or him refusing to tell any details about his life remind you he’s still nursing a healing wound. “Still blocked.” You look up, and their faces tell you they’re not letting up on it. “Fine. I’ll go to Eddie’s Facebook.”

Eddie added you as a friend the day after your date, adorably waiting as you went on your phone to accept it. The moment you did he went onto your profile and dove into your photos. His eyes were comically wide as he scrolled through them, and after the first few swipes he lifted his head to you. “You just put these on here? Fuck.” The photos weren’t even particularly bad, just you in a bikini on the beach or in a summer dress, he’s just that obsessed with you. You asked him if he minded and he shook his head comically, his dimples so prominent from his wide smile, he looked manic. “Oh, I never said to stop, sweetheart.”

Your thumb slides into Eddie’s profile, and while you were afraid of the calls from a judgemental relative about the relationship with him the word single on his relationship status still hits you hard in the chest. You move to his photos, past the useless profile picture that was his company logo of Munson’s Garage and swipe through the regular posts, past Dylan’s graduation from college, from high school, a picture of a nice car, an old one of his ex with Dylan, (barf), until you finally got through to a throwback, one posted in 2011.

It was taken in the 90s, so a picture of a picture of him sitting at an old kitchen table arm in arm with another dude. One of his feet was up on the table, and he was clutching a beer, lifting it to the camera. His friend was talking to someone off camera, distracted for the moment, his slightly freckled face in a scowl. His friend had brown hair down to his neck styled specifically in a swoop, and they seemed about the same age.

His friend was quite attractive, but younger Eddie made you fucking drool. God, he was so gorgeous. He wore a leather jacket under a denim vest, ripped blue jeans over his big black boots. Fuck. You almost didn’t want to share this photo.

You go to the next photo, and a giggle leaves your mouth as you see him posing with a friend, tongues out and devil horns on their heads as smiles peek through. The background is a stage at an Iron Maiden concert, and they both look ecstatic. It’s a different friend in this one with curly hair, but it looked like he had posted from the Iron Maiden concert. A few more scrolls told you that the throwback photo would be the best option.

“Ok.” You finally say, and both girls have been waiting so long at this point they’ve started scrolling on their own phones. “Guys. You wanna see it or not?”

You hand your phone to Bethany, indicating he was the one on the right. The possessiveness that hits you when you see her reaction, her wide eyes and jaw literally dropping, stunted you. “Holy shit. This is him from how long ago?”

“In the late 90s, I guess.” You tell her.

She hands the phone to Sky, who was asking for it repeatedly as soon as Bethany let out her reaction. “Oh, yeah. He was a cutie. Honestly, he’s hotter now.” Your teeth grit, and you take a deep breath in to calm yourself.

“How?” Bethany asks, gesturing to your phone.

“Ok. Enough. He’s very good looking. But he’s fucking taken.” You bark out, holding your hand out for the phone.

They both stop talking, your sudden anger very uncharacteristic of you. Usually when you find someone particularly good looking, you’d show them off, agreeing with your two friends when they would praise their good looks. This wasn’t anything like those times. Hearing their praises just makes you want to sink your teeth into Eddie’s neck and mark your territory the next time you see him.

“Woah, girl.” Sky says, laughing lightly to diffuse the tension. “Never seen that side of you before.”

“Well, I didn’t even know she existed until a waitress looked at Eddie on our date and I wanted to throttle her,” You admit, grabbing the nearly empty cocktail and taking a sip. “I just…I don’t know why I’m so territorial over him, but God, the thought of him with someone else makes me sick to my stomach.”

Bethany holds her hands up in surrender, “Alright, we won’t compliment him anymore. But you did good, girl. You did mighty good.”

-

As per usual, the girls'-day-in resulted in the three of you falling asleep in the living room, blankets and pillows scattered across the three of you. The sun cascading through a window by the couch wakes you up, disgruntled, as you pat around for your phone. The screen greets you harshly, your notifications indicating you have three messages from Eddie, two from a manager at work, and the several random ones, which you clear out, not caring about Instagram stories for the moment. Eddie texted to say he was going into work for a few hours. The next two messages indicated if you were there when he got home, he wouldn’t be against it.

Basically, he just told you to please be there when he got home. Fuck, the feeling of him reaching out first was enough to send a wide smile to your face, staring stupidly at your phone. You message him back, letting him know you’ll be there.

The messages from your manager were one from two hours ago, asking if you’d be able to come in for 10 o’clock– Which was thirty-five minutes ago– and the second asked if you were able to come in at all. You quirk your eyebrow, glad your read receipts are off for her, because you’re planning now to text at 3 o'clock to let her know that, oops, you just saw this. No, you’re not going in on your day off, you’ll be spending it with your ridiculously hot boyfriend.

You leap from your couch, running into your room to pack another overnight bag. You’re out the door before the others even stir.

As you pull into Eddie’s driveway, you notice Dylan’s truck there, but Eddie’s is still gone. You wonder when he’ll be back, because although Dylan is civil towards you, interactions with him are still stunted. You open the front door, grateful Dylan tended to leave it unlocked. You drop your overnight bag and pillow off at the staircase, its usual spot, before you trot off to the living room where Dylan sits watching tv.

As you plop down next to him on the other side of the couch, Dylan looks to you, startled by the movement, but his eyes roll in exasperation when he realizes that it’s you. “Hi.” You sing-song to him, knowing you’re annoying him, but having fun with it anyways.

“Hey.” He deadpans, watching the tv instead of looking over to you.

“Oh, wow you’re almost caught up.” You say, indicating to a show that you had recommended he watched a while back.

“Turned out to be a good show.” He comments, sounding annoyed.

“Well, how about that?” You retort, and Dylan rolls his eyes before a small smile lands on his face.

Progress.

Less than an hour later, the front door closes, indicating Eddie’s homecoming. He walks in, and as you pay attention to a particularly good episode in this series, you hear a big stretch come from him. “Hi, Ed!” You call out, finally turning towards him.

Fuck. Holy shit.

A few grease stains paint Eddie’s hands and chin, and he’s wearing a pair of blue coveralls from work with a patch on his chest of his name. The grease monkey suit shows off his muscles beautifully, both sleeves rolled up to his forearms. His hair is tied back into a messy bun, and you’re sure he forgot about the reading glasses on his head. Oh god, he is mouth watering.

A throw pillow hits your face, completely startling you. You whip your head around, glaring at  the culprit. “Little drool.” Dylan mouths, pointing to his chin.

“Oh, little drool?” You mock, getting up to hit him with the pillow hard. He chuckles, fighting you off.

You push his shoulder off, shuffling into the kitchen. You turn to see Eddie moving around the kitchen, making himself a quick sandwich. “Hi baby!” You greet him, reaching out for him.

“Oh, hi baby.” He says, following up with an air kiss. He breaks into laughter at your scowl. “Sorry, you don’t want this grease on you. It smells terrible and it’s not fun to wash off.”

“But there’s no grease on your lips.” You point out, staring at those pretty pink lips of his.

“Baby, I cannot kiss you without touching you and there is grease all over my hands.” He chuckles, holding them out.

You want to point out that he’s getting things dirty with grease in the kitchen, including his sandwich, by his own logic, but you have a feeling you won’t get away with it very easily. “Fine. Come see me when you’ve had a shower then.” You tell him, attempting to waddle back to the living room.

“Ah, ah.” Eddie tuts, grabbing your hand. “Come with me, after I shower, I need time with you in my bed.”

“In your bed? Or, in your bed?” You ask, your eyebrows furrowing suggestively at the second option.

“If you didn’t know the answer by now, clearly I haven’t done my job right.” He says in a lowly, his eyes darkening in an instant.

Eddie turns around to the sandwich he made as if he hadn’t said a word, grabbing it quickly before tugging on your hand to take you up the stairs.

He hops into the shower, you scroll through your phone on his bed as you wait, somewhat impatiently, your panties already uncomfortable from his stroll into the house in his work uniform.

Fuck, he was hot. You thought about him. His muscles, the slight glisten of sweat, and your phone was tossed aside before you even realized your hands were roaming over your body. You close your eyes, the image of him busy at work on his back on one of those…rolly things in your head. His forearms flexing, the look of concentration on his face.

Your hands itch for your center and you can barely hold back anymore, thankful you opted for a pair of stretchy shorts. Your fingers graze your center easily, rolling around in small circles as you picture the easy access his coveralls would give you, showing up with a dress and no panties and just riding him in his office. Fuck, maybe you wouldn’t even make it there. Goddamn, the images were too hot, your panties finding their way around your ankles as you grind up against your own fingers.

“Fuck.”

Your eyes fling open to see your boyfriend in his towel. You were so wrapped up you didn’t even notice the water from his shower turn off. He’s staring, open mouthed and eyes dark, and Jesus… This was a fantasy of yours from the beginning. You continue, staring half lidded back at him, hand grabbing up at his bed frame when it started to feel so fucking good.

Eddie’s towel drops when his brain catches up, jumping into his bed to lay next to you. “Couldn’t even wait, huh?” He asks, and you let out a whimper as he lightly kisses your neck. “Just couldn’t fucking wait.”

“You were so hot—” you gasp out, moving faster on yourself now. “—in that goddamn uniform. Wanna…wanna ride you in it.”

The very indication that you were playing with yourself because you found him that hot in his uniform is too much for Eddie to process. He nearly moans, leaning for another kiss on your neck. His hands are itching to help you, itching to take off the rest of those clothes that hide your gorgeous body, but he holds back, needing to know more about it. “What—what were you thinkin’ ‘bout, baby?”

“You, in the uniform…” you tell him, your hips starting to move when your want grows. Why isn’t he helping?

“C’mon, baby. I wanna touch you but I just gotta know.” Eddie tells you, his voice gruff.

A gulp moves through your throat before opening your mouth to tell him. “Your dick out of the uniform, and me with no panties and a dress at your shop, riding you anywhere…your office, the rolly thing, god, just you in that uniform…Ed…”

Goddammit, was that an idea Eddie certainly had before. He has wanted to show you around his workplace, but also christen it with you, and he had had the exact idea with his uniform and you in a dress, to boot. “Fuck, my horny, eager little slut, hey?” Eddie asks, watching your closed eyes as you continue to work yourself.

“Please…please touch me?” You ask him, the torture of his voice there but not actually helping you is too much. “Want…want you.”

“Hmm. Horny little slut didn’t wait for me…I dunno if she even deserves my help.” He bluffs, wanting nothing more than to reach out and feel the slick of your wet pussy.

You nearly cry out in protest, not calling him on his bluff. “I’m sorry, couldn’t help myself…you’re just so…fuck…you’re so fucking hot, Ed.”

He leans in to kiss you and you accept it gratefully, a smile against his lips. As his lips move against yours, deepening the kiss to easily work his tongue against yours, his hands land on yours against your pussy delicately, gently pulling your fingers to the side. He slides a digit in and you whimper into his mouth, your hips thrusting up. “Oh, so fucking desperate.” You nod your head, agreeing with him. You’re desperate for more. Even with Eddie on your mind, your fingers never even compared to his.

He leans into your neck, the scent of his aftershave and body wash strong but oh-so-goddamn good. He slides your shirt up your torso smoothly with his free hand and pulls it from your neck fiercely. You feel his hand somewhat desperately go around your back to unhook your bra, and as it falls casually over the edge onto the floor, he moans at the sight of your exposed tit, your nipple just begging to be touched.

He leans in to mouth the bud, and you whimper at the sensation. He pauses, breathing heavily and open mouthed onto it. You gasp, his hot breath sending waves down your body. “Fuck, so pretty.” Eddie mutters to himself, dark eyes watching your face as you get closer.

A desperate hand of yours tugs him up to your face, desperate for more of his wet and hypnotizing kisses. “Fuck me.” You gasp, suddenly feeling that his fingers weren’t enough. “Need…need your cock. Please.”

Eddie’s mouth opens at the prospect of you simply begging for him, and you can feel a shift in his energy as he starts to kiss you deeper and hungrier. “When you beg so sweetly, how could I possibly say no?” He hums, his hand framing your face.

He finishes yanking the last of your pants off your ankles. As he settles himself in between your legs, he can’t help himself. He leans down, taking one long lick along your folds, for just a taste. You whimper in response, knees springing up to your chest. Eddie chuckles, crawling up slowly until his chest lines up with yours, the tingle of him against you too much to handle. Slowly, he moves into you, and as he stretches you open, your eyes roll back and your toes curl. Eddie watches the utter bliss that takes over your face.

“Oh that beautiful face you make, sweetheart.” He grunts, smoothing his hands over your forehead. His words make you pulse around him. “This fucking tight little pussy wrapped around—” he stops, grunting as you continue to pulse around him. One hand moves down to your hip, caressing it softly he uses the leverage to buck into you.

A hushed swear comes out of you, the simple pleasure from his cock alone sending you into euphoria. Eddie continues slowly, enjoying every inch of your heat around him. “Your pussy…god how did I live without it?”

You clutch onto him, staring up into his darkened brown eyes. You open your mouth to respond in kind, but the particularly harsh rut into you leaves your mouth gasping open and your eyes fluttering shut in pure heaven. “Oh, that’s it.” He mutters, hips moving faster. “That’s my cock-drunk little whore.”

Your nails scratch down his back, and he moans in response. “Eddie, your cock. There’s…I…please.”

“I-I know, baby. I know.”

He collapses onto your chest, and you feel his cock twitch into you as your orgasm takes over your body. His hand carefully sweeps your sweaty forehead as he watches you recover, your eyes losing their haze as you return to earth. “Hi.” He mutters, leaning in to kiss you softly.

“Hi.” You smile. For once, he does take his dick out of you right away, despite your protests. However, you can’t protest any further when he comes back and wraps his arms around you with his chest pressed against your back, his still steadying breaths lulling you into a quiet nap.

Somehow, you know that his arms are always going to be the best place in the world.

-

About an hour later, you’re snuggled against his side, legs intertwined as Eddie watches his show and you work on a crossword puzzle. “What’s a six-letter word for angry?” You ask him, stumped for a good minute.

“Uh…grumpy? Heated? Hmm…raging?”

“Raging! Fuck, I couldn’t get that one. Thanks, baby.” You tell him, receiving a kiss on the head as a response. “Why’d you go in for work, Ed?”

“Other than making my baby horny?” He jokes, muttering it into your hair. “Well, one of my best-known clients called and my men know that when he calls, they need to call me in, because his car is just—” he cuts himself off, holding out the OK sign. He continues talking about the mechanics/politics of handling a car like this in his job. The caliber, the horsepower, the specialized engine, and everything else.

It’s not like you know a whole lot about cars. Most of what he is saying comes out as gibberish. But you listen to him, watching as he gets more and more animated, his hands gesturing wildly as he excitedly explains his morning. You watch him, a soft smile creeping up your face as he describes…what, you weren’t even sure, to you.

He stops as he notices the peculiar look on your face, your eyes glazed over. “What?” he asks, wondering if you caught even a word of his story.

“I love you.” It comes out before you even realize. But it’s true.

With your whole chest, you love him.

Eddie inhales sharply, and he looks at you like you had placed each star in the sky just for him. Because you did. “I-I’ve been wanting to say that to you since I first saw you.”

His words feel both impossible and like they make the most sense in the entire world. Because since day one, you have been captivated by him in every sense imaginable. Taking the time to get to know, see and love every inch of him before recognizing that yes, this is love.

This all occurs to you within a second, because Eddie’s hand is framing your face and you feel his lips on yours, deep and caring to a point that takes your goddamn breath away. Your tongue collides with his, and his fingers are so gentle as they cradle your face it barely feels like he’s holding it. He tastes so good, like the air you breathe is suddenly useless, and all you need to do is breathe him. His fingers intertwine in your hair, he gasps as his forehead collides with your own, clinging onto you for dear life.

“Will you say it?” You ask, realizing he still hasn’t.

“I fucking love you.” He says in a low, soft voice. He uses a hand to force you back and you open your eyes to look into his beautiful brown ones. “I love you.”

Your chest inflates rapidly, like all the emotion just bursts into it. A giggle escapes your lips, the smile on your face seeming to be permanently etched there. He tugs you into the tightest hug, and you feel his heart beat rapidly against your own as your arms fling themselves around his torso, burying your head in his neck.

God, it’s like you fit perfectly there.

He slouches down, ignoring the book you dropped and the forgotten tv show, and lays you down, chest to chest, his arms wrapped around you as you curl into his chest. He nestles his nose into your hair, breathing you in, feeling the breath, the life in you as you breathe in sync with him.

Any sense of time, responsibilities, or the outside world become muted and pale in comparison.

It’s just you and him.  

-

The sizzling sounds of bacon for dinner mixed with Eddie’s humming to some oldies fill the kitchen. Every time he turns around from the stove to grab something, he shoots you a smile that captivates his face, something that you wholeheartedly return each time. The acknowledgement that this is love somehow didn’t feel like it had tied you to anything or that any new expectations were put on either one of you. You simply want his company and he, yours.

You scroll through your phone absentmindedly, though the sight of his hips in his low sitting sweatpants are much more enticing than anything your phone’s algorithms have to show you. Playfully, Eddie keeps dancing a little too hard to the music, head banging and swinging his hips to even the softest of Dad Rock.

God, it’s Heaven. As Eddie serves up a few plates, Dylan comes down dressed in one of his better date night outfits.

“Ooh, hot date?” You ask him, leaning forward onto the kitchen island.

Dylan’s brows furrow, stopping mid stride. “Yeah. Not talking to you about that. You’re still my ex. And you’re still seeing my dad. Weirdo.”

Eddie sends a glare his way, eyes darkening in a split second. Dylan rolls his eyes, sneaking around him to grab a bite of bacon. Ignoring it, Eddie places a plate in front of you with eggs, bacon and toast, and you thank him as he leans in for a kiss.

“Love you.” Eddie mutters, and you smile into his lips and feel him do the same.

“L-love?” Dylan spits out, his voice exasperated. He shakes his head, still chewing on the bacon. “Fuck right off.”

“Dyl.” Eddie starts, leaning forward as he takes a bite from his toast. He has a devious smile on his face, chewing on his idea. “Quiet. The adults are talking.”

If you had expected something out of pocket, it certainly wasn’t that.

The brown eyes Dylan shares with his father widen in pure exasperation. “What?? Dad, I’m six months older than her!”

You barely keep in the laughter that bubbles out of your chest. Eddie grins at you and lets out his own chuckle. “That’ll teach you to be an ass, huh?”

Dylan doesn’t respond, just grits his teeth and yanks one more piece of bacon before leaving through the front door.

-

Dylan Munson got dealt a dirty fucking hand from whoever the fuck is in charge of this shit.

It was only a mere nine weeks ago when you made your way across the mixer to say hi to him that he thought things were going his way. The more he saw you, the more he thought that this had to be leading to something. It made sense to him, but as he had started mentioning long term plans or anything of the like, he could feel you clam up. Every time he mentioned something requiring commitment, your shoulders tensed up, your face winced by only a smidge, but when it became a regular occurrence, Dylan realized you might not have been ready as you thought you were.

He was willing to accept it. So, he took matters into his own hands. Honestly, he would’ve been fine paying the daily fee for parking, but he knew his dad was there, and he was excited to introduce you to him. Boy, what a shit show that turned out to be.

As he woke up to an empty bed, he had expected you to be downstairs. Instead, he was faced with a bowl of cereal without the milk, and he couldn’t tell how long it had been there. He searched the whole house. Your bag, clothes, and shoes were still there, so he knew you couldn’t have gone far. Turns out, he was right. You didn’t. You went two doors down from his own.

The sight of you and his fucking dad in the white sheets was already too much to bear, and then the stab of betrayal from his own father hurt more the initial shock of yours, tugging angry tears from his eyes as he ran to his room. The torture of hearing your whimpers, a sound he knew well, while downstairs trying to cheer himself up was fucking brutal.

When you finally left, his dad came home with a terribly apologetic look on his face as he walked through the front door. Dylan refused to hear a damn word out of his mouth, dismissing all his claims of ‘holding back as long as he could’ and ‘I’ve never felt this strongly about anyone before.’ Shit just hurt.

A day later, Dylan couldn’t hold it in anymore. He screamed at the top of his lungs, the anger finally kicking in. His dad did yell back, but mostly at the choice words aimed at you. It hurt for a moment, as it felt like he cared more about someone he had met last week, his (now ex) girlfriend.

When you and his dad showed no signs of slowing or stopping any time soon, he realized this would become a new normal. Didn’t mean he liked it.

He came home after a relatively long day at work to you and his dad sitting and watching a movie comfortably. His knee jerk reaction was to swear angrily, but the look on your face stuck with him. You had never relaxed with him. You were always looking around corners or there was some part in your body unable to lean into him completely.

As you apologized awkwardly on his bed, his hurt finally felt acknowledged by you, and fuck, he needed to hear that he didn’t do anything wrong. He genuinely started to wonder if he did.

Most of his nights he spent going out, his friends asking where the hot new girlfriend he was bragging about now was. He just said you cheated on him and it was over and they called you a bitch and moved on.

Yes, even Ethan. (The one friend you actually liked)

He drowned his sorrows in alcohol, always making his way back to the house where his ex was expected to be at any given time. God, it was so shit.

After your apology, though, he had to admit, you looked good together. It seemed like his dad’s smile just hadn’t left his face for days, and goddamn, was it annoying to admit that you were good for him. That remaining anger seemed to itch at him, unable to forgive or forget, a buried hatchet with an X to mark the spot.

Ethan eventually brought his girlfriend to boys’ night out, which was met with disgruntled groans from the collective group. Ethan’s girlfriend invited a friend who would be joining, and Dylan fought hard not to roll his eyes.

An hour into the night, a drink, and a few good dances in, Ethan’s girlfriend brought her in, and Dylan stopped dead in his tracks. Okay, no one said she would be fucking gorgeous.

If Dylan thought you were out of his league, then Maya wasn’t even playing the same game. His heart pounded out of his chest, and he knew he had to grab this girl a drink and get her number, now. As he pulled into an easy conversation with her, the hairs stood on his arms as it felt electric just being near her.

Maya met his enthusiasm, agreeing to a date within the first hour of conversation with him. One of his buddies mentioned Dylan had been cheated on by his most recent girlfriend, and Maya was floored. If any girl was lucky enough to have him, how could they even think of cheating?

As Dylan rode home in the backseat of his friend’s truck, drunk on her undivided attention and, well, plain ol’ drunk, something his dad had said came to mind. “I can’t explain it, I just had to know her. In every sense of the word.”

He felt the same way about Maya. Everything about her drew him in. Her smell, the way her jeans hugged her hips, the shine of her red hair. God, she was fucking beautiful.

As he smelled bacon on the way down the stairs, he decided to grab a piece on his way out to his first date with Maya, jitters galore. You asking him about the date was kind, but still too weird for him to gush about the gorgeous girl from the bar he met when that ‘gorgeous girl’ was once you.

Love you, his dad said. The word struck him, it occurred to him he doesn’t truly understand how much you and his father cared for one another. The L word didn’t come easily to Munson men, after all. Dylan walked to his car, disgruntled as the interaction rolled over in his mind.

What a mess he would be bringing her home to, if he ever got lucky enough.

-

Since you worked the next day, you had to go home for the night. The lingering kisses at Eddie’s door were too much to bear.

Too much for Eddie, too. You get a text about twenty minutes after you get home, Need you.

You grit your teeth, you need him, too. Working four days in a row sounds manageable, at least it usually does. Without Eddie to come home to or to wake up with, it’s nearly torture. You ignore Skylar’s comment of codependency. Fuck co-dependency, it isn’t that you depend on him too much, you just need him too much. You need to come home to him, to sit and watch tv with him… It’s the domestic bliss you miss.

Somehow, just reading a book at the end of the night without his even breaths has you on edge. You shoot him a text letting him know you’d be there soon.

As you walk through the doorway of Eddie’s house, he welcomes you and you hop into his arms, inhaling his shampoo as soon as you get close enough to, his familiar scent bringing you an indescribable feeling of safety.  “Need you to stop leaving for so long.” He mutters, feeling nearly crazy for missing you so much while you were gone.

You hum in response, staring into his pretty eyes as they stare down at you lovingly, resting your chin on his chest.

“Move in with me.” It’s impulsive.

You blink, unable to register what he just said. “Uh, what?”

He chuckles, hoping the stunned look on your face is a good thing. “It’s stupid for you to keep moving back and forth between here and your apartment all the time. Move in with me.”

It’s a tempting offer. Could you do it? Realistically, could you bring your things in, set up your skin care routine in his bathroom, have a horde of snacks at your disposal, bring Bethany over for sleepovers…is it possible? He watches as you think it through, and his heart skips a beat as he watches it falter. “I-I can’t. Not yet, at least.”

His head tilts curiously, eyebrows furrowed. “Hmm?”

“I’m still tied to my lease for another three months.” You can’t abandon Sky, not after all this time. “Skylar would be pissed if I just up and left her to either scramble for a new roommate or for a new apartment.”

Was that it? “Oh,” Eddie says, relieved. “I can pay that.”

His answer momentarily stuns you, and a gorgeous laugh escapes his lips as he takes in your slack jaw and wide eyes. “W-what?”

He leans in, kissing your lips sweetly. “Sweetheart. I’m not gonna wait another ninety days when I can just pay it now and get you here tomorrow.”

“You’ll pay my half?” You ask, eyebrows raised, a light smile on your face.

“What’s your rent?”

“1800 for the apartment, we both pay 900 plus utilities.”

He does the quick math. “Oh, so 54 (hundred) to buy the lease out? Yeah, I’ll pay it. Might relieve Sky from being pissed at me for stealing her roommate.”

The casualty of his words drench your underwear, his urge to take care of you sending a heat to your center you can’t explain. You lean in, swiping your tongue on his bottom lip, showing your appreciation. “Can-can we go upstairs?” You ask him, out of breath.

Eddie smiles, taking in your lust-blown eyes and slack expression. “You know that’s not why I offered, right?”

The overwhelming happiness bubbles up from the inside and you shoot a wide smile up at him, chin resting on his chest again. “I know. Still, baby. Want you. Please,”

Eddie smirks, framing your face with his thumbs lightly. “When you say it so nicely, how could I ever refuse?”

You tug him by the hand and start running up the stairs. A yelp echoes through the house as Eddie grabs at your ass near the top, and when he lies down on the bed, you can’t get his cock down your throat fast enough.

-

To say the least, Sky couldn’t find it in her to be angry. She was going to miss you, more than she could describe as her roommate. She also had a three month warning to find a new roommate or a new apartment and had ample time to put at least some money aside while she didn’t have to pay for rent. She really had nothing to complain about. Still, she was gonna miss you.

As soon as the lust of him offering to take care of you died down, you went into overdrive, remembering how stressed you were when you had to move in your current apartment, a lease you’ve renewed twice now. You started making a list of things you needed, working between your phone and a random spiral notebook you found in a junk drawer. How many boxes did you need to get? If you used both Eddie and Dylan’s trucks how many hours would it take to move down the stairs-only building you had?

“What’re you working on?” You hear his voice over your shoulder.

“Oh, just working out the kinks of moving. My car won’t be enough, I’ll need your guys’ trucks to help. I also have my own furniture to worry about. The entertainment center is hers, but the couch is mine. My dresser, my bed, my bathroom shelf, all my bathroom junk—”

“Baby.” He interrupts you, a hand sliding up to your neck. “Relax. I can hire someone to take care of all of this for you. Just focus on packing your things and directing the men around on where to put them.” He places his hands delicately beneath your chin. “Ok?”

Fuck, you might just blow him again.

“Ok.”

And you did just that. You shared your list to Eddie’s phone, who called a smaller moving truck with three men to assist, hired an organizer to assist in organizing what you do or don’t need and who will handle selling your furniture, and finally, paying the rest of your rent to your front office without blinking an eye to get you out of the lease.

Soon, you were on the driveway on a hot day, watching as all the boxes containing your clothes, shoes, makeup, and other junk went up the stairs to Eddie’s (and now your) bedroom, a few staying downstairs.

He stands next to you in a white muscle shirt with a band you don’t know pictured on the front and some sweats, hands on his hips as he watches the movers go back and forth between the house and the truck. He radiates authority, each mover couldn’t be much older or younger than you, but they all look to him with respect, all of their words followed by the word ‘sir’.

“Sir, huh?” You ask, teasing him.

Eddie slightly grimaces, rejecting it. “Yeah, they insisted.”

“Dunno, kinda suits you.” You tease, and you walk back to the house, missing the audible gulp that comes from his throat, imagining it. You, on your knees, begging for him, calling him sir…

“Sir?” One of the movers asks, getting his attention. He flicks back, seeing the clipboard held in front of him. “Need you to sign.”

“Oh, shit, sorry.” He mumbles, picking up the pen to sign.

As he signs his name, Dylan pulls up, taking in the men, the truck, the boxes on the floor visible past the open front door. “She’s moving in?”

Eddie looks at him, apologetic. He had asked you yesterday, and since then, he hasn’t had time to sit down and tell Dylan in person. “Sorry, bud. Kind of just happened all at once.”

Dylan thinks of his new girlfriend’s apartment, the night he had just spent wrapped up in her sheets. “I-I get that.”

Eddie blinks, expecting more of a push-back. “So, dad. I met this girl.” Oh, that explains it. “She’s…” the smile that lands on Dylan’s face is peaceful, and Eddie feels both curious and reassured. “Anyway. I wanted to bring her over for dinner to introduce her. Is that okay?”

A firm hand lands on Dylan’s shoulder, bringing him for a hug. “Of course, bud. When did you want to bring her over?”

“Friday at 6?”

It’s Wednesday, so that gives you both ample time to unpack and get the house ready for a dinner guest. “Friday works. Bring her over.”

“Hey, do you guys need any more help with the boxes?” He asks, running into the house.

Eddie doesn’t answer as he stands, stunned at the change in his son over the last, what, week?

The next two days make Dylan realize although he was in a much forgiving mood, he’s going to need to move out and fast. Just when he thought the two of you were bad, he didn’t realize how much worse you’d be when you moved in. In hindsight, he wasn’t sure how he didn’t see it coming.

Soon, he texted a friend he knew who was looking for another apartment about maybe moving in together after realizing your moans were not coming from your bedroom as he grabbed his keys and booked it for the front door.

You were on Eddie’s laundry room floor, wrapped in his arms, with only your shirt around your torso and his hair halfway out of its ponytail. You were still in the middle of recovering; Eddie edged you twice before finally letting you finish. “Did you hear the front door close?” Eddie asks, still breathing heavily as he does.

“N-no.” You gasp, moving your head up to face him, his chest hair tickling your chin. “Were we that loud?”

Eddie laughs, letting a thumb pet your face lightly. “Have you ever tried to be quiet, sweetheart?”

You shut him up with a kiss, slippery, but filled to the brim with everything you had. “Shut up.”

“I love you.” He mutters as you wrap yourself in his arms, and you whisper it back into his chest. “We do have company coming over, so we should probably finish unpacking.”

You groan lightly, but Eddie takes your hands and forces the two of you onto your feet, your knees lightly buckling. “I have so much stuff! There’s so much left to unpack.”

“Oh, I’m sure unpacking yourself into the second half of the walk-in is so hard, baby. C’mon, I’ll help you out.”

Again, Eddie’s house looks humble from the outside, but it was nothing to snark at. As he made more money, he slowly upgraded and renovated instead of just moving into a bigger house. The one upgrade that wasn’t really for him, but a constant reminder of what he lost, was the his-and-hers closet he had made for his ex, something she only enjoyed for six months before leaving him. He was excited to see your dresses, skirts, pants, and underwear in his closet, and especially your smell. Basically, he was excited for your invasion of the house.

You walk over to his–your–room where there are still boxes sitting, waiting to be unpacked. You start unpacking the one labeled dresses/skirts. As you start laying out a pile, separating the skirts you knew you weren’t gonna wear from the ones you would, Eddie sidled up beside you, pulling one you knew looked good on you up from the pile you weren’t gonna wear. “Hey, hey. Why haven’t I seen you in this one?”

You hesitate in your answer, pulling two more dresses out before answering. “Dylan fucked me while I wore that.” You admit, and he drops it immediately. He pulls another one up, hands moving over the silky blue fabric. Damn that one looked great on you. “That one, too.”

He drops it unceremoniously, hands moving to his hips. “Which ones hasn’t he touched you in?”

You put your hands on the much smaller, less appealing pile. “These.”

Eddie sighs, scratching his head. “Alright. We’re going shopping.” He announces, placing the pile of your old ‘rejects’ onto the floor.

“Huh?” You ask him, not sure you heard him correctly.

“Yep. Just leave all the clothes in a pile right there, and on Saturday I’m taking you shopping.”

“Baby, I work Saturday.”

“So call in.”

After Eddie helps you settle in for the next day and a half, you spend a good portion of your Friday in the kitchen, working in tandem to make supper together. You place plates at the dining room table Eddie and Dylan barely used, straighten up the napkins and the utensils when Eddie comes from behind you, and you feel his cock press right up against your ass. You grind back into it, closing your eyes and whimpering.

“Ed, they’ll be here in like,” you let out a sigh, “half an hour.”

He turns you, giving you a dirty kiss and gripping your hips harshly. “Then we better get moving.” He slips your dress up your hips and your underwear down.

“Hmm…take off your pants.”

He slips his cock in, bending you over the table, making you gasp. “Already off, baby.”

-

Dylan pulls up in his truck, now having to park in the same spot you did in the street since you took over his spot on the driveway. “So, this is my house.”

“For three more weeks?” Maya asks, teasing him.

He lets their hands intertwine, leading her to the door. “I did grow up here.”

“Yet your dad is kicking you out.” She says, eyes narrowed.

“No, not kicking me out…” He drifts off, when Maya’s green eyes silently ask him, he dismisses it. “I’ll tell you later. C’mon.” He unlocks the front door, and as soon as it’s open, a very peculiar, very annoying sound is heard echoing in the house.

“Fuck, Ed, oh shit.”

Maya’s eyes go wide, it takes her a second longer to understand what they were listening to than it did for Dylan. Dylan shuts the front door, shoving his hand into his pocket for his phone. He dials his dad right away. “…Hello?” Eddie asks after three rings.

Dylan puts him on speaker. “Dad, wrap it up, we’re here.”

“Shit, sorry. Give us five—” the sound of your giggles interrupts him, “sorry, ten minutes. W-we’ll call you.”

He hangs up.

Maya’s face is the picture-perfect expression of what the fuck. “Dyl, when you said your family dynamic is odd…”

“I meant it. C’mon, let’s go for a walk to the corner store.”

Maya is taken aback, but she easily falls in line as Dylan holds his hand out for her. “Can’t believe the first thing I heard from your dad was that.”

“Darling, I have never meant it more than I have right now.” Dylan assures her, and she can see how much he means it in his brown eyes. “My dad has met my girlfriends in worse situations. Just be glad we didn’t see anything…’cause that was not coming from their bedroom.”

-

Eventually, you had to go upstairs to find a new dress to wear, Eddie having completely soiled it during your tryst as he phoned Dylan to let them know they were in the clear. Turns out, the two of you had time blindness when it came to one another, because neither of you were even close to done when Dylan had called.

As you climb down the stairs, there’s a knock on the door, and Eddie meets you there in time to open it to face Dylan and his new girlfriend. It was an intriguing feeling, opening the door to Dylan while Eddie’s arm was behind your back. Like a couple welcoming their son home. It was…bizarre to say the least. “Hey, sorry about—”

“It’s fine, dad. Rather not talk about it.” Dylan insists, his arm around a pretty redhead.

“Sure. Come on in.”

They step in, Maya taking a look around at the place as she does. “Maya, this is my dad and his girlfriend, Y/N. Guys, this is Maya.”

You weren’t used to Dylan being suddenly so cool with you and Eddie being together. He’s never out loud said that you were his dad’s girlfriend before without rolling his eyes or gagging. Whatever he had with Maya seemed to bring him some peace.

Thank god, you didn’t know if you could handle more eye rolls from Eddie’s 25-year-old teenage son. “Maya! Nice to meet you.” You hold your hand out to her, which she accepts graciously.

You remember meeting Eddie as a father to Dylan, and while your thoughts were occupied, whatever you were expecting for Dylan’s dad, it certainly wasn’t Eddie. You could see it clear in her face she wasn’t expecting this metalhead, either.

“Hi, Mr. Munson, nice to meet you.” She extends her hand to Eddie, and Eddie just about loses his mind.

“Ew. Don’t. Call me Eddie. Please.” Eddie gags, the same reaction he had when you addressed him that way when you first met.

“Oh. Sorry. Nice to meet you, Eddie.”

Eddie smiles back, purposefully dressing himself down as a parental figure. You could tell he was poising himself differently for them. Whether it was self consciousness over the last time he met a girlfriend, or making it clear to Dylan he had no plans for a second contender, it did the job.

“Alright, the dining room is this way.” You extend your hand out down the hall, leading the way out of a somewhat awkward situation.

The four of you sit at the table, both men at the heads of the table while you and Maya sit across from one another. Eddie picks up the salad bowl, plating himself quickly and handing it over to you. “So, Dylan. Tell us how you and Maya met.”

They both start the story, eager to share. “Oh, can I tell, Dyl? You always get to.”

“Fine by me.”

Maya giggles softly before facing you and Eddie. “Well, my best friend sort of ditched me to tag along to guys’ night, and I refused to be ditched, so I got myself ready and ended up being fashionably late. When she invited me, I was already done for the night, pajamas and all but I got dressed up out of pure spite.” You chuckle, that’s something Bethany would do. “I got to the club, and suddenly I saw Dylan, and I didn’t want to talk to anyone else for the rest of the night.” She looks over to him, her eyes soft and her pink lips in a sweet smile. “He just drew me right in. We talked for so long we didn’t even realize it was time for last call.”

“Wow.” You comment, taking the last bowl in rotation from Eddie’s hands, the stir-fry vegetables. “Sounds like you guys have a great connection.” You look at Dylan at the last word, hoping he receives your message.

“Oh, we truly do.” Maya grins, Dylan shooting a wink at her in response.

Eddie grabs your hand under the table, and you hold it, petting at the tough skin and colliding with his rings.

“Our first date was incredible.” Maya mentions off-hand but doesn’t elaborate. If it was anything like your first date with Eddie, you knew better than to pry further. “So Dylan told me how you guys met, tell me about that.”

You and Eddie share a look of surprise at how casually she mentions it. You weren’t expecting her to know yet, in fact you were wondering if Dylan was going to tell her at all. Eddie lets out a chuckle. “A shitshow, let’s just say. When Dylan found us, it just became real messy in here.”

Unfortunately, Eddie missed the continuous waving Dylan was doing across the table to stop, please!

“How would meeting online make things messy?” Maya asks, the story Eddie had just told her and the story Dylan explained not exactly lining up.

“What?” Eddie asks, now unsure himself.

Your hand meets your mouth in understanding, facing Dylan with his head in his own hands. “Baby, I don’t think he told her, yet.”

“Nope.” Dylan musters out, annoyed.

“Oh.”

“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” Maya asks, watching everyone’s facial expressions one by one.

Dylan sighs, not ready to explain this part. “They didn’t meet online. Remember, my ex? The one who cheated on me?”

Maya rolls her eyes. “Of course I remember that bitch.” She says, giving you a look that says, ‘am I right’.

Dylan sighs, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Uh, Maya?”

“Hmm?”

“That’s her.” He says, pointing to you. “She cheated with my dad.”

Maya looks at you, dumbfounded, as you wave with a tight smile on your face. Being called that cheating bitch behind your back was certainly a new development from him. Not the…greatest feeling in the world. She looks to Eddie, who isn’t smiling, somewhat insulted on your behalf, but gives a friendly wave nonetheless.

“O-oh.”

“I said my family dynamic is different, didn’t I?”

“I thought you meant with how young she is…”

“There’s that…and there’s this. It used to hurt me a lot more, but honestly, since I met you, I don’t really feel that pain anymore.�� He says to her. “I wish we could’ve had this conversation in private, but I guess I didn’t warn them.” A new hardness reaches Maya’s eyes as she looks at you, and you’re slightly taken aback by it. “Don’t be mad at them, because I’m not anymore. Well, mostly anyway. My dad said when he met her that he had to know everything about her or he was going to lose his mind.” You look to Eddie, and he winks at you slyly as you mouth the words I love you to him. “I used to think that was bullshit… But when I met you, Maya, I felt the same way, and I realized I couldn’t blame them for pursuing it if it was half as strong as what I felt when I saw you.”

The ice in Maya’s stare all melts the gloss in her eyes. “That’s still super messed up.”

“One hundred percent.” Dylan looks over to you and Eddie, and you’re wondering if the two of you were supposed to leave the table and give them privacy. “But now…they look good together. They’re good for one another. She puts this smile on his face that I never get to see anymore, and she seems more happy with him than she ever was with me.”

Your phone buzzes in your chair under your thigh. A text from Eddie. For the record, no one feels as strongly for anyone as I do for you. No one ever will.

You look at him and he nods once, his lips in a firm line. Your hands reach for his, interlocking with his. “Maya, I know you didn’t mean to but I would appreciate you not calling her a bitch.” Eddie tells her, parent voice on. “Now that we have all that out of the way, Maya, tell us what you do for work.”

-

Maya was a peach, and she seemed great for Dylan. As she helped clear the table she asked Dylan a question and it led to him announcing he was moving out. Out loud, Eddie gave him a proud hug, telling him it was a great idea.

To you, Eddie pumped his fist in celebration. As you washed the dishes that night, insisting Dylan and Maya go enjoy a movie on the couch, Eddie comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around you. “When Dylan finally moves out, I’m fucking you on every surface in this house. I might just tell you to stay naked for easier access.” He leaves a wet kiss on your neck, and you’re left to imagine the possibilities as he adjusts himself while clearing the rest of the table.

True to his word, as Saturday dawns, Eddie wakes you up two hours before you start work and tosses your phone to call in sick for it. You text your manager at his request, and as soon as you hit send, Eddie sends you to his bathroom to get ready for a shopping day. In your first outfit, a pair of shorts and an oversized sweater, Eddie looks up and down at you exasperated and tells you to go get all dressed up and put some makeup on.

When your hands land on your hips at this he backtracks hard. “Of course you can wear what you want, baby! I just know that you love to get all dressed up, and I thought it would be fun for you. That’s all. We’re going to be trying on lots of clothes and I want my girl feeling her best.”

Okay, he has a point. An hour passes by, Eddie moving around you as he gets dressed up himself, less dramatic than his date night outfit, but dressed up all the same. As you finish, a wing on your eye, he comes behind you, looking over your shoulder for something. “You know I used to wear eyeliner all the time?”

“I…no?” You stutter, turning to face him.

“Might put some on today.” He mutters, slightly teasing you.

“If you don’t want to scare the general public, maybe we’ll save it for a date night, Ed.” You yank the pencil away from him, terrified that if you look away for one second, he’ll go overboard.

“Not even a little on my water line?” He asks, and you suddenly realize that yes, he does want some makeup for the day.

“I don’t see why not.” You shrug.

Now you walk hand in hand in the largest mall in town, starting the journey down the large aisle, leading Eddie. But eventually, Eddie ends up leading you, knowing exactly which stores he wants to go to. In the first store he takes you to, you look around the racks timidly, putting away anything you see over 20 bucks. In less than five minutes, Eddie comes by with a pile of clothes in his arms. “I’m gonna get a dressing room started, ok?” He pauses, noticing the 45 dollar dress you just put back. “Ooh, can you hand me that?”

“No, it’s too much.” You insist, looking at the large pile of clothes he has. You thought he meant like, three or four items at the most.

“I didn’t ask how much it was, sweetheart. Hand it over.” He tells you, to which you do. Only five minutes later, as you have only picked out two or three more dresses yourself, does he swing by and tug you to the biggest dressing room, the walls decorated with clothing.

“I-I’m not trying all of this on, am I?” You look around, it would take you at least an hour, and that’s if you hurried.

“Yep. And you’re showing me every piece.” He says, before closing the door on your stunned face.

“Eddie, this is way too much.”

“No complaining, just show me the first one!” he yells to you, no real bark behind his command.

The first dress you wear was a bit revealing, an open back, up to your thighs with a cowl neckline that shows cleavage. He smiles at you, leaning his elbows onto his knees in the seat offered in the dressing room. “Nice… Do a spin.” You roll your eyes, spinning for him slowly and timidly. He whistles lowly. “Man, I’m good. Next!”

He asked for a spin in everything you modeled for him until he didn’t need to, you did it for him. With each new piece, you were learning to not care if you were in a store with him, posing for him as he assessed each piece. Some you thought looked decent on you, he put in the no pile, while others you thought were a sure no, he put in the yes. He told you ultimately, it was your decision and if you felt uncomfortable, you could put one in the no pile, but he knew your body better than anyone. If he insisted it looked good, it must’ve looked good.

At the last piece you put on, he can’t seem to decide, asking an attendant for her opinion. She says she thinks the shirt looks amazing on you but isn’t sure about the style of pants. “Yeah, I chose them just to see if you’d wear it.” You shook your head no, feeling uncomfortable in the business type pants. “Cool. Get dressed in your clothes, we have more stores to hit up.” You toss the shirt to him after yanking it off, and by the time you make your way to the register, the attendant is already handing over two oversized bags to him.

“Eddie, this is enough clothes, I really don’t need anymore!” You insist as he directs you to a store only three spaces over.

As soon as you walk in, they see the big bags Eddie’s carrying and immediately offer their assistance. Eddie rolls his eyes, knowing he only ever gets the star treatment if he’s walking around with the occasional designer bag. (He likes their underwear). “Well, I don’t know if you noticed, but the women’s side of our closet is huge, and you didn’t have nearly enough clothes to fill it anyway.”

Our closet. You’re so fixated on the use of the word our that you don’t realize he’s waiting for you to talk. “Doesn’t mean I need more.”

“Oh, that’s exactly what it means!” He turns to the employee who’s been following him around and hands her the bags. “Be a dear and hold on to these, will ya?” He turns back to you, resting one hand on the rack beside him and staring down at you intensely. “Baby. I want to spoil you. Let me. Please! Pick out some clothes you want, I’ll pick some out, too, and you can try them on.”

“You’ve spoiled me so much already!” You insist, gulping at the sincerity in his eyes. “You’re all I could ever ask for.”

“That’s exactly why I have to spoil you.” He retorts, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “I love you. Let me show you how much. I have a stupid amount in savings. I kind of want to chuck some out just to keep me humble.”

You giggle at this, finally, fully giving in to his madness.

Madness, it is. As you go from store to store, he gets about two more bags full from each one, and you’re sure some of these outfits will never see the light of day after you see how he looks at you in them. About ten percent will just be something you put on for about two seconds before he takes it off you. He’s buying dresses he knows he’ll be the only person to ever take them off or see you in them.

At one point, he runs back to his truck to put the eight bags he got tired of carrying around away, coming back to meet you in the store he left you in. It wasn’t much of a clothing store, but you had a basket of things you were planning to buy for yourself. Earrings, a knick knack for your desk, a cute notebook and the like. (There was a shirt you found for Eddie that you got just for the hell of it.) You're waiting in line, and you’re digging through your purse for your wallet when Eddie comes behind you, wallet out, card in the machine. “I—”

“Baby. Your money is useless today. Let me.”

You roll your eyes, and the cashier’s wide eyes at his pet-name for you catches your eye, a laugh escaping you. “Yeah, sorry. Guess I forgot to mention my boyfriend is also in his 40s.” You giggle, having just gushed about how Eddie was spoiling you to him.

“What? 40s? I’m clearly in my 20s.” Eddie asks, acting offended.

The poor cashier looks genuinely frightened, holding up his hands in surrender. “He’s joking. He is. Likes to make people squirm.”

“Oh I love to make you squirm—”

“Eddie!” You berate him, yanking him out of the store as he lets out a bout of laughter. He catches his breath, still laughing as you cross your arms, waiting impatiently for him to stop.

“Sorry, sweetheart, you made it too easy! C’mon, two more stores, then we can grab food.”

“Can I pay for food?” You ask, holding his hand.

Eddie smiles, petting your hand with his thumb. “Of course.”

The second to last store he brings you to is an underwear store. Eddie lets you do all the picking, following closely behind and offering any commentary when you ask for it. For once, he doesn’t insist that you model for him, claiming that just seeing you go through the lacier drawers of panties was torture enough. You walk out with a wardrobe’s worth of new underwear, bras, and a little bit of lingerie. It was the first time you were there to see the total, your eyes widening as Eddie takes out his card.

He smirks at your stunned expression. “Oh, this isn’t even the highest bill, sweetheart.” The transaction goes through and the kind lady behind the desks offers the bags to him. “This isn’t even half of it.”

The bill was at about 700 dollars, so the very idea drove you insane that he had already collected every receipt and refused to let you see them.

He brings you to one last store, wall to wall, covered in clothes. He goes a little ham this time, and you notice he focuses on basics. Sweatpants, sweaters, shorts, and under shirts. There’s one thing he chooses that has you struggling to get the zipper up, and eventually you call out for him for help after a good five minutes of fumbling .

He opens the curtain delicately so as to not reveal anything, and you look at him helplessly as your hand can’t reach the zipper sitting low on your ass. His fingers are light to the touch, as one hand rests on your shoulder, one on the zipper as it goes up to your neck, your hair held by your hands. You can’t help the shiver that runs through you as your hair curtains down around your neck, and you turn to face him, holding your hands out to silently ask him what he thought.

What does he think? He thinks that this fucking dress looks so good on you that it would be a crime to get you to start trying on those shorts and sweaters. Hell, you knew your size, you were probably good to go. It was much less revealing than any dress you tried on, a number he’ll probably get you to wear on your next date. He couldn’t help himself, surrounded by the privacy of the small room, he leans in to kiss you sweetly, one hand going up to frame your neck. “Baby.” He mutters, his voice sounding desperate. “You look…fucking gorgeous.”

You smile into it, your hand tracing the seam of his shirt along his torso. “Thanks. Help me out of it? I still need to try on all these clothes.”

His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, surprising you. A slight whimper escapes you as he backs you into the wall against a few clothing articles hanging there. “I will absolutely help you out of this dress.” He says, his voice husky and a touch of arousal lands in your underwear as you realize why. “But then I’m going to get my cock in you.”

“In-in here?” You ask, highly aware you’re in a public space.

“Mmhmm. Be quiet and no one will suspect a thing.” he says, hand slipping under the skirt of the dress to start palming at your folds over your panties. You whimper at the touch into his mouth, focusing all your energy on not alerting the kind sales lady that you were hooking up in her dressing room. “Oh, good girl, keeping herself quiet.”

“It’s…it’s hard.” You whimper, the light touches over your panties not enough, but still causing more arousal.

“So am I.” Eddie chuckles, watching your face as he teases you. He slips the hand into your panties, letting them drop on the floor. “Oh, so wet, huh?” He asks you, eyebrows furrowed as he plays with the slick on your folds.

“Mmhmm.”

“Does daddy buying all the pretty clothes make you all hot, baby?” He asks, voice in your ear and fingers rubbing at your clit gentle, but enough to start you to your destination. You nod your head, because on some level, this was a big turn on for you. “Oh, you horny little slut.”

“Good girl…” You whimper, and Eddie leans back from your shoulder. “Good girl. Please?” You ask him, the slut shaming wasn’t doing it for you.

“Oh, you wanna be called a good girl, huh? Daddy’s good girl?” You nod, your eyes closing as he starts to rub at your clit faster.

“Feels…feels good, Daddy…”

“Daddy’s gonna make you cum, and since you’re a good girl you’re not gonna make a fucking sound. Okay?” You nod, holding a whimper in your throat from the finger he slides into your heat. “Oh she’s close.” He mutters to himself, placing gentle kisses on your neck. “Fall apart on my fingers so I can fuck you, my good girl.”

Your mouth is open in a silent scream, an orgasm shaking through you as you wither against the dressing room wall.  

“Oh, that’s my good girl, such a good listener. Now, turn around and hold on to those hooks.” You do as he says, and as you brace yourself with your hands awkwardly against the hooks decorated with hangers, he zips the dress off you, lifting it over your head and nearly forgetting to muffle his own moan when he sees you aren’t wearing a bra. He lets his pants fall around his calves, and as his cock pushes you, you let your jaw open and eyes close, doing everything you could not to moan out loud.

He slowly bucks into you, and you close your eyes and lean against the wall headfirst while the scent of store clothes invades your senses. Soon, Eddie leans forward, forcing your torso up against his back as he places his ringed hand around you like a necklace. He kisses at the skin he can reach sweetly, eyes open as he watches your reaction to everything he does to you.

While the prospect of being caught by someone was hot, Eddie found himself watching for your visual reactions than listening for your audible ones. Hmm. He didn’t realize he had begun to rely on them. “How’s Daddy’s cock?”

“G-good.” You whisper, leaning into his chest with your head back against his shoulder.

“Gonna cum in you.” He mutters. He starts fucking into you a little harder, and it has to be perfectly timed because if he went all the way in, the sound of his balls against your pussy would be a dead giveaway.

“How’s everything in there?”

“Speak.” Eddie commands you, and you have to tear yourself from outer space for a moment.

“Great, thank you!”

“Just a reminder we try not to encourage two people in one dressing room.”

“She was just needing help with a zipper. Almost done.” Eddie pipes out, sounding relatively normal for someone seconds away from cumming.

“If you need any help or sizes, let us know.”

 “Thanks…” Shit, that sounded out of breath.

“Cum in me.” You whisper, and Eddie does just that, slowly fucking his way through his orgasm, his cheeks flushed, shirt clinging onto the sweat.

You nearly protest as he takes himself out and tucks himself back into his pants. At this point, you were so turned on you kind of wanted to blow him while you had him in the room. You hold his face in your hands and connect your foreheads. “Is it bad I still want more?” You mutter under your breath.

Eddie swears softly, his boner fighting harshly against his slacks. “Fuck. No, I do, too.” He tugs your naked self into his arms, kissing your hair softly. “But…she was suspicious. Unless we want to get kicked out, we should quit while we’re ahead.”

“Can I blow you when we get home?” You ask him, turning to grab your own clothes off the floor.

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head as he grabs the clothes scattered around the dressing room. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

It took multiple trips from Eddie’s truck to bring in all the bags. You truly didn’t realize how many pieces of clothing he had bought you until you saw it all scattered on the closet floor, all ready to be reorganized. Eddie starts hanging them, and you notice the outline of his cock in his slacks. He was still throbbing.

“Can I?” You ask, sitting pretty on your knees and looking up at him.

“Fuck, I’m never gonna say no to that.” Eddie answers, placing a hand under your chin.

You undo his pants, giving him a hungry look as his cock springs free. “You’re still hard?” You ask, knowing you’ve gotten food at the food court and walked around the mall a bit more before coming home.

“Mmhm.” You smile, jerking him lazily as you eye the length hungrily. You have the idea to tease him more, but the need to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue is too much. Eddie swears loudly as you take him in your mouth, gripping onto the center console for accessories and underwear. “Fuck”

You slowly bob your head up and down, staring up at him through your eyelashes as you relax your throat and allow your nose to meet his stomach. His hands skim through your hair, moving your head lightly, and again, you find it ridiculously easy to submit to him.

Eddie is uncharacteristically quiet, head thrown back in bliss as he feels the spit gather at his base. His stomach starts to tighten up a little bit and under your hands, his thighs are tense. Somehow it spells out to you he’s close.

You prepare yourself, moving your head faster on your own accord, opening your eyes at him again to watch for his reaction as you double down. A goddamn whimper escapes his throat as you continue, and suddenly it’s your goddamn mission to make him make that sound again. “Fuck, baby. Fuck…” Without any warning, the warm salty taste of his cum hits your tongue and you moan around him as he rides through his orgasm.

For once, as you wipe your mouth, you can tell he’s the one that needs recovery. You move to your feet, waiting for him to catch his breath. “Need some water?” You ask him, somewhat joking.

“The fuck was that?” He asks, his face in awe as he looks at you.

You give a cheeky and quick little kiss to the hand on your cheek. “Wanted to make you feel good.”

“Jesus Christ—” he tugs you into a hug, habitually kissing your hair. “How did I get so lucky?”

“Uh Ed.” You push lightly on his chest to get out of the hug, giving him a look of disbelief. You look gesture around the closet to the half of the clothes still not put away. “How are you the lucky one?”

Eddie’s face breaks into a wide smile, his dimples prominent, his smile lines deep. “You keep thinking that, darling.” He laughs, tugging you back into his arms.

As you stand there against his chest, relaxing into him with your eyes closed, the doorbell rings. “I’ll get it. You put away my clothes since you know where everything goes.”

“I did design this closet.” He retorts, pointing a finger at you.

You walk down the stairs to the front door, seeing a tall figure facing away through the smart glass. You open the door to a gorgeous set of brown locks, perfectly coiffed. The figure turns around, and clearly doesn’t expect to see you standing there. “Hey, Ed- whoa.” You recognize his face, but you aren’t sure where from. You subtly fix your hair; suddenly aware you had just given head to your boyfriend. “Uh, sorry, little lady. Is Eddie here?”

“He’s upstairs in the closet. Can I help you?”

The stranger smiles kindly, and you notice the freckles on his face are like constellations. “Oh sorry! I told him I’d be coming through town, but I forgot to say when. I’m Steve, Steve Harrington.”

-

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.

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[inbloomwriting]

Everything to me - Chapter 2

Chapter two - Blueberry & Kidney Bean

Chapter 1

Plot: Jamie Tartt is a lot of things: professional footballer, the island's top scorer .... sexually, extremly handsome. But one thing he never saw himself as was a dad. Too bad he has to deal with the consequences of his own actions. This fic follows reader and Jamie as they navigate life and turn from practially strangers to parents. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Pregnancy, swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, slight mention of sexual intimacy (nothing graphic), strained/toxic parental relationship Notes: 5.6k words. I do not have a set uploading schedule. Please bear with me as I work on this story. I know hardly anything about pregnancy, all my information comes from google. I tagged everyone who asked me to do it when I posted part 1. Please let me know if you want to be taken off or added to the taglist. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

The store smells like dust and cardboard and old carpet. It's not necessarily a bad smell, it just doesn't live up to her memories.

She remembers the perpetual scent of menthol cigarettes and some kind of cheap men's perfume wafting through the air. The store used to smell like her dad and now it doesn't. And that just makes it all even more real.

Boxes upon boxes litter the room, filled with records. Some older, some newer. Guitars adorn one wall while the others are covered in posters from tours that happened long ago, some even before she was born.

There is something comforting about being here. It’s like stepping back into the past. Long nights watching Dad and his friends play their guitars after store-closing. Discovering new bands whenever a new shipment of records came in. And yes - she is the first to admit that in her younger years, she mostly chose the records by how cool the cover looked. 

It’s also memories of Dad getting caught up in the after-hours jam sessions and forgetting about her dance recital and that one time he threw a guitar at the window out of anger that a shipment of records got lost. It took him months to get the window replaced. She could probably still trace exactly where the crack used to be. 

Being here is very reminiscent in all the good and bad ways. But it’s a warped version of the past. One that’s laced with all the knowledge she has now. Like a movie that you’ve seen a million times.

“I don’t think pregnant women are supposed to be doing that!” 

Jamie’s voice cuts through the nostalgia-induced fog like a sunbeam through the clouds. And it also gives her a little heart attack as the only sound filling the room up until now had been her moving around and the soft tunes of an Eric Clapton record playing in the background.

“Jesus fuck! You scared me. I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to startle pregnant women either and give them heart attacks.” 

He looks at her with those big expressive eyes of his and a comically overdone pout on his lips. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. But seriously give me that.” 

He’s so quick to take the box of records from her hands (Y/N) hardly has time to process what’s going on. 

Quite honestly, his worry is a bit misplaced here but she appreciates the sentiment even if he might be a little overly cautious at that moment. It feels nice to be cared for. 

“You know I’m pregnant, not sick, right? I can carry stuff.” 

“Yeah but why would you if you got me carrying it for you?” 

He has a point, she has to give him that. 

“Fair enough. Those go over there in the corner please.” 

Jamie follows her order without hesitation and, after setting the box down in its designated place, his eyes dart across the room and light up with childlike wonder and curiosity.

“This used to be your dad’s place, yeah? It looks really neat with all them posters and shit. Like stepping into an old person’s mind but like a cool old person that buys you alcohol when you’re 15 and lets you watch horror movies when your mum said no.” 

Of all the adjectives in the world, (Y/N) wouldn’t ever think of using the word “cool” to describe her dad. He was creative and fun and eccentric and stubborn — but cool? 

Then again he was her dad and no one ever likes to think of their own parents as cool. Oh god, will their kid think she’s uncool?! 

“Uh yeah, the shop and the apartment right above us. He owned it, now I do. I’m trying to get it all fixed up and ready to be sold.”

“What? Why?” 

There is something to be said about Jamie’s face and his absolute inability to mask his emotions. Everything he thinks and feels is mirrored twice as vividly on his face. He’s all furrowed brows and pouty lips. 

“I mean — it’s a record store. People don’t really buy records anymore. Be honest, when was the last time you bought one instead of just streaming the music?” 

“Like two weeks ago.” 

“Fuck off, no you didn’t!” 

“Uh — yeah, I did. Olivia Rodrigo if you must know.” 

A soft giggle falls from (Y/N)’s lips. How fitting for Jamie to buy an album full of teenage angst. 

“Well, you’re one of very few people though. In a perfect world, I wouldn’t have to sell. I’d keep it open. Instead of selling instruments, it’d turn that part of the shop into a little stage with a coffee counter or a bar. Host open mic nights and shine a spotlight on undiscovered artists. But the world isn’t perfect and there is no way I can afford to turn that vision into reality so really there’s no use in letting myself get too caught up in it.” 

There is pity in his eyes and she hates it. She doesn’t want pity, not his or anyone else’s. Has seen enough of it, especially lately. If she had received just one more “Sorry for your loss” card in the mail from relatives she hadn’t seen in decades, she probably would’ve stabbed a fork in her own eye. Pity does no good to no one. 

“Anyway, Jamie. Not that I don’t enjoy hanging out with you, it’s kind of necessary if we want to get this whole beings-friends-thing right, but uh — what are you doing here?” 

“Jesus, can’t a guy just come around to say hi to his baby? “ 

She thinks the way he says the word “Baby” in his thick accent is surprisingly and undeniably adorable. As if it ends in an “eh” instead of a “y”.

“By the way, they’re as big as a blueberry now.” 

And the way he’s keeping track of the baby's growth gets her right in the heart. For some reason, this seems to come so naturally to him when it all still feels weird and foreign and surreal to her. As if it were happening to someone else and she’s just a mere spectator. The idea that something as small as a blueberry will one day turn into a proper baby, a child, a teenager … a whole ass adult - is so wild to her. Almost incomprehensible. A person with their own feelings and dreams and personality. (Y/N) wonders if at any point in this pregnancy, she'll wake up and it'll all just make sense or if that only comes once she's holding the baby in her arms.

“That's cute. Doesn't answer my question though. What brings you here?”

A shadow of something flickers across Jamie’s face. Something unreadable and unfamiliar. Something that makes (Y/N) feel a sense of dread bubbling up in her stomach.

“I uh — I can’t do this.”

And there it is. That unfamiliar shadow is now a metaphorical atom bomb, a mushroom cloud of all that could have been and won’t be.

“Oh okay. I mean no, not okay. This sucks actually. You said you wanted to be part of the baby’s life and now you’re bailing? That’s a shit move, Jamie. You’re a right prick for pulling that crap.” 

“What? Oh no!” his eyes widen as the realization sets in. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Well then what did you mean? Cause you’re truly giving me a heart attack right now. Second one for today. You really need to start working on your conversation starters.” 

She had given him the chance to opt out of being a dad, to not be a part of the baby’s life. It seemed like the right thing to do and, foolishly, (Y/N) had believed that she’d be okay with him doing just that. In this very moment though, she feels everything but okay. The idea of Jamie changing his mind is terrifying. 

Sometimes you don’t realize just how much you need something — or someone until you’re faced with the possibility of losing them.

“I mean, I can’t do this alone. I need to tell someone. All I keep thinking about is the baby and I feel like I am going to explode any second now. I know we can’t tell everyone yet ‘cause of — well you know, things going wrong and stuff. But I need to tell someone. You got to tell Rebecca and your mum, I think it’s only fair I get to tell two people as well, yeah?”

A sense of relief floods her. Starts in her toes and fills her all the way to the top of her head. He wants this — wants the baby. It’s not just her in this. It’s nice to know you have someone in your corner. It’s also scary. Because he deserves to know just whose team he’s on. And being vulnerable fucking sucks. 

“Jamie, that’s fine. Absolutely you can tell your mum.” 

“And Simon? You got two people so — “

“I didn’t though.” 

“Uh yes, you did. I know you told Rebecca.” 

“That’s right.”

“And your mum too”.

The silence that follows his words is deafening. Being vulnerable means also admitting guilt. It means owning up to all of your mistakes. Though we are not the sum of our mistakes, they are what help shape the person we become. And (Y/N) really doesn’t think they make her a very good one.

“And your mum too?” 

More silence.

“You didn’t tell your mum? Why not? “

To his credit, Jamie looks truly surprised and confused. There is no judgment there, just absolute bewilderment and that signature softness that rounds out his features and settles in his eyes whenever Jamie talks to her about something serious. Granted they’ve not had that many conversations but she hopes that softness stays. She hopes that maybe their baby can have those soft, gentle eyes too.

“I’m not sure. I think I’m scared. My mum and I have a — complicated relationship. I disappoint her, she judges me. You know, the usual.” 

“You think she’ll be disappointed because we're having a baby? Is it because of me?”

(Y/N) shrugs, breaking eye contact and fixing her gaze on the old grey carpet with the ugly 90s pattern. What if those soft eyes can look straight through her, see all the ugly parts and the insecurities? That’s too scary for now. Too much too soon.

“No, it has nothing to do with you. Think she’ll just be disappointed I didn’t get pregnant according to the timeline she dreamed up for my life when I was like 2 years old. Had it all planned out for me and I never stuck to it.” 

Jamie is quiet for a moment but (Y/N) doesn’t dare to look back up at him. She can’t deal with any more pity.

“Well if you want to practice telling a mum, we can start with mine.”

“Huh?” 

“You can come to Manchester with me if you want. To tell my mum. We’ll have one mum down then, makes it easier to do it a second time. It’s science.” 

Jamie has the fascinating quality of making you believe in his words just by being so undeniably charming and because he believes in them himself. He makes it look easy when it is everything but.

“And if things don’t go well with your mum at least you’ll know you have at least one mum you can rely on, even if it’s not your own. She raised me pretty much by herself so she knows a thing or two about babies and parenting and stuff.” 

The mocking raise of (Y/N)’s right eyebrow doesn’t go unnoticed by Jamie who opens his lips to a silent gasp and clutches his chest with an overly dramatic gesture. 

“What? You saying I didn’t turn out perfectly?”

“No,” she laughs, a lightness festering in her chest. Like the first rays of sunshine after a cold winter that never seemed to end. Like a glass of wine after a long day at work. Like your favorite song on the radio at the exact moment you need it most. “I think you turned out exactly the way you were supposed to.” 

“Thanks,” Jamie says with that cheeky smile playing on his lips that makes him look a little younger than he actually is. Then he dares to wink at her and it’s a little annoying but also insanely charming. “Not sure you meant it as a compliment but I am taking it. Now when are you free for a trip up to Manchester?” 

(Y/N)’s been on a lot of road trips around the country when she was younger. She’s even spent a whole summer traveling Europe, partially by train but most of the time was spent stuffed in a Fiat Punto with 3 of her friends and all their luggage. It was stuffy, it was chaotic and it was immensely fun. None of those road trips ever involved a shiny black Aston Martin Rapide though. 

Or a famous footballer dressed in the ugliest lime green sweater (Y/N) has ever seen. 

“That’s all the luggage you got?” Jamie questions as he moves the black shades off of his eyes and sets them on the top of his head, holding back some of his hair. It shouldn’t work so well but it does. 

“I mean, we’re only staying for a night right? Why? Should I have brought more? How much did you pack?” 

He glances at her, then towards the car, and back at her. A sheepish look crosses his face before being replaced by his childlike cheekiness. “That’s confidential. Don’t worry about it, yeah?” 

“I got my ginger lollies, that’s all that matters really.” 

“You feeling alright?” 

“Mh, I’m good. Just pregnant.” 

His eyes drop down to her stomach for just a second before he nods his head in what (Y/N) can only describe as a mix of pride and satisfaction. “Yeah, you are.” 

That’s new. Well not new-new but it hasn’t happened since the day of the funeral. That tingly feeling in her stomach that has fuck all to do with the baby and everything with how the baby got there. Yes, Jamie is hot and (Y/N) is the first to admit as much but there has been so much stress and chaos and she hardly had time to think about anything but surviving and making sure not to completely lose herself in bad visions of what-ifs that her brain has had no time to process any feelings of arousal or lust. That look he just gave her though, that one made her remember it for just a second.

“You sure you’re alright?” 

Jamie’s voice shakes her from her daydream and brings her back to the real world, her eyes focusing back on the obscene car parked in front of her tiny apartment building looking so insanely out of place.

“Uh yes, I’m fine. I just — sometimes I forget that you’re famous.” 

Jamie regards her for a moment before shrugging his shoulder and grabbing the bag from her hands. “I don’t. It’s fun. Now come on, let’s goooooo.” 

His voice is dipped in excitement and there’s a bounce in his step. If this is how the prospect of seeing his mother makes him feel and behave, she must be one lovely woman. Whenever (Y/N) thinks of her own mother her chest fills with tiny metaphorical icicles. Sharp and rough and painful. It’s all regret and judgment and disapproval. It’s “You gained weight”, “you look tired”, and “You should really look into getting a new job”. Daggers disguised as roses. Stabs right to the heart in the name of being honest. “I just care about you, because I love you, because I am your mother!” 

If there is one thing (Y/N) knows for sure, it’s that she will never ever find the need to resort to criticism and thinly veiled malice in order to show her child that she cares. They will know. Every single day. Because she’ll make sure to show them. Every single day in all the big and tiny ways a person can show their love. 

“Kidney Bean?”

“Kidney Bean. And apparently, the baby is sprouting webbed fingers and toes right now. Oh, and it’s starting to move!” 

“Can you feel that?” 

“No, not yet.” 

“It’s mental. Last week she was the size of a blueberry and now she’s a kidney bean. Kid’s growing up too fast.” 

It’s true. There is so much happening all at once and it’s almost impossible to really process it all. Suddenly there is a tiny spark of a human inside her. Not really a baby yet but a baby to her. And it's moving and developing and changing every second of every day. Fucking insane.

“Wait … you said she. You think it’s a girl?”

Maybe it’s the sunlight casting a glow through the windshield but (Y/N) is almost certain she can just about make out a blush dusting Jamie’s cheeks. 

“Dunno.”

“Jamie Tartt, do you want to be a girl dad?” 

He glances at (Y/N) through the corner of his eyes for just a moment but it’s enough for her to see the sincerity in him. This is something he’s thought about before. Learning new things about Jamie is fascinating.

“Ah,  it’s stupid, really. It’s — It’s dumb or whatever.” 

“No, come on, don't go shy on me now. Tell me.” 

He takes a deep breath. A moment passes then another. There is no rush. Sometimes silly thoughts are the result of harsh truths. 

“Told you my dad was a prick. Like the biggest piece of shit walking this earth, yeah? And I knew that all my life. Thing is I still tried to impress him. I just — I wanted him to like me so badly. Just felt wrong that me own dad didn’t care about me and that made me angry. And I kept that anger inside me for so long. Sometimes when I think about the baby and the future I am scared that if I have a son that anger will jump over to him. Like maybe all Tartt men are cursed or some shit like that. But if I had a little girl maybe that would make it easier for me to be a good dad. I don’t mind either way, obviously, but the idea of having a son scares me.” 

It’s the most vulnerable he’s been with her so far and by the way he clenches his jaw and grabs onto the steering wheel just a little tighter, (Y/N) can tell this isn’t easy on him. It means a lot that he shares this part of him with her anyway. It feels like they are actually becoming friends. So opening up to him in return is only half as horrifying. 

“When I was a kid, maybe 11 or 12, I wrote a short story for school and I won an award. They did this big ceremony thing where the 3 finalists got to read their stories out loud for an audience and then receive their prizes. My mum didn’t show up, not sure if it was because she stayed longer at the office and didn’t care enough to leave on time or if she just didn’t feel like getting out of the house. Point is, she wasn’t there. When I came home that night I was sad, obviously, and I was also pissed. Because why the fuck couldn’t she take one night off to come see me succeed at something even if it wasn’t something she deemed worthy of praise. 

So I yelled at her and I’m sure I said some hurtful things. But I was so devastated and angry and I needed an outlet for once. She called me ungrateful but I was used to that, she always called me ungrateful. Then she looked at me with that look of absolute resignation and malice and she said that she hopes I have a daughter like me one day and that she makes me realize how hard it is to love me. 

When I think of the baby, sometimes I see a little girl too. One that I will love so much she never has to doubt it for a single second. And I will also prove my mother wrong. Because it will be so easy to love my little girl and it would’ve been so easy to love me, her little girl.” 

It’s the first time she’s ever said those words out loud. Truly, (Y/N) had not expected for them to come out in an Aston Martin, on the way to meet her baby’s father’s mother but life doesn’t seem to care for plans very much these days.

Softly, as if to not startle her, Jamie places his hand on hers, squeezing gently.

“I think your mum is a right bitch.” 

“Thanks. I think your dad is a huge asshole.” 

“We’re gonna be better than them, right?” 

It’s not really a question. It’s more of a promise.

“We will. I know it.”

His hand doesn’t leave hers for a good long while. 

The nerves don’t hit her until they pull up to the quaint little house with the white front. There’s a rose bush to the side and some kids playing football just across the way. The nerves don’t hit her until Jamie puts the car in park but when they do, they hit her like a freight train.

“Woah, you alright?” 

“Huh?” 

“You look all pale and like you’ve seen a ghost or something. Do you have to puke?”

A chuckle falls from her lips at the absurdity of it all. In all honesty, she’s not met a lot of parents yet but the few she did meet were parents of actual partners. People she had been dating for a while. It was a natural progression of steps. This is all wrong and sideways and topsy-turvy. You’re supposed to meet the mum first and then get pregnant. 

Again with the life and the plans. 

“I’m fucking nervous.” 

“Hah,” Jamie laughs. The audacity of this guy. “You’re nervous to meet my mum? Why? She’s an angel.”

“Do you not know how intimidating that is? Like, if she was shit I wouldn’t care but she sounds wonderful and I want her to like me. No, I need her to like me. Desperately. And I can only imagine what she thinks of me already. Some floozy who gets knocked up and really just wants your money.” 

Before she even fully realizes what’s happening, (Y/N) feels Jamie’s hands on her cheeks, framing her face in warmth.

“Calm down, please. I promise it’ll be alright. My mum will love you, I know it. Probably more than she loves me. Actually no that’s a lie, but she will love you and she will love our baby. Promise.”

“She’s not gonna judge me for — you know. Getting pregnant even though we’re not dating or anything.” 

“My mum was married to my dad, worst person on planet Earth. Don’t think she’s in any position to judge you. It’ll be alright, trust me.” 

She hardly knows this man and yet she can’t help but do just that. Trust him.

The first thing (Y/N) notices about Georgie is her smile. A smile that is so familiar because it looks exactly like Jamie’s smile. Warm and radiant and true. A part of (Y/N) hopes that their baby inherits that same smile. Partially because it’s a really good smile and partially because maybe that could help Jamie realize that he is more than the sum of his father’s problems and mistakes. He is all his mother’s boy.

“Oh, I missed you, my baby.” 

Georgie wraps her arms around Jamie’s middle, getting swallowed by his frame for a moment. There’s no denying that part of (Y/N)’s heart breaks a little seeing how loving of a relationship these two have and wondering where she and her own mother went wrong.

And as it so happens with so many kids that have never been loved quite the way they deserved, (Y/N) can’t help but search for the problem in herself. 

“Yeah sorry for not visiting earlier. You know how it is with training and stuff.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I know my boy is busy being a star.” 

The words hold a slight mocking, never mean but in the way that only people who are close can tease each other. You know every word comes laced with deep affection, with pride, with love.

“And it’s so nice to meet you too. I’m Georgie.” 

It takes a second for (Y/N) to realize that Jamie’s mum is now talking to her directly.

“I uh — oh thank you. Nice to meet you too, I’m (Y/N).” 

Georgie smells like mint chewing gum and floral perfume as she pulls (Y/N) into a hug. She’s soft and gentle and it’s been the first hug from a mother (Y/N) has received in quite some time.

“Sorry, didn’t even ask if you’re a hugger.”

“Oh that’s alright, don’t worry about it.” 

She’s not a hugger, never really was, but there is something about Georgie granting her some affection that isn’t all that bad. Maybe their kid can have at least one grandmother who cares and who isn’t completely disgusted by the idea of showing any kind of positive emotions.

“Jamie never brings girlfriends around so I’m a bit out of my element here if I’m being honest.” 

“Mum we’re not — she’s not.” Jamie takes a big breath before starting again “(Y/N) and I are friends, yeah? Told you about it on the phone.” 

“Right, right. Well, you don’t bring around a lot of friends either so same difference, really. Now come inside will you, I’m sure we got a lot to catch up on.”

Oh if only she knew how true that sentiment really is.

There are pictures of Jamie staring back at (Y/N) from every corner of the house and Georgie leads them through the hallway and towards the kitchen. Every wall and every shelf holds a memory of him at one point in his life. Gap toothed with a football in hand smiling, surrounded by a field of tulips arm wrapped around his mother’s shoulder, his teenage self smoldering at the camera with an even more questionable haircut than the one he is sporting right now. Oh to be loved in a way that every past version of you is being remembered.

As they reach the kitchen a sweet scent fills the room when a man clad in an apron turns around and faces them with a huge smile playing on his face. He has a dorky kind of charm to him that immediately puts you at ease. Maybe it’s just the frilly apron, maybe it’s the big oven gloves, maybe it’s the smile. Either way, (Y/N) thinks that if they take the news well, her kid might have truly lucked out on one side of the grandparents department. 

“Jamie, welcome home.” 

“Hi Simon, thanks, mate. Glad to be back. This is (Y/N).” 

“The friend, right.” Simon says and shoots Georgie a look that neither of them misses. Subtlety doesn’t seem to be one of his best qualities. “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you too. It smells amazing in here.” 

“I found this new recipe for honey blondies. Not sure if they'll be any good but I guess we'll find out. If you guys want to go have a seat, I'll come bring them over.”

“Actually,” Jamie speaks up while nervously fiddling with his hands. “I was hoping we could have a talk before we do anything else. There’s something I need to tell you both.” 

Imagining the hypothetical scenario of telling your mum you’re having a baby and actually doing it really are two completely different things it seems. Gone is all of Jamie’s confidence and replaced with a whole lot of anxiety. 

“You're worrying me, Jamie. What has you acting so serious? Did you get someone pregnant or something?”

Georgie's words are followed by a thick awkward silence. It's heavy and suffocating and it makes (Y/N) feel uneasy in both her heart and her head.

It doesn't take long for Jamie’s parents to realize what his silence means. Everything communicated by not saying a single word.

“Oh, fuck.”

And there's nothing to add to Georgie's reaction. It's the exact same one (Y/N) had when she first saw those faint blue lines.

Of all the possible outcomes and ways this day could’ve gone, (Y/N) had not expected to find herself staring at not only a curly-haired Roy Kent but also come face to face with two very persuasive arguments belonging to no other than Keeley fucking Jones. 

“This is surreal.” 

The posters stare back at her all crinkled paper and bleached ink, as if to mock her silently. 

“Ah, well I told them to redecorate when I moved out, think they just haven’t gotten around to it yet.” 

A light dusting of pink settles on the apples of Jamie’s cheeks as well as the tips of his ears. This man can’t hide his emotions for the life of him. It’s quite adorable really. 

“Do they know?” 

“Does who know?” 

“Roy and Keeley. Do they know you have their pictures up in your room?”

“Well no and It’s not my room anymore, is it? ‘S not like I have ‘em hanging at home. Put these up ages ago.” 

A giggle slips through (Y/N)’s lips at his desperate attempt to talk himself out of this situation. 

“It’s okay, Jamie. I won’t tell.” 

“There’s nothing to tell, alright?” he responds in mock offense before sitting down on his childhood bed next to (Y/N). “Just liked boobs and football and those two were the best those fields had to offer, yeah? Can’t really blame me.” 

“Not much has changed has it?”

He shrugs his shoulders in response “Nah. Still like boobs and football but no way I’d put up a poster of granddad’s ugly mug nowadays.”

From the few times they talked about his job, including his teammates and coaches, (Y/N) was able to gather that Jamie’s relationship with Roy is something special. Odd, but special. Maybe that’s what happens when you end up working with your childhood idol. Either way, no matter how much shit he likes to talk about him, it’s clear that Jamie respects and admires Roy a great deal still.

“And uh — and Keeley?” 

“What about her?” 

“Is she — are you — how are things?” 

She still remembers that crestfallen look on his face on the day of the funeral. That infinite sadness in his eyes. She hadn’t put two and two together at that moment but later that night it all clicked. Keeley was the woman he was in love with, the woman who did not love him back. And while (Y/N) knows that she and Jamie are only bound together by happenstance and fate — if one chooses to believe in that, and that there is nothing romantic about their situation, it does sting a little to know that the man you’re having a baby with is in love with someone else.

“We’re good. We’re friends, think that’s all we’ll ever be. Her and Roy, they’re happy and I don’t want to ruin it for either of them. Keeley and I just were not right together.” 

“And you’re okay with that?” 

He nods his head, a small smile playing on his lips “Yeah, I’m alright with it. If I hadn’t made a fool of myself at the funeral then you and I wouldn’t have — you know, and then we wouldn’t be having a baby. Little Kidney Bean.” 

“That’s true. Your mum seemed excited.” 

“Hah, sorry about her. She can be intense.” 

Intense might be the understatement of the century. It took her approximately 2.3 seconds to get over the initial shock of the announcement and really process it before Georgie let out a scream of pure excitement and joy and wrapped both Jamie and (Y/N) up in her arms. She didn’t fully let go for a good 20 minutes. It was intense. It was also phenomenal.

“Don’t apologize. I am so glad she took it so well, Simon too. At least now I’ll have the certainty that my baby will have one set of loving grandparents at least.” 

“Hey,” Jamie says and nudges her shoulder with his “We’ll sort out telling your mum next, okay. I’m sure it’ll go better than you think. And if not we can always call up my mum for some more hugs and a pep talk. Whatever happens, you won’t have to do it alone. I promise.” 

For what is probably the first time in her life (Y/N) lets herself believe that there truly is someone else having her back, undisputedly and all the way. It’s unfamiliar. It’s a little scary. It’s also wonderful.

“Thanks, Jamie. I appreciate it, I really do. Think so far we’re doing alright, huh?” 

“I’d say so. Two sexy parents and a little Kidney Bean.” 

Their laughter echoes through Jamie’s childhood bedroom for quite a while longer until at some point it stills and gives room to soft breathing and quiet snores. The bed isn’t meant for two grown adults and really Jamie truly meant to sleep on the couch but somewhere between talks of baby clothes and childhood memories, eyes grew heavy and tired, and soon enough both of them are fast asleep.

Just them and their little Kidney Bean 

— and a curly-haired Roy Kent 

— and Keeley’s boobs.

taglist (@ me if you want to be taken off or added): @captainfrisbee - @scaramou - @mischiefmanaged71 - @rexorangecouny - @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog - @tweasley20 - @dreamtrydoforkinggood - @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo - @heletsmelovehim - @snubug - @katdahlali - @oldglitterstory - @lalla-04p - @aiyaiy

[simpforfandom231]

I don't forget too well PT1

Slightly obsessed with Reneé Rapp.

warnings: this will be a multi part. ADHD, Fluff.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

The soft glow of the television illuminated the cozy living room, casting a warm ambiance over Renée Rapp and her girlfriend, Y/N. The room was filled with the familiar scent of popcorn, evidence of their movie night ritual. Renée reclined on the couch, her tough exterior momentarily replaced by a relaxed posture as she cradled the remote control in one hand.

Y/N nestled against Renée, finding comfort in the warmth of her girlfriend's presence. Their fingers interlaced, creating a silent connection between them. As scenes of an action-packed movie unfolded on the screen, Renée couldn't help but share her thoughts in her characteristic no-nonsense style.

"Did you see that move? That's how you handle business," Renée remarked, a hint of admiration in her voice as a particularly badass character dispatched a group of enemies on screen.

Y/N chuckled, lifting her head to meet Renée's gaze. "You know, babe, that's just like you. Tough on the outside, but a total softie deep down."

Renée smirked, a playful glint in her eyes. "Softie, huh? I'll have you know I'm as tough as they come."

Y/N grinned, unconvinced. "Oh please, Renée. I've seen you tear up during those emotional scenes. You're a total marshmallow."

Renée feigned offense, placing a hand over her heart. "Hey now, those scenes are just... emotionally charged. Doesn't mean anything."

As the movie continued, their banter seamlessly blended with the on-screen action. The dialogue between Renée and Y/N was a delightful mix of teasing and affection, creating a dynamic that was both entertaining and heartwarming.

In the midst of the movie, Y/N snuggled even closer to Renée. "But seriously, babe, it's one of the things I love about you. You're like a tough cookie with a gooey center."

Renée couldn't hide the smile that tugged at her lips. "Well, you're my princess. Gotta protect that gooey center of yours."

The final credits rolled on the screen, signaling the end of the movie, yet Y/N had no intention of relinquishing her spot on the couch. She remained nestled against Renée, her reluctance to move evident in the way she tightened her grip on Renée's hand.

Renée, ever the multitasker, pulled out a book and began to read. However, her eyes couldn't help but stray from the pages to steal glances at Y/N. There was a subtle yearning in Renée's gaze, a desire for the kind of affection only Y/N could provide.

"You know, princess, I can't focus on this book when you're looking so cute over there," Renée teased, a playful grin on her face.

Y/N chuckled, squeezing Renée's hand. "Maybe I don't want you to focus on the book, Mommy."

Renée raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Oh, is that so? Well, I can't resist my princess's wishes." She set the book aside, giving Y/N her full attention.

As Y/N settled back into Renée's embrace, she decided to change the mood. A soft melody filled the room as Y/N selected a playlist. The gentle strains of a familiar song began to play, and Renée's eyes lit up with recognition.

"Ah, 'Tattoo.' This one's personal for me," Renée remarked, her fingers tracing the invisible ink on her skin that held stories only she could decipher.

Y/N, being an empath due to her ADHD, felt a knot tighten in her chest as the lyrics unfolded. The emotional depth of the song tugged at her heart, and she gazed at Renée, trying to navigate the surge of feelings coursing through her.

Renée, however, saw it differently. For her, "Tattoo" represented a chapter in her life, a story that had been written and resolved. She didn't carry the pain of the past like she did when she first penned the song.

As the song progressed, Y/N couldn't help but ask, "Babe, how do you manage to stay so composed when your own song plays?"

Renée smiled, her eyes holding a mix of nostalgia and contentment. "It's like revisiting an old chapter. It shaped me, but it doesn't define me anymore. I'm in a different place now, with you."

Y/N nodded, still grappling with the emotions stirred by the music. "It's just... I feel everything so intensely. Your pain becomes my pain."

Renée reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Y/N's face. "Hey, I appreciate that. But remember, I'm okay now. You don't have to carry that burden. Focus on the present, on us."

Y/N nodded again, taking a deep breath and trying to anchor herself in the present moment. The remainder of the song played out, and as the final notes faded away, Y/N snuggled even closer to Renée.

"Thanks, babe," Y/N whispered, her voice filled with gratitude and love.

Renée pressed a tender kiss to Y/N's forehead. "Anytime, smooch. Now, let's create some new memories, ones that make the old ones fade away."

As they embraced, the room bathed in the soft glow of the music, they embarked on a journey of their own, weaving a narrative that surpassed any movie or song—a love story uniquely theirs.

The night continued, with Renée and Y/N immersed in the comforting cocoon of their shared space. The glow of the television had faded, leaving only the soft ambience of the room's dim lights. Y/N, still in the midst of their embrace, couldn't shake a persistent restlessness. Her fidgeting was a telltale sign for Renée—Y/N's ADHD was on the verge of spiking.

Renée, ever the attentive partner after four years together, gently caressed Y/N's cheek. "Babe, what's going on in that brilliant mind of yours?"

Y/N sighed, her eyes flitting around the room. "I don't know, it's just... I need something, you know? Like, right now."

Renée chuckled, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Ah, the ADHD cravings strike again. Anything specific or just a general 'something'?"

Y/N paused, her eyes widening with realization. "Food. Definitely food. I can't stop thinking about it."

Renée smirked, realizing this was going to be a night of spontaneous adventures. "Alright, what are you in the mood for, princess?"

Y/N's face lit up with excitement. "Pizza. Definitely pizza. And maybe some ice cream after. Oh, and those cheesy breadsticks!"

Renée laughed, pulling Y/N up from the couch. "Well, it looks like we're embarking on a midnight food quest. To the kitchen!"

As they navigated the kitchen, Renée couldn't help but tease, "You know, we had plans for a date tomorrow. Could've saved this food adventure for then."

Y/N shot her a mischievous grin. "Well, tomorrow is a different day. Tonight is all about indulgence."

The aroma of pizza filled the air as they eagerly waited for it to bake. Y/N couldn't contain her excitement, bouncing on her toes in anticipation.

"You really know how to keep things interesting, babe," Renée remarked, grabbing a bag of popcorn to snack on while they waited.

Y/N, unable to stay still, replied with a playful smile. "Life's too short for predictability, right?"

Renée chuckled, realizing the truth in Y/N's words. "True. And you, my love, bring an endless supply of surprises."

Finally, the timer beeped, announcing the completion of their late-night feast. Y/N practically skipped to the oven, pulling out the pizza with a triumphant grin.

Renée poured some drinks, raising her glass in a toast. "To spontaneous midnight feasts and to my amazing, unpredictable princess."

They clinked glasses, savoring the warmth of the moment. As they settled back on the couch, devouring slices of pizza and sharing laughs, the room was filled with the joy that came from embracing the unexpected.

Renée leaned in, stealing a quick kiss from Y/N between bites. "Tomorrow, we'll go on that date, I promise."

Y/N nodded, a twinkle in her eye. "Deal. But for tonight, let's revel in the spontaneity of our love."

The night wore on, and the energy in the room shifted. Y/N's ADHD, heightened by the stress of a demanding day at school, reached its peak. Her usually vibrant energy became a torrent of restlessness, and Renée, ever attuned to her girlfriend's moods, sensed the struggle beneath the surface.

Renée set aside her work, concern etching her features. "Hey, princess, everything okay?"

Y/N sighed, her hands fidgeting with anything within reach. "Yeah, yeah, just a bit wound up, you know?"

Renée furrowed her brow, recognizing that there was more beneath the surface. "Babe, you can tell me. I can see it's more than just 'a bit wound up.'"

Y/N hesitated, torn between wanting to shield Renée from her worries and the undeniable need for support. Finally, she opened up, "It's just... school was overwhelming today. Presentations, deadlines, the whole package. I didn't want to bother you while you were in the studio."

Renée cupped Y/N's face gently. "You're never a bother, love. We're in this together. Your stress is my stress."

Y/N managed a small smile, appreciating Renée's understanding. "I know, but I didn't want to add to your load. You're working on your music, and I'm proud of you for that."

Renée kissed Y/N's forehead, her love evident in the gesture. "And I'm proud of you, too. But let's tackle this together. How about we take Winston for a run? A little evening jog to shake off the stress?"

Y/N's eyes lit up at the suggestion. "That actually sounds perfect. I need to burn off some of this excess energy."

Renée grinned, grabbing their dog's leash. "Winston's in for a treat. And you, my love, are in for a well-deserved release."

As they stepped outside, the cool night air enveloped them. Winston, their lively canine companion, wagged his tail in excitement. The three of them began their evening run, the rhythmic pounding of their footsteps echoing in the quiet streets.

Renée glanced at Y/N, who was fully immersed in the physical activity, her fidgeting slowly transforming into a more purposeful movement. "Feel the stress melting away, babe?"

Y/N nodded, the wind tousling her hair. "Yeah, it's like I'm leaving it all behind with every step."

Renée couldn't help but admire Y/N's resilience. "You're incredible, you know that? Handling everything with such grace."

Y/N smiled, feeling the warmth of Renée's praise. "And you, Mommy, are my rock. Always there to steady me."

They continued their run, the moon casting a gentle glow on their path. The rhythmic beats of their steps matched the cadence of their conversation, creating a harmonious symphony of support and understanding.

As they reached the end of their run, Y/N's breathing had steadied, and the tightness in her chest had loosened. Renée, catching her breath, pulled Y/N into a tight embrace.

"Better?" Renée asked, her voice a soft whisper against Y/N's ear.

Y/N nodded, grateful for the healing power of a good run and the unwavering support of her partner. "Much better. Thanks for always being there, babe."

Renée kissed Y/N's forehead, their bond stronger than ever beneath the moonlit sky. "Anytime, smooch. We're a team, remember?"

With Winston by their side, they made their way back home, leaving the stress of the day behind and embracing the calming embrace of the night—a reminder that, together, they could weather any storm.

The night continued its gentle descent, and Renée and Y/N found themselves in the comforting routine of getting ready for bed. Renée, typically not one for meticulous planning, had adopted a routine that involved listing the events of the next day—a routine inspired by Y/N's need to prepare and avoid overstimulation.

"Okay, babes, let's go over the plan for tomorrow," Renée said, grabbing a notepad and pen.

Y/N smiled, appreciating Renée's effort to make their lives more organized. "Sure thing, cutie. Lay it on me."

Renée began listing the events with a serious expression, trying to mimic Y/N's method. "So, we have two interviews for the Mean Girls movie in the morning. Then, you have that presentation at school about economics in the morning as well. After that, I've got a studio session for two hours in the afternoon."

Y/N nodded, mentally preparing for the day ahead. "Got it, snuggles. Sounds like a busy day for both of us."

Renée smirked, still getting used to these pet names but secretly enjoying the endearments. "You know, I never thought I'd be into this whole planning thing, but it does make life a bit easier."

Y/N chuckled, wrapping her arms around Renée. "See, babes, organization isn't that bad. And you're doing it all for me."

Renée pressed a kiss to Y/N's forehead. "Anything for you, my love. If it helps you, I'm all in."

Y/N grinned, feeling a surge of gratitude for Renée's willingness to adapt. "You're amazing, you know that? I never thought someone like you would accept someone like me and my chaos."

Renée's eyes softened, and she tucked a strand of hair behind Y/N's ear. "Chaos or not, you're the best thing that happened to me. I want to take care of you, make things a little smoother for you."

Y/N felt her heart swell with affection. "And you do, every day. I'm lucky to have you, babes."

With their bedtime routine complete, Renée turned off the lights, and they snuggled under the blankets. As they drifted off to sleep, the room was filled with a quiet contentment—a reflection of the love and understanding that defined their relationship.

The next day arrived, with its whirlwind of activities. Renée, in between interviews and studio sessions, sent Y/N encouraging messages, making sure she was doing well with her presentation. Y/N, in turn, sent virtual kisses and words of support, grateful for the bond they shared.

As the day unfolded, filled with moments of chaos and calm, Renée and Y/N navigated the challenges together, a team in the truest sense. The interviews, the presentation, the studio session—all were conquered, not as separate tasks but as shared victories.

And as they reunited at the end of the day, exhaustion giving way to the satisfaction of overcoming the day's hurdles, Renée whispered, "We did it, cutie. Teamwork, always."

Y/N smiled, snuggling closer to Renée. "Always, snuggles. I couldn't have asked for a better partner in this crazy journey."

[cookiepie111]

Bite me love me pt 2

Local Austrian man manages to woo and disgust a lady in 5 minutes

König x black reader

A/N: shame you just can't seem to shake that man off. A second part to bite me. Love me. Some time has passed in the story. Reader goes to watch a movie at königs house. Reblogs are appreciated. Smut. Not proofread

Tag list: @thatmusedhatter @himboelover @canyonswft13 @montenegroisr @kneelingshadowsalome @havikshoochiemama @wordstome @lanalafey

"Hey :)"

.... It's him again

"So what that guy who pulled out a knife out on your date??"

"Yeah. Then he won't stop messaging me, and pulled up at my house."

"Yeah.....he also bought you a coat. Which you're now wearing. To his house...."

It's time for your friend to mind her business...

" .... if I didn't go to his he'd just come to mine!"

Which isn't false he's done so multiple times since your first date. To give flowers, pick you or simply because he was bored. Maybe if you know where he lives it will give you a leg up on him?? Find some dirt on him. Something, anything!

♡

His place is nice. Way nicer than you could have thought, his city house seemed like the safer option. simple and clean, honestly, it looked like no one lived here, there's no pictures or trinkets. No items that could even tell you anything about say for the stack of cd's on the table. Old school. That's all you got.

"......."

"....."

you can't enjoy this movie. It feads in the background, while static plays in your head and tingles in the back of your eyes. The week's been a little bit too rough with you. There isn't a support network here like there is back home, no friends you run to, calling them just isn't the same. you need to talk and cry to someone. You need some comfort. You need to be held.

It's his thumb wiping away the tears from your eyes that brings you back. "What's wrong?" so wrapped up in your feelings, you forget how close he was, cradling your face in his hands as he inspects you. leaning down to get a closer look at you, blurry eyed mess

You can't help it , burst into tears hard, choosing to hide away in his shirt than face him. He holds you close to his chest, pulling you in, allowing you to take out your emotions on his chest. He's so warm.

"I-I've just ha - had a rough week. --Been really str-stressed. " it's hard to get the sentence out between hiccups it's silly. You couldn't even point a finger to any one thing that upset you. It just felt awful inside. Tight so wound up why bother telling him. But it wouldn't stop you kept crying.

His touch is spreading warthm all over you, from the hand that rubs your head to your back. To think he could be so gentle. That you'd fine solice in this man.

"It's okay. A rough week can be fixed. I will help you. I'll be here for you"

Oh, he's being so kind.

This is it ,This is the comfort you've been missing, feeling you've been craving. His body so warm and steady next to yours. This is-

"Having an orgasm will help you calm down and relax"

.....

UGHH!

And just like that, the spell is broken, veil lifted. This man is no longer comforting or sweet. The arm around no longer comforting, you quickly need his hands off you.

Yet His hand still remains.

The disgust in your eyes is apparent, too strong for him to brush off as he quickly moves to explain himself.

"Female or help realise endorphins and make you feel all happy. If I eat you out, it will make you all warm and fuzy inside. You can stop thinking for a bit-

[Cut the fucking cameras]

His rambling fades out as you stare blank eyed at this man. Is, is he really trying to justify why he should get to eat you out.... ugh oh gosh that's what you get for trusting this man. time to leave

"It's fine, just lie down it's fine." You're snaped out of thoughts by his hands, moving you to lie down.

"König!" He's wrestling you down before you can complain.

"Shh, sshh, it's fine, darling. I'll take those nasty thoughts away"

It happens a little bit too quickly, the tugging of your pants, discarding of your underwear before you know it he's staring at your bare pussy and suddenly realise how serious he is about this

"Wait könig-"

He doesn't waste any time, that's for certain. Fucking his tongue into you, he eats like he's been longing for this like this was the only moment for him. Feeding the deep ache in his stomach.

Your legs hurt, pulled so far apart over his shoulder, Somethings stiring deep in your stomach. it's hard to breathe... It's so hard to fight it, to not clench around the tongue working at you.

"Ahhhh"

The sounds he's pulling from you are embarrassing, too desperate to be yours. It sounds foreign to your ears.

It's hot in your belly, pleasure shooting around your brain. you're struggling to form a sentence, pushing his head further in you

"König!"

You'd never said his name like that before, so sweet and needy.It made him stop the words rolled in his head he licked his teeth coming up.

you whine a little. he looks so big. Seeing his face, the evidence of his hard work, your pleasure dripping down his face. It's so embarrassing.

He needs to hear it again, that desperate voice of yours crying his name. He can use his fingers on you, see your desperate face while you cry out his name. But no luck, you felt him everywhere, the fingers deep in you, the hand holding your shoulder down, lips on your neck. What a heavy burden this man is. You're nothing but a crying mess under him

He's right it did clear your head. you feel a lot better now

♡

He let's you catch you breath. Pulling you up to lie on his chest. Your brain feels fuzzy, mouth heavy and dry.

That feeling between your legs won't go away. The ache is still there. You can't look him in the eye it's too embarrassing can't voice what you want, just want him again. Tugging his arm to your legs

He hums and happily to oblige

[ könig in his diary tonight. I think she's warming up to me! :)]

[romancefranaticstay]

A/N: Because i really didn't know which member you wanted, i will use Lee Know for this, i haven't made story's about him in a while. Feel free to comment if you had another member in mind or members! But here is it! I hope you like it 💗

The perfect family with the perfect children. Your parents had a lot of money, okay. Your parents had a lot of stuff, what difference does that make? The only thing you didn't get was love. Money couldn't compensate with love. Even when you were little, your parents didn't pay you any attention. You were babysat while they did something else. You didn't really know where they were going.

They weren't brutal or gruesome behind the scenes, they just didn't care about you, ignoring your words, ignoring your problems. Then they wonder why you didn't like them. What a child endures in his youth has consequences for the future. Even though they didn't understand that.

FLASHBACK

'Don't forget, smile, nod and serve.'

your mother said sternly. You were neatly dressed, you had a beautiful dark blue dress with neat black shoes. You could say the perfect daughter. Your parents' faces were cold. They prepared everything so that they could receive their friends in the large living room. A bell sounded, they had arrived. Your mother walked to the door with a stern step, once she opened it she became a different person. It was as if her soul was being swapped. You stood behind her, peering, there was some distance between you.

'Welcome! Give your things to Y/N.”

“Ahh, hello girl. You've already grown up.'

"Yes, she's my big girl." your mother laughed with a fake smile.

She hugged you quickly, even though you felt no warmth, no love. Your parents pampered you all the time. It felt bad that they only did it because there were guests, but at the moment you enjoyed it. When the guests wanted to leave, you mentally prepared yourself again. Once the door was closed, your parents went into the living room and just sat there.

"Mommy, daddy, do you love me?"

"What kind of question is that, you are our daughter."

'Is that all?'

'Is there more?'

'No.' you said quietly.

You went up the stairs to your bedroom. Your bedroom was nice and big, with lots of toys and lots of stuff. Despite the luxury, you missed something. Your friends always told stories about their parents reading them stories or watching a movie together. Cozy and cozy in the armchair with a big fluffy blanket... you cried in your room that day, when you realised, you never received parental love...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The real problem started when you were eighteen. You met a cool guy at your university. His name was Lee Know. You quickly became friends. Your relationship grew and at one point he wanted to be roommates. Of course your parents didn't care. Even though they were very 'emotional' about the move (the move was public). After a year you started dating. Now you're 21, you've been with him for two years. Suddenly he asked for something that you couldn't give him.

“Y/N, I never actually met your parents?”

'Really?' you lied.

'Yes, I would like to meet them sometime. The people who created you are probably just as sweet as you are.'

'Yes, they certainly are.' you forced a smile onto your face.

"I'll take care of it." you lied.

You had told him they were busy at the moment. You tried for two weeks to focus his thoughts elsewhere, and it still worked. He forgot after a while, but then he asked again and again, again and again. Eventually he started to think that you didn't want to introduce him to his parents, technically that was true, but not in the way he thought.

“Y/N, why won't you introduce me to your parents?”

you froze.

'Why? Are you ashamed of me?'

"No, no, Lee Know that's not the reason." '

'Then what? Then what is the reason? I introduced you to my parents, right?'

"I know that, I know that."

"You're going to tell me a thorough reason now."

“I-i..”

tears came to your eyes, they rolled down your cheeks by the hundreds. Lee Know's face softened.

“Hey, hey, I didn't mean to hurt you. I just-, I just wanted to know why?'

he wiped the tears from your face with his hands.

"I hate them." you whispered.

"You, you hate them?" You nodded softly, not wanting to look at him right now.

'Why?'

you continued to stare at the ground. He gently lifted your chin.

“Look at me Y/N. Tell me.'

Your lips quivered, you started to stutter. Lee Know hugged you and rocked you from side to side.

“Shh, I get it. Just tell me when you're ready, okay?'

He felt you nod against his chest. He picked you up in one motion, your hands were around his neck. He carried you to the bedroom and gently laid you on the bed. He grabbed his laptop and covered himself and you with a warm blanket. He put on a series, you curled up against him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You opened your eyes and saw Lee Know awake. He was looking at you. His arms still hugging you.

'You want to tell me it?'

You accepted.

'The thing is, my parents didn't give me any love when I was little. They were different at home than outside. They gave me a lot of stuff and luxury, but that was it.”

he nodded.

'I want to introduce you to them, but not them to you. I just don't want to be in the same room as them, it would all be too much for me.'

"Why didn't you tell me that earlier?"

'I don't know, I'm trying to get them out of my life. Forgetting them, no matter how difficult it may be.'

"I get it, I won't bother you about it anymore okay?"

He held you tighter. You nuzzled into his chest.

'May I ask you something?'

"Of course kitten."

"How does it feel to have parents?"

'What do you mean?'

"How does it feel to have parents and not people who just made you."

"I'll be honest, I love my parents dearly because they love me dearly too."

You nodded.

"My parents also love you dearly, for you you are their daughter."

'Really?'

“Yes Y/N. They constantly check with me to see if everything is okay with you. They ask for you, just like concerned parents.'

You had some tears of happiness in your eyes.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lee Know's parents were slowly becoming your 'parents' too. You grew very close to his mother, she was like the mother you never had. Your parents didn't bother you, because they didn't call you anyway. Life continued again. You could proudly say that you were no longer Y/N I/N but Y/N Know.

┌────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┐

-------------------------------- THE END----------------------------------

└────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┘

[dr-spectre]

RANT POST ABOUT CALLIE AHEAD!!!

I need to get some old and built up feelings out of my chest before i explode into a trillion pieces, if you do not wish to see a LONG rambling about me getting mad and rageful about this important character to me then by all means skip over and have a good rest of your day or night!

If you can handle me getting a bit pissed off and mean then keep on reading!!

This will also be a VERY LONG POST!!! Because I have a lot to rant about. Some of it i have talked about before many times but i need to talk about them... Again..

So anyways. If you wanna move on, that's okay, if you wanna stick around? That's all good as well!!! I highly HIGHLY encourage you to read all that I have to say. Okay? Thank you!

You know, as someone who has put in a lot of time and research into Hypno Callie and the others. What I've come to notice in media is that people tend to use the words mind control, brainwashing, hypnosis, influence, indoctrination, corruption, all interchangeably despite each word having vastly different meanings and connotations and effects.

Brainwashing has been used as an incorrect word to describe a lot of these kinds of plots in TV, movies, games, etc. and it really bugs me personally. Like, if you see something as clearly hypnosis, they explain that it is hypnosis and there is a hypnotic element at play here, you cannot just slap the word brainwashing onto it. It's like if I called a mango an apple you know? Or if I showed you a squid and you called it an octopus and you were REALLY adamant that it's an octopus.

Another example, if there's mind controlled zombies that are being controlled by aliens or something, slapping the word hypnotised or brainwashing onto that scenario is stupid because they clearly explained it in the story with evidence that it's straight up direct mind control and nothing else.

This doesn't just to apply to Splatoon btw, this annoyance goes for every other time a "mind control" plot has occurred in fiction.

I don't wanna sound rude here, I really don't! But guys, do you realise that we have this cool thing all across the world called a language? And languages have words in them!!!! And words have meanings in them that are brains understand and interpret!?

If I say the word "fluffy" what do you think of? "Fluff, fur, cute, huggable, adorable." You think of cute fluffy things, yeah?

If I say the word "hypnosis" what do you think of? A trance like state, a weird altered state of consciousness, maybe even a weird sleep/flow state?

If I say the word "brainwashed" what do you think of? Cults, militarily, experiments, evil, etc.

You guys see why I take issue? You guys see why I am extremely picky and laser focused on people's word choices when it comes to Callie and what happened? You guys see why I get really angry when people who do fuck tons of research into the events of Splatoon forget that languages exist and fail to see things past a fucking Wikipedia article?!? Is it seriously THAT hard for some people to say hypnotised?

I don't even necessarily blame most people for the words that they use, they don't know any better! And you know what? That's okay! I don't wanna get mad at SOME people since that word has been used incorrectly in media for a long ass time. And you wanna know another reason why i don't blame the casual fan or someone not in the know that much too? Because even the SPLATOON DEVELOPERS use brainwashing to describe Callie which is just... from my research and posts, incorrect.

I have yet to find a single person who can confidently explain to me that Callie was actually brainwashed and provide evidence to me to prove their points. Cause all I see is people just saying that "oh, a wiki and an artbook said so, so it must be true." Instead of looking at the actual game and looking at Hypno Callie's personality, behaviour, actions, etc. and comparing them to regular Callie.

Why do you think 99% of people call her Hypno Callie? Like there's a reason as to why her name is that in most circles... Have you ever talked to someone who calls her brainwashed Callie? Probably not...

God... I'm really sorry if i come off as some gatekeeping fan or elitist snob or some shit. I'm not trying to be and i don't wanna be like that. I wanna educate people, make people think of a different perspective and make people think a little more you know?

I'm just getting tired of it all... It affects how I see Hypno Callie and the events of Splatoon 2. I can't enjoy it when some people throw out these certain words, and it makes me feel so sad and terrible. And not in an engaging way, just a sadness that fucking stings my chest and I'm SO SICK OF IT!!!!!

I just despise this notion in the Splatoon community, Inkipedia, YouTube videos, social media and official sources that Callie was kidnapped out of the blue when she was alone and Octavio forced the shades onto her, brainwashing her and removing her memories. I hate it so much. It's something that truly fills me with great sadness and pain and pure anger. Callie is a comfort character of mine and to hear that scenario for her in official canon is just... no. I can't accept it. I refuse to accept such a vile and awful thing. It makes the Octarians more evil and way less sympathetic that way too, it makes DJ Octavio's eventual redemption make less sense because in one game he's this fucking monster and the next he's like "Hey guys imma help you out!" It makes his character incredibly inconsistent at that point.

it makes his appearance with Cuttlefish at the Grand Fest feel less satisfying because there this huge black spot on his character from Splatoon 2 where he apparently did something truly evil and unredeemable. Why would Cuttlefish be okay with standing next to a man who """kidnapped and brainwashed"""" his grand daughter?! I don't care about their history together, if i was Cuttlefish and I heard about that kind of event for my grand daughter, I WOULD NEVER FORGIVE OCTAVIO!!!

Hypnosis by nature is less evil and has more nuance and agency for Callie and the Octarians. Sure it's still fucking bad but not as extreme and dark as brainwashing is. The two terms are so vastly different and using either word willy-nilly is extremely annoying and frustrating to me.

Hypnosis ≠ brainwashing and you cannot prove to me otherwise. You literally cannot mind control someone with hypnosis, that's not how it works. They are so opposite of each other it's actually insane. I DON'T GET WHY PEOPLE USE THEM INTERCHANGEABLY ALL THE FUCKING TIME?!?! WHY?!?!!? Is it a lack of knowledge?!? Lack of caring?! Is it because of how hypnosis is portrayed?!?!

And the whole "Callie was kidnapped/abducted." My god... Do people understand what words are coming out of their fucking mouths?

Callie was more than willing to join the Octarians and she said to them "okay fine I'll hear you out." That is not KIDNAPPING!!!!!!!!!! THAT STATEMENT MADE BY CALLIE GOES AGAINST THE DEFINITION OF THE WORD!!!!

I don't know why they say this in some official sources either, i don't know why Inkipedia lists it on their pages. i don't know why fans keep wanting to push this idea that Callie was kidnapped, is it because an artbook said so and nothing in the game? I don't know why timeline explainers and people who do a fuck ton of research into Splatoon push it too. If Callie was kidnapped you figure she would mention it. But she doesn't!!!! Marie does and says she was brainwashed in the North American (NoA) localization, but of course she would think that and from her perspective she would figure that is the case from her limited knowledge of what happened to Callie.

God I just.... I hate it when people say Callie was brainwashed. I fucking despise it. It makes me so violently angry and upset and EVERYONE WHO HAS A LOUD VOICE IN THE COMMUNITY SAYS IT!!!

This doesn't even impact just Callie. It impacts the entirety of the Octarians as a species and DJ Octavio too. I LIKE DJ OCTAVIO!! I THINK HE WAS FUNNY IN SPLATOON 1! I like his role in Splatoon 3 and how he redeems himself and how he appeared in the Grand Festival with Cuttlefish. It ties back to before the Great Turf War when the Inklings and Octarians were on good terms and now finally that peace is back....

But this enjoyment... this appreciation of his character growth gets ruined because of the shit Nintendo did and what the fanbase did when Splatoon 2 rolled around... I can't enjoy Octavio as a character anymore because of the notion that Callie was brainwashed by him.

I can't look at his inkipedia page because IN THE FIRST PARAGRAPH THEY SAY HE BRAINWASHED HER!!!!

And don't you EVEN MENTION the line "I remixed Callie's brain!" My brother in Christ, that is not only a call back to a line he said in the final boss of Splatoon 1, but it's also because DJ Octavio is a.. idk... DJ!!!! A DISC JOCKEY!!!! In the NoA version of Splatoon, Octavio's personality is very loud and in your face, compared to his more sinister and intense personality in the European and original Japanese versions. This serious personality was only given to Octavio finally in the NOA version of Splatoon 3 ROTM where his personality actually matches his Japanese and European versions from Splatoon 1 and 2.

Octavio says puns and musical terms to describe shit in the NoA versions of Splatoon 1 and 2. Remixing by definition is taking a song and altering it to make something new. What is Hypno Callie? A REMIX OF CALLIE!!!! It's Callie but she's more aggressive, emotional and impulsive. And you know where we've seen this remix of Callie before? IN SPLATOON 1!!!! IN THE SPLATFEST DIALOGUE!!!!

Octavio didn't literally mean that he "remixed her brain." via actual brain, washing. He just means that he gave Callie a new twist, and Callie in her hypnotic state was like "okay fine I'll hear you out."

Octavio hypnotising Callie who wanted to help the Octarians anyways out of her own free will, planting suggestions into her head that SHE HERSELF ACCEPTED AS DURING HYPNOSIS, SUGGESTIONS GIVEN CANNOT GO AGAINST THE PERSON'S MORALS AND IDEOLOGIES!!! So that Callie would be more likely to stay in Octo Canyon and not decide to suddenly run off as Callie was under a lot of mental distress and emotion from her busy and lonely life, and allowing Callie to put her influence onto Octo Canyon to help his people and boost motivation, fits more in line with Splatoon as a series and Octavio as a character than the whole "he brainwashed Callie" bullshit that has plagued the internet for 7 years and continuing. Why do you think Callie is so chill to see DJ Octavio come back in Splatoon 3 huh? Why do you think she misses shaven Octarians in ROTM? Why do you think she calls Octarians cute? Hmm... I WONDER WHY?!?!?!

Is Octavio still bad? Yes! Did he use Callie to benefit his people? YES!!!! Was Octavio being manipulative and selfish? FUCK YES!!! HE'S THE ANTAGONIST!!!! I AM NOT RESOLVING THAT MAN OF BLAME!!!! DONT GET MY WORDS TWISTED!!! HE'S STILL BAD! just not unredeemable... because once you say he brainwashed someone and forcefully removed Callie's memories like a pure evil monster, then you have a character who is pretty much unredeemable at that point. You have made him cross a line that he can't turn back from. You implanted these disgusting and disturbingly sexual suggestions about Octavio and Callie and her outfit. Why the FUCK do you want that? Why?! Why do you wanna even suggest the idea that Callie was forced to wear skimpy clothing against her consent and knowledge? Do you know how fucking DISGUSTING AND EVIL THAT IS?!?!?! FOR A SERIES SUCH AS SPLATOON?!?!?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA ON WHAT YOU ARE TRYING TO FUCKING IMPLY HERE?!?!?!

WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?!?!?! GOD!!!! WHY DO YOU WANT THESE AWFUL THINGS DONE TO CALLIE AGAINST HER KNOWLEDGE AND CONSENT IN THE MAIN TIMELINE!!??!?!?!?!! For AUs I get it, it's your right as a fan to make fanfiction and explore darker topics. I personally won't read it but I won't EVER stop someone from making a darker AU. It has its place in the community and I 100% respect it with all of my heart. I truly respect those who make dark AUs and darker takes on Splatoon because I'm sure it's fun and interesting for some people. To each their own! I actually like hearing my friends talk about Fuzzy AUs and stuff like that, given the time and place, darker toned AUs are something that i find really interesting but I'm not super duper in love with them.

But don't you DARE put these disgusting and sexual undertones about Callie and the Octarians in the main canon. Fuck off. Don't you even try and suggest that the Octarians are this purely evil race that forced Callie into a revealing outfit while she was completely unaware and it was against her consent. And that they just grabbed her... god... Jesus Christ man. Fuck. I hate thinking about that so much dude.

This type of scenario that people push did NOT happen.

THIS DID!

I'm so angry. I'm so sorry for this giant humongous rant. I care a lot about Callie. I only want the best for her. I only want a more engaging and more in-depth take on Splatoon 2. I want to enjoy Tidal Rush, I want to enjoy Spicy Calamari Inkantation, I want to enjoy Fresh Start, I want to enjoy the Bomb Rush Blush remix like how i enjoy Unconscience by Marina Agitando. I want to enjoy Hypno Callie in general, BUT SOMETIMES I JUST CANT AND I GET SO SAD AND MY CHEST HURTS!!!! This has been going on FOR SOOO LONGGG!!

I keep making all these posts about Callie because I still see that kind of bullshit being thrown around. Imagine having a perspective on a character you really love and you try and hold on to it. But everyone else around is pushing that perspective down and you feel so sad and stupid and ridiculous... And so your only option left is to scream and bark and yell....

I am literally gonna keep ranting until I can see the word "brainwashed" in media without having a fucking heart attack. I wanna just be able to enjoy Callie's arc and see it for what it truly is...

A story about two cousins drifting apart... Callie becoming so popular and famous... and lonely... that she became so mentally distraught and overthought everything. She did something incredibly irrational. She went to Octavio and the Octarians. Octavio knows that Callie can be a huge help to him after his loss and so he enlisted her help. And she just said, "okay, fine."

She was given hypnotic shades by Octavio in order to keep her more under control as she was ridden with mental illness and could leave Octo Canyon at any point with her overthinking. But he did NOT put her under total control and brainwash her, he needed Callie's influence for the Octarians, to decorate bases and add her touch into their music. The Octarians became happy and more motivated then ever. He didn't need a drone to help him. He needed, CALLIE.

However... Callie, in the canyon, lost herself, she gave into bitterness, hatred, sadness, anger... She knows who she is, but her memory is so cloudy and muffled by emotion and the shades... She needs help... Proper. Help. You can hear it in the songs found within the Octo Canyon, her reversed vocals sound so sad and deeply emotional...

When Marie arrives, Callie is mad at her, she wants nothing to do with her. But when Marie shoots the shades off of her, Callie is still dazed, upset, emotional, sick, she dances and continues to sing back against Marie's desperate words and pleas... Marie only wants to repair their broken relationship and lend out a hand to her cousin who needs to see the light....

But, when that heavenly melody echoed in that stadium, it was like a rushing tide of memories and feelings flooded into Callie. All of her and Marie's time performing, hosting news, celebrating Splatfests, and arriving to Inkopolis for the first time, came back to her and dispelled the darkness in her heart.

Callie heard the melody and went "wait... This isn't me! What am i doing!? YEAH! I REMEMBER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

And well... The rest is history, the pair healed their relationship over the course of a few years and are stronger than ever.

They fulfilled their fresh start, they helped redeem an angry vengeful man from the past, they inspired the present with Off the Hook, and they planted the seeds for the future in Deep Cut.

and they won the Grand Festival... TOGETHER!

Well... At least that's MY interpretation on things ;). And i want my interpretation to be held strong in my head... I'm tired of getting chest pains man... I'm tired of feeling this sadness and pain... I'm tired of going on Inkipedia and seeing that FUCKING word. I'm tired of being scared to watch YouTube videos focusing on lore and the story of Splatoon because deep down i KNOW they will say that word that has such fucking horrible connotations and meaning behind it...

Anyways. I think I'm done. I think I'm just in a huge ranting mode and I had to get it out, my autism was really acting up and i wanted to vomit this stuff out of me. I hope you guys feel what I'm feeling and if you have a character who you feel similar towards, let me know! Let the anger out. Okay?

Have a Callie for sticking around and actually reading. You're amazing.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Tita Merello (Mercado De Abasto, La Morocha, Amorina)— Was she pretty? Probably not. Was she hot? Incredibly so. She said it herself: "I was seen as ugly... Then I realized you don't need to be pretty. It's enough just to act like you are". With a highly recognizable voice and manner (which immortalized her in countless drag shows, just look her up performing "Se Dice De Mí"!), she was THE Argentinean icon during the fifties. As with so many artists she began with really humble origins (she didn't learn to read until she was in her twenties), and she was one of the few that kept truly being humble and thankful for all the luck she had and everything she worked so hard for. Despite being a proper diva Tita was a woman of the people first and foremost, portraying almost exclusively working-class women who by the strength of their determination and guts manage to keep themselves afloat in all manners of difficult situations. She openly talked about her uterine cancer at a time it was considered taboo, had the sharpest wittiest tongue in the business, was a greatly renowned performer and comedian, was notably kind to everyone who ever worked with her, but was also very much famous for taking no shit... She feared nobody but God and even that might be debatable.

Vera-Ellen (On the Town, White Christmas)— she's a phenomenal and charismatic dancer, I'd say UNMATCHED in terms of movement. She's just hypnotizing, so sharp and musical and she always looks like shes having so MUCH FUN! Furthermore she has a beautiful smile and a silliness/playfulness to her acting I love. Her real life story is somewhat sad and the death of her daughter kept her from blowing up as a bigger star, but the delight she brings to the movies she was in is so memorable!

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Tita Merello:

Vera-Ellen:

Have you seen her dance!? Right up there with Grace Kelly for grace and beauty and her tap performances can be jaw dropping.

Her dancing skills are so impressive it makes me forget how to speak. She moves like she’s made out of elastic, and she looks good doing it. Also she has great chemistry with Danny Kaye (RIP to the men’s bracket, he was gone too soon) and is just… stunning. Deserves to be known for way more but sadly she had a pretty tough life. But she was so so talented, and I love her.

Her dancing with Danny Kaye in White Christmas is absolutely wonderful.

vera-ellen is one of the most technically skilled dancers to EVER dance, according to fred astaire and others. she had the most beautiful voice, she was incredibly hard working, she was a ROCKETTE at one point AND was on broadway for several years before doing movies and later tv. she was rumored to be dealing with mental health issues her whole life, and she still managed to come out on top. overall an incredible career. and oh my god ladies. her legs. her control. she’s so delicate and lovely whenever she dances, it’s absolutely incredible. she’s always so light on her feet. i could watch her dance forever.

amazing dancer, down to earth vibes onscreen, such a talent

Extremely underappreciated today but she was one of the best dancers in Hollywood's classic era.

she's lip synching here but i think it conveys the hotness:

Best known for her dancing and Barbie-doll figure. She was briefly a Rockette but was fired for standing out too much. She danced with both Fred Astaire and Gene Kelly, and showed off her comedic chops in White Christmas with Danny Kaye. She said dancing for her was like breathing; if she stopped it’d be “very bad”.

I was quite literally floored as a child when I found out Vera Ellen wasn’t a bigger star considering her in White Christmas was a huge part of my bi awakening- gorgeous and talented!

[azumasoroshi]

suzume no tojimari spoilers ! hi guys im Insane

literature analysis brain is going haywire so here’s a bunch of incoherent ramblings some themes motifs and symbolism i love in this movie because AAAAAAA

Love and Sacrifice.

Obviously, but like the different kinds of love and devotion and how they’re never perfect and sometimes self-destructive but they’re so powerful and just waughhh. It was so important to me how after exploding at her Tamaki (suzume’s aunt, ik im not the only one who forgets names) was like “you know I don’t feel that way all the time, right?” like not denying that yes, she has felt exhausted of taking care of Suzume and sometimes wished she didn’t have to take care of her, trying to be the parental figure she needs while also trying to not encroach on her sister’s memory. It means so much to me that she didn’t deny those feelings but instead told Suzume that it’s not how she always feels, because loving someone means sacrifice and ewughghgghfgfh im not putting this into words well but htrggfhgf.

and ALSO the reciprocation of kindness with daijin - as thanks for the taste of freedom at last, and wanting to be with someone whom you love but not really comprehending that what they want (that “suzume doesn’t love me” killed me) and how by the end daijin helped her pull souta out and sacrificed himself for suzume because he really loved her ggrgfggfhfnfnch

And just. everyday love. This is kind of a mix of themes and motifs but every time we flashed back to the memories of whatever abandoned place they were in - the simple “good morning”s and “be back soon” and “it’s so hot”s made me choke up. the mundane love of Chika and Suzume in their newly found friendship, Rumi’s kindness in picking Suzume up off the street and her love for her children, Serizawa’s platonic love for Souta letting him drive these two crazy women with crazy beef for 7 hours across Japan, there’s just so much expression of love and the hardships people go through because of it and rhgrjgrjhgdhgjhb

Mourning and Closure.

Makoto Shinkai himseld said that he wanted to write a story about “mourning deserted places” (at least according to Wikipedia) so this one is all but textual but like yeah. the motif of opening/closing/locking doors and locking the bike and things like that? AaAAaAaa

To close the gates, you need to imagine the emotions of people who once lived there - i can only imagine what Souta was thinking in the abandoned bathhouse area, but hrhggejghw the school and the amusement park and the shots we got of normal life in tokyo before the worm revealed itself in the climax, it just. really speaks to the beauty of everyday life. im a sucker for that kind of stuff as both a psychology major and just a weird person who thinks “man i wonder what happened to this person for the past 22 years of their life that led them to be here with me in this moment” whenever i pass someone in the grocery store. Hodaka could let japan be flooded in weathering with you because of his love for hina, but suzume’s whole arc was learning about the common people and living their lives and embracing all the kindness they had to offer to herself and others and it really hits that like. of course she can’t just let tokyo get destroyed to save Souta, every person in all of tokyo is just like Rumi and Chika and Serizawa and they’re all people who love and are loved. She finds herself in Souta’s place as one who stretches himself thin between being a gate closer and studying to be a teacher because he loves life as well, and-

oops i forgot i was talking about mourning and closure

anyway the doors keep getting reopened because the grief never fully goes away and the worm of “calamity” is letting yourself be consumed by the grief and destroying the people around you and not being able to move on, and it comes from the Ever-after becomes ever-after is a place where time doesn’t exist and you wish you could be there forever because it’s where you can relive the events of your past, it’s where you can live in denial that time moves forward and you have to move with it, it’s where Suzume goes after her mother dies because she wants people to stop giving her condolences and just give her her mom back. “Ever-after” in itself is a “happily ever after” - a place where mortals aren’t meant to go, no matter how beautiful it looks. Souta goes there too because he is the catalyst Suzume needs to go back and face Ever-after - and it’s no longer beautiful, but it’s torn apart by grief and everything is in flames. The idea of a keystone as well, locking the memories and hurt away, is one that Suzume removes to relive her memories and puts back in place when she’s ready to move on. htrhgfhgfghfghf. she won’t let souta be the keystone because she refuses to move on without him.

Also both Souta and his grandfather tell Suzume to just forget everything she’s seen, but it’s too late for that because connections aren’t so easily forgotten. Even when Tamaki couldn’t remember telling Suzume she’d be her new mother, that doesn’t change that she cared for her for the next 12 years anyway. Suzume visits Chika and Rumi by the end, and obviously she’s never forgotten her mother, both because her chair was still in her room by the start of the movie and because she looks like her by the end. Even though relationships change, they’re never forgotten in the movie, and I think that’s beautiful, really.

(also cool detail: 12 years ago is when the tsunami that killed suzume’s mother struck. the movie came out in 2023, and the touhoku earthquake/tsunami that inspired this film was in 2011. nice)

Reality vs Fantasy

The scenes where Suzume goes out into public again following stopping the worm from destroying Tokyo were especially poignant to me. This girl’s been going on a fantastical adventure with her talking chair and talking cat, meeting nice people and making friends, excited at the idea that she’s doing something important, but after Souta’s gone she shuts down. Her feet are bloodied, her clothes are destroyed, and people keep giving her strange looks and calling her homeless because she may have stopped the worm but even without being consumed by grief, it still isn’t pretty or picturesque. Standing out in Japanese society is discouraged, as most of us are well aware, but she’s been doing nothing but that with all the running around and talking to chairs and flying through the sky she’s been doing. Without a concrete goal in mind, without Souta as company, she’s alone in the world of adulthood and has no one to tell her what she should do, no Souta to guide her through Tokyo. And without that confidence or charm, people don’t come to her aid like they did before. It’s only once she finds her resolve to save Souta, quite literally walking in his shoes/footsteps, that the next helpful stranger (Serizawa) comes in.

She could imagine those abandoned places as alive, but the truth is that they were abandoned and will stay that way - none of them miraculously revived by the end, unless something happened in the credits that I couldn’t see through all my tears. Reality will not bring those places back, but what really matters is how we carry the memories of those places with us? I think. man maybe it’d be easier to write this post if i had actually seen the end credits

this post is really fucking long so im calling it here 😭 makoto shinkai has done it again. goddammit

[fictionalreads]

Hello do you think you could do this one the reader and Mike are married and she knew about Lockwood but Mike didn't believe her because of Rita, reason, and they had an argument he said something that he should never said and she got kidnapped while being months pregnant 😦😦😦😦

A/N: HIIIII!! I'm so sorry this took so long, I was out of town and then had to get back in the rhythm of things once I got back. Writing for Mike (where it's his story and he's not playing the role of narrator for the sake of Armando) was different. I included Rita but I just couldn't make her the reason he didn't believe reader, I just felt like she and the reader wouldn't have beef so that was changed but I tried to stick to the rest of your request. I hope you enjoy this! 🥰 Title from Forget How to Love by Meghan Trainor

I Know Your Words Shouldn't Hurt Me, But They Hurt Me

Fandom: Bad Boys Movie

Pairing: Mike Lowrey x reader

Warnings⚠️: Um... Relationship issues? canon typical violence even though its mostly talked around

You knew when you married Mike Lowrey that he was used to doing things alone, that moving as a unit didn’t come naturally to him. Sure he had Marcus and they were a well oiled machine, but it didn’t start that way and at the end of the day Marcus had a family that was his priority no matter how much he loved Mike.

But Mike was your priority, you’d go through hell for him.

He knew this, but after relying on himself for so long, he didn’t always come to you first. His initial reaction to anything was to internalize and figure out a solution, only coming to you after he failed on his own. You were used to it, but it didn’t make it less hurtful every time he did it.

You on the other hand, preferred talking it out with him. You liked to explain the issue to him, not looking for him to fix it, but rather to vent it out to someone you trusted, someone who would let you think through it all out loud, sometimes offering his own two cents. You usually were able to solve the issue on your own while talking it out, but having him as a sounding board made you feel less alone. Mike was good at listening to what you had to say.

Which is why you were so surprised when he was dismissive about your concerns.

“I’m telling you, something is off with Lockwood,” you insisted.

“The man is one of the best U.S. attorneys I’ve ever worked with. He’s part of the reason AMMO exists and has tried a lot of high profile criminals that nobody else would touch cause they were afraid of the blowback.”

You shrugged, having already thought of this too. “The best criminals hide in plain sight, gain your trust and make sure you’d never think of them.”

“This ain’t Scooby Doo, alright? This is the real world, let’s get back to reality please.” You knew he didn’t mean anything by it, not really, but it felt like a dig.

“You don’t believe me? You think I’m making it all up?” You were defensive, ready to 

“I never said you were making it up, I’m just not convinced. What proof do you have?” He placated.

He had you there. There was no concrete evidence, nothing specific that made you feel like Lockwood was hiding something, but you just knew he was.

“I don’t have any, it’s just a gut feeling. Intuition or whatever you want to call it.”

“Intuition? You want me to investigate a man who will probably be the next mayor of Miami cause you feel something?”

He was being dismissive at best, belittling at worst. It irked you, especially because you knew he had done exactly that for others before. So why not for his wife?

“Would you do it if it was Rita?” It was a bit bitchy to ask, considering Rita had been nothing but kind to you despite being Mike’s ex. You had thought she’d be a point of contention for the two of you when you first started dating and you found out he worked with her all day, but it wasn’t. You weren’t using her now to pick a fight, just to prove a point. You knew if any of the AMMO team had come to him with the same amount of information you had, he’d chase every lead until there was nothing left.

“What?”

His surprise was warranted so you clarified, “would you look into it if Rita came to you and said she felt something off about Lockwood?” 

“Why are you bringing Rita into this?” His evasive answer made the hairs on your neck stand up. Why wouldn’t he answer the question? You were prepared for him to say yes and for you to point out the hypocrisy of his answer, but him refusing to answer? It put you on edge.

“Why are you ignoring the question?”

“I’m not.”

“Then answer the question. Yes or no?”

“Where is this coming from?” Another avoidance.

“Yes or no Mike?”

“Yes! Okay? Yes I would.”

“Why?”

“Why what?” He knew exactly what you were asking and honestly you were almost afraid of what this was leading to, but you couldn’t seem to stop yourself, to diffuse and come back with a calmer head so you pushed some more.

“Why would you do it for her and not me?”

“Don’t do that.”

“Is it because she’s a cop?”

“Y/N,”

“Or because you’ve known her longer?”

“Y/N,”

“Is it because she’s dating him and therefore closer to him?”

“Because I trust her!”

And wasn’t that a slap in the face.

“And you don’t trust me?” You whispered.

“Y/N,”

“What are we even doing if you don’t trust me Mike? What was the point in exchanging vows and being together if you can’t trust me?”

“I didn’t mean that.”

“You still said it.” Mike was at a loss for words, staring at you, hoping you’d understand but you couldn’t. The man you loved just told you he didn’t trust you. You had never felt so unmoored in your life. Everything about your relationship had just shifted in your view. “I’m gonna go stay in the guest room for the night,” you managed before turning away from him.

That had been the last time you saw him before he became a wanted man and you were kidnapped by McGrath. What you wouldn’t give to go back to that night and talk it all out instead of allowing hurt feelings to run the conversation. Now you could be killed before you got the chance to fix things.

You had faith in your husband’s abilities but McGrath held you and Marcus at gunpoint, blocking Mike’s view of himself.

“What you don’t know is one of ‘em can’t die.”

What the hell? Since when did one of you become immortal? What the hell was he doing? You missed his and Marcus’ exchange because you were so confused by the first statement, only jolted out of your thinking by the gun going off. Mike had shot Marcus to get him down and then shot McGrath. It was over, and Mike was running to you.

“I trust you, and I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you before,” were the first words out of his mouth. He cut your restraints, pulling you into his embrace.

Too high off the adrenaline of the past day, you couldn’t have a real conversation about it with him so you let him know it was okay with a joke. “Bet you’ll never doubt my intuition again.”

He laughed and went to say something when you both heard Judy over the comms saying she’d found Armando. He looked at you in a panic, clearly not wanting to leave you but needing to get to Armando. “Go, I’ll check over Marcus and get us back to the team.” He didn’t waste another second, running to find his son.

It was later when you were escorted to an ambulance that you saw him again, rushing to get to you.

“Everything alright?”

The medic looked at you for permission to speak. “It’s okay he’s my husband.”

The medic nodded, answering his question with, “Its just a precaution sir. We just want to make sure there’s no hidden wounds that are being masked by the adrenaline.”

You were helped onto the back of the ambulance and the medic began her examination, checking your head for wounds and asking if you were hit at any point, blacked out or fell into something hard. You answered in the negative, stating you were pushed around a bit but not hit or thrown into anything. Any falling was the result of trying not to get hit by a bullet or the chopped that crashed. When it seemed she was about done with her examination you spoke up.

“Is it possible to do an ultrasound?”

“Ultrasound?” “Of course.” Mike and the medic spoke at the same time.

You reached out to grab Mike’s hand, tears in your eyes. “Yeah, an ultrasound.” Mike looked dumbfounded and you continued to look at him even as you spoke to the medic, “My OB said I was about nine weeks.”

The medic noted the information and readied the ultrasound. Before long the sound of your baby’s heartbeat filled the air and the fear you’d been holding back burst through you in the form of relief. Uncontrollable sobs wracked your body knowing you had managed to keep your baby safe. Mike held you closely, trying to calm your breathing.

You knew the two of you had some tough conversations in your future but right now all that mattered was that your little family was safe.