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#the one on the table's like 'oh my~ set a new record have I? oh goody!~ do I win you as my prize?~<3' & this poindexter with fogged glasses
wigglyvania · 2 months
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It's gotta be normal, surely, to want to draw a character, but look at their face & think "I want to inspect this fella, I want to put my hands all over & get a good look at this chap from more angles than there are individual fucking specks of sand on every beach out there, I want to measure out all their details & how all the bits of their bod's particular build will squash in this pose & stretch in this other, I want to study this fucker" right chat?
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pityslash · 8 months
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eye for an eye.
rain beat against the windows of your home, rattling glass and you always wondered what you’d do if a storm broke through. you really should have gone grocery shopping last week. what day was it?
the weekend. bless all might, it goes by so fast. the sun had started to set and you hadn’t thought about dinner. your friend's birthday is next month, maybe you should start picking out a gift?
your screen lights up and you realize your phone has timed out. there’s new messages from the group chat, mentions from multiple people you didn’t know.
[6:03PM pinky sent a message: ONGG guys have you seen bakugo’s post????????]
your interest was piqued, katsuki? that must mean he was finally back from the mission overseas. he was never one for social media, he goes offline months at a time and was always the last to know of articles or trends— being in the public eye was exhausting.
[red riot sent a message: haha mina you’re always the first one to see
pinky: DUHHHH HE
pinky: HE VANISHES OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH IM SHOCKED HE POSTED RN
pinky: i SCREENSHOTTED IT Y/N WAKE UP YOUR MAN POSTED AND UR SO CUTE IN IT]
you left the chat on seen, checking his profile and there you find a new photo on his page. the caption was nothing but a single emoji, and you feel butterflies in your stomach the more you scroll through the photos, all but the last slide being him and random pictures with izuku and shoto.
no, the last one was you. a muted video from the last date you two went on, almost a month ago. you were busy slurping your favorite ramen and bakugo’s face was hardly visible, but from his eyes everyone and their mother could tell he was grinning.
your face is red as it plays once more, that bastard.
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“babe, look.” your mouth is wide open when you look over, just to see yourself with that goddamn record button taunting your very existence. he lets out a laugh, brash and so recognizable throughout japan. “katsuki stop—!?”
the mighty hero throws an arm around your neck, heavy on your shoulders. so he pulls you closer, the smell of black pepper strong, and he gives you a big kiss on the lips. “nah, gotta show the world.”
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liked by notalienqueen and 4,735,082 others greatexplosionmurdergo ☹️
“i’m home.” his voice was loud, but so different from how he was on live television. he always acted differently around you. you turn around, throw your phone onto the small table and see katsuki standing at the door, soaking wet.
he struggles to take off his boots. “oh my god.” you said. “i just mopped the floor this morning.”
but you can’t dwell on it when he’s finally back. “welcome home,” so you reach for his shoulders, leaning up to kiss the scar across his cheek to his jaw, skin sunken but it healed just fine, something you were more than grateful for. “i missed you, beautiful.”
katsuki returns the favor, eyes heavy and muscles sore. he lets out a deep breath, “gon’ shower.”
“okay..” the hero was already peeling his uniform off, dragging his feet to the bedroom.
birthmarks you’ve memorized dotted his arms and shoulders, and you catch the largest scar uncomfortably on his spine— “.. wash up and then you can tell me everything, i’ll warm up leftovers! your favorite.”
katsuki acknowledges with a hum and you’re left alone in the living room, heeding for the sound of running water.
[maincharacteryn added to their story.]
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steddiealltheway · 9 months
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(Set right before season 4)
Steve rushes over to the Henderson house after an ominous call from Dustin saying, "Come over as soon as you can, it's an emergency," before hanging up dramatically.
He can hear his nail bat rolling around in his trunk every turn he takes as he gets there in record time. He grabs the bat out of the trunk and rushes to the door, not bothering to knock before he barges in.
He's met with the sight of Eddie Munson staring at him with wide eyes as Dustin yells, "No! No! Don't swing! Not a code red!"
Steve sets down the bat and lets out a deep breath. "What the hell, Henderson?! I could've seriously taken you out with this thing!" He hears Dustin give him a half-assed apology as he tries to get his heartbeat to slow down. "Next time, don't leave such a cryptic message, okay?"
"Okay," Dustin says, holding his hands up.
"What the fuck is that?" Munson asks, staring at the bat.
Steve points at him and says, "Language," before turning to Dustin and asking, "What's he doing here?"
Dustin sighs and gestures them toward his couch. Steve shoots Eddie a look before taking a seat right against the arm of the couch. It's not that he hates him, hell, he's pretty sure he's gotten weed from him before. It's just that he doesn't like sharing this older brother role with another guy - especially one who likes to make dramatic speeches on top of lunch tables.
Based on the way Eddie is similarly leaning away from him and uncomfortably fidgeting with his rings, he can tell there's a mutual tension between them. Dustin doesn't pick up on it as he sits across from them, acting like he's about to deliver the worst news ever.
Steve leans forward a little trying to get Dustin to finally spill and tries not to lean back immediately when he sees that Eddie is doing the same thing.
"Okay, Suzie and I were talking, and her family is considering visiting Hawkins."
Steve smiles. "That's great, but why-"
"Why are you acting like that's bad news?" Eddie asks, finishing Steve's sentence. The two glance at each other, and Steve tries not to size him up.
Dustin groans, "Because I need to take her on a proper date! We weren't able to go on dates during science camp, so I want this to be special. Of course, this is all contingent on whether she can convince her dad to give us alone time..."
"I could be your chaperone, but I'd ditch you once you got to the movie theater," Steve offers.
Eddie scoffs, "Yeah, a date with Suzie will not be at a movie theater."
Steve crosses his legs and turns toward Eddie. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you knew something about dating. Wait a minute." He directs his attention back to Dustin, utterly horrified. "You asked me and Munson for girl help?"
"Don't sound so shocked," Eddie says, but Steve ignores him.
"Yes," Dustin states simply. He sighs and gestures between the two of them. "Steve, you're a lady's man and you know exactly what to say and where the best date spots are, but you pick up the worst girls. Except Robin who you refuse to date." Steve doesn't have time to argue before Dustin points at Eddie, "And Eddie understands all the cool nerd stuff that Suzie and I like, and he's super charismatic. So, I thought we could combine your abilities to create the most epic date in the history of dates."
"No," Steve and Eddie both say at once.
"Guys-"
Steve turns to Eddie and raises an eyebrow. "Why are you protesting my help?"
"Because try as he might, Dustin can't convince me that you aren't an asshole that has never actually wooed a girl. You get by with your pretty looks and think that's enough."
Steve's mind lingers a bit on the "pretty looks" for some reason, but he pushes past it to say, "Please, you're telling me you know a single thing about wooing a girl?"
Eddie leans in with a bright smile. "You heard it from Henderson, I'm charming."
"Charismatic," Steve corrects him, "But I haven't seen a shred of that yet."
Eddie tosses an arm over the back of the couch and scoots in until Steve is trapped against the arm of the couch. Steve tries not to show Eddie how much the sudden closeness is affecting him.
"I could easily charm your pants off, big boy," Eddie says with a wink.
Steve's eyes betray him and flicker down to Eddie's lips. "Please, I'd easily beat you to it."
Eddie tilts his head and looks at him through his lashes. "Are you saying you want to charm my pants off, Harrington? I'm flattered, but I'm not that kind of girl."
Steve raises his eyebrows. "Is that a bet?"
"Do you want it to be? Because it kind of sounds like it."
Steve blames his series of bad dates, the meaningless sex with girls with no substance, and the weird tension between them for his response. "It's a date, Munson."
"So, I'm going to assume that was the weirdest way of you two agreeing to help me," Dustin says, startling Steve away from Eddie who he was definitely not just about to kiss.
"Jesus H. Christ," Eddie mumbles under his breath as he moves away, seeming to have also forgotten where they were.
"Sure, we'll create a date for you two and trial-run it for issues," Steve says.
Dustin smiles wide and giggles, "See, I knew you two would help if you just put your dumb differences aside!"
"Something like that," Eddie mutters. "But hey, what does your gut say? Where do you want to take her?"
Dustin shrugs. "I like the idea of the movies."
Steve slowly looks over at Eddie and gives him a cocky smile. Eddie's mouth twitches momentarily into a frown, but he ignores him. "I'll think of something special to do after, but Harrington can fill you in on a movie date."
"I thought you were the expert on wooing," Steve snarkily replies.
Eddie huffs, "Movie dates just aren't my thing."
If they're actually trial-running this, Steve will make it a point to make movie dates Eddie's thing.
"That sounds great. Thank you both!" Dustin says, still ignoring the obvious tension.
"Well, I've got to head out, but it was good seeing you," Eddie says with a genuine smile that Steve thinks he would like to see more often.
"I do, too. Hey, I'm glad I could help. Next time maybe don't make it sound like a nail-bat emergency though," Steve says lowering his voice before grabbing the bat.
He follows Eddie toward the front, but they both stop and turn to mess up Dustin's hair simultaneously. Steve pulls his hand back when Eddie's hand runs on top of his. He looks at him with his eyebrows furrowed.
"I told you you guys are similar."
Steve thinks that Dustin's right, but maybe they're only similar in the way they both obviously care for him.
They finish their goodbyes and head out into the cold January weather. Steve clutches his jacket tighter around himself - he had forgotten to grab a heavier coat in his rush over. He turns to Eddie and says, "Hey."
Eddie turns to him and raises his eyebrows.
"Want to trial-run that date tonight?"
Eddie frowns at him. "I thought you were joking."
With that, Steve should take the clear out given to him and agree. Yes, it was just a joke. Instead, he says, "It doesn't have to be."
It's a long few seconds of Eddie staring at him before he gets a quiet response of, "Yeah, sure. Uh, let's go to my place though. I don't want your reputation to be tainted if you're seen in public with me."
"I wouldn't mind," Steve says sincerely. He's not sure why he's so adamant about this date, but maybe he just wants to see where that moment on the couch could truly lead. "But hey, your reputation would also be tainted if you're associating with me."
"And we wouldn't want that," Eddie says with a small smile. "The freak and the king. What would people say?"
This surprises a laugh out of Steve before he says, "I think your place would probably be a little more intimate than a movie theater."
He can't tell if Eddie's cheeks suddenly flush a little pinker from the cold or a blush. "I told you, I'm not that kind of guy."
"More intimate doesn't always mean sex. You know this."
Eddie laughs and shakes his head. "Why don't we continue this conversation at my place so you don't freeze to death?"
"I like the sound of that," Steve says, making his way to his car and trying to hide the huge smile that's trying to split across his face all because of Eddie Munson.
He rushes to shove his bat into the trunk, hoping that he won't have to further explain that to Eddie. But based on the way his eyes linger on it, he's thinking he won't get away from questioning too easily.
Luckily, he has prepared his Harrington charm for this moment. And boy, he's going to be using it as often as he can to prove Eddie wrong.
Part Two (aka the final part)
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heyimkana · 9 months
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24 Hours with You (Satoru Ver.) - Ep. 1
Series Masterlist Chapter Summary: The first episode of a mini-series where you’ll live through the hours you spend together with your husband, Gojo Satoru. Pairings: Gojo Satoru x Female Reader Genre: Domestic AU, Fluff, Romance, Smut, Humor Word Count: 8K Warnings: whipped, clingy husband!Satoru, sassy!Y/N, shoujo manga inspired backstory, endless sex jokes, and overall cavity-inducing fluff with a little bit of smut at the end (no actual sex scenes...yet)
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Episode 1: Morning
06.02 AM
Your very much-needed sleep abruptly comes to an end the moment your husband’s alarm—not yours—begins to ring, his phone vibrating on the nightstand next to his side.  You try to ignore it. You really do. After all, he just let you go to sleep three hours ago.
Granted, yesterday was Valentine’s Day and there was no way someone as insatiable as Gojo Satoru was going to end it with just one or two rounds of normal sex, especially not after he went out of his way, spending hundreds of bucks to buy you a set of lingerie that he’d been dying to see. He made sure to dress you up (you’re his favorite doll after all), his grin plastered ever so cheekily on his face. He held his phone steady in one hand, recording the way you not-so-gracefully stepped outside the bathroom in your new lingerie, dying out of shame because—“What the hell did you buy me?!” Which he casually replied with, “A bunny suit. Now turn around and let me see your tail.” To be honest, that wasn’t even the worst part.
(The worst part was when he said, “Now is my little bunny hungry for some carrots? ‘Cause I got a real nice and big carrot for you right over he—” He didn’t get to finish his line. You punched him.)
The alarm continues to ring, playing a song that you grow to hate more and more each day. “Ugh, turn it off.” 
Satoru doesn’t even stir in his sleep, which comes as no surprise. He’s still lying flat on his stomach, facing you with his cheek drowning in the comfort of his pillow. He looks peaceful. Innocent. Even when his parted lips are still somewhat smeared with the color of your lipstick. And he’s drooling—in an adorable way, of course.
“Satoru.” You nudge his shoulder. “Sa. To. Ru.”
No reaction. It’s like talking to a dead cow. You groan, your upper body pressing against his backside as you reach out to snatch his phone from the nightstand. With bleary eyes, you turn off his alarm before returning it to the table. You fall back to the side of your bed, flinching as your body still feels sore from last night. 
A smile forms on your face. Finally, it’s quiet again. 
You still have two more hours before you have to leave for work. I can still sleep for one hou—
The alarm starts again, playing the same damn song. 
Of course. How could you forget? Satoru’s the type who sets his alarm every ten minutes just because he’ll totally ignore the first fifteen times. Are you really this tired to not remember this? Yeah, probably.
You pull your blanket over your head. Maybe you can just pay no attention to it like your husband.
Just ignore it, ignore it, ignore it.
Yeah, you can’t.
You toss away your blanket, frustrated. “Satoru, turn it off!”
Finally, the devil wakes up. He moans, his voice husky and heavy with sleep, sounding so effortlessly sexy but you’re just too irritated to acknowledge it that way. “What’s up with the loud noise..?” Sinking back into his pillow and tugging his bedcover up until it reaches his ear, he mumbles, “Honey, I’m still sleepy… Let’s fuck some other time…”
“Oh, we’ll fuck never if you don’t wake up and turn that damn thing off.”
“It’s your alarm.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes.”
“Toru, it’s literally Hatsune Miku playing.”
He giggles, still with his eyes closed. “I love Hatsune Miku.”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” You repeat your motions, basically throwing yourself over him so you can reach his nightstand. Satoru lets out a little oof under your weight, groaning. “Babe, what—” You turn a deaf ear to him, making sure to sink your elbow into his back because he deserves it. Once you get his phone in your hand, you switch it off—the phone, not the alarm. “There. Done.” You slap back his device to the table. “Now let’s go back to sleep.”
You’re about to jump back to your side when a pair of strong arms tangle themselves around your waist, pulling you down until you land face-first on his bare chest. “I don’t think so, pumpkin,” he simpers, nuzzling the tip of his nose against the crook of your neck. Suddenly, he’s as bright as daylight. “I can’t believe you’re being so aggressive this morning. Did we not do it enough last night?” He puckers his lips, baby-talking you when he says, “Is my little baby bunny still hungry for her carrot?”
“Satoru, I’ll say this as nicely as I can. Release me now or there will be blood.”
“How is that nice?” He pouts, jutting out his lower lip. He’s hitting thirty and he still thinks he’s adorable when he does that (he is, actually, but let’s not tell him that). 
Now, boyfriend Satoru would have insisted on holding you close, but husband Satoru? Oh, husband Satoru has gone through some pain. He knows better not to test you. He releases you with a sigh, his eyes drooping like a sad puppy as he watches you crawl back to your spot. “You’re so mean.”
“You love me that way.”
The corners of his lips twitch up again. “That I do.” 
Satoru turns around to his side, gazing at you with the bottom half of his face concealed by the blanket he shared with you. He doesn’t really tell this often, but he loves seeing you in the morning like this. That silky nightgown. Those kiss marks on your neck and shoulders. The way your hair is so messy from all the tugging and pulling he did last night. You’re his masterpiece.
“What?” You ask, unable to sleep with how he glues his eyes on you.
“Nothing,” he smiles to himself. “You’re so pretty.”
At this hour? “That’s bullshit.”
“It’s true!”
“Well, thank you for the praise, my dear husband, but complimenting me isn’t going to make me give you a blow job at six in the morning, so can you stop staring and let me sleep? I have work in two hours. One hour and a half now ‘cause you keep on yapping at me.”
To anyone else, you would sound vicious, but like you said so yourself, this is why he loves you. To Satoru, you look the prettiest when you’re annoyed, especially when you’re annoyed because of him. It makes him feel special in such a weird way. Having spent all his life being objectified by women—and men—for his looks, and treated with endless flattery because he came from a prestigious family, you, with your feisty attitude, appeared in his world like a breath of fresh air. 
(Or maybe he’s just a masochist.)
With lips curving in joy, he pokes your cheek. “Babe, babe.”
“Go to sleep, damn it.”
“I will after you answer my question.”
“Just one?”
“Just one. Promise.”
“Fine. What?”
“Do you remember when we first met?”
You open your lids, staring flatly at the ceiling above you. This dumbass is really trying to play his nostalgia card at six in the morning. You take a glance at him from the corner of your eye. He has stars in his eyes. Great. You know he’s expecting a long answer but it’s too fucking early for this. “Yes.”
“You do?” He props himself up on his elbows, his voice a pitch higher. He’s basically sparkling, giddy with excitement. “What was it like for you? What did you think about me? Did you like me from the very first start? Did the world freeze when your eyes met mine? Hehe, I bet you had a massive crush on me~ I see you’re not saying anything so is it true? You totally did, didn’t you? Oh my God, baby, that’s so cute!”
You just lie there on the bed, half-dead, half-deaf, zero energy and he keeps prattling in your ear. “You’re really not gonna let me go back to sleep, huh?”
“Nope,” Satoru replies, making sure to smack his lips in case he wasn’t irritating enough. “Hey, hey, answer me, answer me.”
Somebody kill me, please. “Okay, fine, you wanna know the truth? I used to hate your guts.”
“Eeeeeeeeh?” 
“Don’t eeeeeeh me.” You pinch his cheek, ruining his pretty pout. “We couldn’t stand each other during high school, remember?”
“I never hated you, though?” He’s sliding his arms under his pillow, hugging it close as he peers at you with a twinkle in his eyes. “I’ve always found you cute,” he confesses, followed by a girly squeal. Satoru buries his face in the pillow, his legs flapping against the bed. “Aaaaah~ Saying it out loud like that is so embarrassing~”
“I’m gonna punch you.”
“No, seriously. You’ve never heard me saying I hated you, have you? And you know me. I hold my grudges. If I hated you, I would’ve made your life a living hell. But I didn’t, right?” He takes your hand, his thumb gliding across your knuckles before he replaces it with his lips. “I made you the happiest woman in the world instead.”
“With your money.”
“With my love,” he corrects you, flicking your nose. “Do me a favor and try to remember the first time we met. Didn’t I show you enough how much I liked you?”
The first time we met?
Okay, a little flashback.The first time you met him, it felt like you were living the life of a shoujo manga protagonist. Remember all those corny stories you read back in middle school? When character A—a female lead who was so clumsy, it was a wonder she survived the whole trip to school—met character B—the handsome male lead who seemed aloof and mysterious but turned out to be nothing but a warmhearted kid with a traumatizing backstory—in front of the school’s gate where they exchanged long stares filled with yearning and affection even though they just met? It always happened in the spring, for some reason, at the beginning of a new term. There were cherry blossom petals fluttering in the background, the words thump thump and syalala~ scattered all over the page among her inner monologue that went something like, “What a handsome boy… He looks like Prince Charming… And he has such long eyelashes too… Oh no, what is this feeling? Calm down, my heart! At this rate, he’s going to hear it!” Remember those corny lines? Yeah, well, your story went down just about the same.
“What are you panicking about? Just climb up and jump.”
“I can’t climb—I’m wearing a skirt!”
“You’re worried that I’ll see your panties? Honey, please, I’m a gentleman. I won’t stare. Plus, polka-dot panties aren’t my thing.”
“HOW DO YOU KNOW I’M WEARING POLKA-DOT PANTIES?!”
Okay, maybe your story didn’t go exactly the same. But it’s true that you first met him in the spring, at the beginning of the school’s term. There were no cherry blossom trees swaying in the background because God hated you and He wasn’t that fond of adding pretty things into your life. Gojo Satoru was pretty, sure, but only until he started yapping. And knowing Satoru, he’s always yapping.
You had promised yourself earlier that day that you’d do better. Be better. No more running late to school, no more procrastinating on your homework, and maybe even try to socialize more with people (you shuddered at the thought). You didn’t wake up late that morning, and you went to school just on time but there was a car accident on your way there, forcing you to take a detour, so—
“I hate my life,” you grumbled to yourself, staring tiredly at your high school’s gate in your fresh uniform that was no longer as crisp and tidy as it was from all the running you did. The huge wrought iron gate was closed and locked. The students were already sitting in rows inside the hall, sleeping through your principal’s morning greeting. You had your bag slinging on one shoulder, your short, pleated skirt swaying as it was kissed by the wind. Your hair was sticking uncomfortably to your skin, glued by your sweat. So much for wanting to keep perfect attendance, you thought. This is the worst.
Little did you know that God in heaven was like, “Worst? Oh, honey, I’m just getting started.”
Because there he was, a devil sent from the deepest pit of hell. Your ‘Prince Charming’, walking out of a fancy black car and kicking the door closed without even thanking the poor driver. Gorgeous silver hair. Electric blue eyes. Piercing in his right ear and a bubblegum lollipop in his mouth. 
Gojo Satoru.
He was a second-year student just like you but that was all you had in common. He was popular, so popular, and you didn’t have to think long to figure out why. He was a prodigy, excelling in both sports and academics, never failing to rank first in every exam, and it was so exasperating because he never seemed to pay attention to any of his classes. He was just born smart. And rich. Always carrying the new iPhone, never wearing the same outfit when he traveled outside. His Instagram was filled with photos of him taking trips to Greece and outer space (not true). His socks were made of rare breed silkworm’s saliva and his shirts were ironed by a dozen crying maidens (also not true). Apparently, his father was this big CEO who worked really closely with the government so you often heard his family name mentioned on TV. And, to top it all, he was handsome. Like unbelievably handsome. Even you had to admit that. Ridiculously tall, naughty smirk, pretty voice. He was the boy that Taylor Swift would make a whole album about.
Lucky bitch.
“I know,” Satoru said, noticing the way you were staring at him as he walked closer to your spot. He pulled the lollipop out of his mouth, gazing down at you (because, again, he was as tall as a tree) with one corner of his lips raised higher than the other. “I’m handsome.”
You weren’t exactly staring at him because he was handsome—okay, yeah, maybe you did. A little. “You’re late too?”
You had never interacted with him before and you were 99.9% sure he didn’t know your name, so maybe you should’ve started by introducing yourself to him. Or telling him not to be so cocky ‘cause who the hell started a conversation like that?
“Yep.” He plopped his lollipop back into his mouth, coloring his tongue blue. “But unlike you, I chose to be late. Needed my beauty sleep, you see, but you get that.” He stretched out both hands in the air, cracking his neck. A little strip of perfect fair skin was shown above his belt but you looked away, clearing your throat. 
“So,” he yawned. “Are you going to climb first or should I?”
“What?”
“The gate, genius.”
“You want me to climb up the gate?” 
“How else are you planning to go inside?”
“Well, true, but…” You looked around. Your usual school guard was nowhere in sight. Yes, the gate was quite high and you could hurt yourself making your way down but he could lend you a hand, right? It would be easy. You could stealthily slip yourself into the student’s hall after that. No one would notice. There would be no problem.
Well, aside from one thing.
“What are you panicking about? Just climb up and jump.”
“I can’t climb—I’m wearing a skirt.”
Satoru arched an eyebrow before he chuckled. “You’re worried that I’ll see your panties? Honey, please, I’m a gentleman. I won’t stare. Plus, polka-dot panties aren’t my thing.”
You blanched. “How do you know I’m wearing polka-dot panties?!”
“Oh, I got it right?” He rolled his lollipop to the side of his mouth for the sake of putting his annoying smile on display. “I must be a psychic or something. On top of my good-looking face? God really does have His favorite, huh?”
“Probably 'cause He feels sorry for giving you such a shitty personality.”
His jaw dropped. He knew he had a shitty personality but he thought girls loved that about him. “Well, aren’t you feisty,” he muttered, and you were worried for a split second that you might have upset him—not that you cared about his feelings specifically, you just didn’t want to jeopardize your connection with him (He was rich, okay? It would be great for your future career if you were friends with someone like him). But then, Satoru stuck his hands inside the pockets of his pants, leaning close with his lips pulled back in a cheeky grin. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Wanna go on a date?”
Oh, that did it. Those little chances of you having a crush on him? Gone. “Gross.”
“Ouch, okay, that actually hurts,” he pouted, rubbing the center of his chest where you just shoved him. After taking a moment to examine your face—you really did look like you wanted to kill him—Satoru gave up with a sigh, shrugging. “Well, whatever. I’m going in.” He pivoted on his heels, making his way toward the gate. “I’ll see you never, Polky.”
“Wait!” 
He clicked on his tongue, turning around to say, “Yell louder, will ya? Our school’s guard is practically deaf but I’m sure people in China would love to hear what you have to say.”
“You’re annoyingly talkative.”
“Part of my charm,” he replied. “I feel bad for you for not seeing it, honestly. Now, what is it? First period’s about to start.”
You thought about it, your eyes flying back toward the double-door gate that was attached to the compound wall. It looked sturdy enough to maintain both of your weights. If you made the jump, you’d still have the chance of being the perfect student for the rest of the semester. But did you really want to ask for his help? He was definitely not going to let it go if that was the case. Oh, you knew he was going to be so annoying about it.
“Any day now, cupcake.”
Yeah, I’m not doing it. You weren’t the type who was so against swallowing your pride if the circumstances demanded you to, but if it involved him? You’d rather die. “You know what, it’s fine. I’ll just go home.”
“What?” He knitted his eyebrows, watching you spin around on your heels. You were truly a piece of work, huh? So stubborn to admit that you needed his help. Throwing back his head and groaning dramatically, he exclaimed, “Ugh, fine. Just give me your bag.”
“What—Hey!” 
With nimble hands, Satoru managed to snatch it away before you could let the thought sink through. He carried it with one hand, not stopping under your command. You chased after him, and you were so close to getting it back before he flung your bag to the other side of the gate—and so carelessly, mind you. 
You watched it land on the ground in horror. “Are you crazy?! I got my iPad in there!”
“Whoops,” he grinned, clearly didn’t feel sorry in the slightest. “Okay, your turn, Princess. Come on, I’ll give you a lift.” 
Ugh, why is this happening to me? Left with no choice, you made your way to him. “Don’t call me that.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” He bent his body forward, exaggerating a bow. “I meant, it is now your turn, oh her Royal Highness of the Democratic Republic of Polkaland—”
You pushed him down by the shoulders. “Shut up and get down on your knees.”
“Oooh, so demanding~” he cooed, but his flirty tone vanished instantly the moment he felt your foot stepping on his shoulder.  “Whoa, wait—dude, your shoes!” 
Okay, that was your bad. Should’ve taken them off before you did that. Now his black blazer was painted with soil. “Sorry,” you winced. “I’ll help you clean later.”
“Yeah, yeah. You weigh like a ton, by the way.” Oh, you know what? He deserved it. Actually, he deserved more dirt. “Are you rubbing your soles on me?” He gasped.
“You wanted clean shoes, right?”
“Not by using me!”
You ignore him, curling your fingers around the iron bars. “I’m going up. Promise me you won’t look.”
Satoru sighed. “Like I said, I’m not interested in seeing your—aw, aw, aw, aw!” Tears emerged in his eyes. Not only were you stepping on him, you were also using his head to maintain your balance, gripping his strands a little too tightly when you felt that you were seconds away from slipping. “Fuck—Stop pulling on my hair!”
“I’m trying not to fall!” You regained your balance. Feeling a bit sorry, you placed both hands on the bars, gripping them firmly as you stood on his shoulders. You stretched out one arm, fingers clawing against the iron as you tried to reach the top. You got it. Now, all you needed to do was pull yourself up. 
On the count of three. One… Two… Three… Pull!
Eh?
“What now?” Gojo asked, his patience wearing thin. His shoulders were throbbing in pain. You weren’t actually that heavy for him. It was the way you were stepping on him, treating him like mud that’s the issue.
You felt your cheeks growing hot, your voice reduced to whispers when you answered, “I can’t do it.”
“What?”
“I can’t pull myself up, okay?!” You yelled in shame. You had calculated everything except for the part where you barely had any muscles in your arms to carry your own weight. “I’m too weak!”
“And you couldn’t have thought about that before you used me as your doormat?!”
“See, this is why I told you I was going home!”
“But your bag is over there—”
“WHOSE FAULT DO YOU THINK THAT IS?!”
Oh, both of you were giving each other headaches for sure. “Okay, let’s try another plan,” Satoru said. “I’ll go first and I’ll pull you up.”
“Can you? You’re built like a twig and you said I weighed a ton.”
“It was a joke, Polky, lighten up. And excuse me, I have muscles, all right? You just can’t tell underneath all these clothes I’m wearing.”
“It was a joke, Twiggy, lighten up.”
“Oh, you little—”
“Enough, we don’t have much time.” You climbed down his shoulders, exhaling in relief once you were back on the ground. “Want me to give you a push?”
“As much as I would loveto use you as my doormat, I got this.” He brushed the dirt off his shoulder and tossed his lollipop to the nearest bin. “You just stand there and look pretty,” he winked. “And try not to fall in love with me too fast.” 
Before you could land a kick to his shin, Satoru made his leap, making it look so easy that it almost convinced you to give it another go. He sat down on the top rail—thank God, this gate didn’t have any finials—with his legs settled on both sides to maintain his balance. He took a quick scan of his surroundings to make sure you were alone before he tossed his own bag to the ground. “Okay, I think we’re safe.”
Satoru returned his attention to you, and for a moment, you exchanged stares. “What?” You narrowed your eyes, suspicious. He just grinned, flashing his teeth and you knew he was up to something again. “No,” you mumbled out as realization dawned on you. “You’re going to leave me here?!”
“Abandoning my princess? Of course not.” His eyes glinted with mischief. “Say that you’ll go on a date with me and I’ll pull you up.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Am not.”
“I don’t even know you.”
“Well, this is your chance to get to know me,” he smirked. “Come on, just one date. I’ll take you somewhere fancy.”
“Not interested.”
His smile slowly began to fade the more you rejected him. “You’re seriously saying no?”
“Want to hear it in German? Nee.”
“That’s Dutch.”
“Whatever.”
Satoru took a moment to himself, both confused and baffled (and a bit amused, actually). But surely, no one would reject the Gojo Satoru, right? Yet, there you were, glaring at him as you said so. “Huh,” he poked his tongue against his cheek. You weren’t sure whether he found you vexing or even more… interesting. He accepted his defeat with a heavy exhale, just for now. “Fine. Call me Your Majesty then. If you do it cutely, maybe I’ll pull you up.”
“Oh my God, why are you suchan ass, Satoru?”
“Oh, the princess knows my name!” He claimed in delight, already forgetting the shame from your rejection. “It’s about time you tell me yours.”
“Yes, it’s Miss Fuck Off from Class B. Now, give me your hand and pull me up!”
“Say the magic word then.”
Oh, this isn’t worth it. This is so not worth it. “Fine,” you said, and to his surprise, you whirled around and walked away.
“Wait, you’re leaving?” His smirk faltered. “What about your bag, Sweetheart?”
You didn’t bother to look back. “I don’t care. I’ll get it tomorrow.”
“That’s stupid!”
“I’d feel stupider if I had to kiss your ass.”
“Would you prefer to kiss my lips instead?”
“Goodbye!” 
You stomped away. For a couple of seconds, there was silence, and you thought, oh, I actually managed to shut him up. You mentally gave yourself a pat on the back. You might not have your bag with you. Or your wallet. Or your phone. And if you were really planning to go home like this then you’d have to walk for five blocks, but! At least you got to leave him speechless. That was quite an achievement, wasn’t it?
“If you come with me I’ll pay for your iPad!”
You’re back at the gate. “Would you be so kind as to lend me a hand, your majesty?”
Satoru laughed. A genuine laugh actually came out from the devil’s mouth. It almost felt strange. Somewhere deep down, you imagined that he’d have a creepy laugh, or maybe even maniacal. But no. His laugh was so, so adorable. So boyish. So…heartwarming. It was the kind of laughter that would make you smile even when you were clueless of what he was laughing about.
“You’re funny, I like you,” he said, sending tingles to your cheeks which turned you completely into the typical shoujo manga protagonist. 
Eew, what the fuck, did my heart just skip a beat? Gross.
Congratulations. You just had your first shoujo manga-worthy inner monologue.
Satoru extended his hand. “You better hold tight, Princess.”
“If you let go, I’ll kill you.”
“I’ll keep you safe, I promise.” Another smile, and there it was again. Your heart doing things inside your chest. You tried to find some excuse, blaming all of this on his looks.
Satoru pulled you up, holding you securely yet so gently by the waist once you reached the top rail. He held you close, noticing how you were shaking a little bit when you felt the fence rattle underneath your weight. This is strong enough to hold us both, right? You couldn’t help but worry. When you were finally sure you were fine, you began to notice the pleasant, intoxicating smell lingering on the little space between you. His scent… It was wonderful—sumptuous and warm, and you figured, that described him perfectly as a person. A mix of cedar woods and cypress, with a bit of sweetness to it. It almost reminded you of—
“The Last Day of Summer.”
You blinked twice. “Huh?” 
“My perfume,” he smirked. “The Last Day of Summer by Gucci. You like it?”
“What—no,” you scoffed. “I didn’t even notice it. You smell like sweat.”
“Is that so?” He was definitely not buying your bluff, but he played along, just for a moment. Satoru leaned in, his right hand moving from the dip of your waist to your wrist, his fingers covering yours. You could feel the tips of his strands tickling your cheek, your body freezing up the moment his breath grazed your neck. You found yourself holding your own, your eyes closing shut when he took a sniff at you.
Wait. Sniff?
Satoru pulled away, scrunching up his nose. “I think that’s you, Polky. Did you miss your shower this morning or what?”
“I will push you.”
“Aaw, but then who’ll help you get back down?” He tugged you toward him, his face hovering just a few inches above yours. He tapped his finger against your nose, matching the words he said, “Not. So. Smart. Are you, baby?”
“You—”
“HEY! YOU TWO!” 
The thundering voice of a man caused you both to flinch. Your gym teacher—Yaga Masamichi—was there, probably glaring from behind his sunglasses and fuming in his sweaty track pants. “What are you doing?! It’s your first day and you’re sneaking out already?!”
“Interesting point,” Satoru answered, unbothered. “We’re actually planning to sneak in.”
“Teacher’s office. Now.” He didn’t have the patience—or maybe the time?—to stay and lecture you both. He walked away, grousing under his breath.
You let out a heavy sigh. It was only ten in the morning and you already felt so tired. Unlike you, Satoru was still brimming with energy. If anything, he seemed even cheerier than before. “Well, it sucks that we got caught but we had fun, right?”
“Let’s just get this over with.”
“Okay, Miss Grumpy.” He so casually ruffled your hair as if you had been friends for years. “I’ll go first.” He hopped off the fence, landing back on earth almost as gracefully as a cat. You wished you could follow his lead but from that height? You weren’t so confident. “It’s all right, Princess,” he said, noticing your worry. “I’ll be here to catch you.” 
That was actually one of your concerns. Not because he didn’t seem like he’d be capable of doing so, but more of what would come after he caught you. 
You’d be… in his arms, right? And then what?
Fuck, it’s just Satoru. You didn’t even care about him until now. Just jump.
So, you did. Without thinking too much about it, you removed your hands from the railing, but you didn’t jump toward him as you were too stubborn—and embarrassed—to do so. The chance of killing yourself over this was close to zero, right? You’d be fine.
You could feel your feet touching the ground. You were okay. Or at least, you thought you were. Your shoes, unfortunately, weren’t made to do such a reckless stunt. Your soles were too slippery, and like stepping on ice, you lost your footing, your eyes burned by the blazing sunlight as you felt gravity pull you down.
Until a pair of arms wrapped themselves around your waist.
“For God’s sake,” Satoru said, and you felt his words reverberating from his chest since you had your face pressed against it. He sighed, removing one hand from your hips to cup the back of your head. “You should’ve jumped towards me, you idiot.” You could feel his long fingers slipping between your locks, forgetting to breathe air into your lungs when he pulled away, gazing at you solemnly. “Look, it’s cute to be stubborn and not want to ask for my help, but what would you do if you got hurt?”
It’s corny to say this (actually, everything that had happened in the last fifteen minutes was corny. You weren’t sure why your life—and yourself—had turned into this state. You were doing okay before he showed up in your life.) but you were lost in his gaze. The sky above you was brilliant blue, so breathtaking as it was painted by God Himself, and yet… When you compared that to his eyes... 
They’re so pretty… He has such long eyelashes too…
(You have got to stop reading shoujo manga. Seriously. Maybe head over to shounen. Blood, death, and eternal suffering—that would stop you from thinking about his lashes.)
Satoru was close. So, so close, that a butterfly awakened in your chest.And was it just your imagination or was he leaning even closer to you?
“Huh…” he mumbled out. Locking your eyes together, he gazed deep into yours, not romantically—though you were too consumed by his stare to tell the difference. It was more like… He was in awe. 
You fidgeted. “W-what?”
“Your eye color changes a little under the sun,” he smiled, sweet and youthful. “Pretty.”
Mush. There was only mush in your head. And Satoru. “You—You’re too close! Get off me!”
He giggled, easily catching your hand before you could shove him away. “You’re blushing? So cute~”
“Why are you two still here?!” Yaga, the same teacher from before, returned with a volleyball in hand. Apparently, he left earlier to get his equipment. “Didn’t I tell you to go already?!”
“We’re going!” Satoru released you, clicking his tongue in annoyance—maybe a habit? “I swear to God, that man needs to get laid.”
“I heard that, Satoru!”
“I wanted you to hear that, Sensei!”
“Are you crazy?!” You slapped his chest. ��That’s a teacher you’re talking to!”
“Relax, my grandpa owns this school. He can’t touch me.”
Why am I not surprised? Biting back your sigh, you took a step back, only to realize, great, I bruised my ankle.
He noticed, even when you were trying your best to hide it. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” you said, doing as best as you could to walk without limping. “Thanks for the help. I’ll see you never.”
He matched your steps. “Did you sprain your ankle?”
“Just a bruise.”
“We should visit the infirmary first, just in case.”
“We?”
“I can’t possibly let you go alone.” He sounded like you were asking a dumb question. “Half of this was my fault anyway.”
“Yeah, ‘cause you threw my bag—”
“Because I’m so handsome that you felt too shy to just jump into my arms,” he spoke over you. His lips curving. “Wouldn’t have injured yourself if you just did what I said. But don’t worry. I’m sure there will be another chance.”
I hope not, you shuddered.
“Seems like you’re in pain, Sweetheart.”
“I’m fine.” 
“Want me to carry you?” He beamed at you. “Piggyback ride? I can do it bridal style too, if you want. It will be so cute, we can head toward the sunset together after school.”
“I’d rather die. And stop following me. I’m heading to the restroom.”
“Running away from me? Coward.”
“You want me to pee on you? ‘Cause I’ll do it.”
“Kinky, but maybe some other time.”
Thankfully though, he listened to you this time, returning back the privacy you’d been craving since the moment he opened his mouth. He watched you walk away, his lips slowly curving back up as a new sense of excitement and joy filled his chest. “Hey, Princess!” He shouted, making sure that you’d hear his next words even with the distance between you. “I’ll see you on Sunday!”
“For what?!”
“Our date!”
“Oh, fuck off!”
And that was it. That was how you met your husband. To sum up, he had no sense of delicacy, he talked too much, had no respect for your personal space, and the way he snickered every time he saw you? Ugh. Yes, he was pretty. Yes, he made your heart race. But you’re not that shallow of a woman to be with someone just because of their looks so nothing ever happened. Not right away, at least.
These childish banters and unfortunate meetings kept occurring during your years in high school. And as if that wasn’t enough, God reunited you once again in college. You thought you were cursed. He thought it was destiny. You still remember how you used to hold yourself back from ripping out his hair whenever he walked up to you, grinning from ear to ear while singing—not calling—out your name. But then you had this one class with him during your final year and your professor put you two on the same project together. You started getting to know him better, and you found out that Satoru had more sides to him, more complex than just a little brat who craved your attention. You got closer. You stopped rejecting his calls. You missed his cheeky grins when he wasn’t around. And when he kissed you when you were crying because your dog just died? It wasn’t that bad. It was comforting. It was warm. And sweet. It was wonderful.
(Yes, out of all the times he could’ve picked, he kissed you after you buried the precious family member who’d wiggled his tail for you for seven years)
And before you know it, he asked you to be his forever and you said yes. Immediately. Undoubtedly. Wholeheartedly. 
“Earth to wifey~” Your husband Satoru pops his head back into your vision. The ceiling that you’ve been staring at for the last few minutes turns blurry behind him. You blink, placing your focus back on him. “You suddenly turned quiet. Is it really that hard to answer my question? Babe, if you tell me you forgot about our first meeting, I’m actually going to shed some real manly tears.”
You heaved out a sigh. “Actually, it’s the opposite. I remember it all too well.”
“Aaaw, baby~” He reaches over to kiss you, only to have you slap a palm over his face.
“Now that I think about it,” you say. “You were so annoying when we first met. And disrespectful.”
He blinks, sweating. “B-babe?”
“Not to mention narcissistic, selfish, impolite—”
“Wait, hold up—What’s going on?!”
“You called me Polky. You called me fat—”
“Wait, this is not the reaction I wanted—You’re supposed to fall deeper in love with me!”
“You threw my bag without permission. You never paid back for what you did to my iPad. You kissed me on my dog’s funeral—oh wow, you were a little piece of—”
“Okay, forget the past, forget the past! Remember that you love me!”
“I think you should go back to your side of the bed.”
“Babeeeeeeee, I’m sorryyyyyyyyy!” He whines, tackling you in a hug, and rubbing his face on your stomach. “You can have my credit card for today. Buy anything you want, okay? No limit.”
“Okay, deal.”
You shake his hand, and the deal is done. Mission accomplished.
“Why do I feel like I just got tricked?” Satoru pouts.
You gently pat his cheek, smiling. “Remember that you love me, honey.”
You can’t help but think that if cupids were real, your cupid must have worked overtime cause damn, what tough work it was to make you fall in love with his insufferable ass. 
“Ah! You just thought I’m insufferable, didn’t you?” Satoru asks, squinting his eyes.
You plant a brief kiss on his lips. “I think about you that way every day, my love.”
“You are so in love with me,” he giggles, snuggling closer to you. “Baby, baby, I’m cold.” He circles his arms around your waist again, landing a cute kiss on your shoulder. You can tell he’s smiling like a child, hugging you like a child, and as much as you want to go back to sleep, you can never find the strength to push him away when he’s like this.
“Fine, we can cuddle. But keep your mouth shut. I’m going to sleep.”
“Okay~”
“I’m serious.”
He pretends to zip up his mouth.
“Okay, good. Stay like that.”
Satoru nods. He holds onto his promise. He keeps his mouth shut.
Can’t say the same about his other body parts though. 
Because your husband is now grinding his hips against your behind, not too much, not too hard, just enough to make you notice that yup, he’s hard. His hands slip underneath your nightgown, skimming over your thighs before they press flat against your stomach. He’s so warm—he’s always warm—and every touch he paints on your skin is both comforting and provoking. 
“Satoru,” you warn him. 
He makes humming noises in response, basically telling you, “I’m keeping my mouth shut, just like you asked.” He’s bratty that way.
You sigh. You decide to let him be. It will take more energy to push him away anyway. Besides, even if he’s insatiable when it comes to sex, Satoru will never force you to do anything you don’t want to. You just have to ignore him.
Which is not an easy feat, unfortunately, because before long, his hands find their way to your breasts, cupping each one fully with his palms. He makes another noise, which you easily translate to “Good morning, girls~” (You know this because he said that almost every other morning). Giddy, Satoru finds himself giggling again, squeezing them from behind but in a way that is so not sexy. It’s like a kid trying out his new squeeze toy in Toys-R-Us. 
You roll your eyes. “Really?”
“Mm-hmm.” He starts playing with your nipples this time. Again, in a totally not sexy way. He’s tweaking, pinching, poking your buds inside with his point fingers, and watching them pop back out again. He’s tittering near your ear and you should really find him annoying but you can’t help but giggle too. He’s so dumb for even finding this entertaining.
“You are unbelievable,” you say, turning your head around just enough to kiss him. You hope for dear God, you don’t smell like your usual morning breath, but seeing how he doesn’t smell like one and still tastes like the whipped cream he had eaten (off your body) three hours ago, you figure you’ll be okay.
You don’t plan to take this further than a playful kiss but when you feel your husband groan against your mouth, pleased by the way you close your lips around his so perfectly, you know you’re losing your battle, and you don’t care. Who cares if you only had three hours of sleep and eight hours of stressful work ahead of you? Satoru tastes so sweet on your tongue. He always does. And you’re addicted to him.
With a little push, you have him lying back on the bed. He has one hand resting on your nape, holding your head firmly as he kisses you deeper. “Satoru,” you sigh against his mouth, his tongue rubbing against yours before he moves down to pepper kisses down your neck. He stays mute, but only because you told him to before (though if you knew it would lead to this, you wouldn’t have said so). Your husband may have the habit of spouting out stupid jokes one after another in his wake, but he always says the right thing during sex. The things you want to hear. The things you love to hear.
You can feel him smiling against your ear, your body shivering at the sensation of his breath caressing your skin. You can’t help but expect him to whisper something, something that you know will make you curl your toes in excitement. Last night he had you begging to turn every filthy word he spoke into action. Today, he just takes your earlobe between his lips, his breathing steady but heavy. The sound of his lips parting… The little mmm when he sucks on the sensitive spot… You're losing your mind.
His touch no longer feels light on your skin, drawing out hushed moans from your lips when he kneads your breasts, his thumb gliding against your nipple from over your gown. A soft chuckle brushes your ear. He knows how much you want to hear his voice. It doesn’t feel right to you, feels like something’s missing. But he won’t do that. Not until you start pleading.
But two can play at this game.
You sit down on his lap, the strap of your nightgown sliding down your shoulder just enough to tease. The sight of the purple bruises he left on your cleavage the night before entices him. You’re so pretty. So pretty when you’re marked and bruised. 
With both hands on his chest, you nibble on your lower lip, rubbing your against his hardness. “I need you inside me.”
“Fuck,” he groans, losing his battle. He starts whining when he sees you giggling. “Baby, that’s not fair. You never said that to me before.” 
“Really?” You roll your hips, rubbing him at the right spot, the right pace. The way you move is obscene. The thin fabrics separating your body from his only add more excitement to your already burning skin. “And does Daddy like it?”
His face nearly explodes. “Oh my God, stop. You’re torturing me.” He sits up only to grab you by the waist before he throws you back to bed with one arm. 
You find yourself laughing when he blows against your stomach, treating you like a child. “Stop, that tickles!”
“I asked you to call me Daddy in the last three years we’ve been married and you always kicked me in the face, and now you’re saying it just like that?”
“What, did you want it to be special? Should I go make you a bath filled with roses, put Hatsune Miku on speakers—”
“Oh, that’s it, come here!”
You’re laughing until you can’t breathe, your leg pulled and your arm pinned behind your back. He tickles your sides, his smile playful and bright, filled with mirth. This joy you both have, you’ve never shared it with anyone else. And maybe he feels that too. Because when he flips you around, pressing your bodies together, Satoru’s gaze turns soft. He leans close, gathering your face in his hand. There’s no laughter, no giggle, no mischief in his eyes, only honesty. His voice sounds deep yet gentle when he speaks, “I love you.”
No matter how often he’s said it in the past, how much he’s said it yesterday, it always feels like it’s the first time you hear the words. And it’s rare for you to say it back to him, but he doesn’t mind. He understands that you often struggle to portray your feelings with words, too shy to say it under his overwhelming gaze, and if you ask him, it’s one of the reasons why he cherishes you so dearly. Because he knows whenever those words do come out of your mouth, you truly mean them.
Like now.
Cupping the back of his hand, you press your cheek further against his palm. “I love you more,” you whisper. “Every part of you.” And there’s so much more you wish you could say, but will your words ever be enough to describe them all? It wasn’t obvious to his eyes before as you were good at masking your emotions with sarcastic remarks and mean retorts, but reminiscing those old days you shared with him… It really made you realize just how much you’re in love with the man you’ve shared the last seven years with. You’ve grown so attached that even the thought of spending some days alone without him scares you to your bones. And with the way he’s gazing at you right now, ocean eyes filled with the same amount of passion and affection as they were on the day he confessed his feelings to you for the first time, it’s only right for you to be overwhelmed by your emotions.
Sometimes it scares me because I never thought I’d feel this way about someone.
Even the simplest thought of losing you, of not having you wake up beside me in the morning, is enough to haunt me for days.
Stay with me. Don’t ever leave me.
I love you.
Satoru.
“I just… I love you so much…” And you hate that it’s all you could say. 
But it’s enough. It’s more than enough. Because Satoru is blushing, his eyes turning round, his lips parted but no words can be found. He just looks at you, astonished by the vulnerability you display on your face. The honesty. The purity of each gesture. How beautiful you are…
“Satoru?”
He pulls you into his embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Hugging you so tightly, he barely gives you a chance to breathe and yet, you only wish for him to hold you tighter. You can’t tell just how much your words paint vibrant colors to his world—and bold red to his cheeks. “Are you planning to give me a heart attack?” He murmurs near your ear, a hint of shiver in his voice. “What the hell was that?” 
You can’t help but chuckle. Embarrassed Satoru is the best kind of Satoru. “Sorry.”
“You kidding me? Say it again.” He returns the space between you, but only for an inch or two because that’s all he can bear. He strokes your face, his heart beating hard enough that you can almost feel it on your skin. “I think this is the cutest you’ve ever been.” 
“I’m maxed out for today, though,” you say, wincing. “You’re gonna have to wait another ten years before I say that again.”
“I’ll wait forever if that’s what it takes,” he smiles, gliding his thumb across your cheekbone before he kisses you. “My sweet, sweet wife. I’m so happy I kissed you that day. Sorry your dog died, though.”
You chortle. “Honestly, you couldn’t have picked some other time?”
“You looked super cute when you cried, okay? Sue me.”
“You’re so ridiculous.” But you press his lips against his anyway, both of you smiling into the kiss.
“Babe.”
“Hmm?”
“Can I have your tits back in my mouth?”
“Sure, why not.”
“Can I… also bring my carrot back to my bunny’s mouth?”
“Aaaaand we’re done.” With a little shove to his chest, you send him back to the bed. 
“Wha—” He sputters, mouth opening and closing like fish out of water. “Babe—”
“I’m gonna go make some coffee.”
“No, wait!” He shuffles quickly to his knees, holding onto your wrist. “Honey, I was kidding!”
“Moment’s gone, Toru.”
“But I’m still haaaard,” he cries, and whines, pleading at you with his pretty eyes.  “Baby, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll behave so come back to me? Please?”
You already have one foot off the bed, tossing him a look over your shoulder. “You have hands.” Tying up your hair in a messy bun, you step down, smirking. “Use them.”
“Babeeeeee~”
You lean in to kiss him on the nose, patting his cheek when you say, “Take your time.” 
As you walk away, you hear him mumble sadly behind you, “But your carrot…”
Yeah, your husband is insufferable.
And that’s why you love him.
***
Next Chapter
Shoutout to @justasketch and @princess-okkotsu for being my first readers and for not throwing up from the excessive amount of cringe in this fic. Love you, babes ❤️
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fanfiction4sooya · 9 months
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Pretty Pet (Sana x F!Reader)
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Had fun writing this one! Hope you guys enjoy as much as me 💖💖💖
tw: mean stepmom sana, dog leash, pet names, fingering, fisting, oral sex, nipple play, mentions of breeding, cheating, stepcest!, squirting, etc.
You hated her . Oh, you despised Minatozaki Sana with your whole being. That vile, evil woman.
"She took my necklace dad, I know it!" You told your father for the tenth time already, glaring at her. "She knows I only take it off to swim, that's when she took it from me!" Your eyes were full of tears, but you wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing them fall.
"It's enough!" Your dad's voice echoed trough the walls of the mansion, startling you. "Don't say those things about your stepmother, she doesn't deserve this" He shouted and she held his shoulder to calm him down.
"Please, don't shout at her" She said, softly. "She is stressed about college, it's okay" Her voice was like honey, but her eyes had this mockery in them. "I'll help her find it ok?" She said and his eyes softened. "When we find it, she'll apologize and everything will be ok, don't worry" He backed down.
"Okay, darling" He turned to her. "Please, excuse my daughter's behavior" He kissed her knuckles and all you could do was watch as that snake hugged your dad. "Her deceased mother gave her that, she is just desperate" She shook her head, letting him go and taking both of your hands on hers. You almost pushed her, but you knew it would only add fuel to your father's anger.
"We'll find it together, don't worry baby" Her condescending tone made you recoil in disgust.
You kept searching, turning the house upside down and she "helped". Of course you knew she took it but you still hoped for it to be somewhere else.
On the third day of searching your dad had to leave for an emergency work trip, advising you that he wouldn't tolerate any sign of trouble between you and his new wife. You just accepted your fate, realizing that you would do anything to have your necklace back. Even if that meant set her up.
"Sana" You knocked on her office's door, she was staring at a book. Her eyes darted to you, a smile appearing on her pink lips.
"yes, baby" She said, lowering the book and going to meet you halfway, her frame quite taller than yours.
"I know you took my necklace..." You told her, staring at those eyes you hated. "Look, I won't tell anything to my dad but please, please give it back" You tearfully said. She pouted, taking your hand.
"I never took your necklace, baby" She smiled. "Please, understand this" Her eyes went to your hand, taking your phone and stopping the recording. "Do you really think I am that stupid, pet?" She whispered on your ear, angering you even more. "I was about to make a deal, but you had to piss me off..." She passed you, sitting on the leather couch of her office and crossing her legs.
"No, please" You pleaded kneeling in front of her, clutching her jeans as a tear dropped from your right eye. "I'll do anything, give you anything Sana, please" You told her, touching her knee with your forehead in order to hide your tears.
"Oh..." She cooed, petting your head. "Anything? Really?" You nodded, looking up at her sly smile, sniffling a little. She lifted your face by the chin, squeezing a bit to bring your face close to hers. She analysed your soft features from your forehead, cheek bones, eyes, everything. "Alright then" She breathed out, letting your face go. "Meet me at my room tonight"
Her face was serious, scarily so. You nodded.
🌸
You realized none of the housekeepers were at home, so it was just the two of you. The realization sent chills down your spine, the thought of Sana hurting you made you anxious. The door was half open and you could see her back turned to you as she was sat in front of her dressing table. Her eyes averted to your figure standing there through the mirror.
"Come inside" She said, looking down to her lap. You did so, a little bit lost at why you were there. She stared at you again, still not turning around, you could see her pupils were blown, her eyes staring at you as if you were her prey. "Will you really do anything I want?" She said, getting up and walking towards you.
"Yes" You said, your voice a bit shaken. She took your answer in, nodding.
"You are going to undress now" Your eyes widened a bit, trying to process what she had just said. "What? You are going to protest now?" She said, cocking an eyebrow.
"I..." You looked down to your feet, heat rising to your cheeks.
"If you don't want to, it's okay then" She traced one slender finger on your shoulder, over your pijama top. "I'll throw that pretty little necklace away" You opened your mouth to protest, frowning at her, but the way she looked at you felt like she was ready to really throw it away so you just shut it.
Looking down, you slowly pulled your top over your head, your breasts on full display for her view; doing the same to your shorts, you stood there only on your white cotton panties.
"Look up, puppy" Her voice sounded strained, out of breath. You were finally realizing what she wanted, that white lingerie under her robe was the last hint. "I told you to look up" She said firmly and you finally did. "That's better..." She stepped forward, putting something around your neck.
A pink dog collar and a leash.
"Sana..." You held her wrist, your heart thumping on your chest . "What you are doing to my father is wrong" You gulped, trying to reason with her.
"You are still thinking about him?" Her breath fanned over your face, heat rising from her body to yours. You shivered when her breasts touched yours so she would talk on your ear. "Just remember that your daddy chose to believe me over you, pet" She cocked her head to the side, taking in your scent. "He took my side, not yours" She smiled, staring at your lips. "You want your necklace back, I'll give it back..." Her voice sounded poisonous now. "But you have to be a good puppy for me" She pulled the leash down hard and you whimpered, clasping your hand over your lips when realization hit.
"I'm sorry"
Why were you apologizing for? Whimpering? Feeling aroused when the woman you clearly hated was basically fucking you with her eyes? Are you sorry for what you were about to do with your father? You were taken from your own mind when her laugh hit your ears.
"Don't apologize" She said, pulling down again. You wanted to scream, run away. But you really wanted your necklace back and her gaze made you freeze on the spot. "Take off your panties, puppy" She sat down on the bed behind her, her feet still touching the ground.
Slowly you did as she told, covering yourself. Her eyes danced around your naked body, they had this certain amused glint; perverted, scary, shaming... arousing.
"You have no idea what I felt when I saw you for the first time, puppy" She said, tossing her head back to take a deep breath. Her gaze came back even darker. "I fucked myself over and over for days just thinking about this very moment" She tossed her robe aside, now her fit body was only in that white lingerie set.
"You are crazy" You said, earning a hard pull of the leash.
"Don't talk to me like that" Her demeanor changed. Suddenly she got rough, serious. "On your knees, now" You did as she told, shivering. "See? You are a good pup, after all" She leaned forward.
Taking off her lingerie she sat back down, fully exposed to you now with her legs crossed. Your eyes lingered on hers, a silent battle as you tried hard to fight the thought of her naked body making you feel anything other than disgust.
She opened her legs and you closed your eyes, turning your head down as a deep blush covered your cheeks.
"Don't" She said, pulling on the leash and making you lose balance. "Don't close your eyes. Watch me" Her voice felt like a wake up call, an alluring alarm.
You opened your eyes, gulping when she presented her dripping cunt to you, her fingers spreading her pussy lips for your eyes only. You didn't wanted to, but were one hundred percent sure she knew how you were feeling. Your breathing was shallower, your pupils a lot more wide than before.
"Come here puppy, make me feel good" She said circling her hard clit with her middle finger, licking her lips. You couldn't move, millions of thoughts going through your mind as she pulled the leash.
You were literally facing her cunt from above, the smell of her arousal made your head spin. Sinful, delightful. With a little resistance, you put your tongue out, looking at her face as your tongue finally made shy contact with her dripping core. She moaned loudly and you closed your eyes tasting that strange, yet delicious taste.
You felt her getting restless above you, her eyes trained on your pretty face as you kitten licked her clit. Pulling your face closer to her cunt by the leash, she panted.
"You'll have to work hard for your necklace puppy" She told you. "Whether I give it back or not will depend on how well you serve me" She shivered when you whined against her pussy. If you had to work hard you would.
With a flick of your tongue on her clit you realized how Sana was aroused by anything you did, she literally just wanted to sodomize you, just make you bend to her wishes; so you literally just started to sloppily make out with her pussy. Your nose brushed against her clit as your tongue swirled around her slit, pressing your whole face against it.
"Good girl" She rolled her eyes, trapping you there with her thighs. It felt hot and so arousing the fact that she would literally take anything you gave her, even if you had no experience in it. You shivered, your own pussy dripping with how well she praised you. "That's it puppy, keep kissing my pussy" She pulled the leash so hard you were suffocating but you didn't wanna stop. "I'm gonna cum on your face puppy, keep your tongue there" Her eyebrows were knit together, her angelic features softening as her cum gushed on your tongue, dripping down to your chin and breasts.
You kept slurping, closing your eyes as you felt your own pussy clench hard, completely deafening you. It was as if her orgasm had triggered yours and you started to shake violently, moaning against Sana's core. You kept shaking with your face deeply buried on her wet cunt, her surprised eyes completely blown with how she stared at you.
"Did you just came untouched, puppy?" She pulled your leash, lifting you to face her. Embarrassed, you whined closing your eyes. "No no, don't feel embarrassed" She squeaked, kneeling in front of you to shove her tongue in your throat. "That is the hottest thing I'v ever seen, fuck"
Her kiss felt sinful, deep. Maybe the sin was to cheat on your father with his daughter, but at that very moment the sin was that she hadn't done it before. Her tongue danced against yours, moving freely and both of you moaned when she held your face with both hands to suck on your tongue.
You were at her mercy, your body shaking from the orgasm and how she touched you. You were literally just passive, letting Sana do whatever she pleased.
"Sana..." you moaned when her boobs pressed against yours, brushing up and down. Your eyes locked with hers for a moment, then her beautiful jaw slid against yours as she grazed your faces like a cat demanding affection.
"Pretty little pup" She closed her eyes, your tits pressing against hers felt crazy arousing. "I wish I could breed you" She whispered on your ear, her hands caressing on your torso to stop on your pussy, her fingers pressing over your engorged clit. "I would impregnate you baby, make you forever mine" She was talking nonsense by now, you thought.
But she was serious, damn right she was. If Sana had a natural cock she would breed you over and over, let you dripping with her cum so you would have to carry her baby, her possessiveness growing when she thought about it.
"I would fuck you so full, puppy" she kissed you again, your pussy throbbing against her fingers. She pressed the tip of two of them on your slit and you screamed, struggling to hold back. Your arms circled her neck, bringing her frame back to touch yours.
You were so wet the sound coming from your pussy embarrassingly loud. Your hips moved against her fingers, your mind only thought about one thing.
"Mommy, mommy!" Your eyes were doe and teary, making her shiver.
"Oh my fucking god" She rolled her eyes upon hearing that. Time stopped for her to hear you again. Her fingers slammed back into your puffy pussy, now she pressed three fingers. "Mommy please oh fuck" you cried out, feeling that desperate hunger for your orgasm.
She felt so good against you that you wanted to cry. The two of you wanted the same thing, to merge together in one body.
Sana pulled your hand to her mouth, spitting on it, then caressing her own wet cunt with it.
"Fist me" she told you, still roughly fucking your cunt. You gasped, feeling goosebumps on your scalp; that thought felt sinful and unreal.
"I'm - it's gonna hurt" You moaned when she curled her fingers up on your g-spot.
"Do it puppy, don't worry" she guided your hand, both of you looking down at her slit.
Slowly, she stretched her own pussy with your fingers, four at a time. Your eyes widened and hers closed slightly, you sitting in front of each other gave full view for the other. She guided your thumb to her hole as well, pulsing when you pushed it in by yourself. She closed her eyes, her movements stopping.
"Mommy" you whined, scared that was hurting her. That didn't feel real, something you thought it only happened in porn. You gulped, drooling at the sight of her cunt fully stretched for you. She started to hump up, moving her hips against your first.
"Look what you do to me" She moaned, back to roughly fucking you. She kissed you, her tongue everywhere on your face. Sloppy. Fuck. "I'm so full puppy, fucking hell" She said as you started to move your fist without her bucking her hips.
It was rough and raw and oh, so wet.
"Mommy I'm cumming" You cried out, biting her lips with strange force when her thumb went to your clit.
"Come for me puppy, my baby" She kept her eyes wide open when she felt you clench of her three fingers, creaming on them. Her gaze well trained on your beautiful face as you contorted in pleasure. "Fuck fuck fuck" she screamed, squirting again when your fist reached deep into her.
Both of you stopped, shaking too much to do anything more than pant on each other's lips. She took her fingers off of your pussy and you gasped.
"I had never done this..." you managed to tell her. "three fingers felt good... too much" you whined and she pulled your fist from inside of her as well. Her fingers on your mouth and she licked your fist clean, moaning upon tasting herself.
"Next time..." She kissed your neck, hugging you against her. "Next time I'll make you take way more than three fingers puppy" She caressed your hair, not caring for how wet both of you were. She kissed your cheek. "Now you are mine, ok?" She told you. "Only mine" She whispered.
"my necklace..." you whined and she smiled.
"I was going to give it back puppy, I don't wanna make you cry" She pulled your sore body from the floor to her and your dad's bed. "Mommy just wanted your attention, okay?" she pulled the covers above your body, spooning you. "I'll give it back, don't worry"
You nodded, body light as a feather. Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to relax on Sana's arms.
"Mommy what about my dad?" You asked her, almost drifting off to sleep. She sighed.
"If we want to keep doing this, you'll have to keep quiet puppy" She told you. "Wanna know a secret?" she whispered.
"Yes, please" Your voice sounded small, sleepy.
"I married him for you" Her voice sounded sweet, sweet enough for you to ignore the obvious red flag on that statement.
You smiled, Sana knew how to mess with your head.
-🌸
The other day when you woke up, you weren't wearing the collar anymore; instead, you felt your mom's necklace around your neck and Sana's body possessively holding you close, completely asleep.
When your dad came home he felt the happiest man alive with his two favorite girls getting along so well.
You even started calling Sana "mommy".
950 notes · View notes
courtingchaos · 11 months
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Teeth
Eddie Munson x Fem Reader
Summary: You and Eddie are freaks. He has a little accident, you have a fun little hobby, and he shows you how he really feels about you’re whole Deal.
Warnings: Teeth. I mention them a lot. Blood, cursing, sex.
A/N: Did I start another blurb series before even publishing the series I was supposed to start last month? Shut the hell up oh my god why are you up my ass about it????
18+ NSFW No Minors
Eddie hooks his chin on your shoulder while you stare at the giant shadow box on the wall.
“Are they all human teeth?”
“Mhm.”
“Isn’t it illegal to own human remains in the US?”
“Well, remains and bones are different categories.”
He knew that would set you off, your phone pulled out for google to fill in your blanks. Eddie laughs at the first result, The Bone Room, and the two of you get a good chuckle out of it for a solid minute.
“Okay so I was wrong, but do you want to own a random set of teeth? What if they’re haunted?” Eddie watches your reflection in the glass front and can’t help but laugh when your eyes go big.
“One could only hope.” You whisper.
“Okay Morticia.” He leaves you to peruse the case of teeth while he wanders over to the weird clown doll corner. This was another little oddities shop you’d found online and asked to go to and he was more than happy to oblige. He also liked weird shit and there was usually a record store close to these kinds of places and of course you needed to find a coffee shop and it would always turn into a fun day date for the two of you.
When he finally gets away from the dolls he finds you at the main counter looking into the glass display while the clerk explains the jewelry inside.
“What’d you find?” He asks, bending directly in half to stare at the tray of rings in front of you.
“More teeth.” You give him an over the top smile that he returns, snapping his jaws at you while the poor woman behind the counter watches your flirting. She tells you prices instead of paying the two of you any mind and you hem and haw while Eddie just takes his wallet out to slide his card across the glass.
“Ed.” You don’t even look up at him when you warn him.
“Which one was it? Is it the big molar? It’s the big molar isn’t it?” He gives the clerk a scoff. “Can you believe this? I take her out here and she thinks I’m not buying her a tooth ring?”
In the cafe you’d found ahead of time you inspect your new ring while he chews on his straw, watching your rub the crown of the tooth.
“You really didn’t have to buy me this.” The barista comes over then with your coffee and a massive croissant. “Or that.”
“What? It’s a sweet treat for my sweet treat.” He tears a piece off and wiggles his eyebrows. “Also a sweet tooth for my sweet tooth.”
“Now you’re pushing it, Munson.”
“You love it.” He pauses when you kick his boot under the table and it turns into a violent round of footsie.
“Can I ask why teeth?”
“I don’t know. I just think they’re neat.” You shrug and fiddle with the ring on your middle finger. “They make a cool sound if you click a handful together. Very satisfying.”
“Yeah?” The smile is evident in his voice, even if you don’t look up to see it. “Sure there’s nothing else?” He goads, waiting for you to look up and narrow your eyes at him.
“And maybe I also want to crunch them like a sugar cube.” You make the exact face he thought you would and it makes him feel a warm coil of familiarity.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“I knew you wanted to do something weird with it.” His laugh turns into a cackle when you discreetly bring your hand up to click the ring against your front teeth.
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“Okay so if it’s loose like…No I mean I can see it moving in the socket…ugh god, yeah…alright…” Your tone doesn’t give Eddie any hope and when you scrunch your face up while the dentist office tells you something longwinded, he sighs.
“How much? Oh shi- yeah okay. Thank you though.” You hang up and shoot him a steady look. “Guess.”
“I’m gonna loose it?” Eddie says, bag of frozen green beans held against his cheek.
“No shit.” You set your phone down and make your way to him leaned back on the couch. “You could potentially keep it for a cool $600 though.” Your hand replaces his on the slowly thawing bag and the sharp intake of breath isn’t from the new pressure on his bruise.
“$600 for one tooth?”
“Mhm.”
“Fuck it, I’ll just pull it.” Eddie sighs at the ceiling and closes his eyes. He’d been fucking around, trying to swing his guitar around his shoulders during practice. Had actually managed a few turns but when you’d come to pick him up he wanted to show off. A fast toss over his shoulder and he didn’t see the corner of the body barreling for his cheek.
Your loud gasp and a lot of blood down his front later, he was in pain and slightly humiliated but definitely not out $600.
“Will you help me?” He gently rolls his head your direction, his cheek cradled between veggies and your palm.
“Of course.” You smile sadly at him. “It’s gonna hurt though.”
“Yeah but I like that.” He wiggles his eyebrows and you slap his chest, t-shirt still stained red.
“Come on, ladykiller.”
In the bathroom he braces his hands on the counter while you try to find the best angle to pull his tooth out at.
“I’m trying to not just have my whole fist in your mouth.”
“That’s hot.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Yes ma’am.” Eddie grins at your flat look. You blindly grab the pliers from behind you on the vanity and take a deep breath before holding his mouth open.
“Please don’t bite down.”
“Eye hot yuh yiked hat.” He’s drooling around your hand and trying to be cute. It’s unfortunately working on you.
“Not like this, no.”
He feels the pliers on his tooth, a gentle tug while you rearrange and then you look at him. Eyebrows scrunched and a concerned look in your eyes. “You okay?” He nods. “This is gonna hurt baby, I’m sorry.”
He barely has time to process what you’ve said. He was waiting for a count down but instead you’ve yanked once, swiftly and without remorse. There’s a small clatter where his tooth bounces around in the sink and then he feels the pulse of pain. A new rush of blood floods his mouth and he doubles over the sink to spit and moan.
“You didn’t even warn me!”
“You would have bitched out and you know it.” You rub his back while he pouts and keeps spitting into the sink. When you disappear to get him a glass of water, he rinses out the sink and picks up his tooth to inspect it. “What tooth is this anyways?”
“The tech said she thinks it’s a premolar from what I told her.” You answer as you come back into the cramped bathroom. He pulls his lip back to stare at the dark space between teeth.
“You don’t already know which one it is?”
You just roll your eyes. “She did say it was good that you didn’t crack it, could have been worse.” You shrug and Eddie holds out his hand to you, tooth sitting in the middle of his palm.
“It looks cool.” He says, rolling it around until you pick it up gingerly and inspect it. There’s a little bit of blood stuck in the root but you keep turning it over, running the pad of your finger over the ridges.
“You’re gonna keep it right?”
“Duh.” He laughs. You hand it back to him and help him clean up from his traumatic afternoon.
A couple of aspirin and a hot shower later and he’s ready for bed, just waiting on you to finish in the bathroom. He watches your shadow under the door where light seeps out and runs his tongue for the umpteenth time through the new space in his teeth. He’s not trying to make it worse but it’s a foreign void that he can’t stop fucking with. The bathroom door opens and you’re already staring at him, head cocked to the side. “I can see you tonguing that spot from over here.”
“You’ve got a spot I can tongue.”
You don’t respond, just turn off the lights on your way into the bedroom where you climb over him on the bed. Before you can drop onto your side he grabs your thighs to hold you above him.
“Thanks for not laughing at me.”
“You looked pretty cool, right up until you smashed your mouth.” You brace your hands on his chest and lean in close. “The blood really distracted me.”
“Yeah that was quite a bit.”
“Still hot.”
He grins and you can spot the missing tooth in the dark before he pulls you in by your chin to give you a kiss. When he opens his mouth to deepen it, your tongue immediately finds the new space like his had. He laughs into the kiss and sits up on his elbows to be closer. It’s a slow make out session that he has no intention of taking further, mostly delighting in you running your tongue along the inside of his mouth, probing.
“What are you laughing at?” You ask, annoyed at him huffing into your mouth.
“You keep trying to feel it with your tongue.” He grins at you in the dark, features highlighted by the light seeping in through the curtains.
“It’s a new spot in your mouth for me to tongue.” You mumble and Eddie says something about tonguing your new hole and it devolves into a slap fight that ends with you two sleepily kissing again.
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For a few weeks his tooth kicks around the house in a little ring box you had laying around. Jokingly he stuffed a scrap of ribbon in it and called it a coffin, started giving a eulogy to it every night after dinner.
“Craig had the toughest job-“
“I thought he was Neville?”
“I changed it. Craig is a working man’s name.”
“In what country?”
“Coal country.” Eddie jokingly bangs his fist on the table and continues on about Craig and his 52 family members.
Wayne comes by for dinner and sees this little atrocity and just stares at it for a good while, you and Eddie tight lipped trying to not laugh at his blank expression.
“I don’t know what to expect when I come over here, ever.” He’s not judging, in fact he’s almost too accommodating when him and Eddie disappear after dinner for a smoke on the balcony and he gives his nephew pointers on what dremel bit to use so he doesn’t crack the tooth.
“A matching necklace? Christ Eddie don’t tell me you knocked out two teeth!”
“No! I bought the ring for her, this was just a mistake.” Eddie gestures at his mouth and Wayne chuckles at him.
“Always gotta show off.”
“For her? No shit. If I don’t, she’ll realize how much better she can do.”
Wayne tilts his head and fixes Eddie with a stern look. “You know how I feel about that.”
“I’m kidding.” He tries to wave him off.
“Well I’m not. Who else is gonna bring her home a tooth on a chain?” Eddie can see how that makes Wayne shudder, even when he’s trying to be forcefully reassuring. He pats his uncle on the knee before standing and stretching.
“True. There aren’t any many of my kind left.” He says it wistfully, staring off the balcony into the dark until Wayne huffs at him to get inside and help with the dishes.
The bit dies off and the ring box ends up on your nightstand. Eddie thinks it’s a pretty romantic gesture the way you’ve given it a prime spot next to your Dracula figure. He also knows you’ll notice it missing so he takes the tooth when he gets home before you and knocks the box over and when you notice he plays dumb.
“Oh no, did you knock it over?” “No I haven’t been in your nightstand.” “Why would I take it?”
He brings it with him to work and Wayne refuses to touch it, instead standing off to the side and letting Eddie drill the minuscule hole. He texts you on his lunch and tells you he’s got some extra stuff to take care of, running late, don’t worry about dinner. He uses the extra hour to run by the antique store and buy a chain and he gets so lucky because you’re in the shower when he finally comes home.
Ring box stolen from your drawer and left oh so carelessly in the middle of the counter next to your big water cup. He doesn’t even change out of his shop clothes, just sits and waits for you to come out.
When you do, you give him a kiss in passing and then stop short in the kitchen. “Eddie?”
“Hmm?”
“What’s this?” You hold up the small red box and gently shake it at him.
“I made you something in art class today.” He says bashfully and leans over the arm of the couch to dangle his arms while you laugh at him.
“Aw, did Mr. Munson help you with your finger painting?” You pout at him and he flips you off. Your laugh cuts off when you open the box to stare at the necklace.
“Is this your tooth?”
“Yeah, I lied.” He grins at you, “I staged the crime scene.”
“You scum.” Your giggle gets him off the couch, the scrunch of your face makes him cradle your jaw, your whispered ‘thank you’ earns you a kiss and before you can fumble with the chain he’s pulling it out of your hands to loop it around your neck. He does the clasp up and smooths a hand down over the tooth.
“Oh you make that look better than I ever did.” His dimples push through his warm smile. “Almost like it was made for you.”
“God you are laying it on thick today huh?”
“I mean it, everything I am is for you.” He holds you close while you fiddle with your new jewelry. It’s so small for such a significant thing, at least to you. Especially when he starts talking like that. Eddie notices your pensive turn and pulls his head back to look down at you.
“Did I…did I read this wrong? Is it too much?” He knows he’s bad at that sometimes. He knows you like this stuff but maybe wearing a familiar tooth is a step too far. Maybe it feels like a weight around your neck instead of a thin rope of silver. It’s his turn to get quiet and he tries to pull away but you latch on around his ribs.
“This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever given me and it’s really weird and I love it a lot.” You mumble into his chest where your cheek is pressed tight. “Thank you.”
He watches you the rest of the night playing with it. Twirling your fingers through the chain and rolling the tooth around, staring down at it and once tapping it against your own teeth like you did with the ring. It gives him a new affection for you, to see you admire something he not only made you, but something that’s wholly him.
Later when he’s waiting for you in bed while you wander around and look for your phone, the intrusive thought he’d been keeping in finally breaks the surf of his mind.
“I’d knock out all my teeth for you.” He says it into the quiet and you pause at the foot of the bed to tilt your head at him.
“That’s so sweet.” You giggle quietly, the look you give him is contemplative.
“No I’m serious.” He leans up on his elbow to look you square in the eyes. “I’d hang ‘em all on a silver chain, drape them on you like pearls.” His stare gets a weight to it that makes you feel rooted to the spot. “I’d make you an altar out of them. Give them to you like little offerings.”
“You make it sound like I’m a deity you need to please.”
“Oh but you are.” He rolls up off his elbow to crawl towards the end of the bed and kneel in front of you. “Everything I do is in service to you and your good favor.” He splays a hand over his bare chest and you know he’s doing a thing but his wide eyed eagerness on his knees is doing it for you.
“And you’d hand over your teeth just for that?”
“I’d hand over my life.” He grabs your hand and presses it over his heart. “I’d leave imprints of my teeth all over you and then hand them over on a platter.”
“Why is this so hot?” You mutter at him, your body flush with heat suddenly.
“I know, keep playing along.” He whispers back, eyebrows twitching upwards. “I’m simply a vessel for your happiness and if that means sacrificing pieces of myself,” his hands settle up behind your neck to pull you down for a kiss, “then I’ll pull them all out by the root and leave them on the steps of your temple.” He keeps pulling you back until you have to catch yourself and climb over him, his lanky frame unfolding under you.
“Does that make you a patron or a priest?” You straddle his hips and break away from the kiss to stare at him, necklace dangling down against his cheek.
“I’m your most devoted follower.” He whispers in the small space between you two, eyes searching. “I’ve pledged my life to you.” His fingers dig in to your bare thighs. “Not for just a reward in the afterlife but in the hopes that you’ll grant me one look at your divine form.”
“Eddie!” You laugh at him and sit up, face and neck hot from his praise.
“What? I mean it! All of that for one…touch.” He slides his palms around to grab your ass and you laugh harder.
“That’s all you want? Just a touch?”
“Well maybe a long, continuous one.” He tries to slide his hands up further but you stop him at your hips. He looks determined to feel up your sides but your grip on his wrists holds tight.
“You wouldn’t want to anger your god now, would you?” His eyes widen at your sudden boldness. When you can tell he’ll sit still you unhand him to pull up the hem of your shirt slowly. “You give me a lifetime of servitude for a single touch?” Before you pull it over your head you give him a wicked a grin. “I’ll reward you with your single wish.”
He understands the game but his hands still twitch when you toss your shirt to the side, chest bared to him. You wiggle around until you get your underwear off, his hands still attached to you. He gets one touch and he won’t waste it, not now that you’re fully naked over him. You pull his boxers down, hands grazing sensitive skin and he pushes his head back into the pillow with a groan.
He clenches his jaw when you grind down on him, sliding over the head of his cock. His eyes rolling when you lean back and brace yourself on his thighs. You gasp with every roll of your hips and he whimpers.
“God damnit can I please touch you?” He grinds out through clenched teeth. The wet slide of your cunt has him breathing shallow and fast, the urge to buck up and fuck you settling low in the base of his spine. “C’mon, don’t I get some kind of fu-uck…” He stutters when your nails drag over his thighs. “You gotta show me some k-kind of mercy.”
“I’m already wearing a piece of you Eddie.”
His chest rises and falls, nostrils flared while he breaths heavy against his own willpower. The tattoos on his arms jump when he digs his fingers into your hips harder, an anchor he has to keep in place until you tell him he can move. “Why don’t you show me just how devoted you are?”
His first instinct, his first want, is to push you back and hold you down and make you sob about it. He’d like to hitch your legs up over his hips and make you remember the feeling of him deep inside for a few days.
But that’s not how you treat a goddess.
He slides his hands up your back with care when he sits up, his lips pressing softly into the space between your breast. He kisses up and over the necklace, warmed by your skin under it. Kisses up your neck until he has to pull your head down to meet his lips again. His fingers don’t grasp like they did a moment ago. They dance light over your skin, along the edge of your hair. They trace up under your jaw and over your cheeks, down your nose. He follows their path with his mouth, gentle kisses following gentle touch.
Your hips don’t move as rapid as they were and he uses it to his advantage. He presses up until he hears that gasp when he breaches you, soft heat clenching around his cock almost enough to set him off. He basks in the moment too long and you try to move your hips down against his but he makes a sound of protest, something in the back of his throat like a whine. “Give me a second, I’m having a moment with divinity.”
Your laugh travels through you, vibrations under his palms when you test his resolve again. Another gentle roll and he lays his face into the crook of your neck to mouth at you. Tongue running flat up the tendon on display when your head tips back and he finally buries himself fully. Your fingers wind in his hair while he snakes a hand between you, thumb finding your clit and you both groan when your movements speed up. He’s already too close, got himself all wound up in the role play but he needs you to finish first to put a nice bow on this evening.
“Y’really like it?” He pants against you.
“Of c-course I do.”
“Y’gonna wear it every day?” You nod and whine when he puts more pressure on his thumb. “Let everyone know what kind of freak you are.” You keep nodding and grinding down on him and that line of heat licks up his spine fast. “Gonna show everyone aren’t you?” He can feel your thighs trembling around his hips, knees digging in on every downward movement. “C’mon baby, wanna see it.” It takes him a lot of effort to pull his head up to watch you. Your chin tilted up, mouth hung open and panting, all for him. He can feel the tension building in you and can see the crease between your brows. The low whine that crawls out of your throat and goes on and on when he finally hits your peak.
He huffs, almost laughing at the way you break, amazed as always at the way you react to him. You sit flush against him and grind and pull his hair and his eyes roll back in his head, a line of curses spilling out of his lips that you catch with your own. He comes fast and hot, the edges of his vision going spotty while you keep his head steady and swallow all his grunts. In his foggy thoughts he can feel you run your tongue over the new space in his mouth, the feeling just foreign enough that it makes him shiver before he laughs again at your interest.
It takes a moment for you both to come down, you slouching into Eddie and making him fall back against the pillows, still out of breath.
“So I take it I’ve won your favor.” He grins up at the ceiling, running his hand over your back.
“You keep calling me a god, you can have whatever you want.” You roll on your side and nuzzle up under his outstretched arm.
“Don’t teeth have something to do with prosperity?” He snaps his fingers behind your head. “With all these new adornments, we’re gonna be swimmin’ in it baby.”
“Oh so that’s why you worship me, for my money!” You poke his side hard enough he flinches and curls around you suddenly, locking you into a hug and pinning you down on the bed. His lips brush your ear when he speaks lowly to you. “I worship you because you deserve it, the prosperity is a perk.” He keeps you close for a while until you both get too hot, sticky skin separating under cool sheets. He still has to touch you though and his foot finds yours while he reaches over to play with your necklace.
“I’m glad you’re cool with this.”
“I’m glad you’re cool with this.” You laugh. “We could have been having a much different evening otherwise.”
(Sacrifice for the read more)
1K notes · View notes
ashwhowrites · 5 months
Note
okay so this has been in my head forever but imagine cheerleader/rich popular reader and eddie are dating. reader is the daughter of a company ceo and wayne works at the company. wayne absolutely hates his boss because he’s rich and spoiled and his boss hates him because he doesn’t understand where he came from since he never grew up poor or whatever. let’s say one day reader and eddie decide to tell their parents about each other and reader invites eddie and wayne to come to her house for dinner and wayne and her dad are pissed bc they don’t want their kid/nephew associated with each other and like forbid them from being together but they eventually realize how much they mean to each other and like give them permission to date again. i feel like this would be so chaotic and funny but cute and wholesome at the same time
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
Rich girl, poor boy
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Wayne Munson was a hard-working man who didn't get credit where it was due. He started at the bottom and worked his way through every promotion. But his boss made Wayne's life hell. He kept Wayne at work later and later, giving him random tasks that weren't needed and treating him like scum. His boss was a rich old man, he was bitter and looked down on the people beneath him. Wayne was used to being the poorest man compared to others, but to be targeted because of it by his boss was his last straw. He hated that man and he hated whoever was related to him.
Wayne worked hard for himself but he also worked hard for Eddie. To provide as much as he could for his nephew. That's why he sucked it up and kept working for that twat of a boss.
~~~
"You're home very late," Eddie announced as Wayne walked through the door. The small clock above the couch read midnight as Eddie picked at the cold plate of dinner.
"Tried to wait but I was starved," Eddie said, Wayne brushed it off, heating his plate in the microwave. He waited a few seconds as it heated, grabbing a beer and taking a swig. He grabbed the warm plate and set it on the table.
"It's fine. The boss decided every car on the lot needed a tire cleaning." Wayne grumbled, stuffing his face with semi-warm food, Eddie frowned as he sat across from his uncle.
"Again? You did that last week." Eddie said he could see Wayne's body language was annoyed and exhausted.
"Didn't do good enough last time," Wayne said, rolling his eyes as he ate his first meal of the deal. Eddie watched with a heavy heart as Wayne's tired body ate as fast as he could. He knew once he finished, Wayne would go to bed and do it all over again.
"How was your day, though?" Wayne asked, he tried to keep up with Eddie's life. His parents were deadbeats and never checked up on him. Wayne wanted Eddie to have at least one parent who cared.
"Good! I took Y/N to get ice cream and we listened to new records." Eddie smiled as he recalled his day. Wayne couldn't help but smile along. Eddie had this girlfriend that he was obsessed with. She was popular and a cheerleader. Wayne almost choked on his dinner when Eddie first told him about her. He was nervous that such a popular girl was interested in Eddie, but from every story, she sounded sweet and genuine.
"When do I get to meet the unlucky girl?" Wayne joked, placing his fork on the empty plate.
"Haha," Eddie faked laughed, flipping Wayne off. "She's been asking for our families to meet, and invited us over for dinner on Friday. Think your boss will let you off at a normal time? She wants to do it around seven."
"I'll make him," Wayne promised, a pat on Eddie's head as he made his way to bed.
~~~
"I haven't worn nice clothes since you got baptized." Wayne chuckled, buttoning up his last button, then tucking his shirt into his jeans.
"I'm baptized?" Eddie laughed, also tucking his button-up into his jeans.
"Oh yeah, your mom did it for your grandma before she died. Are you ready?" Wayne asked, grabbing the keys.
~~~
"Eddie!" Y/N cheered, her arms wrapped around him as she snuggled into his neck. She soaked in his warmth for a second before she pulled away. Her eyes were on the older man next to Eddie. She smiled and brought him into a hug as well.
"Oh!" Wayne chuckled, hugging her back softly.
"Eddie talks about you all the time. Nice to see the man that inspires him." Y/N said as she pulled away. Wayne smiled back at her kindness. She had a sweet voice and a bright smile. He could easily see why Eddie fell so fast.
"Nice to meet the girl Eddie constantly talks about. I see he was right about how beautiful you are." Wayne smiled, and Y/N felt herself blush as she looked at Eddie. Her was art warm when he talked about her and believed she was beautiful.
"Well, I'll lead you to the dining room!" She said. Her black dress swayed at the bottom as she turned around. Her heels clicked on the marble floor as the boys followed behind her. Wayne tried to not let his jaw drop as he took in the huge house. The chandelier on the ceiling, the velvet furniture, the plants, and wall art. She came from money, and she came from lots of money.
Eddie was in awe of her house. He didn't think these houses were real. It looked like a scene from a movie. He knew she was rich, but he didn't know she was that rich. She didn't act spoiled, she was humble and even had a part-time job. She wasn't a snob, Eddie wouldn't have guessed she came from this much money based on how she acted.
"Daddy, this is Eddie! My boyfriend, and his uncle, Wayne!" Y/N held Eddie's hand as she introduced them to her dad. Her dad stood up from the table, his eyes settled on the younger man next to his daughter. Then they moved to the older man next to him.
"Son of a bitch." Wayne muttered to himself. Eddie quickly looked at him with confusion. Y/N looked between her dad and Wayne. Not understand why the air got so thick.
"You didn't tell me you were dating a Munson boy." Her dad sneered. Y/N didn't like the way he said Munson like it was a curse.
"Well he didn't mention he was dating a Y/L/N" Wayne growled back. Both men racing their chins higher and higher.
"Away from that boy now!" Her dad said, walking over to yank her arm. Y/N gasped as her grip lost Eddie's.
"Daddy!" She hissed, she couldn't believe his behavior. "What is the problem?"
"That man is a shame excuse of a man. He is scum at the bottom of the earth and you will not be dating no family member of his." He demanded, Y/N felt panic in her chest. Worriedly looking at Eddie.
"Sir, please just give us a chance. I'm not sure how you know Wayne, but he isn't scum! And neither am I. I love your daughter and I know I can take care of her." Eddie tried.
"Not. He works for me! I know exactly how much of a pathetic man he is. How can you take care of her when you are poor, Eddie? My baby girl doesn't belong in a tiny trailer."
"Stop it! You are being so rude." Y/N said, yanking her arm from her dad's grip. She stood productively in front of Eddie. "Eddie is a very nice boy and I love him. How much money he's got has nothing to do with anything."
"You are not dating him. That's an order."
"You can't tell me what to do! We don't need your support." Y/N snapped, her eyes angry as she stared down her dad.
"We have Wayne's and that's all we need," Eddie said, his hand reaching out to grasp hers softly.
"Eddie, you break up this relationship right now," Wayne said Eddie's eyes were huge as he turned around to look at his uncle. Shock is written all over his face.
Y/N's dad smiled as Wayne agreed. Maybe they could have this one small thing in common.
"Wayne!" Eddie exclaimed. He couldn't believe Wayne would suggest that. Y/N felt her heart crack as she turned to look at Wayne.
"Eddie, that man is evil. He is a snob, rude, and will forever look down on the people below him. I'm sure the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. You are getting out while you still can. You are not dating a spoiled brat." Wayne spat out.
"Wayne!" Eddie scolded, he couldn't believe Wayne would speak so poorly of Y/N, he barely gave her a chance. In the same way, Dad barely gave Eddie the chance.
"Wayne, please. I know my dad is a boss man but I would never look down on you or Eddie. I'm so sorry for his behavior, but please I love Eddie. Don't do this." Y/N begged. She knew her dad was a loss cause, she needed Wayne to be on their side.
"It's Mr. Munson, Eddie we are leaving. Say goodbye and meet me in the car." Wayne spat, he turned around and walked out the door.
"Break up with the boy or Wayne is fired. You will not be talked about like that. He disrespected my daughter in my house!" Her dad threatened, his arms crossed as he looked down at the couple. He ignored the pain in his daughter's eyes but enjoyed the fear in Eddie's.
"Eds." Y/N whimpered, her eyes watery as the world crashed at their feet. She didn't want to lose him.
"Y/N, I gave an order. I want him out of my house and out of your life." Her dad said before he left the room.
"What do we do?" Eddie asked
"We have to break up." Y/N choked out, her eyes watered and her throat burned.
"Baby no! We'll make your dad change his mind! I'll make him, I promise!" Eddie panicked.
"I'm sorry. That job is all you guys have. I can't be the reason he gets fired, he'll hate me even more." Y/N couldn't live with that guilt. "I'm sorry." Y/N whimpered, sobs making its way out of her mouth. She covered her cries with her hands.
"He doesn't hate you! I'll make him change his mind and give you a chance!"
"Eddie, it's me or the job. Wayne would never accept us if it cost him his job, his income, and his source to support you. But soon I'll have money saved to move out, we will graduate and we can be together. Just wait for me?" She cried.
"Yes," Eddie said with no hesitation. He'd wait years for her.
"I love you," Eddie whispered, leaning down to softly kiss her goodbye. He felt his heart sink as he tasted her salty tears.
"I love you." She whispered. She watched as he walked out the door.
Eddie tried to hold back his sobs as he got in the car. He didn't look at Wayne the whole drive. The betrayal in Eddie's heart was the worst pain he'd ever felt. Out of everyone in the world, he thought Wayne would always have his back.
The car ride was silent, a few blocks away from home when Wayne finally spoke up.
"Look, I know you-" Wayne tried
"No! You don't know. I can't believe you would talk to her that way. You disrespected my girlfriend right to her face. She has done nothing to you. It's her fucking dad! Yeah, I get that. But you did not need to treat her like that." Eddie snapped.
"Eddie, you are too young to understand. But she will turn out just like him. She'll be selfish and think she's above you. You'll thank me in the end." Wayne said.
"You don't know her. You don't know anything about her." Eddie argued. "She's nothing like him. She is sweet, kind, and would do anything for the people she loves."
Wayne laughed and shook his head. "She has you fooled." The car came to a stop as they pulled up to their trailer.
"Make sure you send her a thank you card for saving your ass from being fired." Eddie snapped as he slammed the car door. He raced into the trailer and locked himself in his room.
~~~
Y/N knew she'd never forgive her dad for what he did. She'd never forgive him for making her break it off with Eddie. She'd never forgive him for not letting her be happy. Her mom tried to make everyone civil, but dinners were silent. Y/N refused to speak or look at her dad.
"How was school?" Her mom asked, slicing her steak.
"Fine," Y/N muttered. She picked at her plate, not much of an appetite. The breakup with Eddie was the most painful thing she's ever experienced. It's been days of silence. Days of longing look from across the classroom. Days of crying in her room when all she wanted to do was be in Eddie's arms.
"Did you talk to that boy?" Her dad asked, his eyes squinting at her over his newspaper.
"No."
"Good girl."
~~~
Wayne sighed as he walked into the trailer, complete silence. It's been days of Eddie locked up in his room. He only left for school, then right back into his bedroom.
"Did you eat?" Wayne asked as he knocked on the door.
"No," Eddie said through the door.
Wayne ordered pizza, sitting on the couch as his nephew stayed locked in his room. Wayne was conflicted, he knew Eddie liked Y/N and that the breakup was hard. But Wayne couldn't help but like the relief of his boss' attitude towards him. It was like banning Eddie from seeing his daughter was a win. He let Wayne go home at normal times and didn't give random tasks.
In the end, it worked out for Wayne, but was it worth it if his nephew had to suffer?
Eddie came out when the pizza arrived. He stacked up a paper plate and went to walk back into his room.
"Can we talk for a second?" Wayne asked, Eddie sighed but sat down.
"I know you're hurting. I know these past few weeks have been hard for you. I can see my actions have hurt you. It's hard for me to admit, but I was wrong. I spent years trying to get you to smile and enjoy life. Ever since I took you in, there was this light missing in your eyes. I took you to parks, bowling, and arcades, and yet you never smiled. You grew up and still, that light wasn't there. You never enjoyed living. Then you met her. And one day, I saw that light in your eyes. I see that smile when you talk about her. I'm sorry I took that away from you, Eds." Wayne said, choking slightly as he felt tears falling down his face. "I'm so sorry. I want that light back in your eyes. I want you to have something to live for."
Eddie choked back his cries as he watched Wayne break down.
"She makes me happy, Uncle Wayne," Eddie whispered, biting his lip harshly as he felt sobs making their way into his throat.
"You have my blessing. Get her back." Wayne said, he reached out and rubbed Eddie's hand softly.
"It means a lot. But she broke it off so you could keep your job. Her dad threatened to fire you. She'll never do that to you." Eddie said, "But thank you."
Wayne watched as he got up and went back into his room.
He knew what he had to do to make it up to his nephew.
~~~
"Sir, can I come in?" Wayne asked as he knocked on his boss's door.
"Yes." His boss sat at his big desk, his hands under his chin as he waited for Wayne to speak.
"I quit," Wayne said, folding his uniform and placing it on the desk.
"Excuse me?" His boss scoffed.
"Eddie or the job, right? Your daughter and I have something in common. We both love that boy and it's time he gets picked. I pick Eddie. I'm accepting your daughter, because of the way she brightens up my boy's world. If you can't see he does the same for her, then maybe you don't love her the way you should." Wayne said, not waiting for a response as he left the office.
~~~
Eddie was doing homework in the kitchen when Wayne walked in.
"It's like three? How did you get off that early?" Eddie chuckled.
"I quit."
"WHAT?" Eddie yelled, standing up from his chair.
"He can't fire me if I don't work for him," Wayne smirked.
"But Wayne! We need the money."
"I'll get a job somewhere else. You are more important than any job. I'm sorry I stood in the way of your relationship, but now there won't be any consequences."
"Thank you." Eddie smiled, tears in his eyes as he pulled Wayne into a tight hug. Wayne smiled as a few tears left his eyes. That smile was back.
And so was she
~~~
"CHEATER!" Y/N screamed, her accusing fingers pointed to Eddie as he tried to tuck cards under his plate.
"AM NOT!" he yelled back. His hand crumbled up another card he tried to hide. His girlfriend's eyes were watching his every move.
"WAYNE!" she yelled, the older man got off the couch and walked to the table. The board game is on the table, dice everywhere, and a mess of cards.
"Check his hand." She said a smile on her face. She knew Eddie was about to be caught.
"Wayne! Who are you gonna believe? Me or her?" Eddie gasped
"Your girlfriend." Wayne laughed, easily tackling Eddie to the floor as he tried to get the card out of his hand.
"GOT IT!" Wayne cheered, snatching the crumbled card. He held out his hand and yanked Eddie to his feet. Then placed the card in Y/N's hand.
"I knew it!" She said, slamming down the card she needed to win.
"Thank you, Uncle Wayne." She laughed as she high-fived him.
"He always cheats," Wayne whispered, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. "Now I'm off to bed. Try not to be too loud. Big day tomorrow!"
"Good luck at the job interview," Y/N said, Wayne thanked her as he shut his bedroom door.
He smiled as he crawled into bed, the sound of Eddie's laughter and Y/N's screams filled the trailer.
Now the sound of that was worth quitting a job for.
505 notes · View notes
ohmytyong · 1 year
Text
douceur
⤹ now playing: k. by cigarettes after sex
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PAIRING: boyfriend!jaehyun x female!reader
GENRE: smut (minors dni!!), fluff
WARNINGS: explicit language, alcohol consumption, pet names (kitten, honey, baby), short appearance of roommate!jungwoo, explicit sexual content; thigh riding, slight voyeurism (?), praise, suggestive scene of oral (m receiving)
not proofread, let me know if i missed any!
WC: 2k
A/N: this was sitting completely forgotten in my drafts. the first wip wasn't meant to include smut but oh well. anyway, perfume jaehyun has a very strong effect on me, so here's a little present from me to you
* .♡ *:・゚✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆
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the glugging sound of the deep red liquid pouring into the tall thin glass echoed in the silent room. soft breaths were coming in and out of your nose as you watched your boyfriend jaehyun placing the glass on the counter top and taking the other empty one to pour some wine in it too.
you were sitting cross-legged on the sofa of jaehyun's dim-lit apartment, your body angled towards him and your back turned against the window looking down on the busy city streets. even though it was just a bit past midnight, the whole city was lit up as if it was new year's eve.
you and your boyfriend jaehyun had just got back to his apartment after your date to the movies. the streets were lively, the sky was gleaming, the mood was dazzling, yet the night was chilling, so you and jaehyun decided to take your date back to his apartment. before you could even think about arguing, jaehyun reassured you that he would lend you his clothes as nightwear, as always, and that he had also bought those baby wipes that remove your makeup. that's what he called them.
jaehyun placed the bottle of wine on the counter, grabbed the two half-full glasses he just filled with the red liquid and headed towards the couch where you were sitting. he sat down with a huff and handed you one of the glasses.
you smiled before your glasses met with a clink and then the two of you took a small sip of the alcoholic substance that filled the inside of the glass. "let's put on some music, go and pick something kitten" jaehyun motioned you to the shelf next to the tv set where he stored his vinyls.
you squirmed excitedly and placed you glass on the coffee table in front of you before you got up. jaehyun playfully patted your butt as you got up from the sofa and waited to see which vinyl you would pick. you had been through his vinyl collection many times before, but you knew exactly what you were looking for.
you fingers brushed softly against the spines of the vinyl covers, rummaging through them until you found the so familiar cover you always chose.
you took the black and white cigarettes after sex vinyl out of the shelf and went over to jaehyun's record player to put it on. jaehyun rolled his eyes at the sight of it. "out of so many different vinyls, you always pick this one. "we're having a good time honey, why the sad music?" jaehyun asked you in a way to make you change your mind, but your actions were quicker than his words as the vinyl had already started playing.
you sat back down on the sofa and leaned to the coffee table to grab your wine glass. "don't act like it's not one of your favorites either. and i don't care if it's sad, it sounds so calming and beautiful" you defended yourself and jaehyun couldn't do anything else but laugh.
you started swaying along the soothing sound of the music, taking in your surroundings. you had been in jaehyun's apartment many times before, it also felt like your apartment too. it radiated warmth, serenity, and a kind of comfort you only felt when you were wrapped in his arms.
you unconsciously started humming along to the tune that filled in the silence that previously occupied the living room, slightly swaying your body along to the soft melody. jaehyun noticed that and smiled to himself, thinking  how lucky he was to have you in his life, thinking how much he loved you.
without even looking at him, you noticed his eyes trained and you and turned your head towards him. you instantly returned his smile at the sight of his almost beaming face. "what are you smiling at? come on, let's dance" you urged him and took his hand to drag him from the sofa onto his feet.
jaehyun sighed at your actions, but he only did it because he knew it irritated you. deep down, he had been waiting for you to do this ever since the song started playing. 
the two of you stood in the center of the living room, jaehyun's arms wrapped around your waist and your arms stretching up to reach the back of his neck. as if somebody casted a spell upon you, your bodies became one and with the cue of your feet, the two of you started swaying to the soothing sound.
you rested your head on top of jaehyun's chest, your ear sitting at the exact spot that allowed you to listen to his heartbeat. at this action of yours, jaehyun moved one of his arms from your waist to caress the back of your head. you felt calm. at ease. this is the place you always wanted to be at. the only place you only wanted to be at.
this beautiful moment between the two of you was suddenly interrupted by the jingling sound of keys and the banding of the front door opening, revealing the tall slender figure of a rushing jungwoo. you and jaehyun practically jumped out of your reverie at the abrupt emergence of the loud sound.
with quick and almost nervous movements, jungwoo kicked the door shut behind him and placed the keys on top of the kitchen counter before he went on to take off his shoes. he flashed you a bright smile that spread across his entire face and spoke up in a soft yet cheerful voice. "hey guys, sorry to ruin the mood, i'll be out of your feet in a minute. i'll stay in my room, don't bother about me. have a good time!" he said and hurried to his room.
you and jaehyun looked at each other and bursted out laughing at jungwoo's straight-to-the-point comment. he was actually true to his word; he sweeped his feet on the floor on his way to his bedroom and without even turning his body, he closed the door with a thud behind him.
jaehyun sighed after his laughter slowly faded and pulled away from you and went to sit on the couch. you immediately felt empty without his touch and you instatly found your body gravitating towards his, aching to be touched again.
but this touch you were aching for was tranferred in the spot right between your legs. you wanted jaehyun. you needed him. and you needed him right then and there.
without thinking, you shifted your body in a way that allowed your thighs to meet closer in order to give your aching area some kind of friction. you could already feel your panties getting wet, and the sight of jaehyun sitting in front you on the sofa with his upper body leaning back and his legs spread made your aching sensation even worse.
jaehyun looked at you and patted his hand on his thigh, signaling you to go towards him. you didn't need to be told much at that moment. you practically hurried to his lap and straddled him, putting your legs on each side of his thighs.
jaehyun rested both of his hands at the back of your thighs and gently pushed you closer to him. you pulled him in for a passionate kiss and he responded to your touch in an instant, deepenign the kiss even more than you initially wanted.
jaehyun kissed you slowly yet roughly and full of hunger. he was eager to taste more of you and he was as desperate for you as you were for him. his grip on your thighs tightened and you felt your pussy clench around nothing, longing to be touched.
you shifted the weight of body so that your thighs were pressing with more force on jaehyun, which only made you even more wet as you felt his growing hard length through his pants. an uncontrollable whimper left your lips into jaehyun's mouth and he smirked during the kiss at that sound.
without breaking the kiss, jaehyun spoke. "what is it kitten? something wrong down there?" his voice was muffled and bore a suggestive tone. your response was again another broken whimper and jaehyun chuckled at your already undone state.
you shluggishly started rocking your hips against jaehyun's clothed length in order to somehow relieve yourself from the almost painful sensation between your legs. jaehyun noticed your eagerness and with steardy hands, he lifted your hips and moved your body so that you sat on top of his thigh.
"there we go. this is much better kitten, isn't it?" jaehyun spoke with a low raspy voice. "now go ahead. help yourself honey, i'll watch" he said and you could swear you could feel your wetness drip down you leg.
you didn't need jaehyun's words to get you going though. you were moving your hips along his thigh, pressing onto it so that you could get as much friction as possible through the fabric of both your pants and his. you were too impatient to take them off, you just begun riding your boyfriend's thigh, gripping onto his shoulders to support your body from completely falling apart.
all this time jaehyun had his gaze fixated on you, his eyes darting from your face, to the spot your aching core met his thigh, and then back to your face. the expression of pleasure on your face and the breathy moans that left your lips had jaehyun reaching between his legs, cupping his dick outside his pants.
a low squeak escaped your lips as you were coming closer to your climax and jaehyun quickly moved his free hand to cover your mouth. "shhh, baby, you don't want jungwoo to come out of his room and see you like this" he whispered and you closed your eyes shut, muffled moans leaving your mouth into jaehyun's hand. 
you felt you climax almost there. the movements of yous hips became faster and sloppier in an attempt to reach your high. jaehyun sensed it too and he flexed his thigh bone, which gave you a harder surface to grind on, finally reaching your climax. you buried your head into his shoulder, your body trembling at the relief of all this tension. jaehyun moved your hair away from your face and placed a tender kiss on your cheek. "you did great, baby. you were amazing" he praised you and you don't know how it was possible for your panties to get even more soaked than they already were.
you stayed like this for a moment to catch your breath and slowly lifted your head to meet jaehyun's eyes and kiss him. the kiss didn't last long though, as you heard jaehyun undoing his zipper and try to remove his pants. you grabbed his arm and stopped his movements before he could go any further.
"uh uh, what are you doing?" you asked him, teasingly.
jaehyun scoffed in desperation. "i mean, you gotta help me out on this one kitten," he said.
you got up from his lap and dropped down on your knees in front of him, right between his legs. you moved your hands at the waistband of his pants and with painfully slow movements you pulled them down to his ankles, dragging his underwear too at the same time, revealing his hard length already leaking with precum.
you leaned your upper body closer to him, taking his dick into your hand. you ran your thumb with a circling motion along his glistening tip, spreading some of his leaking cum across the sensitive area, which earned a low hiss from the male.
you brought his dick closer to your mouth, your lips barely touching his lenght. you looked up at jaehyun with an innocent puppy-eye look before you whispered right on top of the tip of his aching cock.
"let me handle this, babe"
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* .♡ *:・゚✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆
TAGS: @matchahyuck @peachjaem00 @hyuckieslove @bbyyhyuck @vdollys @positionslab @renjun-fairy @back2jisung @xxxx-23nct @doieslefttoe @uwuheeseungie
join my taglist here !!
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spamgyu · 1 month
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hell n back // vernon drabble
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it was rare for him to have a day off, even rare for it to fall on the same as yours.
the two of you had decided that the best way to make use of this once in blue moon event was to lounge about in your shared apartment – enjoying one another's company before he is forced to go back to his tireless schedule.
you watched as your boyfriend fiddled with the sound system at the corner of the living room – mumbling something about wanting to play you his new favorite song. you always did admire his love for music, the two of you using this shared interest to naturally govern most of your conversations.
there was evidence of this throughout your apartment; the main one being a wall of vinyl record covers from both past and present hip-hop artists you two enjoyed listening to. right below this display was a large mid-century modern wooden console; holding your boyfriend's prized possessions.
a turn table and radio system.
it wasn't long before the sound of the artist whistling blared through the speakers; vernon turning to you with a large grin on his face.
"come here." he held his hand out for you to take.
laughing, you set your phone down to accept his offer – allowing for him to take lead and sway along with the beat.
"could you tell where my head was at when you found me? me and you went to hell and back just to find peace" he sang along with the artist, bouncing to the trumpet that played. "the lyrics– it reminds me of us."
you listened closely to the words being played, allowing it to transport you back in time to when you had first met him. both of you weren't at your lowest, but you two were definitely not at your best – simply cruising through life with the intent to survive.
before him, you had gone through a list of men who had broken your heart – giving up on love itself.
and he was the same.
people did say that the best kind of love was found when you weren't searching for it – scoffing at the idea until you met him.
it came so naturally; meeting vernon had possibly been one of the best things to happen to your life and he could say the same.
he had no intentions of starting a relationship when he had been introduced to you through a mutual friend, but by the end of the night, vernon couldn't get enough.
hell, half way through hearing you rant talk about pharrell's influence in the music industry – he had been sold.
vernon wasn't the type to ask someone on a date the same day he had met them; it was as if you had put him under a spell and he hadn't been able to shake it off since.
if soulmates were real, vernon had found his – you.
"oh, but I'm here now baby. no life been lifin' lately, so I save you if you save me. i was over love, I had enough, then I found you." now it was your turn to sing along, catching him by surprise.
"so you know the song?" he gasped.
"i was the one that showed it to you." you laughed.
"hm..." his bottom lip jutted out, as he tried to sift through his memories.
"four months ago– i sent it to you."
he was overseas at the time, attending some award show; if you recalled correctly.
"baby give this song a listen [spotify link]"
halting your movements, vernon slapped his hand on his forehead – he remembers. "ah shit..."
"it's okay." you shrugged, walking over to the couch as the song wrapped up.
"brain fog has been so bad lately." he sighed, plopping down next to you. "i hate it."
with his nonstop work schedule, it was no surprise that he had seemed to be forgetting quite a few things – but you paid no mind to it. it came with the title of being the girlfriend of one of the members of one of the most popular k-pop group.
it was minor details anyways, and he's human after all.
"do you at least remember me?" you teased.
squinting, vernon played along with the bit – tilting his head to the side. "looking like my future girlfriend."
you pursed your lips. "that's crazy, because i'm taken."
"leave him." vernon leaned closer.
"nah," you shook your head before leaning in as well, allowing for your lips to brush against his briefly. "he's a catch."
"doubt it." vernon snorted.
"he is! he's got this stupid smile, always tells the dumbest jokes, makes the best burnt grilled cheese–" you listed.
"ah! you said you liked it crispy!" he cried, earning a laugh from you.
"that's called softening the blow."
"can't catch a fucking break." he groaned, slouching in his position.
to anyone, this sense of domestication would be boring, but such mundane acts couldn't help but warm your heart.
he wasn't the performer you would watch from your seat, the guy who you watched on your phone screen – he was your boyfriend, the man who you swore you would spend the rest of your life with.
he was a silly boy, making silly jokes – letting you in on the personality that he hid away from many.
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PERMANENT TAGLIST
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taintandviolent · 1 year
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Ouija Board (Tate Langdon x Reader)
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Summary: You have a sleepover at your new house, and your friend decides to bring out your Ouija board. But, you’re all teenage girls, so the questions are completely unhinged and un-serious. But, the ghost you’re talking to takes full advantage of the situation. It’s a perfect opportunity, he’s been watching for you weeks. You’re living in his room, afterall.
warnings: 2.9k words -- self insert! female receiving. shameless smut. post-death Tate, ghost sex, cunnilingus, handjob, rough sex, unprotected sex, mention of ghosts/death.
Ao3 link here! Full fic below the cut! 18+.
tagged: @zabelcolin @kaismanwich @elsamars @thewolveswithin @marylovesevanpeters @80strashbag @r-3tro​ @twinkiemaximoff​ @milkovich-misfit {dm/ask to be added!}
It was the third week in the new house.
It was the first time that you actually felt at home. Somehow, you’d managed to make two friends from school, which was equally as shocking to you as it was to your parents. In previous schools, you’d always been on the outskirts, bored stiff at the idea of socialising. When you’d announced to your dad at dinner that you’d actually braved the choppy shores of friendship, he’d nearly choked on his coffee.
“That’s wonderful! Why don’t you invite them over for dinner tonight?” Your mom asked, setting her mug down on the table. You rocked your foot back and forth, mulling over the idea. Previously, your days off from school had been spent unpacking and checking around corners, listening to the creaking and whining of an old house.
Your mother was delighted with its age, commenting on the Tiffany glass and wood — but you felt things that had rotted underneath the wood. Things that whispered when your back was turned, or lingered in the kitchen when you went for a glass of water in the middle of the night.
“Okay, sure.”  
So that night, instead of flicking the light switch off in your bathroom and making a beeline for your bedroom, you sat on the floor with Jessica, Angie, a dish of pizza rolls and three glasses of grape soda.
You swallowed the mouthful, and nodded. “No, I’m serious. This house is weird. The first week I was here, in the kitchen… I saw a blonde lady with a hole in the back of her head.”
Jessica snapped the book she was leafing through, and turned. “I bet she was murdered. Don’t you have an Ouija board?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, pointing towards the bookcase. “Never used it, though.”
“You’re going to. This is much more fun than going to Town Hall and asking for records on previous owners. Sometimes, they don’t include death certificates — which is obviously what everyone is interested in. That’s the good stuff.” It took all of three minutes for Jessica to set it up. In unison, the three of you delicately placed two fingers on the planchette.
“Okay… so, what do we ask?”
You chewed on the inside of your lip, thinking.
“Is there anyone here with us?” You blurted out.
The planchette skidded to life, circling in the middle of the board. You’d seen it happen in movies, but the actual sensation was an unsettling one. YES. You all exchanged looks, searching for any guilty expressions — but it seemed that none of you had opted to play any tricks. The planchette had moved by itself.
“Did you die here?” Angie asked.
YES.
Jessica gasped. “Ooooh, what if it’s a cute ghost boy like in Casper? Can I keep you?”  
Completely enrapt with the idea, she turned her attention to the board, and asked, “Is the spirit in this room male?”
YES.
“Well, that rules out Miss Hole in her Head.” You cleared your throat, focusing on the printed letters. “Have you been the one in my room every night?”
“The one in your room every night?!” Jessica hissed, shooting a pointed look at you. You shrugged apologetically. Angie, who was visibly uneasy with the entire idea, almost fell backwards when the spirit answered.
YES.
“Oh my god!?” Jessica hung her head between her arms, laughing. “It’s probably some old grandpa with a shrimp dick, let’s be real here.”
“Bet. I’ll find out. Do you have a big dick, Mr. Ghost?” You asked.
Again, the planchette zipped to YES. Whoever he was, he didn’t hesitate. Cute. The three of you howled, laughing at the ridiculousness of the question. Angie desperately tried to redirect the conversation by asking the ghost what it wanted. The planchette spelled out HER.
Jessica lifted her fingers, and Angie screeched at her to return them. “If you don’t say goodbye, the spirit will have an open invitation to come into you!”
“To come!?” Jessica mocked. “To come into me?! Oh, the horror — don’t come into me! Pull out first, Ghost.”
Angie scowled. “You’re so gross.”
As they bickered, you stared at the planchette. It was still active, despite Angie and Jessica’s attention being pulled away. It quivered back and forth, as though it was shaking nervously.  
Once Jessica’s wandering mind had been reigned back in, the three of you managed a few more more questions; some about murder, some about occult, and some about other ghosts in the house. Eventually, the sun disappeared from your window, plunging your room into darkness, and your mother called the three of you down to eat. Your friends stayed for about an hour after dinner, and they’d seemingly forgotten about the Ouija board. You hadn’t, though. You leaned your back against the door, the coldness of the glass piercing through your cotton shirt. Your eyes trailed up the staircase, following the bend of the bannister as it curved to the left. Before you made your way upstairs to ready yourself for bed, you craned your neck down the hall, trying to listen for the whispers.
~
You sat upright in your bed, gasping for air. The book clutched in your hand fell to the floor with a thud. You hadn’t even really remembered falling asleep, but the creak of your floorboards had woken you up. You were met with nothing but the silence and glittering darkness of the room while your eyes adjusted. Eventually, the speckles turned into furniture pieces; your dresser, your mirror, your bookcase… everything seemed in order. The clock on your bedside table incessantly blinked 2:34 AM.
Something skidded across the floor, a spinning blur of tan and black. You yelped, throwing yourself up against your headboard. Your room was silent save for that sound of something hard scooting against a flat surface. You took a deep breath, and crept forward gingerly, wincing each time your mattress creaked.
You gripped the edge of your bed frame tightly, knuckles paling. You peered over. In the middle of the floor where you’d been sitting earlier, the Ouija board was laid out. The planchette swept across the board as it had earlier, but this time with no hands to guide it. It zipped across the board aggressively, as though it was trying to get your attention.
“Hello?”
The triangle paused, then slowly drifted to hello.
Dumbfounded, your mouth opened and closed. You were at a loss — because no horror movie had ever given you any idea how to politely hold a conversation with a spirit outside of the traditional setting.
“Um…. can I… help you? Are you here to possess me?”
Stupid. That was stupid.
Watching as the planchette swept across the board, you read the letters allowed.
“L…A…Y…. Lay? Lay. Okay. B…A…C…K? Lay back?” You waited for further confirmation, but the planchette stayed still for a moment.
It started spinning again, quickly spelling out a final instruction. “Close my eyes. Lay back and close my…. eyes.”
You heaved a sigh, and against your better judgement, you did. You shimmied back underneath the covers, pulling them up to your chest, and waited. The seconds were excruciating, and you were sure some horror movie had to have started like this.  
The duvet rustled at the bottom of the bed, and all at once, a gust of cold air hit your feet. The mattress gave to the weight of someone, and you yelped at the feeling of clothed shoulders nestling in between your thighs.
A broad hand ghosted across your stomach, fiddling the scalloped edge of your pyjama shorts. It swooped into your inner thigh, then circled down along your knee. Though the actions were soft, you couldn’t help but feel the knot forming in your stomach. Letting out a soft whimper, you bit your lip, clamping down hard. One hand slid up, caressing the curve of your ribs. You writhed. “You’re driving me insane…” you whispered harshly. Had you really been that touch starved? 
Lips hovered over your inner thigh, the hot breath washing over the warm skin. A single finger ran along the inside, trailing further and further up. He slowed as he neared you, wordlessly asking for permission. 
“Please,” you begged, doing everything you could not to scoot your hips down into him and embarrass yourself any further. “Please…” 
He continued. The pad of his finger floated over you, stroking, teasing until the wetness soaked through the threads. The hands disappeared, but only to return to the sides, where they gripped the waistband, tugging them softly off your hips.
You took a deep breath and immediately clamped your hand over your mouth, muffling the shrill whine that tried to escape. Whoever he was, lapped at your cunt like it was a melting ice cream cone, and it didn’t take long for it to start weeping, soaking the green sheets beneath you.
Your chest rose and fell quickly, and your eyelids fluttered, overwhelmed with the sensation. Everything was white and on fire. Your thighs trembled deep within the muscle with every flick of his tongue. Were you really getting eaten out by a ghost? Was that actually happening? You felt silly acknowledging that. His tongue flattened out against your clit and you let out a whine, erasing every other thought. He pressed his face deeper into your wet folds, tongue flicking at the underside of your clit.
“Fffffuck, oh my god.”
You had to know. You swallowed, and tightened your lips into a thin line. You were ready for whatever horrifying visual would meet you. With one final surge of courage, you flipped the covers up, opened your eyes and gazed into the tented darkness. A head of soft, blonde curls bobbed softly between your legs.
“HELLO?!” It wasn’t a greeting, but the boy lifted his head from your cunt. Two dark eyes glimmered at you from beneath the duvet.
“Hey,” he said, chin glistening. “I’m Tate. I used to live here.”
“You’re so…. cute?”
He smiled crookedly, the dimples in his cheek deepening. “Were you expecting Freddy Krueger or something?”
Your head fell back on the pillow like an anvil and a breathy laugh broke your pants. “Yeah, maybe. Jesus Christ…. I don’t know. I’ve never had a ghost between my legs.”
“You liked it. You’re so wet.” He was pleased with himself, you could tell. Reaching one finger up to stroke your opening, he angled his head to watch the way you clenched and squirmed at his touch.
“Was I… were you the one I was talking to with my friends?” He nodded. He shifted his weight, manoeuvring himself up until he was above you, supporting himself with hands on either side of your neck.
“I’ve been watching you since you moved in, Y/N… I didn’t want to scare you away.” He confessed, searching your face. “I’ve wanted you for weeks.”  
You were scrambling to keep your thoughts in one manageable bundle. On one hand, this scenario was insane and you were sick to be enjoying it. On the other… sure, he was dead, but he was easily one of the cutest boys you’d ever seen and the way he wanted you was intoxicating. His dark eyes darted from your lips to your eyes, wordlessly asking for permission. You craned your neck up to meet him, pressing into his plush, pink lips.
You’d never been one of those boy crazy teenagers, but you understood the cathartic release that sex brought. It was carnal and natural. You’d only ever slept with one other person, so the hunger was never sated, and you were left quietly fingering yourself after your parents fell asleep. Every time you’d had the chance to have made out with someone though, you tasted them. Deeply. Kissing someone released their scent, the one that only intimate partners got. And none of them had ever been as heady and addictive as Tate was. You tilted your head to get further into his waiting mouth, swirling your tongue with his. You whimpered, sending a moan down his throat.
You reached under, sliding your hands down his stomach. The tiniest trail of hair guided you to the waistband of his jeans, where you made quick work of the buttons. Breaking the kiss only to help with scooting his jeans over the curve of his ass, Tate quickly returned his lips against yours, his tongue moving past your lips eagerly.
Although you were going in blind, it wasn’t difficult to find his cock. Not only did it take up most of the space between you two, but it was hot to the touch, the heat radiating from beneath the thin fabric of his boxers. You pressed your hand against him, getting an idea for the length.
“Huh. So, you weren’t lying about that.” Tate’s hips ground against your palm in response. You reached up, flipping the elastic down so you could slip your hand in, dragging your fingers along the soft tip. Your palm was immediately slick with his precum; the thick fluid coated the soft skin. You used your thumb to smear some of it to the underside of the head, teasing at the ridges. He groaned, burying his face into your neck.
“I didn’t lie about anything you asked me.”
You began stroking him underneath the sheets in slow, full movements and Tate’s breathing hitched, hips bucking forward involuntarily. You sped up, feeling warm droplets dribble onto your exposed tummy. Your thumb pressed into the squishy flesh of his head, not expecting the reaction that followed.
“Mm-uh—please. Please, I want you. Please.” He was begging, whining, and his big brown eyes were filled with a pathetic yearning that made your walls soak even further.
“So do it.”
He wasted no time in completing your demand. He sat up, the covers falling off his back.Tate gripped himself, giving his cock a few pumps before he lined himself up, pressing his hot, leaking tip into your entrance. Snatching the opportunity from him, you bucked your hips up to his, forcing his cock inside. You clenched around him hungrily and Tate let out a throaty whine as he pushed the remaining length into you.
He started out slow, taking his time as he slid in and out of you, but the slick pull of your walls each time he slid out unravelled his concentration. Each thrust seemed a little more desperate than the last, his balls slapping against you, splashing the mixture of his spit and your cum against your inner thighs. Bottoming out inside of you, he arched his neck backwards, letting it hang heavy. “Are you a virgin?”
“Wha — no.” You breathed, adjusting your head on the pillow to look at him. Odd question to ask in the middle of the deed. “Why?”
Tate swallowed, and between pants, said, “Because…. you’re so wet.” He dropped forward, pressing his forehead against yours. His cock was still inside, the girth hitting you at a new angle, and the fullness made your stomach clench.
“I’m going to fuck you hard, okay? Tell me if I’m hurting you. I don’t want to hurt you.”
You nodded fervidly, and slithered your hands underneath his sweat-soaked shirt until it gathered. Tate lifted his arms, and allowed you to slip the shirt over them. You tossed it towards the edge of the bed, and raked your nails along his naked chest.
“Please.” It was your turn to beg. Tate backed his hips out, pulling himself from your warmth. “I want it.”
He dropped back down to his hands, getting a tight grip on the mattress behind you. His lips met yours again, hungrily. It provided only a momentary distraction, because the second that Tate started pounding into you, you could focus on nothing else — except suppressing your aroused screams. He scooted closer to you on the bed, angling himself to get deeper.
He was hitting every spot he could, and your breaths quickened as he fucked you closer to the edge. You bit down on your lip, squeezing your eyes shut. He had just started, and you were already about to lose it.
“Are you gonna’ cum? Huh?” Tate asked, now struggling to keep his rhythm. If you were close, he seemed to be closer — and you didn’t feel so bad. Tate reached down, pulling himself out to slide the tip of his cock over your clit a few times before stuffing it back in. Your lips parted in a soundless scream as you felt the unmistakable warmth filling you, the quivering in your legs, and the desperate, spasming arch of your back.
“Fuck, fuck,” Tate chanted, feeling your orgasm as it gripped him in a wet, pulsing chokehold. “Fuck!”
As he spilled into you, Tate fell atop of your body, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours. His hips were on autopilot, erratically bucking with each gush. You winced, on the verge of overstimulation. Gradually, his thrusts slowed.  
He flopped over on the side of you, one hand stroking the outside of your thigh delicately. He was gazing at you dreamily when you turned to face him.
“So, do I have to bring out the Ouija board each time I want to see you?”
Tate propped his head up on his hand. “You want to see me again?”
You rolled your eyes to the ceiling, a taunting smile curling around your swollen lips. “Uhhh… yeah.”
“I can be here every night if you want.” He purred.
“Haven’t you been anyway? Or did you lie about that?”
Tate’s brows pulled upwards, looking hurt. “I told you — I didn’t lie about anything! I’d never lie to you!”
“Okay, shh —“ You silenced him with your lips. “I’ll be right back. I have to pee.”
For the first time since you’d moved in, you weren’t afraid of ghosts as you walked to the bathroom. You were just afraid that the one in your bedroom would be gone when you got back.
He wasn’t, though.
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wutheringcaterpillar · 4 months
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A Bump In The Night: Part 2
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find part 1 here Summary: With Arthur overhearing the events from last night, knowing he couldn’t go to Tommy about it, he goes to someone else. Meanwhile you return to school where you meet a new student who has close ties with someone in the family.
warnings: jealousy, incest, sister!reader, talks of arranged relationship/marriage, age gap (Reader is 18)
taglist: @calmingmelody96 @sunflower-tia
The following morning the sun rose quaintly on the horizon, peering in through the curtains delicately waking Tommy from his slumber.
There you were, resting, soundly asleep contently in his arms. He hummed and smiled to himself, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek before rolling out of bed.
Pol was standing in the kitchen, arms crossed with one eyebrow raised, not even attempting to hide her disapproval. Arthur excused himself, saying he was grabbing the post, though it was already laying out blatantly clear on the table.
“Morning Pol. What did I do to upset you now?” He pulled down a mug from the cabinet, filling the glass with just the hot kettle of tea that was steaming and whistling atop the stove.
“You know damn well what you’ve done!” She spoke with a quiet grit, careful not to wake you before smacking Tommy with the rolled up paper. 
She scoffed, her hair flipping on either sides of her head from the anger and outrage she was feeling.
“What in the hell were you thinking! She’s young and I will not let you ruin her life!” He huffed, turning to face his prodding aunt with an annoyed gaze.
He glanced out the window, thinking about how Arthur’s room was right next to his, connecting the dots. His body tensed, lips curling into a sarcastic, devilish smile as he approached Polly, slamming his coffee on the table. Speaking in a threatening, low voice, he pointed his finger degradingly at your aunt, his sapphire eyes boiling with rage.
“What I decide to do with my cock is none of your business or Arthur’s. I’ve always loved her and you know that more than anyone I’d never hurt her Pol, but I solemnly swear if you mention this to her and break her heart in any way, we will have words.” Polly was taken aback by Tommy’s tone but held her ground, not allowing him to influence her decision. Taking his jacket from the coat rack, he opened the door, lighting a cigarette and stopping mid-stride.
“Oh, and Pol? If you bring up this little conversation I will hide the money and withold your cut. May I need not remind you I also know where Mr. Gold lives and there are a lot of people aside from myself that want him dead. With that being said, maybe compromise a little, eh?” Polly’s nose was flaring, she knew her nephew inside and out, Tommy would go to that extent to keep his precious little angel all too himself, so she’d have to combat and end this little romance another way.
Waking up from your deep sleep, the events of last night captured your mind, replaying over and over like a broken record you didn’t want to fix. 
Under the sheets forbiddingly with such a crazed lust. His cozy legs intertwined with yours, the incomprehensible, profound desire just before Tommy had taken you as his own. Those baby blue eyes so sincere yet filled with a sense of animalistic hunger. The way his cock stretch your tight hole, his cum filling you to the brim like a water ballon bursting within your heat. He was so caring, so careful, so mesmerizing, your skin was forming goosebumps as you reminisced the previous night.
Yawning and stretching you turned to the side only to realize Tommy wasn’t there but he had left a note.
“Left for a business meeting Pol made you breakfast, please be sure to eat, I’ll be home later in the evening and Ada will take you to your classes. Until tonight my darling.” Next to the note he had two pills set out in case you were in any pain. You took them knowing if they were still sitting there when Tommy came home he’d be upset.
Walking to your room, ensuring the coast was clear, you carried Tommy’s nightshirt into your room, tucking the thin, delicate fabric beneath your pillow before getting dressed for the day.
Pol and Arthur were sat at the kitchen table, both seeming to be in deep thought and conversation, stopping once you entered the room.
They’d never done that before, but you brushed it off. “How’d you sleep dear?” 
Polly looked at you with skepticism, wanting to know if you’d tell her the truth or if your allegiance still stood grounded with Tommy.
“I slept alright, and you?” She hummed to herself, motioning for Arthur to leave the room, maybe she’d get it out of you if it was a private conversation or perhaps turning the conversation into a minor detour.
“I was talking with Arthur. Lizzie has a cousin who is looking for a wife. I want you to attend on a date with him.” All of a sudden it seemed you forgot how to swallow, nearly choking on your food from her statement.
Before you could answer Ada walked through the door, saving you the trouble and disregarding your aunt. She claimed she would bring this up later, perhaps at a better time and not to inform Tommy of this conversation.
Being the older sister she was, Ada prodded along the drive to your school, inquiring about what had Pol’s panties in a twist. You didn’t have much to answer for as she chatted along, chattering along with possible conclusions, that she believed herself to be true. None of them involving you, some of Tommy since he was known to get under her skin at times but surely it would blow over.
It was your first day of senior year, classes were all over the place, and new students roaming the halls with their unfamiliar faces. Due to holding the Shelby last name it was awfully difficult for you to make friends without your family members scaring them off, or the “rumors” of what they’ve done to people. Your mind was preoccupied nevertheless with an impending hurricane of emotions, wanting nothing more than to just be in your brother’s bed once more in a way a sister never should.
Taking your seat, the bell chimed along, and for the first time in your schooling history a person sat beside you, willingly. 
The hand of another man flexing outward as a greeting. “Hi, my names James. You’re Y/N, aren’t you? My sister brings you up all the time, thinking we’d be a good fit. I suppose we have a date together later this week.” You were taken aback, not expecting the soft shade of brown eyes, and plump lips curling into an exemplary smile that would make any girl’s heart skip a beat. Shaking yourself away from your thoughts, you extended your hand. Why did this feel like a business deal moreso than a greeting? 
“Ye-yeah. I’m her.” As the day stumbled on, James had many classes with you, staying seated next to you each and every time. He was kind, polite, charming, but your mind was still flustered from your brother, and you knew what he’d think about this, surely scaring him away as he did the rest. He was quite attractive but the only man you had interest in, that should be off limits was outside waiting for you with the car.
Your eyes beamed in the sunlight like a school girl in love, and Tommy attempted to hold back his smile. He had a reputation to maintain after all, but that smile quickly faded when your papers fell from your bag, and another man began to assist you in cleaning up the mess. “Oh, oh you don’t have to do that James I-“
“No, no it’s quite alright, wouldn’t want you to lose your homework. I’ve heard how your family is.” Well what was that supposed to be mean? How would he know anything about your family? Probably Lizzie since she likes to eavesdrop and act like she’s a Shelby. You had always held a profound jealousy for her whenever Tommy gave her attention even though it was to distract his heart from what he really wanted, but it still hurt you. 
Glancing at your brother, his shoulders were stiff, hands folded in front of him as he examined the scene displayed before him, analyzing who this mysterious boy was. But maybe he needed to know how you felt numerous times. The jealousy, the anger, the need to posess.
A strong breeze blew through the atmosphere, but James had caught your last paper just in time. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
“Anytime.” His eyes scanned yours before in a bold move, he brushed a wild strand of hair behind your ear, his hand running down your cheek as he took in your beauty on the school steps.
“You have a natural, beautiful glow did you know that?” Your lips pressed together in a fine line as you held back from blushing right then and there. But before you could respond, Tommy was right beside you in an instant, pulling James up from the ground by his coat.
“She’s off limits. If I see or hear about you again, I promise- James is it?” He nodded terrified, not being able to look anywhere else but the cold, invading abyss of Tommy’s stare.
“I promise you, the outcome won’t be very graceful, surely you’ve heard of me, eh?” The boy was shaking in his clothes, as you stood near rolling your eyes from Tommy’s jealousy problems. Though a small part of you couldn’t help but feel an immense light of the flame between your thighs. 
Dropping him to the ground, Tommy held his hand out for you, as he always did like the gentleman he was, also because he enjoyed the feeling of your hands cusped together, the warmth, and closeness.
You didn’t dare turn around to check on James, knowing what the consequences would be. Assisting you into the car, Tommy didn’t hesitate to prod.
“New friend of yours? You know how we feel about strangers. They like to put their noses in places they shouldn’t be.” His crystal eyes scanned your body sitting all too innocently in the passenger seat, and how your skirt was much too short, nearly showing your most treasured area.
When you hadn’t responded he glanced over once more, noticing a singular tear running down your cheek shamelessly.
“Darling, are you alright? I didn’t mean to-“
“Auntie Pol wants me to marry him and set up a date for an evening this week!” Ah, so this is the riddled path she chose to go down. Calming his demeanor from the previous sight at the school, Tommy gazed out the windshield, jaw tightening as he placed the diminishing fire lit on his cigarette into the ashtray. 
“Don’t worry love. Let me handle this, If Pol wants to play with fire, she must forget she is playing with the ring leader.”
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eiightysixbaby · 3 months
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HEYYYYYYYY i have a request forrrr toxic! eddie 👏👏👏👏👏 can we have him manipulate reader into staying w him like i just had this thought okay so either he like sneaks his phone and records orrrrr he goes live on HER insta so her hoes can see snd when she finds out shes mad but hes like 🙂
oh and this is all while they are hu
i guess this is more modern! eddie but who better to ask UR MY FAV WRITER IN EXISTENCE
you’re so sweet 🥹 thanks for the request. I hope I did this justice, toxic!eddie is kind of new territory for me. 🫶🏻
18+ only! toxic/manipulative eddie. do not read if this makes you uncomfy! secret recording during sex, blackmail, unprotected piv, creampie
Eddie can feel you slipping away. It’s only the slightest bit, but he can sense it. He was scared this day would come, when you’d get sick of him, decide that one of the other guys who fawn over you was more worthy of your attention.
And he knows it’s fucked up, his incessant need to have you in his grasp, but he can’t control it. You’re everything to him, the perfect girl. If he’s honest he’s not always sure how you ended up falling for him at all, but he’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
He can’t stomach losing you, and so he simply won’t.
You’re snippier when you arrive at his trailer this time, shorter in your responses. He knows you like the back of his hand, though, and he’s using it to his advantage. Turning you to putty right on his sofa, making you weaker for him until you’re begging him to fuck you. This is how it usually goes; you come over or he goes to yours, maybe you’ll watch a movie or order a pizza, smoke a joint, but it always ends with him inside of you. It’s arguably his favorite place to be, ever. And how dare you think you could take this luxury from him.
Carrying you to his room, he lays you down on his mattress, undoing the belt on his jeans with haste. You set your phone on his bedside table, pulling your shirt over your head and exposing your pretty tits. No bra, tonight. It’s like you’re trying to hurry this along.
Once he’s shirtless, pants pushed down far enough to free his aching cock, he moves to hover over you, necklace dangling in your face as he starts to kiss you. It’s rough, bitey, his teeth pulling at your bottom lip. His tongue prods into your mouth, licking at yours and making you arch your back, craving more from him. His lips trail downward, sucking harsh marks into your neck and collarbone.
You wriggle in his grasp. “Ed,” you whine, gasping when his teeth dig harder into your sensitive skin.
“Don’t act like you can’t handle this,” he growls, low and raspy as he moves down to your breasts.
He plays with them only for a moment, pinching at your nipples before sucking on them. You’re impatient, wanting him to fuck you already, and he can sense the urgency in the way you keep raising your hips to meet his.
“Bein’ such a fuckin’ brat today,” he says, sitting back on his heels. “Get on all fours for me, now.”
You oblige, nodding pathetically, stripping out of your pants and underwear before positioning yourself how he’d asked.
He strokes his cock where he sits behind you, his free hand caressing the globes of your ass. Two fingers dip into your folds, collecting some of the wetness that threatens to drip down your thighs. “So fucking wet,” he chuckles, smug, before lining himself up with your entrance.
He pushes in, nearly all the way, punching the air from your lungs. You grip his bedsheets tightly in your fists, crying out his name. God, he loves having you like this. Completely pliant for him, soaked and screaming. He starts his thrusts slow, torturously so. You wiggle your hips, whining beneath him, trying to get him to move faster.
He doesn’t like it, the way you seem to be in a hurry.
As if on cue, he watches your phone screen light up. You’re paying it no mind, nearly delirious where your face presses into his pillow. But he watches intently as another guy’s name appears on the screen, attempting to call you. The call is followed up by a couple of texts, someone desperately seeking your attention. He recognizes the name, because he’s seen you texting him before, when you thought he wasn’t looking.
A threat. A threat to Eddie’s time with you. And so he does something he knows he shouldn’t.
Keeping his pace so as not to alert you, he reaches beside him where his phone lays face down on the mattress. Opening the camera, he presses record, smacking your ass to start the video off nicely. You’re a moaning mess, and he makes sure the camera captures the way his cock drives in and out of you, your cream pooling around the base of his shaft. He gives it to you harder, more relentlessly, anything to keep you from turning around and catching him red handed.
“Fuuuuuuuck you suck my cock in so well,” Eddie groans, punching shrill noises from your mouth with each thrust he gives you.
You, blissfully unaware of his recording, are practically drooling on the pillow beneath you. Hurtling towards your release, crying out his name over and over again like a prayer.
You had to admit, you’d miss this after tonight.
Within a few minutes, both you and Eddie are tumbling over the edge, your walls clenching around him as he fills you with his cum. Every bit caught on camera, sure to document the way his seed drips from you and how his fingers fuck it back in.
He sets his phone down discreetly, cutting off the video, moving towards you to kiss you. You barely let him peck the corner of your mouth before you’re sliding off of the bed, finding your scattered clothing to redress.
“What’re you doing?” he asks, his voice laced with something you can’t place. He pulls up his jeans, securing the belt as he watches you.
“I need to go, Eddie,” you say, pulling your shirt over your head.
“Where are you going?” he moves to stand with you, his frame towering over you. His eyes are dark, expression stern.
“Why does it matter? I’m going out, Eddie.” you huff, trying to move around him. “And we need to stop doing this. I can’t have this kind of relationship with you anymore,” you say.
It’s kind of cute, how you think he’s just going to accept that. It’s also cute how you think he believes you want to be done with him. The way your thighs press together when he steps closer to you tells him otherwise.
“Do you have a date?”
“It’s none of your business, Eddie,” you snap, reaching to grab your phone from his nightstand, but he stops you with a firm hand around your wrist.
“If you leave right now, that date isn’t going to go very well,” he challenges, and your face scrunches in confusion.
“What?”
Picking up his phone, he unlocks it, and he sees your eyes start to widen in panic.
“I took this little video,” he starts, turning the screen to you and pressing play. “And if you leave right now, I’ll send this to every other fucking guy you’re talking to.”
“What… what the fuck,” you whisper, hands reaching up to run through your hair. “What the fuck Eddie!? You recorded us?” your voice grows louder, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re fucking sick,” you spit, and he has the audacity to laugh.
“Sweetheart, you think anyone can give it to you better than I can? You think I don’t notice how you completely fold for me?” he pouts, tilting your chin up with his index finger. “In fact, I bet you’re soaking your panties all over again thinking about everyone seeing our little sex tape.”
You swallow, lips parting and closing again, lost for words. The sickest part is that he’s right, you ache for him all over again. No one could do it like he does.
“I’ll cancel the date. I’ll text him right now and tell him I’m not coming,” you say meekly, nearly trembling under Eddie’s intense stare.
“Good girl.”
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Eddie Munson's family dinner
Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 23
Prompt: Uncle Wayne adopts Steve
Rated: M
CW: nudity
Tags: Modern AU; Rockstar Eddie; Royal Steve; Established relationship
Notes: Continued from days 11 and 14. I can't get this AU outta my head, halp!
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Eddie can't recall the first time he saw Steve. 
In all likelihood, he was two years old and Steve a tiny, wrinkly baby. His face was all over the news in the days and weeks following his birth, after all. Cradled in his mother's arms, staring bleary-eyed into the world as newborns tend to do - only that in his case, the entire world was staring back. The birth of the King's and Queen's first child had been long-awaited after all, a once-in-a-generation event. 
In the years that followed, Steve was always just … kind of there. A strange-but-familiar boy who kept popping up on TV and the front pages of magazines, living a life so different they may as well have been from different planets. 
Eddie still remembers fixing dinner in the trailer's tiny kitchen one night, news droning in the background. 
"Poor kid," Wayne grumbled. 
Eddie, sixteen and a giant shithead at the time, paused in putting the plates down on the table and glanced up to follow his uncle's gaze to the TV. 
"Oh yeah, woe is him. Must be so fucking hard, living in a palace. Having an army of servants to wipe your ass and shit." 
On the TV, the Prince sat between his parents at some sports event or other, a tiny carbon copy of his father with his Italian suit and carefully styled hair. Clapping at all the right times, face a polite, empty mask of a smile.
Wayne huffed. "Ain't no kid deserve that kinda shit. Always under scrutiny, paraded around like some trained dog." 
Eddie rolled his eyes and changed the topic and they didn't talk about it any further. 
*
Wayne's plates are still the same ones that Eddie was putting on the table all those years ago. Eddie has offered time and again to buy something new, but the stubborn old shit won't have it. Insists that Eddie already bought him a whole-ass house with the money from that first record deal, a car after the second, he won't die of a chipped plate or ten, thank you very much. He'll just have to get him new ones for Christmas, he guesses.
"This is delicious, Mr Munson," Steve is saying. He's sitting next to Eddie, back ramrod straight, elbows at a perfect angle, dissecting the meatloaf with careful precision. 
Like some trained dog. 
"My mom's recipe," Wayne hums, but then he sets down his own cutlery, expression serious. "Now … what are your intentions with my nephew?" 
Eddie flushes about twenty shades of crimson. Incidentally, so does Steve. 
"I …" he sputters, all traces of composure suddenly gone. "Well, I like Eddie a lot." 
"I figured …" Behind Wayne's beard, his mouth twitches. "Seeing how you're wearing his clothes and all." 
Steve blinks down at himself. They make sure to keep it low-profile when they're together. The paparazzi never sleep, after all, and they've both had their fair share of run-ins with the fuckers in the past. Which is why he's wearing a red-and-black flannel he stole from Eddie, faded and soft from too many cycles in the wash. Eddie wants to burn all the Italian suits in the world, wrap him up in soft and comfy clothes always. 
"Um …" Steve says. 
Wayne smiles. 
"Relax, son, I'm pulling your leg." If he notices how Steve tenses at the word son, he graciously ignores it. "Now are ya gonna take my boy's hand, or what?" 
Steve gapes. 
"Might as well," Eddie winks, takes the knife from Steve’s limp fingers and entwines their hands. "He'll just keep nagging until he gets what he wants." 
Their gazes lock and Steve smiles. Not a mask. The real one. The one where his eyes light up and he looks five years younger. The one that Eddie is rapidly becoming addicted to. 
He turns back to eating his dinner one-handed and remembers another boy, a boy from a very different planet, getting coaxed out of his shell over the same plates, the same meatloaf. 
Fuck the plates, he decides. Wayne is getting a whole damn kitchen for Christmas, whether he likes it or not. 
*
"He's a great guy, your uncle," Steve mutters into Eddie’s chest later that night. They're all curled up in Eddie’s bed and he's naked except for the flannel. He claims it's to ward off the cold air seeping in through the open window, and Eddie isn't about to argue. Not when the sight does things to him. 
"Sort of thought he was gonna hate me," Steve continues, and Eddie hums quizzically. 
"Why's that?" 
"Hm, let's see …" Steve's brow crinkles in mock-thought. "He raised the guy who wrote two top-ten songs about how much the monarchy sucks, that could've been a hint." 
"Nah," Eddie chuckles. "Guy would've adopted you as a kid, if he could've. He's always loved you, way-" 
Large hazel eyes blink up at him and the words get stuck in his throat. 
Because he hasn't said it yet, even though he's rapidly coming to accept that it's true. 
Way before I did.
"And apart from that," he says instead, "if you marry me, I'll be a princess. What parent doesn't want that for their kid?" 
"Hold your horses," Steve grumbles, but his eyes are sparkling again. "We can't get married if your uncle adopts me." 
"Shame," Eddie quips and presses him down into the pillows. "Would've loved to wear a tiara on stage, that sounds like a killer look."
Eddie doesn’t recall the first time he saw Steve, but he doesn’t really think it matters. Not when he gets to see the real him now, with no-one else watching. Blushing and naked, lips kissed pink, glowing with happiness.
It's an image he's sure he won't forget.
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All my holiday drabbles
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james-is-here · 3 months
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𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘭...
Waah!: The boys reaction to realizing they yelled at you when you have past trauma with yelling.
Ya-hoo!: Mn in this had a "Military" childhood, Dad treated him like a soldier and was always yelling at him whether it be commands or verbal abuse.
Yay!: Is it obvious what I'm using to label the start of my fics? lol. Anyway, Waah! is the summary. Ya-hoo! is a brief explanation or backstory, and Yay! is authors note. I need a fourth character noise for Warnings...Oh yeah! will by warnings. (Also, if you haven't got it yet, Waluigi, Mario, Peach, Luigi)
Oh Yeah!: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Trauma Triggers, The boys are unintentional dicks, Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, mentions of Blood, British Cigarette slur in Changbin's,
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𝓑𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓷 (598 Words)
The door of your apartment slammed shut, making you jump. He knows to not slam doors but you put aside your slight annoyance for him forgetting when you hear him muttering. You shuffle out of your room and head to the living room where you can hear the mutters more clearly. Something about a missing track and being behind a day since they had to re-record some lines.
"Hey, Channie..." You said softly as you gently crossed your arms. You may be a strong tall boy (tm) now but Chan was starting to scare you a bit. "I-I got us food...Wasn't sure what your wanted but I got your fav-" "Mn, Just shut the fuck up!" He yelled, turning towards you. "I saw the damn food but if you payed attention to your damn phone, you would've known that I ate with the boys." "Ch-Chan...Stop. Now." Your voice wavered as your eyes began to water. "Who are you to tell me to stop?!"
The phrase made you flinch, the flash of your father about to hit you after you told him to stop yelling at your siblings made you stumble back into the wall, bumping into the side table, knocking over a vase that shatters as you slid down the wall, your hands coming up to cover your head as you beg your father to not hurt you.
The moment "Appa, No, please!" left your mouth, Chan's anger and stress from the day immediately went out the window when he realized what just happened. "Shit, Shit, Mn, I'm sorry." He swore he'd never raise his voice and seeing you like this, curled against the wall shaking, crushed his heart. "Mn, hey, jagi, can you hear me?" A sob is all he gets in reply and he sighs as tears build up in his eyes. His eyes catch the glass around your leg and he notices that you landed on some of the pieces, a few small blood patches on your sweats. He knows he needs to be gentle but he can't let them get worse as he kneels in front of you to try and move you off and away from the glass. You fight against him, your hands trying to help you crawl away but your right ends up in the glass and you cry in pain this time. "Ah, shit." Your eyes snap open to first see your hand, then the glass around you. "I-I'm sorry, I-I'll clean this up." You go to stand but Chan stops you. "No, No, N/n, let's patch you up first." "B-But I-I have to clean with the wounds...t-to be tougher." "Mn, babe, look at me." You do so slowly and finally meet his teary gaze. "Ch-Channie..." A new set of tears fall and Chan scoops you up the best he can to get you away from the mess.
"I'm so sorry, N/n. I didn't mean to yell at you, I know better, I shouldn't have taken my stress of the day out on you, I am unbelievably sorry." His hug was tight as he cried into your shoulder. "I promise I won't do that again, I promise to be more aware of how I'm feeling. I'll make it up to you, I'm sorry." You shake in his hold but slowly you melt into him, his faint cologne and tight grip calming you down as you wrap your arms around him as well. Although your leg and palm stung, you were grounded enough to know that both of you were comforting one another in that moment.
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𝓛𝓮𝓮 𝓚𝓷𝓸𝔀 (950 Words)
Minho asked you a few days ago if you could meet him at his place so the two of you could finally spend time together after what felt like an eternity since the last time you saw each other.
You arrived a few minutes before him and hastily set out the food you brought, homemade from your sibling you visited a day prior. His cats surrounded you, watching you curiously as you get the food out. When you were done, you smiled at the cats before making your way into the living room and sat on the floor, Soonie crawled into your lap as Dori sat in front of you and Doongi was happily purring next to Dori as you pat his head and scratch his chin. Pausing your pets on the cat in your lap, you pull your phone out of your pocket to see if there's any updates from Minho. Five minutes ago is a message saying he's almost there and Fifteen minutes ago is a message asking if you could feed the babies for him. You're quick to remove Soonie from your lap and stand up, gathering their dishes and food when the door opens but you jump when it slams shut.
"Mn?" His tone was firm and you felt a little scared but kept in mind that he just came from either the studio or the dorms, he must've not had a good day. "In here!" You call out. "I brought my siblings home made Kimbap and Pajeon for dinner. I also picked up-" "Where's their food?" "O-Oh, it's right here." You smile gently when he reaches your line of sight. "I'm just filling Dori's-" "I sent that twenty minutes ago." "I-I know, and I have the bowls right here, just give me-" "Why didn't you do it when I texted you?" "M-Min, it's not a big deal. Look, I have their bowls." "Not a big deal? You're starving them." "Oh come on, Minnie, you're being overdramatic."
You kneel down and set the bowls near the cats before standing up and turning towards your boyfriend. "See? Now they're fed." You sassed, going to walk past him to go to your food when he blocked your path. "Minho, what is wrong with you?" You snapped. He suddenly grabbed your wrists and you whimpered at the tightness. The backbone you gained over time from your childhood was suddenly out the window as fear crept up your spine. "O-Ow, Min, you're hurting me." "I don't care. I asked you to do one simple task and you blew it off."
Tears gathered in your eyes as your thrown back to the one night you didn't do the dishes, too busy trying to finish an important, grade-on-the-line school project, and your dad came home to see the half filled sink. He had grabbed you, dragging you into the kitchen. You complained that he was hurting you and that phrase was uttered before he threw you in front of the sink, you had a bruise on your side for a week.
The tears finally fell as you squeezed your eyes shut. "M-Minho, please stop, I'm sorry I didn't feed them earlier." "Why are you crying? There's no need to be crying, you don't have a reason to cry." He shoved you backwards and you stumble into Soonie's food bowl, spilling his food as he jumps away as another memory flashes, your father said the same thing when you cried after seeing him shove your mother to the ground. You whimper quietly, stuttering as you shrink in on yourself. "I'm sorry, Appa, I'll do better, I'm sorry." Your eyes open to see the food at your feet and you silently kneel down onto both of your knees to clean your mess.
Minho was frozen, mulling over his thoughts before he sighs. He realized what happened, the night prior he slept at the dorms and was so happy he'll get to see you the next day but he had woken up with a nasty headache, fighting through the slight throb in his temples at practice and at the studio. This was his fault, twenty minutes really wasn't a big deal to get mad over but he was tired, annoyed, and in pain, he just wanted you and his babies and when he saw them without food, he just broke. He sighs as he gets on the floor with you, picking up the food with you. When all of it was back in the bowl, you suddenly picked it up and hastily walked back to the kitchen.
Minho's eyes followed you, watching you dump the bowl before pouring new food back into it. "Mn-ie..." He stood when you came back in. A gentle hand on your bicep, he takes the bowl, setting it down for the mewling cat at his feet before placing his other hand on your other arm to turn you towards him. "Jagiya, I'm sorry." He bends his knees to try and look at your eyes, tears gathering but not falling. He sighs again, standing up straight and wrapping his arms around you. He didn't say anything, he just cradled you, rubbing your back as you let the tears fall and soak his hoodie. You could tell he felt bad, gentle kisses placed on the top of your head and a couple on your cheek or hoodie-clad shoulder while he swayed the both of you gently. You take a step to try and push yourself further into his hold, wrapping your arms around his middle and his arms tighten around you. "I love you, Mn...I'm sorry." You sob into his shoulder, burying your face further into his shoulder. "L-Love you, M-Min..."
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𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓫𝓲𝓷 (635 Words)
You knew Changbin had a bad gym day and you did everything to cheer him up and make him feel better. You made him your noodle recipe from your mom that he absolutely loves, you drew him a warm bath when he texted a small ‘Almost home’. You sent him a quick message saying you love him and can't wait to see him but he didn't reply. Today must've been really bad, hopefully your little set up in your dining room will make him happy.
When Changbin came home, you smiled, finishing up dinner before walking out of the kitchen to greet your boyfriend, but as soon as you reached the entryway of your home, the air shifted and you realized that your Binnie was in a really bad mood as you made your way to the front door. “Hey, Bin.” “Hey.” “I, um, I drew you a bath…a-and I made your favorite recipe from my mom for dinner. It's ready when you finish your bath.” “Thanks.”
You wring your hands together before taking a stuttery inhale. “Y-You okay, Bin? I-Is there anything I can do…for you?” “No, you can't do anything.” “Excuse me?” “You can't do anything.” “Binnie, you don't mean that.” You give a weary smile and hesitant chuckle. “You just might be stressed and tired-” “Now you're suddenly aware of how I’m feeling? How would you know how I’m feeling?” “Bin-” “Stop, just stop.”
He shoves past you, his built shoulder shoving you into the wall and your left hand lands on the wall to stop yourself from colliding with the wall as you turn and watch Changbin walk away. “Bin, hey-” “I just told you to stop! Like I said, you can't do anything, you can't even listen properly.” His voice was rising the more he spoke and he turned back to you, taking slow steps towards you.
“Changbin, stop taking to me like that.” Your eyes grew glossy as you tried to hold in your tears. “Why are you crying? You're so pathetic.” “Changbin!” “Don't yell at me, you don't have a reason to yell at me!” Suddenly he's grabbing your arm and pulling you from the front door entryway to push you into the livingroom. Unfortunately, you managed to trip over the corner of your rug and you landed on your side at the same time your head connected to the side of the coffee table. You yelp in pain, feeling as if you were fifteen again when your dad found out you had a boyfriend, furious that his son was a ‘Weak Fag’ and ‘pathetic’ as you collided with the wall next to the television.
The tears fell and you let out a sob as your head pounded. You reach up to your temple and pull your hand back to find some blood, looking back up to see Changbin still standing there, staring, still angry as if he didn't realize what he just did.
You got up with shaky legs and ran to the bathroom, aiming to patch your wound but the first thing you do is slide down the door with a sob and pull your phone out, calling the first contact that you manage to navigate to. Meanwhile, Changbin tossed his hands up when you ran to the bathroom, amused that you ran away from him, still not aware of what just happened.
A few minutes later, the still unlocked front door was pushed open and he got a small glimpse of Felix rushing to the bathroom before Chan was slamming the door closed and pushing Changbin against the wall. “What the fuck-” “What is wrong with you?!” “What?” “You know he has abuse trauma, why the fuck did you do it?” “What do you mean?” Suddenly, Chan slaps him, and gestures to the room. “Look around, Changbin.” There's a few blood droplets next to the coffee table, staining your messed up rug from when you tripped, Felix trying to get you to open the bathroom door, and on the dining table were dishes ready for dinner. What really brought Changbin to reality was the number two balloon and what looked like a custom banner saying “I love you, Binnie, Happy Two Years.”
Fuck
Your guy's anniversary…
(I'm ending his here but if a pt.2/continuation is wanted, I'll get it to you :)...)
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𝓗𝔂𝓾𝓷𝓳𝓲𝓷 (1083 words)
With the couple years you guys have been together, you had finally gained courage to suggest that Hyunjin moved in with you. Not like move in physically, he still lives with the boys at the dorm, I mean you let him claim your guest room to be another art studio for him. It was already your own little work space but you donated the bed, cleaned it up, reorganized, and got new furniture to surprise him with it for your one year anniversary.
Now, most of your home is covered in paintings that he's made. Either permanently or just to get it out of the room. He was with the boys when you were cleaning around, your last room of the day being the studio. You didn't do much, knowing how Hyunjin likes his things where he puts them, the most you did was put blank canvases together in the corner and put things back where you knew they belonged and knew your boy wasn't using the item anymore.
You were moving to your side of the studio when your foot slips slightly and you notice a brush of his. It was still usable but the handle was messy and slight warn and the bristles were beginning to fray. Looking at his desk, you see the other brushes which seem to be in the same state. You didn't think about it to much before smiling, biting your lip to keep the grin from spreading too wide before making your way to a set of drawers next to your desk, a collective catch all and your lucky that he's never opened the bottom drawer which contains new brushes. Black handles with a gold metal holding clean brown bristles, custom made with a little engravings on them. "Forever my prince" and "Hwang No.1". You've had them for a while, waiting for the right moment to give them since whenever you brought up the topic, he'd say the ones he has are still useful but it wasn't about just replacing his brushes, one of the brushes engravings was "Ln Hyunjin." You finally were going to propose.
You collected the old brushes and moved them to the long drawer on your desk to hide them, throw them away later. You then got an unoccupied small white vase and placed the brushes in like a bouquet before writing and small note, a simple 'Just because gift ~Mn <3' that you place next to the vase. You would've given them physically but you had some errands to run with your sibling, that's why you were cleaning, killing time.
After running errands, you came back and heard small muttering in the studio, smiling when you see his shoes before it falls when you see the slight disarray your living room was in. "Damn it, Mn, what did you do with them?" You heard him huff. What did you do? Walking down the hall, you see a few of your new brushes for him and your chest grows tight. "Jinnie?" "Mn! Where are my brushes?" "D-Didn't you see I got you new ones?" "I didn't need new ones, Mn! The ones I had are ones I'm use to." "So because you didn't want to try out the ones I bought you, you throw them on the floor?" "Mn, I didn't need new ones to begin with! If you listened to me, I wouldn't be yelling at you!"
"If you listened to me, I wouldn't have to punish you!" Your dad yelled a day after he said "Listen closely, you don't say a word about what I did to mom, I won't punish you for not cleaning the truck like I told you to do." The same day you gave in and begged your teacher that day at school to help save your family. You just wanted away from that man, you didn't want to be near him anymore but when the cops showed up, he lied, and when they left, let's just say you missed a week of school due to some bruises and your father didn't want to get caught. That's when you realized he only cared about himself and how people see him.
"I-I'm sorry...Y-You always get m-me gifts, I-I was just returning th-the favor..." "Well, you didn't have to. Now where are they?" "I-In m-my desk..." You suddenly felt like a little boy again, you felt small, confined, trapped. You wipe at your eyes with the bottom of your palm, sniffing as you watch him kick the other brushes away. "J-Jin?" "What?" He snapped. "I-I'm sorry, J-Jin-nim, I'm sorry." Chocking back a sob, you step back and run out of the room. "Jin-nim?" Hyunjin mutters to himself confused before his eyes widen, looking at the brushes before the ones in his hands clatter to the floor and he's chasing after you. You were forced to call your father Mister Jin.
Your shoes were missing and your front door was open. "Shit." He quickly slid his shoes on before running out the door. He could see you not that far away as he was quick to catch up to you, wrapping his arms around you to stop you from walking farther. "Mn, Muse, hold on." He turned you around to face him, a hand on the side of your face to gently guide your gaze up to him. "Mn, I'm sorry." "What?" You blinked a couple times before you realized it was Jin. Your Jin. "Hyunjin?" "Yeah, it's okay. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to yell, I didn't mean to get rational, I-I don't know what came over me, I should've just asked." "Y-You didn't even see the brushes...Did you?" "N-Not really...I-I really am sorry."
You reach a hand up to his, leaning into his touch before you remove his hand and walk back home. When you return, to pull him to the studio, picking up the fan brush with his name. "This is your last name." "I know." You pull him further into the studio but he stops to look at the other brushes as you move to your desk drawer, reaching to the back to pull out a ring.
You turn around, admiring Hyunjin for a moment before walking over to him, placing a gentle hand on his elbow to get him to look at you before smiling when his eye catches the ring instead. "Mn..." "I know you...just yelled at me and I have so many problems but...be mine?"
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Got carried away with Hyunjin's but I'm a writer who loves details but sorry this took so long. Ended up making this two parts cause I didn't know what to do for the maknae's cause my brain thinks they're too precious to hurt someone but I will think of something. For now, I hope you...enjoyed? It's kinda weird to say I hope you enjoyed this since it's a trauma fic 😬 N E WAYS, I just hope it's okay.
Tagging @lakee-jakee and @belladonna6-6-6 who commented on the original post of me asking if anyone wanted this. It do finally be done :)
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obsolescent · 9 months
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bad idea right?
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Pairing: Fuckboy!Leon S. Kennedy x AFAB!GN!Reader
Author’s Note: This wouldn’t leave my head until I got it out!! Giggling, kicking my feet writing this up. I don’t know if I made him fuckboy-ish enough but, lol. This got really nasty then really sappy. Enjoy!
Song: bad idea right? By Olivia Rodrigo
Content Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral sex, squirting, Leon’s cocky ass mouth, trans Leon, no gendered language for reader, edging, orgasm denial, confessed feelings.
Words: 3,258
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“Haven't heard from you in a couple of months But I'm out right now, and I'm all fucked up And you're callin' my phone, you're all alone And I'm sensin' some undertone”
Getting trashed with your friends has become a weekly occurrence, going out bar hopping and dancing the night away. It’s the usual Friday night, taking shots in between your horribly inaccurate throws at the dartboard with your darts, sending you and your friends into a laughing fit. After finishing your turn, you ungracefully plop down onto a bar stool, pulling out your phone.
The screen lights up and you’re met with a missed call from your ex, Leon. ‘What does he want?’ Seeing a voicemail was left, you stand up and let your friends know you’re stepping outside for some air. Opening the back door into an alley, the brisk autumn air sending a chill through your body. Clicking on the voicemail, you let it play.
There’s some rustling on his end of the line, “Hey,” He starts, slurring his greeting, “What’re you up to tonight? Settled into my new place…Not too far from those bars you and your friends go to,” He knows? Like he can hear your thoughts, he lets out an airy chuckle, “Come over…Been thinkin’ ‘bout you...Missin’ you. Sent the address.” The recording ends there. Obviously drunk himself, yet that huskiness of his voice that always sent tingles through your being is present. He knows what it does to you, even after everything.
“And I'm right here with all my friends But you're sendin' me your new address And I know we're done, I know we're through But, God, when I look at you”
You bite your lip, contemplating. The way things ended between you two wasn’t that bad…He’s just an asshole! His antics drove you up the wall. The shit he would get into with his friends, that damn mouth on him. But, oh, he was so sweet when he wasn’t being a little shit. Crinkling his beautiful blues, cocking his head, that grin. Whispering the sweetest words in your ear, syrup dripping from his lips. Coating your senses and setting your body aflame.
The way he could work your body…Fuck. You don’t think you’ll ever find someone as good as him. The past couple months have been achingly empty for you, in so many ways. Your body yearning for his touch, it begging, one more time, please just one more. Your teeth bite into your fist, trying to rein in your hormones and your thoughts. You know it’s a losing battle, especially with your inebriated mind. 
“My brain goes, "Ah" Can't hear my thoughts (I cannot hear my thoughts) Like blah-blah-blah (blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah) Should probably not I should probably, probably not I should probably, probably not”
Feeling fuzzy, your body warming up at the thought of his hands on you again. ‘He invited you! He wanted to show you his new place, you can’t be rude and turn that down. It’ll be okay, come on! You can just be friends now, there’s no harm in that.’ Your brain jumps through hoops trying to sway your answer. 
“Seein' you tonight, it's a bad idea, right? Seein' you tonight, it's a bad idea, right? Seein' you tonight, it's a bad idea, right? Seein' you tonight, fuck it, it's fine”
You take a deep breath and walk back inside. Your friends are sitting at a table now, munching on appetizers and sipping away. You tell them you aren’t feeling good, that you’re going to go home and go to bed. Wishing you well and to be safe, their sentences blending together. You take your leave and head to the front, pulling out your phone to get a ride to Leon’s new place. It doesn’t take long for the car to show up, and once inside the car pulls away from the sidewalk, heading to your undoing. 
“Now I'm gettin' in the car, wreckin' all my plans I know I should stop–but I can't And I told my friends I was asleep But I never said where or in whose sheets”
You don’t let him know you’re coming, in case you change your mind. ‘You won’t,’ Your mind hisses, ‘You need this too bad. It’ll be this one time and you can get it, and him, out of your system,’ Your mind is still persuading you, even as the buildings fly past and the streetlights blur across the window, ever getting closer to him.
The car reaches its destination, you thank the driver and step out to an apartment complex. Taking the stairs instead of the elevator, you give yourself a once over while you make your trek to the second floor. Taking the smallest steps, you finally make it to his door. Deep breath in, exhale, you knock.
“And I pull up to your place, on the second floor And you're standin', smiling at the door And I'm sure I've seen much hotter men But I really can't remember when”
Faint shuffling is heard before the door is opened, and there he is. Propped against the frame, taking up the majority of the space with his broadness. Shirtless, with gray sweats that hang dangerously low on his hips, that crooked smirk is plastered on his face. It soon turns into a grin as his eyes make his way up your body, flushing your entire system with want.
He sighs, cocking his head. His blond fringe falls away from his face. “Knew you’d come.” He steps aside and ushers you in, locking the door behind you while you remove your shoes and put down your belongings. The new place is quite nice, Leon having already unpacked everything, the kitchen and living room looking immaculate. The thing about Leon, is that he may seem like a douche on the outside, acting like he doesn’t care about anything, but he’s quite the perfectionist. What you lo–liked about him, how meticulous he was about things, small stuff that you didn’t think he’d notice.
Which makes it all the more frustrating for you. His outwardly behavior doesn’t make–You snap back from your thoughts when you feel him brush against you from behind, his body’s warmth seeping into your system. “Like it so far?” He whispers, bending down to your ear, his breath disturbing pieces of your hair. This close, he smells faintly of vodka and his signature scent, the fragrance washing over your senses. God, you missed him. 
“My brain goes, "Ah" Can't hear my thoughts (I cannot hear my thoughts) Like blah-blah-blah (blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah) Should probably not I should probably, probably not I should probably, probably not”
“Yeah, i-it looks great. You’ve always had an eye for decor,” You get out, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. He hums, placing his hands on either of your upper arms. His fingers gripping softly, skin tingling around his palms. “Thanks. Let me give you a tour, yeah? You haven’t seen the best part yet,” He chuckles and steers you into the living room, seeming like he’s actually going to take you throughout the place.
He directs you to stand in front of the couch.
It’s the same one he had at his old apartment. A black leather sofa with solid wood legs, the contrasting colors make it pop. It had always been pretty comfortable, you could see why he wouldn’t get rid of it. “Remember this couch?” He asks, lightly squeezing your arms. You hum and nod, not sure where he’s going with this. He leans down, grazing his lips against the shell of your ear. You can hear the grin in his words  as he says, “Remember when I made you squirt so much that it was dripping off the sides?” 
The fire that erupts in your body scorches throughout. Like he flipped a switch with his words, your nipples harden, feeling wetness run out of you. You make a noise in the back of your throat while he moves his hands from your arms. One lowering to grip your waist, the other moving higher, to your throat. A firm hold, he adds no pressure. It sits there, possessively. 
He guides your head back, tilting it so you can meet his eyes. Cerulean half-lidded, grin still spread across his face with satisfaction at your body’s response. Tipping his head forward, lips brushing. “You’ve needed me so bad, huh? Must’ve been so hard these past couple months without me fucking you.” You whimper, eyes fluttering closed. He tightens his grip on your throat. 
“Seein' you tonight, it's a bad idea, right? Seein' you tonight, it's a bad idea, right? Seein' you tonight, it's a bad idea, right? Seein' you tonight, fuck it, it's fine”
“Look at me,” He commands, your eyes once again trained on his face. “So good, you could always follow directions so well.” “Please,” You plead, beginning to tremble. “Oh? Something you want? You know how to ask, or is that brain of yours already turned to mush?” He’s taunting you, you don’t even fucking care. “N-need you to touch me, so bad,” You whisper, lips parted. You lean up on your tiptoes to try to close the distance between your lips, but he pulls away.
He tuts, “Why don’t we start with you getting on your knees for me, then I’ll think about touching you, hm?” He pats your cheek with his hand. You turn towards him and immediately sink to the floor, knees hitting the rug a bit too fast, causing a bit of burn. Ignoring it to grab at his sweats, you begin pulling them down. “Goddamn, baby. If I knew you would get on your knees this quick, I would’ve called sooner.” Ignoring him, you work on his briefs next, joining the pants around his ankles.
Fully exposed to you, your eyes rake up his sculpted physique. Having looked like he was carved out of marble, freckles and moles scattered about his body, his chest scars faintly contrasting with his skin. “Admiring the view? Me too,” He props his hands on his hips, smirking down at you. You think if you rolled your eyes any harder they’d pop out of their sockets.
You look up at him, a smirk pulling at your features. He narrows his eyes. “What’s that look ab–oh fuck!” He yells out, hands shooting from his hips to entangle in your hair, having latched your mouth to his T-cock without warning. It jumps in your mouth and you quickly set to work on sucking, moving your head back and forth, hands gripping his thighs.
You set a ruinous pace, giving him a taste of his own medicine. You glance up to see his head thrown back and eyes closed, biting his lip to unsuccessfully stifle his whines. Your hand trails up closer to his cunt, fingers dipping into the wetness that’s accumulated. You slide one inside easily, immediately curling it and setting its pace to match your mouth.
He gasps out, body hunched over yours now, the grip he has on your hair tightens, a slight sting to it. “Ugh, God, baby don’t stop it feels so good, uh, yeah, you make me feel so fucking good,” That mouth of his never knows when to shut up, especially during sex. His babbles continue, his hips now meeting your mouth, thrusting into your warmth. You glide your tongue over his hardened clit, nose bumping into it while dipping down into his hole, tasting more of him. You love the way he tastes, eyes falling shut, savoring.
Leon’s body begins to tremble, a sign that he’s close. You latch your mouth back into place over his growth while you slide another finger inside, ramping up the pace. “FUCK, God! Don’t stop, I’m so goddamn close, baby. Feels so good, make me feel so good, love that fucking mouth,” continuous stream of words pouring from his mouth now, making you dizzy from the praise.
Feeling his beginning release splashing against you, you move your hand up to his lower abdomen and press down. Cock pulsing in your mouth while he squirts, soaking you and your clothes. They’ll surely be a noise complaint from the scream he produced as he hit his peak. You remove your mouth from him with a pop and lean back, loving the fucked out expression his face. 
“God. I needed that,” He murmurs, his hands now soothingly running through your hair. You hum, reaching to peel off your ruined clothing. “That’s a good look for you, babe.” It never stops with him. Shooting him a glare, you stand up and pull your bottoms down, stepping out of them. You pull your shirt off next, throwing it against his chest. It meets skin with a satisfying splat. “Ugh, why’d you do that for?” He grumbles, tossing it to the ground. 
“You and that goddamn mouth,” You spat, shoving your underwear down to your feet. “Whatever, you fucking love it.” He says, watching your movements with a starved look. Now fully naked, you turn toward him and catch his stare. You grin, “Admiring the view?” You repeat his own words to him, his eyes darting up to catch your amused look. Without answering, he stalks forward and you’re suddenly lifted into the air, a squeal leaving your throat.
Wrapping your legs around his waist to anchor yourself, latching your arms around his neck, he carries you into his bedroom. Tossing you onto the bed with an ‘oof’ leaving you, he opens his night stand and sets a few items to the side. “I’ve been thinking,” He starts, coming back to you and grabbing the back of your knees, pulling your legs apart. “About this since you walked out of my door two months ago. Been craving your pussy like a fucking drug.” He sinks to his knees. 
“Yes, I know that he's my ex, but can't two people reconnect? "I only see him as a friend," the biggest lie I ever said Oh, yes, I know that he's my ex, but can't two people reconnect? I only see him as a friend, I just tripped and fell into his bed”
“Now, you’re going to keep those legs spread for me while I eat you out, and you ain’t cumming until I tell you to.” He spits on your cunt. He watches it drip down your clit, jumping at the contact, swollen from arousal. “Fuck, no, come on Leon,” You beg, propping yourself up on your elbows to look down at him. You open your mouth to plead some more when he lunges forward and licks a trail up from your hole to then suck your clit into his mouth. 
You gasp, falling back against the sheets and he takes his fill, the noises of your wet pussy filling the empty space. You whimper, holding yourself back, but his fucking mouth. On a particular hard suck, your body spasms and you squirt, wetting Leon’s chin. He pulls away, narrowing his eyes. “What did I tell you?” He asks, pushing two fingers into your trembling hole. “I-I didn’t–fuck–cum!” You gasp out, his finger unrelenting. “No squirting either, or can you not follow directions, huh?” He goads. You huff, letting your head fall back to the bed once more. “Can’t help that it f-feels so good–ah–” Your back arches when he hits a particular spot inside you. 
This isn’t what you were expecting from Leon’s call, thinking it would be a quickie, it soon evolving into what seems like an all night fuck session. You would have those every once in a while, his stamina seemingly lasting for hours. You were not prepared for it, but you’re not complaining, either.
His mouth returns to you, lapping up your juices, slurping as he goes. You groan at the sensation, gripping the sheets. “Favorite fucking meal,” His babbling coming back, pussy drunk. You tense up, fighting off the waves of pleasure and bite your lip, taking deep breaths. He must notice, as he pulls up for a breath he asks, “Aw, poor thing. Bet you’re wanting to just gush on my face, huh?” You whimper, “Leon, please. I’ve been so good, let me cum,” You’re close to tears, willing to tell him anything if he allows you to finish.
He hums, contemplating, rubbing his thumb against your clit, it throbbing against his finger. “Tell me how much you missed me, how badly you needed me these past couple months.” You tense, your brain in a frenzy trying to form a sentence. You did miss him. Missed his cocky smile, his corny jokes and his softer side he showed only to you. Your brain conjured up something you didn’t proofread before it left your mouth, saying, “I love you.”
Leon stills. His movements paused over your overly sensitive area, watching your face. “You…What?” Unbeknownst to you, his widened eyes shimmering with emotion, you hastily try to backtrack. “I-I didn’t mean to say that, not what I meant to say,” You get out, pulling yourself up on your elbows. “I didn’t mean to make this awkward, I’m sorry, Le–AH” You yell out, your lower body getting grabbed and dragged even further off the edge of the bed, Leon starting again with renewed vigor.
“F-fuck, Leon! Oh God, I c-can’t hold back anymore, gonna cum,” You wail out, hands reaching down to pull at his silky strands. He groans against you, “Cum for me, baby, come on. Make a mess all over my fucking face,” He growls out, unrelenting. Your hips buck up to meet his suckling, fingers squelching in and out of you. Keening, you reach your orgasm. Chanting his name as you quiver against his head, your release running down his face and chest. He groans, letting you ride it out. Rutting into his mouth, his jumbled words indecipherable to your blissed out mind. 
Laying limp against the sheets, Leon finally pulls away, eyes raking over your body, taking in every detail he can. He maneuvers your body to lay your head against the pillows, climbing into bed himself. He engulfs your frame, burying his face into your neck.
“Did you mean it?” His ask is muffled by his face’s position against you. You bring your hands up, running one up and down his back while the other cards through his hair. You take a breath before responding. “Yeah, I did,” Turning your face, your confirmation whispered against his head. His grip tightens, a noise bubbling up from his throat. 
“Do you…Love me too?” You ask, the air around you two seemingly waiting with anticipation. He moves his head against you, nodding. A smile adorns your face. You kiss the top of his head, letting him continue to latch onto you. He shifts, clearing his throat and pulling the blankets over your bodies. You’re now turned away from him, with him spooning you. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulls you closer. He buries his face into your hair, “Do you, you know. Want to try again?” His voice is quiet, muffled still. 
“Yeah, I would,” You smile, squeezing one of his forearms. “Cool,” He says, his grip tightening. Emotional constipation aside, It’s moments like these where you forget why you left to begin with. These moments you cherished with Leon after being so vulnerable. The way his voice softened and became shy, how he would hold you close. Maybe, after your confession, it would change things, maybe.
Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
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Tags: @neondogs, tagging since I finished it before I sent you the excerpt 😭
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sometimesanalice · 1 year
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Oh Christmas Tree
Summary: Bradley’s never been one to look forward to the holidays, that is until he met you. He’s excited to do everything, including getting his very first real Christmas tree.
Warnings: Fluff, slight angst, allusions to smut. Minors DNI.
Length: 7.2K 
Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader
(What was supposed to be a quick fluffy Christmas fic, somehow turned into this, enjoy!)
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The atmosphere at the Hard Deck was livelier than usual, the music seemed more upbeat and the voices a little louder. It was the first time in a while that the entire Dagger Squad was together in one place. News of the success of the Uranium Mission traveled fast and had been keeping them busy in the months that had followed.
Things seemed to settle down a bit as the holidays rolled around, some has dispersed home for Thanksgiving while a few others had been given last minute orders to ship out for a short mission. You’d been dying to take Bradley Bradshaw home to meet your parents in person, but he had been one of the few sent away only set to return the day after Thanksgiving.
You’re sitting across from Natasha at a high top near the pool tables in the back of the bar listening to Jake talk about his visit home, while your boyfriend next to you talks animatedly about something related to his latest mission with Bob.
“I shaved off an extra 5 minutes from the last Trot. Turns out I’m in even better shape than I was the last time I was home for Thanksgiving,” Jake brags smugly taking a swig of his beer from his nearly empty bottle.
“Wait, you come from a Turkey Trot family? That explains so much. Please tell me, you guys wear matching Seresin family shirts for it too,” you tease without remorse. “Oh! Or maybe those turkey leg bobble headbands?” 
You hear Bradley snort into his beer as he drops a well-defined arm across your shoulders. He’s wearing one of your favorite Hawaiian shirts from his collection, and you’ve been having a hard time keeping your eyes and hands to yourself.
“Bradshaw! Are you going to let your girl trash talk me like that?” You turn to Bradley to see him smirk with a shrug at Jake’s indignation.
“I mean, if the headband fits,” he replies lifting his bottle up in cheers.
“Darlin’, you wound me. And for the record they don’t match, since we all get to decorate our own with those paints in the little squeeze bottles,” he says pointing his empty bottle at you before turning to Bradley, “And see if I ever save your smug ass again.” He walks away making his way to the bar for another beer.
“Formal petition to change his callsign to Turkey now. Him and Rooster could be the Bird Bros,” Natasha jokes after he’s out of earshot. “What about you, how was your trip home?”
“It was pretty good,” you feel Bradley start playing with the ends of your hair, while he picks his conversation with Bob back up. “Since my sister had the baby, my parents have been leaning into the new grandparent thing pretty hard. So I set to establishing myself as the fun wine aunt, and basically drank cranberry mimosas all day.” You pause to take a sip of your drink, “Which I regretted immediately the next day when my parents decided it was imperative that we all go to their favorite Christmas tree farm as soon as it opened to cut one down together. Baby’s first Christmas all.” You unlock your phone to pull up the folder you made of pictures from the visit, handing over your phone to let her scroll.
“Since they’re flying out to spend Christmas with my sister and her in-laws in Philly, I tried to talk them into an artificial tree. Which is blasphemy where I’m from, I’m pretty sure the state tree is the Douglas Fir. My family takes the tree hunt very seriously, there’s a science to it and everything,” you lean over to swipe past some of the selfies you took to show her the completed tree in your parents sitting room. 
“However, as you can see, my attempt to talk them into the lower maintenance, yet slightly ostentatious, fluffy pink tree of my dreams was met with a hard pass,” you say laughing to yourself.
She swipes backwards a couple times on the pictures. “This one is cute, why didn’t you post this photo?” she asks holding your phone up showing a selfie of you at the tree farm.
“Which one? Let me see,” Bradley requests, his conversation with Bob now abandoned. He’s already leaning into you and reaching across the high top with his large hands to take the phone from Nat.
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It was a photo of you that Bradley hadn’t seen before. You were pink nosed wrapped up in cozy looking scarf, surrounded by pine trees and grinning into the camera. And his heart swells at the sight of the image before him. It’s just so you.
“You really look pretty,” he states sincerely. He glances at you briefly to see a hint of a blush spread across your cheeks before turning his gaze back to the picture of you.
He’d known you had been just as eager as he was for to him come home with you to meet your parents in person. You had even concocted a plan that involved him to try and help you get your hands on your Aunt Christine’s corn soufflé recipe.
“My mom has tried to get it for years, and she refuses to share it with anyone!” you’d lamented to him one evening after a couple large glasses of wine. “She always says she’ll email it, but she never does!” You gesture wildly. He loved getting to know all sides of you, but two-drink you was a particular favorite of his.
“Mmm. Girlboss, gaslight, gatekeep,” he nodded along in solidarity.
“Exactly, Bradley! You get it!” You take another long, deep sip of your Merlot, your feet tucked under you on his couch. “Me with my wiles and you with your Rooster charisma, I think this might be the year! I’ll set the groundwork and you can lay the ruggedly-handsome-impossibly-sexy-American-hero-thing on thick,” he loved how animated you were getting and he was having a hard time keeping the indulgent smile off of his face. “And she’ll fall right into our trap and release the goods all while thinking she’s staring in her own Hallmark movie.” He knew he would do anything for you, what his girl wants she gets. If that involves some light to heavy flirting with your aunt, so be it. He was getting soufflé recipe for you one way or another.
However, those plans were quickly dashed when he got the mission orders at the last minute. His stomach was in knots when it came time to tell you, but you were quick to put him at ease by reminding him there was always next year. “Plus” you’d said, “it gives us a whole year to craft our Stealthy Soufflé Scheme. Although, maybe we can pop up in May or June? I want to show you all the sights, we can even go hiking! And I’m definitely planning on taking you on a beer tour.”
“That sounds like the perfect trip, Sweetheart. I’d love that. I’ll see about getting a request submitted first thing in the morning,” he was already setting a reminder in his phone so he wouldn’t get too distracted at work and forget. He wasn’t going to let you down again.
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“Oh. That’s probably one I snapped really quick and forgot to send to Bradley. I was probably already spamming him too much as it was,” you answer in response to Natasha’s question. Even though you knew exactly why that one never made it his inbox.
Since you’d be spending the holiday apart, Bradley had requested that you send him pictures throughout your visit so that he didn’t feel like he was missing anything. You had sent him ones of you at the grocery store with your mom, of you holding your niece, a few silly ones fueled by too many champagne heavy mimosas, and some less family friendly shots of you in bed wearing the deep wine-colored lacy lingerie set you had planned to surprise him with. And then a few without the lingerie set too.
You had known he wouldn’t have the best reception, so you sent them as things happened knowing that he’d respond whenever he could. You just wanted them there waiting for him. However, a few days in was getting hard to know what was too much when all you could see were all your outgoing messages to him.
You had felt yourself getting a little self-conscious and started second guessing the things you sent, like the picture from the tree farm. You didn’t want to go overboard and scare him off or make it seem like you were rubbing his face in all the things he was missing while he was on assignment. You had just wanted him to know that you were thinking about him- which was pretty much all the time.
Turning your head to take him in next to you. He’s sitting there with a soft smile on his face while he is tapping away on your phone. When his phone lights up mere moments later, you realize he’d just sent the image to himself and was now paging through the folder looking for others.
“For being a Communications Specialist, you’re really bad about updating your own social media. That one was definitely worthy of making it to the grid,” Nat announces as she slides off the barstool taking Bob with her to go dominate on one of the pool tables.
Bradley hands you your phone back. “You know, I’ve never been to a Christmas tree farm. Or even had a real tree for that matter,” he murmurs a bit ruefully when it’s just the two of you, picking at the label of the bottle Natasha had left behind.
“When I was younger we only ever had a fake tree. And then after my mom passed, everything with Mav, and moving around so much I just kind of didn’t ever want to think about it. I never thought to get anything for myself.” He lets out a breath, shaking his head slightly. “I’m really happy you’re sticking around to show me the ropes this year,” he says earnestly, sounding much lighter than before.
The thought of him fending for himself for so long makes your heart hurt. You lean into him pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek. “I’m happy you want to spend the day with me,” you tell him brushing your nose against his as you pull away. 
“I did my good daughter duties, but flying home during the one of busiest days of the year was enough for me. And I wouldn’t want to subject you to the Richardson’s by going to Philly, my parents call them the Dickardson’s for a reason,” making a face that causes him to laugh.
“We’re going to have the best Christmas together, I wouldn’t want to spend the day with anyone else.” This time when you pull him in for another kiss your lips are eager to meet his. The slide of his mouth against yours never fails to make your heart beat wildly in your chest.
You could spend days kissing Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw and never want to break for air. It’s only at the sound of someone’s loud wolf whistle that you break apart as you’re brought back the moment.
“You know, I’m still not over the fact that my girlfriend withheld such ‘compelling content’ from me,” he teases, using air quotes the buzzwords he’s heard you say from listening to one too many of your late night zoom meetings.
“It was the last day! You were getting in before me, and I thought you’d want the real deal instead. And to tell the truth, I didn’t know if I was overdoing it. I didn’t want to make you feel left out,” you explain honestly. You’ve always been the type to keep those insecurities to yourself, but you’ve been trying to do better. He makes you feel safe enough to open up without holding back.
“Sweetheart.” He picks up your hand his mustache brushing the back of it as he places a kiss there. “You could never overdo it. Spam away, send me everything. I love getting those pictures, it makes me feel closer to you. But, I do know how you could make it up to me.” As he sends a mischievous wink your way.
You’re hit with a brief vision of you on your knees before him in that wine-colored set he still has yet to see in person. 
“Oh, do you?” You ease off your stool to stand in front of him, his legs automatically widening for you to step in between them.
“Wanna come help me pick out a tree this weekend?” he asks, slipping his hands into the back pockets of your jeans to tug you in even closer. “I hear you know a thing or two about picking out the best one,” his eyes crinkle around the edges as he smiles broadly at you.
You don’t bother fighting back the grin that takes over your face. “Stick with me, kid,” you say taking his sunglasses from where they rest against his chest and sliding them on, “I won’t lead you astray.” 
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Bradley had the best afternoon learning the ins and outs of selecting the perfect tree at the tree lot with you. 
He had found a tree place with a festive name that was about 30 minutes away, it was probably a bit different than what you were used to, but he hoped you’d be happy with the options there. He had even called in advance to make sure they had the specific variety your parents usually got after texting with your dad to find out what he should be looking for.
He had wanted to pick you up from your apartment, but you had insisted on meeting him at his place since you had an early work meeting scheduled in the morning. And had greeted you with a coffee in hand from your favorite shop when you arrived.
He’d even worn the plaid flannel shirt you had bought for him when you were visiting home for the occasion. When he parked the Bronco in the lot, you had giddily exclaimed, “Bradley, look at all the trees! There’s way more than I thought there’d be. It smells like home!” 
Once you were both out of the car you had grabbed his hand threading your fingers between his, and set off like a woman on a mission. He’d felt rather pleased with himself. 
The outdoor speakers were playing the local Christmas radio station and there were rows and rows of trees under a few large white topped tents. He loved how seriously you were taking this, and if he wasn’t already totally enamored with you this would have sealed the deal.
You’d taught him how to determine its freshness, “You have to pull a needle off and see if it bends or snaps. If it snaps then it’s already way too dried out and you’re just purchasing a giant match stick.” 
From there the came the scent test, “Now sniff the tree, you have to get your face in there. The stronger the tree scent the longer it will last.” 
And finally, the aesthetics. 
“I like mine a little girthy and on the fuller side, but that’s all a matter of personal preference. You want some gaps, so that the heavier ornaments can hang better, but not too many. And the top has to be straight, no one wants a lopsided tree topper.”
“That’s not the only thing you like full and girthy,” he couldn’t help but let slip out.
“Bradley, there are children here!” you admonished while looking around wide eyed, but that didn’t stop you from grazing the front of his jeans every chance you got.
So, when he managed to find what you excitedly deemed to be the “absolute most perfect tree!”, he couldn’t help but preen his face feeling a bit warm from the attention and praise you showered him with.
He’d hauled the tree up to the check out where it was bundled while he paid, and then carried it over his shoulder out to the Bronco. You’d trailed behind him carrying the wreath you’d picked out humming along with the music.
“Is there such a thing as a competence kink? Because this,” you had mused gesturing to him tying the tree down in the back, his hands tingling, “is definitely doing it for me.” He had just grinned and shaken his head at you, his face heating up a bit. However, he couldn’t help but flex a bit more for your benefit as he finished up.
And when you made him pull off the road less than 10 minutes later, to indulge in that new self-discovery with your mouth around his cock, well that was very much for his benefit.
Now you’re with him at his place.  You guys had wrangled the perfect tree into the house and had gotten it set up in front of his windows in the living room near the upright piano he had tucked in the corner. He loved the smell that was filling the room and the way you’d lit up once it was in place. If he had his way, you’d be around all the time.
Bradley could hear you singing along to the Christmas album he had picked up that was playing on his Dad’s old record player as you worked on putting together some hot toddies in the kitchen. You had put him on light duty, and he was determined to make it the best-looking thing you’ve ever seen.
He worked going round and round the Christmas tree, the lights all shining merrily. He took his time making sure to wrap and tuck the lights around the branches, the cozy glow filling his chest with warmth.
But the longer he worked the more he was starting to get worried that he was coming down with a bug or something, his face starting to feel slightly feverish. His throat getting thick and uncomfortable.
He’d noticed it earlier at the tree lot, but didn’t want to give it too much thought. The Navy had ruined his Thanksgiving plans with you and he didn’t want to let you down again. He worked to string lights on a few more branches adamant to push through for you. 
“Sweetheart,” he reluctantly called out to you, “I think I might be coming down with something. I’m not feeling too hot, and my throat is kinda scratchy.” The guilt was starting to settle in the pit of his stomach, maybe if he rested now he could keep it from getting too bad.
He turns to see you coming out of the kitchen with two steaming mugs in your hand, your eyes going wide.
He turns back to the tree looking to see if he accidentally fucked something up. It was his first time with a real tree, maybe the lights needed to be strung differently.
“Bradley. Oh my god.”
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You had just put the finishing touches on the hot toddies and were already walking out of the kitchen when Bradley had called out to you. Those beverages were quickly abandoned on his coffee table as you propelled yourself towards him.
His face was brightly flushed and his eyes were shade of red that made your own itch in sympathy. You reach up to tug at the collar of the flannel he was wearing to get a better look at the skin of his neck and chest. The scars on his neck were standing out in contrast to his reddened skin.
“Sweetheart, what are you doing?” Even his voice was sounding a bit scratchy. You ignore him in favor for undoing the buttons at the cuff and rolling up the sleeve of his shirt, trying to not let yourself get too anxious. “You tryin’ to get me to put these lights up topless like some kind of sexy Santa?”
You shush him as you finally get the sleeve rolled up when your suspicions are confirmed, his thick forearm is absolutely covered in angry looking raised red welts. 
“Oh no. Roos, baby. You’re breaking out.” Already pulling him away from the 7-foot issue occupying the living room and heading towards the kitchen, “I think you have pine tree allergy.” 
He finally looks away from your face and down to his arm, a deep furrow settling over his features, “Oh fuck.” You get him seated at his oval oak dining table grabbing your phone to figure out what to do next.
“Yeah, ‘Oh fuck’,” you repeat back to him eyes skimming the information on the page you clicked into.  You’ve always been the type to take charge in a crisis, this would be no different. You’d make sure he’s taken care of the way he needs to be. The way he deserves to be.
“How’s your breathing feel? Is your throat feeling tight or like it’s closing up?” you ask looking up at him.
His red-rimmed honey eyes seem to shift focus like he’s lost in thought for a brief moment.
“Rooster.”
He shakes his head. “Sorry, baby,” he says a bit bashfully. “I’m used to being the one levelheaded in stressful situations, but you should see the intensity on your face. I think you coulda been a pilot.”
“Bradley, I’m flattered. Truly,” you’ve learned that he isn’t the type to say things he doesn’t mean and you respect the hell out of what he does. “Although I’m sure there are a few more qualifications I’d have to pass than that,” you reply lightly, petting the back of his hand resting on the table. “But I need you stick with me here. I just need to figure out if we need to get you to the ER or not.”
He nods. “It’s a little thick, but not like it’s going to close up. And really scratchy, ‘s all.”
“Ok, that’s good. That’s good,” you repeat again more to yourself than him. 
You love this man so much, and he deserves the world. This is the last thing you would have wanted for him and his very first, and last, real tree.
You can still hear the record playing in the background as you try not to gnaw on the inside of your cheek working to put your game plan together.
After firing off a quick text to Jake, you quickly pop upstairs to Bradley’s medicine cupboard, hoping that he has some antihistamines tucked away in there. You breathe a sigh of relief when you see the pink box, grabbing it you tear off a couple squares from the silver lined sheet to bring back to him.
He’s still sitting where you left him at the dining table. He’s slumped down in the chair his mouth pulled down at the corners, and you think it’s probably because he’s not feeling the greatest right now. You hand him the meds and a fetch him a glass of water, watching as the tendons of his throat flex as they work to swallow the pills down. The red welts have finally made an appearance there too, and are an angry contrast to his usually golden skin.
“Let’s get you out of these clothes, hmm?” You bend down to catch his eyes with your and holding out our hands to him. He nods once taking your smaller hands in his as he lets you pull him up. 
You help him to unbutton and remove the flannel shirt trying to avoid further contact with the hives on his body, not wanting to cause him anymore discomfort. Once his wide chest and arms are uncovered, you work his jeans down his thick thighs leaving him in his tight black boxer briefs. There’s nothing more than you love than being up close with Rooster’s body, but right now you’re on a mission and can’t be distracted by all the skin before you.
While you’re still feeling concerned for him, you can feel your anxiety starting to settle a bit from where it was at earlier. You’ve got a plan, you’ve already checked off a few things, and you’ll be able to take a breath once Bradley is taken care of.
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He’s ruining everything with you. First Thanksgiving and now Christmas. 
How the fuck did he not know he was allergic to pine trees? He’s 35, he should known those kinds of things by now. Shouldn’t he?
He is frustrated as fuck laying on top of the king-sized bed in his darkened bedroom, the stinging of the hives on his arms and upper body were driving him crazy. God, his eyes itched and burned. Although, he couldn’t tell if it as from the reaction to the tree or from fighting the sudden urge to cry for the first time in a very long time.
The afternoon was not going as he had envisioned it. He wanted to sing some carols loudly while getting tipsy off hot toddies with you. Dance with you in between hanging ornaments on the tree. Maybe fuck you under the tree if he played his cards right, he wanted to be the one to get your tinsel in a tangle. 
All he had wanted was to make you happy. You weren’t spending Christmas with your family, and he didn’t want you to miss out on anything being in California with him instead. He was really excited about the holiday for the first time in what felt like forever, and it had everything to do with you.
“Do you have any oatmeal here?” You had asked him not too long ago, and it was all he could do to point you in the right direction as the guilt was eating away at him. Once you had found it, you had sent him away to go upstairs to get him further away from the tree. His strong, capable, and pretty girlfriend was left to deal with the mess downstairs without him. 
He could hear the whir of the blender and wondered what you were up to. Sulking at the fact that all he could do is wait for the antihistamines to kick in, and hope that he’d be feeling better soon so that he could help you take care of things.
“Bradley? Baby, are you awake?” You entered the dimly lit room cautiously, approaching him gingerly on the bed and holding a large bowl with something fluffy and powdery looking in it. He hadn’t heard you come up the stairs.
He loved the sound of your voice. He loved it in the morning when it was thick with sleep, how excited you got when you were talking about something you were passionate about, and he especially loved the breathy whispers and words of encouragement from you in his ear late at night when he was moving so deep within you. What he didn’t love was being the reason you were so anxious, that he was at fault for why your tone was so laced with concerned. 
“Yeah,” although he was starting to feel sluggish, “’m still awake.” He felt your cool hands on his face and leaned into your soothing touch, pressing a kiss to your palm.
“I’m going to make you an oatmeal bath,” you informed him gesturing to the bowl in your hand. “From what I’ve been reading online that should help calm down the hives, hopefully stop them from spreading anymore.’
“Okay, Sweetheart,” he sighed. He can hear how pitiful he sounds, but right now his girl is the only thing that is making him feel good, and he will do anything you ask of him.
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You set about turning the taps on for the large tub in the bathroom, twisting the handles to get the water to come out at the right temperature. Once you were satisfied, you swirled in the oat powder you had made watching as the water turned cloudy, then headed back into the bedroom to get Bradley.
“Let’s get you in the tub so you can soak for a bit, yeah?” He looks so miserable alone stretched out on the bed. “It’s not too hot, and it should help you feel better,” you help him to sit up placing a kiss to the lines of the scars on his cheek trying to comfort him.
Ever the soldier, he dutifully follows you into the bathroom. Once he is stripped of his briefs and comfortably situated in the milky mixture, his eyes flutter closed as he reclines back, leaning his head against the ledge of the tub. You move kneel on the floor next to him running your fingers through his sun-streaked waves.
Your little pocket of peace is disturbed a few minutes later by the ding of your phone.
“Jake just got here,” you announce filling him in on the next part of your plan, “He’s going to help me with the tree.” 
“’posed to be my job,” Bradley sulks making a petulant sound in his throat. You can’t help but let out a gentle tsk while fighting back a small smile at his response.  
“I just want you to relax here and let the oatmeal do its thing. I’m going to get things wrapped up downstairs it shouldn’t take too long, and then I’ll come back to check on you.”
“Mmhm, fine,” he sighs as you press a kiss to his forehead.
You let Jake in and he is quick to jump in taking over by unwinding the lights off from the partially lit tree. He’s even quicker to haul the massive thing out of the house and into the back of his truck, as the new owner of the 7-foot Noble Fir. After the tree is deposited, he heads back in and helps you coil the lights back up so they’re not in a tangled mess on the floor making some light small talk because he can tell your mind is elsewhere. 
On his way out the door he shoots you a cocky salute, a shit-eating grin already plastered on his face.  “You can thank my new Trot PR for how quickly I was able to run back to my place after I got your SOS text to get here as quickly as I did, Darlin’,” he drawls. 
You flip him off, but tell him to text you what meals he’d like you to make and bring over later in the week as thanks for his help. And with a quick kiss to his cheek, you shoo him out the door wanting to get back to your boyfriend.
After he leaves, you break out the vacuum and work on getting the needles off the ground before moving on to the laundry. You grab the pile of Bradley’s clothes from the floor in the kitchen where you had left them before stripping down to your underwear, throwing everything in the washer and turning it on to get rid of any potential lingering irritants.
You make you way back upstairs, stopping to slip on one of Bradley’s old UVA t-shirts and grabbing him a loose pair of navy sweatpants, before going in to check on him. He is still there soaking his head tilted back and eyes closed, just as you had left him. Thankfully the hives have seemed to stop their spread leaving his face untouched. His neck, chest, and arms still bearing the brunt of his allergic reaction.
You gently knock on the door to announce your presence, not wanting to startle him. “You ready to come out now, baby?” Before him you had never been a pet name person, but now all you wanted to be a source of comfort in his life. A soft place for him to land.
“Yeah,” he turns his head towards the sound of your voice, “I think I might be getting a bit prune-y, but that felt really good. Thank you, Sweetheart.” He has finally opened his eyes and looking right at you, with a smile small and soft, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 
You’re trying not to read into it too much, not wanting to let your anxiety get the best of you. You help him up from bath and use the handheld to first shower him off, grabbing a fluffy towel to help gingerly pat him dry. As he bends to pull on the sweatpants you had brought in you turn to rinse out the remaining oatmeal residue from the tub. He presses a kiss to the back of your head as he passes by you to make his way back to the bedroom.
By the time you’re done he has already climbed into bed, the comforter on your side already pulled back as he reaches out for you to get in with him. The white percale sheets you had helped him pick out were cool and luxuriously soft to the touch, and you feel yourself release the breath it felt like you’d been holding since you entered the living room holding those long forgotten hot toddies.
Bradley is quick to lace your fingers together and tuck his face into the space between your neck and shoulder, his mustache ticking the soft skin of your throat there. For all of his golden retriever energy, he is soaking up your affection and attention like a lap cat as you slowly rub your free hand up and down his broad back.
However, he’s still entirely too quiet. Your lips press tightly together on their own accord as you begin to think that there’s something more on his mind that he’s not sharing with you than just the effects of the hives and double dose of Benadryl.
You’re about to speak up when he beats you to it, “I’m so sorry, Sweetheart. I just wanted you to feel at home and now I’ve ruined Christmas.” You’ve never heard his voice sound so small.
Oh. Oh no.
“Bradley, please look at me.” 
You lean back a bit as he removes his face from the spot it was tucked into and study his beautiful yet troubled looking eyes. “Is this why you’ve been so quiet? Please tell me you haven’t been spiraling thinking you’ve ruined anything.” He looks away, and you feel your brows scrunch together.
You cup his cheek in your hand, running your thumb down the cleft of his chin, “I love you so much and we’re going to have such a wonderful Christmas together, a tree is a nonissue here, baby. You matter more to me. I hope you know that.” His gaze finally meets yours and you continue on, “I need you to hear me. You’ve got absolutely nothing to apologize for. Nothing is ruined and nothing that happened today is your fault. Ok?” Nodding your head, needing for him to understand and let go of his misplaced guilt. 
You see the exact moment he absorbs and believes everything you’re saying to him, his shoulders releasing the tension that had gathered there. “Ok, I hear you.” You lean into him to place a tender kiss on his lips. “I love you so much,” he breaths against your mouth.
“I love you too,” you say pressing one more lingering kiss to his lips before encouraging him to settle his head back down again. He reaches for your hand, guiding it to his hair, prompting you to comb your fingers through his curls. 
“Now that we’ve settled that, how are you feeling? What else can I do to help?” 
“You’ve done so much for me,” he murmurs kissing your neck gently. “’M just tired now and want to hold you for a bit. The Benadryl is starting to kick my ass.” He pauses for a moment, “But maybe we can order some pizza, Sweetheart? And put on one of those Christmas movies you like? Y’know the ones where the people live in a town is named something like Tinselville and their dogs fall in love?” He asks his voice sounding a bit boyish and hopeful. 
You can’t help but let out a giggle because, really, his description is not too far off. You can feel his smile against the side of your neck as you turn the tv on.
“You can have whatever you like, handsome boy. Pizza and Oscar quality Christmas content, it is.” You grab your phone unlocking it and opening up to the delivery app, when Bradley plucks it from your hand tossing it to the side and placing his in yours instead.
“Order from mine instead, it’s my turn to take care of you,” he states slinging his arm low over your hip.
You click the button on the side to wake his phone up only to see your face smiling back at you on his lockscreen. Nose bright from the cold, surrounded by trees, and wrapped up in a scarf your mom had loaned to you since you hadn’t brought any practical winter-wear home with you.
It’s the picture that Bradley has sent himself the other night at the bar, and you’re flooded with a rush of affection for the man nestled against you. You notice his wallpaper is still the picture of you and him from this Halloween when you’d surprised everyone by dressing up as him, he’s kissing you squarely on the mouth while grabbing a handful of your ass. It was one of your favorites too.
You’d just finished submitting the order, when a text from Jake comes through, and you roll your eyes.
Those 5th Gens didn’t get you, but you’re taken out by a fucking a Christmas Tree. Would hate to see what one of those tree shaped car fresheners would do to you.
You’re not going to let him come for your boyfriend, even in playful roasting, when you just managed to picked his spirits up. Not tonight, Hangman. And you set to typing your response with your one free hand, the other still carding through Bradley’s curls. 
Listen up, Lieutenant Turkey Trot. I was planning on surprising you with a bottle of that Texas bourbon you like when I swing by with the food later this week, but now that’s up to you. Do with that what you will... xx
Not bothering to wait for a response you hand Bradley back his phone only to see it light up again. “Lieutenant Turkey Trot,” he snorts, “Damn. Hangman apologized. And he says he wants a lasagna and your chicken and dumpling casserole.”
Southern men are too easy. Nothing is as important to them as food and their mamas. You smile smugly to yourself, making a mental note to go to remember to stop by that speciality liquor store by your place.
The food is delivered not too much later, you and Bradley eat in bed the box sitting between you while making fun of the plot of the movie you had turned on. You can tell the Benadryl is staring to win when Bradley’s running commentary tapers and his breathing begins to even out.
“It’s ok to go to sleep, baby.”
“Just resting my eyes, wanna see if they figure out why the poinsettias aren’t blooming.”  
“You should get your rest,” you gently press, “I’ll set record it and you can find out tomorrow.”
“You’re gonna stay the night, right?” He asks sleepily as he concedes and begins to burrow down into his bed.
“Of course. If you want me here, I’ll stay.” Truth be told, you liked his bed better than yours. You’d even went back to the shop where you’d helped Bradley pick out his sheets from and bought the same percale set for your place in an attempt to help you sleep better.
You set an alarm for earlier than you’d like, remembering you have a meeting first thing in the morning. “I might have to leave a bit earlier than usual though,” you mention softly, “Since I’ll need to go to my place before I have to head in to the office.” You hadn’t originally planned on staying over due to your early morning and now you were kicking yourself for not grabbing a few things to keep in your car just in case.
“Yes. Stay,” he murmurs and reaches out to you, wrapping his arm around your midsection and pulling you to his chest. You let your fingers trace lightly down his forearm, feeling the hills and valleys caused by the welts that litter his arm. He lets out a hum of contentment in response, you’re pressed so close to him you can feel the vibrations of the sound from his chest against your back.
You think you’ve finally lost him to sleep when he mumbles already half gone, “Why don’t you keep more things here?” You can feel his warm breath against the back of your neck.
“How much were you thinking? You saying you want to share a drawer with me?” you lightly tease.
“Bring it all,” he sighs, “Want you here.”
The sound of his soft snores filling your ear only a couple minutes later.
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You don’t bring up Bradley’s half-asleep musings, you won’t hold him to anything said under the influence of the antihistamines. While the thoughts of moving in and living with Bradley made your heart beat a bit faster, you kept those hopes tucked away just for yourself.
It was now a week after the pine tree debacle, Bradley’s hives were quick to clear up after a couple days and a few oatmeal baths later. Your skin was still reaping the benefits of the oatmeal too after he managed to coax you in with him one evening. 
He had texted you earlier in the day asking for you to swing by his place after work. You knew the door would be unlocked for you, and you let yourself in.
“That you, Sweetheart?” He called out from nearby, you can hear the sounds of some crooner singing in the background.
“Yeah, it’s me." You set your purse and work tote down before bending to undo your heels at the door. “Hey, I was thinking on my way over here, I bet lots of places still have artificial trees left in stock that we could get. I feel like we need a Christmas redo.” You get one off and begin working on the other, “I was planning on getting one to liven up my place too, maybe I can find one of those ostentatious pink ones I tried to talk my parents into getting and fulfill a lifelong dream.” You say that last part with a little laugh.
You finally win the battle against the top buckle of your cute shoe finally kicking it off and wiggling your toes out, “Ooh! Maybe we can go to that cute cocktail bar off 17th afterwards? One of my coworkers was talking about their new seasonal drinks today and it seems festive.”
You fish your phone out of your purse and make your way to the living room, “That is if you didn’t have anything planned.”
Your voice trails off at the end because when you round the corner you find Bradley in his living room looking very proud with a self-satisfied smile on his face already standing next to a Christmas tree.
A very large, very fluffy, pink Christmas tree.
You stand there entirely stunned. The juxtaposition of your tall, handsome naval aviator next to this truly over the top frosted tree has your brain working overtime. The entire room is cast in a dreamy glow from many strands of white lights he had already spun around it.
“I still feel bad that about what happened the other weekend, and I wanted to make it up to you. At the bar, I heard you telling Phoenix that you always wanted a pink tree, so I hope this is similar to what you hand in mind.” He seems to be getting a bit nervous now, since all it seems you can do is just blink at him. He reaches around into his back pocket pulling out a small tube, “I even got some of those scent stick things to tuck in if you-” 
He doesn’t get to finish since you’ve launch yourself at him.
“Bradley!” He catches you easily with one arm as you begin peppering his face with kisses.
His laugher fills the room and his grin lights up his face at your reaction, “Are you happy, Sweetheart?”  
“I’m the happiest! Oh my god! Are you for real?” you exclaim in between kisses. You stop the assault on his face to take it in your hands, “Seriously though, there is nothing to feel bad about. You’re what matters most to me. I mean, yes, I absolutely love this. But you should have what you like too.”
He takes a step back, with you still in his arms and propped up on his hip. He thoughtfully studies the tree in front of you both. “Yep. This is definitely the perfect tree,” he declares proudly, “It’s full and girthy. Has some good gaps, and look at that top. Straight as an arrow. Although we might need to get some more decorations for it, but I got it started.”
You look from him back to the tree puzzled, since you don’t see anything on it aside from the lights. He walks you both closer, and pulls off what looks to be a strand of curling ribbon with a shiny silver object dangling from it from a branch on the tree. 
A key.
He sets you down back on your own two feet, holding you close against his body bringing his forehead to yours. “I meant it, Sweetheart. Bring it all. There’s nothing I want more than for you to be here. All the time. With me. You’re the only thing on my list this year, you’re all I want. Will you let me give you more than a drawer?” His honey brown eyes gazing at you hopefully.
You already knew what your response would be even before he pulled that key from off the tree, and the answer must be all over your face because Bradley’s face breaks into a beam as he picks you up and spins you around.
The choice has always been easy with him, it’ll always be a yes.
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Happy Holidays, everyone!
Causally hyper-fixating over all things TGM at bradshawburner
You can find the prequel to this story here!
Find out what happens during their second Christmas together here!
You can read more of my stories here!
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