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#I started this while craving all the food I mentioned
hitomisuzuya · 2 days
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Yandere!Kunikuzushi (Scaramouche) x fem!reader. Smut. Breeding kink. Aphrodisiac. Creampie. Finger sucking. One mention of killing. Scaramouche peeks through occasionally.
Yandere Kunikuzushi won the poll. I hope this measures up to the first part. Kuni cumming inside for the first time.
As much as Kunikuzushi enjoyed devouring your pussy to his heart's content, he was starting to crave more. There was something so intensely arousing about cumming inside of you. He knew very well that it ran the risk of pregnancy, but your hips just looked so fucking perfect. Perfect for breeding.
He didn't want just that though. Oh no, he wanted so much more. He knew you would agree without hesitation to let him cum inside of you, you were starting to crave him as much as he craved you.
Kunikuzushi wanted you to look him right in his eyes, your eyes glassy with lust and desperation for him and tell him you wanted him to cum inside. He'd read about aphrodisiacs. He deduced that this would be the best method to get you say that without him asking first.
His cock throbbed thinking about folding your body into a mating press, being caged in by him and doing nothing but moan and cry for him while he pumped his cock inside of you, his cum seeping and coating it more with every thrust.
Kunikuzushi put his plan into action once he obtained the aphrodisiac capsule from a small pharmacy. You were distracted with a book when he broke open the capsule in the drink he got for you from the kitchen.
Now all he had to do is sit and wait, anticipating when the symptoms of the aphrodisiac setting in started to show.
He counted every second until he saw you shift restlessly on your bed. It looked like you were having a hard time concentrating. "Is something wrong?" He asked innocently as you closed your book and set it aside.
Your cheeks were flushed, and your breathing was sort of labored. You looked at him and said, "I feel really warm, and my body aches," You said, moving closer to him on the bed.
"Oh? Do you want me to go and get a doctor?" He asked, putting a hand on your forehead.
You shook your head. "No, I don't. Did you know that I have always thought your fingers are beautiful?" You said, glancing longingly at his fingers.
Kunikuzushi smirked. You were already so far gone. There was only one thing on your mind now. And that was him. He could see it in your eyes. "Oh?" He said, brushing his fingers on your lips. "You look like you have something rattling around in that pretty head of yours."
"Mhm," You said, the tip of your tongue flicked out against his fingers, sending a shiver through him. "I want to suck on your fingers, and then," You stroked his wrist, "I want you to cum inside of me."
Kunikuzushi felt such a rush course through him. You were just so fucking addicting. You would never say that to the blacksmith who he overheard telling his friend about wanting to ask you out. And then in the next breath said very vulgar and distasteful things about you.
That man was by now weighed down by rocks and dismembered, serving as fish food. Never to be found. He bled out so fast, but a pound of flesh was the only payment he would accept for insulting your honor in such a disgusting manner.
Kunikuzushi pushed his fingers into your mouth, savoring the happy moan that you muffled on his fingers. He pumped them in and out of your mouth, his fingers exploring as you sucked.
You gagged as he pushed his fingers into your throat. He was fast getting swept up in the dominant power he held over you. He could've made you choke over and over on his fingers and you would've gladly kept sucking once you recovered.
Your tongue lapped and curled, worshipping on his fingers. When he couldn't ignore the throbbing in his cock any longer, he took his fingers out of your mouth. Capturing your lips in a heated, open mouth kiss, his hands hastily removed your clothes.
Kunikuzushi indulged in every fantasy he'd jacked himself off having about you. This would be the first time his cock was ever inside of you. It felt so good to just let go and further corrupt you. He needed to build you up to a certain point by making you cream over and over again on his tongue first.
You felt such comfort under the sheer weight of his dominance as he bit and sucked bruises that would rapidly darken on your skin. Everyone would know you belonged to him. They needed to know. That way they wouldn't dare to fathom taking you away from him.
Your pussy felt so wet on his cock, your body folding so fragile and pliant underneath him as he bent you into the mating press he'd read so much about. He could tell your body struggled to tremble in pleasure as he pinned you down, caging you underneath him.
His hands tightened possessively on your wrists, holding them down on the bed, and using them as leverage to grind his aching cock between the drooling folds of your cunt.
"Say it again," He groaned, teasing the head of his cock against your clit. "Tell me you want me to cum inside again," Your pussy clenched around the tip of his cock, your hips jerking up to urge it against your entrance.
"Yes, Kuni, please! Cum inside of me!" You pleaded, struggling to grind against his cock. Need for him gripped your body, amplified by the aphrodisiac. You mewled, the sensation of his cock teasing against your clit sent made your body ache, and tremble more.
Kunikuzushi wouldn't dream of denying you. Especially not when he had dreamt of this moment so many times. With a husky groan, he pushed his cock inside of you.
"So wet," He moaned, his cheeks flushing from how lewd his cock sounded as your pussy swallowed it. "So tight. Clenching like a perfect slut on my cock," He pulled out just to bottom out again, his cock throbbing as your walls squeezed around it.
Kunikuzushi enjoyed watching you struggle to buck your hips up as his kissed his cock into your sweet spot. He felt your body melting under his with every thrust of his cock, surrendering yourself to him completely.
You looked so cock drunk, drool pooling from the corner of your mouth as you moaned shamelessly. Shamelessly for him. It sent him reeling that you made someone like him capable of feeling such filthy human emotions.
The closer he got to cumming, the more he started to whimper with raw need. It sounded so disorienting to him that he had to kiss you, forcing his tongue into your mouth to muffle them.
The way your fingers intertwined with his, squeezing like you were clinging to him was pure bliss to him. The mewl of pleasure when he emptied his cock inside of you, unable to stop thrusting down into you was utterly addicting.
He wondered if you could even hear yourself babbling about you were his and only his fucked so dumb on his cock.
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valiantstarlights · 1 year
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Hob is a chef who owns a food truck selling authentic Indian food, and Dream is someone who doesn't really eat well. (He had a bad breakup a year ago and it caused him to eat less. He's trying to eat better with his siblings' help.)
Dream agrees to go with Death to one of those food truck fairs for her birthday. There's not a lot of people yet so some of the staff offer them free samples to entice them into eating more from their food truck.
Death is having the time of her life, and she thanks Dream for going with her even if this isn't his thing at all.
Dream says that he enjoys the atmosphere (a.k.a. no huge crowds yet) and appreciates the aesthetic of the food they have already eaten: the understated elegance of the mango bingsoo, the dancing bonito flakes on top of the takoyaki, and the satisfying cheese pulls from the megruli khachapuri.
Death, encouraged by his interest, asks him to pick another food that he likes the aesthetic of so they could try it next. Like before, it's understood that they'll share a serving so Dream doesn't have to worry if he can't eat a lot.
Dream agrees. He picks an appetizing-looking plate of butter chicken from a foodtruck selling Indian food near the edge of the fair grounds, where not a lot of people have ventured yet.
They are greeted enthusiastically by a very handsome man and Death does all the talking because Dream is distracted by his forearms and smile and manbun. (He's salivating, so he must be hungry. Right?)
The handsome man turns out to be both the chef and the owner, and he chats with Death while he prepares the food. His name is Hob. He quit his job at a fancy hotel because he wants to feel more connected with his customers and share the food that he loves cooking for his family. (Dream is falling for him the more he talks. He doesn't realize that he has yet to speak and has only been staring.) (Hob is highly intimidated by him but also thinks he's cute.)
The food is served. Death takes her first bite and says something like 'holy shit dude wow this is great' and Hob is just about to thank her when Dream takes his first bite and lets out the most sinful moan Hob has ever heard this side of his laptop screen.
He is (understandably) frozen in place, staring at this beautiful man devour his food while sounding like a porn star. He may or may not be violating food safety standards by getting hard in his jeans in the truck's kitchen area.
Death is astonished because Dream has never shown this much enthusiasm while eating before. Even when they were kids. She is now looking at Hob speculatively. Should she google 'how to politely ask a stranger to (please) marry your brother'?
Dream...honestly doesn't even notice anything other than how delicious the food tastes. When the plate is clean, and Death has only gotten to take that single bite at the start, he reddens and apologizes, but Death waves it off, and Hob says something like, "I have some dessert too, if you want."
Dream unconsciously licks his lips and says, "Please," in a voice that could either mean 'Yes, please, I want some dessert,' or 'Fuck me raw right now.'
Death, immediately picking up on the sexual tension, says, "We'd like some kulfi, but I'll take mine to go."
And Dream is like, "Sister, what--?"
"I just remembered Desire and I have an appointment to get our nails done so I have to go--oh, thanks, Mr. Gadling--bye Dream, love you, be safe!" And then she's gone.
Dream is left with Hob who is still holding the other kulfi in his hand, looking slightly stunned at Death's very abrupt exit. The kulfi is starting to melt. Dream, unthinkingly, leans forward and sucks the tip.
They both freeze and their eyes meet, Dream's pink mouth still on the kulfi. Hob gulps at the visual. Dream, still maintaining eye contact, licks it from base to tip, then starts sucking in earnest, eyes steadily darkening when he sees Hob's breathing becoming unsteady.
Hob hears some footsteps coming their way, potential customers from the sound of it. Hob hands Dream his kulfi and apologizes to the customers, saying that something came up and he has to close. Like, right now. Sorry for the inconvenience but this is really important.
He closes up in record time while Dream taunts him by enjoying his dessert. He's already sitting on the passenger seat of the truck when Hob climbs into the driver's seat.
Desire's text the next day reads: 'DREAM YOU SLUT IM SO PROUD OF YOU'
Destruction for some reason knows Hob's number and has texted: 'Break my brother's heart and I'll break your spine.'
Dream slowly but surely begins to eat better. How can he not, with all the support he has, and Hob there to love him even on his bad days?
Hob gets everyone's approval, even Destruction's, eventually. He's the best cook and most considerate brother-in-law ever.
When Dream passes by his ex while walking down the street one day, he realizes that he's alright now, and is definitely better off without them. He's actually thankful, because if not for them, then he might not have even met Hob. He doesn't greet them because he still hasn't forgiven them, but he also doesn't feel like bursting into tears anymore.
At the end of the day, when he gets back home, Hob is there to welcome him with a sweet kiss, a warm meal, and a lifetime full of love.
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ruggiezz · 7 months
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— MOST TO LEAST LIKELY TO GO TO MCDONALDS WITH YOU AT 3 AM : twisted wonderland
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[synopsis] twisted wonderland characters that would accompany you to mcdonalds at 3 am
[characters] all (romantic) + ortho (platonic)
[disclaimer] this post talks about food a lot and mentions of unhealthy food (in vil's and riddle's part)
[extra] i'm having way too much fun writing character's reactions
── Most likely
★﹕LILIA VANROUGE
Bold of you to assume he was sleeping in the first place. Lilia was playing the equivalent of Overwatch in Twisted Wonderland when you suddenly asked him to go to the nearest McDonald's. He agreed instantly, and now you're both on a date, with you eating fries and Lilia eating a strawberry sundae and a cheeseburger..
★﹕ORTHO SHROUD (platonic)
He agreed instantly. Can robots even feel tired in the first place? Ortho will search on the internet for coupons and promos, but first let him equip his eating gear; he wants to eat too. Everything for his best friend. By the way, he wants to buy something for Idia too.
★﹕ROOK HUNT
Rook got out of bed even before you even mentioned you wanted to go out, he woke up when he felt you were awake. Rook is a light sleeper; he can even feel when you wake up to go to the bathroom. If you really want a meal at McDonald's, who is he to say no? It makes him happy to see you happy, but he will stare while drinking his strawberry shake. Not a "I'm judging you" stare, but a "I like to see you enjoy your meal" stare.
★﹕MALLEUS DRACONIA
He has probably eaten McDonald's at least once because Lilia bought the whole of Diasomnia burgers. Alright, you're both going. Yes, he's still a little confused over why you would crave a really cheap burger at 3 am, but Malleus doesn't even care; the burgers are good and he enjoys indulging in human customs, plus he gets to see you smile. The only bad thing is that the employees got the fright of their lives when they saw the literal prince of Briar Valley enter the restaurant.
★﹕SILVER
Still sleepy, he agreed. There are times when he randomly awakes during the night, so he might as well spend it with you, even if it was at a fast food restaurant at 3 am. He'll order an iced coffee and some fries and listen to you while you speak about whatever comes to mind. You'll both have to make it quick though, he may fall asleep there, and you both need to get back before classes start.
★﹕DEUCE SPADE
He didn't even understand what you were saying; his mind was still foggy from being woken up so late. He said yes, not knowing what he was agreeing with, but a few minutes later he realized what he agreed to. Deuce, not wanting to have gotten your hopes up only for him to say no, got up and accompanied you anyway. He still enjoyed himself though, as long as he is with you, he's happy.
★﹕RUGGIE BUCCHI
He's tired because of how many errands Leona made him do yesterday, but you know what? He will still go. Food is food, and he could never refuse it. Leona lets him grab his credit card anyway, so order whatever you want, Leona will pay, even if he doesn't know that. It's not like he checks his credit card's expenses, so don't worry about it.
★﹕JACK HOWL
When he confessed to you a few months ago, he didn't expect that would mean signing up for you waking him up in the middle of the night, asking him to accompany you to eat fast food outside of campus. Still, he's your boyfriend, and he can't let you go alone, it's dangerous. Even if he doesn't feel like ordering anything, he will sit there with you until you finish your meal, chatting with you in the meantime.
★﹕ACE TRAPPOLA
You're lucky he loves you too much; he would have said no if you were another person. So now Ace is sitting at McDonald's, almost falling asleep while eating some nuggets. That one song they keep replaying will haunt him in his dreams; it got stuck in his head for like, a week. Riddle reprimanded him the next day for falling asleep during history class.
★﹕CATER DIAMOND
Out of everything he could have expected a person to say at 3 am, it certainly wasn't "I want to go to McDonald's". Cater takes a selfie with you inside and uploads it to his Magicam story, the close friends one, so Riddle doesn't realize he wasn't at the dorm. He still has no idea how you came up with this, but ok, it was for the funsies.
★﹕JADE LEECH
You're certainly unpredictable, aren't you? Jade stared at you for a good minute until he just got up, got changed, and went with you. Floyd has done weirder stuff during one of his mood swings; what harm can going to McDonald's do? He doesn't feel like cooking that late anyway. Just don't tell Azul you're both going to the competition, okay?
★﹕EPEL FELMIER
He had you repeat what you said twice to make sure he was hearing you correctly. You want to do what? Let him go back to sleep, please. Okay, whatever, he will accompany you, but make it quick. At least that's what he said before spending the next two hours chatting with you while eating. He sadly got caught by Vil when he came back. Rook snitched.
★﹕SEBEK ZIGVOLT
No, he has to make sure nobody attacks Malleus while he's sleeping. But with some reassurance from Lilia (and him asking Sebek to bring him a burger) and his love for you, he decided to accompany you. He'll ask for the biggest burger since he has a big appetite. He did enjoy it at the end; 10/10 would do it again (but he won't say that out loud).
★﹕KALIM AL-ASIM
He doesn't mind that you woke him up, and he would like to go, but there's a small problem: he isn't allowed to go anywhere without Jamil, which means he would need to wake him up. Jamil wouldn't be happy about that, and Kalim doesn't want to bother him either. So you both just order takeout and give the delivery guy a very generous tip.
★﹕IDIA SHROUD
Idia was awake, but he really doesn't want to go, and he's also farming for an event. Great, now he's craving McDonald's too. If you really want to go, you can have Ortho accompany you, but please bring him a chicken sandwich and some fries. You can use his debit card to pay.
★﹕TREY CLOVER
... What? What did you even dream about to crave McDonalds so late at night? Trey says you both can go on the weekend if you really want to, but go back to sleep, please. There's an important exam tomorrow, and you'll both be in trouble if you suddenly fall asleep in the middle of it.
★﹕FLOYD LEECH
He was not in a good mood after being woken up in the middle of the night. Floyd won't let you go, squeezing you so hard that you can't even move away from the bed. You're not going anywhere the whole night, and if you still want the meal, you can order some in the Mostro Lounge tomorrow.
★﹕LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
It's 3 am, what the heck. Leona says Ruggie can buy you some tomorrow; ask for as much as food as you want, but not at 3 am. He will fall asleep on top of you, so you can't even move, just in case you try to sneak out while he sleeps.
★﹕JAMIL VIPER
No, please, he's tired. He did so much work yesterday: laundry, cooking, folding clothes, tutoring Kalim, paperwork for an upcoming event, and preparing for an exam. He just wants to rest for at least a few hours. Go back to sleep, please. He promises he'll cook you a burger with some fries tomorrow. His cooking is way superior to fast food anyway.
★﹕RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS
"No, that's unhealthy", he says. Somebody buy him a happy meal or something, Riddle has probably never eaten fast food in his life. Either way, there's class tomorrow, and he would never forgive himself if he arrived late to a lesson. So no, you aren't going anywhere.
★﹕AZUL ASHENGROTTO
Why would you want to eat at McDonalds when he has a literal restaurant? Are you trying to buy from the competition? Now Azul is offended at 3 am, so offended that he dragged you to the kitchen to make you a meal resembling the McDonald's one just to prove Mostro Lounge's food is better.
★﹕VIL SCHOENHEIT
Excuse you? Not only did you interrupt his beauty sleep, but you want to go eat McDonald's'? It's 3 am, please go back to sleep or you'll get dark circles. Lack of sleep is bad for your skin, and he won't take the risk, much less to eat unhealthy food.
── Least likely
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Male Companions Responding To Your Pregnancy Announcement
Here are some headcannons I have for the Male Companions + Zevlor responding to your's/Tav's pregnancy announcement. I have a few more ideas I want to write out for the week so we will see how that goes.
Wyll
Legit might start crying when you tell him you’re expecting.
He smiles so big and bright before scooping you up in his arms and spinning you in a circle.
He is (carefully) rubbing his face against your stomach and whispering to the little baby bump.
He will not let you do anything on your own once you have the smallest of bumps.
He understands you don’t need his help, but he will offer it no matter what.
Once you get later on in your pregnancy, he is constantly rubbing your belly and telling them stories of his adventures as the Blade of Frontiers.
Once you get close to your due date, he will not leave your side cause he doesn’t want to miss anything.
He is there to hold your hand and help you anyway he can when you go into labor. Whispering how well you’re doing and that you are almost there.
Once the baby is there and in his arms, he melts. He doesn’t want to let them go.
Seeing you holding the little baby is his favorite thing.
“Oh darling. You have done so wonderfully.” Looking down at the little child, his child, wrapped in blankets and sleeping peacefully in his arms. “You have given me everything I could ever hope for.”
Astarion
He has heightened senses due to being a vampire so he can smell something different about you long before you tell him, but he doesn’t know what it up.
He thinks you’re playing some sick joke when you first tell him you’re expecting.
He just can’t wrap his head around it at first, but you wake up to his hands on your belly and whispering softly.
He comes around to the idea of you both having a child slowly but once he does, he is making sure you have the best healers available.
He even asks Shadowheart and Halsin to check on you and make sure everything is going well.
He becomes obsessed with your belly as it gets bigger, wanting to constantly be touching you in some way.
When he feels the first kick, he is startled but you see the largest grin on his face.
“Oh, a little fighter on our hands it seems.”
When you go into labor, he is afraid but he sits behind you and lets you push against him.
He is whispering into your ear how wonderful you are doing and letting you squeeze his hand.
Once he hears the baby cry for the first time, he has an out of body experience.
He is looking over your shoulder at the little one as they are placed in your arms, with you cooing down at them.
“Lover… They look perfect.” Reaching around you and letting them grab hold of his finger with his tiny hand. “I swear, I will always be there for them.”
Gale
He stares at you for a moment with wide eyes when you tell him before breaking out in a smile and scooping you into his arms.
He will want to announce to all your companions as soon as possible. He wants to share your good news with everyone.
He starts planning everything; the nursery, what colors everything should be, what foods he is going to be cooking for you through the pregnancy, everything you can think of.
Not to mention Tara is your little shadow and you’re pretty sure that she is reporting everything back to Gale.
He checks up on you multiple times a day, asking if you need anything or if you are craving everything for him to cook.
When you are laying in bed with him, he will be reading next to you and absently rubbing your belly.
When your belly gets bigger, he will want to have his arms wrapped around you while sleep with Tara curled up next to you.
He wants to be there when you give birth, he will not hear anything against it.
When you do go into labor, he is right by your side and wiping your forehead with a wet towel.
He honestly gets in the way of the midwife with his constant questions, but they force him to sit next to you.
When the baby is finally born, he wants to be the first to hold them and cradle them in his arms.
“Oh dearest, look at them. Look at how perfect you have done.” His soft smile and a twinkle in his eyes as he looked down at the child, wanting nothing more in the world.
Halsin
Halsin knows before you do that you’re pregnant. He picks up on the nausea, the tiredness, and he can smell it on you.
He waits for you to tell him though, giving you the privacy even though he is bursting at the seams with excitement.
He is making sure you’re eating enough and getting enough rest.
You wouldn’t even need to list a single finger if you didn’t want to.
He makes sure not to be too far from you if you would ever need him.
He starts whittling little toys for the child, including a little bear for them.
When your belly gets larger and you start complaining of back pain, he will come up behind you and put his hands under your belly to help relieve the pressure with his chin resting on your shoulder.
From the moment you two lay down for the night he is constantly talking to your belly and rubbing it.
The first time he feels a kick he will grin and give the spot a soft kiss.
He makes sure to keep an eye on everything for anything that could go wrong but he is not against you having additional healers to check up on you.
When you go into labor, he wants to help the midwife with anything they need; water, towels, just about anything.
He also wants to be the one who cuts the cord and clean the baby right after they are born.
He holds them in his arms and marvels at how small they are compared to him before he hands them to you.
“My Heart, just look at them.” Halsin looking down at the child, slowly running his finger down their cheek as they sleep. “Just look at what we have made together.”
Bonus: Zevlor (because I love him and no one can stop me)
When you tell him the poor man’s heart stops for a second.
He is a stuttering mess, hands reaching for you trembling, but he pulls you into his arms and holds you close kissing you.
A million and one doubts that he will be a good father go through his head, but he doesn’t doubt for a second that you will be a good parent.
You have to reassure him and give him a lot of love.
He goes out of his way to make sure you’re taken care of during your pregnancy.
You mention you want a snack or sweet? He will come home with like 10 of them.
You will wake up to him rubbing your belly as it gets bigger.
He eyes will be full of love and wonder when he feels them kick.
When you go into labor, he just can’t stand seeing you in pain and gets kicked out by the midwife.
But the moment he hears the first cry he will burst back into the room.
When the midwife hands the baby to him for the first time, he treats them as if they are made of glass.
“Oh sweetling.” Zevlor could feel tears pricking the corners of his eyes, blurring his vision as he held the newborn close to his chest watching them yawn. “You have given me everything.”
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grandline-fics · 6 months
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All That I Need
DESCRIPTION: When your presence is all they crave
WARNINGS: some suggestive themes, some jealousy in Shanks’ mostly fluff overall
CHARACTERS: Luffy, Zoro, Shanks| Sabo,Sanji
WORD COUNT: 1,413
A/N: Finally starting to feel better so I decided to finish this. Mostly indulgent and I hope you all enjoy
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
MASTERLIST
—————
LUFFY
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Long before you and Luffy even got together you knew he was solely motivated by his wants, childishly so. He saw a platter of food meant for everyone? He’d eat it all before anyone else got a chance to grab a fork. Someone tried to tell him he was too weak to beat them? Luffy had the first punch thrown before they could blink. If he wanted something he was vocal about it. It was a simplistic way to be and at least you and the crew always knew how to keep your Captain happy. There was never any guessing, even when he was unconscious.
Of course once again he’d pushed his body to the limit to win a fight and now he was dealing with the consequences. Chopper had tended to his wounds and you approached his now sleeping form with a tired but proud smile. You were used to this but still you couldn’t help but worry about the strain his body was being put through time and time again. “You know once he wakes, he’ll be shouting for meat and jumping around like nothing happened.” Nami muttered like a disapproving mother as she left and you let out a small laugh. 
Now close enough you lightly pushed the hair from his face, smiling to see that the mention of meat had made him grin in his sleep. Your worries all but left you now to see that. As long as he could smile, you would find the strength to do so too. You pulled your hand back and turned to leave the room, letting your significant -but reckless- other rest. Except you stopped when his hand clasped around your wrist. You turned in shock, he was awake already?
Your eyes widened to see that he was still unconscious. You were about to call for Chopper but all that could escape your lips was a gasp of surprise when you were abruptly pulled down onto the bed. Through muscle memory or pure instinct, Luffy lay with his arms around you the perfect balance of protectiveness and possessiveness in his hold. It was like this every night you both slept in your shared quarters. When his head lay against your chest while mumbling your name in in his sleep you smiled warmly, overcome with a sense of belonging and joy to know that you will always be something Luffy needed.
ZORO
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Zoro was frustrated; his form was too tense, nothing was landing the way he wanted, the way he needed to. If he was to get stronger, to become the best this wasn’t good enough. If he was in an actual fight and not training he’d be losing. Angrily he swore and let his weights fall loudly onto the floor. Storming out of the Crow’s Nest he sought the one thing he desperately needed to make this frustration and tension go away. Listening intently he heard your familiar laugh sound from the kitchen and dining room. Striding in he saw you listening to Usopp telling a story of the crew’s adventures from the early days before you’d joined. 
Just seeing you help Usopp cleaning up was enough to help his mood but still it wasn’t enough. He needed more, he craved you. Your warmth, your very essence and it was now he realised why he had felt so off. He hadn’t gotten enough of you today. With the watch rotations from the night before, usual morning chores, and then when Robin and Chopper had called you away to help them with their nonsense it had disrupted your usual time together completely. Now that he knew what his issue was, the solution was so simple. Wasting no more time he walked across the room with you in his sights. 
You’d blinked in confusion when Usopp trailed off in the middle of his story and looked behind your shoulder. Slowly you turned and smiled at Zoro, believing he’d only stop his training midway through for food or an equally important emergency. “Hey, is everything okay? Do you need something?” 
“Yeah. You.” Zoro stated firmly when he closed the distance. Before you could react, your boyfriend had his hands secured to your waist and pulled you forward so his lips could find yours, coaxing you into an increasingly hungry, intense kiss. Zoro savoured every moment of it, taking in every second and reclaiming the time he’d lost out on just being with you. As dizzying and as powerful the kiss was you could feel the shift in your lover; as subtle as it was you could tell he had been holding onto something that was making him more tense than normal. If this was what fixed it you weren’t complaining. When you finally pulled away to catch your breath, Zoro let out a huff of relief. 
Now energised and focussed, Zoro threw you over his shoulder allowing himself a smirk when you yelped at the sudden action. Knowing it was pointless to even pretend like you wanted to struggle out of his hold you enjoyed the luxury of Zoro carrying you out of the kitchen and up to the Crows Nest so he could finish his training. Whether you remained on his shoulder or just sitting to the side and watching it didn’t matter to Zoro. As long as he had you in his vicinity, one of his main motivations for getting stronger that was all that mattered.  
SHANKS
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“If you think you’re looking cool and brooding over here, I hate to break it to you Captain you look more like you’re sulking.” Beckman laughed from behind his mug of ale. Shank clicked his tongue in annoyance and took a slow sip of his own drink, watching as you talked and laughed with the new recruits of the crew. You’d all decided to stay the night at one of the islands under your protection. The first time for the new recruits to get to terms with how the Red Haired Pirates did things beyond just sailing the seas. It also gave everyone a chance to unwind and enjoy some shore leave. 
It was only natural that the new crew members would gravitate towards you, after all you were the go-between for them. You were the one they asked for help with things to avoid disappointing or angering their intimidating but inspiring Captain. They were still finding their place in the crew with the longer standing members and you’d promised them all it would take time and that they’d all been welcomed onto the crew for a reason. Still they all felt the most comfortable with you so far. Unfortunately your lover and Captain didn’t want to see it that way. He was jealous of them claiming your attention all the time and he missed you even though you hadn’t gone anywhere.   
Shanks’ eyes met yours when you looked over to check on him. He tried to keep his expression level but clearly it wasn’t convincing enough because you swiftly but politely excused yourself from the group you were with and stepped up to where your Captain was sitting. Slowly you turned your head towards Beckman and jerked your head. A silent request for him to leave you both alone. As much as he’d love to stay and watch you expertly handle the Pirate Emperor he knew to give you both some sort of privacy and left. 
With a tired sigh you slid into Shanks’ lap, throwing your legs over his and tucking your head under his chin. Wordlessly you took his mug of ale from his hand and coaxed his arm around your waist. “This is what you wanted right? Me all to yourself.” You asked with a smile before taking a sip of the ale. You knew Shanks better than most, he wouldn’t offer an explanation for his mood unless you started the conversation. His arm tightened around you and he chuckled softly. 
“Can you blame me? Your very presence is utterly intoxicating to me. Why would I want to share my treasure with anyone?” Shanks asked and you rolled your eyes at his words with a small smile. You did want to remind him that he had nothing to be jealous about, everyone knew you were an item but still it was cute to have him still be like this after so many years together. “I mean it you know. I can’t get enough of you, need you more than breathing.”
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writersdrug · 14 days
Note
COD men period comfort? 🥺
The way my period started right as I finished this... also, I have Endometriosis, so I wrote this with the idea that periods are very heavy and painful for the reader, sometimes making them bedridden. Shit's rough 🙃
CoD Headcannons: Comforting You While You're on Your Period
Fluff, slight nsfw, mentions of cramps and blood, mentions of fingerings, no "period? What's that?" behavior, these men are all educated, mentions of food anxiety, female anatomy
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Captain John Price
If this was a competition, Price would be the winner. He doesn't need to look at your tracker app to know it's around the corner, he recognizes the signs immediately. As soon as you begin to dissociate for more than a minute or two, accompanied by your grumbles of how you've been craving junk food lately, he knows it's coming.
He's very intuitive when it comes to your needs. He knows you'll want to call out of work the first few days, so he does it for you. That way, you won't be stressing over it the night before. He plugs in your heating pad (leaving the setting on off, for now), so it's ready when you need it. He fills your water bottle with cold water, he fills the nightstand drawer with iron and protein laden snacks, and he puts a fresh box of your preferred pain medication in there as well. The bathroom is stocked with pads/tampons, and he even makes sure that the remote to the telly is on the nightstand.
He forces you to stretch every morning. It's the one time he ignores your protests and drags you out of bed, insisting you would feel much better - and he was right every time. He'd have you sit with your feet pointed forwards, bending your back until you could touch your toes.
"Gonna join me, John?"
"Psh, you know I'd snap like a twig, love."
Then he'd have you on your hands and knees, kneeling beside you and slowly guiding you to stretch your arms and arch your back, keeping your bum in the air (let's be honest, he doesn't kneel behind you for this because he'd be keeping you in that position for a different reason). He'd have a hand on your lower back, whispering small praises as you groaned from the relief. Once you were in that position, convincing you to get up was another hassle.
He understands that you can have mood swings - he always reminds you that communication is best, and even if you aren't sure what you want, you should still talk to him. Let him know if you're feeling too overstimulated, if his presence is a bit too overbearing in that moment, or if you want him there - whether that's sitting in a chair next to the bath while you take a soak, his hand running over your hair, or if he's cradling you in bed, hands gently massaging your abdomen/lower back.
You feel a bit silly, sometimes - being treated like a porcelain doll. As you promised him you would, you communicate with John that you feel bad that he's pampering you so much, and that you can't exactly return the favour at the moment. He'd listen, never shushing you or interrupting you, and at the end of your venting, he'd assure you that not only is this his obligation as your partner, but it's also something he enjoys doing - looking after you when you need it most.
As for making it up? "We'll explore what options there are when you're feeling up t' it" (He's talking about ovulation week).
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Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
You tell Gaz when your period is coming. He's not as intuitive as Price, but he appreciates that you let him know, and he helps you plan for the next few days. You go shopping together, stocking up on snacks, meds, and Liquid IV (Gaz had originally introduced you to it, and now it's an essential when you're on your period).
He once bought you a period massager that you found online. You thought it was the best invention ever, with both a massage and a heat setting, but it never could compare to Gaz's hands. You eventually ended up putting it on a shelf in the closet after telling him through tears, all while he massaged your stomach, that it felt like you were replacing him, and you hated it. You wanted to throw the damn thing away, but he convinced you that you might change your mind later.
Gaz treats this time of the month like it's the most normal thing in the world. Of course, he pampers you, giving you cuddles when you want them and helping you through the emotional shipwreck in your mind, but he knows you don't like feeling like you're helpless. So he does it all in the most nonchalant way possible. He'll play video games with you as the both of you lounge in bed; whenever you want a snack, he grabs one for himself (partially because you mentioned once that you don't like eating by yourself, partially because he's always hungry).
He refers to your period in different ways each time it comes around. "Is it shark week?" "I got you some more tampons, babe, for the ritual." Or, his favorite, when he sees you scowling at your period tracker app: "Ya got mad cow disease again, luv?"
He'll watch true crime with you per your request, but he's not thrilled about it. You've had to correct him multiple times that it's not about the killing, it's about the mystery of solving each murder that intrigues you. More often than not, you'll look up from where you're laying on his chest, and he'll be watching the telly with a grimace.
"What's wrong, Kyle?"
"It was the landlord - guy looks fishy, and his alibi is shit."
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Johnny "Soap" Mactavish
Johnny understands what a period is - he's a smart man. However, when it comes to your cravings and raging emotions, he's like a devil on your shoulder. If you thought you were impulsive during this time of the month, he only adds fuel to the fire.
He comes back after a trip to the grocery store, announcing that he purchased everything you need for the next few days. The "everything" in question? Crisps, wine, and candy (your favorite candy, sure, but not much chocolate). You don't have the heart to tell him that, while you enjoy all the snacks and alcohol he bought, it's not necessarily the best food for your period - although, the part of your brain that was craving it was thanking him over and over.
You would be lying on top of him on the sofa, the telly playing a show that had been neglected by the both of you. He'd be rubbing your lower back with one hand and massaging your scalp with the other, listening to you as you tearfully explained how much you missed your childhood family dog, a husky named Janet.
"- and she was so cuddly and protective- *sniff*- and she- did I tell you, she used to howl when I cried, like- like she was crying with me? God, I miss her-"
"Sweetheart, why don' we just get ye a pup, eh? A husky, just like Janet, and ye can both howl together whenever ye feel like it."
"No- *sniff*- no, Johnny, we shouldn't-"
"Why not? It'll keep ye company when ah'm away. Ah've always wanted a pup myself, y'know."
It really didn't take much more convincing than that. The next day, Johnny was walking into the flat, holding a husky pup cradled in one arm, and a bag of dog toys and food in the other. You had already forgotten his suggestion to get the dog, and would have scolded him for being so impulsive, but the cuteness aggression had already set in. You squealed and ran over to Johnny, crying happy tears between peppering his face with kisses and cooing at the puppy. He had the proudest smile on his face, seeing how much happier you looked compared to the day before.
Oh, and if you tell this man your breasts are sore? He's running across the room, fast enough to break the sound barrier, to offer you a helping hand (or two).
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Simon "Ghost" Riley
Simon has to remind himself that, when you're on your period, you don't always think logically. He's extremely patient with you, but he isn't the best with words. Or, rather, he isn't well-versed in the backwards rationality that comes with your period.
"Simon, can we get Chinese?"
"Sure, luvie, if you want it."
"Will you eat some?"
"Honestly, 'm not really hungry. But we can get what you want."
"... no, I'm ok. Nevermind."
"Wha'? Why not?"
"I don't need it."
Simon still doesn't understand why you won't eat without him, but he knows not to question it. He does, however, order your favorite takeout anyways, and he'll feed it to you if you still insist that you don't want it. He may steal a bite or two if you let him.
Like every good partner, he understands what a period is, and he understands the pain and frustration it causes you. He's still never entirely sure of how to help you, and he often doubts that he's being helpful at all. But that's where his military experience came in clutch: you tell him what to do, and he does it. You want to cuddle? "Scoot over f' me, luv." You want time alone? No worries, he can do some of his own work, just shout if you need him. You're running low on tampons and medication? He'll drop whatever he's doing and run to the corner store for it.
Massage KING, and he doesn't even know it. He huffs and says you're just trying to flatter him when you tell him how good at it he is. He treats you like you're in a spa, too: he dims the lights, he makes you wear an eye mask, he'll turn on the fan because he knows you love the white noise... he'll kneel behind you as you lay on your stomach, and this man will deliver the most tender, slow, and soothing massage of your life. His hands are already so huge and warm, and he somehow flawlessly works you into a drooling puddle each time.
He can't lie: seeing you there, passed out and snoring, no longer complaining about your aches and pains, fills him with just as much pride as it does relief. He's happy you're feeling well enough to rest, and that he's the one to get you there. He'll slowly get up, covering your lower back with the heating blanket, before leaving to replenish your thermos with tea.
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König
Whenever you mention that your period is coming soon, he always panics a little. König is a strong soldier, not bothered or phased by much. But when it comes to you, he hates knowing that you're in pain, and that he can't do anything to fix it (despite how often you assure him that he's helping).
This man goes all out. He fills the fridge with healthy, colorful fruits and vegetables, meat, and a pitcher of your favorite drink. He has your heating pad ready to go by your bedside, along with two thermoses, one of hot tea and one of ice-cold water. He sets up a small tray in the bathroom with tampons, pads, fresh underwear, and even a few pairs of shorts. He has a fan in the corner of the room, pointed at the bed and ready to go if you need it. He even takes off work for a few days - he refuses to leave your side when you're in pain.
Like Ghost, he likes being told what to do. If you ask him to turn on the fan, to turn off the lights, or to refill your thermos, he's up and doing it before you can finish your sentence. He hangs on your every word like it might be your last (you'd think with how he acts while you're on your period, you might be dying). He snuggles you every second you're in bed, and despite it being a bit warm, you don't mind the constant affection.
He cooks for you no less than twice daily, and this man can COOK. In no way, shape, or form does König skimp on seasonings and portion sizes when it comes to you. He carries you to the kitchen and sits you on the counter so he can keep an eye on you while he prepares you a hearty, nutritious meal (he needs to make sure you're eating well, schatz, but he'll let you scrounge for lunch, if that's what you really want). Sits with you at the dining table and holds your hand while the both of you eat, listening to you talk. If neither of you have anything to say, or if you're dissociating, he'll just sit and enjoy the silence with you, occasionally brushing your hair from your face and leaning over to kiss your cheek.
Sometimes, he'll do some of his work in bed with you, if he absolutely can't put it off any longer. You were once snuggled up to him, half asleep in the crook of his arm as he typed away on his laptop. He would occasionally rub his large hand over your lower stomach if he heard you groaning in pain from your cramps.
"Schnuki?"
"Mm?"
"Do you want me to finger you?"
That just about made you bolt upright like a rocket. "What?!"
He pointed to his screen. "Everyone says it makes you feel better, no?"
"König, um..." You didn't hate the idea, but didn't he? "I thought you were working?"
"C'mon, liebe-" he closed his computer and put it on the nightstand, rolling on top of you. "Relax for me, I'll make you feel good..."
Please just let this man take care of you and tell him he's doing a good job, it's all he wants.
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Lucifer Morningstar x Pregnant!Reader Headcanons Part 2
I had a blast writing part 1, so here's some more headcanons of reader progressing through their pregnancy!
Warnings: Pregnancy Mention, Implied Smut
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- He doesn't have a pregnancy kink per say, but... seeing you pregnant with his child does things to him that he can't even begin to put into words. He's always found you beyond gorgeous, of course, it's just that now it borders on literal worship. Said worship will be expressed quite physically on a daily basis; he'll slide his hands over your middle, leave trails of kisses up and down your body, and catch himself staring multiple times even before the two of you get out of bed each morning. He can't even really believe that you've somehow managed to get more beautiful, but he'll consistently try to describe the depths of his devotion in song, gifts, and countless hours spent adoring your presence.
- He'll want to start preparing for all baby related events as soon as possible, in part because the arrival of another heir is going to be quite the occasion, but he also just wants everything to go perfectly. The official announcement will come with multiple days of celebration across Hell, including a massive party in the castle itself, and each event that follows will somehow manage to top the last. You'll get enough gifts to fill up multiple rooms, and so many cards with well wishes you could fill up an entire library, but Lucifer expects nothing less. Every ounce of his considerable power is dedicated to making sure you get the best of everything. This dedication also applies to the little things the two of you do together, like decorating the baby's room. He'll insist on hand crafting the furniture, the toys, and every decoration with you directing at his side, and he'll use the most magical materials at his disposal. Hand painting the walls with stardust is not out of the question.
- Things have changed a lot since Charlie was born, and he was previously unaware of the many technological advancements now available for expecting couples, specifically ultrasounds. He's amazed and wants to attend every appointment even more at the prospect of actually seeing your child before they're born. Of course, upon beholding the lopsided blob on the screen for your first check up, he's far more overwhelmed than he could have ever imagined. He can see little hooves and everything! The doctor doesn't quite know what to make of the King near to weeping at the sight of a being no larger than a peanut, but you take it all in stride. Once he finds out that pictures can be taken of the scans, he requests as many as he can carry, and his pockets are bursting with photos of Charlie and her not-yet-born sibling. He'll show them to everyone that does and doesn't ask.
- While he can be overly protective and his efforts to provide for you are more akin to spoiling, he's not at all without cause in doing so; carrying a child of Lucifer is no easy task. As your body becomes the epicenter for a developing power beyond imagination, you'll need him by your side with increasing frequency, especially once the baby's uncontrolled magic starts surging and affecting your reality. You'll be unharmed, but it's still quite nice to have Archangel level powers around to get things back to normal once you start inexplicably walking up the walls, speaking in dead languages or levitating random items with a glance. He takes it all in stride with humorous stories about how Charlie did the same before her arrival, though your cravings for increasingly esoteric rare foods do have him apologizing for the inconveniences of angelic biology, as even he needs a few days to acquire the rarer items your body demands.
- As delighted as he is to have another child, he can't help but be haunted by doubts of all he's done wrong as a father so far. No matter how much of it was out of his control, he fears everything that went wrong will happen again, and that he might just be gaining a second child to fail. It's only through your loving reassurance that he retains some faith in himself, and dares to believe he'll be a halfway decent dad to two children.
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theostrophywife · 5 months
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Hiii!!! Can I ask for a fluffy and a little bit suggestive imagine with az where his mate neglects his kisses for a whole day or however long you want and just make him grovel for a bit ???
crave.
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pairing: azriel x reader.
song inspiration: kisses by will joseph cook.
author’s note: baby boy azriel is back. please have some soft fluff to make up for the shadowsinger’s absence 💋
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The first time it happened, Azriel chalked it up to coincidence.
You were so frazzled that morning, frantically running around shoving your salves and potions into your bag while simultaneously pulling your healer robes on that you’d rushed past your mate in a dark blur. The door creaked open as you muttered something about an early delivery of triplets.
“Forgetting something, love?”
Realization flooded your features as you whirled around to face your mate. “Of course!”
Azriel grinned as you marched back into the kitchen. He tilted his head up, fully prepared for his goodbye kiss until you reached over and grabbed his coffee mug instead. The shadowsinger watched in confusion as you downed the entire thing within seconds.
“Thanks, babe!”
As swift as the wind, you were out the door once more, leaving your very confused mate staring at his now empty drink.
The second time it happened, Azriel started to fret.
After a brief meeting with Rhys, he headed into the city to drop by your clinic. With the delivery of triplets, Azriel figured that you’d probably had a rough morning. A problem easily fixed with your favorite comfort food: chocolate chip cookies.
You smiled when the bell chimed to announce your mate’s arrival. The grin on your face grew even wider when you caught a whiff of the sweet, sugary aroma of your favorite cookies from the bakery down the street.
The shadowsinger smiled, setting the brown paper bag down on the counter. “How did the delivery go, my love?”
“I’m glad to report that all three babies are happy and healthy,” you replied, digging through the bag and getting your greedy hands on the soft, gooey cookie. “As happy as I am about the successful delivery, I’m absolutely drained. Not to mention starving. Thank you for bringing the cookies, Az.”
“Anything for my mate.”
You beamed, splitting the chocolate chip cookie in half. “Wanna share?”
Azriel nodded, chuckling as you fed him a chunk. He did the same, staring at you with a lovestruck expression as he wiped the crumbs off of your face. The shadowsinger brushed your bottom lip, leaning in to give you a proper kiss.
The two of you broke apart as a loud clang sounded from the back of the clinic. Madja hustled to the front, barely acknowledging Azriel with a nod before tugging at your elbow.
“They’re hanging upside down and crying from the ceiling,” the older healer said. “This is the last time I deliver a set of batlings. Triplets, nonetheless. Mother save us all.”
“Sorry, Az. Duty calls. I’ll see you at home, my love.”
You smiled apologetically, inching closer towards the shadowsinger before an ear splitting wail nearly punctured your ear drums. Even Azriel’s shadows shied behind his shoulders.
“Wish us luck.”
With that, you were gone. Leaving Azriel pouting as he departed the clinic as kissless as this morning.
The shadowsinger brooded as he counted down the hours until you were home. Lack of affection was seriously impairing his ability to work. It had been a few hours since he’d sat down in his office to sort through reports and yet he couldn’t remember a damned thing that he’d read.
Azriel perked up when his shadows alerted him of movement in the front yard. He immediately raced down the stairs, past the kitchen and living room, feeling as giddy as a school girl as he opened the door. Instead of finding his mate, Azriel found his friends standing at his doorstep. He sighed, recalling that tonight was game night.
Cassian chuckled. “Don’t you look ecstatic to see us, brother.”
Nesta peered behind her husband, determination woven into her sharp features as she lugged a chess set under one arm. “Where’s Y/N? Your mate owes me a rematch.”
Azriel sighed. “She’s not home yet. Her and Madja delivered triplets and they’ve had their hands full all day.”
Rhys raised a brow, resting an arm around Feyre’s shoulder. “So that’s why you’ve been wearing that kicked puppy look all day. What’s the matter, Az? Missing your mate?”
Feyre elbowed Rhys. “Don’t mind him. I think it’s sweet that you and Y/N never really left the honeymoon phase.”
"I doubt their neighbors would call their honeymoon phase sweet," Mor added with a chuckle. "Our lovely friends are heathens, but also sickeningly adorable."
“You’re only saying that because you haven’t walked in on them breeding like bunnies in the bathroom at Rita’s,” Amren said, wrinkling her nose in disgust.
“Speak for yourself, Tiny Ancient One. You and Varian aren’t any better.”
Amren merely rolled her eyes at Cassian before marching into the living room. The rest followed suit, making themselves comfortable in Azriel’s home. Normally the shadowsinger loved hosting his friends, but all he really wanted tonight was to be alone with his mate.
Unfortunately for Azriel, it didn't look like his wish would be granted any time soon. The shadowsinger watched helplessly as his brothers ransacked the kitchen for wine. Cassian somehow managed to wrangle a tray full of cheese, meat, and crackers. Rhysand munched on the leftover cookies, frowning when crumbs spilled over the front of his doublet.
Azriel breathed a sigh of relief when his shadows alerted him of your presence. He shouldered past his friends, making a beeline for the door. The tension left his body the second he saw you climbing up the steps. Despite your busy day, you couldn't help but smile when you spotted your mate.
The shadowsinger looked a bit disheveled, his dark hair sweeping over those familiar hazel eyes. He had changed out of his leathers and into a baby blue sweater that you gifted to him last Winter Solstice paired with comfortable looking grey sweats that hung dangerously low, giving you a peek of the hard muscles and happy trail hidden underneath.
Gods, Azriel was beautiful.
"Hi, baby. How was your day?"
"Not as eventful as yours, love." Azriel cringed as the sounds of Casssian and Rhysand's hoots filtered though your home. "Our friends are here."
You chuckled. "You don't seem that excited about it."
"I was hoping to get you all to myself tonight."
"You get that every night, Az."
Azriel pouted. "Yes, but I missed you today."
You stood on your tiptoes, pulling him down by the front of his sweater. "Is that so?"
"Mhm," he hummed, placing a large hand on your hip. "You haven't kissed me all day. You owe me at least a hundred by now."
"A hundred?" you teased, smiling up at him. "Seems a little excessive, Az."
"I think it's only fair. I couldn't focus all day. I blame lack of kisses."
"Is that your professional diagnosis, shadowsinger?" Azriel nodded seriously, making you chuckle. "Well, in that case. C'mere, pretty boy."
Azriel's breath hitched as you brought him down to you, your noses brushing, lips firmly pressed against his cheek. You took his face into your hands and peppered kisses all over his face. Kissing his cheeks, his nose, his jaw, practically covering him in your signature red lipstick. Your mate beamed, relishing in your affection.
"For the grand finale," you teased, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip.
Your heart raced as you pressed your lips against his, giggling as Azriel brought you closer, circling his arms around your waist and lifting you up to his chest. He deepened the kiss, not caring that your friends were inside, not caring that your neighbors were milling about. All he knew what that there was nothing in this world that felt as good as your lips against his.
You smiled into the kiss, pecking his lips over and over again. Azriel grinned, his mood instantly brightening. "Only ninety nine more to go," he declared.
Wrapping your legs around his waist, you kissed the tip of his nose, leaving a bright red mark in your wake. "I'll give you infinite kisses, my love. Until you grow tired of me."
"I could never," Azriel replied, leaning in for a not so innocent kiss. "I crave you too much."
"I crave you too, Azriel. I always crave you." You sighed in satisfaction. "Do you think it would be awfully rude of me to ask our friends to leave?"
"Not at all," Azriel said, squeezing your bum. "Everyone! Out!"
You laughed as your friends filtered through the door. Nesta waved her chess set around, grumbling about your rematch. Cassian and Rhysand wore matching smirks while Feyre winked behind her shoulder. Mor shook her head, claiming a bottle of expensive wine as her payment. Amren took the bottle from the blonde and took a swig, completely unbothered.
You giggled, turning over to your mate. He was covered in red lipstick. As you tried to brush your marks away, Azriel caught your wrist.
"Don't. I like when you leave your mark on me. Shows everyone that I'm yours and yours alone."
"Oh?" You asked in a seductive voice, kissing right underneath his jawline. "Let me leave some more then, pretty boy."
"I won't say no to that, my love."
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munson-blurbs · 8 months
Text
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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15
Summary: You and Eddie finally get some much-needed alone time, and a confrontation at the Hawkins Preschool talent show tests your commitment to each other.
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), protected p in v, fingering, oral (m! receiving), lil bit of edging, broken condom, breeding kink, mentions of Eddie's past, bullying, fighting, Jason Carver's mere existence, mostly fluff and smut before the angst of the next two chapters
WC: 9.2k
Chapter 15/20
Divider credit to @saradika Cutie pie Eddie pic credit to @/sunceddie
--
You wake up to an alarm set a full hour later than it typically is on a Friday morning, and the extra rest has you walking on air. Or maybe this newfound floatiness comes from knowing Eddie will be arriving soon, the two of you playing hooky from work to spend the day together. Your insides ignite with a rebellious fire, like you’re skipping class to smoke cigarettes underneath the bleachers, rather than taking a paid sick day that you’ve rightfully accrued.
Sunlight streams through the window, just a bit brighter than the usual smears of pink and orange that you normally see when you awaken. And while you still have to drag your yet-to-be-caffeinated body out of bed, the walk to the bathroom seems slightly less daunting. 
You can’t let Eddie in fast enough when the intercom buzzes thirty minutes later. You were never naïve to the fact that dating a parent would mean having less privacy; what you didn’t know was how strongly you’d crave him. 
Your hands are all over him the moment he steps through the door, simultaneously too much and not enough. Fingers lazily drape across the nape of his neck, and you can feel that his hair is already frizzy from the early April rain. Your breath hitches when you catch a glimpse of the burgeoning outline along the seam of his gray sweatpants. 
His lips find yours easily, aiming to meet in the middle, but you press on your toes and bring your core to his. Your pajama top is thin; not sheer, but flimsy enough that he can feel the way you react to the chill of his leather jacket. 
“Hello to you, too,” he murmurs with a laugh, muffled by a kiss that catches him off-guard. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to grab breakfast first, but—”
You shake your head, grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards the bedroom. “Sex first, food later.”
“Yes ma’am.” He uses his free hand to apply a quick smack to your ass, mesmerized at the way the supple flesh ripples underneath the flannel pants. Jesus, you’ve got him half-hard and you’re still in your pajamas. 
He sits on the side of the bed, and you climb to straddle him, your inner thighs nudging his outer. “Been thinking about you,” you say, tugging his earlobe between your teeth. 
Eddie pulls you even closer, one hand snaking up your shirt to cup your breast. He’s still cold from the rain and early morning frost, and his touch has your nipple pebbling. “What about me?” 
“Well,” you trill, starting to slowly grind against the tented fabric of his pants. He exhales, a shiver of anticipation coursing through his veins. “I believe I promised my rockstar a reward for his amazing gig.” Your thoughts flit back to the night of Will’s party, when you’d snuck backstage and gotten a glimpse of him, his body pulsating with nerves that had almost immediately quelled at your touch. Another sensation had swept over him then, but that was an entirely different type of flutter.
Eddie nudges his nose against yours, a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. “Your rockstar?” He adores the phrasing. Yours. Belonging to you. And you belong to him; he won’t ever allow you to forget it. “What kind of reward did my favorite groupie have in mind?”
You slide off of him, giggling at the pout he gives you as your body loses contact with his. “Patience, Rockstar,” you warn him, though it’s difficult to contain yourself when you’re salivating just being eye-level with his erection. Your fingers dig into his waistband, and for the second time today, you’re glad for his choice of clothing. You don’t think you could handle buttons and zippers and belt buckles. Not today.
He hisses when your palm brushes along his hardened length, stiffening even while covered by his boxer briefs. A small wet patch marks his tip, leaking precum, and you press a chaste kiss to it. Almost instantly, you feel the tendrils of his thigh hair against your bare arms as his legs reflexively snap shut like a Venus flytrap catching its prey. 
“Too much?” you mumble against his happy trail. While you relish in the thought of overstimulating him, you want to keep him on edge as long as you can. 
Eddie shakes his head, curls scratching against his shoulders. “Jus’ wasn’t expecting it. ‘Cause you were using your hands, but then I felt your…never mind, I’m gonna shut up now.” He settles back into the mattress and eagerly awaits your next move.
You don’t make him wait long, lips drawn to his shaft with a magnetic force. You only stop to shimmy his underwear down his legs, tossing them to the corner of the room. His cock is flush against his tummy; you catch yourself staring at the dusting of wispy curls that trail from his upper groin down to his heavy sack. 
Your dominant hand wraps around the base while the other leans on his thigh for balance. You lean in and spit, letting your saliva dribble down his length before flattening your tongue to lick up the pearly bead forming at the tip. Eddie’s abdominal muscles contract and his fists clench, never taking his eyes off of the beautiful woman on her knees for him. 
He lets out a soft moan as you hollow out your cheeks to take more of him into your mouth. A string of syllables that barely resemble words escapes him. “Mmm, yes, oh, sh–fucking hell–thas’ it…” He twists the bedsheets between his fingers, inhaling sharply as your tongue glides up and down his cock. “S’pretty, fuck, gorgeous girl.” He watches intently, staving off blinks so he doesn’t miss a moment of him disappearing between your lips.
He’d once thought that he could never want more than sloppy post-gig hook-ups in dive bar bathrooms with girls whose names he’d never learned, though he wouldn’t have made an effort to remember them anyway. Girls who had only offered their mouths so they could lay claim to his body; the opportunity to brag that they’d blown Eddie Munson before he got famous.
That was before you, before you’d shown him the intoxicating mixture of longing and belonging, of lust and…
You continue drawing him closer and closer to his orgasm, nose grazing his thatch of pubic hair. His hips buck slightly, but your mouth is so full of him that it threatens to evoke your gag reflex. 
“Shit, ‘m sorry,” Eddie blurts out, unfurling a hand from the sheets to cup your cheek. He pulls out, allowing you to take a deep breath. 
You shake your head. “I liked it,” you tease with a wicked grin, wasting no time assuming your previous position. 
“Oh, fuck,” Eddie throws his head back. “You like gagging on my dick? Fucking hell, babe.”
“Mhm.” The gentle vibration has him twitching, and you know he can’t last much longer. You bring your attention to his tip, sucking and giving soft kitten licks while your hand takes care of the rest of his length. He’s so painfully hard that you wouldn’t be surprised if he stayed that way long after finishing. 
“Jus’…just like that. Oh, fuuuuuck,” he groans, silently calling upon every ounce of willpower in his body to keep his pelvis still so he doesn’t disturb the beautiful rhythm you’ve found. “Gonna cum…shit, baby, if you don’t want it in your mouth, you gotta stop now.”
But you do want it in your mouth, so you don’t stop, feeling warm ropes adorning your tongue just seconds later. He’s panting, chest heaving as though he was the one putting in the effort, but he still notices the way you swallow his thick load without missing a beat. 
“Did you just…oh, my God. You’re perfect.” He throws his hands up in mock defeat. “I can’t…nothing I do will ever compare to you, I swear.” He motions for you to lay down next to him, and immediately climbs on top of you, the sweat from his chest transferring to your shirt. “Off,” he mumbles, pulling it over your head before you get the chance to do it yourself.
His lips swoop down to your left breast, tongue flickering over the nipple, and his dominant hand travels into your panties and expertly finds your clit. You let out a tiny whimper, barely audible over Eddie’s own grunts, finding pleasure in making you feel good. 
“This body,” he mumbles, mouth still attached to your chest, “has me in a goddamn chokehold. It’s all I think about.” That isn’t quite true; he certainly spends plenty of time daydreaming of you, though it isn’t always in such compromising positions. Sometimes, you’re sleeping next to him in bed as he presses gentle kisses to the nape of your neck. Other times, he’ll be cooking dinner and picture you passing him the salt or handing him a serving spoon to dish out whatever noodle-based concoction he’s conjured up. Whatever he’s doing, he imagines you by his side. 
“Can you kiss me?” Your request is timid but dripping with need. 
Eddie nods, bringing himself to eye level with you and closing the gap between your faces. You taste of minty toothpaste and of him, and he curses himself for diving in headfirst without remembering to kiss you. “M sorry,” he apologizes for the second time that morning, and you forgive him with a soft bite to his lower lip. 
Your arms rest on his shoulders and your legs wrap around his calf muscles, desperate to remain as close as possible at all times. No, you can’t stay like this forever, so you’ve got to make it count. “Need you inside me, Eddie.” Your voice nearly cracks, tears pricking at your lash line as the craving for him grows stronger. “Please.”
Eddie musters up a terse laugh. “Sweetheart, I just came, like, five minutes ago. You gotta give me a second to bounce back.” He lowers himself so he can whisper in your ear, “let me take care of you while we wait, hm?”
As soon as you nod, he’s yanking down your pajama pants and panties in one fluid motion. You can’t miss the way his eyes light up once you’re fully on display for him, taking in every centimeter of your body like his existence depends upon it. He starts to shimmy his way down, but your murmured “mm-mm” captures his attention.
“Still want you kissing me,” you say, gazing adoringly into his deep brown eyes. “Maybe you could just use your fingers?” 
His instinct is to protest; he’s been desperate to taste you again ever since his tongue last touched the most intimate part of you, but he can’t deny you what you want. He’ll do just about anything to keep a smile on your face.
Without further hesitation, Eddie’s lips are on yours. He braces himself on his elbows as his hands cradle your cheeks. You can feel the heat of his cock, still spent and flaccid, against the top of your thigh. He shifts slightly so he can press one thick finger into your pussy, dragging in and out so deliciously that you barely notice his tongue slipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss as you moan.
“Y’like that?” It’s a gratuitous question; he can feel how much you like it in the way you’re clenching around him. “Gonna make my girl feel s’good.”
“Call me your girl again,” you whine, punctuating the plea with a gentle buck of your hips. 
Eddie grins, ducking his head where your neck meets your collarbone and sucking lightly. It takes every ounce of strength he possesses not to mark you. He studies the moisture left behind by his lips and wishes it was the exquisite shades of blue and indigo that form when someone’s been claimed. 
He slides a second finger inside you. “My sweet girl,” he coos, just a hint of patronization laced within his deep voice, “you like being mine? Belonging to me?”
Your stomach flips at his words; a gnawing hunger for Eddie Munson. “Love it. I…I love being your girl.” You allow your mind to clear, absorbing his gaze, his touch, his skin. The graceful arch of your back beckons him to move faster, tongue peeking from between his plush lips as he concentrates on your orgasm.
Each stroke within you inches you closer to euphoria. Eddie’s thumb is pressed to your clit, cementing his determination to tip you over the edge. He hits all the right spots, committing them to memory; his own personal pathway to the heavens. 
It’s your turn to grab onto the bed sheets like a lifeline as pleasure surges through you. Your lips coat his in a warm layer of “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” the praise a victory chant to him. He waits until your eyelids flutter back open and your breathing steadies before taking his fingers from your center and into his mouth, licking your release off of his skin like a delicacy.
Your body may be splayed out on the bed, but your mind is adrift; its only focus is the float down from the high Eddie’s brought you to. If it weren’t for the throbbing reminder pressed to your leg, you might float right into the atmosphere.
You summon the willpower to prop yourself up on your elbows, watching intently as he fists himself to temporarily ease the ache.
“Why’re you doing that when ‘m right here?” you mumble, wetting your lower lip with a swipe of your tongue. You can only hope that there’s some semblance of a smile in your intoxicated expression. “Unless you…prefer your hand?”
“Fuck, no,” he grumbles, curls dancing along his shoulder blades as he loosens his grasp to dig through your top drawer. He shoves aside stray prescription bottles and various knickknacks that you’ve been meaning to go through until he finds what he’s been looking for.
He snatches up the teal box and practically tears the cardboard in half trying to open it. The snake of foil packets tumbles out and he scrambles for them, but you’re faster.
Wordlessly, you rip off one packet and carefully tear off the top. Eddie hisses as you roll the condom down his hardened length, more than ready to be inside you. 
“Wanna ride you,” you tell him, pressing your palms to his soft pecs. “‘S that okay?” 
“Is that—baby, if I ever say no to that offer, there’s something seriously wrong with me,” he laughs, already laying back on the bed. His hair splays across the pillow, brown curls swirling atop the cotton pillowcase like Van Gogh’s Starry Night. 
Eddie inhales sharply as you sit above him, sheathed cock pressed to your heat in anticipation. He reaches out and grabs your breasts, one in each hand, kneading them in his palms. His thumbs brush over your nipples, gauging your reaction before giving them a small pinch. 
Your moan, coupled with the way you grind against him, confirms your satisfaction, but he still asks, “Y’like when I do that?”
You offer him a little smirk, cocking your brow as you cheekily reply, “You tell me.” 
He doesn’t have time to respond before you lift yourself and gradually sink down onto him, soaking in every moment of the delectable stretch. Bracing yourself on his chest, you feel him bottom out so he’s filling you entirely. 
“Fuck, Sweetheart.” His hands move from your chest to your hips as he helps you adjust to the newfound fullness. “So tight. Feels‘mazing.”
“Just wanna take care of you, Eds. You’re so good to me; I wanna be good to you.” You bounce up and down, moving your hips so no part of your walls remains untouched by him. 
He’s mesmerized at the jiggle of your flesh as it connects with his, momentarily rendering him speechless before he regains some composure. “You are. You’re so, so good for me. Can never get enough of my girl.”
You clench around him at the title ‘my girl’, earning you a smack to your ass. The sting makes you whimper, and he swiftly delivers another. 
“You’re gonna make me cum too soon,” he huffs, blown-out pupils drifting from your eyes to where your bodies are joined. 
You pause your movements to lean down, allowing him impossibly deep within you. “If it’s too much,” you murmur into his ear, hoping your edge-teetering tremble is hidden enough to effectively tease him, “maybe I should just…stop.” You slide your hips forward until only his tip breaches your hole. 
Eddie’s jaw drops in complete disbelief. “You…you can’t fuckin’ do that to me.” You expect him to push the rest of his cock inside you and thrust until he’s completely spent, so you’re caught off-guard when he pulls out entirely. “All fours. Now.” He emphasizes his request with another spank, this one harder than the rest. 
You oblige, palms pressed into the mattress and toes curled as you await him. He taps his shaft against your bottom once, twice, three times, and then plunges into your warmth. 
“Ah—fuck—Eddie!” you cry, feeling the telltale twitch that informs you he’s close. Really fucking close. And then another sensation—a soft pop. 
He realizes what it is before you do. “Fuckin’ condom broke!” he grumbles, pulling out again—even more begrudgingly than before—and tossing the split rubber to the floor. He opens a new one and rolls it on with lightning speed, eager to be enveloped in you once again. 
“Wish we didn’t have to use those,” you mumble, willing yourself to stay steady despite the push from his pistoning hips. “Be so much easier without them.”
Picturing you taking him raw—you wanting to take him raw—is the last straw. “Yeah? You wanna feel all of me, baby?” he growls, nearly inaudible over the sound of his pelvis colliding with your ass. “Want me blowing my load so fuckin’ deep inside you?”
“Y-Yes,” you stammer, feeling that delicate wave approaching the shoreline, desperate to crest. “That’s exactly what I want, Eddie.”
“Keep saying my name,” he orders, wrapping one arm around you so his middle finger lays on your clit. Every part he touches makes you weaker for him, scavenging for the relief of release.
“Eddie, feels s’good,” you moan, legs threatening to crumple beneath you. “No one makes me feel like this ‘cept you, fuck, Eddie!”
You finish around him, squeezing him until he’s spilling into the condom with a primal groan of your name. He stays draped over you for a beat before flopping back onto the bed. 
“You are…” he turns to you and grins as he searches for the right word, “spectacular.” He gingerly removes the barrier from his dick, tying it in a knot and tossing it into the trash can next to your nightstand. “C’mere.” 
You lay on his chest, the sweat cooling as it hits your cheek. “Did you work up an appetite?” you tease, kissing just below his tattoo of a demonic head, “I can grab us some cereal, or we might have some frozen Eggos I could throw in the toaster.”
Eddie smiles so wide it threatens to escape the confines of his cheeks. “Sex and breakfast? You spoil me, Sweetheart.”
“Yeah, well; we need energy to power us through round two.” You scoot upwards to nuzzle into the crook of his neck, the salt of his perspiration tangy on your lips. “Give me a few minutes, okay? Do you like syrup on your waffles?”
“And butter?” he asks with a hopeful smile, peering at you through long eyelashes that would have had you darting to Bradley’s Big Buy if you didn’t already have a stick of Land O’ Lakes in the fridge.
You roll your eyes playfully. “Yes, Your Majesty,” you say, giving his bare thigh a small tap. “Would you also care for some freshly-squeezed orange juice? I can have the chef whip some up right away.”
Eddie throws his head back and laughs, slowly pushing himself up so he can help you in the kitchen. It dawns on him that he hasn’t felt this kind of peace after sex before; his mind has always been clouded with fears of getting too attached, of saying the wrong thing, of deluding someone into thinking he’s enough. 
“God, I love you.” The words tumble out before he can stop them, and he freezes in place, one leg through his underwear. “Fuck, I mean–”
“It’s okay,” you rush to reassure him, noting the red tinge forming on the tips of his ears. “I’d say that to anyone who offered me breakfast foods, too.” You give him room to accept the out, to brush off his confession as a slip of the tongue. There’s no use in awarding merit to an accidental comment, regardless of what your skipped heartbeat tells you.
He considers it, every synapse and neuron firing at warpspeed. Maybe he could convince himself that it was an accident if it was the first time he’d felt this, the way your sunshine radiates through him and warms him from within. But that was far from the truth. 
“No,” he finds himself saying, grasping onto every morsel of confidence he can find, “it’s not because of the food. I love you.” 
Your voice catches in your throat. You want to believe that he’s reciprocating your feelings, but something nags at you. “Are you sure it’s not because we just had sex? Because sometimes that—”
“No,” Eddie repeats himself, unfolding the waistband of his boxer briefs and walking to you. “Because it wasn’t about sex when you calmed me down after the parent-teacher conference. It wasn’t about sex when you taught Harris how to read and bowl and be a better person than I’ll ever be. It wasn’t about sex when you cheered me on during our last gig, and it wasn’t about sex when I saw you holding Ettie.” He takes a deep breath and holds your hands as he gazes into your eyes. “And even after having sex, it isn’t about sex. It’s about you being the one for me. I love you, I love you, I love you.” He kisses your forehead, then your cheek, and finally your lips. 
“I love you, too, Eddie.” 
Just five words, six syllables, and he’s a goner. Seriousness melts into a sappy smile as he cradles your cheeks and presses the tip of his nose to yours. “Holy shit, we’re in love.”
You kiss him, tongue nudging his as your torsos meld together. If your stomach wasn’t gnawing for something to eat, you’d start round two right then and there. 
Throwing on just a shirt and panties, you lead him into the kitchen before either of you can crawl back into bed. His hands never leave your body, snaking around your waist as you rifle through the freezer for the familiar yellow box. His head rests on your shoulder as you drop the waffles into the toaster and press the lever down.
“Eds?”
“Yes, my love?” he murmurs, pecking a soft kiss behind your ear. You both could have sworn that there was nothing better than him calling you ‘my girl,’ but you’re unashamed to stand corrected.
“Could you make yourself useful and grab some plates? Maybe get the syrup or butter?” you tease, noting the dramatic pout developing on his face. “What?”
“I’m keepin’ you warm,” he protests, sliding his hands over the cotton fabric of your faded t-shirt and grabbing your breasts. “And you’re not wearing a bra, so I gotta hold ‘em for you.”
He eventually obliges, setting two Chinette plates on the countertop and padding over to the refrigerator. He plucks the condiments from the side door and places them in the center of the table. 
“Cups, too,” you remind him with a cheeky grin, pointing to a cabinet to your right. “No drinking out of the carton in my house.”
“Bossy this morning, aren’t we?”
The toaster chimes a charismatic ding! as the waffles jump out of their slots, and you carefully drop both onto one plate. “Here ya go,” you chirp, extending your arm so he can take his breakfast. 
“Where’s yours?” His brows pinch together in confusion, a sly smile stretching his lips. “Don’t tell me I didn’t make you work up more of an appetite back there. Shit, shoulda had you ride me longer–”
Your hip collides with his in a purposeful shove. “I’m getting mine ready now. Go sit and eat, you horndog.” 
Eddie drops the plate on the counter so quickly that the Eggos nearly fly off, pulling you from behind for a hug that squeezes all the air from your lungs. You squeal as he bites your neck and barks into it, solidifying that he has indeed earned the new nickname you’ve bestowed upon him.
He takes one of his waffles and places it on your empty plate. “We can eat together.”
You grab the orange juice from the fridge, giving the carton a shake before pouring the contents between the two glasses. It’s not until you sit down that you remember: “Oh, shit—utensils.” You start to get back up, but Eddie puts a hand out in a silent bid for you to stay seated, shuffling back to the kitchen. The drawer rattles as he pulls with just a bit too much strength, and he comes back with two knives and a single fork. 
“You only got one—” you start, but he shakes his head. 
“Don’t need it.” With that, he cuts off a hunk of butter and slathers it on top of his waffle, knife scraping against the little squares. He slathers every square inch in syrup, folds the waffle in half, and takes an exaggeratedly large bite. 
“Eddie Munson!” you lightly chastise, still in shock at what you’ve witnessed. “Did you just eat that like a taco?”
“Sí, señorita.”
You shake your head in disbelief. “Oh, my God, I’m in love with a barbarian.” You reach for the bottle of Aunt Jemima and drizzle the sticky-sweetness onto your waffle. “What else is going on with you?” you ask, cutting the food into strips and spearing it with your fork. “Work’s good?”
“Work’s great, actually.” He starts to bring the waffle to his mouth but pauses just before taking a bite. Syrup drops onto the plate with a plop. “I almost forgot to tell you! The regional manager asked me to go to this thrift market in Indianapolis in a few weeks—all on the company’s dime—and try to snag some vintage records.”
“Eds, that’s amazing!” You leap up from your chair and lean in to kiss his syrupy lips. 
He licks a smudge of butter from the side of his thumb. “Oh, but that’s not even the best part,” Eddie grins triumphantly. “The market just so happens to fall during spring break, and I was hoping you could join us?” His bare foot nudges yours under the table. “That is, if you think you can survive an entire weekend running after Harris?”
Your jaw drops in mock-offense. “One of us chases after children–plural–every day. Besides,” you add, taking a swig of juice, “Harris isn’t the one I’m worried about.” You gesture at his partially-demolished breakfast. “At least when he eats like this, he has the excuse of being a child.”
His reply is a flick of his left middle finger, his right hand busy jamming the remaining waffle-taco into his mouth. “And yet,” he retorts with his mouth full, “you can’t seem to get enough.”
He’s got you there: all you’ve ever wanted is sitting in front of you now, the corners of his chocolate-brown eyes crinkling as he stands. You allow your eyes to roam his body; not with lust, but adoration. Love.
Your cheek yearns to be pressed to his chest, your hand resting where the soft pudge of his tummy barely rolls over the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs. Your legs crave the connection of intertwining with his. You need his arms, biceps strong from lugging around music equipment and holding his son, wrapped around your torso and keeping you impossibly close. Keeping you safe.
You want to spend hours asking about the stories behind the tattoos that adorn his chest, whether meaningful or the result of sheer boredom. You want to curl up on the sofa and put on a movie, absorbing none of it as you spend the entire duration lost in his lips. 
The brush of his thumb against your knuckles stirs you from your roaming thoughts. 
“Can I ask you something?”
Eddie sits up a bit straighter, hand never leaving yours. “Shoot.”
“Is it…” you fumble for the right words, “why are you like this now?”
“I’m sorry?” His brows knit together in obvious confusion. “Why am I like…what?”
“This,” you repeat, gesticulating at the man before you, warm and tender and completely unlike the stranger you’d hooked up with nearly eight months ago. “Why is the guy who once kicked me out of his apartment currently having breakfast with me half-naked and inviting me on a trip with his son?” Your tone is inquisitive, curious, and Eddie heaves a silent sigh of relief when he doesn’t detect a hint of judgment. 
He doesn’t answer your question outright; instead, he poses his own: “Do you not believe that I love you?” He bites his lower lip, mind churning with the early memories you’d made together, the ones he wishes he could lock away and never remember. 
Your heart lurches at your accidental implication. “I do! Shit, Eddie, I know you love me. And I love you, too.” You pause to lift his hand to your mouth, leaving the gentlest of kisses along his fuzzy knuckles. “I guess I just wanna know why you even let yourself love me. Why you didn’t stick to the Cat-and-Mouse. Why…why you chose me.” 
He exhales, an incredulous huff of laughter passing through his lips. “You wanna know why I started only having one-night stands? Or why I stopped?”
“Both?” you try.
“So, um,” his eyes look everywhere but at you, “I never really got attention until I moved to Chicago and started playing with that band. All of a sudden, women wanna sleep with me, and I don’t have to, like, beg them.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “But they didn’t really want to fuck Eddie Munson; they just wanted to fuck the lead singer and guitarist of Hard Knox. Didn’t matter if it was me or some other random guy.
“One night, I’m…y’know…with this one girl, and I asked her to say my name.” His cheeks tinge red and he swallows hard. “And she looks at me with these wide eyes, and I realized she didn’t even fucking know it.”
“Did you know hers?” The question comes out before you can stop it, but you already know the answer.
He rubs his eyes with his whole palm. “After that, I realized that the only difference between the Eddie who got laid and the Eddie who didn’t was that no one I slept with really knew me. And if they ever figured out that I’m just this big ol’ nerd who spent high school playing Dungeons & Dragons, they’d…” He flexes his hands to make a poof! motion. “So I decided not to let them get to know me.”
“But then…”
“But then,” he acquiesces, “you show up at the bar, looking like a goddamn dream, and I put up that cocky lead singer persona on instinct. Because that’s the only version of me that women ever wanted to be with.” He sighs. “And then I let my guard down, ask you to spend the night, and I’m thinking, ‘I gotta get her outta here before she sees who I really am. Before she sees that I’m not a rockstar; I’m just a mediocre dad who sells weed to scrape by.’”
You move so quickly that you practically knock over your chair, standing behind him and wrapping your arms around the top of his chest. Your chin rests on his scalp, and he can feel the vibration in your throat as you murmur, “nothing about you is mediocre, Eddie Munson.”
 He lays his head on your forearm, kissing it softly before lacing his fingers with yours. “Sometimes, I think I’m just buying time until you get sick of me.”
You shift your position so your lips can brush the side of his neck. “I didn’t fall for the guy on stage that night. I mean, yeah, you looked incredibly hot,” you tease and nip at his collarbone, “but I’m in love with Eddie Munson: the man who gets excited when his son reads a new word, who teases me for liking olives on my pizza, who knows the lyrics to every song ever made–including the ones he claims to hate.”
“Well, Eddie Munson–the real Eddie Munson–is so goddamn lucky to be loved by you.” He turns so he’s facing you, strong hands on your hips as he gazes up with starry eyes. 
You cradle his cheeks, stooping down so your noses touch. “You deserve to be loved.”
“Yeah.” The word is more breath than sound. “Yeah, I think I’m finally starting to believe that.” 
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The remainder of your day is spent having copious amounts of sex; Eddie had insisted on ‘making up for lost time,’ taking breaks only for a quick lunch and a shower. 
“Come with me to pick up Harris,” Eddie says as he wraps the bath towel around his waist. Water drips from the ends of his curls down to the dimples on his lower back. “We’re going to Jeff and Viv’s after so he can meet Baby Ettie.”
You raise your eyebrows in amusement, bending over to dry your legs. “I took a sick day today,” you remind him. “I can’t just show up there in your car, like, ‘nothing to see here!’”
“I’ll park far away,” he says with a shrug. “No biggie.” There’s a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “I mean, I could tell Harris that Ms. Sweetheart was supposed to be with us, but she said no—”
You swat at his chest and he pulls back, feigning pain. “You wouldn’t!”
“Try me.”
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That’s how you ended up hunched over in the passenger seat of Eddie’s sedan, hiding from any passersby who could potentially recognize you. It only takes a few minutes before you hear the sound of Harris’s little voice, chewing his dad’s ear off about his day at school.
“...and then me an’ Charlie traded me snacks, an’ no one even sawed us!” He’s cackling like it’s the funniest joke. “He had my pretzels and I had his gummies, and it was so silly!”  
“Gummies, huh?” Eddie clicks his tongue, “well, that explains the sugar rush.” Their voices get louder as they approach the car. “By the way, Har Bear, I have a surprise for you.”
As he says it, Harris opens the back door and hops into the car, eyes widening when he sees you sitting up front. “Ms. Sweetheart!” he exclaims, bouncing into his booster seat with pure exhilaration. “What are you doing in Daddy’s car?”
“I figured I could see Baby Ettie with you guys,” you say as nonchalantly as possible, a stark contrast to the little boy practically vibrating from excitement, “if that’s okay with you.”
“Yes, yes, YES!” Harris shouts, his words aimed directly in Eddie’s ear as he tries buckling his son’s seatbelt.
“Jesus H. Christ,” he mutters, wincing as he massages the opening of his ear canal with his forefinger. “Take it down a notch, little man.” He fumbles with the belt until he hears the familiar click. He dons a deep voice to announce, “Keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times,” and Harris draws his limbs inwards with a giggle while Eddie closes his door. 
“Daddy? Can we listen to music?”
“Mhm.” Eddie reaches for the radio dial, then stops. “Should we let Ms. Sweetheart choose the tape? Since she’s our special guest?” He shoots you a grin that sends a flip-flopping sensation behind your ribs. 
Harris taps his finger to his chin in contemplation. “Hmm…okay! Can she pick Metallica?”
“Not quite sure that’s how it works…” Eddie scrunches up his face and scratches at his jawline. 
You turn around to face the boy, whose curly hair is now identically frizzy to his father’s. “Actually, Metallica sounds great to me,” you say, adding a thumbs-up for good measure. 
“Metallica it is!” Eddie pops in the cassette, the mechanical wheels whirring for a moment before Fight Fire with Fire blares through the speakers. He rests his palm on the back of your seat as he backs out of the spot, tongue poking from his lips in concentration. 
Harris alternates between headbanging to the music and babbling about school throughout the drive to Jeff and Viv’s. His energy seems endless as he hops out of the car and races to their front door. 
“Har, remember,” Eddie calls out, “we have to be calm and gentle around the baby. Don’t wanna scare her.”
Harris nods as Jeff opens the door. “Mini Munson!” He gives a tired smile, stifling a yawn. “Ready to meet your new cousin?” He chuckles when Harris jumps up and down and squeals. “I’ll take that as a yes. Go ‘head and sit on the couch, kiddo.”
Harris follows Jeff’s instructions, and you and Eddie trail close behind him. Jess and Robin are also there; the latter woman is currently holding Ettie, lightly rocking the newborn in her arms. 
“Do you wanna hold her?” she asks Harris, who looks to you and his dad in a silent plea for permission. 
“Up to you, Har,” Eddie says with an encouraging smile. “We’ll help you, if you want.”
Harris nods, shuffling so his back is pressed up against the sofa. He squirms anxiously, kicking his feet as he waits for you and his dad to join him. 
Eddie sits on his right side, and you take the empty space to his left. “I’ll help you hold her head,” you promise him. “You can hold your arms out like this,” you demonstrate, resting your forearms on your lap with your palms facing the ceiling, and Harris mimics your actions. “There ya go.”
Robin carefully walks over and places Ettie in Harris’s outstretched arms, ensuring that you’re supporting the baby’s head before she fully lets go. For a few moments, Harris just stares at the little girl, seemingly unsure how to react. Finally, he softly murmurs, “she’s so little!”
“Sure is,” Eddie laughs, poking at one of her tiny toes in amazement. “Would you believe that you were even more little when you were a baby?” His grin deepens when Harris’s jaw drops in disbelief. “It’s true! You were the tiniest little thing I’ve ever seen.” As he says it, a lump forms in his throat, and he swallows it before anyone notices the catch in his voice. You don’t need to hear it, though, and you use your free hand to discreetly rub his back in silent reassurance.
Harris purses his lips as he stares at his new cousin, clearly unaffected by the anecdote. “Does she do any tricks?” 
His question has the entire group stifling laughter, and Eddie turns pink with embarrassment as he quickly explains, “she’s not a dog, buddy. And she was only born a few weeks ago, so she pretty much just eats, sleeps, and poops.”
“Ew,” Harris’s nose wrinkles in disgust at the last activity, though you’re willing to bet a large sum of money that he’s made at least one poop-related joke today. “So when can I teach her how to play Legos?”
“Not for a while,” Viv admits with a kind chuckle, “but when she’s ready, I promise that we’ll let her big cousin Harris show her how it’s done.”
Her answer placates him, at least temporarily, and he cautiously brushes his forefinger against Ettie’s scalp, smoothing down her wisps of hair. You take the moment to glance over at Eddie, only to find him looking right at you.
Hi, he mouths, though there’s so much more he wishes to say. When Harris was Ettie’s age, Eddie was exhausted, overwhelmed, constantly on the brink of breaking down. He’d sworn to himself and anyone else who would listen that he’d never go through the newborn stage again, but he’s mesmerized by the sight of you and Harris cuddling a baby. He wants this, he wants this with you, sleepless nights and spit-up stained clothes no longer strong enough deterrents.
Hi, you mouth back, suppressing words that ache to spill from your lips. Your pulse quickens at the way Eddie watches his son, not with scrutiny, but with admiration and awe, as though he can’t believe he’d created such a wonderful little human. Teaching children never translated over to a desire for motherhood, but you can suddenly picture yourself helping Harris hold your baby, a baby that symbolizes the love between you and Eddie.
“They look like a little family.” Robin’s attempted whisper grabs your attention; a brief scan of the room shows that everyone else is looking at her, too. Her cheeks flush a deep red and she mutters, “sorry,” swooping in to scoop Ettie into her arms. 
An awkward silence hangs in the air until Jess clears her throat. “How was work today?” she asks you, and though you don’t have an actual answer to the question, you’re grateful for the subject change.
“I took the day off,” you reply nonchalantly. “Wanted to catch up on rest, y’know…” You trail off, hoping your non-answer suffices.
“What about you, Ed?” Jeff tries.
“Oh, uh,” Eddie stammers, nervously running a hand through his hair, “I also took the day off.”
Jeff’s gaze flits between the two of you until he finally manages an elongated, “…cool.” 
Luckily, Harris is oblivious to the adults’ conversation. “Uncle Jeff, are you coming to my talent show next week?”
“Talent show?” Jeff glances at Eddie with an amused smirk. 
“Uh, yeah, ‘s this parent-kid thing at his school,” Eddie hurriedly explains, trying not to trip over his words. He’s still stuck on what he’s implied by admitting that he’d also called out of work. “I didn’t know how busy you’d be with Ettie—”
Viv smiles. “I think he can sneak out for an hour to see his favorite nephew.”
“Robs and I can help out here if you need,” Jess offers to her sister, “as long as Jeff brings the camcorder so we have video evidence of this performance.”
“Absolutely not.” Eddie shuts the idea down immediately, but his protest is drowned out by the sound of Harris cheering. 
“Daddy and I are gonna—”
Eddie claps a ringed hand over his son’s mouth. “It’s a surprise.” He looks at you for a moment, bashfulness infiltrating his expression with a timid smile and downcast eyes, and you realize that the surprise is for you. 
Harris wriggles out of Eddie’s grasp with a discontented sigh, sliding off the couch and onto thr floor. “I didn’t tell Ms. Sweetheart,” he protests, and Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose as he gathers any remaining patience. 
Ettie puckers up her face and lets out a wail that seems far too big for her teeny body, but it serves as the perfect reason to leave. You hug everyone goodbye and give the cranky baby’s feet a gentle tickle before you head out the door. Harris gallops ahead, giving Eddie the opportunity to guide you with a soft press of his hand to the small of your back. Before he's fully outside, he leans in to Jeff, whispering “I told her,” ending the statement with a grin. 
“My man!” Jeff grabs Eddie’s shoulder and gives it a small shake. “Let me know when to buy my tux for the wedding.”
“Jesus, you sound like Harris.”
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Spending time at Hawkins Preschool outside of contracted work hours would normally be a scenario straight out of a nightmare. This afternoon; however, you’re here to see the most adorable little boy and his handsome dad perform some sort of mystery talent, which makes it all worthwhile.
The cafeteria has been transformed into an auditorium of sorts, with neat lines of metal folding chairs replacing the long tables that typically fill the space. An area at the front of the room has been sectioned off for the performances, and the entire place is abuzz with excitement about the adorableness that is about to ensue.
You spot Jeff and Wayne sitting in the third row from the back and you give them a little wave, bounding over to take the empty seat to Jeff’s left. The smile on your lips quickly transforms into a frown when you see him shake his head, placing his palm on the chair.
“I’m under strict orders to make sure you sit in the front row,” he says with a knowing smirk. He shoos you away, and you begrudgingly turn from their familiar faces, but not before catching a twinkle in Wayne’s eyes. 
Soon after you find a seat close to the makeshift stage, Principal Sinclair steps up to the microphone. 
“Welcome, friends and family, to our annual talent show fundraiser!” There’s a polite smattering of applause before she speaks again. “Our students—and their parents—have quite a show for you all. First up is Miss Abigail Carver and her mom, Chrissy, who will be performing a cheer routine!”
You clap as Abby and Chrissy step out, green and yellow pom-poms in hand. Your student recognizes you immediately, running over to give you a quick hug that elicits a resounding aww from the audience members.  She rushes back to her spot as she and her mother cheer on the Hawkins Tigers in unison. 
Next is another student of yours, Joshua Harrington. His dad hoists a Fisher Price basketball hoop and places it on the ground so the two of them can show off their “slam dunks.”
After a few more students from other classes, it’s finally the moment you’ve been waiting for. 
“Please welcome Harris Munson and his dad, Eddie, who will be singing a song!”
No sooner do you call out, “Yay, Harris!” do you hear it:
“Freak.”
It’s low enough that no one else catches it; you probably wouldn’t have, either, if the culprit wasn’t sitting directly behind you. You turn around to see Jason Carver, camcorder by his side, poorly stifling a snicker. 
Your hands clench, balled into fists, so tight that you feel your fingernails digging into your palms. It’s too tempting to smash his camera—no, smash his stupid face—but you inhale and then exhale for three seconds apiece. Today is about Harris and Eddie, and no overgrown bully is going to ruin that. 
Still, you have to bite back a smile at the thought of Jason sporting a black eye, courtesy of the Freak’s girlfriend herself. 
When Harris and Eddie take to the performance space, your anger evaporates and your heart becomes heavy with emotion. Harris is front and center, body slightly turned as he watches his dad get settled on a wooden stool and gives his acoustic guitar a tune. The boy dons a black suit that’s a size too big for him, his hands barely peeking out of the sleeves. He’s got on a tie that has to have been borrowed from an adult; you can’t imagine Eddie or Wayne wearing one, so maybe Jeff loaned it. The best part is the fedora that rests atop his messy mop of curls. 
“Hi, Ms. Sweetheart!” he says with a grin so wide it likely hurts his cheeks, letting out a shriek of delight when you wave. “This song is for you!”
Eddie murmurs a soft, “two, three, four,” and strums a melody that immediately has your eyes welling with tears. 
“You make me feel so young,” Harris croons, mouth right up to the mic, “you make me feel so spring has sprung!”
To anyone else, it seems like a silly play on the fact that he is, in fact, young. You know it’s so much more. 
“And every time I see you grin, I’m such a happy individual!” 
He’s singing Frank Sinatra. He’s dressed as Frank Sinatra. And you know it had to be Eddie’s idea, considering Harris’s musical repertoire teeters between Raffi and Metallica. 
He skips a few verses, and when he does, Eddie locks eyes with you and offers a tiny close-mouthed smile. 
“And even when I’m old and gray I’m gonna feel the way I do today ‘Cause you make me feel so young!”
You choke down the sob that threatens to escape as they circle back to the chorus. The memory of Grandma’s final Thanksgiving, consisting of singing along to Fly Me to the Moon and sharing store-brand Oreos, soars around your mind. The way she had so easily slipped back into her old self, if only for a moment. The way Eddie had held you and kissed your scalp, protecting you from a force no one could see but everyone could feel. 
“You make me feel so young You make me feel so young Ooh, you make me feel so young!”
The song ends and you leap to your feet, cheering just as loudly as you did the other night at the Hideout for Corroded Coffin. You swipe at a stray tear and force yourself to look at your boyfriend, so effortlessly beautiful in a black t-shirt and jeans. 
Thank you, you mouth. 
I love you, comes his silent reply. 
You gaze into each other’s eyes for another beat before you feel a thud against your legs. Harris stands right before you, ignoring the way all of the other kids proceeded out the door after their performances.
“Are those happy tears?” he asks, brows furrowing in concern as he notices your stained cheeks. When you nod, still too overcome with emotion to speak aloud, his face splits into a grin. “Good.” His arms wrap around your waist in a hug that nearly has you toppling over, and you rest your hand on his upper back to steady yourself.
“Easy, Har Bear,” Eddie’s voice is strong but tender, and your entire body relaxes in his presence. You want to pull him in by his belt loops and kiss him, running your fingers through his curls until you’re both smiling too hard to continue. If only you weren’t at your place of work, if only all eyes weren’t on you, if only–
“Looks like the Freak’s got a crush.”
A smattering of the audience members laugh at this, no one more so than the instigator himself. You whirl around reflexively, eyes narrowing at the smug blonde man behind you. Eddie takes a small step forward, quietly telling Harris to go back with his friends as he zeroes in on his longtime nemesis.
He’s going to hit him, you realize, noting the subtle clench of his jaw and twitch of his flexing bicep. I have to stop him before he does something he regrets.
Eddie’s hand shoots out, grabbing Jason’s collar and pulling him in with a jolt. There’s a soft gasp from the crowd followed by silence as everyone waits for Eddie’s next move. You can hear the scraping of metal chairs on the ground as Wayne and Jeff scramble to mitigate the situation before it can escalate further.
To your surprise–and relief–Eddie doesn’t throw any punches; instead, he grits his teeth and hisses, low enough so only you and Jason can hear:
“Don’t ever talk about her again.”
He lets go with a small shove, and Jason stumbles back just as Principal Sinclair arrives to break it up. While time came to a screeching halt, the whole interaction spanned fewer than ten seconds. 
Wayne and Jeff reach him first, guiding him out of the cafeteria. The older man keeps his eyes on his nephew, but Jeff shoots Jason a steely glare, insinuating that Jason had better heed Eddie’s warning if he wants to live to see his daughter go to kindergarten. You follow behind and attempt to keep your composure.
“I’m so sorry,” Eddie breathes as soon as the four of you are alone. “I shouldn’t have…I just fuckin’ hate that guy.” His eyes dance with anxiety, not sure whether to look at you, his friend, his uncle, or the ground.
You take his hands in yours, imploring him to focus on you as you reach up to brush his curls off of his face. “It’s okay–”
Eddie shakes his head. “I ruined everything. This was supposed to be about Harris, and about making you happy…” He takes a step back, rubbing his eyes with a low, exasperated, “fuck!”
“Baby–”
“I’m gonna get Harris,” Eddie starts to walk away, speaking to himself as though you hadn’t said a word, but he stops in his tracks when Wayne puts his hand on his shoulder.
“Listen to your girl,” he says simply, motioning for Jeff to come fetch Harris with him.
Eddie doesn’t dare protest, trudging back to face you. He’d fucked up royally, and he knew it. What was he thinking, putting his hands on Jason Carver in the middle of a goddamn preschool talent show?
“Eddie,” you take his hand in yours and give it a squeeze, “it’s okay. I’m not mad; I just wish he didn’t get under your skin like that.” You rub your thumb along his forefinger. “He’s not worth it, I promise.”
“I just…” Eddie mumbles, thoughts too scrambled to find the words he needs. He heaves a long sigh. “I shouldn’t have done it here.”
You can’t really argue with that; out of all of the places Eddie could fight Jason, your job wasn’t your favorite option. 
“Can I tell you a secret?” You press onto your toes to whisper in his ear. “I almost did the same thing earlier today.”
“Really?”
“Mhm,” you confirm, nudging the toe of your shoe against his scuffed sneaker. “And I have a feeling most people in this town would agree with me.” The notion makes Eddie smile, and you continue. “Let me take you and Ol’ Brown Eyes out for ice cream to celebrate your amazing performance. Please?” You throw a puppy-dog look his way, though he needs little convincing.
Still, a nagging thought tugs at him that he has to resolve before can allow himself to relax. “There might be people there. People we know.” People like Jason Carver and Carol Perkins, he silently adds. “It’s okay if you don’t want to…we can just grab a half-gallon from Bradley’s and bring it home.”
You shake your head, effectively turning down his offer. “I’m taking my boyfriend and his adorable son to Scoops Ahoy, and the three of us are gonna split a fudge sundae,” you say matter-of-factly. 
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Are you sure you’re okay with people knowing about us? Being branded ‘The Freak’s Girlfriend’? Hearing people gossip about whatever the Hawkins rumor mill has churned out?
The sensation of your lips on his tempers the overworked gear shifts in his brain. When you pull back, you’re smiling at him. 
“Positive.”
--
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heresan · 4 months
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When you're perched so prettily on his lap with your arms loosely coiled around his neck, Wriothesley truly wonders what he's done to deserve this一to deserve you and your love and your affections.
There's an endearing boyish smile on his face as you lay only the softest and sensual kiss after sweet kiss on either side of his cheeks, the small scar just at the prominence in deserving of a little extra attention from you. His thoughts become addled when the warmth of your lips spread from his jawline, neck and the corners of his mouth before the long-awaited blissful exchange after enduring all your teasing.
When you draw back slightly, your boyfriend's face is stained all over by the lipstick you'd been wearing since the morning. But there's a reason behind this gesture of tenderness, a greater purpose that lies with all the women in Fontaine in hopes of developing a long-lasting and transfer-free beauty product, or so that's what you like to tell yourself.
Sigewinne had asked you to test her newly formulated cosmetic and provide her with your honest feedback in her survey, while mentioning that at her recent beauty lecture a few audiences had brought to her attention if there's a possibility of such a product. And so, here you are testing how the lipstick wears after food and drink, with a personal experiment of your own for its kissing-proof capabilities.
"Perfection. Would you believe me if I said you look much more handsome this way?" You're almost admiring your handiwork as you do a once-over, but remember that the product doesn't hold up to its original purpose. The lipstick checks out on moisturizing long-wear while still being relatively low-maintenance, but you'll just simply have to report your findings back to the Head Nurse to improve the final product. "I suppose I'll have to let Sigewinne know that there's a bit of transfer."
"More handsome with all this lipstick smear? It might just be because I have someone so beautiful to kiss me." Wriothesley chuckles, as his thumb wipes the slight smudge overlining your bottom lip that’s already begun to fade after doing a number on him. "Perhaps she only needs a little more practice in making a product that can survive our kissing. But a little lipstick stain isn't going to hurt anyone."
You offer a content hum, agreeing with him as you lean forward to press a peck to his lips that he more than gladly returns with a fervor of his own. Wriothesley brings you closer to him by the waist and his tongue runs along the seams of your lips for entrance, deepening the kiss in a heavenly traverse and you instinctively clasp your hand gently into the back of his hair. The pigment spreads and stains upon his lips once more before what's left connecting you both is a string of saliva, and the sound of soft panting for air fills the silence in the room.
Your cheeks feel warm and your heart impossibly full as your head rests comfortably on his shoulder, your fingers fiddling and twirling with his maroon tie as you revel in this feeling of giddiness. "Thanks for letting me steal you away from your work again. I was afraid you wouldn't have time for me between managing the prison and your scheduled uninterrupted tea breaks."
Wriothesley laughs softly at your teasing and plants a chaste kiss to your temple. "Don't worry about it at all, sweetheart. You shouldn't be surprised that I always have time for you. Besides you're not doing anything but letting me have my fun."
He then peers at the swell of your messy lips, a playful smirk gracing his features with a quiet craving behind his gaze. He only wants to feel more of you, like his hands and mouth can't stop wanting to search for every last part of you. And you can’t really blame him for finishing what you started. "Perhaps I should kiss you again and again until it's all but disappeared, hm?"
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linalaine · 5 months
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- Under the Table -
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Scaramouche x Reader Smut
Scara meeting your parents and fingering you under the table.
🪼🌸cw: afab!reader , fingering in public , use of pussy/cunt/hole and mentions of car sex at the end .
Enjoy !!
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Scaramouche and you have been dating for a couple months now, nearing your one year anniversary!!
So you thought it was about time he met your parents.
A nice restaurant, friendly conversations, great food and music. Overall, perfect! Nothing could go wrong, right?
Wrong.
You and Scaramouche sat on the opposite side of your parents, so you were across from them while sitting next to your boyfriend. It all started off fine. They seemed to be liking him so far! You didn't really contribute much to the conversation except for the introductions. Letting them do the talking to get to know each other.
Besides, how could you contribute when you were fighting back moans as Scara's fingers prodded at your already wet cunt?
You didn't see the harm in him lightly caressing your thigh from time to time. But then he straight up shoved your panties aside!
You were biting your tongue. Your face red with embarrassment and shame as your boyfriend kept up the polite facade.
His fingers were moving soo slowly in and out of your aching pussy, laughing a little too loudly anytime the squelching from your juices, got almost noticeable.
You were thankful nobody could see what was happening under the table. Your parents remaining completely oblivious to the knowing smirks Scara would throw your way. Sometimes even prompting you to speak up whenever you let a shaky breath slip.
"Hm? What was that, love? Did you say something?" He would ask. Causing both your parents to turn your way as you bit your tongue and shook your head.
You quickly shook your head. You were practically sweating. And it was noticeable.
"Hun, you alright? You look a bit.. sweaty.." Your mother commented, concern filled tone.
You opened your mouth to answer her, only for Scara to plunge another finger all the way inside your soaking hole. Making you choke out and cough to try and cover up the tears of plessure on your eyes as you avoided looking at your parents.
"I-Im fine!! The.. The food.. God.. The food is just too spicy.." You managed to breathe out, hearing Scara chuckle under his breath as he gave your clit a few soothing rubs before retracting his fingers from within you. He wiped the juices coating his fingers onto your thigh discreetly before continuing to chat with your parents.
Your eyes on your plate instead, a hand gripping onto Scaras wrist from under the table, leaving cresent shaped nail marks behind.
You stiffled a whine. Now unsatisfactory and craving more. The next two hours were torture. But once your parents finally finished their dishes and paid the check. You dragged him all the way to his parked car, practically shoving him in the back seat so he could finish what he started.
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sturniolos-blog · 2 months
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dad!matt but reader is struggling w an ed while going thru pregnancy..?
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Eating disorder - Matt Sturniolo x Y/n oneshot
warnings - eating disorder (don’t read if you’re not comfortable,) throwing up, sad, fluff, self consciousness, insecurity, mentions of a handjob, slight arguing
disclaimer: first person POV
—————————
1:24pm
It was hard for me, to be pregnant and barely see her husband.
It was harder to see women he was friends with that was the definition of beauty.
All of it was hard.
As I stood at the kitchen island, staring at the to go box of food Matt had left for her before he’d gone to work.
I got this from Buffalo Wild Wings, I know you’ve been craving spicy stuff. Love you so much, baby(s) -Matt
The note read, I wanted to crack a smile, dive in to the food. But I couldn’t, my mind didn’t let me.
You’re not supposed to eat. You’re already gaining enough weight with the baby. Matt’s not gonna know, throw it out, pig.
My thoughts ran wild and mean. I didn’t particularly think i was a big person, I definitely wasn’t skinny but I also definitely wasn’t fat, maybe a couple pounds “overweight.” But the expectation nowadays want you to be perfect or else you’re not good enough.
I let out a sigh, picking the to go box up and bringing it to the trash, shoving the box in the bottom of the trash, knowing that if Matt saw the box in the trash he would freak.
—————————
8:48pm
The rest of the day consisted of me sleeping on the couch, or watching TV. Getting up to wipe counters and vacuum occasionally, but otherwise just not doing anything else. Not like being 7 months pregnant was easy.
I scrolled through the channels with a bored look on my face, my hand holding my head up as my elbow was propped on the arm of the couch.
The door opened and Matt came in, holding another bag of food, with a big smile plastered on his face.
I internally sighed, guilt already eating away at me.
“How are both my babies?” Matt laughed, taking his shoes off and placing the bag of food on the coffee table before kneeling on the couch over me and kissing me softly.
He pushed into the kiss a little more before pulling away with a big smile, “Hi, pretty girl.” He whispered.
There it was again, pretty. That word, was he saying that because I’m his baby mama? Is he saying that because he doesn’t want me to be insecure? Or is he saying that be-
“Hey..” Matt grabbed my chin, making me look at him as he sat down regularly on the couch. “You okay?”
I picked at my ear and nodded, “I’m fine.” I said, pulling my hand away from my ear.
Matt let out a laugh and shakes his head, “You pick at your ear when you’re nervous or lying, so what is it? Am i making you nervous or am i being lied to?” He taunted.
I scoffed, my hand going to pick at my ear again but i caught my self, placing my hand in my lap. “Sorry, i’m fine. This baby just keeps pushing on my bladder, speaking of I have to use the bathroom.” I let out a short laugh, struggling to get up.
Matt stood up and helped me, “Okay, well I got in n out because I know you’ve been craving burgers lately.” He said, kissing the side of my forehead.
I shook my head, picking my ear once again but this time he didn’t notice as he started taking the burgers out of the bag. “Uh- i actually made a sandwich like twenty minutes ago so i’m not really hungry.” I said nervously, picking at my fingers.
Matt nodded, “That’s fine, baby. Now go use the bathroom before we have another accident like last week.” Matt teased.
I let out a scoff, “Screw you! I told you I had to go but you insisted on me giving you a ha-”
“Okay! Okay, go.” Matt cut me off as he let out another laugh.
—————————
9:57pm
I lathered lotion on my hands as i stood in front of the mirror in Matt and I’s room, smearing some on my neck and chest.
Matt came in with his hair wet, shirt off with sweatpants, coming up behind me and kissing the back of my neck, then kissing my cheek. His hand going to my belly, squeezing softly.
I smiled before he pulled away starting to get into bed as I started to put some overnight cleanser on my face.
“You sure you’re not hungry, n/n? I know you get hungry later at night now.” Matt urged on as he got comfy under the sheets.
I shook my head, “No that salad I had really filled me up.” I laughed, starting to get into bed.
Matt gives me a weird look, “I thought you had a sandwich.” He points out.
Shit.
“I had a sandwich and a salad so i’m extra full, can we drop it?” I snapped, not meaning to but it just came out.
“Alright, alright.” Matt said as i climbed into bed.
I turned off the lamp, the room going silent.
“Can we cuddle?” Matt whispered.
I let out a sigh, putting my arms out for Matt.
He immediately crawled into my touch, his head going onto my chest as his hand rubbed my belly, a gesture i used to hate, because i was fat.
—————————
8:34am
I wake up slowly, letting out a soft groan as i open my eyes. I let out a hum as i turn my head, looking over to see Matt’s head on his pillow, his face towards me as he slept.
His pink lips were slightly parted as he continued to take slow, unconscious breaths.
He was laying on his stomach as his arm was draped right under my pregnant belly.
I smiled before slowly removing his arm. He let out a small hum before he started to wake up.
“Mm.. good morning.” Matt said with his sleepy, morning voice.
“Sorry.. i didn’t mean to wake you up.” I apologized as I stood up.
Matt shook his head, indicating it doesn’t matter. He then gives me a confused look, “Where are you going?” He said as he rubbed his eyes.
“Bathroom, I told you this baby of yours likes to push on my bladder.” I complained as i started to walk towards the bathroom.
Matt lets out a laugh.
“Shut up!” I yell as I close the bathroom door.
I do my business before standing up, standing at the sink to wash my hands.
My eyes glance down at the water as it runs through my fingers.
The water starts spinning.
I look up to look at myself in the mirror, but I was also spinning, i couldn’t keep focus.
Everything was turning around me as I stumbled and almost lost my buisness. My back hit the door harshly.
“Babe, you okay?” Matt calls out.
I swallow harshly as I try to gain my balance, I try to speak. “M-matt, i think i-”
Thump.
Everything went black.
—————————
10:32am
I slowly blink my eyes open, my body hurting as i regain my conscious.
I let out a groan as I look around, noticing that I was in a hospital room.
“Baby? Hold on, n/n. Wait.” I hear Matt’s voice tell me, putting a hand on my leg.
“What happened?” I croak out.
“Just uh- drink this, sweetheart.” He said, a harsher tone to his voice, putting a cup of water in front of my face with a bendy straw poking out of it.
I bring my lips to the straw, sucking slowly as i swallow, my dry throat getting moist from the water.
I watch as a doctor comes in the room, holding a tablet.
“Y/n! So good to see you awake. Now, let’s talk. I’m gonna ask you a couple questions and i need you to answer truthfully and with full honesty.” She says.
I rub my eyes and nod, moving to sit up, rubbing my head but immediately groaning in pain as i feel a wrap around it, assuming i hit my head when i passed out.
I grabbed Matt’s hand.
“Okay, do you know where you are?”
“Los Angeles Hospital.”
She nodded and smiled, “Good, good. Next, do you know what happened?”
I look away for a second, thinking. “I passed out. Everything got spinny and then went black.” I explained.
She nodded, “Y/n, have you ever suffered from an eating disorder?” She asks.
I look at Matt who’s face turned pale, i shook my head. “Never.”
Matt squeezed my hand.
“Okay, well, Y/n, do you know the reason you passed out?” The doctor asks me, her tucking her hair behind her ear.
I shook my head as I picked my ear. I hear Matt let out a scoff.
The doctor looks at Matt, “Is something wrong, Mr.Sturniolo?”
He shook his head and cleared his throat, standing up. “I’m just gonna go grab something from the vending machine, i’ll be back.”
I held onto Matt’s hand tighter, shaking my head. “Matt, please.” I whispered, my voice cracking slightly. I could tell something was wrong.
Matt clenched his jaw, looking at me before he nodded.
“Alright, Y/n, well the reason you passed out is because your labs show you haven’t eaten in a while, which is bad for a normal person, but even worse for a woman carrying a child. You see, your body is giving energy too two living beings, your food is shared, your sleep is shared, everything is shared. So when you don’t eat, it’s not just taking energy from you it’s taking energy from the both of you.” She explains.
“Oh, i just- i don’t- uhm-” I shake my head, not knowing what to say.
“Okay, i can give you two a minute or two to maybe talk and process, and then we can talk about things we have to make sure happens for the future and for your baby girl to be healthy.” The doctor says, walking out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Mat stands up and starts pacing the room as he bites his thumb nail.
“Matt-”
“Don’t!” He raises his voice. “You were struggling and you didn’t tell me? How could you do that to me? What are we even married for if you won’t tell me things like this?” He yells at me.
“Don’t yell at me! It’s not an everyday thing t-that you struggle with y-your body, a-and that you feel guilty everytime you take a bite of something! So d-do not come at me for not telling you that!” I yell back as my voice cracks.
A guilty look appears on Matt’s face, “I’m sorry. I just wish you would’ve told me. I want us to be able to tell each other things like this, we’re married, y/n. Married.”
I nod and sniffle, “I’m sorry.” I whisper out.
He shakes his head, putting his hand on my cheek as he kisses me softly. “It’s okay, just next time, please tell me.”
I nod and he kisses me again.
—————————
So this is the end hope you liked it idk why it took me so long i’m in another writers block like help anyway hope yall liked
taglist: @sturniolosmind @novasturniolo03 @hearts4chriss @vinniehackerslefttoe @christhopersturniolo @mattybswife @streamermattsgf @sturnolio-luvs
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yandereforme · 7 months
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how would the yandere bat fam react to y/n having meltdowns (e.g kicking and screaming and sobbing ect)
TW: mentions of self harm and meltdowns, sedatives,
That depends entirely on why.
If it’s because of something like the hot and cold treatment, and you throwing their treatment back in their face? Then they will be a lot more patient than if you wanted to leave.
Bruce won’t react outwardly. On the inside? He’s beating himself up for everything he’s put you through. He feels like a failure, and will try to compensate with gifts and attention. He can’t fix the past, but he can make sure he doesn’t do it again. If you are a danger to yourself? He will try to talk you down, but if he can’t, he will knock you out. You will be on suicide watch until he thinks he can trust you again.
Dick will feel guilty regardless, and the only way he will step in is if you are in danger of hurting yourself. He’s angry at himself, you needed him! You are obviously acting out just like he did! Get ready to be infantilized to the extreme, and not have any alone time to yourself for a while. If you hurt yourself, she will be worse. Do you want be allowed to even stand, he will carry you from place to place. He didn’t do anything for you then, so he’s going to do everything for you now.
Jason will take it all without complaint. He knows he messed up and he will take the punishment. You need yo get it out of your system. If you are in any danger of hurting yourself, he will stop it in a second though. You can hurt him, but you will never be allowed to hurt yourself.
Tim won’t take anything you say as anything more than hysteria. He’s such a delusional yandere that he’s genuinely confused as to why you are doing this. Hewill get you any comfort items you have, but he will not know what to say, and may end up setting you off again. The second you are in danger of hurting yourself though? He will knock you out without hesitation.
Damian will flounder. He has no idea what to do, since this will be the first time he sees you like this. He will most likely just let you go through it, silently standing by, and will bring you water and food that he knows you enjoy once you stop. If you start hurting yourself, he will instinctively stop you. He’ll probably restrain you, and talk to you like a spooked animal. I can honestly see him being the best with you when you’re like that.
If you were having a meltdown about wanting to leave the manner, they will do the same things, but be a lot less guilty and a lot more firm. You almost died the last time you left. You aren’t allowed to leave. They have to make up for what they’ve done to you. Also, Damien will definitely sedate you if he thinks you want to leave.
You wanted this love for so long. You’ve got it now. They love you. Now be a good sibling/kid, and don’t try to leave. It’s too dangerous for you outside. They are giving you everything you wanted and will buy you whatever you’d like. You just have to stay with them. 
Edit: Thank you for giving me this request. I’ve been having trouble writing these days, but your request gave me some much needed serotonin, so I was able to finish this and a few other things. Please send me more requests, and comment on my posts more. I crave validation lol
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