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lace-coffin · 5 months

Note

Hi! Can I ask how the slashers would feel if they ever accidentally hurt their s/o? Gender and everything is up to you!

How slashers would react to Accidently hurting their S/O

Thank you so much for my first ever request ah! I hope you enjoy 💖

Requests are open!

Warning for blood/injury - mild sexual content/reference to sexual activity and power dynamics -unhealthy relationships (I think?)

Reader is gender neutral!

Bubba sawyer

Most likely happened via bubba playing to hard and Accidently pushing you over or squeezing you to hard. If it’s a case of them mistaking you for a victim and catching you with their chainsaw before stopping they’ll be even more in inconsolable.

Stops and stares for a minute to process what’s happened before devolving into full blown panic

She’ll drop whatever she’s doing to carry you back to the house, even if that means letting the victim escape and having Drayton yell at her.

Will hurriedly explain in rushed sign to either choptop or nubbins to go take care of the victim as he’s busy caring for you

Checks you over frantically. Please explain you’re going to be ok and help them calm down.

Once he knows you’re not in any danger he’ll feel absolutely awful about it and whine apologies to you even if you tell him it’s ok and it wasn’t their fault

Please comfort them once you feel better and reassure them.

Will insist you come up with a verbal and nonverbal sign to give if they’re Accidently messing around to hard.

Will make you agree to stay in the house out of the way when victims are around so you don’t Accidently get hurt again.

Thomas Hewitt

After another night of Hoyt berating him for things out of his control Tommy storms off to the basement to cool off. You follow him wanting to comfort him. You touch him despite him not liking physical touch without warning thinking it might help and he grabs your wrist a little to hard and you wince.

He snatches his hand back as soon as he realises what he’s done

Tommy will bring you to Luda may to have her check you over and assess the damage

Once he knows you’re safe he’ll confine himself to the basement for a few days, only coming out to eat but even then it’s tense

He’s truly sorry and feels like all those people who called him a monster and an animal were right, he hurt the one he cares about most after all

After a few days apart, a lot of hushed words of affirmation and kisses/nose bumps he’ll feel comfortable being with you again

You know to let him cool off by himself and come to you when he’s ready after a heated argument now.

Michale Myers

You jump out At Michael thinking it would be funny to catch the shape off guard for once and not the other way around. Unfortunately this backfires and he swings his knife at you, thinking it may be an intruder since you’ve never pulled something like this before. You manage to jolt out of the way but the knife still catches you in the shoulder. Thankfully it’s only superficial and will heal but it still looks like it needs medical attention.

Initially Michael looks at you unamused, granted it’s hard to tell what he’s feeling under the mask. He gives you a kind of “well If you weren’t being dumb this wouldn’t have happened” attitude. However this is a front for the actual panic he refuses to show on the surface.

Having a few cuts and scratches isn’t super uncommon when your with Michael considering his tastes involving knives in bed 😌

Usually hurting others comes naturally and without remorse to Michael and it shakes him that he’s actively worrying about your wellbeing.

It disturbs him that he actually cares about someone enough to feel remorse for his actions.

After unceremoniously pulling your shirt off and looking the wound over he makes you go to A&E

Since he’s basically an escaped criminal he can’t casually walk in the hospital with you, however he will stalk you the entire time, lurking not far behind to make sure you arrive and leave safely.

Although he usually has his guard up he vows to try be a little less bristly with you from now on if it means he doesn’t have to see you hurt and feel that awful tug of regret/worry in his chest.

Jason voorhees

You went out looking for Jason one night after he hadn’t returned to the cabin by his usual time. You were worried he’d been overpowered by a group of trespassers and didn’t have any way to communicate that to you since the woods is so vast.

Whilst looking for him you get your leg caught in a bear trap he had set for the trespassers. You howl in pain as you hear the sickening snap of your ankle between the traps jaws.

Jason was on his way back to the cabin when he heard this. Knowing that wasn’t a trespasser as he’d already cleared them out alarm bells went off in his head. He stormed to scene as fast as he could.

He could have sworn his undead heart stopped for the second time as he saw you sitting there in agony, murky blood seeping into the forest floor.

He rushes to your side and looks frantically between the trap and your teary face, he knows he’s going to have to disengage the traps and for you it’s going to be..not so pleasent.

He signs for you to grip onto his arm as he’s doing it. Since he’s already dead and regenerates he feels it’s the least he can do to let you grip his arm for dear life as he wrenches the trap from your shattered ankle. If you cause any damage to his arm (which is very unlikely) it will heal up in no time anyway.

Once he’s carried you back to the cabin he’ll be frantically following Pamela’s directions in his head for what to do and how to clean/ wrap it.

If the damage is extensive he’ll relent and let you go to the hospital, only if a trusted friend takes you though and he’ll be sitting by the window your shared cabin every minute until you return back to him.

Your no longer aloud to be out in the woods after dark alone it he’s set traps. You both carry whistles now so if he’s not home and you need to know he’s safe you can whistle to each other.

Billy Lenz

Interacting with Billy when he’s having an episode is never a good idea. You thought it would be ok to just he in the room though. As you enter Billy is in the midst of trashing his attic once again, the disgusting feelings bubbling in his chest to much to bear. You enter just as he’s thrown an old glass christmas ornament at the floor that the sorority had kept in storage in the attic. It shatters and flecks of glass scatter along the floor. One piece catching you in the hand in a nasty glass splinter. You swear under your breath and rush of to take care of it.

Billy doesn’t even realised what’s happened until you return to him after he’s exhausted himself. You bring him a sandwich and juice knowing he’ll need it after all the energy and tears he just used up.

As his hand touches yours whilst accepting the plate he noticed the bandage.

Billy essentially bristles up like an angry cat at the idea of someone hurting his piggy and demands to know who did it and what happened.

Once you tell him it was actually from the ornament he feels horrible. He doesn’t even remember it happening in the state he was in.

He snuggles into the crook of your neck and mumbles apologies into your skin.

Billy will place sloppy kisses over it as an apology until you forgive him. (Not exactly hygenic since it’s an open wound but i mean…you’re dating the attic rat)

Brahms Heelshire

When living with Brahms there isn’t usually much to injure yourself on considering the estate is fairly out of the way from the rest of the village. You most likely caught yourself on a pair of sheers. Brahms is being stubborn about you being out of the house and slings the sheers in your general direction from the door frame when you ask for them. You don’t even notice you caught your hand when catching them until you see a patch of blood on your gardening gloves about ten minutes later.

You come in to grab a tea towel to wrap your bleeding finger in, not really fazed as it’s only a small cut. Brahms was lurking from the window as you tended to the hedges, not wanting to be away from you but not yet brave enough to tempt leaving the house he’s been in all these years.

As soon as he sees it he’s panicking, it’s only a little cut and you’re not concerned but to Brahms you may as well have just came in with an arm missing. He’s instantly flittering around you asking if your ok and if your need a hospital.

You stifle your laugh at his over the top concern because you find it rather sweet, it’s not his fault he’s a little sheltered.

After cleaning the cut and bandaging it it’s totally fine. If anything Brahms needs more reassuring and coddling than you do to get him to settle.

He apologises a thousand times for his attitude because he knows If he hadn’t been stroppy about you leaving the house and passed the sheers nicely then you wouldn’t have been hurt in the first place. He promises to try be more composed when he starts getting antsy.

He may need some ✨punishment✨ in order to encourage his behaviour change and to feel forgiven 👀

He begrudgingly lets you back outside to garden after about a week.

Asa Emory

If you’re the pet of Asa then it’s likely most of your injuries are purposefully given from him and are no mistake. You’re poked and prodded often at your place in the collection. Wounds from experiments and correctional punishments when you disobey or refuse to submit are not uncommon at all. So it doesn’t bother him since he inflicted them. This also assures he cleans them with clinical precision. If you were anyone else in his collection he would leave the wounds to fester and if you died from a complication then that was just inconvenient. Not you though, you’ve caught his attention and heart. He loves you in his own domineering way.

If the wound was created by him and an accident he would give himself a hard time.

For example if he had more trouble with law enforcement than he thought he would and that led to you to spending way more time in the trunk than you usually do. You develop a sore from sitting in one cramped position for so long.

Asa would realise your hurt once you’re let out of the trunk and hiss in pain as you stretch. He makes you show him where it is so he can inspect it.

Despite Asa’s stony face his stomach is actively sinking. He knows your hurt because of him and it want even on purpose. He sees this as fault in his care of his pet and a blow to his god complex due to making mistakes. Gods don’t make mistakes.

He’ll make sure to clean it for you and even stop putting you in the trunk for a while. This does still mean you’ll be attached to him via leash or chain connected to the ring sitting on his hips where he keeps his keys. Just because your hurt and his favourite doesn’t mean he will except anything less than your complete and total submission.

He’ll be more tender and soft handed with you than usual to a while after. Punishments will be withheld until you heal. Then it is back to normal as expected.

Predator/yautja

You were wearing a new perfume you’d picked up at the market. You were only supposed to be getting meats and maybe a new fur for the bed but once the alien at the stand had convinced you to sample it you fell in love with it.

Your mate picks up on an unknown scent entering the house and stalks towards it. As soon as they catch the heat signature they throw a wrist blade in warning.

Their eyes widen and they rush to the door as they smell your tangly blood hit the floor of your house on yautja prime.

The new perfume hid your familiar scent from them and made them believe the house was being intruded on. If their face could loose colour it would as they see the wrist blade sticking through your palm, groceries discarded at the door.

They start talking at you in rapid clicks before they realise you can’t understand. After making sure to keep the object in your hand so it doesn’t bleed more and that your not going to pass out they insist on carrying you their medic instead of finding a human one.

They argue that their medicine is far more advanced and will heal your wound much more efficiently then your “ primitive ooman medicine”

Thanks to yautja medicine being far more advanced the wound is stitched shut and you’re given some kind of injection. It will heal like nothing ever happened in around two weeks.

Your mate purrs and clicks for you deep from their chest the entire time you’re having the blade removed to try calm you.

They beg for forgiveness despite it being an accident and will need reassurance that they haven’t failed you as a mate. Once you’re healed they’ll bring back an impressive skull from a hunt as an apology even if you’ve already forgiven them.

Whilst it’s healing you’re probably going be kept in the nest of furs and pulled against them whilst they purr and sooth you.

My requests are open if you’d like to send any prompts or ideas for me to write!

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whaddayadothatfor · 11 months

Text

Ctenizidae

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re an anomaly from another universe. You’re not dangerous though, so Miguel’s made the executive decision to keep you around until more dangerous criminals are caught and sent home first. Unless that’s not the only reason he’s decided to keep you around…

Content warnings: dub-con, voyeurism, masturbation, obsessive!Miguel

WC: ~1k

AN: Y’all this is so unedited but I wanted to write smut for this man so I did! If y’all like it I can post a second, smuttier part.

MDNI

“Here.” You drop a small plastic bin of chocolate chip cookies in front of Miguel. As a peace offering. No, really.

Miguel raises his right eyebrow in question. He doesn’t even answer you anymore. The other Spider-people go about their day in the cafeteria, having seen this scene time and time again.

Every day for the past two weeks since you were suddenly teleported to Nueva York and promptly labeled an anomaly, you’ve been practically begging Miguel to send you home. He’s declined every time.

This is pretty much how the conversation goes each time:

“Miguel, I think I should—“

“No. We have to send the most dangerous anomalies back to their universe first—“

“I’m dangerous! I’m plenty dangerous.”

“The only thing you’ve maimed, tortured, and killed in the past month is a flippin’ houseplant. You’re staying.”

You see how frustrating this man is?

So you’ve decided that maybe bribery— sorry, a peace offering— will work better. Hence, the cookies.

“Maybe if you eat something sweet you’ll stop being so bitter and stubborn all the time,” you smile tightly. “Then you’ll find it in your heart— the one that shrunk three sizes— to let me go home.”

“I appreciate the offering— though you could use some more creativity in your approach— but just know that these won’t get you home.” He pries open the container and lifts one to his mouth before moaning in delight. “These are delicious. Thank you,” he said, sucking the melted chocolate off of his thumb. His overly enthusiastic groans were clearly a tactic to piss you off, and it worked.

You simmer in anger as he smirks while chewing his cookie. You try to snatch the bin back, but he moves it out of your way.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he says, pushing up from the small table he was sitting at and leaning down to whisper near your ear. “No take-backsies.”

He flustered you, and he knew it. He laughed as he walked away. You stuttered a retort in embarrassment, but he didn’t even have the decency to turn around.

“Ugh, I hate that guy,” you stomped in anger. You muttered several curses before you turned around to leave, only to see several wide-eyed Spideys staring at you in concern. This is why you wait until after you’re alone to throw a tantrum— it scares the locals. Whoops. “Uhh, carry on. My bad. Enjoy your lunch!”

You quickly walk away, feeling defeated. But it doesn’t matter, you’ve got nothing but time. You’ll catch him when he’s sleeping. He’s gotta be more amenable then.

Later

“You know, just for the record, I think you going to his room this late at night is a terrible idea,” Lyla warned as she flitted between standing and reclining with her arms crossed behind her neck.

“Well I think him keeping me here is a terrible idea. I guess we’re all full of them.”

“Seriously—“

“Lyla I don’t care! I’ve got a family to get back to. Friends, a life. I don’t care how fine that man is, I’m going back home. Tonight, preferably.”

“Whatever, it’s your funeral.” She acquiesced before disappearing into the ether, just as you arrived at his door.

“Wait, Lyla! Open the door.” Without a response, the door opened. “Thanks, Lyla.”

You walked in to the large room to see Miguel sitting up in a chair near the center of the room.

“Miguel, you need to listen to me—“

The sight that met you was so shocking you had to take it in one part at a time.

First, You see Miguel’s side profile as he faces the wall to the left of you. He’s breathing heavy, chest heaving as his hand vigorously moves up and down his— oh. Maybe you came at the wrong time.

With the sudden awkwardness that’s overtaken you, you look somewhere else, anywhere else, only to find the source of what he’s staring at— a video, no, porn. The second piece of the puzzle, you take in the video’s content. First, you just see flashes of skin and hear soft grunts and moans emanating from the screen. But then you realize, the voices sound familiar, really familiar. Then it hits you.

It is you.

And him. The both of you together. And that realization connects all the pieces of the puzzle together. He’s keeping you here, on purpose.

Your eyes dart back to Miguel, who has now abandoned his video in favor of the live view he has right in front of him. He’s shirtless but he still has some grey sweats on, pushed down just enough that he can jerk off. His hands move desperately over his cock, aborted grunts and breathy moans coming out sporadically.

He turned his head to the side, his cheeks flushed and his eyes narrowed with desire. You were frozen, stuck in time. Miguel kept stroking his cock while staring into your eyes. He did this right up until his orgasm overtook him, throwing his head back and jerking his hips upward as he called out your name.

His cum spurted out in waves, once, twice, three times. It was thick and opaque and made a mess all over his lower stomach. He sighed and sank back into his chair.

“Did you enjoy the show?” His voice is low and heady as he calls out to you. It takes you a moment to respond, because admittedly you’re still staring at his— well, his everything, dick included. Still It was a very, very nice, thick, veiny d—“Am I interrupting?”

His teasing knocks you out of your reverie.

“I-I should go.” You said. You’re starting to realize that Lyla might have been right. Maybe you should’ve waited until the morning. You start backing up to leave but Miguel shakes his head and the door shuts behind him.

“No, no, no. See, that’s your problem. You’re always trying to leave,” he chastises.

He stalks towards you, like you’re prey. You move backwards until your back hits the door. He reaches over you, placing an arm over your head and his index finger under your chin, lifting it upwards. He bends down, close enough that you can see even minute details of his face.

He narrows his eyes as he bares his fangs.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

#marvel x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #marvel smut #across the spiderverse #spider man 2099 #spider man smut #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #oscar isaac smut #y/n

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navybrat817 · 6 months

Note

How does Bucky handle you being sick? 🥺

I may have gone overboard, nonnie. 😂

Sick Day

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky takes care of you when you get a cold. He also takes care of the guy who may have given you a cold.

Word Count: Over 2.4k

Warnings: Fluff, humor, established relationship, reader has a cold, implied smut, interrogation, Bucky Barnes being a ridiculously wonderful boyfriend in love (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I don't know where this came from. Maybe a bit of inspiration from @inklore here. 😂❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

When you had a hard time getting out of bed this morning due to a cold you caught at work, you tried to brush it off. Bucky immediately called in to take a personal day and said he had to take care of you, which forced you to take a sick day as well. It was for the best. You had a tendency to push yourself past your limit some days and he kept you in check.

You snatched a tissue out of the box beside you just in time to sneeze into it. With a pained groan, you scrunched up your face and dropped the tissue into the small pile in your lap. It took you a moment to sip your water, followed by your herbal tea. Though your throat was sore, you had to stay hydrated. You also had to get some rest.

Bucky wouldn’t let you hear the end of it if you didn’t.

“I hate this,” you mumbled to yourself before your boyfriend rushed into the living room to check on you, his piercing eyes searching the room as if to assess a threat.

“I heard you talking, baby. You need to rest your voice,” he said, adjusting the humidifier he set on the coffee table before his concerned gaze snapped back to you. “Wait. Do you need something? Do you not have enough blankets? I can get you more tea. Or I can put something on TV. Shit, where’s the writing pad?”

You tried not to smile as the massive shirtless supersoldier bustled around the room. He hadn’t seen you under the weather since the two of you started dating and you should’ve known he’d make a big deal out of it. Whether it had to do with growing up with Steve who dealt with all sorts of ailments or simply because it was his girlfriend feeling less than stellar, you weren’t sure. Either way, it was endearing to see the former Winter Soldier worked up over you.

He had nothing to worry about though.

“I’m fine,” you croaked before you went into a coughing fit.

Bucky’s eyes widened as he crouched beside you and brought the water back to your lips once you had yourself under control. His brows furrowed when he checked your forehead with his right hand, which made you fall in love with him a little more. You tried to tell him earlier to keep his distance so he didn’t get sick before he gently reminded you that he wasn’t exactly prone to catching colds thanks to the serum.

A silver lining from the pain he had to go through.

“You’re not fine. You’re sick. Well, you’re still 'fine',” he smiled a little, making your heart swell. “I used that in the right context, didn’t I?”

You almost went into another coughing fit as you giggled, the sound huskier and deeper than normal. “Only you would think I’m fine when I’m like this,” you said, reaching up to run your fingers through his silky chestnut hair. He hadn’t brushed it today. Too busy taking care of you. “And I’m not ‘sick’ sick. it’s just a cold.”

“It isn’t just a cold. Not to me,” he said, his jaw clenching as his vibranium fingers curled.

“I’ll be better before you know it,” you assured him, raising an eyebrow as his cheek twitched. “What’s the matter?”

Why is he getting himself worked up?

“I just don’t like you feeling any kind of pain,” he said, leaning up so he could press his lips to your forehead. He huffed as they lingered there. “I wish I could take it away and I can’t.”

It was a sweet sentiment, especially after everything he went through.

“I know you would if you could and it’s okay that you can’t,” you said. You understood where he was coming from though because you didn’t like the idea of him in pain either. He had a heart almost as large as his body and you were lucky to get a single ounce of his love. “Don’t worry, okay?”

“You’re my girl and it's impossible not to worry,” he said, a touch of possession and tenderness seeping into his tone. Belonging to him was as natural as breathing. “But I'll try to relax a bit.”

“As long as you try,” you said as he pressed another kiss to your forehead.

Your head tingled from his lips before you frowned. This close, you could usually get a whiff of his woodsy cologne. Your eyes welled up when you inhaled again and couldn’t smell him, doing your best to blink the tears away so he wouldn't catch them. It was silly that you suddenly missed the comfort of that smell because your nose was acting up.

He didn’t need your tears on top of that.

But, of course, he caught your sad sniffle, which sounded slightly different from your cold sniffle. His body stiffened, like a cobra ready to strike. “Tell me what’s wrong, even if I can’t physically fix it.”

God, I love this man.

“I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but I really miss the smell of your cologne,” you told him, your gaze probably nothing short of pathetic as you tilted your head to see his handsome face.

Your breath caught when he looked back at you and brushed a tear away with his thumb. There was nothing but love and adoration in those brilliant eyes of his. It made you feel lighter.

“That’s far from ridiculous because I smell amazing,” he teased, bumping his nose against yours to bring a smile to your face. “How about I spray the blankets after you take a nap and I make you some soup? That way my scent will be there even if you can't smell it.”

Tears clogged your throat as you gave him a nod, committing the moment to memory. You were used to going it alone before he came into your life. He couldn’t take the pain away, but he could make you feel better in ways that mattered to you. That likely comforted him just as much as it soothed you.

“That would be great,” you said, yawning a bit. “Can we watch a movie after my nap?”

“We'll watch whatever you want.”

You pulled him close so he could join you on the couch, knowing that his muscular and warm frame against yours would feel just as comforting and safe as the blanket that covered you. And he relaxed and quickly accepted your wordless invitation to wrap his arms around you, keeping you in his loving embrace. It was home and always would be.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you said, closing your eyes as you nuzzled your head against his bare chest. “I love you.”

“I’ll always take care of you,” he promised, his vibranium hand moving in slow circles along your back as you began to drift off. “I love you, too.”

You let out a happy moan before you said one more thing. “And hunt down the person who gave me this cold, okay?”

With your eyes shut, you didn’t see the determination written all over his face. “You got it, baby.”

You were right as rain and back to work a couple of days later, thanks to Bucky caring for you and some much needed rest. Not even an hour into your shift though, Steve requested for you to meet him in the second lower level. You didn't hide your surprise as that was usually reserved for interrogations.

Which was exactly why he called you down there.

“What's going on?” You asked as you walked into the viewing room. Steve, Sam, Natasha, and Tony all looked your way, but didn't give you any sort of response. “Seriously, what's up?”

“You don't know?” Natasha responded, nodding toward the glass.

You followed her gaze with a gasp as you saw Bucky tower over some blonde male agent in the cell. Your boyfriend was almost unrecognizable with his face devoid of any emotion, dominant and on the edge of terrifying. It was a far cry from the loving side you were privy to, yet you loved this side of him just the same.

“Buck dragged John down here a few minutes ago,” Steve explained in a quiet voice as he punched the bridge of his nose. “Said something about him hurting you.”

You tilted your head as you looked at John, recognizing him after a second due to his punchable face. “Him? No. He didn't hurt me. He just bumped into me the other day in the break room,” you explained. Which wasn't that big of a deal to you, but probably offensive to Bucky. “But he didn't apologize.”

He also had a cold.

Oh, no.

“So, you had nothing to do with this?” Sam asked, chuckling as you lifted your chin.

“No, I didn't,” you replied as you bit your lip. “At least, I don't think I had anything to do with this.”

Your heart raced faster when Bucky pushed the sleeves of his shirt up and gripped John by the collar, the veins in his right arm popping out. You wished you could lick them. Maybe later.

“I know it was you, you piece of shit,” he said, roughly shoving the agent back into his chair. “You got my girl sick.”

Oh, Bucky.

You stared straight ahead as you felt the group collectively look your way, refusing to react under their stares. “Before any of you say another word, this is definitely not my fault,” you stated.

“Of course it isn't,” Natasha smirked. She knew Bucky loved to play the hero on your behalf even though you could take care of yourself. “Just enjoy the show.”

Your mouth fell open as your boyfriend slammed his left fist on the table, leaving a sizable dent as John nearly fell backwards in his chair. This guy was an agent? He was either new to interrogations or simply scared shitless of the former assassin.

Maybe both.

But you ignored him as you shifted your attention back to your beefy, perfect boyfriend.

When you had mumbled for him to find the person who gave you the cold, you didn’t think he’d actually do it. You weren’t sure how he narrowed down to John, but the former assassin was resourceful and you should've known he'd take you seriously. And, fuck, if it wasn’t slightly mortifying on your behalf and hot as hell watching him in action.

“That cold you gave her made her cry. You made my girl cry. Do you know what I do to guys like you who make my girl cry?” Bucky said through his teeth, bringing his fist down on the table again as John flinched and you smiled. With all the strength he possessed, you never had to worry that he'd hurt you. But you couldn't say the same for the frightened agent. “You're about to find out.”

You didn't think you could love Bucky more after he helped you get over your cold, but he proved you wrong.

And you could now add Bucky threatening people to your list of things that made you dreamily sigh and tingle between your thighs.

“Look, I'm sorry. I’m sorry! All I did was bump into her. It was an accident!” John shouted, putting his hands up in surrender and trembling when Bucky stood to his full height and cracked his neck. Your boyfriend waited a beat before he grabbed one of his hands and began to twist, making the agent pale as you bit back a whimper. “Fuck, stop! I won’t even breathe around her again. I’ll hold my breath! Just let me go!”

“You're enjoying this, aren't you?” Tony asked you, taking out his phone to type a quick message as you hummed. Maybe you were enjoying it. How many guys went out of their way to scare someone who possibly gave you a cold? “Does the Manchurian Candidate know how much I’ll have to pay to keep this guy from suing him?”

“We can tell him it was a prank?” Steve suggested, bringing another laugh out of Sam as Natasha shook her head.

Bucky's eyes narrowed as he flung the hand away, his hair falling in his eyes as you held your breath. He looked like a wild animal, untamed and stunning. “I should choke you. Make you see how long you can really hold your breath before you pass out,” he snarled as John rubbed his sore skin.

Steve snuck a glance at you, his cheeks a little pink when you put a hand to your throat. “I don't want to overstep because you're my best friend's girl, but you do know you just moaned, right?” He whispered low enough for only you to hear.

Oops.

“Oh, my god,” you groaned, putting your warm face in your hands to hide your embarrassment for a moment. “Is anyone going to stop him?!”

“Why haven’t you stopped him?” Natasha countered knowingly.

Because I’m too busy thinking of how I’m going to suck his dick so good later that I'll make him see God.

You took a breath as the ache between your legs got stronger and pressed the button beside the glass. “Bucky?”

He swung his head toward the glass and met your gaze even though he couldn’t see you. No matter what, he’d always be able to spot you. “Hey, baby. I found the prick who gave you a cold. Want me to beat the shit out of him?” he bragged as John paled.

“I love you,” you giggled from how sweet and ridiculous he was. “And no. I appreciate you defending me, but I think you can let him go.”

Tony playfully rolled his eyes when Bucky grinned. “Your crazy matches his crazy.”

True.

“Okay. I love you, too,” Bucky said in a light tone, his smile falling the second he looked back at John and smacked the table against the wall with a clang. The agent looked like he was on the verge of passing out. “Next time you see my girl, apologize and walk away. And the next time you have a cold, stay the fuck home or you'll answer to me.”

Yeah. I’m going to suck the soul from his body to thank him for everything the moment we get home.

And maybe the two of you could take another sick day to spend the day in bed.

Totally normal boyfriend, right? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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cordeliawhohung · 29 days

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ghoap x reader pet!au where simon keeps johnny as a pet, but can't keep up with his high sex drive and antics. in order to satiate him, simon decides to go looking for another pet to keep the silly pup entertained. sort of an introductory work bound to become a series of one shots like my mafia!au

cw: simon is a freak, non-con photography, a little dark content, nsfw, slight bdsm dynamics, owner/pet dynamics

Simon wasn’t a photographer, not a good one anyway, but he wasn’t to blame. His large hands were better fit for shredding meat than creating art, but he figured all art was good when the muses were beautiful.

He had been on the hunt for nearly three hours by that point, wandering throughout the city where the population was thickest. Armed with nothing but his phone, Simon captured photos of various specimens that meandered throughout the streets as they went about their lives. There were roughly twenty pictures he had saved in his gallery of unsuspecting women he figured would be Johnny’s type. Pretty blondes in flowery dresses, alluring doe eyes looking out at the streets; he stole photos of any soft and sweet thing that he figured Johnny would have fun sinking his teeth into.

A black mask and dark clothes wasn’t the most unsuspecting thing for him to wear on such an outing, yet it was to his advantage at the same time. Several women had caught the slight glint of the camera lens on his phone as he stole eternal glimpses of them. Many of them had even opened their mouths to protest his intrusion, until they looked at him, anyway. Not many people had the bravery or fortitude needed to stand up to a creature as wild and brutish as him. Their mouths shut with such promptness he nearly chuckled at how bashful they were.

Hunting got more difficult as the sky grew darker. Fresh meat hid behind locked doors that Simon could have easily torn down if he had so desired, but that wasn’t the time. As the lights started to illuminate the street, he dived down into the depths underneath London where tunnels spanned for miles, spider-webbing just below the skin of the city. The stench underground grew more acrid the further he pushed and Simon couldn’t help but huff at it. This was why he enjoyed living out of town, off in some secluded home nestled in the cold embrace of trees and lavish fields.

Made it harder for his pet to wander off, too.

The sharp clicking of heels caught his attention as he waited just beyond the yellow line on the platform. Dark eyes flickered to the newest prey that approached, and Simon found himself drinking in the sight of her. Proper clothes covered her body with a simple blouse and a pencil skirt. Dark tights covered the expanse of her legs with its sheer fabric where it was beautifully topped off by a classic pair of heels. The sway of her hips was dramatized by the steps she traversed, her pace slow and careful lest she roll an ankle walking in those heels.

She was dressed professionally, and if Simon had to guess it was for an interview. By the look on her face, it didn’t go very well. Distracted eyes stared down at the phone in her hand as her lips pressed into a frown. Anxious fingers tapped away as she typed out a message to someone — perhaps a lover? Someone would be crazy not to snatch up a specimen such as that — as she stepped down onto the platform.

Before she could get too close, Simon quickly dug his phone out before stealing a photo of her. He had gotten so used to the motions he didn’t even have to think about it; not that it was difficult anyway. With her attention still focused elsewhere, he found he was able to snap a few more before she finally put her phone into her bag and began to pay mind to where she walked. She continued further into the platform, well past Simon, and vanished into the crowd as if she had never been there at all.

Cute.

It didn’t take long for the tube to take Simon to his stop, and it was even shorter before he seated himself in his car to head back home. The drive itself was the longest part of everything. Annoying traffic, bad drivers; he didn’t feel like he could untense his body until he approached the familiar sight of home. The old and dilapidated building wasn’t much more than an heirloom passed down in the Riley family, but it had quickly become his sanctuary. Seclusion meant he was safe. Seclusion meant he could love in peace.

Warm lights poured through the sheer curtains that covered the windows and were only disturbed by a figure pacing around just beyond them. Simon’s car died off with a sputter as he pocketed his keys before approaching the door. A thick deadbolt kept the house latched tight and secure, though he was confident Johnny knew better than to attempt to dash out by that point. Especially not that day when he had the prospect of such a good treat.

Johnny was there to greet him at the door with a toothy grin, and the damn pup nearly knocked Simon over as he bounded up to him. His hands pawed at Simon’s chest as if he couldn’t get enough of him, and he didn’t calm down until the man grabbed hold of the collar around his throat. Blue eyes widened as he looked up at his owner, lips twitching with all the words he wanted to exclaim.

“Down,” Simon warned.

“Did ya get the pictures? Like you said you would?” Johnny questioned, his body still unable to retain his buzzing excitement.

Instead of answering him verbally, Simon gave a sharp tug on his collar before directing him further into the house. Ancient wood floorboards creaked underneath their weight as they entered the living room. It was devoid of all decor, unless cracks in the paint could be considered art. A rusted lamp was the sole source of light in the room, and the only thing even worth looking at was the glorious stone fireplace that sat against the far wall, but it was much too warm out to light.

Simon pulled Johnny down onto the old sofa next to him, and the man instantly burrowed into his side, eagerly waiting to see the pretty pups. The phone screen illuminated both of their faces in sync as it blossomed to life, and Johnny almost salivated at just the prospect of what he would see. It didn’t take Simon long to pull up his gallery, and he scrolled to the first photos he had taken that day before angling it so that his excited pup could see it too. Twitching fingers reached out to swipe along the screen, and Simon watched as Johnny’s eyes dilated at every piece of meat he looked at. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he shifted on the couch, and all it took was a simple glance to see how worked up the poor pup was. A hardened bulge strained against the zipper of his jeans, and a groan reverberated in his throat as he continued to swipe through the countless choices put in front of him.

“Si, they’re all so beautiful. Can’t I have them all?” Johnny whined.

“Only one,” Simon countered.

“I’ll be good,” Johnny said with a pout.

“Just one, Johnny,” Simon repeated, voice more firm.

Sighing, he continued to swipe through Simon’s phone as his eyes glossed over beautiful legs and delicious hips. It had been so long since he had last seen a woman it was nearly impossible to hold himself back. His body craved them in a way he couldn’t put into words, and he felt like the only thing that would offer him solace would be to burst out of his skin.

His restless buzzing suddenly ceased when he caught sight of the last group of photos in the gallery. A beautiful woman had him utterly transfixed as she appeared to have descended down a long set of concrete steps. There was something about the troubled look on her face that had his mouth watering. Like he knew he would be able to fix it. Like he could bully the worry out of her with his cock alone.

“This one,” Johnny said, his decision definite as he held the phone up for Simon to see. “I want this one.”

#ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #dark content #f!reader

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chocsra · 28 days

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✧ STORMBRINGER CHUUYA AS YOUR GUY BSF IS ....

✧ w/c: 588 ✧ content: drabbles & headcanons of cute things with stormbringer! chuuya

☆ a shocked yet distasteful groan pulling from his throat when you show him a picture of a celebrity you find cute, grumbling about how your taste in men sucks ass. you didn't think he was jealous, just shocked at the creature he was looking at. though sometimes, you barely graze the envy on his face when you actually interact with another boy; especially if he's your type, because chuuya knows. still, he brushes your friendly smile with stupidity—because the dude you're talking with 'isn't even all that.'

☆ like having an annoyed caretaker, always keeping an eye out for you, rebuking your recklessness. just appalled that you have this much carelessness for your life on a day to day basis. but even though he'd scold you gently for anything stupid or clumsy you pull, you'd always find a gloved hand reaching out to you, providing support. either when you've stumbled, or you're about to jump off a ledge from even the smallest of heights.

☆ falling face first into the ground whilst trying to fight off one of the port mafia's powerful enemies because your shoelaces were untied. humilated, you found yourself sitting on a bench as chuuya unashamedly scolds you for your rookie mistake. knelt down as he still ties your shoes. "do you double knot your laces?" he'll ask, if you already said yes, the boy would finish one shoe with a tight squeeze, before gently patting your ankle to lace the other one, "well you better start triple knottin' em!"

☆ late night calls about the silliest things. chuuya would have his camera on in his pajamas, either mindlessly fiddling with his guitar, doing some chores, or cooking simply out of boredom. he'd rant about his day, the jewel marketing circulation, this crazy fuck named 'dazai', how much he admires his superior—kouyou, and his friends which call themselves 'the flags'. in return, you can tell him all the school gossip you've picked up on, new music you caught onto, your rants in your notes app.

☆ exchanging knowing side glances at each other when someone's being annoying or a dumb fuck. it's the kind of look two sassy girls would stare at each other with a secret disdain for the person in front of them.

☆ chuuya keeping a hair tie on his wrist for you and him only. at first, it was extra incase he lost his own hair tie, but soon, if you ever needed one, he always keeps extra on his wrist so you wouldn't have messy hair flying everywhere.

☆ taking unwanted photos of chuuya while he chases after you to delete them. sometimes, it'd be mid sneeze or the boy yawning carelessly. he definitely cares once you've did a close up shot where he looks like the epitome of a ginger leprechaun. he'd (try to) snatch your phone and now gives you the stinkiest side eye when you even try to point your phone at him.

☆ unconsciously resting an arm behind your shoulders when you're both sitting side by side. for chuuya, it provides a comforting stretch for his arms, and it feels safer knowing that he can just manuver you if there was ever an unexpected attack. for you, the fact that he just does it so casually makes you a nervous wreck.

☆ believing wholeheartedly that he's human. afterall, you wouldn't feel this much adoration for a code of strings, no? you always internally chide him if he thinks otherwise, but as friends, you thought it's better to give him a comforting pat on the back.

✧ chocsra™

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hoshigray · 9 months

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hii love ur works 🫶🏽

can I req brat reader giving toji the WORST attitude? 💗.

*sinister laugh* Why, yes, you can, noonie! When I saw this, the first scenario that came to mind was the reader being another assassin who likes to get on Toji's nerves. So, imma stick with that!! Had to take an all-nighter to finish this up, hehe~ (no fr tho, it's 8:35 in the morning here) Thank you for loving my stuff, and enjoy~~

A/n: posting this bc I'm staling on my Geto fic since my brain has so much it wants to add...sigh. In the meantime, while I'm working on this, I figured I could drop this as an apology for pulling the fic back (~_~;) My apologies, and I hope y'all like this one! Also tysm for 1.7k followers!! Y'all are too kind and sweet, happy to be writing for you~☆ Cw: hard dom! Toji x bratty fem! reader - you and Toji are assassins on a mission together - explicit content; minors DNI - implied age gap (the reader is at least in their 20s; Toji in his mid-30s or approaching 40s, up to you) - fingering (f! receiving) - cunnilingus - sexual acts in a public place - degradation (brat, crybaby, slut, whore) - Daddy kink - reader talking smack, but Toji teaches you a lesson - tiny praise - pussydrunk! Toji - pet names (baby, doll, princess) - ends with penetration, but mostly Toji eating you out - unprotected sex (PSA: wrap it up, or get the fuck up) - overstimulation - clitoral play (pinching, pushing, and sucking) - mentions of blood. Wc: 1.8k

You recently joined the hitmen field not too long ago. Still young and new to the workforce, it wasn't the first place you figured to enter for some quick cash. But with your astute skills and abilities, no other occupation best suited you. Besides, it wasn't long before people looked past your recent addition and saw what you were made of. Not only were you good at your job, but you were climbing the ranks, swifting past your inferior subordinates.

It's nothing new, though. You were always good at what you do, better than others at what you do. Doing everything perfectly and effortlessly, that was your style. And everybody knew that.

Everybody but a particular individual. A specific man who always overshadowed you. An older man who snatched your attention the first moment he looked your way, the scar on his lip rooted up with the twinge of his lips.

"Rookies lookin' real cute these days, huh, doll?" were his first words to you. And from that day on, you did what you could to get close to him. Even if that meant irritating him.

From taking his missions to acting as a complete thorn in his side, you do whatever it takes to get Toji's attention. Especially his silent pissed off expressions, which are your favorite to see. And don't let your handler tell you that you two would be on a mission together because the teasing would be endless for the poor, experienced hitman.

Just like today, when you two are deployed to kill an old geezer and his goons for a massive sum of money, Toji goes to one side of the old warehouse to thin out the number of bodyguards and heads straight to the target's den, leaving you to the rest. But imagine his surprise when he sees the old man already dead on the chair at his desk, a stiletto pierced right through his neck, evident of his demise as a stream of crimson staining his yellow dress shirt.

And Toji notices a note left on the weapon, the familiar handwriting in pink with a kiss mark already tells him who wrote it. "Gotta be quicker than that, Grandpa ~" is what he reads in your charming voice, and it vexes him knowing you beat him to the punch.

He sees you leaning on a pallet rack when he returns to the warehouse, and you smile when you turn to him. "Well, that was fast," you play coy, stretching when standing straight up. "Took care of those punks like five minutes ago, figured I'd wait on you."

"I got your note." He wastes no time. He's so hot when he does that.

"Oh? Did ya like it~?" Your hand swiftly grabs something that came dangerously close to your temple — your stiletto. It was thrown with the knowledge that you would catch it. So serious, huh.

"Ya know, for someone callin' me a 'grandpa,' you sure act like a damn kid leavin' y'r toys everywhere."

You chuckle at his complaint. "Awww, did I hurt your big boy feelings with my little words?" You see his green eyes watch your every move as you walk up close to him. "Sorry~, not my fault you were too slow to get the final kill."

Toji raises a brow. "How'd ya get to him before me?"

You shrug with a cheeky grin. "Assassins don't tell their secrets, especially when your old head couldn't get it."

It's his turn to chortle. "Oh yeah? Ya think y'r too fast for me?"

"I wouldn't say that, just that you're too slow for me," your hands go up defensively when he takes a step forward, and you try hard to not get turned on by his well-built physique displayed by the shirt that does a terrible job hiding his features. "As a matter of fact, I bet you're slow at other things."

He takes another step forward, and before you register his next move, he already has you pinned to the pallet rack you once leaned against. His smirk grows broader while your eyes widen at the sudden shifting. "Was that too slow fr' you, princess?"

No, absolutely not. That's what you would want to say to him, his tall figure engulfing you under his presence. But you didn't want to let off that easily, your hand finding the crotch of his pants. When verdant eyes shut to the feeling of your fingers brushing against his bulge, you take the chance to say more. "Oh, that was totally too slow for me, geezer. Such a shame; I thought you'd be a lot more fun. But guess I'll have to go on to the next person who could do a better job."

"Mmm, don't start somethin' y'r not ready for, brat." His gruff voice dials to a whisper, your ears replaying the tone, making the throbbing sensation between your legs prosper. You can feel his erection, even with his pants blocking the view. "Good luck findin' someone who'd shut that pretty mouth of y'rs better than I do."

You giggle after grabbing onto his erect cock, forcing the older man to hiss and his face coming down to your level. You whisper to his ear. "And what makes you think a dumb, old, brute-for-brains like you could satisfy me? I fail to see what you're capable of, grandpa." Those were the words you chose to entice the man under your spell.

But what you really failed to see was the predicament you've gotten yourself in.

Lying on a pallet with your back, your pretty bottoms and panties now discarded to the dirty floor, you scream out to the empty warehouse. Tears and drool escape from your face, and the quiver in your legs is evidence of your body going through the absolute most right now. "Haaahh! Ahhhh!! T-Tojiii, Toji, please!! I'm—Hoooohh!!" You grab tufts of raven hair that are stationed between your legs.

The older man holds your legs up with one hand, the other nestled between your slick-coated folds as his middle and forefinger push in and out of your cunt. His tongue licks furiously on your clitoris, your cries evident of the abuse on your tender bud and vulva.

Toji removes the wet muscle and moves his fingers go an instantaneous pace, the tips of his digits scraping your walls resulting in more tears falling off your face without fail. He snickers, "Look at you; all that screamin' and hollerin' like a damn whore have you forgetting simple rules." His thumb finds your clit, pushing down on it every time his fingers are propelled inside. "What did I tell you to call me, brat?"

The unforgiving rhythm of his hand on your bare vulva has you seeing stars and choking on your spit. "I-I'm sorry, Daddy!! I didn't mean to make you mad at me!"

"You sure 'bout that?" His condescending tone matched the devilish twinge of his scarred lips. The digits doing a 'come hither' motion that has your body jerking nowhere, your legs still restrained by his firm arm pushing them to your stomach. "My 'big boy feelings' were crushed with y'r little comments, so here I am gettin' the payback I need. Was acting all high and mighty until I got my mouth on ya."

"But I said—Mmmph!! I'm sorry!" You wail out, your face hot with embarrassment and excitement. "And I already came—Oh fuck...C-Came three times!!"

"You called me names four times, so I expect you to cum one more time, you fuckin' crybaby." He replies coldly, your tears and pleas on deaf ears. "Heh, if I knew havin' my fingers in you like this would have you behavin', I woulda done it earlier. Grippin' on my 'em like a damn slut."

His fingers go faster with no smooth transition as his mouth returns to your soft button, your screams erupting from the back of your exhausted throat. Even with your voice filling the scene, you can only listen to the raunchy noises of the commotion between your thighs. It's enough for you to wish your ears burn at such lewd sounds, and your head pounding worsens the state of your already mushy brain. This is what you wanted all this time — to have the man you've been infatuated with give you the attention to so dearly strived and poked for. However, the intensity of it all was nowhere near what you had expected.

"Nnnmm!! Daddyyy," the title slurred from your mouth feels hot to the tongue, but it's the only way to address him before your punishment intensifies. You peer down to see his black hair come up, fierce emerald eyes taking in your expressions. "It's coming, gonna cum again!!"

"Yeah? Wanna come on my fingers again?" He chortles when you rapidly nod at him, pathetically desperate for your release. "Fine, cum on Daddy's fingers like the slut you are." He moves his hands to the back of your thighs and has his tongue slowly glide up your soapy chasm, tasting your wetness until he reaches your clitoris and attacks the bud more. Circling around and sucking on your precious nub prompts your orgasm to climb up, and it hits you hard when his teeth and tongue grind on your clit.

With final moans of pleasure, you experience your finish with the harsh treatment of Toji's mouth, hands purchasing his hair for faux stability. Your legs tremble with curled toes, and your body jolts with the shocks. And Toji doesn't stop until he licks the slit clean of your essence, slurping up your sensitive folds until his thirst has quenched. All you can do is submit and let him have his way with you, sucking up your fluids from your cunt to the mess of your inner thighs.

"Mmmm, fucking Christ, Y/n," you hear his mumbled curse below. "Taste so fuckin' good, baby..."

Your body soon calms down from the climax, trying to steady your breathing with even breaths. And Toji finally finishes drinking your wetness, drawing his head up to reveal his lips wet with your come, licking it and his fingers. "Bet that wasn't slow fr' ya, huh."

You meekly nod your head. "And I bet nobody's gonna make you shut you up like that, huh?" You nod again.

The smirk on his face scares you, especially when he straightens up to show his erect dick still hard and ready to be free from the tented pants. And when his cock springs out, your sweaty body runs cold immediately.

"Good," he says while bringing you close to him, arranging his cock to your wet entrance. "But we ain't done here." Complaints and pleas aren't able to enter the air because you just watch the tip of his cock bully through the lips of your chasm and enter inside you with ease. He gradually pushes his entire length into you, getting full with every inch as his girth intrudes between your tight, smooth walls.

"Keep up wit' me, baby," his eyes hone in on you, gauging your reactions before he starts moving his hips relentlessly. "because I'm about to show you what I'm really capable of."

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itsjusthockey · 9 months

Note

Hey hun!! Could u write about something about Jack getting injured pretty bad with him being his clumsy self and catching his edge or something. Reader feels obligated to pamper him every second of everyday and is just so gentle with him it gets to the point where Jack is like “babe just because I hurt my leg doesn’t mean we can’t make out or do it” cause reader is like so scared of hurting him but Jack is just super needy

Smooth - Jack Hughes

Summer Series Open Now

This was a request, keep sending them I love them (if I get more than five new request, I drop a new fic tomorrow)

I changed a few little things but I love how this turned out

Much longer than expected, whoops

w.c 1,516 (credit to gif maker) (slight suggestive content)

You’re honestly surprised Jack has lived to see the grand age of 22. He may think he’s agile, smooth even, but you know better. In fact, you’d dare even to say that your boyfriend is one of the clumsiest people you know. It’s honestly a miracle he hasn’t broken anything, especially since this summer; he’s really been pushing his limits.

“Babe, Babe! Look.”

You turn your head up from the book you are currently devouring to stare at your boyfriend. You watch as he does a cute little flip on the wave and throws you a couple of peace signs. You smile, give him a thumbs up, and not a second later, he dives off the board and into the lake.

He quickly gets into the boat, grabs a towel, and shakes out his hair. As soon as he’s only a little wet, he walks toward you, sitting right next to you and placing your legs on top of his.

“That must be a damn good book. Usually, you can’t take your eyes off me.”

You roll your eyes at him, gently placing the book down. “Well, if you must know, it is very interesting. Lots of murder, lots of mayhem.”

As soon as the sentence leaves your lips, he snatches the book from your lap, reading the back insert. After a couple of seconds, he hums.

“Looks kinda good.”

You smile and snatch it back. “I’ll add it to your list.”

Jack nods, smiling again at you, and leans over to kiss your forehead. When he pulls back, he nods toward Luke, who is currently surfing at the back of the boat.

“I think I’m gonna go again; try that thing Luke saw on TikTok.”

Once he says that, you narrow your eyes at him.

“The last time you tried something like that, both of you almost drowned.”

This time Jack rolls his eyes, shaking his head wildly.

“Please (Y/N), your lack of faith is insulting. We’re experts.”

You shrug your shoulders at your boyfriend; you honestly don’t care; you know that sometimes their little tricks can become problems.

Mere minutes later, the two of them are hooked up and gliding effortlessly on the water. Quinn is driving the boat, and you’re watching, realizing this may be something you want to see. You’re also sitting beside Trevor, who’s filming the entire thing.

It’s starting great; they do a few little tricks while you and Trev cheer them on. You also catch when Jack does another turn a throws a wink your way, dragging his hand through his hair which he knows you love.

You’re honestly pretty impressed at the pair, not that you’d ever let them know that, but they look good. Everything seems to be going great until it’s not.

You’re all still cheering them on when they reach their final move. One second they’re both good, then in a blink, they both go down, but not before you hear a slight yelp from your boyfriend as he hits the water.

As soon as they fall, Trevor’s eyes dart to you, both of you sharing the “oh fuck” look. Quinn notices this, too, and weaves the boat around quickly.

When you finally get to the pair, they both look a little nervous. Trevor moves first, quickly moving to put down the ladder. Seconds later, he’s helping pull Jack up, Luke also helping to push him into the boat. You can’t help but wince yourself as you watch your boyfriend's nose scrunch up in pain.

As soon as he gets into the boat, he swings his leg up, and everyone can see the blood dripping down and a giant purple bruise forming.

Without saying a word, you grab the first aid kit from the front of the boat and swing into action. You sit across from your boyfriend, wordlessly opening a few supplies. You’re not mad, of course; you’re just worried. Injuries aren’t ideal for hockey players, even if they're small.

“Oh, son of a bitch,” Jack hisses as you wipe some alcohol pads over the rather large cut.

You glance up at him to see some tears welling up in his eyes, and as soon as you meet his eyes, he rips them away. You know he’s mad at himself and, obviously, in quite a bit of pain.

“Is he gonna make it?” Luke asks, watching behind you.

“Don’t know, might have to cut it off.”

You look toward Jack as you make the joke, trying to ease the slight tension, but he doesn’t seem very impressed.

Ten minutes later, you’re docked, and Trevor and Luke are tasked with getting Jack to the house. You stay behind, helping Quinn get the boat settled and doing the glamorous job of wiping your boyfriend's blood off the boat floor.

“He’s lucky that wasn’t worse.” Quinn breaks the silence. “I should’ve backed you up more.”

You shake your head, throwing away the bloody paper towels. “They were gonna do it anyway. He’ll be fine.

You both finish up and go to the house, seeing Luke and Trevor in the kitchen, but no sign of Jack.

“He’s upstairs,” Luke says, gesturing toward the stairs.

You walk by and ruffle his hair slightly, to which he wacks your hand gently away, throwing you an uneasy smile.

You head up the stairs to the bedroom, and when you enter, you see your boyfriend lying on the bed, his foot propped up with some ice on it. As soon as you enter, his eyes follow your figure as you move toward the dresser, grabbing some clothes to change into.

Before you go to the bathroom, you stop.

“Do you wanna shower all the lake and sunscreen off you?”

Jack whips his head toward you, and after a bit of silence, he nods. You move to help him, getting him into the bathroom and helping him peel off his shorts.

Soon you’re both in the shower, and you’re making sure he keeps his weight on the good leg. In the bathroom's light, the bruise and the cut look terrible, and your heart breaks everything he winces.

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out after minutes of silence.

You give him a confused look. “Why? It’s not like you planned on getting hurt, J.”

You quickly swipe some hair from his face, forcing him to look at you.

“I know. I just should’ve listened. And also, I was being a dick, which you don’t deserve, but I know if I talked to you, I’d start crying.”

His admission makes you even sadder, and you quickly pull your boyfriend down to meet you. Placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

“It’s okay, J.”

You finish the shower, and for the rest of the night, you dote on your boyfriend. You make sure he’s comfy, get you both snacks and turn on his favorite movie. Minutes tick by, and you’re comfortably tucked into his side when you notice he isn’t watching the movie.

“You okay? Tired?”

He shakes his head, and m he pulls you into him, connecting your lips. You smile into the kiss and then pull back away from him. This causes him to pout, and he leans back in, pulling you into him, but you resist.

"Hey now, let's not add more injuries to the list, shall we?" You give him a sweet smile and another quick peck, "How about you settle for snuggling? We don’t need any more dangerous stunts, and we can save that for when you're back to your agile, smooth self.”

Your teasing causes Jack to pout further and rolls his eyes, ducking down the meet your lips again. You slightly let him win, letting him deepen the kiss a bit before you pull back once again. As soon as you do, he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“I appreciate the concern, but I still have two legs, babe.”

He raises his eyebrow at his suggestive comment, and you roll your eyes back as far as they can go.

“Gross.”

He snickers, pulling you back in and moving his lips down your neck, stopping at the place you go crazy for. You can’t help but squirm as his lips send tingles down your spine.

“Jack, you're impossible," you laugh, trying to maintain some composure while he continues his teasing assault.

He lifts his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, if I can't be agile on the water, at least I can be smooth here," he winks, earning himself another eye roll from you.

“Smooth, huh?" you quip, a smirk forming on your lips. "I'll believe that when you can walk without limping."

He smiles another big smile, and his eyes grow soft.

“Please, I’m 100% sure you will heal me, and I promise I’ll be careful.”

You stare deep into his eyes, and you feel yourself breaking.

“Fine, but I’ll do most of the work.”

Jack's eyes darken as the words leave your lips, and at record speed, he pulls at your top.

“If that’s the case, I think I want to stay injured forever.”

#hockey #hockey boys #hockey imagine #hockey x reader #imagine #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #hockey fic #nhl hockey #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #quinn hughes #luke hughes #trevor zegras #summerlakehouseseries

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watchmegetobsessed · 5 months

Text

ONE YEAR

A/N: heeey look at that! im posting something new again!

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

SUMMARY: On the day before Christmas you realize just how much has changed in one year.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Time has always been such a weird concept in your life. When you were a kid one year felt like a decade, week-long summer vacations felt endless and you could have sworn that you’d never grow up.

But then, of course, you did, like everyone else and time sneakily started to speed up. One day after the other, weeks turned into months and years and before you could realize, another birthday has passed, you got older even though the last one felt like it was yesterday.

One year can feel like a second, but it can also make such a difference and today, the day before Christmas you’re reminded of it.

Waking up you’re not surprised to find the other side of the bed empty. The mornings when you could peacefully cuddle with Harry are now long gone, but knowing that he is somewhere out with your daughter makes up for all the missed moments together in bed.

Stretching long you give yourself a couple more minutes to just rest and get your head ready for the day. The night wasn’t too rough, only had to wake up twice to feed Alma and she went back to sleep without a fuss this time. Maybe she can finally feel the Christmas spirit as well and her gift is to let you rest finally.

Sitting up in bed you turn towards the window and see that it’s still snowing, the street outside is clothed in the prettiest white blankets that’s almost entirely untouched since it’s so early in the morning. Your wish for Alma to have a first Christmas with snow is actually coming true.

Snatching one of Harry’s hoodies from the closet, you make your way out of the bedroom as you’re putting it on, noticing his voice coming from the living room the moment you reach the stairs. Trying to be as quiet as possible you head down, hearing his cooing voice that’s for sure for Alma.

“See them? You like them? They are pretty, right?”

He has the most soothing voice as it is, but whenever he is talking to Alma it feels like it softens even more, as if that little girl melts the man in every possible way.

Well, that’s kind of the truth, Harry is smitten with his girl.

Harry is standing by the window that watches over the snowy street, the lights of the christmas tree reflecting in the glass because it’s still a bit dark outside. He is holding Alma in one arm, holding the curtains to the side with his free hand, gently swaying from side to side, a motion that always calms your baby, but only when her daddy does it.

As you watch them in awe you think back to this exact day a year ago. It’s one to remember, because this was the day you found out you were pregnant and you shared the news with Harry. As much as you love your daughter, it’s no secret you weren’t planning her arrival so soon. Harry proposed just weeks before the pregnancy came into the picture and you both agreed to take some time just for the two of you, enjoy married life alone before expanding your family. Travel, explore, find yourself before becoming parents.

All those plans changed when the second line appeared on your test.

Harry was surprised, maybe even shocked a bit. Not because he didn’t want kids, but because he was planning with another timeline that only included babies in 2-3 years. You talked for long hours that day and he told you he doesn’t feel ready, that he’s afraid he might not be the best father our baby deserves and he’s scared he might mess it up. You both cried and shared all your feelings and thoughts.

It took time for him to settle with the idea of becoming a father earlier than he planned, but by the time the nursery was done, he was a changed man. Throughout your pregnancy he did everything he could to better himself and be ready for Alma’s arrival. He read every possible parenting book out there, always took care of you and looked for ways to be more present in this new chapter of your life together.

Now it’s been four months since Alma was born and Harry is easily the best father you could ever wish for your baby and you’re so proud of him for everything he does for you and Alma as well. There’s no trace of that scared, doubtful man you sat on the couch with a year ago, the positive pregnancy test lying on the coffee table in front of you.

Alma’s head turns, as if she had a sixth sense to notice when you’re around and she gives you a toothless grin as you make your way across the room. Harry turns and you see the same sparkle in his eyes when he looks at you that you saw the first time you met. He says he knew he would marry you one day the moment he laid his eyes on you. You believe him, because you felt the same way.

“Good morning you two,” you smile, pressing a kiss to Alma’s forehead and one to Harry’s lips.

“Morning Mommy, we didn’t wake you up, right?”

“No,” you shake your head. Alma visibly starts to wiggle towards you, Harry hands her over and she lays her head to your chest right away, her tiny hands grabbing onto the sweatshirt that smells like Harry.

“Princess is kinda hungry, but I thought I could prolong breakfast a bit and distract her with the snow.” Harry smiles gently, running his knuckles down the side of Alma’s round face.

“You like the snow, huh? We’ll see how much you like it when we’re outside in the cold,” you chuckle.

You move over to the couch and Harry follows you, you sit beside each other, Harry’s arm instantly comes around you, pulling you against his chest as you settle Alma in your arms to feed her. This has been your usual for the morning feeding, but almost all feeding, because Harry loves being present in these moments. All those sleepless nights when she woke up every two hours and you had to sit in the nursery for most of the night to feed her, Harry was there every time. If you weren’t sleeping, he wasn’t either, even if all he could do was just be there, run his fingers through your hair and tell you how great of a mother you are, he never missed a chance to be present.

As usual, Alma passes out in your arms once her tummy is full and you can’t help but just stare at her and think of how you can’t imagine your life without her now.

Turning your head you find Harry gazing down at her as well with sparkling eyes and you wish to see him like this, so happy and content every day for the rest of your life.

“What?” he asks with a tiny, shy smirk, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Just… I was thinking about how much has happened in one year.”

Harry hums and you know he is thinking about the same thing from last year.

“Yeah. It’s crazy. Can’t wait to see what the next one holds.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

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lxndonorris · 9 months

Text

cool down - Charles Leclerc

Y/N x Charles Leclerc Theme: Smutish, Teasing, Touching, (light) Charles takes an ice bath x word count: 2222

Qualifying just ended, and your boyfriend Charles managed to secure third place for tomorrow's race. It was a tough battle, with multiple drivers battling for pole position, but in the end, Max snatched it before anyone else, setting the perfect lap. Fernando managed to secure the second spot in the front row, but just barely. Charles had an amazing lap, pushing the Ferrari more and more with every corner and every straight. Sadly, it wasn't enough to beat the Spaniard. Adding to the pressure of driving a Formula 1 car, the sun is shining brightly, hanging above in a cloudless sky. The heat is nearly unbearable, and sitting inside that car in full racing gear is another factor putting even more pressure on the drivers. It is important to take care of one's body, and taking an ice bath is an excellent way to prevent strained muscles and to cool down.

After the usual media obligations, Charles escorted you to his motorhome to get ready for the ice-cold relief. He is still wearing his racing suit, even though the upper half is already hanging down from his waist. It's way too hot to keep it zipped up all the way to his neck, even though you love the sight of him wearing his racing gear.

"Fuck, it's so hot." Charles lets out a low groan while he runs both of his hands through his messy hair. He turns around, and his expression softens right away when he looks at you. It's insane how good he looks, regardless. Trying to calm himself down a little, he begins to stroke his chest with one hand firmly, and you can't help but watch his hand move closely.

"You did very well today." You say comfortingly, and he takes a step toward you, a coy smile forming in the corner of his lips. Charles reaches for your waist, grabs it, and gently pulls you into him.

"Thank you," He growls, placing a single kiss on your lips. You embrace his mouth on yours and melt into him, feeling both of his follow your waistline to your ass. Wearing skinny jeans, a Ferrari shirt, and a cap, you feel his hands firmly clasp your butt cheeks. "I wish I was faster, though." He exhales once you're separated.

Sweat is running down the side of his beautiful face, and you place both of your hands on his chest, causing him to look down. "We can figure that out later." You say, running both of your hands down his firm chest and around his waist. "But first, you should try to cool down." Purring slightly, Charles lifts his chin for your eyes to meet again.

"I like how you think." He smirks and tilts his head slowly. You can tell his body is still heating up just by the way his face hardens slightly and he holds back another exhausted groan.

"Let's get you in an ice bath." Patting his chest lovingly, you make him chuckle. Even though he smiles, he rolls his eyes quickly. He doesn't want to go anywhere now and would rather spend the rest of the day with just you. But in the end, Charles knows it's important to take care of his health. You separate from him, and you motion for his shoes. "Start undressing; I'll get you some clothes." Charles nods.

"Alright." He chuckles and sits down on the sofa, untying his shoes. You walk over to a cupboard, open it, and go through it to find all the things you need. He made sure to carry a few swim shorts with him for every race during the summer. It's not always needed, but it's better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it.

"Did you just bring red ones?" You say, grabbing one of the three red shorts, and look back at him, now taking both of his shoes off. Struggling a little bit, he looks up at you, holding back a playful grin.

"Of course." He chuckles again, and you just roll your eyes. His pride and love for this team are enormous, even though it feels like a love-hate relationship. Going through his stuff, you look for a pair of slippers until you find one; this time, they're black and white. You hear him sliding out of his suit, and with a low moan, he sighs.

"That feels better." Charles's moan turns into a soft giggle, and before you can turn around, he approaches you, hugging you from behind. "Hey there." He breathes deeply and places a kiss on your neck. You enjoy the feeling of his arms around you, and you give in to him for just a second.

"Charles.." You say, and he chuckles again, taking another step back.

"I know." He pouts, and once you have all that you need, you turn around to find him standing there, wearing his fireproofs. The tight fabric flatters his excellent physique perfectly, and all of his muscles are already tensing immensely. Charles is standing there, his back turned to you, stroking his own chest mindlessly. Now, you approach him, running a hand down his spine, from his neck right to his ass. His body shudders, causing him to giggle again.

"Here." You say this, handing him his swimshorts before you put the slippers down in front of him.

"Thanks, babé." He grins, stealing another kiss from your lips. You sit down on the sofa now to have the perfect view. Charles is already in the mood after a good qualifying and the anticipation of getting an ice bath. You can tell he's also excited about tomorrow's race; it's his life and his passion, after all. Any time he gets into one of those cars wearing his beloved racing suit, he'll get horny. Giving in to his desire to drive racing cars to beat his rivals and win trophies Pure hedonism.

Charles winks and starts undressing. His shirt is the first to go. He already looks phenomenal wearing tight clothes, but his bare chest is on a whole other level. You enjoy the sight of his well-formed body, and you know he feels the same. He stops for a second, wiping tears of sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

"Fuck, that's annoying." He scoffs and runs his other hand through his messy hair, trying to fix it slightly. Nodding in agreement, you can't help but take another longing look at his bare chest, as all of him is making it harder and harder for you to stay focused.

The heat is really exhausting anyone around the paddock, and even though the motorhome has air conditioning, it's not really helping.

"The bath should be ready by now." You say that, looking at the clock. The team makes sure to have it ready after the interviews for their drivers to relax after qualifying and the race. Charles nods, slowly regaining his composure.

"I can't wait." He growls and strokes his chest again, once, twice, again, and again, mindlessly while thinking for a moment. You know he's already occupied coming up with strategies to have a shot at winning tomorrow. Racing is embedded in every fiber of his being, another reason you love him so much. Subconsciously, he runs a hand down his chest to his crotch, feeling his member through his pants.

"Guys." Shaking your head slowly, you smirk and roll your eyes again. This catches his attention. He raises an eyebrow and lifts his chin slightly, looking at you with a shimmer in his beautiful eyes.

"You love that." He grunts, grabbing himself firmly. Charles tries to act all serious, but the corner of his mouth twitches into a smirk. You get up from the sofa and approach him. He stands his ground, doesn't back down, and you lean in to him, kissing him again.

"You know I can't say no to that." You smirk and run your hands across his chest, letting your fingers brush over his hard nipples, teasing him before pinching him playfully.

"Y/N!" Charles flinches and lets out a low growl, which turns into a giggle. "I'm ticklish." He protests, but you already know that. After releasing him, you stroke him again, and his body is tensing more.

"Come on, then." You pat his chest again, and his whole body softens slightly. He nods in agreement, holding back a grin.

While you walk over to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water, Charles slides out of his pants. You open the bottle and nearly empty it right away. The cold liquid running down your throat feels so good, and with a sigh, you turn back to Charles, who's just putting on his swimshorts, sliding one hand inside them to make himself comfortable.

As he walks toward a mirror on the wall, you grab another bottle and approach him. Looking at his reflection, he runs his hands through his hair, finally able to fix them, well, as good as possible. Satisfied, he lets his hands wander down his upper body, with his fingers brushing over his muscles and across his crotch.

"Here, you need to drink a lot." You hand him the bottle, and he gladly takes it, emptying it right away. Charles lets out a long, deep sigh.

"Fuck, that feels good." He puts the bottle down and turns to you. Instantly, your eyes wander down his body once more. Naturally, you have seen him naked so many times, but it's still a sight to behold, and he knows. Tilting his head, he gives you a knowing look and puts on some jewelry. If there is something Charles Leclerc can't live without, it's jewelry and racing, of course. He puts on a chain and his beloved ring.

"Are you ready?" He smirks, puts on a pair of sunglasses, and reaches out for you to take his hand.

"Just waiting on you, dear." You smirk and take his hand.

"I know." He chuckles once again before he opens the door to lead you through the paddock. The teams organized a few trucks, which contain the tubs for the ice baths, and they aren't far from the motorhomes. It's a more secluded corner; there are no prying eyes from the media, just the teams, drivers, and some organizers. Together, you walk toward Ferrari's truck, with a few members of his team already standing there, when Carlos, his teammate, steps out of it. He's also wearing a red pair of swim shorts, and once he spots the two of you, he smiles.

"It feels so good, Charles." He says before turning to you. "Hey, Y/N." Carlos smiles warmly.

"Hey Carlos." You smile and blush. He's looking very good; there is no denying that. Just then, Charles squeezes your hand.

"I totally need that right now." He says, his voice a little rougher than usual. Carlos nods and steps aside.

"It's all yours." A polite smile spreads across his lips before he leaves. Carefully, Charles leads you up the steps into the back of the truck. It's already cooler inside there, but once you reach Charles's tub, you can't help but put your hand into the water.

"Wow. That's cold." You pull your hand out and shake it. Charles just chuckles again, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him to whisper into your ear.

"Care to join me?" He breathes down your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You, on the other hand, just shake your head in disagreement.

"It's all yours." You motion toward the bath, and he shrugs. Just putting your hand in was enough bathing in icy water for the whole day.

"Your loss." He smirks, and without further ado, he steps inside. One leg at a time, his body gets engulfed in freezing water, and right away, he lets out multiple low groans and moans, trying his best to hold them back. "Fuuuuck." Charles's moan turns into a giggle again before he proceeds to sit down. Breathing deeply, he lets out a long, exhausted sigh before standing up again.

"Feels good?" You ask and take a step forward again, feeling the temperature with just the tips of your fingers.

"So good." He smiles happily and approaches you again to kiss you once more. Unable to resist, you place a hand on his well-formed chest again, feeling his muscles react to your slightest touch. "Mhmmm." He purrs into your mouth, giving you goosebumps.

Then, he separates himself by taking a step back and proceeds to rub icy water all over his chest to cool down some more. Charles knows he's teasing you this way, but that makes it even more interesting for him.

"So, what are we goona do about tomorrow?" You steady yourself against the tub and lean in over the edge. Right away, Charles starts to play with his ring, something he'd do while thinking or as a self-soothing gesture.

Together, you come up with some ideas and some possibilities for how he could actually gain places or win the race. After all, anything is possible. A well-timed safety car or other people's technical issues can help in that matter. In the end, it's often luck-based, but it's fun to watch races, especially when Charles might be standing on that podium again.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc blurb

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yanderambling · 1 year

Text

concept: Masochist Puppyboy!Yandere(m) x Bully!Reader(gn)

words: ~1k

CW: 18+, yandere behavior, bullying, physical/verbal abuse, reader smoking

in case this looks familiar: this is my best recreation of a story i posted on my deleted account- i loved it too much to let it die, hopefully you'll like it too!

Adrian tries in vain to still his wagging tail, but it only propels faster as he gets closer to you.

This happens every morning: he passes by your "spot" where you hang out with your delinquent friends before school, and you always make sure to give him trouble- and it never gets easier for him to handle.

Sure, he could take a different route to school. Hell, he could even just cross the street. But then how would you catch his eye as he passes and send his heart racing? How would you snatch his tail between your fingers and give it a harsh tug that has him stumbling to a stop and biting back a moan?

"What's got you so excited this morning, freak?"

Adrian chokes on his words, causing your friends to mutter and laugh amongst themselves. He clears his dry throat before trying again, but it's so hard to focus on words with your fingers gripped in his fur.

"N-nn-Nothing."

You scoff. "That's what you say every morning, though." You gesture at him with his own tail, your voice dripping with bored condescension. "I'm starting to think this thing is broken."

The uncomfortable pressure makes Adrian's stomach flip in the most delicious way. "'m-'m sorry..." He murmurs, his heavy tongue struggling to form the words he wasn’t really sure why he was saying.

Another scoff from you, this one distinctly amused (god you’re beautiful when you laugh, even your mockery is breathtaking). "Yeah, you're sorry alright."

Adrian sees one of your friends start to step forward in his periphery, but you halt them with a simple wave of your hand.

Adrian's heart soars.

That's right! You're the only one that gets to touch him like this! You're the only one that gets to pull his tail and pinch his ears, that gets to yank his shirt and steal the breath from his lungs, that gets to grab his arm so hard he’s left pushing on the bruise for a week. Wow, you don't even want your friends getting close to him- you must really care for him!

"The hell are you smiling for?"

Adrian jumps at your blunt words, blinking at you with wide eyes as he struggles to bite down on his grin. "I- I'm not- sure- I-" He can't just say it, he knows how flustered you get about him around your friends, but he also can't very well ignore you. He gulps. “I'm- I don't- I'm not, um-"

You cut him off with a breathy, sardonic laugh (he can all but hear the angelic choir underscoring it). "Oh, jesus, whatever. Where's my damn lunch?"

Adrian perks up at this, a direction. “Oh!” He quickly turns to retrieve it from his bag, the motion causing your grip to tighten and his tail to be jerked in a downright sinful manner.

“H-hhnn-h-here…” He digs out an expensive-looking bento box, quickly holding it out to you with both hands.

Adrian has been bringing you a homemade lunch every morning for the better part of the school year (made by himself with lots of love and only a little spit, but you seem to like it so much!), content with eating from the convenience store so his parents don't get suspicious about him packing two lunchboxes. He's happy to do it, to know he's serving you every day, that his dedication and affection are regularly being consumed by you- it's an honor that thrills him to no end. (You just think you're taking his lunch, and that his mom is a killer cook.)

You snatch the box from him, giving his tail a final (mouthwatering) tug before you open the container. Adrian subconsciously holds his breath as your mouth curls into a tantalizing smirk.

"Sushi, huh? Trying to get on my good side, mutt?" You flick his ear as you snap the bento closed.

Adrian is surprised his legs haven’t given out. "Y-yea-ea- I- I know it's- your favorite..."

You snort, even managing to make that sound like music to his ears. “Yeah, I'll bet."

You swing your bag around and stuff the lunch away, drawing your hand back with a cigarette and lighter.

Adrian watches in awe as you hold it to your mouth; he’s completely enraptured by the way your sweet lips purse around the filter, the way your fingers flex as they ignite it, the way the flame reflects in your entrancing eyes, the way your cheeks hollow the slightest bit as you puff. He’s practically drooling as he watches the smoke crawl from your parted lips.

"What are you waiting for, a tip? Get lost."

Adrian startles out of his reverie, blinking slowly as he comes back to himself. Oh, right. He's given you what you needed from him, he can leave now.

Damn.

He obediently ducks his head and hurries on his way, only throwing about a dozen or so glances back your way before he rounds a corner.

Leaving you is a physical pain, and it hurts more each time he has to do it. Every step away from you is like a knife to his chest, every inhale of air you haven't breathed is suffocating- but it's a pain he's more than happy to feel. Because to feel the pain of leaving means he got to be around you at all, a sacred privilege he still isn't sure how he earned.

It's not because he's a hybrid, they make up over half the school and you've never payed any of them the same attention- no, you chose him. For one reason or another- love, destiny, (he's an easy target; solitary, never fights back, eager to follow your demands, and he doesn't tell anything to anyone no matter what you do to him. he’s pathetic, really, but a nice little puppy to have around), whatever it may be- you chose him.

And you just keep choosing him.

With this reassurance in mind (and one of his many treasured photo albums of you open on his phone), Adrian continues his trek to school with a skip in his step.

He's already looking forward to watching you eat his lunch from across the cafeteria.

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

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#yandere x reader #yandere x you #soft yandere #sub yandere #male yandere #hybrid yandere #puppy yandere #bully reader #gn reader #yandere oc #yandere concept #yandere imagine #yandere requests #requests open #tw yandere

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corroded-hellfire · 1 year

Text

As You Wish - Eddie Munson x Reader, Part 3

This was a collaboration with my dear @munson-blurbs!

Summary: Eddie knows he hasn’t gone about things as he should have, so he’s determined to make things better—for everyone. You can read part two here.

Note: Thank you everyone for your kind words and hilarious messages! Seeing what you all have to say about this series truly makes my day.

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), breeding kink, spanking, oral f!receiving, I think that’s it?

Words: 10.8k

[All stories in this verse]

"I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as—”

BZZZT!

The apartment buzzer rings, startling you from your When Harry Met Sally trance. You’d nearly dropped your bowl of cookie dough ice cream.

“I’ll answer it,” your roommate calls out, padding across the living room. You muster up a smile as a silent thanks; you just don’t have the mental energy to face another human being right now.

“Who is it?” Jess asks, speaking into the intercom on the wall.

“It’s me. Um, it’s Eddie.” His voice makes your stomach drop into your feet as you violently shake your head no. You’d filled Jess in on what had happened over the weekend, and she certainly wasn’t on Eddie’s side.

Sure enough, a scowl crosses her face. “Why don’t you fuck off, Eddie?” she sneers.

“Yeah, so, I’ll do that,” he mumbles, “but I just need to drop something off. Please.” He sounds so pathetic. Good.

Jess looks over at you for your reaction. “I don’t want anything from him,” you mutter, snuggling deeper into your fuzzy blanket. “Tell him to go away.”

She nods, pressing on the intercom again. “Denied.” She starts to walk away, but Eddie’s pleas stop her in her tracks.

“Look, I know I fucked up big time. And I’m so sorry. I never should have dragged her into this; gotten her caught up in my bullshit. I was…I was a coward, okay? A goddamn coward. But I’m done avoiding fixing my mistakes. Because when I tried to run from my problems, I hurt the best girl I know. And I want—need her to know that I’ll prove how much she means to me, if she’ll let me.”

Jess turns to you, her eyes wide and slightly misty, obviously moved by Eddie’s words. She puts her hand over her heart and inclines her head towards you, silently asking if you’ve changed your mind. And it’s tempting. How many times did you fantasize about Eddie making some big dramatic declaration about how much he cares for you? But you’re scared. Scared this is some sort of false hope. That you’ll let yourself be ensnared by his spell and let yourself get hurt again and again. You’ve never had fear like this before and it’s as if your body and mind just want to shut down.

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “I-I don’t want to see him.”

Now Jess goes from moved to annoyed. She plants her hands on her hips and takes a few steps closer to where you’re curled up on the old floral couch. “Are you kidding me right now? I’ve listened to you sing the praises of this man for a year now. How sweet and kind and wonderful he is. Listened to you say over and over again how much you love him and how if you had him, you’d never take him for granted like his crazy bitch of a wife does.” She flings her hand toward the front door. “Well? He’s here. Trying to apologize for what he’s put you through. You even said yourself when you came home crying the other day that you know he cares about you. So why don’t you at least hear him out?”

“I don’t want to see him,” you say in a small voice. Sniffling, you shrug your shoulders. “You’ve never seen his eyes.” You shake your head, gaze dropping to your lap. “He has this puppy dog look about him and I know if I see it, I’ll cave no matter what he says.”

“So, go in your room,” Jess says. “I’ll let him up, drop whatever he wants to drop off, let him say his peace. And you can just listen.”

Heaving a sigh, you snatch up the remote and press the pause button. Tossing the blanket from your lap, you stand and make the few steps into your room and shut the door. Jess scurries back over to the intercom, hoping he hasn’t left yet.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah! Yeah, still here.” The hope is clear in his voice as he realizes he hasn’t been ignored completely.

“Come on up.”

Eddie wastes no time, pulling the door open as soon as Jess presses the button, taking the stairs two at a time and making his way to apartment 217. The sound of his knuckles rapping on the door reaches you in your bedroom and you wrap your arms around your body, mentally preparing yourself to listen to what he has to say.

“She’s in her room,” you hear Jess tell him. “You can talk through the door. And what have you got to drop off?”

There’s silence except for Eddie’s footsteps and the curiosity of what he’s brought burns in your brain. As his footsteps come right up to the other side of your door, there’s a buzzing in your stomach.

“C-Can you hear me?” Eddie asks.

“Yes,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut. Just the sound of his voice so near has you longing to throw the door open and jump into his arms. You’ve never felt as safe in your life as you did when he was hugging you.

“I, um.” Eddie clears his throat. “I’m so sorry, sweethea—I’m sorry. I fucked up big time. What are you…” Eddie trails off and your eyebrows pinch in concern.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Jess says, loudly enough that you know she’s standing next to Eddie. “But you should read this.” There’s a slide against the hardwood of your floor and you look down to see a little white rectangle slip under your door. It’s a business card, you realize as you pick it up.

Carl Hampton, Esquire

Divorce Attorney

“Turn it over,” Jess says.

It’s not enough for you to be mine, so I’m taking the first step towards being yours - Eddie

The tears start immediately. Even as you read the note in Eddie’s scrawling handwriting over and over again, your vision goes a little bit blurrier each time. Your hand trembles as you hold the card, the other going up to cover your mouth. Even though you think you’ve been quiet as your crying grows to sobs, you must be louder than you realize.

“Okay, she’s crying,” Eddie says, clearly talking to Jess.

“Let me go in,” Jess says, but when she cracks the door open you catch sight of Eddie. He’s distorted and fuzzy through your tears, but you’d know that mass of curls anywhere. Jess has just enough time to jump out of the way as you launch yourself into his arms, not sure if this means you forgive him or not, but just knowing you need to be held by him.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Eddie says as he clutches you against his body. “Shhh, it’s okay.” One of his arms is wrapped securely around your waist while his hand on the other comes up to smooth over your hair. “You’re okay.”

Jess sidesteps the two of you embracing, so she can head back into the living room; just far enough to be out of the way but close enough to hear everything.

Eddie’s touch manages, as always, to calm you down. Something about his entire being makes you feel seen and understood. It’s been that way since day one with him. When you’ve calmed enough that you think you could talk without Jess acting as an interpreter, you pull away from Eddie and wipe your tear streaked face off on the sleeves of your sweatshirt.

“Eddie, please don’t break up your family for me.”

“Baby,” he slips up with the pet name, but neither of you says anything. “I’m just doing what I should’ve done ages ago. I never should have put you in this position.” Eddie aches to bring his hands up to your face, but he doesn’t want to overstep what you’re comfortable with. It’s killing him to see you visibly upset, knowing he caused it, and just holding you wouldn’t solve anything.

You nod your head at his words. Some of the pain is starting to ease and you feel like you can breathe properly for the first time in days. You’d told Eddie you just wanted to see him doing something; taking a step in the right direction. And this was a pretty damn good step to take. “You’ve called this guy?”

“No, I didn’t call him. I spent all morning at his office,” Eddie says, and your head snaps up to meet his eyes. “I’ve done everything I have to for the process to begin. Now they work on whatever legal bullshit they’ve got to do, I guess.”

But there’s something else that’s been eating at you. Yes, Eddie should’ve divorced Brittany a long time ago. But now that he’s finally doing it, does he really want to jump from one relationship to another? “Are you sure you want this? You don’t want to stay single for a while? Because I’ll under—”

Eddie caves and brings his hands up to your face, leaning in to press his lips firmly against yours, trying to convey all the love and fondness he can through one kiss.

“I love you,” Eddie says once he’s pulled away. “And you don’t have to say it back if you don’t feel it, but I needed to tell you. I fucking love you.”

There’s never been so much confusion in your heart before. Eddie loves you. The thought can’t seem to sink in. Eddie loves me. You know wholeheartedly that you reciprocate the feeling. You’ve known that you love him for a long time. But there’s still so much fear. It’s dampening the excitement of his declaration.

“I—I’m afraid,” you murmur, eyes unable to meet his.

Eddie frowns, taking your chin in his hand and tilting it slightly upwards. “Am I that mean and scary?” There’s some humor behind his words, but they’re tinged with concern.

“No.” You shake your head. “I’m afraid that if I say it back and it—it makes it real, it’ll hurt even more if…” You can’t even finish the sentence without choking up.

“Hey, hey,” Eddie presses his lips to yours. “It’s okay. I get it. Baby, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared, too. I mean, an old man like me getting involved with a total knockout like you? Beauty and brains?” He chuckles. “Let’s face it, pretty girl. I have a lot more to lose than you do.”

“I…I…” you hesitate, trying to muster up an ounce of courage. “I can’t do this, Eddie.” You gently press the business card back into his palm. “I can’t be in love with someone who’s married.” Your eyes widen as you come to a realization that makes you sick. “The boys…they’ll know I’m the reason that their parents split up.” You imagine their sweet, innocent faces blotchy with tears as they tell you they hate you.

Eddie’s posture goes tense, and he almost sounds angry as he says, “Absolutely not. You gave me the courage to file, but my marriage was over long before this.” Your lips brush together in a series of chaste kisses. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” He rests his nose on yours; the saltiness of his own tears mixing with yours as they seep into your tongue.

“I think we need to wait,” you blurt out, words tumbling from your mouth before you can think them through. “Until Brittany knows that you’ve filed, and you’ve talked about it with the kids.” It’s painful to push him away, but it’ll hurt worse if you continue this and he decides not to follow through with the divorce.

Eddie looks crushed, like he was hoping to sweep you off your feet and make love to you right then and there. “Right, yeah. That makes sense.” He sniffles, trying to will away the sting of your rejection. “When that happens, we can finally be together?”

“If that’s what we both want.”

“Baby, I’ll never stop wanting you.” He’s so tempted to pull you into him and leave harsh, bruising kisses down your jawline, claiming you as his. “I’ll wait as long as you need.”

You just nod, twiddling your thumbs to keep yourself from intertwining your fingers with his. “Do you still want me to watch the boys?” you ask shyly, cheeks burning at the ridiculousness of the question. “Because I get it if—”

“If it’s okay with you. We’d—they’d—really miss you if you just up and left.” I’d miss you most of all, he thinks, but keeps it buttoned up inside.

“Yeah,” you concede, stepping back towards your bed. “I’ll see you all later, then.”

You’re about to close the door when you hear him say, “Wait.” He steps closer to you, business card between his pointer and middle fingers. “Hold onto this f’me, please?”

You initially hesitate before accepting the card again. “Okay.”

“Never want you to forget how I feel about you,” Eddie says, placing one last kiss on your cheek before he’s out the door, leaving you in a spiral of your own racing thoughts.

As soon as Jess hears his footsteps disappear down the hall, she’s in your room. “I don’t normally tell you what to do,” she murmurs, rubbing small circles on your back, “but if you don’t marry this man, I will.”

You give her a playful nudge as you rest your head on her shoulder. “He’s gotta get un-married first,” you remind her—and yourself—bitterly.

After the conversation you had with Eddie earlier in the day, you’re a little worried things will be awkward when you pick Luke and Ryan up from school. But thankfully, they’re the same happy kids you know and love, and not a thing is different with them. It’s almost time for Eddie to come home when the three of you are finishing up a game of Candyland. Luke kept getting caught in the Molasses Swamp, so he huffs as you enlist their help in cleaning up the board and pieces. When the little boy stomps down the hall to put the game away, Ryan looks up at you. You give him a smile and his gaze shifts back to his lap. He glances back up at you and the unusual behavior makes you frown.

“What’s up, buttercup?” you ask.

“Why were you sad?” he asks, voice soft.

Frowning, you move some hair off of his forehead. “What do you mean?”

“On Saturday. You were talking with Daddy and then you got really sad and left. You didn’t even come say hi.” His sad brown eyes look so much like his father’s that it brings you back to when Eddie gave you the same look this morning.

“I didn’t know you saw me.” You pause, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap. You’re not sure if Eddie had already said anything about it or not and you don’t want to contradict any explanation he might have given the kids. “Um, well, I was having a bad day. Do you ever have a day where you just don’t feel very happy?” Ryan nods. “That’s what it was. And I didn’t want to make you or Luke sad too, so that’s why I didn’t say hi.”

“Oh,” Ryan says, nodding his head. “Are you still sad?”

“Not as much,” you tell him truthfully. “Just a little.”

His little hand comes over and takes yours. “I don’t want you to be sad. You know what Daddy tells me when I get sad? That he loves me. And I love you. So, I’m telling you that.”

The smile that comes to your face is reflexive. Ryan is such a sweet boy, and you can’t imagine what your life would be like without him. You lean in and press a kiss to his hair, mumbling against it. “Seems to be a trend with the Munson boys today.”

“What?” Ryan asks.

“I love you, too,” you tell him, squeezing his hand gently. “You made me feel better.”

“Good!” A smile lights up his face and you wonder how this kid became so sweet despite having a mother like he does. Then the obvious answer hits you: Eddie’s his dad. Sweet, kind, means-well-but-sometimes-fucks-it-up Eddie.

You’re jostled from your thoughts by the sound of a key turning in the lock. Eddie hustles in, giving you a small smile.

“Hi,” he says simply, waiting for your response to see how he should proceed. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his coveralls.

“Hi.” You stand up and return his smile. “The boys were great today, as always.” You rest your palm on Ryan’s shoulder as he gives his dad a grin, showing off the gaps where his missing teeth are.

“We played Candyland, and I won,” he proudly reports. “And then I used your cheer-up trick! You know, when you tell someone you love that you love them.”

“Oh?” Eddie cocks an eyebrow. “Luke was that upset about losing?”

You shake your head. “No–well, yes,” you chuckle softly. “But he was talking about me. He saw that I was sad on Saturday and wanted to make me feel better.”

A wider smile spreads across Eddie’s face. “You’re a thoughtful kid, you know that?” he tells his oldest son, who doesn’t quite understand the concept of rhetorical questions.

“I know.” His candid demeanor makes you and Eddie laugh, and Ryan sprints to his brother’s room to announce that their dad is home.

You reach for your jacket, eager to leave before you’re tempted to talk to Eddie. Because you know precisely where that will lead.

“Hey, um,” Eddie digs into his pocket and pulls out more bills than usual from his wallet. “I’m gonna tell her tonight. Figured that’d go over better than just having her served.” He hands you your salary plus two extra twenties. “Could you take the boys out for dinner? Could just be McDonald’s or somethin’.”

You swallow thickly as you accept the money. “Y-Yeah,” you stammer, “how long will you need?”

“Give us an hour?” he shrugs. “Don’t think it’ll take that long; she’ll probably yell for a few minutes and then leave. But just in case she decides to stick around and scream for a while.” His chocolate brown eyes meet yours, making you shiver. “Thank you, baby–I mean, thank you. For, um, for everything.”

“Of course,” you nod. There’s a beat of awkward silence before you say, “I’ll go tell Luke and Ryan. They’ll probably be excited to have a Happy Meal.”

Eddie bites his lower lip as he watches you walk away. It’s going to be the hardest conversation of his life, but knowing it’ll bring you back to him makes it worth it.

Brittany comes home after you’ve already left with the kids, thankfully. Eddie’s waiting at the kitchen table, hands folded in front of him and knee bouncing up and down in nervousness. Brittany hangs up her coat and pauses as she passes the kitchen, raising an eyebrow as she sees her husband sitting there.

“Um, hi?” she says.

“Hi, um.” Eddie kicks out the seat across from him at the table. “Can you sit? I need to talk to you about something.”

To his complete shock, she complies. “Where are the boys?”

“Uh, out to dinner. I needed to talk to you. Alone.”

“Okay.” Brittany crosses her arms over her chest before her face contorts in a sneer. “Wait. Is that little whore pregnant?”

Eddie bangs his palm against the table before pointing a finger at her. “Don’t you fucking call her that.” He takes a moment to compose himself, then a small smile creeps on his face as he thinks about the question. At the very thought of you having his baby.

“Holy shit, she is!” Brittany shouts.

“Oh, calm down!” Eddie rolls his eyes and motions for her to relax. “She’s not.”

“What’s with that dopey grin then, huh?” She spits the words at him, venom lacing every syllable.

“Honestly? Cause the thought of her having my baby makes me really fucking happy. But that’s not—.”

“Ugh!” Brittany screeches. “What is wrong with you? I am your wife. Me! Remember? The one you promised yourself to?”

Eddie throws his head back and laughs, a hand slapping against his chest. “You’re actually serious? Really, Britt? You realize you’re the one who broke the vows first, remember? Years and years ago. So, you don’t get to act all high and mighty here.” Eddie licks over his lips, shaking his head. “You’re right, technically. You are my wife.” Not for long, he thinks to himself. “But we’ve been over a long time.”

“Just because you’ve decided it?” She arches a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

“Because you stepped out and stopped giving a shit about me.” Eddie holds his hands up. “I’m getting off track. Listen, I saw a lawyer today.”

“Why?” she snaps.

“I filed for divorce.” No sugar coating it. No beating around the bush. This shitshow of a marriage has already taken up too much of Eddie’s time. “And don’t blame her for it, because all she did was give me the courage to do what I should’ve done ages ago.” His eyes are blazing. “You only kept me around so you could pretend to have this perfect little life: husband, kids, house in the suburbs. Or maybe because you get some sick pleasure from stringing me along while you sleep with half the town.” That last part is probably a step too far, but he doesn’t care.

Brittany scoffs incredulously. “Fine, Eddie. You two enjoy your Barbie Dreamhouse life together. The boys and I will manage without you.” She starts to stand up, but she’s drawn back by a loud guffaw from Eddie. “What?”

“Do you really think they’re gonna want to live with you? Do you even know what goddamn grade they’re in? What they want to be when they grow up?” He watches her face fall. “That’s what I fuckin’ thought. And you know the saddest part? They know it, too. They know that their own mother doesn’t give a shit about them.” He wipes a tear from his cheek. “I bet you know every last detail about your boyfriends, though. You and your fucked up priorities.”

Brittany’s expression turns from shock to rage. “Get. Out.” she seethes, gritting her teeth. “Go stay with your girlfriend, since you love her so much.” She’s crying, too, but because she’s losing the argument, not because she’s losing her husband.

“You’re gonna wake up with them and get them ready for school in the morning? Tell me; what do they eat for breakfast?” He laughs tersely at her silence. “That’s what I thought.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m staying here. For Ryan and Luke.” His voice softens slightly. “You can stay here, too, until we sort this shit out.”

Brittany doesn’t take him up on his offer; instead, she storms out of the room and into the bedroom. She starts tossing clothes into a duffel bag, zipping it up and tossing it over her shoulder. “I’ll be back tomorrow after they go to school to get the rest of my things.”

She slams the screen door behind her, and Eddie hears her car start up and peel out of the driveway. He allows himself to sob, mourning the life he’d once had. But he still has his boys; his incredible, gentle, loving sons.

And if he plays his cards right, he has you, too.

Eddie finally drags himself from the kitchen table to the bathroom where he washes his face. It’s all red and splotchy from the crying, and the tears are sticky on his skin. As he’s toweling himself off, the bathroom light glints off his golden wedding ring, reflecting in the mirror above the sink. Eddie sets the soft towel down and stares at his left hand. He should be upset about taking it off, he thinks. But as he slips it off his finger all he feels is immense relief. It’s as if the ring weighed a ton and now without it, he feels light as a feather. Walking into his room, he pulls open his bedside table and drops the ring inside. He’ll have to think of something to do with it, but for now, it’s fine lying in the dusty old drawer.

The front door opens, and two loud voices echo back to the master bedroom. Rubbing his hands over his face one last time, Eddie heads out to greet his family.

“Daddy!” Luke calls when he sees him. “Look! I got a race car toy!”

“Wow,” Eddie says, taking the small blue car from his son. He looks it over and nods his head appreciatively. “This looks like something I’d want to work on in the garage.”

Luke giggles and takes the toy back, happily going over to the coffee table which he pretends is a road for his new car to drive over.

“Hi, Dad! Bye, Dad!” Ryan runs towards the bathroom, making Eddie chuckle.

“Wasn’t sure he was going to make it home,” you say. Eddie slips his hands into the pockets of his jeans and gives you a small smile. His eyes catch on the chocolate shake in your hands, and you hold it out to him. “Got you this. Thought you might need it.”

“Thanks,” Eddie says as he accepts the treat.

“How’d it go?” you ask.

Eddie heaves a sigh and shakes his head. “Pretty much how I expected it to. She left for the night—went God knows where. Says she’ll be back tomorrow for her things.”

As tense as things are between you and Eddie, you can’t help but step forward and place a comforting hand on his shoulder, rubbing over the thin material of his t-shirt. “I’m sorry. I can't imagine how hard it was for you.”

“The conversation? Yeah. Doing it? Nah. That wasn’t hard,” he says with a shrug. “How were the boys?”

You both know they were fine, but you take the hint that Eddie doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. He lifts the shake to his mouth and your eyes catch on his hand. At the bare ring finger. The sight makes your tummy do a weird flip that you’re not sure how to interpret.

“They—They were fine. Good,” you say. “I, um, I should go now. Jess is probably wondering where I am.” You grab your keys and head for the door.

“Wait!” Eddie calls out, a bit louder than he’d meant to. “Sorry. I just wanted you to know that there’s no time limit on…on us. I mean, if it’s a definite no, I’ll shut up and leave you alone...”

“Eddie,” you smile, more genuinely than before. “You’ve never shut up before, and I don’t expect you to start now.”

“You know what I mean though, right?”

“I do,” you agree. “And I need time to think, but it’s…we’re not off the table.”

Eddie grins; he has to stop himself from picking you up and spinning you around in celebration. “I can live with that,” he says finally.

“You’d better.”

Sure enough, Brittany comes back the next morning to pack more of her clothes. She briefly kisses Luke and Ryan hello, shooting a glare at Eddie that could kill.

“I’m giving you until Friday to move out,” she snarls once the boys are out of earshot. “We can figure out custody shit with the lawyer, but I think it’s best for them to be in the house for now. With me,” she adds pointedly.

Eddie sighs, exhausted from just the prospect of arguing. “Fine,” he concedes, “but just because I’m moving out doesn’t mean I’m not gonna fight like hell for them.” He zips up his coveralls and calls out for the kids to put their shoes on before they miss the bus.

“Whatever, Eddie,” Brittany rolls her eyes, slipping on her blazer and her nametag. “You know they won’t take kids from their mom. You’ll just get every other weekend like the rest of the loser dads.”

Eddie takes the week to pack up his things, a pit in his stomach as he gets to the photos on his nightstand. The one of him and Brittany can go in the trash, but his heart pangs at the framed picture of his boys. The thought of waking up in the morning without them right down the hall is enough to make him cry.

“No,” he tells himself, “I’m gonna get custody of them. Full custody.” He can picture a new little home with you, Luke, and Ryan. And maybe another baby Munson or two, if you’re willing.

He makes plans with Steve to stay with him and his family, but on Friday morning, an exasperated phone call thwarts his plans.

“Hey, Munson,” Steve coughs into the phone, and Eddie winces when he hears how sick his friend sounds. “The whole Harrington bunch has the flu. It’s like an infirmary here.” He laughs softly, resulting in another round of hacking coughs. “I don’t think we’re quite up for visitors right now. I’m sorry, man.”

“S’okay,” Eddie grumbles. “Feel better.” He doesn’t have time to figure out new plans before he has to get to work, so he’ll just have to brainstorm through his oil changes today.

When you pick the kids up from school that afternoon, you immediately notice how quiet both boys are—especially Ryan. You’re almost positive you know the reason why, but you debate with yourself the whole ride back to the house if you should say anything.

Luke seems to be in a better mood once he gets a snack in him. He sits on the couch, little legs tucked up underneath his body as he munches on graham crackers and watches Scooby Doo. Ryan is still noticeably glum though, sitting at the kitchen table, his finger tracing random patterns on the green tabletop.

“Hey,” you say, taking the seat next to him. There’s no way you can just stand by and see this sweet boy feel so lousy. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right? If something is bothering you or is on your mind. Anything.”

Ryan nods his head, and you think he’s going to stay silent. But after a few moments he lifts his head up towards you, his large brown eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I don’t want to live here with Mom.”

It’s not what you expected to come out of his mouth. Any variation of “mom and daddy are breaking up” is what you thought you were going to hear.

“What do you mean, sweetheart?”

Ryan sniffles and wipes his nose on his sleeve. Any other time you’d correct him for it, but the least you could do is let it pass.

“Daddy said Mom is staying here and Luke and I can’t come with him yet. He’s going to stay with Uncle Steve and it’s not fair because I know they have a big house and I’m little enough to share a room with Daddy. But he said me or Luke can’t.”

Releasing a sigh, you wrap your arm around Ryan’s shoulders. It’s times like these where you don’t feel like the adult you legally have been for years. When you were a kid you thought adults always knew the right thing to say. Now you know that’s bullshit.

“Oh, Ryan.” You press a kiss to the top of his head. “You know Daddy would give anything to have you both with him, don’t you? You know how much he loves you.”

“More than Mom does,” Ryan says matter-of-factly. It breaks your heart that he knows that at only seven years old. And you can’t bring yourself to lie to the boy by refuting the claim.

“Daddy loves you so much,” you reiterate. “And I love you.”

“Hey,” Ryan says with a small smile. “You used Daddy’s trick, too.”

“Look at that,” you say. “And I didn’t even mean to. I was just telling you the truth about how much I love you.” You pull him into a hug, and he climbs in your lap. The only other time he’s done this before was when he was sick, so you know he desperately needs the comfort. “Hey, I’ve got you. Everything is going to be okay.” Cradling him against your body, you rest your head on top of his.

By the time Eddie gets home, both of the boys are crashed on the couch with you, one tucked on either side as Toy Story plays on the television. Their father looks wrung out as he steps inside, bags under his eyes and exhaustion worn into lines on his face. Both boys jump up and run to him like normal, but the way they cling to him this time is more desperate and needy. It brings a stinging pressure behind your eyes, and you have to blink it away.

“Hey!” Eddie says, attempting to be cheerful for them. “There’s my boys! How was your day?”

“Okay,” Ryan says at the same time that Luke shrugs. Eddie kisses both of their heads before unzipping his coveralls and giving you a small, weary smile.

You’re not sure why, but you get the urge to stand up and follow Eddie down the hallway. He raises an eyebrow when you follow him into his room. Your eyes take in the boxes around the cleared-out space before looking back to him.

“Are you okay?”

“Uh,” Eddie says with a shrug. “Hanging in there, I guess.” He sighs and runs a hand down his face. “Gotta blow some cash on a hotel though ‘cause the Harrington clan got the flu.”

You frown at that. The offer is on the tip of your tongue, but you take a moment to consider it. Is it a good idea? Sure, the tension has eased a bit between the two of you over the course of the week, but it’s still there. It’s not that you feel awkward around him, exactly, it’s more of a yearning that you’re trying to keep in check. But you still love him, and you don’t want to see him wasting his money or spending time all alone holed up in some hotel.

“Eddie, don’t do that. Save your money. Come stay with me.”

His jaw drops and a rough chuckle falls from his mouth. “Sweetheart—you, you don’t have to do this. Really, it’s fine.”

Taking a step closer, you grab one of Eddie’s hands in your own. “You’re about to be a single dad to two growing boys. And paying a lawyer to try and get custody. Come on, just stay with me.”

Eddie sighs, your logic wearing him down. Finally, he nods his head and licks over his lips. “Okay. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No, it’s okay,” you tell him. “As long as you’re not wearing your dirty coveralls, you’re more than welcome to sleep next to me.”

He sticks his tongue out at you. “My coveralls don’t make the cut, but you’re fine after being around germ machines all day?”

“They’re your germ machines!” you remind him.

When Brittany gets home, she completely ignores you. “You can go now,” she says to her soon-to-be-ex-husband. “Is your stuff packed already?” Eddie nods, but she’s already walked past him.

“Boys, come say goodbye to your dad!” Brittany calls out half-heartedly. Eddie cringes at the way it sounds: your dad. Not dad, the father of this family; now he’s an outsider in his own home.

Ryan and Luke trudge out of their rooms. “Daddy,” Luke asks softly, “can you stay? Please? You can sleep in my room if you don’t want to be near Mom.”

Eddie blinks back tears. “I’m sorry, bud,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads. “That’s real nice of you to offer, though.”

“I love you, Daddy.” Ryan throws his arms around his dad, squeezing him tight. “‘M gonna miss you.”

“Hey, hey,” Eddie forces out a chuckle, “I’m moving out; I’m not dead.” He looks up at you, and you give him a small, encouraging smile. “I’ll stop by tomorrow and we can go to the park, yeah?”

“All of us?” asks Ryan.

“Um,” Eddie clears his throat, “I don’t know if Mom will—”

“No,” Ryan shakes his head. “I meant…” He looks at you, and you’re taken aback.

“I don’t want to interrupt your father-son bonding time,” you gently tease, trying not to overstep your bounds.

“But we want you to come!” Luke protests, glancing at Ryan for confirmation, who nods. “You can play tag with us. Daddy’s too old.”

“Excuse me, sir!” Eddie gasps. “Could an old man do this?” He takes each boy in one arm and throws them over his shoulder. They’re giggling and kicking their feet; Luke narrowly misses Eddie’s groin. “Hey, be careful of the family jewels,” he warns, making them laugh even harder.

When he sets them down, he looks them square in the eyes. “Tomorrow. Playground. The four of us. And I will kick your little butts in tag. Got it?”

“Got it!” the boys echo, giving him one last hug before going back to play.

You turn to Eddie. “Y’okay?” you ask him, though it seems like a dumb question.

“Getting there,” he admits, slinging a duffel bag over his shoulder and managing a smile. “Let’s hit the road.”

Eddie throws his bag in his van and climbs in. He follows you as you drive to your apartment and pulls into the parking space next to you. When Eddie steps out of his van, you can tell he’d been crying on the drive over, but you can’t blame him one bit.

Jess is sitting on the couch when the two of you walk in, a bowl of popcorn in her lap and Pretty Woman playing on the television. Her hand freezes halfway to her mouth, a few kernels of popcorn stuck between her fingers and her jaw hanging open.

“Hi, again,” Eddie says, giving her a sheepish smile. Jess raises her other hand in greeting, eyes darting over to look at you.

“Yeah, we uh, we’ve got a house guest for now,” you say, cheeks getting warm. You gesture for Eddie to go ahead of you, into your room. Jess raises her eyebrows at you when you walk past, and you playfully swat at her before following in behind him. Closing the door, you lean against it as you watch Eddie drop his duffel onto your floor.

“You hungry?” you ask. Eddie shrugs and slides his hands into his pockets. You huff a laugh and roll your eyes. “Eddie, we have food. I can make something.”

“Don’t wanna put you out any more than I am,” he says, shrugging again.

“So, what? You’re not going to eat the whole time you’re here?” You raise your eyebrows at him and walk over, tugging on the zipper of his leather jacket. “You’re also allowed to take your jacket off, ya know? We don’t make our guests sweat or starve themselves to death.”

“Such a good hostess,” Eddie says with a playful smirk.

“Oh, come on.” You open your bedroom door and walk out to the kitchen, waiting as Eddie trails along behind you. Pursing your lips, you open the freezer and peer inside. “Should we have ice cream sundaes for dinner?”

“Oh, the boys would be so jealous.” Eddie chuckles and reaches in to grab the ice cream. You put two bowls down on the counter and Eddie starts scooping as you grab any toppings you can find. Whipped cream, sprinkles, chocolate chips, cherries, and chocolate sauce. Eddie dips his finger in the chocolate sauce and puts a dot of it on your nose. He laughs when you go cross eyed trying to look at it.

“Whipped cream, please,” you say, holding your hand out. The sound of the spout spraying out the airy cream meets your ears before you feel the cold stickiness hitting your palm. “I meant the can!”

Eddie’s smirk falls from his face as you lick the whipped topping from your hand, instantly realizing he walked right into you teasing him like that. It hadn’t been your intention to tease him though, and you feel your face warm up as you swallow the mouthful. Neither of you having eaten in hours, you inhale the sundaes, and Eddie manages to only get brain freeze once. You put the empty bowls in the sink to be washed later, and Eddie says he’s going to take a quick shower. As you grab a towel for him, you tease him about making sure he gets all the dirt from his coveralls off his body. He tugs on a strand of your hair before heading into the bathroom.

Even though it’s early, you change into your pajamas and get comfortable on your bed. You pull out your worn copy of Little Women and reread it for what must be the hundredth time. You’re so enraptured by Jo and Laurie’s banter that you don’t even hear the shower turn off.

“Jesus H. Christ!” Eddie’s voice snaps you from your book. Your jaw nearly drops to the ground when you see him walk in, wearing nothing but the towel around his lithe waist. His curly hair is dripping wet, leaving little water droplets along his bare shoulders as he scrambles for his clothes. “Shit, ‘m sorry. Forgot my suitcase…”

“It’s fine,” you reassure him, marking your page with an old receipt and closing the book. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Eddie blushes, and it’s simultaneously the cutest and sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. “Y-Yeah, but we’re not doing, um, that anymore, so…” He grabs a clean pair of boxers and plaid pajama pants. “I’ll just get changed in the bathroom.”

He comes back without a shirt on, and you cock an eyebrow in amusement. “Forget something?” you ask, trying to play it cool and not salivate at the sight of his tattooed chest.

“Oh, yeah…” he grins sheepishly. “I usually get too warm to sleep with a shirt, b-but I can put one on if you’d feel more comfortable.”

The ache between your legs tells you that something else has to happen to alleviate your discomfort, but you push away that thought. “Nah, I’d rather sleep next to a shirtless Eddie than a sweaty one.” But that’s bullshit; you’d sleep next to any version of him you could get.

Eddie flips you off before climbing into bed. “Longest week of my life,” he mutters. His arm instinctively snakes around your waist; it isn’t until you move to flick off your lamp that he realizes. “Fuck, ‘m just so used to holding you.” He starts to pull away, but you hold his hand in place.

“You can hold me…if you want to,” you murmur, sliding deeper under the covers. “Y’don’t have to.”

But Eddie’s already tugging your back to his chest. “Don’t have to tell me twice.” His voice is muffled, face nuzzled against your shoulder blade. “Oh, and don’t mind him if he’s excited in the morning. He has a mind of his own.”

You throw his words back at him. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

A comfortable silence fills the air as you lay in his arms. He presses tiny kisses along your shoulders, making you shiver.

“Eddie?” Your voice is so small that even you barely hear it. “Can I ask you something?” You adjust yourself so that you’re facing him, your nose touching his. His big hands fall to your thighs, and he rubs his thumb along them as he waits for you to elaborate. “The other day, when you said you love me…why?”

His face scrunches up in confusion. “Why did I say it? Or why do I love you?”

“Both, I guess.”

“Well,” he starts, bringing one palm up to cup your cheek, “I love you because you treat me and my boys with love, kindness, and respect. I love you because you make me smile on my worst days. Saying goodbye to Ryan and Luke tonight…I thought my heart was gonna break in half. But then you were there, and I knew everything would be all right. Maybe not right now, but it will be. You give me hope. And I haven’t felt that for a long time.” He offers you a little smile. “And I told you because you deserve to know how fucking loved you are.”

His confession leaves you breathless; it takes you a moment to process it all. “Eddie Munson, the fact that anyone made you question your worth…” you trail off, shaking your head. That isn’t what this is about. “You make me happy. I never knew that one person could be so kind, so thoughtful, so loving. And your boys…God, they’re just the best kids, all because of you. They see what a gentle, sensitive man you are, and they’re not afraid to show that side of themselves.”

“I’m actually very burly,” he pouts. “Dunno why you’re painting me as this big ol’ softy.”

“You’re right; I’m sorry,” you giggle. “You’re the toughest, grittiest guy I know. You could fight a kangaroo and win.” You feel his fingertips dig into your hips as he brings you even closer to him. “And those are just some of the reasons why…why I love you, Eddie.”

Even in the dim lighting of your darkened room you can see the way Eddie’s face lights up at your words. If your stomach wasn’t already a flurry from finally telling him how you feel, it would be from the sheer joy in his expression.

“Say it again,” Eddie pleads, hand coming up to cup your cheek. “Please.”

“I love you, Eddie.” His smile is contagious as you mirror it, saying the words that have long been on your heart.

“I love you, too.”

It’s far from your first kiss, but as the two of you lean in towards one another, the electricity crackles in the air around you. There’s a giddiness and an earnesty when your lips touch that sends a shockwave through your body. It’s not your first kiss but it’s your first kiss since you’ve declared your love for one another. That makes it your favorite kiss of all.

Eddie rests his forehead against yours, hand sliding down to your neck and his thumb brushing over your pulse point. Goosebumps break out on your skin beneath his touch, and he chuckles as he feels them against his fingertips.

“Can’t believe you react that way because of me,” he says. “I feel like all of this is too good to be true.”

You nod, your hand coming up to rest on top of his black widow tattoo, over his heart. “I know what you mean. I felt that way our first night.”

“Mm, but now,” Eddie says, pausing to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “It’s just you and me and nothing has to be hidden. I can take you out, hold your hand in public, kiss you in front of whoever I want—with your permission, of course.”

“What about the boys?” Your hand comes up to play with the damp curls at the base of his neck. “What do we tell them? It might be confusing for them to go straight from ‘Daddy loves Mom’ to ‘Daddy loves our babysitter.’”

“That wasn’t exactly how it happened,” Eddie says with a breathy chuckle. “More like ‘Daddy stopped loving Mom a long time ago because she’s evil incarnate and then he met the most beautiful, wonderful, amazing woman who stole his heart.’”

“That might be a little tough for them to swallow,” you say, a playful smirk on your lips.

“Well…” Eddie says, looking up at you through his dark eyelashes. There’s a shy expression on his face and it’s so foreign to his features. “What are we, then? Like, how would you want to describe what we have?”

It sounds like such a high school question, but it’s important to figure it out and make sure you’re both on the same page. Husband and wife? your brain thinks automatically. You feel like you’re going to have to constantly kick yourself in the ass to make sure you don’t get ahead of yourself.

“Hmm,” you hum. “Well, you mentioned taking me out. Why don’t you ask me on a proper first date?”

“God, I haven’t done that since high school,” Eddie says.

“Didn’t they call it courting back then? You know, in the 1920’s?”

Eddie smirks and his hands instantly attach to your sides, tickling you until you’re a squealing, squirming mess below him.

“Okay, so how about for our first date I take you to the bingo hall?” Eddie’s flat voice makes you giggle even harder. You drop your forehead to his shoulder and cuddle your body closer to his.

“Nope,” you say, popping the p. “M’not 21 yet. Can't gamble.”

“Or drink,” Eddie realizes, his eyes widening. “Holy shit, I’m dating a Cabbage Patch Kid.”

A blush comes to your cheeks as you laugh, deciding not to point out that there is in fact a Cabbage Patch doll sitting in the corner of your room. “So, we’re dating, huh?”

“I guess we will be once I think of a perfect place to take you,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“And ask me,” you remind him, raising your eyebrows.

“Right, right.” Eddie clears his throat. “Sweetheart, would you make me the happiest metal head this side of the Mississippi and accompany me on a date next Friday?”

Pursing your lips, you pretend to think his offer over. His eyes narrow at you as the silence stretches on.

“I would be honored, Edward.”

His nose wrinkles up at the formality of his full name. “Ugh, that sounds so snobby. Edward.”

“Hmm,” you tease. “How about Edwin? Edmund? Edgar?”

“Uh, no.”

“Oedipus?”

“Isn’t that the guy who fucked his mom and killed his dad?”

The rest of the night is like this; being silly and sneaking kisses as you cuddle up into each other. You feel so safe against Eddie’s chest, enveloped in his warmth. You start to drift off to sleep, but your rest is disrupted by his constant tossing and turning.

“Something on your mind?” You try to keep your voice light, but you can’t help the concern that seeps through.

Eddie slips his arm around your waist, thrumming his fingers along your hip. “Can’t stop thinking about my boys,” he murmurs. “I just wish they were here, too. Hate knowing that I won’t wake up in the morning to them fighting over Hot Wheels.”

You sigh, debating whether or not to tell him what you know. “I talked to Ryan today,” you begin, hoping you’re doing the right thing, “and he said that he wants to live with you. Not, um, her. He was sad that he and Luke had to stay in the house and not come with you.”

“Oh.” Eddie’s silent, processing what he’s just heard. “That makes me feel good, I guess. Too bad a judge won’t care.”

“What do you mean?” You prop yourself up on your elbow, facing him.

“She said that dads usually just get every other weekend, holidays, y’know,” he bites his lip nervously, and you kiss it to distract him. “I mean, I’m glad they don’t hate me, but it makes me sad that they’ll have to be with her if they don’t want to be.”

You shake your head. “Eddie, the boys–especially Ryan–are old enough that a judge will listen to what they want. And if they tell him or her that they’re more comfortable living with their dad, you might be able to get full custody.” He’s still quiet, so you press on. “I know you don’t want them being too involved in it, but it might be worth it if it means they get to be with you.”

Eddie caresses your cheek, a smile spreading across his face. “How do you always do this?”

“Do what?”

“Make me happy. Make me realize that everything will be okay.” He kisses your forehead lightly before yawning, finally able to relax. “I fuckin’ love you, baby. Sweet dreams.”

Waking up next to Eddie is the best feeling in the world. And he wasn’t lying about his morning…situation. You can feel his hard length pressing up against your thigh as he softly snores. You know you should probably wait until your first official date, but you haven’t stopped craving him since your last time together, back at the auto shop. Before you can stop yourself, you’re kissing his neck, the slight stubble that’s formed overnight scratching your cheek.

“Hey, sugar,” he murmurs sleepily. “What’s gotten into you, hm?”

“Missed you,” you manage, wrapping your leg around his so they’re intertwined.

He chuckles, voice groggy and deeper than usual. “Missed me? ‘M right here.” His eyebrows shoot up when you reach down and gently graze his morning wood. “Oh, shit,” he hisses, “baby, if you touch me there…”

“I know,” you say between kisses. “I want you to. Please.”

Eddie’s fingertips dig into your side. “Y’know I can’t turn you down when you beg for me like that,” he growls, hooking a finger into the waistband of your lace panties and tugging them off. Before you can ask him for more, he’s diving beneath the sheets, bringing his lips to your inner thighs, alternating between kissing, sucking, and biting.

“St-stop teasing me, Eds,” you whimper. He’s so fucking close to where you need him to be, yet too far away. You can see the outline of his head as he gives a little nod, plunging between your legs. He licks a stripe up your folds, breathing heavily as he tastes you.

“You’re fuckin’ delicious,” he says, words vibrating along your core. “Could eat this pussy for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, shit.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you say, one hand fisting your sheet as Eddie’s tongue licks up another stripe. The other hand snakes its way into his messy curls, and he moans when you pull his hair.

He brings his lips to your clit and sucks on it, grinning as he senses you writhing against him. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” he teases, slipping a finger inside your aching sex.

“Fuck, Eddie,” you whine, trying not to buck up your hips, but your efforts are fruitless. Eddie’s on a mission to make you come as many times as he possibly can, and he’s making no attempt to hide it. You feel a second thick finger enter your pussy, stretching you slightly. His fingers pump in and out of you, his tongue keeping a relentless pace on your clit. The overstimulation from his mouth and hand pushes you over the edge, and you cry out his name over and over as you finish.

Eddie throws the sheet over his head, grinning widely. His chin is covered in your slick, and he wears it proudly. “That’s one,” he announces. “Ready for another?”

“Y-Yes, please.”

“Y’ask so nice for me, babe.”

Blushing at his sweet words, you turn your head to hide your face in your pillow. Eddie tuts and gently tugs your chin until you’re looking up at him again. He chuckles at your shy look, leaning down to press slow kisses along your throat.

“I love you, baby,” he mumbles against your skin.

“I love you too, Eddie.” You feel his hips align with yours, and your jaw drops open at the pleasurable stretch as he begins to push inside of you.

“Shit,” Eddie groans. “Missed your tight little pussy.”

Your fingers clutch at his back, nails sure to leave some raised pink scratches by the time you’re done. “S’big,” you moan. “Don’t know if I can take it all.”

“You can,” he reassures you, going in deeper until he bottoms out. “You’re gonna take it all f’me. ‘M gonna fill you up s’good. Just please, gotta let me move, baby doll.” His eyes are pleading, desperate to rut up inside you.

“Can move, Eddie,” you say, nodding your head. The words have barely left your lips before he’s withdrawing, just to thrust back into you. A gasp leaves your lips as he fills you to the hilt again. It may have only been about a week since you’d slept together, but it felt like an eternity without having him inside of you.

“Love you,” you say in between moans, and Eddie’s hips pick up the pace at your words.

“Love you, too. Fuck, baby, you keep saying that and this isn’t going to last as long as I want it to.” He huffs a breathy laugh and rests his forehead against yours.

“That a challenge?” you ask with a smirk.

“Uh uh,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “M’gonna make you come over and over.” As if to prove his point, he slips two fingers into your mouth, putting pressure on your tongue. “Get ‘em nice and wet for me, baby. I know what that pretty mouth can do.”

Slipping your eyes closed, you swirl your tongue around his fingers, moaning around his thick digits. You open your eyes and meet Eddie’s dark gaze, his attention focused solely on your face as his hips keep snapping against yours. Once you release his fingers with a sharp pop, he brings them down to your clit, rubbing in a tight circle.

A whine escapes your lips as you throw your head back, neck arching and exposed to the man above you. Eddie leans in and attaches his lips to the side of your throat, sucking and biting at the skin, determined to leave you with a mark that won’t fade any time soon.

“Close, Eddie,” you say, hands coming up to tangle in his long curly locks again.

“Come on, baby,” Eddie urges. “Gimme another one.”

You do as he says, arching your back and wrapping your legs around the bottom of his ass and pulling him even deeper inside you. “‘M coming, all f’you.” He nods, slowing his pace slightly and allowing you to come down slightly.

“S’fucking beautiful when you come on my cock,” he muses. “Want one more from you. Can you handle that? Just one more?”

“One more,” you murmur, already fucked out from two back-to-back orgasms.

“Thas’ my good girl.”

“C-Come with me this time?” you ask, voice hoarse. Tears prick at your eyes, and you wipe them away before he can notice.

“Aww,” Eddie coos, “did I wear my girl out?”

His taunting lights a fire inside you, and you smirk. “Actually, I want you deeper.”

“Fuck,” he throws his head back, withdrawing from you. He chuckles darkly when you hiss at the loss. “The faster you get on your hands and knees, the faster I can be back inside you.”

Muscles weak and protesting the movement, you force yourself to ignore it and do as Eddie says. His hands grab your hips, rough calloused fingers running over your smooth skin.

“Mm, what a nice view,” Eddie admires as he removes one hand from your body to line his cock up with your hole. He teases you, sliding his length up and down your slit as you drop your head forward. Your whines only encourage him as he watches your hole flutter around nothing.

“Please, Eddie,” you beg.

“Anything for my needy girl,” Eddie says, and you don’t need to be looking at him to know there’s a smirk on his face. He slides back inside of you and your arms give out, upper body landing on your pillow. Your fingers scratch at your purple pillowcase as he slams into you. The repeated motion of his hips has the headboard banging against the wall and his heavy balls slapping against your clit.

“Fuck, baby,” you breathe out. “So deep. So, so deep.”

“Tell me how it feels, princess. How’s it make my girl feel?” Eddie’s hand grabs onto your ass and slides it up your back.

“So full,” you answer. “Love when you’re inside me.” The pressure of him against your walls has you clenching around his length. “Spank me, Eddie. I’ve been a bad girl.”

Eddie’s hips stutter; you’ve never caught him off-guard like this before. His palm meets your ass with a small whack, but it’s nothing compared to what you need.

“No, harder. You won’t hurt me.”

A string of swear words slips from his lips as he smacks the fat of your ass with more power, leaving a stinging print. “More?” But he can’t follow through before he stammers, “fuck—shit—‘m coming.” His dick twitches, and he moans as he finishes. “Come with me; want you to cream my cock while I fuck you full of me. Want you to take all my cum, thassagoodgirlfuckfuckfuck.” He spills into you, continuing to thrust. “Take it, take it all. So fuckin’ good f’me, taking all my cum. Bet you want me to knock you up, don’t you?” The words leave his mouth before he can catch them.

The thought of having Eddie’s baby normally makes you feel all kinds of ways; imagining him tenderly kissing your bump or staring at your newly-larger breasts in awe. It’s all pretend for now, at least until you graduate.

Thank God for birth control, you think. But then your whole body freezes up.

In all of last night’s excitement, you’d forgotten to take your pill.

“Shit!” you cry out, pulling away from him. But it’s too late; you can feel his release dripping down your leg. You turn to him, misty-eyed, and explain the situation.

“Don’t cry, pretty girl,” Eddie smiles, laying down and motioning for you to snuggle into his chest. “Would it be so bad? Having my baby?”

You shake your head. “I-I want your baby,” you admit, “but I gotta get my degree, get a job…” You gaze up at him incredulously. “You really mean it when you say you wanna get me pregnant? It’s not just dirty talk?”

Eddie laughs, putting his arm around you and pulling you closer. “Baby, if you only knew how many times I’ve gotten off thinkin’ about knocking you up…” He clicks his tongue. “Turns me on so…damn…bad…” he muses, punctuating the last three words with kisses to your neck.

“Easy there; you just wore me out,” you giggle. “We should be okay. I can take two now, and I’m just a few days from getting my period.” You laugh harder when he frowns. “Don’t tell me you’re grossed out by periods!”

“No, but we can’t…y’know, practice making a baby while…” he pouts, and you tuck his hair behind his ears.

“I don’t mind a little mess if you don’t,” you shrug. “Besides, orgasms help with cramps.”

His eyes light up. “Consider me your personal heating pad, then.”

You roll your eyes and swing your legs out of bed. “C’mon, we promised the boys we’d take them to the park.”

Eddie groans, overdramatically, and holds his hands over his heart as if he’s been shot. “You found it, baby. Literally the only thing that could get me out of bed with you.”

This time when you roll your eyes, there’s a fond smile on your face as well. “I’m sure the boys would be glad to know that they’re prioritized over getting laid.”

“Well, first of all,” Eddie says as he scoops up his boxers from where they’d be kicked on the floor. “It’s not just getting laid. It’s having sex with you. Totally different, we’re making love now. Officially!” His face radiates joy as he jumps around, sliding his boxers up. “Because, you know, you said you love me and all. Remember that?”

Turning around from where you were digging some underwear out of your drawer, you put your hands on Eddie’s chest and smile up at him, placatingly. “I do remember. And I remember you saying you love me too. But the boys are still more important.”

Eddie laughs and presses a kiss to your hair. “They’ll understand when they’re older.”

Playfully, you shove him off of you, which only makes him grab you around the waist and pull you up against his body. You’re squealing as you try to get away from him, to collect your clothes for the day. But, unable to shake him, you settle for him helping you get dressed.

“Can I stay here until the Harrington quarantine is lifted?” he asks, suddenly shy.

You wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your chest to his. “Baby, you can stay here forever.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #AYW #AYWs #older!eddie #babysitter!reader

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undercoveravenger · 7 months

Text

Intoxication

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Male!Reader

Requested: Yes

Request: “love potion mix-up with Billy Hargrove??”

A/N: Happy Spooky Month everyone! Here's the first post for the 2023 Spooky Month event - the next post will be dropping on Tuesday, October 10th. Hope you enjoy!

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Things had been strange ever since the arrival of Billy Hargrove and his little sister, Max.

Well, things in Hawkins had been weird for a lot longer than that, especially since you and your best friend Steve had befriended the group of misfit kids that called themselves “the Party”. They’d introduced the two of you to a secret side of Hawkins, where magic and curses and strange creatures ran amok. One of the kids, a girl named Eleven, was able to control objects with her mind and see beyond what was there. Another, Will, was psychic and could connect to other planes of existence. Dustin had a way of knowing how things fit together before anyone else could even guess. Steve’s coworker from Scoops Ahoy, Robin, was a witch. And now, Max and her brother. Werewolves, if what Lucas had told you was to be believed.

But you really couldn’t bring yourself to care much about Billy Hargrove. Not when so much of his life seemed to be spent antagonizing your best friend and trying to disrupt your comfortable station within the school’s hierarchy, seemingly dead set on turning your life upside down. Even at stupid parties like this one, you could hear people chanting Billy’s name while he faced off against Steve in a match of beer pong somewhere deeper in the house while you try to coax the sticker-covered flask away from Robin in the kitchen.

“Robs, babe,” you murmur, sidling up beside her and leaning back against the kitchen island, “I think Vickie likes you already. I know it’s scary to risk rejection, but a love potion isn’t the solution here.”

Robin nods slowly to herself, but her fingers don’t loosen around the metal. “But what if I can’t do it?”

You cock your head, smiling as she meets your eyes. “But isn’t asking her and knowing better than using that and not knowing how she really feels?”

It takes a moment of consideration, but your friend nods, setting the flask on the chipped marble countertop.

“It’s more of an enhancer than-” Robin starts and it’s clear that you’re about to get one of Robin’s infamous lectures on the science of magic when she is cut off by someone snatching the flask from its place in front of the two of you.

“Aww, so sweet of you to have my next drink ready for me,” Billy Hargrove leers at you, unscrewing the cap of the flask even as his usual infuriating smirk slips over his lips, pretty blue eyes fixed on yours in with that intense, holier-than-thou look he always had. Just because he was tall and handsome and had pretty eyes and hair that you kind of want to curl your fingers into and use to pull him closer to shut him up with a kiss, doesn’t mean he could do anything but irritate you by looking at you like he knew something he wasn’t willing to share.

Your heart lurches in your chest as he raises the flask, you know you have to at least try to stop him, especially since Robin seems so stunned you’re not entirely sure she could say anything at all.

“Probably don’t wanna drink that, Hargrove,” you say, reaching out just in time to catch his wrist. “Might end up with something worse than a hangover.”

Billy leans forward against the counter, using his other forearm to prop himself up, raising an eyebrow pointedly as he looks at your hand, holding tight around his wrist, before his eyes shift up to meet yours. “You threatenin’ me?”

A derisive snort escapes you, and you gesture subtly for Robin to make her escape. The last thing you’d want is for Billy to figure out she had anything to do with whatever happens if he’s stubborn enough to drink the potion and start targeting her once it wears off. She catches your hint and mumbles an excuse about finding Steve, disappearing quickly into the crowd.

“Of course not,” you say, releasing him and holding your hands up placatingly. Sure, you didn’t really want to spend longer than necessary around Billy Hargrove, but you wanted to spend time with a pissed off Billy Hargrove even less. “Just think it probably wouldn’t be something you would like, so I was just hoping to get it back,” you reached for it as you spoke, leaning across the island yourself to try to make a grab for the flask.

Billy snatches it away, taking a long gulp from the mouth of the flask, grinning at you all the while. He pulls a face, but doesn’t wince the way one might at the burn of alcohol, but you can see the moment the look in his eyes starts to shift and the realization hits you with all the weight of a semi-truck.

Billy Hargrove had just taken a love potion while looking right at you. Billy Hargrove was about to be convinced that you were the love of his life.

“Well,” you say, eyes flickering around to look anywhere but at Billy, “I should really be going.” You push back upright, swiftly turning to make your way out the back door of the house and starting off down the sidewalk in the direction of your own home before Billy could speak. You don’t make it far before you realize you’re being followed, the scuff of Billy’s worn leather boots giving him away as he trails behind you.

“You’re not as stealthy as you think you are,” you call back over your shoulder, pace remaining steady even as Billy speeds up to walk beside you.

“Wasn’t tryin’ to be,” he drawls, lips quirking up into something softer than his usual sneer. “Just walkin’.”

You study him for a long moment. “Didn’t you drive to the party? Surprised you’d leave your precious Camaro behind.”

“I’ve been drinking,” he shrugs, clearly trying to appear nonchalant. “Drunk driving’s dangerous, y’know.” He’s quiet for a minute and you find yourself almost wondering what he’s thinking.

“You don’t have to walk me home if that’s what this is,” you say, shoving your hands in your pockets and focusing your eyes on the way the lights on the stoplight a few blocks down flicker. “Steve already made me promise to call him when I get home.”

Billy huffs and he almost seems to be pouting when you glance over at him. “Don’t see why you’re with that loser in the first place. ‘s not good enough for you anyway.”

His words shock you enough that your steps falter and you have to turn to face him to see if he’s joking or not. Billy looks more serious than you’ve ever seen him, steely blue eyes fixed firmly on you.

You have to fumble for words for a minute, the first thing you’re able to force out being a weak protest. “Steve’s not a loser!” Then the rest of his words catch up to you, “And he’s just my best friend, anyways.”

Billy seems to brighten at that, a more genuine smile crossing his lips than you’d ever seen before. “So,” he says, moving toward you slowly. The dull orange glow of the streetlights makes his hair shine almost copper and his eyes flash that distinct werewolf silver as he stalks toward you, gently herding you backward until your back is pressed to the brick wall of some long-closed business and Billy’s in front of you, arms caging you in on either side. On any other day, you might’ve felt claustrophobic- trapped and threatened by someone determined to fuck up your life. But today- with that love drunk look in Billy's eyes and that fond grin on his face, you were hesitantly pleased with your position. "If you're not with Harrington," Billy starts, leaning just a bit closer, until you can almost feel the breath of his words against your lips, "Does that mean you're available to go out with me on Friday?"

Part of you is tempted to say yes- to give in to this sweet, intoxicating side of Billy and let this go as far as he wants to take it- but the rest of you knows that what's happening is wrong.

You press a hand to Billy’s chest, pushing him back enough to give yourself some breathing room.

"I would, but this isn't real, Billy." You force yourself to say, "You drank a love potion tonight- this- you don't mean any of this."

Billy laughs then, full and unrestrained and the most genuine you've ever heard him be. "That shit doesn't work on werewolves. Metabolism’s too fast for it to really do much of anything," he says, grin unable to be helped even as his laughter subsides. "And even if it did, the stuff that your buddy whipped up just makes feelings that's already there easier to act on."

You blink, the pressure you'd been using to keep Billy at bay slacking as you think through what he'd said. If he hadn't been affected by Robin’s potion then-

Billy nudges closer, slipping his arms around your middle and tucking his face against the side of your neck. "The reason I was always so shitty to Harrington is that I was jealous," he murmurs softly, and you can feel the way he grins just a little wider as you start to relax against him, "I wanted to have people look at me like they look at him. I wanted to have you look at me like I was him."

You can’t help the way your hands come up to curl around him too, the way your fingers curl into his shirt, or the way you press just a bit closer to him. You can’t help the answering grin from carving its way across your cheeks at the thought of how pleased Billy seems to be at being the center of your attention, but you also can’t stop those few little questions from itching away inside your mind.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” The thought escapes you almost unbidden, before you can second-guess yourself, and you can’t help but keep talking. “Why didn’t you ask me out? Or- or just say hi? Something other than-” you gesture vaguely back in the direction of the party.

The tired sigh that escapes him makes it clear he knows you’re talking about his grudge against Steve and all the drama he’s stirred up for the two of you.

“It’s-” he has to pause and think over his words for a moment before he can continue. “My experience with love is… complicated. My mom died when I was little and my dad- he changed after that. Got mean. Angry.” He swallows hard, pulling away far enough to look at you, to really look at you. “He made it clear that he expected pretty specific behavior from me and anything that didn’t meet that wasn’t… good for me. Liking a guy- well, that was pretty far from what he’d expect.” His hands drop from your sides and he steps back a bit, arms crossing over his chest like he’s trying to distance himself from his thoughts. “So I was rude and sarcastic and I was mean to Harrington because at least that kept me in your peripheral.” He meets your eyes again, bright and open and honest in the orange glow of the streetlights, “But I don’t want to just be in your peripheral anymore.”

With all of what he'd said playing through your mind, finding the right words is proving difficult. "If we’re gonna try this, you've gotta leave Steve alone," you start finally, heart squeezing with more fondness than you're ready to admit as you watch the realization of what you mean starts to sink in and a million-watt smile pulls at Billy’s lips. "And Robin and the kids, too.”

A giddy laugh escapes Billy and he takes your hand in his, tugging you back down the street in the direction the two of you had been walking. “That’s a deal I’d make a thousand times over,” he says, grinning brightly as he walked with you, fingers intertwined with yours, hands swinging easily between the two of you.

Conversation flows easily as the two of you walk and you’re more at peace with Billy now than you could ever remember being with any of your exes, he insists on walking you home no matter how many times you tell him he doesn’t need to.

“Go out with me on Friday?” He says as the two of you stop at the foot of your driveway. “We could go for a picnic or to the drive-in if you want?”

When he’s looking at you like that, you can’t help but agree, quickly finding yourself more and more excited about your pending date.

Billy kisses your hand before he lets go, stepping back as you turn away from him and head for your house.

Billy smiles to himself as he watches you make your way up the driveway, keeping watch until you're safely inside, before turning and heading off in the direction of his own home. No, he knew he'd never have needed that love potion- not when it came to you. Billy Hargrove had been intoxicated by you since the first time he met you and he knows that isn't going to change any time soon.

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