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sillysowa · 9 months

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SEXTAPE

PAIRING: HOBIE BROWN X FEM!READER

GENRE: SMUT, STARTS OFF PRETTY CUTE BUT GETS KINKY

WORD COUNT: 1.1K

WARNINGS: PERVY HOBIE, VAGINAL FINGERING, BITING, SLIGHT DEGRADATION(?), HOBIE FINGERS YOU WHILE YOU PLAY GUITAR, RECORDING SEX

AUTHORS NOTE: I LOVE THIS SONG AND I FULLY KNOW ITS NOT DIRTY, BUT ITS MY INSPIRATION. (‘TING’ IS JUST SLANG FOR THING!)

SYNOPSIS: HOBIE JUST CANT GET ENOUGH OF HIS GIRL PLAYING HER GUITAR

—

Your amateur fingers danced over your electric guitar, a messier version of Sextape by Deftones ringing out in your empty room. Your amp blinked, your room was freezing, and you found yourself growing more comfortable with the beginning riff. This song was important to you—Hobie having introduced it to you on your first date when he drove you home. It was late, and you were tired, but the song left a mark on you.

The window was open like it always was, awaiting your lover boy. Hobie was at Headquarters for god knows what reason, and he had been gone very long now. You had no way of knowing when he’d be home, busting yourself with your new hobby. It was strange and it was difficult, but when you got it, it sounded beautiful.

Hobie had had an exhausting day, wishing he could be home with you the whole time he was at HQ, but understanding the need for his help. Finally, he was out of there, walking back into London through a portal and sighing in relief. He was standing on the side of your apartment building with his hands in his pockets, walking up the wall and pausing when he heard you cursing,

“Shit, No! I just had it are you kidding?” You grunted, awkwardly adjusting your fingers for the chord you were desperately trying to perfect. Hobie’s ears pricked up, the sound instantly earning his undivided attention as he crouched outside your window, head peeking in just enough to not catch your attention but to give him a good view of you.

To you, you looked a mess. To Hobie, you looked like something straight out of a wet dream—your hair was out of your face, (whether that’s with a bonnet, hair tie, or whatever works for you!) and you were in just your underwear and a tank top. Your guitar was on your lap, and the frustration in your face went straight to his dick. Hobie couldn’t help it, you just looked so ravishing when you were upset.

You were in the middle of the chorus when your boyfriend Hobie makes his arrival through your window, but you don’t jump, you’re used to it by now.

“Hobie, I was beginning to think you’d be gone all ni-“ You start, beginning to take your guitar sling off when Hobies large hands outstretch towards you, palms up,

“Wait-wait-wait! I wanna hear! Don’t wanna miss the show.” He smirks, backing away when you reposition your guitar with a slight eye roll. Hobie just laughs at you as he gets changed,

“It’s really not any good so far, Hobie, and i’ll probably mess up if you’re watching.” You whine, not exactly interested in embarrassing yourself in front of your experienced boyfriend.

“Hey don’t even start with all that, you’re doing great, luv, and I wanna hear the progress.” Hobie quips, a finger pointed towards you as he nears the bed. You’re surprised when Hobie gets real close next to you and then ushers you to scoot forward a bit, then it clicks,

“Hobie-“

“What?” He says, feigning innocence as he invites you to sit with your back to his chest, his legs spread to give you room. You sigh when you realize he won’t let you not do this, positioning yourself,

“You’re such a perv, Hobie.”

“Yeah and you love it.” He smirks, pulling you real close.

You position your fingers on the neck of the guitar, momentarily forgetting what song you were playing. You feel Hobie’s hands on your thighs, and you try to focus. The songs starts. It’s surprisingly steady sounding, and the strings aren’t buzzing like earlier.

“That’s it, good job.” Hobies deep voice rumbles behind you, almost causing you to lose track. You’re playing the song as best as possible, shifting slightly, completely unaware of the effect it was having on Hobie. You feel his fingers creep down to your covered slit, and you pause,

“Hobie?” You question with a slight tilt of your head only for him to grab your chin and face you forward again, hushing you,

“Keep playing.” His voice instantly silences you, and you follow his command, fingers dancing across the strings and continuing the song. You shiver as he starts to rub your clit through your panties, praising you when you do well, giving you tips when you mess up.

A chill trickles down your spine as Hobie moves your underwear to the side, spitting on his fingers before he slowly pushes two into you,

“Ngh~ Hobie! I-I can’t by play like this!” You moans and squirm, only resulting in a toothy grin to take over his features,

“Sure ya can, sweetheart. Just focus f’me.” Hobie reassures you, his voice deep and raspy. He starts to steadily pump his long fingers in and out of your cunt, which is being embarrassingly loud while you play.

“Mmm~ Ha~ Hobie~!” You moan, struggling to keep playing as he speeds up. The feeling of his fingers curling into that soft spot inside you drives you crazy, and you struggle,

“Finish the beautiful song for me love, I know you can.” Hobie whispers in your ear, kissing your neck and making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight. He fingers you so fast you see stars, and you don’t even realize what you’re saying anymore, moaning anything and everything that you feel. Hobie whispers in your ear the whole time,

“Oh you poor ting can’t even play anymore, feels that good yeah?” He chuckles, picking up speed when he feels your walls clenching around him. Your guitar is long forgotten, Hobie fingering you to your release like it’s a sport to him. When your back arches and you cum, Hobie leaves small bites on your neck and sucks hickeys all over, boner throbbing against your back as he whimpers at the sounds of your pleasure.

“Good girl baby, good girl.” He grunted, pulling his fingers out of your pussy while you whine, then tapping them on your lips, “Clean em up dollface.” He groans, cock hard against you as you suck his fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue over them. When he pulls them out, he pulls your guitar over your head and web shoots it onto the wall, mounting it. Hobie grabs your neck, his jewelry clanging in the process as he gets up on his knees. He frees his cock and bends you over, your ass up and head down while you grip the sheets, incredibly flustered and shy from his sudden horniness. Suddenly, Hobie pulls your neck back and his phone is right in front of you. He records your expression when he thrusts into you, both of you moaning loudly before Hobie grunts,

“Smile for the camera, luv.”

#across the spiderverse #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x reader #spider punk #hobie brown #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown x you #hobie spiderverse #hobie brown angst #spiderman #Spotify #silly’s fics

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formosusiniquis · 3 months

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This one goes out to that old guy I saw at walmart yesterday loading up his pioneer woman cookware onto his motorcycle while enter sandman played

steddie | G | WC: 1154

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“Hey baby, can you?”

“No.”

Steve's sweet tone sours immediately returning to the much more familiar gently bitchy tone Eddie knows and loves. “You don't even know what I was gonna ask.”

“Twenty-five years of marriage, lawful and not, Sunshine. I know when you're about to ask me for some shit we don't need.”

“Why would I be calling you if we didn't need it?”

“Because if you needed it you would have told me about it when I said, ‘Stevie, sweetie, light of my life, sun to my dawn,’” he looks around trying to figure out where the hell they moved the oranges and why the produce section is never in the same configuration anytime he comes here. He makes eye contact with a kid wearing an artificially faded printing of his own tour merch looking at him with a starry eyed look of recognition not of the celebrity but of family.

“Did you forget where you were going with that old man?”

He decides he might as well put on a show, both halves of this conversation already know he's going to do what he's told. “‘Stevie, my one truth north, my muse, my reason to continue living, my dearest husband, I'm going to Walmart,’ I told you not but thirty minutes ago and asked if you needed me to get you anything and you said no.”

“Oh, you aren't going to monologue for your adoring public all the sweet names I called you?” Steve is amused, he can tell, he's always been able to tell. He's accepting this as his penance for not giving Eddie an actual grocery list when he left.

“Well dear heart I am in public, but if you think we can find another grocery store to go to after getting banned from this one. I guess there is the Kroger on the other side of town.” The kid laughs, tries to hide it behind their hand, but if Eddie has had anything in this life it's experience with teens eavesdropping on conversations they shouldn't be.

“Oh you're really hamming it up, huh, Teddy. Can I tell you what you're getting me yet or do you still have a couple minutes in your set?”

He's given up on oranges, moves on to the onion he actually came here for, the lone ingredient for dinner that he'd forgotten from his clicklist. If they want to actually have the roast tonight it needs to start soon. “What is it that you remembered we needed, oh song of my heart.”

“I already sent you the link so you get exactly what I want.”

It's just ominous enough of a non-answer that he pulls his phone out of his pocket, juggling it and the five things he'd already grabbed that weren't on his one item list. He doesn't have the time to regret not grabbing the cart he was sure he hadn't needed when he sees what he's been sent.

“I'm on my bike! Where am I going to put that?”

“I'm sorry, am I hearing you correctly? Was I right when I said, ‘Teddy bear, my stars, my bard-’”

“You aren't on speaker.”

“My beloved damsel in distress, maybe the motorcycle isn't the most efficient of midlife crisis vehicles. Aren't you going to want something with more trunk space, why don't you get a Caddy or a Bimmer for old times sake. And what did you say?”

“I don't recall.”

“Probably for the best wouldn't want you banned from Walmart, what would the tabloids say?”

“Nothing that would match your wit, Sweetheart. Does it have to be this one?”

“Yes, the plaid matches the kitchen remodel, so be a good boy and strap it to your bike. And remember we've still got one kid to put through school if she decides to go, don't bring home any strays with you. Do you need to do your encore now, baby?”

“I accept your quest, my dashing prince. I shall return home with my bounty posthaste.” Encore complete, audience still enraptured, Eddie dips into the sincere. It's been nearly thirty years together and he's not once ended a call without saying, “I love you.”

“Love you too, my knight in denim battle vest. I'll see you when you get home.”

The call ends with the usual dull toned beep beep, the playlist the call interrupted starts to filter back into his earbud. He realizes he's going to have to walk right past the kid to get to the side of the store with Steve's Instant Pot.

“Hear they're about to have a reunion tour,” he says gesturing down at the reprint of their Came Back Wrong Tour shirt. The faux-fading has left a crack through his own face at the bottom making him unrecognizable, not that he looks the same now as he did at 25. “Those old bands just don't know how to retire.”

“I think it's smart that they're playing up the recent tik tok fame.” The kid says, “No one's even seen their lead singer since the 90s and after their first national tour he'd started wearing that mask.”

It hurts a little bit the way the kid says 90s like it's some bygone era lost to time. Tries to appreciate instead how good the mask idea had been, he'd really been an innovator. “That was a pretty sweet gimmick, you think he'll bring it back? It's kind of Orville Peck's thing now isn't it.”

The kid slumps, managing the impressive feat of looking desolate while standing over the tomatoes. “Probably, not that I'll see it. I couldn't manage to get a ticket.”

That is something he can fix, “Here,” he manages to grab ahold of his wallet, “as luck would have it, I've got a couple spares.”

The kid looks torn between fear and elation, it's likely at least the second strangest thing to ever happen to them in a Walmart. “Oh I can't-”

“No strings, I got it through work for my sister-in-law to go with my husband. She asked why none of the good bands ever have reunion tours so… not going obviously. And my husband insists he's too old to be that close to the stage. You'd be doing me a favor really.”

“If you're sure,” they say, the hesitance more a mannered necessity than real.

“Sure as shooting. Seriously, here give me your name so my husband knows who to make the thank you note out to.”

“Aspen, thank you really!”

Twenty minutes later when he’s got a kitchen appliance bungied to the back of his bike he’ll appreciate that something good came out of this. Three weeks later when he’s standing at the front of a sold out arena he’ll mostly appreciate another chance to be dramatic, “This next one is for Aspen who didn’t laugh when an old man tried to flirt with his husband in the produce aisle. Gareth, count me in.”

#steddie #steddie fic #old man steddie #rockstar eddie munson

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steddieas-shegoes · 4 months

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Mama Munson made Eddie’s Halloween costumes from scratch every year. She said it was because it looked cooler, but as he got older, he realized it was because she used scraps and cheap fabrics to make them and that’s all they could afford.

But his costumes were always great. Every year was better than the last.

When he got too old for trick or treating, she used Halloween night to teach him how to sew.

“For that jacket you wanna wear so bad, baby.”

It took a lot of effort, and a little bit of help for the thicker patches, but he managed to finish it in a few weeks.

That year for Christmas, he made her and Wayne battle jackets with their favorite bands and singers.

It became the thing he gave to important people.

Shortly after Vecna, when he was stuck in bed for nearly a month healing, he had his mom run to the store in Indy and start grabbing patches. Wayne found denim jackets from the donation store, surprised anything was left at all with how much people needed right now.

Eddie made all the kids jackets, even Max, who would probably think it was stupid in the same way she thought Lucas holding her hand was stupid (not at all).

He made Robin one, with a hidden rainbow flag patch on the inside pocket.

Nancy got one, even Argyle and Jonathan got one.

Steve didn’t.

Eddie didn’t know how to make it a friendly gesture, how to not make it look like he was screaming from the rooftops that he’d fallen hard for the guy who almost single-handedly saved his life. He was certain that giving him the jacket he made would be the end of the daily visits, the joking around, the fun.

“Baby, you think he don’t know?”

Eddie’s mama was trying not to laugh when he unloaded on her while he stitched the last patch to the front.

“He visits you every day, sometimes for hours, sometimes has to be dragged out by nurses, and ya think he don’t know?”

As usual, she had a point.

So Eddie was brave, gave Steve the jacket the next day when he stopped by.

Steve was silent as he took in every patch and pin, even the section of glitter glue Erica had insisted he add. Eddie played with his bare fingers, wishing now more than ever that he had his rings back.

Finally, Steve looked up, watery smile pointed right at Eddie.

“I love it. And you.”

Mama Munson slapped the back of his head gently later while Steve slept in the chair by his bed.

“I told ya so!” Her whisper was enough to make Steve shift around, his grip on Eddie’s hand tightening momentarily. “May have lost a nipple, but got yourself a boyfriend. That’s the Munson way.”

“What the hell do you mean?”

“Oh, Wayne never told you about losing his nipple in ‘Nam? Flirted with the medic and blamed it on blood loss, but wouldn’t ya know? The medic was a little light in his loafers, too!”

Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Wayne didn’t lose a nipple. You’re makin’ shit up again.”

“I ain’t never lied to ya! You ask Wayne tomorrow. There’s a reason he don’t ever go shirtless at the lake.”

And sure enough, the next day, Wayne lifted his shirt and showed Eddie where he had nothing but a scar where his nipple should be.

“So what about the medic?”

“Oh! Grant.” Wayne smiled. “We still write to each other sometimes. He’s married, got a few kids.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. We wouldn’t have worked anyway. He lives in Maine. Can’t imagine dealin’ with moose.”

Mama Munson just raised her brows from her chair and smirked.

When Steve came by after his shift, he was wearing his jacket and the biggest smile Eddie’s ever seen.

“Anything new?”

“Nothin’ really. Just found out I’ve got a lot more in common with Wayne than I thought.”

#still no name for her but oh well #she can just stay mama Munson #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #mama Munson #I’m begging someone to write something with all this #I ain’t got the TIME #or the ENERGY #I have little spurts of thoughts like this and then NOTHING

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freebreadmoon · 3 months

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is there anyway you can write a cute, fluffy little story for Walker Scobell?

YES OMG I HAVENT BEEN ACTIVE BC I HAVE MIDTERMS

warnings: fluff, reader plays annabeth (i love leah dont come for me), no use of y/n, reader and walker aren’t dating but are obvi crushing

requests are open!!

You and Walker were filming a buzzfeed puppy interview, sitting in the middle of the floor.

Walker sat with his legs crisscrossed, smiling wide at the brown spotted dog that nuzzled his leg. “Is it on? Oh, hi, I’m Walker Scobell, and I play Percy Jackson.”

“Hi,” you introduced yourself, “I play Annabeth Chase,” you picked up the fluffy fured black one that was by your foot, “and your watching buzzfeed!” You put a thumbs up at the camera, earning a laugh from the boy beside you.

“Wait I wanted to say it, I’m literally the main character—“

“But I’m the best character. Walker, you can say it at Vanity Fair.” He rolled his eyes at you, smiling slightly.

“Okay, moving on! um…what’s the question? What was your favorite scene to film…um…oh thats a hard one. I’m gonna say…either the fight with the Ares kids in capture the flag, or falling out of the arch. The harness thing was annoying to put on, but the other parts were fun.” Walker was only half paying attention, preoccupied by the dogs.

“I think the tunnel of love scene, or the one where Annabeth pushes Percy in the water, ‘cause I got to push Walker really hard.” You glanced at him, watching the smile curl onto his face.

“Yeah. We did like 15 takes of that because she kept laughing.” Walker laughed, shaking his head. “Actually, she laughed a lot. We had to retake lots of stuff ‘cause of her, especially the tunnel of love scene. The boat flipped and she wouldn’t stop laughing.” He shifted closer to you, messing with the puppy you’re holding.

“Oh! the next question…what’s your opinion on each other? Um…walker is the best blonde dude ever i think. like he’s literally my kid i swear, and he was honestly the best choice for percy. i think he’s the reason i even got to be annabeth, im really greatful for him. Aryan is super sweet and cool, he’s my best best friend, we do the stupidest things together, and I can’t imagine a world we aren’t honorary siblings.” You scratched behind a puppy’s ear, letting it lick you.

“Well I was just gonna say you’re awesome but…I guess I think we make a great team on-screen as well as off-screen. She’s a true friend. If it weren't for her, I don't know what I'd do, y'know? She’s like my very own real life Annabeth." He glanced up at you subtly, wanting to gauge your reaction, smiling in victory when he noticed the red tint to your cheeks.

“The…the next one says, how do you feel about fan support? is it overwhelming? Well, my answer is yes, sometimes. Especially with people who are really like into the book to the point where they hated the casting over looks.” You had started to speak a lot quieter as Walker drifted closer, trying to get the puppy off your lap.

“I don’t think much of it.” Walker shurgs. “Only really the edits that I see anyway, those are fun.” He smiles encouragingly at you , finally meeting your eyes.

“…Yeah. The edits.” You smile at him, referring to the ship edits. You’d talked about it in multiple interviews, and you had a favorites folder for them on Tiktok. You raised an eyebrow at Walker, who continued to move closer until his head was on your lap, giggling softly and starting pet his hair like you did the puppys fur.

“Okay, last question…have there been any memorable moments on set? Um…probably when i first met her. I just got the feeling she was gonna be Annabeth, she gave me this ‘what is he doing?’ Look, and it just clicked.” He stayed with his head on your lap, turning so his head is on your stomach when puppies come and attack him with licks.

“They think you’re one of them!” You push him off a little so the puppies can get to him. “And my answer…um…I think when Walker gave me the piece of banana that was in my hair in the show. He kinda just tied it in and left my set trailer, and it stuck. So if you guys wondered what the weird blue fabric in Annabeth’s hair was, it was not in fact a design choice, it was a Percy choice.” You turn so the camera can see the small braid in your hair with the bandanna piece at the end.

“And Percy’s got one too, if you look hard enough.” He lifts one of his feet, showing the vans he wore during filming, and the flimsy piece of bandanna tied through his top shoe hole. You shake your head, laughing at his insistence in staying with his head in your lap.

While you layed on his bed, you scrolled through your fyp, stopping when you see the familiar scene of you two in the buzzfeed room, with his head in your lap. Nodding your head to the song in the edit as you scrolled through the comments.

“IRL percabeth?” He questioned from beside you. You looked at him, not realizing he had started paying attention to you, jumping to get your phone from him.

“No, I’m commenting! And reposting!” He laughed, rolling away from you. You got off the bed behind him, giving up taking the phone and blinking when he simply commented ‘real’.

“Well, so much for ‘it’ll blow over’.” You rolled your eyes, knowing the dating allegations will only get worse after this. Walker smiled triumphantly, waiting for the responses to come in.

taglist: @persassyxo @diorlorenzo @ilovewalkerscobell @paytonthereader @platypusbearrr @kissatelier @riptidelor

#percy jackson #annabeth chase #x reader #walker scobell #grover underwood #percy jackson x reader #walker scobell x reader

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saekkas · 8 months

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𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑

summary: your beloved son is a tiny, warmer version of your husband, itoshi rin, clingy and talkative without a care in the world. rin thinks you gave birth to a devil, one that won't let him spend time with you alone.

notes: happy birthday to rin itoshi q(≧▽≦q) also shout out to @okkalo because apparently great minds think alike

"black or red?" you mumble, eyes raking down your own reflection in the mirror. "what would he like better?"

at 5 pm on the third friday of every month, you always run into the same problem: date night. itoshi rin, your wonderful and adoring husband of five years, has kept the tradition of taking you out for a romantic dinner and drive throughout the city.

it started on your first anniversary when he surprised you by planning a date at a five-star restaurant that's always fully booked. back then, you were both still fresh out of college with no money to your names and you always wondered how he paid for the cheque.

fast forward years later, with your job as a top marine biologist and his as a renowned soccer player, your college romance seems so far away and yet, it's only bloomed into something far beautiful.

"dad says he likes both!"

you turn around at the words, a grin spreading across your face as you watch your bundle of joy run into the room. his legs are wobbly, and his hair is a dark mess on top of his head but the sight of him barreling straight towards you never fails to warm your heart.

"hello, my prince" you mumble, letting him bury his head into your neck. his hair tickles your skin, and you chuckle when he leaves a kiss on your collarbone. "did you have fun with your dad?"

"yeah! he bought ice cream then we went to the park to play soccer!"

he pulls away from you, bright teal eyes roaming over your face, staring as if he hasn't seen you for years when, in reality, it's only been a few hours. your beloved son is a tiny, warmer version of your husband, clingy and talkative without a care in the world.

"and then we-"

"alright, squirt. time for you to leave."

speak of the devil and he shall appear.

your head snaps towards the bedroom door, your grin melting into a soft smile as your husband steps into the room. rin wears a white fitted undershirt, obviously having changed whilst you were busy with your son.

rin moves, pressing a kiss to your cheek, one your son playfully blanches at, before trying to tug the small carbon copy of himself to where his brother stands at the door.

keyword: trying.

"but i haven't finished talking to mom!" your son whines, tugging his hand out of rin's. he trudges back to you, happily wrapping his arms around your leg, poking his tongue out at your husband. "go away!"

rin grunts, walking over towards you with a growing scowl on his face. "your mom and i have a date. sae's waiting to take you outside."

"well, uncle sae can wait!" the miniature devil in disguise tightens his grip on your leg, shooting a glare at rin before showing you his best puppy eyes. "i wanna be with mom."

"uncle sae can wait, i can't."

sometimes you wonder why the two halves of your heart can never get along.

they bicker, much like how rin used to with sae. whether it's in the morning, afternoon, or night, they'd find a reason to keep on getting on each other's nerves.

you'd be lying if you said it didn't amuse you, especially when you know that their hardheadedness stem from their love of you.

"well you should learn how to be more patient, papa!"

"she's my wife, you little squirt."

you laugh when rin finally reaches you, wrapping his arms around your waist, almost too territorial as he grabs his son's head, moving him away from you like pulling a toy from a claw machine.

"well, she's my mama too!" his small carbon copy huffs, slapping rin's hand away, all the while shooting him a glare. "you're so annoying!"

"okay, okay, that's enough," you sigh out, pressing a kiss to rin's cheek before pushing him away gently, crouching until you're eye level with your son.

you can see rin's disgruntled face in the corner of your eye. "your dad and i have a date tonight, sweetie. will you let us go, hm? i'll cook your favorite meal when you get back from uncle sae's. how about that?"

you watch him hesitate, twitching in his spot, occasionally throwing glances at his dad before he finally says, "i want that and kisses! cuddles too!"

you wonder where he learned to be such a good negotiator.

"okay," you mumble, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead before rin takes his hand, practically dragging your son to the front door where his brother stands, waiting with an amused smile. "be a good boy, okay?"

"wait, one more thing!" your little boy lurches out of rin's grip and you have to silence your laugh with a hand on your mouth, eyes crinkling in amusement at the fiery glare rin shoots him.

your son moves in, placing a kiss on your cheek before whispering cheekily, "you should make dad sleep on the couch tonight."

rin calls his name, muttering what you're sure to be curses under his breath, and you watch as your son moves towards him. only to completely disregard the hand rin has outstretched in favor of sae's.

sae nods his head towards you, one you copy before waving when he takes your son into his car for a weekend away.

"finally alone," your husband mutters, his tone deep and gruff. you can see the tension melt away from his shoulders when you wrap your arms around his shoulders, clinging to his frame. "i can't believe you gave birth to a little devil."

rin has always been touchy. it's a fact he's proven time and time again, ranging from your first date until this very moment of when he glides his hand through your hair, playfully tugging at your strands.

"you look beautiful," he mumbles, moving to nuzzle his face into your neck. he trails kisses down the column of your neck, and you sigh, having already experienced the sensation, albeit, a more innocent version, only minutes ago. "ready to leave?"

"hm? who are you and what have you done to my husband?" you chuckle, giggling when he retaliates to your words by nipping on your skin. you move your hand, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. "i'm kidding. you know i love it when you're all clingy and kissy."

he places one final kiss on your neck before pulling away, his eyes taking you in. "stunning," the words leave his lips as a breathy whisper, and you smile at the hazed look in his eyes.

he looks breathtakingly handsome with his hair gelled back and his undershirt wrapped tightly around his frame. you help him pull on his tuxedo, neatly pressed by your own hands only a few hours earlier, as he recounts his day out with your son.

and finally, you watch, amused when he takes off your ring and his, setting them both on your vanity drawer.

"shall we?" the words are muffled against your ring finger, the limb feeling oddly bare. rin kisses every single one of your knuckles before pressing one final kiss to your palm, his lips warm and soft.

"we shall."

he intertwines your fingers, tugging you out of your home and into his car, ready to take sweep you off your feet, just like he once did all those years ago when he made you his.

#blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock fluff #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin imagines #rin x reader #rin imagines #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin x y/n #itoshi rin x you #bllk x female reader #bllk x y/n #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x female reader #blue lock x you #rin fluff

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cyberjam · 11 months

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ATSV HEADCANON: the spiders as yanderes . . . ☆

warnings - usual yandere themes, use of (bug) pet names like ladybug, no use of y/n or reader, stalking, manipulation, paranoia, a hint of kidnapping, a suggestion of stockholm syndrome, not proof read etc...

word count - 814

i was sleep-deprived while writing this request, so i apologize for any errors or mistakes, enjoy :)

main masterlist <33

MILES - the delusional yandere.

Miles would be so deeply in-love with you that there wasn't much you could possibly do to get him away from you. You could kick and scream at the top of your lungs and he'd just laugh to himself thinking you wanted to play fight. He would go to the ends of the earth for you and he assumes you would do the same for him as well. You could tell him how much you hated his guts and he'd simply take it as you being a bit cranky and in need of a nap. There wasn't a single thing in this world that could make him think you hated him, and once you found out he was Spider-man, that tiny bit of assurance that you were safe was completely washed away and you no-longer felt secure in the city that was supposedly protected.

"you're shaking, bug..don't worry your friendly neighborhood spider-man is here."

GWEN - the overprotective yandere.

You were just a sweet quiet kid. You sat in the back of the class, constantly in your own world. You didn't disturb anyone, always got your work done, and simply just tried to make yourself invisible to the best of your abilities. But It didn't take long for gwen to take notice of you. (you did share multiple classes together..) gwen took pity on you for some time, you were so quiet and innocent...so weak. How could someone like you survive in this world without her? It didn't take long for gwen to take on an aggressively protective role over you. She just knew deep down in her heart that people were gonna walk all over you and she had to be the one to stop them before they reached you. You don't need to be involved with the filth of the world, you need to be with her. So, once she takes you please don't be mad, she only wants what's best for you.

"i finally got you in my arms, ladybug..shh, don't worry i'm not doing this to hurt you, i just wanna protect you."

PAVITR - the clingy yandere.

Pavitr becomes so emotionally attached to you that he truly believes a second without you by his side would shatter him completely. It was rough for him in the beginning, not being able to hold you, smother you in kisses, and talk your ear off about his endless amounts of love for you. But once you two became well acquainted enough to his liking, he won't hold back at all. Pavitr will always be able to slip in his obsession with you in any conversation you two have, always going a bit overboard when he mentions how the reason he's able to live and be the best version of himself is because of your very existence. He gets overwhelmed when you're not close by, it worries him when he doesn't know what you're doing 24/7. What if you're talking to someone else? Laughing at someone else's joke? Surely whoever you're talking to isn't as amazing as Pavitr and If you can't see that he'll just have to show you.

"being away from you causes too much pain, jalebi...we were meant to be one."

HOBIE - the manipulative yandere.

Hobie will make you feel like you can't live without him. That you need him for absolutely everything, wether it be running to the store, picking out an outfit for the day, or even eating food on your own. He will break you emotionally until you're fully dependent on him and feel absolutely useless. He wants you to ask him for everything, he wants to hear the sweet sound of your voice calling his name for help, He needs to hear you say that you need him. Because you do, don't you?

" I don' know why you continue to fight my affection, darling. I'm the only one who's gonna love you the way you need to be loved. Why don't you get that? "

MIGUEL - the possessive yandere.

Miguel wants to be wanted by you. He wants you to be so dependent on him that the only words that ever slip past your lips are silent pleas for his help. He wants you to cling to him and whine at the absence of his presence. He wants you to be fully dependent on him. Any ounce of freedom you used to have before you met him is completely stripped away. Whenever he feels as if you're being independent or going about your day without acknowledging him, he gets extremely upset. You are his and his only so he will not hesitate to remove family and friends from your life if he has to, because in reality you don't really need anyone but him, right?

"tsk. this is why you should always come to me for help, it's what i'm here for, baby."

maybe i'll make a more descriptive one in the future, who knows...until then, send me some requests :)

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated <33

#across the spiderverse #atsv hobie #spiderman atsv imagines #atsv x reader #hobie brown x reader #miles morales x reader #gwen x reader #miguel o hara x reader #across the spiderverse headcanons #across the spider verse x reader #pavitr x reader

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ineffable-romantics · 9 months

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Some thoughts on why and how I believe Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship would incorporate sex/why I do not read them as wholly asexual:

This is something I've seen the most discourse about in this fandom, and I've had a few thoughts of my own that I really wanted to expand upon in a full meta/character analysis post. I do understand that this can be a contentious topic, so first, let me clarify a few things:

First of all, this is going to be long. Tbh it probably won't be that organized either. I ramble and I'm not very good at editing, so just... you know. Be warned. (*Hi, it's me from 2 days after writing this; I'm really not kidding, it's LONG)

These are all my own thoughts. They might not be hot takes, because recently I've seen more than a few people come to the same conclusions on a lot of these points as I have. But I've also had these notes in my drafts for about a week and a half now, and have been continuously adding to it as things have occurred to me. This post is essentially just somewhere for me to collect the separate but related meta I've been kicking around in my head.

I fully respect anyone who does see and prefer an asexual reading of this relationship. These are my own thoughts and interpretations as someone who is not asexual. I am in the LGBT+ community, so while I do know a few things about the asexuality spectrum, I am by no means an expert.

This is NOT something I expect, need, or even necessarily want the show (or, God forbid, Neil's tumblr ask box) to address. Tonally, it's just not that kind of show. Newt and Anathema's sex scene was very much played for laughs, and it worked for that reason. If the show found a way to address it in a way that was both appropriate for the tone of the show and ultimately satisfying, then great! But there is so much more to this relationship than sex, and I didn't need a kiss to confirm their love, so I certainly don't need a sex scene. As immortal beings (as I assume they'll stay) there is so much of the rest of their lives we'll never get to see. You can headcanon them as asexual and potentially be right. I can headcanon them as not and be equally potentially right. Again, these are just a collection of my own thoughts, because I think the question of sexuality (or lack thereof) is just as interesting a facet of these characters as any other.

Note: Tbh I've been second-guessing this whole post and debated deleting the whole thing several times for being silly or unnecessary, bc I don't want anyone to think that this is the only thing I care about when it comes to this story/characters. But if nothing else, it's inspired me to write in a way that nothing has in a very long time, so I've decided it's worth continuing, if for no other reason than that.

This is going to be a mixed bag of textual reading, subtextual reading, and a full-on reach or two. It's been a while since I've been in an English class, but if my teachers expected me to find a deeper meaning behind blue curtains, you can expect me to read too deeply into the symbolism of a loaded rifle or an ox rib. (This is probably not what my professors had in mind when grading my literary analysis papers but oh well) My point is, if it feels like a reach, I'm as aware of it as you are. I am in no way saying that all (or even any) of my points made were deliberate on the part of Neil or the actors or the writers or the directors. I am no longer the delulu Apple Tree Yard child of my youth, I promise.

If anything said here is in any way offensive or hurtful to anyone in the asexual community, please do not hesitate to message me or comment and let me know exactly what it was. I promise you it is not my intention to do so, and am happy to clarify or outright edit anything that reads that way.

With all that being said, let's talk about why I think Crowley and Aziraphale would absolutely fuck nasty incorporate sex into their relationship.

Note: I am out of practice with essay writing, so I think I'll just go down the bullet points of notes I have been making, and expand on each as best I can

Food

Where better to start than with Aziraphale's introduction to Pleasures Of The Flesh? (Just a heads up, this entire post may feel very Aziraphale-heavy, and with good reason).

This might be the least hot take here. We've all seen the Job minisode. We've all seen That Scene.

Whether this was intentional or not, the symbolism here is off the charts. Eve was tempted by an apple. So why not go a similar route and tempt Aziraphale with another fruit, or cheese, or bread, or literally anything else for his first experience with food? Instead, we go with a huge, glistening slab of fresh meat that he proceeds to absolutely go feral upon, moaning and gasping into his meal while Crowley watches with what definitely doesn't look to be disgust or even satisfaction with a good temptation. There's surprise at the ferocity of Aziraphale's appetite, certainly. But ultimately he looks to be intensely fascinated by it, while the thunder crashes, the music crescendos, and the earth literally shakes around them.

(It's also interesting to note how very little it takes for Crowley to tempt him with the ox rib. One murmured suggestion, a bit of unwavering eye contact, and vavoom Aziraphale immediately meets him in the middle.)

Cut to Aziraphale devouring the rest of the meat with Crowley splayed back on a makeshift bed, drinking wine and continuing to watch him indulge through half-lidded eyes. Outside a thunderstorm rages while they're learning secrets about each other in warm flickering firelight. It's cosy, it's intimate, and if they'd thrown in a bearskin throw blanket, it might as well be a post-coital scene straight out of Game of Thrones.

The next time (chronologically) we see them discuss food is when Aziraphale "tempts" Crowley with oysters in Rome. So Crowley first tempts Aziraphale with meat and then Aziraphale tempts Crowley with what is widely regarded to be an aphrodisiac. Interesting.

And then chronologically after that, the Arrangement begins to form, which has always reeked of a friends with benefits situation. Just to throw that in there.

It's What Humans Do

In the very first episode, we're shown Gabriel's obvious disgust and bewilderment towards Aziraphale eating sushi, calling it "gross matter" and being proud of the fact that he does not sully his body with it. Aziraphale initially tries to defend his own enjoyment in it, before passing it off as something that humans do, as something he simply has to do in order to blend in (which we know very well is not the case).

He does this again in season 2, passing off Nina and Maggie being in love as "something humans do". But it isn't, is it? Angels are beings of love, and can sense it, and understand very well what it is... up to a point. Even romantic love is obviously within their wheelhouse, given what we now know happened between Gabriel and Beelzebub (we'll come back to them).

What the "humans do" that angels wouldn't understand is messy, physical forms of love.

But here's the thing: Aziraphale and Crowley love doing what the humans do. They love drinking, they (or at least Aziraphale) love eating. They love music. Crowley loves driving and sleeping and watching rom-coms and sitcoms. Aziraphale loves reading and doing magic and earning little licenses and certificates for achievement in his various hobbies. They love to playact at being human so much that they've stopped playacting and started building a genuinely human lifestyle for themselves and with each other.

Once together in an unambiguously romantic sense, why do we think they wouldn't also want to explore one of the most prominent, intimate, powerful human expressions of love and desire with each other?

Angels, Demons, & Asexuality

Here's where I really want to clarify that in no way do I mean that sex is necessary for a healthy, fulfilling, and loving romantic relationship, or that the lack of desire for sex makes you any less human. Asexuality is a sexuality as valid and human as any. What I would say is that it is definitely in the human minority compared to allosexuality.

Angels and demons, on the other hand, are predominately asexual. Sexless/genderless unless Making An Effort. (Which, btw, is a concept introduced as early as the original book; why even bring it up as a possibility? Why not keep angels/demons being sexless/asexual as a hard and fast rule, if not to open up the potential for later use? Chekhov's Effort, if you will. And isn't that something that Aziraphale in particular is shown to do time and time again? He makes an effort in French and driving and magic, doesn't he?)

And this is why I don't believe Aziraphale and Crowley necessarily need to be asexual, narratively. There is already a huge amount of ace rep within the angels and demons (and no, not just the horrible ones. Muriel also doesn't "drink the tea" and has no reason or desire thus far to Make An Effort, and there are certainly other angels and demons who aren't horrible like the archangels seem to be who likely wouldn't Make An Effort either).

The central conflict for Aziraphale and Crowley is that they are on their own side, the ones who went native, the ones who are so different in so many ways from their respective hives. It would make sense for them to also break away from traditional angel/demon asexuality.

I say "traditional angel/demon asexuality", because I would also like to note that I would absolutely not rule out demisexuality for either of them. This post is being written to as a response to people who specifically believe that they (like the rest of the angels/demons seem to be) would be sex-averse in a relationship, and that it wouldn't be a factor in their relationship. I could easily read them as demisexual, but I do think there would be no real way of verifying this, because they've never been able to form as close an emotional relationship with anyone else but each other. Certainly not in heaven, and I can't imagine they would be able to form that kind of attachment with any of the humans, who they love and emulate but ultimately regard as the separate species they are. So yes, they could either be allosexual or demisexual, in my opinion.

Then again, now that I think about it, Making An Effort itself could be a great metaphor for demisexuality, since they would be entirely sexless/asexual until they have enough of an emotional connection with someone to consciously manifest otherwise. Since the other angels and demons don't generally form those types of emotional connections with anyone, there hasn't been a precedent for it.

Except...

Brielzebub

We do have a precedent for it now, don't we? Gabriel and Beelzebub fell in love. They are a direct foil for Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship, speedrunning right through their courtship and finding their happily ever after on the other side of things.

For being such a 1 to 1 comparison, it feels deliberate that they did not kiss. They held hands, they were gooey with each other, but they did not kiss. That feels like such a deliberate thing to omit when you know what's to come at the end of the episode between Crowley and Aziraphale.

And going back to the food = sex metaphor for a moment, let's notice how even as they fell in love over the years, even when pints and crisps were there on the table in front of them, they never felt the desire to reach out for them. They didn't need to. It's a date (love story) even if you aren't eating dinner (sleeping together).

Yes, I know Jim liked hot chocolate. No, I am not counting it because I don't consider Jim and Gabriel to be the same person with the same proclivities, and Jim was highly suggestible at the time anyway.

Gabriel and Brielzebub's big happily ever after moment (as of now) was one between two asexual supernatural beings. They did not need to kiss to drive the point home. They showed what Crowley and Aziraphale could have, if they would only acknowledge it.

Crowley & Aziraphale's Dissatisfaction

But they do have that already, don't they? If you really think about it, what do Gabriel and Beelzebub do with each other that Crowley and Aziraphale don't already? They hold hands, they spend time together, they create little rituals, they give gifts, they're visibly and verbally affectionate with each other, etc. They are more or less already in a romantic asexual marriage relationship with each other, aren't they?

And it doesn't seem to be enough for either of them.

At the beginning of the season, Crowley is immediately shown to be unsatisfied with the way things are. Obviously part of it comes from living in his car, but it seems to be more than that (especially since Aziraphale makes it clear that the bookshop is just as much Crowley's as his, implying that he could have been living there the whole time and is choosing not to, for some reason?). You could argue he's feeling unmoored without Hell telling him what to do, but isn't that what he wanted? Isn't that what he still wants, by the end of the season? All season long, he's never indicated the desire for a new job, or a new project. He stopped the apocalypse because he wanted the freedom to openly spend time with Aziraphale, to spend his time on Earth however he sees fit. Until Gabriel arrives, he has exactly that (minus a flat).

So where does the dissatisfaction come from? And if it represents anything to do with his relationship, what does he want out of it that he isn't getting already?

I think Crowley only really comes to the realisation of what he's missing when Nina names it for him, not only putting them in the category of romantic, but physical (outright asking if they are sleeping together). These two posts [1], [2] go into more detail about what I mean, but I think it really pushes him into acknowledging that their relationship is more human than either of them have stopped to consider, and what that might mean as far as everything a human relationship can entail.

After all, Nina and Maggie only advised that he should talk to Aziraphale, make clear his feelings. The decision to kiss him, to tip them over the edge from nonphysical to physical, that was all him. And no, kissing isn't sex, but I wonder how taboo even that might be in the kind of all-encompassing asexuality most angels seem to identify with. (If they're disgusted by food and drink, I can only imagine what they think of snogging, much less sex.)

Aziraphale doesn't have this moment of someone observing their relationship from the outside. He loves Crowley, and as of 1941 probably even knows he's in love with him in a way that Crowley doesn't understand yet. Which makes sense, since love is technically his job, he'd be more likely to recognise it for what it is.

However, Aziraphale's reference for romance and relationships is Jane Austen. It's chaste. It's dancing and dinner and doing sweet things for each other and roses and candles and handholding. He contextualises his love for Crowley in that soft fantasy sort of way, where it's there, it's obviously there, but it's neat and easy and unspoken. Not to quote Glee in this, the year of our lord 2023, but it's all very "the touch of the fingertips is as sexy as it gets".

Someone should tell that to Aziraphale's face, then.

I'm not going to pretend I know what Michael Sheen's script notes were, but there were definitely some Choices™ made. Because yes, there were plenty of moments in both seasons with Aziraphale looking at Crowley in a sweet, loving, smitten way. And then there were moments that were yearning.

But yearning for what, exactly? All of those sappy Jane Austen tropes already apply to the two of them. So why are there moments where Aziraphale is looking Crowley up and down like the last eclair in the window and licking his lips and visibly exhaling like he's trying to get in control of himself (see: Bastille scene + Crowley telling Muriel to ask him if they have any other questions about love)? Why is Aziraphale not only unconcerned when Crowley shoves him bodily up against a wall in s1, but staring at his lips and a beat too late in noticing Sister Mary's arrival? Why are some of his lines so suggestive? I'm sorry, but the car ride after the church explosion might as well have been the beginning of a Pizza Man porn with a really weird Blitz theme. If even my mother picked up on that vibe, I can't imagine it wasn't intentional on part of both the dialogue and the delivery.

(This section may feel like more of a reach/joke, but I'm really only 20% joking. These are writers and actors who are EXTREMELY good at their jobs; they know what they were doing here.)

More importantly, I don't think Aziraphale is even aware that there is more to what he wants. He lives in the Jane Austen fantasy and it never even occurs to him that he might be interested in anything further. It never even occurs to him that, as an angel, there is anything further to be interested in in the first place. Until Crowley forces it to occur to him. Just like I believe Nina forced Crowley to confront the idea that romantic love is what he's been feeling all along, I believe Crowley forced Aziraphale to confront the idea that physical intimacy is something he's been wanting, without even realising.

Aziraphale's Hedonism

Expanding on Aziraphale for a moment. We talked about his relationship with food, but we all know that Aziraphale is defined by his love of things that Feel Good.

It isn't just that he and Crowley love human things. Aziraphale loves the best of the best, or at least his version of it. He doesn't just love food, he loves going to fancy restaurants. He doesn't just love clothes, he loves soft, cosy, warm, plush clothes, or shiny, flashy, bougie fashion. He loves the warmth of tea and cocoa, loves getting drunk, and sitting in a comfy chair in the sunlight. He doesn't just experience, he indulges.

Given the emphasis put on things that Aziraphale loves just because they Feel Good, it feels narratively strange to assume that he wouldn't enjoy the feeling of being touched, or that he wouldn't be willing to try it, at least once, with someone he cared very deeply for. And just like the ox rib, I think that once he gets the first taste of things, he would absolutely tip over into complete and utter self-indulgence.

Dancing

I also think that dancing could be construed as a huge metaphor here. After all, we're told flat-out that angels don't Dance. Except one.

I would argue that Aziraphale, in fact, Made An Effort to learn how to Dance. He threw himself into the gavotte with delight (at a Victorian gay club; noted) and worked hard to be good at it. He's chomping at the bit to Dance with Crowley, working up the nerve to ask him with undeniably romantic intent and eagerness. So, angels don't Dance... unless they Make An Effort to do so.

We are told that demons, on the other hand, do Dance, but not well. Makes sense, since they're the ones who would want to encourage a deadly sin like lust, but have as little understanding of human love and physical intimacy as the angels. Crowley, however, is shown to be an excellent dancer at the ball, especially in his compatibility with Aziraphale.

(But Aziraphale WandaVisioned the ball so everyone knew how to dance! Yes, he did. However, the rest of the brainwashing doesn't seem to affect Crowley in any way, and they did actually live through the time period where this sort of dancing was a social norm; I'd be surprised if he never needed to learn. After all, the demons can't spell either, and Crowley is at least functionally literate, as far as we know.)

As of today, it's also been confirmed that when Aziraphale asked Crowley to dance, Crowley replied with "you don't dance." Not "WE don't dance". So going along with the metaphor, Crowley is just now discovering that Dancing is something Aziraphale is interested in at all, much less with him, and not denying that he himself is interested in Dancing. In his defense, I believe he was asleep for a few years while Aziraphale was learning the gavotte, so he wasn't exactly aware of Aziraphale's hot girl summer.

Love Languages

I want to expand on that; Crowley and Aziraphale's compatibility. Specifically in regards to their individual love languages.

We all know Crowley's love language is Acts of Service. I don't think there's any debate there. He loves it, Aziraphale loves it, they're both aware of it, we're all aware of it, God and Satan are aware of it, no surprise there.

You may disagree with me, but I believe Aziraphale's love language is Physical Touch, for a number of reasons. One of which being his aforementioned hedonism. Aziraphale likes things that Feel Good, remember? He likes soft clothes, and well-worn books. Neil himself has said that they like holding hands. And any time he is taken by surprise (Brielzebub getting together, the wave of love in Tadfield, etc.) what is the first thing he does? Reaches out for Crowley. He stops him with a hand to the chest in the pub. He leads him by the hand to the dance floor. He guides him by the waist in the graveyard. He reaches out during the entire Brielzebub scene, whether he can reach Crowley or not. Despite his own turmoil, he grasps at Crowley's back during the kiss.

The one time Crowley reaches out for him (not counting the kiss yet; we'll get there), he is aggressively pushed against a wall (by someone he loves and trusts) with a complete and utter lack of concern (and perhaps some interest, depending on how you read it).

And when he isn't reaching out for anyone, or there isn't anyone to reach out to? Well, he's wringing his own hands together, squeezing his own fingers, as if to find that physical comfort in himself.

So. With that theory in mind, we have Aziraphale (Physical Touch) + Crowley (Acts of Service). Throw in 6000+ years of deep love, cherished companionship, and forcibly repressed longing, and there is a very real potential of this combination resulting in fierce sexual compatibility. Where Aziraphale would want to touch and be touched, to indulge in physical pleasure with someone he adores, in the same the way he indulges in every other fine thing in his life. And where Crowley would want to indulge him in return, to give him everything he wants, and to take pleasure in Aziraphale's pleasure, in the same way he enjoys watching him take joy in food everything else.

So Aziraphale is an angel who is insecure about his own less-than-holy desires, who would want to treat Crowley like a luxury to be touched and cherished and adored. And Crowley is a demon who has, over the millennia, been unhappy about how they've been forced to deny even their friendship with each other, who would want Aziraphale to feel comfortable and safe and encouraged to indulge in earthly delights. That sounds like a stunning recipe for sexual compatibility to me.

"You said 'trust me'" / "And you did"

Just like the Job minisode, the Blitz is RIFE with symbolism (intentional or otherwise). This one will be quick, but I did want to touch on it because I thought it was interesting. Maybe I'm reaching at this point, but I'm assuming you read the tin.

First of all, Crowley not wanting to admit to never firing a gun before; comes off as someone who very much does not want to admit to their crush that they're a virgin ("You must have done this lots of times!" / "Umm.... yyyyyeah.")

(You could make the argument that Aziraphale having a firearms license and a Derringer in a hollowed-out book is symbolic of him not being a virgin while Crowley is. I disagree, for reasons I'll go into later, but it's a valid reading. However, I see it more like keeping a condom in your wallet; it's there in case you need it, but the opportunity has not yet risen no pun intended.)

More importantly, the theme of this entire minisode is trust. We already know they trust each other with their lives against the rest of Heaven, Hell, and the world. But specifically, this is about the importance of having complete trust in your partner in a charged, physically vulnerable, intimate moment, where the only danger is between the two of you.

Aziraphale needs to believe Crowley would never hurt him if he can help it. Crowley needs to trust Aziraphale's unwavering blind faith in him. Frankly, it all feels very symbolic of two people deeply in love losing their respective virginities with each other.

The trick is a success, and they share an intimate candlelit dinner in which they reaffirm their faith in each other. Aziraphale also begins to voice his agreement with Crowley, that maybe Heaven's rules shouldn't have to be as black and white as they are, and that there are benefits to... blurring the lines, shades of grey, wink wink (at which point even my mom was like, whoa guys, this is a family show).

Btw also: Can we all agree how much it looked like Crowley was getting ready to get a lapdance in that one scene? You know the one.

Also also: "Aim for my mouth"? Come on.

The Birds & The Bees

Now that I think of it, there's also something to be said for the fact that Crowley and Aziraphale are both obviously familiar with where babies come from (how they're made and how they're born) while the other angels aren't.

Something something Aziraphale and Crowley fundamentally understand sex and reproduction in a way the other angels (and probably demons) very much do not, nor have any desire to.

Probably not important. Just thought it was worth mentioning.

The Kiss™ & Religious Trauma

The Kiss. Where to even begin?

This has definitely been the hardest one to start, because there is so much going on here that I definitely won't be able to cover it all, and will certainly miss a few things here and there.

Aziraphale's reaction to the kiss afterwards is the most interesting to me. And I don't mean directly after, I don't mean the "I forgive you" part. I mean the way he touches his lips when Crowley is no longer in the room and he no longer needs to save face, when he is completely alone. Had it been directly after the kiss, it would have been rightfully read as horror, or disgust, a shield to discourage further action.

It's not. It isn't just a touch, it's a press. As desperate and angry and unexpected and imperfect as the kiss had been, Aziraphale is pressing it into himself, recreating the feeling as best he can. Beneath all the poor timing and shock and hurt from their fight and fallout, I think it's fair to say that it was something he enjoyed. Something he doesn't think he should enjoy, something that Feels Good that he only allows himself to indulge in when completely alone.

Remember, Aziraphale's idea of love is Jane Austen and gentleness and courtship and fantasy. If he'd ever even considered kissing an option, it might have been gentle pecks, cheek kisses, forehead kiss, hand kisses. Soft, safe, chaste affection.

Crowley's kiss turns all of that on its head. He introduces physical intimacy in a very real, very messy, very human way that I don't think Aziraphale ever even considered could apply to them. Considering what other angels are like and what they look down on, even Aziraphale's Jane Austen fantasies probably would have been considered taboo.

So for their first kiss to be rough and desperate and passionate in the way it was, of course he was confused and in shock. It was deeply physical, and as overwhelming and awful as it was in the moment, it Felt Good. Enough that he grasped at Crowley and kissed back, if only just for a moment, before stopping himself. Enough that he actively pressed it into his lips afterwards, in private, to remember.

I adore how Neil has decided to evolve these characters past the first book/season. More so in this season, Aziraphale and Crowley have both become such interesting allegories for queer people on either side of the spectrum of toxic religion. Aziraphale in particular obviously, because he is the side that so desperately wants to believe, to make a difference, and to unlearn all of the propaganda he's been fed over such a long time. Just like so much of organised religion, there is so much that he is told, time and time again, that he should not want, that he is silly or stupid or outright wrong for wanting. It reminds me so much of the severe Catholic guilt one might feel for wanting/engaging in sex for the first time, and the stigma of being queer layered on top of that.

What is so critical to Aziraphale's character is that he goes on wanting, and more than that, actively pursues. He was convinced to go up against Heaven and Hell and stop all of Armageddon because he wanted to go on listening to music and eating lunch and reading books and enjoying the simple company of the person he cares most deeply for, even if that person is supposed to be the enemy.

All this to say that if angels are as generally asexual/sex-averse as I believe them to be, narratively speaking, it would make sense for Aziraphale to be singular in that regard as well. Mirroring his first experience with food, it would make sense for Crowley to be the one to first introduce this new messy, physical, human dynamic between them, for Aziraphale to hesitate (obviously we are at the Hesitation phase at the moment), and then (eventually) for him to dive in wholeheartedly, to absolutely glut himself on this new thing that Feels Good. It would make sense for his character development to show him overcoming his metaphorical Catholic guilt and pursuing the sexual intimacy most (if not all) of the other angels would scorn.

(I can't help but remember that plot idea Neil described from the unwritten sequel, with Aziraphale in a hotel room trying to watch a full porno by way of the free 2-minute teaser clips so he wasn't technically sinning by paying for it. I so hope this is used in season 3, because gosh, I wonder why Aziraphale would suddenly be so interested in observing human physical intimacy after 6,000 years. Lonely and doing a little surreptitious research there, angel?)

Crowley, on the other hand, is the queer person who has broken free from his toxic religion. He prides himself on being his own person, on their his own side. He doesn't have the hang-ups Aziraphale does. He doesn't worry that he's going to be judged or cast aside for wanting things he's not supposed to. So it only makes sense for him to be the first one to suggest/initiate physical intimacy. It makes sense for him to be the one who "goes too fast" (another fantastic example of this dynamic beginning as early as s1; what is that conversation in the car meant to represent, if not Aziraphale being overwhelmed by the intensity of their relationship, and his fear of succumbing to it when he believes he shouldn't? It's also interesting that this is the first conversation to take place in Soho, just after watching Aziraphale realise he's caught feelings for a demon, with the red glow of lust serving as the backdrop).

Do I think the kiss in and of itself was sexual? No. I think it was a passionate and devastating last-ditch effort on Crowley's part to convey the way he feels for Aziraphale. Not just that he loves him, but that he loves him in the most human way possible. But I do think that the kiss represents how they can move forward from here, and what they might want to explore with each other once they feel free enough to do so.

In Conclusion

I am sure, deep in my bones (unless we are explicitly told otherwise), that this was both of their first kisses no, I'm not counting the gavotte, and that neither of them have ever thought to do anything else physical with the humans while they have been on Earth. Like I said before, they adore the human race and lifestyle in general, but ultimately view them as a separate species altogether, and they seem mostly happy to keep to themselves and each other, unless otherwise necessary. I just can't see either of them being drawn enough to a human to pursue anything close to sex. If Crowley in particular has had anything to do with sex in the context of temptations, I'm positive he would be inciting lust amongst the humans themselves, not involving himself directly. At least not that directly.

So, like every other human experience they've had on Earth, sex is something new that they could explore together, just the two of them, on their own side. A deeply intimate, tangible declaration of their love and everything they've gone through to earn it. A visceral finger to give both Heaven and Hell. A renewed appreciation for their corporations and for each other's. A enjoyable method for immortal beings to simply pass the time in each other's company. A new and exciting way to Feel Good, and all the variations that come with it.

You might agree with this post, or you might not. Whether this is something that is ever addressed or not, it doesn't matter to me. This is a brilliant love story either way, and I genuinely feel so privileged to witness it.

But I just can't find it in myself to imagine, given everything we know about these two characters, that sex isn't an experience they would both consume with wholehearted enthusiasm, curiosity, and profound, ineffable adoration.

___________________________________

Bonus feature: the very silly notes I made to myself that inspired this post

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pucksandpower · 8 months

Note

if requests are open, can I pls request baby vettel telling her brothers (the grid kids) she has a "boyfriend" when she comes home from kindergarten one day ??? if requests are closed, please ignore 💗 love your works so much !!

Grid Kids: Cooties

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: the grid kids take being big brothers very seriously

Series Masterlist

“No.”

Max’s voice is firm, his face aghast.

Charles, sitting next to him, nods in agreement. “I thought we agreed that you’re not allowed to date until you’re 40?”

Your daughter looks up from her crayon artwork, her little brows furrowing. “But Tommy said we’re boy ... boyfr …”

Lance interrupts, “Boyfriend and girlfriend? No, no, no. Absolutely not.”

George chimes in, holding up a toy car, “Tell whoever this Tommy is that you’re too busy racing to have a boyfriend.”

Lando adds, “Besides, boyfriends mean cooties. Do you want cooties?”

She tilts her head, pondering the dire consequences of these so-called cooties.

Charles, trying to be the voice of reason, kneels down to her level. “Sweetie, you’re a smart, wonderful little girl. And Tommy is, well ... you can do better.”

Mick, watching the entire exchange, laughs. “Guys, she’s just a kid. They’re probably just sharing crayons.”

Lando looks scandalized, “Crayons today, hearts tomorrow. It’s a slippery slope!”

Sebastian, watching the overprotective madness unfold, turns to you with a smirk, “I think our daughter has a solid set of bodyguards.”

You laugh, wrapping an arm around him. “Good luck to any actual future boyfriends.”

Your daughter simply shrugs, scribbles something on a piece of paper, and hands it to Charles. “For Tommy.”

Charles reads aloud, “We can be friends. But no cooties. Okay?”

***

The next day after school, Max bends down to your daughter’s eye level, “Now, which one is Tommy?”

She points a tiny finger to a little boy playing with a toy car on the playground. He has sandy hair and an innocent expression as he makes car noises.

Lando claps his hands together, “Alright, mates, game faces.”

George rolls his eyes but can’t help his grin, “Really? We’re really doing this?”

Lance nudges him, “We have to ensure he’s good enough for our sister!”

As the grid kids approach Tommy, he looks up, wide-eyed at the small army of grown-ups marching towards him.

Charles squats down, “Hey there, buddy. You Tommy?”

Tommy nods slowly, clutching his toy car.

George, leaning down too, tries to sound stern, “We heard you’re, uh, dating our sister.”

Lando, animatedly acting out air quotes around the word dating, adds, “We just wanted to have a quick chat.”

Mick, clearly finding the whole situation hilarious, jumps in, “You know, about intentions and all.”

Tommy blinks, “Inten-what?”

Max clears his throat, “Look, Tommy, we just want to make sure you’re treating our sister right. No stealing her toys or snacks.”

Lando jumps in again, “And absolutely no cooties. We had a long talk about that.”

Tommy nods fervently, “I don’t have cooties!”

Charles chuckles, “Good to know. So, you’ll play nice with her?”

Tommy nods again, “I promise. I just wanted to show her my new car.” He holds up the toy proudly.

George pats him on the head awkwardly, “Alright, Tommy. Just remember, we’re watching you.”

***

“Operation Sneaky Sneak is a go. Over,” Lando whispers dramatically into his walkie-talkie from his hiding spot behind a bush.

“Copy that,” George responds, trying to peer into Tommy’s living room window from a tree branch, “They’re ... playing with dolls? Oh, and there are some cookies. Over.”

Lance, hidden behind a garden gnome, chimes in, “I hope they're chocolate chip. Over.”

Charles, from his spot on top of a garden shed, adds, “No visual on any suspicious activities. Just some Barbies about to get the worst haircut of their life. Over.”

Mick, wedged between two trash cans, mutters, “Feels like we’re in a bad spy movie.”

Max, crouching behind a car, counters, “Feels? We ARE in a bad spy movie.”

Suddenly, the back door to Tommy’s house swings open and out step his parents, chatting and laughing. The grid kids freeze.

George, panicking, whispers into the walkie-talkie, “Abort mission! I repeat, abort!”

Lance tries to slink away, “Going dark! Going dark! We have been compromised.”

But it’s too late. Tommy’s mother spots them. “Um, gentlemen? What are you doing?”

Charles attempts to play it cool, “Oh, you know, just ... birdwatching. Beautiful sparrows around here.”

Tommy’s father suppresses a grin, “In our backyard? With walkie-talkies?”

Lando, thinking on his feet, responds, “Modern birdwatching. Very high tech. Over.”

Mick gives him a look, “Did you seriously just say over out loud?”

Max tries to salvage the situation, “We just wanted to ensure the playdate went ... smoothly.”

Tommy’s parents burst into laughter. “You guys really care about her, huh?”

Before anyone can respond, there’s a rustling from above. Thunk! “Ow!” Thwack! “Not the face!” Crash! “My hair!”

Everyone’s attention is immediately drawn to George who has dramatically fallen out of the tree, hitting almost every branch on the way down.

Rubbing his back, George groans from where he’s splayed on the ground, “Guess I should leave the climbing to the kids.”

Tommy’s mother takes pity on the fully grown children masquerading as adults in front of her, “Would any of you like to come in for juice boxes?”

The grid kids exchange sheepish glances. “Yes, please,” they reply in unison.

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ghosthunterbuck · 24 days

Text

beer & apologies

(buddie) (722 words) (7x04 coda)

It’s late, later than any reasonable person would show up on a friend’s doorstep, but Buck’s got this bright, warm feeling in his chest and all he wants to do is apologize so he can share it. For a split second he thinks about knocking, but that feels a little too much like going backwards. Instead, he lets himself in and hangs his key on the hook.

“Eddie,” he calls quietly into the still house.

“Kitchen.” The reply is soft, easy, like Eddie was expecting him.

Buck steps into the room and holds up the beer he brought.

Eddie looks up at him and grins, soft and warm in the glow of the lamplight. “What’s that for?”

“This is ‘sorry for acting like a teenager and spraining your ankle’ beer,” Buck says, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Seriously, I’m sorry.”

Eddie sighs and pushes an empty chair back from the table with his foot, gesturing for Buck to sit. “I’m sorry too,” he says.

“No, no, you don’t—" Buck starts.

“Yeah, I do,” Eddie interrupts with a wry grin. “You should definitely be sorry-er, though, so I’ll take the beer.”

Buck snorts and sits, setting the six pack on the table between them.

“We didn’t—well, I didn’t…”

“I know,” Buck says. “I was just—”

“I know,” Eddie says softly.

A few, quiet moments pass, and it’s comfortable, exactly what Buck was missing the last couple of days.

“Hey,” Eddie says suddenly, sitting up a little straighter, “at least now I know why you always said no to basketball.” He smiles, loose and just a tiny bit mischievous.

Buck splutters. “What? No! I wasn’t that bad,” he protests.

Eddie lifts his injured ankle and raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, well maybe, but—”

“Uh-uh,” Eddie says, “no buts. You haven many talents, Buck, but basketball isn’t one of them.”

Buck ducks his head and grins. “Maybe I’ll get Tommy to teach me, then I can beat you without playing dirty.” Saying Tommy’s name out loud gives birth to a few giddy butterflies in his stomach.

“You two make up?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah,” Buck says. “He uh—texted me.” The butterflies turn to little rocks.

“Good,” Eddie says, “that’s good.” He grabs a beer and twists the top off. “I really think you guys will get along, if you give him a chance.”

“We, um. Yeah. We probably will.” Buck grabs a beer of his own and stares at the label.

He doesn’t—he didn’t mean to lie. It just kind of… came out. Which, it’s Eddie. Buck knows he could tell him exactly what happened, right now, and it’d be fine. It’d be completely fine because it’s Eddie and he knows Eddie would be cool about it, probably even happy for him! But when he goes to open his mouth it just. Doesn’t.

“How’s—uh. How’s Marisol?” he asks instead, tripping over his words.

Eddie shrugs. “She’s fine, same as always. Apparently Christopher got her to play Fortnite, which, according to him, was a disaster.”

Buck laughs, shaking his head. “That kid,” he says softly.

“That kid,” Eddie agrees. He takes another swig of beer and sits back.

“Hey, wait,” Buck says suddenly. He lurches forward and snags the bottle out of Eddie’s hand. “You can’t have this, you’re on pain killers.”

“It’s my apology beer!” Eddie protests.

“Nope, two sips is plenty. I can’t hurt your ankle and your liver on the same day.”

“It’s after midnight, it’s tomorrow,” Eddie pouts. “Give it.” He makes a halfhearted attempt to grab it back, but Buck holds the beer aloft.

“Nuh-uh, absolutely not,” Buck says. “You can drink your apology beer this weekend.”

“My apology beer is going to be flat and stale,” Eddie replies, unimpressed.

Buck rolls his eyes. “I’ll buy you a new apology beer, alright?”

“Promises, promises.”

“I will!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie laughs. “You better. Want to bring it over on Saturday? We can watch the game.”

Buck’s grin falters a little bit, even as that warm feeling bubbles up in his chest all over again. “I uh- can’t, sorry.”

“What, you got a hot date or something?” Eddie asks with a laugh.

Buck takes a long swallow from the beer he stole from Eddie. “Yeah, something,” he says with a hollow laugh.

He feels like a liar.

#i have returned and i come bearing fic #i straight up don't remember my tagging system so #oh well #911 #911 abc #911fic #buddie #buddiefic #911 spoilers #abbie writes #its a coda friends you know what im about #also i'm gonna revive the tag list tomorrow so sorry in advance to anyone who sees this and then gets a crazy late tag!!#or doesn't want them anymore lol

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roosterforme · 3 months

Text

The Younger Kind Part 50 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley surprises you with something at the hospital tour that leaves you smiling. And you fall asleep that night in the one place he didn't know would make him even more sure he wanted to marry you. He has the ring ready to go, excited to propose to you at the air show, but the look on your face leaves him wondering if it's too soon.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Bradley smiled in contentment as you laced your fingers with his. The tour of the children's hospital which was affiliated with the air show was interesting to him, but as someone who worked in pediatric medicine, you were enthralled. "Daddy, look," you said, pulling him off to the side as the tour guide started to lead the group down a flight of stairs. "Noah would love this."

Bradley was getting some looks from another man in the tour group, because you clearly had no shame when you called him that in front of other people. "Princess," he whispered, kissing your ear as you pointed out the window to the colorful courtyard filled with toys and jungle gyms. "Every time you call me Daddy, that guy smirks at me."

"Who?" you asked, turning to glance at the rest of the group headed for the stairwell. "The one in the green shirt?"

"Yeah," Bradley grunted, watching him look at you.

You laughed softly and turned back to Bradley. "He just wishes someone would call him Daddy."

"You're probably not wrong," he replied with a smile. "The group is leaving without us."

"We can catch up," you whispered, wrapping your arms around him in his rough flight suit. You were a soft and warm presence, your cheek coming to rest on his patch that said ROOSTER. "Thanks for bringing me. I didn't want to have to call Jake and hit him up."

Bradley could tell you were trying not to laugh. "What did I tell you about acting like a brat?"

He rubbed soft circles against your back and you sighed. "Why would I stop now when you so clearly enjoy it?"

Bradley groaned. "Let's get going. The tour is almost over, and then I can load you up with champagne and take you home."

You and he had to rush down the stairs to rejoin the group, and of course the man in the green shirt was looking at Bradley like he'd just fucked you in the middle of the hallway or something. But your fingers were laced with his again, so it didn't matter.

You ended up asking the tour guide so many questions along the way that he learned your name and that you were a pediatric nurse, and he answered you in great detail each time. The hospital provided state of the art treatment for children, and when the group walked past an indoor play area where some kids were coloring, you paused and waved to them. They waved back, and you whispered, "Why does everything remind me of Noah?"

"Because you're his mom," Bradley replied without really thinking about it. That was the most natural response. Why did you care so much? Because you were his mom. Why did you prioritize Noah above everything else? Because you were his mom. Part of the reason Bradley let himself indulge in those early fantasies about you was because his son fell in love with you first.

"I miss him a little bit," you whispered, nibbling on your glossy lip. Bradley brought your hand up to his lips and kissed along your purple nails.

"I'm sure he misses you, too. But he's probably getting in bed by now. Let's enjoy the rest of the night?" Bradley asked.

"I'm spending it with you. Of course I'm going to enjoy it."

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

The cocktail reception was beautiful. That colorful courtyard that caught your eye had been lit up with strings of white lights, and the tour group had been led outside into the warm evening air. After two glasses of champagne, you were still pouting over the fact that there were no berries at the bottom, but you were also feeling nice and loose. "Maybe I should go tell the green shirt guy's wife that he'd love it if she called him Daddy," you remarked as Bradley brought over a plate of hors d'oeuvres to share with you.

Bradley gave you a bland look in response as he dipped shrimp into cocktail sauce and set the plate down on the tall table where you stood. "If you go over there and say anything involving the word Daddy, they will probably try to get you to be their third."

Heat rushed to your cheeks immediately. "Bradley!"

He just shrugged in response and offered you the plate. You plucked up your own piece of shrimp wondering how on earth a comment like that from your boyfriend could make you want to take him home to bed immediately. But it did. And your desire for him only grew as you watched him unzip his flight suit and pull out his checkbook.

"Please. You know what that thing does to me," you whispered, fumbling your food before you managed to get it to your mouth.

Bradley laughed as he uncapped a pen. "My checkbook? The thing you always make fun of?"

You shook your head and took another bite of shrimp. "You know I think all of your old man stuff is sexy. But what do you need a check for?"

He examined your face before he leaned on the table, pen hovering over the check. "You said Jake was going to donate five thousand bucks if he got to fly in the air show?"

"That's what he told me."

Bradley hummed and wrote the check out to the children's hospital for six thousand dollars. "Can't have him showing us up. You wanna sign it?"

You were wiping your fingers on a cocktail napkin and admiring your nails as you said, "How am I supposed to sign your check?"

He set the pen down on the checkbook and pushed it across the table toward you before picking up the plate and eating an eggroll in two big bites, eyes firmly on you. He was acting weird now, but you dragged your gaze away from his face down to the table and gasped. The top corner of the check said BRADLEY BRADSHAW in bold font, but now your name was listed right under his along with the address of the cute, blue bungalow in Coronado where you lived.

"Why did you do that?" you asked, staring at your name.

"Because I trust you. And now I can drag you down into my deep, dark, embarrassing, millennial rabbit hole where I still pay for things with checks and don't know how to use my phone. And you can pay for daycare when I'm not home."

You tried to fight it, but a huge smile broke out on your face. "Casey is going to hate this."

"Casey isn't going to know what hit her when she sees you next week, Princess," he said as you signed your name on the bottom of the check and tore it free. You tucked yourself against his side and looked at the two names together while he polished off the rest of the food on the plate.

"Thanks for letting me be your date tonight," you told him, and he laughed.

"Who else would I have asked to come with me?"

"Skittles."

He kissed the top of your head. "Okay. You got me there. Ready to hand in our check and go home before the guy in the green shirt and his wife get any more ideas?"

"Yeah. Let's go home."

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

Bradley gave you a piggyback ride in from the Bronco while also carrying your high heels and your bag. He could tell you were a little tipsy by the way you were giggling softly next to his ear and running your nose through his hair. "Daddy," you whispered as he put his key in the front door. "Are you going to fuck me on the living room floor or in bed?"

"Shh," he coaxed, pushing the door open to reveal Amelia sitting on the couch, reading a comic book. "Can you behave for like five minutes, please?"

You erupted into laughter as you held onto him, and even Amelia was laughing as Bradley asked, "How was Noah?"

"Great," she replied, tossing her comic into her backpack. "He had two slices of pizza. I put the leftovers in the fridge. I just wiped him down instead of giving him a bath, and he was asleep by 8:30."

Bradley shook his head as you kissed his ear. "This one should have also been in bed by 8:30," he mumbled, making you laugh more. He set you down so he could get his wallet out.

"Thanks, Amelia," you told her kindly before turning back to Bradley and smirking. "Please give her cash and not a check, old man. I'm going to give Noah a goodnight kiss."

Bradley shook his head and handed Amelia what was owed for the night while she laughed. "Thank you," he told her, opening the door and watching her walk to her car. He stood there until she started the engine, and he made sure she pulled away with a wave.

Skittles was already curled up in her bed, but you were nowhere to be found when he got to the bedroom. "Princess?" he called out with a chuckle, doubling back to the bathroom. Not three minutes ago you were all smiles, and he was getting ready for you to tease him relentlessly before maybe getting that black dress off of you. But as he unzipped his flight suit a few inches and peeked inside Noah's bedroom door, he found you.

A beam of moonlight shone in through the window, illuminating your face and Noah's as both of you slept curled up together in the twin sized bed. Bradley stood in the doorway for a long time, trying to decide what to do with you as his smile grew. This was all he wanted. Just his family. He strode the rest of the way into the room and brushed Noah's soft curls back from his forehead before kissing him there. Then he leaned over and kissed your cheek. "I love you," he whispered to you both, ultimately deciding to leave you with his son for the night.

Bradley moved your phone charger into Noah's room along with your phone which he took out of your purse. You had given him your passcode before, but he hated using it without your permission. When he entered it, he saw a few new texts from your coworkers and one from Nat. That made him smile as he set an alarm for 8:00 to ensure you and Noah would get to the air show in time to see him fly. His plans were relying on that.

He kissed you both once more each and left your charging phone on Noah's dresser before he went to get himself ready for bed. He groaned, remembering the ungodly early hour he had to get himself out the door in the morning. At least you could follow him to Miramar a little later. Before he climbed into bed, he made sure he had everything ready that he would need for the air show: a clean flight suit, phone, wallet, and the ring box.

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

"Mommy!"

You opened your eyes to find Noah giggling right in front of you. As you looked around, you realized you were in his bedroom. When you sat up, you noticed your phone alarm was going off.

"Why did you sleep in my bed?" he asked as you reached for your phone to silence it. Amongst your notifications, you saw a text from Bradley and quickly opened it.

Bradley Bradshaw: Good morning, Princess. You looked so adorable in bed with Noah, I didn't want to move you. I hope you slept well, and I can't wait to see you both after I fly at 11:00.

You tossed your phone aside and kissed Noah on the top of his head. He was wearing his favorite dinosaur pajamas, and he looked so perfectly sweet. "I guess I needed some extra cuddles last night, and I knew just where to find them."

He let you pull him against you for about twenty seconds before he started to wriggle away. "I'm hungry. I want to see where Skittles is."

You watched him take off down the hallway as you rolled onto your back. You were still in your black dress, and you could barely remember getting home last night and seeing Amelia reading a comic book. You stretched and made your way into the kitchen relieved that you had plenty of time to get you and Noah dressed in your matching outfits and on the road to the air show. You turned on the coffee maker as you watched him petting Skittles by the back door.

"Here, let's see if she needs to go outside," you said as you slid the door open for the dog. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Cereal and probably some fruit."

"Good choice."

Once you had Noah and Skittles both settled with some food, you kissed him on the forehead. "I'm going to take a really fast shower while you eat, okay? Just stay at the table, and I'll be right back." Noah nodded as he ate one of the pieces of banana you'd cut up for him. You dashed into the bathroom, cranking the shower to hot and stripped out of your dress and the lacy underwear Bradley didn't even get to see. But there would be plenty of time for that sort of thing later.

You started to make a mental list of everything you needed to take with you to the air show. You had some snacks already prepared, and you'd need the beach blanket from the hallway closet. Sunblock and maybe a towel or two. Earplugs for you and the noise canceling headphones for Noah. Did you need to take some tampons with you? What was today? It was Saturday. Should you take tampons?

You dropped your razor with a clatter as you spun around and got yourself rinsed off while your heart pounded. You turned off the water and stood in the middle of the bathroom, dripping water onto the mat. When you reached for a towel, you cracked the door open. "Noah? You still okay?"

"Yeah, Mommy."

You wrapped yourself up and tried to remember if you'd had your period even once since Bradley flushed your birth control down the toilet at the lake house. No. No you had not. Not even once. But the thing you had been doing was having almost nonstop unprotected sex with your boyfriend.

"Shit." You brushed your teeth and started moving as fast as you could while your brain was in such a fog. You needed to get dressed and find your car keys. You needed to go to the pharmacy. "Noah," you called out as you ran around. "We need to run to the store as soon as you're done eating!"

Somehow you managed to get yourself dressed and somewhat presentable looking, and then you pulled the yellow shirt over Noah's head that matched the flowers on your dress. You couldn't tell if you were more nervous or more excited at the thought of buying a pregnancy test with your Princess credit card, but in that moment, you really did feel like you were Noah's mom. He reached for your hand, and you led him outside to your car. Bradley put you fully in charge of his son, and you'd do anything for this child. Even the idea of Noah as a big brother had you buckling him in faster.

"We'll just run to the store and then come back home really quickly," you whispered in excitement.

"I want to go to the air show and see Daddy," he whined. "You promised."

You kissed his chubby cheek. "You're right. I promised. And I will always keep my promises. We'll go to the air show right after we stop back home."

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

Bradley was restless. He originally thought this was a great idea, zipping the engagement ring inside one of the many pouches on his flight suit. But he kept checking relentlessly to make sure it was still there. And all he'd really done all morning was wait around after he landed his Super Hornet in Miramar. The other pilots were fine. They seemed nice. But they probably thought Bradley was a complete basketcase. Now he was pacing the tarmac, anxious to get into the air as he checked his phone again.

My Princess: Hey, Daddy. Noah and I arrived! We have a good spot in the grass on the west end of the runway. Can't wait to see you fly!

This was good. It was good that you were already here. He should be in the air in about thirty minutes. He knew what he needed to do. The flight formation was ingrained in his mind. It would be a snap.

But he needed to get this fucking ring on your finger. He should have just proposed the night he brought it home. He'd thought about it then and every day since. For some reason he'd convinced himself that waiting for today was his best move, but now he couldn't even remember why. God, he just wanted to hear you say yes. He wanted to know you would be his and Noah's forever. He wanted to sit up with you later and hold you on his lap while the two of you read over the adoption paperwork.

"Fuck," he muttered, checking the time again. It was so obvious from the very beginning that you belonged with him, and he'd fought it for long enough that he had hurt you. Some of the decisions he made weren't the best, but as soon as he picked you up from that fraternity party, he knew that was never going to happen again.

"Rooster? It's almost time to go."

"Yeah," he agreed, patting the pocket of his flight suit again. "I'm ready."

As he climbed up the ladder into his jet, he glanced toward the west end of the runway. The entire event was packed, and it was impossible to pick the two of you out, but he waved nonetheless, hoping maybe you could see him. This combination of nerves was new to him. Settling into the seat and running his fingers along the controls was always exhilarating, but now he was starting to think you'd say it was too soon to be engaged. He had been trying to make his intentions clear for weeks, getting little to no resistance from you. But there was always a chance.

"It's time!"

He closed his canopy after securing all of his harnesses and strapping his helmet into place. At least you and Noah would be able to see him fly for the first time. Then even if you said it was too soon, you'd know he was ready when you were, and that there was a ring waiting.

The sound of his engines roaring to life brought him comfort and kept him feeling grounded even as he started to taxi. He took off past the packed end of the runway where you were surely sitting, and he knew you'd point him out to Noah. Maybe he was sitting all snuggled up on your lap with his big headphones on. The cozy idea made Bradley want to be down there as he pulled his first roll high above the ground in tandem with the other pilots. The comms crackled to life as he banked out toward the water.

The sky was clear in every direction; the perfect day for flying. He felt calmer now as he cut graceful movements through the air past two of the others, and even though you were just a speck on the ground from this altitude, he knew you could see him. And he knew you were perfect. And he somehow knew you'd say yes.

As soon as he landed to the crowds of people along the runway cheering and waving Navy flags in the air, he taxied his jet back where it belonged and climbed out as soon as the ladder was available. When he saluted the officer in charge he asked, "Am I dismissed?" He didn't want to wait another minute as he once again checked inside that zipper pouch.

"You're dismissed, Lieutenant. Thank you."

He started off at a bit of a brisk walk that turned into a jog. He passed through the guarded chain link fence lined with barbed wire and turned in the direction where you said you were sitting, texting as he dodged spectators in the crowd.

I'm on my way to the two of you.

Without waiting for a response, he moved as quickly as he could past food vendors and flight simulations. All he could picture was the way you'd slept all night curled up with Noah, because when you were with him, everything that was important to Bradley was all in one place, and it made him ache. His flight suit felt restricting now, and he wished he'd taken the time to unzip the top of it. But he had his mission in mind, and nothing was going to stop him.

Eyes searching the crowd for your floral dress pattern and Noah's yellow shirt, he finally saw you pop up from the blanket you were sitting on to wave at him. A smile found Bradley's face as his feet carried him in your direction. You were holding Noah's small hand in yours as people started wandering around the area before the next set of aircrafts took off. Bradley wiped his brow with his sleeve as he got close enough to see your purple nails as you picked Noah up to wave.

"Hi, Daddy!" his son called out, the noise canceling headphones slipping out of place as you laughed and removed them for the time being. The headphones dropped from your fingertips and landed on the blanket just as Bradley wrapped both of you in a hug.

"Hey, Bub," he said as Noah climbed into his grasp.

"We saw you in the air!" you gushed, wrapping your arms around him. "Noah loved it so much."

His lips were on yours instantly as his fingers flexed against your back. With one hand around each of you, Bradley wished he'd taken the ring out on his jog over. Now he was out of breath and sweaty and trying to juggle Noah in one arm while the child talked a mile a minute about the airplanes. Because when Bradley broke the kiss and looked at your face, all he wanted to do was hand you that ring and his heart and his life and beg you to always be with them.

"Princess," he rasped, leaning in to kiss your forehead as he pulled his hand back to find that zipper. He fumbled a bit with it as you bit your lip a little nervously, so he leaned in to kiss your cheek before turning his attention to Noah. "I really need your help, Bub."

"With what?" he asked, arms still wrapped around Bradley's neck.

As his fingers closed around the ring, he whispered, "We have to ask Mommy a question."

The crowd was loud enough that Bradley thought there was a good chance you couldn't hear his words to Noah as he finally shared his plans for the day with his son. But as he sank to one knee in front of you with Noah perched in front of him, you looked more apprehensive. He handed Noah the ring and watched as his son reached his hand up to you. It was too late to stop now as you caught sight of the princess cut diamond that Bradley thought you'd love from the first time he saw it. Your eyes went wide, and you gasped loudly, eyes fixed on Bradley as you froze. His brain was screaming at him that you were going to say no.

Then Noah's sweet voice filled the space between the two of you as he held the ring up a little higher and asked, "Mommy, will you marry Daddy?"

You were looking from Noah to Bradley as you pressed your fingertips to your lips, and your response was neither a confirmation nor a rejection of his proposal, but rather something Bradley had been hoping for but thought was still a long way off. Tears filled your eyes as you said, "I'm pregnant."

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

Double. Whammy. What's your move, Daddy? What are you thinking, Princess? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 51

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loveinhawkins · 1 year

Text

Barely ten minutes into the hike from Skull Rock to Lover’s Lake, Dustin heaves a sigh like he’s the most long suffering person in the world to ever exist. Steve rolls his eyes.

“Jesus Christ, Henderson, what?”

“I’m bored.”

“God, you’re such a whiner. No, you—you’re like a little kid on a road trip, like, are we there yet?”

Behind them, Max and Lucas snort in almost perfect unison.

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve sees Eddie’s lips twitch into the faint semblance of a smile. It’s very quick, blink and you miss it, before he turns sombre again, looking down at the forest floor. Steve can’t blame the guy; he can’t imagine that he has all that much to smile about.

“I just meant,” Dustin says, “that we could use some entertainment.” He jerks his head meaningfully at Eddie—who thankfully still has his head down so he can’t witness this tremendous lack of subtlety—and mouths, You know, a distraction.

“And I’m the entertainment guy,” Steve says flatly.

“Well, we’ve gotta keep you around for some reason,” Lucas pipes up.

Steve turns around, walks backwards so he can point warningly at him. “Thin ice, Sinclair.”

But it’s all for show, and he keeps walking backwards, pretends to trip on a tree root and narrowly avoid a pratfall. Max actually giggles at that, which is a victory in and of itself, but Eddie’s looking down at his feet.

Hmm.

“If I wanted slapstick, I would’ve called Charlie Chaplin,” Dustin says.

“He’s dead,” Max points out.

Dustin quickly draws a hand over his neck, Cut it out. Which—yeah, that’s fair. Don’t want the conversation straying into stuff that’s too close to… everything.

“So you want education instead?” Steve says. “I think I can remember how to identify, like, some trees and shit from—”

“Forget Lover’s Lake,” Dustin says, “I’m walking you straight into a retirement home.”

Steve opens his mouth, ready to play up his outrage, and then he hears a very soft chuckle from the side. Eddie.

Steve catches Dustin’s eye, winks briefly in reassurance. Nice work.

“Oh, sorry, is that not entertaining enough for you?” Steve turns so he’s front facing again, kicking a few stray twigs as he thinks. “Uh… ooh, did I tell you about the affair? At work?”

“Someone’s having an affair at Family Video?” Lucas says, sounding disgusted.

Max cackles. “The scandal! At a family establishment, no less.”

Dustin points at her. “See, this is why you should play D&D!” he says, annoyingly sing-song. “You’ve got a flair for words.”

“How about I stick my flair right up your—”

“Uh, okay,” Eddie interrupts suddenly. “I need details.”

Aha, Steve thinks, smug. Got you.

“Fire away, Munson.”

“Did someone, like, confess to you while you were ringing them up?”

Steve scoffs. “No, it was—” He cups his mouth, calls, “Hey, Rob?”

Up ahead, Robin and Nancy turn.

“What?”

“The affair shift.”

“Oh!” Robin whacks Nancy on the arm in her enthusiasm. “This is such a good one. Okay, so am I gonna be her or—?”

“No!” Steve says. “You’ve gotta be me, you can’t do her voice right.”

“Ugh, fine, fine. Wait, I need to get into character.”

Robin makes a show of ruffling her hair, and Steve doesn’t even roll his eyes, can only grin as he hears Eddie cough a much stronger laugh into his elbow.

“Nance, count us in,” Robin says.

Nancy looks a mixture of surprised and amused. It only takes a moment of hesitance before she mimes holding a slate, mouths counting down. “Action!”

And they’re off.

It’s probably so stupid, Steve thinks, to be this loud right now, but he can’t bring himself to care—not when he can hear raucous laughter from all directions: Robin captures his flustered, wide-eyed look, while he dramatically re-enacts a woman storming into the store, demanding to see her husband’s account.

And he thinks Eddie actually laughs the loudest when he gets to the reveal: that said account was full of romantic movies the married couple had never seen together.

“Not one,” Steve echoes—and not to brag, but with this delivery? Juilliard, eat your heart out. “Not. One!”

The kids dissolve into more giggles; Robin fights to stay in character as Nancy jokingly calls, “And, scene!”

And Eddie throws back his head, and laughs and laughs.

Happiness is a good look on him, Steve thinks.

They all quieten eventually, but a lightness in mood still remains, as the kids huddle off together—“Hey, shitheads, not too far!” Steve says, far from the first time—and Eddie sidles up, fleetingly knocks their shoulders together.

“Steve Harrington. Who would’ve thought it, huh?”

“Thought what?”

Steve glances over at him, suddenly struck by the fact that the sun will go down soon; and he doesn’t really need to know what Mordor is to know that he’d rather not get there. That he’d rather freeze time, so they could all just walk in the woods forever.

Eddie shrugs. “You’re a good storyteller.” His eyes are soft, like that isn’t all that he’s saying. Like he’s saying Thank you.

Steve shrugs back. “I’m a man of many talents,” he says.

Eddie chuckles, and this time his smile doesn’t fade away.

Steve allows himself a moment or two to admire the scenery, and if that means looking less at the way the sun still shines through the gaps in the branches, and more the way that it illuminates Eddie’s lingering smile, well…

Well, so what?

Right now, we’re happy, Steve finds himself thinking.

They can stay in the Shire for a little while longer.

#oh missing scenes how i love you ❤️#steddie #steddie ficlet #pre steddie #steve and the party #steve and dustin #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #let steve be silly and have fun agenda <3 #steve and robin

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lovebugism · 28 days

Note

Could you pleaseeee do more single dad!Eddie 🥺

✶ ┄ MAYDAY ! [ stand by me ]

summary: after totally embarrassing yourself at eddie's kid's birthday party, the metalhead single dad from the trailer park shows you his (perhaps equally embarrassing) favorite movie. (2.9k)

pairing: dad!eddie munson / f!reader

tags: eddie and maeve universe, strangers to lovers (eventually), slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love, girl dad eddie munson™, fluff, ugly crying at movies

You never did crack open that bottle.

The one you accidentally brought to Eddie’s kid’s birthday party? Yeah, that one. The glass container sits unopened on the coffee table in front of you, casting amber reflections on the old wood beneath the lamplight. It’s just a silly conversation starter now. You’ve got no real reason to drink it, anyway.

There’s nothing more intoxicating than Eddie Munson’s presence.

Sunrays spill from your mouth when you tip your head back to laugh. You turn to look at the boy on the other end of the couch, and your warm cheek squishes against the cushion. “Stand By Me is not your favorite movie!” you argue, giggling softly with disbelief.

Eddie has no idea how big he’s smiling. He’s too busy staring at you to notice the beam on his face.

He shrugs his shoulders, now free from the confines of his leather jacket. He wears a faded Peanuts shirt now. A hand-me-down, you figure. “I mean… Land Before Time is a really close second,” he answers in a teasing lilt.

“Oh, yeah. Only the saddest movie ever made.”

“Maeve used to love it. And, like, not in a normal way— She used to make me play it for her until the tape spun out,” Eddie tells you, chuckling softly to himself. “It grew on me eventually, but… Then she grew out of it.”

You watch him get all forlorn at the thought. You meet his subtle pout with a scrunched nose. “Well, she’s only four, right? Surely, she hasn’t had time to grow out of much.”

Eddie scoffs and slouches further on the couch until his thighs spread. “You’d be surprised. Every time I think I— you know— start to understand her a little bit or whatever, she just… She changes, you know? Like, overnight.”

He doesn’t mean to get so suddenly sentimental about the whole thing. Especially not in front of a pretty girl he only met eight hours ago. He’ll blame it on the late night and the existential dread that always comes with birthdays. He conceals his brooding behind a dumb joke.

“I mean, just this morning, Maeve’s favorite animal was a Hefflelump… Now it’s a blobfish.”

You try to hold back your laughter. You fail. The sunshine-coated giggle sputters from your mouth despite your attempts to keep it hidden. Eddie only laughs because you are.

“I should’ve said turtle or something,” you humor with a roll of your eyes, tucking your knees to your chest. “Or, like, a badger. Maybe then I wouldn’t have gotten made fun of all day.”

“Those aren’t any less normal,” Eddie chuckles with a lopsided grin, dark chocolate eyes twinkling ‘cause he never really liked normal anyway.

You shrug. “Agree to disagree.”

“You wanna know something?” he blurts after a long beat of silent smiles. “When I tucked her in, she made me promise to take her to the aquarium tomorrow. Said she wanted to see ‘if the blobfish were just as gross in real life.’

You smile so wide your eyes squint at the edges. “Do they have blobfish at the aquarium?” you laugh.

Eddie shrugs. “Probably not. But she’ll get to pet a stingray or somethin’. Then she’ll forget all about it.”

“Sounds fun…” you murmur, picking at pills of cotton on the old couch with a suddenly anxious hand.

“Yeah. Parenting always is,” Eddie hums with a distant smile. “Even when it isn’t.”

“Should I— Should I, like, go?” you stammer.

The boy seems shocked by your question. His fluffy brows pinch as he hums. “Huh?”

You squirm, less than comfortable in your own skin. “Well, I mean, it’s… It’s getting kinda late and everything, and… If you guys are going into the city in the morning, I don’t wanna, like, keep you or whatever—”

Suddenly anxious, Eddie sits up a little straighter. “No! No, it’s okay. I don’t mind,” he responds, then quickly follows with wide eyes. “Unless— Unless you want to leave—”

“I don’t!” you answer, equally flustered.

Eddie forces an awkward chuckle. “I don’t want you to think I’m, like, keeping you hostage here or something—”

“I just don’t wanna overstay my welcome—”

“You couldn’t,” he insists.

You nod, and in a mousy voice, you reply, “Well, you couldn’t keep me hostage, so…”

Eddie grins. “Good.”

“Good,” you echo.

“So… Wanna watch a movie or something?” he offers with a fluttering heart and fidgeting hands.

He feels like a teenage boy all over again — only he never actually got the opportunity to ask a pretty girl out when he was a teenager. People weren’t exactly fighting to spend time with the local freak back then. Or now, really.

Except you.

“Whaddaya got?”

“Well, let’s see…” he says, grunting as he rises from the couch.

Eddie walks the short distance to the box television across the room — which Maeve has carefully decorated with a collection of sparkly stickers. He sorts through the VHS tapes stacked in less-than-organized piles with a ringed hand, realizing must’ve left all the good stuff at Wayne’s.

“Oh, you know… All the Maeve Munson favorites…” he singsongs with a sigh.

“Surprise me,” you call from the couch.

Eddie rises then, with two bulky VHSs clutched within ringed fingers. He holds them on either side of his face and grins between them. “Stand By Me or Land Before Time?”

“Stand By Me,” you answer with a firm nod. “Unless, you know, you wanna see me ugly cry.”

“That’s second date territory,” he quips with a wink, suddenly and very uncharacteristically cool. “Stand By Me it is.”

—————

You’re crying on a stranger’s couch about ninety minutes later.

The credits roll in static colors on the tiny television across from you. The low bass of a nostalgic song floats quietly through the living room — If the sky, that we look upon, should tumble and fall… Or the mountains, should crumble to the sea…

Eddie looks on with a sympathetic beam as you hide your teary face behind your palms. He can’t tell if you’re shaking from sobs or from laughter. Maybe a healthy mixture of both. “I thought you weren’t gonna cry!” he chuckles.

You peek at him through your fingers. Your eyes are glassy with tears and squinting at the edges with a smile. “I forgot how sad it was!” you sniffle, then laugh at yourself.

I won’t cry, I won’t cry… No, I won’t shed a tear…

“You’re crying, too!” you observe as the boy beside you wipes at his eyes with his fingertips. You reach over to shove him with a playful hand. “You big softy!”

Eddie scoffs and swipes his nose with the back of his wrist. “I’m not crying! I’m just… I had something in my eye.”

“Tears?” you tease with a scrunched nose.

He nods, and with a sheepish look in his eyes, he says, “Yeah…”

Your quiet laughter entwines, filling the dim living room with something sparkly and golden. The sound of violins swells in a similar way. Eddie’s eyes flutter shut as he begins singing the lyrics to himself, not really trying but sounding pretty anyway.

“Just as long, as you stand, stand by me…” he croons quietly. You beam and sing softly along with him, audibly less serious about the whole thing. “And darlin’! Darlin’! Stand by me… Oh, stand by me—”

Both of you quieten when a door squeaks about open down the hall. The distant screech is followed by the patter of tiny footsteps. Eddie huffs and sits up a little straighter. “Ah, shit…”

Your face floods with horror. “Was I too loud?” you whisper.

“No. It’s just midnight,” he answers, shaking his wild head. “She always wakes up at midnight. Like my personal little Gremlin.”

Maeve appears in the dark hallway then, drowning in one of her dad’s old t-shirts. Corroded Coffin, the front of it reads, in what seems to be hand-made lettering. The thing fits her like a gown.

Her curls sit in an untamed halo around her head from the intensity of her slumber. She rubs at her swollen eyes with chubby fists. Eddie can’t help but grin at the sight of her.

“Hey, Mayday,” he coos. “What happened? You can’t sleep?”

The girl shuffles to her father like it’s muscle memory to her. Still half-asleep, she grips his shirt with graceless fingers and climbs onto his lap with her eyes still shut. She cuddles into his torso, fitting perfectly there, while you sit frozen on the other side of the couch. Like maybe if you’re real still, she won’t notice you’re there.

“We gonna go see da blobfish now?” she wonders in tiny slurs against his chest.

Eddie’s cheek squishes against her head when he smiles. The expression gets lost in her wild chestnut locks. “Not yet, May. It’s too late— All the fishies are sleeping now. Like you should be.”

She shifts on his lap like she’s trying to get more comfortable there. Her cheek, indented with lines of sleep, rubs against his shirt when she turns to look up at him. “Need you to tuck me in,” she tells him, tiny chin bobbing against his chest.

Eddie juts back to see her better. “Again?” he humors with his brows raised behind his curly bangs.

“Mhmm,” she nods, slow and sleepy.

“Okay,” he hums, scoffing a tired chuckle. “I’ll tuck you in again, bug.”

You don’t mean to laugh. It just crawls up your throat and out of your mouth before you can stop it. You try to hide it behind your palm, but Maeve still notices.

Her fluffy brows scrunch together when she turns to you. She swipes at the hair sticking to her cheek with a fumbling hand to see you better. She doesn’t say anything, though. She just kinda blinks at you, with a brown-eyed, emotionless gaze.

You muster a wavering smile at the girl, lifting your hand in an unsure wave.

“Wanna go see the blobfish with us tomorrow?” Maeve blurts. Though, in her less than awake state, it sounds more like wanna go see da bobfish wiv us tommowow? It’s like you can feel your heart melting.

“The aquarium,” Eddie clarifies.

You squirm in your seat. “Oh, I… I can’t,” you sigh, then follow quickly when she pouts. “I wish I could! It sounds super fun, but I’m… I’m busy…”

You aren’t, really. ‘Cause tomorrow’s Saturday — the only thing you really have to do is try to wake up before noon. You just don’t know how else to turn her down.

“Maybe next time?” Eddie offers hopefully, mostly for Maeve’s sake.

You nod rapidly, just for Maeve. “Yeah. Next time. Definitely.”

“See? It’s okay,” Eddie lilts, squeezing gently at the girl’s sides until she’s smiling again. “We can have fun just you and me, right?”

Maeve pouts in response, a sort of snarled face that’s obviously playful.

Eddie laughs loud and boyishly in return. “Hey! Don’t make that face at me!” he exclaims, feigning offense. Maeve loses her poker face almost instantly as she giggles. “Go get in bed, you weirdo. I’ll tuck you in in a second.”

“And read me another book?” she presses hopefully.

He nods, knowing it’s a fight he’s bound to lose. “And read you another book.”

“Two of them?”

The girl holds her pointer and middle finger in front of her face. Eddie chuckles and guides the latter back down with a gentle hand. “One,” he corrects.

“Two.”

“One.”

“Two!”

A brief stare-off ensues, one in which you’ve got a front-row seat. Maeve’s dark chocolate gaze resembles her father’s — button-eyed and swimming with something honeyed and stubborn. She tilts her chin to her chest and glares unwavering at the man in front of her.

Eddie inevitably caves. He sighs so deeply his chest deflates. “Fine… Two. But only if you run real fast.”

Maeves slides down his denim-clad legs until her bare feet hit the carpet. She scurries down the hall without another word, quiet giggles fading with her footsteps. Eddie slumps against the couch with a small, contented sigh.

You realize you haven’t stopped smiling for several minutes now. “She’s really sweet,” you compliment to fill the silence.

Eddie scoffs a gentle laugh. “Yeah. When she wants to be.”

The quiet returns. You run out of things to say. The notion of the late-late night settles more heavily upon you. You swallow hard and fight for a way out that doesn’t make it sound like Eddie hasn’t just given you one of the best nights of your life.

“I think I’m gonna—”

“Well, I should—”

The boy starts speaking at the same time as you. You cut each other off without trying, then laugh quietly at yourselves.

“You first,” you tell him.

“I should go tuck Maeve in before she goes all Mayday mode and starts screaming at me,” Eddie says, only partly joking.

His sweet little Maeve is only Mayday when she’s throwing a too-passionate tantrum. Or when it’s past midnight, and she’s acting like a total gremlin. He doesn’t particularly want you to witness either. ‘Cause kids tend to be pretty gnarly sometimes — especially when you aren’t the one raising them.

“Yeah, I should probably start heading home, anyway,” you reply. “It’s late.”

Eddie rises with a small huff. You follow behind him towards the front door, both of you moving with slow and heavy strides — neither particularly wanting the other to go.

“Thanks for keeping me company,” he says beneath the sound of the screeching screen door. “And for helping Maeve have a good day and everything… Most people don’t really consider hanging out with a four-year-old and her dad a good time, so…”

“Well, most people are weirdos,” you scoff and slide past him through the doorway. “You and Maeve are, like, the coolest people in Hawkins.”

You stand ahead of him on the front steps of the trailer, glowing beneath the silver moon and the buzzing amber porchlight. Eddie lingers in the entryway and holds the door open with his shoulder, so he can hear Maeve when she inevitably starts shouting for him.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” he wavers with a scrunched nose. “Maeve’s pretty cool and all, but… She definitely didn’t get that from me.”

“Your favorite movies are Land Before Time and Stand By Me,” you deadpan with a flat face. A smile inevitably pulls at your lips when you look at him too long, pretty as he is. “You’re cool, Eddie. Whether you wanna be or not.”

“Agree to disagree,” he grins, totally sheepish as he shrugs off the compliment. “Thanks for hangin’ around. Again.”

He feels like he’s said that too many times now, but he’s too full of gratitude to stop. It’s been just him and Maeve for so long. And, yeah, sure, Steve and Robin come around when they can, but they’ve got their own lives outside of this one. It isn’t every day someone appears at his trailer with a bottle of booze and the wherewithal to acclimate to his chaotic life.

Eddie feels like he should never stop thanking you, really.

You shrug. “Thanks for keeping me around. Again.”

“See you soon?” he wonders with a hopeful glint in his dark eyes, made a much lighter amber in the moonlight.

You nod firmly once. “‘Course.”

And even though that’s as good a dismissal as any, you both linger in the doorway still. Like your feet are glued in place.

How are you supposed to walk away from him? The man with wild rockstar curls, rings on each finger, and a beaded bracelet with his daughter’s initial in the very center. The man who loves cartoons more than his toddler and cries with you at sad movies?

You figure you’ll spend forever chasing this foreign feeling he’s so effortlessly given you.

“Daddy!” Maeve shouts. Her high-pitched voice rings through the tiny trailer. It makes you wince a little. You didn’t think something so tiny could be so loud.

“And there’s Mayday…” Eddie lilts quietly, unflinching ‘cause he’s used to this by now.

“I’ll go,” you laugh, walking backward towards your car. “I’ll— I’ll see you around.”

“G’night,” he calls to you as he watches you go.

His chest stings when he realizes he never asked for your number. It feels much too awkward to do it now, and he’s only got a few minutes more before Maeve goes crazy on him. He should’ve asked you ages ago, really. But he didn’t. ‘Cause he’s an idiot.

You notice it, too, but you flash him a sheepish smile over your shoulder anyway. Even if you never hear from him again after you’re gone, you figure there’s always next year.

Maeve will be another year older. Steve will bring you along to her party if you beg. Eddie will be in desperate need of a pick-me-up, and you’ll bring a bottle of booze just to make him smile. The alcohol will go untouched, though, as the two of you get lost in conversation and Stand By Me.

Even if all this was only destined to happen once every year — even if it was only supposed to happen once and never again — you’ll spend the rest of your life grateful that it happened at all.

With a cold hand trembling with longing, you wrench your car door open. Though your heart’s heavy with a distant worry that you may never be back here again, you grin at him through the grief and the small distance between you.

“Good night, Eddie.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #eddie and maeve

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badgerbl00d · 7 months

Text

taking an aphrodisiac and seeing who gives in first

☆ characters: ace, law, kidd

☆ up next: running into your ex ft. zoro

☆ summary: you take an aphrodisiac together and decide to throw in a competitive edge ; smutty, minimal plot oops

☆ a/n: this is a reupload- the original was deleted for some reason :(; requests are opened and being worked on! enjoy <3

☆ 18+, mdni

ace

You waited until everyone was asleep to make your way over to Ace’s room. The two of you had decided it would probably be best to not say anything to anyone for a while, at least until you both had more time to get used to being together.

It still sent shivers down your spine to think about the fact that you were actually dating.

You knocked on his door, using the knocking pattern he’d taught you exactly the way he’d insisted you did.

“Ace, that’s dumb,” you’d insisted.

“No- I-I’m serious! What if I answer the door naked and Marco’s the one who knocked?”

“Why the hell would you be answering the door naked at all?”

“Well, you know ‘cause it’s, like, sexy.”

You stared at him and decided it would be best to just do a stupid secret knock.

“...Okay what’s the knock.”

“Haha! Yes! Ok, so knock once, and then twice really fast- like da-dum, OK?”

“Alright,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Good. Then you’re gonna drumroll on the door for like three whole seconds. After that alternate between left and right twice and then-”

“Ace I’m just gonna knock three times, ok?”

He rolled his eyes, “Fine.”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You waited for a few seconds before Ace opened the door for you.

He pulled you in for a kiss, a boyish smile plastered on his face.

“My knock would’ve been better.”

You giggled and followed him to his bed, pulling out the chocolate.

The two of you had been sent shopping earlier and came across a stall selling ‘enhanced’ chocolate. After some inquiry, you discovered it was an aphrodisiac, supposed to increase libido.

You and Ace bought it, giggling like schoolgirls, and decided you’d try it tonight.

“So we just eat it and… bang?”

“Yes, Ace, we eat it and bang.”

“I meant like bang, boom, y’know?”

Well, I meant it like sex. “Here,” you broke the candy in half and handed it to him.

“Hold on, hold on,” he sat down next to you and pulled you onto his lap, placing a flurry of kisses on your cheek before continuing, “Wanna make it more interesting?”

“Depends what you have in mind.”

“Let’s make a bet- See who lasts longer without giving in.”

You perked up at this.

“What will I get when I win?”

He laughed, “ ‘When?’ I think you mean if. Don’t get overconfident, cutie. How about… I will take you shopping for anything you want.”

“Deal.”

Ace grabbed half of the chocolate and popped it into his mouth, and you followed suit.

He put on a kids' show you both liked in the background, it was a cute one about a boy and his stretchy dog. He said it reminded him of him and his brothers. The two of you got comfortable on the bed, you sat leaned up against a mountain of pillows, and Ace laid on you, head resting on your thighs.

You played with his hair while he rubbed your legs, as you slowly started to feel the effects of the drug.

You could tell Ace had started to feel it as soon as he started squirming.

When he turned over, his stomach against yours, and started to kiss your chest and tummy, you knew you’d won.

“About that bet…” he said.

“Already?! You didn’t even try! Go sit over there.”

“I’m sorry you’re just so beautiful and soft and I’m so hard it’s starting to hurt.”

You giggled and pulled down the straps of your shirt to tease him.

“You want this?”

He nodded eagerly. So cute.

He reached behind you and unhooked your bra, tossing it on the floor.

He watched as your boobs bounced out, and with his hands around your waist, took one into his mouth.

“A-ah, Ace,” you panted as his warm mouth enveloped your nipple.

The hot, sticky wetness of his tongue felt so, so good. Your resolve immediately crumbled and you caved to his touch.

He sucked slightly harder, his teeth gently closing around it.

“Ace,” you whined, your hands finding their way up his back and into his hair.

His hands were wrapped around his waist and he was laying on top of you, lined up so that his hardening dick was against your thigh.

You felt a sudden burst of warmth emanate from his hands, sending a violently pleasurable shiver up your spine. He knew you loved when he involved his devil fruit abilities into your sexual encounters.

You not-so-gently pulled on his hair as your back arched into his tongue that was persistently lapping at your sensitive nipple.

He pulled away with a pop.

“M-more, Ace,” you breathed, “I want more.”

He sat up on his knees and clumsily fumbled with his pants, failing to untie the knot at the front.

“Let me help,” you said, reaching up to untie it for him.

You made eye contact with him as you pulled down his sweats, slipping a finger into the band of his boxers.

He took in a shaky breath, his lips parted in awe.

“You’re so pretty, you know that?”

You didn’t respond and instead pulled down his boxers.

He was very long and pleasantly thick.

You felt yourself getting even wetter at the memory of how he stretched you out last time.

Ace didn’t shave either, you figured he was far too impatient but it was something you absolutely loved.

You wrapped your lips around him, slowly working your way to the base, spit coating his dick.

He placed a gentle hand in your hair, guiding you along with him as he laid back down on the bed.

He gathered your hair into a messy ponytail and slowly bobbed your head up and down and up and down against his length- hissing as your tongue slid up his length and swirled around the tip with every movement.

“F-feels so good,” he said.

You moaned against him, earning an involuntary shudder from your boyfriend.

You wrapped a hand around him, lightly squeezing his spit-soaked cock.

“N-no, no, no, too much,” he whined, “Gonna cum!”

You started to move your head faster and were abruptly pulled off of him.

“Let me fuck you first, princess, ‘m gonna cum if you keep going.”

You sighed but relented.

“That’s the goal, baby,” you said, straddling his hips, and placing your hands on his chest.

“Then let me cum in you,” he begged.

You lowered yourself down onto his length as he held himself in place for you, moaning as you felt that familiar stretch.

“F-fuck,” you breathed, “You feel so good- So big.”

“Yeah? You like this position?”

He started to move his hips, fucking up into you.

“Y-yes, Ace- Fuck! Oh, my god, d-don’t stop!”

Your breathless moans were more than enough to get him up to a delicious pace.

You pressed hot, wet kisses to his mouth, welcoming the abnormally warm sensation in your tummy.

You knew your boyfriend ran hot and it was the most unexpectedly wonderful thing about having sex with him.

You were sweating, covered with water droplets that were running down your body.

Ace’s hands dug into you, wet smacking sounds filling the room as you both got closer and closer.

You cried out with every thrust, and Ace’s head was completely fogged with euphoria.

Your stomach was twisting and tensing with pleasure, and you rapidly tapped Ace’s chest to let him know you were close.

He brought an arm up to your throat, gently closing his hand around it.

You grabbed onto his forearm and pulsed around him wildly as you finished all over him.

With a few more thrusts his hips started to twitch and you could tell by his erratic pace that he was close.

“G-gonna cum, baby- Gonna cum!”

You tightened around Ace’s cock, and felt the sudden hot spurts of cum filling you up.

When he was finished, he brushed your hair out of your face and gently tucked it behind your ears before lifting you up to pull out.

His cum leaked out of you and all over his thighs.

You laid down onto him, your sticky, sweaty bodies breathing in sync.

He rubbed your back and kissed the top of your head.

You started giggling and he joined in.

You slowly sat up and pressed a kiss to Ace’s sweaty forehead before collapsing onto the bed next to him.

He sighed and grabbed your hand, rubbing his thumb over yours.

“Wanna know something?” he said.

“Hm.”

“I love you!”

“I love you more! Do you wanna know something?”

“Always,” he said.

“You lose.”

kidd

“Kidd! Hurry up,” you called him into your bedroom.

You were sitting in bed, the covers messily thrown around you.

He walked into the room, his towel wrapped loosely around his waist, just barely dried off.

He still had his lipstick on, not having bothered to take it off, it was smudged messily around his lips.

Water beads were running down his chest and arms, and he smelled like lavender and shampoo.

He loved watching you get ready for bed and had started timing his showers so that he could be in the bathroom at the same time as you.

Something about the routine was so domestic- it made him feel warm inside. He’d never admit it out loud but by the third time he had made it a point to have all his work done so he could shower with you, you’d put two and two together.

He was completely entranced watching you take off your makeup, brush your hair, put on lotion like you always did, and, of course, watching you change. He’d offer to ‘help’ though, in reality, he just wanted an excuse to have his hands on you.

He sat next to you on the bed, reaching over to grab a pair of gray sweatpants you’d set out for him.

You sat on your knees, wearing an old torn-up t-shirt of his.

In your hands were two small pieces of chocolate, that you and Kidd had been eagerly waiting to eat.

“I'm here, darlin’,” he said, getting up to put on his pants.

“Won’t be needing those,” you giggled.

He turned to give you a kiss on your forehead.

“Ready?”

You kissed him, gently biting his bottom lip.

“That eager, hm?”

Kidd reached for one of the chocolates in your hand, which you moved out of his reach.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, hold on,” you were greeted with an eye roll, “I wanna make a bet.”

Impatience had been starting to show itself on his face until the word ‘bet’ fell from your lips.

His competitiveness outweighed his short attention span.

“What kind of bet, love?”

A devilish smile spread on your face, easily Kidd’s favorite of your many expressions, “I think you’re going to be so pathetically desperate that you’ll give in before I even feel it.”

He laughed, and your stomach twisted in anticipation at the way he looked at you after.

“Deal, baby, but what am I gonna get when I win?”

“Whatever you want.”

You blinked up at him, and he felt his dick twitch in his pants.

His confidence momentarily faltered, before he snatched a chocolate out of your hand and ate it as he made his way out of the room toward his office.

“I’ll be in there, baby. Working.”

You lay down on your side of the bed and waved him off, grabbing your book from your nightstand.

You knew five minutes in that you were destined for failure. You tried to focus on the book but the lines were blurring into one another and all you could think of was how Kidd’s hands felt when they were around your throat, or smacking your ass, or pulling you closer into him by your waist.

After an excruciating twenty minutes of resisting the pooling wetness in between your thighs, you swallowed your pride and made your way to Kidd’s office.

You lightly knocked before walking in, blushing from embarrassment.

Kidd sat in his office chair, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, beckoning you toward him with a few pats to his lap.

If you weren’t so achingly desperate to feel that hand grabbing and squeezing you, you would’ve given him a piece of your mind for calling you to him like a dog.

Yet, like a dog, you obeyed and made your way toward him tail tucked between your legs.

You were dressed in nothing but the t-shirts and a pair of black and white polka dot panties.

He pulled you onto his lap once you were close enough and you straddled him, sinking your lips eagerly into his, his lipstick smudging across both of your faces.

He loved seeing you like that- he took a guilty pleasure in seeing you marked up, be it by his lipstick or hickeys he wanted to see you completely covered.

Pulling away from the kiss to look at your lover, you suddenly became very aware of his hardening erection that was pushed snugly against your pussy.

It dawned on you now that had you stuck it out even just a few more minutes you probably would’ve won the bet. But that was the last thing on your mind and all you could think of now was the feeling of familiar hardness against your lower half.

A breath caught in your throat and your own arousal started to soak through your panties.

You could feel your heartbeat pulsing in your clit, the throbbing sensation starting to overwhelm you.

You pawed at his chest, desperate for some kind of give, and slowly started circling your hips against him.

“You like feeling my dick against ya? Hm?”

He patted your cheek lightly when you didn’t answer and you nodded.

“You want more?”

You nodded again, more enthusiastically this time.

He slapped your face- a little harder this time.

“I want to hear you say it,” he reminded you, holding your face in one hand, your cheeks squished together.

“Y-yesh, captain, want more,” you moaned, picking up the pace of your grinding against his lap.

“Sit up for me baby,” he said.

You did, raising your ass from his thighs.

He pushed your panties to the side and ran a cold, metal finger up your slit, gathering your slick arousal onto it.

“Ah! Please, Kidd, please. I’ve already lost, so don’t tease!”

He laughed at your desperation, “Quit whinin’ sweetheart, gimme a sec.”

He pulled the waistline of his sweatpants down and his cock sprang up, lying flat against his abdomen.

The tip was flushed pink and dribbling pre-cum.

Tentatively, you wrapped your small hand around the base and lightly pumped up and down.

Kidd made no complaints so you moved your hand with more vigor.

Your thumb swiped at the leaking slit on his head and used the arousal to pump him faster, earning heavenly moans to fall on your ears.

“Just like that, Y/n.”

You bit your bottom lip and bent down slightly to start pressing wet kisses to his throat as you pleased him.

You worked your way up to his jaw, and pulled away to look up at him.

He was in complete euphoria, his head leaning back against the chair, neck completely exposed to you.

You watched as his chest rose and fell, in sync with every up and down motion of your hand.

You slowly started to get yourself down from his lap- and his head shot up.

“Oi, oi, where’re ya goin’?”

“Shh, baby, just let me make you feel good.”

You could tell he didn’t like this at all, he was always in control.

He told you when to cum, where to lick, what to do, and this was driving him insane.

But the pleasure coursing through his body left his brain feeling too good to question anything.

You knelt down on the floor in front of him and guided his hand to your hair, which he gladly held up.

“I see,” he mused, a smile spreading on his face, “In that case, go ahead, darlin’.”

You wrapped both hands around the base of his extraordinarily thick cock, bringing the tip towards your already extended tongue.

Your hands worked in unison with your mouth, pumping him while you licked up and down his head.

When he was sufficiently worked up you enclosed your mouth over the smallest amount possible, gathering spit in your mouth.

It dribbled down the underside of his cock, providing you with the necessary lubrication to take him down your throat.

You started slow- Kidd was big and you knew you had to warm up before taking all of him.

His grip on your hair tightened as your tongue licked the underside of his shaft, and your lips wrapped around the rest of him.

His breathing was getting faster and curses were spilling out of his throat.

You finally took him to the base, your nose getting buried in his pubes.

You gagged and your eyes started to water, but Kidd held your head in place.

“F-fuck, shh, shh, breathe baby, breathe,” Kidd shuddered out, “Just like that, oh, good girl.”

Tears started falling from your eyes as your Captain sat back up, and started to slowly pump himself in and out of your mouth.

You could tell by the twitching and tensing of his dick that he was getting close, and your own arousal was starting to drip down your legs.

You sharply inhaled with every thrust he gave, holding onto his thighs to try and support yourself.

“So good f’me,” he panted, “Gonna cum soon.”

You moaned against him as he fucked your mouth, gently cupping his balls in one hand.

“Fuck!”

With no warning you found yourself swallowing hot spurts of cum.

“MM! Mmf mm mmm-” KIDD! Don’t do that-

He interrupted you with a loud laugh, “Sorry darlin’ I couldn’t help it.”

You swallowed and Kidd lifted you back up onto his lap, wrapping strong arms back around your waist.

You pulled aside your panties, letting your flooding arousal pour onto him.

You sat up on your knees, letting him rub his length up and down your slit, before slipping the head in.

You winced as you lowered your hips down, taking him fully.

He pushed up into you once he had bottomed out, earning a generous moan from you- music to his ears.

His hands tightened around your waist as he started to bounce you up and down, you were so wet that every slight movement was audible and filled the room with the sticky, wet sounds of you sucking him in.

He slid in and out of you so easily, and you were so tender that it wasn’t long until you were close.

With every kiss of his tip against your g-spot the coil in your stomach tightened, a strong, delicious tension pressed against the spot right beneath your tummy.

The steady smack, smack, smack that had started to fill the room clouded your thinking and you were completely rag-dolled by Kidd who was bouncing you at a relentless pace.

In a flash of white, hot pleasure you came- hard. Your fingernails dug into your boyfriend’s back, a few even breaking skin. Your thighs pressed against each other and you fell forward, leaning your full body weight against him.

The both of you sat in silence for a moment, the sound of your breathing filling the room.

Slowly, you sat up pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

“I win.”

Kidd’s brows furrowed, “No, ya fuckin’ don’t. You came in here begging for-”

“So? I walked in and you were already hard, so I won.”

“That’s definitely not how this works, love. You walked in wetter than water-”

“HA! I did not,” you lied, “I wasn’t even wet until I sat on your lap. You’re such a sore loser-”

Kidd laughed, and pressed kisses all over your face, “You’re a terrible liar, love.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Fine. What do you want as a prize?”

Kidd pulled you closer to him, your breath getting gently pushed out as your chest pressed against his.

“I want more.”

law

You flipped through the pages of a special Valentine’s Day magazine, dog-earing the pages of clothing shops and restaurants you wanted to visit with your boyfriend when he had time.

He was sitting at his desk, just a few feet away from you organizing medical files and equipment into his drawers.

His music was playing in the background, out of a small speaker you got him for his twenty-fifth birthday.

A smooth saxophone melody danced over a relaxing, steady drum beat.

He loved jazz.

Helps me concentrate, he’d said.

It had grown on you after a year of listening to it every night and there were few things you found yourself enjoying more than these late nights with your boyfriend, each of you doing your own thing while still enjoying the other’s company.

You were the cutest, sweetest thing in the world to Law, and on nights like these, he liked watching you when you thought he was completely absorbed in his work.

He watched as you’d read, play a video game, or map out your next course.

Laying on your stomach, you swished your feet in the air behind you, gently rocking them to and fro- a sign Law knew far too well.

“Bored, baby?”

You stilled your feet, feeling guilty that he noticed.

“A little,” you admitted, “And this magazine is making me sad.”

He quirked an eyebrow, asking for elaboration.

“It’s full of cute romantic stuff to do, but who knows if we’ll even get a chance. What with being outlaws and all.”

He smiled and put away the rest of the mess in front of him before sitting on the bed next to you.

You sat up, hugging your knees to your chest, and laid your head down against his shoulder.

“If you want to go to any of these places, you just let me know and we’ll go. Any marines or bounty hunters that try to intervene will be sorry.”

You giggled, “Should we plan out our Valentine’s Day then?”

He nodded.

“But first, I have something for you.”

You sat up at this, looking up at him with your big doe eyes.

He pulled out a small piece of chocolate from his pocket.

“Oh! Thank you! Is it dark chocolate ‘cause I don’t like the other kinds-”

You reached for it, but Law pulled back before you could grab it.

“Tsk, tsk- Hold on, my love.

We’re going to split it.”

You found it somewhat odd that you’d split such a small piece of chocolate and furrowed your brows, earning a laugh from your boyfriend who was unwrapping the candy.

“It’s an aphrodisiac.”

Oh! Your eyes widened, and eagerness pooled into them.

He froze for a second, “Shit- wait! Should I have waited until Valentine’s Day? This would’ve been a good surprise, dammit.”

You laughed out loud at his sudden change in demeanor and quickly reassured him that it was perfectly fine.

“Good to have a test round anyway, no?”

He kissed your forehead and handed you a piece.

As you ate he continued, “To make it a little more interesting, you’re gonna go to the library and I’ll go to the operation room. Whoever gives in first loses.”

“What constitutes giving in?”

“Asking for sex.”

You stood up, stretching your body out, fingertips extending toward the roof.

Walking out you stood at the doorway, turning to look back at your lover.

“You’re gonna lose.”

“I am? Oh, but what if I do this,” he said before he suddenly stood up and walked toward you, “Please, Y/n.”

Your panties flooded upon hearing these words, so sickly sweet and needy, and you pressed your thighs together.

Law slowly knelt on the floor in front of you, placing a large hand on the outside of each of your thighs.

He sank lower before you and pressed soft kisses up your legs, stopping at your knees.

Your heartbeat quickened and you could hear your breathing, now made up entirely of fast inhales and exhales like your lungs were trying to catch up with the frenzied, eager mess between your thighs.

A hand made its way between your knees and Law looked up to you, as though asking for permission to part them.

Your lips were parted and glossy, you looked so sweet and cute that he could feel his cock throbbing in his pants, the denim tightening around it.

This kind of eagerness, this lust that filled him had been completely unknown to him before meeting you.

He pushed your legs apart and his tongue attached to your left thigh, licking a long, wet stripe up it, stopping right before your pussy.

It took immense willpower to not give in right then and there, to not sink his tongue and lips into your wet, dripping heat. To stop himself from indulging in that feeling of the fat of your pussy smothering his face.

But he instead turned to your right thigh, licking and biting his way up it, marking your legs with love marks. Littered hues of dark browns and purples mixed with vibrant reds and pinks covered your thighs.

Your bottom lip trembled as you ignored every sensation traveling in and on your body. Your nerves were aching, screaming for you to ask Law to touch you. Beg him, if you had to.

But you resisted- blinking back the tears that pooled on your lower lash line in an attempt to refocus.

The surgeon took note of your resolve and decided to make it crumble.

He lifted your shirt up and over your head and unhooked your bra.

He watched, with an unnerving intensity as your tits jiggled around and softly pinched at your nipples.

Your cheeks were hot to the touch and goosebumps flooded your skin.

“A-ah-,” you moaned as he started to lick and suck your nipples, getting rougher and rougher. He held your breasts in his hands and pushed them against each other, sloppily licking over any and everything he could reach with his tongue.

You openly moaned now, completely overcome by the euphoric sensation you were feeling.

His tongue was soft and warm and wet and sticky and felt so, so good over your aching breasts that had been eager for his touch.

“L-law, please- Oh, my god, yes! Yes,” you whined and writhed under his touch.

He pulled away with a pop, “You like it that much, bunny?”

You fervently nodded and your hands found their way onto his head, tangling themselves in his dark black hair.

“C’mere, baby,” he said, pulling you in for a kiss.

You snaked your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, savoring how he tasted.

Pressing a hand against your chest, he laid you down on the couch and grabbed your legs placing them over his shoulders.

Your stomach tensed up, and you could feel your desperate pussy start to twitch.

He lowered himself so he was level with your soaked panties and placed a kiss right on top of your clothed clit, earning a series of pathetic whines from you.

You reintroduced your hands to his hair, gently pulling and tugging him toward your needy heat.

“This is what you want?”

He ran a long finger up and down your slit.

“Yes! Please, please Law. E-eat me out, ‘m so so wet for you,” you begged.

He pushed your panties to the side, and with a pointed tongue, licked up and down your slit- never quite touching your clit. He gathered the slick pouring out of your hole on his tongue and spit it back onto your pussy.

The teasing continued as he sucked and softly bit your lips, licking everywhere but the aching bundle of nerves that you could feel throbbing.

“Don’t tease!” you cried, desperate for him to give you what you wanted.

He laughed and with torturous slowness, started to lick your pulsing bud.

It was euphoric- waves of hot, warm pleasure flooded your body as you sunk your nails into the couch cushions, moans spilling from your lips.

He knew exactly what he was doing, where you liked him to apply more pressure, and where to ease off.

He had an iron grip on your thighs, dimpling the flesh where his fingers held onto you.

Your moans got less consistent and more strained as you got closer.

“Just like that, baby,” you panted, “Gonna cum!”

As he heard this, he pulled you even closer toward his mouth and your back slid down the wall.

His grip tightened on your thighs and would have been painful if not for how sweetly he was eating you out.

The obscene wet sounds of licking and slurping and sucking echoed off the walls of his room and you felt your core tightening as you got closer, your hips bucking up into Law’s face out of desperation.

In a split second, the winding cord snapped and you gasped, digging your hands into the tangled mess that was Law’s hair.

He slowly pulled his face away from your pussy completely soaked.

He had a drunk look in his eyes and you could already feel yourself wanting more.

Law picked you up, palming your ass, and carried you back to his bed.

The clock read 6:34 a.m. when the two of you finally went to shower.

Law did most of the work for you, as you were about ready to pass out.

He pressed soft kisses on your soapy shoulders and dried you off when you were done.

He went and grabbed your favorite pajamas for you and tucked you into bed with a soft kiss.

“And by the way, my love.”

You turned to look at him, lips still puffy from his assault on them.

Law took a moment to appreciate the way your nipples poked through the thin silk of your nightgown, and how gently your chest rose and fell as you started to fall asleep.

He sat next to where you lay on the bed, running a hand through your hair and rubbing circles on your back.

You turned up to look at him, beckoning for him to kiss you.

He bent down, your lips practically touching.

As a sly smile spread over your face you told him,

“Technically speaking, I win.”

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