#he misses his parents and sister so much sob sob | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xxblairexxss · 9 months

Text

Ice cream date

Theme : Fluff

Thank you so much for your request, anon! 🩷🫶🏻 A short break from angst before I start writing for another angst request! I loveeeee writing for dad!charles soo adorable! 🥹

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Charles?” You tilted your head to your side once your husband picked up the call.

“Yes, honey?”

You looked back facing your nail lady and pointed at the pastel lavender colour before bringing your phone back to your ear. “Can you pick up your little daughter from the daycare today? I don’t think my nail appointment would end in 15 minutes.”

“Yeah, of course. Don’t worry about her. Enjoy your day out with your friends, okay?Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you, honey! I love you!” You ended the call and went back picking different charms for your new nails.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Dada!”

“Hey, baby! I missed you.” Charles crouched down and picked up his baby girl into his arms and nodded as an act of acknowledgement and gratitude to the daycare worker as he turned away to make their way to the car.

“Sir, may I have a word with you?” He turned back and raised his brow in question to the sudden interference.

“Yeah? Yeah, sure. Is there anything wrong?”

Charles was told how his little girl was caught scribbled on her classmate’s notebook using her crayons. The notebook was actually used for kids and tutors for daily activities which required paper and pencils. Not only did his little girl scribbled on her classmate’s notebook, she also shred a few pages.

“We left the children a few minutes and came back to see the other student crying. And this is what she did.” She handed him the proof of crime and Charles was astounded. He had to continuously apologise on behalf of his daughter while Y/D/N kept on hugging his neck and giggling in his arms, completely oblivious to the informal parent-teacher meeting.

“Dada, I want choco this time!” She squealed in her car seat, elated for her daddy and daughter ice-cream date which had become a ritual every time Charles picked her up.

“No ice cream this time, baby.”

“Eh? Why? But, dada, I want ice-cream!” She stopped clapping her hands and caught Charles’s gaze on her through the rear view mirror.

“You were not a good girl today so you don’t get ice cream. We are going home and there’ll be no movie night for you too.” Charles saw she jutted her bottom lips out and whimpered.

“Did you say sorry to your friend?” Charles looked back into the rearview mirror and saw she was wiping her tears off with her arms. “Baby, dada’s asking you. Did you say sorry?”

She didn’t reply as she kept on sobbing but she actually nodded to his question but Charles didn’t catch that so he thought she was ignoring him.

“No cartoon after this and go straight to your room. I’m telling mommy what you did today and she will scold you even more.” He had always been very gentle with her before she was even born. He never had a sister nor any girls from his family members. When you told him you were pregnant with a girl, you knew right away he would make her the centre of his world.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

When you came home, Charles was in the bathroom while your daughter was nowhere to be seen. You usually would always came home with your husband and daughter cuddling on the couch watching Disney movies.

“Baby?” You had found her in her room with puffy eyes. Sitting on her little bed, you brushed her hair away from her face and she hugged your middle. “Who made you cry?” You cupped on her chubby cheeks and softly rubbed your thumbs across her cheekbone, wiping the freshly tears away.

“Dada hates me…”

“Who said that? He loves you so much, baby.”

She ended up telling you everything that happened, which made her cry again and you had to continuously wiped her tears and told her it was fine. You had learnt that she was upset because she was looking forward to her little ice cream date and was turned down by her dad without being told why. She was upset because she had never seen her daddy being so mad at her and she didn’t understand why.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“I missed you.”

You were making dinner when Charles hugged you from behind and you could smell the scent of lavender from his shower gel when he dropped trail of kisses on your neck.

“Did you get into a fight with your other girlfriend?”

“What?” He broke the hug and went to your side, leaning against the kitchen counter with a frown. “Did she complain to you? Honey, she ruined her classmate’s notebook. How can I not ground her.” He stole a slice of mango that you were cutting and you slapped his hand away.

“Did you actually ask her what happened?” You raised your brows when he looked dubious to the questions.

“Did she tell you what actually happened?”

“Yeah, she did. And I think you are in trouble this time, honey.” You took a slice of mango and put it in your mouth, chewing it while looking very thrilled meanwhile your husband looked like he was going through every single possibilities in his head.

“Oh! Hi baby! Are you hungry?” You exclaimed when your little girl approached your little time with your husband with her fluffy friend, Mr. Boo.

“Baby, do you want to set the table with dada? Like always?” He crouched down and stretched his arms, expecting her little girl to come running as she usually did but she didn’t. She went to your side instead and hugged your leg, struggling a little when Mr. Boo almost slipped off her little arms.

“Oh, shit.”

“Language, Charles!” You glowered at him. “Baby, let daddy set the table alone while you helped me stir the soup, alright?” You picked her up as she shrieked with laughter, leaving a peck on your cheek and tried to grasped on the ladle, completely ignoring your husband.

“Can I get a kiss too, baby?” Charles went to her side and leaned in to kiss but she quickly turned her head away, hiding her face in your neck. “Honey, help me here.”

“Don’t involve me.”

Charles didn’t get a kiss and he stopped asking when your daughter got into a fit crying as she got annoyed from the constant bugging. When she walked to the dining table, Charles pulled the chair by his side, as she usually wanted to sit by her daddy but this time, she went straight to your side. You had to hold your laugh seeing your husband looked defeated with the constant ignoring game.

“Baby, say ah!” He cut the steak into a smaller piece and stretched out his arm that was holding the fork to feed his little girl but she shook her head without looking at him.

“No thank, dada.”

“Wow, I just got rejected over and over. Honey, can you–“ You shook your head without letting him to finish his questions.

“I can’t help you, Charles. Serve you right.”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

You had left your little girl alone in the living room while she got busy munching on her animal shaped biscuits as you went to the kitchen to hug your husband from the back while he was washing the dishes, your head leaned against his body.

“Did she make you upset, honey?”

You heard him heaved a sigh which made you chuckle. “You are so silly. Just go and apologise, she’ll be fine.”

“Flirting you was way easier. Ouch!” He winced when you slapped him on his back. “Honey, she’s 2! Where did learn how to sulk like a literal teenage girl?”

“She probably learned it from me.” You leaned away when he turned his body around as he properly engulfed you back in his arms.

“Why did you teach her these bad things. Where is she, anyway?” Charles slanted forward to try to look for Y/D/N and you pulled his face closer to peck on his cheek.

“She’s eating her snacks. Go and talk to her, baby. I don’t think she’s still cranky.”

“Wish me luck.” He tilted your chin and brushed his lips on yours, patting your bum as he left the kitchen.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Hi, baby. Can I get one?”

Her small hand was in a fist, full from grabbing the biscuits along with her little chubby cheeks. When Charles took a seat by her side and asked for one, she was contemplating, her other hand opening and closing as she looked on her little plate back to her dad. Once she came to a decision, she took two pieces of the biscuits and handed it to him.

“Can you feed daddy instead?”

She lifted up her hand and put the biscuits into his mouth, giggling when Charles tried to chomp on her hands.

“Are you still mad at daddy?”

“Not much. A little bit, I think. Is dada still mad at me?” She pinched her chubby fingers together and scrunched her nose while answering the question.

“Daddy’s not mad at you, baby. I’m sorry, okay? Can you forgive me?” He swept off the crumbs on her cheeks with his hand as she put another biscuits into her mouth.

“My friend ruined my book first, dada.” She wept the back of her hand against her cheeks and Charles immediately leaned in to stole a peck on her cheek. She looked like a little chipmunk, he couldn’t not kiss those little face.

“What else did your friend did, baby?”

“She threw my book away and I was upset so I did bad things back to her. But I said sorry to her.” Charles’s heart was swollen with guilt when he saw her little pout.

“Next time, don’t do that to others. Just let daddy knows if someone’s being mean to you, okay? Are we good now, baby?”

“I think so.” She wiped off her hands once she was done eating and grinned. “I finished!”

“Can daddy get a hug?” She pushed her little chair back to move closer to her dad and wrapped her arms around his neck. Charles stood up with her in his arms and began attacking her face with kisses, making her laughed.

“Oh? You guys are back to best friends now, I see.”

“Mama!” She ducked down and pecked on your cheek as Charles pulled you closer by his freehand.

“You got crumbs all over your face, darling. Did daddy say sorry already?” You brushed off the leftover crumbs on her face and fixed her bangs.

“Yeah, dada said sorry to me.”

“Dada owe you an ice cream date, right, baby?” You poked on his waist, causing him to twitch.

“I want chocolate ice cream!” She squealed with exhilaration, causing both you and Charles to chortle.

“Can mommy come too?”

Charles shook his head immediately and turned your daughter away. “Mommy can’t come. It’s only for us, right?”

“That’s mean!” You scowled and slapped on his arm.

✧.* tags! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @aundercover

please let me know if you would like to be removed or added in the tag list!

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagines #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

1K notes · View notes

birdiewriteslit · 4 months

Note

Hi ! I just love your writing ! ❤️ Also, I was wondering if you could write a story in which the reader is Thalia’s sister and dating Luke. The reader always thought that Luke liked Thalia and thinks that Luke only dates her because she reminds him of Thalia. She shares her doubts with Annabeth who tries to comfort her and Luke overhears their conversation. Then Luke talks to the reader about it reassuring he loves her for her and it’s all fluffy. Also, to add little angst, the reader has been traumatized by Thalia’s “transformation” and beats herself up thinking that it’s her fault that her sister is a tree.

thank you so much! sure, i can do this!!

luke castellan x daughter of zeus!reader

warnings: angst, self doubt, trauma, fluff at the end

sorry if this is bad i haven’t written angst in a hot minute

Your memory of the day you arrived at camp was still as vivid as it was when it happened. You, Grover, Annabeth, Luke, and your little sister were on the run from a horde of monsters, all of them attracted to the strong scent of the daughters of Zeus.

You were sprinting up the hill, breath ragged. Luke, Annabeth, and Grover were ahead of you. “We’re almost there!” Grover shouted. “Just keep running!”

You were exhausted, running for days with no help from any of your godly parents, but you had to keep going.

You looked back to make sure Thalia hadn’t fallen behind, but she had her shield up, showing Medusa’s face to the monsters that were catching up.

“We can’t outrun them!” she yelled. “I can slow them down, go on without me!”

Thalia started to run toward the monsters, but you grabbed her arm. “I can’t let you go. We can make it, please try to keep going.”

“I have to! Aegis will keep them at bay for a little while. It’s me they’re following,” she reasoned, her eyes stormy and unyielding.

“Thalia, don’t. They want me too. I’ll go instead, I won’t let you die for me,” you proposed desperately.

“You’re always doing things for me, let me do this for you. Let me repay my big sister.” She pulled her arm out of your grasp and turned to run at the monsters before you could stop her.

“Come on!” Grover yelled from the top of the hill, Annabeth and Luke now far in front of him. “They’re catching up!”

“I’m not leaving her!” you protested. Grover met you in the middle and grabbed hold of your arm, practically dragging you to camp as you shouted several curses at him. “Let me go!”

“I can’t. My mission is to get you across that border, and I’m not letting two of you die for the rest of us.” Grover was gritting his teeth, struggling to keep hold of you as you made it across the boundary.

You watched in horror as Thalia jabbed with her spear and missed, the Fury’s whip coming down hard and hitting her over the head, knocking her to the ground. She didn’t get up.

The biggest lightning bolt you’d ever seen struck the ground, sending the hellhounds into a panic. The monsters retreated, half victorious, as they only managed to kill one of you.

From the place where Thalia died, a large pine was growing rapidly out of the ground, and a magical force field spread across the woods, strengthening the border you just crossed.

Luke grabbed your shoulder, forcing you to turn away from the scene. His eyes were cast to the ground. He couldn’t look. “Come on,” he said, his voice breaking.

You walked past the strawberry fields with Luke’s arm around your shoulders keeping you stable. You couldn’t say anything. You knew that if you did, you would break down.

Annabeth was sobbing beside Grover, who was leading the three of you to the Big House, where Chiron stood on the porch, looking solemn. You weren’t even shocked by his centaur form. The image of Thalia’s body hitting the ground was still replaying in your mind.

You woke with a start, sweating profusely and breathing heavily. Five years later, and you still had nightmares like this. It was always the same scene over and over. You could never escape that night.

You slowly sat up in your bed, pulling the covers back and placing your feet on the cold marble floor. You rubbed at your eyes, sighing as you knelt at your father’s statue in the middle of the cabin.

You never shared this space with Thalia, but you missed her like you had. Sometimes you would dream of her and you when you were small, and you would expect to wake up and see her asleep on the other side of the room.

You stared into the reflecting pool around the statue, barely recognizing who was looking back at you. The girl in the water was tired, and she looked like she hadn’t slept in days.

Looking up at your father’s carved face, you felt that familiar feeling of resentment. He had never helped you. When you were on the run, the only gift he gave was weapons for you and Thalia to defend yourselves with.

After you were claimed, it was like you never existed to him. He never answered your prayers, and he was never there for you when you needed him.

When you needed help facing Ladon on Luke’s quest, he was absent from the sky. You were forced to return to camp, two failures who learned to never rely the gods for help.

Luke was the only one you could relate to in that way. After that quest, you thought of each other differently. Finding that common ground changed your friendship into something more.

Sometimes you wondered if Luke saw Thalia when he looked at you. There would be moments where he would look at you like your sister was staring back, and he would get this sad glint in his eyes.

You certainly didn’t see her in your reflection. You’d looked for so long to find something that reminded you of her, but you could never find something good.

You had an aggression problem, which was about the only thing about you that resembled your sister. The only people you got along with were your boyfriend, Annabeth, and Grover.

Everybody at camp stayed clear of you anyways, as they were afraid of what you might do to them. Of course, you were more powerful than the others, and they were scared of that.

The day was off to a rough start. You were fifteen minutes late for breakfast, and when you entered the pavilion, heads turned. You were used to getting stared at, so you were able to ignore it.

You ate by yourself, keeping your head down. After breakfast, your first activity of the day was Ancient Greek with Annabeth.

You were reading out a boring passage to her when she stopped you at the end of a paragraph. “Are you having nightmares again?” she asked tentatively.

You looked up from the book. “Why do you ask?”

“You were late to breakfast. You’ve been looking so tired this past week. I’m worried. Luke’s worried. He says you’ve been distant,” she analyzed.

You sighed. “Yeah, I’ve been having them again. It’s the same as it’s always been.” You rubbed your hands over your tired eyes. “I can’t get it out of my head.”

“You haven’t told Luke?”

“No, I don’t want to stress him out. Besides, he probably sees enough of Thalia in me. Honestly, I think that’s why he’s with me. We all lost her that night, and he just needs something to remind him of her,” you confessed gloomily, picking at the corners of the pages.

Annabeth raised her eyebrows in surprise. “What are you talking about? Luke has liked you as long as I’ve known you. Thalia meant a lot to him, but you’re different from her. You mean something different to him.”

“Do you really think that’s why I’m with you?” Luke said, rounding the corner of the porch and making himself known. He had a hurt expression on his face.

“I’ll leave you alone,” Annabeth said awkwardly, standing up from her chair and hurrying away from the Big House.

“Luke, I-“

“I’m sorry to eavesdrop, but you can’t really think that.” He sat down next to you and pulled your hands away from the book pages. “Annabeth’s right, I’ve liked you forever. Thalia was like a little sister to me. The only time you remind me of her is when you get angry, and I’m not with you because of your anger,” he reassured, trying to make you believe him.

“Why are you with me?” Your voice came out small, and you were afraid of what he would say.

He shook his head, taking your face in his hands. “So many reasons. You’re smart, brave, and resourceful. You’re strong and beautiful. Honestly, you could name anything you don’t like about yourself and I promise you that I would love you regardless.”

“Do you mean that?”

“Yes,” he said sincerely.

You took a deep breath, ready to be honest with him. “In my nightmares, I see us on the night Thalia died. I see the moment she slipped away from me and I left her to fight on her own. I’m such a bad sister,” you admitted, voice breaking a little.

Luke looked pained at your words. His thumb was quick to wipe away a tear that had fallen. “What happened wasn’t your fault. Thalia was stubborn, once she got an idea in her head she wouldn’t let it go. You know that. If we let you go too, we would’ve lost you both. We couldn’t risk that.”

You were silent, taking in his reasoning and knowing that he was right. You leaned forward and kissed his lips softly. “Thank you, Luke,” you said quietly, resting your forehead against his.

“Of course.” He pushed a stray hair behind your ear. “Do you want me to sleep in your cabin tonight?”

“Yes, please.”

“Alright.” Luke pulled away and smiled at you. “What do you say we go zap some Dionysus kids in the strawberry fields?”

“That sounds like a great idea.” You grinned, already feeling much better.

#birdiewriteslit #birdiewritesfics #luke castellan #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan x reader #pjo #pjo series #pjo tv show #annabeth chase #thalia grace #daughter of zeus #pjo disney+#pjo fanfic #percy jackson fanfic

398 notes · View notes

number-onekidqueen · 3 months

Text

The Seven Times Luke Castellan Said 'I Love You'

Luke Castellan x Apollo!fem!reader

Pure angst.

3.7k words

Warnings: death, injury, insecurities, bad parenting, spoilers for Percy Jackson book series.

One.

Luke must’ve been four the first time he ever said those three words.

He’d been at preschool, and it was the second week. He’d missed mommy. He felt different to all the other kids, and there were all these really scary faces that kept popping out of bushes that no one else could see. His mommy had picked him up early when the preschool called, and taken him home to a surprise. She’d baked his favourite: choc chip cookies, and he was even allowed to drink Kool-Aid too!

“I love you, mommy!!” He’d mumbled, while he stuffed his little mouth with the baked goods, in a sugary daze.

It made him feel so much better, knowing at least he had mommy to always come home to and rely on.

If only that had been true.

Two.

He was 9 when he said that sentence for the second time.

Mom wasn’t there for him anymore.

He was scared to go to school and leave her alone, because every time he got home, she would be insane. It’s like she wasn’t there with him anymore.

She would scream so loud and her eyes would be bright green, and she’d shake him and cry, wailing about how he was going to die. Usually it would make him so disturbed he’d run into his bedroom and lock the door, hoping she wouldn’t follow.

She always did.

It was when she started to pound on his door, begging him to come out, that he’d begin to sob, shaking in fright.

He’d pray and pray to his dad in desperate tears, asking and asking him to bless his mom, to free her from this curse and to make her better again. It didn’t ever stop.

She’d still make cookies, sometimes, but she’d forget about them and leave them in for so long they’d always be burnt to cinders. She’d serve Kool-Aid too, but he’d grown out of it.

Eventually, he couldn’t stand it anymore. His mom wasn’t getting better, but worse. Her fits were getting more frequent, and Luke’s dad wasn’t doing anything to help him.

Luke couldn’t stay here a second longer.

“I love you, mum,” he whispered to her curled figure on the couch, a full backpack on his shoulder and all his childhood allowance in his pockets as he softly closed the door.

He knew they’d be better off without each other.

Three.

Luke was fourteen when he said that phrase for the third time.

He’d finally found his family.

Sure, it hurt to think of his mother, all alone in his old house, but he had two amazing, brave and funny sisters to make up for that.

Until he didn’t.

It was all such a blur.

One second, they’d just been meeting some satyr by the name of Grover, who claimed to be their protector, a safeguard back to a camp for kids like them.

They’d been on the journey, he, Thalia, Annabeth, wondering what it would be like when they got there, what would happen.

And then the cyclops had struck.

It had all gone too quickly from there. They’d been running madly, tripping through the forest scrub, their hearts pumping, their adrenaline pulsing, Grover yelling that the entrance to camp wasn’t far, that they’d be safe there and to keep going.

The cyclops was still gaining on them, and Luke was starting to feel an awful sense of dread.

Then Thalia - brave, amazing, stupid Thalia - had volunteered to fight the monster. She’d told them to run ahead, that she had the sucker and would be right behind them.

And Luke was scared and thinking of Annabeth and safety, and he agreed, he kept running.

He left her.

His sister.

He swore he blinked once, and then she was dying, crumpled on the dirt, bleeding out and groaning in pain, camp only an ironic few metres away.

None of them even had time to reach out a hand to help her before she turned golden, vanished into a great big pine tree.

Gone forever before he could say goodbye.

“I love you, Thalia,” he whispered that night, not caring that he was breaking curfew rules, getting too close to the dangerous outskirts of camp.

Not caring he was using present tense. He refused to say ‘loved.’

Because he would love Thalia forever.

Four

Luke was sixteen the fourth time he uttered those words.

After all his life he was finally at home.

He’d grown accustomed and comfortable with camp, accepting it as his home. Even though sometimes it was weird to be at a summer camp all year round, he found happiness in his new place, trying to forget about the bad things. Thalia. His mother.

He’d found peace in routine, and confidence. Chiron said he was becoming what would be the best swordsman Camp Half-Blood had seen in 300 years.

There were his friends and siblings. He had Chris and the Stolls, and all the other Hermes kids that made his cabin rowdy and feel homelike.

Then there was y/n, probably his best friend, an Apollo girl who’d healed him immediately after he got to camp and had been there for him since.

There were heaps of activities to keep him busy. Training. Capture the flag. Parties, when he was old enough.

It had been the second of one of the post-curfew parties Luke had been to, and he admitted he had drank too much. Far too much.

Things had got out of hand when an Ares boy had insulted you, someone who was lovely to everyone. He couldn’t really even remember what the boy had said, only that it enraged him and he’d only seen red after that.

It all sort of went downhill from there. He’d thrown a punch, received one, and the rest was a sweaty and jagged dance of thrown limbs.

And now he was here, replaying the events in his mind, sat on the bathroom floor of the Apollo cabin, you kneeling over him with a warm cloth. His fists clenched at the thought of that stupid boy again.

“Luke,” you whispered, and the thoughts disappeared. “Look at me so I can fix you up.”

He didn’t have to be asked twice. It gave him an excuse to openly stare at you. In this dim light, you were gorgeous. Your skin seemed to glow golden from within, which mirrored the bright warmth of your eyes, and the radiance of your hair that framed your face. It was bittersweet, making him happy yet sick with longing, especially in his drunken state, to think of how you weren’t his. I want you, he wanted to whisper. He nearly did.

“Thank you. You’re so good.” He said instead.

“I don’t know about that, but always. That’s what best friends are for,” you reassured, smiling.

His heart sank. He didn’t want you like a best friend. He wanted you to want him like he wanted you.

“Yeah,” he said offhandedly.

There was a long pause. Your touch was soft on the cuts all over him, and although it stung, it was worth it. It was finished all too soon except-

“I’m still hurt,” he tried to explain, but the words wouldn’t form, “like, my chest.”

“He got you there too? Through your shirt?”

“Yeah. Little sucker had a pocketknife and everything.”

“Ok,” you replied. The room stayed silent. Suddenly, he was confused.

“Um-“

“Yeah, sorry, I just zoned out, um-“

Your hands reached for him almost… shyly. Could it be possible that you were overthinking seeing him like this, flustered, also thinking about him like he was about you? It drew a grin to his face. He decided to play with you.

“You don’t have to treat me that delicately. I promise it doesn’t hurt that much.”

You gave a nervous laugh, your hands moving slightly faster as he lifted his arms.

And then it was time to gauge your reaction. Your eyes were certainly not on him, but his chest, and it almost seemed your cheeks had transitioned from golden to rosy. His grin turned into a smirk.

“I gather that stare is either in reaction to my amazing abs or really bad cut. Either way, take it all in,” he teased. It occurred to him later he would never have said anything remotely like this if he was sober.

“Haha, Castellan,” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes and continuing your job. But you were smiling.

Your features were even softer closer up. It took his breath away, and he couldn’t help the words that next escaped from the confines of his heart.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You froze, midway through finishing dabbing a cut. Your eyes looked up at his, his earnest, vulnerable irises. And then you looked down at his lips. And dropping the cloth, you took his face into your hands and kissed him. It was the most exhilarating, fantastic five seconds of his life. And then you pulled away, stepping back.

“There you go. That’s probably all you wanted, since you’re drunk. You’re-you’re healed now.” You stuttered out.

And he wanted to chase you, have another kiss, try to create a proper response to that, to why he loved you, but you’d ran away from him, and he didn’t want to be snooping through someone else’s cabin, even in his state.

He was left reeling in the moonlight, stumbling back to his cabin before the harpies found him. Once he was between the sheets, his mind muddled, he found it easy to fall asleep, the image and feel of you still in his mind.

He woke up the next day, baffled that his mind could come up with a dream so lifelike. Even mad that maybe a Hypnos kid has taken note of his crush and decided to create a dream like that as a prank. What assholes.

Because you would never kiss someone like him, he knew that.

Like ever.

Five

Luke was seventeen the fifth time he said that statement.

He hadn’t known things could get so much worse.

His father, finally acknowledging him after his claiming, had sent him on a quest. Sure, it was a reused quest from Heracles, but Luke knew just how glorified and contested quests were, and so he accepted happily, choosing two of the older and more experienced campers to assist him in retrieving the golden apples from the dragon.

You were a bit offended that he hadn’t chose you, and he had no explanation that he could offer you, save for a confession. It made for a parting laced with bitterness.

The quest started off fine, and they got to their destination smoothly, but it quickly went downhill from there.

Once they were in the garden, almost immediately the dragon was alerted of their presence. It began to attack, using quick, violent manoeuvres that were hard to keep up with for even the most experienced.

Too hard for one of his quest mates, who became food for the monster’s jaws. It was a sickening, gruesome sight that Luke could never wipe from his mind.

The other quest mate became injured soon after that, and then it was Luke on his own.

At that point, even he knew the quest was lost. He was just defending himself and trying to get out alive. And so he did, with a painful scar from eye to chin as a marking of his forever defeat against the dragon.

He returned as a failure.

He was wounded, with a permanent and ugly physical memory, one of his quest mates was dead, the other also mortally wounded, and their fingers hadn’t even grazed the golden flesh of the apples. He couldn’t even finish an already done quest.

Worse was the pity.

The moment he stepped past Thalia’s tree and into camp, all he received was pity. Quiet voices, soft glances, stopped conversations, permits, excuses.

It was as if he were the dragon, and they were afraid that if they did not tread lightly he may begin roaring flames at them.

He never did.

Just like y/n never treated him with pity.

Your eyes were objective, calculating as they surveyed his wounds. Of course your words were soft, but they always were, with your perfect bedside manner. In those moments where you treated him normally, he couldn’t appreciate you more.

Worst of all probably were the nightmares. He had one awful recurring one: he’d be back in that hellish garden, the dying screams of his dead quest mate and the roaring of the dragon in his ears, the adrenaline and chase all through him, and then every camper he’d ever known would appear, surround him and shake their heads, looking at him in pity and knowing he was a failure. They would chant it, and pelt burning rocks at him, and he would run, run, run, but he could never escape it.

He couldn’t bear it one hot late July night, and slipped away under the stars. He was always calmer there, where he could put himself and his feelings into perspective.

And that’s where y/n had found him, sitting on the dew-soaked grass with his knees loosely curled to his chest.

You didn’t say anything in the beginning, just sat there beside him, breathing, stargazing too.

“I’ve seen you come out here, every night this week.” You stated, finally looking over at him. “Are the nightmares that bad?”

He nodded, gulping down the fear and tears that submerged at the thought.

“You should’ve come to me, you know we have dreamless tonic at the infirmary-“

“Yeah I know. But I deserve it, don’t I?” He asked bitterly, turning to you, “I failed and so I get to live with the consequences. The nightmares.”

“No. No, of course not. You don’t have to face consequences-“

“But I do already, don’t I? I feel like I’m not even the same at all, like I’ll never be the same again. I’ve got this stupid, disgusting scar,” he spat, jabbing at his face, “as this reminder and I’ve got to live knowing I wasn’t ever good enough to succeed and my failure led to someone’s death.”

There was silence for a while, where you gazed at him, at his eyes.

“Stop blaming yourself,” you said softly, “I won’t let you.”

“I can’t help it though,” he whispered, voice cracking, “after training for so long and everyone telling me I’m the best swordsman, I couldn’t save someone, could barely defend myself. And now they’re dead, because of me. And every time I try and forget it- I look in the mirror and see this-this scar and-“

You scooted closer, and one of your hands laid over his.

“Your scar isn’t a symbol of failure. It should never be. It means you’re brave, that you survived that dragon-“ you reached for his face, and so, so gently began to run your index finger down his scar, “-that you’ve overcome all that horror and emerged stronger.”

You cupped his cheek after you finished tracing. His heart was racing.

“And you’re still the same to me. You’re still smart, funny, brave, handsome, strong. You’re still you. Don’t let anyone take that away.”

Your hand slowly drew away from his face, but he caught it, keeping you there.

And he stared.

Stared at this beautiful, golden girl who was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He could only think of three words.

“I love you,” he whispered to you, and he slowly leaned in.

You kissed, his hands in your silky hair and yours on his strong back, and this was the most effective healing Luke had ever had.

He knew at this moment that the best he would ever be was with you.

And that would be always, he hoped.

Six.

Luke was nineteen the next time he spoke from his heart.

Things were finally getting better, but they had a long way to go. Luke would be there to see the good change come through.

Camp was normal. Demigods died, demigods lived. They got claimed, their parents ignored them for months or years. They would train for quests, row, sing at camp fires. He would teach sword classes, rowing, and in his spare time he and y/n would go to their secret spot at the lake and…. Spend some time together in private.

Flustered and a little ruffled they would return to have dinner, stargaze, play wild games of Capture the Flag.

Luke was happy enough. But he didn’t know how long this would last, this calm joy.

He couldn’t live like this, waiting in fear for the other shoe to drop with no help from his dad and the other gods.

He’d made his decisions, laid his plans, and now he waited. Waited.

Tangled in your arms, he traced shapes on your hands as you played with his hair. It was a warm environment, like the home he never had.

The nightmares never really left Luke. Well, unless you were with him.

It was many a night, after curfew, when snores were in the air that he would sneak into your cabin and join you (There were too many people in Hermes cabin for the alternative to ever happen).

And there in your bed he would stay. Sometimes you would talk. Sometimes you would make out. And sometimes you would have quiet times like this, all of each other intertwined as you were lost in comforting thoughts.

Well, you were.

Luke was lost in guilt and impossible choices. He never wanted to leave you, be apart from you. He didn’t know how he’d live without seeing you, hearing your voice. And he hated to leave you like this. But he knew you would never join him. Apollo hadn’t been great, but he hadn’t been terrible and he knew his plans would scare you. He wanted the best for half bloods. This was the only way he could think of. When he came back, surely you would understand.

“You’re so quiet,” you mumbled, from your place under his chin. “What’s wrong?”

“You know what I was thinking about?” And he made up some deep philosophical thought that the two of you quietly discussed and argued about for the next little while, the conversation drifting to other topics before you got drowsy.

“Good night,” you murmured, lifting your face to kiss his nose, scar and lips softly. You returned your head to its place, your warm lips in a smile against his neck, “see you in the morning.”

His stomach plunged, and he felt sick with guilt. He reached over for you, drawing you in for a long, passionate kiss. You, still half asleep, confusedly frowned, but settled back into him with a grin on your face. It was a goodbye, but you didn’t know that.

“I love you,” he breathed, while you fell asleep, and he swore he saw your lips turn upwards. You succumbed to sleep quickly, and it made it simple to softly slip away, escape from you.

As he passed Thalia’s tree, he turned back to look at the cabins, your cabin.

He’d run away once from a home, and it had hurt him. But it had been worth it in the end, and he didn’t regret it.

It hurt running away from this home. Was it worth leaving if it tore his heart into two? He supposed only time would tell. Fitting, giving who his new master was.

——————

And that was the last time Luke ever said I love you.

Well, there was once more.

——————————

Seven.

He didn’t know how old he was when he said that small sentence for the final time.

All he knew was he obeyed Kronos and that the gods had to be slain.

The city at least was familiar. A deep, small part of him felt almost… scared and upset that this city was being damaged.

Oh, and the people. There was a boy he hated, who was powerful and threatening. And a girl with him, who he should hate but he seemed to, well, not.

It had all unfolded so suddenly, the defeat, and suddenly he remembered bits and pieces.

He’d betrayed camp half blood, the only home that he had known, but only so the gods would pay attention to them, be better parents. But what he was doing now wasn’t what he had wanted. Not at all.

He supposed it was an easy decision to make when the boy - ….. Percy - told him to stab himself in the armpit.

He did and finally, in the deadly silence, he was himself again. He was Luke Castellan. A demigod, a child of Hermes. A lot of other things.

For a moment all he could see was the blonde girl whose name he couldn’t remember, that stared at him as he began to writhe in pain. The same blonde girl he couldn’t seem to hate, who he seemed to be soft for.

A lot of other faces stared too, who seemed to be familiar to him but he couldn’t place.

And then there was screaming. Loud, pained screams and running footsteps and a panic rose inside of him. He knew that scream, although he’d rarely heard it.

And there was you, y/n. A face and voice he instantly knew, that he would remember half-dead, which ironically reflected the place he was in now.

You were as beautiful as he remembered, even now, your face contorted, grimy, tears streaming, your hair a sweaty mess.

“No, I can heal him, I can heal him.” You sobbed, kneeling beside him and trying to staunch the bleeding which he could oddly not feel.

He hated seeing you like this. So sad, hurt, in pain. Knowing there was nothing he could do to improve it made it even worse.

He reached for your hand, squeezing it and attempting a weak smile. “I’m sorry,” he croaked, “I’m sorry for everything I ever did to you, because you never deserved it. And-“ he coughed, dust in his lungs.

“I love you.” He said, loud and clear for the world to hear. He wanted to say more, but his chest was weak.

It was only them for that moment. You dove in and kissed him, just as passionately as he had that final night. It took his breath away, and he found himself grinning, joyous, at peace.

It was a goodbye, but he didn’t know that.

#luke castellan #pjo #pjo series #luke castellan x reader #pjo show luke #luke castellan x you #pjo spoilers #percy jackson series #pjo tv show #pjo series luke #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan fic #luke castellan angst #luke castellan oneshot #luke castellan imagine #you're welcome #I hurt myself writing this #i may release some more oneshots who knows #requests open

263 notes · View notes

seumyo · 6 days

Text

SAKUSA KIYOOMI ✰ 8:56

NOTE. I am now proposing Haikyuu boys with their Oldest (or Older) sister! Reader and how that dynamic goes . . inspired by this TikTok video.

Sakusa Kiyoomi, when had too many drinks at the post-wedding reception of his oldest sister, is a whole different person when completely sober. And in the rare times that he does get drunk (to no one’s surprise, he’s actually lightweight), he gets a little (a little is an understatement) sentimental and vulnerable.

It just happens; it’s not like he has any control over his raw emotions.

“What was that?” Motoya asks his cousin.

Kiyoomi had been sobbing for half an hour now, his cheeks blooming with a slight rosy hue and his eyes brimming with tears as he wiped them away with his hands—like how a crying toddler would. “Onee-san got married,” he cried through muffled hiccups.

“She’s going to start her own family.”

“And what’s gonna happen?”

“We’re never going to see each other again.”

This side of Kiyoomi was definitely quality entertainment. He rarely ever held his heart and emotions on his sleeves, but tonight was a particular exception. But then again, it was a little surprising how attached he was to his oldest sister considering how big their age gap was.

It could be that, among his siblings, the oldest of the four practically raised Kiyoomi. His older sister and brother were always too busy to play with him because of the obvious difference in their ages as well as their different developmental stages. When Kiyoomi was four, his older sister was ten, his older brother was twelve, and you—his oldest sister—were sixteen at that time.

You were always the one to entertain him whenever you got home from school, spend time with him in the manor’s library, and encourage him to make new friends (before Motoya came along and visited more often) so he wouldn’t be as lonely as he used to. So it was natural that he was much closer to you than his own parents.

“Do you want to say bye again?” Motoya suggested.

“No,” Kiyoomi sniffled, shaking his head. “I already did, it would be too awkward...”

Back in the hotel room, Motoya and Kiyoomi’s older brother—Kino—made sure he didn’t randomly collapse on the way back. They didn’t have to worry about that because Kiyoomi was quite compliant and just kept on talking about how he was going to miss you.

And of course, Kino, being the teasing little shit he was at his grown age, decided to film Kiyoomi’s confessions.

“I’m going to miss Nee-san,” he murmured.

At this point, Motoya and Kino thought that Kiyoomi’s tears were almost at an end, but the whole dam broke when Kino asked, “What’s going to happen to Nee-san?”

“She got married.”

“But that’s how it is—“

“But she’s going to leave the house!” Kiyoomi added, unknowingly folding the freshly ironed blankets the hotel staff provided earlier when they asked for another one. “She was the one who got me to play volleyball,” he said.

“I never listened to what she had to say because she was annoying sometimes, and now I’m going to miss it.”

“Aw, Kiyo!” Kino chuckled. “That’s how it is; she’s bound to start a family of her own eventually.”

But Kiyoomi couldn’t stomach the fact that he had a little too much to drink. He didn’t understand—he couldn't wrap his head around the fact that he would no longer see you when he went home during the weekends if he didn’t have practice; he wouldn’t have to argue with you anymore on who would wash the dishes after supper; he wouldn’t have you cook his favorite dishes anymore.

You wouldn’t come home anymore. You wouldn’t be visiting as often as he’d hoped you would. You wouldn’t visit his games as often as you could because of your job.

The thoughts he was having were antagonizing. They made him feel small and vulnerable, and that familiar feeling of loneliness from his childhood lingers around in the form of a throbbing headache the next morning. Kiyoomi struggles to get through his hangover, but he does his best.

He stares at the mirror in his hotel room’s bathroom, then gets eye drops on his obviously red and still puffy eyes. How much did he cry last night? He doesn’t even remember anything. Kiyoomi doesn’t want to remember if it’s embarrassing. He’d much rather crawl in a hole and never resurface.

Then he sees a message from you.

[video attachment]

Aww, sleep tight, Kiyo :((

Don’t forget that I’ll always be your sister even if we don’t share the same last name anymore or even if I’m not around as often as I wished I could! You could always visit us, ok? Just text me if you need anything!

And just like that, Kiyoomi’s in tears once again.

#sakusa x reader #sakusa x you #sakusa x y/n #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa drabble #sakusa fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu sakusa #hq x reader #hq fluff #hq drabble #hq sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu kiyoomi #hq kiyoomi

208 notes · View notes

nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 2 months

Note

i know your already working on my series but just hear me out okay. hear me out. crazy x crazy trope but with ethan and reader puts bratty cocky ethan in his place. "not so confident now are you, you little bitch? or are you that drunk off my pussy you can barely think?" while he just pouts and glares at her but is quite literally unable to speak and can only whine and whimper for her. double points if she's ghostface with the baileys, taking revenge because of lets say she was either ambers ex or younger sister and is PISSED at tara for taking her girlfriend/older sister away. (TRIPLE THE POINTS if she knew ethan, quinn and richie since childhood too) sorry its thot hrs and i wanna dom him

I hope you like this! I was determined to finish it tonight. I love a good psychotic moment💕

Savages - Ghostface!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: You and your childhood best friend both lost someone from what happened in Woodsboro at the hands of the Carpenter Sisters. You start to plot with him and his family to get revenge, but he's being a little brat after his first kill.

Contains: 3.2k words, Sub!Ethan, Dom/Psycho!Reader, Oral - m and f recieving, Face sitting/riding, p in v, unprotected sex, mentions of death and violence/blood. (If I missed anything, please let me know. My brain has tapped out for the night haha)

A/N: I hope y'all like it:) I love sub Ethan and a good psycho!reader moment.

Ethan knew he loved you, but the second you put on the Ghostface robe and mask, he fell even harder. It’s hard to believe that the two of you made it to this point. He was a sweet kid, and you were always with his family growing up, until the day your parents moved you to Woodsboro. You tried to remain friends with him, until you got a girlfriend. You weren’t anything more than best friends at that point, but he’d message you like a controlling boyfriend. He professed his feelings, but it was too late. You’d already found someone in your new town. Someone you could experience a relationship with.

He was devastated when you rejected him, and when he wouldn’t let it go, you eventually had to block him. Amber was pretty much the exact opposite. She even asked you about opening the relationship up to other people, just because she wanted you to experience other things. She wasn’t possessive like Ethan, but she never wanted to just let you go.

When Richie showed up to the hospital with Sam after Tara was attacked, he recognized you immediately. He pretended he didn’t, though, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that he wasn’t originally from the area where he met Sam. You finally pulled him to the side one day and talked to him, and he pleaded with you to not tell anyone that you already knew him. That was the moment that you knew he had something to do with what was happening.

You didn’t suspect Amber, though, until the day of the party. You were upstairs in her room when she pulled out a knife.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she said, plunging the knife into your abdomen.

“What the fuck? It’s you?” you sobbed, dropping to your knees as you noticed the blood starting to drip onto her carpet.

“I can’t have you on the suspect list. You trust me, don’t you?” she asked. You hesitated before nodding, “I didn’t stab you anywhere that will cause a lot of damage, okay? I’m going to call 911, and by the time they get here, Richie and I will be done, and you’ll be saved.”

“I feel really dizzy,” you cried out, Amber’s hand wrapping around your mouth so you couldn’t make anymore noise to draw attention to yourself.

“You’re going to pass out soon. You’re losing a lot of blood,” she said, before the rest of her words sounded muffled, your vision completely fading.

She was right, you were saved. You woke up in your hospital bed the next day, and learned that Amber and Richie didn’t survive. You were devastated, but you knew the one person you could talk to that would understand your pain.

You unblocked Ethan’s number and called him. You could hear the tears in his voice as he answered. When he found out that you’d been a part of everything, he was mad at first, screaming at you until his voice was raw. He eventually heard you out, mainly because he had no voice to speak, and learned that you had nothing to do with what happened to Richie. The two of you decided that the Carpenter sisters needed to pay for taking away your loved ones.

You fake-smiled when Sam and Tara walked into your hospital room a little later in the day.

“Someone’s doing better,” Sam said, pushing Tara up beside you before taking a seat at the foot of your hospital bed.

“Yeah, I’m on a lot of good drugs,” you laughed, as Sam and Tara exchanged their glances. “What?” you asked, feeling like there was something they knew and you didn’t.

“Richie and Amber were, uh…” Tara said, looking over to her sister for help.

“They were what?” you asked, turning your attention to Sam as well.

“Your girlfriend and my boyfriend were together,” she said, a stoic look on her face. “We were both getting cheated on by psychos.”

You were livid that Sam was talking about her like that, but you felt a little hurt. You and Amber always promised that if you were going to see other people in your relationship, you’d let the other person know. A few tears started to slip out as Tara offered you the box of tissues on the bedside table.

“Thanks,” you said, grabbing a couple out of the box before Tara sat it back down. “How do you guys feel about getting the fuck out of here? Like, once Tara and I graduate?”

“What did you have in mind?” Sam asked, thinking that it might not be the worst idea.

“I think we should go to New York. I grew up there, and I really think you guys would like it,” you smiled, as Tara nodded.

“Fuck it, let’s start looking into schools. After you get out of here, of course.”

You called Ethan, squealing in excitement when you and all your friends got their acceptance letters. That’s when the plan was officially set into motion, with the help of Quinn and his dad. Having a detective on your side of things was going to heavily benefit the outcome of everything, and you couldn’t wait to make the people that took Amber from you pay for what they’d done.

Once you started school, you were ‘introduced’ to Ethan. No one could know that the two of you already knew each other in attempts to not ruin the plan before you got to do any damage. Fortunately for the two of you, when you immediately hit it off and seemed to have your own little inside jokes, they chalked it up to young love.

You weren’t official with Ethan for a while, until your “Friends’” constant nagging about it convinced you to give him the chance he wanted. Once you found out that poor boy was a virgin, and you helped him out with that, he was wrapped around your finger. He worshipped the ground you walked on and would do anything you asked him to. The only thing he hated was when you brought up Amber. He hated that she got you first.

The night Ghostface “killed” Quinn and actually killed Anika, you were waiting in the alley on the opposite side of the building for your boyfriend to finish what he went in there to do. You were both supposed to be in econ, but you were his alibi. They’d never suspect you, so they could never suspect Ethan if you said you were with him in class.

He was stripping off the robe as he bolted down the fire escape. He tossed it down to you, and you quickly put it in your backpack as he joined you to walk in a normal pace towards the alley exit at the back of the building.

“How was it?” you asked, smiling at him.

“God, baby. It was the biggest rush. I wish you could’ve been in there with me,” he said, pulling you into a kiss once you made it onto the sidewalk.

“I’m so proud of you. You’re doing such a good job for me,” you praised, ruffling your fingers in his hair a little as he started to pull away. “I can’t wait to make the others pay for what they did to Amber.”

He huffed, his irritation at the mention of her name obvious as you cocked your eyebrow at him. “Do you have a problem?”

“Yeah, I do. I was so excited about what just happened, but then you mention your stupid fucking ex. I feel like she’s all you care about,” he said, his angry tone and harsh remarks about Amber pissing you off. “We’re in this together, remember? Me and you?”

“Yeah, and your dad, and Quinn.”

He started to walk away from you, heading towards his dorm. You followed him, trying to keep up with his pace.

“Quit acting like such a brat,” you said, a few feet behind him on the otherwise empty sidewalk.

“Quit being such a bitch,” he muttered, but the second those words left his mouth, he knew he was in trouble. You quickened your pace, slamming him against the brick wall the second you made it to him.

“What did you call me?” you asked, his eyes going wide at the lust in your tone. He stayed silent, just watching you. “Huh, nothing to say now?” you scoffed, “You know I’m in charge here, baby.”

You pulled away, smiling sweetly at him as you took his hand in yours.

The walk back to the dorm was silent because Ethan knew what he was in for. He was excited, but also nervous. The few scenarios where he did decide to get mouthy with you ended in him being edged to the point of tears, begging you to finally let him cum. He was hard at the thought, but he was always scared you’d just walk away and not let him get the release he needed.

Once you made it inside the dorm he shared with Chad, you knew you had plenty of time to be alone with him. Chad probably wasn’t coming back for the night, but you knew you’d have to get back home at some point.

“Take your clothes off,” you said to Ethan, the stern tone in your voice making him comply. You watched him shed each article of clothing and smirked when you saw the tent in his boxers once he removed his jeans. “Aww, baby. Did you get hard from killing someone? Or was it me pushing you against the wall earlier?” you cooed, as he slid his boxers down, his cock standing at attention in from of you.

“It’s because of you,” he said, his arms resting at his sides as he waited for you to tell him what to do next.

“That was the right answer,” you smiled, “Lay back on the bed.”

He did what you said, watching you intently. You walked over to him, and started to stroke his cock that was resting against his tummy.

“Fuck,” he groaned, before you leaned down and took him in your mouth. He thought you were going to take it easy on him tonight, until you pulled your head away after a minute, his cock drenched in your spit. “Babe,” he whined out.

You rolled your eyes at his neediness. “I want you to grab your cock and start stroking, baby.”

He did what you said, your saliva making his hand glide up and down with ease. After a few minutes, he started to whine.

“This doesn’t feel as good as when you do it,” he whimpered, the tip of his cock turning red as he tried to get himself to cum.

“Well, that’s too bad, baby. What was it that you called me?” you fake-pondered, your pointer finger going in between your teeth, “Oh that’s right. I’m a bitch.”

“I didn’t mean it,” he said, his eyes pleading for you to touch him again. You noticed his hand was no longer moving.

“Did I say you could stop?” you questioned, as his hand movements started back up. “Good boy.” He whined at your words, his hand moving faster. “Do you want me to keep praising you, baby?”

He nodded his head as he kept going.

“You did such a good job tonight. You know how wet you made me when you killed her?” you said, your sadistic side on full display. “I’m so proud of you for doing whatever I ask you to.”

You noticed he was starting to get close, his hand moving even faster and his heaving chest, along with his whimpers making it obvious. Just as he was about to cum, you stopped him.

“Don’t you fucking cum,” you scolded, his hand coming to a stop as he started to whine even more from the lost orgasm.

“I needed it so bad,” he begged, as you shook your head.

“I don’t know if you deserve to cum. Maybe if you didn’t feel the need to call me names…” you trailed off, as he started to get really frustrated.

“I wouldn’t have called you that if you wouldn’t have brought her up,” he snapped, your eyes getting dark at his words.

“Hmm, I think someone’s a little insecure. Are you worried that she fucked me better than you do?” you questioned, “Because I don’t know what other reason you have to be jealous of someone that’s dead.”

“Stop talking about her,” he said, growing furious at the thought of you having sex with someone else.

“You are just too cute,” you said, slipping your shirt over your head. “I can’t believe that you think you’re going to have the upper hand in this, ya know? Like you really think that I’m going to stop talking about her. I loved her, Ethan.”

His eyes stayed on you as you continued to strip out of your clothes,

“What? Cat got your tongue, baby? You have nothing to say?” you asked, sliding your panties down. “Even if you did, I know the perfect way to shut you up.”

You crawled up on the bed, your knees right beside his head as you swung your leg over to straddle his face.

“You better make me cum, or you don’t get to cum. Got it?” you asked, as he nodded before you lowered yourself.

His tongue gently moved against your clit at first. He knew just how you liked it, so he wanted to pace himself. Once he started to lick a little faster, your hands went down to his curls as you really started to ride his face.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” you moaned out, his hands going to your hips as he helped you move against his mouth.

You whimpered when his tongue dipped inside you, the muscle massaging your walls as he ate you out. Once he could tell you were getting close, he lifted your hips a little to focus on your clit again. The second he sucked it into his mouth, you started to feel your orgasm building. You gripped the headboard to keep yourself stable, your hands and legs starting to shake.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you whined out, one hand staying on the headboard as your other went back to his hair. You were tugging at it as that euphoric feeling hit, his groaning from your pulling making the orgasm more intense. He kept your hips moving until you rode out your high, your body getting a little tired from the release.

You got off his face as he tried to catch his breath. He was anticipating what you’d do next, because he made you cum, and he was hoping you’d keep up your end of the deal. You didn’t say anything as you straddled his waist and lined his cock leaking precum with your entrance. He groaned out when you sank down, the feeling making his brain turn to mush.

You started slowly; your hands placed on his chest as you took your time. He was desperate for more, but you weren’t going to give in that easily.

“You aren’t so cocky now, are you? You little bitch.” You put extra emphasis on that word because that’s what he called you, and he needed to know his place. He glared at you as you continued to take your time with him.

Whimpers flooded out of his mouth when you started to bounce on him, his cock almost completely out of you before you sank back down onto him. His hands went to your hips to help you keep your pace feeling like he was finally getting somewhere. He started to babble, his words sounding like ‘I fucking love your pussy’. You smirked at his current state.

“Look at you, so drunk off my pussy that you can’t even talk,” you said, your breathing getting heavy as the tip of his cock kept hitting your g-spot. “Are you okay, sweet boy?”

He started to whimper again, his orgasm quickly approaching. You decided to let him cum, as you leaned forward, your chest almost pressed against his. He gripped your hips harder as he started to thrust up into you, your hips rolling back to meet each one.

Your orgasm was right on the edge, your walls starting to flutter a little. He was trying so hard to get you through another one before he came.

“Fuck, baby. I’m cumming,” you moaned out, as his whines got even louder. Your walls spasmed around him, making his breath hitch in his throat.

The skin slapping and his sounds were bouncing around the room as he kept pounding into you.

“Can I please cum?” he begged, praying that you’d say yes.

You were proud of him for using his words that he hadn’t been able to form. “Yes, baby.”

He whimpered out as his hot cum painted your walls, his grip on your hips getting shaky as he slowed your movements.

“Holy fuck,” he said, his hands rubbing against your back as his cock stayed inside of you.

You listened to his heartbeat as you got out of your dominating headspace, starting to feel a little bad.

“I’m sorry I talk about her so much. I really loved her,” you mumbled against his chest.

“I guess I just feel like I’m always coming in second place to her,” he sighed, sadness in his voice.

“You aren’t, though. I think we would’ve ended up together one way or another,” you laughed a little as he kissed the top of your head.

“After we’re done with all of this, can we just focus on us?” he asked, as you nodded against him.

You laid there for a few more minutes, before remembering that you needed to head back to the apartment.

“I have to go, baby,” you said, sitting up. He groaned as you slid him out of you.

“Do you have to?” he asked, wanting nothing more than for you to stay in his bed with him a little longer.

“If we want this plan to work, then yes,” you said, noticing his cum dripping down your inner thighs as you tried to grab your clothes off the floor. “You came a lot, fuck.”

You grabbed some tissues and wiped it from your thighs before you started to put your clothes back on. He started to laugh a little as you glanced over to him. “What?”

“My cum is going to keep dripping out of you,” he said, as you rolled your eyes.

“Lucky for you, I think it’s hot. It’s a nice little reminder of how good I made you feel,” you said with a smile. “I love you, baby,” you said, kissing him before grabbing your purse and rushing out of the room.

“I love you, too.”

You’d almost made it to the apartment when you noticed all the flashing lights up ahead and could see Mindy and Chad sitting on the sidewalk.

“What’s going on?” you asked, looking around to see the black tarp covering a body in the alley.

“Anika,” was all that Tara could say, before Sam spoke up, “And Quinn. Our apartment is a crime scene right now.”

“Oh my god,” you said, turning on your crocodile tears as you looked over to Mindy. “I’m so sorry.”

“Was Ethan in class tonight?” she asked coldly, her question catching you off guard.

“Yeah, he was sitting beside me the whole time. Then we went back to his dorm for a little bit before I came home,” you lied, as she started to shake her head.

“None of this makes any fucking sense.”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut #scream #smut #Ghostface!Ethan Landry

245 notes · View notes

my--moon · 3 months

Text

❝ Traitor ❞

Pairing; Luke Castellan X Fem!Reader (Daughter of Aphrodite) Warning; Angst, betrayal, manipulation, gaslighting, violence, injuries and curse words A/N; I see too many fanfics where when Luke betrays (y/n) she cries (which is completely understandable) But I need more rage and tears, so :) Tags; @riordanness

He was perfect.

He was sweet, kind, protective and loyal.

Luke was the perfect lover. (Y/N) had never felt happier, though something about him made her younger sister, Clara, uncomfortable.

Clara and (Y/N) were inseparable, always together. The big sister and the little sister. The young and the old.

Ever since Clara showed up at Camp, (Y/N) was there for her.

Sniffling and sobbing was heard behind the Aphrodite cabin—(Y/N) just so happened to hear it. The daughter of love slinked and looked around the corner to see a crying girl. Only about 12.

“Hey...” (Y/N) whispered with a sweet voice. She leaned against the wall and slid down to sit next to the young girl. “What's wrong, honey?”

“Don't call me that..” The girl said with a cracked voice. “Only my dad calls me that! And I can never see him again because I'm in this horrible place!”

“Hey hey,” The daughter of love paused. “It's not that bad.. There's plenty of things to do—and there's monsters trying to kill you... Okay, it's bad...”

(Y/N) stayed silent after her words didn't seem to help the poor girl. So she asked a question; “Do you know your godly parent yet?”

The tearful girl nodded as she sniffled. “Yea... It's.. It's Aphrodite..”

“Then that makes us sisters.” (Y/N) added to her sentence. “Aphrodite's my mother as well.” The young girl looked up, her eyes misty from the tears.

“Really?”

(Y/N) nodded. A soft smile creeping into her complexion—she had Aphrodite's eyes and lips. Her hair texture was from her father though.

“You're very pretty..” The girl sniffed, (Y/N) giggled and smiled at the compliment.

“Thank you! So are you!” The smile plastered on her face only widened.

The sniffling coming from the girl had dimished. She wiped her tears out of the way before looking back at her so-called sister.

“I'm Clara. Clara Baileys.”

“Lovely name, Clara. I'm (Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N).”

As the years flew by them, the two sisters had bonded—Clara saw (Y/N) as a true sister. One that protected her and cared for her without a need for reciprocating.

That's why when Luke came into the picture—Clara didn't trust him. She had no proof of this gut feeling, but he just felt off...

But he made (Y/N) happy, right? That's all that mattered... Right?

(Y/N) was happy, she was smiling so much. Clara couldn't take that away from her. Seeing her sister swoon and ramble over how sweet he was with her was endearing to see.

The way he'd kiss her forehead before training, the way he'd treat the Aphrodite kids with extra respect since they were related to (Y/N), even forced the Stoll brothers not to prank the Aphrodite cabin.

He's a good guy, right? Clara thought to herself. Soon her thoughts were interrupted by cheers, Luke had won another spar. So people were praising him.

(Y/N) was right next to him with the biggest smile on her pretty face. Holding onto his shoulder with a loving look in her eyes. It made Clara scoff.

Sometimes she's an idiot... He's weird.. The thoughts that lingered in her mind were broken by the sound of a familiar voice.

“Clara, right?”

The child of Aphrodite snapped her head in the direction of the voice. It was Luke Castellan. With his toned physique and dark curls.

“..Yea?” Clara answered, cocking an eyebrow. She noticed it was retty late, the sun was just setting—she was probably missing dinner, but she wasn't very hungry anyway.

“Care to walk with me?” He asked, his voice as smooth as butter. That same gut feeling Clara always got when she was around him returned.

“Umm..” Clara stuttered before glancing around. “Shouldn't you be in the Dining Pavilion?” She asked. “Or with (Y/N)..?”

“Not hungry. And (Y/N)'s busy with her meal.” Like answered, offering a hand to her. “C'mon. Just follow me.”

Clara reluctantly agreed, standing up and following him close behind.

The sunset was beautiful. The gradation from navy to pinks was gorgeous and stunning in a way no god or goddess could compare.

The stars started to appear, small twinkling lights in the dark night. The moon rose up and shone it's ethereal glimmer

The path they took was... spooky. The trees were large and wide, the branches loomed over the pair like hands ready to grab them at any given time.

Luke was silent, and it made Clara uneasy. What was going to happen? Does anyone know about this? Does (Y/N) know about this?

“Clara,” Luke started, not facing her as they stopped at a secluded area of the trees. “You trust me. Right?”

A million thoughts came rushing through her brain. She wanted to say 'no'. But that could be bad... She could charmspeak him into taking her back? No... (Y/N) would get mad.

“...” Clara stayed silent.

“You do trust me, right Clara?” Luke repeated, now fully stopping in the middle of the area, but still not facing her.

Clara gulped. “Where's this conversation going?” She stuttered out, slightly backing away from his reach.

“Just answer me. C'mon, (Y/N) would answer me.” Luke said, adding on (Y/N)'s name—he's said her name before; but he said it like a slur this time.

What does he want?

“..Not really..” Clara said, gripping onto her camp necklace; with 3 beads, one purple, one red and a yellow one as well.

Luke let out a low noise, Clara couldn't tell if it was a hiss or a laugh. “But your okay with me dating your sister, right?” He asked.

“I guess... It makes her happy..”

“Mhm.” Luke hummed.

“Luke.” Clara asked. “Why'd you bring me here?”

“I have to send a message, of course.” Luke replied, finally turning slightly to face her. “And your the easy target. Weak yet well known. You'll get attention.”

Clara's gut feeling was right—he was dangerous. And if the moon light struck on his features right at that moment, Clara would notice a sharp blade in his hand, Backbiter.

Clara started to back up, still holding onto her necklace, silently begging for help as he walked forward towards her.

“Sorry, Clara. But I need to do this.”

He raised up his blade; ready to strike down the daughter of love, before she heard rustling from the bushes and footsteps running.

SLASH!

The clunk of metal was loud, the sound of a blade falling signified Luke was disarmed. Clara opened her eyes—spotting the familiar strong figure of (Y/N) in front of her.

Backbiter was on the ground, (Y/N) held a protective stance in front of her sister, holding her own blade; which she referred to as “Celosia” (English derivation of ‘Burning’ or ‘Burned’ in Greek, which is kelos)

“Touch her again and I'll cut off your hand!” (Y/N) hissed, holding her balde tightly as she threatened Luke with it. Luke held up his hands in defence.

(Y/N) glanced back at Clara. “Oh praise Mother Rhea, are you alright?!” She said with wide eyes and a panicked expression. The pure concern for Clara was obvious.

(Y/N) held her sister's cheeks with her palms as she checked for any traces of harm on her. “I'm okay..” Clara managed to spit out.

You wouldn't believe the sigh of relief that escaped her lips when she heard her sister's words. “Good.. good.. Now run off and tell the others, tell Chiron. Tell them all..” She whispered as she sent Clara off.

Clara frantically nodded and ran as fast as he legs could take her, dashing past trees and hurdling over rocks.

(Y/N) the slowly turned her head towards back to Luke. A icy cold expression dawned on her face, her eyes showing no sign of love or compassion towards him like she did a few hours ago.

“What. The. FUCK. WAS THAT, LUKE?!”

(Y/N) screamed at him. She was seeing pure red, she looked like she wanted to gut and strangle Luke for laying a finger on her sister, Clara.

The brunet backed up—he had no weapon since Backbiter was laid limp behind her ankle. “Babe! Hi, umm...”

“Don't fucking call me 'babe', you lying, traitorous embarrassment!” (Y/N) hissed at him, her pupils dilating to near atom size.

“(Y/N), you need to hear me out—” Luke tried to excuse his behaviour with words—but could you really explain to your lover why you tried to murder their younger sibling?

According to (Y/N). The answer is; “I'm not going to fucking hear you out! You lied to me! You said you loved me! What kind of a boyfriend would kill their girlfriend's sister?!”

Luke really had no excuse. But he could come clean. “I had to, (Y/N). I had to send a message.”

“To who?!” (Y/N) yelled at him, hrr words growing bitter. Her eyes were misty, she wanted to sob, cry and beg him to tell her it wasn't true.

But she knew he would be lying then.

“You didn't really think I was loyal to the gods, did you? They abandoned us, (Y/N). When was the last time you talked with your mother?” Luke asked rhetorically.

“I don't fuckin' care about my mother right now, I care about why you tried to fucking hurt my sister!” (Y/N) snapped, her brows furrowed at his words.

“The Gods left us to die. Kronos wan—” Luke tried to start before getting cut off by his soon-to-be ex girlfriend.

“Kronos? Kronos?!” She screamed at him. “You've betrayed the camp, your family, the gods! You betrayed me, Luke!”

Luke averted his gaze away as she screamed and yelled at him. Threatening to kill him if he came back to camp. “Get out of here, Luke. before I run Celosia right into your heart.”

Luke's eyes widened at her threat, he would've killed her if she was someone else. “No, I can't leave you.”

“Then you'll die by my blade.”

As (Y/N) said this, she charged forward and attempted to slash at his ribcage. If Luke hadn't moved in time, he would've been in lots of pain.

Luke dodged the blade, falling forward and grabbing his own sword, Backbiter, off the ground. He raised it up and striked down at (Y/N)'s cheek as she was vulnerable from behind.

A gasp was heard, then a scream.

Pearls of blood dripped from her jaw, a gash on her jawline was now present. (Y/N)'s hand insictively went to her cheek, her hand now dyed crimson as the liquid leaked.

A scene flashed before Luke's eyes. Reminding him of this position he once was in—when he got his scar.

Luke couldn't show weakness. No no no, someone would take advantage of that. He simply looked down coldly at her. “The Golden Age is upon us, (Y/N). If only you could be apart of it...”

And with that—Luke Castellan disappeared into the night.

(Y/N) layed there, tears streaming down her cheeks as the blood leaked down her neck and slipped into her mouth. Sobbing over her lover's betrayal.

She heard footsteps. And the two familiar voices calling her name.

“(Y/N)?” That was Clara. Her younger sister.

“(Y/N)!” That was Silena. Her older sister by a few months.

(Y/N) called back with a cracked voice. “Here..!” She replied to their yells. The two ran over to their sister, Silena slid to her knees, holding (Y/N)'s bloody cheek with a worried expression.

“Clara told us everything..” Silena answered (Y/N) confused expression, how she wondered why them came. “Where's Luke?” She asked.

Another soft sob escaped from (Y/N). “He's... Luke has betrayed camp.. We're no longer safe here! He knows how camp works! He'll tell them all!”

Silena's eyes widened at her words. Clara nodded her head, before speaking; “Chiron's coming over.. He'll heal up that gash as best he can... Are..Are you okay?”

(Y/N) sniffed, before Silena wiped her tears out of her face, moving her hair away from her complexion. “Oh poor honey..” Silena hummed.

(Y/N) looked back at the ravenette, before bursting into tears. Sobbing into Silena's CHB shirt, making her orange shoulder red with her old blood.

“I hate him... I hate him, I swear!” (Y/N) spoke, but her words came out muffled and crokey from crying. “I want to go home..”

Silena nodded, helping (Y/N) up as Clara held her sister's hand tightly. “Thank you..” She whispered to (Y/N).

(Y/N) nodded at Clara before the Aphrodite trio walked back to camp, (Y/N) looking like a hot mess. A gash on her jaw (that'll will only heal into a scar), messy hair, and ruined mascara running down her face.

“I hate him..”

314 notes · View notes

harlowcomehome · 7 months

Text

Divorce and takeout menus:

You had spent the first half of your day getting the house ready for Jack to come home. You had set out a colorful tablecloth on your kitchen table, got paper plates you knew the girls would like, and bought him his usual “coming home” flowers.

He had been in Canada the last week tending to business opportunities.

When it was finally time you picked Hazel and Jade up from their separate schools, noticing as soon as she got in the car that Hazel seemed upset about something.

She was a lot like her dad in every aspect. This meant, when something was bothering her she shut down, got quiet, and waited for someone to notice. Her energy was sad, and you knew she was on the verge of crying at any given moment.

“Hazey, baby? How did your day go?”

She opened her mouth to speak but tears came first.

“Where is Daddy? Did he come home yet?”

You checked the time. “He should be at home sweetheart!” You looked at her through the rearview mirror, noticing she was crying harder now.

“Why cry?” Jade reached over her car seat to wipe Hazel's face but sighed when she couldn’t reach.

“I just miss daddy!” She wiped her face as she continued to cry. You reached back, handing her your cell phone.

“Call him baby! He just got home and he’s probably still awake waiting for you two.”

Hazel sniffled FaceTiming her dad on the way home.

“Hi, booger!” Jack teased before seeing her face. “Oh no! Hazey, what’s wrong?”

“I missed you! A lot!” Her bottom lip quivered as she tried to gain control of herself.

“Baby girl, I missed you too! I’m home now! I got you and your sister gifts and when you get here I’ll show you all the pictures Uncle Urb took!” He was staring at his eldest daughter's expression that didn’t change much.

“I don’t care about the stuff. I just wanna see you. You’re my favorite person Daddy!” She was crying again and you were growing more and more worried, wondering what had happened at school that made her so emotional.

Unlike Jade, Hazel usually didn’t cry much. Jade started crying the moment Hazel's eyes filled with tears.

“How far are you guys?”

“We are about ten minutes away” you hollered so he could hear you.

“Don’t go okay? Stay on the phone until we get home?” Hazel looked at her dad through the FaceTime call with pleading eyes.

“Okay Hazey” he hummed and continued to make conversation as you pulled into the driveway.

When you got to the house, he waited outside as you opened the door for Hazel to greet him, before unbuckling Jade and helping her out of the car.

“Daddy!” Jade ran over and hugged his leg before he picked her up, Hazel still attached to him.

Jack looked at you with a face full of confusion and you shrugged, not having a clear answer for him.

Hazel hadn’t left his side since she got home, she followed him to the bathroom and waited outside of the door, he moved and she was his shadow.

You silently motioned at Jack, urging him to push her to explain.

“Hazel, sweetheart? What happened at school today that made you so sad?” Jack asked once Jade was fully distracted by a toy.

“My friend Ashley told me her daddy doesn’t live with them anymore and that he doesn’t ever want to again” she sniffled, her lip quivering as she told him the story.

“Did that make you worried that I wasn’t coming home?” His eyes softened listening to her explain.

She nodded before continuing to explain.

“Ashley said her daddy doesn’t love her anymore because he told her that.” Hazel started heavy breathing, and Jack knew she wanted to cry again. He leaned over and held her, giving her the biggest hug he could as she sobbed into his chest.

You were in the kitchen, opening the cabinets to look for dinner while overhearing the conversation and wanting to burst into tears yourself. You had known about Ashley's parents getting a divorce, but you didn’t know he had gone “no contact” or that he broke his daughters heart like that.

You knew tonight wasn’t a night for cooking, ordering takeout immediately.

“That would never happen with us Hazey. I love you so much, and I promise I won’t ever stop. You know that right?” He was trying his best not to cry, his lips quivering.

“You’re not going anywhere?” She sniffled.

“Never.”

You walked into the room, sitting beside them.

You and Jack took turns explaining what a divorce was making sure to explain to Hazel that you and Jack weren’t thinking about that at all.

“Daddy just has a busy job which means he’s not here sometimes” you continued to explain.

“But I’ll always come home” he booped her nose, reassuring her and making her giggle.

Jade realized you were still on the couch, climbing up on it “can we eat now?”

Hazel laughed, “Yeah, I’m hungry too.”

You checked your phone, “I have food coming, it looks like they are about 5 minutes away. How about you girls go wash your hands?”

That was usually yours and Jack's signal that you needed to speak to one another without the girls.

He urged them to go and stood up to speak to you.

“I think we handled that pretty good right?” He scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“Yes. But she needs some time with you. I ordered your favorite take out and maybe we can all watch a movie? I think they need an impromptu daddy date.” You looked around the corner to see if they were coming yet.

“You’re so cute. You really think of everything,” he laughed, scrunching his nose at you.

“I know you’re exhausted baby, but I think this will be good for them.“

“I know you are too” he smiled, leaning down to kiss you. “You’ve been here taking care of them all week without me. I agree this will be good for them. I’m not that tired.”

You knew he wasn’t being truthful about that, but admired it.

“I’m their mom!” You giggled shrugging it off, never wanting to make a big deal of anything.

“You know what I mean. I just appreciate you” he kissed you again.

“Did you like your flowers?” You smiled, taking in this private moment for as long as possible. You really did miss him when he was gone.

“You know I love them, I always do. How did I get so lucky? I married such a beautiful and thoughtful woman” he rubbed his hands down your lower back giving your butt a quick squeeze before the girls came giggling down the hall. He pulled his hands back quickly making you giggle.

“What if we had a daddy-daughter date girls? What do you two say?” Jack asked both Hazel and Jade who both jumped up and down excitedly.

You let him take the credit, he more than earned it.

The doorbell rang suddenly and Jack went to get the food, shaking the bag dramatically as the girls got excited.

“My favorite!” Hazel exclaimed grabbing the bag from Jack and running to place it on the table.

“You can thank your mom for that! She’s the one who ordered it” he winked at you, giving you your credit too.

#Jack Harlow #Jack Harlow fan fic #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow blurb #Jack Harlow x reader #dad! Jack

315 notes · View notes

f10werfae · 1 year

Text

Act like a Mother

pairing: Dad!Husb!Chris Evans x Wife!Mom!Reader

Summary: Chris is stressed and reader has been taking care of the kids then one day she's maybe cooking, just far away from the kids and one of them maybe falls and hurts themselves and Chris criticizes readers mothering skills (warning: argument but reconciliation) (Requested by anon)

requests are open/likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

Chris Evans Masterlist, full masterlist, taglist form

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Y/n breathed out in exhaustion, clearly needing time to herself while cooking her family of four dinner, her husband Chris had just gotten back from filming Ghosted and was intent on catching up on lost sleep. The bags under her eyes were not missable, hell even Chris’ own ma had stepped in a few times just to remind the poor woman to eat.

Having two children under the age of five surely wasn’t easy, and everyone seemed to see that but Chris. Of course don’t get me wrong he’s such a hands on, amazing doting father; yet he always seems to miss the hardest parts of parenting while filming. The teaching of boundaries, basic safety and precious memories.

Mindlessly stirring the stew Y/n huffed out before a loud high pitched squeal filled her ears, that of her son’s, Liam. Within seconds her mother instincts kicked in and she rushed to the living room, her now awakened husband shushing the poor thing with his head hidden into his father’s neck. His loud sobs slowly stifling down to smaller hiccups, his younger sister Laura luckily still asleep in her bassinet.

“W-what happened?” Y/n asked wiping her hands onto her apron before reaching for her baby, only for her heart to break when Chris stepped back shaking his head, his eyes filled with fatigue and anger.

“I’ll talk to you in the kitchen, go wait for me there” He said coldly, walking away to put baby Liam back into his bassinet, lulling him back to sleep by padding around the room.

Feeling the tension, Y/n walked into the kitchen grabbing her hair out of frustration, her husband’s footsteps following behind her.

“What the hell was that Y/n?” Chris said closing the kitchen, his voice now raising, his voice accusatory.

“What do you mean?” Y/n was now confused, she’d done nothing wrong?

“Our baby hurts himself and you’re not even there to protect him? What if something serious had happened and I wasn’t there? He hit his head off the wall, luckily not too hard. Is this what’s been going on when i’m gone? God do you even care about our kids, because your attention is clearly elsewhere”

He shouted pointing at the stew which was now definitely overcooked,

“B-but you were on the couch so I thought maybe-“

“What? Does that suddenly relieve you of all responsibility? Come on Y/n, you’re a mother, act like one”

Now that sentence did it

You’re a mother, act like one

A loud ringing noise filled Chris’ ears and his cheek hot, his wife had thrown her hand so fast it was a surprise, he noticed her eyes were now watering, before he could even try to reach for her she had thrown off her apron and stormed off.

‘fuck sake’ Chris groaned leaning onto the countertop, his his hands rubbing his gruff beard in frustration,

(Y/n’s P.O.V)

“Oh no” I whispered feeling tears and sobs make their way out of my mouth, I hated crying or being upset, walking towards the living room I saw my two babies awake and sitting in their respective bassinets which were in the living room during the day.

“Mama’s sorry, didn’t mean it” I sobbed picking up Liam and holding him against me, his tiny hands going around my neck,

“Mama cry?”

“I’m okay honey” I whispered smiling at my son’s caring nature, leaning down to also pick up Laura, I headed up the steps and into their shared bedroom.

For the past few months, I had basically acted as a single mother. Chris visited as much as he could, sending us things we needed, but I can’t deny the feeling of being alone in this. Having to change every single diaper on my own, feeding time, bath time, every single tear was on me. Of course Scott and Lisa helped out as much as they could, but I couldn’t let them parent my kids, that would be too much.

So to hear my own husband accuse me of not caring for our kids and insinuate that i’m not acting like a mother? That was fucking disrespectful and out of line, as if he’s been here the whole fucking time, what a prick.

Placing them onto their shared double bed, the two of them instantly cuddled into one another, tucking in with their favourite stuffies. Liam was genuinely protective over his little sister, never denied her cuddles or offers to play, something I was glad about.

“Momma 'tay please” Laura whined moving over on the bed to be in the middle, patting the mattress beside her, feeling another set of tears choke me up I moved in beside them. My arm reaching over to hug both of them, Laura’s tiny body flushed against my chest, as if she was still a newborn. With her hand gripping onto my shirt cutely, her big brother cuddled in behind her, both of them falling asleep almost instantly. Just like their father.

Soon enough just like them, I found my eyes slowly closing, the stinging from the tears making them seem more and more heavy.

(Chris' P.O.V)

“Chris I did not raise you to talk to women like that, especially your own wife. Have you not seen my poor daughter-in-law? She’s 24/7 caring for your kids, she’s even missed out on enough meals to feed a country. Did ya know that? Scott and I had to make more than a few runs just to make sure she had remembered to eat. Two kids under five isn’t exactly a trip Christopher, it’s hard enough with two parents, now imagine doing it as one”

“I know ma, I know. I messed up real bad, what do I do?”

“You’re her husband, figure it out son”

Breathing out I listened as the beep rang telling me my ma just hung up on me, looking around at the kitchen around me, my heart broke hearing her apologise to our babies like that. I did that. Y/n did nothing wrong to deserve that.

Walking up to our bedroom I saw our bed was still made, she hadn’t come to bed yet. Had she left with the kids? Had it really been that bad? Rushing towards the kids’ room I opened it to see my whole life right in front of me, my amazing wife and the lives we created.

(No one’s P.O.V)

Leaning over Chris watched Y/n sleep peacefully, her eyes still puffy from earlier making his heart break that much more. With on hand under her back and another under her knees, he picked her up effortlessly and carried her back into their shared room. A small smile on his face when he felt her cuddle into his chest, his eyes catching their wedding photo pinned above their bed.

Putting her down onto her side, Chris slipped in beside her and just stared at her, taking in all of her beauty. She looked so soft and calm in her sleep, showing Chris just how stressed she was. Angry at himself he brushed a bit of her hair back, her doe eyes fluttering open, a bittersweet smile making its way onto his face.

“W-what am I doing here?” She asked confused, her eyes trailing around the room tiredly, grabbing onto the comforters more tightly.

“Honey- I-“ Chris started but before he could even say anything, Y/n had cuddled into his chest, sobs wrecking through her entire body making her shake. Her hands tightly held onto the bottom of his shirt, Chris could feel his shirt slowly dampening, his hand coming up to rest onto the back of her head.

“H-how could y-you say that to me? I thought w-we were a team Chrissy? That hurts” She cried, hiccups interrupting her every so often, Chris hated himself at that moment. Never in his life did he want to retreat his woman to tears, never.

“I-i’m so sorry honey, to be honest, I think I just didn’t wanna blame myself for what happened. Instead I did the selfish thing and took it out on you baby, something that is not excusable whatsoever. You’re right, we are a team and I know I completely ambushed you back there. Like we said 6 years ago, I love you with my mind, body and soul; please forgive me Y/n” He whispered cupping her wet face with his hands, his lips brushing over her pink pouting ones ever so slightly.

“You hurt me Chris, you hurt me bad i’m not gonna lie. I do everything I can in my power to be there for our babies, I just wish you could see that.”

“I do see it, trust me I do. It was so so stupid of me to even accuse you of something like that, I shoulda been taking care of you as soon as I got back. I-I heard from ma-“

“It’s okay Chrissy, I’m fine now, now that you’re back. Just please don’t hurt me like this again, I gave you my heart, don’t stomp on it.”

“I won’t butterfly, i’d rather meet death himself before letting that happen again. Now let’s get to sleep, because I have something planned for you tomorrow yeah?”

“You do?”

“Mhm so shut those pretty eyes of yours and let me cuddle on ya”

“Okay okay mr bossy pants” Y/n laughed turning around into a spooning position, the tension from their heated argument slowly dissolving thankfully. They both knew this fight wouldn’t even be remembered in a weeks time, that’s how well they worked together, sure they had their bumps but so does everyone. It all just depends on how you overcome it, together.

“Oi, just sleep will ya?” Chris laughed pressing kisses to her neck, her lemon scented shampoo filling his nostrils. Her hands placed over his on her stomach, their legs all tangled up under the sheets, frankly to keep her icy ones warmed up. This was what he missed most, just this.

———

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @vrittivsanghavi @dumb-fawkin-bitch @patzammit @pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @mirikusashes @taramaria @mysticfalls01 @emvebee @annajustwrites @mischiefsemimanaged @madebylilly @marvelgurl @cevansgurl @chrisevansangel @chrisevansdaughter @evanstanwhore @caps-shield1918 @seren-a-ity@mrspeacem1nusone @itsaylayay1213 @kimhtoo17 @tojisbabymomma @bxdbxtxh15 @tinyelfperson @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @royalwriteroftheuniverse @fdl305 @mdpplgtz03 @xoxokiaraaxoxo @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @adoreyouusugar @imboredat2am @meetmeatyourworst @mansaaay @girl-of-multi-fandoms @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @oliviah-25 @s-void @aerangi @roofwitty779 @alina02 @bookfrog242 @alexxavicry @bluebellsn @feltonswifesworld87 @ravenhood2792 @lastwandastan @angelmather1 @diyabhanushali1 @bval-1

#romance #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans one shot

2K notes · View notes

lexxspark · 4 months

Text

Mike Schmidt Blurb: Nails

Nightmare trope! Mike has a nightmare while you guys are in bed and you find the best way to soothe him back to sleep.

A/N : I can’t escape my roots, I always eat up the nightmare trope.

Tags: established relationship! Hurt/comfort of course and mike x caring!reader

not proofread🙌🏻

You lay in bed peacefully asleep until you hear faint whispers and whimpers coming from the man sleeping next to you. At first you don’t think anything of it. It’s only when you hear a quiet sob and then a whisper of your name do you realize what’s happening.

Your boyfriend of a few months, Mike, had a horrible past. His brother went missing and he carries the guilt with him every day, his parents passing away leaving his little sister and him all eachother had. You met by babysitting Abby while he worked, then you got closer sharing hearts to hearts and opening up to eachother. He was the shy type so it was surprising that he opened up to you, but he knew it felt right. After he got up the courage to take you on a nice date with your favorite flowers and a reservation at your favorite restaurant, it was only a matter of time before he was helping you carry your moving boxes into his bedroom.

You sat up and looked over to him, his eyes were closed but his brows were furrowed In concern and fear. He was also very tense, you placed your hand on his arm and you could feel him flexing and relaxing in his sleep. He was turned to the side away from you, curled up a bit. You rubbed his arm and said his name, comforting him that it was just a dream and reassuring him that you were right here.

Mike’s eyes shot open, his breath was ragged as he sat up and looked around the room, searching for you and rubbing his eyes.

“Mike, I’m right here. Hey, you okay? Everything’s alright now love it was just a dream.” You looked at him, your hand on his cheek bringing him to look at you.

“Fuck, y/n I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.” His face was in his hands now, not wanting you to see him this way. Mike has always been riddled with nightmares and that was a part of him he was scared to share with you because he was an over thinker, worried you would grow tired of comforting him and you’d leave.

“Don’t be sorry. You know it happens, happens to me too. I’m right here through everything Mike you know that. I’m not going anywhere.” You grabbed his face gently for him to look at you. You rubbed small circles on his cheek with your thumb and he was reminded of you. Reminded of how much you cared for him and how he would do anything for you.

“Come lay back down with me?” Mike didn’t even respond he just wrapped his arms around you and you fell back into the bed, his head falling on your chest. In return you began playing with his hair to soothe him, not thinking much of it.

You heard a small whine come from him as he held you closer. You quickly asked him what was wrong and he said in almost a whisper, ”Baby your nails. Feels really, really nice.” You were confused for a moment until you remembered. You had gotten your nails done with Abby while Mike was at work. Just some simple long almond shape acrylics. You were using the tips of your nails to scratch mikes scalp and hair absentmindedly.

“Oh Mikey, I’m sorry.” you said gently.

“Nonono, don’t be sorry it’s so nice. It feels so good.” He said in response, that last sentence coming out in a whimper.

You laughed a bit before saying,”Anything to help you feel better baby. Sleep good for me okay?”

“I really love you.”

“I love you more Mike, you know that.”

And with that the two of you fell peacefully back to sleep. <3

A/n : thanks for reading! Happy holidays guys🗣️

#josh hutcherson #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt blurb

151 notes · View notes

wintersoldiersoul · 5 months

Text

She's Here

Summary: When you lose one of the most important people in your life, Bucky is there to support you

TWS: Death of a loved one (best friend), suicide and depression, grief, angst, fluff, talk about what happens after death

You were at your happiest just sitting on the couch with Bucky. It was a rare occurrence that you both had free time like this so you took full advantage when you did. Your body rested against his with his arms wrapped around you, both of you focused on the movie playing on the tv screen. Bucky’s hand idly played with your hair, running the strands through his fingers in the most comforting way.

Suddenly, your phone rang, breaking you out of the peaceful trance you had been in. It was a random number, so you ignored it. But then it rang again. And again. You answered it, curiosity peaked at who was calling you so many times.

“Y/N?” A female voice said over the line. “It’s Y/B/F/N’s mom.” The woman was clearly crying.

Your heart rate picked up. Why was your best friend’s mother calling you at this hour on a friday night? “Is everything okay?” You said, panic rising in your own voice. Bucky’s eyes were fixed on you as you sat up, suddenly much more alert than you had been.

You went stone cold at the next words. She was dead. Your best friend in the entire world, was dead. She had killed herself. She had lost the battle with depression that you knew she had faced her entire life.

You hung up the phone a moment later with shaking hands. You stared out into the vast openness off the room, not knowing what to do.

“Baby?” Bucky whispered. He knew something was wrong.

“She’s dead.” Your voice was barely audible. You couldn’t believe you were saying the words out loud. Just hours ago you had spoken to your best friend on the phone, talking about her upcoming trip to visit you in New York. “Y/B/F/N is dead.”

“What do you need?” Bucky asked immediately. He wanted to wrap you up and hold you but he also understood if you just needed space. He didn’t wanna startle you.

You looked up at him, mouth open, trying to find words. You had no idea what you needed at this moment.

Your body fell into him as the sobs started to wrack your body. He held you close, like he was afraid you might slip away. “I’m so so sorry,” he whispered.

Bucky was no stranger to losing people that he loved. Sure, it might not have been exactly the same. He had woken up from decades of brainwashing in a brand new world, a world where everyone he loved was dead. But still, he understood the feeling of grief.

He knew how close you and your best friend were. You had grown up together. Had done everything together. You never missed your weekly calls, even if you were busy. You always made the time because she was the most important person in your life, next to Bucky. Losing her was like losing half of yourself.

“I-I don’t know what to do!” You cried, struggling to breathe.

Bucky didn’t let go of you that night, carrying you to bed while you sobbed until he finally got you calm enough to sleep.

Three days later

You stared at your reflection in the mirror. This isn’t real, you thought as you smoothed the black dress on your body. This isn't real. She’s gonna call me any second.

“Are you ready?” Bucky’s gentle voice said. He sounded so far away. Everything sounded, and felt so far away. This isn’t real.

You sighed. “No. I don’t think there’s any way for me to be ready for this.”

“Today is gonna be hard, I’m not gonna lie.” He walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your frame from behind, just trying to give you comfort in any way. “But I’ll be there the whole time. I’ll be right next to you.”

You cried when you saw her parents. Her siblings. You cried again when the service started, but pulled yourself together before it was your turn to speak.

“Hi everyone,” you began, voice already shaking. “My name is Y/N. Y/B/F/N was my best friend in the entire world. She was my sister.” Your voice cracked as you spoke and you paused to collect yourself. “It’s impossible to put our friendship into words.” You couldn’t control it anymore as a sob rang out from the depths of your body. Bucky immediately rushed up, prepared to do whatever you needed to help you get through the speech. “I-I can’t,” you whispered so only he could hear it.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he said quietly. He unwrapped himself from you and took your place at the podium. “We became friends on the first day of kindergarten,” Bucky spoke, reading your words for you to the crowd. “The first thing she said to me was that my shoes were ugly and that we had to hang out so that she could pick out new ones for me.”

You watched from the side as his steady voice recounted your relationship with your best friend. You wished you were stronger. That you could have read the words yourself. But at least Bucky was there to step in when you couldn’t. It was important to you that the things you had written were heard by everyone in that room.

Back at her mother’s house, after the service, you greeted person after person who gave their condolences. It felt like a broken record, sitting there, saying thank you to each and every person who walked through the door. You were exhausted.

“We can go home, baby,” Bucky said, noticing the sad, empty look in your eyes.

You nodded in agreement, suddenly unable to bear another moment of the current setting you were in.

“I could have done more.” Those were the first words you said when you and Bucky walked into the threshold of your home. “I could have helped her! I could have saved her!”

“Oh angel…” He hugged you, rubbing a comforting hand up and down your back. “You were always there for her. Every single day. You never missed a phone call, never left a text unanswered. She was your world. And she knew that. Trust me, she knew.”

“But what if there was something else I could have done?” You raised your voice, the anger stage of grief beginning to hit. “I should have noticed she wasn’t okay! I- I thought she was better! I thought she was doing better but she wasn’t and I should have known!”

Bucky’s eyes were full of pain. His heart was shattered into so many pieces on your behalf. “Listen to me. You did everything that you could. This is not your fault.”

“I just…” your voice trailed off. “I should have known,” you finished, quietly. “I wish I could tell her how much I love her just one more time. I need her to know.” Hot tears burned down your face.

“She knows. Somewhere, somehow, she knows. She will always know.”

Later that night, you and Bucky laid in bed. “What do you believe in, when it comes to death?” you asked.

“Honestly? I have no idea,” he said. “I don’t know if I believe in heaven and hell in a traditional sense. But since I don’t know, I chose to believe whatever brings me comfort. I think that people who pass are watching over us, somehow. I like to believe that they can see us and hear us. And that they show themselves to us through the little things. Like a breeze blowing when you think of them. Or even a dream. I think that the dead have their ways of communicating with us.” He stroked your hair as he spoke.

“I like that,” you replied. “I’ve never really known what to believe either. I guess I’ve never really believed in anything. But you’re right. If we don’t know what actually happens, we have to believe in whatever gives comfort.”

“She’s here with you, baby. Somehow, she’s here. And she knows how much you love and miss her.”

You curled up against him. “I don’t know how to live without her,” you said, another round of tears spilling.

“She’s with you, honey. She is.”

A week later, you and Bucky were on a walk. He tried to get you out of the house as much as possible, terrified that your grief would overtake you and pull you into a darkness that you’d never climb out of.

“Tell me a story about her,” he said, his hand clutching yours.

“She loved rain,” you laughed lightly. “She was always forcing me to go outside in the rain with her. I don’t know why. But I can’t even tell you how many times we just ran around, getting soaked until we both ended up with colds.”

Bucky smiled at you as you spoke, telling him stories about you and your best friend and how you would stay outside for hours getting drenched.

As you continued, the sky turned gray. Thick, heavy raindrops pounded on the pavement.

“See that?” Bucky said. “She’s here with you. She’ll always be here.”

198 notes · View notes

bettyfrommars · 11 months

Text

I'm on Fire//biker!older!Eddie x fem!artist!Reader//biker!Steve//90's au//Part 10

🚨18+Only, smut, oral (m receiving), talk of erection, size kink, swallowing, biker gang, biker!Eddie, biker!Steve, talk of drug use, threats, talk of violence, financial trouble, mention of jail, smoking cigarettes, alcohol consumption, trouble at home, co-parents!Stobin, suggested custody issues, angst, underlying fear of retaliation. Word count: 8.7k

This is mostly just a sweet lil chapter to heal some wounds, right before some old wounds start opening.

Series Masterlist

A/N: I tried to make this part completely void of angst, but alas, I did not succeed. I'm working on a summertime one shot idea for the boys to go to a bike rally with all of the shenanigans that could possibly ensue; it should be a wild one. Big love to my beta @michellecrusher for deciding that this chapter could use a touch of smut.

As always, I'm honored to be on this ride with you and look forward to any and all interactions. Comments, messages, reblogs; it all means so much to me and is what keeps this little world going ❤️‍🔥

-----

I'm on Fire Part 10: I got a bad desire

-----

Landing with your face on the puke-stained, beer dribbled carpet of the Velvet Hammer, dusted in a sprinkle of cigarette ash, was not how you wanted to start your evening. You hadn’t even realized you hit the ground until you heard Steve’s voice demanding everyone get the fuck out of his way as he parted bodies to get to you.

And then, Erika’s voice: “I don’t know what happened...she just...fell. I promise, I didn’t touch her!”

People were murmuring around you and Steve was saying your name as you started to come back to reality, taking a deep inhale, blinking back to life. He knelt and propped you up into a sitting position, and that was when the embarrassment of what had just happened began to wash over you, making you wish that a hole in the ground would swallow you up.

“Do you think you can stand?” Steve asked while his big hands found positions under your arms in preparation to lift you up. You turned your head to look at him; his wayfarer sunglasses had fallen from the top of his head to the tip of his nose, and they were about to slip off, but his concern was more with not letting you go.

“What happened?” He asked as he pulled you to your feet, taking a second to grab the sunglasses off his face and throw them on the bar. “Did someone push you?”

“Please. Get me out of here,” you begged as one of your arms went around his shoulders, and one of his hands secured itself at your waist.

He set you down on a chair in front of the employee lockers and told you he’d get someone to cover the door for him while he took you home, or he’d see if one of the girls could stop by.

With your hands between your knees and your shoulders slumped, you began to come to terms with everything as he picked up the phone in the office.

“Wait,” you stopped him. “I can’t afford to miss a day of work, Steve, I’ll be fine. Just...just give me a second to catch my breath.”

Steve understood what a hard spot that was to be in; he lived it almost every day of his life. He put the receiver back down on the cradle.

“What did that bitch say to you?” Steve asked, putting his foot up on the bench.

You shook your head. “That’s just it, she’s not a bitch,” you chewed your lip. “She just saved me from making a huge mistake. I owe her.”

Steve was on his way back out to the floor when you called to him. “Hey, does Eddie have any female friends who are redheads, that you know of? Really pretty, tattoo on her bicep? Someone he’d feel comfortable enough with to let stay at his place?”

Steve popped his knee out and put his hands on his hips, frowning. “No one that he’s...dated, I don’t think,” he rubbed his chin in thought. “But there’s Max, she’s more like a sister to us. I just tattooed her a few weeks ago. Her hair was like a bright, candy red. Why do you ask?”

You turned away from Steve and squeezed your eyes shut, a sob caught in your throat. The sudden rush of relief at so many groundbreaking realizations had your emotions on the verge of short-circuiting. Eddie still had quite a bit of explaining to do, but the tight bud of your heart was blooming like a rose in your chest once again, full of hope.

----------

Meanwhile, Eddie was officially going stir crazy. “I need to get out of this house,” he told Robin has he hitched through the kitchen, careful not to put too much weight on the hip was right below his wound. He was wearing his jeans unbuttoned, so they hung a bit low, bangs swept across his forehead, and one of Steve’s white wife beaters that was too small for him. The thin material exposed the tattoos on his chest and stomach, as well as the ones scattered from neck to hands. He’d spent the afternoon watching cartoons with Oliver, which was enjoyable, but relaxing and sitting still for long periods of time just wasn’t in his DNA.

Also, he wasn’t sure if it was an affect of the morphine, but he’d had another one of his nightmares early that morning, before dawn, and shouted himself awake, covered in sweat. It was the same dream that had tortured him off and on for over a decade; the one where he’s being attacked by a swarm of flesh-eating bat creatures, they’re all taking big bite out of his flesh, and he wakes up to the feeling of choking on his own blood.

“Over my dead body,” Robin challenged, moving from the stove with a wooden spoon covered in macaroni and cheese in her hand.

Eddie’s eyes traveled to the spoon and then back to her face. “That can be arranged.”

“Seriously, dude,” her shoulders sank. “Don’t make me hog tie you to the couch. I promised Astrid we’d keep an eye on you for another night.”

“I have a business to run, Rob,” he said as he hobbled over to grab his leather from the back of the one of the dining chairs. “If this were a hospital, they would’ve kicked me to the curb by now.”

Robin went back to the stove to stir the powdered cheese in with the noodles. She knew that no one could stop him if he wanted to go, and she really couldn’t blame him.

With her back to him she said, “if you end up getting some type of infection and your foot falls off, I won’t ever forgive you.”

Oliver came trotting out from the other room to say goodbye, and he raised his arms for Eddie to pick him up, which he did—and Robin glanced over just in time to see the grimace of pain flash across Eddie’s face as he settled the boy on the wrong hip at first before switching him to the other side. She shook her head, certain he would pop his stitches by the end of the day.

“Steve brought your bike up the hill,” she let him know, while she packed up some medications for him to take. “Your girlfriend is at work by now, I believe.”

Eddie’s eyes snapped to hers as he put Oliver down. “Why’d you call her that?”

“Isn’t she?” Robin challenged, raising her eyebrow. “I can tell you knew exactly who I was talking about.”

Eddie couldn’t help the smile that twitched across his lips.

----------

The Velvet Hammer was packed that night, and by the end of your shift, after very little food, no sleep, and one blackout, you were a bit wobbly on your feet. Steve had to work as security for a while longer, since there was a bachelor party in attendance that was getting a bit rowdy, but he demanded you let him walk you to your car while he had a smoke.

“So, I like Astrid,” you told him. He held out his cigarette to offer you a drag, but you declined with a wave of your hand. “What’s going on with you two?”

“Going on?” Steve put the cig to his lips with thumb and forefinger.

You adjusted your bag on your shoulder as you made room for a group of people to pass on the sidewalk. “You know what I mean,” you insisted, knowing full well that he did. “You two seemed really close last night. I was just curious.”

“Oh, I’m fuckin’ in love with her,” Steve announced with a shrug, as if it were common knowledge. “We just don’t have a conventional relationship, I guess. No one seems to understand it but us.”

You wondered, sincerely, how many women Steve had been in love with in his life. But, you could tell that there was, indeed, something special about the connection he had with Astrid. You wondered if Eddie looked at you the way Steve had looked at her last night.

Steve hung around to make sure you got in your car okay, and then you chuckled to yourself as he sauntered off, flirting with a group of women who were walking by, asking them to come by the bar and keep him company. You were about to maneuver your way out of the precarious parallel spot you were wedged in when your eyes locked on a piece of folded paper held to the windshield under one of the wipers.

At first, you thought it was ticket of some sort, like maybe you were in a no parking zone or something. But then, at closer examination, you realized it was made with blue-lined notebook paper.

It was a handwritten note.

The street was fairly busy that night with cars zooming around town, so you were cautious as you dashed out to pinch it free and pull it back into the safety of the car with you.

It was a...little paper origami duck? Or some kind of bird? You turned it around, inspecting the intricately folded parts, giggling curiously as you did so. You unfastened the delicate edges, careful not to rip it in haste. Finally, you were able to press a flat, albeit crumpled, half sheet of paper against your steering wheel, your heart shot into your throat, melting there like a fat stick of butter.

It was from Eddie:

I miss you. Come to my place so we can talk? It doesn’t matter how late.

-- E

P.S. Oliver wants to make this into a swan for you

Hopeful tears pooled at your lash line and you checked your watch; it was just after 11:30. Surely, they’d be keeping him at Steve’s for another night? But, if so, he would’ve said that and not, specifically “his place”. You tried to fold it back exactly the way it was, failed miserably, and ended up folding it in half without messing up any of the edges to place it safely in your middle console.

For a few seconds as you sat in your car with the radio on, listening to Nearly Lost You by The Screaming Trees, you wondered if you should play hard to get, if maybe rushing over to his place was not the right game to play. But really, truly, you didn’t give a shit about any of that.

You were blinking excessively and yawning, and you had this feeling like, if you rested your head back against the seat, you’d fall asleep right there in your car. But, you took a few deep breaths and patted your cheeks. You brought a can of Coke in your bag from the bar and cracked it open to guzzle some of it, thinking maybe you’d need to go home first and change? Or go straight to Eddie’s? Fall asleep in your car was still an option.

Fuck.

-----------

Earlier that day, around 5 o’clock, Eddie hissed as he dismounted his bike at the garage, clutching his side, trying to mask the spasm of pain, only to see Wayne watching him from the main garage. His uncle nodded in greeting, just wanting to make sure Eddie was okay, as he wiped his hands, and then turned around to finish what he was working on. So much of the communication they shared was silent, but understood.

He had the note in his pocket that Oliver had made into an origami animal, and he wanted to tidy up his place a bit before he did some work, just in case you did actually come over. If you didn’t, he wouldn’t blame you—it had been an especially long 24 hours. But, damn, he really needed to see you, to try and fix whatever had gone wrong, if he even could.

He still didn’t know what Charlene had done to upset you, but his mind reeled with the possibilities.

Eddie had ripped the bandage off his cheek on the way over, so there was just an angry gash there with a few stitches holding it together like a twist tie to a bunch of hammers, and he didn’t realize how much he resembled Frankenstein’s Monster until the new office assistance choked on her soda at the sight of him.

“Rough night?” She asked. Her name was Dana and she’d worked at garages before, but never for one that was affiliated with an MC.

“You could say that,” Eddie returned as he headed over to one of the metal filing cabinets to look for something.

Dana had a few “while you were out” slips of paper she had filled out with phone numbers and people who had wanted to speak with Eddie or Wayne, and she went over them with him while she chewed a red piece of gum.

She finished the last one and then, “oh, yeah, and someone called here looking for a…” she checked the piece of paper. “...Steve Harrington?”

Eddie nodded, taking something he needed out of the file before shutting the drawer. “He’s a buddy of mine. What’s the message?”

Dana scratched her head. “She didn’t say what it was about, just said that it was a personal matter,” she showed Eddie the pink piece of paper with a phone number and name on it. “Said her name was Christina? I don’t recognize the area code.”

“Could you look up Steve in the address book in that first drawer and relay the message for me? He’s in there under Dingus. I gotta run this out to the---”

Dana spelled out Dingus on the piece of paper, without questioning it, and then looked at the round clock on the wall, nervously. “Actually, I should’ve been gone a half hour ago. I need to pick up my daughter from--”

Eddie waved the papers in his hand. “Of course, I’m sorry I’ve been...distracted. Do me a favor and call him when you get in on Monday? I’m sure it can wait till then.”

The name Christina did not ring a bell at the time, but later on, he’d wish that it had.

--------

You decided to go home first to freshen up a bit, but also, you wanted to pick up the photos to show Eddie. Katie was asleep, but you made yourself some coffee and tiptoed around, wishing you had time to shower because you reeked of secondhand smoke, but then realized Eddie probably wouldn’t notice anyway.

You were nervous as you pulled into the gates of the compound; your heart was racing and your palms started to sweat. His black and chrome bike with the menacing, purple flock of bats on the tank was parked right up close to his door, and you angled your car right in next to it.

Once you turned your car off, you could hear the faint sound of music drifting down from the open window in his apartment. The song was Love You to Death by Type O Negative, and you glanced up just in time to see his shadow pull from the window, as if he’d been standing there, watching you drive up.

---------

Up in his apartment, Eddie cracked his knuckles, ignoring the fact that the skin on them was still raw and one of his fingers was probably sprained because it throbbed like a motherfucker. He wanted to make sure everything looked okay before he ran down to meet you at the front door. The TV was on mute, he’d been watching Unsolved Mysteries, but now an episode of the X-Files was starting. There were clean sheets on the bed—just in case---and he’d been on his hands and knees cleaning the bathroom for a good half hour. There was a vanilla candle burning on the nightstand, and he had lit some Nag Champa incense earlier to try and mask the fact that he’d just smoked a couple cigarettes to calm his nerves. He turned the music down a tad and wondered if Type O was too on-the-nose for such an evening, like maybe you’d think he was setting some tawdry scene, when in actuality, he listened to their music all the damn time. He had on the only pair of dark denim Levi’s he owned without holes in them, a black Faith No More shirt that had the neck and sleeves ripped off of it, and his black converse, which were a nice change from the heavy boots he always wore. He slipped his rings on and used his pinky to clean some sleep out of his eyes just before he headed down to greet you.

---------

You were just about to knock, knuckle poised in the air, when the door flew open.

“Hey,” Eddie stood there looking flushed, lips parted, dragging one hand down his stomach as his pupils dilated to take you in.

You gulped. “Hey. Is this too late? I wasn’t sure if you really meant---”

“Oh I really want you here,” Eddie stepped back, holding the door open with his body.

You were just going to walk through without making any physical contact, but then you found your body being sucked against his, as if by some gravitational pull, and you both sunk into each other. He was quick to put his arms around you, hugging you tighter, securing you to him as if your body was oxygen.

“I know we’ve got a lot to talk about,” he planted his lips on the top of your head, only removing them to speak. “I want to make it right, baby. I don’t ever want to hurt you, and I would never let anyone hurt---”

“I believe you,” you answered, moving further inside, wanting to get behind closed doors with him.

There were old, squeaky wood stairs that led up to the narrow hallway, and you held onto one of his belt loops as you followed him up, pausing so he could open the door and extend his arm for you to enter.

“So, this is where the magic happens,” you teased, taking in the open space that was bedroom, living room, and kitchen all in one. There were Iron Maiden and Slayer posters on the wall, a Harley Davidson plaque, as well as your painting, which was the first thing anyone saw when they walked in. Directly to your right was a hallway that looked like closet space and a door to a bathroom. It was a spacious, warehouse style loft with wood floors and a few round, woven rugs.

The windows...the windows were huge.

Eddie snorted at your comment, and was just about to turn around to take you into his arms again, when you bolted over to start busying yourself with lowering the curtains, starting with the window that faced the other side of the street.

“You really should keep these closed,” you told him, leaning over a table with a turntable and an 80’s style boombox. The pull did not work for the second curtain, and your frustration was mounting as you yanked at it, just as Eddie stepped over and put his hand on the cord.

“Let me do it, baby,” he met your eyes, trying to see if he could guess what had triggered such a frenzy.

While he finished dropping the blinds, you took the photos out of your bag, extending them when he turned around. You sat down at the end of the bed and watched his face as he slipped the contents out of the manila envelope to look at them.

He glanced at you a few times as he flipped through the photos, and his expression ebbed from confusion to anger and back again.

Eddie was shaking his head, hair hanging down, his strong fingers curling as if he wanted to crumple them up. “These aren’t...this is not what it looks like,” his eyes searched yours.

“I know,” you looked down, biting your top lip with your bottom teeth. “Erica told me you were set up. And Steve told me about...your other friend.”

The muscles in Eddie’s jaw tensed, teeth grinding, as his eyes narrowed on the window where most of the photos had been taken from. “Some fucker has been watching me this whole time?” The irrational part of Eddie wondered if the guy was over there, somewhere in the abandoned building, right at that moment. Maybe he should go over and introduce himself, possibly break the guys face with his own camera. Break his hands and throw him out the third story window while he was at it.

The photos were starting to make Eddie feel sick with rage, so he put them back in the envelope. Your bloodshot eyes fluttered and he could see how tired you were.

“Who would do this?” You asked, earnestly. “More importantly, why would they do it? I haven’t been here long enough to make enemies. Not of this caliber, anyway.”

Eddie put the envelope on top of the kitchen counter and sat down next to you on the bed with a heavy sigh. He had his hands resting on his knees, but then he took a chance and slid one arm over to interlace his fingers with yours, and you let him. He squeezed your hand. “It’s a long story, but a while back I made a mistake and got involved with this woman who--”

“Charlene Gregson?” She’d always been at the top of your list for someone who would have the motive for something so unnecessarily heinous.

“That’s the one,” he brought your hand over across his leg. “That’s where I went last night, to try and stop her, I suppose. I guess I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

That made a laugh bubble out of your chest for some reason. “What was your plan? Crash through her gates on your motorcycle on a cloud of smoke and seek vengeance?”

Eddie shrugged his shoulders. “Hey, it always works out in the movies.”

You giggled and pulled away, but then he tugged you back, and you were still smiling as he scooped his hand around your cheek and pulled you in for a kiss, little hiccups of laughter erupting between kisses tongues slipping in ever so gently; Mulder and Scully having a conversation on the TV in the background. You held onto his wrist, sinking deeper into the yearning that you always felt for him, pulling back only to rub the tips of your noses together, lips grazing.

“Stay here with me tonight?” Eddie whispered, pressing his forehead to yours. “I want to hold you.”

You were sure, you were almost positive, that you had just fallen asleep for a second while he was talking, and you blinked hard just as he lifted his eyes to meet yours.

“But I stink, I smell like the Velvet Hammer. I didn’t have a chance to shower,” you mewed, feeling your body slump further into hibernation mode as the adrenaline from the past two days wore off.

“You don’t stink,” Eddie assured you. “You can sleep in one of my shirts, and you can use my toothbrush, if you don’t mind my germs.” He had your hand in his and was holding it to his chest as he watched your face.

“I figured you’d have plenty of extra toothbrushes here for all of the copious amounts of women who sleep over,” your exhaustion was making you feisty.

Eddie gave an exaggerated sigh. “Well, I do have a few extras for emergencies. But I’ve never offered up my own personal toothbrush before.”

“Goodbye,” you chirped, standing up, ready to leave.

But Eddie chuckled and caught you around the waist, throwing you down on the bed next to him with a bounce and a grunt.

You were doing a poor job of stiffing your own laughter as you tried to keep a serious face, but then he moved to crawl on top of you and you watched his face seize in pain. He stiffened and put his hand over the area where his knife wound was, easing himself onto his back. While Eddie silently prayed that he hadn’t ripped his stitches, you went around the side of the bed to click the lamp off. You turned the TV off too; the music was on low, but that you didn’t mind.

“We are quite a pair tonight,” Eddie mumbled from the bed, slightly incapacitated, as he watched you moved around his apartment.

You loved the idea of sleeping in one of his shirts and hygiene and all that jazz, but in that moment—you weren’t sure you could last another second. Your lids were heavy and your conversation skills were at an all time low. With rubbery limbs, you climbed on the dark blue comforter of his bed and curled against him, making sure it was the side he hadn’t been stabbed on. Flat on his back, Eddie’s eyes never left you, and he was ready with his arm high and outstretched for your head to make a pillow out of his shoulder.

“I can’t keep my eyes open for another second,” you yawned. You grabbed his chest to pull yourself closer, like he was a pillow, and he kissed your forehead.

You kissed the gash on his cheek, nuzzling the hair just above his ear, planting more kisses as you went. Eddie felt his cock spring to life in his jeans and he was too exhausted to do anything about it. You cupped your hand on the side of his neck, kissed the corner of his mouth, and then finally let your cheek fall to his shoulder with a flop.

Eddie took hold of your leg at the crook of your knee to pull it across his hips, needing to feel your weight, not wanting to let you get away. He closed his eyes, drowning in the feel of your soft puffs of breath on his neck, your chest moving up and down on his arm. He planted his lips to your head again, giving a few audible smooches before he rested his torn cheek lightly against you.

He wrapped his arm around tighter, bringing you closer. “You know, Robin called you my girlfriend today,” he admitted, a low laugh rumbling from his chest.

The only response you could manage was, “mmmpfm?”

The stubble of his jaw grazed your forehead as he contemplated what he was about to say. He’d just been stabbed, and it made him consider his mortality, and the time he had left.

“I was thinking,” he breathed. “If you like the sound of that, maybe we could, make it official? That is, if you could ever see yourself having a dirtbag like me as a boyfriend.”

Your body had gone limp and, in the following seconds while he waited for a response, he heard a soft whistle in your nose and a snore catch in the back of your throat. A few drops of drool started pooling from the side of your mouth and made a wet spot on his shirt.

Eddie chuckled, peeking down at you, but trying not to move too much, not realizing he was about to drift off to sleep as well.

-----------

You weren’t sure what time it was when your head rolled off of Eddie’s shoulder, jerking you awake, but it was dark outside, and you were still in the same position you were when you passed out: hand loosely cupping his neck, and your leg stretched across his hips. His head had rolled to the side, away from you, full lips parted, and the blue glow from the stereo cast a moody light on his skin, making his cheek wound look like something out of science fiction.

Still half asleep, you kissed the exposed muscles of his throat, right at the spot where the dark lines from his back tattoo came up across his neck, and your hand slid down his chest; you didn’t have a plan, you just wanted to feel him. His breathing was steady and shallow, eyeballs dancing under his lids. Your hand met with the top of his jeans, and then your eyes widened at the bulge that was causing a huge gap from skin to denim.

You slid your leg off of him, letting your hand move down a bit further, and your hand had to widen over his clothing to pass over the expanse of his arousal there.

Without even realizing it, you had started thrusting your hips against him, working your core against his hip, and then you lifted up to kiss his chin, aching to find his mouth with yours. You’d gone over to his place with every intention of being intimate with him, and nature had intervened with other plans, but you still wanted him to know how bad you wanted him, how much you craved him every second of the day.

Eddie groaned awake to return your kiss, and one of his hands grabbed your face. “Who is this greedy girl?” He mumbled against your mouth, his eyes droopy.

You straddled him, keeping your knees low, at his thighs, careful not to hit his wound. You started to move your core up and down along the bulge under his jeans, and then you leaned forward to brush your lips against his as you spoke. “You’re so hard, let me take care of it.”

Eddie whimpered a little in the back of his throat. “You can take whatever you want, baby,” and then a visible shiver ran through his body at the mere thought of your mouth on his cock.

You inched your way down, sucking hickeys into the dark tattoos spread across his stomach and chest, avoiding the medical tape from his bandage. Eddie moaned and threw his head back as you licked along the inside of his hip, unzipping his jeans to pull them down.

No boxers underneath, his huge cock sprang free, and the sight of the pre-cum already dripping from the pink tip made your mouth water. Eddie bit his lip while he watched you from under hooded eyes as you took control, pulled his jeans down further, and straddled his leg.

You bent over, and kept eye contact with him as you licked all the way down the shaft, and then wet the tip with your mouth, flicking your tongue along the slit, cleaning up his primal release.

Eddie pupils were blown, his lips parted as he watched.

“Whose cock is this?” You asked, teasing the tip with your wet mouth, planting hungry kisses down his shaft.

Eddie choked a little in the back of his throat. “It’s—it’s yours baby.”

He was already rock hard—throbbing, even---and your core flowered open beneath your clothes, soaking your underwear to the point that you actually had to reach down and touch yourself as you sucked him. Eddie noticed this and it made him mumble, “fuckbabyfuck,” as his leg squirmed, digging his heel into the bed.

You worked the tip of his cock with your hand while you sucked one of his balls into your mouth, and you couldn’t help but smile a little at how crazy it was making him.

Somehow, between sleeping on someone else’s couch and working, Eddie had neglected to jerk off recently, and so he was about to….

“Fuck, baby, right there,” he hissed, bucking his hips. “You’re gonna make me…”

You went back to work, gripping him with hand and mouth in tandem, lips stretching to take all of him, eyes watering, swallowing his tip in the back of your throat every so often, as he watched you with a furrowed brow, cursing under his breath.

Suddenly, his breath started to hitch, and the fingers of one of his hands dug into the comforter. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum baby...if you want it...like that…”

He was warning you as if you’d pull your mouth off and jerk him the rest of the way, but you wanted all of it in your mouth. You moaned as you sucked at the tip, pulling the orgasm out of him, saliva dripping down his balls.

Eddie let out a whimper and his leg jerked just before he stilled, and you tasted the salty sweetness of his warm cum shoot into the back of your throat in bursts. You drank his spend like his dick was a straw, throat busy swallowing every drop, moaning as you did so. You milked the tip for all he could give you, and then you cleaned him up with your greedy tongue, planting kisses on his cock when he was done with his release.

Eddie stared at the ceiling, slightly shook. “How are you so good at that?”

You sighed a quick laugh, licking your lips, as you made your way to the bathroom to finally brush your teeth. When you came back out, he was already asleep.

------------

As your eyes opened and adjusted to a sliver of buttery light peeking in from the curtain, your mind put you in several places. First, you were in your childhood bedroom, feeling like you needed to get up and ready for school, and then you were in the more recent bed in the house you shared with Katie. But, then the Iron Maiden poster came into focus and you were slammed with the realization that you had passed out in Eddie’s bed and it was already morning. Your intention had been to take a nap for an hour or two, but now you were alert to the idea that Eddie might still be somewhere in the room.

You remembered falling asleep on Eddie’s shoulder, waking up hungry for his cock, but now you were facing in the other direction, there was a blanket over you, and someone had taken your shoes off. It was Sunday, so the garage was closed, but you could still hear voices down below and the sound of a car engine revving. You reached your hand behind you to pat the bed, but only found an empty space; either Eddie was in the bathroom or he had already gone downstairs to start his day. God, what time was it?

You rolled over to crawl across the bed to look at the digital alarm clock, inhaling the smell from Eddie’s pillow as you went, and choked a little when you saw it was almost 9:30.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled, throwing the cover off of your body. You couldn’t remember the last time you slept in for that long. A fear that you’d be late for work gripped you, but then you were reminded that you were no longer the director of a gallery, and your new job didn’t start until cocktail hour.

You found your shoes tucked neatly against the sofa, and on the kitchen counter in front of the coffee pot was a note propped up like a little tent with your name on it.

I had to run a tow.

I hope you’re here when I get back.

Thank you for taking it like a good girl last night.

-- E

Eddie and his little notes. You grinned as you folded it up and put it in your pocket, because of course you’d be saving any note he ever left you till the end of time.

It was then that a heavy fist started pounding on the door down below. “Helloooo? Anyone? What the hell do I gotta do to get some service around here?”

----------

Even though the mechanics were all off that day, the towing business was a 24 hour thing. There was another Coffin King named Lou who was usually able to cover some nights and weekends, but when Eddie found himself stuck with a pickup at the worst possible time, he tried to focus on the money and be grateful for it.

He’d considered waking you up to see if you wanted to go with him, but you were sleeping so peacefully, he didn’t have the heart to disturb you. He woke up with his cock so achingly hard thinking about what you did to him in the middle of the night, that he had to jerk off as quietly as possible in the shower that morning. He was sure you’d heard the grunt he barked when he came, thinking about filling you up, listening to you tell him how deep you wanted all of him inside of you.

The last time he went this long without having intercourse with a girl that he had feelings for was maybe his freshman year in high school. The crazy thing was, he was enjoying the feeling of waiting and making it special; even though the holding out part was totally accidental, and he would’ve jumped at the chance to bury himself inside you that very first night you met.

But the way you took care of him last night, holy shit: he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He couldn’t tell if he had really found the Holy Grail of women, or if his feelings for you had made it as intense as it was; possibly a bit of both. He was seized with memories of your mouth on him off and on while he was on the job, and he’d have to slyly adjust himself in his jeans. He couldn’t wait to get back to you.

He started to whistle as he rounded the corner to re-enter the compound, hoping that your car was still there, hoping that he could….

But he spotted a different car in the lot right next to yours that hadn’t been there before, and you were coming out from out of the garage with your hand shielding your eyes, looking deeply concerned.

------------

You considered just letting whoever it was keep on knocking, but at one point, the person yelled: “Eddie! I know you’re here! Don’t make me take your bike for a spin around the block!”

And so, you put your shoes on and went down, wholly unprepared for what you would find.

There were two smiling faces practically pressed up against the glass of the main door as you descended the stairs. One was a guy with a mop of brown curls, and the woman with him had beautiful olive skin, black hair, and wore glasses. They both waved enthusiastically, happy to finally be acknowledged.

------------

“What the hell, Henderson?” Eddie parked the tow truck and jumped down, wallet chain flapping against his jeans. Eddie waved to you across the way, as his mouth opened into a toothy grin, exposing actual cheek dimples, that you’d maybe only seen him wear once or twice.

“If it isn’t the Dungeon Master!” Dustin came toward him with his arms out. “What the hell is up with you and Steve? You’re the two hardest losers to find!”

They hugged, and then Eddie tousled Dustin’s hair, mussing it up. “You haven’t changed a bit, you little goblin.”

Next to you, under the shade of the awning was a very pregnant Suzie, who you’d also just met. She was in a purple floral dress with a white collar, and you’d pulled a chair around for her to have a seat.

“I love to see my Dusty Buns happy again,” she said, passing her hand over the globe of her belly as you both watched the two men embrace. “We should’ve moved back sooner, but life just got away from us.”

“How do you all know each other?” You were just barely able to introduce yourself before Eddie pulled up, and so you had no idea how close the gang was.

“I’m surprised the boys never mentioned Dustin to you? They went to high school together; they’re all really close. Steve is basically Dustin’s surrogate father,” she giggled, lifting her sweet moon-shaped face to you in a soft smile.

You did feel a little self-conscious about not knowing, but there was a good reason for it. “Well, I’m...Eddie and I are…kind of a new thing.” But then you remembered that you did know a little bit about one of their old friends. “They’ve mentioned Max to me. I guess she visited a couple days ago? I didn’t get to meet her though.”

“Maxine is a riot!” Suzie exclaimed. “You’ll get you meet her and Lucas when the baby is born. They said they wanted to be here for the actual birth, but who can really tell when that will be? I’m due in a week, but I was born two weeks early, and my sister’s newest baby was born almost a month late,” her eyes got glossy. “Boy, I really can’t imagine holding this baby in for another hour, let alone another month.”

Eddie had his arm around Dustin’s shoulders as they approached, and he gave him a playful knuckle rub to the head before they parted.

Eddie greeted Suzie, and she went to stand up to hug him, but Eddie quickly bent over and kissed her on the cheek so that she wouldn’t have to move. He swallowed as he took in the enormous state of her pregnant belly. “Shouldn’t you be...resting? Is it too hot out here? Should we go inside? Are you comfortable in that chair?”

Suzie laughed. “My god, Eddie, you’re as bad as Dustin. I’m fine, I promise. I’m trying to shake this baby loose; this little person has rented out my womb for long enough.”

Eddie met your eyes and kissed you on the lips before he put his arm around you and pulled you against him.

It was the wrong side, again, and he winced.

Dustin noticed the look of pain. “What the hell happened to you?”

“He got stabbed,” you volunteered with a sheepish look on your face, tilting your head to Eddie’s shoulder.

“Oh, of course he did,” Dustin said, his mouth wide. “What else would Eddie or Steve be doing on the weekends besides mortal combat?”

Suzie looked concerned, but Eddie assured the group that he was fine. He looked you in the face as he said: “So, did you two get to meet my girl?”

Your cheeks got warm, and you ran your hand up and down his back.

“Only briefly, before you rudely interrupted,” Dustin let him know, moving behind Suzie’s chair to put his hands on her shoulders. Dustin had been worried for a while there that Eddie would never move on from his ex, and that he would always be in a dark head space in regards to romance, and so seeing him with you made his heart feel light.

“You see Steve yet?” Eddie asked. “He’ll be pissed you didn’t come to see him first.”

“Um, not like we didn’t tryyyy,” Dustin raised both eyebrows. “No one was at the house and the tattoo shop wasn’t open yet. I talked to him on the phone a few weeks ago, but we weren’t sure when we’d be in town.”

Eddie thought about that for a second. It was very odd for neither one of them to be home, especially on a Sunday morning. But, there was a chance Robin took Oliver to a shift at work with her and Steve had spent the night at Astrid’s, depending on how early Dustin had popped by.

“I’ll find him,” Eddie assured them both. “Are you staying at your moms house.”

“Hell no,” Dustin responded almost too quickly. “I mean, I love my mother, don’t get me wrong, but she’s been driving us up the wall lately. We’re renting a house a few blocks away from her until everything is finalized at our new place.”

They all made a plan to meet up as soon as they could figure out where Steve and Robin were, and once they were gone, Eddie turned to you, cupping your neck to pull you against him.

“Is it okay that I introduced you as my girl?” He stroked his thumb across your chin as he asked it, chocolate eyes unsure if they should meet your gaze or watch your mouth.

You lifted up to brush your lips across his, tongue peeking out only slightly, making him groan a little. You searched his eyes, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Is that what I am?”

Eddie put his hands on your lower back and brought his head back, wanting to see your whole face. “You tell me. I wanna hear it. Are you my girl?”

You were nodding yes before he even finished. “I’ve been your girl for a long time now, silly boy.”

“Yeah?” Eddie breathed in a chuckle, his cock growing as he met your sweet, eager mouth. He paused only to admit, “I’ve wanted you to be mine since that first day we met.”

----------

Of all the places Steve had hoped to wake up on Sunday morning, a jail cell was not one of them.

He made bail, and Robin was there to pick him up, giving him a dirty look as she did so. He had his sunglasses on, his Coffin Kings cut in his hand, and a cigarette bobbing between his lips as he got into the passenger seat and shut the door. The “seek and destroy” tat on the side of his neck displayed loud and proud.

“Nice shiner,” Robin said under her breath.

“Yeah, well, you should see the other guy,” Steve said, cupping his hands to light his smoke. His black eye was the only visible mark on him, but the dude he had a tussle with had gone to town on Steve’s ribs, and there would definitely be bruises there.

She made a face as she backed out of the parking spot. “You smell like vomit.”

He ignored her observation. “Where’s Ollie?”

“I dropped him at Astrid’s,” she said as she pulled her own sunglasses down from the top of her head to cover her eyes. “I didn’t want him to see this.”

“Why are you acting like this was all my fault?” Steve blanched, flicking ash out the window as they turned out of the courthouse, Somebody to Shove by Soul Asylum playing on the radio. “You don’t even know what happened.”

“I don’t have to know, Steve, that’s the point,” she barked. Her frustration with him was also mixed with a generous amount of worry. “When are you going to grow up and start walking away from danger instead of headlong into it every chance you get?”

“Oh I get it,” Steve said sarcastically. “So, you don’t care that Tina is back in town, and this had everything to do with her?”

Robin hit the breaks and turned to him so fast, a chunk of her hair stuck to her bottom lip. “What do you mean Tina is back in town?”

“Now you care?” He tapped his knee as he took another drag.

Robin felt like she forgot how to breathe, so she pulled over to park haphazardly along the sidewalk at an angle.

She turned the car off but left the air on. “You know how I feel about Tina, but please tell me you didn’t hit her.”

“Oh, fucking of course not,” Steve balked, snapping his head to look at her. He gestured to his black eye with the two fingers holding his cigarette, “this was courtesy of her new fiance. I think they were both on crack. They were waiting for me when I left work last night. Now, all of a sudden, out of the goddamn blue, Tina wants to see Oliver.”

Robin was shaking her head, gripping the steering wheel. “No, no, absolutely not,” she said, definitively. “She disappeared when he was 3 months old. No. There’s no way. She’s a drug addict, she’s a narcissist, no. Not a chance in hell.”

“I know, Rob, believe me. It’s not going to happen, okay?” Steve assured her with a wave of his hand. “At least not until she cleans her life up.”

Christina, Oliver’s biological mother, didn’t have a nurturing bone in her body, and never wanted anything to do with her son, but the fear had always been in the back of his head that one day she’d pop up like a mean, STD rash.

Robin felt her eyes getting moist and she wiped at her cheeks angrily. “Where are her and her fleabag fiance now?”

“Oh I put that scumbag in the hospital so hard,” Steve threw the rest of his cigarette out the window and licked his lips. “He’s lucky I didn’t put him in a grave. I’m sure Tina’s already changed her mind, you know how fickle and selfish she is. They were most likely on a bender and thought they’d come through town and fuck with us. They’re probably on their way back to Memphis by now. I don’t want you to worry about it, okay?”

Robin swallowed a few times, trying to allow him to comfort her. She never expected or intended to fall into this roll and be a mother to Steve’s son. But, it happened. Oliver was their son now, and she loved him as much as if he had grown in her womb. And, she would fight to keep him safe with the same level of conviction.

Steve sniffed and adjusted himself in his seat. “Thank you for bailing me out, by the way.”

Robin snorted as she started the car. “Dingus, I could barely afford the gas to drive over here, and you think I had the cash to bail you out? Get real.”

Steve frowned. “Who was it, then? They said I made bail. Otherwise, I’d still be rotting in there.”

“I assumed it was Astrid? Or Eddie?”

Steve shook his head. “Eddie doesn’t know, and Astrid is in the same financial hole we are.”

Robin put the car in drive but kept the break on. “Well, who was it then?” She posed the question as both of them searched their collective data bank memories for a close friend nearby who had more than two pennies to rub together, or something valuable to use as collateral.

Hours later, they still couldn’t think of anyone.

----------

You left Eddie reluctantly so that he could go look for Steve, and you could take a long awaited shower and throw your nicotine-saturated clothes in the wash. The business card with John Gregson’s email, phone number, and private extension was on your dresser, and you stopped to pick it up as you walked across the room. You meant to bring up the situation to Eddie, but the timing was never right. Was John trying to mess with you in the same way his wife wanted to mess with Eddie? You didn’t get a bad feeling from him, but now, after everything with the photos and Charlene paying people off, you weren’t sure.

A voice inside whispered that John could be an ally if you impressed him, and he had the notion to take you under his wing. John was the one with all the power at the end of the day, and if Charlene could play with fire, well then, so could you.

You decided to give him a call first thing Monday, and hopefully make a consultation appointment with him to get a taste for what type of art piece would suit his tastes and needs. You wondered if it was for his office or home? If it was a piece for his personal space at home, would you bump into Charlene while you were there, commiserating with her husband? The idea of getting under Charlene’s skin and making her sweat a little scratched an itch in you that you had not been able to reach for a while.

---------

Part 11

Eddie after reader is done with him image courtesy of @tenthmoon

-----

It's so damn cool that some of you have made it this far and continue to want to know what goes on with reader and our boys! It warms my heart in a way I'm having trouble expressing in words xoxo

-----

Taglist for my other Hell's Belles and Coffin Kings ❤️‍🔥 @texasblues @sidthedollface2 @hideoutside @lilpotatobean2 @dandelionnfluff @munsons-mayhem28 @eddiemunson95 @tlclick73 @clincallyonline17 @kelsiegrin @stylesxmunson @nope-thanks @lofaewrites @layla-loves-ed @seventhlevelofhell @corrodedcoffincumslut @whatwedontdointheshadows @falling-solar-system @miarosso @kurdtbean @micheledawn1975 @lma1986 @emxcast @secretdryrose @bexreadstoomuch @ms1oftheboys @dream-a-little-nightmare @hellv1ra @manicmagicmayhem @etherealglimmer @unfocused81 @notsobubblybaby @trufflshuffle12 @aysheashea @leilalaufeyson02 @ireidsmut @trixyvixx @tenthmoon

#eddie munson x reader #eddiemunsonseries #eddie munson fic #bikereddiemunson #bikersteve #older eddie munson #older!eddie #eddiemunsonsmut #90s au #90s music #older steve harrington

357 notes · View notes