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webslingingslasher · 2 months

Text

Care less

for the frat!peter girlies.

Peter blames his aunt.

May went and raised him to look forward to the middle of february. She would make little boxes and handwritten notes tied up with a fun-sized candy bar. May told him it was a day to celebrate love in its entirety. For a friend, for a teacher, for just the sake of love existing everywhere you went.

Except, not everyone likes valentine's day. Some even hate it. Some would loathe the day so much that Peter feels like an idiot for caring. Dinner reservations that were going to be ignored, flowers that would go wilted and chocolates that were never going to get eaten.

Peter has a handful of nothing and the one time he really wanted to outperform himself, it was brushed off and it was his aunt’s fault for getting his hopes up about valentine’s day. He had been so thoughtful too, planning weeks ahead to book a dinner slot and a fun date. Not to mention the mini fortune he spent on roses, not that you were a giant fan of roses but every girl deserves a bouquet on valentine’s, even if they triple in price. Peter even bought a second bunch of your favorite kind, just to prove he cared.

It meant nothing. His efforts meant nothing and maybe he shouldn’t have assumed, but he never thought that you’d hate the holiday. It was a day entirely built around feelings, around love- and you just rolled your eyes at him.

“I fucking hate valentine’s day.” You said it like it was nothing, taking two bites of a banana and handing it over to Peter. He asked if you were excited, maybe even hinting at that you should be excited. Peter Parker was about to romance the hell out of you. But not anymore.

“Explain that one for me?” A toss, the peel falls into the trash can. You shrug as if you’ve never thought about it before, but it’s something you’ve held in your chest for as long as you can remember.

“It was a holiday created by girls who didn’t feel loved enough by their boyfriends, or something. I think the practice is stupid, you should treat me good and do nice things for me everyday, not just once a year. And everything is crowded! Everyone has the same lame idea about dinner and a movie and flowers and… it’s just not something I buy into.”

Peter feels every bit of him curl up and die inside. Valentines is his third favorite holiday, he adores the pinks, reds, and purples. He loves seeing couples of every stage, the beginning stages or lifelong partners. They all love the same; with everything in them.

“Well, actually, I do have a confession. Chocolate covered strawberries. They’re outrageously expensive, but I buy them every year. If you’re wondering, I was hoping we could boycott the baby holiday and eat some strawberries or something.”

A small lift in his heart, it’s something. You’d be happy with one thing and he could deliver that, but first he has to try and sway you, right? Peter needs to preach what valentine’s is about, he needs you to understand how lovely it is.

“I’m surprised you hate it so much. I figured you’d love it, since it’s pink and feelings, and stuff.” You wink at him, you think it’s a joke and Peter’s in the same boat as you. “I know, right? It always seemed so gimmicky to me, I think.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s bad.” You pretend gag, Peter feels his heart sink into the hollow of his chest. “You’re right, it’s cringy and that makes it so much worse.” Peter doesn’t agree, not even in the slightest. Nothing about it is cringy, there’s nothing embarrassing about showing you love someone.

“Right. It’s cringy and a gimmick and everyone who participates is stupid.” Maybe he’s a little cynical, it hits harder when you nod with exaggeration. “So glad you agree, petey!” He doesn’t. Peter couldn’t be further away from your opinion but he’s really not in the mood to be shut down or judged, so, he just changes the subject and tries to ignore everything crumbling apart in the back of his mind.

“Isn’t this cute?”

You squint your eyes when you read the card, a tiny smile shows. “It’s cute. Not worth…” You snatch the glorified cardstock and flip it, your eyes widen, you pretend to choke on the dollar amount. “Ten dollars, holy shit. For some glitter? Fuck that.”

You want it out of your hold, scared that if even a speckle spread you’d be forced to buy it. “What happened to the good old days of making your own card? My mom used to eat that up.”

Peter delicately sets the card down, he tries to see it how you do, but he can’t. Sure, it’s wildly marked up, but wouldn’t your partner be worth the price? Peter would buy the moon for you if he could, a ten dollar Hallmark card won’t be his holdup.

But, maybe you’d like a handmade one more. He can do that.

Peter’s trying to be mindful of your opinion while also planting the seed that valentine’s isn’t all that bad into your brain. It’s days away and all he can hear in the back of his mind is ‘I fucking hate valentine’s day.’

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! Peter- do you fucking see this?”

A romantic gesture? A public display of love and admiration? Dozens of carefully inflated heart shaped balloons? A girl crying into the arms of her friend while her partner showers her with flowers. Is it the love? Is that what you’re pointing out?

“Yeah, it’s-”

“Disgusting.”

“-cute.” Peter frowns, is that what you really thought of valentines? Nothing was swaying your mind, Peter thinks that you’re more solidified in your mindset than before.

“I’m sorry, trouble, but I’m finding it hard believing you hate valentine’s day.” It’s like he just called you a slur, you pull your hand from his and stuff it into your jacket pocket.

“I don’t hate it, I loathe it. What do you see watching that? Personally, I’m seeing gravel covered flowers and wasted space that turns into deflated balloons. Fuck that.” Peter shakes his head, you’re seeing it wrong. “It’s about the gesture.”

“It’s about how you love someone so much, there aren't enough things in the world to buy to show it, and there are never the right set of words to say it quite right. I’ll buy all the flowers in the world for you, and I’ll use all the air in my lungs for these balloons but it’ll never match the love I have for you.”

Peter clears his throat. “That's what I see, anyways. I think valentine’s day is an excuse to be a little cringy and basic because we all want that sometimes.” He might’ve finally broken through, but you crack a grin and bump your shoulder into his.

“Ah, yes, because I’m so unfulfilled that a man has never gotten me a teddy bear for valentine’s day.” Would you want one? He could get you one. Or could that be a reason you might detest the holiday, not that he’d ever take your opinion for resentment or bitterness.

“Have you ever had a valentine?” A small stumble, your hand is tied into his again. “Besides elementary, nah. And honestly, I should be happy so I don’t have to deal with all that stuff.”

‘I should be happy so I don’t have to deal with all that stuff.’ But, now you do, don’t you?

“Trouble, you do realize you’re my valentine this year, right? And I’m yours?” You feel your breath catch, no, you hadn’t realized. It’s always just been another day for you and you assume the same for Peter, it’s not like there was much to celebrate.

“It’s also just a day that ends in Y.” Is that really the answer you have? It’s just another day to you, even if you finally have someone to claim? You might not care about the holiday, but Peter does and he’s going to get his valentine’s day, no matter what.

And you’re going to enjoy a handmade card.

And a teddy bear.

Peter’s finger-combing his hair after a shower, he’s had the reservation for weeks, but he also wasn’t aware of your detestment towards red hearts and arrows.

“Wanna grab some dinner wednesday?” If he didn’t say it by name he’s hoping you won’t scream bloody mary on him. “Sure.” A smile washes over Peter’s face, it drops in a second. “Wait, isn’t that valentine’s day? Ha, yeah, no thank you. You, me, and the entire city? Fuck that.”

‘Fuck that, fuck that, fuck that.’ Weeks boiled into nothing. “But, if you wanna cuddle and watch a movie I’m down.” It’s something. He’d get to give you flowers and a card and a teddy bear and he can’t forget the strawberries. You told him you loved them.

“Good with me, trouble.”

Peter tried to sway your mind, he tried to make you enjoy the love and glitter and colors. But you hated it all. So all he has to do is ditch the flowers and the dinner and just… do nothing.

Peter’s first real valentine and all he has to do is… nothing.

Three rose bouquets tossed onto his closet floor, it was haphazardly done. Petals scattered around the cellophane, some even reached to his shoes. They were thrown in without care, they were hidden.

But they were beautiful. A few front buds have taken a beating, but the others were fully blossomed and lively. You’ve never seen roses in such a vivid red, their petals almost like velvet under your fingertips, their smell unlike any other.

The thorns have been expertly shredded, nothing but smooth, soft stems in their wake. It doesn’t matter if Peter didn’t mean to have you see them, they were too gorgeous to leave locked away in a dark room. They deserved the affection water and sunlight would give them.

You clutched all three in your arms, the weight welcomed. You laid them out nicely across his bed, the third bouquet dropped a small card and you picked it right back up.

‘Trouble-

This day was made for you.

Charlie’s at 8.

Yours,

Peter’

You bit back a smile. Charlie’s? It’s nice, too nice. And expensive. Peter got you reservations at Charlie’s? Holding the card to your chest you nearly squeal, you have no idea how he kept the secret from you. Or the roses.

When you hear his bedroom door open you spin, waiting for him to be in the doorway so you can place a thousand kisses. Instead it’s Ethan and he looks surprised. “You’re here?” He points to the flowers, “Peter gave you those?”

“I found them in his closet, he just tossed them in here! And he must’ve forgotten to tell me about Charlie’s.” Ethan doesn’t smile with you, he’s not sharing any joy. For a second you start to wonder if you were the person who was supposed to receive the gifts.

“He didn’t forget.” You scrunch your face at him, “I think he did and I need to start getting ready now. Ethan, do you know how nice Charlie’s is? It’s fucking fancy.” You’re not prepared, you don’t have anything that screams Charlie’s worthy in Peter’s closet.

“No, you’re not hearing me. There is no Charlie’s and there weren't supposed to be roses. I was supposed to get them before you got here, but, here we are. No roses and no Charlie’s.” You smack at his arms, pulling at his fingers to drop your flowers.

“They’re mine!” Ethan’s on a mission to steal them, and he’s not being gentle.

“No, you didn’t want them.”

You watch him for a second, how could he say that, of course you want them. Thirty six reminders of Peter, how could you ever say no? You fight for what's yours, Ethan allows you to keep one bouquet.

“I do want them!”

Ethan’s not being nice to you tonight, he’s gruff with his response. “No. You didn’t.’

“You keep saying didn’t! I never said I didn’t want…”

Except you did. Just like you said you didn’t want to get dinner with Peter. You feel terrible, you feel like crying. He’d had this planned for weeks and the whole time all you did was poke fun and degrade the holiday not knowing you were crushing him behind the scenes.

You wanted the flowers, but you didn’t deserve them. You hand over the last bouquet silently.

“I think it’s best if you pretend you didn’t see these.” You can’t imagine the ache Peter must have in his chest, he planned something out just for you to stomp all over it. It’s not about the value, it was the gesture. He can’t tell you how he feels, but taking you out to one of the nicest places in the city, where you know it has a month minimum reservation list makes you understand him just a little bit better.

“This is so bad, Ethan. This is so,” you suck in air, “so bad.”

“It’s not terrible,” a crinkle when he shifts weight. “But it’s not great.” You wince, if you could, you’d go back in time and shove your foot in your mouth, or tell yourself to shut the fuck up.

“Well, I mean, what the fuck?! It’s fucking Peter! How was I supposed to know he was pro valentines day?”

“How was he supposed to know you were anti valentines day?”

You sink to the bed and hold your head in your hands, “I just want Peter right now.” You want to hug him and kiss him and tell him how sorry you were. Ethan hesitates for a second, before stepping closer to lay the flowers across your lap.

“You found them. They’re yours.” You protect them from being taken, but still have self-pity. “I don’t deserve them.” Ethan scoffs, “of course you do. Everyone deserves pretty flowers.”

You pout at yourself in the mirror and fix any smudges. Brushing out any stray wrinkles your newest dress might’ve made on the way over. Ethan had very kindly instructed a pledge to pick you up an outfit so you could change before Peter got back.

With minutes to spare, he’s back and taking a deep breath at your appearance. “Wow.” A surprised hum when you kiss him, you wipe red from his bottom lip while you apologize. “I’m so sorry, petey.”

“For what?” A look around the room, red roses give him the reason. “Oh. Hey, it’s no big deal and I-” A frown when you silence him by holding a finger to his lips.

“I’m sorry. I found those flowers and all I could think about was you and how much it meant to me that you got those for me, then I saw the card and I couldn’t believe you got us reservations and I just felt… special. I’ve never had a valentine, but I get it now. It’s just a day you get to dote on me extra hard.”

Another surprise kiss, “and if you didn’t already cancel I think we can get to Charlie’s on time. But if you did, that’s okay. Because I think those are the most lovely flowers I have ever gotten, and I might have seen a little teddy bear in there but I didn’t wanna get too presumptuous.”

This time, Peter kissed you. “There’s also a homemade card.”

“You didn’t!” You fall in closer to his chest, his hands can have free reign tonight, you wore the dress just for him.

“I did. I even wrote a little poem.”

A chaste kiss, “just when I think you can’t get better.”

“There’s also glow in the dark mini golf planned for after.” A peck, “so thoughtful and handsome.”

A whisper, he’s got blown pupils and hoping he’d get another kiss. “And your strawberries are in the fridge.”

Your hearts about to explode, “fuck, I love-” you stop yourself, but you heard it and so did Peter. He brushes it off, “love?” Fuck it, you’ll both keep circling around it.

“Yeah, I love love.”

A hungry kiss, a squeeze to the back of your thighs. “Yeah, I love love, too.”

#frat!peter blurbs #peter parker blurb #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #uni extras

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pelova4president · 4 months

Text

The girlfriend scarer

Leah Williamson x McCabe!Reader

summary~ Katie’s your big sister and she takes her role very serious. She’s scaring off any girlfriend you bring home. When the one and only Leah Williamson asks you out, you couldn’t resist.

Your sister had always been protective over you, even more since you’ve moved to London to play for the same red club she’s been playing for. You are younger than her and just turned twenty when you moved away from home and to rainy England. Katie knows how it is to be young and to move away from home like that, she wanted to help you in every way she could.

The first month she insisted you’d stay with her (and Caitlin). She drove you to and from training and if you went out, which you rarely did because who did you know other than your teammates, she had your location just for safety reasons.

Katie’s just like that. When you had your first girlfriend she almost ran away because of your sister. They met at Christmas dinner and Katie had a not so nice first conversation with her. “I don’t care who you are but if you hurt her i promise you i’ll hurt you much and much more.” Katie told her after your dad had already told her some scary shit.

So it wasn’t a surprise when she left you a week later. Her reasoning was that she ‘wasn’t ready for a relationship yet’. Katie comforted you when she heard what had happened. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t atleast a bit happy she’d broken up with you. You didn’t deserve to be broken up with but that girl seemed like a player and it was better that you’d broken up now rather than later when the feelings were much more complicated.

Over the years you had a few girlfriends but the relationship was never long and important enough to introduce them to your sister. And maybe you didn’t because you already knew what would happen. If Katie got to them they wouldn’t return back to you. You knew Katie didn’t mean it in a bad way but it does seem that way sometimes, doesn’t she want to see you happy?

So when Leah asked you out after a few weeks of being a part of the squad you said yes. You had your eye on her for a long time now, how could you not. Leah was sweet and your sister spoke highly of her.

Leah had invited you over to her house and since you were still staying with Katie and Caitlin you had to come up with a little white lie, it wasn’t really a lie anyway. “Katie, Cait, i’m going to a friend of mine, bye!” you yelled after turning your location off. Katie might check your location so better safe than sorry.

When you walked up to Leah’s front door you checked yourself in your phone camera and fixed your hair up. God what are you doing? Dating behind Katie’s back and it’s her teammate and one of her bestfriends as well. You knew that this wasn’t gonna end well, how could it.

You were still deep in thought, looking at the chocolate bar in your hands when the door opened, revealing a grinning Leah. “You’ve been standing here for quite a while now. Are you gonna come in and share the chocolate or are you gonna stand there the whole evening?” the blonde asked laughing.

You walked inside and handed her the sweet bar you bought her. “Thought you’d like something chocolatey.” you smiled walking over to her couch where there were already a few snack waiting. “You know i like sweet things.” Leah winked at you.

Leah was a real charmer and that’s how she stole a kiss that evening. “You’re a good captain and teammate you know.” you told her smiling sheepishly. She chuckled and laid her hand on your thigh, “Only a good captain and teammate? I think i’m even a better kisser.”. You chuckled at her comment. “Are you laughing at me! I really am but i guess you’ll never know hm?” she said jokingly offended. The defenders eyes fell onto your lips and back to your eyes again. Leah took your chin into her hands and leaned in to kiss you, you let her and kissed her back.

“I guess you’re an alright kisser.” you said blushing. “Only alright? I guess i’ll have to kiss you again then.” Leah joked and pecked your lips once again.

Leah and you have been going on dates for a little over two months now. You weren’t official yet but you’d really like to. But then you’ll have to tell Katie, now that things weren’t that serious she didn’t have to know you told yourself.

It got harder to hide things from Katie now. You’d go on dates a few times a week and saying that you were going to the gym or having drinks with friends wasn’t good enough of an excuse anymore. So that’s why you decided to move out. You needed your own space, somewhere you could invite Leah over and not have to worry about who’s home.

Katie had her suspicions but kept them to herself (and Caitlin). She helped you move your things and even offered to set up your new furniture. She was horrible at things like that so you thanked her but sent her home later that evening.

You rang your ‘situationship’ and asked her to come over for dinner. Leah arrived with two pizza boxes and a bottle of red wine. “It’s our cheatday, we can enjoy a bit of fastfood.” she defended her foodchoice.

You gave her a little apartment tour and ended it in the kitchen, leaning on the kitchen island. “Now that i’ve got my own space you can come over more and we don’t have to sneak around so much.” you whispered, kissing her on the lips. Leah’s hand placed themselves on your hips and she hummed, “hmm i love that, baby. How about we make this official, us?” she asked you hopefully.

You leaned back and looked her in her blue eyes. “I’d love to Lee, you know that. I just don’t know what to do with Katie.” you told her. Leah sighed and nodded. “I know, we’ll tell her eventually but for now let’s just keep this all to ourselves, girlfriend.” she smiled proudly.

leahwilliamsonn posted on their story

When you were training you tried to keep things as normal as before. Vic, Kyra, Less and you were joking around on the pitch as always when your dating life became the topic of conversation.

“You’ve been smiling more since you’ve been having all these plans and no more time for us McCabe.” Less laughed. “Got yourself a girlfriend?” Kyra joked. You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the blush creeping up on your face. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, crazy girls!” you dismissed. But the trio looked at eachother and burst out in laughter, “Oh my god! Little McCabe has a secret girlfriend!” Victoria yelled. “Shhhh! Jesus why’d you have to yell man!” you scolded the three of them. Even though you were the youngest of them all it seemed like they were atleast ten years younger.

“Wait you really really have a girlfriend? We were only joking mate.” Kyra said with wide eyes. “What’s big McCabe gonna say about her little sister dating..” Vicky jokingly pushed you. “Please don’t say anything to her.” you asked them with pleading eyes.

Lessi passed the ball to you, “Don’t worry we won’t but who is she? Give us a hint.”. You sighed, you knew that you were gonna have to give them a little hint to get off the hook. “Is she on the team?” Kyra asked curiously. “Uh- yeah i guess yes.” you said passing the ball to Kyra.

You looked in Lessi’s direction, watching Leah shoot on goal. Alessia turned around, looking at what caught your attention. “Oh my god! No fucking way!” the blonde scream whispered. The other two girls looked in Alessia’s direction and saw what she had seen. “Leah is your girlfriend?” Kyra more stated than asked. “Oh my god, i don’t even know who Katie’s gonna kill now, you or Leah?” Victoria thought out loud. “Probably both.” Lessi answered her.

“Fuck, i’ve messed up haven’t i?” you sighed shooting the ball way too hard. The three girls all nodded, “Yeah, good luck.” Kyra offered you a kind smile.

Leah asked you to spend a weekend with her, out of London. You eagerly accepted, running away from your problems? Sounds perfect!

The England captain had booked a hotel in Brighton. Everything was perfect, your girlfriend had all kinds of activities planned but most took place in your hotelroom.

y/nmccabe posted on their story

You hadn’t thought about telling your sister about your relationship all weekend, well until now.

anger issues <3

who’s that on your story?

you

someone i’m seeing

anger issues <3

so your girlfriend.

you

yeah

anger issues <3

what’s her name? when are we meeting? how long has this been going on? do i know her?

you

i’ll tell you when i’m back Katie, just don’t be mad please

anger issues <3

Why didn’t you tell me

You didn’t tell Leah, she’d only worry more about it. The blonde took you to play a bit of football. You had a few days off but you both knew that you didn’t actually had vacation. You had to stay fit, especially now Leah had just returned from her ACL.

leahwilliamsonn posted on their story

After Leah posted her story, hell broke loose. Katie knew you were with your girlfriend, she also knew that Leah was a weekend away. What she didn’t expect was to open Instagram and see you on Leah’s story. Leah was the girl you were with, Leah was your girlfriend. Katie had connected all the dots.

When Leah and you got back to your room her phone buzzed a few times and eventually she got called. Katie was calling her. Leah asked you what she would call her for but you shrugged and the blonde picked up.

“Fucking Leah Williamson you’ve been shagging my little sister!” Katie yelled through the phone, her Irish accent sounding thick. Leah looked over at you, panic all over her face. “Katie mate, i don’t know what you’re ta-“ she tried before the was cut off by a swearing Katie. “Don’t fucking lie to me. How long?” Katie asked. Leah was silent for a moment “How fucking long Williamson!” your sister repeated herself. “About three months.” the blonde sighed into the phone.

You could feel Katie shaking her head over the phone. “Fuckin’ hell mate. How did you not tell me. I don’t really want to talk to the two of you right now, i’ll talk to you later…” Katie said before hanging up.

You knew Katie was hurt but you also knew that if you’d told her earlier on she wouldn’t have a great reaction either.

Both you and Leah knew it was time to tell Katie either way. Your girlfriend drove you to Katie’s apartment, you’d bought her a box of chocolates in the hopes that she’ll forgive you sooner. Knocking on the door Leah grabbed your hand, feeling your nervousness. She kissed you on top of your head and assured you everything would be fine. “The secret’s out, she wants you to be happy. Only i will get murdered.” Leah tried to lighten the mood.

Katie opened the door and silently allowed you inside. The three of you were sitting on the couch with still no word spoken.

You broke the silence “Katie, i’m really sorry i hurt you but i just didn’t want you to react the way you always do.”. Katie looked at you and scoffed, “What do you even mean ‘react the way you always do’?”.

You rolled your eyes at her. “Katie you scare off any girl i bring home, the first few times i didn’t know why they’d break up with me but then i did the math and they always broke up with me after they’d met you. I get that you mean it good and you know, things like that but it’s not okay. I didn’t want you to be like with Leah.” you explained. “I don’t scare all of your girlfriends off, they’re just… soft.” Katie grinned as she defended herself.

Leah rolled her eyes at the brunette and spoke up. “Mate, i would’ve been dead by now if you hadn’t found out over the phone.” your girlfriend said shuddering at the thought of what your sister had said over the phone. “Okay yeah yeah whatever. Who knew about this already?” Katie asked trying to have another conversation topic.

“Lia and Steph” “Lessi, Ky and Vic” Leah and you said at the same time. Leah looked at you with a raised brow. “They tricked me into telling them!” you yelled, “Besides, you told Lia and Steph!”. Leah tried to argue but Katie interrupted her. “So basically the whole team knew, except me.” your sister said suspiciously calm. You and your girlfriend smile guiltily at her.

y/nmccabe

liked by liawaelti and 102.728 others

days away 🤍

comments

victoriapelova who is thaaatt??

leahwilliamsonn cute 😘

alessiarusso99 mysterious girls

katie_mccabe11 sneaky bastards

↳ y/nmccabe oh shut up

kyracooneyx the disgustingly cheesy girlsss

↳ y/nmccabe the annoying little kid

↳ kyracooneyx you’re younger

You stayed the night at Leah’s and she drove you to London Colney. Walking into the training centre the girls were already singing Strawberry kisses in the gym. The two of you walked hand in hand and when Jen saw that she yelled “Look who finally told scary McCabe!”.

When you kissed Leah on the lips after training you heard all kinds off ‘whoos’ and ‘oeeehhs’ around the room. Leah and you walked out of the training centre but Leah got pulled back by your sister. “Can i talk to you for a minute?” she asked Leah.

The two of them walked back into the centre and Katie spoke again. “So i guess my little sister wouldn’t appreciate this but you know, i need to. If you ever hurt her feelings or think about hurting her in any shape or form, i’m gonna hurt you. And don’t think i won’t just because you’re my friend and captain alright?” Katie said trying to intimidate Leah. “All clear mate.” Leah spoke tapping your sister on her shoulder. “Okay so now i’ve done my part , i know you make her happy and you love her. I love you both very much and i guess you’d be an alright sister in law.” Katie joked before bringing Leah in for a hug.

y/nmccabe posted on their story

kyracooneyx posted on their story

leahwilliamsonn posted on their story

Dating Leah had it’s perks, she drove you to training every day, made sure you were on time, she was the captain and was the perfect model for all your photos. And the biggest positive, Katie and your girlfriend got along which was the first time Katie got along with any of your girlfriends.

The teasing however never stopped. Kyra called you a simp and gagged whenever you and Leah showed any physical affection to eachother. Vic laughed every time you tripped over your feet when looking at Leah flexing her muscles in the gym. You thought that Lessi would have some sympathy but she was just as bad, joking about your love eyes and how you were such a softy now.

Katie was just like always, protective but on a distance. Leah was there to protect you now.

leahwilliamsonn, y/nmccabe

liked by keirawalsh and 183.729 others

little bit of everything and a whole lot of you.

comments

katie_mccabe11 disgusting 🤢

liawaelti cuteee!!

kyracooneyx mccabe’s a simp

↳ y/nmccabe wrong mccabe insta account xx

victoriapelova more clumsy than lessi these two

↳ leahwilliamsonn i’m not clumsy!

↳ victoriapelova y/n is clumsy enough for the both of you

alessiarusso99 lovey dovey eyes 😍

russovicx23 they’re so cutteeee

arsenalw0men1 i’m convinced they’re soulmates

A/N i’ve just seen anyone but you and i actually liked it?! Normally i hate romcoms but this one was actually good. The song ‘Anyone but you’ by Still Woozy is so so so sooo good. Anyway, the second Leah fic is hereee!!

I also kinda want to write a Sydney Lohmann x Georgia Stanway x Reader fic… any ideas??

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #leah williamson #woso community #victoria pelova #arsenal wfc #engwnt #alessia russo #kyra cooney cross #leah williamson x reader #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe

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riediaries · 4 months

Text

part 1

eight am marks the first ever class of your daughter and it's now seven am, satoru's still busy perfecting his daughter's braids.

"ah.. this is so hard." he groans as he brushes her hair to start again.

his daughter looks up to him in the reflection of the mirror she's infront with. seeing her father crouched down on her little mirror to match her height makes her giggle.

"should mommy take over now?" you opened the door.

he chuckles nervously as he eyes you on the door through the mirror. "nah, daddy will finish this in a blink of an eye."

as silly as him is his daughter, she makes a cute face as she blinks and looks at her dad. still struggling to do her requested braid for her first day of school.

"daddy is a liar." she accuses him silly and sticks her tongue out.

this made satoru halt the movements of his fingers on her hair and kiss her cheek. "no, he's not. daddy just loves you too much, baby." he gives her another kiss on the other side of her cheek, paying them equally of his attention.

she giggles at the affection of her father giving her at the moment and turns to you. "mommy, kiss!"

you obeys her and crouches down for your lips to meet her cheeks.

"how many times did daddy make your hair a mess?" you tease him as you question your daughter.

she raises her hand and puts up a three fingers, indicating that satoru is indeed having a rough time braiding her hair.

"what about pigtails, baby? you don't want pigtails anymore?" you suggest to help your husband.

"i want braids so badly." she whines. the similarity is real. satoru also whines when he's not getting what he wants. "i wanna have a curly hair after school!" she exclaims.

"and i want daddy to do it!" she adds.

of course, satoru can't deny his sweet daughter that's why for the past seven days, he tried very hard to practice braiding using your hair.

you even got mad at him one time when he barely untangled the hair he messed up.

you sigh.

sure, satoru is stubborn but her daughter is more than that.

you glance at the clock. it's now seven fifteen, thirty minutes more before the school bus will pick up your daughter.

"you need help, honey?" you ask your husband as he continue to struggle.

he turns his attention to you and smiles. "yes, please." and that became much more easier. mommy knows best, after all.

"it looks... good." you hum and give his back a pat.

he looks at you in horror. "you paused!" he accuses you. "it's not, right? please tell me it's not!" he dramatically hugs you and whines on your ears.

"what? it was not the greatest but you did your best." you scoff and pulls away after hugging him back. "well, at least your daughter loves it." you tell him as he turns to her.

she's busy checking herself out on her mirror, admiring the hair his father and with the help of her mother braided.

"thank you daddy! i love it!" she excitedly put on her backpack as she runs through the door, her school bus waiting for her by their gate.

"uh-huh. where's mommy and daddy's kiss, young lady?" you point at your cheek as you crouches down at her level.

she runs back to the both of you and give each of your cheeks a quick kisses but for satoru, he can't release his daughter just like that.

he hugs her as he pepper her face little and little kisses. on the side of your eye, you can see his hand sneaking on her backpack.

you raise your eyebrow at the activity, eyeing warily your husband.

"be a good girl, okay? and don't tell mommy this."

he kisses her once again before letting her run off to the bus.

"bye mommy! bye daddy!" she waves both of her hand for the both of you. of course, you also wave your hand to exchange goodbyes.

it was your now turn to question him.

"what was that?" you give him a stare that made his body freezes up but he plays it well.

"i may or may not sneaked a chocolate bar on her bag." he cheekily said.

"what?!" your eyes widened. "sato—"

"it was to console her about her hair, okay?" he gives you a quick kiss on the lips and runs off to the door.

you could only mutter sigh and went inside the house, thinking of how will you hide the sweets from now on.

#rie.writes #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #girl dad gojo

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elliespassagerprincess · 6 months

Text

Headcannons: Milf!abby anderson x reader (part 2)

Part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

☆ Milf Abby who tries really hard to talk to you but you’re making it so fucking difficult.

☆ Milf Abby who tries calling, texting, literally all forms of communication but you leave her on read and you don’t even pick up.

☆ Milf Abby who’s frustrated but she knows she deserves it.

☆ Milf Abby who wakes up one morning to see you sent her a text.

With shaky hands she clicked on the message. The simple text read 4 words:

“me, you this Friday?”

Abby blinked, and she sat in silence for a while.

Holy shit this was happening.

She responded with a simple “ok ill pick you up at six”.

☆ Milf Abby who jumps up from her bed and yells “I got the girl!” But soon regrets it when Aubrey walks in and tells her to shut up.

☆ Milf Abby who was on cloud nine all week.

☆ Milf Abby who tells her coworkers about the pretty girl she’s going on a date with on Friday.

☆ Milf Abby who smiles at you, when she picks up Aubrey, and her heart feels like it could explode when you give her a little wave.

☆ Milf Abby who asks Aubrey what your favorite color is because she wants to wear an outfit in that color, because she read in an article it’ll increase her chances.

“C’mon baby tell me” Abby groaned.

“Give me chocolate first”

Abby’s jaw dropped. “Aubrey its 9pm, you know you can’t eat chocolate at this time”

“No chocolate, no color”

Abby let out a sigh as she walked out of Aubrey’s room to her secret chocolate stash. She pulled out a chocolate bar, and she gave it to the little girl. Aubrey immediately opened the bar and she took a big bite.

“ok talk”

“she likes green” Aubrey spoke with a mouth full of chocolate.

☆ Milf Abby who takes her daughter to bed, and orders a custom suit in green.

☆ Milf Abby who goes to work the next day and finds out they hired someone new.

“Who is he?” she asked while looking at Nora.

“I don’t know man”

“as long as she doesn’t break my record”

Nora rolled her eyes “of course he won’t abs, you’ve won the most cases in this whole firm”

☆ Milf Abby who tenses when she sees who was hired.

☆ Milf Abby who felt sick when he walked towards her.

“hi I’m- “

“heaters dad”

“Yeah” he chuckled “my name is actually Jason”

“I’m Abby”

The air was tense.

“what do you want dude” Abby said irritated.

“Look are you and the new teacher together?” He asked. Abby felt her eye twitch at his question.

“It’s none of your business”

☆ Milf Abby who thought her week was ruined, but when she got home her suit had arrived.

☆ Milf Abby who almost pees herself on Friday morning because today is the day.

☆ Milf Abby who takes the day off to get away from Jason and to relax.

☆ Milf Abby who spends hours on Pintrest to look for the perfect hairstyle.

☆ Milf Abby who’s ready by 3 in the afternoon.

☆ Milf Abby who asks Aubrey and her dad how she looks before she walks out.

“So how do I look?” she watched her dad smile at her.

“you look perfect Abby”

“now go get your girl!” she heard Aubrey yell.

☆ Milf Abby who made you a bracelet, and flowers out of paper.

☆ Milf Abby who sees Jason’s car outside the school.

☆ Milf Abby whose heart shatters when she hears your conversation.

“I’m going on a date with Abby” she heard your voice.

“Isn’t she too old for you? She’s in her 40s isn’t she?”

“what does age have to with anything?”

“she’s old”

yeah she was.

fuck, Abby knew too old. She didn’t even stay to listen to the conversation.

Abby ran out the school and she sobbed in her car. She should’ve know this would never work.

If only she stayed behind to hear how you defended her. If only she waited for you.

☆ Milf Abby who came home crying.

“Mommy what’s wrong- “Abby walked right past her daughter

“it’s ok let her go” she heard her dad say.

☆ Milf Abby who fell asleep crying.

☆ Milf Abby who wakes up with multiple texts from you.

“Hey where are you?”

“Abby?”

“are you ok?”

“I’m waiting for you”

“I’m home now”

“did you change your mind”

“Abby?”

With a shaky breath Abby blocked your number.

☆ Milf Abby who ignores your existence once again.

☆ Milf Abby who sees you smiling at her, but she just nods back at you.

☆ Milf Abby who tells you have no future together.

Aubrey climbed into the car, and before Abby could drive away she heard a knock on her window. It was you.

“Hey” Abby said after lowering the window.

“Hi Abby- “

“call me Mrs. Anderson” she watched as your face dropped.

You cleared your throat “I’m sorry Mrs. Anderson, I just wanted to ask what happened the other night?”

“I realized that this wasn’t going to work”

“why?”

“because you’re too young. I need someone more mature”

“Oh”

Abby could feel the sadness radiating off you.

“You should go for someone your own age”

“Ok Mrs. Anderson, I understand. Thank you for your time”

☆ Milf Abby who feels bad after her daughter calls her stupid.

☆ Milf Abby who makes a realization by the help of her daughter.

“You made my teacher sad”

“Aubrey I don’t care stop telling me- “

“you do care. I see the way you look at her” Abby sighed at her daughter’s answers.

She does care. She downloaded social media to stalk you. She stared learning internet slang for you.

“Heathers dad said that he wants to ask her on a date-”

“what?”

“I heard him say that he’s going to ask her out but then I said no because you wanted to go on a date with her”

Then it clicked.

He was there that day to cause trouble.

fuck.

He wanted to get into Abby’s head. And he did. He started working at Abby’s law firm to watch her. To figure out her moves. Her weaknesses.

He must’ve heard her and Nora talk about the age gap. She made a mistake.

☆ Milf Abby who runs to unblock your number and calls you.

☆ Milf Abby who felt like she could cry when you didn’t pick up.

☆ Milf Abby who whimpers your name when you eventually pick up the phone.

“what do you want Mrs. Anderson?”

“No look I made a mistake, please listen- “

“you can’t keep doing this….You say you like me then you ghost me- I’m sick of your shit Abby”

“look I heard Jason say that you deserve someone younger- “

“well maybe I do”

Abby went quite at that.

You spoke up again: “I need someone who’s mature, someone who can communicate but what do I know Abby I’m immature, am I not? Because apparently you know what that maturity means”

“Please” she sighed.

“Please I’m begging you” Abby begged again.

The line went quite for a while.

“Come to my class tomorrow so we can talk”

☆ Milf Abby who goes to work the next day and she goes to Jason’s office.

☆ Milf Abby who confronts him, and almost beats the shit out of him when he calls her a grandma.

☆ Milf Abby who gets into trouble but it was worth it.

☆ Milf Abby who goes to your class later that day.

She watched as you sat behind your desk. “Sit” you commanded and she did.

☆ Milf Abby who tells you the whole story.

“sorry won’t cut it Abby, you said the same thing the last time”

“Just because he said that doesn’t mean you have the right to ghost me”

“I’m sorry”

“Look just one more chance please”

“why should I trust you?”

“because I’m me”

You rolled your eyes at Abby’s response.

Abby reached out to grab your head, and your head snapped in the direction of you interlocked fingers.

“words mean nothing” you spoke.

“just trust me please and-” but before she could finish you leaned in to kiss her.

It was slow, passionate, and it was filled with so much love. Abby pulled away, only to get up and walk to side of the desk where you sat. She went on knees and she and put her hands on your waist. The two of you started at each other.

“Fuck” she breathed before you kissed her again.

☆ Milf Abby who jumps up when she heard Aubrey yell “ew!”

☆ Milf Abby who was really embarrassed.

☆ Milf Abby who turned as red as a tomato, she felt like a teenager being caught in the act.

“Why did you go on your knees?” you asked, still heavily breathing.

“it’s a way of showing submission” she shrugs.

“I’m trying to show you that you have me, despite our age difference” Abby explained.

“I’d let you do anything to me” she confessed.

☆ Milf Abby who goes home that night and smile the whole time.

☆ Milf Abby who keeps touching her lips, because yours were there.

☆ Milf Abby who apologizes to Aubrey for seeing such an act.

“It’s ok” the little girl reassured her.

“Now go get her before Heathers dad does”

☆ Milf Abby who shows up to school the next day to bring you lunch.

☆ Milf Abby who spells out the words “May i be your girlfriend?” with different fruit in the lunch box. All you did was smile at the sight.

☆ Milf Abby who was chewing her nails, waiting for your response.

“This is very romantic Anderson” you spoke. She watched as you but the lunch box on the table, you walked towards her.

“Get on your knees Abby” and she did so immediately.

“Why?” she asked while being on her knees.

“you’re too tall, I can’t kiss you when you’re standing”

The two of you shared a quick kiss.

“So is it a yes?” Abby asked, her lips inches away from yours.

“Yeah”

“Fuck yes” she breathed as she got up, picking you up and placing you on your desk. The two of you shared another kiss before you pulled away.

“Promise me something”

“What?”

“No more ghosting”

“yes ma’am”

“you’ll tell me if you feel insecure”

“yes”

“and one more thing Abby”

“what?”

“you aren’t too old for me. I like my women mature” you added as you wrapped your arms around her neck. Abby chuckled.

☆ Milf Abby who wanted to kiss you again before she heard your daughter yell “fucking finally” as she stood at the door.

“Who taught you that word?”

“grandpa did”

“of course he did”

☆ Milf Abby who was the happiest women ever, since that moment.

☆ Milf Abby who knew you were the one.

☆ Milf Abby who already goes wedding ring shopping and who plans your future together despite only dating you for 2 days at that point.

My pookies (the tag list): @mousymaven @lia-winther @zombholic

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aaronhotchswife · 7 months

Text

Getaway

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

When Strauss gave each member of the team 4 days off, it's finally the opportunity to do what you guys talked about for months : a weekend getaway to a cottage.

Warnings : smut, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, alcohol consuming, suggestive language, minors DNI

Stars could be seen in the sky, fireflies in the woods. The team was sitting near a fire, talking and laughing. Sitting next to you was Hotch, jogging pants and a hoodie on him, his cologne filling your nose. You couldn't help but smile at his outfit, not really used to see him without a suit. You always found him beautiful and kind and everything but he was your boss so no matter how beautiful he was, he was out of reach. But it was weird how you missed him even if he wasn't yours. And maybe, you told yourself, that the worst way to miss someone is for them to be right beside you and you know you can't have them.

Derek and Emily were drinking vodka straight out the bottle, sharing with Garcia and JJ. When everyone was tipsy enough, Morgan proposed his favorite game ever : Truth or Dare.

It was not that you hated that game, but it's something you always played in a bar, without Hotch and Rossi so when he proposed that, you knew that maybe your deepest secret aka being in love with your boss while be out.

"Alrighhhht, babygirl, truth or dare ?" He asked, looking at Garcia.

"Mmmh, dare."

"I dare you to read, out loud, the last dirty test you send." He said giggling.

"You bitch chocolate thunder arghh." She sighed, opening her phone before speaking again, clearing her throat "I love when I’m ass up on the bed, and you’re balls deep in me."

JJ and Emily almost chocked on their drinks, Garcia being as red as a tomato and you're pretty sure you looked over Hotch to see his reaction.

"Well, that's direct." Rossi said chuckling.

"Alright, alright." She waved everyone with her hand. "My turn! Let's see...y/n, truth or dare ?" She asked.

"Truth."

"Did you finally had sex or are you still on the virgin side ?"

Your cheeks heated up automatically. You were a shy girl, not with your friends or family but you were "Spencer like" meaning that you didn't really know how to flirt and how to act around guys and all. Mostly everyone on the team knew you were a virgin, something that been said in a previous Truth or Dare game.

"Well unfortunately I am still a virgin." You responded, bringing your bottle of beer to your lips to take a sip, hoping it would make you less awkward.

"We should find you someone !" JJ exclaimed.

"It's okay, I'm not in a hurry." You laughed.

"Well, pretty boy over here is a virgin too, you could do it with him." Morgan said, talking about Spencer.

"I told you that in all confidentiality Derek. But sorry y/n, don't take it wrong but you're not really my type."

You faked a expression of hurt before speaking "Oh don't worry about that Spence, you're not really mine either."

Knowing that your type was sitting next to you.

"What's your type then?" Morgan teased.

"Woah easy there, one question at the time, wait for your next round."

When it was in fact again your time to answer a question, Emily asked who was your type, earning a high five by Derek at the same time.

"Well eum, tall, dark hair, older than me." You chuckled.

"Like Hotch?" Rossi laughed, getting a "shut it" look from Hotch.

You only responded by a laugh, wanting this moment to be over.

The next day, it had been settled that the team spend the day at the beach. You made sandwiches for everyone, packing drinks and chips. Arriving there, Morgan and Penelope ran to the water while you laid with JJ and Emily, trying to tan a bit. You felt naked, only with your little red swimsuit. Your gaze focused on Aaron, his chest in evidence, talking with Rossi about something you couldn't hear.

"C'mon man, you're drooling just by looking at her."

"You heard her last night, she wouldn't even admit I'm her type, I don't want to get rejected and look at that, Morgan's all after her anyway."

"Someone sounds jealous."

Morgan was in fact hitting on you, something he did often. You didn't mind, knowing that it didn't mean anything. Hotch saw you laughed at something Morgan said, making his jaw clenched involuntary. He knew Morgan was checking you out but who was he kidding. You were gorgeous with your hair tied in a low bun, sunglasses on your nose and your hot body in that pretty swimsuit. All he could think about was the conversation of yesterday, about you being a virgin, it was news for him. He told himself that if you let him, he would help you with that. It was not just physical for him, no. He grew up to care about you, to know how you took your coffee and to love hearing your laugh. You were his subordinate and he needed to be raisonnable so he never tried anything but if you let him a chance, maybe he would. He wasn't the type of guy to get in relationship often or to be a womanizer like Derek but he would go for a relationship if it meant to be with you.

After a game of beach volley where your team constituted of Hotch, JJ and Emily totally smashed the other one, everyone was getting hungry and the tacos restaurant near the beach seemed to call out your names.

Walking to the restaurant, Garcia noticed a little circus with some roller coasters.

"Omg guys!! We need to do them !"

Everyone looked hype to do it except you. You're not scared of a lot of things in life, except spiders and well...roller coasters. But good thing that you're a good actress and can hide the fact that you already wanted to cry. Aaron was there so you told yourself that you needed to look tough.

You sat next to Hotch, buckling up. You tried to focus on Hotch's cologne, while the guy checked the seat belt. When the roller coaster started, your hands were gripping the lap bar in front on you so hard making your knuckles turn white. Hotch must have noticed because his murmured something in your ear.

"You're alright ?"

You couldn't even looked in his eyes, yours fixed in front of you, trying to stay calm and tell yourself that nothing bad will happen.

"M'fine, just scared."

He laughed, his laugh warming your heart. You couldn't get enough of it. He grabbed your hand, murmuring "maybe this will help."

It did in fact help. Well, the roller coaster was still scary and you still hated it but with Aaron's big hand in yours, every thing was possible. He kept his hand in yours during all of the ride, often checking up on you to see if you were okay.

Hotch's little trick didn't go unnoticed because later, when you were waiting for your food, Morgan leaned next to you teasing you with some "yeah I saw what boss man did earlier, holding your hand." You looked up in the air, annoyed, responding with a "I'm scared of roller coasters and he saw right through me."

The same night, when you went to bed, you fell asleep with the feeling of Aaron's hand in yours.

The next day, the boys went golfing while the girls...and Spencer -who wasn't much of a gofler-went shopping. You told them all about the day before, and Spencer was quick to tell you statistics about how often he was looking at you. Even if it made you bubbly, you tried not thinking of it, only thinking that he was only being a good friend and that he checked on you like everybody else.

After dinner that night, the team sat next to the fire, a bit like the first night. Morgan who brought his guitar was scatting some words making Garcia laugh.

"Hey, y/n, weren't you in a glee club in high school ?" Garcia asked, her head resting on Derek's shoulder.

"I was actually. I'm a former theatre kid."

At this point of the night, most of the team was already a little bit drunk. So when JJ proposed you to sing something, you agreed with all the liquid courage in your body.

You took the guitar, positioning it on your legs, and started to play one of your favorite song. Hotch who was in front of you couldn't keep his eyes off you and he's not sure if he's dreaming when you sing the words looking at his eyes. Your voice sweet as honey filling his head. He could hear it all his life.

'Cause all of the small things that you do

Are what remind me why I fell for you

And when we're apart, and I'm missing you

I close my eyes and all I see is you

And the small things you do'

After a while, everyone went to bed, leaving you alone with Hotch, still siting near the almost dead fire. Neither of you were talking, only the nature sound could be heard. During the night, he moved to a seat next to you. His voice was the first one to break the silence.

"I didn't know you could sing...or play guitar."

"I can play piano too." You chuckled.

"You're perfect."

Another silence.

The temperature outside getting hotter.

"I'm sorry, I should've said that." He mumbled.

"It's okay. Really. Thank you I guess ?" You smiled to him. Your sweet sweet smile. The smile he would do anything to see.

Your gaze went from him back to the fire, your knees on your chest, while your head was laying on your knee, and in that moment, he swears he never saw you so peaceful. His eyes went from the fire back to you, taking you all in.

It was something he found himself doing too often. Whenever he could find a moment, an excuse. His gaze would linger on your frame, your face, your lips. The lips he dreamed of kissing for the past year. He wondered how good they taste, knowing that they'll probably soft. He tried thinking about something else than the fact that his feelings are probably one-sided but nothing helps and he can feel himself getting hard thinking about you. He needed you closer, so when he put his hand on your knee, your eyes lifted up to meet his, the same smile you had earlier still on your face.

His eyes made their way to your lips, back to your eyes before leaning him gently. As he expected it, your lips were soft, sweet from the drink you had earlier. His hands found their way to your cheeks while yours tentatively rested on in back. You had kissed guys before, not a lot, but it was never like this. It was never that mind blowing. You pulled away in need for air and Aaron's forehead rest against yours. His fingers grazing your cheek.

"You're so beautiful y/n. If you knew how I was dying to do this." He murmured.

"Aaron." You responded, breathless.

"I love your eyes, and your lips, and the way you srunch your nose when something makes you shy." And with that, you scrunched your nose, your eyes still looking at his.

"Like that." He said, closing the space between you and him.

"About what you said yesterday..." Your heart skipped a beat, kinda afraid of what he'll tell you. "I would like to be your first, if you want, of course." He laughed softly.

"You don't have to Aaron."

"I want to. I've been thinking about this moment for so long and to be the first one to make you feel that good...I want it y/n."

In that moment, you don't know what got over you but you took his hand, leading him inside, to your bedroom. Still holding Aaron's hand, he led you to your bed, carefully laying you on it, his lips not leaving yours. You could feel the bulge in his pants against your heat and it made you grind against him. His lips made their way to your neck, under your ear while his hands made their ways to the hem of your shirt, pushing it further up, asking for the permission to undress you. When you nod, Aaron takes off your shirt and pants before kissing you again, keeping eye contact with you as he kissed down your chest to your stomach, down to your thighs as he pushed them apart slowly. He left small kisses on top of your underwear before making his way back to your mouth, his fingers grazed your back to undo your bra, before taking off his clothes.

"Are you sure you want to do this ?" He asked concerned.

"Yes, please Aaron. I want you, I want this." You murmured, wanting him to make you feel good.

He hooked his fingers to the hem of your panties, before kissing the top of your heat, his lips against your folds, slowly licking up and down, pushing one finger in, then two, until you were collapsing beneath him. Your hand reached his hair, and when he looked up to you, you swore you could've come just with that sight. Sitting up, your hand found the hem of his boxers, pushing them down slowly, your breath getting caught when you saw how big he was. Tentatively, you put your hand around it, making up and down movements.

"Fuck." He moaned, his head falling back.

"I wanna taste you." You said, before kissing his tip, leaving small licks on it. His hand grabbed your hair, pushing your mouth down a little bit. Although, it wasn't long before Aaron took your mouth away.

"Did I do something wrong ?" You asked with a small voice.

"No, fuck no, I was gonna cum and I want to wait." He reassured you, pushing you gently on the mattress.

"Put your hands on my shoulders and squeeze if it hurts, and tell me if you need to stop, okay ?" He instructed.

"Okay."

Aaron slowly pushed the tip of his cock into your aching hole. He took a sharp breath as he pushed into you, feeling the walls of your pussy clench around him. When you squeezed his shoulders a little bit, he stopped to look it your eyes, seeing small tears in the corner of them.

"Hey, hey it's okay, you're doing really great baby."

The sweet name made your pussy clench harder against him and Aaron had to fought not to push hard into you.

"Move, please, Aaron, move please."

And with that, the pain made its way to pleasure and with Aaron sweet sounds in your ear, and each stroke of him against that perfect spot made you grip the headboard just that little bit tighter. "Aaron." And the way you say his name, that breathy moan that spills from your lips, the knowledge that he is the reason for it, pushes him right to the precipice.

"Thank you for that." You smiled, looking up at him. His hand stroking your shoulder and your hair.

"Thanks to you, love." Are the last words you hear before falling asleep, in the arms of the man you love.

#aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds #hotch x you #thomas gibson #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut

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ashlynredonovitch · 4 months

Text

Secrets In The Street

Warnings: none

Prompt: “basically y/n is a poor girl on the streets and pickpockets/shoplifts to survive, and she does that to willy but he’s super kind to her instead of telling the police on her. Then they fall in love.” - @riordanness (THANK YOU!)

“Come back here you!” A woman’s voice yelled from behind, as you sprint down an alley, a bright, crisp apple in hand from her cart.

You weren’t a runner, not in the slightest, so being chased by a woman for having an apple -well, stealing an apple- wasn’t on your list of things to today. You couldn’t help it, you were hungry. The woman wasn’t even around, you had no clue how she saw you.

You hear the woman groan from behind and turn around just in time to see her give up and walk away. Who knows some other person on the streets could’ve stolen more of her produce.

“Oh well, at least it’s something,” you muttered as you trailed along the darkening alley, holding it carefully so you can keep it safe for later. Walking in the direction towards the bench you spent most nights.

It was obviously nothing special, but no one dared to take your bench. You had a raggedy blanket that you stole from someone a while ago. A little bag with a few things of clothes you found that others had gotten rid of, and that was it.

You had heard of Mrs. Scrubitt's boardinghouse when you first arrived, but initially said no when Bleacher had came up to you. He came to your bench many times, and he eventually stopped insisting after many denials. After everything you had heard through the chain of the Galeries Gourmet, you were glad you hadn’t taken his offer though. At least there was a chance of something out here, better than being stuck in a laundry house for twenty-something years.

Nothing new ever happened in the Gourmet, the same Chocolate Cartel shooing everyone away, you had heard of one man getting through though. Willy Wonka, you had heard of his name. Apparently some magic chocolates? Even though the idea seems preposterous, you were intrigued. You, however, had heard from the gossip that his looks had caught the attention of many along the streets too. So, it apparently wasn’t only the chocolate that had gotten people interested.

Carefully hiding your apple, you started your walk towards the way of the Gourmet, wanting to investigate this new Wonka chocolate yourself.

“It’s certainly grand,” you say, as you walk into the store with the velvety magenta curtains, with a chocolate-looking tree as the centerpiece of the store, “I’m impressed.”

“Hi, I’ve never seen you around here,” a man with a can walked up to you, a top hat on his head, wearing a pleasant smile on his face.

“My name is y/n, y/n l/n, I don’t hang around the Galerie Gourmet much, not really my place of adventure.” You muttered as you look at all of the hanging candy around you, children brushing past you, trying to reach for different sweets.

The man nods his head, as he takes in your appearance, “I get it, I lived on a boat for seven years. My name is Willy, Willy Wonka”

You were not expecting that, he lived on a boat for a while, this interesting looking man who owned this place. You tried to send a brief smile in his direction, “so you’re the one who I heard sent the chocolate-trio to jail, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Wonka looked out the windows, to the places where the old chocolate stores resided in the Gourmet, now empty, as he quickly smirked, “well it had to be done, they were breaking the law, it was just a matter of time.”

You chuckled as you saw the man’s face beam towards a woman and small child who was excitingly grabbing a chocolate bar, “I have to go, it was nice meeting you, y/n.” Wonka said as he smoothly strides over to another family to talk to them.

“Likewise,” you whispered as he was already gone. You felt awful, you wanted to try his chocolate, people here have talked ‘it’s the best chocolate I’ve ever tasted’ many have claimed, and now you wanted a bite. How do you steal from someone who seemed so nice?

The trick to being a pickpocket though, is not getting caught, and you’ve had your own share of the situation going both ways. You quickly grab a little wrapped chocolate and pretend to exam it, glancing to make sure no one else is watching, before quickly stuffing it in your pocket.

“Hey!” A voice yelled, you turned to see if anyone was there, and was met with a small, orange man? You had never seen anyone, if it was a human at all, like it.

“Lofty?” You heard Wonka yell as he came running towards the area your standing in. Bolting quickly, you dodge the running kids and chasing parents, as you try to weave your way to the exit. Just about as you were at the doors, a cane came in front of your middle, stopping your motions rather quickly, “and what do you think you’re doing?” Willy asked, you were close, so close.

“Nothing, I don’t know what that man was talking about, I don’t have anything I promise.” You say as you did a little circle to prove your innocence.

“Why don’t I believe you?” He asked, as an audience formed around you two.

“I don’t know, I didn’t steal anything, Mr. Wonka, I assure you that.” You muttered, wishing everyone would ignore you two, you just wanted to try his chocolate.

“Come with me y/n, we can talk back here.” Wonka guided you towards a room in the back, something that looked like an office of sorts, “I know you took a piece of chocolate.” He sat down in his chair, prompting you to sit down on the one opposite the desk.

You felt defeated, you hadn’t ever actually gotten caught by someone, “I’m sorry.”

Willy quirked his brow as he stared at you across the desk, “so you admit it? Surprised, honestly, I didn’t think you would.”

At that you got upset, “listen I might’ve tried to take chocolate, but I’ve heard everyone talk. People say it’s the best chocolate they’ve ever had. I’ve only had apples or other stolen things to eat for a year and a half. The chocolate cartel knew me well, they would stop me at the door cause they knew I couldn’t pay for it. So do it, call the new chief of police, at least in jail I’ll have a bed.”

Willy stood and put his hands on the desk examining you, transferring his weight, “no.”

“I’m sorry, no?” You were shocked, he caught you stealing and isn’t going to call you in?

“No, there’s something about you. You intrigued me when I first saw you walk in. I’m not going to call the new chief of police. I’m actually going to give you twenty silver sovereigns.” Willy said as he opened the drawer with the money inside of it.

Flabbergasted, shocked, surprised, there weren’t any other words to describe it. You were stealing from him, and now he was giving you money? What kind of man is this? Well…a cute one, but that’s besides the point.

“I can see your shock, my mom raised me well before she passed. If you want to steal a small piece of chocolate, you must be desperate, please take it.” Willy said handing you the sovereigns, a pink flush presenting high upon his cheeks.

“Of all the times to be caught,” you whispered, glancing up in time to seem him removing his coat and hat, “at least it was by someone nice.” A faint blush forming on your cheeks as well.

Willy smiled as he walked around in front of you, “I don’t want you sleeping wherever you are, you can work here, there’s an extra room, we could put a bed in there or something.”

“I can’t believe you’re offering me anything, you could’ve had me arrested.” You told him, examining his brunette curls framing his face for the first time.

“I was taught to help someone in need, and you seem like a good person, you just need a little help. No shame in that, I was caught by Scrubitt and Bleacher when I first arrived. I needed help too. Look at this place, I have more than enough sovereigns to help you out right now.” Willy whispered inching closer to you, as he held out his hand.

Your eyes welled up with tears, no one had been this kind to you in a while, “you have no clue how much this means to me.”

“Well, then you’ll just have to stay here until I know.” Wonka smiled as he leaned in to press his lips to yours.

Let’s just say, you never had to worry about sovereigns or spend another night on that bench ever again.

#wonka x reader #fanfic #timothée chalamet #willy wonka #wonka #wonka 2023 #wonka movie #i love him #he has my heart #the way he says chocolate itches my brain #chalamet wonka #willy wonka x reader

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ktsumu · 2 months

Text

FIFTH TIME’S A CHARM

cw: suggestive content, nudity happy valentine's day ᡣ𐭩

This year, for the first time ever, Tooru doesn’t buy flowers for his valentine. You are the only witness to the crime.

His first girlfriend, back in junior high, got roses. She got him roses, too, with a chocolate bar he ended up giving to his sweet tooth sister. They were real, shockingly, smelt good too.

They were discounted, and it’s a basic gift, but he was twelve and had only been seeing her for three weeks.

(And they broke up two weeks later, so he has no regrets about the roses that cost his mom less than fifteen bucks.)

The second girlfriend was a little more serious.

Tooru thinks he might’ve been fourteen for that one. He liked her—she was kind, pretty, had a nice laugh. He remembers holding hands in the hallway at school and their first kiss (well, peck) was surrounded by a bunch of classmates, screaming like it mattered more to them than it did to him.

He forgets how long they lasted, but he’s sure they started dating in November and made it to Valentine’s Day. He bought her tulips, her favourite, and a stuffed bear, because it was right beside it in the store. With his own money, too.

His second girlfriend—he really, really feels bad about not knowing her name anymore—got him chocolate. He gave it to his sister again, but he kept the card she wrote him, saying she loved him three months in like either of them knew what that meant.

And to be fair, he said he loved her, too. Just not to her face. Many, many times to Hajime, though.

Tooru and Girlfriend #2 broke up in May. He wasn’t even planning on it, either. She just moved to a different country and he wasn’t looking for a penpal, and she said she didn’t wanna cheat on him.

The third girlfriend is where his small list gets serious.

He gave romance a break after the one that got away. He just flirted with people up until his first year of high school, the big leagues, which is when he actually got too much attention.

It’s a huge deal when you’re sixteen and your girlfriend is seventeen. He was crowned royalty of his class, the chosen one. The only one that could possibly score an older girl and act like it’s no big deal, and then proceed to blow her off to watch a game taping or something. On top of the world, and yet so below the standard.

She was pretty good to him. Makki always said he was a moron and she was gonna dump his ass, and Tooru probably knew that, too. Hajime said he was wasting his time, and every time he’d deny it, he’d think about how right he was.

He and the third girlfriend—Hana, he remembers—had one Valentine’s Day together, but it was so close to two that he almost wants to count it as such for the hell of it.

He got her wildflowers because she always said she hated roses and tulips. Basic flowers mean they don’t care, or something like that. He didn’t understand it fully, but he was happy when she leapt into his arms, that was for sure. It felt pretty good when she kissed him stupid and said he was the best, but that high didn’t survive the Spring Tournament the next year.

That’s how close he was to two Valentine’s Days—January. Fucking brutal.

She dumped him and he swore off girlfriends in senior year; probably even blamed it on something stupid like ‘bad omens.’ He graduated with D1 offers, though, so he counts it as a win.

That tallies up to three successful Valentine’s Days, so far right? Yeah, right—all with flowers.

The fourth bouquet wasn’t a bouquet at all, it was actually orchids in a pot, left on the kitchen table of the apartment he lived in when he moved. He was twenty, her name was Riko, his first almost everything. First I love you, first time—name it, basically.

He did make it to two Valentine’s Days with Riko, which is something so impressive for him that confetti emojis were everywhere in the groupchat he kept with his friends from high school. Hearts, confetti, eggplants, whatever else.

The first one was admittedly better than the second, though. The second one, he got a really serious offer overseas, and he didn’t even ask about it. He just told her that he loved her, and that he’d be in Argentina by August.

(Safe to say that he was the only one packing for that.)

That was the last time he bought flowers on Valentine’s Day, because it was the last time he consciously celebrated with someone. He sent his friends funny clips or pictures just to tease, taunted them whenever they could keep a girlfriend to celebrate with, but he gave up himself.

(It’s just so much easier to relax—he’d have no problem getting a girlfriend if he wanted one. His issue is keeping them.)

He’s twenty-seven and solo.

Mostly solo, he should say. You come around a lot, stay the nights with him. You typically collect your clothes and leave the next morning with a wave and maybe a ‘text me if you wanna do this again Friday,’ but he hates how he’s lying when he grins and says he just might.

Tooru is so used to being the one to leave, or to sabotage himself until someone else does, that he’s forgotten that it actually sucks when you don’t wanna be left alone.

The whole point of you and him is to keep it casual, but Tooru can barely keep it cool.

He likes to consider himself experienced. It’s why he gets so fucked up when he kisses you for longer than he realizes, or how he finds himself holding back words he thinks might be too much for casual sex.

You two are functional together, at least. He just puts the system at risk a lot.

When he wakes up today, February fourteenth, he doesn’t even know what day it is. He’s naked, in his own bed at the very least, and he can see his jeans on the floor through the light of the bathroom dripping through the door left open. Dawn peeks through the curtains.

The room is quiet, the window’s open so the birds can talk to him, and to his left, you’re still here.

“Hey,” he says, yawning.

“Good morning,” you say back, a small smile on your face as you stretch. He can’t help but smile back, with his grin and smile lines, eyes drifting to the hem of the sheets that try and cover you up. Okay, naked too. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Woah.

“It’s Valentine’s Day?” he replies in a hurry, leaning up on his elbow as he grabs his phone. Yes, very much so.

You raise your brows. “What? Got a wife you forgot about?”

“Very funny.”

“I know, I’ve been waiting,” you say. It’s your turn to yawn now, moving to lay your head on his chest, hand pushing him back down into the bed. “What’s the panic, then?”

He shrugs. “Nothing. Just … forgot. It's weird.”

“Hm. So where are my roses, huh?”

Tooru scoffs, glancing down at you as he rests a hand on your waist. “They’re being delivered, obviously.”

“I figured.” You cock your head. “What’s up with Valentine’s Day, huh?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never not gotten flowers for someone when I’ve had them.”

“Are you talking about me?”

“What, I can’t get friendly flowers?” he asks, raised brows and attitude waking up with him. “You’re naked in my bed, that must constitute something.”

The way you pout your lip in thought makes him wanna reach out for your hand. Is it weird to do that? Can I do that?

(You do it first, but he holds you tighter.)

“No, this is fine.”

“Fine?”

“Better,” you quickly correct. “I’d rather just stay in bed and say it once. I prefer acts of service, anyway.”

Looking at you, laying on his bare chest, the sun creeping in over yours, he doesn’t care all that much about how he’s breaking tradition anymore. Maybe it’s not even tradition, maybe it’s just a cycle he’s breaking; a vicious one, at that.

You’re an unconventional valentine in the sense that you’re not even his, but maybe when the day’s passed and he doesn’t feel it looming over him, he might bring it up again.

“Acts of service, you say?”

You snicker, being pushed onto your back as he looms over you. He’s looking at you like Cupid hit him; bullseye.

“You wouldn’t happen to know of those, would you?”

“Just tell me what you want, already. Let me make up for the flowers.”

You take him by the back of the neck, pulling him down to kiss you like he means it. Tooru speaks in tongues the two of you best understand.

For the first time in four official Valentine’s Days, Tooru doesn’t buy his valentine flowers. But, for the first time in four official Valentine’s Days, it feels so right that it doesn’t even matter he’s doing it ‘wrong.’

(Next time, when you’re hopefully here again, he doesn’t think he’ll get flowers, either. This'll do.)

#oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq x you #haikyuu!! x reader #kit writes

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ja3hwa · 3 months

Text

♡ 𝐖𝐚𝐬 𝐈𝐭 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐀 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐏𝐭.𝟓 | 𝐊.𝐇𝐉 ♡

【Synopsis】 : Fear was clouding both you and Hongjoong's judgement, leading you to question whether Hongjoong actually likes you the way you do him or not. Would a confession fix everything? Or would it cause a rift between the two of you?

『Word count』 : 1.21k

-> Genre: Smut. Angsty but Fluffy. Romance. DBF.

Pairing: Dilf!Hongjoong x Park!Reader

[Warnings] : Making out. Mentions of sex. Hongjoong can keep his hands to himself. Crying, heartbreak. Fear and insecurities. Lots of sappy cheesy romance novel stuff. Slight miscommunication trope. What can i say, i live to cause chaos. Hehe. Also, I love to point out that i love Seonghwa very much, and any i say about him doesn't mean anything.

Note: I know, I know. You were probably hoping for the first time, hehe. But no, Daddy Joong and Angel needed to have a heart to heart first. Haha. And I wanted the smut to be in one part, and it's gonna be a long one, hehe. Enjoy this for now, my beautiful babies. ♡♡♡

Masterlist | Navigation | Part Four | Buy Me A Ko-Fi

The dinner felt like something out of a romance novel or movie. Everything was perfect, down to the last bite of your dessert. The way the chocolate melted on your tongue and the whipped cream spilled down your throat, dripping down your chin. Hongjoong had to bite back a groan at the way your eyes rolled back in pleasure. You found out that Hongjoong owns the restaurant, which caught you by complete surprise, given he didn’t know the first thing about cooking. He had spoken about how he was originally going to be a bar, but his mother mentioned she would have loved to own a restaurant with opened windows, grand red couches, and welcoming smiles. His dream quickly became something to resemble his mother. He wanted her to know how much he loved her, even when he was being his cold stand-off self. She helped a lot in his life, and he missed her every day.

He parked outside your apartment, and the silence continued. Only the soft pitter-patter of rain hitting the windshield. You didn’t want to get out of the car. You didn’t want the night to end, and as he turned to look at you in the eyes, you knew he didn’t want it to end either. “Why don’t you come up…. Coffee maybe…”

Your heart was racing, feeling all your nerves shaking at you. You needed to push yourself, push him. Show him you could be assertive… mature. He sighed, biting his bottom lip while looking back to the dark wet street in front of the car. He had conflicting feelings like his mind was splitting into two. You felt your heart breaking with each breath, with each silent second. “I don’t think that is a good idea…”

“Why?!” You said that way too quickly than you’d like, knuckles turning white as you clench the fabric of your dress in between your fingers. He just sighed again, making your heart shatter slowly. He raked his hand through his hair, searching for the right words to say without causing a miscommunication or pain.

“If I go up there, then I won't come back down.” His words made you hold a breath. Did he mean that? Was he worried about having sex with you? Be with you? You quickly responded with a simple ‘so’ which probably made you sound like an upset, desperate teenager, but you didn’t care, needing to hear him out. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Not yet. Your father is uhh…”

There it was. The cruel reminder of who you were to him. His best friend's daughter. Just some silly little girl that he was fooling around with. You sagged completely into your chair, trying to balance the weight forming on your chest. You felt like you couldn’t breathe like you were suffocating in the small vehicle. No matter how hard you fight or how much he tries to forget, your relationship will be constantly based on what your father thinks. Your father's feelings. Not yours.

“I see…” You finally spoke. “Well, I’ll see you later than Hongjoong. Tonight was lovely…really lovely.” You got out before he could say another word. But you knew he was calling your name, trying to get you to hear his reasoning. Why he say what he said. The rain that was lightly spitting when you were in the restaurant was now bucketing down. You tried to get to the door of your building as quickly as possible, but a firm grip of your wrist stopped you. You turned to see a soaking Hongjoong, looking desperate and…regretful.

“I want to be with you. Don’t you ever think otherwise.” He yelled over the rain, your eyes growing wide as he put his left hand on your cheek, stroking your wet skin with his thumb. “I suck at voicing my thoughts. Please…please don’t think I don’t want you angel. You are the only thing in my life that makes me want to live again.”

You could feel your throat closing and your heart racing. Tears were falling along with the rain, ruining your make-up. He inched close, letting you feel his breath on your skin. Then you closed the gap, letting him lock his lips against yours. He kissed you more passionately, unlike the lust-filled kisses you’ve shared with him. He kissed you like you were the only person left in the world. He kisses you like he needs it to breathe. He needed you more than he could ever explain. But fuck, if he wasn’t going to try to show you exactly how he feels, with every kiss, every soft touch and every whisper of sweet nothings in your ear. He wasn’t afraid of your father. He wasn’t afraid of what his other friends might think. He was going to shout from the rooftop how much he has fallen in love with you, and he was going to make sure you knew he meant every word.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you.” You whispered, your tears turning into a sob. Your fingers were tangled in his wet shirt, fearing he’d disappear if you let go. And then he smiled, he laughed. His nose rubbing against yours, he whispered back…

“I’m definitely in love with you, angel. I’ve been in love with you the moment you step out of your car in that fucking perfect little dress.” He groaned kissing you again. He swallowed your giggles as you both felt a euphoric feeling like no other. It was like a switch went off. The last puzzle piece fell into place and nothing else outside your little bubble mattered. His plans to make your first time was about to go out the fucking window….

“If you don’t get back in my car right now, I’ll drag you into it.” His words were dark, tainting on your lips. It was like a drug you’d never get enough of. Quickly, without slipping, you got back into his expensive car, your hand never leaving his thigh as he drove and your lips suckling on his neck. Hongjoong was glad it was almost two in the morning, and no one was on the road. Otherwise, he would've most likely hit someone with how fast he was going. He made it back to his apartment in no time, and without another moment to spear, he dragged you towards the elevator by your hand. Fingers entangled with yours.. he pinned you against the wall in a feverish kiss, holding the back of your neck, guiding your mouth with his. This was not what he wanted your first time to be like. But god, did he need every second of it.

The way his hand crept up your dress, crawling at your hips. Feeling your frilly panties along his fingertips. His tongue raked down your hot skin, suckling a bright red mark on your neck. He was going to litter you with his marks, every part of your beautiful untouched body. Taint it like you were made for him. He was going to fuck you like it was the last thing he was ever going to do. Because you deserved every treatment he gave you.

No matter what your father was going to think. He’d deal with the prick afterwards.

-♡

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riordanness · 3 months

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i think he knows - [l.laurence]

wordcount: 1.3K

requested: no (but i am working on all my requests)

warnings: maybeee a wonka reference (my bad)

I lay side by side with Jo March, our hands intertwined, staring up at the clouds.

“You’re kidding, right?” Jo laughs. “That is definitely not a giraffe. It looks like a flamingo.”

I wrinkle my nose. “No way. It looks closer to a melted chocolate bar than a flamingo.”

She nudges me and laughs again. “Whatever.”

I sigh and close my eyes, my spare fingers playing with the blades of grass we’re lying on.

“This is the life,” Jo says quietly, as if she can read my thoughts.

“Mhm…” I reply, feeling sleepy and sun sick. We’ve been out all morning in the hot summer sun, and the effects are finally catching up on me.

“You know what would make today better, though?”

“What?” I’m barely paying attention now, my sleepiness wanting to take over.

“If Laurie was here.” Jo says it like it’s poetry.

I’m immediately awake. I sit up. “What did you say?”

Jo looks amused. “I said…that today would have been better if Laurie was here with us.”

I try to downplay my reaction with a shrug. “Yeah, that would have been nice I suppose.”

“Oh, y/n,” Jo teases. “Don’t try to pretend you aren’t head over heels in love with him.”

I look at her sharply. “Jo, don’t talk about such things.”

“It's true, though,” Jo insists. “Isn’t it?”

I look away. Of course it was true. Laurie Laurence was the one person I could never imagine not having in my life. I needed him like I needed air in my lungs. He was my sunlight, my happiness, my joy and my energy and my smile. He was my everything.

“Maybe it’s true,” I whisper. “But it’s not important. I will never matter to him the way that he matters to me.”

Jo is quiet for a while, her eyes narrowed as she stares into the deep blue nothingness of the sky.

I lay beside her, in comfortable silence, as my thoughts drift, as always, back to that boy with the laughing green eyes, unruly but beautiful dark hair, and that smile that fills me with everything I need.

I first met Laurie through the others. I’m lifelong friends with all the Marches, and being an only child, my days tend to be lonely. Marmee has me over as much as humanly possible. Sleepovers, performances, club meetings and dinners, walks and piano lessons, days at the beach, sketching in the garden, dances and dumb adventures. I do it all with those four girls.

Then one day, a boy joined in on our fun.

At first, it was nerve-wracking, doing all our usual antics in the presence of a boy. But I soon learned that Laurie was anything but judgemental, and better than that–he was amazing fun.

We became best friends.

Now, everything I did was with Laurie, or nearly everything. I’d spend every second with him if I could.

It’s like there’s magic in his smile.

“Laurie!” I shove open his front door, yelling up the stairs.

His curly head pops over the stairs, grinning down at me. “Hey, you.”

I squint up at him. “What are you doing? I thought we were going out today. You promised we’d go ice skating.” I wave my skates at him to prove my point.

Laurie winces. “I’m sorry, y/n. I know I did, but–” He makes a face. “I’ve got a cold and Grandfather forbade me to leave my room.” His features turn mischievous. “In fact, I’m risking his wrath just being out here in the hall.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Well, I guess I’ll have to come up there and entertain you then.”

“You’ll get sick!” Laurie shakes his head at me.

“Too late,” I say, as I drop my skates and coat at the door, and dash up the stairs.

Laurie watches as I hop, skip, and jump at the top stair, as I do every time (because he did it first, and I like to do everything he does). He stares at me with a small smirk on his face.

“What?” I ask, coming to a stop only a metre away from him. “It’s fun doing that at the top of the stairs. Like a little celebratory moment for conquering the staircase once again.”

Laurie laughs under his breath as he shakes his head slightly. “It’s nothing, my dear y/n. Hop at your heart's content.”

I shrug and head into his room, a lage, ornate chamber full of antique paintings and old books and clothes strewn all over the floor.

“Oh, my,” I say disapprovingly. “Laurie, you really need to tidy this place up a little if you want to get any better, you know.”

“I know,” Laurie sighs, falling sideways onto an armchair. “But I just don’t have your work ethic, y/n. I love being lazy and useless and spending my time doing silly, worthless things.”

I click my tongue. “Don’t be ridiculous, Laurie. I know you. You have it inside you to do great things with your life. You just have to want it enough, and to work hard for it. You can do it. I believe in you.”

I wander around the room busily, picking up dirty laundry and discarded books, and straightening the bedsheets. I can feel Laurie’s eyes on me, but it’s not an awkward feeling. If anything, it’s comforting. Being around him, everything is easier, safer. My words come out of my mouth easily. I don’t worry about saying the wrong thing or coming across as too blunt or anything like that. They can come right from my heart, because I know him better than anyone, and I see what Laurie is capable of.

“And you know, you can always–”

“Y/n.” Laurie gets to his feet.

My voice dies, and I frown at him uncertainly and I drop a small stack of books onto his desk.. “Yeah?”

“You know how the other day, um, you and Jo were hanging out in the gardens, watching the clouds?”

My eyes narrow a little, but I nod slowly. “Yes…? How did you know about that?”

Laurie doesn’t meet my eyes, rolling his tongue around in his mouth nervously. “I might’ve been spying on you?”

My hands are instantly on my hips as I give him a look. “Laurie Laurence.”

“I’m sorry!” he says immediately, holding his hands up like he’s surrendering. “I just… well, I heard what you were talking about.”

I try to think back. What would Jo and I have been talking about that was so important he’s bringing it back up now? I didn’t think we were discussing anything that exciting, except…

Oh.

My face goes slack, and my mouth drops slightly open. “You-you mean–”

Laurie nods and gets to his feet. “So it’s true?”

I want to lie, to shake my head and laugh it away, but my reaction has already made it obvious. I slowly nod my head yes, once, then twice.

Relief floods into Laurie’s features. “Oh, thank goodness.”

“What?” I ask, but my question is lost when Laurie attacks me with a hug.

“I love you, y/n,” he says softly into my hair. “I’ve loved you ever since Jo first introduced me to you that day in the attic. You might’ve been shy and wearing that silly costume; a battered overcoat and tattered suitcase, but I’d never seen a prettier girl. You help me be a better person, you’re always so encouraging and kind and hard-workig, and I just… I really love you.”

He pulls away, holding my shoulders and gazing at me.

I’m in disbelief, staring up into his eyes, my mouth still open.

He laughs, ducking his head a little. “You don’t have to say anything, y/n. You said enough the other day.” He pauses, licks his lips a little. “Y/n, can I kiss you?”

I can’t help but to smile. “Of course you can.”

His mouth meets mine, and it’s better than anything else in the world.

#timothée chalamet #laurie laurence x reader #laurie laurence #little women #fanfic #timothee chalamet imagines #timothee chalamet x reader #laurie laurence fanfic

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extremelyblackandwhite · 11 months

Text

pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader

warnings: age gap (reader is 10 years younger than bucky), smut (18+, dni if under 18)

summary: bucky, y/n and the pte parents.

Y/N’s mouth was drier than every single desert in the world. All she could hear was the sound of her heart pounding against her ribcage as she stared at him. She tried opening her mouth a few times but her words got stuck in her throat, all that would sum from the vibrations of her vocal chords were small wimpers and cut off sounds. Bucky, on the other hand, appeared cooler as he usually was. He was unbothered by the sentence that had just left his mouth, staring at her as if he’d told her a joke or a secret. There was this ... this sense that no matter what she said was gonna end up being the wrong answer. If she told him that yes she’d had her hand in the middle of her legs at the thought of him in sweatpants she was surely fired and if she denied it she would come off as a liar and then she would also surely be fired. Whatever astonishing words came out of her mouth would get her fired and she needed this job. She needed to look out for Sadie, she needed ... she didn’t know why needed to stay here but she needed to. Luckily for her, and unluckily for him, a small little voice interrupted their stand off - if it could even be called that.

- Sadie. - Y/N walked past Bucky like a torpedo, lowering down to Sadie’s height. The little girl had sleep in her eyes and was dragging her favourite blankie and stuffed teddy. - What’s wrong, baby?

She merely looked at her au pair before holding her arms up, signalling she wanted to be picked up. Y/N cooed before picking her up, knowing exactly what it was that she wanted. She kissed the top of Sadie’s head, brushing her hair away from her face.

- Monsters? - she asked and the two year old nodded. - Uhm, they just don’t learn don’t they?

Bucky had seen Y/N act with his daughter before, actually, he’d seen it plenty of time before but this time something clicked inside of him. He wasn’t sure what it was but something about seeing Y/N be so good with his daughter made his heart skip. He followed the two into Sadie’s room as Y/N began to look around for the mysterious “monsters”.

- They know I’m back so don’t worry. - she laid Sadie down in bed. - I’ll make sure they don’t come in ever again.

- You promise?

- Of course, baby. They will never hurt you, you’re too strong. Now you have to go to sleep, ok?

- Why?

- Because you’ll be tired if you don’t, darling. Tell you what, you go to sleep and tomorrow you can help me make Mickey Mouse pancakes. Sounds good?

- Chocolate chip?

- We can put whatever you want in them. - she pulled the covers up to Sadie’s shoulder, arranging the teddies next to him. - Goodnight, Sisi. Love you to the moon and back.

- And more. - she smiled before snuggling against her pillow.

Bucky held in a sigh, the mere idea that he was stealing this experience from Sadie. Her real mum was probably too busy parading bars and wasting whatever money was left in her father’s credit card rather than care about his own daughter. She was sweet, too sweet for her mother and even too sweet for him. She deserved better.

- Night daddy!

- Night, princess. I’ll keep a watch out for the monsters. - Bucky blew her a kiss before turning off the lights.

As the lights went off in Sadie’s room and they walked into the hallway, it dawned on her that she no longer had an excuse to avoid Bucky and his question. He seemed to sense that, his mind running between pressing her for an answer of letting her be. He chose the latter one, smirking at her before returning to his bedroom. Y/N swore she could feel her heart thumping against her ribcage as he closed the door to his bedroom? She was off the hook? Right? She was off the hook, so she returned to her own bedroom before he came back to ask why she had been masturbating a few nights ago. She didn’t think she moaned his name, did she? Yet again, why didn’t he look upset? Was he trying to tease her and if so why would he? Maybe he wasn’t teasing her, perhaps all he wanted was to show how incredibly out of the game she was. She didn’t like one night stands, it wasn’t her type of thing. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t find one? Well, to be honest she wasn’t sure, she’d never tried it before.

Those questions haunted her mind until she went to sleep and maybe they would’ve kept haunting her if it wasn’t for the fact that morning time meant Y/N had to find a way to get Sadie ready, dressed, and out the house for kindergarten which in itself was the impossible task. She thought that perhaps with Bucky around, she’d be scared into not running around yet as she found herself in a chase around the couch with Bucky, she realised she was wrong.

- Sadie. - Bucky put himself over the couch to try and pick her up but she slipped through his fingers, continuing her race. - It’s kindergarten time.

- No.

- Sadie Barnes, if you don’t stop it I swear there won’t be any Bluey for a week.

- No Bluey?

- No Bluey. - Y/N crossed her arms. Sadie looked between Bucky and the au pair, expecting her daddy to lay down the law but he merely shrugged, clearly on Y/N’s side. She stopped her running, walking slowly to the door, before turning around to face the two. - Did you change your mind, Sadie?

She nodded grabbing her yellow raincoat before pouting. Y/N rolled her eyes, smiling before she grabbed her own coat, opening the door and ushering her down and into Bucky’s car. Bucky merely followed, afraid if he said something it would throw off the routine. Instead, he just watched in awe of how she handled his daughter, even in the car as they were both subjected to half hour of the same show until they got to kindergarten.

- Your backpack. - Bucky called out for Sadie before she could run to her friends. - Now you be nice at school, yeah? Daddy can’t pick you up today but Y/N will and I will meet you girls for dinner.

- Bye daddy. - she hugged her dad before rushing away.

- Is she always this happy when she gets to school? - Bucky stood by Y/N’s side as they watched Sadie mingle with the other kids.

- Usually.

- Just the parents I wanted to see. - Y/N rolled her eyes as she recognised the voice coming towards them. Great, just what she wanted to deal with after getting no sleep the night before. - And Mr. Barnes is here, how nice.

- Morning Michelle. - Y/N looked around, trying to find a way to escape talking to her. She was one of the PTE parents who took it a bit too seriously, actually, way too seriously. - How are you?

- I was wondering if I was gonna see you this semester, Mr. Barnes.

- Actually ... - Bucky looked down at his watch. - I have to go, I have a meeting. Do you want the car today, Y/N? I can get a taxi to work.

- It’s okay, I’m not doing any errands today. I will see you for dinner then?

- I’ll bring dinner home tonight. Something nice from the Italian place downstairs.

- Bye Sergeant Barnes.

- It’s back to Sergeant Barnes, is it? - he gave her a smile before walking back to the car and she could not deny she hadn’t stared at him as he walked away. Bucky was an attractive man, an attractive man who she hoped did not hear her moaning his name.

- If I had your husband, Y/N ... let me tell you, I wouldn’t leave his side.

- He’s not my husband, Michelle and even if he was I would have better things to do than be at his beckoning call.

- So he’s single ... - she looked over Y/N’s shoulder to his car. - Huh ... Make sure he comes to the next PTE meeting.

(...)

Was she starting to enjoy Bluey? She asked as a new episode started and the typical Australian accent filled the sound system. That had to be the only reason why she didn’t want to pull her hair off as the episodes kept going in a repeat sequence and Sadie mouthed the words along. She had to admit it was rather impressive how well she could remember the words, yet again she was sure this set of episodes had been playing for a while now.

- I’m home. - Bucky’s voice echoed through the living room and suddenly Bluey was no longer interesting for Sadie as she ran towards her dad.

- Hey, Sisi, let daddy put the food down. - Y/N followed after Sadie to help Bucky put down the takeaway bags. - Go watch Bluey while we set the table, ok?

- Kay!

- So ... - Y/N put her hands on the table, staring at Bucky. - I think the president of the PTE wants to take you out.

- What? - he stopped mid pouring his whiskey glass.

- She said if you were her husband, she would never leave the house.

- She’s hot, I could give it a try. - he chuckled.

- Ugh. - she rolled her eyes. - Please don’t have an affair with the PTE mum, it would make my job much harder.

- Aw, c’mon, maybe I can sway some things your way. - he continued joking but Y/N merely faked gagged. - That’s alright, Y/N.

- No one night stands either.

- Someone’s being awfully possessive, Y/N. It’s ok, I’ll only sleep with Michelle if you let me.

- Would you?

- Would I what?

- Sleep with Michelle.

- Why is that even relevant, Y/N? Are you trying to get some data from the PTE meetings or whatever?

- I don’t know.

- Don’t worry, Y/N. Even if I did date someone, the only way you’d lose your job would be if that person could fill your job and become Sadie’s mum.

- Oh ... Have you ever found someone? To fill that position.

- Not really. I don’t want Sadie to lose another mum and if I’m being honest I’m not entirely sure I’ve ever met someone who could be Sadie’s mum. Other than you, that is.

- I’m paid to be an au pair, Bucky and I don’t think I’m that good.

- You’re good, alright ... Sadie thinks you’re her mum.

- Sadie doesn’t think I’m her mum.

- Would it be such a bad thing? - he stood on the opposite side of the table. - To be Sadie’s mum?

- If I were Sadie’s mum, I would be your wife.

- Ouch, trying to hurt my feelings? - he chuckled.

- I’m not your type, Sergeant Barnes.

- Oh, you’re exactly my type.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan imagine #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky/reader #bucky x you #bucky/you #bucky x y/n #bucky/y/n #bucky imagine

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chronically-ghosted · 8 months

Text

Little Monsters

rating: 18+ Explicit

pairing: dieter x f!reader

word count: 5K

summary: A phone call home to your family has you missing them desperately . . . especially your husband, who always knows exactly what you need.

warnings/tags: pregnancy, Dieter has children and is actually a really good dad, director!reader, 1st half is mind numbing tooth rotting FLUFF, 2nd half is straight filth and dieter has a nasty nasty mouth, masturbation, camera/phone sex, slight breeding kink, one single use of ‘Daddy’, if I had an ounce of shame left in me I would not have posted this

a/n: special shout outs go to @spookyxsam for showing me about how babies work and to @lunapascal and @mysterious-moonstruck-musings for talking me off the daddy dieter ledge. this is my first pregnancy fic and i do not know what came over me (she lied, knowing damn good and well what happened to her brain chemistry)

from @yoursoulsunbreakable 's request: Hello sweetie, congratulations on your milestone <3 Here's my request for the little drabble: 5. “Tell me what you would want to do, if you were here right now.” With our precious Dieter and smutty? Hope it'll inspire you 😘

🤍Masterlist

“Tell me what you would want to do, if you were here right now.”

“Oh, Dieter, I’d – I’d –,”

“Yeah?”

You let out a burst of air from your lips, flopping back against the pillows. “I’d ask you for a foot rub,” you whine into the camera.

He chuckles, the sound a bit garbled through the speakers. He leans forward into the camera, as if trying to see down your body, the angle of the phone against the hotel’s lamp not quite right.

“Is Bravo Baby number three giving you trouble?”

You eye your swelling feet over the steadily swelling bump. Well into your second trimester and the list of shoes in your closet you could still wear is shrinking rapidly. This also happened with your second child and when Dieter made one joke about keeping you barefoot in the kitchen, you nearly threw a butcher’s knife at his head. You stroke the left side of your stomach to preemptively soothe the little brat before they start wailing on that spot all night, sighing into your husband’s sympathetic, pixelated face.

“They’ve been grouchy all day. Tom had to leave me in the car for a bit after we scouted a potential place for the exterior shots to finish taking pictures because somebody was having a grand old time wearing me out.” You narrow your eyes at him through the camera. “As if there was any doubt this was your child.”

This is a constant inside joke between you. Your first kid, a girl, was a beautiful blend of both you and Dieter. His eyes, but your hair, your cheeks, and his nose. He also got to name her – said it came to him after he bought some chocolate and water at the hospital lounge –

“Zelle, Dieter, ‘Zelle’?? Like the money transaction service?”

But you had been too zonked out on painkillers and endorphins to object (you thought it was beautiful at the time), and he signed the papers anyway. Neither of you had come up with a fitting name before then and he swears the instant he held his baby girl in his hands for the first time, it came to him, as if the stars rearranged themselves in the sky with that name. Incurably a romantic at heart – your husband – you found it sweet and also idiotic, but it was too late now.

Your second one, Orion, had his name written down on a post-it note you carried in your purse for months and you made sure to show the nurse when you were admitted. Not that Dieter would intentionally go against the name you had agreed on if the baby was a boy, but there was a slim chance he’d get so caught up in the moment and, with watery eyes, tell the nurse to write something like Mars Bar on the birth certificate.

And, for all that, Orion could have been a carbon copy of you.

The joke started when Dieter picked him up from his crib one night and brought that gurgling little mouth right up to his nose. “Are you sure you didn’t just spontaneously create this one? I don’t see a single hint of me in this little guy.” To which Orion giggled around a drool-damp fist and promptly bopped his father on the nose with it.

“Are you saying you don’t remember what happened the night he was conceived?” You asked with a smirk over your shoulder as you returned some baby bibs to the drawer.

Dieter snorted and slid Orion into the crook of his arm, those onesie-white feet seen kicking over his forearm. “Now Mommy is just being plain silly.”

That was five years ago and you couldn’t exactly deny you were excited for the smell of newborn to be all over your husband again.

“I’ll be glad when we hit the last trimester,” he says, chin propped up on his wrist to stare down at you in his other palm, “so I can wave that doctor’s note in your face when you try to work too hard . . . like you are now.”

You shift onto your side to face him, rolling your eyes. “You only like the third trimester for the sex hormones.”

After spending most of your first pregnancy, and at least half of your second, trying to claw Dieter’s eyes out if he so much as breathed in your direction, he was delighted to find that by month seven, the hellcat who had taken over his wife’s body turned into a needy, whiny little kitten.

Some of the best orgasms of his life come from those months, he swears up and down.

“I’m not going to complain,” he grins, peering down at you from those prescription sunglasses. The Dieter you used to know wore them because he was constantly hungover; your husband wears them because he keeps accidentally misplacing his actual prescription glasses. “All I’m saying is you better be back in time so Daddy can play house with Mommy.”

The shrill cry is heard through the phone, the closed bedroom door, and at least one hallway:

“Is Mommy on the phone?”

Barely a second later, you watch over his shoulder as the door flings open and a wild blur of arms and legs dogpiles Dieter onto the bed. You hear him grunt, the camera flips up to the ceiling, as Zelle and Orion clamor for the phone. Chuckling to yourself, you take up the phone from the bedside table and hold it in your palm as you lean back against the pillows and your children’s faces flash over the small screen.

“Mommy, I made a bug out of noodles and string today.”

“Mommy, I saw a cat that looked like a cow today.”

“Mommy, Daddy’s broccoli tasted funny - you cook it better!”

“Hey!” He lunges for Zelle’s little ankle and pulls her up around her waist as she giggles helplessly.

You can barely see them, Orion’s pudgy little finger over most of the camera, Dieter’s hair and Zelle’s kicking feet visible only in flashes.

“You better go help your sister, Orion!”

Needing no other prompting, he drops the phone against the pillows and leaps onto his father, squealing at the noise Dieter makes. Where Orion got your looks, he had all of his father’s mannerism. You blinked twice when as a toddler Orion’s purposeful pout had looked so similar to his father’s, you wondered if they had practiced it together. Orion is ruthless when it comes to the tickle wars and immediately goes for Dieter’s neck.

“Help!” he chokes, “I’m being overrun by tiny monsters!”

Zelle roars at his hip and Orion howls – he’d be a werewolf for Halloween a third year in a row if the tradition continued. Despite more frequent and loud protests about his poor back, Dieter lunges forward and yanks Zelle under his arm like she’s a football. He does the same to Orion and faceplants with both of them successfully pinned. It’s the oldest trick in the book and you muse what he’s going to do when they are too big to do that to anymore. But, as Dieter likes to say, one colossal nightmare at a time.

“Peace treaty?” His voice is muffled by the blanket.

“Stand and deliver,” they repeat, breathlessly and red faced. He lets them go and the two bodies barely move, grins still plastered to their faces. Cheeks pink, Dieter crawls over and snags the phone.

“See, darling?” he says between heavy breaths, “this parenting stuff is easy.”

“Mommy, when are you coming home?” Zelle pops her head between Dieter and the phone, her cheek pink and her little hands pushing her hair off her face.

“Yeah!” Orion pipes up, crawling over Dieter’s back, hooking his tiny hands over his father’s throat. Dieter’s eyes bug out for a moment before adjusting the five year old’s grip. “Are you done chasing the dragon?”

At that, Dieter snickers and you can’t glare with fire in your eyes like you’d like to so you plaster on an overly sweet smile on your face.

“Rori, we asked you not to say that. It’s a stork, remember?”

Orion frowns into Dieter’s curls. “But I want a baby brother or sister that comes from a dragon’s egg.”

“Yeah, Mom, a dragon baby is way cooler than a stork baby.”

Oh, you are going to kill him.

This was another ongoing joke . . . for Dieter. Orion’s teacher called home one night after Orion proudly announced that his mommy was off chasing the dragon. Understandably concerned about the phrase, she called to make sure everything was alright, only to find out what he meant was that his mother was expecting a new baby and instead of a stork, his father told him that Mommy was going to find a dragon to put a new egg inside her tummy, and then the new baby would eventually pop out from the egg.

This was something you had to relay through the phone to the teacher . . . because Dieter was curled up on the floor, laughing so hard he went mute, tears rolling down red cheeks. This had been his ‘stork’ story for Orion, and apparently unaware of just how impressionable a five-year-old is, told him that Mommy was chasing the dragon for a new egg. Dieter says his greatest regret in his life is that he wasn’t there to see the look on Orion’s teacher’s face.

After that, you (and Dieter once he recovered) tried to alter the story enough so that he wouldn’t accidentally imply his mother was off on a drug binge, but evidently too much stuck.

“I’m meeting with the dragon tomorrow, okay? I’m not chasing after anything. We’re having lunch. Right, Dad?”

“Absolutely.” He nods seriously at Orion and kisses that fat little cheek.

“When is the dragon gonna give you the egg with my baby sister in it?” Zelle asks, matching Dieter on her stomach. Dieter’s confidence manifested perfectly in his daughter; you and him had told her many times that the baby might be a little brother, but she just stuck her nose in the air. “I know it’s a sister,” she said, with a characteristic roll of her eyes.

“A couple more months, baby,” you smile, unconsciously rubbing at your stomach again. Baby Bravo is suspiciously quiet. Not soon enough. “But I’ll be home tomorrow, but you two have to be good for Dad until then, okay?”

Orion nods from Dieter’s shoulder, but Zelle smirks up at her father in a way that is well beyond her six years.

“I promise to eat all of Daddy’s nasty broccoli!”

Dieter’s own impish nature, thrown right back at him. The one solace you found is that your husband might have finally met his match.

He grabs her, flips her on her back, and blows a strawberry on her tummy as she shrieks with glee.

“Alright – that’s it – it’s bath time for all naughty monsters!” He hikes Orion over his shoulder and picks up Zelle by her waist. He glances back over at you, his eyes bright and a giant smile on his face.

You swear every time you see Orion, there’s less and less baby in his pudgy face, his little hands. Zelle is constantly saying and doing things that surprises you with the depth of their awareness and you know it doesn’t all come from you or Dieter.

Your heart actually aches from missing them so much.

“Monsters, say goodnight to Queen Monster–,” more yelling, roaring, “I’ll call you later tonight, okay, baby?”

You nod, your eyes suddenly hot and tight. “O-okay – love you all.”

“LOVE YOU!” The three-headed monster yells in unison as it lumbers out of the bedroom.

You end the call, just before the tears spill. Again on your back, you stare at the ceiling feeling incredibly sorry for yourself when the baby rolls over and kicks you in the ribs.

Hey, I’m here too!

You laugh, a little watery, and you wipe your eyes with your palms. Just get through tonight and you’re home.

“Okay, okay, I’m up. Let’s get ready for bed, would you like that?”

It’s late. You know you should be asleep already, but the shower had taken longer than expected. The phone call with your husband and children lingered in your mind when you turned on the water and stripped down. Your heart was so full to see Orion’s pout and Zelle’s mischievous grin, especially after such a long day on your feet and for all his teasing, Dieter’s own ease and confidence as a father, as well as a husband, left you feeling . . . warm. In fact, your mind’s eye lingers on him in the memory of the call: his beautiful, rich curls – those square black glasses that made him look annoyingly mysterious and so goddamn hot – his biceps flexing as he throws around his children with ease, his shoulders broad and straining against his shirt — his bulging forearm making his triangle tattoo pop – his wedding ring that replaced all the other rings –

The good news is the baby was almost here. The bad news is that you’re suddenly irrationally horny and your all-too-eager husband was a plane ride away.

Entirely naked besides the white hotel robe around your shoulders, you sternly ignore the plush tingling between your legs and try to focus on rubbing in lotion into your legs, your hips, over the old and new stretch marks over your stomach. Your fingers rub underneath the curve of your stomach and accidentally brush the damp curls, sending tiny shock waves up your pelvis. You gasp lowly, freezing, eyes tightly shut, fighting back that wave of arousal.

Goddamn it.

At first you think the ringing is between your ears, your blood rushing hard and fast, and then you realize it’s actually your phone going off.

Daddy Dieter, the screen reads.

You frown at the clock – if it’s late for you, then it’s very late for him. When he said he’d call you later, you didn’t think he meant literally later tonight. Still frowning, you put down the bottle of lotion and answer the phone.

“Dieter?”

“Hey, baby. How’s your night?”

He pulls back the phone and your mouth flushes with spit. He’s shirtless, sunglasses replaced with his actual glasses, that silver earring glinting in the low light. In the center of your bed, he’s propped up on several pillows with his arm tucked behind his head. He has thickened over the years, his chest and shoulders taking on a new weight as if he physically grew into fatherhood — and God, if his bicep was bulging before –

“Dieter –,” your voice is hoarse at first and you have to clear your throat to get anything out of your mouth that isn’t a whine. “Dieter, what are you doing up?”

He shrugs like he’s just been bored at home. “Bath time was easy. Orion wanted just one story and Zelle didn’t put up a fight when I told her it was bedtime and she had to put away the crayons.”

You narrow your eyes. “Did you slip them Benadryl?”

“Wow! No! Did you ever think that maybe I’m just that good of a dad?” He scoffs, mildly offended. And then he smirks. “I told them you’d come home sooner if they were good.”

“Ah, the old Santa Claus trick.” You nod sagely and sit down on the edge of the bed, the movement tugging the robe slightly. “Always a classic.”

“Yeah, I –,” Dieter’s eyes widen, edges going dark. “Are you naked?”

You swallow, his sudden shift in tone causing your thighs to clench. You cross your legs as tightly as your belly will allow, your chin held high.

“I’m in a robe, Dieter. Took a long shower.”

His eyes glitter with interest, the tip of his tongue running on the edge of his bottom lip. “How long?”

Feeling hot and swollen for months now, you flush pink, an overripe peach beneath the slightest pressure of his thumb.

“Dieter–,” it’s a whine but you shake your head. “Please don’t tease. I’m so . . . sensitive right now, and I won’t be home until tomorrow and–,”

“Baby, baby, breathe. I know it hurts.” He sits up, his eyes big and dark. “I remember how wet you get around now.”

Your cunt drools onto the robe below you, thighs sticky, his words ringing in your ears.

“Dieter, don’t –,”

“I know I can’t help you but what if I showed you how to help yourself?”

You whimper, arousal now hot and warm in the pit of your stomach. The strength of it makes your pelvis ache. You know it won’t be the same as him, but his voice, it might be enough. You nod, your heart pounding, hand holding the phone shaking.

“Then lie back, baby.” Dieter purrs and it’s almost like he’s pushing you back with his hands. You shift up the bed, careful to not step on your robe with your heels as you center yourself in the covers. But Dieter’s moving, off the bed, and he’s adjusting something behind his phone.

The baby inside you can feel your heartbeat racing and they turn, uneasy. You soothe them with small circles just above your hips, your lips between your teeth. But that touch on your skin, the look in Dieter’s eyes, you brush lower on your skin and immediately you shudder.

“Baby, please, hurry, whatever you’re doing, hurry –,”

You drop your fingers over your thighs, curling and uncurling, drawing imaginary lines like he does in the mornings against your shoulders and back.

“Just a second, sorry, almost got it.”

Then he steps back, the phone hovering in the air. Dieter sits on the bed and the camera holds the entire bed in view. Dieter is nothing if not a performer, bringing a tripod into the bedroom when he knows you need him the most. He’s so fucking hot.

“Can you see me, baby?”

You nod stiffly. “How do you want me?”

“Whatever way is comfortable,” he smiles and it’s almost as hot as his smirk. Fuck, he loves you so much. You slide the robe off your shoulders, exposing the tops of your breasts as best you can and still keeping your phone up. “Perfect, baby, that’s perfect.”

Your hand drops to your thigh again, dragging your nails up under the swell of your belly and you twitch.

“T-tell me what you would want to do,” you begin, your voice shaking, arousal smooth as it licks up your spine, “if you were here right now.” You feel warm all over, the sheets cool against your calves.

This far away, you can’t see his eyes clear enough to watch them darken entirely, but his low grunt is enough. It’s time for him to perform for his pregnant and insatiable wife.

He slips his glasses off and tosses them onto the bedside table, where they land with a clatter. You can’t even think of scolding him when he lifts his hips and yanks his gray sweatpants down his knees, then to the floor. He’s half-hard as he shuffles back to the pillows, nearly in the same position you are. You shift to match him entirely, needing the immersion to be total and complete. You’d cry if he could actually touch you.

“Are you comfortable?”

You nod again. But Dieter shakes his head, his fingers digging into his thighs. “I can’t see you this far away, baby. I need you to say it. Talk to me.”

He was usually the one vocal enough for both of you, any coherent language impossible with the mess he makes out of you. You can’t imagine what you’re going to sound like, not when you’re this needy and desperate already.

“O-okay, Dieter, I’ll try.”

“Good girl.” You whimper again, trying to restrain from touching yourself before he tells you to. But you’re throbbing, the heat blooming from your cunt rushing to the rest of your body, the baby in you restless. As if mother and child can only be soothed by their father. “Now, breathe, darling, you’re flushed.”

You inhale, the air notching on every bone in your spine, and exhale, your lungs shuddering, eyes shut. “Dieter, please, tell me what you’d –,”

“I’d touch your thighs,” he says with such immediacy, your eyes spring open. He’s got the knee farthest from you bent up, as if putting himself on display, turning his hips towards the camera slightly. His other leg is stretched out long beside him and his left hand strokes his cock. Hair and shoulders backlit from the far lamp, the image of him like this alone — just for you — has your cunt clenching, a moan spilling from your lips. “Touch your thighs, baby.”

You can’t grab as much skin as he does, but you try. You lift your knees, and massage the backs of your thighs, then up to your knees, and back down. You can almost feel his breath on your calves and you shudder. “What else? W-where else?”

“I’ve been thinking about your tits for days,” he groans, the sound strangled, his cock now fully-hard and red. He cups himself, twisting as slow as he can take it. “Tell me what your tits feel like.”

“Sensitive,” you gasp as you draw two fingers across your nipple and squeeze gently. Dieter only uses his mouth now on them, so you wet them with yours and return them to your swollen bud, slowly twisting and pulling.

He’s watching you through the camera, eyes wide, breath sharp when you suck your fingers into your mouth. “Fuck, yeah, that’s right. Get them wet. What are you thinking about?”

“You. Your lips around my nipple, under my breast. Your teeth. They’re so heavy, Dieter.”

His hips jerk under his hand, his fingers moving faster now. You can’t quite hear what he’s muttering, but you catch weak mumblings, “gonna feed our baby”, “yeah, your tits”, the baby” —

“Dieter, please–,”

“Touch yourself with your fingers wet from your mouth. T-t-tell me what it feels like.”

With a relieved cry, you slide your hand down from your tits, over the swell of your belly, and in between your thighs. Wetness clings to the curls, to the curve of your ass, your body so ready to take him, and it locks up when you slip a finger inside.

“So wet. Warm. How many fingers can I put in?”

“One, but – can you already do two?”

You nod, the huff arching into a whine. “Yeah, baby. You have no idea how wet I am. I can slip in two with no resistance.”

“Jesus,” he pants and slows down, his hips rocking of their own accord. “You’ve got me so hard.”

You curl your fingers inside of you, searching for that spot made and found and praised by him. Your folds plump and achy, you twist your wrist, scissor your fingers, but it’s not the same. It’s not the same as his three fingers plugging you up, readying you to take so much of him, it’s enough to ease the sharp ache for a bit. You moan, fucking yourself more. He hears it, sees it, and grunts.

“You can come wherever you want, baby,” he murmurs, his own hand hesitant to match your speed. He tugs on his balls and his toes curl, his neck long and tense. “Fuck, I need your hands.”

“Me too,” you sob, real tears pricking the corners of your eyes. It feels good but it’s not the relief you need. It’s pathetic but you don’t want to stop. You can’t get in deep enough, even if you could get around your big belly. “Dieter, I can’t reach. It’s – I’m –,”

“Breathe, love, it’s okay.” His voice is soothing, calming. The same one he uses when you’re in labor and the sweet honey warmth of it sinks into your bones, easing the panic. You slow, gasping, tears pooling down your temple. Your orgasm is harsh, sunken in the dark, waiting for you to draw it out.

“What can you reach?”

“My clit.”

“Then touch that. Can I see?”

You nod, angle the phone down as you rub that electric nub.

“Oh, fuck, baby. I know it’s frustrating and I know it hurts, but you look so fucking good. So wet for me. Your pussy is perfect, pink, just how I like her.”

“Yeah?” you spin your fingers faster. That hot arousal returns steadily, melting back the resentment towards your own body the longer he praises.

“Oh yeah.” You can hear the slap of skin on the other end of the phone and you can picture Dieter flat on his back jerking himself off to your pulsating cunt and you moan, loudly, tension evaporating from your body. “How do you feel?”

“Good. Tight. I just need a bit more.”

“Me too. Let me see your face, pretty girl.” You turn the camera and gape at the sight on the screen.

Precum drips out of his now-purple cock, his chest flushed and neck sweaty. He’s twirling the head around with his thumb at the pace you’ve set with your fingers against your clit.

“Look at what you’ve done to me. You’re so fucking gorgeous. Can’t wait for you to be home so I can eat you out for hours.”

“I want your cock in me, Dieter,” you gasp, furiously rubbing on your clit, sending wave after wave of pleasure coursing through you. Your cunt clenches in time with your thudding heartbeat. “You’re so thick. I wanna feel the stretch.”

“Oh, I’m gonna fuck you hard.” The confession is a low snarl, a promise made between the ridges of his teeth. He fucks his fist faster, the noise over his labored breathing obscene. “Gonna put your hands on the headboard, your pussy in my lap and I’m gonna fuck up into you until I fill you full again. Wanna make you pregnant twice.”

Arousal floods your veins, your thighs a gooey mess. You toss your head back, back arching, and you moan as loud as you can.

“Oh– shit, oh, oh, shit–,”

“You’re gonna leak all over my thighs and when you’re done coming so hard you can’t see straight, I’m gonna lick it up all off you, my wife. Mine. My baby. Mine. Fuck, you look so good full of me.”

He’s never this possessive, never angry that he can’t have you but he sounds livid. He fucks his fist, his hips bucking into nothing, his other hand squeezing his thigh so hard his knuckles go white.

You circle your clit one more time and finally — your orgasm crests, your body locking up, your cunt gushing – and it leaves your mouth before you can stop it –

“Oh, Daddy–,”

You hear him gasp as if electrocuted, and you have to drop your phone to steady yourself as the weight of white-hot pleasure explodes across your body. You rock, breath gone from your lungs, mouth open in a silent scream, and everything slams back into you and you gasp, high and loud, every inch of your skin hot and trembling. You don’t realize you’re sweating until you feel it drip off your neck.

All you can hear is Dieter panting from your phone amongst the covers, the sound muffled. Your eyes flutter as the warm waves languish, then curl, and finally, you sigh as the last waves drain out of your body. If you weren’t lying down you’re sure you’d be dizzy.

“Oh my god,” you mutter breathlessly to no one in particular.

“B-baby, you still there?”

You blindly feel around for your phone, arm so weak it’s trembling as you pull the camera towards your face

Dieter looks about as fucked out as you feel. Cock limp and still dribbling, his stomach and chest are covered in cum. He pushes his damp hair off his forehead, eyes wide and staring at the ceiling.

“Holy shit, baby, that was …”

“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing your dry tongue, wishing again he was here so he could get you a glass of water. “I hope that wasn’t all of it because I really want you to say all of those things again tomorrow when you’re inside me.”

He groans and adjusts his limp cock. “You say that now but wait until Baby Bravo kicks you in the kidneys. You’ll be feeling a lot less generous towards this,” he gestures aimlessly to his naked body, “then.”

You chuckle. “Let’s just hope for the best. Besides,” you say, groaning a bit as you sit up to wipe the sweat off your neck with the robe, “I’m pretty sure I can have you eating out of the palm of my hand. Now that I know your secret . . . Daddy.”

Dieter groans as you laugh. He shakes his head. “You shouldn’t be so surprised by now when you make me discover new kinks.”

“Mhmm hmm.”

He rolls his eyes as he gets up and picks the phone off the tripod. Holding the phone to his face, he wipes the cum off with his sweatpants before turning his attention back to you.

“How are you? Feel better?”

“Much better.” You stretch and lean back in the bed. If he was here, you’d probably be asking to eat you out, but at least the knife’s edge of desire has dulled. You can at least wait until nap time to jump your husband’s bones.

“Good,” Dieter sighs, satisfied. “I’ll be there to pick you up from the airport tomorrow, okay?”

He always gets like this the nearer the due date comes, as if he can’t stand to see you lift a finger unnecessarily. You smile and nod, never wanting it to be any other way.

“I’ll text you when I land.”

“Okay. Good night, my biggest love. I love you, so much.”

“I love you too, Dieter.” Goddamn hormones, making you cry again.

“Now lemme say goodbye to our little traveler.”

You wipe your eyes with your thumb as you tilt the phone to your swollen belly.

“Good night, Baby Bravo. Can’t wait to have you around.”

And, at the sound of their father’s voice, they stir. Not kick or hurt. Just a tiny foot against your tight skin.

You are officially crying now.

“They said hi, didn’t they?”

You’re nodding, crying, and he can’t see a damn thing. “Yeah,” you say quietly. “They said good night, Dad.”

He’s patient with you as you wipe your eyes, cheeks flushed again.

“Baby, don’t cry, you’re breaking my heart.”

“You’re just a really good dad. And I’m so lucky,” you blubber. “This is it! I’m never leaving to go scouting again. I can’t take it.”

“Mhmm. Let’s revisit that when you’re about two months postpartum and clawing at the walls.”

You laugh with him, your own sticky and goopy. “Fine.”

“Go to bed, love, and for the record, I’m the lucky one. Don’t forget that. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night.” You blow a kiss and he catches it. You roll your eyes. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You stay like that for a bit, cradled by the pillows, and your phone on your chest, thinking about everything from Dieter to the next school picture day, to the next family vacation, and of course, the zillion things you have to get done with work before the baby comes — hopefully all from the home office.

She kicks.

You smile, wondering how you and Zelle both just know it’s a girl. Dieter has his own suspicions, he says, but he’s saving them. Orion would probably be thrilled to have a dragon in the family. You snort, hand over the place where she put her little foot.

“I miss them too, sweetie. And once you’re here, we’ll outnumber those silly boys. Maybe we’ll have to get a dog. You’ll like dogs.”

She’s silent, maybe sleeping, maybe thinking about what the heck a dog is. You smile, turn off the lamp, and peel back the covers. The sheets are cool and soft.

You fall asleep, dreaming of little feet, and hands, and wedding rings.

#dieter bravo #daddy dieter #gonna make this an official tag if its the last thing i do #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x oc #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfic #the bubble fanfic #the bubble #100 followers event

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snowy-vee · 2 months

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밤양갱 (Bam Yang Gang) Ellie W.

n/a: I wrote this today, 1.7K words, I have zero idea why but since my inspiration is not going towards my published on going stories, I decided to be writing things and posting them, to not lose the fun. ENJOY!

warnings: emotional eating(? mostly like binge behaviour but not like BED.

DON'T FORGET YOUR DAILY CLICK

You were running behind her trying to catch up to her but her steps were firm, and by the way she walked, you knew she was truly angry. You had messed up this time.

All your friends stayed in the bar after the scene you caused ¿Was it truly all you though? That girl was too close to Ellie, giggling, touching her arm, whispering things in her ear and you had to watch that from the other side of the table, having to endure the occasional glances from your friends. They were seeing it too but there was no way they were going to say anything, they just wanted to know if you were okay with what was happening.

How could you be? Why was Ellie letting that happen? Why was she smiling too? Her face was slightly red, you wanted to assume that it was the alcohol and not the words that were mutter in her ear by the girl, a pretty one… No, you couldn’t stay calm, not when it felt as if you were the one who didn’t belong. So when you stood up and your drink was emptied on the girls’s head, everyone gasped.

She screamed calling you ‘crazy bitch’, Jesse had to hold you to not jump over the table and show her how crazy you could be. Ellie grabbed your arm, dragging you outside of the bar, you were still screaming harmful things to her.

The cold breeze of the winter hit your hot face but you were fuming and you would’ve have kept screaming if it wasn’t for the demanding tone on Ellie’s voice telling you that it was enough, that’s how you were now running towards her. She stopped her walk and turn around, making you stop to and catch your breath.

There was a big gap between you two in that alley that you two end up with only some lamppost with low lights, she scoffed “You always want way too much. If I even look away for a sec, It’s like my brain’s on fire, you are way too intense, but you did there was just embarrassing, not only for me but for you, I hope you are aware of that”

You bit your lip, nodding slowly, trying to hold your tears while she was looking down at you. You had words stuck on your throat waiting to be thrown up, all your feelings, your mind was sending them as if it was keyboard smashing but when you opened your mouth only three words came out “Yes, I’m sorry”

“I bet you are” She simply said turning around and start to walk away again, leaving you there, cold hugging your bones making you shiver as you saw her vanished in the shadows of the night. The lights started flickering which made you come back from your little trance, swiping the drops that escaped your eyes.

You started walking opposite direction of her, not back to your friends, you couldn’t bear the humiliation that you brought by ‘‘overreacting’’ and if you saw that girl again you would not hesitate to break all her bones even if the rage had left your body after the glacial words of Ellie. The green neon lights of some 24h store made you enter it without saying hello, straight to grab a basket and fill it with a lot of sweets, not even caring about the price.

It look tasty? In. It had chocolate? In. Was it sweet chestnut red bean jelly? One of Ellie’s favourites, you had to have it in your stomach, maybe it would reach your heart and it would feel complete since Ellie liked the candy. You’ve watched her devour them throughout your relationship, maybe this would devour your heart the same way she was doing and make it explode because of all the sugar.

The walk to you house was entertaining as you chew slowly the fifth chocolate bar, this one had prunes in it, which made you gag a little bit, but you still ate it. It was gross but sweet at the same time, like a toxic relationship, like yours with Ellie ¿Right? Your relationship was addictive like chocolate but prudes came along and made it gross.

¿What were you doing? Comparing your relationship with food was stupid but as you enter your home, kicking off your shoes and sitting on the floor with your back resting on the couch, your thighs touching your chest and your mouth wide open while throwing half bag of acid candy inside of it. Your eye twitched, your mouth got out of your mouth involuntary and instant regret filled your facial expression but you laughed it off watching your reflect in the TV.

The memories when Ellie and you made stupid mistakes that later on would become in little stories that made you laugh when in the moment of the heat, it made you both cry, be mad, storm off the room but the moment your eyes met again it was all hugs, kisses and little ‘I’m sorry, I love you’. Thinking about that while you opened the cream buns and started munching one by one.

You bought two packs that came with three buns each, so you end up eating six buns. Your stomach was starting to feel weird and it made you feel nauseous but your mind was pushing you to keep eating, there was a void to fill and nothing you were eating seemed to satisfy the need, you were getting more desperate as the salty taste of your tears mix with the sweetness of the strawberry puffs.

Maybe if you weren’t so afraid of speaking your mind when the confrontation comes, things would be different but you were so scared that your words would drive her away that you just kept silent and apologized seconds later after your mistake, even if it wasn’t your fault, even if it irritated Ellie that you never spoke your mind, you just bottled up and exploded later on overdoing it. The thing was, that she knew what stuff made you act up and she still do them to get any reaction from you.

Tonight was not the first interaction Ellie had with the girl, all those other hangouts she clung on her as if she was the girlfriend and not you, pushing you away or sitting besides Ellie before you could, etc. You kept silent, swallowing all your thoughts, creating a pot of full venom on your stomach that you blurred out this night.

¿Why Ellie wanted to push you to show that she was yours? She should’ve created space between them two too. You sighed, you should’ve told her that, you needed to start communicating much better, stop eating your feeling and making you sick for days.

You look at the deflated plastic bag, anxiety running through your body ¿There was nothing left? ¿You ate everything? That was impossible, you needed to replace what was missing in your heart. You grabbed the bag upside down, shaking it until a red plastic envelope fall… the sweet chestnut red bean jelly, the last candy.

You wanted to eat it slowly, you were chewing and swallowing, barely feeling what was entering your belly, but this one? You had to. You took a small bite and started chewing slowly, feeling the soft jellied texture of it with the right level of sweetness letting the red bean flavour shine with its earthy taste and a hint of nuttiness.

Ellie’s face while eating it appeared in your head, a big smile, her cheeks full of it and begging you to try it, which you’ve never did, always thinking that it was a weird combination of flavours. The shine in her green eyes whenever she could find them in any store, buying at least three pack, the time she wanted to dye her auburn hair the same red as the bean jelly but you talked her out of it, the day she tried to bake it and almost got intoxicated…

The candy was halfway done. You looked at your phone, it’s been hours since you two went different directions ¿Did she arrived okay at home? Did she turn around and try to come back at you? ¿Did she go back to the bar? It did not matter, you missed her, you wanted to talk to her, you both needed that to go to sleep, you knew it. She was not going to call first, she was stubborn, so it was in your sweaty hands as you dialled her number.

…

She picked up, you could hear her breath, no words. You wanted to be firmed, not cold but neutral, one ‘We have to talk, be matured about this, communication’ and that was it, but maybe because of how sticky the jelly was around your tongue, your next words were completely different:

“So, I have half a red bean jelly and I know how much you liked them, I was thinking that maybe I could save it for later but It would go bad, Can I go to your house and give it to you?”

You facepalmed yourself mentally, closing your eyes and letting your head rest in the couch seat, looking at the ceiling, repeating the word ‘stupid’ all over without making a sound. Ellie clicked her tongue and you heard the zip of something and the sound of some keys.

“I’m on my way” She said ending the call, your eyes almost popped looking at your phone’s screen. Your tired body suddenly was hit with an energy boost, you stood up and looked at the floor full of packages of sweets, you looked at yourself in the mirror, you looked like a disaster.

The way you cleaned everything and still had time to cleaned up yourself a little bit made you think that maybe you acquired a new power, you were sure it had a name…

Knock, Knock. There she was, you don’t needed to check, you knew it because of the way your heart jumped pushing you towards the door, opening it and letting her in.

As she walked in, her eyes not even checking you, your body felt weak but excited at the same time. You were more than ready to speak your mind, you were so ready that the word you were searching before came through your mind.

Sugar Rush.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams au #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie the last of us #elliewilliams #ellie williams #angst #fluff #ellie williams angst #snowy vee #ellie tlou #ellie fanfic #bibi #bam yang gang #Spotify

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gayerthanevertbh · 1 year

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infidelity | futile devices pt. 1

pairings: fuckboy!natasha romanoff x fem!reader

natasha romanoff masterlist | series masterlist | navigation

summary: you and wanda have been best friends ever since you were little babies, and you’ve went through a lot with her. in august 2019 when you met wanda’s girlfriend, natasha, you completely fell in love with her. what happens when the three of you create a love triangle that could possibly ruin everything?

warnings: intense staring, infidelity, and nothing much since it’s only the start of the story.

author’s note: enjoy the first part of the story! what do you want to happen in the next part? let me know!

Years ago, before I knew what futile devices were, I met Wanda at kindergarten in our small town in New England. She started out as a bully, but after we ate lunch together, I knew we would become more than just a bully and a victim. Since then, she has protected me, especially from those who didn't like me very much. I may have had a crush on her at first, but I was aware that if I said anything inappropriate, our friendship would end. I couldn't stop myself from having a crush on Wanda Maximoff at the time. She was a tall brunette with big green eyes who always tried to protect me. We've been through so much together as best friends, and we even shared our first kiss because no one would dare to kiss me. Wanda, on the other hand, always saved her first mind-blowing kiss for me, and it was surprisingly good when we did it. I recall her saying, "There you go, now you can kiss anyone in this room," but that never happened. I was too afraid to be in a relationship after witnessing Wanda's, which was not particularly good.

She told me the meaning of futile devices while we were in the park together. “Beyond words,” she says. “Futile means vain, pointless. In other words, if you want to say your love for them, you can’t. It’s just too much.”

“Is that supposed to be romantic?” I asked, she only lets out a controlled chuckle before drinking from her flask.

“Sure, if you want it to be.”

Since then, I knew that I could never describe my love for Wanda – because it was too much, too impotent, and vain. If I say it out loud, what would she do? Perhaps she would leave me in the air, possibly never speaking to me again. But knowing her so well, I knew she wouldn’t do that to me. It was still scary to say it out loud, and I’m sure that I could never say how much I love her – no matter how painful it could be.

We stayed friends until we graduated from high school together. Wanda had a boyfriend named Chucky, and I was with Brandon, my date because he was the only boy I could find. Brandon was with me the majority of the time because I didn't want to be alone this summer. I suppose you could say he was my first boyfriend with whom I never lost my virginity. We split up when our first semester began. When he left me, I didn't feel too much emotion; in fact, I was relieved that he did. Wanda asked why I was always smiling when she brought me chocolates after my breakup.

“Aren’t you sad that Brandon left you?” I shook my head, eating the last piece of chocolate bar in the wrapper. “You’re so weird, you know that?”

“Yeah, but I’m your weirdo.”

She only laughs, agreeing with a nod.

“Yes you are,” she said. “Let’s just watch a movie, yeah? We still have to study tomorrow.”

Months later, I was working at a bakery shop while Wanda was trying to learn to be a bartender since it’s always been her first dream job. I did like my life for a little while, working at a bakery shop was the best thing that ever happened to me. Wanda did like hers since she came home with a drunk look on her face. When August came along, we started to become distant from each other. I don’t know why. Maybe because I’ve gotten so busy with my job and my school work, and she was always out since she has a new girlfriend. I never expected that from her, dating a girl. I mean, I always knew that she was bisexual, but it was unexpected when she told me that she was truly in love with this college girl from a different university.

I was a little jealous because Wanda had been spending too much time with her instead of with me, and if I had to lie to myself, I'd say I was happy for her - but I wasn't. How could you choose someone you met two months ago and decide to leave me hanging? What happened to both of us? This isn't going to last, I tell myself. That was something I had to tell myself in order not to get hurt. But every time she comes home, I get the impression that I'm no longer number one in her heart.

In the third week of September, Wanda decided to bring her girlfriend over to our apartment, with our two friends from the university. While I was preparing for dinner, our friend Peter and Kate was at the door. I opened it slowly and gave them a big smile on my face since I don’t know what other emotions I should use.

“Did you only invite us because Wanda has this amazing hot girlfriend?” Kate giggled, which I nodded in response. She knew that I was joking, I never thought I have humor.

“Are you also excited to meet her?”

“Hey, maybe she’s nice!” Peter exclaimed happily, walking towards the dining area as he sits beside Kate. “It’s only the right time for Wanda, I mean she always has this boyfriend or girlfriend until she’ll break up with them two weeks later.”

“She seems like a green flag,” Kate said. “Aren’t you happy for her? You guys have been best friends ever since you came out from your mother’s vagina.”

I chuckled, “We met at kindergarten.”

“The point is, you should be happy for her. I know you’re still in love with her–”

“We don’t talk about that.”

“-But maybe you should start moving on,” she finishes herself, sighing deeply. “I have a dude for you, his name is Steve. He’s in my class.”

Will this guy help me move on from Wanda Maximoff?

“Oh yeah? What does he do?”

“He’s apparently taking medicine, which means he’s also not available. People who take medicine are always busy, like extremely busy.”

I turned around, shrugging my shoulders. “So what’s the point of me dating this guy then if he’s not available?”

She mimicked my shrug, playing with her fingers. “I don’t know, I was just suggesting–”

“Thanks for the suggestion but, I’m good being on my own.”

I’ve always been on my own, even though Wanda was always around.

30 minutes later, I heard murmuring from the other room, and I realized Wanda had brought her girlfriend, who had caught my eye. She was tall - but not too tall - and had her hair tied in the back of her head; she also had green eyes like Wanda, but hers were darker, so I couldn't see the details of her pupils. When the woman caught my eye, I turned away and hugged Wanda briefly, asking, "So this is her?"

“Yeah,” she replied. “This is Natasha, my girlfriend for a month.”

I cast a quick glance at Natasha and shook her hand; it was calloused but not too rough on my skin. She smiled warmly and said, "It's nice to meet you, Y/n. Wanda has told me lots of stories about you.”

“Like how I’m such a bad friend?” I said in a joking matter, watching as Wanda playfully rolls her eyes. “I’m glad you can make it, how about you sit down? The food is ready.”

I returned to my table and sat beside Wanda while Natasha was in the opposite direction, her eyes roaming all over the place. I assumed that she was enticed by our home since it was full of framed paintings and a telephone from the corner of the room – it wasn’t working, we just decided that it looked nice in our apartment.

“So where do you study, Romanoff?” Kate asked while drinking from the wine glass that I bought from a dollar store. Natasha sighed and placed her fork on the plate, slowly chewing the food.

“I study at Columbia,” she responded quietly. “I met Wanda at my university, and we hit it off right away.”

“But aren’t you from NYU, Wanda?”

“I just had a quick visit at the university, to see if I still had other options.”

“Were you ever going to tell me that you’ll be studying at Columbia?” I asked, trying my best not to show defectiveness about this conversation. “I thought we agreed to study together and graduate in the same school together.”

“That was the plan, and I want to study with you,” Wanda said, sighing through her nose. “I was just looking at my options. If I didn’t end up studying at NYU, then I’d study at Columbia.”

“But if you ever did study in Columbia, were you going to tell me?”

I was hurt by this information since Wanda knows that she was my only friend, and will always be my best friend. Before we even started college, we both agreed that attending the same school was the best option. I guess she changed her mind after meeting Natasha, who appears to be my nemesis. It’s not like I didn’t want the best for her, but her going to the same school as I made me feel like I was important to her. I would say I’m a little self-centered.

“Of course,” said Wanda with a small smile on her face, holding hands with Natasha. “We still live together, you know? What would be a harm studying in at another university?”

She was right, she has always been right.

I caught Natasha's gaze while we were eating and talking about physics, which I dislike talking about because I despise science. Her eyes appeared... hungry. But I couldn't assume she wanted me that way because she had Wanda, so I shifted my gaze to Kate's. But I could still feel her eyes on me as if they were glued to me only. When I returned my gaze to her, she was staring at Wanda. As strange as it may sound, I liked how she gave me those stares in her eyes because no one would ever stare at me like that.

“What do you study, Y/n?” Natasha asked, eating a forkful of meat that I had just baked in the oven.

“Literature,” I replied quietly, placing my foot on top of the other since I feel like I’m having anxiety talking to this woman who looks like a senior. “You? You seem like a person who doesn’t study.”

“And she speaks,” Wanda giggled, causing everyone to laugh too. “Who taught you how to talk back, missy?”

I shrugged, “Just myself.”

"Photography, in case you were wondering," the redhead replied, wiping her mouth with a tissue as she drank a bottle of beer that I had opened for her. "I photograph places, people, and a variety of other subjects. That’s why me and Wanda are a match, she likes photography.”

There was no way I'd ever match this obnoxious, self-centered, narcissistic individual. I wouldn't call her a narcissist, but she certainly has the appearance of one. Plus, why am I thinking that I could ever get with her? She clearly has those lovey-dovey eyes on Wanda; not me.

“What year are you in?” Kate chimes in, looking at Natasha with curiosity in her eyes.

“Fourth year,” she said. “This is my last year, actually. After that, I might move back to Ohio.”

“Why Ohio?” Peter suddenly asked. Natasha only sighs in response and takes another drink from her beer, smacking her lips together, as if she doesn’t know what to say next or do. Yet, she still replies in that husk tone.

“I have a family there,” she slowly responded, looking briefly at Wanda and then towards me. “Wanda says you’re from Ohio too, that’s where you two met.”

“That’s true,” I said. “But we moved to New York shortly after high school, I’m not technically from here.”

“It seems like it, you don’t have that New Yorker accent.”

"But Peter does," Wanda laughs as she pours herself another cheap red wine and swirls it in her glass. "How do you like living in New York?" It's as if we're in our thirties, but half of us are only in our twenties, and Natasha is almost in her late twenties because Wanda told me her age.

“It’s great,” he says in a positive tone and clasped his hands together on his lap. “The rent is expensive, but it’s all good. I still like the smell of the air here, it never gets old.”

“New York isn’t the most ideal city,” Kate chimed in again. “But you know, they have good schools here. My parents are billionaires, so like I don’t really have to worry about rent.”

“I wish I lived in your life,” I murmured, smirking at her playfully, which Wanda saw and felt uncomfortable in her seat. Was she jealous? “You have billionaire parents and live that rich life, I’m just a girl from Ohio who is incredibly in love with her job.”

“Didn’t you say you work at the bakery?” now, Natasha’s eyes were on me as she spoke. I slowly nodded my head before taking a sip from my wine glass, licking it between my lips. “Do you like working there?”

“It pays the rent, so yeah.”

After dinner, Peter and Kate said their goodbyes and returned home, leaving just me, Wanda, and Natasha on the couch. I was scrolling through Tinder on my phone when I noticed Natasha giving Wanda a head massage and kissing her on the forehead. When I see them do this, especially right in front of me, it makes my stomach churn. How did Wanda find someone so quickly and not me? Why isn't she head over heels in love with me? Why can't I be the one? But if I keep comparing myself to this woman, I know I'll end up feeling terrible.

“You guys should get a room, you’re making me want to vomit," I muttered under my breath, turning off my phone to get a better look at them - but that turned out to be the most sickening thing I've ever done because I was watching them kissing sweetly right in front of me, causing me to stand up and walk back to my room. I went to bed with my lights turned off after a quick warm shower and skincare routine. They were either going to kill me or that girlfriend Wanda had brought into this apartment. Throughout this eventful evening, her eyes were on me instead of Wanda’s – which is kind of suspicious.

I took a deep breath and rolled over on my back, clasping my hands together as my palms sweat. I'm not sure what was wrong with me; I just had this strange feeling about Natasha. Something thumped inside of me when I met her. I sighed and whispered, “Futile devices, how ridiculous that sounds.”

And it truly does if you think about your best friend’s girlfriend.

it gets real in the next part lol

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x you #black widow x reader #futile devices series by anne

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upsidedownwithsteve · 2 years

Text

Eddie Muson x fem!reader[3.2k] prompt: patching Eddie up after he got into a fight. Soft Eddie, clothes sharing, Eddie's a little huffy shit.

Eddie Munson was not a fighter.

Not that you knew of, at least. You’d spent enough time with him in dive bars and after gigs to know that Eddie had a look to him that was just intimidating enough to keep trouble away. He was more man than boy now, all black leather, big rings, skulls and crossbones.

The strong lines of his nose and jaw made him look a little sharp and it created some sort of barrier, one that most people didn’t want to cross. You’d sit on his lap at these bars, tucked into the corner with his friends, tucked into him.

You’d tease him a little, soft mocking that was always soothed by a kiss straight away. Your whispers would be laced with cheap beer and sticky sweetness, his hands curled around your thigh as you told him how scary he was, how badass he looked on stage.

You told him all that, grinning, only to remind him the act always crumbled when he jumped off of the stage, found you and smiled. Maybe beam was more of the correct word, that slow stretch of his lips that showed off his dimples. You swore it made his eyes brighter, chocolate brown to caramel, all brown sugar and fondness.

Eddie Munson melted, but only for you.

And after over a year with the boy, you could readily confirm that he was very much a lover, not a fighter.

It’s why you were so surprised to get a call from Gareth one night, not all that late. You’d worked overtime and came home with a headache, annoyed with yourself when you had to tell Eddie that you weren’t feeling up to a gig tonight. His band wasn’t even playing, it was just some other guys from out of town playing some Dio covers, but it upset you nonetheless to have to cancel on the boy.

Eddie had just pulled you into his arms, pressing soft kisses into your cheeks, laying down a pretty line of them until he could brush his lips over your forehead, pressing his nose to your hairline as he told you not to worry.

“Can have my girl feeling shitty for the sake of some bad guitar and lukewarm beer,” he’d said.

Eddie had left you in your bed in one of his shirts, a soft grey thing with a sun bleached Metallica logo on the front. It still smelled like him, smoke and spice, something a little woodsy, something that reminded you of coffee and home.

It’s probably why you fell asleep so quickly, the credits of the movie you’d only seen the beginning of rolling across the screen as your phone rang. It was disorienting, the clock telling you it had only just passed eleven, the few hours of sleep you’d gotten making you feel heavy and slow.

A phone call after eight o’clock always made you panic and your heart was racing a little quicker when you picked it up, the house dark and empty as you stood in your kitchen with the receiver pressed to your ear.

Hearing Eddie’s friend on the other line did nothing to soften that worry and as soon as you realised it was Gareth, your voice was a rush of panic, asking the boy what was wrong, where was Eddie, was he okay?

But then he was telling you to calm down, Eddie was fine. But this was more than a ‘one too many beers’ situation, and that your boyfriend has landed himself in a little trouble. Gareth was almost laughing as he told you that the other boy was refusing to get into the car.

You could hear Eddie in the background, voice sounding a little drunk and a lot forlorn as he whined about how “she’s gonna be so mad at me.”

“Gareth, what did he do?”

“Defended your honour and got himself punched in the face.”

You gasped, shocked at the idea of Eddie in a fight and before you could ask if he was okay, or what had even happened, Jeff was wrestling the pay phone out of his friend's hand and telling you excitedly, “s’okay! You should’ve seen the other guy!”

You closed your eyes, head leaning on the doorframe of the kitchen and you sighed.

“I’ll be there in twenty.“

You had the common sense to pull on some pyjama shorts before you stuffed your bare feet into some old trainers, Eddie’s shirt covering the majority of your thighs anyway. You were lucky the night was still warm as you got into your car, pulling out into the dark streets towards The Hideout.

There were a bunch of boys in the parking lot, loitering and looking entirely too menacing in leather and spikes, chains and rings and messy hair. Smoke surrounded most of them, pretty tendrils of grey blue in the air and they would’ve been an intimidating sight if it wasn’t for the curly haired boy lying flat on the grass, a pout on his lips and his hand holding his cheek.

You parked the car a little askew, not really caring as the pub’s patrons started to clear out, an annoyed barmaid standing at the front door as she yelled about how cleaning up blood wasn’t part of her job description.

Eddie didn’t see you walk over, in fact, he didn’t see you at all until you were standing over him, hands on your hips and head tilted to the side.

“Hey, slugger.”

The boy’s eyes opened in a flash, something softening in them at the sight of you. But then he groaned, wincing, as if waiting for his scolding. It never came, you were far more concerned about how he was feeling.

“Baby,” Eddie mumbled and he said it like ‘sorry.’ A soft sigh escaped him and he sat up, a palm curling warm around the back of your bare calf. “Who called you?”

“Gareth,” you told him, one hand going to his head. Your fingers scraped through his curls, a little messy and tangled from whatever scuffle he managed to get himself into.

Eddie lay his head against the soft of your tummy, cheek resting against his own shirt and he glared accusingly at the boy, who had the right to look a little scared.

“Snitch,” Eddie grunted before turning back into you, face pressed against your stomach and he drew lines up the backs of your thighs with gentle fingers.

“You okay?” You asked him, soft enough that the rest of his friends wouldn’t hear. “What happened?”

A grunt, a grumble and a kiss to your ribs was all you really got before you tugged a little at his curls, making his head fall back so he would look at you. Eddie was pouting again.

“Eddie,” you admonished, thumbing over the soft push of his bottom lip, smiling and rolling your eyes when he pressed a kiss to it. “What happened?”

“M’fine,” he told you, “just those assholes from Trash Monkey talkin’ shit and not knowing when to shut up.”

You knew of the other band he was talking about, some guys from the next town over who always drank too much and ended up smashing up a guitar on stage. So you hummed in agreement, your fingertips finding the edge of a fresh bruise that was beginning to bloom on your boyfriend's cheek.

The colours bled into the corner of his eye, lilacs and blues, ringed by red, angry skin. You tutted, watched the way Eddie’s eyes fluttered shut against your gentle contact and you had to tap his chin to get his attention again.

You held him there, finger thumb on stubble, keeping his eyes on you.

“What happened, Eds?” He still hadn’t answered that question.

The rest of the boys went quiet and no one said anything when Eddie just shrugged, gaze flickering off to the side so he didn’t have to look at your earnest expression. You huffed, dropping your hand from his chin and gesturing to your car instead.

“Come on,” you told him, “let’s go.”

He followed without argument, an overgrown puppy at your heels and he barely said bye to his friends as he placed a hand on your back, chancing a touch despite knowing you weren’t happy with him. You didn’t like being kept in the dark.

You didn’t speak again until you were back on the main road that led you into town, away from the dive bars and open fields, where little street light leaked into the dark.

“Mine or yours?” You asked, eyes on the road.

He was fiddling with his rings, knuckles a little swollen and red, the finger with his skull ring split at the thickest part, bloodied and angry looking.

“You got beer in the house, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, “‘cause I need one.” He was prodding at his cheek, the slant of it mottled with different colours, the bruise darkening as time ticked by.

Eddie hissed as he pushed into a particularly tender spot. He frowned and so did you.

You didn’t answer him, you merely just turned into your street, knowing that your house was empty and your dad definitely had some beers in the fridge. And you knew Eddie liked your bed better than his.

“Why won’t you tell me what happened?”

“Because you don’t like it when I fight,” Eddie mumbled petulantly.

You took your eyes off the road long enough to spare a glance at the boy, bathed in the yellow orange of the flickering street lights. Eddie was leaving into the seat, cheek pressed to the fabric and gazing at you from underneath his lashes. He looked too pretty, bruises and all, and you wanted to reach out and brush away his curls.

“I don’t like it when you teach Dustin and Max how to pick locks either,” you grumbled good naturedly, “but you still do that too.”

Eddie grinned, boyish and like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

He was still looking at you when you parked back in your driveway, silence sweeping over your both as you turned off the engine. Eddie’s hand reached over the console to squeeze at the soft of your thigh, bare skin a little colder now that you’d been away from your bed for so long. He tugged at the hem of your sleep shorts, smiled fond when he realised it was his shirt you were wearing.

“Thanks for comin’ to get me, sweetheart,” Eddie mumbled.

He sounded tired, but not drunk, and you turned to him with a twist to your lips, unable to hide your smile even though you still weren’t best pleased with your boyfriend. “In the house Munson, c’mon.”

Your hands were on Eddie's ass as you persuaded him up your stairs and into your family’s bathroom. He protested softly, once, twice, telling you that he was fine and the beer was in the kitchen, not the bathroom. But once he clocked the furrow between your brow, the downturn of your lips, he gave in and let you manhandle him into the small room.

You didn’t have to ask him to sit on the countertop, Eddie did it anyway, bangs falling into his eyes and the low glow of the vanity light turned him into shades of gold and peach. He watched you in silence as you moved around the room, opening cabinets and drawers until you gathered what you needed, cotton wool, antiseptic and flannels thrown onto the counter beside the boy.

Quick work was made as you filled the sink up with some cold water, tilting your head towards it as you unscrewed the cap to the bottle of cleaning alcohol. You wrinkled your nose at the smell of it and waved away Eddie’s sore hands as he tried to help.

“No, no,” you told him softly, “put your hands in the sink babe, we need to get those rings off.”

Eddie frowned but did as he was told, his leather jacket already a heap on the floor and you toed it out of the way when he grunted, scrunching his pretty features at you in disdain.

“Baby, it’s fuckin’ cold.”

You snorted, grinning at his whine, “I know,” you told him, “your knuckles are all swollen, dummy, we need to cool them down first.”

Despite your words, your tone was still soft, all soothing as you busied yourself around the boy. And when you had enough cotton soaked in antiseptic, you tapped at Eddie’s knee and he hissed as he took his hands out of the cold water.

“Can’t feel my goddamn fingers,” Eddie groaned.

“Oh, good,” you smiled, a little mockingly, “that’ll make this easier then.” And with that, you eased off each of his heavy, silver rings, the band still a little tight over his poor, swollen knuckles but they came off much easier than they would’ve before.

Eddie made soft noises of discomfort as the metal passed over the broken skin, cuts in the lines of his fingers that were still a little bloody. You hushed him, soothing sounds leaving your lips in nonsensical words of comfort.

“I know, pretty boy, m’sorry, almost there.”

Each ring clattered against the side of the sink and you didn’t give him much warning before you were stepping between the boy’s knees and bringing a hand to your chest. You pressed a quick kiss to his palm before you swept the cotton over each knuckle, soaking the open wounds in disinfectant.

Eddie jumped and hissed, his thighs tightening around your waist as he pulled you into him. He was frowning, big brown eyes a little sad, glaring at you as if you’d meant to hurt him.

“Don’t be a baby,” you murmured, smiling at his cute pout.

“That shit stings,” he grumbled back, shuffling on the counter until his ass was closer to the edge, granting you more room between his knees to curl into him.

“Well, don’t get into fights, Eds,” you levelled him with a stare, one he knew too well. “Wouldn’t have to douse you in alcohol, would I? God knows what kinda bar germs are stuck in these cuts.”

“You’re hot when you’re mean, you know that?” His voice was all smooth and warm, honey and sugar, flirting as much as apologising.

You rolled your eyes at him, didn’t bother to try and hide your smile as you continued to wipe down his sore hands. You dumped the bloodied cotton in the trash when you were done, tutted and took the boy’s chin between your finger and thumb to inspect his bruised cheek.

“You’re gonna look like a badass in the morning, babe,” you told him, your own pout painting your lips at the sight of his sore face. “That’s gonna be some bruise.”

“You mean even more of a badass?” Eddie smirked, all messy hair and dark eyes.

Another roll of your eyes, a huff of laughter and you relented easily when his hands curled around your wrists, tugging you to him. He was taller than usual on his perch beside the sink, a whole head and shoulders above you. But his palm found its way to your jaw, fingers sweeping along the slope of it until his thumb smoothed over your cheek. Eddie leaned in and down, crowding over you - smoke and bourbon and warmth and home.

His nose nudged yours, bumping into your cheek, foreheads touching. “Kiss,” he mumbled, soft and sleepy.

“Demanding,” you whispered.

“Please,” came next, sticky sweet and like candy against the corner of your lips. Eddie was hovering, mouth over yours, waiting, as if you’d ever deny him. “Please, baby?”

You indulged him then, let him kiss away the smile he created, mouth slipping over yours, trapping your bottom lip between his. He tasted like whiskey and weed, like Eddie. It was one of those kisses that made you feel so loved, like he was coveting every pass of your mouth over his, a slow sweep of his tongue against your own, nose smushed to your cheek like he could never, ever get close enough.

Eddie pulled back just enough, close enough to lean into you still, to swipe his thumb over your bottom lip and murmur a soft “thank you,” into your neck.

It wasn’t until you were tangled together in your bed, sheets pushed to the bottom of the mattress, pillows askew because your head preferred Eddie’s bare chest, that he eventually spilled his secret. Your leg was thrown over his lip, bare apart from his shirt, one hand in your hair and the other pushed under the soft cotton, palm warm against your spine.

You were both fighting sleep, that heavy lull that made your cheek smush to the muscles in his chest. Eddie was grazing his lips over your hairline, a soft back and forth that made it difficult to even hear him when he whispered to your temple:

“Baby?”

You stirred, tightened your hold around his waist and hummed in response.

“M’sorry I got into a fight,” he whispered, the darkness of your room making him feel a little braver, “I didn’t mean to.”

You sighed soft, pushing your lips to the slant of the boy’s collar bone as if you could kiss his apology away. “Eds it’s okay, don’t have to be sorry, jus’ don’t like seeing you hurt, that’s all.”

He hummed in understanding, a hand coming to sweep back your hair as he littered tiny kisses across your cheek, your nose. Everything was slow and lazy, soft and worn down with sleep. It was lovely, it made you ache, made you wonder how you could possibly ever sleep on the nights that you didn’t have Eddie beside you.

“Matty T made a comment about you,” he mumbled, “that cocky little shit of a drummer from Trash-”

“Trash Monkey,” you finished for him, “yeah, I know. He’s an ass,” you agreed, wondering what the other boy could have possibly said for Eddie to lash out.

“He is,” Eddie nodded and it was so dark in your room that you could only barely make out the soft whites of his eyes when you pulled back to gaze at him. “He asked me where you were, said somethin’ disgusting ‘bout how I needed to learn how to share.”

You wrinkled your nose. “That’s pretty gross, yeah.”

Eddie mumbled something you couldn’t quite hear before he tucked his face into your neck, nose pressed to the spot he liked to kiss the most. His arms found your waist again, winding round tight, his palms smoothing up your sides until he found bare skin.

Bare hips, bare waist, bare breasts. He sighed, kissed under your ear and curled closer.

“Told him he was a fuckin’ pig who needed to learn some manners,” the boy continued, “but he kept runnin’ his damn mouth.”

Suddenly, you didn’t feel as mad as you previously had about your boyfriend’s sudden change in temper.

“Punched the asshole before I even realised, Gareth stepped in, then musta’ called you.”

“Oh,” you breathed, wondering if it was possible to love the boy more. “Not that I’m encouraging violence, baby, but thank you… I think.”

Eddie snorted, face burrowing closer into you, one hand finding the bend in your knee so he could hitch your leg to a little higher on his hip. You weren’t sure where you ended and he started. You definitely didn’t mind.

“Knight in shining armour, am I right?”

“More like Tarzan in a leather jacket,” you grinned, “but just as sweet, sure.”

You got a grin back, another kiss, soft and as sweet as the boy.

“I’ll take it,” Eddie told you happily.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #strangers things #stranger things fic

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