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courtingchaos · 7 months

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Collared

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

Freak Like Me

A/N: Just take this. I looked at it for too long and I hate it now. Also, this is for every emo from the early 2000’s who ironically wore a collar in high school and did some real damage to their future selves, aka You Gave Yourself a Kink You Big Idiot.

18+ NSFW No Minors

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

You stare into the box of childhood knickknacks at your feet and Eddie leans out of the closet to see what you’ve found. It dangles off of your index finger and your eyebrows raise high on your forehead.

“I had no idea you were into this.”

“Oh shut up, I wore it high school a few times.” He waves a hand at you to dismiss your grin.

“A leather collar?”

“I stole it from the mall.”

“Oh I bet you did.” You spin the black collar around your finger, metal o-ring attached to the front clinking on every go around. “What, from Hot Topic?”

“No, an actual sex shop. Jeff dared me to and then I thought it’d be funny if I put it on myself.” Eddie shrugs and tosses another handful of clothes behind him. “Some kind of stupid message about ‘being my own animal’.” He rolls his eyes and laughs at himself. “God I was real fuckin’ dumb.”

“No, just a kid.”

“I was 19.”

Your lips disappear between your teeth to stifle your laugh and Eddie rolls his wrist at you, telling you to get it over with. Your laugh follows him back into the closet where he also starts giggling at his past fashion choices.

He can hear you playing with it from the bathroom, the soft clinking muffled by the bed sheets. “Having fun with that?”

“Do you think it still fits?”

He spits in the sink and rinses off his toothbrush with a sigh. “Maybe? Why, wanna put me on a leash?”

Your silence is deafening.

“You do, don’t you?” He slowly walks down the short hallway separating the bathroom from the bedroom and leans on the corner of the wall, a slow rise of his hand to point at you accusingly. “Pervert.” He whispers at you through a wide grin.

“Like you’ve never thought about it.” You try it around your own neck for show and he wiggles his eyebrows at you. When you gesture it at him he pretends to be offended and turns on the dramatics.

“You just want to control me, just like The Man!” He hops on the bed and climbs up your legs to hover over you. “Well go on then.” He rests his weight on one hand and pulls his hair up in his fists. “Collar me if you must.” His head hangs while you giggle at his antics. Your fingers are light on his neck while you loop the scratchy leather around and he’s reminded why he stopped wearing it after a few weeks. You do up the small buckle on the back and run two fingers along the inside to make sure it isn’t choking him.

“Good fit?” He says down at your knees that pull together briefly. Those same two fingers lift his chin gently past your eye line so you can look at his neck.

“You look very handsome.”

Eddie pushes your hand away so he can lean in for a kiss. The soft clinking around his neck sounds funny in the quiet of your bedroom but he ignores it, right up until you give it a tug when he tries to sit up.

“Where are you goin’?” You ask against the kiss, your teeth nipping at his bottom lip. You follow him back until he has to kick his legs out from under him and then you’re pressing him against the comforter. You don’t break the kiss even when he laughs at you pulling at his shirt or when he tries to ask you what you’re doing. When the cotton gets bunched up under his chin you huff and pull back and he yanks the thin t-shirt off.

It doesn’t take long to loose the sleep clothes you both just put on, warm skin soft against each other when you straddle his thighs.

“This just gives me something to hang on to.” You use the metal ring as slight leverage when you scoot up to sit against his already hard cock. “Keep you right underneath me.”

“Oh?” He shifts his hips to try and get you to move but you just keep smiling at him.

“I think I’d like you in this more often actually.” A quick peck that he’s trying to chase until you pull on the ring again. “How’d you feel about that?”

“I feel great about that but I’d feel even better if you’d slide back just a bit-“

You were already reaching down to help guide him in, a long ‘oh’ pushing out of his chest when you sit back on his hips.

“Like that?” One quick lift just to land back against him, his eyes closing momentarily.

“Yeah, you like that.” You flex around him and rock lightly enjoying the slight friction you get against your growing ache. He lets his hands fall over his head, leaving you free to roam his torso and pull at the collar. It rubs the back of his neck a little wrong but there’s a twitch of your lips every time he lets out a breathy moan that he doesn’t want going away. Wet kisses fall on his chest and over his collarbones, teeth following to nip at the thin skin along the collar.

Everything you’re doing is in slow motion from the drag of your mouth to the random lifting of your hips. He’s stuck under you, frustrated at your speed but trying to revel in the wet drag of your cunt.

“You should let me be in charge more often.”

“Oh?” It comes out breathier than he intended.

“I think you like it.” Slow, deliberate rolls of your hips. “Just getting to lay there and look pretty.”

“Pretty?”

“Yeah, got a problem with that?”

The rhythmic tugging on the back of his neck when you rock back has him feeling fuzzy, thoughts a little slow and words even slower.

“No.” He sounds tipsy and you grin at him, a groan pushing through your heavy breaths. His hands wander from your hips to your thighs, thick fingers digging into the soft meat of your ass when you pulse around him. Your head falls back as you grind down and catch your clit on the coarse hair just above his cock, a slow spread of warmth creeping up your hips.

“Doing so good for me.” You shudder and roll inward, grip tightening on the ring. “Letting me use you like this.” A smile that turns into a pleasured frown just as your hips start to loose their slow rhythm and Eddie takes his chance.

He needs control, can’t take your slow bouncing and you’re cooing down at him anymore. He grabs you under your thighs and rolls you quick so he can press your knees up almost into your chest. Your surprise is caught in your throat when he lays into you and sets a fast pace, fingers digging into the backs of your knees.

“Oh fuck-“

“Takin’ too long.” He pants. The feeling of the leather against his neck starting to annoy him and he growls at you. “Take it off.”

“No, I like it.” Quickly defiant your hand snakes up between your chests and rehooks on the o-ring, yanking his face closer to yours. His thrusts stutter as your eyes flick between his.

“Be a good boy.”

He pauses for a second, eyes unfocused when he looks down at you. He nods slowly and you mimic him, a smile growing wide on your face. “You like that too?”

“Uh huh.” It’s all breath while he stares at you. You pull again, slight but determined and his hands slip from your slick knees to the mattress.

“You gonna be good Eddie?”

His eyes roll in his skull and he keeps nodding, hips picking up pace against your ass. “So good.”

“Yeah?”

He knows he’s hitting deep when your voice catches on your question and your knees draw up against his sweaty chest. Your fingers tighten around the ring and your mouth hangs open on a gasp.

“You gonna make me cum?” Your other hand is already wedged between you to rub fast circles on your clit and you clench down on his cock, one ripple after another when you hit your stride. He’d like to, really he would, but if you keep this up he isn’t going to last, not with you pulling him around by his neck and holding him deep inside.

“Oh fuckfuckfuck.” A particularly deep roll of his hips has him loosing rhythm that turns into full on rutting and your breath in his ear. You stutter against his cheek and pull him down into your neck, you’re repeated ‘right there!’ making him forget everything but making you feel good. A high whine is his only warning before you tense up and draw his face down into your neck, the constant fluttering of your cunt pushing him into oblivion.

He drops his weight on you, pinning your legs between you two and his open mouth turns to love bites along your juglar while you both ride out your highs. His heavy breaths over your spit slick skin sends a shiver down your spine and straight to your core, another hit against your ebbing orgasm.

“I think,” he reaches up behind his head to undo the collar “if we’re gonna get into this kind of thing, I should invest in something that isn’t almost 20 years old.” There’s a raw spot where the rough edge of the leather scraped against his skin. “I deserve something soft, don’t you think?” He places a kiss on the top of your breast and you laugh lightly. Your hands grasp at the back of his neck to sooth, fingers inching up into his hair to scratch, and he starts to melt into you.

“I do.” You’re still doing that voice that drove him crazy earlier and he entertains another round before you deal your mind melting blow. “Good boys deserve very nice things.”

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson Fic #Eddie Munson Smut #Eddie Munson x Reader #My Fic #My Work

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codfanficedits · 8 months

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Cheating Ghost, full version.

I've always posted this in the parts as I wrote them, this is the full story. This story came to mind after I've suffered childhood abuse, and now my brother is following in the footsteps of my father.

Also, happy birthday to me.

CW: Domestic Violence, mentions of sex/describing sexual acts, mentions of rape.

18+ MDNI.

Ghost POV:

My hands on her hips, my lips leaving hickeys on her neck, my hard cock against her stomach. It all felt so right. Expect she wasn’t you. She was better than you, sexier, hotter, willing to try all the positions you wouldn’t do. She looked at me with the most hypnotizing eyes when I called her a good girl, those same eyes sparked when I called her my filthy slut. She was everything you couldn’t be for me. The first few times I felt incredibly guilty, I would spent minutes watching over you when you slept, cursing myself for being so weak, but as time passed, my heart stopped aching. Instead your flaws were showing even more. I knew you too well for you to be ever exciting again, I knew the way your lips tasted, the way your body felt on mine, I could predict your every move.

It took me 2 extra days to come home to you again. I had been dreading the moment, waiting until the very last moment to come home. Her smell still wrapped around my body as I set foot into our bedroom.

YOUR POV:

You and Ghost have been together for three years. You moved across the country for him, 10 days after you met him. You had been at his side ever since. You were there after the good missions, the bad missions and the failed mission. You were there to kiss his bruises, to hold him while he cried about a fallen teammate, you were there to celebrate every success he had in his career.

But lately things had changed. His mission taking longer than you were used to, him being more distant, no longer sharing the details of a mission with you. The first few weeks you tried to ignored it, thought it was because of a bad mission, but after a while you couldn’t ignore it anymore. Something was going on. Ghost was away on a mission when you received a text from one of his teammates, telling you he had seen Ghost leave with another woman. It left your heart shattered. You wouldn’t believe it at first, Ghost would never do this to you. But you knew it would fit, it was the missing piece of information to tie all of his odd behaviour together. You tried to ignore it at first, until the place you used to call home, was no longer appealing to return to. You could hear him set foot into the bedroom. You waited, pretending to sleep so you wouldn’t have to face him. He just stood there, as if he was waiting for you to make the first move. “Hey..” You said, making your voice sound hoarse. “How long have you been standing there?” You ask him.

“I was just admiring the view.” He answered. The fucking liar. You kick back the blankets and pat on the bed. “Come here, I’ve missed you.”

He starts to undress, and you pretend you don’t see the hickeys on his happy trail. Looking at it makes me feel sick. He slides in to bed with me, and you can feel the distance. “How was the mission?” You ask, your fingertips caressing his jawline, like you always do. “Oh you know, same old, same old.” He tells you. You can smell her on him, her perfume smells floral and expensive. He didn’t even have the respect for you to at least take a shower before coming home to you. You roll over to your other side, “let’s go to sleep, you must be tired, baby.” You say.

He wraps his arm around you, pulling you close and kissing your neck. Her perfume invading your bed, his erection pressed against you. “How about we have some fun first, hm?”

You don’t know what makes you feel sicker. “I’m really tired, sorry.” You say, being too disgusted to even feel horny.

“Fine.” His voice got cold and he rolled away from you, refusing to touch you. Fine.

Your mind was racing, trying to make up a good excuse for him, it was trying to diffuse the situation. Surely there must be a logical explanation? He had fallen asleep next to you, you were wondering how he even could sleep at night. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe he.. Maybe he.. But your mind couldn’t come up with a good reason, it was way to easy to connect the dots. But you needed to know for sure.

You saw the screen of his phone light up. Bingo.

Careful to not wake him, you got up from bed, slowly taking his phone from the nightstand, trying to not make a sound. You snuck his phone into the bathroom, you tried to unlock it, his passcode was your birthday for ages. Access denied. You frown, maybe you made a mistake typing it. You try again, this time even more careful. Access denied.

Fuck.

You decided to type his own birthday, maybe he just happened to change it? It worked. As you scrolled through the messages you couldn’t really find anything. Soap sending him some memes. Captain Price reacting with two thumbs on everything Ghost send him. Gaz sending him pictures of food. Even their group chat was innocent.

You scrolled through everything. Until you found a hidden folder with pictures. Your eyes widened by the view. The pictures started looking innocent. Just some nudes, nothing too special. You could live with this.

Then they became more graphic. She was sitting on her knees, her tongue stuck out, semen on her face. You guess whose it was. You swiped again. It was her again, lying on a bed, looking at the camera with her hungry eyes.

A video. Against your better judgement you click on it. Your heart drops when you do so. He was fucking her like there was no tomorrow. She was on all fours, her face down, her ass up. You could tell by his pace that he was about to cum.

She helped it put it in again when it slipped out of her. It made you sick to your stomach. Yet you can’t stop watching. You’re torturing yourself. You can see his thick semen being shot on her back. You could imagine him grunting while he did so. You watch it again, pressing the volume button once. The sounds made you sick to your stomach, but your eyes were glued to the screen. The grunting was as you imagined, they were dancing with her moans. His voice cracked when he called her beautiful and you could feel your heart shatter.

A large hand slaps the phone out of your hand. “Do you always snoop through phones that aren’t yours?” A deep voice growled.

“Simon, what the fuck is this?” You ask. “What the FUCK is this?’ You yell at him.

“Oh come on, it’s nothing big.” He answered. “I’ve always been there for you!” You start to raise your voice again. “With every mission, good or bad. I have ALWAYS been by your side.”

His hand grabs your wrist. “Are you going to fucking behave?” He hisses in your ear. “Quit being a fucking drama queen.”

“Why? How could you?” Your voice sound defeated. He laughs at you. “Oh come on. You became boring. I can tell how you react at everything. It’s no longer exciting or new anymore.” He scoffs. He takes a step towards you. “Did you really think I loved you? Jezus Christ, you’re so fucking naïve.”

His words cut through you like knifes. Part of you wanted to change for him, be a more exciting person, anything so he wouldn’t leave you. But you weren’t stupid. You knew there was no coming back from this.

“I need you to get the fuck out of here.” You hissed. “Go sleep at Price or something.”

It was his laugh that sent the shivers down your spine. “I have to get out of here? Do I need to remind you this is my house? Take the few fucking things you own and get out before I kick you out.”

With tears in your eyes you grabbed your bag. You stuffed it with some clothes, your phone, your laptop and your wallet. He is right behind you when you walked out. Not saying a word to you. When you turned around to beg him to let you stay, his cold eyes told you enough. He slammed the door in your face. Leaving you all alone.

Ghost POV:

Of course I didn’t want it to end like this. She was always the safe option, but at least something was better than nothing.

I grab my phone, calling the girl I had been fucking for the past few months. A frustrated grunt leaves my throat when she doesn’t pick up. So I call again, and again until she finally picks up.

“What the fuck do you want?” She hisses at me. “It’s fucking 4 in the morning.” I let out an amused chuckle. I loved it when she was so feisty. “My girlfriend is gone for the night, and I don’t expect her home until noon. Care to come around?” I asked her. It’s quiet at the other side of the line and it is making me feel rejected. I hate that fucking feeling. “Well?” I ask, trying to hide the annoyance in my tone.

“You have a girlfriend?” The woman on the other side hissed. “You’re such a fucking pathetic man.”

I was taken aback by her reaction, where did she get the nerve to trat me like this? After all, she was nothing more than my toy. A toy I used to pass the time, but she didn’t let me answer her, her angry rant going on. “You’re a horrible, horrible man, if I had known you had a girl waiting for you, I would’ve never let you touch me.” She continued. “Lose the number, you fucking asshole.”

She hung up on me. The fucking bitch had the audacity to hang up on me? I scoffed. I didn’t need a stupid fucking toy anyway. I had you to come back to. After all, you always came back to me, no matter how much I fucked up.

I sat down on the couch, my fingers lingering over the screen of my phone. Fuck it.

“When are you coming home?” I texted you.

5 minutes. Five whole minutes had passed and you still didn’t text me back. Usually you’d text me back within seconds, like a fucking needy dog.

“Listen, I’m sorry you feel this way. I can change. I promise” I texted you again.

8 minutes. It had been eight minutes since my first text, and you didn’t hadn’t sent me anything back. It caused me to pace around my living room like a caged animal.

“Please come home, I miss you.” I texted, once more. It started to irritate me that you didn’t answer, but I couldn’t let you know.

14 minutes. The anger was getting to me. What the fuck were you doing? It was 4:28AM. You couldn’t possibly be doing something useful.

“Get your fucking ass home.”

???? POV:

He had known Ghost was a cheater, but he always tried to ignore it. Until he met you. God, you were gorgeous. It pained him that you only had eyes for Ghost. He fell in love with you the first time he met you. The way you walked, talked, your smile. Your beauty was out of this world.

But of course you were in love with Ghost. Ghost was everything he wasn’t. Mysterious, handsome, tall, confident, a deep, hoarse voice. So he hid in the shadows. He wanted you to be happy, even if it wasn’t with him.

But the guilt began to eat at him when Ghost started cheating on you, bringing some blondie back to the base after a mission. Her loud moans filling the empty halls. He couldn’t ignore it anymore after Ghost had brought back the second girl, but he was to afraid to tell you. It took him two more years to finally find the courage to tell you. He couldn’t even do it face to face. No, he texted you, like a coward.

But he had finally told you and that is what mattered.

He started to hate Ghost for this. The idiot had the most precious woman in the world and he tossed it out of the window for a little thrill.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw your text. You’d gone through his phone, and now he had kicked you out?

Damn.

A feeling of guilt washed over him, if he hadn’t told you, you’d be safe and sound in your bed, not wandering the streets at 4 in the morning.

He texted you his address, offering you a place to come to if you were lonely.

Your POV:

You felt alone. So god damn alone. You’d left everything, everyone behind to move in with Simon.

There was nothing you wanted more than to get back to Simon, to feels his strong arms around you again, but you weren’t stupid. You knew those arms would never feel like home again. You knew you’d never trust him again. The common sense in your body told you, you were worth too much to worry about him, but the love you felt for him tried to prove your common sense wrong, still. You could change for him, right? You could try to be less boring, to be less predictable.

A nearby bench in the park became your new place to stay, just so you could gather your thoughts. The bag you’d been carrying with you got dropped on the ground. A big sigh followed. How does one even go from here? Back to Simon was not an option, you refused to be his second choice.

Your phone buzzed. It was Simon, asking you when you would come home. Your heart skipped a beat. He still cared about you. Of course he did, otherwise he wouldn’t be texting you! You’re trying to convince yourself, but it’s not working. Something is different. For once, your love ending didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

You fidget with your phone, ignoring the messages that come rolling in. You pressed the phone against your lips, your mind working overtime. What was it that you wanted?

After what seemed like forever you make a decision. You don’t want to be alone, not right now, so you decide to text him. Not Simon, no, he wasn’t worthy of your presence. You text the person who tipped you, after all, he had always told you he would be there for you if you needed him. It takes every ounce of your selfcontrol to not text him the whole story, so you give him a short update. 3,5 minutes. That’s how long it took for him to answer you. It’s just his address, and you take it as an invite that you’re welcome. As you open the navigation on your phone, it shows you that it is just a ten minute walk. Perfect for you to clear your head, so you wouldn’t be all in your feelings when you got to him.

It's 5:25 AM and the sun is starting to rise again. For a moment the world doesn’t seem so bad after all.

Your hands shake as you ring the doorbell. The door swings open almost immediately.

Johnny.

Ghost POV:

I was starting to lose it. You’d come online, but you didn’t read my texts? How dare you? Where the fuck do you think you have the audacity from to ignore me?

I texted you again.

“At least have some fucking respect and answer me.”

An uneasy feeling starts to linger in my stomach, causing me to pace around the living room. What if you really did decide to leave this time? No, you wouldn’t. I was sure of that. But then why didn’t you answer me?

No it shouldn’t bother me this much. I can just go to the bar and pick up a better version of you, a prettier one, a more adventurous one. Then you did the thought of you leaving me sting so much?

I lose my temper, and an empty teacup flings across the room, against the wall. The brown liquid dripping down.

A few deep breaths and I should be okay again. Wrong.

The uneasy feeling in my chest stays and there is nothing that I can do against it. Why would you do this to me? Why did you have to make things so hard? Why couldn’t you just come home when I asked you to?

God, you’re being a pain in my ass right now. Making such a fuss, and for what? Because I had a little fun? That was your fault really, you had always been a little boring, why couldn’t you just be a little spicier in life.

And now your behaviour is making me feel bad? I don’t think so. I sent you a final text.

“You’re gonna get it when you get home.”

Soap POV:

He was waiting in the living room for her, nearly falling over his own feet as he made his way to the front door. The sight of you standing there, with your broken heart is the hardest thing he had to watch.

‘Even in her agony, God is jealous of her beauty.’ Soap pushed that thought away, he wasn’t here to hit on you, he was here to be the friend you needed. He stepped aside to let you in. “It’s not much, but it’s safe.” He said, gesturing around his living room. It was clear a single man lived here, the pizza box from last night still on the table, his dirty socks and shoes next to the couch. A sheepish smile on his face, hoping that you wouldn’t judge him too much.

He was mesmerized by your eyes, but he could see the sadness, the hurt in them, and it made his heart ache.

He signalled for you to sit on the couch, handing you a beer, his own in his hand, as he took place in his recliner, wanting to keep a distance. There was a silence between the two of you, but to him it didn’t feel awkward at all. It felt like coming safe home after a long, stressful day.

He glanced over at you. You looked so fragile on his couch, a large pillow being used as a shield, as your gaze met his. A nervous smile.

Your phone buzzed, and he could see it was from Ghost, his eyes narrowing as he read the text. “At least have some fucking respect and answer me.”

But you were strong and you didn’t pay any mind to his text, you tossed the phone next to you and met his gaze once more.

Then the words started to pour out, and you told him everything. How you couldn’t believe it at first, how you finally started to connect the dots. How Ghost dared to come home smelling like another woman, the video you had watched. He took an occasional sip from his beer every now and then.

With every full sentence he could see your mind working overtime, telling you to not go back to that relationship anymore. It made his heart beat faster in his chest.

As if it’s natural the conversation shifts to a lighter one, as if you want to leave Ghost and the darkness that he brings with him in the past, and Soap was happy to oblige.

You tell him about your job, your hobbies, your favourite crystals and he takes in all the information as if it is the most important thing he has ever heard.

Your phone buzzed again and the both of you look at it at the same time.

“You’re gonna get it when you get home.”

Those words made Soap’s stomach drop, he had always known that Ghost had a temper, a bad one, but even this felt low for Ghost. He looked over at you, expecting to see fear in your face, but instead you just laughed. As if you were freed from the chackles Ghost had put on you.

“Shit.” Your voice sounded like giggle. “I should really put him in his place for speaking to me in this tone.”

‘God, her laugh could light up a room without trying.’

No stop, he shouldn’t think like that.

Maybe it was the beer talking, maybe it was the lack of common sense from the whole situation, but he had an idea. An idea that would put Ghost in his place.

“Come with me.” Soap told you, as he made him way to his bedroom. It was surprisingly tidy compared to his living room. Sure, the bed wasn’t made, and his backpack was casually tossed into the corner, and now that he looked around, his nightstand were a mess too. But the dirty socks were limited to the bathroom only and that was something.

“I need you to trust me, I’m not a pervert, I promise.” Soap was rambling, a treat he had when he got nervous. He swallowed some air before he started explaining. “I need you to get on my bed on all fours, I promise I won’t look okay.” The rambling continued.

You didn’t even question it, you just did what he asked you to do. He took a step closer to your ass, his breathing getting hard to control. “Look at the wall.” He muttered. The shadow being rather, suggestive.

‘Life was an artist and you were the fucking masterpiece.’

He couldn’t help but look down at you, the sight of you presenting yourself like this, God it got him hard, the blood going straight to his growing erection. He dug his nails into the palm of his hand, he had to contain himself.

You handed him your phone, allowing him to take a picture. If he didn’t know any better the shadow suggested he was actually fucking you. The thought of how tight you would be, how good you would take it, it was flooding his mind. Shit shit shit. He needed to stop.

He handed you your phone back, stepping aside, it would drive him insane if he kept looking at your ass.

Soap looked over your shoulder as you sent Ghost the picture. A grin on your face when you started to type.

‘Sorry, I was busy.’

Ghost POV:

It has been more than a fucking hour since I’ve sent my last text, and yet you lack the fucking respect to answer me. You’re a fucking worthless waste of air.

I look over at the table when my phone buzzed. “Sorry, I was busy?” I repeat your text to myself. My fingers are quick to open the picture you sent me.

My phone buzzed. A text from you.

No, no, no, no, NO.

I could feel my stomach drop from that picture. You’re a fucking disgusting slut and you know it. How the fuck dare you? After all we’ve been together you’re throwing us away like this? How fucking dare you?

My anger gets the best of me. I want you to be hurt. I want to take away the things you like. I want to see you cry, beg me for the mercy you don’t deserve.

In a blind rage I pull out the cutlery drawer in the kitchen, I was looking for some scissors but couldn’t find them, so I took our kitchen knife. The fucking stuffed animal I had won for you at the fair was the first to go. God it felt so good to take my anger out on something. Besides, who the fuck has a stuffed unicorn?

The rest of your clothes became my second target, a maniacal laugh leaving my throat as I could hear the fabric rip under the force of my knife. Shit it felt good, too good even. For a second I would imagine you there instead of your clothes and the rage would leave my body, but it’s temporary, I want to destroy you.

If I can’t have you, no one should have you.

My hands tremble when I look at the picture again. My eyes widen when I recognize the room, I recognize his fucking backpack, the idiotic sunglasses on his fucking nightstand.

God fucking damn.

My best fucking friend. The fucking son of a bitch.

Where the fuck did the two of you get the fucking nerve to betray me like this?

Granted, Soap had been more distance towards me since I’ve started to cheat on you, but he never had a problem with it during my last relationship. This must’ve been his idea. Letting you catch me cheating, so I’m the bad guy, while you’re getting your pussy pounded by that fucking traitor.

I’m angry, furious even. Part of me wants to take the knife and stab the both of you, watching as the life leaves your eyes. I can feel the rage boil inside of me.

A sudden wave of relief washes over me. I know what I have to do.

I leave the knife in our matrass, I don’t even grab my jacket. I know the way to his house, it’s a short walk and I know what I’ll find when I get there. You all loveydovey in his arms, as the goddamn slut that you are.

The walk there pisses me off even more, it gives me the time to think about you, about that fucking traitor of a man I used to call a friend.

My fists bang on the door. “Soap! I know you’re in there with this filthy whore.” My voice is a mere bark.

“Be a fucking man and face me.”

Your POV:

You had nearly forgotten about Simon. Not really obviously, you knew you still had to face him one day. Half of your belongings were still at that house. But for now, for now you could forget him. Soap’s bedroom was filled with laughter, you had more in common than you thought, memories, hobbies, even the same dishes you liked.

Although he liked olives, and the mere thought of them was enough to make you shudder.

Soap was in the middle of a story about Captain Price, something about his hidden porn stash when three loud bangs made the both of you quiet. It was unmistaken who’s voice it was. It felt as if a hand had reached out to your throat, squeezing it shit. Your eyes pleaded to Soap, begging him to stay in his bedroom with you. Surely Simon would leave, right? Right?

The banging got louder, more violent, his profanities carrying out over the street. All you wanted was for the ground to break open and swallow you whole.

“I have to face him.”

“What? No Johnny that’s ridiculous.”

“He won’t leave, I can just explain what happened. I’ll tell him you don’t want to see him.”

“But he sounds dangerous.”

“I’ve known him for years, lass. I’ll be fine.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

You couldn’t ignore the knot in your stomach, the horrible feeling as if something was bound to happen, Soap had closed the door behind him, as if he wanted to shield you from what was about to happen. You hid away in the corner, your knees brought up to your chest, as if you wanted to make yourself as tiny as possible.

You could hear the door open. Soap’s voice was the first to be heard. “Hey man, I know this looks ba-“ His sentence got cut short.

Something was happening, but you couldn’t make out what it was. The closed door muffled the sounds to much.

Yet the sounds of a person falling was clear to you. A man begging another man to stop, the faint sound of fists hitting their target.

Your bag.

It was still on the couch, you knew it was there, all you could do was to pray that Simon didn’t find it.

Your mind was racing, where had you put your phone? You knew it was in this room, somewhere, you had used it to text him that picture.

Oh god, why did you do that?

This was all happening because you just had to be petty. Johnny was getting murdered and you were having a pity party. Selfish bitch.

You had to find that fucking phone. Call someone. Call the police even.

But you were too scared. Afraid that if you were to move, Simon would hear you and come for you.

The sounds of footsteps on the stairs snapped you out of it. You wanted it to be Soap, you really did, but you knew it was Simon. “I know you’re in there you fucking filthy slut!”

You pressed yourself against the wall, hoping that you could blend in, maybe disappear while you’re at it.

The bedroom door swings open, and the man before you is no longer the man you once loved. His eyes are wide, his nostrils flared, a predator looking at his prey.

You can hear the soft groans coming from downstairs. You want to escape, you want to leave, but your body betrays you.

“Simon, I, I, I.” You start to stutter. His hands grab a handful of hair, forcing you to look up at him.

“You really thought you were smart, huh?” He hisses through his gritted teeth. He lets go of your hair, and for a second you think you can breathe. That was a mistake.

His right fist hits you, then his left, right, left, right, left, right. Until you start to lose count.

You hold up your arms to defend yourself, but it’s useless. He is trained to do this, and you’re his target.

You start to beg him, beg him for your life, but you can tell he is enjoying this, your tears, the fear in your eyes, it is nothing but fuel to his anger.

His hands grab your hair again, dragging you towards the bed. You’re too stunned, too terrified to even react.

The sound of his zipper going down makes your eye widen in fear. “I’ll show you who the fuck you belong to.” He hisses at you.

It is Soap who stumbles into the room that make the both of you look up. God. He looks horrible, he looks as if he was dragged through hell and back. The pain is visible in his eyes, the blood on his face, the red marks on his body.

A broken promise.

Ghost let’s out an annoyed grunt. “I’ll take care of our little problem.” He whispers into your ear. His voice, the tone, the words, it sends shivers down your spine. The sound of his zipper going back up is a blessing and a curse.

You’re safe, for now.

You can only watch in horror when you can see Ghost make his way over to Soap. You want to react. Your mind is screaming at you to do something. But your body can’t.

It seemed as if time was slowing down. The sunset slowing illuminating the room you’re in. The tension in the thick air. It looks like a horrible nightmare, one you wish to wake up from.

You’re held captive by your own body and mind. No control over what you’re thinking or doing, it makes you feel helpless.

Deep breaths, deep breaths, deep breaths. Snap out of that freeze response, no more freezing. You need to fight or you need to get out. Go. Go. Go.

Your body handles on it’s own, despite the pain you’re in, you manage to get up, stumbling over your own feet.

Get out or fight.

It’s the gunshot that follows next, that puts you into freeze again.

Your POV:

Ghost looked at his hands, he was visibly confused by the blood on them. His blood?

Your hands are shaking, your mind goes back to a date you and Ghost went on 2,5 years ago.

It was a sunny day, and he was so excited to take you there. He had been talking about it for a few weeks and you finally decided to give in.

Who would have thought a silly little date to a shooting range would save your life one day?

Not you, not Ghost.

You had spotted the gun in Soap’s backpack, the will to survive took over, your body snapping out of your freeze mode before your mind was able to.

“That’s a good lass.” A Scottish accent broke the silence.

Ghost dropped to his knees, his hands pressing on the gunshot wound. So much was happening at once, yet you tried to take control over the situation once again. Your hands tremble as you load another bullet into the chamber.

“Stay down or I’ll fucking shoot again.” Oh how you try to be confident, but the words are a mere whisper as the tears start to roll down your cheek. You try not to choke on your shallow breaths.

The tension in the air is horrible. You can tell Soap is holding on for dear life, not knowing how to continue. You can tell that Ghost is defeated, as if the shot held a mirror in front of him, he was no better than his father and he knew it.

And you, standing there. Holding on to that pistol for dear life, your knuckles white from the tight grip.

A few loud bangs, a loud voice, a small army of police men joining you in the room, the rest of the day a blur.

You didn’t exactly look innocent, holding a loaded weapon, pointing it to an already wounded man.

And God, for the first time you felt lucky. You could show the texts he had sent you, the way he had torn up the place you used to call home, you had only shot him once, and it was a non-lethal shot.. It all ruled in your favour, the judges ruled it self-defence.

Ghost on the other hand didn’t get as lucky, all the evidence pointed in his direction, even after you’d shot him.

Although the sentence he got was a joke.

Sixty days.

He would spent two months in jail for traumatizing you, for harming you, for destroying what belonged to you, for harming Soap, for making your home feel unsafe.

Just sixty days.

But, for sixty whole days you felt safe. You knew he wouldn’t be lurking around the corner, you knew that for sixty whole days you could breathe again.

Ghost POV:

I lost it all. And for what? For a little toy, for a little smile, for a little weak moment. Sixty goddamn days of my life.

It wasn’t even worth it. It made me lose the job I worked so hard for. Price didn’t want to hear shit after I got my sentence. I tried to explain how it wasn’t really my fault. After all, you and Soap had planned this. No matter how innocent you tried to act in court. I knew what had happened.

I really tried to live with my anger. I had to go to therapy, but that was a waste of my fucking time. I have one little outburst and all of the sudden I am the problem?

I had to sell the house, because of you. Everything reminded me of you, at night I thought I saw you stand in the doorway, I swear I could hear your footsteps, your laugh, your voice. But you were never there. It haunted me, you know that? So I sold it, bought another house. Tried to forget about you. The money I had made during my time in the military, it lasted me a long time. I didn’t have to work, no I could drown my sorrows in liquor and hookers. The funny thing was, money doesn’t last, just like we didn’t.

And I really tried. I tried to get new jobs, but they would never last. God, people are morons and I just cannot deal with them. Do you know how hard it is to keep your house when you’re not able to keep a goddamn job? And furthermore, do you know how hard it is to keep a relationship when you’re not able to hold a job, when the bills are stacking up?

God, and even if I could hold a job, I’m not able to keep a relationship, I keep searching for a piece of you. Even when they’re a perfect match, they’re still not you.

I hate myself for letting you go, I crave how predictable you were, I crave your touch, your voice, you.

Yet at the same time, I am so angry at you for taking everything from me. I deserve better than this. You took everything I worked so hard for.

The anger is tucked away, for now. It reappears whenever I hit the bottle. Everything I’ve been holding in comes out then. It’s not a pretty sight when I get my shit together again, it makes me feel ashamed.

Your little action has made me unable to look into the mirror. I see my fathers eyes whenever my eyes linger to long on the man I see in the mirror. I became what I hated the most and I can only blame you for it.

I even tried to make up with the last woman, the one you found the video of. I went to her house, tried to explain myself. I even apologised for calling her my toy. She had the audacity to laugh at me. She told me to fuck right off. Hell, she even pulled her girlfriend to her side when I asked for a second chance. It left me broken. Not even my back up wanted me anymore.

Lately I’ve been wandering the streets, as a soul without a purpose. I avoid the large windows, I cannot stand to see my reflection in them, the shell of the man I was supposed to be. I had such a good life ahead of me, but it was all ruined. My days are filled with sorrow and time is slipping through my fingers.

It is a good day, a beautiful day, so I decide to go to the park, maybe it would ease my mind, before I would go home and get drunk again. I wander around in the park, aimlessly, the sun on my skin is a nice feeling, it beats the feeling of feeling sorry for myself.

My heart skips a beat when I see you. You’re standing close to the water, and I can’t tell what you’re saying to the man in front of you, but you look happy. The clothes you’re wearing fit your body perfectly, and truth be told, you look better than you’ve ever looked before.

God I miss you. I miss you so goddamn much. I start to make my way over to you, I want to talk to you, maybe there is a new chance for us to be together. The guy you’re with can suck it, I can show you what you deserve.

My blood runs cold when I see the man in front of you go down on one knee.

No.

Your POV:

You never stepped foot into that house again, you tried, but the tea stained wall was enough for you to back down. All your belongings you had left behind were things you could replace.

But that wasn’t your biggest worry. Soap had risked his life for you, and for what? Because you needed to prove a point to Simon? You felt so, so, so goddamn guilty. Luckly for the both of you, Soap ‘only’ had two broken ribs, a black eye and a few other bruises. You both knew it could have ended different.

Soap was a kind soul, and you knew it. He offered you a place to stay when you couldn’t go back to the place you once called home. He insisted on taking the couch, even with his injuries. He insisted that you were the one who deserved to sleep in his bed after everything you had been through.

In return you made him breakfast every day. The man was a sucker for fresh pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, maple syrup. All of them together, or just one of those things. It didn’t matter to him, as long as it was something you had cooked, this man was content.

What started as just breakfast, quickly became dinner too, lunch followed shortly after. Although Soap slept on the couch, he wouldn’t hesitate to come running up the stairs when he could hear you having a nightmare, eventually you’d start having flashbacks of that morning. The events repeating themselves in your mind time after time, leaving you frozen in place.

Soap was there for you, no questions asked. He was on medical leave anyway, and he wanted to care for you, protect you. He would always be there when the nightmares or flashbacks started. Holding you, grounding you, bringing you back into reality every time.

After one particular flashback the two of you stayed on the couch, even though it was late at night. You didn’t dare to go to sleep, worried that the nightmares would keep you up again, and Soap wasn’t going to let you out of his sight.

The next thing you knew was that you woke up with him in your arms. His head resting on your shoulder as you held him tight. The best part of it all? It never felt awkward. When he finally woke up he had a boyish grin on his face.

“Best night of sleep I’ve had in a while.” He told you, before he gave you some space again. “How about I make you some pancakes this time?”

You had always thought that Ghost made you feel at home, but Soap.. Holy shit, Soap was something else. When the night fell that day and it was time to go to bed you held your hand out to him, he didn’t have to sleep on the couch anymore. Not if it was up to you anyway.

You could tell he was hesitant to take your hand. “I want you to, no, I need you to know you don’t have to do this to pay me back in any way, shape or form.” He began. You shushed him. This wasn’t about paying him back, this was about the feeling that had began to grow inside your heart.

He responded with a simple kiss on your nose. A token of appreciation.

It was the start of something beautiful, Soap was so much kinder than Ghost had ever been to you. Because it was Soap who woke you up with a thousand and one kisses on every inch of skin he could get his hands on, it was Soap who made sure you were always comfortable, no matter where you were or what you were doing. It was Soap who made sure you would at least get a text every day when he was on a mission, it was Soap who hid little love notes around the house when he was away.

Soap brought you stones from the missions he had been on, always proudly telling you how he picked the prettiest rocks, just for you. Even when he was away on missions, he always made sure you never, ever felt lonely.

He had just come home after he went to a little bakery to get you both breakfast, so you could sleep in.

“I saw some ducklings in the park when I walked back.” He told you, before he took a bite of his croissant.

“Really?” Your voice is filled with excitement. “Can we check them out after breakfast?”

“Only if I get a kiss first.”

“Deal!”

“Ah shoot, I should’ve asked for more.” The Scot pouted while he stole your last piece of pastry.

“Hey! That was mine.”

“Sorry lass, boyfriend tax.” He grinned as he swallowed the stolen bite.

“Now.” A devilish grin formed on his lips. “You still owe me a kiss.”

A laugh escapes your lips before he kisses you, his strong arms wrapped around you, as your hands rest on his waist. “That was worth all the ducklings in the world.” He whispers to you as he presses a quick kiss on your forehead.

“Come little lass, before those ducklings are fully grown ducks.”

He doesn’t let go off your hand for the whole walk to the park, the two of you walk in silence, and it’s nice. His presence is enough for you, and you are enough for him.

You look around the little pond to see a glimpse of the promised ducklings, but they are nowhere to be seen. You have your back turned to him, as your eyes scan the area.

“They’re gone.” Your voice sounds disappointed. “Well damn it, I want that kiss back Jo-“ Your breath hitches in your throat when you turn around to face him.

There he is, on one knee in front of you, a little black box in his hand.

“Will you make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?”

394 notes · View notes

melancholymetropolis · 1 year

Text

PillowTalk

plot: A normal breakfast takes a steamy turn.

pairings: Aizawa Shota x Pregnant!Reader

genre(s): Marriage of Convenience AU; Shameless Smut

warnings: MUTUAL PINING. former boss/assistant. mansion in the middle of the woods. stay-at-home wife (kinda). CEO husband. ROLEPLAY. reader is a book nerd. chasing. lowkey beauty & the beast au. toxic ex. library sex. PIV SEX. rough. table top. mentions of voyeurism + masturbation. pet names (princess, little wife, beast, prince charming etc) light breeding. teasing. Aizawa is a simp for his wife. y/n is a dirty -talker. BOTH OF THEM ARE REALLY HORNY FOR EACH OTHER

w.c: 4.4k

Aizawa Shota lowered the newspaper from his view and lifted the coffee cup to his lips. He took a hefty gulp of the cool drink and I felt myself squirm in my seat.

My kinda-husband was simply too hot for words and I was beginning to lose my mind. His dark hair was pulled into a messy bun at the back of his head, but a few (selective) strands framed his face. He decided to grow out his facial hair a bit, sporting a deviously dark five o’clock shadow. The white dress shirt framing his chest was seconds away from breaking at any sudden movements. The black suit he wore was tailored to his body perfectly— framing his butt and thighs gorgeously. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones or the lack of pleasure I had acquired in recent months— I wanted him. I wanted him badly.

I wanted my fake husband to toss me to the table and devour me, just like how he did our breakfast.

I wanted him to mount me like the sexual beast I knew he was and pound me into the table.

I wanted him to ruin other—

“How are things?” He asked, snapping me out of my reverie.

“Uh. . . what things?” I asked absentmindedly.

His black eyes flicked onto my face, taking in my flushed expression. “Are you hot? Do you want me to turn down the thermostat?”

Oh, I am hot. Hot and ready for you to slurp me like—

“N-No,” I stammered, bringing my iced tea to my lips. I took a slow sip before setting the glass back on the table. “And everything is fine! The doctor said my blood pressure and cortisol levels were not as high as before and were leaning toward normal. She also told me to start drinking okra water and to work on my breathing, since I reaching the end of my trimester.”

Aizawa nodded. “Seems to be all good news. I am happy to hear it.”

“Well, there is only good news because of you and your support,” I said sheepishly.

The statement was very true, if it weren’t for Aizawa I probably would’ve been dead by now. That was not an exaggeration whatsoever.

We didn't marry for love, nor was this union arranged. It was a simple matter of convenience. I was his secretary and he was the CEO of the company. I was already engaged to another man prior, but he left me mere weeks after I had fallen pregnant. My fiance cleared our joint account and fled the country. Leaving me with nothing. I was forced to consider going back to the united states and sleeping in my childhood bedroom with a newborn.

Aizawa, out of the blue, presented the possibility of a marriage between us. He would pay for everything. The medical bills, food, car payments, baby supplies— all I had to do was manage the house staff: sign off on repairs, oversee their daily tasks, and inform him of anything out of the ordinary. He was basically paying me to be a housewife, without the strenuous duties of cooking, cleaning, and tending to the kids. Plus, Aizawa suggested I get a night nanny so I could rest a little better.

The deal sounded a little too good to be true. But, given the two years we spent working together, I knew he was trustworthy. I took the leap and ended up living an absolute fairytale life for the past 5 months. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Although, deep down, I wished we explored a little past our new normal.

Maybe even find ourselves entangled in the sheets and trying out all kinds of positions.

I’m pretty sure I can still get my leg over my head if I really tried. Giving him enough room to dig deep in me and rearrange my guts.

"You don't have to thank me every chance you get," a small smile stole his face. "In fact, I should be thanking you."

"Oh really?"

The smile widened and the brunette adjusted his position in the chair. His arms crossed against his broad chest and the buttons strained from the action. The muscles in his forearms flexed underneath his rolled-up sleeves. His biceps bulged a little against the cotton fabric. The longer I looked at him the wetter I felt the seat of my panties become. If he kept being so absentmindedly attractive, I would soon find myself sprayed out on my bed, fingers probing my slick walls, wishing he were on top of me.

Damn, I have it bad.

“Y/N!” Aizawa said in a raised voice.

I blinked several times and cleared my throat. “Y-Yes?”

“Are you sure you okay?” He asked, leaning forward.

“Yeah! It’s just the. . . hormones!” I blustered. “You know, all those raging, sweaty hormones that make it hard for me to focus.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are sure it's only the hormones? And not some other factor?”

“Uh. . .” I stammered.

Aizawa, suddenly, rose from his seat and walked around the round table. His eyes never left my face and a smirk was forming on his lips. He appeared next to me in an instant. He pressed one hand on the table and another on the back of my chair. Aizawa leaned forward until our faces were mere inches apart.

“I heard you the other night,” he stated, a certain hunger in his eyes.

“What are you talking about?” I gulped.

“You cried out for me,” he said, plainly. “Begging me to. . . how did you say it? Oh! ‘Split you apart with my thick dick’.”

The realization hit me like a sledgehammer. It had been the night he had come back from a run around the block. He was shirtless and the shorts were low on his hips. His sculpted v-line was on full display, along with his sensual muscles. He was breathing so heavily, panting and mewling from the strenuous exercise. He claimed to have “overdid” it this time. He ran at full speed for the last few blocks and all the way up our long driveway. His long hair was, again, pulled into a messy bun, highlighting his sharp jaw and rugged features.

He looked so hot. So fuckable. I wanted to mount him like the stallion he was and ride him into the sunset.

". . . Oh," I murmured, turning away from him.

"'Oh' is right," he chuckled. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop but you were so loud and luscious that I couldn't help myself." Aizawa leaned forward, his lips brushing against my earlobe. "And saw you too. Your door was cracked open just for me to see."

Shivers ran down my spine and my womanhood throbbed. His hot breath was caressing my ear, whilst his mouth did the same. His body was so close, yet he wasn't laying a finger on me. The temptation was swiftly sending me over the edge. I hated the slow, seductive game he was playing. I knew the ending would not be in my favor. He wasn't the type of man to spread me open like a Thanksgiving feast, nor was he the type to treat me like an animal. He wanted me begging, weeping for his touch. Despite the rather x-rated thoughts running through my mind at the moment, I couldn’t allow myself to succumb to his game so easily.

“Who knew you were such a little perv,” I giggled, lifting my mug to my lips. I took a small sip of the hot tea and hummed sweetly. “But, I guess, if I was holed up in my office for 40+ hours a week I’d be a little… frustrated as well.”

His fingertips brushed against my arms, tickling me the same way a feather would. “You are playing with fire, little wife.” Aizawa groaned and gripped the back of my chair. “Ever since that faithful night, I have not been able to think straight. Seeing your legs shake and your toes curl, while you work yourself with that sparkly pink toy—” He sucked in a breath and released the back of my chair. He pushed his body away from mine.

Immediately, I rise to my feet and turn to face him. The brunette placed a significant distance between the both of us. His breath was labored and his hand was balled at his side. There was an oblong shape intensely prominent near the zipper of his slacks. The member was only semi-hard and I could already tell that was quite massive. Probably bigger that the sparkly pink dildo I had in my nightstand, certainly thicker that the toy as well.

My assumption was right.

He did have a long, thick dick.

“I like to think myself a patient man,” he started. “A respectable man. I tried my best to keep my distance from you and to give you all the space you need to grow. To heal from whatever happened before our union. I never wanted to force myself or my desires onto you. I never wanted you to think you owed me anything because we were simply married and living together." Aizawa’s brown eyes bore into mine, just as the morning light gracefully captured his face. It gave him an ethereal glow. Made him look even more beautiful that he already was. “I promised myself that I would not touch you or make any advances toward you until I have obtained your explicit consent. However, being near you, feeling your luxurious presence and capturing your delicious scent, while trying not to press my mouth against that gummy pussy is pure agony. ”

Aizawa was so eloquent with how he spoke, sounding like a pure gentleman. Up until that last bit.

“So, from what you’re saying,” I said, tilting my head to the side a little bit. “The beloved prince charming I married 5 months ago is gone? And he was preplaced by a horny, insatiable beast?”

A smirk pulled at his lips. “That’s not exactly true, princess. Charming was always a beast, at least during the night. It took a very special lady to set him straight by morning.”

I hummed once more and pulled my braids into a messy bun. I hiked up my dress and gave him a smile. “Where is the closest soundproof room in the house?”

“A few doors down,” he replied. “It’s the library.”

I took off in a swift jog toward the room, turning my head back to say “You can’t catch me, you fearsome beast.”

His laughter was explosive. “Are we roleplaying, princess?” Aizawa shouted after me.

I was already halfway down the hall, the double doors of the library were swiftly approaching. “Only if you want to,” I shouted back.

“You cannot hide from me, young damsel!” He boasted, as heavily footsteps came stomping my way. “I will capture you one way or another!”

I giggled at the sound of his “beastly” voice and proceeded to quicken my pace. “Please do not harm me, furocious beast. For I am innocent in this matter.”

I have no idea what possessed me to put on this whole act. Maybe I was watching too much Bridgerton or reading entirely too much erotica, but the idea of being chased by a massive man, just to be savagely fucked in the library was exhilarating. The book nerd in me was jumping with joy.

I pushed through the library doors and sped over to the nearest flat surface. A wide table with several wooden chairs surrounding it. I shoved the chairs aside and hopped right on the table. Anticipation ran through my veins. The big, hulking man burst through the room with a loud grunt. The smile on his face was undeniable. My little charade had done its job perfectly: it had taken us out of earshot of the bustling maids in the house and eased the thick tension between us. Aizawa’s playful mood was igniting something within me. Something I didn’t recognize. It had been a while since I had seen him actually enjoy himself. His smile was so wide and genuine that I thought he was a different person.

Not the stressed-out, sleep-deprived spouse that I often avoided.

But the bubbly, fun husband that I always wanted.

His immediate acceptance and active participation in my game showed me that there was a chance. A chance for us to have a real, authentic marriage. A union where we love and cherish each other. One where I didn't have to question whether or not he felt the same way.

“Sweet, delicate princess,” Aizawa groaned, inching close to me. “Please allow me the opportunity to voice my desires without prejudice or ridicule.”

I looked away from his face for a moment and tapped my chin. “Fine, you may.”

“I want you. In every way possible,” he confessed, closing the distance between us. “I have wanted you from the sheer moment you opened your heart to me. From the moment you started staying up a little late to have dinner with me, or when you made it a point to pack me lunch on a particularly long day. When you made Sunday nights my favorite time of the week and got me addicted to Outlander.”

“Since when were you into Outlander?” I asked in disbelief,

“Since you started screaming at the TV, cursing out Sir Jack Randal,” Aizawa chuckled. “I never heard you use so many curses in a single sentence.”

“I still can’t believe he did that to Jamie,” I grimaced.

Aizawa nodded in agreement but carried on with his statement. “You have been the object of my desires and the capturer of my heart for months now. I go to sleep dreaming of your big brown eyes and beautiful smile. I hear your sweet voice in my mind all day long and wish I could spend every moment with you.”

I reached out to grab his hands, which he gladly handed to me. I brought them to my thighs and allowed them to hike up my skirt. The beige fabric lifted from its place at my ankles and exposed the bronze skin underneath. Aizawa settled at the small space between my thighs and gently placed his hands at my sides. His brown eyes bore into mine. The older man looked at me like I was the only woman in the world. Like nothing else mattered but us at this exact moment. His gaze was so pure I could almost cry on the spot.

I hooked my arms around his neck and started to lean closer to him. My eyes fluttered closed and my lips slightly parted. He captured my mouth moments later and his arms swiftly wrapped around my plum form. Aizawa moaned against my lips as if marveling at the sensation. His mouth danced across mine gracefully, following my lead and patiently waiting for the next step.

My hands were in his hair and my thighs rested against his hips. I gently rolled my damn center over his semi-hard front. The lust was quickly growing the long he kissed me and soon I wouldn't be able to contain it. The confession had provided me with all the information I needed— our feelings were mutual. He wanted to give this fake marriage some authenticity and turn it into a real one. I was beyond excited.

I tore my lips away from his searing embrace and whimpered as he dragged a tongue along the side of my neck.

"Take me," I gasped, clawing at his back. "Right here. Right now."

The brunette lifted his head from my neck and immediately started fumbling with the buttons on my blouse. Seconds later, he exposed the lacy number underneath and growled at the sight. His skilled fingers undid the finicky clasp in the back, exposing the plump mounds to his eager eyes.

"Your breasts are so full and round," Aizawa groaned.

His thumbs gently ran across the pebbled nipples and a hiss left my lips.

The older male immediately paused his actions. "Did I hurt you, princess?"

A blush flickered on my cheeks as I sheepishly looked away. "No. . . They're just really sensitive."

"Well, I'll try to be more careful with them," he stated, lowering his body until his face was directly staring at the bosoms.

His hot tongue tenderly flicked the right nipple several times before giving it a long seductive lick. Shivers ran down my spine as he kept giving sloppy kisses to the sensitive bud. The seat of my panties was drenched. My arousal practically glued them to my lower lips. My legs were vibrating with anticipation. The hot mouth moved over to the left nipple and I thought I ascended to heaven. Aizawa moaned as he sucked on the breast. He was enjoying the lewd act and it was intriguing to see.

He released the bud and a long string of drool connected the two as he pulled away. He brought his lips to mine and gave me a mind-numbing kiss. His fingers dipped between my thighs as we made out. He pressed two fingers against the wet area and started to rub small circles right at the top of the slit. My poor clit was already throbbing from the foreplay and it seemed to pulse after that action. I moaned against his lips and pulled away. The area was so wet and sensitive that I knew it wouldn't take long to push me over the edge. Especially after he gave my nipples such delicate care.

"What a cute face my little princess is making," he purred, pressing his forehead to mine. "Looks like she wants to cum."

I nodded, keeping direct eye contact with the seductive man. "I do, you beast. I want to cum all over your pretty cock and gorgeous face. Will you let me?"

The older man groaned and removed his hand from my panties. "Coming on my face is just gonna have to wait until our next rendezvous. I'm afraid if I don't slip into that dripping wet pussy I'm gonna burst. And we wouldn't want that, right?"

"We sure wouldn't," I said absentmindedly rubbing my baby bump.

Aizawa smirked before slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt. He threw the cotton garment aside before fiddling with his belt. His eyes never left my face and that seemed to make his actions even hotter. He pulled his pants and boxers down in one swift motion; leaving the thick, long member to spring free.

My eyes widened at the sight. He was certainly bigger than I imagined. Definitely bigger than my ex, who could barely last 5 minutes without busting. Aizawa was indeed a patient man, a kind man. That was the only reason I could gather for why God would bless him with such a beast. Maybe I too was God's favorite, since he allowed me to marry such a good man.

Not only was he fine as hell, tall and rich— his dick was big. I had no doubt I had hit the lottery in the husband department.

"Are you okay, princess?" He asked. "Would you like to take a breather?"

"I breathed enough," I shot back. "Come take these panties off and pound me with your long, thick dick."

Aizawa chuckled and hooked his thumbs under my waistband. He pulled the cotton panties down my plump legs and tossed them to the side. He aligned the head of his cock with my womanhood and just before easing himself in, Aizawa paused and gave me a final look, as if to ask me ‘are you sure?” I nodded immediately and widened my thighs a little bit more. The thick member sunk right into me with little resistance, on account of how wet my womanhood was. Pregnancy amplified all my bodily functions to the hundredth degree, including how soiled my underwear became anytime I saw something that appealed to me. Or, anytime I saw my husband.

The brunette helped me lay flat on my back against the table and adjusted the position of my legs. He hooked my limbs over his forearms and continued to push into me. I gasped when every inch was nestled into my greedy pussy and my eyes fluttered closed. I placed one hand above my head, gripping the edge of the table and the other underneath my belly. I braced myself for impact. Aizawa started off slow, rolling his hips against my pelvis gently. I could feel every inch inside of me. The slow thrusts softly pushed against my sensitive spots, causing me to squirm and wiggle underneath him.

"Can I move a little faster, princess?" He grunted, tilting his hips a little bit.

"Please move faster, beast," I panted, digging my nails into the table. "I cannot take this teasing any longer."

Aizawa took a firm hold of the table and chuckled quietly. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

The older man’s hips gradually began moving faster against mine. At first, my little mewls remained relatively uninterrupted by the change. I pretended to be disinterested in the movements, rolling my eyes and telling him to move faster. To fuck me harder. Informing him that I was displeased by his treatment, Aizawa’s persistent behavior of treating me like a delicate flower was starting to frustrate me. I was a woman above anything else. This pregnancy had almost everyone in my everyday life view me as fragile. Something that could easily be broken with little force and it struck anger in my being. Since my body is sturdy enough to grow an entire human being, I was pretty sure it was strong enough to handle some power thrusts from a man.

“Come on, beast,” I teased, a smile kissing my teeth. “Don’t tell me this is all could do? Some half-hearted pumps and expected me to be satisfied? I thought you were more of a savage than this.”

Without a word, Aizawa started to snap his hips against mine harshly. A good portion of his force was colliding with my body and it made my heart sing. My breath was caught in my throat and my legs started to tremble. I rested my body on my elbows and looked into his dark eyes. He was already looking at my face. The smile on his lips was stirring something within me. Almost like he knew I wouldn’t last long or I couldn’t handle the power of his thrusts. There were two words lingering on his tongue that I was dying to hear him say. Something that would definitely send me over the edge.

The man towering over me tilted his hips once more and a squeal shot out of my mouth. My back fell right back onto the table and I raised both arms above my head to grip the edge. The plush head of the cock was hammering the underside of my cervix, a very sensitive area deep within my cunt. My body started to tremble in response and my breathing became hollow. Pressure started to build in my abdomen and a pool started to form. My walls started to pulse against his massive cock and I couldn’t string together a single thought. My body started to tingle and my mind started to blur. Drool spilled from my lips as my eyes started to roll back.

The orgasm was slow, deep, and damning. My body twisted and contoured into various weird positions as I rode the hot wave. I said my husband’s name like a prayer, chanting it over and over again. I begged him not to stop, to keep going, to take me to heaven. And he did just that. Aizawa kept his hard, sharp pace. He continued to drill that girthy dick into my snatch like he became addicted to the feeling. My body completely succumbed to the pleasure, not wanting to do anything else but relish in it. It wasn’t long before another orgasm began to build and my legs started to tremble all over again.

“Fuck!” I cried, arching my back against the table.

“Come on, princess,” Aizawa cooed. “Give beasty another one. I know you have it in you.”

The older man’s hips started to sputter and twitch, indicating to me that he was next to reach his peak. But, like the respectable man he was, Aizawa continued his sickening pace. Eventually, my eyes gradually opened and I took in the scene before me. A hulking man with rippling muscles and a gorgeous face was looming over me. Drilling his cock in me at a record pace with a smile on his face. He held my legs nice and wide in a seductive ‘v’. He was watching my every expression, movement and taking in my sounds. Aizawa was fully invested in pleasuring my horny, pregnant self and I was grateful. I never wanted this moment to end. I wanted to feel the weight on his body forever. I never wanted to part from him. I needed to be with him as long as humanly possible.

The second orgasm was harder than the last. It tore through me like lightning and forced my toes to curl. My eyes were wide open for this one. I watched Aizawa lean forward and gather me desperately. He held me close and proceeded to rut into my creamy pussy. He pressed his hot mouth to mine while his hips trembled and spasmed. His head fell on my shoulder when the pleasure became too great and he couldn’t hold out any longer. Hot cum shot into my awaiting womb, gradually filling me to the brim. Aizawa’s slow and rhythmic thrusts made the feeling even more sensual. It was as if he was fucking the semen into me, hoping to make me pregnant all over again.

I never thought I’d have a breeding kink, but his actions convinced me otherwise.

Soon, it was nothing but our labored breathing filling the library. Our bodies were still one and his chest was still pressed against mine. My fingers were slowly running through his hair while his arms were tightly wrapped around my back. It seemed like the older gentleman had no intention of letting me, even though we were both sweaty and panting. It made me feel special.

“Is this okay?” He asked, breaking the silence. “Me holding you like this?”

“It’s fine,” I replied with a sigh.

“Okay. Just let me know if I am crushing you or the baby.”

“Alright, Aizawa,” I giggled.

Suddenly, he lifted his head from my shoulder and pressed his forehead against mine.

“That’s not what you’re supposed to call me, princess,” he acknowledged. “I am your husband, not some stranger on the street.”

“Than what am I supposed to call you then?”

He thought for a moment. “I think Shota would be fitting.”

“Shota?”

“And Beast/Charming on special occasions,” he said with a wink.

----------

a/n: there are hints in the story letting you know what kind of fic I'll be posting next. let's see who can guess it before sunday.

Also, a little update, I will be posting FULL SMUT SCENES from this point forward. So get ready for 2k - 4k worth of filth. Good luck going to sleep at night.

Finally, let me know if you would like to be added to my official taglist. I will be alerting you everytime I upload!

bye for now!

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bl00dst41ned · 8 months

Text

*.·:·.✦ baby tears ✦.·:·.*

pairing: trent alexander-arnold x female oc (named her Astrid)

summary: in which having a child can be hard but with the help of someone it may feel better

author's note: @l4vines asked for some fluffy dad Trent so here is my attempt to deliver. also i need to change these headers i despise them now. as usual, not proofread.

warnings: mentions of postpartum anxiety/depression, baby blues (I’ll try to approach the subject as carefully as I can)

word count: 937

The small lamp on the nightstand lightened the wide master bedroom. Light snores resonated from Trent’s mouth as he slept peacefully. At his side sat his longtime girlfriend, Astrid, legs folded with their newborn son, Elijah, lying on them and eating his milk out of his bottle. She looked at his face, beams of light showcasing his lips’ movements. His eyes remained closed as his fingers gesticulated, trying to grip his bottle.

Elijah was born two months ago, after nine long eventful months. Astrid had to be bed-bounded for the last three months of her pregnancy, which left her very frustrated.

After his birth, she felt relieved to be alive and mostly to have a healthy son. Though Astrid tried to give him all the care he needed, it still didn’t feel right. She would feel the urge to cry anytime she interacted with Elijah. Even if she did everything right, she could not stop doubting herself. And now was no different.

Small tears rolled down her cheeks as she watched Elijah eat slowly. The mix of her sniffs and the baby’s whimpers woke Trent up. He slowly moved around on the bed before turning to face his small family. He held a little smile on his face but it soon turned into a frown once he realised his partner crying. Again.

Trent knew this kind of episode happened to her, and they became even more frequent the past week. In a talk with his mom, she taught him about postpartum and how it was not always an easy and happy moment for the woman. After a few researches on his own, Trent feared she would suffer from postpartum depression or something close to it. He didn’t know how to talk to her about it but he could not bear seeing her that way anymore.

“Azzy” He called her by her childhood nickname.

She quickly wiped her cheeks in an attempt to hide her emotions from her boyfriend. He sat up, leaning on the headboard. Since he could not properly hold her, he simply left a kiss on her temple as tears uncontrollably rolled down her face.

“I can’t seem to get over this” Astrid sobbed, her head on his chest and her eyes glued on Elijah’s face. “He deserves so much better and I just don’t know how to give it to him”

“You already do. You handle Elijah with as much care as you can give him, despite doubting yourself. No matter how you feel, you’re always there for him” His words definitely comforted her and soothed an inner wound that desperately needed it. “Elijah trusts you, now you need to trust yourself and know how much of a good mother you are”

“Thank you so much, Trent. Genuinely.” She put the baby bottle away about to place Elijah on her shoulder for him to burp “You don’t know how much it means to me”

“That’s what I’m here for. Get some sleep Az, I got him” He grabbed Elijah out of her hold placing him on his shoulder as Astrid laid back down under the covers, trying to doze off.

A few minutes later, she felt Trent get back into the bed, instantly wrapping his arms around her waist.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

In the following weeks, Trent made sure to be as supportive as he could of Astrid. He made sure to uplift her every day and compliment her so that she felt better not only about her parenting but also about herself. Slowly but surely, she gained more and more confidence as a woman and also as a mother.

“Give me the wipes,” Astrid asked as she lifted Elijah’s lower body up to change him.

Trent did as asked watching her eyebrows knit from her concentration. He observed her movements, and how soft she was whenever she touched him. He also listened to how she talked him through the process even though the newborn did not understand one bit. She was the best mother ever in his eyes, now it was her turn to see it.

Astrid finished dressing Elijah back up before giving him to Trent while she put the products away. She came back to the living room to a cute interaction between the two men of her life: Trent kissing their son’s face repeatedly, earning a smile and what could be a laugh from the newborn.

She joined them on the couch, sitting on her right leg as she smiled, looking at them.

“You’re good?”

She knew he didn’t mean it as of today but in general.

“Yeah, better since that night we talked. And I would not feel that way if it was not for you. You really helped me a lot”

“That’s what I’m here for”

And he meant it. The moment he decided to get into a relationship with her three years ago, he accepted having to deal with anything she went through by her side. Even more, now that they had become a family.

“You’re ready for tomorrow?” He turned to face her but she broke eye contact.

“Not really. But it’s a step at getting better.”

They both decided that it could be good for Astrid to see a therapist, just to let her feelings out and receive some guidance. Trent even offered to go with her but she emphasized wanting these sessions to be for her only, where she was free to vent, with nobody she knew around her.

“You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met, don’t forget it” Trent spoke truthfully, her face blushing from his comment.

“I love you, Azzy”

“I love you too, Trent”

like, repost and suggest (closing on september 1st) (hope you enjoyed it)

masterlist for more

#written by bl00dst41ned #black writer #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold fic #trent alexander arnold fluff #trent alexander arnold imagine #trent alexander arnold x oc #trent alexander fic #trent alexander imagine #trent alexander x oc #football imagine #football fluff #football x oc

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maknaeswrld · 5 months

Text

love is worth the wait | l.mh

wc: 2.4k

genre: best friends to strangers(?) to lovers; idiots to lovers

cw: angst; depression/mentions of having depression; ✨miscommunication✨; roomies are based off my irls and Jun isn’t based off anyone specific; roomies are trying their best; fluff!!; please let me know if I missed anything

part one: when you loved me

You stayed in bed for much longer than you would have liked to admit. Depression had never really been something you struggled with, but it seemed to be the week for new emotions so why not sprinkle in some other things too?

You knew your roommates were ridiculously worried about you, you’d be worried too if any of them just randomly shut down one day over a boy. But between the depression naps and sad cereals and binging romcoms, you knew step by step you’d pick yourself up again.

Part of you wished you could go back to believing you never had been and never would fall in love, but you also knew now that it was bound to happen eventually. Some people don’t fall in love, and that's okay, but no matter how much you fought it, you weren’t one of those people.

Your co-workers at work knew something was wrong. No matter how hard you tried to hide it, your sluggish movements and the dreadful bags under your eyes gave you away.

You were heartbroken. You never thought you’d be one of those girls from high school that learned love and heartbreak in the blink of an eye at the hands of Lee Minho, yet here you were, years later, doing just that.

Jun had tried to reach out to you a few times, but as much as you cared for your friend, you didn’t want the painful reminders of Minho that he always brought with just his presence alone.

You stopped everything Stray Kids related. You couldn’t bring yourself to listen to their music, you turned off their youtube notifications, you’d even taken down your photocards and hid away your Leebit Skzoo. Your life was missing a large part of it without your unwavering devotion to keeping up with the band.

You didn’t want to see him and be reminded of your years of stupidity, or even worse, see him with that girl. Learning you’re in love with someone by seeing them happy with another person isn’t exactly the best way to go about figuring things out, and you knew it’d tear you apart to see him laughing because of her again.

You assumed she was his girlfriend, there had been rumors floating around for months that he was seeing someone.

You came to the conclusion that you didn’t want to ruin anything for him just because it took you this long to realize his childhood crush on you.

All you wanted was to go home and take a nice long shower and maybe a nap. You had a three day weekend and you were planning to milk every second of sleep and relaxation and moping you could out of it, but when you walked into your house, you heard a voice you dreaded laughing in the kitchen with your roommates.

You shouldn’t have been surprised to find Jun in your apartment, he and Lia had been best friends since diapers so of course they still spent time together, but that didn’t make you any happier to see him.

You tried to tiptoe past the kitchen doorway so you could make a mad dash to your bedroom without having to talk to Jun or any of your roommates, but you didn’t succeed.

“Oh, Y/n! Look, Jun came to see you. Have you really been ignoring his texts and calls because you’re moping about Lee Minho?”

Sometimes you had to really stop and ask yourself if Lia was your roommate and best friend or your mother.

“In my defense, I’ve been ignoring everyone.” She shoots you a sharp look and you slump. “I’m sorry. I just thought it’d be too painful to talk to you when pretty much all of our memories together include him.”

Jun’s eyes were soft and understanding as he took in your appearance.

“Why don’t you go take a shower and I’ll fix up something to eat? You look like you could use a home cooked meal.”

“You don’t have to do that, Jun,”

“I want to, and it’s no worry at all.” He gave you a kind smile and gently started pushing you in the direction of your bathroom. “Go on, take as much time as you need.”

You wanted to argue but your stomach growled and your muscles ached, so you gave in and grabbed a change of clothes and your dance team jacket from your room before starting up the water in your bathroom.

A hot shower was definitely what you needed, the warmth soothed you all over and you felt yourself truly relax for the first time in weeks. You ran the water until it was cold before finally getting out and getting dressed. Stepping out of the steamy bathroom, the aroma of a fresh, home cooked meal flooded your senses and your stomach growled.

You slowly made your way back down the hall toward the kitchen. You hesitated to enter when you heard talking.

“He should be here any minute.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Jun? I mean, she’s trying to get over him.”

“Trust me on this one, will ya? You didn’t have to sit through two years of high school with them and then deal with Minho ever since.”

“That’s fair. Eve, hun, you met Y/n in university so you didn’t get a front row seat to the full extent of the no relationships thing. That girl and Min, they were such a disaster in high school.” Lia rolled her eyes.

Before you could really stop to think about what they were saying, there was a knock at your door. You peered into your kitchen to see that they were all too busy talking to have heard it so you made your way to the door yourself.

You didn’t bother to check who it was, swinging the door open with zero hesitation and freezing immediately upon the sight in front of you.

Lee Minho was standing outside your apartment with a sheepish grin and an oreo mcflurry.

You blinked at him twice and then shut the door.

Slowly turning on your heel, you see Eve, Lia, and Jun had finally noticed and were watching from the kitchen. You weren’t sure if you wanted to hug them or smack them.

“Hey! Don’t be rude, you can’t just slam the door in peoples faces!” Eve scolded.

Jun covered her mouth with his hand, not even flinching when she immediately licked it. “Open the door, Y/n. Trust me.”

Taking a deep breath, you turned back around and opened the door again, this time seeing a dejected Minho.

“Hi.”

You weren’t really sure what else to say. It had been so long since you last interacted with him that you felt like that scared new girl looking for a sports credit all over again.

“Hey.” it was a lot more nervous than you were used to.

He seemed to be in a trance, as if he was seeing you for the first time. Raising a brow at him, you held the door open a little wider.

“You gonna come in or what?” His eyes sparkled as he smiled and walked into your apartment. He looked around, not really sure what to do, and then he looked at you again, but this time he really looked at you.

“You’re wearing the jacket.” He whispered in shock.

You blushed and pulled it closer into yourself. “Yeah. I uh, I wear it a lot.”

You crossed your arms self consciously and dropped your gaze to the floor.

The hand holding the mcflurry came into view, and you looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I used to bring you these all the time, don’t you remember?”

You smiled slightly. “Of course I do. Thanks.”

Taking the mcflurry, you shyly brushed by him and headed for the kitchen.

“So, Minho, what are you doing here?” You tried to sound nonchalant, but you knew he knew you better than that, even if you hadn’t seen each other since high school.

He took a deep breath and gently grabbed your arm, pulling you toward him.

“I came for you. I wanted to talk to you before the show the other week but by the time I got out the door you left through, you were gone. I didn’t know you could walk that fast, especially without tripping.” He laughed shyly and rubbed the back of his neck. “I was kinda sad you left without so much as a hello, but Jun said he could get in touch with you so I wasn’t too worried, but then you never picked up. If I did something to upset you, I’m really sorry.”

Your heart melted for him, and you looked at your shoes, suddenly feeling very guilty.

“Sorry about that. I’ve kind of just been going through a lot lately.”

He nodded understandingly and didn’t push it.

Taking a deep breath, he grabbed you by your shoulders and made you look into his eyes.

“Did you find the note?”

You were nodding before you could stop yourself, you had never been able to lie to Lee Minho.

“I found it the day after I ran out.”

His face shifted from nervous to disappointed. “Is that why you stopped coming to my events?”

You froze, taken aback.

He knew you were there?

“If it makes you feel any better, I wrote that in high school, ya know? I thought when you found it, we’d still be by each other's sides. I’m sorry if it freaked you out. I’d take it all back if it meant you go back to attending my events”

His words registered in your head faster than the sentiment behind them did and tears welled up in your eyes. You heard him curse and ask what was wrong, but you were lost in your thoughts.

You were so happy to hear he noticed you, he knew you were at his events and he noticed when you stopped coming, but then he told you he wishes he never wrote the letter that made you realize everything in the first place. It was all too much to handle in your fragile state.

He gently cupped your cheeks and wiped away your tears.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?”

You stared up into his gorgeous brown eyes and wished you could stay drowning in them forever.

You had to distance yourself. He regretted the letter, he has a girlfriend, he only saw you as a friend.

Shoving him away from you, your heart ached at the gap between you and the sudden loss of contact.

“Why are you here?” You hated that your voice cracked, that your emotions were so close to the surface.

“What do you mean, Y/n/n, I’m-”

“Don't call me that! Please, don’t call me that.”

It was taking everything in you not to run and lock yourself in your room. His presence was too much for you to handle.

He just scoffed, brows furrowed. “Well then what do you want me to call you? Y/l/n?”

“Why are you here, Lee?” You asked again, your voice steadier than you expected this time.

He scoffed, his agitation almost palpable as he rolled his eyes. “I’m here because the girl I’ve been in love with since first year ran off when we finally could have reunited. I’m here because some part of me was hoping that maybe you finally realized how you felt.

“I spent every single day of my professional career trying to perform my best because I knew you’d be watching. I kept hoping that one day you’d come down from your seat in the stands after a show and hug me. I naively hoped I meant something, anything, to you.

“I’ve spent years waiting for a text or a call, anything that would prove to me that you missed me as much as I missed you, but I figured you’d finally had your dream life, and there wasn’t any place left in it for your fuckboy best friend from high school.

“I’m here because Jun said you haven’t been doing well lately and I figured the best medicine to cheer you up is an oreo mcflurry. I thought I could see you again, and we could talk, and I could finally have my Y/n back. But instead, I just learned that all those years of watching my performances didn’t mean what I’d hoped they did because the second you learned the truth, you left me behind.”

There were tears in his eyes now. He respected the distance you’d placed between the two of you, but you wished he wouldn’t.

You tried to process what he was saying, what it meant.

“That’s not true.” You whispered. His eyes were watery, proof of how hurt he felt, yet he refused to look away from you. “That’s not true at all. The letter didn’t scare me away, in fact it did the opposite. It made me realize I was always in love with you. I never wanted to admit it because I was scared, but there’s never been anyone else I’ve ever wanted to be with more than I want to be with you.

“I’m exactly what I never wanted to be. I’d give up everything to be with you. But I’d also give you up if it meant your happiness, and I didn’t want to be the girl to ruin your relationship because I was a few many years too late. I was just trying to let you go, Min. I needed to be apart from you in order to accept the truth of my situation.”

The room was quiet for only a few moments, you could see the gears turning in his head as he put together what you had said.

“You love me?” His voice broke, as if the weight of the world had just lifted from his shoulders. “Wait, hold on, you think I have a girlfriend? And that's why you stopped coming to my events?”

“I saw the way you laughed with her, Min. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh that genuinely.”

He was thinking now, trying to remember. You could see when it clicked and he started laughing.

“You saw me with Nari. Y/n, Nari is my cousin, we’re both only children so we’ve always been close, like siblings. She was in town to visit for her birthday.”

You blinked emotionlessly as you thought about it. How could you have been so stupid? A blush spread furiously and you hid your face in your hands. You were beyond embarrassed and wishing for the floor to open up and swallow you whole right about now.

Minho gently pried your hands away from your face, a lovely smile gracing his lips.

“I only ever loved you, Y/n.”

a/n: thank you so much for reading my silly little story, reblogs/comments are a great way to interact and always appreciated🫶

Alternate Ending: heartbreak is a part of life

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids fics #lee know #skz fanfic #skz x reader #lee know fanfic #lee know x y/n #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lee minho

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miss-ery-3 · 1 month

Text

ughhhh, i don't want my blog to turn into some kind of relationship-crybaby-blog, but i do have a lot to think about atm

i dont really have anyone to talk with about this. all my friends are in happy relationships and dont really seem to take any other stance than "you cannot break up" and that just really isnt helping me

buuuut, if you aren't interested in my personal (non-ed) issues, just scroll on<333 no hard feelings

so, for now, i'll just type this into space and hopefully get some kind of catharsis i guess

it's currently 1 am and i am in my childhood bedroom and i can't sleep. my head feels like it is fucking spinning. every thought in my head is "why do i feel like this? if i feel this bad should i just stay with him? but do i actually feel in love with him anymore? it's not fair to continue being with him, if i don't actually want to. would i miss him? would i regret it?" and then just in a big ol' loop

mixed with thoughts of my friend i talked to all of friday night. his face has popped up in my head constantly since i went home at 7 am from being with him all night. i feel fucking butterflies in my stomach, and get all giggly, and i want to say his name out loud for some strange reason - until i think about what these fucking butterflies mean and then i feel sick to my stomach and want to throw up. every butterfly i feel is like taking a step away from my bf, and i literally cannot control it

i feel like an absolutely horrible person, fuckk,brnfjkgnkmrf

'cause i also keep thinking about all the things my bf have done that hurt me (i guess, to make myself feel better?? but it makes me feel a whole lot fucking worse. both because i feel like a horrible person, and because he's made me fucking sad a lot of times)

like this summer, i got my bachelors degree (a fucking big thing for me - and he knew that), and he knew that i would have my last exam in, like, the end of june. i gave him the date as soon as i could (maybe two/three weeks ahead) and then like a week before i graduate, he remembers that he has plans with his 5 best friends to go drinking

and guess what

he chooses to go drinking with his friends. he celebrates me for like... 1 hour, 2 hours max. as soon as my friends arrived he was like "oops gotta go drinking with my friends that i can see all the time. no time to celebrate my girlfriend getting her bachelors degree, although she will never ever have a day like this again. no no, gotta go get shitfaced. and i am actually not going to apologize"

also at my last birthday, i celebrated it at my parents house for most of the day, and then went home in the evening (like after dinner) to go get drinks with my friends. we had planned that he would come home to my parents with me the day before, and then we could wake up together on my birthday and he could be with me and celebrate and stuff

3 days before my birthday, he says he doesn't want to go with me to my parents' house to celebrate my birthday, because he has to read for school (it was in a holiday as well, he didn't have school for days). the weekend before my birthday he chose to go drinking with his friends (i was ofc not invited) and couldnt get out of bed for days, but whenever my birthday rolled around he had to be an A fucking student. so he cancels and then we only see each other for the last, like, 4 hours of my birthday, with all of my friends and some family - and then he got annoyed with me for getting sad

he talks over me, he interrupts me and then never asks me what i was saying, he ignores me every time he picks up his phone, he always prioritizes friends, family, work and school over me, he's really good at making me feel small (not in the good way) and stupid. he corrects almost everything i say, also stuff that i dont say, but that he just want to "clear up". he drops plans w me so easily, to be with his friends and he almost never invites me. he insists on touching my belly although i've told him it makes me very uncomfortable, and then gets annoyed when i remove his hand - because 'he likes touching it, and i shouldnt feel bad about my belly'. he often ignores my text messages if he doesnt feel like they matter to him. when i ran my first 10K he ran 11K the next day to show off (he did apologize, but i still cant believe he actually did that shit). whenever ive met his friends and family, they are better at including me in the conversation than he is: he will leave me alone with people i barely know, to go do something else (and he knows that i have some social anxiety). he gets annoyed with me over things that he believes i do on purpose, but i dont (e.g. wake up later than him?? go pee before i make coffee for us?? when i forget socks when i sleep over, and ask to borrow some of his? same w phone charger and other stuff. and he usually ends up with saying "omg its just a joke" but i can feel that it isnt. otherwise he wouldve stopped doing it). sometimes he makes jokes at my expense or is just plain rude, and when i tell him to stop, he will tell me to grow up and accept a joke, and whenever i say he makes me uncomfortable/annoyed he says "i cant take that seriously" or "thats the fun part". he is horrible at picking up after himself, and will get annoyed with me if i do it for him (i cant stand mess, and he knows this.) he wont do the dishes for days on end in HIS OWN apartment, so whenever i come to visit, i usually end up doing them, cause i cant stand mess. and he ALWAYS comes out when theres like 1 spoon left and is like 'oh gosh nooo sweety, you shouldn't have done all that.. awww.. nooo, now i feel bad.. *hug, kiss* oh well' and then go back to laying on the couch).......

ofc he also has good sides, but now that i've mentioned all the crap i have a hard fucking time remembering it. but i know that he does. he gives good hugs, he can give great advice, he usually doesnt judge the stupid things i do. he knows my quirks and he likes cooking me food. he hates rubbing my back, and will get annoyed if i ask him, but he is good at it. he has nice eyes and a cute smile. he knows a lot about the things im interested in (but usually shows off his knowledge in a know-it-all kinda way). hes creative and has good music taste

ugh, i am so sorry for this long ass rant, but i just needed to get this off my chest... if anyone actually read all this, and has some advice or... anything... feel free to send a message or a reply or something idk

i feel horrible

#amy’s ⭐️ving adventure #ana trigger #tw ana diary #ed not ed sheeran #tw ed diet #thinspø #tw disordered eating #ed not sheeren #⭐️ve #⭐️ving #i will reach my ugw

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halfmoondaze · 6 months

Note

Yesss can I request a Jack fluff please?

Reader is a busy student and she hasn’t had time to sit down and spending time with Jack. Jack understands how it’s not always good putting time off of things school related but really misses reader. One day he’s at home by himself really missing reader and keeps thinking about her but can’t text or call her because she’s in class. Jack remembers that he has a bottle of y/n’s perfume and cute plushie of her favorite animal. He sprays the perfume on the plushie and cuddles with it until she gets dismissed from class and drives straight to Jack’s house for a couple of hours before going home. He tells and shows how much he missed reader to the point where he had to have the animal plushie with her perfume in his arms when walking around his house 😭❤️ when Jack finally has reader with him, he can’t help but follow her everywhere she goes from one place to another, even waiting for her outside the bathroom😂Just being so attached to her.

Threads of Longing

Finals were only a few weeks ahead and studying was Y/N’s only priority right now.

She would wake every day at 5 am. At first, she was able to have control of her sleeping routine, but as finals approached, Y/N would find herself growing so anxious, she would be unable to sleep, and instead would just study and just function off of coffee.

Because Y/N was constantly on the go, Jack was barely able to see her despite living under the same room, and he couldn’t help but miss her. But he didn’t want to be a needy boyfriend, so he would just settle for dangling conversations, while also letting her know he was there for her whenever he needed him.

Y/N was currently sitting by the kitchen counter with her laptop and iPad mindlessly taking notes while Jack who has just woken up, walked into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea.

“Hey”

Y/N continued typing away oblivious to her surroundings.

He gently placed his hand on her shoulder, and Y/N jumped startled and turned to him.

“Jack” she sighed putting her hands on her face. “You scared me”

“I just wanted to say hi…..but you were too concentrated” he scratched the back of his neck and smiled. “Did you sleep alright?”

“I wouldn’t count sleeping for 4 hours alright, but I’m managing” she laughed to herself.

“Do you want me to make you some coffee?”

Y/N closed her laptop and gathered her things.

“Thanks. But I gotta run, I wanna make the most of the two hours I have free before my class”

“Ok”

Y/N kissed him and left.

Jack sighed. He longed for her presence and found himself absent minded walking back to their shared bedroom. He found Twinkle, Y/N’s childhood plushie sitting in the corner of her room. He picked it up and inhaled the faint scent of Y/N. He got an idea.

He walked to their shared bathroom and picked up Y/N’s perfume and sprayed it all over the plushie. Then he inhaled it again. ‘That was much like it’ he thought to himself satisfied.

And just like that, he found himself cuddled in their shared bed at her side of her bed cuddling Twinkle until he fell asleep.

Jack eyes fluttered open as he woke up from his slumber to the familiar sound of the keys jiggling.

He practically raced to the living room as he saw Y/N entering the through the front door.

“Babe” he said as he wrapped his arms around her.

Y/N giggled and hugged him back.

“Hey bubs” she kissed him.

Y/N stopped in her tracks as she smelled him.

“Is that- Is that my perfume?” she smiled.

“Yeah…..I was scared I was going to forget your scent” he said sarcastically as he shrugged.

Y/N felt her heart heavy.

“Aww Jack” she hugged him tighter. “You know I’m only a few steps away, right?”

“I know but, I just barely see you. We just don’t talk as much. And I miss you”

“I’m sorry I know I’ve been distant-” she cupped his cheek.

“Hey, hey. You have nothing to be sorry about. You’re busy and I get that. You need more pressure than what you already have”

“I know but you’re my boyfriend and I haven’t paus none of my attention to you and its not fair” she sighed. “I’ll make it up to you. What about a movie night?”

“Babe, you’ve been awake since 5 am. We both know you’ll be asleep five minutes into the movie” he laughed.

“Sorry”

“I have a better idea. We ca have a bath together and you tell me all about your day?”

“Sounds like a plan”

Jack and Y/N walked upstairs to make the most of their time together.

#jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow x you #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow concepts #jackman thomas harlow #jack harlow one shot #bf!jack #jack x y/n #jack x you #jack x reader #shy!reader #student!reader #jack harlow fanfic #jackman harlow

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shelby-fangirl00 · 1 year

Text

1919-Part one

(Fluff)

Word Count: 1576

(This is my first time writing my own fic so please be nice but also please give feedback! Thank you! I will be posting more chapters very soon if you guys like it!)

‘Mornin love,’ I yawned as Finn shook me out of my sleep. I rubbed my eyes and adjusted to the gloomy morning light peering through my bedroom window. Another dreary, wet day in Birmingham.

‘Aunt Pol needs ya help in the kitchen this mornin. Said were feedin an army now.’

As Finn closed the door behind him, I shuffled over to the window. Looking out at Watery Lane. I saw some local boys picking on a girl their age. Couldn’t have been older than 6 or 7. As I watched them tease her, it brought a small smile to my face. Watching them reminded me of my childhood and growing up with the Shelby brothers.

Having Polly as a Godmother had its perks. My family, the Manson’s were a small Gypsy family that were close friends with the Shelby’s for many years. I grew up around the boys and Ada. All of my fondest memories are with them. I missed when things were simple, back then. Now, things are so different.

Tearing myself from the window, I quickly got dressed to help Pol. I rolled into some black stockings and a silky, black corset dress. Looking in the mirror, I sighed at the sight of my hair. Messy and untamed. I quickly threw it into a full and messy bun, blonde fly-aways and fallen strands sculpted my round face nicely. My dark grey eyes looked back at me through my bathroom mirror. I wondered if things would ever go back to normal around here, or what normal even looked like now that the boys were back from the war. It has been one week since their return.

Four years ago, Arthur, John and Thomas all left for the war and now, they were finally back in one piece, all three of them, which is more than other families got back.

When they left, my mother was still alive and well. Just six months ago, she had died. No one was to blame but herself. She became paranoid and depressed, always drinking, always seeing things that weren’t there. Eventually, she drank herself to death. Died drunk in her sleep.

When she died, I had no family left other than my Godmother, Polly. My father had died when I was just five. Polly took me into her care and showed me the ropes. She offered me a bedroom as long as I helped her with Finn and the house. I have been living here for six months with Finn, Ada and Polly. Now, my three best friends were back and we were all under one roof.

I rushed down the stairs and strutted into the kitchen.

‘Mornin’ then Pol,’ I chirped while kissing her on the cheek as she was leaning onto the stove top.

‘Right, mornin love. Sorry to wake ya so early, you understand?’ She said while looking up at me, smiling.

‘Don’t mind at all, Pol. I’ll set Finn up, eh?’ She nodded to me and I started working on his breakfast. I enjoyed taking care of Finn with Pol. I felt protective over him. The only family he had was Pol and Ada. That is, until last week.

After a while, I was met with the sounds of feet shuffling down the stairs.

‘Mornin Jasmine!’ John came up behind me, sneaking a kiss on mycheek and a small squeeze to my shoulders.

‘Will I be blessed with this type of treatment every mornin, then?’ John grinned wide at me while sitting down with Finn and Poly at the kitchen table.

‘If you were smart, you’d be wise to kiss the arse’ of those who handle ya food, eh?’ I said as I sat a plate of hot food in front of John at the table, giving him an innocent wink.

Arthur followed suit and sat down next to John at the table.

I sat a plate down for Arthur as well, giving him a loving squeeze to the shoulder. He grinned wide at me.

‘Well thank ya love, you’re too good to us.’

As I turned back to the kitchen, I was met by the sight of Thomas leaning in the doorway. He was nicely dressed, just as his brothers were. A newly tailored grey coat and slacks, with a white-collared button up underneath, cap in hand. His icy blue eyes met mine.

‘Mornin Tom, ya eating today, eh?’ I sighed out, walking past him. As I walked around the kitchen, Tommy’s eyes scanned my body slowly, not caring if I had noticed or not.

‘Not today, love. Boys, we should get to it. We’ve got business to attend to outside of the shop today.’ Another day of Tommy avoiding any type of conversation with me.

With that, John and Arthur stood up while shoving their faces full of food before walking out the front door.

I stood in the kitchen, peering over at Tom, who was still leaning into the doorway.

Tommy’s presence was always intimidating. Even though I’ve known him my whole life, it was difficult to be close to him again. It was like he was never real after he left, like I made him up in my mind. I also forgot about how his presence sent a fluttering and warmness through my entire body.

Tommy and me had been together on and off since I was 15 years old. We always had a different type of relationship compared to his brothers. He was more than just a friend to me. He made me feel light as air and always left my skin on fire. I missed him too much while he was gone.

The night before Tommy left, we were intimate for the first time. We wanted to share something together before he left. We didn’t know if we would ever see each other again. I wanted to wait for Tommy, but he insisted that I don’t hold out for him. He didn’t want to ruin my future if he was to die. Now, Tommy was back after four grueling and lonely years, and we haven’t talked much other than greetings and goodbyes.

I assumed Tommy wasn’t interested in me anymore, by the way he was acting. He would barely look me in the eyes until today in the kitchen. I wondered what had changed in him. I knew he had been visiting Lizzie most nights. It wasn’t my right to question it. I didn’t want him to know I cared. But I wondered why he’d rather pay for it when I’d willingly give myself to him. I missed the way he touched me, the way his fingers felt on my skin. Being near him was such a rush. He used to feel like the closest thing to home.

‘See ya at the Garrison tonight, eh?’ he said lowly, holding my eyes in his.

‘Only if you’re buying my drinks, yeh?’ holding eye contact with him as I placed my palms flat on the kitchen sink.

He chuckled and threw his head back to face the ceiling.

‘When’s the last time ya had to worry about payin for a drink, Jas?’

My heart nearly flooded out of my chest when he called me by nickname. He was the only one that ever called me that.

I couldn’t help but give him a warm smile and turn away to busy myself. He walked out of the back door, giving Pol a small nod.

Pol gave me a cheeky grin and shook her head.

‘Oh Jasmine, that boy is still head over heels for ya, isn’t he?’

You spun around to meet her gaze.

‘Pol, he’s been home for days and has barely spoken a word to me. That was the most he’s said the whole week! I’m not gettin my hopes up to just be let down. You know this.’

‘Give em’ time darling, he’s not fully back yet. He’s still got a war goin on in that thick head of his, eh? You’ll be back in his bed in no time, dear.’ She stated while taking a drink from her tea cup, unbothered.

‘Pol! He could still be outside listenin to us goin’on about him like we’are!’ We both laughed at this. Polly was usually always right about these types of things, but this was different. Tom was different this time around. He was a man now. He wasn’t as full of pure life as he was back then. It broke my heart that he had seemed to become such a cold person now. But I had grown too, quite a lot. I’m not the same as I was back then, either.

The rest of my day was spent cleaning up and babysitting Finn. Since I am living here, Pol pulled Finn out of school and is having me stay with him. I enjoy spending time with the little man. He reminds me of his brothers. So sweet and charming and also can make me laugh without even trying.

---

As I laid on my bed reading an old dusty book, later that evening, Ada barged in.

‘Jasmine, Pol and I are about to head over to the pub, ya comin with, right?’

‘Only if ya promise to get drunk with me tonight, then yeh.’ I teased while ascending down the stairs with her.

‘Oh, fuck off, you’ll be fallin over by the end of the night if John gets his hands around ya, eh?’ we giggled down the hall.

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinder fanfic

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feelmyskinonyourskin · 1 year

Text

Take What You Need - Part 1: Let the Devil Out

Matt Murdock x Female Reader

Part 2 | Part 3

Series Masterlist | My Masterlist

Warnings: SMUT/18+ ONLY. Female reader (anatomy and implication of she/her pronouns) No use of Y/N. Established relationship. Red Suit DD. Oral sex (M receiving), unprotected P in V (be safe IRL), P in V with no prep, DomMatt, choking, lil bit of breeding kink, aftercare.

Summary: The first time Matt takes you up on your offer to take what he needs. After a night of patrolling doesn't calm the devil inside, you offer for him to take it out on you.

WC: 1801

Matthew Murdock is a giver by nature – whether it’s the deep-seated catholic guilt, the childhood trauma of never having his emotional needs met, or just his naturally innate personality. For whatever reason, he is incapable of taking for himself, rarely ever utters or even thinks the words I need.

You discovered quickly into your relationship with him that also very much applied to his habits in the bedroom. He would have himself slotted between your thighs for hours, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you like it was just another day in court, but when it came time for you to return the favor, he’d shutter away from the notion. Behave as if it were a nuisance. Only give himself the pleasure for your satisfaction more than his.

Matthew, take what you need became a prayer on your lips that he very rarely answered.

That was until tonight.

The streets of Hell’s Kitchen were volatile lately. Gangs, muggers, hitmen – just to name a few of the characters he’d run into recently. He stumbled home bloody and bruised more times than he’d care to count over the past few weeks.

The crisp air nips at the little skin he has exposed, making his bones ache, seeping into him like a thousand needles. Every molecule of the blood-stained suit he wears rubs against his skin in a fiery itch. Even the faintest of sounds from the street below sends his ears into a frenzy. Not to mention the smells – copper from the blood, garbage and gasoline from the streets of New York, and sweat from his own body.

His senses are in overdrive. He’s irritable, itching for a release to calm his twitchy nervous system back into place. Even a night spent beating up the worst of Hell’s Kitchen is not enough.

A soft but familiar heartbeat cuts through the anguish and draws his attention to you, enjoying the dawning morning from a spot just outside his roof access door. He makes the final leap across rooftops and strides forward, head cocked to hone his senses to only you.

You stand to meet him, discarding the plaid throw blanket from your shoulders.

“I couldn’t sleep. Came up to get fresh air and wait for…” You begin to explain, but are cut off by him pulling your body against his and his mouth smashing into yours.

His kisses are immediately intense. Fervent. More teeth than tongue.

Between the violent attack of kisses and the stark contrast of his warm body pressed against yours in the cool dawn air, you’re left breathless, even a bit dizzy. But before you can orient yourself, he’s spinning you around and pushing you through the door that leads into his home, grasping at any part of your body he can get his hands on.

Because as this city tears him down to nothing but fragile atoms, burning every part of him as deeply as the fires of hell to which he feels his sins condemn him, there you are to save his soul.

You pull away from his kisses only for a moment, to let out a familiar request.

“Take what you need, Matthew”

And for the first time, he accepts your gracious offer.

“On your knees. Now.” he commands through his shaky exhales with a tilt of his chin.

The realization he was finally resigning to selfishness sends a fire of anticipation through your veins. Not wanting to give him any opportunity to rethink it, you scramble to drop down to your knees with a creak of the wood floor beneath you.

He licks his lips the way he always does when he’s on edge. Fiddling with the pants of his crimson devil suit for a moment until his cock springs free, already unbearably hard.

As he runs his gloved finger over your lips, he swallows thickly.

“Open.”

He pushes himself inside your mouth as soon as you part your lips.

A shudder runs through him when he reaches the back of your throat. Then he does as you requested – he takes. Thrusting in and out with no regard to how you’re gagging and choking on his length. His thick thighs offer a stable surface for you to grasp and through your lashes you look up and meet the red eyes of his mask. The eyes of the devil.

And what a devilish sin it is, Matt thinks to himself, to give in so fully to his desires. To fight so hard against his selfless instincts.

Tears spring to your eyes with every rut of his pelvis while your strangled moans encourage him to keep fucking your willing mouth. If he continues at this pace, he knows he will finish before fully having you in the way he wants.

No. The way he needs.

Grasping at your throat, he pulls out from you, heavy boots stomping backward to orient himself. Warm spit dribbles down your chin. You gasp at the now empty space around you and it’s suffocating.

“Still with me?” His breathing is ragged and uneven as he finally speaks again.

“Yes”

He wastes no time, bending down to strip you of your clothes quickly. They flutter over the side of the railing into the living room below. A soft contrast to the plonking sound of his gloves haphazardly being discarded as well and meeting the same fate as your pajamas below.

“Turn around.” he orders with a nod of his chin

Now bare beneath him, you comply and turn to face away. Your hands grasp at the spindles that cage the landing in, also now caging you into his unrestrained desires.

Desperation seeps from your every pore like watercolors bleeding across a canvas, your thundering heartbeat and the slick between your legs alerting Matt’s hypersenses to your readiness. He nudges at your entrance with the head of his cock, not wishing to waste another moment apart from you.

Any remaining shred of control is lost. The sound of his sex meeting yours and the warmth of your arousal is enough to make him lose it. He plunges all the way in with a vicious thrust of his hips, allowing no time for your cunt to adjust. And then he’s desperately rutting into you, breathy little moans escaping with every push of his hips.

“Matthew!” you cry out as satisfying pain burns through you.

The sensation of finally indulging in his own needs and desires first is so foreign to him, to be given so much with no expectation in return. He knows this must truly be what it means to let the devil out - to fully blur the line between man and demon.

The rough woven fabric of his suit burns against your exposed back as his thrusts become harsher. Tonight the praise that usually slips from his lips as your bodies meet is replaced by only harsh moans and grunts.

You’re fully pliable to his touch now, eyes brimming with tears moments away from spilling over your lids and staining your cheeks. He can taste them in the air, as he adjusts his pace and begins pounding into the spot guaranteed to unravel you quickly. Your growing whimpers alerting him that he’s got you exactly where he wants you, teetering towards your undoing. At this point, you’re well aware that he’s toying with you, edging you to your limit for his own gratification, full control over when and how you cum. If that’s the only thing he feels like he can control at this point, you’ll let him have it.

He leans forward to wrap his arm around your front and capture your throat in his grasp while his other hand runs desperately up and down your body, grabbing and groping at every inch of exposed skin.

If this was the intensity at which he patrolled and protected, you understood why the underbelly of this city only dared whisper about the man in the mask. But you weren’t afraid of him letting the devil out. If anything it was relieving to submit fully to his mercy – to fully know the parts of him he so desperately wanted to hide from you.

Reaching above where the two of you are joined, his tepid fingers harshly rub at your clit, coaxing you towards your end almost as furiously as his mind has been racing this evening. He doesn’t miss the cues your body is giving – the arch of your back, the intensified way your cunt is squeezing around him, more and more of you dripping onto him. Knowing the fire within him wont fully extinguish until he feels you meet your release.

You can barely think straight from the sheer intensity of your pleasure as your orgasm floods your system, finally breaking him free of the unruly angst he felt tonight. The vibrations in your chest as you continue to whimper and recover from your high pull him into the abyss along with you. He’s panting harshly as he cums, his whole body shaking as frazzled grunts spill from his lips. Electricity ricocheting between the two of you as he spills deep inside, finally placating the burning itch.

A new pain appears (in addition to the ache in your knees and the releasing tension of your muscles) the horns of his devil mask poking into your shoulder blades as he rests his forehead on your exposed back. His grip releases from your throat to find the hand you have clutched to the spindles, lacing his fingers with yours.

The stabbing of the horns are quickly replaced by featherlight kisses. Calmness washes over him in a tidal wave with the act of giving pleasure to flesh, not pain. It feels like an eternity until he finally pulls himself from you, his breathing now steady and even.

“C’mon, let’s get cleaned up” he speaks, almost in a whisper, as he paws at your soft flesh, assisting you to your feet and gingerly guiding you down the stairs.

A warm shower and a massage of your shoulders later, you’re snuggled together under silk sheets, not daring to give in to the sleep you both desperately need. Afterall, the harsh cries of your morning alarm are any moment away.

Matt holds you near, running long circles with his hands up and down the exposed flesh of your arms and back. As he embraces you, he marvels at how easily you offered yourself to him tonight and how willingly you gave, just as he does in nearly every aspect of his life. The thought grounds him, more than being buried inside you already has.

The pink and blue glows of the night time billboard through the large, loft windows are now washed away with the warmth of morning sunlight and the last signs of the devil inside finally dissipate with the rising sun.

NEXT CHAPTER

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echo-bleu · 4 months

Text

Mettarë/Yestarë traditions

In Númenor and Gondor (On AO3)

Today is the winter solstice, which corresponds to Yestarë, the first day of the year, in the King's Reckoning (Númenor and early Gondor calendar) and the Steward's Reckoning (later Gondor). In elven calendars, it usually falls in early spring or at the equinox instead.

Tolkien said little about it, except that the last and first day of the year, Mettarë and Yestarë, fall outside the calendar proper. I wanted to come up with some headcanons for the holiday for my fics.

Mettarë is the last day of the year, and as such, a day of closing and ending.

You are meant to finish as many ongoing projects and things as you can in the week leading up to it to be able to start fresh in the new year.

Mettarë is also the day for the worship of Mandos.

For Men, death is an end and a new start, and Mandos is the Judge and the Guardian of the Halls through which they must pass to go beyond the world. Mettarë is about closure, and remembering the dead and letting go of your grief.

If someone in the household died in the previous year, you spend Mettarë sorting through their possessions.

(personal items, mostly, clothes and such, whatever you can afford to keep untouched until Mettarë)

Then you put them all into the room where they slept (or a room you can associate with them, but it’s usually a bedroom. Depending on who mourns them, might be their childhood bedroom, or even their front door if they lived alone and you could afford to keep the rent up/not sell it until now, etc. If needed, it could be a room they’ve only been to once while travelling, or even a random closet or a cellar with their stuff in it in a pinch).

Usually people decorate the door somewhat, with dried flower wreaths and bouquets that they made in the summer for that purpose.

During the day of Mettarë, the household will also welcome in anyone who knew and loved the deceased, and the guests will bring either something of the deceased that they can afford to give away (or something that reminds them of them) or more dried flowers, maybe also dried fruit.

At nightfall, after all but the closest people have gone, they gather around the door and light a candle, which they put on the floor in front of the door (far away enough that all the dried flowers don’t catch fire, please, we’re trying not to burn down the house).

They say a prayer to Mandos in Quenya that goes something like “please Mandos, give them a second chance and call them again so that they might go beyond the world and be at peace” (but like, archaic).

That is because there’s a belief that on Mettarë, the doors of Mandos might open just a fraction for all the people who didn’t answer the call the first time, and Mandos will call them again.

This is derived from various elven beliefs and traditions, but Men go through Mandos too on their way outside the world, and it’s unclear whether they can miss the Call or not, so better be safe. In any case, that’s how it coalesced in Mannish beliefs.

Then they open the door just a fraction, and they will leave it like this until dawn, with no one going in or out.

(if someone else usually sleeps in that room, they might relocate for the night, but this is why you wouldn’t normally use a kitchen or a living room)

If the candle is snuffed out quickly by a draft, it is believed that this might be the fëa of the dead finally answering the call and going through the crack of the door. If it’s not, they already answered the call, or they never will.

The candle, while it is there to call the loved one’s fëa and light the way, is really more symbolic and also a bit of a hazard, so you don’t leave it burning all night.

It’s not really done to snuff out the dead’s candle, of course, so you should select a candle that will only burn for a couple hours at most.

In third age Gondor, candles that burn for exactly two hours are sold for that purpose, sometimes decorated with flowers, but most people will just use the end of a regular candle.

Often families will reminisce about the dead loved one while the candle burns.

In the morning, on Yestarë, the first day of the year, the family takes down the decorations and opens the door wide.

They bring out all the possessions of the deceased, which they sorted through and stacked in the previous day, and they start handing them out.

Usually anyone who was close to the deceased will take one personal item that belonged to them, so various people will come in through the morning to pay their respects and take an object.

It’s mostly the same people who came the previous day, and left things of the deceased in the room, so a lot of them will just take the same thing back, but they might leave “theirs” and take something else. The family/spouse/children/whatever still normally gets final say over who gets what if there are disagreements, but it’s very bad form to argue over this. Usually they’ve mostly agreed on it the previous day.

People symbolically take one thing but of course, if there is a need, someone might get the deceased’s entire wardrobe or whatever, this is a day of charity.

Then anything left is taken to be donated to people who need it. Large official building (city hall, feast halls, the lord’s reception room, etc) will be turned into a donation space on Yestarë afternoon, where you can bring things to donate and people who need it can receive them.

If you haven’t lost someone during the year, you can still honour Mandos and the dead on Mettarë.

It’s a good day to go through your own stuff and pile up what you no longer need and can donate.

A lot of families will still decorate a door and go through the ceremony, for any fëa that doesn’t have anyone to do it for them. Over the years though, it’s become more and more symbolic and ritualistic, rather than meaningful.

Dried flowers are still popular for the door, but so are other things, like death imagery: various objects decorated with skeletons or skulls, depictions of Mandos and his Halls, and also depictions of Valinor, because death and Valinor have coalesced together somewhat in the minds of Men.

Mettarë door ornaments are a flowering market in the weeks leading up to it.

Those without a loved one to mourn usually don’t light a candle, but they might also add something in the shape/likeness of a candle on the door.

Then on Yestarë morning, people exchange small gifts. You’re supposed to give your loved ones something of yours that you picked the previous day, but many people make or buy new things instead.

It should still be small, inexpensive gifts.

Then in the afternoon, families go to the donation spaces and bring anything they no longer need to donate. Everyone gathers, and it’s a time of collective enjoyment and celebration of the new year.

But there are no drinks or food while the donations are ongoing, out of respect for those who are in mourning.

Usually the local lord (or king) will preside over the donations. If he’s a good lord, he will donate more than anyone else and make sure that the poorest people get everything they need.

Then a large buffet is served, at which everyone, regardless of class, is invited.

In some places, there is a dinner and feast specifically for the court, but the lord is supposed to provide for everybody on Yestarë night, so there will still be a free meal for the lower classes.

In terms of dress code, you can dress up on Mettarë but keep it sober, with little jewellery or bling.

You should also do your hair in the simplest way possible. If it’s long, it should be in a simple plait.

This is derived from the First Age Noldor tradition of braiding the hair of the dead in a single plait as part of the funeral customs, so that they might not be too attached to their body and refuse the call of Mandos.

That’s of course a very Noldorin belief, but it spread to Númenor (probably through Elros, but perhaps also from those who came from Thargelion and Nargothrond) and they’ve kept it up, though they no longer remember the cause.

On Yestarë, you can go all out and dress in your best clothes.

Food is also very simple on Mettarë, with no drinking allowed. On Yestarë, fast is broken at dawn with a large breakfast, but made only of plants and dairy, no meat. Then a large animal (or more depending on the size of the town or place) is slaughtered in the morning and roasted in public for the feast.

The actual dishes vary depending on the area, and change dramatically in Fourth Age Gondor, when the start of the year is moved to the spring.

Yestarë isn’t really a food-based festival though (unlike, say, the harvest festival) so it’s mostly going to be large, filling dishes rather than delicacies.

Note: none of this is canon. I meant to write more details and stories involving actual characters, but I also wanted to post it today, so. Feel free to use it in fic if you want! (and please tell me if you do!)

#tolkien #lotr #lord of the rings #the lord of the rings #silmarillion #the silmarillion #echo's fanfiction #kinda #tolkien headcanons #mettare #yestare

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saltsicklover · 11 months

Text

Hung Every Star

Title: Hung Every Star

Pairing: Bruce Banner x Disabled!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7000

Rating: T

Warnings: Talk of medical problems, disabled reader.

Friends to Lovers!!!

Disclaimer: I do not own Bruce Banner, or anything related to Marvel within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

"Bruce, listen to me, and listen to me good," I speak into the phone, my voice a sort of choked up and strangled mess of syllables and affixes, "I am going to be just fine. Things are going to be tough, but I don't need you to worry about them. You have the world saving thing to worry about. I am going to find a new doctor, take another job to pay for health issuance, and I am going to get back on my medication in a few months. Everything is going to be just fine." I repeat the last bit more for my own benefit than for his.

I have just been informed that my current insurance no longer covers my medical care and I had called Bruce, a lifelong friend, to vent. Part of it was also a lie, I lost my insurance all together when I got laid off, but frankly I am not ready to admit that to anyone yet.

We have known each other since we were children, or I suppose since I was a child and he was just barely a teenager. Our families each owned a portion of a time share that just so happened to be a duplex. Every summer we would pack our things and head for the lake, taking up residence next to the Banner family. Bruce and I's bedroom even shared a wall. As we got older, I would cover for him when he snuck out and he would make sure that I was always cared for. The eight year age gap never seemed to faze us, and we were fast friends who loved each other like siblings.

"Bubba, please," He began, my childhood nickname all but covers up the too familiar plead in his voice that I have begun to hear too often, "Just come to the compound and let me help."

"You know how I feel about going upstate." I try and swerve the subject and I know Bruce is shaking his head on the other end of the phone.

"This isn't about traveling upstate and you know it!" He shouts, but I don't bother pulling the phone from my ear. I can hear him breathe deeply over the line as he composes himself, "Bubba, I know you don't want to feel like you are burdening anyone, but you aren't okay? How about you come first thing on Monday and let me check you out. Everyone is going to be away on mission and I will sleep better knowing you have at least let me check you out."

I hum into the receiver as I mull over his words. As much as I don't want to inconvenience the Avengers, especially because they just got done taking down Ultron, I know I only have a weeks worth of medication left. I pick up the large bottle, dumping the oblong yellow capsules into my hand before triple checking the amount.

"Alright, Bruce," I finally speak, biting at my lip to mumble the words. "I will come up on Monday, but the second I am in the way, I am leaving."

"I will take it," He rumbles, the joy in his voice leaking over the line, "One more thing, Bubba,"

"What?" I question, wiping my eyes with my sleeve, attempting to remove the dried tears from my cheeks.

"You know that's the first time you have called me Bruce since you were seventeen." He points out, "I hated it."

Bruce's blunt words cause me to full on belly laugh, easing the tension in my shoulders slightly. He chuckles lightly through the phone.

"That's better." He simpers, "I'll see you on Monday, Bubba. I love you."

"I love you, too, Bruiser." I bid him before hanging up the phone.

When I pulled up to the compound on Monday morning, I was relieved to see that the grounds were quiet. A few odd agents roamed around outside but I felt rather invisible which gave me the courage to leave my car and head for the front doors.

A blond agent sat at the desk when I walked in, typing away on a computer, the phone receiver held loosely between his cheek and shoulder. He didn't even make eye contact when I approached the desk which left me standing there sort of awkwardly, bouncing slightly on the balls of my feet.

The agent stuck his hand out forcefully, eye contact still on his computer screen. 'ID' was all he said as he made a sort of grabby hand gesture with his outstretched hand. I riffled around in my bag before handing it over to him. He looked at it before handing me a 'Visitor Badge' in return point down the hallway to my right. I thanked him, but he didn't seem to notice.

I head down the large hallway now, scanning each of the nameplates on the doors as I go. There were so many that they start to blur together and I have to shake my head to keep focus.

"Bubba!" A voice calls from the hallway bisecting the one I am meandering down. I look up to see Bruce standing there, a wide smile on his face. His hands are piled high with files, a cup of tea balanced precariously atop them. His briefcase is slung over his shoulder.

"Hey there, Bruiser," I rush over to him, taking his mug into my hand before pulling him into a hug with an arm draping over his neck. "It's really good to see you."

"It's good to see you too, kid. Come on, lets go to the clinic and we can get started." I follow him down the hallways, twisting and turning around corridors before we finally make it to an annex building.

"Here we are, go ahead and put your stuff down. Did you bring your charts with you?" He inquires, setting his files down on the desk with a thud. He sits down into the desk chair, typing away at the computer.

"Here is everything as of three weeks ago." I slide a file across the desk, taking a seat across from him. "No 'how are you' or anything, huh?" I ask, setting my bag down on the floor next to me. Bruce looks up at me, a dumb smile on his face.

"I'm sorry Bubba. How are you?" He pushes his hair back out of his eyes carefully.

"Considering I drove all the way up here to see your ugly mug, I could be better." I wink at him. He rolls his eyes in return, flipping open my file.

"This thing is hefty." He murmurs, more to himself than to me. I can feel a blush begin to bleed its way over my chest. I have been sick for a while and Bruce has always known, but the idea of him looking over all the intimate details of it all has me anxious. "Lets go over this, then I'll go ahead and examine you. After that, maybe draw some blood and all that good stuff. Are you okay if I get a couple of lab workers to run the tests?"

"Sure, I suppose." I mutter, looking him over. It's been about a year since I last saw Bruce, but he really hasn't changed since his accident, or really much at all. His dark mop of curls still stuck out in all directions and his brown eyes still glowed. He wears a lab coat, and business attire underneath which still cracks me up if I think about it too long. I remember when he wore nothing but too-loose jeans and waffle shirts.

We spend the next few hours going over records and my health. He asks me so many questions that my head spins. One thing about Bruce, he has always been thorough. He takes blood samples and looks over my medication. Through the whole ordeal he has made himself impossible to read which only adds to the stress crawling under my skin.

"Well, thing's aren't great, but they aren't terrible either." Bruce takes off his glasses and rubs over the bridge of his nose carefully. The gesture does not inspire any sort of confidence. "Your whole digestive system is a mess. Your nervous system is shot. You never grew out of your asthma, I don't know why your quack of a doctor said you did. You've got a handful of mental health medication, which are at least working, and don't even get me started on your uterus."

"Jesus Christ Bruiser, is there anything that isn't wrong with me?" I laugh, running my hands over my thighs.

"I will get all of your medication ordered and sent to your place, okay?" He dodges my question, typing away at the computer in front of him. "While you are here, want to grab some lunch with me? We can hang out in the Avengers wing away from all of the suits."

"That sounds wonderful." I nod, pulling myself to my feet.

We spend the whole of lunch catching up and joking with each other. He tells me about his sort of 'thing' with Natasha and we go over my complete lack of love interests. We talk about the team and how he feels like he is finally doing okay with being a hero and that makes my heart swell with pride. We reminisce about being kids at the lake and about how we wish we could go back sometimes.

"Banner, want to tell me why you special ordered a whole pharmacy on my credit card?" A silky voice breaks over our laughter, pulling us from the bubble of nostalgia we have been in for the last couple hours.

Bruce's eyes lock over my shoulder and I turn to see none other than Tony Stark standing there, a tablet in hand. He is dressed in a breathtakingly expensive navy suit paired with a soft lavender dress shirt. A pair of purple tinted glasses sit on the bridge of his nose, the thick frames showcasing the arrent brown of his eyes. His lack of tie and open collar leaving a perfect view of the top of his chest. A beautiful redhead stands next to him, holding a few files in hand.

"Oh, hey Tony. Hi Pepper," Is all Bruce manages to say, the presence of the Playboy and his assistant catching us both off guard.

"Bruiser, you said there wasn't going to be anyone else here, let alone your boss," I ask, voice stern but wavering. I stand from the couch, trying to put some distance between the horrible anxious feeling in my chest and myself but only managing to move further from both men.

"He's not actually my boss-" Bruce begins but his words are cut off with a chuckle coming from Tony.

"I don't know which B-Word I like better, Boss or Bruiser." He laughs again, clapping his hands together. I manage a glare directed straight at Bruce.

"Seriously Tony?" Bruce asks, pushing himself from the couch. He takes a deep breath, shaking his head as if to try and shake loose some sort of idea. "Bubba, this is Tony, Tony, this is Bubba." He gestures between us, introducing us. "And that is Pepper Pots, Tony's assistant."

"Ah yes, Y/F/N Y/L/N, born and raised in the Midwest, high school graduate, no college degree, but it looks like you've got some certifications and licenses under your belt," Tony reads from the tablet in his hands, "And you are apparently friends with our resident rage monster, Dr. Banner."

I look at Bruce again, his head buried in his hands. I suddenly feel like a deer caught in the headlights, unsure of what to do in this situation. I have never had a stranger know quite so much about me.

"Bubba, answer a question for me, would you?" Tony asks, turning on his heel. I check with Bruce who gives me one of those 'I don't have the slightest' looks, shrugging his shoulders. "Why do you call him Bruiser?" There is nothing but amusement in his voice. He hands his tablet to Pepper, looking between Bruce and I in anticipation.

"Bubba," Bruce warns me. I can feel his eyes boring into the side of my face as I look at Tony. "Don't you dare." That just earns a laugh from Tony. I just shake my head, not bothering to answer.

"Not a secret I am going to share with a stranger." I finally say, bouncing on my toes. Bruce lets out a breath he was holding.

"Okay, okay, all in due time I suppose." Tony claps his hands, "What do you do, Bubba?"

"I am a party planner." I lie. Was, I was a party planner. My stomach twists with nausea.

"Not as of a week ago." Pepper says casually, clicking away at the tablet. She wears a bit of a scowl, looking like she wants to be anywhere but here.

"What?" Bruce's voice cuts through the tension that has built around me, closing me in. "What does she mean by that, Bubba?"

Bruce's voice has a special way of eating away at me, it has been that way since we were children. This isn't the first time he has caught me in a lie, but this is definitely the first time it wasn't a lie I told my parents. I can feel my stomach twist and it's not from the lack of medication in my system.

"I lost my job, but it's no big deal. I've sent out some resumes, I'll find something soon." I tell him, trying to play down the situation. I am slick with sweat now, anxiety thrumming under my skin.

"Sooner than you might think," Pepper speaks, "We want to offer you a contract to plan the rest of our events for the year. You come highly recommended it seems." She continues typing away, not bothering to look up at me. Tony stands beside her, a million dollar smile adorning his face.

I can't believe what I am hearing, a job offer has just fallen into my lap and I can't seem to make my brain work long enough to process it. Maybe it's the constant nausea, or maybe it's the situation, but my stomach rolls over.

"I'll send the contract for you to read over and you let me know by the end of the week what you think of it, okay?" Pepper turns and pulls Tony with her out of the room. I stand dumbstruck in front of Bruce, unsure of what to say. I bring my hands to my stomach, attempting to ground myself in the moment. I take a few deep breathes, the last couple minutes playing on rerun in m head.

When I finally look at Bruce, he is smiling brightly at me.

"What is it?" I ask, rubbing my hands together to try and ease some of my anxiety.

"I'm just looking forward to seeing you more often, that's all." He sits back down on the couch, kicking his legs up onto the coffee table. Confident bastard.

"You think I am taking this job?" I ask him, eyes wide.

"I think you will when you find out all of the amenities that come with it." He says like its a matter of fact. I scoff. "You get full medical coverage, including prescriptions. Vacation time, sick time, all of the good stuff."

I think about the information carefully, but there is doubt in my mind about taking the job- working for the Tony Stark means putting myself out there in a way I never have before. But then again, it's only until the end of the year, and I can tough out eight months if it means not having to worry about medical care. Being close to Bruce is also a plus. I've missed having him around.

"I'll think about it."

---

"I can't believe they expect me to move into the freaking compound." I announce to Bruce, my phone held between my ear and shoulder as I read the contract on my laptop. It has been three days since Pepper offered me job. The contract sat in my email collecting dust until this morning.

"It's a good gig, Bubba," Bruce begins. I can hear him munching on something over the phone. "Plus, it would get you out of that shitty apartment. I hate that you live there, and truth be told, I don't think you like it."

"Oh shut up, it's not so bad." I look around at my messy studio apartment, grimacing.

"It's not so bad if you like being able to get stuff out of your refrigerator from your bed."

"It makes for easy midnight snacking" I counter back, closing my laptop with a metallic click. I shift around on my bed, pulling my knees to my chest. "If I take this, and that's a big if, are we able to keep my medical shit under the rug? I'd prefer to not advertise it."

"You bet, it's not anyone's business anyway." He soothes me. "I've got to get back to it, but seriously Bubba, just take the job and quit doubting yourself. I love you, kid."

"I love you too, stupid." I hang up the phone.

I look over my studio again, thinking about how nice it would be to live somewhere bigger than a shoebox. I open my laptop again, eyes dragging over the contract as I scroll. I click reply at the bottom.

"Dear Miss Pots, I would officially like to accept your job offer..."

---

Bruce took Friday off to come and help me pack all of my belongings. It didn't take longer than half a day to pack, not that much had fit into my studio in the first place. It is Saturday now, the sun high up in the sky beating down on us as we unload the truck in front of the compound.

I look down from the truck to see Bruce standing there, hands on his hips as he looks up at me, smile wide.

"What is it, Bruiser?" I question him, cocking my eyebrow.

"I just can't believe we will be living in the same place again, we are going to be kids all over again," He is awed at the thought, "Hell, your quarters even share a wall with mine!"

"Somehow I believe it won't be just like it was growing up, unless I find you sneaking out of the window again to go make out with Sherry Fisher." I tease him, pulling another box from the small pile in the back of the truck.

"Dude, you were eleven, how do you even remember her?" He takes the box from me with a chuckle.

"I remember because I had to cover for your ass when your Mom called mine so see where you had been that morning! Do you seriously not remember any of this?" I question him. I begin to pull the last of the boxes towards the opening of the truck bed.

"No I don't, keep going, what did you tell her?" He asks, pulling down two small boxes.

"I told them that you had gone fishing on the other side of the lake, then I ran outside and hid your pole and tackle box down by the old tire swing!" I pull the last box off the truck bed, walking it over to the pile we've made by the side door of the compound. "Then, when you finally came home covered in Sherry's cherry lip gloss, I pushed you into the lake!"

"Now that part I remember!" He exclaims, pointing at me with one hand. A playful smirk decorates his lips and I can't help but laugh at the memory of him falling into the murky water. "You ruined my favorite shoes when you threw me in there!"

"But you still thanked me. Heaven hath no fury like Mrs. Banner." I laugh. Bruce shakes his head in agreement.

"You saved me from my mother's wrath and I will always be thankful for that." He picks up a couple of the boxes, placing them in a stack on the movers bed before tilting it back and pulling it through the door. I sling my duffle bag and backpack over my body before pulling a suitcase behind me as I follow Bruce into the compound.

It didn't take long before all of the boxes were piled in my living room. Bruce had left to get us lunch, leaving me behind to begin the unpacking process. I have a large living room, a kitchenette, a huge bedroom, and one and a half bathrooms all to myself. I know I don't have enough stuff to fill all of the space, and I am thankful that it came mostly furnished. I left the old furniture at the studio, wanting to make a completely fresh start.

I pull open one of the boxes, pulling out kitchen plates and mugs from the inside, but I don't get very far before there is a knock at the door. I swing it open carefully, making sure there aren't any boxes in the way. Tony stands on the other side clad in an Iron Maiden tee-shirt and a well fitting pair of dark wash jeans. He smiles that million dollar grin at me before stepping into my new quarters.

"It's good to see you're settling in." He begins, gazing around at all of the boxes. "I have a file for you, its the outline for the gala we are throwing next month. I need you to start planning it right away." He explains, holding out a folder for me. "Pepper usually drops this kind of stuff off but she is... off site at the moment."

"Ah, thank you, I'll get started right away." I tell him, hugging the folder to my chest. Without a warning, my watch on my wrist starts ringing, a shrill noise filling the room causing both Tony and I to jump. "Oh god, I'm sorry, this stupid thing keeps doing this." I hit the buttons, getting the alarm to stop. I ignore the "High Heartrate" alert that flashes across the screen before turning my attention back to Tony.

"Is everything alright?" He narrows his eyes at me, searching my face for any since of duress.

"I'm all good, I promise. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get some of this unpacking done and then I'll get started on this baby right here." I pat the folder. He doesn't say anything, just offers me a nod in return before heading out the door the way he came. I close the door behind him before heading to the couch, carefully laying myself on the floor and propping my legs up on the soft cushions. This should get my heart rate down, I hope, but only time will tell.

The next month goes by steadily, most of the team off on missions. The only people I really interact with are Bruce, Tony and Pepper. I did manage to meet Natasha once as she was passing though on her way to her next mission post. I spend most of the time planning out the charity gala that Tony is throwing.

Roughly two hundred people are expected here tonight for a black tie party. The ballroom of the compound is decorated in deep navy and lavender, the same way that Tony was when I first met him. Something about the colors seemed to stick in my mind. Though they may be moody for late May, I opted for them anyway.

Each table was set with rose gold flatware and bone China. Eucalyptus and baby's breathe center pieces sit on each table. The place cards were all hand written and embossed with matching rose gold foil. String lights ran from the center point of the room out towards all of the walls creating a chandelier like effect. The small orchestra was set up in the corner, near the dance floor and across from the bar. Overall everything was absolutely breathtaking.

"Hey, Bubba, this looks amazing," Bruce catches my attention as he walks into the ballroom. He spins around taking in all of the decorations, eyeing each detail before he focuses his attention back to me.

"Thanks Bruiser, I think so too. I have really gotta impress you guys. I am meeting the team for the first time tonight and probably like a hundred other people and I'd like to think of this room as my very first impression. I just hope it goes well, and that Tony will like it." I ramble as I adjust one of the place cards on the table.

"Everything looks fantastic and they are going to love you." Bruce pulls me into a hug, rubbing my back with his hand to ease the tension in my body. "Please tell me you have something to wear tonight."

"Excuse me, this is literally my job. Did you really think I was going to show up in these ripped jeans and this flannel?" I jab, pinching at his sides. He pulls away, bending awkwardly to avoid my fingers. "Now, I have to go meet with the caterers so I will see you tonight." I wave him off before turning to head to the kitchen.

It wasn't long before I got to get cleaned up and ready for the party. After a quick shower I stand in front of my closet mulling over my options. I could wear anything black tie, really. It's not like anyone is going to be focused on me at this thing. I shift the clothes around, pulling out a garment bag containing gray tuxedo. This will do.

I pull the garment out of the bag carefully before dressing myself. The deep gray of the suit complementing the purple silk dress shirt I styled with it. I put in some earrings before tying my long gray tie. I leave my hair down and curly, letting it frame my face. The last step is a pair of dress shoes. I hate wearing heels to these things and absolutely avoid them whenever possible.

By the time I head down stairs, Bruce is already standing in the ballroom talking to a couple of people. The party kicks off in about fifteen minutes and no part of me is surprised that he is early. My watch screams again, the 'High Heartrate' alarm sounding though out the room. I click the buttons quickly as I make my way deeper into the room.

He lights up when he sees me, excusing himself from the group he was talking to before walking over to meet me. He pulls me into his side, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

"You look fantastic, Bubba," He smiles, "How are you feeling?"

"Nervous, this kind of feels like a make or break moment, you know?" I tell him, letting my eyes gaze over the table settings. He keeps an arm wrapped around my body protectively as he leans down to whisper in my ear.

"That's not exactly what I meant," His voice is stern, a ribbon of worry peaking through. His face is buried in my hair.

"Oh Bruiser, I am fine, don't worry. I took all my medication this morning, and I have the next two doses right here." I pat my chest signaling to the contents of my chest pocket. He smiles at me one of those bright smiles that lights up your whole chest with warm and I savor the feeling as it spreads throughout my chest. He gives me an encouraging pat on the back.

The rest of the night goes off without a hitch. Tony loves the whole ambiance of the party, and Pepper hangs off his arm in the most lovely way. It warms my heart to see them together in such a way, but it leaves a dark green part of my soul crying with envy. The whole night I have managed to meet all of Bruce's team- his friends. They welcome me with open arms, especially Natasha. I can't help but feel a bit bad about that fact, tearing her attention away from Bruce when I know he is the one biding for it.

As the night begins to slow, the open windows bring cool night air into the party. I am sat at the bar, one drink in my hand, the same one that I have been nursing for the past three hours. I'm not supposed to drink, not on these meds, but it's definitely time to celebrate.

"How long have you been sitting here all alone?" I catch a glimpse of Natasha in the mirror behind the bar. She wears a light smirk covered in dark red lipstick. The dress she's in hugs her figure nicely, stretching with her movements. There is no bling or sparkle to the piece, the dark blush color speaking volumes all by itself.

"Oh, not too long," I tell her as she slides up into the seat next to me. I run a finger over the rim of my glass, over and over again. She carries a martini in her hand, the lime green color makes me a bit nauseous, but I try not to let the feeling show.

"So," She begins, placing her neatly folded hands on her knee, "How long have you and Bruce been seeing each other?" My eyes go wide at her question, my hands coming to a stop.

"I beg your pardon?" I take a long sip of my drink, the immediate need to wet my throat almost overwhelming. I can feel my heartbeat quicken in my chest, bruising the inside of my ribcage with each insistent thump.

"Oh, you don't have to be embarrassed. You can tell me! Bruce is practically my best friend. I can respect the fact that he wants to keep your relationship a secret. After all, in this line of work, it's easier to appear alone. You're less of a target that way," She brings her drink up to her lips, sipping slowly at the toxic colored liquid. She eyes me carefully, I can almost feel each and every pass of her eyes over the expanses of my skin.

I am sure my whole body is drenched in sweat now, being on the opposite side of a deadly women with looks that could kill really does that to a person, but I do my best to compose what little of myself I can before offering her a smile.

"I'm not sure what Bruiser has told you, but we are just long time friends. He's also technically my doctor. And also my roommate? Is that what we'd all be called, since we live here together?" I shake my head, trying to shake my thoughts back into place, "Bruiser and I are a lot of things, but together isn't one of them," I tell her.

"That's really a shame," She mutter a bit, but there is something behind her voice that I can't quite read, "I see how you two look at each other, and he talks about you like you hung every star in the galaxy. The way his eyes sparkle when your name is even mentioned," She laughs a bit to herself, "I just thought there was something there,"

"The something is probably all of the residual anger from all those times I had to push him into the lake as kids," I laugh a bit, but Nat just looks at me inquisitively.

Before I can say anything else, my heart monitor on my watch begins to ring, loud and obnoxious. I push the sleeve of my tux up, fumbling with it for a moment before accessing the buttons to turn it off. Natasha's eyes dart down to it quickly, before she excuses herself and disappears back into the crowd.

Before I can even begin to process the conversation I just had with Natasha, I can hear Bruce's voice excusing himself through the crowd with a chorus of "Oops" and "I'm Sorry". I catch him in the mirror, concern written all over his face. The look he sends me makes my heart beat faster, setting off the monitor again. I am quicker to shut it off this time, but Bruce grabs my wrist and pulls me off of my seat.

"Come on, I'm calling it." He tells me, an air of concern in his voice. I can tell he is trying to stuff it down, to bury it under some sort of tone that booms with authority. He laces his fingers with mine and the heat that pours off his palm is stifling. He drags me through the crowd and into the elevator. After he asks for the floor with the nearest lab and the elevator begins its decent he turns to me, eyes full to the brim with worry.

"How much have you had to drink?" He questions me, fingers still laced with mine. It's like he's holding me there, like if he takes his hand away I might disappear into thin air.

"Technically less than one. You didn't let me finish my vodka lemonade," I tell him, crossing one arm over my chest in faux offense.

"Don't do that, Bubba," He scolds, rolling his eyes at me. I want to fight him, to tease him, to push his buttons just like I have done most of our lives but something stops me. Maybe its the look in his eyes, or the way that his face is written with concern, his brain working a thousand miles a minute at some new unknown problem. Maybe it is the conversation Natasha and I had, hanging every star in the night sky and all that. Whatever it is, I keep my mouth shut, eyes boring into Bruce's profile as he guides me out of the elevator.

The next few minutes blur by as I undress from the waist up down to my bar. Bruce is insistent on running an EKG, even though we did one a couple of months ago. I can feel how my skin blushes under his eyes, no doubt turning into a raspberry kissed sort of red. It doesn't help when his fingertips skim over my body, his gentle touches leaving a fire of energy in their wake.

I can tell he is flustered with the way he gingerly moves the band of my bra, avoiding all eye contact with me while he presses the lead to my skin. I want to tell him how unnecessary this all is, but the words are caught somewhere between my head and my tongue. I can't help but dwell on each press of his fingertips, the gentle way he touches me and how my heart seems to flutter.

Bruce begins to run the test, asking me to sit still and be quiet. I let my mind drift back to Natasha's words, and I can feel my heart spike the machine. Bruce runs a hand through his hair as he watches the results, squinting at the spike that has been recorded.

"I need to talk to you about something," I inform him, sitting up.

"After the test, lay back down," He places a hand on my shoulder, his fingers spread out enveloping as much flesh as he can reach. He still doesn't quite meet my eyes.

"No Bruiser, now," I tell him, a hand folding around the thickness of his wrist. I begin pulling off a couple of the leads with my other hand, causing Bruce to mumble something under his breath. "I need to ask you something, and it's kind of important," I chance a look at his face and it is scribbled with an expression that I have come to try to avoid; curious worry.

"What is it, Bubba?" He asks, pulling a stool over to sit in. He is looking up at me now, his hands folded in his lap. I hesitate for a moment, trying to collect my words. He takes my hands in his, holding them on my lap. The combination of his touch and his Earth ladened eyes put me at an even greater loss for words, so I spit out the first thing that comes to mind.

"Natasha said something to me tonight, and I need to know if it's true," I squeeze my eyes shut, almost too hard. I don't dare witness the look on his face as I continue. He hums for me to continue, squeezing my hands reassuringly. "She asked me tonight if we were a couple, and I told her no, because we aren't, and then she said that you speak of me in a way that lead her to believe otherwise and I guess I've just gotta know if that's accurate," The words spill out of me so fast I don't even have time to choose them, so they are born into the world from my tongue in a mess of syllables and rushed breaths.

When I finally crack an eye open, Bruce is staring up at me with a half cocked smile, a light chuckle falling from his lips. I shoot him a look, one of those 'are you serious' ones where my nose is scrunched up, head tilted to the side.

"So, they got to you too, huh?" He asks with a laugh. He lets go of one of my hands, bringing his up to rub at his brow. He takes both of my hands in his other, like he is once again afraid to let me go. "Tony cornered me and started asking me if you and I were seeing each other. I figured it was because he planned on hitting on you or something, because you know how he is. But what he said is starting to make some sense,"

"What the hell did he say to you?" I shake his arm a bit, the action causing a smile to bloom over his lips.

"After I told him that you and I were not, you know, an item, he laughed and said, "This is the first time I've lost a bet. Guess I'll have to call off the demolition crew,"" Bruce punctuates his sentence with air quotes and I can't help but laugh. The atmosphere shifts when we catch each others gaze mid laugh. Everything going from light and playful to soaked in a new sense of intimacy. I cough a bit to cover it up. "I guess that's the narrative," He lets out a last little chuckle.

"Bruiser," I start, shying away from his eyes again, "Are you sure there isn't anything else here that I'm missing?" He locks eyes with mine before looking anywhere else but I swear I can feel the heat crawling off his hand and up my arms.

"You know, Bubba, this isn't exactly how I imagined this conversation going," He shrugs a bit, hand scratching at the light stubble on his cheeks.

"This conversation?" I question him, leaning a bit closer. He slides up between my knees, eyes still locked on his shoes.

Bruce brings his eyes up to meet mine and there is something in them I have never seen before. A youthful innocence that is just burning bright in his irises.

"You know, Bubba, it's you, it's always been you," He begins, eyes boring into mine, "Since you were nineteen it's been you. You're it for me," His words are dripping with candor and honey. "That's why every single woman I date always ends up being a sort of something. The only sure thing in my world is you." He drops his eyes and in that split second I can't help but snag a glance down at his lips.

My world was cracking open around me. Bruiser, Bruce, the man that I have know for all the years that it counts to actually know somebody is spilling his heart out to me and I can't help but feel like he is stealing the words right out of my mouth- my heart.

I pull my hands from his before leaning forward and grabbing onto the thick material of his lapels and pulling his body closer to mine. I stop pulling, our lips millimeters apart, giving him one final moment to back out and into the life we have been living up until we entered this room- but he doesn't. He stands, cupping my face in his hands before leaning down and capturing my lips with his.

He tastes like sour whiskey and cherries, a deadly mixture that causes me to pull him endlessly closer. Our bodies pressed together, he makes a move to pull me up from the exam table, his hands wrapping themselves in the tendrils of my hair. I could kiss him for hours and I don't know how we have ever stood in a room together before and not been kissing like this. Years of time wasted all because there wasn't a billionaire scientist and a deadly assassin to mettle into our personal lives sooner.

I push him back a bit, a small whimper leaving his lips as we part. I can't help the big, cheesy smile that breaks over my lips before I speak, "As my doctor, isn't this a sort of abuse of power, or something?" I ask him, flirtation laced in my voice. I run a hand over his tie then up to his cheek.

He breaks out into a smile too, "It's a good thing my co-worker Helen Cho is a hell of a doctor," He shoots back at me before leaning in and snagging another blistering his from my lips.

"But she's not a medical doctor," I mumble against his kisses, my smile to wide to kiss him back properly.

"Oh shut up, Bubba," He whispers before pulls away. "Get dressed, we have a party to get back to, and I want to dance with you,"

"You know I would have danced with you, anyway, Bruiser," He watches me get dressed, a small dopey smile on his face.

"It's not about the dance," he hums, "It's about the kiss that ends it."

#bruce banner fanfic #bruce banner fanfiction #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x fem reader #bruce banner x disabled reader #bruce banner imagine #bruce banner fluff #bruce banner friends to lovers #marvel imagine #bruce banner x friend reader

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fanboymickey · 2 years

Text

Harrington’s got her | What’s in a name?

Summary: Reader and Eddie had been high school sweethearts and planned on being together forever. Instead, life had other plans and flipped reader’s world upside down. Now reader finds herself becoming a single mother and possibly falling in love with her childhood best friend, Steve Harrington.

Word count: 1.3k

Warning: Angst. Teen pregnancy. Reader is 19 years old. Vecna and Eddie are both dead. Everything was solved at the end of volume two.

Request: Nope. I had an idea for this and just wanted to write it.

Pairings: Past Eddie Munson x Reader, Steve Harrington x Reader

Writers Note: Hi! Here’s part 5! Sorry this took so long to post, I’ve been super busy as I’ve started back at university. I also had writer’s block which partially postponed the writing process. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy💗

Part 4

You had awoken to the sun shining through your curtains. You felt the warmth of Steve radiating off his body as you laid your head on his chest. You could hear the rhythm of his heartbeat and the sound of his soft snores. You took a deep breath and captured his scent. You couldn’t help but wonder if this could be something you got used to. You quickly pushed that thought to the back of your mind as you felt Steve stir underneath you.

“Good Morning,” He smiled down at you, “Sleep well?” he chuckled as he felt you untangle your legs from his and pull away.

“Honestly, that is the best I’ve slept in months but that could be because I got to use you like a body pillow,” you hesitated waiting for his reaction, “thank you by the way.” You bit your lip.

He smiled, “You can use me any way you need, I’m here to be used at your disposal.” he half-joked. He didn’t want to hide his feelings any longer, and he thought he made that very clear last night when he all but confessed his love for you.

“Can we talk about last night because,” You were cut off by a knock at the door, “Y/N, Sweetie, Your dad and I got an earlier flight home.” Your mom said opening the door and walking into the bedroom, “Oh hi Steve, it’s nice to see you around here.” She gave him a warm smile..

“Hi Mrs. Y/L/N, I was actually just on my way out,” He quickly shoved his jacket and shoes on and looked towards you, “Can we finish this later?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure, why not.” Once he left your room, you fell back into your pillows and sighed annoyed. Why did your parents have to come home early and why did they have to interrupt your conversation right then?

Another month had passed, and you watched the leaves slowly began to change from beautiful greens to vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows as Summer turned to fall. You had been nervous knowing that you only had a little over a month left in your pregnancy and it was becoming abundantly obvious by how you would go on spiels about saving money, taking any extra shifts at work while babysitting on the side, and how much you had begun nesting. You would enlist your friends to help you clean your room and arrange it multiple times until you felt like it would be perfect enough to bring your son home to. You knew that he wouldn’t care or even understand that you were young and it would be trial and error with raising him. He wouldn’t understand that his father wouldn’t be there to help you, but you knew you would be the best mom you could be to him and that you weren’t alone because you knew your friends, who became like your family, would always be there to support you.

You and Steve hadn’t even talked about that night despite hanging out multiple times since then. The further you got into your pregnancy the more time Steve seemed to spend with you, but over the past two and a half weeks Steve had been a little more distant and you didn’t know why. However, things had seemed to go back to normal. Steve had taken you to one of your appointments and now he was driving the two of you back to your house.

“Andrew?” Steve threw out there.

“Like McCarthy? Ew no.” You and Steve had spent the better part of the drive discussing names for your son. You had browsed baby name books multiple times and never found one that you were particularly in love with. You wanted a name that meant something to you and would give your son a deeper connection to Eddie than just sharing blood and his last name.

“Alright,” Steve sighed, “What about Thomas?” He asked as he drove onto your street.

“Are you just naming famous actors from movies?” You looked over at him raising an eyebrow and questioning him.

“Maybe,” he looked over with a smirk on his face.

“You watched Top Gun once and suddenly you want my son to be named after Tom Cruise.”

“Listen, he was also great in Risky Business,” he said trying to defend himself.

“Yeah, ok Steve,” you said through a laugh, “Do you wanna come inside? I own a copy of Risky Business on VHS.” you teased. “We could pop some popcorn, maybe order a pizza and pretend we’re teenagers again for a bit? You know before all the monster hunting and baby stuff happened.”

“Yeah, that sounds really nice.” Steve got out of the car and followed you inside.

“Surprise!” You heard them yell as you walked through your front door with Steve in tow.

“Holy Shit!” you screamed surprised. You heard Steve chuckle behind you, “Oh my god, is this why you’ve been so distant the past two weeks?’ You asked turning to the tall brunette man.

“Yeah sorry about that.” He gave you a smile and scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“Well, thank you.” you gave him a soft smile that made him blush.

You sat on the floral couch in your living room, watching various people having various different conversations. You were surrounded by gifts for your son and patiently waited to open them.

“Hey Kiddo,” you turned to your side to see Wayne, “I hope it’s ok that I got here late. I had a shift at the factory and needed to get in a quick shower.” You leaped up and brought him into a tight hug.

“Oh Wayne, it’s so great to see you.” He chuckled and hugged you back.

“It’s nice to see you too,” he pulled away, “I can’t stay long, but I wanted to give you my gift before I had to leave.”

“Oh ok,” you tried to keep your smile, but you were upset that he was already leaving so soon. Wayne pulled out a stack of letters and a photograph book, “these belonged to my mom- Eddie’s grandmother,” he hesitated, “you know she was the closest thing to a mother that he had and I think she would’ve wanted you to have them.”

You grabbed the stack of letters and photograph book from him, “She really loved Eddie and would’ve loved to have met your son.” He finished. You both had tears in your eyes, “Thank you, Wayne. This means so much to me and I’m sure it’d mean a lot to Eddie too.” You gave him another hug.

“Anytime kiddo,” he hugged you back and softly ruffled your hair when he pulled away, “I think Eddie would also want me to tell you it’s ok to give that Harrington kid a chance.”

“I- what? How?” You blushed.

“Everyone can see how you guys look at each other,” he smiled, “plus he’s looking at you right now.” He chuckled.

You looked back and caught Steve looking at you as if you had hung the stars. His cheeks started to heat up as he looked back at Dustin and Robin to finish their conversation.

Later that night you found yourself wrapped up on the couch with a cup of warm tea and looking through the photograph book from Wayne. You flipped through the pages that were covered in pictures of Eddie and his family, mostly of him, his grandmother and uncle Wayne, and notes written on the side by his grandmother.

You looked up at Steve, who was sitting on the opposite end watching your VHS tape of Risky Business, “I know what I want to name him.” You said confidently.

“Hm,” Steve looked at you curiously with a raised eyebrow.

“Nathaniel,” a smile graced your face. “It was Eddie’s grandmother’s maiden name. She was the closest thing he had to a mother and she loved him so much.”

“Nathaniel,” Steve echoed, “I like it and I think Eddie would love it.” He smiled at you.

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If there’s a cross through your name, it means I wasn’t able to tag you.

#eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #dad!steve harrington x reader #eddie munson fic #steve harrington fic #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington

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loveroftoomanyfandoms · 9 months

Text

Angel of God, My Guardian Dear Chapter 17: Matt

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MINORS DNI)

Story Summary: While speaking at a local school for visually impaired youth, Matt runs into his childhood best friend, with whom he lost touch almost 20 years prior.

Warning/Tags: Phone sex 🔥

Word Count: ~2k of pure porn

A/N: Enjoy some smut, y'all.

Matt sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he sat on his sofa listening to an audiobook he had gotten from the library the previous week. Y/N was out of town at a library conference and he was waiting for her to call.

His book automatically paused as his phone began to ring.

Matt smiled as he swiped to answer. "Hi, angel."

"Hi, Matty," Y/N replied. "How's it going?"

"It's going good. How's the conference?"

"It's fine, just the usual library stuff -- how to deal with difficult patrons, the depressing increase in book banning attempts by morons who've probably never read a book in their life, what to do when you're stuck at a library conference away from your very sexy boyfriend for 5 days…"

Matt grinned. "Learn anything interesting in that last session?"

Y/N huffed out a light laugh. "Actually, yeah, the presenter suggested calling him and telling him how much you miss him."

Matt chuckled, his heart warming. "I miss you too, angel."

He paused, listening for signs of anyone in Y/N's vicinity. "Are you settled in for the night?"

"Yeah, some of the others decided to go out for drinks but I wasn't feeling up to it. It's been a long conference and I haven't been sleeping too well."

Matt hummed. "Well maybe I can help you with that."

"Oh?" Y/N's voice piqued with interest. "How so, Mr. Murdock?"

Matt licked his lips. There had been something else he had been wanting to try with Y/N but the opportunity hadn't presented itself until now. "Remember how I helped you out the last time you couldn't sleep?"

Y/N let out a breathy laugh. "You mean how you made me come so hard my brain went completely blank for a moment? Yeah, I definitely remember that."

"Well, I was thinking maybe we could do something like that… just over the phone."

Y/N gasped playfully. "Matthew, are you suggesting that we have phone sex?"

Matt hummed. "Maybe… if you're interested."

"Oh, I'm very interested. Give me just a second to get situated though?"

Matt moved from the sofa to his bedroom. "Sure, angel."

"Are you in bed?"

"I will be in a minute. I was sitting on the sofa."

"Oh, okay." Y/N paused. "Just for the record… I, uh, I've never done this before, so… apologies if I'm awkward."

Matt shook his head even though he knew Y/N couldn't see him. "Hey, no, it's okay. To be honest, I haven't actually done this either, but it's just like our sexy talk at home, right? Except we'll just have to also tell each other what we'd like to be doing instead of actually doing it."

He grinned and dropped his voice down a register. "Plus you know how much I love the sound of your voice, angel. Can't wait to hear you while you're touching yourself for me."

Y/N sucked in a breath. "Okay."

"Are you settled into bed yet?"

"Uh huh. Oh wait, what are you wearing?"

Matt could feel Y/N cringe over the phone. While yes, that was typically a pretty stereotypical lead-in to phone sex, it actually was a pretty important question since they couldn't see each other.

"Actually I just got out of the shower about 20 minutes ago, so I'm wearing a pair of boxers. What about you? What are you wearing?"

"Oh, um…" Y/N paused as she pulled the covers over her. "A black tank top and black and red plaid pajama pants."

Matt settled in his bed. "Those soft cotton ones you like to lounge around in?"

"Uh huh."

"Mmm, good to know. I like those on you." Matt grinned. "I like them even better on my bedroom floor."

Y/N huffed out a laugh. "Smooth, Murdock."

"Just telling the truth, angel." Matt sighed. "I wish you were here in my bed right now, because you know what I would do?"

Y/N's breath hitched. "Uh-uh, what?"

"I'd cup your face in my hands and kiss you. Love kissing you, angel, thought about it for years before I got the chance."

Y/N let out a breathy sigh. "Mmm, me too, Matty, used to stare at your mouth all the time when we were kids, wanted to know what your lips would feel like pressed to mine."

Matt groaned softly. "God, Y/N, had I known how you actually felt about me back then I probably wouldn't have been able to help myself, would've had to find out what your lips tasted like, both with and without that coconut lip balm on them."

"Good thing you can kiss me all you want now, hmm?"

Matt smiled. "Mmhmm. I'd kiss you breathless then tangle my fingers in your hair and tilt your head to the side so I could move down to your neck. Love to feel your pulse flutter under my lips, angel, have to hold back from marking you and feeling the blood rise to the surface of your delicate skin."

Y/N's breath hitched. "No, baby, don't hold back. Want you to mark me, Matty."

Matt closed his eyes, picturing Y/N whimpering underneath him in pleasure as he tattooed his name in Braille on her skin, soothing each mark his lips left with his tongue before moving on to the next one. "Fuck -- don't tempt me, angel."

"Love to wear your marks on me, sweetheart, know that it's you who put them there." Y/N giggled. "My sexy vampire."

Matt grinned. "Mmm, definitely going to have to mark you up when you get home then, remind you who you belong to."

"Mmmhmm. So what else would you do?"

"I'd slide the hand that wasn't buried in your hair underneath your tank top so I could feel your soft skin." Matt let out a quiet groan. "Used to dream about it when we were younger, sweetheart, what your body would feel like under my hands and mouth if I ever got you in my bed other than to sleep."

"Mmm, and?"

Matt groaned. "The real thing is even better than I imagined. You feel so fucking incredible, Y/N, want you all the time."

He licked his lips as he heard the shuffle of clothing. "Touch yourself for me, angel."

Y/N sighed. "Mmm, Matty, love to feel your hands on my skin, baby, whether you're being gentle and caressing me while we're making love or gripping my hips tight while you fuck me into oblivion."

Matt hissed, his cock starting to stir. "Take your top off for me, sweetheart, want to hear your hand caressing that soft, smooth skin of yours."

He could hear Y/N pulling her shirt up and over her head. "That's my good girl."

Y/N hummed. "What would you do once you got my top off?"

"I'd move down to those perfect tits of yours. First I'd start with the left one, tease it to a peak with my tongue before getting my mouth properly on it." Matt groaned as Y/N gasped out a breath. "That's right, angel, touch yourself for me, imagine those are my hands caressing you."

Y/N's breath hitched. "Mmm, Matty, your hands feel so good on my skin, love the way you touch me."

Matt groaned. "By now I'd be able to smell just how fucking wet you were for me, angel. God, your scent is intoxicating."

"Mmhmm, just for you, Matty. Only you make me feel this way, God , you turn me on so much." Y/N let out a soft moan. "Want your mouth on me, sweetheart, need you."

Matt pulled his boxers down, freeing his cock. "Need my mouth on that beautiful cunt of yours, angel?"

"Uh huh. Feels so fucking good, Matt, God , that mouth of yours is magical."

Matt wrapped a hand around himself. "Mmm, well since you asked so sweetly I'd kiss my way down your stomach while I slowly slid your pajamas down, then when I finally had you naked I'd have to kiss and feel my way down your body one more time before I got to taste your sweetness."

Y/N whimpered. "God yes, please , Matty, want you to make me come on your mouth."

"Go ahead, angel, let me hear how wet you are for me." Matt groaned at the slick slide of Y/N inserting two fingers into herself. "You taste so fucking good, Y/N, could spend hours eating out that beautiful cunt of yours, see how many times I can make you come on my tongue alone."

Y/N gasped. "Fuck, Matt ."

Matt spit in his hand before taking himself once again, the dryness of his hand alone uncomfortable in its friction. "As good as you taste, it's nothing compared to the feeling of being buried deep inside your tight cunt, so once I had drunk my fill of your juices I'd slide my cock through your folds getting myself nice and slick, then I'd ease myself inside you. Gotta start out nice and slow, angel, don't want to hurt you."

Y/N bit back a moan. "Mmph -- fuck. You're so big, Matt, always make me feel so full, baby, stretch me out so good."

Matt sped his hand up. "Your pussy feels amazing, Y/N, like it was made perfectly to fit my cock."

"Feel so good inside me every time, Matt." Y/N sucked in a breath. "Love to feel your cock in me, sweetheart, fucking me so deep, filling me up."

Matt groaned. "Can't wait until you get home, sweetness, miss you so much."

"Fuck, Matty, miss you too, baby, hate not being able to see you, to touch you. Need you inside me, Matt, wanna feel you." Y/N gasped. "Want you to grip my hips tight while you pound into me, make me feel you deeper than ever before."

"Oh, don't worry, angel, gonna stuff you nice and full when you get home, come so deep in that tight wet cunt of yours that you feel my cum inside you for days ." Matt hissed, his orgasm edging closer. "Gonna come for me, angel?"

"Uh huh. Close, Matty."

Matt tightened his grip on himself. "Me too, Y/N. Fuck, you always take me so well, sweetheart, such a good girl for me."

"God -- yes, yours , Matty, always." Y/N's breath hitched. "I'm so close, baby."

Matt pitched his voice lower. "Want you to let go for me, angel, let me hear those pretty sounds you make for me while I'm filling your pussy up with my cum."

Y/N gasped. "Yes , Matt , sweetheart, want to feel it, want to -- Ah !"

Matt jerked himself roughly a few more times, the sound of Y/N crying out his name in ecstasy making him groan as ropes of hot cum shot out onto his stomach.

He could hear Y/N panting on the other end as she came down from her high. "Fuck, Y/N ."

Y/N hummed. "Mmm, love you."

"Love you too." Matt grabbed a few tissues and wiped the quickly cooling cum off of himself. "Feel better?"

"Mmhmm." Y/N sighed. "Still miss you, baby, but luckily I'm just gone for a few more days."

Matt grinned. "I miss you too, and whenever you get home I'm going to show you just how much I'm missing you."

Y/N huffed out a light laugh. "Mmm. Is that a promise?"

"Oh, definitely. You're not leaving my bed for at least 24 hours."

"Deal." Y/N yawned. "I'll call you tomorrow?"

Matt nodded. "Okay, angel. I love you."

"Love you too."

"Sweet dreams."

"Mmm, you too, Matty. 'Bye, baby."

"Bye."

Matt hung up and pulled his boxers up, then lay in bed for a moment silently contemplating before getting up and going to his Daredevil trunk.

He pulled out the small square box he had hidden the day before and ran his hand over the contents, smiling softly before setting it back in his trunk.

He went back into his bedroom as his phone rang once again. "Hello, this is Matthew Murdock."

He grinned. "Yes, hi, thank you for getting back to me. I'm sorry for bothering you, but I need a favor…"

#lotmf writes #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x yn #AoG Masterlist

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