#it's RUBBISH i tells ya!

[jrueships]

☹️ *hands on hips <:[ *

[redstarwriting]

the clash | v. ever fallen in love

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 3.1k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, mentions of death, demonic names, mentions of injuries, giving and receiving stitches, geniuses being dumbasses

a/n: these keep getting longer LMAO which is wild too bc i literally had an idea to make this chapter even longer, but i had to end up splitting it up. thank you to everyone who’s reading the series, i appreciate you all more than you will ever know. please enjoy this chapter, the next should be out either late tonight or tomorrow :)

previous chapter: iv. london calling

now reading: v. ever fallen in love

next chapter: vi. (with someone you shouldn’t’ve)

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It’s been a few months since you’ve become a part of Spider Society, and much to everyone’s disappointment, you and Hobie still hate each other. Even though on any given day the two of you will be seen around each other, you’re always arguing. Yelling. There have been multiple times where the two of you almost fought, but someone always breaks it up before it gets to that point. “Ready to go, Hobie?” Gwen asks, and he scoffs. “Can’t believe ‘m bein’ forced to go to that dickhead’s world by you of all people,” he grumbles, and she rolls her eyes. “C’mon man, we all know that you’ve both been way more irritable towards everyone because you haven’t seen each other in what? Like two days?”

“I’ll be a lot worse when I see them, I can promise ya that, mate,” he snaps and Miles shakes his head. “Yeah, sure. Whatever, Hobie,” he says as Gwen pulls up the portal to your world. “Are you excited to see them? I haven’t seen you two apart for this long ever, you’re always together,” Pavitr says, side-eying Hobie. He keeps trying to tell Gwen and Miles the two of you only hate each other because you have strong feelings for one another and don’t know how to face them.

“I’m telling you, they’re obsessed with each other,” Pavitr says as he, Gwen, and Miles sit in his home, sipping some chai. “Obsessed with wanting to kill each other maybe, but that’s about it,” Miles says, and Pavitr groans. “No! You’ve got it all wrong! Neither of them knows how to express their feelings and that’s the only reason they act the way they do!” he tries to convince them, but Gwen and Miles just glance at each other. “I don’t know, Pav,” Gwen says. “I picked up on the romantic tension between the two of you immediately, why are you doubting my genius social cue reading now?”

“You need to stop being such a romantic, Pav. The two of them would rather eat glass than be romantically involved in any way,” Gwen responded, but Pavitr was not convinced.

He still isn’t. Hobie laughs. “Excited? You must be mental to think I’d be chuffed to see them,” he responds, and Pavitr sighs. One day. One day he will get Hobie to admit he cares for you.

Gwen was honestly a little nervous for this little meet-up. The two of you had a really bad fight recently, and trying to get the two of you back to talking level seems a little ambitious.

“You what?” he yelled, causing you to roll your eyes. “I’m being mentored by Miguel.” Hobie stares at you, not saying anything, with his mouth slightly open before he shakes his head. He’s very angry, but you simply don’t care. “He’s helping me, Hobie. We both have the venomous bite thing, so he’s trying to help me out with it and helping me adjust to–”

“Don’t you dare say adjust to fuckin’ Spider Society like I ain’t been here the whole time.”

“You never necessarily helped, Hobie. Unless you count constantly insulting me and–”

“Nah, don’t gimme that fuckin’ rubbish, (Y/n),” he growls, and you cross your arms. “Why are you so mad about it anyway?” He laughs. “Why am I mad? Seriously?! You’re the right fuckin’ hand of the pitch and toss!”

“The what?” you ask and he groans. “The fuckin’ boss, (Y/n)! The man!”

“So what, Hobart?! In case you forgot you’re a part of this society, you listen to Miguel too!”

“I fuckin’ don’t!”

“You fucking do!” By this point, you’d pulled attention from several other spiders, not only because of the yelling but because their senses were going off. The two of you were too focused on each other to realize they were all ready to pounce on the two of you. “Fuckin’ piss off before I do somethin’ we both regret,” he growls, and you laugh. “Make me.”

The two of you were separated after that and haven’t talked to each other since. Granted, it’s only been two days, but that is long for the two of you, honestly. And it’s been making everyone a target of Hobie’s rude remarks and your cynicism. The two of you need to talk because clearly, not talking just makes the two of you feel worse.

Even though Hobie’s acting like this is the worst thing his friends could possibly do to him, he does kind of sort of miss you. Which he hates. It’s been two days and he’s already missing you? Disgusting. He can’t wait to yell at you about it. He’s able to keep his cool and pretend like he really doesn’t want to go, but in reality, he’s so anxious to see you. “Alright, come on,” Gwen says, motioning for Hobie to enter the portal. He glances around at them. “Makin’ me go first?”

“Can’t have you run off at the last minute,” Gwen says and he sighs. “Whatever,” he says, walking a little too fast into the portal. He only stops when he’s enveloped in a familiar darkness. He feels something brush up against his leg, and he lets go of a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. “Good seein’ ya, Shadow,” he says, bending down to give your cat some attention. Shadow headbutts him and he scratches between his ears. Your cat loves Hobie, much to your disdain.

“You hurt him, I kill you,” you said to him the second time he was at your place. He picked up Shadow while you were in your room, and when you came out and saw him holding your baby, you were ready to fight. But you were ready to fight him at any given moment anyways. “I won’t hurt him. He’s much cooler than his owner anyways,” Hobie says, petting his head. You roll your eyes. “Yeah well– wait is he purring?” you say, and Hobie smirks at you. “Looks like he likes me better than his owner too.”

“Shut the fuck up. Shadow!” you call your cat, your voice going from a tone that screams ‘I hate you’ to one that screams ‘I love you.’ Of course, Shadow’s ears perk up and he hops out of Hobie’s arms and right over to yours. You stick your tongue out at Hobie, who rolls his eyes and looks away to cover up the dusting of a smile on his face. “What are you, 12?” he asks, and you scoff. “Can I hold Shadow?” Pavitr asks, and you hand him to him without a second thought. But no matter who you passed him to, he’d either end up in yours or Hobie’s lap.

He's so lost in the memory that he doesn’t even sense you approaching. “So, you decided to actually show up. I’m surprised,” he hears your voice and looks up at you. “Wasn’t exactly by choice, love. If I had it my way, I’d never be in this hellhole again,” he retorts, and you just shake your head and say nothing. That’s strange. You thought for sure you would mention something about him being forced to do something even though he always does what he wants. “What? Have you lost your spitfire after only two days of not talkin’ to me?” he asks, standing. You sigh. “I just… I don’t have the energy to fight today, Hobie. Okay?”

Don’t have the energy? You literally always have the energy to fight with him. Before he can say anything else, Pavitr comes through the portal.

“(Y/n)! How have you been?” he asks, excitedly, hugging you. Hobie doesn’t like that. But what he doesn’t like even more is the slight look of pain that spreads across your face for a split second. He observes silently as you play it off like nothing happened, and Pavitr is none the wiser to it. Gwen and Miles enter shortly after, and the dynamic you all had before yours and Hobie’s attempted murder of each other returns. Except for the constant bickering between you and Hobie. Instead, it’s just a lot of silent glaring, and subtle reactions. “Okay, hold on. What the hell is this?” Miles asks, and you both look at him. “What?” you say at the same time, ending in a side eye to each other. “That! That right there, why aren’t you two threatening to tear each other’s heads off because you said the same thing?” Miles asks, and Hobie shrugs. “I got nothin’ to say to them.”

“Ditto,” you say, and the three of them look at you two like your heads just got cut off. “Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m havin’ a laugh, mate?” Hobie snaps at Miles and he puts his hands up in surrender. “This… is odd. I can’t recall the last time it was quiet between you two.”

“Because it never was. They always went for each other’s throats like their own lives depended on it,” Pavitr says to Gwen, and you clear your throat. “We’re right here, you know,” you say with a forced grin. “Yeah, care to save the talkin’ bout us til we aren’t around?” Hobie grumbles and the three glance at each other before nodding. “Sorry, you two…” Gwen says, and you shrug. “It’s whatever. Dealt with worse,” you say, and Hobie nods. He glances over at you again. How is no one else noticing how weird you’re acting? Is he the only one who pays attention to you or some shit?

This isn’t the first time he’s picked up on your odd behaviors. Within the time he knew you, he was able to notice your behaviors unlike anyone else.

He wasn’t necessarily looking for you. He’d never go out of his way to look for you in a million years, yet here he was. In your world because you didn’t show up at the allotted time everyone was gonna meet up at in his world. He webbed up to the tallest building, the Ember Stake Building. It resembled that of a wooden stake, except all black and metal instead of wood. Sure enough, you were there. “You’re late.”

You turn and look at him, but don’t say anything. Instead, you just turn away. He frowns. “What’s that all about, then?” he asks, plopping next to you. You sigh. “I think I’m just gonna stay here tonight.”

“What? Why? Because you’re too borin’ to do anythin’ fun? Gotta work late tonight?”

“No. Personal reasons,” you say and he cocks his head to the side. “Such as?”

“Fuck off, Hobie. I’m not telling you.”

“Yes, you are. What’s goin’ on in that empty head of yours?” he asks and you give him an unamused look. “It’s the anniversary of my Uncle Belial’s death,” you mumble. He frowns. “Ah. I see.”

“...Yeah.” The two of you sit in silence, the wind the only noise happening before he sighs. “Well then, you’re definitely comin’ tonight.” He stands. You look at him. “I just said-”

“And I don’t give a shit. Come on, your friends are waitin’ for you. Besides, they can help ya get your mind off of it. Chop-chop.” You ended up going because you were forced to. But you did have a good time. Hobie was right, it helped you get your mind off of things. And maybe you were reading into it, but he seemed just a tad bit nicer to you that night than normal.

And you could tell his. 

“And what the hell is your problem today?” you appear behind Hobie who is angrily restringing his guitar in his common room at Spider Society. “Well now you’re a part of it,” he responds. You sit on the floor across from him. “As much as I’m happy just my presence can reduce you to a massive asshole, I don’t think I’m the only reason this time.”

“How could you even tell?”

You shrug. “You busy your mind and hands when you’ve got something on your mind,” you say, and he looks at you. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Didn’t realize you were obsessed with me.”

“You wish,” you say. He sighs. “New group of fascist assholes showed up today,” he begrudgingly opens up and you nod. “Told you so.” He glares at you. “Had to say it,” you say, “But you’ll beat them. You always do.” He glances at you. “And if you can’t, I’ll just take care of it for you.” He laughs, unamused. “I’d like to see you try.”

He’s unsure why so many memories are flooding back to him at this moment in time. The answer is that he’s obsessed with you and Pavitr is right, but we don’t need to talk about that until he realizes it for himself. Maybe not seeing you has made him think about you more for some reason. He shakes his head, rejoining the conversation. Everything goes surprisingly well for the rest of the time you all are together. Unfortunately, Gwen gets a notice that something is happening in her world, and she has to go. Miles follows, and Pavitr is torn between going with them or staying with the two of you to make sure no one gets murdered. Or to see some romantic shit.

“We been behavin’, haven’t we?” Hobie says, a bit relieved they were leaving so he could find out what was up with you. You were close with the others, but even they’ve commented on you two only opening up with each other. “You actually have… and maybe it’d be good to leave them alone. Talk out whatever issues they’re having,” Miles says to Pavitr and Gwen, who look at each other but reluctantly agree. Miles and Pav rush into Gwen’s world before her. “I swear if you two kill each other I’m going to kill both of you,” Gwen says, walking backward into the portal to her world and pointing at the two of you. “We won’t.”

“Probably,” Hobie finishes, and Gwen rolls her eyes before disappearing. There’s a silent tension between the two of you before he speaks up. “What happened?”

“I don’t know what you’re–”

“Don’t play dumb with me, now. What happened?” he pushes, and you frown at him. Shadow leaps up into your lap and nuzzles you. You sigh and gently pet him. Hobie stays silent, watching and waiting. “Just… bad day,” you mumble. “Bad day, how?”

“Bad spider day.” He hums. “That why you looked like Pav stabbed ya after that hug?” You look at him, surprised. “You saw that?”

“Course I did. ‘m not fuckin’ daft,” he responds, and you look at Shadow. “Yeah… it’s nothing, though. Just a few scratches, typical Spider-Person shit,” you say, and he nods. “Let me see, then.”

“What?”

“Let me see.”

“Why?”

“Cause you’re lyin’,” he shrugs, and you glare at him. “Have I told you I hated you?”

“Not recently, but yeah.” You glare at him but sigh. “Fuck you, Hobie,” you mumble, but shrug off your oversized cardigan. His eyes widen as he sees deep lacerations and bruises spread across your shoulder and onto your back. He stands up and approaches you without even realizing it. You watch him as he studies your injuries. “Who did this?” His voice sounds darker than you’ve ever heard it. You look away from him. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” he responds immediately. You turn your head to look at him again, only to have him staring directly into your eyes. “Prowler,” you mumble, and he frowns. “The worst of the worst in your world,” he whispers to himself, recalling a conversation the two of you had months ago. He glances around. “Where’s your first aid kit?” he asks, and you look at him with a side-eye. “Why?”

“Cause I wanna get high off the painkillers in it, why do you think, you dolt?” he snaps, and you point to your bathroom. “Under the sink.” He gets up and walks into your bathroom, grabs the first aid kit, and walks back out to you on your couch. “Turn round and move a bit,” he says, and you do. He sits behind you, starting to clean and stitch to your injuries up. You wince slightly and he frowns. “Why haven’t you done this yet?”

“I can’t reach back there myself.”

“Then ask someone else to do it.”

“I don’t have anyone to ask anymore.”

“Yes, you do,” he says without missing a beat. You turn your head to say something snarky to him, but he looks at you at the same time. Your faces are closer than the two of you expected, causing you both to quickly look away. You can feel your face burning, and you’re grateful the injuries are mainly on your back and not close to your heart because you don’t want to hear his comments about how fast it’s beating. On an equal note, Hobie’s happy you aren’t looking at him because he has his jaw clenched and swallows hard. His heart is beating just as fast, but he pretends like it’s nothing, just like you. He finishes the stitches, placing bandages over top of them. “Done,” he says, and you mutter a quick ‘thank you’ as he tosses the first aid kit onto your coffee table. “Should be healed by tomorrow,” you mumble, and he nods. “When did that happen?”

“A few hours before you all got here,” you admit, and he frowns. “And you were just gonna pretend nothing happened?”

“Yes. I told you earlier, I’m too tired to deal with any bullshit today, okay?” you confess, and he frowns.

“He get ya that good cause you’re tired?”

“I guess.”

“When’s the last time you slept?”

“Dunno.”

“Stop lyin’ love,” he says, and the nickname you hate oh so much sounds just a little sweeter to you than it should. “Couple days ago.”

“You haven’t slept in two days?” You shake your head, and he sighs. “Go the fuck to sleep. Now.”

“But–”

“Go,” he demands, pointing to your bedroom. You groan, “You’re so fucking annoying,” you mumble, getting up and dragging yourself to your room. “Yeah, yeah whatever,” he says, following you. You flop onto your bed as he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Come to tuck me in?”

“You wish,” he watches as Shadow hops up onto your bed, curling up against you. You immediately put your hand on him and pet him. Hobie frowns as he feels a pang of annoyance toward your cat. “Gonna stand there and watch me sleep or something?” your voice pulls him out of his ridiculous thoughts, and he scoffs. “Gonna stand here and make sure you don’t try to get up as soon as I go,” he says, and you sigh. “Fine,” you mutter, rolling away from him. He stands there until he’s sure you’re asleep. He glances at Shadow, who is still awake and staring at him. He puts his finger to his lips to say “shh” as he pulls his mask over his head.

He and the Prowler of this world need to have a bit of a chat.

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Strings And Knots

Draco Malfoy x fem!reader

Summary: Reader makes a bracelet for Draco, and, surprisingly to her, it lasts throughout all their years of Hogwarts.

Warnings: Mention of death, war, murder, suffocation, air pollution, destruction, emotional/physical damage, but overall fluff! (Until the end it’s kinda sad but it ends quite well- just a sad mood.)

Note: I know I did the whole Divination thing wrong since they do it for every month but that’s okay. And I really love this one it’s gotta be in top five favorites! Maybe top three!

Masterlist

Request Requirements

One: The Making

Year: First

Her fingers worked carefully on the thread, the rough texture feeling slightly scratchy against her fingertips. Her hands were red and almost dry, twisting them together before pulling the knot up, securing it as it joined the design she was creating.

She wanted it to be perfect, despite her just learning about a week ago, but each day she practiced a bit and she could tell she was slowly improving.

She grumbled when the strings tangled together and she once again separated the colors. She could use magic, her wand sitting on her bed on top of her Charms and Potions book, but she made it her personal mission not to use the wand, for she wanted it to be made by her very hands, that way the finishing product would be much more meaningful; to her and to him.

Her fingers burned and the tips turned red as she tied the finishing knot at the bottom, taking a pair of scissors afterward and snipping the axis thread, the extra string flying off the once was connected bracelet and landing on her robes. This time she did use the wand, pointing them at the strands and made them disappear with a flick of the tip.

-

“Good, you’re here, look what Potter is doing, hanging around that giant again; honestly, how could you tolerate-what are you doing?”

She was half listening, her fingers focusing on tying the bracelet she made around Draco’s wrist. He made a face she didn’t see, taking his arm to his eyes once she was finished.

“What’s this rubbish?” He snarled, eyes looking disgustingly at the thread on his wrist. The girl rolled her eyes, being used to his on-the-daily-attitude.

“It’s not rubbish,” she protested. “It’s a bracelet. A friendship bracelet to be exact.”

Draco still didn’t wipe the disturbed look off his face, looking down at the thread with uncertainty.

“Look, I have one too; just switched colors.” She said, showing her own by pulling up her robe sleeve, hoping to assure him that out of the two of them he wasn’t the only one wearing a bracelet.

He looked at hers, something in his eyes that she couldn’t read. “Well? What does it mean?” He asked, still looking at the strands on his arm.

The girl shrugged even though the meaning of them meant everything to her. “It represents friendship. Ya ever heard of it?” She asked, a teasing glint in her eyes as she looked at him.

He scowled. “Of course I’ve heard of friendship. We are friends, aren’t we?”

She smiled. “Yeah, why do you think I made it for you?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Well I will admit I like being friends with you but I’m not sure about walking around with this on my wrist.”

The girl looked down at the bracelet she made herself, the strands not seeming so exciting and meaningful anymore, they seemed to be mocking her now, screaming at her that Draco wouldn’t want to wear some silly bracelet.

“Right…” She whispered, chest squeezing. Draco scoffed, leaning over and picking up her chin with his index finger. She looked at him, eyes uncertain and anxious.

“Doesn’t mean I won’t wear it- at least it matches my robes.” He stated, looking down at the green thread and then at the knitted badge of Slytherin on his chest, mouth twitching but she could tell it was his form of smiling. Her lips stretched wide, eyes sparkling. This time his grin broke, but it was small, nice and toothless.

Two: The Sighting

Year: Second

“Snape assigned another essay, I can’t believe it.” She complained with a light scowl in her voice, plopping her books down on the table beside the fireplace, sitting down on the emerald green couch, the surface silky beneath the skin of her hands. Draco grumbled in agreement to her protests, eyes scanning the paper of the Daily Prophet. She always thought it was interesting, him being so young and reading all those kind of grown up things about the Ministry. But it came with an upside: she could always get updates from him about what was currently going on in the Wizarding world. She leaned forward, finger tapping his knee lightly.

“Anything good today?” She asked, neck craning to meet his face behind the stack of papers, moving pictures all around the pages. He shook his head, folding the Prophet up carefully before throwing it onto the table, right next to her textbooks.

“No,” He replied. “And I bet there is, just wait till my father tells me. And that Chamber, he never tells me anything these days.”

It was her turn to agree with a complaint between the two of them.

“Well, there’s nothing we can do, right?” She tried to assure, but Draco wasn’t one for the ‘look on the bright side’ pep talk. She always knew that, but what she also knew was that it was worth a try.

“I wish there was something I could do.” Draco snarled, lips twitching irritably. She smiled lightly, getting off the couch and sitting the floor, pulling her parchment out with a quill and ink bottle.

“How ‘bout that essay, mm?” She hummed, voice smooth and he nodded, still looking like his head wasn’t with her. She watched him as he looked at of the window for a moment, the tallest one in the Common Room, the evening sun providing a warm glow to the space. His hand went to his head, lightly scratching his ear, when she then noticed the worn out thread on his wrist, green and slightly dirty, displaying its age. She smiled. “You’re wearing it.” She noted, and watched as his head snapped to her, eyes moving from the knotted strings to her face.

“Well we are friends, aren’t we?” He replied like it was a silly observation, shrugging half-heartedly but something brewed in her chest as he joined her, getting his things out for the essay they were about to write. It was something her young self wouldn’t be able to recognize, but it was similar to when her mother smiled at her in the morning, or how her father kissed her hair before leaving for work.

Her older self would know, oh yes, and that older mature young lady would call it love.

Three: The Teasing

Year: Third

“No.” Draco’s voice burst out as she hovered a very reactive ingredient over the cauldron, the potion brewing inside just the right temperature for him to add the alligator heart, dropping a few chunks inside. She grimaced in disgust.

“I was joking.” She then insisted.

“No you weren’t.” He instantly said, looking at her as a way to say “try me”.

She snorted, cutting up an herb he gave her. “I wasn’t actually gonna do it.” She tried to convince, yet he wouldn’t take her excuses, shaking his head.

“Yes you would; then we would end up like Seamus.” Draco responded and she chuckled, looking down at the herbs again so she failed to notice the soft smile on his lips.

“Got a friend, Malfoy? Who’s the lucky person?” Pansy’s voice suddenly broke out, and, the two Slytherins turning to her, saw her long skinny finger pointing at Draco’s wrist, a teasing glint on her face. Draco scowled at her, shooting her daggers with his grey eyes.

“Shut up Parkinson.” He spat, and she shut right up, cheeks flushing. “Not like you have any friends, bet you wish you did, don’t you?”

Pansy’s eyes glossed over but neither of them seemed to take care to it, yet the girl felt a small, very small I tell you, peck of empathy.

Pansy dismissed herself from the classroom right then, crying her eyes out.

The girl turned to Draco. “You didn’t have to be so harsh, ya know.” She whispered. She saw him look at her.

“Yeah I did. Surprised she didn’t say anything about yours.” He said softly, nudging her wrist that had the thread on it.

The girl scoffed quietly. “I’m a girl, it’s normal for us to have silly jewelry on.”

Draco’s pale eyebrow shot up. “‘Silly jewelry’?” He quoted. “So our friendship is silly now?”

The girl felt a pinch of regret hit her. She quickly shook her head. “No, I didn’t mean it like that.”

He still had an absence of a frown on his lips, but he believed the reassurance that she provided when she gave him a kind apologetic smile.

“Good.” She heard him mutter, most likely for her to not hear, but she thanked Merlin her ears picked up on it.

Four: The Admiring

Year: Forth

The Divination book was open in front of her, propped up against her bag that was lazily thrown on the table moments prior. The usual presence of Draco wasn’t met, since she was keeping herself busy while he attended Quidditch practice. The sun was still shining, though it was evening and after supper, through the green see-through curtains.

The Professor wanted them to write predictions on how their future would go, and all she came up with was that she would “experience a heart warming moment” and that “something she dearly loved would break”.

Her eyebrows were furrowed tightly, and just when she about decided to start making them up, the Common Room entrance opened, a certain platinum blonde coming into view, broomstick hung over his shoulder. His face was twisted with exhaustion, yet once his eyes met hers she saw a different expression in his eyes, relief perhaps, for she often didn’t know how to read his eyes, despite them being friends for four years.

He blooped down across from her, next to her bag so he was still in sight. His hand was now dug into his hair, eyes fluttering but he still was able to look at her. She stared longer than she should’ve, but the sight was too warming to her chest, watching his tired eyes gaze upon hers with such softness no one would ever be able to see but her.

She had her right arm on the table, flipping through the pages of the book with her other hand.

“Divination?” Draco asked, peering over at the work she had done. She nodded, and at that moment she yawn came over her.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m about to start making it up at this point.”

Draco chuckled, reaching up and lazily rubbing his eye. “Agreed; kinda stupid really.”

She nodded once again, starting to get too tired to talk. She scanned the page that was open in front of her, spotting the sentence “you will witness a break up between two strangers” and thought that was good enough. The other predictions spoke to her but this one didn’t seem to do such, for she was at that point picking random ones out to write down. She was focused on writing, so such so that she didn’t notice Draco lay his arm down, close to her hand but the skin wasn’t close enough to brush. She also didn’t notice his grey eyes moving from his wrist to hers, the matching thread being admired scanned with his eyes.

She looked up them, feeling his finger tips brush her robe sleeve, and she met his eyes.

“What are you looking at?” She asked, eyebrows furrowing only to curve even deeper than before when he quickly responded, a little too quickly.

“Nothing.” He said shortly, taking his arm back. She held a confused expression but didn’t pry on the subject.

“Can we go to bed now?” He asked abruptly, trying to change the topic of conversation. She hummed, packing up her now finished work and putting it in her bag. She stood up, about to grab the bag when Draco beat her to it, his pale hand gripping the strap.

“Thanks.” She muttered, suddenly feeling a small flush appear over her cheeks.

“For what?” He asked, confused, like he didn’t know he just did a kind deed.

She scoffed at how oblivious he was. “For carrying my bag. You don’t have to do that.”

It was his turn to scoff, lips twitching in slight annoyance. “Well we are friends, aren’t we?”

Five: The Breaking

Year: Fifth

The Hogwarts Express seemed to vibrate underneath her, the engine coming to life as it was ready to ride on. Everyone was excited for the upcoming year, happiness flooding their features and chests.

She, however, grew worried when she didn’t have the usual company of her friend, not having seeing him yet. She didn’t spot him in the platform or while she was walking along the hallways of the train, going to their usual compartment. She was thinking he went with his other friends, perhaps he wanted to catch up with them.

But she couldn’t help but feel a little hurt, since he always at least met her before each year, in the same seats on the same train in the same compartment. Why was it different this year?

She looked out the window, miraculously thinking maybe he was running along the train’s side, yelling for it to stop so he could catch up. But of course that wouldn’t happen since the boy was always on time, so he must be on the train, just not with her.

The compartment door opened abruptly, causing her head to snap in the direction of the noise. Draco stood there, in a black suit, black tie, and black shoes. He strolled over to the seat and sat across from her, leaning his hands on the table in front of him. This all happened just in time as the train started churning, wheels turning and gaining speed as it headed off to the school.

“Where have you been?” She asked, unable to hide the worry in her voice.

“I was looking for something.” He answered simply, looking a little irritated.

“For what, exactly?” She asked, getting annoyed as well, the irritation brewing in her chest as he once again left her with no answers.

“I was looking for this.” He said sharply. He had slapped something on the table for her to see, the green thread immediately recognizable between his fingers. It was the same as it has always been, dirty as it went through the years but the knots stayed true. The only thing was that the bottom was broken, the knot becoming undone.

“Can’t wear it if it’s broken, right?”

She was half listening, still gazing at the strings that were on the table. She grabbed it gently between her fingers, caressing it like a baby and analyzed the damage.

“It fell off on my way here.” He explained, kind of annoyed that it did such thing at such an inconvenient time.

“I can fix it.” She said quietly, surprised he still possessed it. “I just can’t believe you still have it.”

“What, you don’t have yours?” He asked, looking a little hurt beneath the annoyance that she’s so surprised at that occurrence.

“Of course I do,” she started, and missed his eyes going to her arm to see if it was there, and she was telling the truth. “I just didn’t think you’d-“

Draco groaned, rubbing his head with his hand and looking at the window, grey eyes reflecting the sun’s warmth. “We are friends, aren’t we? Honestly…”

She looked down at the bracelet, the knots worn down and dirty, but the meaning stood true. She didn’t know what it was, but somehow her mind went back to her Forth Year, working on her Divination homework, and writing down “something she dearly loved would break.”

She supposed her made up predictions weren’t made up after all.

Six: The Decision

Year: Sixth

“This is stupid.” Draco’s voice blurted shortly, looking down at the homework in front of him, the essay’s words seeming to combine in his mind, creating an annoying jumble of ink.

“I know, but Slughorn insisted.” She reminded, causing his silver eyes to roll in the back of his head. He quill lazily sat on his hands, twirling it mindlessly out of boredom.

She noticed his robe sleeve rolled up at the action, wrist muscles twitching and moving as his fingers worked the quill.

The bracelet made of thread was not only repaired but still sitting on his wrist as good as ever, the green shining the meaning of it. Just looking at his made the feeling of her own on her skin a lot more noticeable, heart warming at the sight.

“Do you want me to make you a new one?” She asked, and when he turned to her she gestured to the strands that were getting older by the day.

His eyebrows furrowed deeply, displaying large amounts of confusion. “New one? Certainly not.” He replied. “This one’s just fine; don’t know what you’d think that, really.”

She smiled soft but it was unsure. “You sure? Cause I was thinking about making myself a new one.”

Draco scoffed but looked a little frustrated. “Scared of a little dirt?”

“No.” She replied. Draco then nodded towards her wrist.

“Then it stays. Mine’s as old as yours.”

Seven: The Pulling

Year: Seventh

The air was musty, ash seeping the air, suffocating the lungs of beings who breathed it in. Of course no one cared at the moment; the air pollution the last thing on their minds. The living breathing representation of evil was standing in front of them, laughing like what was happening was his dream come true. Because, realistically, it was. Deaths, damage, emotional and physical, destruction, all of it was part of his dream. To end it all and face the boy who lived, and all for what. Just so he can kill the boy who he was trying to murder ever since he was a baby?

It wasn’t that the girl was paying much attention as the living evil spoke, too busy staring at the ground that inc held healthy green grass, grass that her and Draco used to pick at while they complained about classes they had that day. Or any day for that matter. Sometimes his long skinny fingers would dig into her sides, wiggling until he heard the sound of her laughter, something he may never hear again because of the cold voice calling him.

His mother. His father. The living evil.

He stepped forward, ready to leave the cruelty of his peers and the burning stares he just knew where there. His head swam with so many emotions but he didn’t have time to look them through, just focusing on walking to the other side, the other side where evil doings were being performed. The other side that he didn’t have a choice but to be on.

He was gonna go, he really was, despite the soft tug he felt on his wrist, and, looking down, saw her index finger hooked underneath the thread of his bracelet as she pulled, the knots begging him to stay along with the maker of them. He met her eyes despite the emotions crashing his rib cage, threatening to get to his heart, but he held the gaze all the same.

“Stay.” She said softly, eyes swirling, knowing all those years with him weren’t for nothing. She didn’t last all those times with him as a child or teenager just for him to walk away.

“Why.” He muttered back, voice dry as ever so much so that he felt like his throat was filled with sand and he was speaking through the tiny rocks. She answered with a small smile, something so small making him plant his feet on the ground, making him stay away didn’t the living evil on the other side….making him have a choice.

“Well, we are friends, aren’t we?”

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

@angstflayer-council 24 hour writing challenge!

prompt: forest | word count: 1,233 | rated: G

The town of Hawkins is laid out weird.

The richest neighborhoods built with maybe a couple hundred yards of forest between them and the Forest Hills trailer park.

“I don’t want to see that rubbish out my window.” Steve’s mother would say as she closed all the blinds at the back of the house come winter. Something beyond the bare trees that Steve could never see, and she didn't want to.

“You be careful in those woods now, Eddie. Don’t wanna see ya gettin’ hurt.” Wayne would warn. Never telling him to stay out, just a “Be careful.” since he knew Eddie would go no matter what.

That couple hundred yards of forest was Steve’s favorite place to go; it was Eddie’s favorite place to go.

At the halfway point between their homes, they made a place all their own. The place they met.

Whenever Steve felt alone, he would go to their spot.

Whenever Eddie felt like a burden, he would go to their spot.

Steve wouldn’t be alone, and Eddie could never be a burden to his friend.

They would play there together in the spring when Eddie would visit for Easter, all summer long when Steve was on break from school (Eddie too, visiting his Uncle for the season). During the short extra hours of Thanksgiving before they would have to go back for dinner. Every bright, freezing day of winter break.

Every day was some sort of adventure, either one that Eddie’s uncle had read to him about from those Ring Lord books he loved, or an adventure all his own! Eddie was always telling some sort of story.

The short hills and valleys became foxholes, sticks and branches were swords and bows, giant spoons to stir a potion of mud and bugs, the walls of a fort just for them.

“Hear ye, Hear ye! Beloved denizens of Harringson county, Fort Steddie is now complete!” Eddie declared loudly, putting the last leafy branch onto the lopsided roof. It was the summer after Eddie officially moved to Hawkins. They were 11.

“Steddie?”  

Eddie jumps down from the tree he’d latched onto to get up to the roof and pushes the short curls he’s managed to grow back since last year off his forehead. “Yeah, like Steve and Eddie mushed together. Duh.”

“Not..Eddeve? Why not just call it Fort Harringson?”

“All options were considered, Stevie,” Eddie assures, holding one palm up, his other hand resting behind him on his lower back. “Steddie had a better ring to it.”

“You have a better ring to it.” Steve teases, running off immediately, Eddie not far behind with his favorite branch-turned-sword.

A scant two years later, Steve and Eddie share their first kiss under the roof of Fort Steddie, in the heart of Harringson County.

Two more finds them nearly coming to blows. 

Eddie embarrassed Steve. On the very first day of High School. Steve doesn’t even fucking remember what it was that Eddie did now, the actual offence lost to time.

The last time he and Eddie were together in those woods?…Wasn’t.

“It’s high school Eddie, I wanted to–to be cool!”

“Well, I think you’re cool. Doesn’t that count for something?”

Eddie’s hair is longer now, it curls under his ears and Steve still remembers how it had felt between his fingers.

“No! ‘Cause you’re not cool! You’re a nerd!” Steve remembers he regretted those words immediately after they left his mouth. No. He regretted them as they were coming out.

Eddie’s jaw had clenched.

“Eddie–”

He turned on his heel and marched back towards his trailer.

“Fine! Walk away! Just like everyone else in my life!” What was he talking about? His parents weren’t around enough to walk away.

Eddie doesn’t look back. He only pauses to grab his backpack where he’d dropped it against a tree.

After that day, Steve feels alone whenever he enters the woods behind his house.

Every day since then, he’s wanted so badly to tear apart that lopsided little fort in the middle of the forest.

But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t bear to tear down the only place he’d ever had where he didn’t feel alone.

He couldn’t bear to tear down the place of his first kiss with the man he still loves.

For years, Fort Steddie sits empty. 

Steve and Eddie will both deny ever going back, but of course they had. Always missing each other, in heart and in reality.

It was the first place Steve thought of when Dustin barreled into Family Video looking for Eddie in March of ‘86, but he couldn’t get the words out. His mouth denying his brain’s demands to tell them about their spot in the forest.

So he kept quiet, letting the others figure out where else Eddie might be, promising to check there himself as soon as he had a chance.

Luckily though, they had found Eddie. In Reefer Rick’s boathouse of all places. Steve’s first thought when getting threatened with a broken bottle to the throat (after “Oh thank fuck you’re safe.”) was that it was good Eddie hadn’t hidden at their fort, it was too obvious of a spot.

Much later, while walking through the freezing cold upside-down Hawkins, Robin questions the little shelter they come across when almost to Eddie’s trailer.

“Is this Castle Byers?” She asks, sticking her head into the little door.

“No,” Steve and Eddie say at once.

Robin and Nancy both give them a weird look, but Eddie barrels forward, “We shouldn’t be that far now; I built this in the woods outside my trailer when I first moved in with Wayne.”

Eddie jogs forward to reach them, he and Nancy heading up the group now, Robin trailing behind.

Steve gives the fort a wistful look as he passes, then jogs forward as well, further into the fray.

They push on; they plan, they build weapons, Eddie builds a shield. Dustin copies him.

When Steve, Robin, and Nancy head back towards those same woods, the forest’s sure safety replaced in his gut by pure dread, Eddie stops Steve with an unsure “Hey Steve? Make him pay.”.

Steve loses it.

He stomps back the three steps he’d taken, grabs Eddie by the open flaps of his jacket and vest, and kisses him.

It only takes half a second for Eddie to kiss him back; their lips falling into rhythm as if no time had passed at all.

“What did I just tell you, Eddie?” Steve questions the dumbfounded metalhead under his hands, ignoring Robin and Dustin’s wolf-whistles while zipping up the protective layers his dumb of ass, beloved Eddie was about to leave open to the unforgiving world around him.

He can see how red Eddie’s face is, even in this dark hellscape. “What’d yo– You sa–”

“I said.” Steve emphasizes, pulling up the thick plastic zipper of Eddie’s new vest. “Don’t try to be cute, don’t be heroes.” he hooks his fingers into the armholes of the armored clothing, holding Eddie close. “You can’t help the ‘cute’ part, but you can help the second part.”

Eddie continues to stare at him, dumbfounded.

“Keep him safe, Eddie. Keep yourself safe too.” He looks him over once again. “I’ve been alone in those woods for too damn long. I’d like to keep you around once this is over.” he whispers, smirking at the other man.

"I-I will.."

Steve steps back, walking backward toward the woods, toward the Creel house, “It’s not quite Fort Steddie without the ‘Eddie’, you know.” Eddie’s own smirk climbs onto his face despite his attempts to frown it away.

Steve finally turns, walking away with Robin hanging off his side, no doubt berating him about the…all of that that just happened.

Speaking of: “Holy shit Eddie, what the fuck was all that??”

“Language, Henderson.”

i originally posted this as the shorter angsty-er version but i liked the rest of what i wrote too much not to post the whole thing 😅 so if you saw the first version, i hope you like the additions lmao

[judesmoonbeauty]

2024 Villain's Festival - Team Villain's Story ♛

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do NOT post my translations elsewhere. Also, feel free to ignore my random commentary.

Translation notes are marked with *** Alternate translation is marked with///

The condition for receiving the entire bonus from Her Majesty, is to steal Kate’s heart.

When the battle begins, three shadows with villainous expressions appear in Crown Castle.

Alfons: Such rowdy party. Let’s enjoy it to the fullest!

Roger: If I collect the full bonus, I can use it toward research and alcohol expenses. I’ll have to go all in.

Alfons & Roger: Ah! 

Alfons: Oh, Roger. What a coincidence to run into you here, please move aside.

Roger: I've got business up ahead, too. You get out of my way.

Jude: Don’t block the way. Your both huge and your in the way.

Jude: Oh?

Jude: What do ya guys have there? 

Roger: A sack.

Alfons: Does it look like anything other than a rope?

Jude: So, you'll bag her, tie her up and kidnap her....

Alfons & Roger: Please don't ask if you already know.

Alfons: You're so evil, Jude, to immediately notice what we're trying to do, aren't you?

Jude: Thanks.

Alfons: This game is about capturing Kate’s heart.

Alfons: In short, the winner is the one who takes the necklace that Kate has!

Alfons: In that case, any means are fine.

Jude: These guys are bastards.

Roger: I think you were the one who was going to kidnap Kate, weren't you?

Jude: You'll know it when you see it.

Roger: That's surprising. I thought you'd just say it's rubbish and not get involved.

Jude: You know the rules, you just take the woman’s necklace and the money rolls in.

Jude: It's rags to riches business in terms of cost-effectiveness.

Roger: You're pretty much a bastard yourself. Well, I guess fighting the good fight doesn't suit us.

Alfons: Let's fight fair and square until there's only one left standing!

Alfons: That's what I was thinking until just now, but when I thought about it, aren’t we at a disadvantage?

Roger & Jude: Disadvantage?

Alfons: Each of us cursed ones has our own special abilities….

Alfons: Isn’t our self-righteous king William, a bit of a cheat?

Roger: The "do as I say" is definitely a cheat.

Roger: If he uses that, it's game over in an instant.

Jude: It's hard to tell what he’s thinking. It’s really creepy.

Alfons: Therefore. The clever Alphonse came up with an idea.

Alfons: Why don't the three of us join forces?

Alfons: It's what we call a joint front.

Roger: Certainly, the three of us working together would be more efficient than working alone.

Roger: Fine, I'm in.

Alfons: You are indeed an efficiency-oriented muscle man. How about you, Jude?

Jude: Yeah. I'm in. “While we're on the same side.”

Roger: Wow, I'm surprised you agreed so readily. I wonder what's going through your mind.

Jude: How dare the treacherous cursed man put himself on a pedestal.

Alfons: Yes, yes, now that we have formed a joint front, let's get along.

Alfons: So, the most wicked team is now complete.

Alfons: Let's go and kidnap Kate quickly!

Harrison: Kate, you are being targeted from all sides.

Harrison: But we'll protect you.

Liam: Yeah, all we want to see is your  smile, Kate.

Ellis: Kate, leave it to us.

Kate: Thank you, Harrison, Liam and Ellis. 

Kate: Behind you!

Harrison: When did you guys!

Alfons: “Kate, is invisible to you.”

Harrison: …….

Jude: Ellis, you're not getting enough sleep. Why don’t you sleep a little. 

Liam: Jude….ah.

Liam: Harry, Ellis! Damn it, disappear.

Roger: Liam. Your abilities are not the best match for mine. 

Roger: Even when you disappear, my ears are still picking up your heartbeat. …..Right here?

Liam: Oh! 

Jude: You should sleep too.

Roger: Ok, everyone’s sound asleep like good boys.

Alfons: Normally, we don't get along well with each other, but when it comes to deviousness, we are united, which is a strange thing.

Roger: Because bad people can understand how bad people think.

Jude: If we have time for idle chit-chat,  then let’s get out of here before the nobles launch a surprise attack.

Alfons: Yes, yes. Well, Kate, please let us kidnap you.

Kate: What? Oh, hey! 

Jude: You'd be smarter to stay quiet, princess.

Jude: I hope you locked the door properly.

Alfons: Yes, of course.

Alfons: This is the perfect guest room. Whatever happens here, only the four of us will know the truth.

Alfons: A secret only for us. Hehe, I'm so excited, Kate.

Roger: Sorry to tie you to the chair, missy. It would have been troublesome if you'd escaped again.

Kate: So the three of you formed a joint front.

Kate: But still, of all people, these three?

Alfons: What do you mean?

Kate: No, nothing. 

Roger: You're trying to say that three people without a shred of conscience got together.

Alfons: I'm honored that you appreciate my reputation for lack of conscience.

Alfons: Now, as planned, Kate belongs to one of the three of us.

Alfons: Let's start the finals here.

Jude: Oh?

Jude: Why are you trying to touch the nape of someone's neck, you talking piece of shit?

Alfons: Jude, you're the one who tried to poke me in the forehead with your finger.

Roger: I thought it was funny how easily you agreed to a joint front.

Roger: Your plan is to make it look like a joint front so that you could outflank us at the end, right?

Jude: It's a matter of course. It is a basic business practice to decide whether to use or not to use a contract based on who you are signing it with.

Jude: That fighting pose is proof of that. You traitorous quack.

Alfons: The lowest! Are you planning on hitting us even though you are a former doctor?

Roger: Don't make false accusations. I just thought I'd let you guys have a good night's sleep, since you usually don't get enough.

Jude: I’ll put you to sleep. I’ll comeback and bury you accidentally in a graveyard. 

Kate: This is a picture-perfect clash of friends! 

Alfons: Oh dear, the joint front is destroyed. It's no wonder it's come to this.

Alfons: Let's play it out in a no-holds-barred match.

Roger: That’s great, I won't complain even if I lose.

Jude: If there’s any mouth left to complain about it, sure.

Kate: STOOOOP!

Roger: What's the matter, missy? You’re being loud. 

Kate: As you can imagine, we can't afford to a situation where any of the crown is missing!

Kate: Violence. No. Absolutely not. Anyone who touches me will be considered disqualified and will not be given the necklace!

Jude: Wow, you've become quite the big talker haven’t you?

Jude: Isn't it okay if I take it away by force, princess?

Kate: If you try to take it away from me, I will run away as fast as I can, even if I have to drag a chair with me!

Jude: Ha, she's still as stubborn and obnoxious as ever.

Alfons: Kate has a point. If we were to die accidentally, it would be a national disaster.

Roger: But then, how do you settle the matter?

Roger: Kate, any good ideas?

Kate: Oh, I've decided! Just now!

Kate: The "best and kindest" of the three will receive this necklace.

Alfons & Roger: - The best.

Jude: That's a lukewarm criterion, isn't it? It's the kind of thing you would think of as a child.

Kate: If I don't give it to someone nice, that's when I’ll get in trouble again, right?

Kate: I think it's a good idea and a peaceful solution.

Alfons: That's a very Kate-esque, typical suggestion...shall we try it?

Alfons: Kate, Kate, you must be cramped tied to that chair. 

Alfons: I'll let you go. Here you go.

Kate: Oh, thank you very much, Alfons!

Alfons: I'm a gentleman, kind, and handsome, a national treasure, right?

Roger: Hey, back off, you frivolous man. I guess I'm the one who's kind.

Roger: Kate, there's no one as sweet and loving on you as I am, right? Leave it to me.

Jude: There's no way this masochistic pervert would be satisfied with you just being nice.

Jude: I'll be nice to you after I torture you a lot. You like this kind of thing, don't you?

Alfons: I don't think Jude is being nice. He is a villain, this president.

Alfons: I actually saw it…. the other day.

Alfons: Jude threw the fatty part of his steak onto Ellis' plate!

Jude: What's wrong with sharing something you don't like with others? I'm just giving them a hand out. 

Roger: It's not nice to force something you don't like on people, is it, Jude?

Jude: How dare you put yourself in someone else's shoes?

Jude: The other day you guys worked together to put Elbert to sleep with a drug that you don't understand, right?

Alfons: There are various things that I would like to clear up without Elle knowing about it, so I have no choice.

Roger: I just want to be able to experiment with new drugs.

Alfons: It's just that my interests coincided with these muscular glasses.

Roger: That’s right.

Jude: All of them are a bunch of bastards.

Alfons: Oh…

Jude: Yeah?

Alfons: Where is Kate going?

Jude & Roger: ………

Roger: When did you do this, missy?

Jude: How fast are you running away?

Alfons: Aha! 

Alfons: Disappointing. Now the game is back to square one.

Roger: Haha, that's good. It's more fun when you don't know what the game is. Hey, Jude?

Jude: Stupid.

[Master List]

[kurogxrix]

Rust In Peace

Hobie Brown x Reader

IN WHICH a day in with your boyfriend Hobie turns into a play fight. However he often tends to forget how strong he actually is, and you suffer the consequences.

[ request ]

“That game’s rubbish, ain’t no spider movin’ like that i’m telling ya’” the deep sound of your boyfriend’s voice made you jump, nearly making you drop your controller as he appeared from seemingly nowhere. Obviously he didn't, because his dripping hair and loosely tied towel that threatened to fall off of his waist told you otherwise.

“How would you know that this is not how spiders move?” you rolled your eyes playfully at him, tone dripping with sarcasm as you turned back around to face the small TV screen. 

“Ha. Ha. Funny.” Your boyfriend muttered out in a dry tone, much to your amusement. Hobie made his way towards you, both of your backs pressed comfortably against your couch as you sat on the floor. His hair dripped water everywhere, wetting your shoulder as you voiced out your complaints. 

The loud sounds of your playstation probably overheating went deaf to his ears as he stared at you. His attention derived from the “Spider-Man 2” game that was currently running on the screen that you seemed so interested in. Without warning, Hobie threw an arm around you, pulling you flushed against his side as he laid his head above yours. 

You paused your game immediately as you felt the wet sensation of Hobie’s hair drenching your own curls, creating a wet spot all the way down to the sleeves that covered your shoulders. The shirt wasn’t even yours in fact, the white ‘Misfits’ skull over the black fabric was evidently Hobie’s. 

“God, Hobie move!” you yelled, half laughing and half serious as you tried to pry yourself out of his undying grip. Though the man only continued to pull you closer to him, this time, he pointed his hair towards you in an aim of intentionally getting you drenched. Your struggling only got the both of you shuffling along your apartment’s floor, entangling your limps with the unfortunate wires that were lying besides you both. 

You could’ve sworn that Hobie had started tickling you at some point, or maybe you’d started laughing louder out of nowhere. You’d never know, Hobie just seemed to have that effect on people. He was everything that’d make a woman giggle, let alone laugh hysterically like you were right now. He was charming and a little bit tough spoken at times, two different natures that clashed together in the most attractive mix possible. 

“Oh ya’ want me to move? Sure i’ll move for you sweetheart.” Before you could even register what was happening, his arms unlatched from your shoulders as you back hit the ground with a thud. You managed to save your head from hitting the floor, despite his move being unexpected. You nearly wanted to smash a vase into your boyfriend's face at the sound of his laughter, and damn did his move just declare an open war. 

You sat up straight, hair chaotically out of place as you tried to puff it back to what it used to resemble. You crawled quietly towards the sofa as Hobie watched you between narrow eyes, he was no stranger to your intentions. 

“I wouldn’t do that if i was you, darlin’' he spoke, but you paid no mind to it as a pillow came flying towards his face. Plainly missing him because of your shitty aim, Hobie’s expression contorted to one of amusement once more. With heavy footsteps, Hobie approached you with a near-maliciouslook in his eyes. And like a prey to a beast, you found yourself being enabled to move. 

Soon enough, his large palms were at your sides. His calloused fingers slide underneath your shirt to grip at your naked skin, the rough skin of his hands itching at your own. Without a further warning, Hobie hoisted you onto his shoulders without much difficulty. You struggled in his arms, trying desperately to escape his hold despite the wide smile that occupied your features. A smile that mirrored his own. 

To the open eye, it was odd to see a genuine smile gracing the man’s face. If anything, the maximum they’d receive was a cunning smirk or that sly grin of his. Though you were glad to be blessed with the ability to witness such a scene, it made you feel special - and in Hobie’s heart; you were. 

Out of nowhere, you felt Hobie’s arms tighten around your middle, forcing a grunt out of you. Your blindness to the situation - given that you were literally facing the opposite side that your boyfriend currently was - made you unaware of his direction. You felt stupid for being unable to detect his route, because this was your own home. His spaced steps made it hard for you to even get a stable look at your surroundings, and unfortunately for you, you had arrived in your bedroom before you could even decipher. 

He threw you rather disgracefully against your own bed, making the mattress recoil under the sheer force of his throw. Before you could even fully register things, the tall punk was hovering right atop of you. The sight of the setting sun’s orange hue hitting his dark skin was something that you’d wish to engrave in your brain forever. He was beautiful, an art piece sculpted in some sort of grungy museum itself. Though the sore sight of him made you breathless, for now you had a boyfriend to fight, so it could wait. 

His hands attacked you first, finding your sore spots as he tickled you unrelentlessly. God and if you couldn’t breathe from the sight of him before, you most probably couldn’t now. With both your hands at his shoulders and feet at his waist, you attempted to push him off, but damn was he sturdy. 

He wouldn’t move, stuck there like a damned plank as he continued to tickle you. 

You were laughing, sure, and it was all fun and games until Hobie moved you up by the waist, the top of your head colliding painfully against your headboard. The pain was so unexpected that it took you a moment to react, simply lying there as your chest heaved up and down, trying to catch your breath. 

Then, it all hit you. The awful throbbing that came as an aftermath of the hit. The staggering tingle that it left behind as it felt like your brain was having some sort of disco party in there. Then finally came the tears that prickled in your eyes involuntarily, and the unnecessary additional pain that came with you biting your lips and you tried to stop the tears from escaping. Damn did it hurt so bad but you couldn’t even blame Hobie because you knew that it wasn’t his fault. 

It came to times like this where Hobie could forget how his spider-man powers enhanced his senses, thus including his strength that was already great before. 

“Shit!” he muttered, his brain circuiting ever since he’d heard the loud thud that resonated around the whole room. Hobie had already climbed off of you by now, deciding that It’d be better if he sat besides you for now. He was too ashamed to meet your eyes after that, and it'd make a damn funny scene to you if you weren’t currently suffering. He watched as you cradled your head, eyes closed shut and your jaw tense as your teeth were clanged shut together. 

“ ‘M sorry love, didn't think i’d send you up this forcefully.” he apologised genuinely, making a sliver of a smile raise onto your face. It wasn’t often that Hobie did apologise, and hearing him do it now made you feel more things that you wished you did. After a couple of seconds, you felt a pair of warm hands cupping your head. One placed itself on the side of your head, grazing your hairline with his thumb. The other one settled to cradle your head from behind, pressing painfully against your injury. 

If it were for anyone else’s eyes right now, they’d judge you for being frail or sensitive. But no one else in this universe apart from the bad-guys knew how painful it was to be sent back by the one and only (not really only, considering they all meet  everyday) Spider-Man. Additionally, Hobie wasn’t necessarily shaped like a bodybuilder, but his rippling muscles did little to appease your hit.

“I’m really a knob, ain’t I?” Hobie tried to joke, wondering if it’s better to leave your injury alone or if he should run a hand over it once more to soothe your pain. 

“You really are.” you groaned your words through, although the laughter that came with after was enough to reassure Hobie a little. Now that the worst pain had passed, you were contemplating whether killing him or killing yourself before you developed a bump the size of the moon at the back of your head. 

You closed your eyes for a second, exhaling loudly as you spread your arms out widely like and angel, taking up all space on your bed. 

“Here, lemme help you,” Hobie mumbled with that deep British accent that made your insides flutter. The material of his worn-out sweatpants brushed against your bare legs as he climbed over you again. You’d try to convince him to get a new pair, but he’d always hit you with some ‘consumerism’ argument. Sometimes you really wondered where he got his clothing from, but that’d be a discovery for another time.  

With both of his knees firmly planted besides your hips, Hobie hovered over you carefully. He didn’t even need to be sitting across your torso to hold himself up, because being spider-man surely meant that his thighs were finely trained. Next, Hobie grabbed onto your arms, though you were reluctant to give them to him as you brought them up towards your head. Pulling your arms back down, the punk that was currently above you now looked down at you with a long face. 

“Cmon love, y’know I'm not gonna hurt ya’. Unless you’re into that, then we can totally arrange something.” he flirted, as suave as usual. 

You fluttered at his words, finding it harder to decipher his intentions now. Hobie grasped your timid state to his advantage, taking your wrists into his hands again. He brought them up to your torso, cross-crossing them so they laid on the opposite shoulder. You bit your lip as you tried to retain your laughter, having now caught onto his intentions. Of course, there could be no other than Hobart Brown in this universe to injure you, then put you in a cartoonish vampire pose. 

“We all lay here today-“ Hobie started, his deep voice wavering as he tried to retain himself from chuckling. “to honorate the unfortunate, sorrowful, forlorn, unluck- OW!” 

Hobie rubbed his arm dramatically where you had lightly slapped him, having it of listening to him sputter a bunch of synonyms and what not.

You broke character for a second, seconds after having decided to play into his childish game, you smiled at the sound of his suffering. Once your smile faded and the unseen glare that Hobie sent to you had diminished, he began again. 

“As I said, the unfortunate death of my poor girlfriend. Who she, died of an injury to the head, the perpetrator is still unknown to this day! Rust in peace.” he cried out, voice full of humorous emotions. God, he was so out of his own character that it made you want to burst out laughing, but for now you had a crowd to entertain. Even if that crowd was the bits of dust that flew ‘round your room. 

“I’m so sorry to disrupt your little Bram Stoker fantasy, but I'm no Dracula. Normally, dead people aren’t posed like this.” you finally opened your eyes, pupils pointing towards your torso, your weirdly placed arms being in the spotlight. 

“How’d you know, you’ve never been dead?” he sassed, quirking an eyebrow up at you. 

“I’ve been to a funeral or two, m’sure that I know more than you.” you rebuked, lowering your arms and untwisting them from one another to lay them upon your stomach. Where they should’ve been. 

“Wow edgy,” he rolled his eyes playfully at you, a menacing grin taunting his lips. “And excuse me for my lack of knowledge, but I'm pretty sure dead people can’t talk.” 

At that, you simply stared at him with your mouth agape. Like a fish out of water, he mocked your action by recreating it. You winced as you tried to slap him upon the arm again, only for you to end up digging the throbbing part of your head down into your pillow. At last, Hobie finally softened at the sign of your fact twisting in an uncomfortable expression.

You didn’t acknowledge the sound of him leaving the room, his bare feet and sense of tranquillity created a cocktail of perfect stealth as he walked off across the concrete floor. You did, however, feel the sudden sensation of his hand pulling your head up. Then came the painful press of a freezing slip upon the back of your head. It stung at first, but you knew that it’d soon come to soothe your affliction. 

You sighed in relief as you felt Hobie joining you down onto the bed. His antics were funny at first, but now you were just tired. You couldn’t wait for sleep to find you, no matter how hard it has been for you recently. Your eyebags are no stranger to yourself, and Hobie is no blind man after all. His hand cradles the back of your head as he finally lies down besides you, urging you onto his chest as his other hand lays behind his head. 

Even in such an intimate position, he manages to look casual. Once your head dips to his chest, you’re already half-gone as a midday slumber engulfs you into its arms. Hobie grins warmly to himself, his hand holding the ice pack softly against your head as your head goes limp from the loss of consciousness. Chuckling to himself, he allows himself to close his eyes at his turn, though sleep does not find him. Spider-Man has no time for sleep, because even off duty, he has his own matters to attend.

For now, he’s not busy saving civilians from raging monsters, or travelling throughout the spider-verse to aid other spiders. For now, his mission is to keep that damned ice pack from sliding off your head, and he’s adamant on completing his job. 

-

i was supposed to post this like 2 days ago but each time i had to edit it i kept on falling asleep😭

[zablife]

This look he has just reeks of touch my wife one more time and I'll raise hell. Or reader is shy (and married to Tommy) and is trying not to be rude + moving to stop the touches on her arm. Tommy sees if they keep doing it before he intervenes

Tommy watching you do just anything at home

John pretending to read but watching you tell a someone off. Also him waiting to see if the guy does something

Sorry 😅idk what to do with myself

Tysm for the ask, darl! I love all of these amazing ideas! Protective Tommy makes me feral and that look in the 2nd GIF is pure sunshine. However, I've written loads of Tommy requests recently so I'll show John some love.

Place Your Bets

"You there!" a mean looking drunk shouted over the din of the betting shop. You didn't bother looking up from your desk as you concentrated on taking a customer's bet over the telephone.

Undeterred, the man slowly clomped toward you, swaying as he walked. He approached wreaking of whisky and body odor and you hung up as quickly as possible to shoo him away. Rising from the desk you motioned to the back of the queue, closer to the doors where the stench would be carried away with the breeze. "You'll have to wait your turn," you informed him tersely.

"I know you," he said with a sneer, showing off a row of rotten, yellow teeth. "You was the lass who took my bet last week."

You turned away, unsure how the poor sod had placed his bet and not caring in the slightest.

"I'm talking to you!" he shouted and you turned with fire dancing in your eyes as he dared to continue. "You gave me that rubbish tip about Monaghan Boy!" he said, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve.

"Gonna let your missus handle that one?" a secretary asked as she passed John's desk.

John lowered his paper as he shrugged, "Why not? She can take care of herself better than half the men here," he said, voice swelling with pride. He grinned to himself as he thought of all the times you'd bested him in an argument and counted himself lucky someone else was on the receiving end of your temper for once.

"He must have been off his tits! Came in dead last," the man grumbled to you.

"You'd know something about that, eh?" you countered, snickering as you pushed past him to gather a few papers.

"What did you say to me?," the man asked, puffing out his chest.

"Oh, God, this is going to be good," John said with a slight giggle. He could tell by your folded arms and the way your foot began to tap rapidly against the floorboards you were properly angry now.

You whipped around, annunciating your words as if he were a complete idiot, because he was. "I said you're a fucking drunk who made a shit bet so don't come in here and throw a wobbler like a bloody child!"

Sitting back to watch the drama unfold from behind his paper, John snickered as he listened to you give the man a tongue lashing. The man retaliated calling you a cunt.

John sucked in a breath. "Ooh, I wouldn't call her that, mate!" John commented to no one in particular, shaking his head. He kicked his feet off the desk and leaned forward slightly to see how you would return the insult.

You wagged a finger in the man's face, half his size, but berating him as though you were equally matched. "Call me that once more and I'll cut ya, ya filthy animal! Don't fuck with me!"

That's when John saw the man reach out to grab you by the arm and he was on his feet in seconds, pounding the floorboards menacingly. He pinned the man to the wall, narrowing his eyes at the bastard who dared lay a hand on you, asking, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" The man could only gurgle in response as John held him by the throat.

You brushed your sleeve, noting the dirt he'd left behind with a frown before collecting yourself and lightly placing a hand on John's shoulder. He turned to look at you, eyes softening, but grip remaining firm.

"Can I borrow your blade, darling? Left mine in me other skirt," you said, voice as thick and sweet as honey.

"Of course, love," he said, handing it over with a quick kiss.

"Wait, wh-what's sh-she going to do with that?" the man stuttered, too afraid to move.

"Cut your balls off, I reckon," John replied. Breaking out into a shit eating grin, he reached up to smack the man on the cheek a couple of times. Then he pulled back to take in the look of horror as he snorted, "Nah, just take your eyes. She's a blinder after all and she did warn ya not to fuck with her."

[yuikomoriemo]

So I'm making a headcanon list-

Pls don't judge

DIABOLIK LOVERS HEADCANONS (MORE WILL BE ADDED)

Since ayato plays basketball as a hobby reiji always scolds him to go for a shower-

Kanato has tea parties with his wax figures,teddy and sometimes forces ayato and laito to be there and dress them up.

Subarus called the police once on reiji(for being irritating)and actually got him arrested- boy- grounded a week-

Ayato likes playing with yuis hair but won't admit it.

Kou has once been accused of homophobia and Queerbaiting but- he retaliated by kissing subaru infront of his possible fans.

Subaru only plays roblox to bully brats offline

Reiji had NO CLUE how to use a Samsung,iPhone,galaxy, NONE AND IT TOOK SHU AND SUBARU MONTHS TO TEACH HIM/ they regretted it because REIJI....HAS A FACEBOOK PAGE

(reijis posts would be about his interest in chemistry which is adorable BUT....HE POSTS CRINGY PHOTOS OF HIMSELF AND ON MORE THAN ONE OCCASION POST HIM PRANKING SHU-)

Yui always makes cookies for the family but as for kanato and ayato.....STALE COOKIES

Cordelia loves watching RuPauls drag race

I think laito is secretly a tik tok sensation

Kanato expects reiji to cook him chocolate cake and sometimes yuma BUT THAT RESULTS IN KANATO CRYING IN A CORNER

The only social media subaru has (apart from MYSPACE) IS TWITTER

Kou sometimes feeds on his fans during concerts for effect (such as his song DEVILS SPIRE)

Shu plays minecraft with yui

Ruki is secretly reading Fifty Shades Of Grey-

Azusa does things to annoy his brothers on purpose so that he'd get hit-

Beatrix always made shu do the little lad dance if he wanted to go out.

Cordelia made kanato do the little lad dance if he wanted candy-

Whenever reiji goes shopping he MUST take kanato even though kanato always wants something but never ever gets it and throws a tantrum.

Karl heinz listens to abba-

Subaru and yuma are hardcore Marliyn manson fans-

Come on- Laitos been to a gay bar at least more than twice lol

Reiji goes to AA meetings (he's a wine/vodka mom-)

Yui had a goth phase at one point and hates to admit it.

Azusa likes to sing when he's alone (The masochism tango-)

Kanatos favourite music artist is Melianie Martenz

Ayato will NEVER ADMIT IT BUT....he had a Justin Bieber phase

Reiji watches full house

Kou and laitos favourite show is Desperate Housewives (laitos reason- let's just say the letters M i l and f) (kous reason- DRAMA)

Subaru made yui watch Moral Orel (ITS A GOOD SHOW BUT- VERY...VERY...DARK)

Yui once asked kanato to wear a dress she bought just out of curiosity

Ayato makes homophobic jokes- (I like dark humour bit that guy would take it to far-))

Subaru paints his nails black

Kanato 100% has BPD

I think yui attempted to murder the sakamakis once in her life-

Kou makes his brothers practice his dances for an upcoming concert.

Yui is a cat person (as in she prefers cats as pets)

Some related to my lgbtq headcanons reiji would've been 100% homophobic in the past

Karlheinz has an onlyfans- (IM SORRY-)

Kanato forces ayato to dress up

Yumas "sugar cubes" are actually just weed mixed with sugar-

Reiji always does the triplets homework assignments

Ayato has tried numerous occasions to make takoyaki for yui since she always makes it.

Azusas music taste is heavy metal-

Laito loves rose bubble baths

Every weekend reiji makes the triplets go out and takes their phones to snoop but immediately gives them back SCARED OF THE THINGS HE SAW (subaru and shu pay their own phone bill- maybe the triplets should do the same-)

Laito loves McDonald's chicken nuggets

Reiji laughs at the idea of gentle parenting (CLAY PUPPINGTON I TELL YA-)

If cordelia was alive she'd totally be the heartthrob on vogue magazine-

When christa is in a good state of mind subaru takes her out to a cafe just to chat.

Reiji always says fiction is rubbish BUT THE NEXT MINUTE HES WATCHING HOWLS MOVING CASTLE WITH YUI-

Beatrix used to make reiji read silly books despite his intellect such of "history of walnuts"

Cordelia whenever she wasn't a heartless bitch to her kids she'd read them bedtime stories from brothers grimm-

If reiji was a dad he'd TRY HIS BEST TO TREAT THEM BOTH THE SAME-

Subaru likes to bring stray cats in his room if they wander in the mansion (Let's see how long that lasts with clean freak reiji-)

Reiji sometimes ONLY SOMETIMES...covers shu up in a blanket when he's sleeping on the couch

Sakamaki Anime

Shu: Kiss him not me

Reiji: Howls moving castle

Laito: ....HELLSING ULTIMATE for the wrong reasons-

Kanato: Junji Ito collection

Ayato:NARUTO

Subaru: YURI ON ICE

Kou follows Harry styles on insta to get fashion tips of his posts for upcoming concerts-

Yui cut subarus hair one time ...PHHHHHHHH....IT DIDNT GO WELL...

Karl used to make the triplets play jenga for 2 hours straight just to entertain himself with their arguments.

Yuma once gave yui his SUGAR CUBES....she wanted more it felt better than being bitten 4752226775444 times A DAY

OK SO...The wedding night- cordelia totally got drunk on purpose and slapped her bridemaids for staring at Karl and then sobbed when Karl yelled at her-

Laito once bought edible-(stuff I can't say but you can guess-) AND FORGOT ABOUT IT ONE TIME ONLY TO HAVE REIJI SMACK THE SHIT OUT OFF HIM WHEN HE FOUND IT

Ayato and subaru sometimes team up to annoy laito

Ok- this one might be offensive so I apologise in advance, on many occasions reiji would be absolutely pissed after having a jehova witness at the mansion door

Beatrix tried cordelias wine and they both ended up actually getting along for once

@yuma-mukami-garden-god @notdiabolika @diabolikpersonals

[boowritess]

rubbish days

141 member of your choice x reader

maybe you're the regular barista, bartender or waitress at the cafe/bar he often frequents. or you're the uni student, worker, or just an average civilian he often crosses because you guys happen to live close or frequent the same grocery store? perhaps are on the same bus or train?

but whoever you are, he sees you often enough that the both of you look at eachother with familarity and offer a small nod or smile. and if by chance circumstances lead you both to be close, maybe you both chat about the weather or how busy the day is.

on this particular day, he is so quick to spot you amongst the crowd or maybe turning the corner in a store- honestly it's embarrassing to him how quick he is to catch you in a crowd. he can't help it, you brighten his day.

but this day, your eyes don't meet his. there's no small nod or small smile. rather your face is blank and something is off. he can see it in your eyes and the way you stare blankly in front of you. there's a dullness to them, a slight sadness.

and before he can stop himself, "weathers shit this morning, eh?" he speaks, in that familar deep tone of his that draws your eyes to finally recognize him. though it seems to take a bit. "just bout saw three people slip on the pavement." when there's a lightness that starts to rise he adds, "though i might've been one of them."

his heart nearly fucking gave way when a smile falls on your face and then you laugh and he swears he died. but when you say nothing more and look away for a brief second.

he nudges you softly, barely a nick against your arm but it's enough for you to look up at him. "you alright, sweetheart?" he asks in a gentle tone. though he feels like he shouldn't of asked- because at the end of the day he is a stranger to you other than a familiar face you see in public. before he can apologize, you let out a deep sigh and shake your head. though you don't say anything else.

"then how about i get you something warm to drink? if you're busy we can stop by the coffee cart. it's a rubbish day and something warm might do ya good, though only if you want to, sweetheart." he speaks to you with a softness, in a way that lets you know that you can simply decline and maintain the status between you.

but then you find yourself nodding, and the walls you have built today are cracking when your shoulders slump. "that would be good. thank you." your words are soft and a little cracked but it makes him smile gently and lead the way to get a hot beverage.

maybe you don't say anything about what you're going through. maybe you simply get to know him.

but maybe you do tell him. tell him the weight that has been on your shoulders. tell him all about the current mental struggle going on in your brain since the day wore on or maybe when you first woke up. maybe you tell him about upcoming anxieties from work or uni. or maybe you just tell him you're tired. or how alone you feel at the moment. or how everything is just going down hill.

you don't know why you tell him but when you look at him - well actually when he looks at you, he has an aura that makes it seem he is willing to go to battle with every single thing you say. so you can't help it. especially when all he does is not look at you like a freak - because maybe that's what you feel like - but he looks at you like he truly understands what you're going through.

so when you're finished. there's a hint of regret at having dumped all this onto him. though it's washed away when he takes your hand in his and he offers a soft smile, "thank you for telling me, sweetheart. you've done something not many can and talked about what's going. that's a sort of strength that not many could do and i'm proud of you for doing so."

then he's giving you his number, "whenever you want. whenever you need. day or night. for a talk or even to go do something. i'm yours."

the implication of his words having an unknown deeper meaning.

maybe from there you both stay and chat a little longer. maybe you have to go or he has to get back to what he was doing.

whatever happens next, all he can do is beam with pride when he see's that spark of life in your eyes return. at how you visibly brightened.

from that day forward. the dynamic between you two changed. from strangers to friends. and with the time that you need, friends to lovers.

a/n: ya'll i tried so hard to make it a you choose thang. but i just needed a comfort fic (cause homie is going through it mentally) and didn't know which 141 to choose lol. anyways i hope ya'll are doing okie mentally, physically and maybe spiritually. don't be afraid to reach out whether to me or someone else. ya'll ain't alone- especially my mentally struggling betches i love u and see u. drink some water xx

[suzannahnatters]

A hot take for you this morning:

The conviction has been growing upon me for several years that whole segments of Western media are steadily losing the ability to write for & about women. Female characters, female-led stories, and romantic literacy are all getting worse.

I grew up largely free of TV/movies, and for a long time prided myself on reading no book younger than 50 years old (yeah, I was insufferable). I've since sought to change that. That's why I believe I have the authority to say this: I see a really stark contrast between how it is now and how it used to be.

Compared to today, male authors like Shakespeare, Trollope, and even Tolkien had active empathy & respect for their female characters. They centred whole narratives around believable women. And they wrote unabashed romances.

That's largely gone now.

Compare western media to kdrama. Kdrama usually centres male protagonists in a way it doesn't centre female characters. But it also centres romance - HIGHLY sophisticated & detailed romance.

Watching kdrama cemented my suspicions, because it feels like the first storytelling I've found since the 1800s to treat romance with dignity and respect, & above all as something worthy of male attention. That is SO RARE these days.

I don't think something needs to get male attention in order to be worthy, but as any woman will tell you, if something DOESN'T get male attention, it's viewed as trivial and contemptible if its existence is noted at all.

It's true that more women than ever are writing stories about women, including romances. The problem is, this seems to have resulted in women's stories getting shoved into a ghetto; either YA or romance or the dreaded "chick flick"

As this genre divide developed between stories for men and stories for women, it seems like too many male storytellers took it as a license to care even less about writing for & about women.

Ahem, Popular Urban Fantasy Author Who Lists His Female Characters' Bust Size Without Fail.

Please note, I know many good and sincere men who want to do better. I see you and I'm so grateful for your efforts. But if you've mostly been reading "blokey" stories - and I know the appeal of stories about & for oneself - you haven't been given the tools you need.

The final straw seems to be the rise of vocal, self-consciously chauvinist online fandoms which rubbish media they see as being too feminine and loudly demand increasingly chauvinist storytelling. These people DO have an impact. Shows they bless get renewed season after season. Media they curse is lucky to survive. I mention no names. But we've all seen them shape public discourse.

What it all adds up to is this: if I want believable writing about women, in a lot of ways I'm better off reading a man from 1850 than a man from 2020. And that's pretty messed up.

How is this going to change? On a cultural level, I don't know. But I want to shout out to the fellow author who read my mixed review of his book, reached out to me for a detailed critique, and listened for an hour as I talked. You, sir, are one of the real ones.

[rustboxstarr]

Hiiii! How about one where you and Eddie are arguing about keeping the house clean and you tell him you're not his mother to clean up after himself and he just gets angrier until you decide to punish him by not letting him touch you AT ALL and he's fine with it until days pass and he becomes needy AF and you want to give it to him, but not until he complies with your requests of him doing house chores and never once hearing him complain. He agrees but only if you let him absolutely destroy you

🌹The Incentive🌹

Summary: Your work trip is cut short and you're welcomed to a lovely... pigsty. Eddie has to do some real changes and surprisingly, Robin has the solution, cue some horny and desperate ass misery for Eddie hehe.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut.

Domestic fighting, fear of domestic abuse, talk of R being homeless, talk of rape threats (NOT FROM EDDIE!), low-key kinda toxic for a sec, use of Y/N, yeah homeboy has undiagnosed ADHD, fluff, nakey nakey, Oral m & f receiving, slightly dangerous deep throating oop, P in V, reader is 25 and Eddie 26, established relationship, let me know if i missed any!

Wordcount: 19.5 k

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! I am so sorry it took such a long time to post it but I loved writing it! ❤️ I originally had another approach but I think this one is better haha. I did also create some media for visuals (I think I should keep doing it in the future, idk why but I love visuals, what do ya'll think?) so feel free to check them out! I suggest having a look at them before you start reading :)

Feel free to request, I loved doing this!! ❤️❤️❤️

PS: I didn't want to spoil the Barbie movie other than basic information so its kind of slack but yeah just fyi there is a mention of it :)

Love yas!

Fic visuals

Check out my other works!

“Oh my fucking god Eddie! I’ve been gone three days, three!” your mouth had dropped wide open as well as your laptop bag which thudded to the floor with the shock you were experiencing when you came home. Dirty dishes piled up on every single empty space -not already occupied by rubbish, food not put back in the fridge, empty beer and soda cans- occupying the kitchen counters. Shoes were haphazardly strewn across the entrance to the door, each one seemingly kicked off, your own were knocked over and precious, expensive heels were right in the line of fire for a trampling. Leather, denim, canvas and blazer jackets alike were littered all around the doormat. Multiple empty and half empty pizza boxes lay stacked on the coffee table, that too hit by the hurricane which was Eddie, rubbish, DnD notes, batteries, magazines and just about everything else could be found on the sleek mahogany wood. 

The discarded clothes that littered the hardwood floor acted as a red carpet for the man himself, Eddie Munson, unfortunately, your boyfriend, screaming into his headset while hunched forward to pay undivided attention to the game on screen, sweatpant clothed legs spread wide with two elbows resting on top, connected to his naked torso. 

He jumped in fright when he heard your shrill voice, he clearly hadn't heard the door open. His face contorted into a pained expression as he slipped one of the cups off his ears, watching you carefully as you scanned the apartment in disbelief. “Heyyy… weren't you uh coming home tomorrow?” his teeth were bit tight as his nose scrunched, waiting for the inevitable reaction. 

“What. The. Fuck. Is. This?” it was clear from the tension in your face that you were visibly fuming, smoke may as well be forcing out of your ears as of this moment. “I.. I gotta go” Eddie whispered into the microphone before taking his headset off completely, as he stood up and reached for the remote you lay notice to the smattering of crumbs that rolled off his chest and fell to the floor. “How come you're here so early baby?” his voice was quiet, both in an attempt to sooth you but also to dampen the whole situation. “Don’t you dare fucking baby me. What the actual fuck am I looking at right now?” your eyes were wide, your limbs stiff as board and teeth clenched in anger, no doubt only worsening the inevitable dental issues you would have in the future from your constant mindless teeth grinding. 

“I was gonna clean up I swear” your stare was unwavering and implying he continue. “You weren't supposed to see any of this, I promise, I was gonna clean up tomorrow before I picked you up from the airport” taking slow steps during each word he uttered he arrived in front of you, hands very gently reaching out to hold your hips. 

Well he was fucked. You pushed him away, almost backing into the door behind you as you began, “They cut the trip short so I came to surprise you, and this is what I come home to? Why would it even be here in the first place?! How do you manage to fucking trash our whole apartment, because I’m guessing theres more shit I’m going to find, IN THREE DAYS?!” he physically flinched at the volume of your voice as it rang around the room. “I-I had the guys over” in comparison to your voice Eddie sounded like a little church mouse as he whispered to you. 

“That is not an excuse! Who the fuck doesn’t clean up after having people over?!” you harshly shoved him out of the way as you stomped past him, heels clicking against the floors, having seen the state of the living room on your right and the kitchen on your left your most important place to inspect was the bedroom. 

Once again Eddie flinched as he heard the loud, shocked gasp that travelled down your throat. “I-I just wanted to relax ya know? For the weekend, no tasks, no cleaning and shit” he followed to stand behind you in the doorway. Sheets were crumpled and falling off the bed, the bedsheet barely even covering the mattress, clothes were scattered everywhere, spilling out of dresser doors behind the usually closed wardrobe door, on the floor, on the bed and both nightstands. Papers were littered across the various fabrics, notes and guidebooks to Dungeons and Dragons thrown on the floor, multiple bottles of various makeup and skincare products severed from their neat collection on your makeup table, instead left on the floor after seemingly being knocked down. 

Both Eddie's laptop and your Ipad -missing from its safekeeping in your bedside drawer- almost completely hidden under half of Eddie's wardrobe on the floor, begging to be stepped on.

“RELAX?! NOT CLEAN?!” you swerved around to face him, “YOU DON’T CLEAN, I CLEAN” an angry finger pointed at yourself, “You don’t do shit! I clean the bathroom, I clean the kitchen, I’m almost always the one picking up after dinner-” “That is not true and you know it”

You chose to ignore his comment as you continued working yourself up to a full blown rage-fit, “I do the laundry-”

“I do it too!” 

“You do it when I ask! I make the bed, I take out the trash”

“You barely ever do that, I almost always take it when I go to work-”

“STOP INTERRUPTING ME!” your high pitched screech made Eddie flinch for the third time tonight and it shut him right up. “Its like I’m living with a fucking child. You're a man-child Eddie. You don’t do shit unless I ask you too, and the only reason you take out the trash is because I had to nag you for two whole months! I am not your mother! I shouldn't have to do this!!” 

Oh how you would have loved to just come home to those almond brown eyes, adorable dimples and smiling lips. How you would have loved to just rewind from the five hour flight home from Wyoming after your shitty conference, just strip off, take a warm bath, listen to music and then wrap up with Eddie in bed while you watched Bob’s Burgers and munched on takeout. Exhaustion ached in your limbs and pulled at your shoulders, it crept up within all the tight seams of your pencil skirt and blouse, it pricked at your heels and toes from those stupid stilettos. It itched in the nylon stockings, it ripped at your throat, it squeezed at your scalp, begging someone to release your hair from the confines of the tight bun your hair was wrapped in. It urged and pleaded with you to take a breath and relax. But you couldn't and wouldn’t let it win. 

“I am not a fucking child” and he had the audacity to scoff at you. As if the garbage dump you were surrounded by wasn't already adding fuel to the fire that puff of air definitely did. “Yes! Yes you are! You are 25 years old and you only just moved out of your poor uncles trailer-” 

“Hey I slept on the couch since I was 21 all the way up to 24” 

“And Wayne slept on it since you were six! He’s a fifty year old man, now with a bad back because of you!” 

“Ok can we please not bring him into this?” 

While it most definitely was a good point on your end, you decided to respect his wishes, it was a little, ok, very mean to bring it up and use it against him. Using one of his weakest points against him when you knew it was one of his most shameful regrets. “Fine! How about we talk about you not being able to get of your fucking ass, get your shit together and be a fucking adult sooner? Huh?” 

“Fuck you, I got a job the second I graduated and started saving. Not everyone is as fucking perfect as you and live on their own since they were 17” His eyes screwed tightly shut the second he heard the words fly out of his mouth. 

“What the fuck did you just say?” oh now you were properly angry, how dare he? “I WAS NOT PERFECT I WAS HOMELESS! FOR THREE YEARS!!” angry red hot tears threatened to spill from your water lines at the fact that you had to explain this to him. “I am so sorry baby, I didn't mean it” callused hands found your waist and slipped to wrap around you. 

“Get the fuck off me!” another set of hands pushed with force at his naked chest, willing him off you. “Don't you dare touch me right now” before you could even think over the words you were saying they had already left your throat; “In fact don't touch me at all” well you’d said it now and you sure as hell weren’t going back on your words. 

“What?” his frown only angered you further, you were only an inch close to tipping point, rage boiling throughout your veins, and if you let yourself you were sure you were about to start kicking, screaming, throwing both fists and any object within range at the walls as well as Eddie. “I said DO NOT FUCKING TOUCH ME, don’t even come near me you’re disgusting” venom was laced in your words as you spat the insult at him. 

“Really you think I’m disgusting?” the annoyed disbelief in Eddie's tone made you actually want to cry, it was as if you were talking to a wall, he wasn't registering a single thing you were saying to him other than the fact that you were having -in his opinion- a bitchfit. You turned away from him in desperation, not being able to look at him. When your eyes fell onto Eddie's bedside table you found the perfect evidence to your point. Stomping over to it you held up the pair of black boxers oh-so carefully thrown onto his lamp. “This Eddie, this is fucking disgusting” you held the underwear up by the waist band to him in show. 

Meeting his eyes you found them wide and swimming with fear, you frowned in confusion, looking back to the underwear and then the bedside table and then you found the icing on the cake, the cherry on top. 

Next to a knocked over bottle of lotion were multiple scrunched up tissues. Dropping the underwear you picked one of them up, holding it out for him. “Is this cum?” the disbelief in both your voice and face caused for an unreadable expression on Eddie's end. “Is this actually fucking semen I am holding right now?!” The wrinkles in Eddie's nose, the scrunched fearful pout and half lidded eyes, forced closed with the movement of his cheeks told you everything you needed to know. 

“EEEEWWW” you screeched, “THE BIN IS RIGHT THERE! RIGHT THERE! Oh my god, I can’t, I’m fucking leaving, fuck this” you stormed past him out in to the open area again. “I am really really sorry” his pleading was lost on you. “Don't” you held a hand up to silence him, “When I come back all this shit” you waved your hands around to showcase the apartment, “-better be gone and properly cleaned up” 

“Wha- Where are you going?” 

“I don’t fucking know but I can’t be here” 

“No baby, please let's just talk about this” his hand reached out to stop yours from grabbing the handbag next to your duffel. “I said don’t touch me! I’m cutting you off!” he frowned at that as you ripped your hand away from him, grabbing the bag and angrily throwing it over your shoulder. “What do you mean you're cutting me off?” true confusion sounded in his words as you turned towards him. “It means until you’ve gotten this fucking shit sorted you’re not touching me, you’re not even going to look at me unless its my face and nowhere else and you sure as hell arent getting kisses, hugs” you began counting off on your fingers as Eddie scoffed “blowjobs, handjobs, boobjobs, you’re not gonna finger me, eat me out, or do anything to me and we’re not gonna be having sex for a looong time” he seemed to finally understand that you were in fact being serious because realisation crept up on his face. A slight hint of desperation showed its trace before it was replaced with mean smugness.

“It’s a two person thing sweetheart, it's not just for me, it’s for the both of us” 

“Yeah? Well I can actually survive without it” your eyebrows raised, anticipating his next words and already prepared with the ‘Oh really?’ look to shame him with. “Puh I can survive without it” he scoffed, Eddie Munson had become predictable, to you anyway, because the look was right on point. “Just last night you were texting me, begging me to go on facetime with you” 

“Couples do that, it's called phone sex” he rolled his eyes. “The night before too, oh! And the night before that as well!” he rolled his eyes harder this time “Wow you caught me I missed my girlfriend jesus christ” you weren't really believing the words you were about to utter, but at this point he was just getting on your nerves with his stupid responses, “Ya’ know what? I don’t think you did miss your girlfriend, everything is about sex with you, it wouldn’t come as a fucking suprise if you’re only in this relationship to get your dick wet, bet all those fucking ‘I love you baby’, ‘I wanna get married and have kids with you’, ‘You mean the world to me’ don’t even mean shit” you whined his quotes, hurt began to show on his face but you chose to push through, “You’re just a fuckin’ manipulator, saying shit cuz you know it’ll get you some” 

The hurt feelings etched in his face dissipated and replaced with anger not unlike your own, “You know that's not true! You know you’re the best fuckin’ thing in my life. Jesus Christ I’m so fuckin sorry I didn’t clean up after myself when literally no one was around to fucking see it! I’m SO sorry that I just wanted a relaxing weekend after slaving away working on trashed cars for clients who treat me like shit!” it was your time to scoff as his voice raised and he was close to shouting. 

The whole thing was too much, nothing had prepared you for this, all you had expected was to come home and spend some quality time with your boyfriend. “I can guarantee you my work is much fucking harder for me” 

“Don't pull that card” 

“Oh no, no I will. Do you have a boss breathing down your neck, pestering you to do his and everyone else's work? No. Do you have 13 hour work days? No. Is your commute to work 3 hours back and forth? No. Do you have wretched coworkers who think it's ok to have a conversation with your boobs? No! Do you have coworkers rubbing up on you without permission? NO! Do you have coworkers who hit on you despite you making it clear you don't want to? Who want sexual favours in exchange for picking up extra shifts? Who threaten to rape you because they don’t get what they want? NO THE FUCK YOU DON’T SO GO AHEAD AND FUCK YOURSELF” neighbours would no doubt be coming up any minute to complain or check on you. If this continued you'd be having a police report on your hands by the morning. 

Tears were running down your cheeks uncontrollably, your voice shook while crescent moons threatened to scar on your palms from how hard you were clenching your fists. Panic spread throughout your body at retelling the tales Eddie had heard long ago, tales you had left dead and buried, tales you had protected yourself from. “I KNOW YOU HAVE IT TOUGH OK? YOU'VE HAD A TOUGH LIFE! BUT SO HAVE I! I JUST WANTED TO RELAX!!” Eddie was shouting now too, his height towering over you as the panic continued to spread, to infect the veins which pumped your blood and leave nothing behind but a rotten carcass. 

For once in your relationship the prospect of Eddie was terrifying to you. The anger in his eyes, in his face, in his whole body. Men were capable of anything, and one wrong button pushed and everything could change, you were a strong independent woman but at the end of the day Eddie was a man, and up against each other, the man will always win. 

“YOU HAD A TOUGH LIFE TILL YOU WERE SIX YEARS OLD! YOU DON'T EVEN REMEMBER IT!!” Anger overtook the terrifying freight that accompanied the panic, the anger was too strong to take a step back from, assess the situation and consider what you might be getting yourself into. But once the loudest scream of the night had been shouted, had rang throughout the room, you got that chance. You needed to calm down, not just for the sake of the argument or your relationship but for the sake of your body and your life. It didn't matter that Eddie could never hurt a fly, it didn't matter that he would shriek in disapproval whenever someone was about to squash a bug, it didn't matter that he still put out food for the raccoons in the alley behind the auto shop, it didn't matter that he spent almost every waking second cherishing you and reminding you of how deep his love for you ran. At the end of the day. He. Was. Still. A. Man. 

You sighed, “I’m not even gonna get into what my life has been like because I know you know. So just fuck off yeah? Clean up this fucking pigstie and don’t speak to me” you could have continued, you could have gone through your whole life story once again. You could have used the fact that your parents had abandoned you in an orphanage before you could even make any sound other than crying, that the orphanage had shut down in your teens, that you had no one else and lived off scraps, food from dumpsters and eventually soup kitchens, you could have used the fact that you ended up in the arms of a man three times your age who used you for your body and fed you delusions about his love for you against him. But your body ached, ached with tiredness, panic, anger and just about every other negative emotion, you couldn't deal with the shouting, the digging up the past, it was just too much. 

Just as he was about to open his mouth you turned and within seconds you were out of the door and out of sight, running away from the problem as fast as your legs would take you, running away just like you always did. Avoiding the problems. 

The chill night air didn't start nipping at your skin until you’d run as far as you could muster, you couldn't have known that the dismissal of changing into comfortable clothes before the flight would be biting you in the ass. Just as you couldn't have known that a shoeless, shirtless Eddie was running down onto the street in search of you but came up short, with no knowledge of where you were or even what direction you were headed. 

Once you slowed to a stop outside a closed cafe the world seemed to come into view again. Your feet and legs were aching, just like every other part of your body, tears were streaming down your face, your lungs were screaming from the pressure, panting as you tried to catch your breath. Looking around your suffering only intensified when you realised you were sat outside Another Broken Egg Cafe, the central hotspot for yours and Eddie's classic autumn dates, curled up in the corner while rain poured down the windows. A loud sob broke out onto the empty side street, nothing but the light of the street lamps to keep you company as your phone rang. Your lungs heaved as the photo of Eddie wrapped around you with a wet kiss landed to your cheek at Steve’s welcomed you lovingly to accompany Eddie's call. Collapsing onto the step of the door to the mom and pop’s coffee shop you let out a silent sob, eyes shut tight, temple meeting the wall as snot and tears alike streamed down your face. 

The ringing kept egging the tears and panic on so you clicked the off button twice, declining his call and letting silence seep into the dark night. Within seconds the ringing started up again, switching your sound off you set the phone down onto the concrete step and let your head fall into your hands while you quieted down. 

The soft cream blouse offered you no warmth whatsoever when you finally levelled to even breaths and wiped off your bodily fluids on the sleeve of it. The relief of finally letting your hair out and slipping your shoes off only lasted so long before a strong gust of wind interfered with your short lived stability. With time you picked up your phone, opening it up to see 18 missed calls and a near 40 texts within the 20 minutes you'd sat down and an extra 10 you'd spent running. 

A mixture of information texts on your missed calls from your operator and Eddies worried ranting took up the space of your lockscreen before you clicked on the latest one and scrolled up in the chat:

Roommate 🙄

This is now your funeral picture babe

Oh fuck off 

Nope promise, everybody gotta see this

You suck 🖕

Yeah but you swallow ;)

Oh gtg, meetings starting, ill . text you tonight bye love you . ❤️

Ok bye princess, good luck, love you too ❤️

10.04 pm

Where the fuck did you go?

Seriously answer me right now!

I need to know where you are

You cant just run off we need to talk about this

Y/N seriously 

Pick up the phone!!!

This is serious we need to talk about this

Come home right now

Im not fucking around

Come home

Now

You need to come home we need to discuss this 

Answer the phone!!

I know youre mad at me but we need to communicate with each other

I dont like you just running off when youre not in the right headspace

Babe seriously where are you?

Princess please pick up the phone I’m rly worried

Baby please I need to know youre ok

Please just answer the call

Or at least text me so i know ur ok 

Please baby i love you so much❤️

I just want to know youre ok

Just send me your location and i can come pick you up 

Please honey im begging you pick up the phone

Ill clean up the bedroom and you can chill in there while i clean❤️

Sweetheart i beg of you, answer the phone

Please just tell me where you are so i can  come pick you up

I need to know youre ok

Please dont just be ignoring me, i just wanna know youre ok

Its freezing out you dont have a jacket baby 

Srsly youre going to catch a cold

Y/N please, we dont have to talk if you dont 

want to i just want to know youre safe

I need to know youre safe

Please baby 

Youre freaking me out 

Please just pick up the phone 

I feel sick knowing youre just out in the city somewhere 

I just want to know youre ok 

Theres really sketchy people out here, just tell me youre safe

Please let me know youre safe???

. . . 

He's still typing in the chat when you finally finish reading his texts, a sinking feeling surrounds your stomach as you sigh, you weren't ready to make up yet and you definitely weren't in the mood to see or talk to him. 

Roommate  🙄

I'm fine. 

Oh thank god!

Where are you princess? 

I don't want to tell you but I’m ok, just give me a sec and I’ll tell you ok?

Ok baby ❤️

Thoughts were swimming around your head while you exited the app, you knew he was clearly quite worried and at least he did respect your wish not to tell him but you really didn't feel ready to explain everything to him, have to be picked up and have a no doubt long talk about the whole ordeal. All you wanted to do was to sleep. 

“Wassup sexy?” Robin’s cheery voice was what caused relief to rush through you as she picked up the phone. “Hi” your tired and admittedly sad voice was not lost on her and it showed when an almost probably equally worried tone matched the one Eddie would have occupied if you had picked up the phone. In reality Eddie's voice would have probably sounded ten times worse than Robin’s “Hey are you ok? You sound sad”. You breathe an eerie chuckle, “Yeah I’m fine, listen I’m sat outside a coffee shop right now, I couldn't handle being in the house, me and Eddie had a fight, don't worry it’ll be ok but can you come pick me up?” 

“I mean yeah of course, but where's Eddie?” 

“I’m not actually sure, I think he’s in the apartment but more likely he's either texting and driving or running around looking for me. I just” you sigh, “I just don't want to see him right now, I’m texting him but can you please just come pick me up?” 

“Course babes, just send me your location and i’ll be right there”

“Thanks” 

You send off a pin on the map of where you are before you open up Eddie's text chat again. 

Roommate  🙄

I’m on 86th outside ABE but Robin is gonna come pick me up and were going to hers i think

Ur going to robins?

You dont want me to come pick you up?

I’m heading back to the apartment i can just pick up the van and go find u

Yeah I’m sure, I’m sorry baby but I just need some time to think before I talk about it

Got alot going on in my head, just need to figure it out first yk?

I promise I’m ok, were ok, i love you so much ok?

Ok princess, just update me yeah?

Yeah i will

You think maybe you could switch your live  location on snap or something? Or share it for like an hour? Just until youre at Robins

I just wanna know youre ok, itll give me peace of mind 

Ok 

*You started sharing live location*

Thank you baby, I love you so much❤️

I love you too ❤️

Robin came to pick you up within 15 minutes, letting you rant about your feelings the car ride home and offered to sit with you while you took a bath. She helped you come to the realisation that despite Eddie's flaws you couldn't help but love him indefinitely after the past two years where your bond had grown stronger than either you or Eddie had ever experienced with someone else. Although with minimal contact throughout the evening you finally managed to make sense of all the feelings, deciding what you needed was a proper conversation about the situation you had landed yourself in and probably a little time with some space in between you to mull over whatever the outcome of the discussion would be.  Texting Eddie you fell asleep content on Robin's couch. The soft worn green pillows enveloping you in a warm hug along with the teddy fleece blanket over the pair of forgotten sweats you'd left at Robin’s helping you drift off with ease. 

–

Thanks to the cancelled work trip you got the luxury of relaxing on monday, rolling out of bed -or couch more accurately- with a slight tinge in your back. Stretching with a loud yawn you unplugged your phone and wandered over to the bathroom, plopping down on the toilet to catch up with your missed notifications. The time read 10.43 am thanks to the daily alarm you switched off the day before. 

Roommate  🙄 4h ago

Hi sweetheart, just on my way to work but  wanted to say good morning  ❤️ more

Penis hater 🍆 2h ago

Saw you were still asleep so didnt want  to wake you, going to work now, help more

Snapchat

Mommy Steve sent you a snap

Stonerboy sent you a snap

Google maps 39 min ago

You stopped sharing location with  Eddiemunson@gmail.com

A few other random notifications took up the space on your screen before you opened up your phone, responding to Eddie first you wrote;

Roommate  🙄

Ok goodnight honey, sleep well, i love you

Good night ❤️hope you can sleep  without me haha

You know damn well I can't 🙄

Today 6.32

Hi sweetheart, just on my way to work but wanted to say good morning  ❤️ I love you so so much, I’m assuming since the trip was cancelled you get  today off anyway? Either way have a good day, will you be sleeping at home tonight?... I miss you x

Good morning <3 yeah got the  day off, just woke up, yeah i’ll be at home 2night, when do you get off? 

Think its good we have that talk  sooner rather than later

Knowing he was probably busy with his heavy workload at the auto shop you opened up Robins text and responded to that too;

Penis hater 🍆

Gtg, meeting starting

Aight see ya loser!

Bye assface!

Today 8.27

Saw you were still asleep so didnt want to wake you, at work now, help yourself to anything in the fridge but theres leftover pizza if you want that, house keys  are on the kitchen table, just post them through the letterbox when you leave dickhead ❤️❤️❤️

Thank u sm for letting me sleep here, rly robs i appreciate it. Will do!

No probs, always a pleasure to blast out my eardums to cover up your snoring when I’m trying to sleep

Excuse me bitch, I do not snore, if anything your whining and thrashing around in bed woke ME up!

Making me sound like Tina Belcher when you say that… 

That was in fact the intended effect

🖕whatever bro gtg, Steves gonna beat my ass if i extend my toilet break past 30 min

You know a normal toilet break is 5 min right??

Fuck off

Robin answered within seconds of your text, taking the first of many useless breaks to scroll her phone and annoy Steve at the coffee shop downtown. You chuckled at her last text before you began your own 30 minute session of scrolling your phone endlessly on the toilet. By the time 1pm rolled around you had munched on Robin's leftovers, cleaned up the couch, and answered some emails from work, hopping on an IndyGo bus and trampling up the stairs in the early afternoon. 

You had left the change of clothes in Robin's hamper to be left till the next time you crashed at her place and were aching to get out of yesterday's attire the second you stepped through the door. You felt relieved as the newly found state of the apartment greeted you, slightly heartwarmed too but quickly dismissed, your stubbornness not letting you appreciate the fact that Eddie had done a basic human task. The rest of the day was spent in relaxation, despite the bath you had yesterday you felt the opportunity for a selfcare spa day on your day off was too good to pass up. Eddie had texted you here and there throughout the day regretfully telling you he had to work through lunch and couldn't make a phone call but that he would be home latest 6 pm. You did feel regretful however when you thought of your words last night, or more specifically Eddie's words and your dismissal of them. His work had been really hectic recently. The neighbouring venue The Two Brothers Auto Shop had lacked customers over the summer and had been forced to shut down. Their regular customers had found their way over to Safe Haven Automotive where Eddie was employed and Eddie's workload had been almost doubled and it was undoubtedly taking a toll on him. 

You decided you would apologise later. 

-

A heavy sigh escaped your boyfriend's lips as he stepped over the threshold to your shared home, immediately dropping his bags on the floor and stretching his back, joints popping audibly with the movement. Upon hearing his arrival you sauntered out of the bedroom, with a shy and admittedly slightly awkward smile, his face broke into a wide sunshine smile as his gaze met yours “Hi” he bent down to unlace his boots as you leaned up against the kitchen island next to him, “Hi” your voice was soft when he straightened up again. Wanting to make sure there was no awkward tension you leaned up and pecked him on the lips, it was best if you were on moderately good terms, you hadn't had such a big fight with Eddie before, only the occasional argument, so the concept of having to talk the whole thing through was new to you. You were adamant on it going well and making sure the environment was relatively calm was the best way at making sure it went over smoothly. 

“Just gonna go have a shower and then we can talk yeah? I brought poké bowls” he picked up the paper bag from next to his bag as you nodded, beginning to unpack all the items as he made his way to the bathroom. Not long after he was freshly showered and changed, damp hair cascading over his shoulders as he sat down on the opposite side of the couch. Despite the topic of the evening you allowed yourself to admire his sleek hips leading down to a pair of grey sweatpants, scanning the tattoos littered over his torso in adoration and smiling as you inspected his face. Relaxed and slack, neutral with no tug of his plush pink lips, beads of water running down his forehead threatening to collect in the lush lashes of what you so lovingly liked to call his ‘baby cow eyes’. 

Once he was sat with an ankle pushed under his thigh connecting to the food limp on the floor with his can of san pellegrino opened on the table and a cardboard bowl of cool rice, salmon and an assortment of vegetables you began. “So, first and foremost I would like to apologise” Eddie hummed to assure you he was listening as he took a large spoonful of the summery goodness. “I’m sorry for shouting and storming off, I didn't mean to worry you, I was just like in panic mode or something. And I’m really sorry for some of the things I said” he swallowed down a gulp of his drink while you selected a mixture of chilli mayonnaise coated tofu, avocado and rice. Bringing it to your mouth with the supplied pair of chopsticks, it would always be funny to you how Eddie struggled and became frustrated with the pair of wooden sticks and opting for a spoon instead. 

“Ok well thank you sweetheart, I too would like to apologise, I really didn't mean to raise my voice or to invalidate your feelings,  jesus why does this sound so formal? Anyway, I promise I didn't plan for you to come home to all that or the mess, I had planned on cleaning up after work today. But I guess that's not much better cuz’ as you said, it shouldn't really have been that bad in the first place..” you could sense the strain in his voice at admitting his ultimately largest flaw, but you were grateful he did and that he put an effort into resolving this. Although you had a sneaking suspicion he either practised what he was going to say beforehand or hand a secondary source on how to address you. 

“About that, I think we both know what we did wrong, and maybe how to go about it differently in the future, yeah I do not like how formal this sounds either” the laugh that rumbled your chest eased a weight on Eddie's shoulders as well as invited him to join. “But I do think it's something that would be good on working on… and not just for my sake but yours too, like partly I don't really want to do most of the work around here-” “And you wont! I promise” you smiled at Eddie's interruption “but you're also kind of… scatterbrained? And I think maybe working on routines could benefit you. You know like having all your clothes and things ready in the morning, that way you don't have to run up and down from the parking lot because you forgot your keycard or your phone or something.”

Eddie hummed in acknowledgement of your words, it was clear he was thinking over the idea “I mean I could try, it's just you know difficult, I can’t keep track of everything and I forget and I think if I start a new routine I’m gonna forget that too.” There was a trace of shame in his tone as he accepted yet another one of his flaws. “Ok well first off, you need a calendar, either a paper one or your phone, I think your phone would be better though because that way its almost always on you and you can write down important dates like meetings the second you hear about them” he nodded as he listened to your suggestions “Secondly, building up routines like laying out your clothes and keys and stuff the evening before, or packing your bag” 

He frowned softly in between bites of his food, “Yeah but how am I even going to manage to stick to them long enough that they become the regular” this conversation seemed to be going much better than you had anticipated. You had of course hoped for the best but still wanted to be prepared in case another fight broke out but Eddie was properly listening to you, nevermind apologising but seemed willing to do something to change for the better. 

You smirked at him slightly evilly as you took another mouthful, “So, remember what I said last night” you had said a lot of things last night “About the sex?” a slight sneer spread over Eddie's features as he realised you might be considering sticking to your word. He was right. “So Robin had this idea that if we did that, it might give you some incentive.” he couldn't help the low groan of annoyance “Ok believe me, I am not just in this for the sex, but really?..” 

“I know you're not” you smiled happily, you knew that even before you’d said it “But it might motivate you to stick to your routines until, like you said, they become regular. Just until you become used to it” his head rolled back on his shoulders, trying but failing to suppress a whine, he didn't want your actual idea of him to be a man-child. You giggled softly at his reaction, there was indescribable pride settling in your shoulders at the desperation of wanting to be with you. “Ok well how long’s that gonna take?” he sat up again, placing his food down onto the table and taking another large gulp of the carbonated drink. 

“I dunno, we’ll just have to see I guess, maybe a few weeks?” you shrugged, “Weeks?!” his wide eyed stare caused for a burst of laughter from you, struggling to keep your food in your mouth, “It's up to you, how quickly you learn and how motivated you are to actually do this” 

“Oh i’m very fucking motivated”

“So you’ll do it?” 

“I will, on one condition”

“I’m listening” 

“I still get to kiss and hold you”

A wide smile cut over your face and you nodded “Ok deal”. The rest of the evening was spent eating your delicious meal and both going over arrangements as well as talking through feelings and solutions. It had been weighing on you ever since the original apology, you weren't sure if you wanted to address it or even accept it but judging by the honesty and will Eddie shared to improve you decided it was best to communicate about his too. 

“Ok so there was one thing I wanted to kind of talk about too” his hand reached for the remote control and paused the display of Rick and Morty on the old TV screen, looking down at the crown of your head where you sat leaned on his legs crossed at the calves, your back against his chest and head resting on his shoulder. “It doesn't really have much to do with you, more myself, but I dunno I thought it would be good for you to know or something” 

“I’m listening” he placed a kiss to your hair, inhaling the scent of the various products embedded in the fibres of each strand from your bath. “Well I don't mean this as any like attack on you or that I have any specific feelings towards you specifically about it” he had no idea what you were on about as his cheek preplaced his lips on your head, but he trusted you would explain. “I got kind of… scared… yesterday, when you got angry, and like I know i got angry too don't get me wrong” his cheek left you and in response you turned your head to face him, “It's just like, I know you would never you know do anything like that, or at least I hope” you chose to ignore the expression resting on his features and push through “But like you're still a man, and no matter how strong I am or whatever, men can still, or well they're capable… of… you know, doing quite alot” 

A sad pout tugged at his lips as he looked down at you “Baby, I am so sorry, I would never do anything like that but I should have thought about like the whole picture, with your past and all and yeah just the fact that I’m, yeah a man” the lamp next to the couch glinting in his eye made his expression all the more sincere, you smiled softly, “Thank you, I just thought you should know” the moment was so tender in the dim lighting of the room and nightfall fell behind the closed curtains of the windows, nothing more than a whisper needed to break the magical spell on Indianapolis. “Thank you for telling me baby” his kiss was equally as soft on your lips as his voice had been to your ears. 

Before pressing the button on the remote again you pointed at him “But just know if you ever hit me, I will be kicking you in the balls and reaching for my taser” Eddie chuckled as he grinned “A fair punishment” 

11 pm rolled around, punctuated by a wide yawn, you huffed a laugh as Eddie's pointer finger quickly prodded at the back of your throat, one of his regular habits he had when he saw you yawn. “Alright, I gotta be up at 5 tomorrow so I’m gonna head to bed” you stretched as you sat up, disgruntled by the loss of Eddie's warm embrace, “When do you start tomorrow?” he asked, copying your movements before gathering what was left of your meal. Your heart squeezed as you watched Eddie already picking up his new habit of cleaning up around the house, following him into the open kitchen you poured yourself a glass of water as Eddie placed the leftovers in the fridge and the rest in the trash. 

“Uh 7” you thought as he manoeuvred around you, “Alright well if you want I can drive you, just gonna have to stay later at work”

 “What? No that's ok, I’ll just take the bus”

“You sure? I don't mind taking you” 

“When would you be leaving otherwise?”

“Uh probably like today so 6.30”

“You texted me while driving??”

He closed the fridge and made his way to stand in front of you, hands resting loosely on your hips just below the arm you had crossed over your waist, the other holding the glass to your chest. “No I was in traffic” he chuckled before bending down to press a kiss to your lips. “Oh ok” you shrugged as he pulled away, raising your voice while you walked over to the bedroom to place your water down onto the bedside table “So when would you be home?”

“If I work through lunch hopefully 6 otherwise 7ish” he called from the bathroom, lathering up creamy toothpaste onto his brush. “Jesus christ hopefully this whole thing will die down soon” you pouted in sympathy as you slid in next to him, he shrugged “Eh, least I’m making some more money. Gonna buy you something pretty” he grinned before beginning his nightly routine. 

You rolled your eyes playfully, he'd already gotten the ‘I don't need you to buy me anything’ talk and was well used to it by now. “Ok well would you mind staying later if i came over for lunch?” you smiled. A gargled response came from around the green plastic dangling from his mouth while some white foam escaped his lips and dribbled down his smile line, you laughed at the view “Just answer later” your own response was muffled but only slightly as you spoke. 

He nodded and continued his vigorous attack on his teeth, something you often frowned upon telling him he'd damage his gums if he continued that way. He knew exactly what you were thinking when he was shot a disapproving glare through the mirror, he grinned wildly around his toothbrush, prompting even more foam to coat his chin, but to your satisfaction he slowed his movements to a gentle appropriate pace. 

On instinct you shot a hand out to hold his hair out of his face as he spat out the residue and washed out his mouth. Leaning over in front of you he rubbed his face on the towel to dry his face off, you almost toppled over backwards from the steep bend but Eddie was already at your rescue with an arm around your back. He slid back into his place and wrapped both arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder and watching your reflection in the mirror. “Lunch sounds good but I’m not letting you take the bus all the way across town, I’ll just pick something up along the way and we can sit in the breakroom” he placed a gentle kiss to your cheek before standing up to let you repeat Eddies actions of spitting, rinsing and drying. 

“Mm mm” you shook your head “Not the breakroom, we can just sit in my office” you answered Eddies look of question as you smoothed cool moisturiser over your face, “I can't be bothered listening to Brenda recount every single detail of the same trip we were both on” Eddie chuckled, warmth spreading through his body at the adorable wrinkle of your nose in disgust, “I mean seriously, ‘Oh my god did you hear Clarence joke? It was sooooo funny!’ like yes bro I was there, in the room. She’s recounting every single detail of her room, despite the fact that they’re all fucking identical, I swear soon she’ll be telling me about her shits in grave detail” the hearty laugh you witnessed in the mirror and felt against your shoulderblades had a genuinely happy smile dazzling your face. His happiness rubbed off on you. 

“Alright, no breakroom, got it” he chuckled and pulled away squeezing your asscheek before making his way out the door “Ap ap ap” your tsk had him turning around in confusion “No touching” you smirked, “What you said I could hold you?”

“Yeah hold me, not touch my ass, or boobs for that matter, and definitely no thighs unless its 100% wholesome”

“What, that was wholesome!” 

“Mmmmn was it?” he rolled his eyes before continuing his way towards the bedroom. Soon enough you joined him to see him pull his sweatpants off, “You know I was thinking” he looked up to meet your gaze, once again the small subtle action of him trying had your heart squeezing, he folded his sweatpants up and tossed them in a drawer in the closet so casually it amazed you he wasn't making a show of it to gain some praise. “Maybe you should sleep on the couch, what with the incentive and all” 

“What?” his face fell as he turned, “Yeah, more distance ya’ know?” his silence told you everything, “I’m kidding!” you laughed as he let out a loud sigh in relief. 

You laid notice to the fact that Eddie was folding up his coveralls, tossing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt next to the pile of various daily trinkets. The small action meant so much to you, it proved he was actually trying and it made you ache in all the best ways. Soon enough you were snuggled up under the covers with your head on his chest and dozing off.

–

Tuesday morning was much less stressful than any normal one and you sat on the bus listening to Eddie rant on the phone how big the difference had been after preparing the night before, you were completely sure he was sucking up a little bit but you let him go on before saying a goodbye when you got off the bus and made your way over to your office. You were also eternally grateful for his timely arrival just as Brenda made her way over to you with her lunchbox, “Oh I’m so sorry Brenda, Eddies here but I’ll see you later yeah?” ok maybe you were known as slightly bitchy or more accurately a complete bitch in the office but you really weren't in the mood to make idle conversation with the middle aged californian lady for a whole hour. 

“Hia!” you greeted with shining warmth as Eddie passed the front desk, subway bag in hand and an equally bright smile on his face. He pecked you on the lips before following you to your office, pulling his phone out to show the near two hour time slot in his calendar that read lunch with my beautiful girlfriend. You laughed as he explained he had already started with his work on a calendar. 

You managed to make it five minutes before a knock sounded at the door, answered with your breezy ‘come in!’ Michael frowned in confusion at your tone before spotting Eddie on the other side of your desk, “Oh hey Ed, uh here's those spreadsheets you asked for” he handed you a folder and waited patiently while you did a once over of the contents, smiling when he was dismissed. 

The first interaction of your disruptions was much cheerier than the other 6 who filtered into your office to ask for advice, hand over assignments and intending to go over the statistics of paid leave. “Jesus” Eddie marvelled once the door closed “They do this all the time?” he took the last bite of his sandwich before crumpling up the paper and tossing it into the bag. “Yup, all the time” you sighed in exasperation. “How the fuck do you get any work done?” he frowned, but softened into delight as he bit into his chocolate chip cookie. 

“I stay late” you shrugged, “Why do you think I work every other saturday and work 7 to 8 or 10pm? Or well 11” the self deprecating laugh you let out had Eddie's face painted in concern and sympathy while a tinge of annoyance showed in his eyes. “Can't you just like put up a sign saying do not disturb?” you shrugged again, taking a ship of your drink “I guess”

“I really think you should” 

Lunch passed and after what felt like an eternity you were jumping out of your skin at the sound of a loud honk next to you on the sidewalk. “Jesus fucking christ!” you shrieked when you saw Eddie's wide grin peep through the rolled down window as he leant over the centre console. He saved you from a 10 minute walk from the bus stop while chatting to you about your day. 

“We really have to stop getting takeout so much” you moaned through a mouthful of butter masala, the burst of flavours sending rhythmic waves of delight and calm through your body. “I know, but neither of us have the energy to cook so-” he shrugged “takeout it is”. 

He had skipped his ritual shower and opted for washing his hands before digging in but soon he was shucking his jeans off and scrolling his phone on the toilet. You knew instantly where the text was coming from when it came through, it was comical to see the three notifications on your phone alerting you that E.Munster had liked your instagram posts and then a grey rectangle at the top of your screen; 

Roommate  🙄 now

So I know we said no touching but like… 

Can I touch myself?...

Your laughter echoed throughout the apartment while you shouted “Nope!” your laughter doubled in volume when you heard a loud groan from the bathroom. 

Roommate  🙄

But I’m so horny….

Arent you literally on the toilet?

Not anymore, I'm about to have a shower

Ah well sorry baby, nooooope

Mean 

HAHAHAHAHAHA

You know, I feel like you posted that bikini pic on purpose

Who knows

…

What?

Are you jerking off????

Eddie!

No! 

Belive it or not I am very keen on making this process as short as possible

Ur just a tease

Thats all 

Good, yeah its fun, you . shouldnt try it tho

Hahaha

Maybe I should 

No, no thats ok

Once again you were snuggled up with Eddie in bed, revelling in the embrace of apple scented shampoo, charcoal body wash and something so uniquely Eddie. 

–

To your pleasure, your day had been peacefully quiet for the first time in a month, with multiple of your staff sat in meetings throughout the day you managed to get through your workload plus some extra missed invoices and orders and even got a head start on an upcoming project. Being an accountant director for Riley Hospital wasn't always the easiest or simplest job but it had its moments. Even more so when you found the receptionist Stephanie had refilled the French roast capsules for the coffee machine and made a spread of various pastries in the breakroom. You were on a high, having a great day, topping off the icing on the cake with the mouthwatering left overs from your dinner the night before. Sometimes, just sometimes, everything in life could work out and it left you with a bright smile on your lips as you left the building and made your way over to the bus. 

The glee seemed to radiate off you as Eddie broke into a happy grin, skin stretching taught over his muscles and leaving his cheeks aching when he was greeted by in his opinion ‘absolute shit music’ bouncing around the room from the google nest in the corner of the living room with you shaking your hips from side to side, the occasional attempt at twerking while you stirred the creme fraiche, bell pepper and halloumi pasta sauce in a pan. 

After a soothing shower nearly screaming along with the music of your ‘Main Girl’ playlist you had changed into a pair of black skin tight booty shorts framing your curves under an oversized Rammstein t-shirt draped over your torso, pulled down at the front to the tips of your thighs, the hem tucked in at the back of your shorts giving Eddie a delicious view while you moved about.

You screamed in horror jumping 3 feet into the air when you heard Eddies cheery “Hey” he burst out laughing as you clutched your chest in an attempt to even your breathing. While he untied his boots you made your way over to the couch to turn Ayesha Erotica’s Hands Up! down to a more respectable volume. “You seem to be in a good mood” he commented as he began washing his hands in the kitchen sink, “I am” you grinned while going back to your cooking “Budgeting and accounting were in meetings all day so I only had to deal with some of the payroll staff” you told him as he dried his hands and began emptying his pockets onto the kitchen island. “That's great” you couldn't see his smile but you didn't have to, it was for himself, his own quiet glory in your victory, happy and relieved for you. 

“Oh and guess what!” you turned to face him “I had so much free time today I caught up on everything!” Eddie gaped in shock and pride “And and and! I even got started with the Danaher project so guess who doesn't have to work on saturday!” you squealed while shimmying your shoulders in a victory dance. Eddie laughed as he noticed the natural shape of your boobs sway from side to side with the movement before looking you in the eye “That's awesome!” you proudly nodded at him with a chirpy “mhm!” 

“So we're celebrating with trash music?” he grinned as his hands slithered over your hips to hold at your waist, “Hm I was in a mood” you shrugged and stretched to peck his lips. “Well alright then, Steve sent some texts so I’m just gonna check them and then go wash my face, Imma’ shower after dinner” you nodded and turned back to the food while Eddie circled the kitchen island and bent over to rest his elbows on the marble countertop with his phone in his hands. 

He lied, Steve hadn't texted, in fact he hasn't talked to Steve since yesterday. He was undoubtedly excited about your small victory but the devil on his shoulder controlling part of his brain took over. He just needed one good luck at you before he scuttled off. He was going to be true to his word, no doubt about it, but he didn't mind getting a second to appreciate your figure as you swayed from side to side after instructing Google to turn the volume up. 

When he felt he’d gotten what he searched for he tore his eyes away from you before his body had a chance to act and prove this little celibacy period to be much harder than it already was. He made his way to the bathroom going through his regular motions of de-stressing from work. 

“So, just got a text from Gareth, shit that looks so good” he awed as he caught an eye on the table where you were sat scrolling on your phone. In reality he wasn't sure if he was talking about you or the pasta perfectly plated up on green ceramic, but it didn't matter because you smiled and that was enough to have him matching. “Baby thank you so much for cooking, it looks amazing” you smirked proudly as you put your phone down and began eating. “No problem, came home at 6 today so I had time” the casualness in your voice was betrayed by your excited face, almost saying can you believe that?! He chuckled before shaking his head as if to remember something “Right so anyway, Gareth can't make it to Hellfire tomorrow so were just gonna skip it this week” he explained as he too began digging in. 

The obnoxious moan he let out once the pasta came into contact with his mouth had you almost snorting out your gulp of coke. “Ok cool” you continued after swallowing the liquid back down, “You got any other plans for saturday then?” 

“Well I was thinking we could do something, are you busy?”

“Oh yeah that sounds great, I mean not much, I figured since I'm free I was gonna catch up on some chores so I was planning on going to Circle Centre around noon. I need a new skirt for work, something more casual, I found a super cute denim one at Lucky Brand and stockings, a new pair of sneakers from Journeys cuz’ mine are worn down” you began counting on your fingers “I wanna go check out Hot Topic, top up on some stuff at Bath and Bodyworks, do a foodshop, and a few other bits and bobs” Eddies jaw was slack and eyes wide as he gaped at you slightly, “Oh so not much then?” he shrugged jokingly, you grinned “You can come with me, we’ll get lunch and catch a movie” 

“Sure. Were you actually planning on lugging all that back here on the bus if I would have driven over to Jeff’s?” he asked in disbelief, “Yeah” you shrugged “Figured worst case I’d just shell out for an uber” 

Eddie insisted on cleaning up after dinner even though you told him it was ok, so you spent the time on the counter talking to him about his day while he loaded the dishwasher. Finally he straightened up a few minutes after you had left to do your skincare routine in the bathroom. “Uh is it okay if I shower?..” he cautioned as he peeped through the door, “Yeah why wouldn't it be?” you frowned “Cuz’ of the incentive or whatever” 

“Oh, yeah no it's fine, I’m not the one who needs the incentive so technically I can see you naked but you can’t see me” an evil smirk was directed towards him in the mirror as he shuffled past you into the small space, dropping a pair of clean boxers and his usual sweats onto the edge of the counter. He gave you a playful grimace of annoyance before pulling at the neck of his t-shirt, you thought nothing of it as he tossed it onto the toilet lid, instead focusing on making sure the mixture of serum on your face didn't drip too far. 

Your hand stopped mid motion as you rubbed it into your skin, your jaw dropped slightly as Eddie pulled his jeans and boxers down his thighs. It had always amazed you how Eddie still managed to appear big without even being hard, and it was definitely hitting you right between the thighs as you watched him in the mirror. Almost like a gut punch but instead it was.. A pussy punch?... Eddie wasn’t even a shower, he was a grower for sure, fucking enormous when he was actually aroused. It had taken you more than a normal amount of time to get used to him when you first started dating. 

He stepped out of the denim fabric and dropped them onto the t-shirt. You got the chance to admire him completely, thick muscly thighs covered in a light pattern of hair down to his equally muscly calves. A thick lump formed in your throat and you swallowed it dryly as he stood back up from pulling his socks off. Tattoos painted perfectly into his skin all along his sleek figure, only the beginning of your own private gallery destined to show up later in life. You eyed the shape of his hips, that v-muscle that always had your mouth watering, the soft trace of his abs on his abdomen, his shapely chest that you loved running your hands over. Each dent of where his muscles and joints formed, every single freckle and mole that has one time or another been kissed by you, running all the way from his shoulders to his wrists to match the smattering on his face. 

And god his face, that sharp yet somehow soft jaw that led down to his thick neck, his bulbous nose you not only enjoyed the feeling of pecking but when it tickled your clit as he tongued your hole with your thighs circling his head. Those soft almond eyes who had a tendency to shift between chocolate, gold and deep onyx in the right light, the same eyes that were shamelessly raking down your figure as of this moment. No inkling at your own ogling, you felt the urge to copy Eddie's movements as he shook his head to rid his thoughts. 

“Uh you're… dripping into the sink” he pointed vaguely to the drop of red solution on the white ceramic, “Oh” you mentally shook your head instead and quickly brought both hands up to your face to smear the product into your skin. Behind you Eddie turned and stepped into the shower pulling the curtain closed almost all the way, the sound of cold water hitting the equally cold floor of the tub was your que to hurry the fuck up before your knees buckled. 

The first thought that entered your head when you sat down on your side of the bed was about Eddie from the good lock you'd gotten of him before you left, he was inhabiting every corner of your mind. The shape of his back and the slope of his spine that you would have loved to run your fingers along. The best part? The shape of his ass as he leaned back to soak his face in the stream of water. 

Technically, technically the incentive rule didn’t apply to you. You could… take advantage of the time alone while Eddie was in the shower… but no it wasn't fair, if he had to do it you had to do it, you'd just have to force those dirty thoughts out of your head. But fuck was it hard to refrain from thinking about those broad palms gliding over the skin of your thighs, grasping desperately at your tits, your hips, your ass. Your own hands snaking through his curls, tugging harshly as his lips wrapped around your clit and he did one of his moves that always left you breathless and writhing, sucking harshly at your nub while his tongue worked up and down behind his lips. The feeling of his thighs pressing at your own, one arm on the mattress to prop himself up while the other led his cock to your opening, wrapping around your waist as you slowly felt his big, fat head, dribbling precome pressing at your entrance, and force himself into you. That delicious fucking feeling when the ridge of his head connecting to his shaft caught at the skin surrounding your sopping wet hole, suctioning him in before he bottomed out with an unbelievable loud groan. It didn't matter how many times you’d had sex, he would always sound as if he’d gone 50 years without a taste and finally got one. 

A tingle fluttered through your legs, its nest sitting low in your belly, tickling everything surrounding cunt. You managed to snap out of it just as you hear the pitter patter of water droplets slow to a halt, you took a deep grounding breath, you could do this, you just had to keep your mind on other things. This was a good idea right? Robin hadn't been off her rocker when she suggested it, right? 

No this was right, this was good, it was helping Eddie set routines for himself and it would make your life easier. Cleaning had always come as an automatic response to you, it was therapeutic to sort through random collections of things, to do laundry, wipe down every surface but with the added stress of your less than a year old promotion it had slowly crept up to being too much. Sneaking its way to push you over the edge and have a mental breakdown, probably more serious and destructive than the one a few days ago. Having Eddie helping out was going to be good, it might even help release only a tiny bit of tension in your shoulders through the workday. 

You shouldn't take it for granted, your life had imploded and shattered every single piece of you but you had built yourself back up slowly, gotten your shit together and taken nightly college classes while bussing tables and gotten yourself a degree. A degree that landed you a steady job and an even cushier promotion within less than two years, something not a lot of people could say they had managed. You were eternally grateful and privately very proud of yourself for not letting the world beat down on you and crush you to a pulp like it had so many other people. 

But you were similar to the rest of the public in the same way that work took it out of everyone. You could admit that begin a high ranking boss at the age of 25 was undoubtedly hard but you would never admit that sometimes it was just too fucking hard. There were so many stressful things added to the whirlwind of your mind but maybe not worrying about having to pick up toilet paper on your way home from work at 10 pm or obsessing over how to schedule cleaning the bathroom into your hectic day might make the whirlwind slow, maybe only slightly but it would still be an improvement. 

So no you weren't going to acknowledge those scenarios and feed into them, you were going to let the decision stay firmly planted in place. You could wait, you had gone 19 years without having to qualm those ideas and you sure as hell could go a few weeks, maybe months if you really set your mind to it. But you really, really hoped Eddie would get his shit together in time and not let it go that far. 

To distract yourself you decided changing into a loose threadbare tank top and baggy shorts and then scrolling Tiktok was the best suppressor of those not so innocent ideas. Wrapped up in the robotic voice of a reddit story while glued to the minecraft parkour on the bottom Eddie came into view in the doorframe. Arms stretched above his head he wrung his hair through the orange towel, squeezing out the access water before patting the droplets on his shoulders away. Every single small detail you noticed, when he hung his towel next to yours on the hooks on the back of the door instead of dropping it on the floor, when he tossed his previously worn clothes on the bed and began syphoning through them, picking out everything but his jeans and tossing them into the clothes hamper, folding the pants up and dropping them onto the already folded coveralls on the floor instead of leaving everything in a heap by his bedside table. How he disappeared into the kitchen to collect his pocket trinkets and collected them on the floor next to his work clothes and how he retrieved a fresh change from the closet to join the other clothes on the floor. 

“So what are we watching?” he leaned over to catch a glimpse of your screen “God those videos are always such bullshit” he chuckled as he dropped down onto the mattress, copying your stance and curling in on his side, palms pressed together under his cheek. “Mjeh good entertainment” you shrugged, locking your phone and tossing it on the space of pillow between you. He stretched forward and placed a peck on your lips before pulling back and gazing over your features. 

You never understood his thought process but he always insisted you were beautiful, even with your face in a light shine from the oily products and otherwise bare, with your pimple patches littered across your irritated skin, with your soon to be put in mouth guard. He always adored you, every single part of you, no matter good or bad and you in turn adored him for it as well as simply adored him for him and his own quirks, just as you were doing now. 

A hand reached out and you twisted one of his loose curls around your soft finger, “Always loved your curls” you whispered with a gentle smile, “Yeah? Shame you can only adore them in the mornings before they somehow just frizz during the day” he rolled his eyes in annoyance. “I told you to use curl cream babe, I even got you one” you lovingly sighed “Yeah well it's too much work if I gotta do it every single day” he frowned as you pulled away from him and dragged yourself out of the bed. He didn't get an answer to your sudden disappearance till he turned around and saw you rushing back with a white and pink tub and a hair brush in your hands. 

“Sit up” you instructed as you pulled his towel down and walked up to stand between his legs as he sat up at the edge of the bed, his hands instinctively went to touch your thighs, remembering last minute and opting to graze the backs of your calves. “You can touch my thighs” you giggled and his hands eagerly found the backs of your thighs as you draped the towel around his shoulders. 

It went unbeknownst to you how adamant Eddie was on keeping his eyes on yours but ultimately failed as his gaze travelled to your boobs, the position he was sat in and the fact that your old t-shirt was sagging with age did not play in his favour like it usually would. Your tits were right in his face as you led the brush through his wet strands, his hold on your thighs tightened immensely, “Is that wholesome?” you tutted while keeping your attention on his hair. He tore his gaze away from you and grinned devilishly “Yup” he popped the ‘p’ while you rolled your eyes. 

Shutting his eyes was a better idea, now this time the position he was in did play in his favour, the feeling of your hands working the gel through his hair soothed him and he relished in the tender moment. Humming with pleasure as you began scrunching his hair to form curls. “You know if you just used a claw clip instead it wouldn't be straightening your hair out and tugging on it like a hair tie does” he frowned slightly disgusted as he opened his eyes to look up a you, “Yeah sorry babe I’m willing to do a lot for you but a girly ass clip in my hair is not one of them” frowning you responded “It's not girly” “Well it's not metal. Name one metalhead or rockstar who wears a claw clip” his eyebrows raised at your silence “Exactly” 

“Whatever” you muttered but there was no trace of unamusement in your tone as you picked the tub up, holding it over his head you began placing it back on again but the sticky residue on your hands forced the lid out of your grasp and behind Eddies back, muttering a ‘shit’ you wiped your hands on Eddies towel covered shoulders before leaning forward and picking it up. 

Mind you it hadn't been intentional, simply a natural reflex but in the process your boobs squished right against Eddie's face as you caught hold of the pink plastic. You thought nothing of it as you screwed the top shut but Eddie did. Oh he definitely did, a deep red blush crept up onto his pale face as his eyes widened in horror. 

Something so simple, so small, literally accidental had Eddie's depraved body reacting in no time, it had only been 6 days since he last got to touch you in any sexual way (3 days of mock celibacy) but blood was rushing down south faster than he could say ‘boobs’. “Alright, I wanna watch Bob’s Burgers now” you announced while placing the product down on your vanity table and hanging his towel back up. He propped himself up against the headboard “Uh yeah ok” his voice was hoarse and strained as he spoke, prompting you to turn in concern while picking up his laptop. “You okay?” 

He cleared his throat and slumped in relief when his voice came out even “Yeah fine” panic rang through his body as he watched you climb up in front of him, intending to settle between his thighs. “What-what are you doing?” he stammered nervously, a confused incredulous frown was passed his way “Sitting down?” before he had a chance to protest you were sat upright between his thighs pressing your pointer finger to the touch ID of his macbook. 

Once you’d opened up a new tab and found the show you leaned back against his chest, he cringed while his whole body tensed “Are you hard?...” he instantly went into defence mode “In my defence, you shoved your tits in my face! Like right in my face” you laughed heartily as the theme song began to play “What these old things?” two hands squishing your tits together with a jiggle had a strained mixture between a whine, a cough and a laugh tumbling from his lips. 

“Okay seriously how are you still hard?” one episode had passed and you were still feeling the press of his hard-on at your back, “Do you even realise how you're sat right now?” 

“No?”

“No? Well let me paint you a mental picture, you're leaned against me, on my dick mind you and giving me the perfect view down your top”

With an eye roll you pulled your tank up “Happy?”

“Not really, I miss them” 

By the end of the night you were giggling at the banter passed between you and snuggled up to him again. 

– 

With each passing day Eddie's problems both became better and so much worse, he was getting used to his new routines and the calendar really was working wonders for him, he knew exactly when and what cars he was supposed to be working on and what meetings he had. It allowed him a better view of his day and even cut a whole useless hour off his work day! Both of you were eternally pleased and happily discussing it over lunch at the mall on the saturday. 

What he didn’t bring up however was that it was becoming increasingly harder to stay away from you, flouncing around in towels or minimal clothing, checking yourself in the full length mirror on the living room side of the bedroom door, twisting and turning to make sure those skin tight pencil skirts were perfect and buttoning up your blouses, swaying your hips to music while leant on the kitchen island working on whatever economy plan on thursday to ensure you could leave early on friday, stood up mind you, ass moving from side to side directly in view of Eddie on the couch. And now! Sat talking to him, excited as ever, purely innocent with those tight fitting jeans and that scooba-neck red top.

Everywhere he looked you were there unconsciously enticing him. He almost lost it when you gave him a spin from the dressing room showcasing each item. The long denim skirt you wanted for work, the so-called ‘casual’ blouse which absence of buttons gave him a show of the press of your tits in your bra, the sheer mesh dress, that other dress that just enhanced every single beloved curve of your body and to top it all off! that stupid skull corset top that made his eyes almost pop out of his sockets when you appeared from behind the curtain. It was all too much!

“So what movie did you book?” you look up from your Taco Bell quesadilla to find him quickly un-tensioning his screwed up expression, “Uh well there wasn't much choice and Nancy kept nagging me how much you would love Barbie so i booked us two tickets for that, starts at 4.30” 

“Nancy said I would like Barbie?” you laugh, “Something about the backstory or meaning behind it I can't remember” he shrugs mindlessly picking at his nachos, “Apparently it's not like, about Barbie? I didn't really understand what she meant she was being super unclear, I think she was drunk” you chuckle and shrug “Alright, but if its a girly love story I am leaving” 

“Yeah and I will be two steps behind you” he laughs. 

As you sit enveloped in the red and black satin and leather interior of Eddies done up van the both of you rant excitedly about the movie, passing back and forth on the advertising, the attention to detail and general direction and idea of the movie. Laughing about how out of place the two of you -especially him- looked in the theatre filled with pink frills and hearts on almost every single patron. 

–

He manages to make it till Tuesday -a shocking 12 days- until he finally snaps. “What is that?” his eyes bulge from his spot on the bed, head propped up on an arm behind his head with his ankles crossed. Lounging in his Korn t-shirt and his regular grey sweats scrolling through Twitter (you and he both refused to call it ‘X’). You turn in the midst of shucking your skirt down your legs, stepping out of it and folding it on the bed you ask “What?” you frown confused as you peel the nylon tights off too. Deep blood red lace with elastic bands crisscrossed everywhere coming into view. “The underwear” he eyes are wide, hand gesturing to your body, phone completely forgotten. 

“Oh, well I had an interview with the vice president of Danaher today” if possible his eyes grow even wider, “I’m sorry?” you roll your eyes at the idea that popped up in his head “I wanted to wear something sexy, ap ap before you start, it was for confidence” you tut and  hold a finger out to him before beginning to unbutton your blouse. “Ah, thanks for the clarification, we would have been having a way worse situation on our hands than last sunday right now otherwise” you roll your eyes again. “Ok but why is wearing sexy underwear for confidence?” confusion shows in his face before he goes white as a ghost at the matching lacy blood red bra underneath your thin under-vest. 

He barely manages to register as you begin to explain “Well surprisingly enough you're not the only one who likes it, makes me feel sexy …” your words go in one ear and out the other as you begin busying yourself with hanging your clothes up, with your back to him his eyes rake over your figure. The soft slope of your shoulders, the shapes of your back, the meat of your hips down to the round fat of your ass, delicate lace nestled between your cheeks, your doughy thighs, down to your smooth calves and  ‘no show’ socked feet. He always used to giggle at how funny the socks looked, like ballerina slippers, not covering anything insisting they were silly when you explained they're so they don't show under your heels, he wasn't saying anything about them now, in fact they weren't even in his line of view. 

Now his throat was closing up, a stone planting heavily in the pit of his stomach and all blood draining from his brain, all rushing south at the view of you in action, body moving gracefully across the fluffy rug on the floor while talking a mile a minute about your meeting. He couldn't even find it in himself to feel guilty for not listening, the cogwheels in his brain stopped turning long before he crudely adjusted himself in his boxers, the electricity in his most vital organ powered out, he was starstruck, the only things working in his body were his eyes which were following you every move and, his dick. Within seconds he was feeling the throb and ache in his groin, desperate to touch you, touch himself, anything to just give him some sort of release. 

Everything set in motion so fast he felt as though he was experiencing motion sickness, the view of you leaning up to grab your towel ripped him violently out of his trace. “Where are you going?” your huffed amused with a soft frown “I just said I was going for a shower”. He scrambled quickly from his lounging on the bed, knocking his phone to the floor in the process but paying no mind to it as he desperately tried to come up with a reason for you to stay. “You look sexy!” he blurted it out and immediately cringed at his own inability to just be smooth. You huffed a laugh again while your expression remained the same “Thanks?” 

“Uh… uh… dinner!” could he stop just blurting things out?? Jesus christ. “Uh dinner, what-what do you want for dinner?” 

“Oh, I was thinking we could either order pizza or see what we have at home, do some rustle up, cuz’ we really gotta stop eating takeout” you laughed and -much to Eddie's pleasure- began stepping back towards him. “Yeah yeah we could order pizza” he nodded vigorously, “Really don’t wanna eat healthy do you?” the laughter had Eddie's desperation rising through the roof, the sound like music to his ears. “Nope” he felt like his skin was on fire as you stood right in front of him. 

“Alright well can you order my usual and I'll hop in the shower” his brain was working a mile a minute to prolong your stay and therefore his reciprocation of your kiss was utterly mindless as you bent down to peck him goodbye. “Or we could watch a movie?” before you had a chance to step away his arms were wrapping your thighs in a hug, almost causing you to buckle into him. “We need to eat babe” 

“No I mean instead of the shower” 

“I need a shower too” 

“No you don’t” your frown prompted his odd behaviour, he stretched up awkwardly on his feet to lift up your arm taking a whiff of your armpit he went “See? Your fine” your arm snapped back to your side as Eddie fell back down onto the bed, “Ok, what is going on?” he searched for words in the puddle of sludge that was currently his brain, clearly in thought as his eyebrows furrow in consideration. “Are you ok?” your frown prompts the sludge to just spew out of his mouth, no thought beforehand just desperate for you “Ok listen I’ve been like really good with the routine and stuff, like it's been almost two weeks and I've kept it up everyday, yeah? So-” 

You cut him off “Technically it's been 10 days” he was quick to interrupt you instead, “Either way I’ve been holding up my end of the bargain and I’ve really really tried to enforce the things you suggested and I-I think I’ve been doing really good! So like I think we should quit with the incentive because its worked and now I know what to do and I’ve improved and also like we haven’t had sex in nearly two weeks and you walking around in those work skirts and short shorts really isn’t helping because like I can’t even jerk off and I’m so fucking horny all the time because you always looks so beautiful and so fucking hot like you don’t even have to do anything and you still make me hard and I can’t do anything about it, like I can’t even let myself think about it because then I’m gonna get like actually, properly, really, really fucking hard and then- then I know I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. But like I promised you and I really want you to trust me and that was a part of the deal and its just really important to me that you-” 

“Ok jesus dude, chill, take a breath” you prompt, making a show of a big inhale as he does. “I just-” “SHHHH” you hush desperately and press a finger to his lips to stop him from rambling again. “You’ve really tried?” he nods viciously “And you promise you're going to continue with the calendar, the packing, replacing the bag when you take out the garbage, capping the toothpaste, throwing away receipts, taking your hair out the drain, drying the floor after a shower, all that?” 

“I promise.”

You eye him for a second, scanning for any insincerity in his face but you come up short, “Ok, yes we can have sex again” you smile as his face breaks out in pure excitement, just like a child promised candy “Thank god” he breathes, immediately leaning in and trailing kisses up your stomach “Wait, now?” his expression as he looks up at you is an awkward mix between complete and utter desperation, humiliation and hopeful questioning, begging for you to say yes, “I mean… only if you want to” you pout slightly at him “I gotta’ shower though” his face falls somewhat “You can shower after?” he can't decipher all the emotions coursing through him but he needs you to understand: “I don't want to pressure you, I totally understand if you need time or if you're not in the mood or whatever” 

His hands begin to rub up and down your thighs in wholesome comfort before your face finally shifts “What are you stupid?” before he has time to even open his mouth to respond your towel is dropped to the floor and you're pouncing on him. Knocking him back you straddle his thighs while desperate kisses are exchanged, the first one knocking the wind out of him. 

Arms wrap around his neck, one hand making its way through his relatively organised curls -thanks to the new routine of running curl cream through them-. His hands find purchase on your hips before one snakes its way to grab hungrily at the meat of your ass, moaning into the kiss as you shift against him. He’s quick to roll you over onto your back, your foot making contact with the bedside lamp and knocking it over violently, neither of you even flinch at the sound of breaking glass and neither of you definitely don't make an effort to pay any attention to it. His hips find comfort bracketed between yours, strong hands roam your body in ravenousness, gripping, squeezing, palming at anything he can get his hands on, the side of your ass he can reach between your body and the comforter, your thighs, your hips, your breasts, your shoulders, literally anything. 

Yearning to just get his hands on you, the spread of your thighs allows your panties to bury between your folds making the roll of Eddie's hips cause for a delicious feeling of relief to the impending ache that suddenly appeared. In all seriousness it had been there since the first day away from him, slowly building and residing in the shadows just as a hungry beast, ripping away from its nest to lavish in the face of a delectable treat. Your own specific beast's food of choice; Edward Munson. 

He pulls away from you to rip his shirt over his head, this time not giving a flying fuck about putting it in its correct place and blindly throwing it out of his way, another loud disturbance goes unnoticed by the both of you as it catches onto your jewellery stand and it tumbles to the floor. His hand is back on its rightful place on your hip while the other cups your cheek, the tender touch not in chorus with the feverish kisses laced with desire. To your short lived dismay his lips leave you but within the matter of milliseconds they’re pressing fervent kisses down the side of your neck. Each touch of his lips like hot fire stroking the thirst of the embers embedded within you. 

Desperate whimpers sound through the room when pain strikes some of his kisses, smoothing his tongue over the flecks of deep purple and red threatening to bruise. His hips find a tempestuous pace grinding against yours, his concealed cock forcing angrily at your increasingly wet cunt, his large head, which, you've admittedly thought about a lot, catches on your clit, teasing a whine from your throat at the action. 

Every harsh press of his plump lips against the skin of your chest was addicting to him, the simplicity of just feeling you flush against him was like ambrosia the gods had promised. Each roll of his hips laced with unfiltered and raw desire, not even nearing the desire of appeasing the burning fire nestled between your thighs. His hand coming down to hold onto your other hip gripping you furiously in rhythm with his other, you would no doubt have equally as harsh if not more deep bruising than the work of art on the column of your throat and descending, 10 equally dark marks would be appearing within no time, all for you to remember his desperation for the days to come. 

Panting you manage to prop yourself up on your elbows while Eddie makes his descent down your stomach, thumbs digging into your pudge just as his lips. You breathe heavily through your sentence “As much as I love this baby I wanna do it properly” all he needs to do in response is stand up to encourage you to hoist yourself up to lay your head on the soft pillows. You giggle as he places a hand on the mattress and jumps up, landing to straddle your thighs, not even catching his breath before going back to pressing his lips against yours. 

His next action has you bursting into a fit of giggles, he reluctantly pulls away from you before announcing to the room “Hey Google! Play my playlist Smexy time ooh ooh” he grins down at you, her response of playing the request forgotten with the hunch of his back as he sits back on your thighs -careful to not crush you- and captures your lips once again. 

When your hands move behind your back to unhook your bra he makes quick work of grasping onto your wrists, “Can you keep this on?” he breathes against your lips before you nod. You squeal when he rips the cups down with no caution, letting your tits spill out. If there had been any sort of breeze in the room you wouldn't have even had the chance for your newly exposed flesh to experience it before his hands are on you. 

Between a mess of sloppy, hungry kisses you manage to breathe out “Need to get my hands on you” a smaller set of hands push at his shoulders, as he sits up a heavy pant plays in your ears while you pull at his thighs, he manages to shuffle further up your legs but having no chance to settle before your fingers are dipping into the hem of his sweats and boxers. A breathy laugh prompts his own as his cock bounces up to slap his stomach, catching your chin on the way before falling back down again. The tip of his cock nudging your chin prompting you to pull away slightly. 

Too eager and with too much yearning burning the insides of your body to make a joke or even tease him with your tongue you make quick work to wrap a hand around him, pumping with the pace of your mouth which lips immediately wrap around his tip, one quick suction before swallowing down half his length. The continuous dribble of precum coats your tongue and you hum at the taste of it. The voluminous groan that rips from his chest feeds and tames the fire within you, boosting your ego as it is unrelenting. “Fuck, feels so good” he all but whimpers at the feeling of relief after a steady build of tension in his body form the past two weeks.

You moan around him at his praise but that only spurs on his salacious mix of whines and whimpers, his head falls from the weakness in his neck, all strength currently being sucked out of him, he manages to catch himself with a hand curling around the headboard, his other quickly finding your exposed breast and palming at it with dexterity. “You don't know what you do to me” the absence of oxygen in his voice has the roaring fire in your cunt threatening to burst at even the slightest touch of friction. 

The coating, hot arousal seeps from your hole allowing your folds to glide against each other as you plant one foot firmly on the bed and make work to rub your thighs together. The fabric of your panties bunching around your clit causes whines to vibrate around Eddie's cock, sending shudders through his body as he holds onto the headboard in a deathgrip. Even the hint of friction at your clit isn't enough to relieve you of your searing ache, if anything it spurs it on. The frustration at not being able to soothe the beast has you sucking and squeezing harder at his shaft, the hand rips away from your tit to plant itself against your scalp, the strength with which he holds onto your hair threatens to pull each strand out right at the root. 

It takes everything in him to pull away from you and in turn pull your stubborn ass off him, you whine defiantly at the loss of contact, looking up at him with an angry frown. “Don’t be a brat” he breathes “I cant -fuck- I wont last” you jut your chin out in an annoyed are you kidding me? as his hand pulls away from your hair to push his own away from his face. “I really do not care, we can just go again” your hand is already wrapping around the midriff of his cock, trying not to tug too hard but desperate to get him back into your mouth. “Wait wait!” he calls “Whaaaat?” you whine, hand releasing him and smoothing up and down his thighs “Please baby, just need your cum” your words have his eyes rolling to the back fo his head with a “Fucking christ” 

“Just gotta-” he trails off, replacing your hand with his around the very base of his cock, he arches his back to move his hips closer to you. A self assured, evil laugh bubbles from his chest as he lines his cock up to the bottom of your chin, admiring the view as his tip reaches just past your hairline. You make a show of rolling your eyes at his massive sexual ego, struggling to catch his gaze due to his massive part obscuring your view you voice with exasperation “Are you done?” he hums his approval, the sound giving you the all clear to very eagerly and very quickly wrap your hand around him and bring him back into your mouth. “Geez so impatient- oh FUUUUUCK” he doubles over again when he feels your fingers graze his sack. 

You hold them in your hand consciously making sure to massage more gently than the number you're doing on the rest of him. Lude slurping noises echo throughout the room as you bob back and forth trying to take him as deep as possible while still maintaining your breath. “Shiiiit” the deep whine rings louder than the shlick of spit and precum, and you take it as your que to see really how far you can go before he's pushed over the edge. You slide down slightly on the bed and open your throat up for him, forcing yourself as far towards the dark thatch of curls at his base. He actually screams when he experiences the tight press of the inside of your throat around his head, it seems the bruises you'd be bearing tomorrow wouldn’t only be on the outside. 

You reach for the hand which had previously found purchase on your shoulder, releasing him as you gag loudly, spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth, you pull off him to secure his head in the valve of your mouth, clearing your airways as you guide his hand to the back of your head. “F-fucking-” he heaves “Unreal” you press at his hand to give him the hint before taking a very deep breath and once your being forced to take him deeper again your hand grasps onto his thigh. 

It wasn't something you did a lot but then again neither was the deep deep throating so you slid your hand up to one of the globes of his ass and gave him a firm squeeze. The touch sent his hips bucking away from you on instinct, forcing his cock even deeper down into your throat. Your head hit the headboard, cushioned by his hand and allowed him to force himself so far down your throat that your nose was being tickled by the black curls at his base. God you were so glad you didnt have an upchuck reflex at the moment. “Mother fucker! SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT I’M GONNA FUCKING CUM!” you would definitely have laughed if you were able to, the volume of his voice would no doubt be disturbing multiple neighbours. 

The unfortunate thing about this position, at the moment, was that you didn't get to taste or even feel the thick, heavy, hurt spurts of cum that shot down your throat. You sensed he had completely unloaded when his cock twitched and you scrambled to force his hips away from you, he pulled away and out of you equally as fast, if not faster. As you gasped a loud inhale Eddie fell back onto the bed, panting heavily and completely out of it. Your hand clutched at your throat at the pain beginning to settle inside, with an incredibly hoarse voice you managed to heave the words “Need huuuuuuuuhhhhh water”. 

Despite every single limb in his body being completely slack and feeling like noodles and despite the fact that he was still only seeing white he registered the words and fell onto the floor as he rushed to get out of bed. Dick slowly softening he ran out of the room, awkwardly pulling up his pants and retrieved two bottles of water from the fridge, water sloshed over the floor as he unscrewed the cap in movement, spilling some over your torso as he handed it to you. Anxiety enveloped him in a bone crushing hug as he watched you chug down the whole bottle of water, already signalling for Eddie to open up the next one before you finished the first one. 

Dread joined the anxiety as you panted heavily before chugging the second one. His whole body relaxed however when you threw the bottle away and gave him a thumbs up while your head rolled forward and then back to splay you across the head of the bed. “Oh thank god” he clutched his heart as he sat down next to you, capturing your hand he rubbed soothing circles into the back of your palm “Are you ok?” 

Without opening your eyes you managed a weak “Why is your dick so fucking big?”

“Jesus Christ” he laughed at your unserious response before sobering up and gently forcing your head to face him, your eyes slowly fluttered open to find his concerned expression “Really though are you ok?” 

“Yes I’m fine” you waved him off before he wrapped both arms around you and scooted further down in the bed, holding you to his chest. “I’ll go run you a bath and call the pizza place, yeah? Or maybe soup would be better” your head pulled away from his chest, you may have taken a toll on your breathing for a while but your breathing was back to normal and besides the sting in your throat you felt perfectly fine. “Excuse me where's my earth shattering orgasm?” he frowned down at you “What?” 

“You're not gonna get that and just walk away without payment” you snarked in faux annoyance, “Are-are you sure?...”

“Equality bitch” he laughed at your smug grin, pushing gently at your shoulder to get you to lie back down, just as he was about to open his mouth you held your hand out to silence him “If you ask me one more time if I’m sure I promise you I will be sleeping at Robins tonight” he laughed and nodded “Understood” before crawling over you to press a kiss to your lips. “Two things” Eddie raised his eyebrows expectantly as he pulled away from you “Take your pants off, I don’t wanna be the only one naked here, and please skip all the foreplay I’m really fucking horny” he laughed again at your directness but obliged. 

While mindlessly getting comfortable in bed and settling against the pillows you indulged in watching the show of Eddie pulling his sweats down, once again those strong legs were all for you to mentally devour. Once he stood back up you lay notice to the twitch of his cock as his eyes raked down your figure, soft and lax on the soft cotton, skin and fat alike in relaxation in front of him, despite the previous strong orgasm his body was once again showing off his affection and arousal, this time in less of a betrayal. 

Hungry eyes found yours as he manoeuvred himself to bend your knees and sit by your feet. The aforementioned black swam in his eyes, darkened with the desire of getting to please his woman. Callused fingers smoothed up your calves to knead your doughy thighs, “Oh wait” you crunched your stomach to elevate your shoulders and unclasp the awkwardly fitted bra, sighing loudly in relief at the loss of fabric digging into your skin, all he did was grin as your breasts spilled out into their natural state and gently pried your legs open. 

His middle finger ran up the soaked lace nestled between your folds, “Hey, dickwad, I said no foreplay” he only laughed but decided to comply, moving onto his stomach he moved your panties to the side, the feeling of his finger running over your slick folds at the action had you humming in pleasure. His hands wrapped around the backs of your thighs and within no time, sweet fucking relief, finally after what seemed like forever the roaring fire was soothed to a stable flame. His warm tongue ran up your folds causing a shiver to travel throughout your body before he circled the tip over your clit. 

An unnaturally loud whimper rumbled through your throat at the action and soon enough a scrumptious mixture of broad licks, flicks and circles were directed at your clit. Eddie groaned in satisfaction at the taste of you, his grip tightening to pull you closer to his face. Breathless swares and whines were replaced with loud obscenities and near pornographic moans when he finally did what you loved the most, his lips wrapped around the sopping hood of your clit only a moment before a strong tongue flicked up and down on the unexposed skin of your hood. With two years of being head over heels for this man both Eddie and you had mastered the art of not making the sensations of his muscle raw on the bundle of nerves more pleasure than overstimulation, however the action never ceased to send your body in vicious twitches and shakes. 

The flame had been controlled but now it was safely growing in strength and size. Squeezing at every part of your lower belly while steadily increasing. 

Each delicious sound that sounded about the room was muffled when your thighs clasped around Eddie's head, plush skin plastering over his ears, but this way he could feel the sounds echoing in his head through the contact. His lips unwrapped and a sweet kittenlick was rewarded to your clit, his head moved and before you knew it his tongue was tracing the entrance to your hole, once he found his place you felt that same bulbous nose press against your clit, a moan ripped through you and your hips began squirming for friction against him in sync with the strong thrusts of his tongue into you. 

The feeling of such a sensitive nervous system rubbing against the firm skin and natural oils of his nose was like lying down after a non-stop 10 hour speed walk, fully pleasuring your body in more vicious ways than anything else could do.

You were so enraptured by every sensation that you didn't even notice his right hand leave your skin before two fingers forced through your opening. He gave you a second before his tongue found your clit again for a sugary sweet kiss, his eyes found yours as he began pumping his fingers in and out of you. The hand splayed under your breasts found itself in a similar position as the other, grasping onto the sheets, tugging and disrupting the peace of the smooth covers. 

Your second favourite move Eddie did came next, his fingers stilled and began curling inside you in that classic ‘come hither’ motion, his tongue snaked its way to force above his fingers as deep as he could, working furiously to add as much pressure to the slick, spongy wall of your cunt. Massaging the flesh in line with your pussy, he had to fight a wicked grin when his nose came in contact with your clit again and you immediately began grinding against it. 

The hot burning fire was turning blue, angry and full of piping hot rage, raising your body temperature and emitting a light sheen of sweat over your skin. With each press of the pads of his fingers against you, each stroke of his tongue and each drag of your clit against his nose it grew stronger and stronger, no longer resting in the pit of your stomach but spreading to your thighs and chest. With every passing second it grew and grew until its fiery licks were targeting your whole body. Every muscle tensing, fingers and does curling to grip with immense strength, lungs desperately breathing for all consuming air, neck stretching taught with the writhe of your head against the pillows and eyes strained to roll back and find your lost mind at the back of your head. 

Each second, each stroke, each breath, squeeze, curl, strain sent you careening over the edge of the highest peaks of the rocky mountains of Gondor, the fall being stretching to 30 seconds while you writhed, tensed, squeezed and panted. Dizzying metallic rainbows pulsed in waves behind your eyelids before they softened with the landing. Chest rising up and down while pained whimpers of intense overstimulation had Eddie smirking wickedly when he pulled away from you. Nothing in the world could have the strong enough impact to pull you out of your trance from the orgasm, and certainly not the feeling of Eddie slowly pulling your panties down your legs before collapsing down to lay next to you, catching his own breath. 

His hand slithered over your side as he manoeuvred you to snuggle your back to his chest, his grin was ever glowing as he heard your consistent panting, his soft laugh rumbling in his chest and sending vibrations through your body. As you lay there in silence, slowly beginning to catch your breath you soak up the moment, You Belong To Me by Cat Pierce echos softly throughout the room while callused finger travel gently up and down your hip. You can't help the bubbling fire beginning to gather warmth as his touch stretches further, squeezing your thigh before going back up to your hip. 

It grows in heat and quantity as the moment continues, the prickly tones and raspy voice of Cat Pierce making the feeling captivating. Eddie's soft hands enrapture your senses and boast the flames within you, slowly you move in his grasp and turn to face him, deep brown eyes find yours as he looks down at you, his eyes scan your features in utmost adoration. He captures your lips in a passionate yet gentle kiss which has you sighing against him, your fingers rake through his curls as his hand grips your hip to hold you close to him while your lips move rhythmically together, completely in sync the plush pink flesh meets your own in time with your body's movements. 

Hips slowly moving against each other he makes his way on top of you, Love Surrounds You by Ramsey makes the moment all the more desperate, passionate, sexy. Hands roam the surface of each other's skin in desperation, begging to be closer, to feel each other in the way only the two of you could. 

Without ever leaving the caress of your lips Eddies hand slinks between the two of you to wrap around his base as he lifts off of you. In union you sigh loudly as his head pushes past the entrance to your dripping walls. In a well deserved slow pace he thrusts in and out of you, attaching himself to the incredibly intimate moment, in, and out, in, and out, he listens to your shaky breaths and removes his lips from yours, staring down at you as your eyes close in pleasure. 

His arms encase you and hold your torso close to his as his lips begin a trail down the side of your neck and over the expanse of your shoulder, “I” kiss “am” kiss “infatuated” kiss “With you” he sighs against the softness of your skin as you shudder. “Say it again” your whisper only barely reaches his ears but he catches it and pulls away, his eyes find yours again and you watches the gold ambers of chocolate and almond swim in the orbs of his iris, “I’m fucking infatuated with you” the gentle moan is unexpected but welcomed with another deep kiss to your lips. 

As your digits pull at his roots his hips snap against you, his thrusts building harsher and harsher “You don't know what you do to me” heavy pants fill the room as his body works against yours in an altogether delicious movement. “With this fucking body, all for me” he pants before his kisses begin to make their way all over your chest, up and down your neck, over your face, anywhere he can reach. “So beautiful, so sexy, all the time. You are divine” 

“Each breath you take is like a breath of my own, your existence fuels mine” his words ring in your ears like a loud powerful gong, “Something created this prepossessing creature that you are and I don't know what it is but it was definitely not a human responsible. Something wholly, ungodly and out of world crafted your pretty face, carved each curve of your body and wove your intricate personality like fine silk and gifted it onto me and I will spend my lifetime praying to whoever it was that they never take you away from me, because I’m selfish baby, I want you all to myself, I need you all to myself.”

The stretch of his cock and the drag of it along your walls accompanied by such powerful words strengthened with his touch all over your body had your head spinning, your eyes fluttering closed as you felt as though your body was falling into another dimension, backwards, falling, falling. You could see it, the magical flavours of the universe, colours flashing by in a chase, hypnotising you.

Eddie's hips sped up and his hold on you tightened, he didn't even have to ask, he knew. He knew you were on the edge, he could feel your body beginning to vibrate as your breath began to pitch and loud moans drowned the music out. His own breath was heavy and constant, panting heavily before groans took over. 

An explosion ripped through you as hot spurts of cum painted your walls and you screamed.

For nearly an hour you lay there, entwined in the sheets and wrapped up in strong arms, whispering sweet nothings to each other before you drifted off. 

[emlovslennon]

omgg last night I dreamed about supeeer cute soft dom george being very affectionate and giving making love to reader making her forget all her insecurities whispering in her ear a lot of worship, it's my first request and don't speak English very well but I'm here hehe love ya!

GUYS IM ALIVE HOLY FUCK BALLS !!! Anyway HEHEHHEHE evil laughter back to my mischievousness (mental illness). Also I LOVE YOU TOO

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Era: 1965 cuz i feel like it

Audible moan.

-

You had been feeling extremely insecure ever since you got back from the opening of the the Beatles new movie, “Help!” You saw how in the newspapers they were saying incredibly cruel things about you, especially about how tight your black dress was when you wore it to the premiere. It was, “Name the Beatles wife with the worst taste?” Or “That dress certainly doesn’t look flattering on her!” Like it was some joke. You felt tears brim your eyes just thinking about it. You’d constantly look in the mirror and pinch at your stomach and thighs, you just couldn’t understand why you couldn’t be as beautiful as Jane or Maureen or Cynthia.

“Love, I’m back! Love? What’s wrong?” George said, he had just gotten back from a meeting about an upcoming album, so he unfortunately couldn’t take you along since it was a private meeting, not a public one. You were laying on your shared bed crying, with a newspaper at your side. The one that completely wrecked your self esteem. George caught on and picked up, in complete anger, he ripped the newspaper up and threw it in the trash.

“Absolute bloody rubbish! I hate those damn newspapers, y/n, come ‘ere love.” He said, quite angry, but gentle once he called your name. He couldn’t believe someone could say that about his wife. He thought you were the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. How could anyone not agree? They must be blind.

“Love, don’t listen to those bloody bastards, you are the most beautiful and lovely woman I ever laid eyes and have ever met. If they don’t believe that, then they must not have eyes.” He whispers in your ear, playing with your hair. Your tears at this point subsided and you looked up at him, he gave you a grin and kissed your forehead. You know this probably wasn’t the best timing, but you just couldn’t resist when he looks at you with nothing but pure love in his eyes.

“George, could you maybe show me how beautiful I am?” You say quietly, George winks at you in a joking manner and wiggles his eyebrows which make you giggle. George slowly positioned you to get you to lay on your back while he slowly got on top of you.

“I mean it when I say you look stunning in anything.” He whispers, playing with the hem of your black night gown, it was short and only went down to almost the end of your inner thighs. He looked at you for permission and you nodded, as he slowly lifted up your night gown, leaving completely exposed. You usually didn’t bother with under garments when you were going to sleep, you just didn’t feel the need for it.

“You amaze me every time, y’know that?” He praised, as his hands went to your breasts as he pulled you into a passionate kiss, leaving you breathless. George lifted himself up to take off his black long sleeve shirt and the pair of black pants he wore with it, as he went back down to kiss your neck, he hand slowly wandered down to your core, lightly rubbing causing you to whimper. George grinned at the sound, George loved nothing more than when you made noises for him, he doesn’t even really care when it comes to him getting off it’s just as long as you do he’s good.

“Can I?” He asks, his fingers nearing and circling your hole, you nod frantically as he giggles at your reaction, he slowly inserts two fingers into you. You bite your lip and throw your head back into the pillows with the intrusion. But you couldn’t lie, his fingers do wonders. He slowly thrusts them in and out as he watches you whimper and moan, he usually never goes fast unless you tell him to, he’s just never really been that kind of person. Whereas someone like John is the complete opposite.

“F-faster, George!” You moan out, causing George to kiss and suck on your neck harder than he did before as he went faster, your juices starting to seep down to the sheets as the noises coming from your core begin to echo through out the room. You felt the tightness and heat in your belly about to burst and you knew that only meant one thing.

“George-I’m-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence as you felt as if you were sitting stars as your orgasm hit. George never wanted to admit it, but he absolutely adored when you orgasm your a shaking and moaning mess for him, you look absolutely wrecked just from his fingers.

“Are you ready? Do you need a minute?” He asks, one thing to note about George, is that he is huge on consent, he would never, ever, do something that you didn’t like or something that he thought could hurt you. It would break him into a million pieces if that happened.

“Yes, please!” You say shakily, George nods as he kissed your forehead, slowly lining himself up and entering you.

“You’re always so good for me, always. No one could ever compare.” He whispers lovingly, kissing your earlobe as he slowly thrusts in and out of you.

“Your noises are to die for, you are to die for, i can’t get enough of you.” George loved praising you during sex, he always took pride in doing so.

“G-George, please.” You whisper, George looks up at you, with a questioning face.

“Please, faster! Please!” You moaned out, George gave you a smile and kissed your cheek as he went faster, but not too fast, just slightly faster than the pace he was going. You moan out as he brings his fingers down to your clit and rubs circles round it, making your legs shake. You could feel your orgasm getting closer and creeping up on you like it was the grim reaper.

“George! Im gonna cum, please!” You cried out, all the worry, sadness, and insecurities you were experiencing early had completely disappeared. They were nowhere to be found. George always managed to make your worries and fears go away, it’s like he was magic. But to be fair, he pretty much was.

“Aw, come on pretty girl, cum on me, go on.” George groaned, feeling his own orgasm creep up on him, and before you know it, it wasn’t before too long both of you came together. You were shaking and moaning for quite a bit even after he pulled out and kissed your face all over. George laid on his side and brought the covers over both of you.

“Did that make you feel any better?” George asked, his hand holding yours, you look up at him with a smile.

“What was I upset about again?”

-

THIS WAS KINDA CHEESY BUT WOOOOAH I LOVED IT

[vellichor-of-the-solivagant]

How to Plant Snapdragons (pt. 6)

Task Force141 + König + Keegan x Female Criminal!Reader (except Captain Price, because he'll be like a father to the bunch, and König and Keegan won't appear until later on in the story)

CHAPTER SUMMARY: For the first time in your life, you were thankful you had an ankle monitor

You are currently reading Chapter 6. Here is Chapter 5 and the Masterlist!

CONTENT WARNING: Strong Language and Violence, Implied Sexual Content (?) WORD COUNT: 2.6k

“Tie him up,” Price ordered. “Bravo 0-6 to Shadow 0-1, we’ve got the package. I repeat, we’ve got the package.”

“Copy, Bravo-6, the Shadows are still holding down the militia. But better move fast,” Graves demanded through the comms, his voice a bit stifled.

You got up from the man, putting your gun away, and stood beside Ghost, glancing up at him. “What’s on your mind, Lt.?”

“I’m wondering what else ya can do,” he responded in a low voice but kept his eyes focused on the Brazilian.

Gaz and Soap dragged Fabricio up to his feet, trying to remove himself from the soldiers’ death grips, a string of curses in Portuguese and English leaving his mouth.

You chuckled as the sergeants pulled out ropes from the pockets of their vests and bound his wrists on the nearest house’s window railings. “Why don’t you find out, sweetheart?” you questioned, playfully nudging his side.

Upon contact, you felt him stiffen and you quickly withdrew your arm. "Sorry."

He remained silent for a good second and turned to you. "Why not just tell me?"

You looked at him, surprised that he didn’t comment on the nickname you gave him. You smiled. "Eeey, Lt. Ya like to be called sweetheart?"

He frowned. "No, I—"

"Eeey, no need to be shy, buttercup, sweet cheeks, stud muffin—"

"Don't—"

At this point, the rest of Task Force 141 were looking at you two, invested in what kind of cringe name you would give the ever so cool and stoic Ghost. Even Fabricio kept his mouth shut, wondering if you were a mad woman who escaped the Mental Ward and sneaked in with these guys.

"Don't stop the music!" You exclaimed, suddenly pumping your fist in the air and shuffling your feet, before whipping around to Ghost just as he was about to step away. "Where are you escaping, my Pookie, bebegurl, acoochie coochie coo—"

"Enough," he grumbled.

You nodded immediately. "Copy that."

The Sergeants exchanged looks and the Captain sighed, shaking his head.

“Que diabos você quer de mim?!” Fabricio yelled, taking the opportunity to talk, his eyes darting around your figure and the Task Force veiled by the night. Only a flicker of light and your voices could inform him that there were five of you.

“What rubbish is he saying now?” Soap asked, turning to you.

You sauntered towards the target and crossed your arms. “He says, what the hell do we want from him.” Then, you leaned down, leveling your face to his. “Você conhece o inglês?”

(Do you know English?)

His eyes averted for a split second, seemingly thinking, before he shook his head furiously. “Não.”

(No.)

You huffed and glanced over your shoulder to look at the 141. “He knows English, you guys can talk to him instead.” You turned your head back to the Brazilian, who had a frown on his face, knowing you had already seen through his lie. “Say a single word in Portuguese or lie again, you’ll wish you had never messed with these guys.”

Maybe, you were really from the Mental Hospital made in the depths of Hell, because you looked like you added crack instead of salt on an egg at breakfast just now and switched to a seemingly normal soldier who just happened to know Portuguese.

If Bipolarity has four stages, you'd be on twelve.

“I have never messed with any of you!” He shouted, clenching his fist and tugging on the ropes as if he could escape it. “You are the ones who—ugh!”

Soap grabbed his neck and squeezed it tight, his veins raising on his skin. It got you arching your brows, smiling wide, and stepping to the side to let him do his thing, while Fabricio wheezed. What a lucky guy he was to have a beautiful necklace.

“Where is Hassan Zyani?” Johnny questioned, lowering his voice making it sound like a snarl. It made you want to be in the lucky guy’s place, meow, and bark at him if he wanted to.

You were so thankful you had borrowed a mask from the Lieutenant, otherwise, these people would already be dragging you to the mental ward for smiling like a maniac, ready to be a pet for Soap.

Who wouldn’t?

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” claimed Fabricio, his eyes darting from left to right, seemingly looking for something.

You glanced at the other three and it appeared they had noticed the Brazilian had looked around by the way they had also batted their gaze in different directions. Perceiving that as permission to let you and Soap to the rest of the interrogation as one of Price’s tests again, you drew out your knife.

Soap pulled his hand away and stepped aside, eyeing the knife on your hand, before your face covered with mask and night vision.

“It’s no use to lie, sir.” You approached him, holding his hand. “We already know your deals with Hassan. Now, where is he?” you asked and slowly started to drive the tip of your knife on his under the nail of his thumb.

He screamed in pain, his loud voice echoing along the series of gunshots in the air.

These noises were some things you were already used to or rather, they haunted you wherever you went, like a phantom you couldn’t chase away.

Yet it never ceased to be exhilarating.

“I, I don’t—” another scream cut off his words as you lifted his nail from his finger, letting it fall on the ground. Warm blood stained your glove, seeping through the fabric that kept your hand clean.

Just as you were about to do the same to his index finger, he exclaimed, “He’s in Mexico!”

“Where in Mexico?” Soap questioned, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder.

“I—” Fabricio stopped as you pointed the knife to his eye and you could see the big yet dry gulp he had, his Adam’s apple going up and down. “Las . . . Las Almas, Mexico. That’s where I last heard he was going!”

“Las Almas, eh?” Price averted his eyes for a second, appearing to be thinking of something before he stared at the man. “What’s he doing there?”

You slowly planted the tip of the knife under his eye, a warning for him to speak only the truth to the Captain.

“I heard he was making a deal with a person called El Sin Nombre.” Fabricio’s eyes then shifted to you, a bit glossy as tears formed, making you smile. “Please, that’s all I know!”

You kept the knife's blade on his cheek as you turned to face the Captain, quietly waiting for the order he was going to bark. He motioned a hand, swiping his neck which got Fabricio to yell curses at you in his mother tongue, struggling to escape his binds to no avail. With one slash through his throat, his insults that swam to your ears died in the breeze of Rio’s summer night.

You stepped away from the corpse, wiping the knife on your pants, and sheathed it back. You looked from yourself to find Soap, staring at you. You tilted your head in question. “Something the matter, sir?”

“Ah,” Johnny turned away, “nothing.”

It neither looked nor sounded nothing.

“Bravo 0-6 to Shadow 0-1, we’re done unpacking the package,” Price announced, beckoning for the four of you to follow him in an alleyway as he started to jog. You and the guys followed his lead, hugging your assault rifle tight to your chest. The Captain and Gaz were in front of you, while Soap and Ghost were on your rear.

“Copy, Bravo 0-6, that was fast,” Graves immediately replied, amazement evident in his voice.

“She did the unpacking, Shadow-1,” Priced told him, his voice cool, and sounded like a bit of a proud parent when their child achieved something, even if it was small. 

You threw your bag on one of the couches and looked around the place, while the guys scattered around, the Sergeant Duo and the Captain yelling at one another when they found alcohol on the shelves.

You and the 141 were currently in one of Graves' facilities, but this one could be called more of a mansion than a facility. You had heard that this one in Salvador was often only used when he and the Shadows would go on a short vacation after missions. And damn, you had always forgotten the prick was rich.

He had let you and the 141 occupy adjoining rooms with a living room, a kitchen, and a dining place. He might as well call this a suite.

You felt your muscles tremble and the wounds, you realized you had when you got on the chopper, ached.

Not bothering to tell anyone you'd be heading to the bathroom, you got your wallet of personal hygiene, sluggishly dragging your feet towards the bathroom. You slipped off your gear, mask, shoes, and shirt. Then, looked down at the monitor—the bane, the pain, the curse of your life.

You slipped off the first half of your pants, freeing one of your legs—Good—and started fighting for your life, pulling the pants past the monitor with one good arm. You even had to sit down on the cold-ass floor but to no avail.

You rolled down on the floor and kicked the air, breathing heavily through your nose, and got back up again to continue your struggle.

"Look at these goddamn pants and monitor having a relationship stronger than most relationships of kids these days," you grumbled, smacking the monitor as if it would break it down to the point your mind became too occupied with your grumbles and constant motivational speeches to realize the voice outside the door and the sound as Soap entered.

And Johnny was too busy to care about the weirdass pose you were making on the floor as his blue eyes raked over every inch of your skin. His brain took note of the curves of your body, the shades of your skin, your toned muscles, and the wounds you had gotten that he wanted to kiss better and caress each part of you gently to make you relax.

Because you looked angry and his instinct was to cover the growing tent on his pants as he locked the door behind him.

"Wait, shite, wrong, wrong—" your foot slammed on the door before he could make his escape, trapping him.

He couldn't help but glance at your leg, eyes traveling to your thighs and to your clothed cunt, making him run his tongue over his lips. Then he continued up to the flat of your stomach where he'd see the outline of his cock if he was pounding you against the bathroom wall, pretty legs over his shoulders, chest bouncing at every movement, and moaning his name.

Oh, you could feel the desire in his gaze right now and you could see the way his tongue moved across his lips and the attempt to hide his hard-on. And you couldn't help but pursed your lips for a moment, bringing your foot down to the cold tile as heat gathered between your thighs.

The sooner he left, the sooner you could take care of it. But you need his help right now. "Take off my pants."

The lingering blush on his cheeks spread to his ears and neck. "What? No, no, I—"

"It's stuck on the monitor."

"It's stuck . . . ?" He looked down on your leg and almost slapped himself upon not noticing that your pants were indeed stuck on the monitor, and couldn't help but cackle, remembering your position earlier. "That's why yer on the floor!"

"No shit, Sherlock."

"I'm Scottish."

"No shit, Scotlock."

"That's even worse. Alright, stand still. I'll grab a bathrobe." He patted your head and picked up your vest, shirt, mask, and shoes from the floor, putting them on the sink's side. Then, he proceeded to get a bathrobe and slipped it on you, even fastening the ties for you.

“Now then.” He reached down and scooped you in his arm, making your lips part and heart leap in surprise. He set you down next to the sink and gave your thigh a small pat. “I’ll get scissors.”

He turned away and opened the door. “Let’s keep this open, okay?"

"Okay," you replied in a small voice and brought your good hand to your face. "God, he's bad for my heart."

But for the first time, you were thankful you had an ankle monitor.

"Did he just come out of here?" Gaz's voice echoed and popped out behind the wall, raising a brow at you. A chuckle left his lips and he approached you. "Ah, no wonder."

"Don't laugh," you whined, waving your leg and whacking him with your pants like a whip.

His laughter only got louder and you pulled a face. He grinned and pinched your cheek. Then, he frowned as he saw blood soaking the white bathrobe. "What the hell, you're bleeding!"

You looked down at your thigh and clicked your tongue. "Damn, it's on the—"

"Got the scissors," Soap announced and his brows flew as he saw his fellow soldier. You noticed that Ghost was behind him, holding a first aid kit. "Hey, Gaz. By the way, I told the Lt. 'bout your wounds." He gestured a thumb over his shoulder.

"He said you have cuts that are large enough to need stitches," Ghost claimed, raking his light brown eyes over your frame. He could see your hand and thigh bleeding.

"Ah, I was planning on taking care of it later," you said as Soap began cutting the pants and finally pulled it off your ankle monitor. He set it aside and inspected the monitor if he accidentally damaged it.

His eyes narrowed as he placed the kit down next to you. "Later won't cut it, sweetheart." He slipped off his gloves and washed his hands clean on the sink, before patting it dry on the towel hanging on the wall. He extended his hand. "Let me see your hand first."

You put the back of your hand over his, showing him your palm. A cut across greeted his sight, blood running out and making him sigh. "Not so deep to need stitches, this one, but we need to bandage it up." He opened the tap and guided your hand under the running water. "Gaz, put pressure on her thigh. It's bleeding too much."

You winced at the sudden sting as the water hit your wound and the Sergeants had begun to press clean towels on your bleeding cuts, but it was nothing you couldn't take. Soon, after cleaning the wound, he applied down ointment and bandaged it up.

"Alright, your . . . thigh." He looked you straight in the eyes. "May I?"

For someone who had strangled you with his godly thighs, he sure was a gentleman. But more than that, you had noticed that as you had grown closer to the Sergeants, it seemed the more you grew distant from the Lieutenant. He had avoided your touches, even a simple nudge.

You nodded. "Of course, sir."

Gaz removed his hand away from your thigh and Ghost carefully lifted it to look at the wound. His rough, scarred, calloused hand felt warm against your skin.

"We'll have to stitch this one," he claimed and gently set your leg down.

"Are you good at it, sir?" You questioned as he rummaged through his kit. He pulled out a kind of needle you were so familiar with—a curved one.

"Very," he said confidently, putting a thread through the eye of the needle, and disinfected it with alcohol. "Go hold onto something. This might hurt."

"Want to hold my hand, Bonnie?" Soap offered, taking your good hand in his grasp.

"Please," you replied, squeezing it.

"Come closer," Ghost demanded and you inched yourself closer to the edge. "Lift your leg a bit for me."

Ah, another one that was bad for your heart.

The next chapter is Here!

Also on AO3!

Taglist: @yyiikes, @the-faceless-bride, @sae1kie, @sarahedwards16, @kenma-izhu, @kkaaaagt

Note: Sorry for the short chap. I got sick for almost 5 days. I was planning on adding more in this chapter but yeah, that happened. Also, please let me know if I got the translations wrong. I was also planning on making a Halloween Special, but idk when or if I'll post it since Halloween is ending lmao

[theredofoctober]

SPITE— The Boys fic, Billy Butcher x reader, crossposted from AO3, reader uses she/her pronouns

TW: Violence, noncon

The super villain known as SPITE (reader) has been stalking Billy Butcher. He captures her, and chaos ensues...

Read after the cut

---

"You little cunt."

The words lose their meaning quickly in the lurching dark through frequent repetition.

Their first utterance is a hiss against your ear as you're dredged from the street to some rank basement, roiling in your captor's grip like a sturgeon all the way down.

The second usage of the phrase errupts in a catankerous grunt as their speaker attempts to bind you to a chair, a gyre of your tulle and satin costume half-smothering him as you thrash, and kick, and bite.

"You little cunt," snarls Billy Butcher, for the third time, as you clip his jaw with your forehead.

Then, with a vicious grin, he spits a gout of his own blood into your face.

"Like that, do you, you fucking supe slag? Don't worry, there's plenty more where that came from."

His shackles your throat with his fist, smirking as you flinch from the red razors of his teeth. He wears a mask of revulsion, the whites of his eyes within it shocking, horrible.

You can't seem to look away.

"Not so brave, now, are you, flower?" asks Butcher. "See, I've been following you, and just picture my fucking surprise to find out that you've been trying to do the same to me. And just me, that is; you've kept well out the way of my Boys. You've been very clever about it, I'll give you that. I doubt they even have a clue who you are."

He releases your throat and wipes his hand on the garish fabric of his shirt with a laborious theatricality.

"So," he continues, "either you were trying to kill me off—which you are absolutely shit at, by the way—or there's something else you're after. Wonder what that could be?"

Butcher kicks a chair leg, and you rock upon it like a bowling pin.

"Look at ya," he sneers. "Running around here, dressed like some clown's tart— sorry to tell you, love, but the circus ain't in fucking town."

Swallowing dryly, you attempt to scrape the chair backwards, inch by inch, across the floor, putting space between yourself and the man with the coarse velvet of murder in his voice.

Butcher watches your retreat, shaking his head.

"Where are you gonna go, sweetheart? You can't use your fucking fairy magic powers when you're all tied up like that, so don't get any ideas. You're cosied up with me for a bit. So let's have a chat, shall we?"

With your voice obstructed by a makeshift gag you merely widen your eyes in response.

"Well, love, I'm glad you asked," says Butcher, with an acid sarcasm. "There's only two ways you're leaving here tonight: either as strawberry slushie at the bottom of a fucking rubbish bag, or all in one piece, except for your dignity, that is. Better make up your mind. I don't have all night."

He pauses, pretends to consider.

"Well, I do, but I wanna spend it cracking open a couple of beers with the lads, not down here chin-wagging with a bleedin' Supe."

Butcher's gaze is thick with the dregs of an old and bitter madness: you feel more than undressed by it, skinned, rather, your muscles flayed from the bone.

"Look at you," says Butcher, coldly. "Sitting there in all that pink bollocks looking like something Piglet shat out after a mad one in The Hundred Acre Wood. What's it all about, eh?"

He kicks suddenly at your calf, his boot rending layers of candyfloss fishnet thread with a blow that will surely bruise.

"Nobody's making you wear this shit; Vought won't touch you with a bargepole after all the stunts you’ve been pulling on the sly. Your own kind don't want anything to do with you. You're a loner. So what were you doing prancing about in this silly fucking get-up? Waiting for me to notice?"

Butcher shunts your chair back against the wall, tipping it at an angle that, at his high vantage, likely allows a view that is particularly obscene.

"Don't be shy," he leers. "Every time you threw a kick at me I could see right up at your knickers. And they're fragile little things, ain't they?"

You strain against your bonds, bucking with such an indignant gusto that the ropes start to fray against your muscles.

"Oh no you fucking don't," says Butcher, and slaps you so hard across the cheek that you're still again in an instant, your ears sirening from the blow.

"You don't wanna piss me off, darling," says your captor, grimly. "See, I could really fucking hurt you, but I don't wanna manhandle you more than I have to, savvy? Then again, I think you're gagging to be roughed up. Didn't put up much of a fight, did you, and now I've got you right where I want you—"

You mumble your objections into the wad of lace against your teeth, but Butcher ignores you, caught up in the rhythm of his spiel.

"—Seems like you're desperate for me to give you a good seeing to. Well, don't worry, love. Daddy's here."

He's being ironic, you think, but as a strange combination of want and loathing twists his countenance you begin to change your mind. 

"I can't stand your sort," Butcher mutters. "Filthy mutants, the lot of you. But seeing you in this mess I might have it in me for a pity fuck."

He shoves a thumb into your mouth and pulls free the gag, wincing as his fingers come away wet with drool.

"Well," he says. "Speak up, love. Do you wanna shag, or die?"

"Neither," you rasp. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Butcher's smile is blood and ice.

"See, I thought you'd say that. So I took the liberty of popping all the security footage I've got of you onto a nice little pen drive so I could play it back to you, remind you how many times you’ve tiptoed around me about in your glorified stripper wear without finishing the bloody job. Let's have a gander, shall we?"

He fumbles for a remote, and a vast television screen illuminates in the centre of the room, revealing picture after picture of you tracking Butcher across the city by night. You recall taunting him with your proximity, enjoying the game; it's how you always hunt your targets, hounding them until they go mad with paranoia, an end hastened by hallucinations cast like spellwork from your fingertips, each more awful than the last.

Butcher, however...

He had been difficult. He'd barely seemed to respond to your assaults, no matter your pressure upon his mind. 

"In case you're wondering, I saw your poxy visions," he announces perceptively, rapping the television screen with his fist. "But you underestimate the level of fucked up I've witnessed in my life. I've seen scarier shit in my morning routine."

The screen flickers, and you're faced with a shot of yourself standing in Butcher's shadow, so close to him that your breath is almost on the back of his neck. How smug you'd been in the thought that he hadn't known you were there, that you were so extraordinarily clever, and daring.

Humiliating to think that Butcher had followed you with equal stealth, despite his limitations.

"Tell me why you picked me to wind up," he demands, "and not Frenchie, or M.M., or any of my mates. Why am I so special? You've heard my theories. Now it's your turn."

You don't immediately answer, keeping a mutinous silence.

Butcher approaches you with a slow, heavy tread, a killer's prowl, and leans into you, smelling of beer and cologne, and his own congealing blood. You wonder what he makes of your own scent: sweat and sugar, the remnants of perfume, petty irritants for his rudimentary human senses.

Smirking, you say, "You despise us all so much, Billy. I wanted to see what your face would look like when you realised that a Supe had killed you."

"Nah," says Butcher, shaking his head. "I'm not convinced. I reckon you wanted to know how hard a 'normal' like me could hate-fuck you when you got caught in the act."

He shunts a knee between your thighs—each lashed to either side of the chair, conveniently apart—and grinds an apex of bone against you, forcing a reluctant shiver through your core.

You're afraid to move, lest you provoke him; you can't be silent lest Butcher thinks he's won.

At last you settle to hiss between your teeth, "Why don't you just do it? Like you said, I can't use my powers with my hands tied like this. So what's stopping you? Why don't you just do what you want, Mr King Shit of Fuck Mountain?"

"That's not my style," says Butcher, with a sneer. "I want you to ask for it. Beg like the pathetic cunt you are. I'm giving you a choice."

"I'm tied to a chair, genius. I don't have many choices."

"You were trying to murder me, sweetheart. You're lucky you're getting any options."

"You could just let me go."

"And put up with you tormenting me for another bloody month? Not likely."

You burst into sudden laughter and Butcher freezes, his face clouded by sheer loathing. 

"Shut up," he snarls. "Shut up right fucking now."

Butcher makes a fist, and you wonder what he means to do: violet an eye, shatter a tooth, break bone like a glass in some grimy pub. As your laugh continues he aims a punch and misses as you weave your head aside, splitting his knuckles on the back of the chair.

"Shit!"

"You're a hypocrite," you say, as he wipes off the blood. "I know all about you. Your hard-on for killing Supes. You act like you think you're better than us, but really? I think you're a jealous little fanboy."

"Who's the fucking fan here?" snarls Butcher. "Admit it. That little stalking act— you've been flirting with me."

You wrinkle your nose.

"You wish."

"Don't have to wish. I reckon if I was to feel that snatch of yours right now you'd be wet through."

The laughter dies in your throat, and you edge about in your seat, attempting to shimmy your skirt further down over your hips.

"Wouldn't mean anything," you mutter, at last, and Butcher gives you a cunning look.

"Only that getting smacked about by a man who wants to kill you is your cup of tea. And I'm starting to think it is."

He shrugs off his vast coat, throwing it aside. Veins stand out on the backs of his hands and arms, and you realise, suddenly, that he is serious in what he means to do, entirely so. You could die tonight, and the worst of it is that no one would care.

"Make your mind up, Spite," says Butcher. "You know what's on the table. You pick, or I will. I don't think you'd like that. My crowbar wants to make friends with every one of your stupid fucking Supe bones."

The peril of your situation is unavoidable. You move your lips, the sounds escaping at such mite softness that Butcher cranes his ear towards your mouth.

"What did you say? Speak up, darlin'."

With a sudden lunge you snap at Butcher's earlobe and latch on with grinning teeth. Blood crests your tongue in a grisly baptism, and as the man wrenches from your grip you see how badly he wants to hurt you.

"Oh, you sneaky little fucker!" he barks. "That's it; I've had enough of that mouth."

In a punishing scuffle Butcher stuffs another wad of torn fabric between your jaws, thrusting it so far down your throat that you almost choke. Then he drags your hips forward on the chair and scrambles for his zipper, his face murky with rage. 

"You wanna play, Supe? Then let's have some fucking fun."

His fingers pierce your core, twisting deep, and you writhe like a halved worm around them.

Butcher drives his face so close to yours that your foreheads knock together, his eyes the very black of death.

"So I was right. You're making a proper mess, poor little thing."

You attempt to remain defiant, scornful, but you can barely maintain the artifice when Butcher's hand is so deep within you, each rough twitch of his fingers inducing a further slickness. Desperate, you wrench your arms against the ropes that hold them fast, hoping to wear through your bonds.

"Pack it in," snaps Butcher. "Or I will really bloody hurt you."

You believe it, but don't cease your struggling; you never relinquish a fight, whatever the cost.

Cursing, Butcher wraps a fist around your throat, squeezing until you gargle in pain.

"Now you be a good little trollop," he says, "and take my fucking cock, alright?"

He's so hard as he enters you that you see, in his expression, a dark, aching relief, as though soothing a terrible burn.

How long as he thought about this, tortured by your figure twisting and dancing around him through the rain-lashed streets in a miasma of summoned dreams? How close did he come to splaying you across a wall in some filthy alleyway, crushing you like a butterfly under his boot?

Now he has you jailed from your powers he makes you feel weak. How exhilarating that he is capable of this, a man born entirely without super abilities.

With each violent thrust the chair bangs against the wall, swinging a blade of pain up through your middle. Butcher's hands rip at your costume, tearing it between your breasts with an animal malice.

"You're tight," he says. "So fucking tight..."

He kisses your stuffed mouth with a clash of teeth, and the assault sparks the flint of lust in the secret part of you that has yearned to be dismantled by his stark hatred.

Even as you'd schemed to kill him you'd thought this man handsome, admired, coldly, his brutal methods, imagined standing over his corpse, admiring the loss of homocidal life as you might a sun beam in broken glass.

Now you are such fragments in his handling Butcher has no mercy for you. The man is out of control, taking, by instinct, in a berserker state, knowing nothing but the satisfaction of violence.

His cock jars you like a slaughterer's bolt, knifing your warmth with his ever greater heat. There is no talking, for a time, only the fever of his vengeful need. The room resounds with exerted grunts and the squeak of the chair beneath your struggling bodies; the angle of fucking is awkward, and you notice Butcher glancing at your bonds, evidently considering whether or not cutting you loose is worth the risk of you killing him.

At last he barks, "I'm gonna move you. Try anything stupid and you can kiss your kneecaps goodbye."

You nod limply, and Butcher pulls a blade from somewhere and hacks at the ropes with a careless malice, unflinching as he nicks the skin beneath. Keeping only a knot around your wrists he wrangles you over a couch and ruts you, face down, upon it, his fist in your hair, straining its roots.

"This what you thought it'd be like, you fucking brat?"

You try to brace a leg upon the floor, but your foot skids, and Butcher presses you harder against the couch cushions, smothering your ragged breaths.

"Supposed to be superior," he grunts. "Can't even put up a proper fight."

You twist under him, throwing him off onto the floor in a landslide of churning limbs, and as he staggers up after you again he's grinning widely.

"That's more like it."

As he comes for you again you vault yourself over the back of the sofa and roll into a dark corner, loosening the rope across your hands. When Butcher seizes you by the ankles and hauls you towards him you steeple two fingers at the man's forehead and flex.

What you put into his mind is the vilest image your thoughts can conjure, so corrupt that he drops you swiftly and flinches back, his face paling. 

"Fuck me."

For a moment you think that Butcher might vomit, and scrape yourself further across the ground, towards the door, waiting for the inevitable heaving to give you time to run. But he only turns his head and spits a clot of plegm into the dust, his countenance wrenched by a savage glee. 

"I knew you Supes weren't right in the head, but you're really somethin,'" he breathes. "Can see why all your quarry end up bashing their own brains in against the nearest wall. Not me, though, love. You've picked the wrong bastard."

A rare fear eats through you as you dump the last of the rope and scamper up the stairwell towards the street. As you barrel your shoulder into the door at the top it resists you, barely splintering despite your harshest efforts. 

"Supe proofed," says Butcher, smugly, as he comes up the stairs behind you. "At least against half-baked cunts like you that don't even have decent powers."

He slams you against the door, dizzying you in the blow. The next thing you're aware of is being dragged back down to the basement, and although you rail him with blows and waves of toxic thought Butcher manages to lumber back over the threshold again.

"I'm not finished with you," he says, and lets out a yelp as you sweep a foot under one leg, bringing him down onto the concrete floor with a resounding boom.

Spitting out the gag, you snap, "Go on, kill me, fuckface. I'm waiting. Make it good for me!"

"I'll make something bloody good, that's for sure," Butcher retorts, and he pins you on your back, arms trapped beneath you. "I never leave a job half-done."

He kisses you again, his tongue gilding your throat, and you feel his hardness between your legs again, undetered by the fight, likely strengthened by it. This is a man who feeds on brutality: why should his fucking be any different?

This time when his cock enters you his right hand follows, finding your clitoris with a nimble ease. You loathe the way he makes your body jump to his touch, the stupid, whimpering moans that pass your bleeding lips with the ruthless beat of his thrusting.

You detest how easy it is for him to mould your obstinance into something needy and mewling, as though he knew this potential was there from the beginning.

"How's that feel?" asks Butcher, thickly, a devilish blaze in his eyes. "Tell me. Is that good, you little cunt?"

"Yes!" you blurt out, and hate him for making you say it, for the fact that it is true. "God, don't—"

You attempt to bring your knees together, to dislodge his hand, but you can't shift Butcher's weight, only trigger him to fuck you deeper, rolling his fingers between your heaving bodies until you're slick as an eel with perspiration.

"Go on, make some noise," croons Butcher, "'cause you're gonna come so hard you'll forget how much you hate me."

Your mouth opens to protest, but to Butcher's grinning satisfaction you can do nothing but let out hoarse, quavering cries, all rational thought simmered to steam on the pinnacle of your ecstasy.

You've never known pleasure so sharp, so clean. You're still in the throes of it when Butcher bucks against you one last time, flattening you beneath him as he fills you with his groaning release.

He rolls off and lies beside you for a minute, seeming to gaze at the ceiling, with something between disgust and a quiet smugness. 

Then he says, into the lull, "You want a drink?"

You sit up slowly, disliking the precarious wobble in your arms as your brace yourself.

"Why," you say, slowly, "the fuck would I want to drink with you, Butcher?"

Getting to his feet he shrugs, and fumbles about on a table for a bottle of something murky and likely possessing the qualities of turpentine.

"'Cause you're still sat on your arse rather than trying to kill me again, so I reckon you need a bevvy. And I know you ain't got anywhere else to go."

Butcher pours you a shot of the dark liquid and eyes you with a cagey interest when you don't immediately take it.

"I'm the only one of your marks that isn't a Supe," he says. "I haven't figured out your M.O. yet. Be easier to pick your brains when you're pissed. Might loosen you up a bit."

"Not a good idea," you mutter. "Might realise we've got more in common that you think."

You outstretch a hand and pluck the glass from him, sniffing the contents suspiciously.

"Ain't poisoned, Spite," says Butcher. "Be fucking rude, after what we just did."

"It'd be bang on character, then," you reply, coolly, and drain the glass in a wincing swig. "Christ. How do you drink this shit?"

"I've got a strong stomach. Or kidneys. Take your pick. So, now you're watered, speak up. Why did you come after me?"

You wind your arms around your knees and look at Butcher sideways, thinking, with some annoyance, how much your answer will stroke his ego.

"A lot of Supes out there are afraid of you. I just wanted to know why."

[ohtobeleah]

Congrats on 4k Leah!🤍 I've been reading you work for a while now but I just started a new account so I can start writing something too and I'm here following you again🤎🤎 I love your writing so much! Please, never stop writing🤍 // This is my first time requesting on here so if I do it wrong, I'm so sorry🙇‍♀️ I'd like to request situation #28 and sentence #13 with Bob, please. Thank you so much🤍🤎 #PL2

Situation 28 - Love confession

Prompt 13 - “Tell me what you're thinking right now.”

The Waitress Song //

“Mama?” Your daughter asked as you held her hands as she stood on the edge of the pool table, balancing as your husband and his colleagues celebrated their promotions with a few rounds at the local watering hole. The Hard Deck. “How did you meet daddy?” 

***~***~***~***~***~**

“What can I get you today, Flyboy?” There's a place Bob goes for breakfast every afternoon. The coffee’s rubbish and the bacon’s always hard to chew, and the toast is always soggy, but— he hardly notices. 

And the food takes such a long time to get made, even when he’s the only person in the cafe. And his table is always wobbly—but he hardly notices. 

You're probably thinking why he’d even bother eating there on a daily basis? There's heaps of other places on offer, why not change to another place if the bacon is rubber and the taste of the cuppa makes him pull faces and splutter?

It's the waitress. He loves her, the way she clears plates with a clutter, you make his heart race and flutter. He is absolutely aware that it's crazy to love you—A lady that's basically just a stranger with an apron down your brother. 

Bobs doesn’t need to ask your name and number because this relationship is built on breakfast, all he does is wait on you just so you can wait on him. 

“Just the usual?” You asked shortly after. Bob smiled softly as he handed you back the menu that’s always on the table prompt and ready. You took it with grace and fished the blue ball point pen from your bun. Finding a blank page in your notebook to write down Bob's order. 

Realistically you didn’t need to write Bob's order down. You knew it off by heart, you just liked having an excuse to talk to the cute naval aviator that would go out of his way to stop by after whatever shift he’d just come off or was about to start to order some less than mediocre food from the 24hr diner your uncle owned and operated for the last twenty years. 

“What’s it usually? A medium coffee to go, bacon and eggs with a side of toast and beans?” Bob couldn’t help but to chuckle softly. A beautiful crimson red crept across the apples of his cheeks that let you know he felt a little gooey on the inside that you’d memorised his order. 

First you started off just saying hi to him bye to him that'll be $5.95 to him but Bob didn't really mind, that was always alright with him, he just smiled and ate. He’d watch you float around and clean the counter. Admiring from afar. 

Sometimes the two of you might not have spoken for like a week, you knew in Bob's quiet times he liked to be alone and write a poem with his headphones on—so you’d let him do just that and admire from afar. 

“Uh—can I change it up a little today?” Bob asked as he rubbed the back of his neck. The longer he kept you standing there, looking all kinds of perfect—the longer he had to work up the courage to ask you out. “If that isn’t too much trouble?” 

“Sure thing Lieutenant Floyd.” You say almost delighted that you get to stay a little while longer. “What can I get ya this morning?” 

“A Newspaper please? bacon, a fried or poached egg, whatever’s easiest and a slice of toast, long black too if the coffee is any good today.”  The beans were always burnt, Bob thought to himself after having ordered them time and time again. And he knew if the cup was dirty you would just clean it with your shirt.

He couldn’t help but to wonder if you were his ideal girl, and what would happen if you dated in the real world. ‘Nah’ He shook the thought from his mind, he didn't think it would work. Bob wouldn't wanna risk what you have and have to tip 'cause of that. 

“Coming right up—“ You nodded and placed your pen back in your bun and tucked your order pad into your apron. “I’ll bring your coffee out first.” 

“Thanks.” It had been like this for months. The both of you were too afraid to make the first real move, so the move never came. Lieutenant Robert Floyd was one of your three regulars and the only one who’d managed to steal your heart. There was no way he ate here day in and day out just for the food—if he did he was crazy. But regardless you kept entertaining his foolishness. Wondering if he’d ever work up enough courage to just make a move. 

“Alright, one black coffee for you Bob.” You wanted to say that the food wouldn’t be too far away but you knew Bob would know that you were lying. It always took forever.

“Amazing, thank you so much Y/n, I feel like I’ve been up since forever.” Bob sighed as you carefully poured him a cup of fresh coffee. Placing the freshly brewed pot down on the table as you mulled over your next question. It wasn’t like you to be so forward, but you simply had nothing better to do. 

“Do you mind if I sit with you?” You asked as you watched the way Bob raised his eyebrows at your question. “I don’t mean to impose—I just don’t have an awful lot to be doing right now and I’d rather sit and talk then just think about talking to you from behind the counter.” Bob thought his head was going to explode with how hot he was running. 

You? Sitting with him? Could he just give you his last name already? 

“Uh—yeah no by all means.” Bob tried to hide the probably overbearing and possibly psychotic grin that threatened to consume his face as he watched you slide into the chair across from him. Sighing with relief that you were finally off your feet. “You work here every day don’t you?” 

“Yep.” You popped the p as you let your chin fall into your hand as your elbow prompted you up on the table. “Feels like one big eternal shift.” You explained as Bob took a sip of his coffee. Hiding the fact he wanted to splatter at the bitterness. “I’m sure my diner delirium is nowhere near as exciting or as thrilling as being a pilot for the navy though.” You gestured down to Bobs flight suit—this had been the longest conversation the two of you had ever had and Bob thought his heart was going to beat through his chest: 

He was infuriated with your smile, the effortless way it could be the brightest thing in the entire diner. He loved your laugh—for the very few times he’d been blessed with the sound of it. Surely it was the very sound that people were blessed with when they entered the gates of heaven. Then there was your hair. So uniquely gorgeous that he saw it in his dreams, dancing across the white satin pillow cases of Bob's bed. 

“Oh I’m not a pilot.” Bob corrected you with a humble glint in his eye. Swirling baby blue oceans that completely captivated your heart. “I’m a weapons systems officer.” Just as you were going to ask for more detail, more information—the sound of the little orders up bell rang out through the empty diner. 

“I’ll be right back with your food weapons system officer Floyd.” You beamed, sliding out and sauntering off towards the pass. Bob turned his attention around to follow you—his eyes lingered down from your neck to your back to the swell of your ass, he blushed a bashful hume of crimson red when he felt his flight suit rise in his crotch. You were perfect. His ideal girl and Bob didn’t even know you. 

Bob had to pretend he was looking at the light fixtures above your head when you turned on your heels, his order in hand and folded newspaper under your arm. 

“Orders up Flyboy—“ You chuckled as you sat back down. “So, what does being a weapons system officer entail?” No one had really asked Bob that question before, so as he looked down at the mediocre meal he’d ordered and chuckled softly to himself at how surreal this moment felt—he couldn’t help but to look at you like you hung all the stars in the night sky just for him. “What?” You smiled. 

“Nothing—“ Bob beamed back at you, his cheeks flushed and ever telling. “It’s nothing.” 

“Tell me what you're thinking right now.” You demanded through a grin so pure it stole Bob's heart, he watched as your hand crept across to steal a slice of slightly burnt toast off his plate. The moment you took a bite Bob knew he was in love with you—his mysterious diner waitress. Like you’d cast some sort of spell on his mortal body, Bob felt himself giving in, falling weak on his knees at the idea of spending every waking moment getting to know you more. 

“I uh—I was just thinking that I think I’m in love with you.” You froze, not expecting the shy eyed man sitting across from you to expose himself so openly. It was endearing though. “I’m so sorry—that was really out of pocket.” 

“No no!” You tried to hide the fact your head was filling with all the little scenarios you’d daydreamed about while working. Thinking of the future and what it would be like if Bob was really your future husband. “I uh, I don’t mind actually.” 

“Really?” Bob let out a sigh of relief as he looked at you across the table with all the love in the world dripping from his baby face. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m sure—“ You took another bite of the triangle but of toast before swallowing. “I think I might be in love with you too.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“He used to come into mummy’s diner baby.” You explained. “When uncle Roger used to own it, before it was really good.” 

“Dad says uncle Roger can’t cook to save his life.” Your daughter countered as you felt Bob come to stand behind you, his hand snaked up across your hip before he was kissing your cheek.  

“Dad stands by that statement.” Bob added as he smiled against your skin, floral notes of jasmine and amber rose filled his senses. “He lost ten pounds from eating your uncle's food every day just so he could talk to mama.” 

“Could have just asked me out on a date, Flyboy—“ You teased, turning to kiss your husband softly. Bob hummed a laugh against you as your daughter climbed into your arms. 

“Ah, that would’ve been too easy.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Leah’s 4k celebration 🎊

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Hi I hope your doing good!

I was just wondering if you can do a pure fluff tangerine fanfiction when the reader has a bad day and tangerine helps hee through it, I know you’ve did something like this in the past (which I read like 20 times a day) but I was wondering if you could make another, or a part 2? Please take your time! Thank you :)

hii!! thank you, hope you’re also well. I did do this one first, just in case you needed it now. and that’s so cute tyy <3 I tend to make fics like this that take place in your room/ house/ place whatever, so that it’s easier to imagine/ think about, but you’re always welcome to imagine it elsewhere, idk if any of that makes sense😭 thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

withhold

tangerine x f reader (comfort)

wc || 756

warnings || nothing really, other than what’s mentioned in ask

masterlist + rules

taglist

You were having an off kind of day. The kind where nothing went right. The sort of day where you'd cry if you dropped a pen or break down if your sleeve got caught in the door handle. One of those days.

Tangerine was coming to yours for dinner in an hour to see you after a few days away. When he was out on missions, he'd text you constantly, checking in whenever he had a moment free. You didn't want to worry him about your state, so you simply decided not to tell him, much preferring to keep him out of the loop.

You knew you had to clean up your space, especially since your boyfriend was coming over. You were comfortable with one another, yet, you didn't want him to see how bad you had gotten. 

As you look around the living room, you start to see just much work it would be, staring vacantly at the cups on the coffee table, the rubbish littering the floor, and the fruit flies swarming that old banana peel, deciding to slump down into the sofa instead. 

You didn't even realise you had fallen asleep until you were startled awake by the knock at the front door. You rake your fingers through your knotty hair as you make your way over. Opening the door, you immediately see your sweet Tangerine with a smile on his face and a bouquet of flowers in hand. "Hey, love," he grins wider, stepping inside, kissing your cheek as he wraps his spare arm around you, embracing you from the side. "How ya been? Got these for you," acting coy as he hands over your favourite flowers. 

"Thank you," you smile, taking the bouquet. "I missed you,"

He cups your cheeks, peppering your face with sweet, tender kisses. "I missed you," he laces his hand into yours, leading you into the kitchen. "I'll sort these out. You make me a tea? I'm absolutely gagging for one," looking back to flash you a smile as he searches your cupboards for a vase to put the flowers in. "This one 'lright?" he asks, pointing.

Nodding cutely. "Yes,"

After cutting the stems and arranging the flowers, he turns to face you, watching how still and expressionless you were as you watch the water boil and bubble. "Hey?" he says softly, not wanting to frighten you. "You 'lright?"

Blinking hard, as if you had just zoned out, facing him with a faux smile. "Yeah, sorry," chuckling awkwardly. "Didn't get much sleep last night," you partially lie.

"You would tell me if you weren't, right?" he questions, sensing that you may not be telling the truth.

"Yeah," you nod, trying to deter him. "Of course,"

You felt awful for lying to him but you didn't want him to worry. You didn't want to see the sadness in his face when you told him how bad you felt. You thought it was better this way.

"Honey," he says slowly, taking a step towards you. "Don't lie," his features are soft yet stern as he searches your face, trying to find your eyes. "Your eyes... they're," pausing as if he was thinking of the word. "They just look sad,"

"I'm not-- I'm good. I just missed you," you sheepishly smile, stepping back.

His warm hands cup your cheeks again, holding you still, silently telling you to stop running away. "I don't think you're being honest with me. You don't seem like yourself,"

You shrug, closing your eyes to avoid his focused gaze.

"You're unhappy," he whispers, his tone sounding like a question he already knew the answer to. "You've been feeling like this for a little while," he gently adds, speaking as if he was reading you word for word. 

"And... you didn't wanna tell me. To worry me,"

You nod meekly, clasping your hands around his, lacing into his fingers, holding him closer to your face. 

"It worries me when you don't tell me. Please don't keep me in the dark. I want to help you, be there for you," Tangerine lowers slightly, resting his forehead against yours. "Don't push me away," 

"I'm sorry," you mutter, feeling a little embarrassed.

"No," he says softly, sounding somewhat offended. "You have no reason to be sorry. You hear me?" he repeats, rubbing his thumbs under your eyes, soothing the sore and tender skin. He kisses the tip of your nose, gazing into your eyes. "I ain't some stranger. When you feel shit, talk to me. I'll always listen to you."

@tangerinesgf @kpopgirlbtssvt @v1ntage-daydr3am @earth-elemental18 @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @thewinterv @navs-bhat @ilovetangerinewithallmyheart @theredvelvetbitch @randomawesomeperson102 @lov3lypeaches7 @princess-pebbles-things @astermath @dynamitehacke @ugh09876554444 @boldlyimportantface@charmedkim @fruitlovertangerine @psiiconic @bubblezuku @sporadiccherryblossomfan @landryslove