#these don't match but WHAT CAN A GIRL DO

[simleez]

Sunghoon (2023.12.29)

[loving-jack-kelly]

spot and race get married and race puts a little bit of frosting on spot's nose to be cute and then she dunks his whole head in the cake rendering it inedible

[girlscience]

the RAMPANT consumerism on the section of youtube I have ended up on recently is actually kind of disgusting to me. if I see one more video of a perfectly manicured hand with a hint of a sweater sleeve putting things in a target cart or using 100 bottles for a skin and hair self-care day or using 50 different cleaning products in an enormous, pristine, white home while a random pop song remix plays in the background I'm going to start destroying things.

[adore-gregor]

my football team is so hopeless

[starpros-sunshine]

If I loved Wataei less I might be able to talk about them more....

[felixfathom]

if it were up to me though ??? felukagami. it sounds horrible at first but they could make it work in the right circumstances. that's what i believe

[omgeto]

☆ THRILL (h)ER! — SATOSUGU X READER

summary: when watching a scary movie with your two best friends, you cant help but hold onto them tight every time you get jumpscared. but as the night goes on and your fingers roam... wait, what movie were you watching again?

wc: 3.3k (its alll smut guys so give me a medal)

cw: double penetration, praising, slight degradation, gojo and geto bickering, fingering, dirty talk (?) and some fun loving you're their pretty little princess. afab!reader, MDNI

an: guys look I finally posted a fic for kinktober, yay me, I hope you like it since Id say the smut on this one hits different sooo give it a chance. also only big brains will understand the fic title.

KINKTOBER M.LIST.

your best friends, gojo and geto always have a way of making you feel right at home, especially when you find yourself in your favourite spot on the couch – sandwiched between them. geto's embrace is a gentle yet possessive one, his arms wrapped around you in a tender hold that radiates warmth, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your lower back.

to your side, gojo's long limbs seamlessly entwine with yours. your legs stretch over to meet him, creating an intimate tangle of limbs. his fingers trail leisurely up and down your thighs, their teasing caresses sending delightful shivers through your body. it's a familiar and electric sensation that's become an unspoken language among the three of you—one that hasn’t fully been enacted upon… yet.

"i don't know why you insist we watch this movie every year," geto complains, his gaze locked onto his b est friend, a playful frustration in his tone. "you're so predictable."

"oh, don't be a bore," gojo retorts, matching geto's glare before shifting his attention down to you. his voice is laced with mischief as he speaks to you. "you find it fun, don't you?" 

“what? do i like crappy slashers from the 80s with big titted damsels running from a shitly costumed killer?” you deadpan, your sarcasm evident. you could feel the vibration from geto as he lowly chuckles. gojo’s face forms a pout that prompts you to quickly add, “but i love them.”

gojo’s pout transforms into a triumphant grin as your admission earns you a playful nudge from him. “that’s my girl,” he exclaims, giving your thigh an excited rub as he turns on the movie.

geto, still chuckling softly, leans in closer. “well, i suppose if toru enjoys it, we can endure it one more time.” his words carry a hint of tenderness, his arm around you tightening ever so slightly, puling you closer into his embrace.                                                                            

you watch the movie in a comfortable silence, the only noise coming from the tv and gojo's oddly placed screams that you've come to expect every year. his over-the-top reactions to jump scares and gruesome scenes never fail to amuse you, and it's a source of endless entertainment for both you and geto.

geto, on the other hand, watches the movie with a more stoic expression, occasionally shaking his head at the implausible plot twists and unrealistic gore. His hand continues to rest on your thigh, his fingers now tracing soothing patterns as if to counterbalance the tension on the screen.

as the movie progresses, you notice how both gojo and geto steal glances at you when they think you're not looking, as their innocent touches progress into heavy petting. but there's a moment where you all pause, their movements stop, and you all look at each other as the loud sounds of exaggerated moans blare from the screen.

“i always forget this scene is in there,” gojo lies, with a snicker, an appreciative smile forming on his face as he watches the scene.gojo's arm remains draped around your shoulders, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your arm, while geto's touch has grown increasingly intimate, his hand resting on your hip, his thumb making slow, deliberate circles.

“oh don’t bullshit satoru,” geto accuses, taking his hand off of you for a second to send a jab into gojo’s side, “i know you’re getting off on watching this ditzy blonde getting laid.”

“not true,” gojo retorts childishly, “i think there’s better sights to get off on, isn’t that right?” he finishes casting his eyes, not so subtly, over to you.

“well i can’t lie and say the sights aren’t… appealing,” geto grins his hands coming back on you, toying with the hem of your shirt.

“you two are such guys,” you laugh, trying to remain nonchalant even though on the inside the pace of your heart was quickening, and every touch of their fingers sends jolts straight to your core. “you’re focusing on the wrong things here.”

“and what should we be focusing on here?” geto murmurs at you, you couldn’t see his face but you knew a smirk was plastered across it. his challenge hangs in the air as you pause, hesitating as you scan the room, your eyes meeting gojo’s trying to gauge if they are thinking what you are. geto can sense your hesitation as he feels your breathing still as you lean against him, so he pulls his finger under your chin turning your head to face him. “let us focus on you, come here.”

you lean in, his lips enclosing on yours in a deep kiss, you turn your body almost straddling him so you could get better access. his tongue enters your mouth, as his hands work down your body, and as the kiss intensifies, you’re aware of gojo’s gaze on you. you extend an inviting hand toward him, flashing him a smile as you pull away from geto and set your lips on your other friend.

gojo groans as your lips work with his, and his hands go straight into his pants, fisting his dick that has been hard all night just at the sight of you. geto cascades kisses down your neck as he starts to pull your shirt up off of you, you gasp at the feeling of both of their hands and lips all over you.

“h-how long have you two been planning this one then, huh?” you grin, a laugh escaping through your moans, as you let geto get rid of your shirt, assisting gojo with taking off your pants. 

“how long have we known you?” geto responds rhetorically, and gojo nod in agreement, as they both take off their jogging bottoms, leaving you all sitting on the couch in your underwear. there is no more hesitation, or uncertainty between you three—you all know exactly what you want.

“so who gets to have me first?” you joke, your eyes darting between the two of them, their lustful eyes are unmistakable as they stare at your body, their dicks straining against their boxers ready to be suffocated by your tight pussy.

“i get to!” gojo sputters out quickly, but he’s not as swift as geto who’s already pulled you back onto him, his fingers pushing into you without any warning. your mouth parts, as you let out a whine, as his long digits give your pussy fast, relentless strokes, he adds another finger, smirking as your body buckles against his. “hey no fair!” gojo pouts, side eyeing geto, but he can’t help biting his lip as he hears your cunt squelch everytime his best friend shoves his fingers into it.

“don’t worry, ‘toru,” geto reassures, his fingers curling up into you before he pulls it out swiftly, spreading your pussy apart and giving gojo a knowing look, “there’s room for the both of us.”

gojo eagerly drives his fingers into you from behind, his body pressing against yours as he charges your fingers into you. your moans increase as you feel a flurry of digits explore your pussy, gojo’s hand grips on his shoulder and geto hand holds your waist as they both tug your body back and forth in an attempt to get you closer to them.

“s-shit” you cry out, as you clench around their fingers, trying to keep them inside of you. you grind down against both of their fingers, your whimpers encouraging them to twist and push their fingers deeper into you.

“you see how much of a mess she gets for us?” geto asks gojo with a low chuckle, and gojo nods, smiling as the wetness of your pussy allows for his fingers to slide into you with ease, “press down on her clit. hard.”

“don’t tell me what to do,” gojo mutters, but he does it anyway. his thumb going straight to your clit, pushing down on it, smirking as you groan your back arching right into him. 

“see i told you,” geto chimes, laughing as gojo glares at him. geto’s focus shifts to you, as he pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them to your mouth, he holds your chin, placing his thumb on your bottom lip as he raises his eyebrows at you for permission. you nod lazily, opening your mouth, accepting two of his fingers —which are drenched in your juices. “‘toru, you gonna finish her off for me.”

gojo smirks, his fingers working in overdrive, as he adds another digit inside of you and you could feel yourself about to release. geto can tell you're close from the way you bite down on his fingers. “you close? you gonna cum on satoru’s fingers as you taste yourself?”

you couldn’t even respond, as your cum sprays all over gojo’s fingers and geto’s stomach. the boys both smirk at each other, as they hear your high pitched moans and see heaps of your cum spilling out of your pussy running down your thighs. gojo is in awe, his fingers still remain in you and he pushes them up lazily, trying to keep you plugged with your cum. you relax onto his fingers, letting him do as he pleases, as you try and catch your breath your body slumping onto geto’s.

“you did so well,” geto praises in his air, lifting up your head off your chest, pecking your lips softly. “you took both of our fingers letting us stretch your tight pussy, it felt good didn’t it?” 

“y-yeah it felt so good sugu,” you sigh, turning your head to face gojo, as you pull him closer into you, “you both felt so good.”

“you wanna let us stuff you further?” gojo questions eagerly, his hard dick resting on your ass, as rocks against you.

“satoru,” geto reprimands, shaking his head at his friends over excitement. but gojo shoots him a look shrugging as he presses his face into the crook of your neck, practically inhaling you.

“but suguru, she wants us both to stuff her,” he argues, as fingers already go back to your sobbing cunt. “you want that dont you?” he whispers, directly in your ear, slowly coaxing your pussy with soft strokes as he murmurs in your ear. “you want me and sugu to shove our dicks right up your pussy, together.”

“i don’t know if i can…” you hesitate, your voice faltering, but you pull your lip between your teeth, closing your eyes as you think about taking both of them.

“c’mon pretty girl,” geto persuades you, forcing you to open your eyes and look at the teasing smirk on your face, “don’t think we don’t know how slutty you can be. you know your greedy little cunt take both of us with ease, and you want it to, don't you?” you nod your head slowly in agreement, but geto shakes his, “no, we need to hear you say it. use your words. tell us what you want.”

“i want your dicks to stuff my pussy,” you admit, feeling your confidence grow as the smirk on geto’s face widens and you can hear gojo lowly growl in your ear. “i need it.”

“well we have to give our girl what she wants, right sugu?” gojo taunts, pulling you off of gojo and onto his lap, his dick slaps against your pussy. “suguru got to see your pretty face, before, so this time you’re all mine, okay?” gojo says to you, and you could hear geto kiss his teeth, but he obliges letting gojo have his way this time. 

“you ready for me?” gojo asks, waiting for your approval as he lifts you up slightly over his dick, he even looks over to geto he leans back against the couch, with his dick in his hand. you don’t even answer gojo, sliding down onto gojo as you moan together.

geto fists his dick at the sight, “go on satoru, fuck her,” he orders, his strokes increasing as he watches as gojo begin to thrust into you. your hands press down on gojo’s shoulder’s as you start to bounce on him, you lean forward whining straight in his ear, causing him fuck you harder.

gojo plays with your bra strap, pulling it and letting it release against your shoulder, “i don’t know why you’ve still got this on,” he complains, as brings his hands to the clasp of your bra, undoing it. your tits bounce as he pulls off your bra, and both boys smile at the sight. gojo’s fingers pull against both of your nipples, twisting and pulling at them causing you to cry at every tug. “so sensitive,” he mutters to himself, touching your tits inquisitively as he continues to toy with them, loving how with every touch your cries grow louder.

“it’s crazy how we stretched you so well earlier, but your pussy is still tight as fuck,” gojo comments, his words punctuated with every thrust. “i had all my fingers inside of you already, but your cock hungry cunt just can’t seem to get enough.”

“is he fucking you good?” geto calls, feeling himself about to cum, as he rubs against his dick hard. you look over to him and smile, nodding quickly as you wrap your hands around gojos neck, clinging to him as his dick drives into you. geto stands up, coming up behind you pressing a kiss on your neck, “you need me to help get you off?”

“she doesn’t need anything from you, i’m doing just fine,” gojo mumbles, but he lets you slightly raise up off of his dick and he smirks as he feels geto join him, geto’s dick presses against gojo in excitement as they wait in anticipation for you to enclose them with your pussy. 

“don’t be nervous,” geto coos from behind you, nipping at your ear. you look at gojo and he gives you an encouraging nod, and you slide back down onto them hissing in slight pain as you feel them both enter you. “it’s okay pretty, you’re doing so so well,” geto continues to reassure you, pressing soothing kisses down your neck, his lips sucking at your flesh. you all pause as you fully take them both in, and you feel the pain subside smiling at gojo giving him permission to move. 

geto follows suit, and you all move in tandem, fucking against each other. gojo places his hands on your ass, pushing your cheeks in pace with his movements whereas geto’s hands cup your tits, holding them firmly as he spreads his fingers over your nipples, rolling them.

“fu-fuck you two are too big, you can’t” you whine, clawing against gojo’s chest. they were both drilling into you relentlessly, you couldn’t catch your breath as every second you were being double stuffed with dick. tears spring to your eyes, as you cry out in pleasure, grinding down against them trying to get as much as them as possible. 

“if only you could see how slutty our girl looks,” gojo says to geto, as he watches your head fall back, another moan escaping your lips. “her eyes are all glossed over, she’s fucking crying, all slutted out on our dicks right now.”

“is that so?” geto mutters, he forces himself into you deeper, his back hitching up against yours, his clench on your tits tightening as he inches himself in your pussy, his hips slapping against you. “she’s such a good slut, i knew she’d be able to take us well, and look she’s loving it, already creaming all over us, isn’t that baby?”

you nod, your hand coming up to hold geto’s head as he nestles into your neck. you were losing your train of thought, you wanted to tell them how good they felt, how their dicks rubbing against each other in you was all you needed for the rest of you life, but when you open your mouth all that can leave your lips is incoherent words and moans. 

both of them smile, watching as you come undone on their dicks. gojo gives geto a nod, and their hands trade places. gojos fingers coming back to your tits, rubbing and pushing them apart before lowering his head to your chest, nuzzling your boobs. gojo and geto were so close that some things between them didn’t need to be spoken, and they were so close to you that they knew your body in and out. they knew when to push and pull, and where to suck just to get you cumming their lap.

“i’m s-so close, i’m gonna cu—” you try and speak out, but your mind is too far gone for you to finish. their dicks slip out of you as your bounces become sloppy, the pleasure too much for you but geto forces you back muttering reassurance in your neck. and the sudden contact causes you to cum, you release all over both them, but they don’t stop their movements, their dicks driving into you still, pushing back in all the cum you were letting out.

“satoru, we gonna give our girl one final stuffing?” geto prompts, and gojo nods, they both give you one final push and you could feel your pussy stretch as their cum sprays your walls. you wail out, the tears streaming your face as your body jerks forward, feeling their dicks go limp inside of you as you all pant in pleasure.

“that was fucking amazing,” gojo praises, a blissful smile on his face as he leans back his head resting on his arms. you return his smile, your lips meeting his in a quick kiss, that he groans at as you pull away. you come off his dick slowly, all of your eyes staring at the ropes of cum that immediately spill out of your pussy as he unplugs you. 

geto turns your head to face him, his dick still lodged deeply inside of you, he pulls you into a long kiss, his mouth smothering yours. he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, roughly biting down on it before releasing you, his hand cupping your chin, forcing you to stare up at him “you’re mine, my pretty slutty mess.”

“um she’s ours,” gojo chimes in, but geto shrugs, not caring to listen to your other friend. geto, finally pulls you off his dick, and your pussy clenches around nothing, already missing the feeling of their dicks.

“you too always know to take good care of me,” you exhale, exhausted your pussy sore about being stretched open by the two of them. geto pulls you back into his original hold, leaning back against his chest, and your legs stretch over gojo’s lap. but this time instead of innocent gentle touches, geto’s hands lazily tug at your nipples, and gojo caresses your naked thighs, his fingers flicking at your clit every now and again.

“that’s what friends are for,” geto muses, pressing his lips against your cheek before saying, “now satoru, are you gonna press play on this shitty movie or what?”

AN: ight so there you have it my FIRST FIC of kinktober, what do you guys think I need to hear all your thoughts since Ooooof this took me so long to write. so I hope it is worth it. also if you see my bias towards geto during this then LOOK AWAY, im sorry gojo stans but im a geto lover foreverrr. but yeahhh lmk ur thoughts stay tuned for my other kink tober fics which WILL be on time I promise smooches.

[astonmartinii]

ice, ice baby (literally) | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x raikkonen!reader

the ice man may have never spoken, but his daughter never shuts the fuck up

based on the request from @blue-skyandstars

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, sebastianvettel and 783,409 others

yourusername: taking names and kicking asses (and getting all assignments in on time with an appropriate amount of ass licking)

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user1: i love how she is so clearly kimi's daughter

user2: the only two blondes that don't freak me out

user3: insert that paris hilton clip "can i have two more of these little blonde bitches?"

maxverstappen1: what's an appropriate amount of ass licking and can i demonstrate on you?

maxverstappen1: wait! who said that?

yourusername: in your dreams car boy

maxverstappen1: trust me i see you in my dreams all the time

yourusername: so that's why you're always in the shower when i call you in the morning....

user4: i'm new here, are they together?

yourusername: wouldn't you like to know weather boy

maxverstappen1: she's actually my sleep paralysis demon, sorry to say

user5: they're so unserious

kimiraikkonen: keep those studies up i'm paying the bills

yourusername: i promise to use my status as a nepo baby for good papa 🫡

kimiraikkonen: proud of you.

user6: we love a self aware girly

user7: the raikkonen household really is the best balance, a guy who acts like talking causes him physical pain and a girl who couldn't shut the fuck up if she tried

yourusername: no way i'd rather it be

charles_leclerc: how many versions of that shirt do you have?

yourusername: enough...

charles_leclerc: and i'm the one who is a threat to national security when i go shopping

yourusername: that trouser collection should get you on some sort of list

user8: all these f1 drivers in her likes and comments and she's not cuffed... why is she fumbling so bad

yourusername: am I fumbling or are THEY?

user9: expose the dms please

yourusername: that would not be pg13 soz!

maxverstappen1

liked by kimiraikkonen, landonorris and 1,094,556 others

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maxverstappen1: oh look who decided to come back

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user10: max is so annoyed that she decided to go to school in the us that he makes all american fans lives hell by winning all the races

user11: so true of him

landonorris: matching books? you're such a simp

maxverstappen1: is a man forbidden to be in a book club? who backwards of you lando

yourusername: just because you can't read, don't take it out on us

landonorris: i can read!

yourusername: name the last book you read

yourusername: and that doesn't include searching your name on twitter

landonorris: can you go back already, you're so mean

yourusername: don't come for our two man book club if you can't handle the smoke

maxverstappen1: what she said

user12: i love how spring break starts and y/n doesn't even go to see her dad, straight to max

maxverstappen1: kimi is coming! i am NOT a bad friend who deprives y/n of her dad

user12: you're also scared of kimi

maxverstappen1: i'm also scared of kimi

danielricciardo: you're in my building and i don't get any baked goods... i see how it is

yourusername: as if max is allowed to eat them anyway they're for dad

danielricciardo: i promptly take back anything i've ever said

user13: max has got to be down bad to have that much baking equipment in his house when it's canon he can barely cook eggs

yourusername: if he wanted to he would

user14: is this confirmation?

yourusername: i hope those are paper straws you're grasping at

maxverstappen1: why wouldn't i make sure i have the equipment to get my worker bee to make me sweet treats (don't read that rupert)

user15: i'm on to you two ... there's something shady going on here

sebastianvettel

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sebastianvettel: she's too old, i miss when she was a nice and polite child

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user19: annual god father seb appearance

user20: y/n please work your magic to get him to a race this weekend

yourusername: i'm working on it! watch out for suzuka

user21: the people's princess truly

yourusername: rude! i am a very polite young woman 🙁

sebastianvettel: yes you are, but also when you were ten you didn't bother me with your love life

sebastianvettel: and you weren't so fussy with food

yourusername: I AM NOT FUSSY I JUST HAVE AN ACQUIRED TASTE

sebastianvettel: you asked me to uninvite lewis to our dinner plans because you "hate that quinoa shit, i'm hungry enough to kill a horse with my bare hands"

yourusername: and i'd say it again!

lewishamilton: first of all: rude. second of all: i knew there was a reason you and max get on so well - BLAND

maxverstappen1: just because my food doesn't turn my shit green or couldn't accidentally be sold in the rabbit section of the pet store doesn't make me BLAND

yourusername: i don't trust a man who makes non-alocholic tequila THE FACT IT GETS YOU DRUNK IS THE BEST PART OF THE TEQUILA ONLY WEIRDOS DRINK TEQUILA FOR THE TASTE

lewishamilton: gasp! you said you liked it!

yourusername: i try to be supportive okay :(

user22: well that was something

user23: max always coming to the rescue ... makes you think

charles_leclerc: i am sensing some blatant favouritism here

mickschumacher: i never get invited on baking weekends :(

yourusername: snooze you lose ladies

sebastianvettel: this is exactly what i mean y/n

yourusername: my bad! i'm sorry my god father loves me more than you :p get well soon

sebastianvettel: that's not-

charles_leclerc: consider yourself in beef

yourusername: it's on babe

user24: gosh i'm so confused WHO THE FUCK DO I WANT TO GET WITH HER

yourusername

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yourusername: boy, oh, boy am i ready to finish this semester

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user26: i see tulips i do deduce that they are from max verstappen 🤓👆

user27: i hate you invasive leeches (i believe this and it is now my personal headcanon)

maxverstappen1: SEAT BELT PLEASE

yourusername: i swear i did 😫

maxverstappen1: you need to protect the precious goods

landonorris: you never tell me that 🙁

maxverstappen1: you're not precious goods, hope this helps x

landonorris: i see how it is

yourusername: don't hate the player, hate the game lando

user28: they've either got the single most flirtatious friendship ever to exist or they're together

user29: if they are just friends and those flowers are from her actual gf - i am not being dramatic but i would take a long walk off a short plank

user30: i feel like they'd be the ultimate cockblocks for each other 😭

kimiraikkonen: proud of you bub

yourusername: i am losing hair from academic stress i hope you're happy papa

kimiraikkonen: i am 👍🏻

yourusername: i am losing hair - LOSING HAIR THIS IS A BIG DEAL YOU PAY FOR MY APPOINTMENTS

kimiraikkonen: you need a college education so you're not wasting all of my money - i also pay your sorority dues so be nice to me

yourusername: i'm tired let me be the low effort nepo baby i am meant to be

user31: can kimi raikkonen pay for my hair appointments too?

jensonbutton: is that MY CAR?

yourusername: you put me on the insurance?

jensonbutton: yeah for when your car was in the shop - i thought shelby was still in my garage?

yourusername: not to victim blame but having so many cars you don't notice one is gone, that's on you

jensonbutton: @KIMIRAIKKONEN YOUR KID STOLE MY CAR

yourusername: britt gave me the keys !!!!!!

kimiraikkonen: you got duped by a 21 year old, that's not my fault

user32: kimi when y/n jokes about dropping out 🤨 kimi when y/n steals one of jenson's cars 🥹

maxverstappen1

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maxverstappen1: ice, ice baby (except you're smoking hot)

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user35: WHOOP WHOOP LET'S FUCKING GO

user36: max already having the approval of kimi, that's my king

maxverstappen1: make no mistake i went to the raikkonen household with many offerings before i asked for his permission

user37: and if he had said no?

maxverstappen1: i would've asked y/n regardless 🫡

kimiraikkonen: 🤨

maxverstappen1: uh? i'm digging my own grave but i love your daughter so that's all the matters right? RIGHT?

kimiraikkonen: 🙄

maxverstappen1: WOULD IT KILL YOU TO USE THE KEYBOARD I'M HAVING A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN HERE

user38: the way max got given approval on live tv with more words than we've heard from kimi at any point in his career and he's still a shaking mess

user39: anxious girl representation

yourusername: you melted this icicle

maxverstappen1: eh i think you've always been a softy

charles_leclerc: like softserve ice cream? shop @lec now!

maxverstappen1: do you fucking mind?

yourusername: really? on the post of my boyfriend professing his love?

charles_leclerc: god forbid a guy chases the bag (also he called you smoking hot, that's hardly a profession of love)

maxverstappen1: you little rat

yourusername: lifetime supply of lec and a flavour named after us and consider yourself forgiven

charles_leclerc: i don't need your approval that much

yourusername: @kimiraikkonen @sebastianvettel you seeing this shit?

charles_leclerc: fine... weaponising your dad and god father is a low blow

yourusername: also! i love you baby - thank you for putting up with my constant yapping xx

maxverstappen1: i love you even more, i can't wait for you to finish college so i never have to share you ever again

kimiraikkonen: 🤨

maxverstappen1: AND YOUR LOVELY FAMILY

yourusername: they love you really maxy don't worry

yourusername

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tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: i'm so talented, i brought three more championships to the family without even getting into the car

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user40: okay idk why yall were shipping anyone else, i've seen one picture of them being cute and am sold

user41: i'm so convinced this happened cause max saw people were convinced she was with other people on the grid and he had to mark his territory

maxverstappen1: yes i was jealous but can you blame me? prettiest girl in the world actually wanted me back. i will not fumble this

user42: i need my man to be this down bad for me

kimiraikkonen: cute.

yourusername: thank you papa xxx

maxverstappen1: THANK YOU KIMI, LOVE YOU KIMI

yourusername: i think he gets it babe...

maxverstappen1: first time i've got a non-emoji answer, i will savour it

user43: oh my i love them your honour

sebastianvettel: happy for you guys, see you guys soon

yourusername: love you seb!

maxverstappen1: thanks for the vote of confidence seb

sebastianvettel: you may be a literal nightmare child, but you're our nightmare child now

kimiraikkonen: what he said

maxverstappen1: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH (i am ignoring that you called me a nightmare child, i was 17 give me a break)

yourusername: you guys he's crying hahahahahah

maxverstappen1: i just love you guys (y/n more)

yourusername: i love you too xx

user44: so liked now we've got the relationship reveal... when do we get both y/n and kimi in the red bull garage

user45: lets up the stakes and get max, kimi and seb in the 24 hours of le mans

yourusername: oh now you've started it - he's already on the phone to adrian

maxverstappen1: am i the first nepotism boyfriend?

kimiraikkonen: you might be the favourite of the in-laws if you get me a le mans win

maxverstappen1: y/n is an only child? i'm the only in law?

kimiraikkonen: yes?

maxverstappen1: I'M ON THE PHONE TO ADRIAN

yourusername: did i just lose my boyf to my dad?

fin.

note: babe the writer's block is back. but i'm fighting it. hope yall enjoyed this!

[lina-lovebug]

I'd Fight The Devil

Alastor x fem! reader

Background: (Y/N) is the elder Morningstar, and wants to fix her relationship with her dad. But her dad hates her boyfriend.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 - Finale

Allusions to sex, actual sex, angel being angel, and cannibalism

_____

Angel spit out his drink, "You're with Alastor?!"

"Yeah, thoughts?"

"And prayers, girl," Angel could never imagine a sweet girl like (Y/N) getting it on with the Radio Demon himself.

But everyone has their kinks, he supposed.

Alastor manifested behind her, and she immediately felt his presence. Pressing herself against him, he leaned into her warmth and kept his arms around her shoulders.

"How was your day, mon amour?"

"It'll be even better," She trailed off, turning around to face him, "when we meet my dad for dinner."

Silence.

And not even radio silence.

"Not to be rash, but I'm sure your father would sooner see my head on a pike than on my body," Alastor adored the fact that she was mending their bond, even more so when Lucifer makes the effort.

But announcing their relationship to him?

He could see it ending in flames.

"I know you two don't get along, but I thought a nice dinner might smooth things over."

"And if he disapproves of us?" He lifted her head upwards with his finger, bemused as to what her answer may be.

"Then he'll have to get used to it," (Y/N) replied, sending a shiver of excitement up his spine.

Only a feeling that the she-devil he was utterly obsessed with could provide.

"Ugh, can you guys go fuck somewhere else?" Angel said, "or at all? I can't imagine going a lifetime without dick."

Alastors eye twitch, "now that's our business, isn't it?"

"Okay, okay," Charlie spoke up, "you guys go get ready."

Charlie couldn't help but notice the change in Alastor. It had only been a few months, but being in her sisters presence alone has made him kind. Sure, the both of them would skin someone alive over an insult, but Alastor would rip out his own eyes if (Y/N) asked.

A perfect match.

(Y/N) dawned a black dress with a pearl necklace that Alastor bought for her. Well, she thinks he bought it but he actually stole it off of a fresh kill.

How sweet.

"Pumpkin! Oh look at you! You're as radiant as ever!" Lucifer fawned over his daughter as they made it to the restaurant, making it a point to ignore the red demon behind her.

"Catching strays?" Lucifer gestured to him.

"Lovely to see you again," Alastor retorted.

"Dad, why don't we go inside? And Alastor will be joining us," now, Lucifer didn't forget what he said. He recognized that the fearsome deer demon had the intention of claiming Princess (Y/N) as his own, but did his daughter return such feelings?

Honestly, Lucifer feared that.

Not it being Alastor persay, but his little girls being hurt.

He knew how awful it felt to go through the divorce with Lilith, and then her disappearance.

He didn't ever want his daughters to feel that way.

"So, Alastor, what do you do again?"

"I have a radio broadcast. Your daughter has actually helped me repair the studio after the attack," He laid his land on hers.

And Lucifer picked up Alastors hand.

And placed it away from hers.

"Uh, dad-"

"Look, if you two are fucking, don't tell me."

"Dad!" Her face burned red, "we aren't-that's not. . .I love Alastor, and he loves me. I want you to accept us both."

"Love? Whoa, whoa, whoa! Pumpkin, I don't think-"

"I'm not a little kid," She interrupted, "I'm a grown woman, and I'm able to make my own decisions. I want to be with Alastor because I love him. You may not think I know what love is, but I know it's what I feel with Alastor."

That's when he saw it.

That look.

Whilst (Y/N) was defending herself, defending their love, Alastor looked at her. Only her. And it was like he was staring at the nebula itself, seeing all its beauty in the Heir of Hell. His smile faltered, closing his mouth, and his eyes softened.

It's the same look that he used to give Lilith.

"If I ever hear that you've made her cry, or even laid a single hand upon her," Lucifer stared him down, "I'll make you disappear."

"A man true to his word. Looks like we have something in common," Alastor agreed, his hand back on hers. She gave him a smile, one that reminded him of Lilith.

The rest of dinner went off without any incidents. The small jab here and there, but no one died, and no one was stabbed. Lucifer learned more about his daughters business and how she lit up talking about it.

"You hardly ate, Alastor. Is something wrong?" (Y/N) asked when her father went to the restroom.

"Oh no, my dear. Just hungry for something else, is all," His eyes raked up her form, earning a cough from the she-devil.

Honestly, she didn't know where he was on his spectrum. She was fine never even being intimate, so long as he was happy, but this spark in his eyes lit a fire within her.

"O-oh. . .are you sure?" Believe it or not, (Y/N) had only had sex twice and both times she'd call it lackluster.

"I don't want you to force yourself if you don't want to," oh how innocent she was. Honestly, Alastor assumed he was aroace before he met the she-devil. Her ferocity - her chaos in fights, her genuine kindness, and her soul - itself brought out that spark.

There are moments where the carnal desire needs to be satisfied.

"Mon cher, I'd never ask if I didn't mean it."

That look, it made her softly gasp.

"Alast-"

"Ew."

Right.

Lucifer.

He showed up from his restroom break and found the pair giving eachother "fuck me" eyes.

"Could I eat my dinner without you groping my child?" Lucifer hissed, despite Alastor only touching her hand.

He blinked, thinking how he's never even groped a woman.

"Maybe."

Sick bastard.

_ _ _ ☆ _ _ _

"Fuck! Alastor!"

(Y/N) had never cum before, so Alastor being her first to ever do so and smiling away at her quivering legs made it so much better.

"Oh fuck. . ." She moaned weakly, his tongue slithering in and out of her to lick up every last drop.

"Al. . ." She was breathless, staring at his strained member. Reaching up to unzip his pants, he tutted as he grabbed her wrist.

"Al?"

"It's about you. Don't worry about me, amour," He purred, kissing the bite marks on her thighs.

"But you-"

Before she could detest further, wishing to satisfy him, the door opened.

"Oh my God, they were right! Alastor, you sly dog," Angel Dust was at the door, and Alastor quickly covered his beloveds' body with the covers before his horns started to grow and his back stretched.

"I'm going to kill you."

"Not before you make love to me, you're not," still in his demonic form, (Y/N) blew a gust of wind to slam the door shut.

Her body displayed on the bed, Alastor agreed.

"And stay in that form. It suits you."

[clandestineloki]

strawberry bliss (nsfw)

the part 2 to strawberry sweet ❤️

summary: miguel loves using his strength on you ;)) and this little snippet of you guys watching a replay of his recent game shows just that, with some sweet lil fluff and playful banter :)) and then miguel fucks u so good he hits your factory reset and you go back to being a lil shy babie around him oh no :3

tw: he also finds out you have a daddy kink, mention of shane dawson (derogatory), mention of physical violence (bros a wrestler what did you expect), overstimulation, a bit of breeding kink, heavy praise kink, a bit of humiliation but on the sweet side

A/N: this takes place about a year or so after strawberry sweet, where miguel and reader are in an established relationship and make quippy cute banter with each other

A/N # 2: pls reblog so we can turn more ppl into whores 💖

💕 hope you enjoy! 

===

"BABYY THE COMMERCIALS ARE OVER!"

Miguel runs from the bathroom and meets you in the kitchen, you with the tray of strawberry drinks squealing as he tickles your waist.

"AHH IT'S GONNA SPILL!!!" you scream, and he backs off, smiling as you regain your balance.

You balance the smoothie cups on the tray and move forward, but Miguel blocks your way. 

"M'scuse me, I have a game to watch," you pout up at him, but he doesn't budge.

"Mister, my boyfriend will be very angry if he finds out I'm late to the game >:( "

"Aww, such a shame, pretty girl... can't I just get a little kiss?"

"Let me through!"

"Can't, hermosa, you gotta say the password right up against my lips~ the password is mwah mwah mwah i love you miguel you're so handsome miguel~"

"You're cheesy," you roll your eyes, and he laughs as you set the tray down in front of the bed facing the TV. "I want the old Miguel back, he was cute and he had actual rizz."

He slumps against the couch. "The Miguel that was a total pervert over your old smoothie girl uniform?"

"Oh my gosh, I totally forgot about the uniform!" You giggle. "I hated it. Did you know on my first day they gave me a size too small and they had the audacity to try and gaslight me by saying I got fat?"

"Fucking weirdos," he pulled you into his arms, your back against his chest." Glad I got you out of that mess, mm?"

"It was just one mess into another, Mig, you made me your sugar baby," you tease, and his face scrunches up.

"Bebita, I may be rich but I'm not your sugar daddy. I'm just two years older than you."

"But think about it, I was sixteen when you were eighteen! Like- that's two years but the maturity difference is huge! That's creepy, Miguel. You wanna go to jail?"

"Ay, por dios. We're in our twenties, we met in our twenties. End of discussion. And I've already been to jail. Twice."

"What?!"

"Ay! ay! end of discussion. The match is starting," he pinches your nose then turns to watch the TV just as the host's opening spiel ends. Miguel feels you sit up in his grip when the crowds on the TV cheer as he comes up on screen, flashing a grin to the audience.

"Ew, who's that?" you mumble, cheeks stuffed with popcorn and Miguel snorts, rolling his eyes.

"That's me, your boyfriend, the guy who's gonna absolutely obliterate downgraded Shane Dawson in about..." he snaps his fingers just as his opponent comes out on screen. "Fifty-eight seconds."

"I really don't see the resemblance, Miggy, you're just being a bully."

"Y'know," he pulls you closer, absentmindedly kissing your neck as he feels you squirm in his hold. "I don't get how you let the physical violence slide but I compare some white guy to Shane Dawson and you call me a bully."

Your face heats up a little, and you turn away, mumbling shyly. "C-cause you look really badass when you throw them around like that... "

"Mmm?" he teases, nuzzling his nose in your neck. "I do?"

He feels you freeze up and chuckles, his hands trailing down to your thighs.

"Y-yeah," you whisper... "a bit..."

"Oh, and you like how strong I am, hmm? Is that what it is?"

It's cute how you shake your head and brush his hands away to turn up the volume on the TV, when he just goes right back to kneading your breasts and riling you up.

"Querida, you gotta answer me, y'know I can't understand you when you mumble like that~"

"What was the question?" you mumble, looking up at him with what he knows for sure are the most adorable bunny eyes he's ever fucking seen.

"I said," he nibbles down on your ear with a little growl, "do you get off like a cute little bunny when I show off? Is my baby that kinky~?"

" I-I... maybe..." you twitch as his fingers toy with your nipples. "Miggy, please..."

"Please what baby? Please stop or please give me more?" 

Miguel knows the answer, obviously. It's just that he can't get over the fact that he landed the prettiest girl with the cutest stutter when she's nervous.

"Please..." you whisper.

He chuckles against your ear, leaning in and lowering his voice just the way he knows you like it, especially when he's buried all the way inside you.

"Please what."

The tiniest gasp comes out of your lips. "Please... please f-fuck me... please?" 

Before you can even finish, you're over his shoulder and on the bed as he kisses everywhere on your face, growling at the inconvenience of the fact that he cant hold you still and fondle your chest at the same time.

"M-Miguel..." you whimper, twitching in sensitivity. "You're always teasing me..."

"Oh?" he mocks you, flipping you over on your stomach and gripping your hips, leaning in real slow to drawl darkly in your ear. "I'm the tease here? When you're shaking your little ass all over me? You rile me up like this and expect me not to fuck you the way you deserve? hmm?"

"S-Sorry..." you mumble, and Miguel laughs breathily, having the time of his life making you all shy and embarrassed.

"S'okay, baby, you just gotta make up for it, yeah?"

With a playful swat to your ass, he rips off your shorts and his fingers tease your folds through your panties.

"Miguel..."

"Yes...?" he kisses the arch in your back, smirking when your thighs tremble.

"Please hurry..." you gasp.

"Don't worry baby, you'll be asking me to slow down real soon~" 

===

His favorite sight of all time is you underneath him, with that blissed out look on your face and your chest heaving as he fucks every choked breath out of those pretty lips.

"Fuck, bebita," he whispers. "Creaming all over my fingers like the cute little plaything you are?"

You whimper, closing your thighs shakily, but his free hand just forces your legs apart and he curls his two fingers in you, tickling your pussy and making his hand even wetter.

"Hmm? What did you say?" Miguel mumbles close to your ear, and makes sure that at the precise moment you try to speak he speeds up his fingers, making your words melt away in warm red pleasure as more juices coat his fingers.

"S'too much..."

"Bebita, you asked for this," he whispers darkly. "We're not even halfway done."

You mewl out his name and turn your head to the side. He takes it as an opportunity to bite down on your neck and relish in the high-pitched pleasure drunk squeal that forces out of you as your little pussy sucks in his fingers.

"Shit. I can't take it anymore," he grumbles, his fingers moving even faster as he leans closer, forcing you flat against the bedsheets as you moan and cream all over his fingers like a cute little bunny, just too pleasure-drunk to utter even a word.

"Come for me baby," Miguel almost begs. "Come for me so I can fuck you the way I know you want me too, okay?"

You gasp at his dirty talk, and he laughs at the fact that you never stop getting shy when he says these things.

Or when your little pussy makes those wet noises when you're really really close.

"Fuck you're so cute," Miguel grins, licking the tears falling from your hazy eyes. "So sweet, letting me do whatever I want with you~ Come for me, gatita, you know you want to~"

Your moans make him grin and he thumbs at your sensitive little bud. His teasing sends you over the edge and you gasp and whimper, clinging onto him as he helps you through your third orgasm.

When you come down from it, Miguel is smirking down at you, and licking his fingers clean of your juices, humming lowly as his tongue traces his long fingers sensually.

"Wanna taste it right off your pretty pussy baby," he whispers, making you blush. "But I'll save that for later~"

He really means he'll save it for when you're too fucked out to close your pretty legs around his head.

Miguel kisses your hips as he flips you over again, tracing his rough hands over your ass and thighs, making you shiver and mumble something he almost can't hear.

"Daddy..."

His wandering hands freeze.

He grins.

"What was that?" he teases.

Your breath stutters.

"What- I-"

He leans in dangerously close, pinning you down on the bed with your ass right against his throbbing hard cock.

"What did you just call me?" he drawls, and you whimper.

"I-I called you Daddy," you bury your head in the pillows. "S-Sorry... if it makes you uncomfortable-"

Miguel thrusts his hips forward, sinking halfway into your wet, warm little cunt. The squelching of your little hole is nothing compared to the pure, unadulterated, sinful noise of pleasure that leaves your lips.

"Oh," Miguel groans. "That made me reallyfuckin' uncomfortable alright."

Your thighs shake as he sinks in really really slowly, making sure you feel every inch of him stretch you out.

"Say it again."

You gasp, tears forming in your eyes. "It's embarrassing..."

"Fuck, you really have to do all these things that make you so lovable, huh?" He groans, pulling your wrists and holding your arms behind your back. "Got the cutest little face, the cutest little pussy, and you always got these little kinks that make you so cute~"

He starts moving his hips, making you slur out his name and clench around him.

"My cute little milkshake girl, doing all these cute things for me and no one else," he whispers, and you nod helplessly,

Miguel runs his hands up and down your waist, making you sigh and whimper into the pillows.

"Wanna repeat what you said? No one's around, baby, just you and me. No need to be shy~"

"Daddy..."

"Fuck, you really are such the perfect little cutie, aren't you?" Miguel teases, pounding you harder.

It's music to his ears when you finally get to that stage of it, just uncontrollably whimpering and moaning and making all these noises of pleasure as you let him do whatever he wants to you.

"C'mon, say it again, another time won't hurt~"

"Such a t-tease..." you whine, and he chuckles fondly, pressing a kiss to your sensitive neck.

"Sorry, baby, not my fault you're so fucking adorable," he groans, shuddering when you clench down on him. "Daddy's close, baby, wanna come with me? Feel good together, hmm? Can you even understand me you dumb little baby?"

Miguel coos as you take in high-pitched breaths and gasps. Your tiny fists clench the sheets shakily, and your thighs thump helplessly with every thrust of his hips.

"Come back to me, baby," he whispers as his thrusts get sloppier. "Help me out one list time, kay? Wanna be my good girl?"

"Mhm..."

"Ah," he laughs. "Daddy broke his pretty baby so bad? Sorry, gatita, you just feel too good. Let's come together, okay? I'll get us there, baby~"

You whimper loudly one last time, creaming helplessly around his cock. Miguel pins your back down onto the bed, leaning in and growling right against your ear as his orgasm takes over as well, making sure you take every bit of his cum inside you.

The twitching of your thighs finally slows as Miguel pulls out, turning you onto your back and lightly running his hands up your thighs, waist, and breasts, kneading them softly and eliciting a whine from your lips.

"So sensitive," he pinches your nipple, making you gasp. "But I'll keep my hands to myself... for now."

You blush at those words, nuzzling into his neck as he chuckles at your bashfulness.

"Didn't know my good little girl had a Daddy kink. So cute," he whispers. "Got the sweetest little baby all to myself~."

Miguel brushes his lips against yours, smiling when he tastes a hint of strawberry,

His second favorite sweet thing in the goddamn world.

"Oh, baby~" he coos. "You felt so fucking good. Can we go again, gatita?"

You whimper, twitching helplessly, and blushing at the feeling of his fingers toying with the cum trickling down your thighs.

But you don't say no.

[lovesphases]

rafe x bitch!reader

pt. 2

just thinking about rafe with reader who is (usually) so quick to ghost a man and never puts up with bullshit.

you and rafe had been fucking around for some time, yet to put a label on your relationship. rafe being rafe, didn't let that stop him from flirting with girls at parties, even taking some upstairs. god forbid you do the same. when rafe had spotted you flirting with jj he was quick to put a stop to that.

"the fuck do you think you're doing? get the fuck away from my girl." rafe had stormed over to where you and jj stood, yanking you away from him.

"sorry man." the pouge raised his hands in surrender before walking away. you quickly spun around to face rafe.

"you're fucking delusional you know that?" you poke at your chest, you were so angry you were pretty sure there was steam coming from your ears.

"watch how you talk to me. you're mine, i don't want that dirty fucking pogue thinking he can get into your pants." rafe glared down at you, his anger matching yours.

"oh my fucking god, you are such a fucking loser. getting pissy at me for me to talking with another man when you have bitches all over you constantly. im not yours, if i want to fuck another man i will. get. a. fucking. grip." you tap his temple with your finger, emphasizing each word.

rafe grabs your face, painfully squishing your cheeks together. "who the fuck do you think you're talking to. huh?" his face contorted with anger, its taking everything in him to not bend you over in front of everyone and remind you who's really in charge. you yank his hand away from your face.

"im talking to the person behind you. no im obviously fucking talking to you dumbass. you better watch who you're talking to. i don't know what kind of other bitches you were with before me, but i am not one of them. now get your fucking hands off of me." you shove him away from you, turning on your heel and walking away, leaving rafe behind you fuming.

[cow-smells]

Worth your While | Opla! Sanji x reader

Request: I've read that you are in the need for some Sanji request or ideas so here's one for a fic :D

The crew gets into a fight ( it can be the Navy or anither pirate crew) and the reader gets badly hit and Sanji just loses his shit seeing the person that he cared for the most getting knocked out?? I just genuinely wanna see Sanji just go ape shit on people because of it XD and maybe hiw the others in the clue will react to seeing Sanji like that? @smolracoon25

Summary: You and Sanji have been playing the flirting game for way too long. When you get injured, Sanji shows a side of himself you had yet to see.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: none

A/n: I'm going purely off the live-action so pls have that in mind, also I'm just getting back in to the rhythm of writing after such a long time so sorry if this is poop/ooc/both, love ya :)

Read on AO3

“Don't you ever take a break?”

Zoro's voice coming from behind startled you, forcing you to break your longing gaze at Sanji who was fishing at the bow of the ship. “Huh?” came your wise response.

Zoro looked from you to Sanji. “You've been making moon eyes at him for months now. Don't you get tired? Or are you waiting for him to take his shift staring at you so that you can clock off?”

You felt heat rising to your cheeks. This was far from the first time crew members commented about you and Sanji's – whatever was going on between you two – but this was the first time Zoro called you out so blatantly.

When you didn't respond, Zoro went on. “I just came to tell you we should be docking soon. I'll leave you the pleasure of telling the cook.” with that, he left.

You closed the book on your lap. You really did have the intention of reading when you first head out to the deck, having some time to kill, but then... you noticed Sanji. At first you thought you'd go sit with him for a while, flirt and banter a little as you always do, but you found yourself absorbed in taking him in instead. He was different when he was alone. The way he looked so focused, so deep in thought when it was just him and the sea. Maybe even a little sad. So different from his usual sunny exterior that he put on when he was with people. Falling in to deep thoughts wondering what he might be thinking about – maybe about you? - you sat and stared, not reading as much as a word.

The book discarded, you felt a spring in your step as you made your way to the ship's chef.

The creaking floorboards alerted your arrival. Sanji turned to see who was creeping up on him, and when he saw you, he set his fishing rod aside as a wide smile grew on his lips, his dimples deepening and making your heart miss a beat. “There's my favourite girl. Come here, let me hear all about your day.” Sanji held his arms open, beckoning you to come sit on his lap.

The flirting was nothing new. When you first joined the Strawhats, Sanji was as flirty to you as he was to any other woman; he did not expect to meet his match in you. You were quick to play along, always one-upping him, dancing along the line that separated playfulness and seriousness, never quite picking a side.

The problem was, in reality, you had chosen a side long ago.

You would flirt and giggle and make him blush but never actually act upon anything. Neither would Sanji. He, however, took your playing along as though it was a battle to be won. Sanji would flirt, you'd reply with something raunchy, he would surprise you with something heartfelt. It was as though he knew exactly where to hit in order to get you a little closer to buckling, every time. As time went on he had become so devoted to your back and forth that you noticed he had gradually abandoned all other efforts flirting with other women, to focus entirely on you.

You had to remind yourself that this was a game to him. An instinct, almost. It hurt to think of your relationship that way, but you had to keep that thought at the forefront of your mind if you didn't want to fall even harder for him.

So you would continue to play along, even if that's all that you could have with him.

You chose not to indulge him completely – that was too dangerous for you – and so you opted to bend a knee over the armrest of his chair. Close, but no contact. “Come on, Sanji,” you bent your head in what felt like a bashful manner and said, “you know I spent all day thinking of you.”

You weren't sure if he was blushing or if that was just your wishful thinking. Composing himself, Sanji wrapped an arm around you to hold your waist, lightly tracing circles on your hip. “I beg of you, darling – next time, come find me instead of just thinking of me. I'll make it worth your while.”

You wanted to ask, how will you make it worth my while? Just to hear Sanji go in to detail of what you've been fantasizing about for months. But instead, you opted for a tamer response. “I came to tell you we're docking soon. Maybe I'll find you then and you could make it worth my while with a drink.”

Without missing a beat, Sanji took hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips. “There's nothing I'd enjoy more.” With that, he kissed your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.

Docking started out normal. Everyone knew what their usual chores were when you reached a town, restocking and fixing so that the ship would be in top condition for its next leg of the journey in your search for the One Piece. So while Sanji went in to town to restock on groceries (you didn't pay much attention to the others), you, Nami and Usopp stayed around the ship to fix up some of the damage it took when you last encountered a rival pirate ship. That also happened to be the reason it was just you three when the same rival pirates noticed your ship docked, ready to take their revenge.

The three of you had your individual talents, but you just weren't enough to hold up against an entire rival crew. They had attacked so suddenly and so fiercely – it didn't take long before you were on the sand, fighting to stay conscious. You lost that fight as you watched Usopp try his best to fight off three attackers at once.

You really thought that would be the end for you. You should have known better; it was Sanji's voice you heard as you regained consciousness, motivating you to open your eyes despite the pain that flooded your body.

The beach area all around you was covered with pirates who were taken down, just like you – only that they were your enemies. You first noticed Nami's orange hair – she seemed to be taking care of a bleeding Usopp, his condition worse than yours. Following Sanji's voice, you found him holding the last one of the rival crew by his shirt, throwing punches like you've never seen him before. It took you aback – thinking about it, you had never seen Sanji use his hands in combat. Too precious – need them for cooking, he'd once told you before adding, the only thing more precious to me is you. It had made you blush at the time before you had laughed him off. Now, you were questioning if it was a joke at all.

The man Sanji was holding wasn't putting up a fight – he was far too battered for that, but Sanji didn't stop. He was too far away for you to understand what he was saying to the guy, but focusing hard, you could just about make out half sentences – "to hit a woman" – "don't deserve to breath" – "finish you" – you searched for the strength to get up and stop him. You had never seen Sanji – your happy, cheerful Sanji – so angry, feral even. It scared you a little; but mostly, you knew Sanji would regret it if he were to kill a man who no longer posed a threat. So you grasped at the sand, forcing your aching bones to pick yourself up. But as you were regaining your balance, Sanji finally threw the man to the sand, a look of disgust painting his handsome features. "Finally made a date with her and you ruined it... You hurt her. You're lucky I don't kill you." The man groaned in pain.

In a sharp change, his features went from anger to concern as he finally left the man and turned to where he last saw you laying. His eyes were full of honest pain, until he saw you on your feet – then they read of hope. "Y/n!" Sanji called, rushing to you as he could see your struggle to stand upright. "You- I-" he scanned your body as he reached you, taking in all visible injuries. "Are you – are you okay? Can I help you?" he reached an arm around your waist, waiting for your approval before he held on to help you stay up, so afraid he might hurt you.

"Thanks." his arm around you really helped you to stay up. It was a practical measure, sure, any one of your crew mates would do the same – but when you look up and meet Sanji's eyes, you know that the tense feeling between you two wouldn't have been replicated with anyone else. "I mean it. You saved us. We'd... I'd be lost without you." at that, Sanji smiled that deep-dimpled smile of his at you, the playfulness not reaching his still-concerned eyes.

"Y/n," he started. "are you really flirting with me, at a time like this?"

It was strange how despite all your injuries, you felt less and less of the pain the longer you leaned in to Sanji, close enough to smell his fragrance. A half-smile reached your lips. You couldn't play this game any longer. "Did you really beat that guy up that bad because he ruined what should have been our... date?"

Sanji tensed, obviously not ready to have this conversation now. His gaze dropped momentarily before he wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him. "I had a hundred reasons to kill him," Sanji said, and you felt disappointment bubbling through you until he continued, "but the most pressing reason is that he ruined our date."

Sanji took the opportunity to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear and you couldn't help but smile so big you were embarrassed by it. "I really wanted that drink with you, away from the ship and everyone else. Just us."

You recomposed yourself. You needed clarity. "I'm not playing anymore, Sanji."

Sanji chuckled. "Fancy that. I was never playing at all."

You must have forgotten how to breath at all when he leaned down, his hand finding a rest on your neck as his thumb caressed your cheek. Nearly a whisper, he asked – "Can I kiss you?"

You leaning in served as the consent he searched for. After months of pining over each other, wondering what it would be like – his lips met yours, in a mixture of softness and passion like you'd never felt before. Forgetting you were injured at all you sneaked your arms around his neck, pulling him in, almost afraid of letting this anticipated moment of passion go. Sanji was more than happy to pull closer, a hand on your lower back holding you impossibly close to him.

The moment did, however, find its end as you heard your Captain whoop and holler from afar. "Yeah! Way to go, Sanji! About damn time!"

Breaking the kiss, Sanji nodded at Luffy, his smile lines prominent as he looked the proudest you'd ever seen him.

The crew was more than happy to make a quick exit that night, preferring to not stay around until the rival crew regained their strength. You were helping Nami untie the ropes anchoring the ship to the dock when she said, "I really thought he was going to kill him earlier." you didn't know how to respond. "I've never seen Sanji like that." Nami managed to untie a knot, and Zoro began pulling the rope up on to the ship. "He's really got it bad for you."

Despite that questionable context, you couldn't help but smile. In a burst of honesty you confessed; "I hope so, because I've got it real bad for him, too."

On cue, the ship's chef leaned over the ships railing, looking down to you. "Y/n, my love!" he called, as though the rest of the crew wasn't surrounding the both of you. "I hope you're finished down there, because I've got a candlelit dinner waiting for you up here. And drinks. You know, to make it worth your while," he finished with a wink.

From behind Sanji you could hear Luffy ask, "What about our dinner? Just because you're lovers now doesn't mean we don't need to eat..."

Sanji sighed and turned away from you, probably to go protect your dinner before Luffy demolished it.

"Right then, let's go," Nami said as you finished untying the last rope. "While there's still food to eat."

And for the first time, you boarded your ship not to find the One Piece or the All Blue – you were just happy to be there, with the man you loved.

[rinhaler]

Uf!Sukuna pulling reader into the shower with him after winning a match 😮‍💨

Writing this bc I don't wanna deal with writing the follow up rn LMAO idk if I wanna count this as canon or not but I guess it doesn't really matter either way. Enjoy hotties!

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, underground fighter!sukuna, blood/injury detail, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby), daddy kink, spanking, pussy eating, male masturbation, hair pulling, showerhead usage (iykyk), oral fixation, praise, mutual pining??, vaginal sex, creampie.

words: 2.6k

It doesn’t take you long to jump out of bed and rush to the front door when you hear a knock. You already know who it is. As you open the door, you see him looking down at your welcome mat, and he’s closer than you’d expected him to be. His arm resting on the door frame and the way his body is hunched over makes it seem as though he’s already inside.

He looks up at you, grinning widely, and the sight makes you gasp.

“You’re bleeding.” you say, doing all you can to stay quiet and composed so you don’t disturb Megumi while he sleeps.

He spits on the ground, a bright red glob soon washed away by the rain almost as quickly as it lands. His chest rumbles with each breath, you’ve never seen him like this before.

You’ve never had to worry about him before.

“You stood me up.” he chuckles darkly, body becoming drenched by the downpour the longer you stare at each other. “Why didn’t you come? Wanted you to see me win.”

“I—” you stop yourself, shaking the explanation away as you look at his features. The way blood perfectly frames his teeth as a bloody cut from his nose continues to pour and trickle into his mouth. “I’ve seen you fight, how did this happen? You’d never let someone land a hit on you like this.”

He moves to come in, but you block his path instantly. And at that, he rolls his eyes. It’s what he likes about you, your stubbornness. It drives him crazy. He knows you aren’t to be taken lightly and you aren’t the type of girl to yield to him without reason.

“You were meant to come watch me win tonight, princess,” he reminds you. There’s a twinge of guilt in your eye that he doesn’t miss, it even gives him an opening to let himself into your home.

He knows better than to raise his voice or do anything to make you worry. He knows how badly you strive to be a good influence to your little brother and how you only want to do right by him. He knows how guilty you feel for continuing to see him behind your brother’s back.

But he can see in your wanton stare as you look up at him so meekly, you feel even guiltier for disappointing Sukuna.

And that is why you decided not to show up tonight.

“I did win, sweetheart, don’t worry.” he tells you, putting your mind at ease. Though it’s hard to feel fully comforted knowing the state his opponent has likely been left in after giving your lover such a gnarly injury. “I did let him hit me a few times.”

“Why would you do that?” you ask him, quietly. “Why would you do something so stupid?”

“’Cause you weren’t there tonight.” he responds, a wicked grin on his face as he tells you. “Wanted your attention tonight, and look how worried you are. Do you feel bad you didn’t come and watch daddy win for you?”

“A little.” you nod. “Your face looks fucked, they really got a good hit on you. You should really get that checked out.”

“And why would I do that when I know the best doctor in town?” he raises an eyebrow. He points at his face and scoffs lightly before speaking again. “This is nothin’, princess. Don’t worry. Think you owe me after you bailed on our plans. And I don’t mean I want you to patch me up.” he smirks as he takes your hand.

You’re a little ashamed that Sukuna has been here enough times to know where everything is, now. He pulls you along to your bathroom like he lives here. Like he’s always lived here. He closes the door as you enter it, locking it behind you as he pushes you against the white painted wood.

Your breathing quickens and your lungs expand. The deep breaths you take are enough to make you lightheaded, but you can’t lose yourself when you’re around Sukuna. He demands your mental presence as well as physical, no matter what you’re doing.

He needs to know you’re with him the way he’s always with you.

“We can’t.” you shake your head. “Megumi will hear.”

“I know.” he nods, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger before he bends down to kiss you. And you don’t resist, you never do. You never can. And he knows that. “I want to shower, ‘n I want you to come in with me, darlin’.”

He pulls away just a little so that he can lift his vest over his head and toss it aside. His muscles ripple even in the darkness of the bathroom. Your hand instinctively searches for the light, eager to see him properly. But he does it for you, easily flipping the switch so that the room fills with a cool blue light. It makes you shiver, although that could just as easily be him.

He's so imposing, so intimidating.

“Megumi will hear us, we can’t.” you remind him, and you’re met with a string of shushes before he kisses you again, the coppery taste of blood stains your tongue, but you don’t mind. You barely even notice as your own blood seems to rush to your head. He’s already pulling at your pyjama top, and you’re letting him. He strips you of the material before threading his fingers through your hair, his tongue tangling with yours as you moan into his mouth.

“I don’t care if he does,” he laughs lightly before kissing you again. “And I don’t think you do either, I think you want to fuck a winner tonight. And I want my prize.”

You don’t answer, you just kiss him again. He laughs into it as he picks you up with ease, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his torso before he carries you towards the shower.

“He’s gonna kill me for this.” you laugh too, a little breathless as he puts you down.

He yanks down your sleep shorts and lifts you into the tub. You watch him as he removes his joggers and climbs in after you, spinning you around so your back is to him. He gropes your tits roughly, lips sucking harshly into your neck as he pinches your nipples.

“Turn on the water.” he breathes into your skin, your back arching from the sensuality of his whispered tone and almost aggressive touches. You yelp as he spanks you, covering your mouth quickly when you realise what you’ve done. “Now.”

He drops to one knee as you do as you’re told, grasping the fat of your ass while you fiddle with the shower head and water settings. You try to supress another yelp as the cold water hits you first, but you’re soon distracted as Sukuna begins to grunt against your soft skin as he kisses you fervently.

“You’re perfect.” he muses, gripping your hips and prompting you to turn and face him. He looks up at you like you were heaven sent. Like you’re a gift from designed to perfectly suit him. It makes you feel like a Goddess, and it makes you moan as he places a hand under your thigh and guides you to rest your foot on the edge of the tub. “Daddy’s perfect fuckin’ pussy.”

He kisses your clit repeatedly before he begins to make out with your cunt. You throw your head back against the tiled walls, moaning louder as you watch him take hold of his length and begin to play with himself. He moans into your folds as he strokes his length calmly.

It makes you heady.

To see him so nonchalant as he touches himself, getting off to your pleasure rather than prioritising his own. You know how good he is in bed. You’ve known what a good fuck he is from the day you met.

But you’ve never been as turned on as you are now.

When he said he wanted to claim his prize, you assumed he meant he wanted to cum. You assumed he wanted to use you so that he could achieve that. But you were wrong; you misjudged him, as you often do.

He isn’t an immature fuckboy who only wants one thing from you. He’s already had it, and he still comes back to you. He wants more. He needs more. You aren’t an object to him, and you certainly aren’t an easy screw.

Fucking you has never been his prize.

It’s you.

It’s always been you.

You tug his hair roughly as your body begins to shudder, overcome with the realisation that he cares for you and not just your body. He releases his hold of himself as he once again decides to prioritise you. He grabs your hips and buries his face even further into your cunt, his licks and laves unrelenting as he torments your clit until it can’t take anymore.

“S-Sukuna!” you cry out, convulsing as your thighs clamp around his head. He doesn’t even mind. He spanks you, but there’s no intent to it. The water makes the slap louder than you’d have liked. But, again, neither of you seem to care.

He continues to moan as he devours your release, humming into your core greedily before he finally frees you. His face shimmers as he looks up at you, a look of contentment as his features are doused in a combination of the water and your arousal.

Your arms wrap around his neck as he kisses you again, and you’re soon caged between his body and the wall. You can barely think straight as water rains down on both of you, the shower doing all it can to wash away the evidence of Sukuna’s bloody brawl from his pretty face.

“You taste so fuckin’ good baby,” he mumbles clumsily against your lips, offering you praise to consume before kissing you again. “You make me fucking crazy y’know? Think about you all the time…”

“Shut up.” you laugh.

“I mean it. Don’t laugh.” he smiles down at you as he withdraws from the kiss. “You think you know everything, don’t you?”

“We’re just fucking. You’re so—”

“You talk too fucking much. You know that?” he smirks. He turns you around with ease, pressing your cheek into the damp tiles as he sucks your neck and bites your shoulder. “Think I better bury my cock in you, might stop you from thinking so much.”

You don’t say another word, allowing him full control of your mind body and soul as you succumb to his will. There’s nothing for you to grab onto despite aimlessly searching as his cockhead teases your entrance. He notes your desperation, tugging your wrist into the small of your back as he uses it for leverage while he slowly pushes into you.

He snickers as you emit a resounding moan from being stretched to your limit. It doesn’t matter how many times you do this, you’ll never get over how truly monstrous his length is. So thick and heavy, so long and suffocating. With each slow rut of your hips, you can’t help but think his cock is closing your airways.

You feel him so deeply, so intimately, you can’t stop yourself from whimpering as he fucks you harder.

Harder.

Harder.

With no desire to rush, each stroke is slow and purposeful. Your body feels weak, and weaker still as he begins to pepper your bare skin in adoring kisses. It’s almost as if you could slip down the drain and wash away with the rest of the water.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, gruffly, grabbing your jaw to angle your face so that you’re looking at one another. “Tell me.”

“Y-You,” you answer, pathetically, and he doesn’t allow you to say another word. Not before forcing his tongue into your mouth, silencing you with a searing kissing.

“Do you want to cum, hm? Do you want to cum on daddy’s cock?”

“… Yes,” you reply, your voice nothing but a desperate rasp as you long for him to make you feel good the way only he can.

And you’re taken aback as he begins to move, you both do. Suddenly you’re facing the shower again, and you hunch forward as he reaches above you to pull it off the hook. You don’t see the grin on his face as he observes your bewilderment. You watch the metallic head lower with the intensity of a hawk.

You know what he’s doing, but you also can’t help but think you might be imagining things. He’s doing what you had done to yourself for so many years before you knew about sex toys, before you even knew why it felt so good when you let the water massage you there.

But he is.

He shoves the showerhead between your folds, the stream of water assaults your clit in a way you’d almost forgotten could be so satisfying. The pressure makes you scream, but he’s quick to cover your mouth. The shock of the showerhead had distracted you from the fact he’s still pounding into you. His pace quickens and your mind goes blank.

“Thought you didn’t want Megumi to hear? Am I making you feel too good, princesss? You wanted to cum, so you’ll cum like this.”

You nod, pitifully, too eager to finish again to think of a clever retort.

Two fingers penetrate your mouth in a bid to silence you. And you never disappoint him, it’s like he has you trained. You suck, humming contently around his digits as his thighs slam against yours again and again and again.

Your knees give in, finally, as you cum for him. He does his best to hold you in place, careful to not let you fall as your body quivers. You’re weary, he knows.

But he’s more determined than ever, now.

He puts the shower back in its place, the water becomes a blanket for you as you still continue to tremble through little aftershocks.

His movements are quicker and harsher. The warm water contrasts how you feel, how he’s holding you. He’s a behemoth of a man, without really trying you know you’ll be bruised tomorrow. Especially your thighs. The way he’s ramming into you with one goal in mind makes you heady, but all you can do is drool around his fingers.

“Fuck,” he grunts, somehow still finding the energy to fuck you harder. His fingers dig into your hips, and his breathing becomes jagged. He cums hard for you, moaning loudly as he does. It comes deep from his lungs and gives no attempt to stifle himself, it’s almost like a roar.

A beast claiming its kill.

A king claiming his prize.

“Good girl, good fucking girl,” he murmurs, once again decorating your cold skin in loving kisses.

You feel empty as he pulls out, but he doesn’t care. He pulls your body into his, wrapping his muscular arms around your frame. His lips are on yours and you feel like this is your reward. Feeling so safe and loved in his hold despite knowing what you know.

He isn’t the type of man to hold affection for, and deep down you know what you are to each other. No matter what he says you aren’t stupid. You aren’t foolish enough to think this thing between you is anything more than sex.

But right now, you don’t care.

You do feel love from him and for him.

“Will you stay?” you ask sheepishly. Despite immediately regretting asking, you can’t help but stare into his eyes as you await his answer.

And instantly, he nods. “Yeah, princess. I’ll stay.” he kisses your forehead. “Let’s get cleaned up first.”

© 2024 rinhaler

[luveline]

𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 

part one | part two | part three | part four

summary you're a single mom living three trailers down. eddie thinks you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen. queue smiley face oatmeal, grossly misused power tools, desserts on the living room floor, a haircut, and an abundance of nerd metaphors [15k]

warnings teen mom!reader, fem!reader, r is junie's birth mother, fluff, hurt/comfort, eddie ends up being a total girl dad (<3), mutual pining, yearning etc, tw for not having much money, general loneliness, mentions of a shitty/traumatic pregnancy, general mom struggles :(, slowburn friends to lovers, you wash eddie's hair!!!! this was low-key requested by anon

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie opens the door and finds a little girl on the steps of his house. Little girl feels generous – she's barely more than a baby. In a set of tiny matching pajamas and white socks stained green from the morning grass, she looks up at him with wide, sad eyes. 

"Hey," he says carefully. "Hey, sweetheart." 

"Good morning," she says, though it comes out blurry.

"Good morning," he repeats with a breathless laugh, instantly endeared.

He curls his hand around the railing and squats down. She really is very cute and obviously well looked after, although he realises upon closer inspection that she's been crying. 

"Where's your mommy?" Eddie feels silly as he asks, but what else do you say when you find kids by themselves? 

He's not really expecting her to know the answer. She pouts her small mouth and Eddie freezes up. 

"Mommy.” Her breath quivers. 

"Don't cry," he says very gently.

It doesn't work, obviously, and she starts whimpering in a way that turns Eddie's heart entirely. 

"Let's find mommy, okay? Do you wanna do that? Wanna come and find mommy with me?" 

"Yes," she says, though it quickly draws up into a sharp cry. 

Eddie treks down the stairs and turns back, waiting. The little girl looks down at the steps and her eyebrows furrow as she places one foot after the other, looking like her socks are stuck to a fly trap. 

He holds his hand out. "You got it," he says encouragingly, wiggling his fingers. 

Her relief is palpable. Her brows smooth as she takes his hand, so small he can cover her entire palm with the meat of his thumb. She wobbles down the steps and then hesitates at the damp ground awaiting. 

Eddie drops his gaze to her wet feet.

She looks up at him. Eddie doesn't think she means to but her eyes are pleading,and he's already moving to pick her up when she lifts her arms into the air.

She's heavier than he anticipates. He quickly gets used to the weight, shifting her against his side with his arm under her butt, her damp foot digging into his abdomen. She rests one hand on his shoulder and the other reaches for his hair. He can't help smiling at her as she pets the dark mess, hand clumsy but well-intentioned. 

He walks down past the van and onto dark asphalt, looking up and down the road to see if anyone's around. He figures she has to be a trailer park kid – she can't have walked very far, and she'd been waiting outside. She must've gotten mixed up and thought his trailer was her own, which hopefully means her mom lives close. 

The steps up into his trailer are on the right side. Eddie guesses she's come from the right. It's not a great assumption — he's grasping at straws. 

"What's your name?" he asks. 

She's taken a lock of his hair into her hands. Eddie worries for a second that she's going to try eating it but she only waves it around, looking pleased. 

"I'm Eddie." 

"Dee," she says. 

"Almost. Eh-dee," he spells out, again not actually expecting her to understand what he's saying. He's unsure about kids her age – he's unsure what age she even is. 

She babbles something unintelligible and Eddie hikes her higher up his chest. He strides out of the cool shadow and blinks, shielding his eyes against the yellow-white glare of sunshine. The little girl hides her face in his hair. 

He hasn't walked very far when he sees you behind the trailer three doors down, pinning clothes that look the same size as the girl's pajamas to a clothesline with unhurried hands. The front door is wide open. 

"Your poor mommy," he murmurs as he approaches, "out here doing the laundry by herself and you're halfway to Indianapolis. Musta got turned around, huh?"

You drop a small light blue dress on the floor and cuss just loud enough for Eddie to hear it. You pick it up fast and brush it down, looking over the fabric worriedly. 

Eddie cuts over soft grass, giving the baby's waist a pat and holding her ears away from his mouth as he raises his voice. "Hey, is this your kid?" he asks. 

You flinch toward him and your eyes go wide – wide, your lips parting and your brows jumping down like you might start yelling. 

You're really fucking pretty. 

Eddie’s quick to placate you. "She was sitting on my front steps." 

You still don't look very happy though your suspicion melds to confusion and then a stab of too-late worry. You rush towards them and Eddie turns his body to encourage the girl's gaze to you. His chest warms when she perks up. 

She wriggles in his arms impatiently and Eddie's surprised by how quickly she starts to cry, reaching out for you with insistent grabbing hands as he passes her over.

"It's okay," you say softly, tucking her into your chest. 

The difference in body language is unmissable. Where she'd been restless (though more than pleasant) in Eddie's arms, she completely melts into yours. Her little face presses into your neck and her legs curl up. You pat her butt soothingly. "It's okay, baby. Where have you been?" You look up at him for an answer with concern lining your pretty features. 

"I'm only three down," he says. 

 "Oh… Thank you," you say roughly.

Your gratitude is unnecessary. "That's okay. She's real sweet. I opened the door and the first thing she said was, 'good morning,'" he recalls with an easy smile. 

Joy lightens your entire face. He feels his breath catch in his throat. 

"She did? She said that?" 

"Yeah, she did.” He tries not to sound as confused as he feels.

Your eyes close with the force of your smile. You encourages your toddler’s face back and drop your chin to plant kisses all over her tiny cheeks. Eddie feels something foreign yawning in his chest as she starts to laugh, a tinkling sound that's sugar sweet. 

He scratches his neck and pretends to look over his shoulder, tamping his smile back into a neutral expression. 

"She's having trouble talking," you say, lifting your head as the baby's giggles taper off. "She can talk, she says 'mommy' all the time, but she's s'posed to be saying more 'cos she's almost two and I know she can do it, she's so smart, but-" You cut yourself off and laugh all breathless and sheepish. "Sugar, I'm sorry. I mean- Sorry. Thank you," it almost bursts from you, "for bringing her back. I don't know…" 

"You just moved in, right?" You nod. "The lock on the front door- they're all exactly the same, you just gotta shake it and it unlocks. Even someone small as her can could get it open with enough determination." 

"She can be very determined," you say ruefully, voice hushed. You're still patting her butt, swaying her from side to side. Eddie's in awe at how quickly she's settled, her button features crumpled by a big yawn. "Always gets what she wants."

"I bet she does, she's a total heartbreaker." 

You take a step towards him, your beat up sneakers half a foot from his converse. "She can't help it, she was born this pretty," you say. He loves how braggy you sound. 

"I can see where she gets it." 

As soon as he says it he wishes he could take it back. Not because he doesn't think it's true – you're really something else – but because he doesn't want to creep you out. 

Luckily, he's rewarded for his bravery by another beaming smile, your words warm as you tell him, "They said she was the prettiest baby they'd seen in twenty years up in Eskenazi general." 

The name pricks his ears. "You're from Indianapolis?" 

"Kind of." You tilt your head to the side. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name." 

"Eddie." He could applaud himself on how normal he sounds and how not normal he feels. 

"Eddie, I'm Y/N. D'you wanna come in for coffee? Or I can make you some breakfast? To say thank you for taking care of my Junie."

"Junie," he repeats, surprised. 

You shift from foot to foot. "She's a June baby. And she's getting kind of heavy these days, so. Breakfast?" 

He follows you up the steps and through the back door. 

"You can leave it open," you say over your shoulder. 

He catches an eyeful of your bathroom, an organised chaos that smells intoxicating, the rich scent of jasmine heavy in the humidity chased by something softer. Talcum powder, he thinks. 

You murmur something to Junie too quiet to hear and she rouses from her dozing, grizzling weakly. 

"It's breakfast time! Is that what you tried to come and find me for, some breakfast? So impatient," you scold her lightly, smiling all the while as you set her into a bright blue high chair with a big yellow duck with orange flippers printed on the cushioning.

You squeeze one of her feet and frown. "Your socks are wet. Did you go swimming in the grass?" 

Eddie leans against the doorway leading into the kitchen. He doesn't have any experience with kids. You make it look easy, pulling off her stained socks while she wiggles her protest and tickling the soles of her feet with the tip of your finger until she's happy again. 

You turn back to him, socks clutched in your hand. "I'm gonna make oatmeal. Is that something you…" 

"I'm an oatmeal fiend." 

You grin and do a lap to close the front door. "Sit down. I'll get you some coffee? I got milk and brown sugar." 

He throws himself into the seat next to the high chair with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Brown sugar? Sweetness, you're spoiling me." 

Junie laughs. Eddie pulls himself up into a proper sitting position and gawps at her exaggeratedly. "What's funny, little lady?" 

She giggles some more. Eddie leans his elbow on the tray of the high chair and pretends to glare at her. "I can already tell you're trouble." 

"She likes you." 

"Yeah?" he asks, looking at you over his shoulder. 

You're half obscured by cabinets as you poke your head out, an open sack of rolled oats in one hand and a small pan in the other. You nod happily and move to the sink. He can hear the sound of the faucet and the burner clicking on, the saucepan sliding over the stovetop. 

"I like you," he says to Junie quietly, rapping his knuckles on the tray. "But don't tell anyone, okay? I have a reputation." 

"So, uh, how long have you lived here?" you call, almost smothered by the rushing sound of oats tipping into hot water. 

Junie makes a funny face like she might sneeze. Eddie watches. "Since I was a kid." He's smiling as he talks, amazed when Junie starts to smile back. He nods his head gently up and down to encourage her. "Too long. Not that it's not nice here."

Junie looks like she agrees. 

"For sure, but..  not always where you picture yourself," you say tentatively. 

He hums his agreement. "Whatever though, right? A roof is a roof. Even when the roof is made of cardboard and corrugated metal. I mean, all things considered, this is a well kept vessel." 

He's not just trying to make you feel better – you really are making a go of it. There's not nearly as much clutter or decoration as his own home but it's twice as clean and every surface brags a clear affection – you fucking love your daughter. There's a framed photo of her as she looks now at the mantle without a single fingerprint on the glass, baby photos in smaller frames hang on the wall. 

Smallest of all, a photo of the two of you together. Your hands on her shoulders, your lips and nose pressed to her forehead. You're not looking at the camera, but Junie is, and she's exuberant. 

Toys, though few, are arranged neatly under the TV. It's really the type of clean that takes hours. He wonders how you'd ever make time for it. 

"You got a job?"  

"Yeah, I'm waitressing at Benny's?" You say it like a question. "The burger place?"

"Yeah, I know the one. Randolph Lane, near the laundromat. Does Junie go with you?" he asks. He cooes Junie's name and feels very happy when the girl in question smiles some more, reaching out with her hands. Eddie offers up the same palm she'd taken before and lets her squeeze his fingers in a surprisingly tight grip. "She looks like a working girl." 

"Benny said I could bring her with me until she starts daycare next week, so she really is a working girl." You giggle madly and Junie loves the sound, her chubby cheeks rounding as she smiles. 

"I knew it," Eddie whispers conspiringly. "You have the face for it." 

Junie laughs like something is truly hysterical and Eddie can't believe it, squeezing the small girl's smaller fingers in his and waving their joined hands together.

"She really likes you," you say, closer now. 

You set a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. He pulls his hand from Junie's and moves the hot mug away from the high chair though she'd never be able to reach it as you set your own mug and a pint of milk half-full across from him, the brown sugar you'd promised in a pink and orange ceramic dish with a lid that clinks as he pulls it off. 

You double back into the kitchen. This time you bring a baby bottle full of what he guesses is diluted juice and two teaspoons, handing him one with a quiet, "For you." 

"Why thank you," he drawls. 

He spoons a generous hill of crumbly brown sugar into his cup and swirls. 

"The oatmeal needs to soften. Is there anything you want with it? I've got lots of options," you tell him, pouring milk into your own mug. When you're done you and Eddie swap.

He thinks maybe you sound a little nervous and wonders if he's the first neighbour you've met. Or maybe you're still freaked out about Junie. 

He raises his eyebrows but doesn't look at you as he splashes milk into the dark recesses of his coffee, watching as it bursts back up to the surface and turns the drink a more acceptable brown. "What do you usually have?" 

"Junie gets peanut butter and blueberries." 

He tilts his head toward his shoulder just slightly and plants his elbows on the table, the rim of his mug held in tenuous fingertips. 

"What do you get?" he asks, thinking that if the baby gets such a sweet treat you must get something equally impressive. He thinks of raspberries and chia seeds, flakey sea salt and bitter dark chocolate. 

You blink. "What?" 

"What do you have, on your oatmeal?" He punctuates his question with a sip. 

"Salt. Sometimes raisins." 

You make a nice cup of coffee. Eddie holds it in both hands and leans into the table. "That's it?" 

You shrug. Junie starts to whimper about something Eddie doesn't understand. You reach out to hold her hand. "She loves blueberries. Don't you, Junie?"

"Blue," Junie says. 

You're smiling as you take another small spoonful of brown sugar. You lick the tip of your finger and dip it into the well of the spoon until a few grains are sticking to you and hold it up to Junie's lips. "She loves sugar, too, but toddlers aren't s'posed to have it. Or so they say." You smile as she sucks the sugar off before wiping your spit wet finger in your pants. 

Daughter appeased for a moment, you hold your chin in your palm and turn your attention to him. "Where do you work?" 

He imagines this is how a plant feels when the sun comes out. "The Hideout, for now. I'm a very essential and irreplaceable bus boy." He nods very seriously.

"What's after?" 

"Music." 

Your lips curl into an interested smile. "Music? You a singer?" 

"I have a great set of windpipes," he says agreeably, grinning. "But I'm a guitarist." 

"And you're in a band?" 

"I- I was. Yeah, we were good, too, but everybody graduated and our drummer skipped town. I just sub rhythm guitar for whoever wants me to." 

"At the Hideout?" 

"At the Hideout." He decides on his next words carefully. You could come see me play. Weak. You're welcome to come see it for yourself. Too strong? You're welcome to come by one night. Bring Junie. 

He's not asking you on a date; he's a new acquaintance extending an invitation for you to get out and see a new place. That's all it is. 

He opens his mouth to try and suddenly there's a loud clattering. Eddie flinches, blinks, finds that Junie has thrown her bottle of juice across the room. 

Eddie waits for you to maybe tell her off like some of the mom's he's seen at Bradley's. A glare, a hissing remark to be good. 

You reach over and your shirt rides up your back. Eddie averts his gaze guiltily.

You put the bottle back on the tray, giving him an apologetic grimace. "Sorry, Junie has recently discovered that every time she drops something I'll pick it up for her." 

"Smart Junie." 

The bottle falls to the floor again. "She's a genius." You don’t sound entirely pleased, picking the bottle up again and holding it just out of Junie's reach. You shake it up and down. "S'juice. You like juice," you try to reason with her.

Junie reaches for it. You purse your lips. "Be good," you say softly. 

Junie takes the bottle and shakes it. 

It's a small victory and still softens every feature. Your eyes squint, your bottom lip juts out a touch, your nostrils flare with a pleased inhale. 

"Thanks, junebug."

"Tanks," Junie says. 

"Thanks," you repeat, bubbly baby talk. "Thanks. Say thanks, Junie." 

Eddie watches you encourage her over his coffee. It's quiet, peaceful here in a way nowhere else in his life has ever been besides quiet Sunday mornings with his Uncle. There's only the sound of the gas stovetop burning and your happy, patient voice. 

Junie says "Tanks," a couple more times. You don't give up. When she finally says something that sounds almost like a "Thanks," you whip your gaze to his. 

"Did you hear that?" you ask. Your pride is evident. 

He puts down his half empty mug. "She said it." 

"She said it," you repeat, your shoulders moving in the tiniest happy dance he's ever seen. You stand up and take her face into delicate hands. "She's my smarty pants. Aren't you, baby?" 

You dot a kiss over her head and head back into the kitchenette. 

"Tanks," Junie says animatedly, running on an affection high. She accidentally knocks her bottle over.

"Thanks, Junie," Eddie corrects, righting it. 

He finds it easier to baby talk than he imagined. Being nice to little kids – that's easy. Especially as he gets older. When they hit the pre-teen mark is when he starts to steer clear, but even then he can't help doting on them sometimes. Like his club – idiots, annoying idiots, but his annoying idiots. He doesn't hold back with them. He doesn't feel like he's holding back now, either, it's just different. 

Baby's want love. Care and affection. 

And to pull Eddie's hair, apparently. 

Junie's reaching over the gap with a fierce look on her face. Eddie pulls his chair closer and decides to let her try it out. She hadn't given him any reason to worry before, and she doesn't now as she takes a chunk of his hair into her hand. She pulls very gently, likely more that her fingers have gotten caught in his messy curls than any maliciousness. 

"What's your fascination with my hair?" he asks her. 

In her own home Junie's very noisy. When he'd found her outside she hadn't done much besides whimper weakly. Now, she's a riot of gurgling and humming. 

"Are you a singer, Junie?" he asks. 

"She sings all the time! She loves the Muppet Babies on TV, but I- uh, I haven't been able to actually get cable, yet. But when I get paid next week…" You come back into view with two bowls in hand. "She'll be in her oils." 

Eddie says thanks as you put a bowl down in front of him. There's a smiley face there made up of berries with banana slices for eyes. He feels something crawling up his throat and has no idea what it is, and then something completely different when he sees your own bowl, a stretch of plain oatmeal with no delicious adornment. 

You leave and quickly return with a smaller bowl, a baby spoon and a jar of peanut butter.

"Do you want some?" you ask, opening the jar to push the baby spoon inside. "I would've just put it in anyway but then I worried you were allergic." 

You hand it off to Junie and she licks at it happily. 

"Sure, I'll have some. Where's your smiley face?" he asks. 

Your eyes widen slightly. Eddie's not academically inclined but he's never been stupid, and he sees it for what it is, something he's seen in himself and in every other poor kid who didn't bring lunch to school.

"I don't really like bananas," you say. 

Whether you're lying or not isn't something he needs to know.

"Well, you're gonna have to share the blueberries with me, I can't eat this much fruit. I got a hearty diet of chips and microwave oven dinners to uphold." 

Eddie shovels half of the smile into your bowl. You clutch your spoon in your hand like you want to protest, but no way is he gonna watch you miss out on nice things in your own home. 

You smile and don't say anything for a while, rubbing the edge of the bowl with your spoon, your thoughts somewhere else. 

Junie's food sits billowing steam in the middle of the table, which annoys the poor girl endlessly. She wiggles and murmurs and sucks at her empty spoon with a growing line between her brows. 

Eddie eats and feels much better when you finally start to eat your own meal, leaning back in his chair heavily to loll his head towards Junie. "Your mom makes amazing oatmeal. You're really missing out." 

You choke on a laugh and grab her spoon to load up with another small heap of peanut butter. "That is so cruel to lord over her,” you say. “I can't give it to her yet! It's scorching. She has a fragile mouth." 

"I'm sure." 

He picks one of his blueberries out of the bowl and offers it to Junie, who takes it slowly despite her previously rabid hunger 

More oatmeal eating. Eddie ends up giving the rest of his fruit to Junie, your generous dollops of peanut butter more than enough to enjoy the oatmeal. He might argue it doesn't need any adornment at all.

You stir peanut butter into Junie's bowl and wrestle the baby spoon out of her tight grip.

It's a process to watch. You scoop up oatmeal, blow on it until you're sure it's cool, and push it into Junie's mouth efficiently. There's a method to it, the way you lift the handle of the spoon so oatmeal doesn't drip straight back out of her mouth. When it does you scrape the lip gently against her chin to catch it before it ruins her shirt. 

It starts to rain. Hard not to notice, a light drizzle opens and sprays down against the windows and for a moment there's no reaction. Then, gasping, you drop Junie's bowl back onto the table in stress. 

"Shit, the laundry. Are you okay to watch her please? Sorry. I'll be five seconds," you say, already heading for the back door. 

"Sure.” He sounds about as startled as he feels. 

The back door shushes open and your feet dip down the steps. Junie is not very pleased with her breakfast getting put on pause, her face growing as unpleasant as the weather outside.

"Mommy," she says, unhappy and loud.

Eddie doesn't think about it as he picks up her bowl. It's more a pulse of feeling than a thought. Feed her and she won't cry. 

He blows on a spoonful of oatmeal with likely too much vigour. 

Junie's still complaining as he holds it in front of her face. If she's surprised to be fed by somebody who isn't her mom she doesn't show it, her sticky face growing suddenly slack as she realises her oatmeal is back in play. Her lips part.

He feeds her oatmeal, does a very bad job, and tries to gather what's escaped with the spoon as Junie waves her hands around and pokes at spilled food on the white tray in front of her. By the time you come back damp and breathless with the cold chasing your heels he's successfully managed to feed her what was left of her breakfast. He's embarrassed to be caught but tries not to show it. 

"You okay?" he asks, looking you up and down amicably.

"S'only a little rain." You push the laundry basket onto the sofa and smile sheepishly. "You didn't have to do that." 

"And have the precious little lady starve?" 

"Starve!" you repeat, a feigned incredulousness to your tone. 

"She was giving me the puppy dog's," he says, shrugging as he takes the spoon out of Junie's wet fingers. 

She whines for a second at his robbery but seems to realise she's full, picking her juice back up to shake some more. 

You exhale through an open-mouthed smile.

"Thank you. She's gonna love you now, she loves anyone who gives her food. She's a real cadge at the diner. Never seen so much free cherry pie in my life," you remark, turning to what looks like your diaper station. You wade through a mess of things he doesn't recognise and pull out a packet of baby wipes. 

"And her mom? Is her affection so easily garnered?" 

"Takes more than a cherry pie to win me over," you joke, sitting down in your chair in front of the high chair with a soft sigh. You pull out one of the wipes and take Junie's wrists into your hand, wiping her fingers clean methodically. "I need at least a squirt of whipped cream on top before I consider any fondness." 

He chuckles and you laugh too. It's short-lived, your lips pursed as you wipe Junie's face clean. She hates every second of it, writhing in her chair like she's being tortured as you clean a mess of brown and blue from her round chin. 

"Sorry, I'm sorry. Done, done," you say, holding your hands up in surrender. 

She pouts. 

"Don't be like that," you scold her mildly. "Look how lovely and clean you are now! Eddie can see how pretty you look again." 

You slide your hands under her armpits and pull her out of the highchair, groaning. 

"Oh, there you go. Where's Mr. Bear gone, baby? You can play sticky bricks with him so I can get ready for work." 

Work. Work. Where Eddie was going. Where Eddie is very likely supposed to be. He checks the time and his eyes flare, standing up abruptly. You turn  toward him with Junie anchored on your hip, both wearing matching expressions of curiosity.

"Sh-“ Don’t swear around babies. “I'm sorry, I got somewhere to be that I totally spaced on."

You blink. "That's okay." 

"It was sick to meet you," he says. 

You blink some more and walk to the front door, pulling it open as an understanding smile curls your lips. "Super 'sick,'" you say, bemused. "Thank you so much for bringing Junie back. Really, I mean, if anything ever happened to her." You don't finish because it's obvious, your bright tone underlain with a burning fear.

He walks sideways out of the door and down one step, knowing he's super fucking late but not caring too much as he says, "Listen, I can bring you a deadbolt." 

"You could?" 

"Sure thing. Make sure this little lady," and he says it chidingly, directing his gaze at Junie who goes all shy and smiley from the attention, "doesn't go on anymore morning adventures. Especially without her shoes." 

"That would be… that would be awesome, Eddie. Thank you." 

He waves his hand and descends the last of the steps. "I'll come around tomorrow?" 

It's a Saturday today. He's not surprised that you're both working the weekend, but he is surprised that you're working Sunday too when you say, "Would after five be okay?" 

"That's more than okay. Bye, trouble," he says to Junie, bringing a hand up to shield his hair from the drizzling rain. 

You look lovely on the stoop, fresh-faced and in your lounge clothes. You tug Junie up your chest and take her hand into yours. "Say 'bye', Junie," you tell her, waving her hand. "Bye! Bye-bye, Eddie." 

"Bye Junie!" he calls, waving at the little girl with great fervour.

"Bye!" Junie calls back. 

You both grin. 

-

You're super tired from work and exhausted from an upset daughter. Even now Junie fusses. She hasn't been getting her naps because you can't set her down anywhere that isn't the wooden high chair in Benny's restaurant, which is months of a routine disrupted. 

You're not mad at her – the opposite, you feel awful to mess her up like this, awful that she's so upset. Trying your very best to calm her down, you're swaying her from side to side in the middle of your messy living room with your hand patting a steady rhythm into the narrow breadth of her back. 

"I know, baby, I know. I'm sorry. You'll get your nap tomorrow, I promise," you say, trying for softness and missing, desperation eating at your tone.

You try not to have a heart attack at the thought of her first day at the new daycare. I can't think about it, you tell yourself, moving your thoughts onto the Sunday checklist. 

Junie's been fed. Unfortunately, she's the kind of wound up where the only solution you can think of is to get her in bed. If you can get her down soon she'll sleep until maybe 4AM. Not ideal; you'd prefer she slept later tonight and woke up at a healthier 6AM with you. When she does wake, no matter the time, you'll have her eat something substantial for breakfast and take a much needed bath. 

Laundry, bills, cleaning, it all runs through your head. Junie's hair, her snacks for daycare, her clothes. Does she have clean socks for the week? Does she have a vest top for tomorrow? 

Her crying grows loud and you can't think of anything except how overwhelmed you feel. 

"It's okay, baby, just go to sleep." You shush her softly.

Somebody knocks the door. 

You and Junie are similarly nonplussed. Her crying ceases for a second and her head turns in tandem with yours. 

"Oh. Oh, you know who that is, huh?" you ask her, making for the door while her cries are still on pause. "That's our new friend Eddie. You remember Eddie?" 

You pull open the door. There he is on the porch with a bag and a plastic case, wearing a shirt with short sleeves. You realise for the first time that he has tattoos. 

"Hi," you say. 

"Hi. Hi, Junie," he adds, looking at her tear-stained face. "Have I come at a bad time?" 

"No, you're good. You're great, thank you for doing this." You lean back against the door and Eddie skirts past you. That close, you can smell the heavy sage and sandalwood of his cologne and see the beauty mark under his ear, dark hair tucked behind the shell. 

He stops in the middle of the room and puts down the plastic case. "I'm gonna try to do it. Try being the essential word, and I make absolutely no promises." He makes a small cross with his hands leading out and the bag falls from the crook of his elbow to his wrist. 

It sounds like more than a deadbolt. Eddie sees your gaze and jumps into theatrics that hook Junie's attention straight away, ruffling through the bag. He pulls out a VHS tape and then a second, one old and one newer. 

"For your consideration." He presents them grandly against his check, his eyes flitting from your daughter to the tapes in wait of her reaction. 

Junie has no clue what a VHS is. She thinks the TV is magic. 

You swoop in and gasp loudly for Junie's sake, having identified his proffered tapes immediately. 

"You know what that is?" you ask her, pointing at the slipcover. "Muppet Babies! There's Kermit and Fozzy and Rowlf and Gonzo." You touch your finger to each puppet in turn as you reel off their names. 

Junie looks up at you like maybe she remembers, so you start to sing the theme tune for her. "Muppet Babies, they make their dreams come true. Muppet Babies, they'll do the same for you!"

The song jogs her memory. She starts her nonsense singing in a valiant but juvenile effort to recreate the music, dancing in your arms. 

You sing it again for her as you lower her to the floor. She doesn't whine to be picked back up, a great sign that her mood has turned, instead walking to the TV, a small silver combi with a bubble screen. She raises her arms up high and starts hitting the TV stand with her palms flat. 

Eddie looks to you as if he's checking that it's alright before crossing the small space and turning on the TV, your relieved smile more than enough encouragement. He's careful not to step on Junie's feet, surprised when she walks into his leg. She grabs onto his jeans and looks up at him with wide eyes. 

Eddie visibly softens. 

It's kind of crazy to see him, this metalhead dude covered in dark tattoos and wearing safety pinned jeans looking down at a toddler with nothing but patience in his eyes.

He drops his hand very lightly to her tiny back and pushes in the tape. "Hi, sweetheart."

"Hi," Junie says. 

She doesn't let him touch her for very long, falling to her knees to pull out the bin of stickle bricks hiding underneath as Eddie fast forwards through the adverts and then turns up the volume until the Muppet Babies theme is echoing against the wood panelled walls.. 

Junie's eyes dart up the screen, two bricks held in her hands and a great smile on her face. 

"Where did you find that?" you ask, in awe. 

He steps over her and comes back to your side, crossing his arms over his stomach with a smug smile. "Not telling. Ruins the magic. Got The Bugs Bunny Show for when she gets bored of Miss Piggy." 

You smooth down your rumpled black work skirt and smile shyly. "I can pay you back… Next week." 

He looks lost for words for a split-second. It clears fast, and he says, "Tell you a secret. I have a friend down at good old Family Video that let me have 'em for nothing." 

"Yeah?" you ask, unsure. You worry he's lying to make you feel better. 

"Uh-huh. Friends in high places," he brags sarcastically. 

You turn to watch Junie smile for the first time in hours and have to scrub your face to hide how shattered you feel. It's been a really long week. Your relief is a physical thing, a hand on your shoulder. You feel yourself deflate. 

"You okay?" Eddie asks. 

You press the backs of your hands to your cheeks. "Thank you. Really. You saved me." 

"Yeah?" he asks, dialling up the drama. He lifts his chin high. "Would you say, oh, I don't know, that I'm your hero?" 

It's his clear joking tone that saves him. If you'd detected even a smidge of genuine expectancy from him you likely would've shoved him out the door. 

"Mm-hm. My hero," you croon, both of you grinning. 

He turns back to the grocery bag and pulls out a bottle of juice. "I was gonna bring coke but I didn't want Junie to feel left out." 

You move to the cabinets and can't believe how nice he is. You get a little warning stab, that feeling of if it's too good to be true… and shake it off. Maybe it'll turn out that way and you're not gonna do anything stupid to chance it, but he seems like a normal guy. A good neighbour who wants to be your friend.

You're in dire need of one of those. 

"What was wrong with the little lady?" 

You pour juice into a glass for him, less into a glass for you, and a half-inch into a clean baby bottle. "I can't get her down for a nap when she's with me at work and it really caught up to her today. She-" You yawn so wide it hurts your cheeks, covering your face with your arm. 

Eddie looks up from where he's kneeling in front of the open plastic case he'd brought with him. "Caught up to you too, I think." 

"A little." You smile ruefully. 

He holds something red and black in the air. "This'll wake you up," he says. 

It's a small hand drill. He presses down on the trigger twice in quick succession and Junie lies down on the floor to look backwards at him. 

“Woah,” you say.

Junie rolls onto her knees and then stands. She's in that stage of walking where she can mostly do it but has a great tendency to trip over anything that might be in her way, and she stumbles as she approaches. Eddie moves the drill away from her and opens the case wide to show her his array of drill bits. 

"How'd you like them, Junie?" he asks. "Pretty cool, huh?" 

"What do they all do?" you ask. 

"I don't have the foggiest," he says, grinning up at you. "And I really wanted to be cool and pretend that I did. I was going to, but you asked me that and now we're sunk." 

Junie pokes at all the silver metal and turns away, bored, to return to her cartoons. 

"I'm sorry," you say, not sorry at all. 

"You should be." He shakes his hair out. "Can't say woodshop was something I ever paid much attention to in school." 

You squat down beside him where he's counting the screws out for the deadbolt he'd acquired for you, your small cup of juice in hand. The deadbolt isn't new but it's clean of rust and that's all you care about. It doesn't need to do anything besides work. 

"It can't be too hard though, right?" you ask quietly. There isn't any need to talk loudly this close to him and your head is starting to hurt from a long day. 

"I hope not." He passes you the drill. "Hold onto that?" 

He stands and you follow, the deadbolt frame in hand. He turns to your front door and holds it up to the frame, far from the door knob. "Where'd you want this thing?" 

"Wherever you think is best," you say quickly. 

"Got a pencil?" 

You don't. You're ashamed to offer him a cyan blue crayon from Junie's arts and crafts. He takes it with a gleeful smile and uses it to draw a line under the deadbolt's two parts to make sure they fit together once they've been drilled in. 

Junie starts fussing and you squint at her, trying to guess what's wrong. You leave the drill on the small table by the door.

"Junie, you want some dinner?" you ask, walking up behind her where she's stood watching TV. You rub her shoulder and lean over her, your face upside down in front of the TV. "I don't think you're hungry. Let's change that diaper." 

She certainly doesn't want you to. You turn to Eddie where he's making clumsy crosses on the door in place of the screws, his brows furrowed. 

"I'm gonna go get her some jammies," you say, and then wince. "Pajamas." 

"Jammies," he repeats. You hate how happy he looks. 

A hot flush washes over you. "She's the only one I talk to." 

Again, that awful softening of his features. He's got the biggest, brownest eyes you've ever seen. "Why don't you get changed, too? I'm gonna start drilling." He waves the drill and you don't like how loosely he holds it. 

"Please don't ruin the door." 

A wolfish smile. "No promises." 

You leave all the doors open. Eddie's nice but you're not stupid – if he plans on kidnapping her or something evil this is the perfect time. Though, you suppose, he could’ve abducted her when he found her outside.

You shed your uniform and pull on a pair of loose fitting pants. You can't find a clean t-shirt, probably because you own a grand total of three, and you get distracted when the drill starts whirring and Junie screams. 

You know in your heart that it's just a baby scream rather than a sign that she's in pain and you still can't let it lie, rushing down the hall. You can see her, see that she's uninjured, only looking at the drill.

She's excited. 

"You like that?" Eddie asks her. "Is that funny?" 

Junie claps her hands together and reaches for the drill. 

Eddie frowns. "Sorry, you can't have it. I gotta finish the door for your mommy. Why don't you build me something with your bricks, yeah? Something big." 

Junie reaches up for the drill again. 

"I can't, Junie, it's too dangerous. Don't want you to get all mutilated." You wrinkle your nose at what he's saying. He turns the drill towards his chest and touches the drill bit to his collar. "Look, see this? It's not for little hands." 

Junie steps over the case of things on the ground and leans against Eddie's legs, insistent. 

Your mouth drops open as he starts the drill and puts on some fake anguished screams. "Ah! Oh my god, it's eating me!" 

Junie starts laughing at his fake screaming. Her eyes widen, her hands clinging to a rip in his jeans. 

"Think that's funny, do you? Heartless girl. Where's your juice gone, hmm?" He holds the drill behind his back and points to her bottle on the side of the couch where you'd left it. "You want that?" 

He goes over her head to grab it and encourage it into her hands. "Yummy," he says, his eyes moving to where you stand in the door past the kitchen, eyebrows jumping up. "Everything okay?" 

"Screaming," you say, awkward in your breathlessness. 

Eddie's eyes stay resolutely on your face. "She's okay. The drill is exciting. You're shirtless, you know." 

You spin on your heel and back into your room. Your heart a jack hammer, you sieve through clothes until a rumpled t-shirt that smells of deodorant but not sweat appears and shrug into it. 

Junie has a much better selection of clothes. You pick out some matching pajamas for her and a thick pair of socks and tuck them under your arm with her changing matt.

When you return this time, Eddie's drilling a third and fourth hole into the wall next to the door and Junie's watching with the teat of her bottle in her mouth, chewing but not drinking. You lay her mat down on the floor and grab her with a big sigh. 

"Alright, Junie, let's get you all fresh for bed." 

You change her diaper and she doesn't misbehave too much, Eddie's general presence a distraction. Soon she's sitting in your lap, dressed in new pajamas and smelling of talcum powder and baby creams, her wool socks soft as you rub your thumbs into the instep of her feet. 

You sit on the floor watching Eddie drill the screws into the deadbolt frame. Junie slouches against you, her head digging into your chest and her tired arms struggling to hold up her bottle. You hold it up for her, watching Eddie's hands and his arms, how they move. Muscle and ligament tense under the skin, tattoos warping, his bats propelled into flight. 

"I like your tattoos," you say. 

Eddie stops drilling to look over his shoulder. "What?" 

"I- I like your tattoos." 

He lights up. His back straightens out and he turns back to the lock, giving the last screw a final good twist. The door makes a groaning protest and then it's quiet. Just Muppet Babies, Junie's soft suckling and the compliment you'd given adrift in the room. 

"They're pretty sweet," he allows. You can hear how pleased he is though he won't look at you. 

"They're cool. Have you had them long?" 

Eddie starts to tell you all about them, fiddling with something you can't see on the door. 

Junie decides that she doesn't want to be sitting anymore and turns in your arms, hands coveting your neck. You lift her into your chest and rub circles in her back, the weight of her emptying bottle on your shoulder. Soon, her small arms go lax. There's a rush of air as her lips open from the teat and the bottle tumbles to the rug with a dull thud. 

He pulls open the door.  Cool air rushes in. He closes it, slides the deadlock into place, and then pulls hard to make sure it won’t come free. 

It’s solid. 

He laughs triumphantly and Junie stirs. You pat her back and make some quiet shushing sounds and Eddie turns around, a slip of his teeth on show as he grimaces. 

"Sorry," he whispers. 

You shake your head. "You're amazing. Thank you." 

If his cheeks weren't pink they are now. He leans into it, hiding one cheek behind his hair. "Stop," he says, exaggerated. 

"I'll make it good, I swear," you whisper, covering Junie's ear with your hand. "I'll make you the best dinner ever. I'm the best at Kraft's mac and cheese, or-" You flush hot, realising that mac and cheese might not be the treat you think it is to him. "Or we can order in," you say, doing the maths in your head. You can't afford it, but maybe Benny-

"Kraft's mac and cheese? You're spoiling me." 

You beam. 

Eddie cleans up the small mess he's made. You're afraid to move quite yet in case Junie's not really sleeping, though she's a dead weight in your arms, and you watch Eddie walk through the room with both caution and ease. 

"Oh, you don't have to do that,” you say. 

He folds the baby blanket in his hands and puts it back on the armrest of the couch before moving on to the stickle bricks, not looking at you as he says, "Just earning my wage, doll." 

You can't watch him clean your home. You wrap a tight arm around Junie and rise to your feet. Eddie sees your approach and his movements grow faster, rushing to clean up the mess before you can stop him. You don't know who starts first but you're both laughing as you grab his wrist. 

"Stop!" you whisper, mock-furious. "Stop cleaning." 

"Sh, you'll wake the baby." 

You shake your head in bemusement. "I'm gonna go set her down. Then mac and cheese." 

"Take your time. Lots of things for me to clean up out here," he says with a mock sincerity. 

You drift down the hall and turn back to sneak a glance at him. He's pulled Muppet Babies out of the TV and is rewinding it around his thumb, a small smile on his lips as he hums the theme tune to himself. 

With Junie finally in bed for the night you take a quick peek at yourself in the mirror on your nightstand and cringe. You look tired. You give yourself a big smile and feel better; a smile makes even your most exhausted features look pretty. 

You slap on some chapstick. You know, to counter your dry lips. It shines. 

Slipping out of the bedroom, you close the door as quietly as you can manage. 

Eddie's standing at the end of the hallway. You expect to feel scared. Instead, you’re perplexed.

"Hi?" you whisper.

"Can I use the bathroom?" 

You laugh. "Yeah. Course you can." 

You have to pass each other in the hallway. His hip bumps your hip, a short rub of fabric. 

You're still thinking about it when he finds you behind the stove, half asleep with your face in your hand. It's the kind of tired where your eyes keep slipping shut, not aching so much as blurry with a heavy head. 

"You okay?" he asks quietly, sitting down at your cramped table. 

You hum. "Hm. Just tired." You give him a guilty smile as you tip the bigger portion into his bowl.  "Sorry. Mac and cheese with bacon bits for you, my hero." 

"Thanks, sweetheart." 

The fatigue ebbs a little. 

Eddie’s easy to talk to. He makes you laugh. When you say goodnight, he looks back over his shoulder twice.

-

It's a funny coincidence that Eddie sees you Friday night. He never grocery shops on a Friday but he knowd when his uncle gets home in the morning there won’t be anything for him to eat after his shift. He takes a sharp turn towards the TV dinners and there you are at the bottom of the aisle with Junie in the seat of the cart. You're talking to her like you'd talk to anyone, though you didn't sound so saccharine sweet over mac and cheese. Close, but not quite. 

"What do you want?" you're asking. "Ham and pineapple or mini pepperoni?" 

Junie holds her hands out for both boxes. You let her take them and the two of you puzzle over the pizzas, heads bent together. 

"Pepperoni, right?" you ask her, quietly enough that he almost misses it. 

"Peroni," Junie agrees. You let her keep the box and put the other one back in the freezer. 

"Pepperoni," you correct, absentminded. 

"Peroni." 

"Pepper-roni." You sound it out slow, looking at a scrap of paper in your hand. 

"Pepper."

"You'll get there. Do you think we need shampoo this week?" You start jovial, but quickly lose your sprightliness. "Maybe I can put some water in the bottle and just… shake it up. No, we definitely need it." 

Eddie watches you look over the cart. He knows exactly what you're thinking, What can I put back?

"Hey!" he calls, walking a little faster to try and hide how he'd been listening. 

You turn on the spot and smile as soon as you see him. Junie, to his delight, is even more excited. 

"Hi," she says, hands thudding along the cart's handlebar. 

"Hi, Junie. How's my favourite neighbour?" 

She babbles. 

"I'm psyched to hear it. How about you, sweetheart?" he asks, parking his cart next to yours. 

You're looking very tired. Still in your work uniform with a hoodie thrown over the top and your smart flats swapped for a pair of converse with the laces undone. You pinch your cheeks up into a big smile. He guesses that with a baby you've gotten very used to hiding how you feel.

You don't hesitate to lay it down thickly. "I'm really good." 

"Yeah? How's Junie liking daycare?" 

You cover your hands with your sleeves. "She loves it. Loves napping again. She-" You frown. "She doesn't like the mornings. Dropping her off. But after." You nod with a tentative smile "Yeah, it's nice to pick her up." 

"Uh-huh. How's work?" 

"What?" 

"How's work for you? How's Benny's?" he prods. 

"You're asking me about work?" 

"Why wouldn't I be?" 

"Nobody ever asks about work," you say. 

You can't look at him as soon as you've said it, your eyes moving back to the grocery list in hand. It's an old envelope, and it crinkles under your squeezing fingers. 

"Sorry," you mutter. 

Eddie bites back a frown. "Well, I'm asking." 

He holds out his hand for the list and you give it without thinking. He adores your handwriting the second he sees it, scanning the list for anything in this aisle.

"Hey, tell me about it," he prompts at your silence, pushing his cart. It takes you a millisecond to catch up, but when you do you're near frenetic. 

"Well, I messed up like, five different orders today. And when I had Junie it was like they didn't care 'cos she's cute, but now she's not there they get pretty angry pretty quickly." 

"She's like a magic item." 

"Right," you say, sounding like you have no idea what he's talking about. "She was my lucky charm. 'N now when I mess up I gotta practically beg some of those guys to leave Benny alone. He's too nice to me already."

"Are they all terrible?"

"No, the regulars, guys in there everyday, they're all great. They're too generous. Benny's too generous. I know he's fluffing up my tip jar. I hate that. I don't want him-" You flinch. It's strange. Eddie takes a small step closer to you and waits for you to continue, but you've lost all steam. "Sorry, I don't mean to weigh you down with all of this." 

"I asked. And I get it." 

"I don't want him to feel sorry for me." 

"Hey," he says, reaching out for a box of cereal on your list. He presents it to Junie and shakes it around, "who said anything about all that?" 

"No, I know, I just-" 

Junie smiles her approval and he chucks the cereal in your cart with a rattle of metal. "I'm not trying to make you feel worse, I swear. I get it. I- You said he's a nice guy, right? So maybe he doesn't feel sorry for you at all. Maybe he just likes you. He owns that place. I don't think it hurts him to put an extra twenty in your tips." 

Junie reaches up. You turn to her and lean down until your face is a few inches from hers. "I wish I didn't need it," you say quietly. 

"I know." 

Junie puts her hand on your cheek. 

You sniff, not crying or anything like that, only breathing. "Thanks, Junie," you murmur. 

"Mommy," she says. She sounds a little concerned. 

"Let's go get something yummy, baby." You stroke her face lightly. "I'm thinking canned peaches. Or pears, um. Fruit cocktail. And condensed milk," you add, sounding unsure.

"I got a can or two of that laying around," Eddie says, because he knows that shit is expensive. "Wayne hates sweet stuff." 

"I couldn't-" 

"You let me come over for one of those mini pizzas and I'll bring the dessert," he says, like he knows you'll say yes. He doesn't know. Eddie Munson’s an expert in pushing his luck. 

Junie starts clapping her hands together. 

"I think she's decided," you say. 

-

You're terrible with a can opener. You whine to yourself as you struggle to get open the second can. Eddie had insisted on peaches and pears and fruit cocktail, because he wanted to try them all apparently. And then some dramatic speech about little kids getting spoiled.

You can hear him now in the living room with Junie. They're laughing in a way that you're worried about, that guilty, hushed giggling that raises your hackles. 

"Shush," Eddie says, faux-angry, "your mom's gonna hear." 

"Shush," she repeats with much more enthusiasm. 

"You shush! Look, don't do that, Junie, you're gonna get it tangled in your hair," he says. 

You carry the can and can opener with you into the living room. Something about tangled hair gets your heart racing. 

"Eddie, please don't let her get stickies in her hair," you say quickly. 

"They're called stickles," he says, dropping back onto his hands, head over his shoulder to give you a bright-eyed smile. 

"I know what they're called. Junie can't say stickles." 

"Stickles," she says. 

"She couldn't when I got them," you amend. 

He's up quicker than you can really take in, hands extended. "Let me do it," he says. 

He works the can out of your fingers. It's more contact than you've had with somebody who wasn't your daughter in a very long time and it leaves you shell-shocked. Eyes on his nice hands, bigger than yours with thicker fingers and his riot of rings. He presses the can to his chest and hooks the opener, peeking between it and you intermittently. 

"Go see what we made for you," he encourages. "I'll do it." 

His arm brushes yours as he moves to the kitchen and that's worse than his fingers. You rub where he'd touched and drop down on your knees next to Junie, looking over the stickle bricks with a smile. It's a heart, poorly construed and of tens of colours. It falls apart when she tries to pick it up so you help her remake it, cooing. 

"Thanks, baby. This is for me, huh? You're so sweet." Your voice drops to a murmur. "My sweet girl. Wanna cuddle?" 

You open your arms out and she doesn't seem very interested. "Please?" you ask, vying for her waist. 

She lets you pull her into your lap. When you actually start to hug her she does her lovely melting thing that she always does, a floppy fish in your arms but with tiny squeezing hands. You giggle at her antics and lift her up so her face falls into your neck. 

"Thanks for my heart, Junebug." She snuggles her head into your neck, hair squished to your skin. "I love you," you whisper, rubbing her back. 

"The works," Eddie announces grandly as he appears, two bowls in hand.

"Eddie, that's too much for her." 

"She's a growing girl." 

"A growing girl with a tiny tummy," you say turning her around in your arms. "Tell you what, you have that one," you point to the biggest one, "and we'll share that one." 

"How about you share the big one?" he asks, though it hardly sounds like a question. He sits down and places the bowl in her lap. 

You grab the spoon before she can and stir up some of the fruits. "Wow, look at this! You gonna say thanks? Thanks Eddie.”

She doesn’t say thanks — her mouth is too far open to form words. You make quick work of shovelling fruit and condensed milk inside, chilled enough that she shivers in your arms. 

“Yeah, that’s good,” you say agreeably.

She gets enthusiastic enough to take the spoon and you let her, even when she totally mauls the food, eating so loudly that Muppet Babies becomes inaudible. 

Eddie eats slowly. You can feel his gaze. “You’re not gonna have any?” he asks. 

You’d felt it coming. Your answer is clumsy anyways. “No, I will. I just… I always have her leftovers,” you say, sheepish. 

He stands up. 

You’re gonna ask why when Junie tips fruit down your legs, cold on the naked skin of your ankle. You dab at your pajamas with a small sigh. There’s no point in getting upset. She’s a messy eater but they all are at this age. Honestly, it’s nice to see her attempting to use a spoon rather than her hands. 

“You’re doing a good job,” you say. You’re not totally sure who you’re talking to. 

“Tada!” Eddie cheers, wielding a third bowl of fruit. “Swap with me?”

“What?”

“You think Junie’ll come sit in my lap?” he asks. He doesn’t wait, really. He holds out the bowl and you take it on impulse as he sits down heavily. 

He takes her into his lap with a cheerful groan. “Oh, c’mere, sweetheart. There’s enough milk on your chin to bake a cake.” He wipes it with his hand. He doesn’t so much as wince at the mess. 

You stare. He eases the spoon out of her grip and scrapes up a half-spoonful of what looks like pear and feeds it to her with the same kind of deftness of hand that’d taken you months to learn. 

He can feel your gaze, evidently, because he looks up. There, you catch it, that slither of insecurity he hides well. 

You pick up your bowl and start eating. It’s the nicest thing you’ve eaten in almost two years. You’d die for Junie. You’d do worse. But to eat, to know she’s fed — gorged — to know you can sit here and eat this whole bowl of fruit all to yourself and you won’t have to put it down, that’s heaven. It’s better, because you never let yourself have anything nice if you can help it. 

The fruit turns to a lump in your throat and you swallow it, sniffling. Your lashes grow heavy with unshed tears and you keep your gaze resolutely on your dessert. When was the last time you had something this nice all to yourself? When was the last time somebody ever went out of their way to be this nice?

It’s a small gesture and a huge one. A tear dribbles down your cheek. You lick it away and keep on eating. 

-

Eddie starts to come around every Friday. It’s a good deal; you make dinner and he makes dessert. After that first time he makes it his mission to give you heaping bowls too much to eat most of the time. Soon, he’s coming a few days a week, not always long, sometimes until the late hours, though you tell him desserts are a Friday only occasion. He complies grudgingly. 

You make your first friend in years, and it’s so sweet you don’t know what to do with yourself. 

Or what possesses you to offer to cut his hair. 

Eddie's sitting on the couch with Junie, his big thigh to her little one and a picture book spread between them whilst you clean the kitchen. He's not reading to her – she's trying to read to him. She can't read, of course, but she can remember some of the words in relation to the pictures. She pokes at the blue cat and says blue. She pokes at the blue dog and says blue. She also points at the red cat and says blue. It's a learning curve. 

Eddie gives corrections and encouragements just as you would. You smile at him from behind your cup of water. 

"He's red, sweetheart," he murmurs, arm around her shoulder to hold the book's edges. "Red cat." 

"Red cat," she repeats with enough accuracy to make you choke on your water. 

Eddie gasps almost as loud as you do. "Right! Red cat! You're so smart, junebug, I can't believe it," he praises, squeezing her shoulder. His gaze meets yours and he smiles. 

You send him back your sweetest smile. If he wasn't always so nice to you you'd like him anyway because of how he treats Junie, like she's the fucking sun. 

She gets so excited when other people are happy that she starts laughing, standing up and trampling all over his legs to give him a hug. She's given him half hugs, she's fallen asleep by his side and loves to pet his hair, but this is a proper, tactile hug. Her arms wind around his neck with purpose and as soon as his surprise has faded he brings his arms up to hug her in turn, laughing delightedly. 

"You're such a smarty-pants," he praises, rubbing her back with a boyish brashness. 

She squeals as he squeezes her, his fingers digging into her ribs. Never cruel, only tickling her. She eats up every second of it and buries her face in his neck, laughing her wound up baby laugh that always brings a smile to your face. 

"Ooh, she's so smart. First blue, then red. Next you'll be saying indigo, and vermillion, and-" 

He cuts off when Junie gets one of her nails caught in his hair. She jolts and whines like it hurts and he goes rigid. You move forward to play mediator but he's already pulling her away gently and making small shushing sounds. "Chill out," he chides lightly, "I got it. Here." He pulls the hair from under her fingernail and rubs the pad of his thumb over her hand. "Sorry, I'm sorry," he apologises, pouting at her scowl. He envelops her hand in his and waves it around. "Forgive me?" 

She doesn't learn her lesson, pushing her hands back into his hair, probably less kind than what’s ideal. Eddie doesn't flinch. 

You sit on the armrest gingerly. "Can I ask you something?"

Eddie looks over Junie’s head. "What's that?" 

"Have you always had long hair?" 

He doesn't balk. "No, of course not. I fu-" He clears his throat. "My mom was the best, and I fit in just like everybody else growing up. When I ended up with Wayne I was-" He smiles. It's the kind of rueful grimace that says, You didn't ask for this.

You smile encouragingly.

He drops his gaze to Junie, worming his arms around her in a loose hug as she continues to play with his hair. "I was mad about everything, and I remember him asking when I wanted to get my hair trimmed and I said ‘never’. Took a few years for it to grow past the awkward stage," he bares his teeth and nods toward his shoulder, as if allowing his past misdemeanour. "But now I'd say it looks pretty sweet." 

"I love your hair," you say. 

Eddie beams. "You don't think it's too long?" 

Emboldened by his reaction, you slip off of the armrest to sit next to him, turning in until your knees touch. Junie, loyal as she is, climbs straight into your lap with a babble. 

You pat her back with one hand and raise the other cautiously for permission. Eddie flares his eyes wide, as if to say, You want to? Go on. 

You take a lock of his hair between your fingers like Junie had moments before. "I like it like this." 

"But?" 

You look at the ends, an inch of limpness where the rest curls. "You haven't had it cut since you were a kid?" 

"Maybe not that long, but it's been a while. I do it myself sometimes." He gestures to his bangs. He speaks quietly. A rarity though not unknown for him to be so hushed. 

You tuck the curl you'd been examining behind his ear carefully. 

"Do you think my hair looks good?" you ask. 

"Sh- Sorry, of course I do. I swear I was gonna-"

You shake your head, laughing. "Not like that. What I mean is, I cut my own hair. I cut Junie's, too, and I could do yours if you wanted me to." 

He goes quiet. 

"Only if you wanted. I know it's a lot of trust, so-" 

"Would you do it now?" 

You hold Junie's head away from yours to prevent a loving headbut. "Right now?" 

"I'm in dire need." 

He throws his big brown puppy dog eyes your way and you couldn't say no if you wanted to. 

You explain how he needs to get it wet first and how the shower head in the bathroom doesn't detach. "It's, like, built into the wall." 

"I could go home, come back?" he suggests. 

"I can do it over the sink?" 

-

Eddie can't remember the last time somebody washed his hair for him. He knows there must've been a time, some place in his life where his mom or dad had done it for him. He thinks that, if he'd asked, Wayne would've tried it once or twice growing up, but now Eddie's most definitely at the age where having his hair washed is a foreign luxury. 

And it does feel luxurious.

It shouldn't; the sink basin is very small as they tend to be in the trailer kitchenettes – small sink, small stove, small small small – and Eddie has to crane his neck. Already the space between his shoulder blades aches from being bent over, and he can't breathe well, smothered by steam. 

But your hands. One shields his eyes from run off, a gesture unnecessary and far from lost on him, while the other massages shampoo into his scalp. He'd been surprised when you started because you hadn't mentioned washing his hair, and he'd said, "You don't have to do that." 

You'd hummed. "Well, it's kind of a waste not to." 

That was that. 

Your nails scratch lightly against his scalp and if his eyes weren't already closed they would've fluttered shut. He nibbles his lip and tries very hard not to show outwardly how nice it feels. Your left upper arm rubs against his back as you scrub at his roots, your right soaking wet beside his face, covering his eyes uselessly. He doesn't mention it. All this touching, he doesn't want it to end.

Your proximity honest-to-God sets him on fire. Your body pressed to his is a flame over his ribs. 

"Maybe we shouldn't cut it at all," you say, stroking wet bangs away from his forehead. "It's soooo long." 

"Can’t do it?" he teases.

"Keep your eyes closed, okay? I'm gonna rinse." 

It's a comforting process. You dip your cup into the water. It fills with a wet glug, the rim shushing against the basin's bottom. You hold it over his head and pour carefully, heat caressing his scalp as the soap is washed away. 

It's over too soon. You grab the towel you'd procured and tuck it around his shoulders, wringing all the excess water from his curls back into the sink. You encourage his head up wordlessly and he stands there, arms useless against the countertops edge, water sloughing down his face as you press the ends flat between your hands. 

You lift his head and push his hair back with your hands, raking your fingers through it and laughing as soon as his face appears. "Eddie! I'm sorry, you're totally drowning." 

He chuckles. They fade away as you pinch the corner of the towel and start to dab his face dry, dragging the rough material over his cheeks with an expression he can't read on your pretty features. Almost pensive, not quite. 

"There," you say under your breath. "Saved you." 

"My hero." 

You smile at him softly before spinning on your heel. "I gotta find the hairbrush. And the good scissors." You look into the living room quickly and then turn to the hall leading to your bedroom. 

Eddie looks into the living room too. Junie's not upto much, only watching TV, unusually subdued. He doesn't disturb her despite the itch to go over and play.

One of the muppets starts laughing about something and she laughs too. 

"What are you smiling about?" you whisper from behind him. 

"Nothing," he says quickly.

You raise your eyebrows. "She has a nice laugh, right? Doesn't matter how bad I feel, she laughs and everything's okay for a little while." 

He feels a fond stab in his chest. "Her laugh's like yours." 

"I guess we do sound the same." 

You do, but it's not really what he'd meant. 

The metal sound of scissors snapping. You wield them at him faux-threateningly and shepherd him into a chair you've dragged to the middle of the kitchen. 

Eddie fights goosebumps as you pull a brush through his hair, loses when you take a lock at the front between two fingers and stop about an inch and a half from the end. 

"I'm gonna do that much, okay?" 

You're a quiet hairdresser. Eddie doesn't care, he can talk for Indiana, but there's something so sweetly simple about the quietude, just your hands in his hair, the snipping of your scissors and Junie's occasional excited chattering. You start to hum a song Eddie doesn't recognise about halfway through. It's melancholy. He doubts you realise what you're doing. 

You draw silent as you round to the front. Eddie watches your hands work for what feels like hours. You have really pretty hands, not perfect, burnt fingertips and neat little nails. They smell like honey hand soap.

You pull two locks from the front together to make sure they're the same length. His curls will hide any discrepancy, he knows from experience, but he doesn't want to tell you that. Selfishly, he wants that extra time with you this close. 

You work your way between his legs to comb his half-dried bangs. Eddie looks up at you with wide eyes.

"You want me to trim these, too?" you ask quietly. 

"If you please." 

You huff a laugh through your nose and start to trim his bangs carefully. He closes his eyes, and maybe it's the fact that he can't see you that gives him the confidence to reach out for your hip, a touch that can't be defined as amicable. He curls his fingers into the soft material of your shirt and feels the heat of your skin underneath. 

You draw closer, as close as you can be. 

"What made you decide on bangs?" you ask. 

"Zits, mostly." 

He can feel your laugh under his hand. 

"I used to… I used to powder my face," you confide, a murmur, "like, an inch thick to try and hide everything. Being pregnant makes you so-" You pause to snip some hair, comb it away. It tickles his face. "Well, it makes you spotty. Or it made me spotty. It actually made me really sick." 

"That's must've sucked," he says earnestly. 

"It- Yeah. I guess it did. I don't know." 

He hadn't meant to bring up something unhappy, but he's hungry to know. "Were you on your own?" 

"Mostly." 

"What was the worst part?" 

"Being scared all the time."

He'd been expecting morning sickness or aching feet. "You were scared?" 

"I honestly thought I was gonna die, Eddie." 

He opens his eyes and leans back in his chair, hand flexing over your hip, as he tries to tamp down his surprise. 

"It was," you mess with his bangs with the tip of your ring finger, "hard. I felt sick all the time, and when I didn't I would make myself sick worrying about her. What if I eat something or I catch something and it hurts her? What if- what if it all works out perfectly and then I can't look after her?" 

"Did it work out perfect?" 

You rub your lips together. "Uh, I guess so. It took a long time, and it hurt," you sound especially unhappy with that part. 

He strokes up your waist, wanting to soothe the small crease between your eyebrows. "By yourself?" 

"Yeah, by myself." 

"I'm sorry." 

You tuck his hair behind his ear and grin at him. "Now what are you sorry for?" Your hand lingers near his cheek. Slowly, you turn it, pressing the knuckle of your index finger into the skin under his eye and rubbing a small line. He worries he’s in love with you right then and there. "Not like you're the one who knocked me up." 

You drop your hand and Eddie really doesn't want you to go anywhere, his grip kind but steadfast, bringing the other arm behind your back in a loose hug. "Who was it?" 

"Just some guy. Nobody. Nobody worth thinking about." 

"How old were you?" he asks. 

"Why are you asking me all this stuff?"

"I wanna know about you." 

You bring your hands to the towel around his neck and pull on it mildly. "I was sixteen. Seventeen when I had her." 

He drags his fingertips up and down the small of your back lightly, almost like he's playing guitar. "I'm sorry you were all by yourself. That young. When I was sixteen I was still watching The Bugs Bunny Show."

You giggle and your hands move up to the side of his neck. He can hardly breathe, afraid to dispel whatever enchantment it is that he's under. 

"Could be worse, huh? I'm nineteen and I still watch Muppet Babies," you joke. 

"Why wouldn't you? It's the pinnacle of modern television." 

"Yeah?" 

Your beaming smile hits him straight in the chest. He thinks about how beautiful you look and can't stop, hiding his face in your stomach to stop from saying something stupid, laughing loud. You laugh in tandem, hugging the back of his head until your giggles peter out. 

A small hand on his arm. You both turn at the same time and find a very unhappy Junie.

"What?" you ask her. Then, teasing, "Are you jealous?" 

You lean down to pick her up. Eddie's gutted to lose your touch and then quickly exuberant when Junie ducks out of your arms to grab at his legs. 

"Oh my god, yes," he says, holding out his hands. 

Junie tries to take them and he slips them under his arm, pulling her onto his thigh with a big sigh. The sigh is half the fun, a theatrical reluctance when really he's always happy to have her climbing on him. 

As soon as she's in his lap she's pleased, turning her head so she can watch the TV across the room. 

You roll your eyes at his smug smile. "Shut up. She just wants what other people have." 

"And you had me?" 

"Shut up, Munson, seriously," you say. You don't sound half as mad as you're trying to. 

Eddie takes a drying curl between his fingers and pokes at the side of Junie's face. "Whatever you want, sweetheart," he says, grinning when your daughter starts to squirm on his thigh. 

He grins at her and tickles her until she's curling in with her chin dropped to her chest, smiling despite herself. 

His fondness colours every word as he croons, "I got you." 

Junie sounds about as outraged as a toddler can be when he tickles her nose and then drags the tip of the freshly trimmed curl under her eye. He draws a big circle around one of her cheeks until it's kissing her chin. She dissolves into giggles while squirming to get away from him and so he stops, only for her to blink and tug at his wrist. 

He tickles her until she's screaming. 

You pause on your knees where you'd been sweeping up his trimmed hair to look up at her and he's struck with guilt. "Y/N, you don't have to do that. I'll do it." 

"No, you're okay." 

Eddie finds his gaze drawn to your thighs, spread out as they are in your kneeling position, and then stolen by Junie as she almost topples off of his lap. 

"I think…" he begins quietly, speaking to Junie though it's just as much for you, "that your mom deserves something nice for my haircut. What do you think?" 

"I don't think that," you say. 

"Wasn't asking you," he says seriously. Back in baby mode he continues,  "What's mommy like, huh? What's her favourite thing in the whole world, besides you?" 

"Sleep," you say. 

"Well, I can't help you there." 

"You help me there all the time. Junie sleeps like a log every Friday." 

"Food coma," he says knowledgeably. 

"You really don't have to get me anything, Eddie. My services were administered charitably." 

He pushes his hands behind Junie's back and pulls her to his chest before standing. When he has her secure in one arm he pulls the chair back to your small table and tucks it in.

"Get up," he says to you. "I'll do it, alright? Swap with me." 

You ignore him until he starts kicking you in the leg. "You're ridiculous!"

"You're ridiculous. Seriously, get up. You're not a serf." He returns your glare. "I'm a big boy, I can clean up after myself." 

"It's my house." 

"If you don't let me-" 

"Christ! Okay." You drop the dustpan and brush sullenly, wiping your hands together as you stand before taking Junie out of his arms. "I'll make dinner." 

"No you won't! I'm gonna order takeout," he says factually, already on his knees and sweeping. 

"No you're not." 

"I am. Me and June already talked about it. She's craving Marino's pizza." 

"I'm not gonna let you use the phone." 

"I'll walk to my place and order the pizza to here." 

"Eddie-" 

"Why are you being a hardass?" he asks. 

"Fine! God, clean up your gross hair and order your stupid pizza. You're making me crazy," you say, collapsing onto the sofa with a little oomf, Junie's weight hitting you hard in the chest. She moves into a sitting position and pulls your shirt up, hands moving across the space under your chest. 

Eddie throws himself into cleaning all the mess you'd made for him, the hair and the towel and the sopping wet draining board. He washes the dirty baby bowl on the side and fills up one of Junie's bottles with water, then a glass for you. He hasn't seen either of you drinking a thing since he's been here, likely his fault for distracting you. 

He's about to call for pizza when he peers past the cabinets and sees you dozing on the couch. He decides pizza can wait until tomorrow; it's later than he realised. 

Junie's halfway across the room with Mr. Bear playing make believe. She talks and talks and talks, gibberish to him but what's likely an unending, complicated storyline, no doubt. 

Eddie approaches with the bottle already outstretched. "Junie," he says, and when she doesn't answer, "Junebug. Junie. Junie." Each iteration of her name softer and sweeter than the first, hoping to entice her in. 

He holds the bottle in front of her face.

She finally looks up with a pout. 

"For you," he says, offering the water. 

She seems mildly interested as she takes it, turning back to her teddy and talking around the teat like it's not there. 

You're struggling to keep your eyes open. Eddie gives the room a quick once over before kneeling down in front of you, tugging your shirt down to cover your exposed tummy as he says, "I should head home." 

You blink at him and turn onto your side, cheek squishing into the couch cushion. 

"Okay? Why don't you and Junebug head to bed?" he asks, using a tone not far from what he'd use with your daughter. 

"You know, her full name's Juniper," you whisper. 

He didn't know. "Really? I love that." 

You wrinkle your nose, sounding very tired as you continue, "But someone told me it sounded like a name for a cat. So I've called her Junie ever since."

"It doesn't sound like a cat's name," he placates. "It's beautiful. You chose well." 

"Yeah?" 

Eddie smiles at you fondly, eyes tracing down your nose to your lips, shiny with balm. He tilts his head to the side to mimic yours. He could kiss you. 

"Sounds like the name of an elf. Juniper Lightfoot, or… Goldwind. She could even be a mage. Juniper the Brave." 

"Juniper the Loveliest," you say, and then grin. "Juniper the Hungriest." 

"Juniper the All Great and Hungriest," Eddie says decidedly. 

"Would you make her a hero, in your game?" you ask. 

"Of course I would. She wouldn't even need to divide, she'd just conquer." 

"What about me?" 

"What, would you be a hero?" 

You nod. He doesn't know why, but he thinks his answer is going to hold a lot of weight with you. 

"You would be," he starts quietly, words painted slowly as he raises a hand to rest on your wrist, pinky finger spread over the hill of your thumb, "a fighter. With insight and survival." 

"I don't know what that means," you say. 

He leans in. "It means yes, you'd be a hero. You'd save kingdoms. Slay dragons." He squeezes your wrist. 

"I think I better leave all that stuff for Junie. I'll just cheer you guys on from the sidelines." 

"You're her mom, she can't do it without you. And even if she could I bet she wouldn't want to. Where's all the fun in guts and glory if you can't share it?" he asks, rubbing his thumb over your skin.

Your eyes shut. Eddie doesn't know if it's from fatigue or a want to end this conversation. He feels marginally embarrassed for descending into nerd metaphor with you, but he thinks it's the kind of thing you needed to hear. He thinks if Junie could understand how often her mom prioritises her and misses out for her she'd want to fix that. Eddie doesn't know you half as well as she does and it breaks his heart sometimes to watch you insist on a smaller portion, to watch you put things back at the grocery store because she wants a box of milk duds, even to watch you wear yourself out ironing baby clothes in the only pair of pajamas you own. 

"Make sure you lock the deadbolt behind me," he says carefully. You hum. He gives your wrist one last squeeze. 

Junie looks tired in that she's getting agitated, whimpering under her breath. Eddie ducks down to give her upper arm a good rub. "Why don't you go cuddle with your mom?" he asks her, turning her by the shoulder so that you're in her eye-line. "Go have a lie down." 

He doesn't know whether what he says makes any difference but you extend your arms out and Junie walks towards you, big staggered steps that make him laugh to himself as he pushes into his unlaced converse. 

"Don't forget to lock up," he says in place of a farewell. 

"Goodnight, Eddie," you say. 

He waves. You're both too tired to wave back. 

He's surprised to find his Uncle Wayne still home when he gets in, shoving into his work boots with a grunted hello.

"Hey." 

"Did you cut your hair?" Wayne asks, perplexed, a little gruff. 

"Junie's mom did it for me." 

"'Junie's mom,'" Wayne quotes dryly, slugging his bag over his shoulder. He's heard all about Junie's mom.

Eddie scratches the back of his neck and splutters when a big hand claps his back, a demonstration of Wayne's pity as he passes through the open door. 

Eddie spins to watch him jog down the steps. "We're friends," Eddie calls. 

"Don't be dumb," his uncle says without turning back. 

"I'm not exactly known for being smart," Eddie says to himself, cheeks heated by a furious blush. 

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thank you for reading! | my masterlist | multi-chapter

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

[seattlesellie]

training wheels.

this is an old draft that i wrote a long time ago, about ellie using the strap on you for the first time. ♡‧₊˚

warnings: strap on sex (r!reciving) , first time , praise kink (for both) , soft and loving dom top!ellie , sub bottom!reader , cock grinding , thumb sucking .

──★ we have to make it clear on the fact that ellie was so unbelievably thrilled, yet so incredibly tentative when she first fucked you with her strap on. she’s been waiting for it, waiting to be the one claiming you from inside. she’s had it sitting snuggly in a box tucked below her bed for a while now, and she’d always eye it, have some sort of stare down with the black box. should she? or should she not? she wondered, but when three of her fingers were scissoring inside of you and you muttered that “please, d- deeper” she knew that fuck it — she should.

──★ so expectably, the first words that came out of her quivering lips when she aligned the silicone shaft with your sopping entrance, were “are you sure? i need to know you want this, please”, and you — being so eager yet so timid, only responded with two fervent nods. clearly, it wasn’t enough for ellie, in fact, it wasn’t enough at all, so her voice got very stern all of a sudden. it was that tone she only uses when she’s commanding someone to do something on patrol, when she’s directing someone on where to go, or showing them how to polish a precious weapon. it carries a deepness to it, raspy, it’s strong and forceful, nothing that falls short of intimidating. it's a different side of ellie, one that you don't know quite as well. “use your words, m’not doing this unless you use them”, and when she notices how you thickly gulp, huffing out a shaky breath from your nose, she soothes you with a delicate kiss on your temple. you whine, that kiss makes you want more. as soft as it may be, it makes you buck your hips inwards and let go of a needy high pitched moan. ellie shushes you with her sweet “i know babe, i know” — and you know that she knows, so why won’t she just put it inside?

──★ perhaps it’s the need to affirm herself that you do want this, or maybe it’s this greed she holds and the yearning to hear you say it. she’s looking deep into your blown out eyes, your dark irises, nods her head twice and waits for your words. meanwhile, whilst she waits, she slides her thumb down to caress just above your clit. she’s circling your skin with a touch to soothe, or perhaps signaling you what she’ll do when it’s inside, she'll never neglect your little button. when you look down, she hums. “words, mhm?” she murmurs. you can tell she’s all tensed up, fighting the urge to just slide it inside because she knows she can, she knows you need it by the way your chest heaves up and down, and by the way there’s a small puddle of slick that formed on the flimsy bedsheet below. moreover, she has prepared you for it, first with her skilled tongue, then with her skilled fingers. “want it, i need…” you whisper, voice airy yet cracking. ellie removes her finger from your pelvis, brings it up to your cheek and caresses softly. “need what, pretty girl, huh? need what?”

──★ truthfully, you don’t really know how to call it, she’s never really referenced it by it’s name, just called it a “thing” you “might need” when she realized how eagerly your hole pulls her fingers inside, and squeezes like she might run away if you don’t. so when you see the deep, dark purple shaft (with two distinct veins on the side) you simply giggle out of inexperience, and a tinge of embarrassment. ellie smirks, looking down at you, then grins with her eyebrows arched up in amusement. “ellie… i dunno, uh, how to call it… i mean —“ and she stops you mid sentence, smacking your lips softly with hers. she chuckles, matches your giggle even, a deep blush appearing on the apples of her cheeks because fuck — what if you laugh, what if you don’t like it, or what if you don’t want to use those dirty words she likes calling her silicone buddy by. “uh… shit babe, it’s, well you can call it…” she stammers, now attempting to stifle her laugh. you look up at her and form a tight line with your lips. your chest’s heaving and stifling giggles because fuck it, she’s cute when she’s embarrassed, and how fucking precious is it that you can laugh with her even in a moment like this. you cunt can ache for her and you can still be silly together and giggle like kids because you trust her and she trusts you.

──★ she buries her face in the crook of your neck, groaning yet giggling and nearly falling on top of you. when her hips slightly buck down, in result of her laughs, the silicone shaft grinds itself up against your slippery slit, and you whine her name so loud her giggles stop like she’s been hit on the face with a rock. now, you can hear her harsh breaths in your ear, loud with anticipation and want, lips resting on the pulse of your neck. she realizes you must fucking love the grinding of it all, so she moves her hips back and forth to grind up against you some more. “uh huh, like that?” she murmurs, and to every whimper she responds with a groan like she can feel it, like she can actually feel your greedy wet lips wrapping around her. she nibbles on your earlobe, making you shiver, and breathes deeply before speaking into your ear. “fuuuuu” she gasps and it’s breathless, like she’s trying to form actual words but they only come out as muffled gibberish. she breathes again, gaining her courage. “my cock… say you want my cock”.

──★ it really is lewd, “her cock” — as if it’s hers, attached to her, as if she can feel it. it makes your tummy tie in knots, makes your throat feel clogged, your breaths come out harsher and bordering on wheezing before you murmur those words. when the mushroom like tip bumps up against your clit, it’s oh so delicious and fuck it — you want, as lewd as may be, you need her cock. “i want your cock, ellie, inside” you cry for her, and she nearly growls in your ear. although it’s bordering on perverted now, she asks you a simple “inside where?”, it makes you hiccup against her skin, and you don’t even realize she’s smiling so bright inside the crook of your neck. she understands that if she eggs you on, you will fucking say it, so she repeats with a raspy; “c'mon, where?”

──★ when it becomes crystal clear to you that unless you voice everything out; she won’t give it to you, and you’re practically clenching in and out over nothing — you whisper “need… ellie, i need it in my pussy, please, please, please” and god, she nearly regrets making you say it because she might burst inside her boxers if you keep begging for it like such a needy girl. she takes a moment to think about it, needy, needy, needy, needy for her, for her cock — needy for her to fuck you, needy for her inside and christ sake you’re begging and she didn’t even ask you to. you’re feeding her ego with every plea, with every quivering breath and you don’t even know it. meanwhile, whilst she’s busy thinking about how to pull back on her goddamn nearing on untouched orgasm, she doesn’t even realize your hand is wrapped around her dick and you’re nearly pushing it inside. when she sees it, she nearly goes cross eyed. she grabs your hand and pushes it up, chasing your eyes with hers. “what are you doing, huh?” she drawls, affirming her dominance with an iron grip on your wrist. you’re actually helpless, caught in the act, wiggling your hips and rolling them upwards. “p-please, ellie!” you beg, and the knots inside ellie’s own stomach feel like they’re tightening more and more they might break like glass. she wraps her own hand around the shaft and nearly pushes the tip in. you wince — and to that ellie shushes. “look at me, jus’ look at me”, and how can you not? she looks so adoring, a squiggly smile on her lips when she realizes the tip damn near slipped from how soaked up you are. the actual noise it makes, moist and sticky, makes ellie whimper out your name. “y’hear that?”, she murmurs and of course you can, in fact it makes you embarrassed but she praises you once more, making the embarrassment nothing but a fleeting little feeling. “sounds so good baby, s’all for me?” — all for her.

──★ she pushes the tip inside, no longer gripping your wrist above your head, intently guiding it to hold her wherever you want. you decide on one hand on her bicep, the other one on the back of her neck. there’s a pinching pain inside of your cunt, but it’s so fucking delicious because it’s her thats creating it — that when you wince it comes out as more of a blissful moan and a gasp. she won’t let you suffer, not for one second more, so she slides her hand down to caress your clit as she pushes more inches in. “mhm, ‘s, ‘so good baby… you’re so good, doin’ so good for me, you got this… yeah? i got you” she’s rambling, searching and scanning your face for any sign of pain or regret, and when she catches that you’re smiling, actually smiling with a tear shedding from your eye, she moans so loud you have to seal her lips with yours or else the whole town of jackson might hear.

──★ the more inches she slides inside, the more ellie lets loose of her gritted teeth. her mouth goes slightly agape, “stay open for me, jus’ like that, fuckyou’resogood” she croons, still circling and toying with your puffy clit from below. your thighs are nothing but trembling and shaking like jelly, body, flesh and brain turning into mushy pink and ellie shaped goo, and the fact that she doesn’t stop with her praising and sweet nothings, repeating how good you are, how brave, and tight — makes your heart flutter inside of your chest. when all of it’s length is finally inside of your gummy walls, she lets it sit there for a few faint moments before she begins thrusting. “just for me, got that? just for me, this is mine, all mine” she murmurs more to herself than to you, but you make sure to affirm her nevertheless. “m’yours, please ‘mo— ‘more”, you’re begging for that sharp friction, for that movement, but ellie needs to treasure this moment so she simply looks down. it’s all inside, it’s her cock that’s inside — claiming you, so she marvels, examines and thoroughly looks at your pussy clenching on her dick like it’s a goddamn work of art. if you squeezed down on her fingers like they might run away, the squeeze you have down on her cock — “god damn” she whispers, might need to take a picture and fucking frame it. finally, she catches your pleading gaze. “gonna move now, babe, c— can i move?”, and you whine, because it’s beginning to feel unfair, so she connects her lips with yours and slides her hot tongue inside. she breaks the kiss, grinning like she won the apocalypse lottery. “mhm, gonna move, gonna give you what you want”

──★ at first, she thrusts agonizingly slow like a snail. moves her hips backwards and doesn’t slam it fully inside, lets the tip hang nearly outside of your entrance and then slowly but deliciously slips it in again. you wail, actually wail for her to go deeper, and it clicks in her head when you scratch her back in a way that makes her hiss. she bottoms out fully, moving backwards and then slides inwards again. she won’t stop looking into your goddamn eyes, then stares into your lips that are now “o” shaped. she’s flushed and she’s biting her bottom lip so hard it might draw blood, but then she asks you “t’feels good?” and doesn’t add that cocky “huh?” that she loves to murmur when her fingers are the ones your cunt is hugging, because she actually needs to know. “mhm, good ellie, you’re so good to me” you praise, which sends ellie into a goddamn frenzy — eyelids fluttering and falling heavy as a deep, throaty chuckle escapes from within. “god fuckin’ damn, how did i even…” then she slams it again, which makes both of you gasp. her right thigh shakes, “fuckin’ get so fuckin’ lucky with you?”, she wont stop cussing, slurring up her words and misplacing her “fucks” and her “fucking”s. the louder your moans get, the braver ellie grows, pumping her cock harder now, milking every thrust and every whimper, “who’s f-f fucking you, hm?” she asks, and her thumb neglects your clit but you don’t even need it anymore since she’s giving it to you so good from within. her digit meets your face, caressing the corner of your lip, which makes you take your tongue out and ellie realizes you want it inside as well. you seem to want everything inside, huh? she thinks. her cock, her fingers, her tongue, her goddamn thumb. she complies out of want, curiosity, how slutty would you look sucking on her finger. admittedly, she’s had dreams about it, about you; bent down on your knees sucking on a popsicle in july, sucking a lollipop as she watches from above. she gazes at your cheeks hollow in as she slides her thumb in and out, but you bite it and she gasps — keep it inside cause you’re about to suck it, then she loses it entirely. “you’re fuckin’ gonna make me fuckin’ cum” she whimpers, she says it like she's scared, like she's surprised or confused because heavens how could it be possible?

──★ knowing that you were about to make her cum untouched makes the coil in your stomach nearly snap. you're prideful now, but your pussy feels like it’s quivering so much you simply don't know and can't grasp on how to be cocky about it like she does. another praise escapes your lips, "love your dick s-s- so so much", and ellie growls, she feels depraved and sick, absolutely pussydrunk and on the verge of a heart attack. her rule, however, is that she cannot under any circumstance come before you do, so she speeds up. grabbing both of your cheeks with her hands, she squeezes them together and coos. "you're gonna cum for me" she commands, so your eyebrows furrow together and your eyes close shut. she's dominating you to the verge of tears, so when ellie tells you to cum, you will do as she says. "g, g- gonna cum, it’s, s'-so much" you warn, absolutely breathless, toes curling inside of your socks.

──★ you could call her delusional or crazy, but when you nearly reach your orgasm, she feels your walls hugging her tightly. fortunately for you, ellie is nothing but talkative. it may be odd, because she’s not much of a blabber mouth, but when she’s inside and you’re being fucked out on her strap, talking you through it is all she seems to wanna do. “can f-feel that little pussy hugging me, fuck, gonna give me a big one? pretty girl? give ellie a big one, c’mon”, she’s relentless with it, fast and chasing her own high, not knowing where to goddamn look — your eyes that scream “i love you” or your pussy that’s begging to be filled up some more, or maybe your lips that are covered with drool. she settles however, on your eyes. you nod profusely, “gonna give it to you… mhm” you hiccup, which ellie deems as nothing but so fuckin’ cute, to the point where she wants to break you in half just to hear that “cuteness” some more. when your eyes roll back to the top of your head, cunt filled to the brim — ellie swears something to herself. she’s gonna fuck you every day. if humanly possible, she would have fucked you all the time. so you give it to her, a real big one, one that leaves you paralyzed, not even moaning — sweet sticky mouth fully agape with a choked up scream of her name. she wants to warn you that she’s about to cum too, but you’re too quick to notice. “cum for me, ellie” you beg in that sweet voice of yours and she cums with a huge , lovey-dovey, cumdrunk smile plastered across on her face.

──★ when you’re done, she cleans you up with a wet towel and kisses you everywhere. then — “i picked up a new book and it has a bunch of pics of cool bugs, y’wanna see?”. you’re fucked and in love.

[angelltheninth]

If you're not tred of it already: lovesick Izuku, Bakugo, Shoto, Kirishima and Mirio?

I'm not tired of it, thank you for the ask!

Pairing: Izuku, Bakugo, Shoto, Kirishima, Mirio, x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, developing relationship, confessions, protectiveness, kissing, flirting, teasing

A/N: Any request that gives me the chance to write these guys being absolute smitten messes is a welcome request. So don't be shy.

Lovesick!Izuku can't stop writing about you in his notebook. You're just a girl in his class, not a pro hero, yet you occupy his every thought lately. He doesn't trust himself not to mess up when confessing to you in person, the way he has to do it is by leaving you a very detailed written love confession and leaving it at your desk. He got to class early to do this, but he forgot that you go to class early too. Caught in the act he has no choice but to give it to you in person. Steeling himself he waits for your rejection, only to get a kiss on his freckled cheek instead, and a reminder that he can always talk to you instead of... doing things like this, as cute as they are.

Lovesick!Bakugo is even more of a jerk then his usual self. The thing is he's not a jerk to you, he's a jerk to everyone around you. To you he's actually pretty tame. He doesn't ask to carry your bag, he just does it, you can either follow him or not. Okay, maybe he's still a bit of a jerk but he doesn't see it that way at all. Time alone gives him the chance to flirt with you, to tell you cute it is when you try so hard in class and how he loves it when you get something wrong because you get the cutest pout on your face. Given that he doesn't have the best grades why not study together, for this next test? Not at the library, at his room, it's more private there.

Lovesick!Shoto doesn't know how to handle these feelings he has. He knows what they are, he knows what his heart is telling him, that you're the one, the only girl for him. He knows this and yet when he talks to you he can feel his Quirk getting out of control, he needs to hold both hands behind his back to cancel it out while he confesses or else he's not gonna be able to. He get's so wrapped up in conversation with you that he doesn't realize it's time to go to a class meeting and is almost late, very unusual for him. That first kiss with you was like fireworks going off in his head, his lips too hot and tongue too cold, giving you a small taste of his duality.

Lovesick!Kirishima falls hard and falls fast, more then anyone else. The man was a tiny bit of a showoff before but now he only does it when you're around, impressing you with his strength, loving to make you laugh, even if he fails at something he doesn't mind as much anymore if you smile at his dumb mistake. He can learn from that, he an fix it, and he can never forget the sound of your laughter. When you go out to the city at night he always sticks close to you, making little detours to buy things to eat, or little matching keychains, since most clothes on him could end up in shreds. Surprisingly he's shy when it's time to kiss you, but this was what he was waiting for, he's not backing down. Bring it on. Give him the best you've got.

Lovesick!Mirio is head over heels in love with you and he's letting everyone know it. How could he hide such a wonderful feeling from the world, or you? Why would he even want to where there's so much for the two of you to share together? Those days when you visited him in the hospital were always the least painful, he wants to spend more time with you, he wants to hold you hand like you did his, he wants to turn every "get well soon" kiss into an "I love you" kiss and every post training time into a date with you. A girl like you needs to be treated well, and while he doesn't have much experience in the dating department he can always give it his best.