#and felt my heart freeze at the thought of them forgetting their loved ones smile | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

celtic-crossbow · 7 months

Text

All at Once, This is Enough

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader Setting: Alexandria (Whisperers Arc) Warnings: Descriptions of childbirth Summary: Baby Dixon is impatient, an experience you and Daryl will never forget. A/N: I actually love writing Daryl as a dad (or soon to be dad). I think I’ll continue this with little drabbles here and there, but for now, this is the last installment of And Baby Makes Three series

*Click here to be added to taglists.

The door flew inward and bounced off the wall from the force of Daryl’s boot, wood chips flying but it seemed to still be functional. He turned his body to shield you in case of any threats inside, but the one room cabin was empty save for some old, run down furniture. You curled in on yourself with a pained wince, clutching your rounded belly as the muscles tightened and rippled under your hands.

“Tha’ ‘nother one?” Daryl asked, gently placing you on the decrepit couch, Dog lying obediently by your feet. You nodded, breathing through your mouth, slow and deeply. “‘Bout four minutes maybe.” He mumbled to himself. He had no way to time but Siddiq had told him to try. In a rush of movement, the archer tore the old sheets off the bed, sending dust up in a cloud. He glanced at you apologetically while digging the extra blankets out of the pack. You had stuffed the damn thing full, so he could only pray there were things that would be useful.

“I’m sorry.” You sniffled when the pain ebbed away and you had a moment to relax. He was spreading a blanket over the mattress but stopped to look at you over his shoulder.

“Wha’ fer?”

“I begged to come with you. Now, we’re here waiting for Siddiq and what if something goes wrong and Daryl, what if the baby… what if I…” You felt his hands on your face, not even realizing he had moved.

“Hey, hey. Ev’rythin’ s’gonna be okay. He’ll be here soon. Okay?”

Your eyes danced back and forth between his but you nodded and wrapped your fingers around his wrist, pulling his hand to your mouth. Your lips were so soft against his palm. He smiled at you, small but genuine, and moved his hand so he could press a kiss to your mouth before going back to work on setting up what Siddiq said was needed.

He made it two steps when he heard your breathing pick up and then a whine of his name. Glancing at you and then the bed, he came back and kissed your temple while gently lifting you. It had only been about three minutes since the last one.

With the utmost care, he placed you on the mattress with the two pillows to prop you up. His poncho was draped over them to keep any dirt or dust away from you.

“Daryl… it feels like…” You had begun to sweat, even in the freezing interior. There hadn’t been time for him to start a fire yet.

Daryl took hold of your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. “Feels like wha’?”

“It burns.” You hissed. The archer felt his stomach flip and thought he might vomit. He had no idea what that meant or how to help you.

He let go of your hand and patted the back of it before snatching up the radio. “Siddiq.” He heard the static and waited, driving his boot through an old coffee table. He had to start a fire. When there was no answer in the time it took him to break up enough pieces to burn, he pressed the button harder than necessary. “Siddiq!”

“I’m here, Daryl. Ran into some walkers. Tell me what's happening.”

“She’s hurtin’ ‘bout ev’ry three minutes now. Says it burns.” He could have cried when the flame caught so quickly. Jogging back over to you, he started unfolding the second of three blankets. They were small and not very thick but they would cover you and help with the chill. That would do for now.

“Okay. Have you checked her to see if the baby is crowning?”

“Not a doctor, man.”

“Right. Sorry. I need you to look and tell me what you see.”

Daryl felt dizzy. A part of you that he was so intimately familiar with now scared the living hell out of him. He was out of his depth, but he had no choice. You and the baby had to be okay. “Yeah…um, okay… hang on.” He dropped the radio at the foot of the bed and then placed the blanket next to your hip. “Hey, I, uh, need ta look at ya.”

“Help me get these off.” You seemed utterly unbothered, pulling at the soft elastic waistband of the jeans. With a nod, Daryl took over, pulling them and your panties down your legs once you had raised your hips. He tossed them aside and placed one knee on the bed.

“I don’ know wha’ ‘m doin’.” The archer whispered, voice trembling.

“You’re just looking right now, Daryl.” You said between quickening breaths. When this one hit, your fingers dug into the blanket, twisting it, and you threw back your head with a scream. Daryl moved then, a hand on each of your knees, he separated them and reached behind him for the radio.

“I…don’t even know how describe wha’m lookin’ at.”

“Try, Daryl.”

He lifted his other hand from your knee and wrenched your fingers from the blanket, letting you squeeze his hand instead. At least now, he didn’t feel completely useless. Now, he was staring at your poor vagina and trying to think of a way to describe what exactly was going on down there.

“It, uh…it looks like half a peach with the pit still in it.”

“Shit.”

That did not inspire confidence. “Shit? Whaddaya mean shit?!” Looking up, the archer met your eyes, wide and terrified. He gave your hand a squeeze. This was all too insane and he knew if he thought about more than the here and the now, he would lose his goddamn mind. Here and now, you needed him. His baby needed him. He couldn’t think past that.

“I think the baby is crowning.”

“Th’fuck that mean?”

“It means that your baby is going to be born before I can get to you.”

His heart was pounding furiously, his chest literally hurt with each beat. You were looking at him, mirroring the terror he knew was showing naked on his face. His hand trembled as he pressed the button on the radio.

“Tell me wha’ ta do.”

“Daryl.” You cried, barely able to catch your breath while the grip on his hand tightened.

“I know, Sunshine.” The radio remained silent other than static. “Siddiq?” You were repositioning yourself as best you could while refusing to let go of him. “M’gonna kill ‘im.”

“Yeah, do that, but first…could you maybe catch our baby?”

“Wait… wait, wha’?”

You could feel another contraction coming, leaving you very little time to speak. “I helped with Hershel and with RJ. I can do this. Just… don’t pass out.” With a deep breath during the first spasm of the next contraction, you pushed, teeth clenched with a scream brewing behind them.

“Won’ pass out.” He wasn’t very sure of himself but he couldn’t let you down. It wasn’t an option. Daryl moved to the area just below your feet, holding your knees to give you some kind of grounding connection. He was supposed to say something, right? Encourage you? It felt like the right thing to do. You’d surely tell him to shut up if it wasn’t. “Ya, uh… ya got this.”

You fell back, feeling like you got absolutely nowhere. It still burned and the pressure was incredible. “Fuck. Ow.”

Daryl’s thumb swiped back and forth over your kneecap. “Wha’ can I do? Whaddaya need?”

“I need this baby out of me!” You panted, your fingers flexing in the blanket.

“Well, tha’s the endgame, Sunshine.”

You were making a conscious effort to not end up like the women in movies. All “I hate you” and “you did this to me,” especially when Daryl was looking at you with an expression somewhere between worry and that he thought you hung the moon. You couldn’t imagine yelling at him during the most important event of your lives.

Then the next contraction came and it was time to push. Maybe yelling at him would make this easier somehow. It didn’t matter because the pain was unbearable and you couldn’t form words if you tried.

“Yer doin’ great. Holy shit, baby’s right there!”

You wanted to ask questions as you sagged against the pillows, feeling like you got no reprieve before you’re sitting up again to push. Daryl was talking, encouraging you and squeezing your knees until he wasn’t. You had enough conscious thought to miss the contact but then you were being torn in half. You screamed, the pain white hot and new and then the most intense relief that you had ever known.

That angry wailing was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard.

You did it.

Panting hard, near gasping, you looked at Daryl. His eyes were wide and shining, his arms moving to wrap the little bundle in a blanket. He looked so adorably alarmed and lost that you would have given anything to wrap both him and the baby up and hold them.

“There’s a…uh,” he lifted the cord that was still attached and you remembered there was still work to be done but your body knew what to do. Right then, you just wanted to see this little person that you and Daryl created.

“It’s okay. Just leave it.” You reached toward him and he automatically offered up the newborn while a tear rolled down his cheek.

“S’a boy.” Daryl said quietly while you positioned your son close to your chest. Offering up a nipple while careful not to pull against the cord, you were surprised at how easily he latched on.

“Wow, hungry little guy. Definitely yours.” You smiled up at the archer to find him still looking awestruck. “You’re a daddy.” He nodded carefully while moving to sit beside you, blue eyes flickering between you and the baby. “He looks just like you too.”

“Poor kid.” With slow, gentle movements, Daryl brushed a finger over the baby’s soft, light hair before pressing a kiss to your temple. “Yer amazin’.”

“I bet you say that to all your baby mamas.”

“Stop.”

Daryl did not, in fact, kill Siddiq.

Baby Dixon was now a week old. You and Daryl had settled into a routine of such domestication that you could almost forget the dead walked outside the walls. He had turned over anything that needed done around the community to someone else, aside from hunting. He made sure Carol and Michonne were there to help you when he had to go out. People had to be fed and it was winter. It was the one job he couldn’t ignore.

Your eyes opened to the moonlight peering through the window. You propped yourself up on your arms and looked around the room. The other side of the bed and the bassinet were empty. You were alone.

That meant there was only one place Daryl could be.

When you pushed open the nursery door, you found your archer sitting in the rocking chair with your son tucked in the crook of his elbow, talking softly.

“Yer uncle Merle was a real sumbitch but he’da loved ya. Well, after he told me wha’ a pussy I was fer settlin’ down with yer mama.”

“Language.” You whispered around a smile.

Daryl didn’t seem surprised to see you there. “He was fussin’ n’ he only ate a hour ago. Didn’ wanna wake ya so we came in here. M’sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You walked over and brushed back the archer’s hair before leaning on the back of the chair to gaze at your son. The baby was staring intently between the both of you, gurgling and cooing around his fingers.

“He likes stories.” Daryl informed you, never looking away from the tiny bundle. “Keeps ‘im from squaling when he gets changed if I tell him somethin’ new.”

“We should name him soon.”

“Yeah. Lil’ bean ain’t what I wanna saddle the poor kid with.”

You chuckled. “You called Judith lil’ asskicker.”

“Kid eventually got a name.” Daryl stood carefully, holding the baby in one arm while the other reached for your hand. You laced your fingers through his and followed him back to your bedroom. With the baby in his bassinet, Dary wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his side. He pressed a kiss to your temple.

“I think I know what we could name him.”

“Yeah?”

You smiled up at him. “Yeah, I think so.”

Michonne moved around your kitchen, putting together plates for everyone. She and Carol would bring food over to make sure you and Daryl were eating while adjusting to being parents. Carol was snuggling the baby and pointing out which features belonged to Daryl and which were yours.

“Definitely Daryl’s ears.” She laughed.

“Wha’s wrong with my ears?” Daryl gave her a light kick on the ankle.

“Nothing, Pookie. They’re adorable.” Carol smiled sweetly and Daryl flipped her off. You had all just sat down to eat when the hungry whimpers began. “I think this little guy wants his dinner too, mama.”

You accepted your son and sat down on the couch, sliding your arm through one sleeve so you could pull up your shirt without it continuously falling down while he tried to nurse. There was no need to cover up. It was just the five of you. Judith and RJ were at Aaron’s with Gracie.

The baby latched on eagerly. “There you go, little bean.”

“You two ever gonna name him?” Michonne queried. You and Daryl exchanged a knowing look.

“We already did.” The archer noted before sipping from his water glass.

“Well, don’t keep us in suspense here!” Carol beamed, food forgotten.

You smiled at Daryl and he nodded. “Well,” you began while stroking your baby’s cheek. “We’d like to formally introduce you to Merle Richard Dixon.”

Daryl kept his eyes on you but could feel Michonne looking at him. “Fer the brother I’s born with and fer the one that chose me.”

The room went quiet save for the sounds of little Merle suckling away without a care.

When Daryl saw you shift your gaze, he finally turned to Michonne. “Is, uh…is tha’ okay?” There were tears in her eyes with one escaping to travel down her cheek.

After a moment, she smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I think he’d love that.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, watching relief wash over Daryl as well. You shifted Merle to sit upright on your lap with your hand under his chin while the other rubbed his back. “Then it’s settled.” There were smiles and nods shared before everyone went back to eating.

And the baby let out a burp worthy of an adult man.

“Yeah, Merle fits.” Carol teased. The air in the room was lighter with laughter and everything seemed perfect. At least for now, but you’d definitely take that.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon imagine #daryl fanfiction #daryl x you #daryl twd #twd daryl #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon twd #murda writes #Spotify

594 notes · View notes

eddiessluttywaist · 1 year

Text

as if (part 3)

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES

summary: reader isn’t keen to playing the usual games between her and eddie after how she felt sunday night, and eddie can’t stand losing her attention. PICK WHAT ENDING YOU WANT AFTER.

pairing: bully!mean!perv!eddie munson x perv!fem reader

word count: 8,704 words (9,272 total words with the fluffy ending, 9,516 total words with the angsty ending)

content/warnings: swearing, SMUT MDNI (y/n is 18), bully!eddie, mean!eddie, perv!eddie, bully kink (?), dominating, breeding kink, mocking, teasing, biting, dacryphilia, groping, pet names (doll face, princess), degradation, some embarrassment, yearning, menophilia, angst :(((, feelings :(((, fluff(what? who said that?). i think that’s all pls tell me if i miss anything!

a/n: thank you for all the love :( i’m truly so surprised and grateful and just super flattered so thank you!! i hope i didn’t fuck this up by giving it crap endings sobs. i saw some were interested in a bit of a better look into eddie’s thoughts/feelings so i hope those lil parts are good! i’m considering the occasional blurb in the future about them tho so 👀 OH ALSO!! the past week or so tumblr had a bug on their app that cut off the ends of my posts >:( so I’d appreciate it if you could look back to double check you caught the full ending so you get the proper experience! okay i’m shutting up now!

part one - part two

You weren’t as responsive to his teasing that Monday…or, well… just about the rest of the school week so far, for that matter. You blamed your mood drop on his indifference, and the cramping that you assumed was only from this weekend. You had been sure it was just your cervix making its opinions on Eddie known, but then—after your second sugar pill of the week—you got your period Wednesday night. This culprit seemingly just as likely for that aching in your lower abdomen and back. It was welcome evidence that your birth control was working, but the appreciation for its presence didn’t last long with all the cramping and the bleeding. You hated getting your period, no matter how many older women reminded you of your “connection to Mother Nature” and “the beauty of the womb.” It’s messy and painful and almost always broke out your face.

So no you aren’t playing Eddie’s usual games—instead going silent on him or answering in an empty murmur. Part of you worries it’s going to all build up to one particularly heinous act, but he surprisingly didn’t get worse. He only bothered you with the same old stuff more frequently. By Thursday he’s pestering you constantly with his teasing, and his grabbing, and honestly? Just about every trick in his sick little book which were usually tastefully sprinkled throughout the week.

“So you’re not talking to me? Playing hard to get or somethin’?” He whispers from behind you in the lunch line. You grab a saran-wrapped cookie and put it on your tray.

“What? You on your rag or something?” Eddie scoffs in response to your ever freezing cold shoulder. He’s out in the tundra these past couple of days. You make a face and continue moving through the line.

“Come on… don’t fuck me and forget me, babe. You’ll break this ol’ cynic’s heart and I’ll never recover.” He teases with a wide smile, hand placed over his heart before it drops to settle on the small of your back and gradually travel down to cup your ass. He’s pleasantly surprised that you’re not gently nudging him away like you had the last time he attempted his usual lunchtime groping, but something feels different. He glances down as he flips up your skirt only to reveal small shorts in the same pattern of your dark, plaid skirt. Your worst nightmare is bleeding through a light-colored pair of pants or skirt, so you always wear darker clothes on your period, and you trade skirts for skorts in favor of the added coverage.

“What the fuck is this shit?” He scowls, tugging at one leg of the shorts.

“It’s called a skort. We’ve had this conversation before.” You sigh, thanking the lunch lady as she hands you your tray and eyes the metalhead trailing behind you.

She thinks he resembles an abandoned puppy who grew mean and practiced his bite and his bark just to follow after you with his tail between his legs. If she had any genuine interest in connecting with the student body she fed 5 days out of the week, she might’ve made a playful joke about you having him whipped. But she didn’t care that much.

“I don’t think we have.” He grins, wondering if you even noticed you let yourself talk to him.

“You do it every time I’m on-“ You catch yourself almost admitting you were on your period, which would certainly only pull new harassment from him, so you pretend to correct a simple mistake. “In. Every time I’m in a skort.”

He hums disapprovingly.

“Yeah, well… I…” He trails off as you simply walk away from him to your usual spot in the cafeteria. You don’t bother to stay at his table you two reached just for him to finish making some crude joke before ultimately shooing you away anyway. “Okay… or be a bitch.”

He grumbles that last bit, landing into his usual spot at the head of the table. A few of the other Hellfire members are still staring even when he clearly takes notice.

“Can I help you?” He snaps, everyone who had been staring immediately looking down at their food. He huffs, adjusting his position in the chair to get more comfortable and lets his gaze move over to your table. You’re sat so pretty it’s like your image could actually advertise such a crappy plastic chair. The way your ankles are crossed underneath you, book cracked open on the table with all of your attention on it as you sat with your body leaned into the table. Your food was hardly touched due to a pang of nausea that he was completely unaware of.

“You know if you like her maybe you shouldn’t pick on her so much.”

Eddie grimaces at the comment that’s—in his opinion—beyond a disregard for his rank at this table, icy glare on the curly haired freshman. There are panicked faces and soft muttering around the table showing he isn’t the only one taken aback by this.

“I…” the boy falters, putting the spoonful of pudding he’s about to eat back down. “I just mean if… if you like her. I dunno… you’re kinda mean to her, Eddie.”

He eats his scoop of pudding now, his bold words inspiring the wiry one that always sits next to him. Eddie’s burning glance flits over to him now that he’s speaking, his expression remaining unimpressed with etches of frustration in the shadows of his facial features.

“Yeah, which is actually totally weird cause you’re not like that at all.” The brunet speaks in a rapid ramble like usual. “Like, you took me and Dustin and Lucas under your wing cause we were new and weird and alone and stuff like that—no, I know Lucas has been ditching Hellfire for the jocks, but anyway— you’re always talking back to those asshole jocks—which is totally cool—so I don’t get why you’re not like that with her.”

“I’m sorry, I must be confused.” The man spoke with sarcastic interest, a sinister smile breaking out onto his face. “Are you two talking to me? About something that is, quite frankly, none of your business?”

The two boys look at each other, the nerves shared between them tangible. Eddie raises a brow and tilts his head when they face him again. Still silence. Mike swallows anxiously.

“Well?” He sneers, flicking some of his trail mix at them.

“Sorry, Eddie…” They say in unison as he chews slowly, staring them down. He rolls his eyes as his body slowly relaxes again in his spot and he glances at you again. You were at least breaking off pieces of your cookie now, still reading your book.

“She’s not new or weird or alone anyways. She’s always with the smart kids.” He states, before holding up a hand as his gaze returns to the pair. “Not that I’m inviting you two shitheads to stick your noses in my business.”

The freshmen, along with a few others at the table shift to look over at you. You’re still engrossed in whatever you’re reading and you looked miserable, even if you were enjoying a good book. You look tired.

“Dude, literally no one is interacting with her. There’re the Jacobson twins talking at one end—probably still fighting over what’s the right answer to the equation from algebra class (it’s zero, by the way). Then there’s Richie and Greg from advanced calculus. Some people I don’t know…” Dustin mutters that last part before continuing, “And yes technically speaking there are a few girls sitting with her, but they’re not even talking. They probably don’t even know her.“

Eddie stares him down, the conversation still on you burning away at something inside him. He doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want to talk about you or how lonely you look. He doesn’t want to talk about inviting you over. And he certainly doesn’t want to talk about how mean he is to you, cause he has no interest in trying to break down the intricacies of the crossover between bullying you and fucking you. Especially to freshmen.

“Just saying.” Dustin finally sighs in defeat, clearly getting no response from the DM sat at the head of the table. “But seriously, tugging on a girl’s pigtails cause you like her is completely grade school.”

Eddie had figured that having sex would change things between you two, but he imagined it changing for the better. Things like fucking you in the janitor’s closet or in the back of his van in the parking lot. Feeling you up between classes. Being so fucking mean to you all day until you were all wet and needy for him by the time that final bell rang.

He certainly didn’t imagine this.

At the start of the school week, Eddie didn’t entirely notice your lack of participation. Just that something felt… off-kilter in your interactions. It had been on Tuesday night that he realized nothing felt right because you weren’t glaring at him or shoving him away or pouting up at him. You didn’t even turn your head when an object was flicked at you, you just kept your eyes on the chalkboard.

Now he isn’t particularly well known for his critical thinking with… well… anything other than music, DND, and—subsequently—the math that came along with both hobbies. And, of course, selling drugs. So it’s somewhat understandable that poor Eds didn’t even realize what caused the imbalance for a whole day or two. Once he realized it though, it only frustrated him further. It irritated him that you weren’t playing the game, and it irritated him that it bothered him so much in the first place.

Why aren’t you snapping back at him? Why are you ignoring him, and if you even do look over: why was it always with a sad glance? Why, when he toyed with your skirt on Monday did you tilt your head to the side and quietly ask him to please leave you alone? When he saw you first thing Monday morning with circles under your eyes that were barely disguised by drug store concealer; Why, when he leaned into you as he passed you in the hall with a quiet “Something keep you up last night?” Did you only give him a passing glance with lips pressed together in what might’ve been an attempt at a small smile just to fall flat with that dull look in your eyes.

Being how he is, his game plan had been to keep bugging you constantly. Wear you down until you were finally glaring or giggling or whining, and everything could be back to the way it was. Maybe you were just suddenly playing hard to get. Being a teasing brat who would eventually have a smirk sneak out so he knew you were toying with him, and he could make you pay for it later. That smirk never quirked up your lip though. You were still such a rainy cloud drifting through the school.

The little twerp got to him at lunch today, too. He wonders now if maybe you were sick of the way he acted, and realized you want deserve someone a little less inclined to pigtail-tugging and a little more open and romantic. But why now? He thought you enjoyed it all. That’s why he wasn’t expelled already. That’s why you fucked him and called him for more. Right? Sitting in his van instead of attending the last class of the day, Eddie rubs his hands over his face and lets out a frustrated groan. He feels something crucial missing in him at the fact that he’d rather pull teeth than drop down his smug and playful demeanor even for a second and show you that he’s yours.

He noticed you were pretty when you were a sophomore, but not much else. Now in your senior year with him, god—you aren’t even pretty. You’re fucking devastating, and he knows his methods of showing affection aren’t something that will stand the test of time. You’ll grow tired and fuck it, he’d be living up to that Munson name if he has to see you with someone else—probably wind up serving time right alongside Pops after leaving some guy in the hospital. So maybe there were tweaks to be had. Even if he’s bitter and reluctant about it. (And did I mention bitter?)

Eddie pulls his hands away from his face at the faint sound of a bell, letting the side of his head fall against the window with a solid thunk as he awaits the crowds of students rushing out of the school.

You’re passing by others on your way out of the building, just as relieved as everyone else to be going home for the day—not that your excitement showed. It’s more of a calm relief to be heading to your room again than everyone else’s bubbly enthusiasm to make plans for the rest of the day. (When they should be getting their assignments done after all it’s not Friday yet, you think, but maybe that’s just because you evidently have no life.)

Making your way through the parking lot, a loud horn makes you jump. Your eyes wild and your heart up in your throat, you look around until you spot Eddie laying on his horn with his tongue partially sticking out off to the side. He lets up the second you lock eyes and laughs.

“Need a ride? Gotta couple of good options.”

You huff, trying to ignore his filthy innuendo and shake your head. He groans, settling his head back against the head rest of his seat while you start walking away.

“What the fuck is your problem? Jesus fucking Christ!”

You keep walking, hearing his car door open and the sound of his sneakers on the pavement. His car buzzes irritably at its door being left open while running, but he doesn’t care. You’re sure he doesn’t care about anything, really. He rests a hand on your shoulder to turn you around.

“’m just not in the mood, Eddie.” You snap the second you’re facing him.

But you’re always in the mood, he wants to argue as if that made a difference right now. He lets out a long breath that puffs out his lips as he decompresses, arm bent up to rub his hand on the back of his neck. It’s evident that he’s not used to this, and doesn’t have a clue how to go about it. You eye him in that moment, waiting for him. Waiting for something that made that ache in your chest dissipate and the hole it leaves be filled with a light warmth. Then you’re ready to give up on waiting for something that clearly wasn’t going to happen when he suddenly dips down and drapes you over his shoulder all in one fluid motion.

“I- Eddie-!“

“I- Eddie- I-” He mimics, clearly out of habit and opens the back door to his van to plop you right on top of a random cushion nestled inside. It looks like it’s just a single couch cushion and you wonder where he got only one. Is it from an old couch that was getting tossed anyways? Did he steal it? Who steals a singular couch cushion from the seat of a sofa? And what was that stain on the corner? You’re shifting away from it as he climbs in after you, the tip of his tongue peeking out of the corner of his lips again until the door is shut and he’s settled against it with a sigh.

“Yoo-hoo.”

“What?”

He scratches his jaw as he looks over at you then points at the stain you were avoiding.

“Yoo-hoo. The drink. That’s what the stain is from.”

“Oh… okay.”

Eddie lets out a heavy sigh, his eyes going wide as he fights the urge to roll them while he stares up at the ceiling of his vehicle, and then he finally speaks up again.

“Why are you being all…” He gestures his hands out in a odd way, flopping them a bit before settling them on his legs again. He sighs, tilting his head down and looking over at you again. “I don’t fucking know… you’re not being fun this week.”

Your nostrils flare and your brow creases with a pulse of rage at his words.

“Oh I’m so sorry that I’m not playing your game, Eddie. For your information, yes—as you said so elegantly before— I’m ‘on my rag’ and don’t exactly feel like dealing with you.”

Despite the tone you’re taking with him, a grin is pulling at his face and a few laughs bubble from his chest that were almost like little amused giggles. God, he missed getting you all worked up.

“What? Never got it before?” He suddenly questions.

“I- What?”

He snickers.

“Your rag. The crimson tide. Never ridden the cotton pony before?” He’s having too much fun with this and your face is getting all hot.

“Cause I kinda doubt it. Y’know…” he gestures to your form, “The idea that you haven’t gone through puberty yet sounds fake to me, sweetheart.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well you’ve never acted like this before so unless this is your first week of Carrie...” He hisses an inhale through his teeth.

“My condolences, but look at it this way: You’re finally a woma- hey!” He’s laughing until he’s dodging the random work boot you toss at him—the sight of him scooting away from the projectile actually getting a giggle from you.

“Those ‘r for the garage, doll. Heavy duty shit, can’t be throwing those.” He chastises as he waves the shoe at you, but there’s a weight that’s lifting from him. He got you to just sit and talk to him, and even made you laugh. Even if you’re biting the inside of your cheek now to try and refrain from giving him the satisfaction of your smile. How are things like this right now? Shouldn’t he be bending you over his knee for not acting the way he wanted you to? Shouldn’t he be angry? Shouldn’t he be making you cry?

“I’ve gotten my period before.” You state simply. Eddie puts the boot down, dropping his head back against the interior of his van as he looks at you expectantly.

“Then what? What’s with the bitching and the ignoring and the crybaby shit?” He asks bluntly, making your brow furrow again.

“And not even the good crybaby shit,” he continues in a softer tone as he makes his way over to you, “Where’s my pouty girl, huh? Where’s my brat?”

My. My. It’s making your head swirl, his words and proximity putting up a good fight against this latest impulse to be cold to him. He’s settled in front of you and pulling you forward by your hips.

“Don’t wanna talk about it…” You murmur because he should know. He should’ve automatically known the second he left your room that he fucked up when he didn’t kiss you.

“No? Do I gotta bully it out of you, baby? Should I keep up with what I’ve been doing or are you gonna keep pissing me off with that silent treatment shit if I do?”

Watching your expression, his hands settled on your hips start to massage his fingertips in small circles against your lower back. A sigh falls from your lips before you can even stop it, melting from his touch. He’s massaging that spot that’s been tied up in knots the past couple of days, and taking care of it perfectly. Just when you think he’s suddenly a completely different person he stops the movements entirely. That familiar pout that he loves pulls at your lower lip, clearly disappointed by the loss of his kneading.

“Gonna tell me?” He coos, tilting his head.

Your lips part then close again, faltering on if you should just tell him. He mimics the motion then your pout before grinning at you again. You stay quiet, a new conflict arising inside your head. Should you just tell him and move forward? Should you let him suffer until he figures it out? He deserves to suffer in your book, but who knows how long it would take for him to realize. The man has failed his senior year twice already.

“No? Okay, doll.” He’s separating himself from you now, moving to a corner of his van to start digging through some random stacks and piles there.

He’s going on about how he’d help if he could, but he guessed that won’t happen now. How if only you’d cut lil’ ol’ him a break. His theatrical and bitter words are coated in a soft tone and playful, exaggerated sighs. He’s having all the fun in the world trying to tease you until you just sigh and admit whatever your major malfunction is. It’s lighthearted in comparison to his usual teasing, but even this starts bringing the tears forward.

You hate that he doesn’t know. That it clearly didn’t mean enough for him to notice. You hate that he pulls you in all smooth and sweet to get you intoxicated on him just for him to laugh over it and leave you alone again. You hate how he’s suddenly making you feel cared for just for him to go away again cause he isn’t getting what he wants. Now you’re desperately trying to hide the fact that you’re crying as all of your feelings and aches and pains of this week rush through you.

Sure, he’s seen you cry before but it was never like this. It was teary eyes from frustration or, recently, the occasional sob from how good he made you feel. It’s never been breaking down after a hard week. It’s never sobbing because after all this time the two of you finally cracked, and you’re scared you’re the only one increasingly enchanted every passing second since that first kiss. It was never hiccuping sobs that you were doing your best to push down. Your face is burning, your sight blurry even though tears kept rolling down your cheeks. It’s like there’s a never ending supply to stream down your face and still keep your vision bleary.

“Jus’ sayin’ we could be doing something way more fun right no…w…” He trails off once he finally looks over at you.

He’s holding an unopened pack of cigarettes he had been looking for in his typical mess and pulling out his lighter, but now all his focus is on the way you’re sniffling and shaking. You’re still sat on that cushion, knees up and a hand settled over your mouth with your head turned away from him. A heart-wrenching sob just barely sneaks its way out before you choke it back down. Little huffs are escaping you in a desperate attempt to breathe without letting your need to wail break free. It feels like your lungs are on fire.

“Y/N…” Eddie says in a tender voice that you didn’t think he was even capable of. You shake your head.

“Y/n c’mon…” He tries again with a small, nervous laugh. Nervous you were serious. Nervous that he really made you so upset. Nervous to really show that he cares if he did.

“It’s okay, really-“ Your voice is higher than usual, another heavy breath puffing out before you try to drag it in again just to end up whimpering as another wave of sadness comes over you and you’re too overwhelmed to hold it in. You stay facing away from him as you cry and hiccup, trying to get it back under control.

“I just- it’s stupid, it’s n-ot that big of a deal.”

For Eddie, making you cry is all about the glossy eyes and pouty lips as you stare up at him defiantly or a sign that you need him to quit playing games and fuck you. It’s never been this… brutal. Panic continues to rise in his system, and he’s unsure of how to handle the situation. Once upon a time, he thought he treated you the way that he did because some sadistic part of him liked to always make you hurt, but it was becoming evident that he just liked the play. The banter. The shoving and the glaring and pouting and the wandering eyes. When he acted the way he always did and you didn’t respond or did so in a quiet plea for him to really stop or really cried—it made his stomach clench. The more he tried to keep it up this week the more he realized that when you weren’t playing along he just… he was just mean. Really mean. Not “you’re so awful, just fuck me already” mean, but “you’re making me miserable” mean. And fuck if he didn’t hate the way that felt.

“Is it really that bad?” He murmurs, partially surprised by his own voice when it sounded this gentle. The thin plastic around his cigarettes crinkle under his nervous hands. And he thought he needed a smoke before. “Did I hurt you? Or-or somethin’? Do you need to go to a doctor?”

“No.” You weep, still refusing to look at him and it’s killing him even if a part of him knows he would crumble if he sees how you look right now. God, he hated this. The vulnerability of caring openly and to this extent, but what else could he do? Double down on his usual behavior and kick you while you were already so down you might as well have been sinking into the pavement?

“Y/N, please-“ He tries again and you crack completely.

“It’s just not fair because I thought I wanted this, but it’s to-oo hard. You don’t care enough to stick around. Y-You don’t check in with me. You’ve pushed me around for the past two years and I’m an idiot who thought it was all lighthe-hearted deep down, a-and that you wanted me too.”

You break down into tears again until you put yourself back together just enough so it’s only the constant sniffling and your voice trembling that’s interrupting you. All Eddie can do is stare at you with big brown eyes like saucers while you babble, his brow frowning as he anxiously picks at his fingernails and the skin around them.

“A-And of course I got my fucking period cause why wouldn’t I? Cause why would I catch a break? N-N my body aches and I’m so tired and you… you couldn’t… you didn’t…”

“What?” He’s shuffling a bit closer now, lowering his face like he always did to catch your attention. He was right that seeing your face like this would cave him in, and he wishes he could be dropped into a black hole. He knew he deserved it. At the sight of your current state, he was pulling that smoke he already had his fingertips on and placing it between his lips. He lights it and inhales deeply before letting his hand drop down, cig between his fore and middle fingers, ring finger toying with a tear in his jeans.

“You…” You let out a breath before dropping your gaze to your hands in your lap, tears still slipping down your cheeks and over your jaw to wet your neck and dampen the collar of your top or drop down and land on that skort he hated. “You wouldn’t even kiss me on Sunday…”

You sound horribly deflated at the admission, and his eyes flicker all over your features before the smallest twitches of the corners of his lips start to tug them up even though his eyes hold a sad sort of infatuation within them.

“You kissed me on Friday, but not once on Sunday. And you didn’t even seem to care…” You mumble, glancing over at him once and then twice when you notice the curve of his lips. Your eyes burn with a potential for new tears. “Are you fucking smiling?”

“No—no, well, yeah. Not like that.” He huffs out an anxious laugh. “I just… you ignored me… cause I didn’t give you a kiss..?”

You scoff, lips parted and gaze furious. He is unbelievable.

“Among other things! I-I… ugh! You’re infuriating!” You announce and his brows shoot up, grin widening with interest and he brings his cigarette back to his lips.

“You… you make fun of me constantly. You fuck me and finish in me and don’t even spend time with me after. The least you can do is kiss me. Or… or…” You huff, which was becoming a theme today.

He can’t help but find you cute when you’re angry. You remind him of that temperamental pixie in that old animated Peter Pan film from the ‘50s. He used to babysit a young girl in the trailer park who watched it constantly (much to his chagrin).

“Or you don’t get to have me anymore.” You conclude, and he just keeps staring at you with wild eyes as he smokes.

Your anxieties peak and a voice in your head is screaming to get out of the damn van, even when he’s just casually puffing on a cigarette without a hint of irritation on his face. Eddie lets the cig stick to his bottom lip as his hands find your form to pull you closer to him. His right hand raises to place the smoke between his middle and forefinger, and remove it from his lips. His left hand moves to hook his thumb on your lower lip and part your mouth for him to plant an open-mouthed kiss on you as his smoke floats around you and in your mouth, his tongue hot on yours. The pamphlets your parents gave you about the dangers of cigarettes popped up in your mind as his smoke fills you. The statistics and pictures of smoker lungs mean nothing to you as he kisses you like this.

You’re more than just warming up to the smell you usually couldn’t stand, and you find yourself back where you were on Friday. Willing to take whatever he gives you. As long as he kept kissing you like this. As long as he kisses you like he plans on making you his wife while he fucks you like he’s your high school bully. The kiss is all tongues and muffled moans, your arms wrapping around his neck. You chase after his lips when he finally starts pulling away. An involuntary whimper slid from you as you look at him with heavy eyelids.

“If you want something…” He trails off in a whisper, keeping his half-lidded eyes on you even as he reaches over to tap off ash into a cheap plastic tray. His thumb and pointer finger pinch your chin to keep your focus on him. “You ask, okay? Pretty standard rules, princess.”

“But…”

“But now,” He cuts you off with a soft sigh, head tilting as he looks at you. The eye contact is becoming so intense it’s burning through you. “Now I know this is important for you, ‘kay?”

You’re surprised by this. Honestly you’re shocked by every kindness and touch of patience he provided you today. You would have never guessed Eddie Munson is even capable of such a thing. You nod with your gaze retreating downwards, toying with your hands and he chases after your stare with a tilt of his head to try and get you to look at him again, brows raised up.

“Doll?”

You wipe at the cooling streaks of tears on one cheek with your shoulder then finally look up again, and nod with more confidence this time.

“And…” He looks almost like he’s in pain for a moment before he finally continues “‘m sorry, okay?”

“…Really?” You murmur, eyes wide with shock.

“Yeah.” He huffs out a laugh. “Don’t act so surprised. I’m capable of an apology, given the right circumstances.”

You eye him, silent with hesitation and shock.

“‘N the right girl.” He murmurs with a soft voice even though he had that shit-eating grin on his face. Why is it always so charming? It’s smug and teasing, but always so endearing.

You don’t know what else to do so you just kiss him. You pull him in by his shoulders and kiss him. You kiss him like you could devour him, body and soul. His arms circle around your waist after leaving that partly-smoked cigarette in the cheap ash tray and drags you closer all while kissing you back. He’s leaning down to place you on the scratchy carpeting and hover over you. Any break for air is short-lived before you’re back on each other. Your hands tangle in the messy curls draping around your head, tugging to pull a groan from him.

“Fuck…” He sighs into the kiss, dropping his body down to put more of his weight on you. He parts from your lips despite your whiny protests and presses kisses and nips to your jaw as he works his way to your neck. His arms unfurl from around your waist so his hands can settle on your hips and let his thumbs massage into your skin. You’re pawing at his vest as he works on leaving a love bite on your pulse point below your ear, and—surprisingly—he moves away to shake the jacket-vest combo off and drop it beside you. You eye the fit of his t-shirt and it makes your mind fog up.

All your focus is on the shape of his tummy against the fabric. The way the material sticks to him and shows all the harsh angles of his toned chest. The fact that he had cut off the bottom hem of his top and when he moves the right way you can see that trail of hair on his lower stomach. The shape of his arms under the sleeves. Does he work out? Considering his lack of discipline, you couldn’t imagine him having an exercise regimen, but dear god. His arms weren’t absurdly cut, but they were still thick with enough muscle that his sleeves seem a little tight. You can see the veins of his forearms and the blown out ink on his skin. When he’s on top of you again, sucking on your neck, you let your hands drag over his back and sneak underneath his shirt. The heat of his skin and the moving musculature alone making your toes curl. You’re happy to have him on you, but you wanted that damn shirt off too. You’re grasping at the fabric and pulling it up, gasping when he bites on your neck for doing so.

“Take that shit off-“ You huff, making a smile tug at his lips.

“Using my lines now, doll?” He purrs once he’s raised up again and grasping behind his head to pull his shirt over it. You can’t even think of a smart reply, your brain short circuiting at the sight of his naked torso. Even though you enjoy it, you never really understood his urge to bite. You sure do now. You shift from laying on your back to sit up in front of him while he remains raised up on his knees. Your hands slide up his stomach, feeling the goosebumps that raise in the wake of your cold fingertips. He’s still for once and you bring your hands back down to pull on his belt, fighting against the stiff leather to slide it out of the buckle.

You’ve never given head before, mainly because the only time there was an opportunity it had been with a guy you didn’t even like that much who kept trying to push your head down while you were kissing; but you felt feverish with thoughts of Eddie’s dick down your throat. While rushing to go down on him was the last thing you had on your mind at the start of your day, after he was so sweet on you, you were desperate to taste him.

Eddie’s breath is staggered as he watches you undo his jeans, his pupils all blown out. He can’t even count how many times he’s fantasized about those lips wrapped around his cock, but he knew after everything that he didn’t deserve to go first. Fuck, he wanted to, but he doesn’t deserve it. Belt open and slack and jeans undone, he grabs your hands to pin them over your head once you were pushed back onto the floor and he leans down to kiss you. One hand holds the side of your face and the other is pulling the zipper on your hip down, muttering a you first against your lips.

Before tugging at your skirt skort, Eddie pulled away again to lift your shirt off. He grew irritable for a moment with the long sleeves that fought him, tossing it aside harshly with a grumble that made you giggle. That gentle laugh was the only thing that lightened his mood again and encouraged a small smile before he continued. He kisses down your body, giving you the occasional bite. There are little things that he does along the way that make parts of you feel beautiful—parts that you either don’t pay attention to or even aren’t fond of. It’s an odd thing considering how mean he always is, but he seems to show a devotion to each and every inch of your skin that wouldn’t occur to most men. The way his hands slide along your sides as he makes his way down your chest, giving you the occasional squeeze. The way his arms slip around your midsection and bring you closer to his face with a press to the small of your back, smothering his face between your breasts still covered by a flimsy, lace bra—breathing in the scent of your skin. The way his hold relaxes as he continues down, just to squeeze you to him again when he finds a new spot he wants to smother himself in. One side of your tummy underneath your ribs. The slight rise of your lower abdomen beneath your belly button. Your hip bones.

You’re so drunk on his touch at first that it doesn’t even occur to you where this is leading until he’s already face-to-face with the center of your underwear.

“E-Eddie- no-“ You squeak out suddenly. “Not that.”

He lifts his head to eye you curiously and with surprise at the denial of getting head, lips parted in a question that you interrupt.

“I’m on my period, remember?”

Eddie half-jerks his shoulder up in a careless shrug. “Yeah, I know. So?”

“It’s just… it’s so messy and bloody. I wouldn’t even want you to eat me out right now if I was still mad at you.”

“Doll, c’mon…” He groans while pressing his face into your inner thigh—not to try and convince you to give consent cause he doesn’t care about this boundary, but rather to show how badly he wants to do this. That he doesn’t care about the mess and he doesn’t think it’s gross, in fact he found it hot. If you were sitting in his bed or in his passenger seat and got your period, his perv ass probably wouldn’t even try to remove the stain.

“I want to.” He insists, pulling away again to look up at you. “I think it would be so fucking hot. It’ll help the pain, princess.”

You consider the offer for a moment, wondering if he’s right. If he could make you feel so good that he’d reach and clear out those aches and pains that Tylenol couldn’t even touch. You still shake your head, the thought of all that blood on his tongue and the smell in his nostrils making you nervous and embarrassed. He groans again and dramatically flops into your stomach to hide his face.

“Not with your mouth.” You clarify, cheeks all rosy.

At that, he finally raises his head with a raised brow and his bangs all messy.

“Oh yeah?”

He’s sitting up now, settling back against folded legs as he raises your legs one by one to take your shoes off and toss them randomly. You tilt your head to watch one sneaker smack the back of the passenger seat, then look to the side to watch your second sneaker smack into the interior with a vibrating clunk. After taking off your shoes, your ankles are lightly settled on his shoulders and he has his hands wrapped around your calves as he tilts his head to press a kiss to the inside of one ankle. Then he’s moving to bite the inside of the opposite knee.

After that, he skips right back to your lips, your legs parted to settle on either side of him now. Eddie hooks his fingertips into the band of your underwear and pulls them down, having to begrudgingly separate enough so you can bend your knees up to your chest while he tugs them off your legs. He’s about to casually pull on the string of your tampon when you shake your head quickly and clasp your hand over your entrance.

“I’ll- I’ll do it.” You murmur and he’s (once again) groaning irritably.

He wishes you wouldn’t be so sheepish about it. He can understand the experience of your period not being the most comfortable thing in the world, but he doesn’t know what he has to do to show that he likes it. That he wants to go down on you and wipe that mess off of his face with pride, therefore not needing to look away at your insistence while you take out your tampon. Maybe it’s his pride in being a freak. Maybe it’s a slight twinge of superiority, knowing that he was one of the few guys that would even offer in the first place. Maybe it’s that breeding kink flaring up at what he saw as a glaring reminder that you could possibly get pregnant with his kid. Maybe it’s just the fact that it’s you. But he lets you do it yourself, holding in his usual attitude for the sake of your sensitivity for once, then leaning back down to kiss you the second you give the okay.

The kiss doesn’t have as much of an apologetic gentleness as the others, but it was passionate and it was hot. The heavy breathing and groping and spit; the taste of cigarettes and mint; the scratch of slight stubble and the bump of his nose against yours. Eddie shot a hand out to feel for his jacket which he promptly crams under your tailbone to raise your hips, then dips his thumbs in the band of his exposed boxers to pull his pants and boxers down. (He didn’t take them off completely per usual, but you took getting him shirtless as your win).

Eddie pulls away just enough to wrap his hand around his cock, giving it a few good tugs before leading it to your entrance. He keeps an eye on your expression, plunging into you the moment his tip slid in. The few times he’s fucked you, you were always so messy and wet and warm, but this was enough to sign his soul away. You were soaked with arousal and blood as expected, but he wasn’t prepared for how much puffier you are like this. And so fucking hot. You mewl at the sensation, a dull ache in your lower abdomen at the start, but it’s slowly dissipating. Maybe it’s the association between blood and pain, and menstruation and pain, but you genuinely thought this would hurt more than usual—you certainly weren’t betting on your heightened sensitivity. Even that first stroke slipping into you lit up your nerves.

“‘S good, right?” He asks with a cocky grin, left hand wrapped around your right thigh and his right hand sliding over your tummy and slowly massaging the area.

You almost don’t want to admit it, but you do with a nod and pouty lips that have pathetic little whimpers slipping past them. Eddie slides back out a couple inches then pushes back into you, your toes curling as a bit of blood and arousal gushes and sputters out around his base. You curse under your breath, encouraging him to proceed. He’s uncharacteristically tender, and while seeing his sweet side today was a pleasant surprise—you just wanted him to fuck you.

“Eddie-“ You breathe out.

“Hm?”

“Please just fuck me.”

His grin is devilish and his gaze is fiery. He snaps his hips forward once without wasting a second, threatening to making your eyes roll back.

“Yeah?” He leans down, his voice a condescending whisper as he stays infuriatingly still while this deep. “My baby come cryin’ cause ‘m too mean? But she still wants me to bully her little pussy?”

You whine and nod your head, his following thrusts nearly punching the breath out of your lungs. His hand rests over your pubic bone and starts rubbing at your clit as he fucks into you. Your head lolls back into the carpeting, breasts bouncing with his efforts.

“Such a good fucking slut for me. This pussy all mine?”

“Uh huh-“ You speak in a whiny moan, hips weakly pushing forward and he takes the hint.

Eddie pulls you forward by your hips and holds you close to him as he gives you breathtakingly shallow thrusts. Your eyes begin to water from the way he’s moving inside you and his thumb is brushing on your clit. His other hand parts from your hip to grip onto the center of your bra, pulling it down to free your breasts and to keep a steady grip on you by the fabric clasped around your chest.

“Eddie-” You sob, and an earth-shattering sense of relief blows through him, leaving him temporarily wrecked before settling again like a gust of wind pushing up bird feathers before they smooth out again. Finally seeing those globs of tears in your eyes in the way he loves brought that balance back, and he’s doubling his efforts. Your lips part and your back arches up off of the carpet of his van, those wet streaks leading from your eyes back into your hair just like they were on Friday.

You’re counting your blessings that you aren’t back in your bed with your parents down the hall during your make up session because even the fear of being caught wouldn’t have been able to stop the moan that gasps from your lungs when you cum around him. All the tension and hormones and yearning of this week mixing with the overpowering pleasure he’s giving you, all culminating to this very moment and making you see stars. You feel like you’ve been temporarily shoved under water, all of the sounds around you muffling—even the sound of your own breathing. Just as you’re floating back up to the surface, Eddie’s leaning down to place his lips on yours. His large hands cover both sides of your face as he’s kissing you like he means it, only letting his hands part from your cheeks to wrap around your midsection and scoop you up while he sits back.

“Fuck-” You breathe out, hands settling to cradle the back of his head. You’re sure you look as disheveled as you feel. He thinks you look incredible.

“I know right?” He teases, all smug even in this quieter tone of voice and he laughs when you smack at his arm.

He eyes you from where his face is level with your chest, watching the playful irritation melt from your expression as he starts thrusting up into you. You’re almost too overstimulated from him moving so close to your orgasm that was still pulsing in the aftershock, but fuck if this doesn’t feel too good to pause even for a moment. Eddie wraps his arms around you to finally unclasp your bra and fling it towards the front of his van, metal hooks clinking against the hard surface of his dashboard. His hands smooth over your back, groaning against your skin as he smothers himself between your breasts again, fucking up into you. You start bouncing on top of him to meet his thrusts, whimpering quietly at the fluttering still rippling through your walls. You still have that palpable pulse inside you, squeezing around him and making it incredibly difficult to not cum before he can get you to let go at least one more time.

“C’n you cum for me, doll? Gimme one more?” He finally separates from your chest to look up at you again and while you were always the one looking fucked out, when you look at him you can’t help but feel like you’re seeing him the same way. A faint shine to his doe eyes glossed over with lust, that rosy tint to his cheeks, and the swell of his pink lips. You nod, but your hips buck in disagreement when his touch is back on your clit. It’s admittedly too soon, your eyes burning with prickling tears as the pleasure jolts through you like shocks of electricity rather than rolling waves—but you certainly weren’t going to ask him to stop.

You gasp out his name, fingers gripping the hair all damp with perspiration at the nape of his neck. You feel like you’re vibrating and the cramping in your stomach nearly makes you break and ask him to stop nudging at that sensitive bud. Your nails dig into the back of his neck, hearing him groan against your skin, feeling his hot breath on your chest. The two of you are moving like the universe would simply unravel if you stopped—as if it isn’t already unraveling in this moment.

“Oh my god-“ You moan and Eddie’s sinking his teeth into your breast—partly to punctuate his claim, partly to muffle his own sounds as he unloads inside of you.

You’re trembling in his lap with soft sobs in the aftershock of probably the most heart-stopping, all-consuming orgasm you’ve ever experienced. Even the slightest touch to your flushed skin sent shocks throughout your nerves and made you cry out, so Eddie stays still.

When both of your hearing is clear again, and you swallow to bring some moisture back to your throat—you let out a small laugh. It isn’t malicious or mocking. It rose up out of pure joy and relief and (honestly) a bit of surprise at everything that’s happened. And it all happened so quickly, you aren’t sure if your memory was able to keep up. God, you hoped it was. You want to relive it every time you close your eyes at night.

Eddie’s licking his lips and pulling back to look at you, a few laughs of his own bubbling up. Like always, he isn’t quick to pull out, but he does set you back down onto the carpet and press a few kisses to your jaw. His hands are pressed into the floor on either side of your head, pulling up his upper body to look down at you. Your hair is messy around your face, and streaks of mascara are all muddled around your eyes and down your cheeks. He put all of his weight on one arm to allow his other hand to raise up and swipe at those black streaks with his thumb before settling back down to kiss you, one arm still pressed up and bent at the elbow and the other settling his forearm on the rug.

The kiss is slower, but still sloppy with exhaustion. He pulls back one more time just to smile down at your face and ends up right back to kissing you seconds later.

The sun is setting in Hawkins and the two of you are all over each other until you realize how late it had gotten and your lips might as well have been ready to fall off. But even when you’re dropped off at home with excuses ready, he still climbed in through that bedroom window to keep kissing you once everyone in the house retired for the night.

After all, you finally left it unlocked and he couldn’t stand another week out in the cold.

Eddie never did work up the nerve to properly ask you what you meant by that blunt reply that one Autumn day... ↓

CLICK ON YOUR ENDING OF CHOICE:

fluffy ❤️

angsty 💔

taglist: @mynameismothra @angelina16torres-blog @tlclick73 @elvendria @psychospore @daisyridleyyyy @sidthedollface2 @kelsiegrin @swiss-cheeze @darknesseddiem @magnificantmermaid @hazydespair @bonehead-playz @stephanie-nicks76 @madaboutjoe @homiesexual-or-homosexual @neobanguniverse @prestinalove @galaxyfxcs @canyonmooncreations @hereforshmut @ediewentmissing @sadest-bookshelf @harlowsgirl @damon-loves-pie @stardustmunson @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @bitchyseawitch @littlered0000

*note: if you requested to be tagged and you’re not there it’s because tumblr’s saying your acct doesn’t exist 🫠

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #bully!eddie munson #mean!eddie munson #perv!eddie munson #stranger things x reader #as if eddie munson #stranger things imagine #as if eddiessluttywaist #as if part 3 #as if part 3 eddiessluttywaist

1K notes · View notes

flowercrowngods · 11 months

Text

day 07: free space a happy ending

Wakefulness embraces him so slowly and gently that Steve’s not entirely sure he isn’t dreaming when he sees Eddie lying next to him, watching him with an easy smile as his fingers tap out a slow beat on his pillow. Steve looks at him, blinking away the remnants of sleep, not quite daring to do anything more than that for fear of it being a dream after all, scared that Eddie would disappear if Steve reached out to touch.

But then Eddie’s smile widens. “Good morning, sunshine.”

Steve gasps a little and moves his hand to Eddie’s cheek, tucking a few strands of hair behind his ear, his breath hitching when Eddie leans into the touch.

“You’re here,” he whispers, his gaze wandering over Eddie’s features, taking it all in and looking for any indication that this is a dream.

Eddie hums. “And you’re pretty.”

It hits him out of nowhere, the open sincerity in Eddie’s voice, the fondness in his eyes, the honesty in everything about him. The love, open and free now — or getting there, at least. It’s still so raw, though, so new, that Steve doesn’t know how to handle it yet.

“Shut up,” he huffs once he’s caught his breath, rolling over to hide his face and the way his cheeks are heating up. He rolls right into Eddie's chest, though, and he's so warm, so close, smells so good that Steve wants nothing more than to bury his face in his neck and stay there for the rest of the morning. Or maybe the rest of his life.

The reflex to pull away is there. The urge to run and hide, to laugh it off, to freeze up and find something else to do, something to occupy his hands and stop them from reaching for Eddie. Years and years of muscle memory telling Steve to leave.

But Eddie's arms come around him, holding him close and pulling him even closer. And Steve breathes him in, remembering that it can be okay. Remembering that they get a chance now.

Remembering the words.

What are you doing?

Changing the world.

So he tries that, too. Changing the world. He tries by winding his arms around Eddie, too, and breathing in again and again, learning that Eddie won't disappear if he does.

Slowly, he dares to move his arms, stroking along Eddie's back in slow, gentle patterns, lulling himself into a safety he hasn't felt in a while. Maybe ever. At some point Eddie begins to hum, and Steve thinks that it's just another one of his audible smiles, inviting Steve and the rest of the world to join in if they're so inclined. But then he detects a familiar melody in the vibrations of Eddie's neck against his skin, and he holds his breath to find out what it is.

His heart jumps when he recognises the song as one he used to listen to on repeat like a lovesick fool around the time his feelings for Eddie turned into something more, something better, something infinitely worse.

It skips and he forgets how to breathe as he lets his hands travel over Eddie's back, slowly and tentatively daring to slip underneath his shirt and touch his skin.

Eddie begins to sing, then, and Steve wonders if he's even been in love with him before, because nothing of what he's ever felt compares to Eddie's gentle, hoarse, sleep-rough voice as he sings Somebody to Steve, to their little bubble, or to the world outside.

"I want somebody to share, share the rest of my lifeShare my innermost thoughts, know my intimate details."

He closes his eyes as he listens, focusing on the vibrations, on the warmth, on the closeness, on how this moment is everything he's never even dared to want. Everything so perfect that he couldn't even dream it up.

Everything. You're everything.

He needs to be closer still, so be buries his nose in Eddie's neck and breathes him in, tangling their legs, filled with a breathless kind of joyful bliss when Eddie's breath hitches, too, and he stumbles over the words of the second verse as Steve tries to climb into his skin.

"I want somebody who cares for me passionatelyWith every thought and with every breath."

You have me, Steve thinks, pressing his lips to Eddie's pulse point. It's not a kiss, not quite. It's something deeper. It's a promise.

Eddie's hands come up to hold him there even as his voice carries through the drumbeat of Steve's heart in his throat, running fingers through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp, making him purr along to the melody.

"But when I'm asleep I want somebodyWho will put their arms around me and kiss me tenderlyThough things like this make me sickIn a case like this, I'll get away with it."

When the song ends, Eddie's words faded out, replaced once again by the gentlest silence, Steve feels raw. Vulnerable. Open and exposed. But he also feels safe, and loved, buried in Eddie's skin and held there, as though Eddie is just as scared of fading away as Steve is.

He lifts his head just slightly, enough to meet Eddie's eyes – only to find that they're closed, an expression so serene like Steve has never seen before. Mesmerised and overflowing with affection, he reaches out to trace the line of his brows, down to his cheeks and all the way to his lips, where his eyes are glued for a second.

The thought of kissing Eddie is right there. The opportunity is, too. But he doesn't. He barely dares to move as it is. But he does roll them over the rest of the way until he lies comfortably on top of Eddie, and tucks his head underneath his chin, finding one of his hands and lacing their fingers.

"You've got him," he breathes eventually. "That somebody. If you—“

"Yes," Eddie says, his other hand finding its way to the nape of Steve's neck to play with his hair again. "I want."

"Good." It's lame; far from what he wants to say. From what he has already said last night. It feels like they're doing this backwards, starting with the I love you and catching up with the slow build-up afterwards. "Good. Me, too."

"Good," Eddie hums, and there's that smile again that Steve can't help but mirror.

They fall asleep again like that even though it’s already late in the morning; cuddling and holding and cradling each other, still trembling slightly. Maybe that's what changing the world will do to you. Maybe that's the bravery more than the love.

Or maybe it's just Steve and Eddie. Steve and Eddie. SteveandEddie.

I love you.

~*~

It takes a bit for Steve to relearn loving Eddie. To not associate it with tragedy and sadness and a bone-deep loneliness that'll leave him breathless even on the best of days.

It takes a while for Steve to learn a whole new kind of breathlessness, a whole new kind of aching when it comes to Eddie.

And Eddie's not much better than Steve, pulling away when Steve wants him closer, swallowing his words and needing a second, third, fourth try until he learns that he gets to love Steve now.

Years of unrequited love, or feelings unreturned, of words put out into the universe with no one to receive them, are not easily or quickly unwritten. But every time Steve's breath gets lodged in his throat and he wants to run away, Eddie is right there to remind him of what they can have now. Every time Steve tries to be a little less of who he really is, Eddie is right there to coax him out of his head with gentle touch and a lot of hugs.

Every time Eddie starts to doubt himself and all the ways he makes Steve the happiest person on the planet, Steve is right there with the words he only has for Eddie. Words that don't get stuck anymore. Words that finally get a recipient.

~*~

Their first kiss, the first real kiss, doesn't happen that first morning. They spend the first week only holding each other, barely wanting to let go, hiding their vulnerabilities within each other.

Steve is worried about it at first, seeing Eddie so quiet, so reverent, lacking his usual cheer, his energy and snarky comments. He asks about it one night, ready to prove right that he isn't and can never be enough for him, that all he will do is steal the things that make him Eddie.

Eddie stops then, lifting Steve's chin with a finger when he's too scared, too ashamed, too vulnerable to meet his eyes on his own accord.

"Stevie," Eddie says, his voice so gentle that Steve immediately feels stupid for doubting. "I have loved you for ten years. I've had you for three days. Let me bask in it. Let me be unable to be myself with how absolutely and utterly overcome I am with the knowledge that I have you now. That I get to hold you. That I get to kiss you and keep you and... God. I'm not unhappy. I'm so much the opposite of that that I'm not sure there's a word for it. Other than devoted. Smitten. Bewitched, body and soul."

Steve wants to kiss him then. Almost does, with the way they're just staring at each other, breathing the same air —air that smells like Eddie now. In the end, Eddie just holds him, brushing a kiss to his cheek, his forehead, his temple, and whispers, "Let me bask in it."

And so they do.

Wayne called Eddie not long after with the words, "Chrissy just told me the wedding's off. Please tell me that means what I think it means."

Eddie just blushed, reaching for Steve, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. "Yeah, I, uh. I finally talked to Steve."

There was a very loud cheer on the other end that made Steve laugh, falling into Eddie's side, holding him tight, a weight falling off his shoulders knowing that Wayne was okay with them.

You know, I always figured it would be you.

No matter what happens, you'll always be a son to me.

It made his eyes sting again, but he basked in the moment and in the knowledge that Wayne was on their side. Always has been, always will be.

"You better come here on Sunday, and bring Robin and Chrissy, too."

"Robs and Chrissy?" Eddie asked.

"Oh, you're in for a treat. I'll see your asses on Sunday, boys."

And with that, he hung up. Steve immediately went to call Robin, hopeful and giddy with Wayne's implication, knowing that Chrissy was Robin's person just like Eddie was his.

"She loves me," Robin said, on the verge of tears, and Steve joined here right then and there. "She's– Steve. She's so– She... God!"

"Yeah," Steve laughed at the ceiling above his bed, grinning because Robin sounded so happy, not even caring that she didn't have the right words for it, because he could hear Chrissy laughing in the background, too. Laughing and saying hi to him and interrupting Robin's ramblings and groans and giggles with kisses that always left her dumbstruck for a good two seconds each time.

When the call ended, he went right back to the living room, where he and Eddie started watching Pride and Prejudice before, and fell right on top of him with a happy, happy smile.

~*~

It happens at Wayne's, exactly one week after Eddie showed up at Steve's in the middle of the night. One week after the phone call. One week after I love you.

It happens in the soft glow of the fairy lights Steve and Eddie helped him put up years ago. I happens after Wayne hugged him tight once more, after he pulled Chrissy to the side and promised her that she's still his kid, that he still loves her, and that he's happy to see her smile like that. After he promised the same to Robin.

It happens when Wayne's inside to refill their drinks and Chrissy and Robin are caught up in each other that they're blind and deaf to the rest of the world. When Steve turns to find Eddie looking at him with the softest, gentlest expression.

"Eddie," he whispers, leaning in to rest their heads together, lacing their fingers and stroking his thumb along Eddie's palm.

"Yeah, baby?"

Baby. It fills him with butterflies, with the urge to scream, to shout from all the rooftops that he loves Eddie, and more importantly, that Eddie loves him back! Baby. Baby.

"I love you."

"Hmm. I love you more."

No, you don't. Just longer. "Can I kiss you?"

He can feel Eddie's little gasp before he leans in even closer, rubbing their noses together, cradling Steve's face with his free hand. "Please," he whispers.

And Steve does. He captures Eddie's lips, pouring into it everything he feels and more. Sealing the promises he's made and all the ones he's yet to make. The promises to love and cherish Eddie. To be brave. To be there. To stay and keep and bask.

It's nothing like their first kiss all those years ago. There is no question behind it this time. Only declarations, only promises, only the beginning of a shared future.

And there are many, many more after this one.

🌷🤍🌷 THE END 🌷🤍🌷

tagging: @sexymothmanincarnate @mcneen @livsters @eddiemunchondeeznuts @abstractnaturaldisaster @steddie-as-they-go @hyperfixationgoddess @goodolefashionedloverboi @stxrcrossed186 @eddiemunsonswife @bidisastersworld @ghost-ly-s @romanticdestruction @walkingaftermidnight07 @anaibis @rainydays35 @mightbeasleep @sunfloweringstories @korixae @tuesdaycats @totoroinatardis @ilovebookshowboutyou @musical-theatre-gay @theluckyalien @copingmechanizm @srra @changelingbaby @sassygoop @obsessivelyme @r0binscript @hardboiledleggs @estrellami-1 @bisexualdisastersworld @space-invading-pigeon @swimmingbirdrunningrock @y0urnewstepp4r3nt @oxidantdreamboat @spilled-jar @phirex22 @littlemsterious @captaingigglyguinea @animecookie95 @sharingisntkaren @haluton @littlemsterious @animecookie95 @suddenlyinlove @bisexual-bilingual-biped @jinx-nanami @makewavesandwar @scheodingers-muppet @morcantinon @hexdbog @homosexualhomocide13

god i can't believe it's over. i thank you, every one of you, who cheered for me, cried with me, screamed and yelled at me, and stayed with me throughout this past week. i have no words right now other than thank you 🤍🌷 and i hope this is okay

#steddie #steddie fic #steddieweek2023 #steddie week fic #i feel like this one's a bit disjointed but i kinda like that about it?? little snippets that make a happy ending you know??#idk i hope you like it too (i always get anxious about endings tbh catch me vibrating out of my skin)#dio words #i cannot believe it is done. i cannot believe what a ride it's been. i'll find the words for it later i think. first we read. and we bask 🤍#morcantinon i am ENDLESSLY sorry i forgot to tag you even after you sent that wonderful ask please forgive me 😭🤍#i also forget a bunch of people who asked in the reblogs but dear god i hope you find this anyway i am all over the place #i will edit this and work in more chrissy/robin when i post it to ao3. but this is steddie week. and these are 15k words of an au #that happened spontaneously and within 2h each night of me flying by the seat of my pants. xD

995 notes · View notes

gr7mes · 8 days

Text

GLITCH “we were supposed to be just friends.” carl grimes x fem!reader

tags: a little bit of angst but mostly fluff, has mentions of death, lowercase intended!!

a/n: kinda based on glitch by taylor swift. this is my first fic so i apologize if it’s bad!!

it was never supposed to end up like this. oh no, not even remotely close. when you first arrived to alexandria, with your jagged cuts and discolored bruises scattered across your body, majority of your hope was lost. all of the important people in your life seemed to just fade away, and you couldn’t do anything about it. you would spend your days sat beneath a tree, idling away the hours reading your beloved comics. you enjoyed the isolation, it provided you with a slight sense of comfort. that was the case until one particular day. you made your way over to your special spot, freezing in your tracks when you saw him. carl grimes.

he was sitting with his back against your tree. you never really talked to the boy, only spoken to each other once, which was when you first arrived. he was friendly and seemed like a nice kid, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to talk to anyone. the fear of getting attached and losing them in the end made you shudder every time you thought of it. you quietly sat down next to him, not uttering a single word. he looked up from his own comic, shooting you a smile along with a “hey.”

it became a daily occurrence, sitting down next to whoever came first. you two started to talk more, bonding over your love for comics and random things you had in common. you started to open up, a stark contrast to how you normally behaved, and over time a meaningful attachment to each other blossomed. carl knew and noticed everything about you, from your favorite color down to how your nose lightly scrunched when you felt the slightest bit of discomfort. he brought out a side of you that you thought was gone long ago. he’d changed you for the better, and you were extremely grateful.

at some point however, you started to feel a certain way around carl. you tried to push it away, told yourself you were just being silly. but you knew deep down how you really felt. you had feelings for the pretty boy. hell, you were practically in love. you told yourself he would never reciprocate the feelings, and tried to forget about it, but it was oh so hard when his arm would brush over yours while walking, when he looked at you with his eyes that resembled the blue flames of a restless fire.

“oh come on! it was one time.” you say, giggling at carl’s joke while walking alongside him. “sure, we’re just gonna forget about all the other times you fell on your face because you don’t look where you’re going.” he says playfully, nudging your shoulder while smiling. you felt your heart skip a beat, and tried to hide your flustered state. there was a short silence between you two before carl’s footsteps came to a stop. you look at him, eyebrows furrowing with confusion.

“what’s up?” “i- there’s something i haven’t told you.” he says, lowering the volume of his voice. “which is..?” you say, slightly fidgeting with your hands in anxiety, thinking of all the possibilities of what could come out of his mouth. could it be he wanted to stop hanging out? he wanted space? surely you did something to upset him. negative thoughts ran through your mind, you spacing out in the process. “i like you.” he blurts out, instantly breaking your trance. “huh?” “i said i like you. i really like you.”

it felt as if you couldn’t breathe, the words not coming out of your mouth. you were simply taken aback. carl grimes likes you? he must be joking. “i- is this a joke? it must be. you’re really funny carl, seriously best joke of the ye-“ he cuts you off by smashing his soft lips against your mildly chapped ones. he cups your face with his cold hands, the feeling of his lips upon yours felt like a dream. it didn’t feel real, as if it were a glitch.

your lips were locked on each others for what seemed like ages before you two had to pull away to take a breath. carl took your hand in his, rubbing circles onto your palm as you two made eye contact. “believe me now?” he says, smiling as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “hmm, not quite. think i need a round two.” “smart girl.” he says before leaning in once again.

@p1stach1oss saw first <3

#carl grimes #carl grimes x reader #the walking dead #twd x reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes angst #carl grimes fluff

73 notes · View notes

lovelypham · 9 days

Text

EYES DON'T LIE

ʬʬ prompt:where you were invited to your best friend's birthday party only to realize how jealous you'd get when seeing him with others girls,little did you know he felt the same way about you ✎wc:458 ✩⡱pairing:non-idol!bestfriend!jake X fem!reader ˳೫˚∗warnings: jealousy,fluff,kissing,confessing, mildly suggestive

╰┈➤song recommendation:Eyes don't lie-Isabel LaRosa ✩⡱

╰┈➤

As you watched Jake,your best friend for more than 5 years who was also coincidentally your crush for the past 6 months,effortlessly indulge in yet another conversation with a girl at the bar, a sigh escaped your lips Despite knowing it was his own party and you didn't have any excuse to limit him from talking to girls,a feeling of jealousy tugged at your heart strings.

hesitantly agreeing to come after Jake quite literally begged you, you found yourself tucked away in a corner, sipping your probably ninth drink of the night,while shooting daggers in his direction. Laughter and music filled the air, and while everyone was having a good time you weren't.

When another girl got a bit too comfy with Jake, you decided to escape to the peace the unoccupied pool outside provided. The summer breeze messed up your hair, and the alcohol in your system blurred your thoughts as you stared into the night sky.

✦⋆𓆩✧𓆪⋆✦

Suddenly, Jake showed up beside you, his presence bringing you both comfort and nervousness. "hey__" he murmured, his voice low while saying your name. "you seem a little distant. everything okay?"

You hesitated, caught off guard by the way he knew you so well "yeah, I'm fine," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant"I just needed to get some air I felt suffocated inside"you replied in an awkward tone

Jake leaned in closer, his eyes searching yours in way that made your heart beats race. "Are you sure?" he whispered, his breath warm against your freezing skin.

You swallowed a lump, feeling exposed under his gaze. "honestly, I'm just... feeling a little sick," your voice carrying uncertainty

A smirk tugged at the corners of Jake's lips as he leaned even closer, his lips touching your earlobe. "so you're not jealous,huh?" he murmured, his voice sending shivers down your spine you gasped and then quickly denied his allegations saying "what are you talking about jake?" . he said one thing "Eyes don't lie,baby"

Your breath hitched as Jake's words sent a jolt of electricity through you. Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a heartwarming kiss. It felt like the world around you faded away, leaving only the burn of his touch and the pounding of your heart

✦⋆𓆩✧𓆪⋆✦

After you pulled away, both of you breathless he sighed and said"i was only talking to so many girls because I wanted to forget about you, we always promised ourselves to never date or catch feelings for eachother, because we believed it'll ruin our friendship"

you looked to your right to catch a glimpse of his face only to find out he was already staring at you

you took his hands in yours and layed them on your lap and with a comforting smile you told him "that's what i told my self too jaeyun, but love can't be hidden like any other emotion ,I've had a crush on you for as long ask i can remember and I always shrugged it off but I can't handle seeing you like this anymore" he then tightened his grip around your hands and replied with" do you wanna maybe be my girlfriend? " you quickly said"yes! omg of course jae" you then kissed him again but unlike the first kiss this one was hurried but still as meaningful as the first one

✦⋆𓆩✧𓆪⋆✦

you suddenly heard loud cheering and screams, only to realize your friends have been watching the whole thing from the start

˳೫˚∗

(note: this is my first time writing an actual fic so please go easy on me😭😭, I'll gladly take any constructive criticism of any kind just no hate💗)

this is all fiction and not meant to represent any mentioned idols as they are in real life

©lovelypham works 2024

#enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #jake sim #kpop bg #kpop icons #sim jaeyun #kpop fluff #jaeyun fluff #enhypen jaeyun #kpop fic #enhypen fluff #kpop moodboard #lovelypham:works #viralpost #sim jake #jake enha #enha #enhypen #enha imagines

78 notes · View notes

0yuri-chan0 · 7 months

Text

~Love less Nights~

Guys, Guys- okay okay listen hear me out! Just once! So Simon Petrikov from Fiona and cake. Listen this man might be old but he is fucking MHMMM! Delicious. So Ima make a fan fic about him. Yes, yes my followers are at my mercy. I totally get it but come on.

Paring - Simon Petrikov x F! Reader

Warnings - I'm to lazy to write them (Sorry)

Genre - NFSW

You and Simon were sitting on your front porch it was a month after Betty got infused with that creature only lord knows how that happened. Prismo a man you heard mentioned once in your life by Simon doesn't want to help get her back or can't. You didn't really push for more details. The wind blew gently when you looked at Simon, he looked hurt and devastated who wouldn't be? He had lost the love of his life a month ago. "It felt like my heart was ripped apart, My soul locked behind glass as I watched her be ripped apart from me."

Is what he had told you the night Betty was mangled with that horrible creature. The same night he walked up the very same steps you two are sitting on watching the sunset in silence. The same night he told you what had happened with tears streaming down his face, as you hugged him. Your fingers gripping the fabric of his Suit trying to get impossibly closer.

You'd never seen Simon in that state in all your years of knowing him. You'd never think you'd see that side of him the desperate side. The side that wants pity but at the same time doesn't. You think he'd rather be hated than pitted at this point. You knew he was near his breaking point. He was like a kid that got thrown into the deep end of the pool, and you weren't going to watch him sink.

You folded your hands into your lap with a small frown. It was getting cold and you knew Simon was still thinking about her, Betty. "Simon." You pause before looking up at the pink-ish orange-ish sky. "We should go inside its getting cold out." You said grabbing his hand gently. "And your freezing." It was true he was freezing, he was shaking like a leaf so to speak. You stood to your full height and walked into your house Simon following closely behind. "I could had saved her, Betty I mean." You sat down at the dinning room table Simon sitting across from you as he spoke softly. "I could had but I didn't I let her push me away and get trapped." His voice was raw you moved your hand and set it on top of his gently. Your eyes soften as you spoke in a caring voice. "She wanted to save you she cared Simon." His gaze met your only for a moment. But you could tell there was something more he wasn't telling you. You moved from your chair and sat in the one next to him.

You lifted his chin up with a soft smile, you wanted to be gentle its not like you always had hidden feelings... Right? "I'm here Simon, your okay now." Its was all friendly it wasn't like you were going to take advantage... Your train of thought stopped as he looked into your eyes. Hes so so very fragile, the look he gave you was so sadden. You couldn't help but lean down and kiss him. Both of your hands cupping his face. It's wrong you know its wrong. But it felt to good you always found him attractive in ways others didn't. You felt guilty for doing this to him.

Of course you felt guilty for kissing him who wouldn't? He lost the love of his life a month ago. Your brain stoped for a minute when he kissed back. One of his hands resting on your thigh when you pulled away. "If you allow me." You looked him in the eyes. You were sure your cheeks had turned pink by now. "I want to help you forget, even if its just for a minute." A nod was all you needed, and a nod is what you got. You stood up and grabbed his hand and led him to your bedroom. "I'll be gentle alright?" Simon felt your hands run up and down the sides of this torso. As you made your way to the bed you both took off each article of clothing.

He took a long breath and looked away from your naked form before laying on the bed. You moved and grabbed your strap and lube. "I haven't done this in... A while." Simon looked away embarrassed when he admitted that. You offered him a gentle smile which he gladly took. You placed a good amount of lube on your fingers, then entering two digits into his hole. His body jerked at the new feeling your digits scissoring him well enough to fit your strap inside of him. "Jesus! [Y-Y/n]!" He gasped as you brushed against his prostate. He was sensitive and the noises he made where adorable. You finally removed your fingers and lined up your strap to his hole. "Tell me if you want me to slow down or stop." You said sliding your silicone cock into him causing him to moan loudly. Your hand next to Simons head as you looked down at him with a low hum. You started moving your hips. Meeting his with a plat, plat, plat noise. And god was his facial expression was lewd.

After while you started to slam into him. Not enough to entirely break him but enough to make him enjoy it. His mind was unraveling by the second. All he could think of was the pleasure you were giving him. His hands clenched the sheets this didn't go unnoticed by you. It encouraged you to get deeper you picked up his leg and placed it on your shoulder so you could get a better angle. "H-Hah! I-Im going to cum!" He knew you acknowledged him when you hummed. Your hand moving to his cock stroking it at a steady speed you didn't want to overwhelmed him. Tears pricked into his eyes but oh you weren't done. You stop for a moment taking off his glasses and setting them on the nightstand. "What are you doin-!?" Before he could finish the question you flipped him over. Pushing his face into the pillow while he arched his back. You moved faster your fingers gripping and tangled into his curly hair while shoving his face down. The pillow staining with tears as he reached his climax. You rolled your hips one last time before he came.

His legs gave out on him, as he dropped to the bed you smiled satisfied laying next to him all he could mutter out from being extremely exhausted was a small 'thank you.' "Your welcome anytime Simon."

Guys its like 5:23 am and I wrote this y'know how you can't sleep if you're thinking of something. This was it I'm proud of it so.. Yeah! Request are always open unless stated otherwise. (Edit: guys so I made a part two✍ it's nothing dirty, just went into more detail about the night you comfort Simon👍)

#simon petrikov #adventure time #simon petrikov x reader #fiona and cake #simon petrikov x betty grof #Betty dies

195 notes · View notes

ravereina · 1 year

Note

Hi, can you do a (fic?) scaramouche x camgirl!reader where they know eachother in art class (highschool AU)

Ily and your posts!!<33

(Its okay, if you're not comfortable with writing this)

WHORE!

I LOVED THIS OMG OMG IM SO SORRY IF IT SUCKS THO I RUSHED IT A LOT!!

Contents: Blackmail, Dubcon, Degrading, Shy reader, Mean scara as it goes on.

ALL CHARATERS IN THIS ARE 18+

The bell rang snapping you up from your daydreams you were having about one of your friends, Scaramouche. You've always been curious about him, sure you both were friends but you always felt that there wa so much more to him than you knew.

You rushed to your last period of class which was art. You almost instantly sprang up remembering that he was in your class and that you both sat next to eachother. You walked into your class spotting Scaramocuhe facing the window. His face resting in his hand.

"Hey Scara!" you said taking a seat next to him. "Hi." He replied with a cold tone. A slight tint of blush covering his face "Huh? are you ok Scaramouche? You seem really flustered." You said with a hint of concern in your tone. "I'm fine. Its just really warm." He muttered grabbing some art supplies and working on a drawing.

You simply ignored it working on the drawing that the teacher instructed you to work on. Suddenly you broke the tense silence.

"Did something happen scaramouche? You can always tell me if something happened." You put your hands on his arm trying to comfort him. His heart swelled at your words.

He smiled softly "Lets walk to my house. I'll tell you there ok?"

You eagerly nodded your head. Constantly checking the time till school ended. As soon as the bell rang you almost shoved everything in your bag and waited for him at the door. You guys walked seemingly to his house. He stopped to open his front door,

Wondering what could be so important that he had to tell you in secret.

“I’ve seen them, Your videos.” He walked closer towards you. Your face drained pale. Thoughts racing through your head.

"H-huh? What videos..?" You tried to play dumb, Although Scaramouche saw through the poor facade you put up.

"Dont play dumb, Doing filthy things for other people." He sneered pressing in front of you as your back hit the wall. “I won't show anyone if, you let me fuck you.” He smirked. Eyes piercing into yours.

"Hu-Wait W-Wha." You tripped over your words.

“You don’t really have a choice love, Unless you want the whole school to see some of your lewd videos.” His gaze made you feel trapped and bare to him. “I wonder how the college you wanna go too would react too this.” That statement made you freeze.

"Wait scaramouche no! don-" He cut you off.

“You should think twice princess." He said, His hands caressing your shoulders trailing down your body so soothingly it made you almost forget about the situation you were in. He slowly fondled your breast throughout your shirt, rolling your nipples through his fingers.

He removed his hands from your body whining at the los of touch. "Strip." He spat removing some of his clothes. You rushed to take some off. You tried to cover some parts of your body that your undergarments couldn't cover.

"Don't be shy love, you don't seem shy showing your body off to strangers now do you?"

He said against your neck. Slowly biting and sucking your neck. Trailing down towards your breast. “Bet people tell you all the time about how pretty your body is.”

He said looking up at you for a response.

“M-mhm.” you hummed. As he shoved his hands into your panties to remove them and softly rubbing your clit. "God, you're soaked" Slipping his fingers into your cunt.

"What a whore."

He spat, Your cunt clenched around his fingers. "Heh, someone liked that, didn't they?" He teased. You shook your head out of embarrassment, trying to deny the obvious. "Scara.. come on, please." You begged. "Please what love? Tell me." He cooed.

"Fuck me please scaramouche. Need you." You pleaded loudly.

He chuckled, leading you on the couch. "Go on your hands and knees love" He ordered you. You followed his command almost instantly.

He aligned himself to your hole and slowly pushed in. You winced at the pain when he finally bottomed out. "You can move now." You whispered under your breath but just enough for him to hear it.

He started thrusting fastly into you. The only sounds hard from the room was the intense sound of skin slapping and panting coming from both of you..

"You dont know how l-long I've wanted to fuck you." He groaned pulling your hair, forcing you to arch your back.

" 's too much S-Scara!" You squealed, tears welling up in your eyes from the mix of pleasure and pain "Quit your whining bitch. You can take it." He mumbled gripping at more of your hair to hold on as he harshly thrusted into you.

"It's s-such a shame that others have seen your body, but none of them will e-ever be able to feel your tight pussy around me. He said almost smugly. ,"N-No one else! Yours Scara!!" You spewed.

"Thats fuckin right. You're mine. M'gonna breed you and keep you as mine."

The statement made you clench around him. "F-Fill me up S-Scara!" you moaned. Choked sobs emerging from your throat from him rubbing your clit.

Feeling your orgasm reaching you squealed and shut your eyes. "C-Close please,please" You babbled incoherently till you felt your orgasm crashing down upon you. Feeling him release inside of you with a grunt.

#scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x reader smut #scara x reader #this isn't as good as my other fics </3 #reina's asks!

706 notes · View notes

jflemings · 3 months

Note

Prompt 1 w jflem plzz

— mine

prompt: 1 “you are the best thing that’s ever been mine” from this post

a/n: my fav taylor song w jflem oooooo anon you are my best friend!!! also so funny that i was already working on a ‘mine’ fic for jess but that’s a whole diff thing xx

georgian bay glistens as the sun sets on the horizon, the last of it’s rays painting the sky with blues, oranges and pinks. jessie almost can’t believe her luck.

she’s got her arm around you as an attempt to fight off the chill breeze nipping at your faces, her nose turning pink from the cold. your face is tucked into her neck and both of you are holding one end of a blanket that’s wrapped around your shoulders. the scenery almost makes her forget why she brought you out here in the first place, the sight so breathtaking that it’s somehow distracted her from one of the most important things she’ll do in her lifetime.

almost.

jessie’s grip tightens on her end of the blanket as her heart rate speeds up, the sudden anxiety washing over her like how the waves would smother the rocks at high tide in burleigh heads. she thinks back to her time in australia fondly, but her thoughts always came back to you and how she felt sitting near the water watching the sunset with her arm around you, similarly to how the two of you are sitting in this very moment.

she doesn’t really know why she’s nervous because she knows your answer. the two of you had talked about marriage plenty of times before and every time you assured her that when she decided to ask, the answer would be yes.

you sigh and sit up “we should start heading back, i really don’t want to make your mum wait for us”

jessie shakes her head “i told her we had dinner plans. she’s not expecting us”

a puzzled look crosses your features “we have dinner plans?” you ask “you didn’t tell me that”

“spur of the moment type of thing” she shrugs before looking at you “we’ve got all the time in the world”

“i’d rather not be freezing my ass off in the dark, fleming” you say, dropping the blanket and standing. you brush off your bum and stretch your arms up before stuffing your hands in the pockets of your coat, admiring the view.

jessie takes a deep breath and runs over what she wants to say in her head, biting her lip and keeping her gaze focused on the water as she speaks to you “can you grab my waterbottle?” she asks.

you turn and walk three steps to where your stuff is, moving things around to find what you’re looking for. jessie knows you aren’t going to find it, it’s tucked into her side, but she needs at least forty five seconds to work the nerves out of her hands and get on one knee.

the midfielder shakes her hands out and puts one knee up, keeping the other on the ground, whilst she pulls the ring box out of her puffer pocket.

“jess are you sure it’s here?” you ask loudly “because i can’t find it, maybe you left it in the car” you exclaim, throwing your arms out and putting them on your hips before turning to face her.

your jaw drops almost comically at the sight of your girlfriend in front of you. her rosy cheeks are more flushed than usual, she’s wearing a nervous smile that you’ve never seen before and you can swear that her hands are shaking. sat in her grasp is a small black velvet box, the simple diamond ring occupying it catching the light.

“jess–”

“nope, no, you have to let me speak” she cuts you off, shaking her head

you nod shyly, bringing one of your hands up to cover your mouth “go on then”

jess let’s out a shaky breath “y/n i can’t count on my fingers how many times i’ve said that i’m going to marry you. i’ve said it directly to you, to my family, to my friends, anyone who would listen. everytime i’ve said it, i meant it. from the first time when i said it in that crowded bar in london, to two nights ago when we were in my childhood bedroom.” she says almost breathlessly, smiling when she realises that you’re tearing up.

“i have loved you longer than you’ve known” she says more quietly “i’ve had the privilege of watching you grow into such a kind and caring person. your compassion and ability to see everyone for who they are never fails to amaze me. everyday i wake up thankful that i get to spend my life with you so i’m asking, will you marry me?”

hey honey brown eyes are filled with hope and anticipation, leaving you to almost forget that she’s awaiting an answer from you. you shake your head and pull your hands off your face in borderline disbelief “of course i’ll marry you!”

jessie’s face breaks out into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen, tears welling up in her eyes as she carefully slips the ring on your finger. she grabs your face before she even gets off the ground and pulls you into a passionate kiss. the pads of her thumbs glide softly over your cheekbones before her grip tightens, pulling you impossibly closer.

you both pull apart from eachother so you can breathe but her lips still ghost over yours while she’s got her eyes closed.

“you are the best thing that’s ever been mine” she whispers against your lips before kissing you again, softer but with just as much passion as before.

you can’t wait to spend the rest of your life with her.

#pegs woso #pegs writes #jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming blurb #jessie fleming fic #jessie fleming imagine #jflem

86 notes · View notes

fenfyre · 22 days

Text

Forbidden Fruit - Part XVIII

Part I

Without thinking about it Chilchuck reached out to cup a pale cheek with his hand, feeling the rough scratch of stubble against his palm and fingertips. Laios leaned into the touch as if he were starving, lashes fluttering as his eyes slipped closed. Despite his wide shoulders and impressive build he looked fragile. A frail, breakable, helpless little thing in Chilchuck's hands.

"Alright, we will do this once, stick to the plan, and then never speak of it again. Do you understand?"

Chilchuck felt his stomach turn, a sour taste on his tongue.

Laios would have agreed to anything at that moment and Chilchuck had been happy to accept his blind agreement. After all he thought it the quickest way to get rid of these distracting thoughts and scratch an annoying itch. As for Laios, well ... he had a little crush. It was innocent, fleeting. Puppy love. Nothing to write home about. Nothing that would stay.

Except that it was and it did. It would.

The proof had been in every second they spent together tonight. In the way Laios had looked at him, touched him, held him, kissed him. It was in the way he knelt for him and curled into him right now, savouring every little touch he could get. Knowing this was almost over and he had to take in what he could.

Chilchuck had never wanted to but there was no denying he held Laios' beating heart between his palms.

And even though the thought terrified him to no end and left him sick to his stomach ... there was no part of him that did not want to treat that heart gently. Even if it would leave him shaking every step of the way.

"Hey there", he mumbled, voice thick as he reached out with the other hand to cradle Laios' other cheek, pulling him just a bit closer as golden eyes fluttered open. "Don't look like that, stranger. This was ... fun. I wouldn't mind doing it again."

A flurry of emotions danced across Laios' features. Confusion, disbelief, hope, longing, doubt...

"But ... but you said..."

"I know what I said. But I think ... I changed my mind."

Even more emotions, more confusion, more disbelief, more giddy excitement.

Chilchuck's stomach was twisting but he owed Laios gentle hands and honesty. Also bluntness.

"I can't promise you anything", he said firmly, freezing Laios' expression in careful attentiveness. "But maybe we can start by ... forgetting about the whole never speak of it again thing?"

"Yes", Laios agreed immediately, eyes wide as he nodded. "Yes I ... I would love to speak of it again! I would, uh ... love doing it again! I ... I really like..."

"I know", Chilchuck interrupted him quickly. He could not hear it yet. Knowing was already enough to almost make him throw up. "I know and that's ... alright. I just need time, yes? We have to take it slow."

Considering his words Laios gave a slow, thoughtful nod.

"Yes, of course." Then an almost imperceptible smile snuck onto his lips, a glint in his eye. Sly and mischievous. "Half-foot steps."

"Do you want to die?", Chilchuck roared but his brief puff of anger disappeared with the first sounds of Laios' laughter ringing clear and carefree between them, cheeks scrunching up below his palms.

"Sorry, sorry", Laios said, raising his hands to cup Chilchuck's much smaller ones. "Slow sounds good. Anything you need."

"We need to figure out how to navigate this. Especially when it comes to the party. I won't let this impact our work."

A hum, a nod of agreement.

"You will figure something out", Laios said, complete trust in his words. "We do whatever you need us to do. But..."

"But?" The question was somewhat distracted as Chilchuck's brain began ticking away, already trying to wrap around this strange, new situation and how to best work with it.

"But can that be a question for tomorrow? I want ... I don't know. Can we just be ... close? For a bit longer?"

Watching Laios fumble through his needs was way too endearing. Chilchuck could not help but open his arms for the bumbling idiot.

"Come here."

As Laios shot up to wrap strong arms around him and bury a gleeful grin against his neck the only feeling left in Chilchuck's stomach was warm, bubbling contentment.

The End

#chilaios #laichil #chilchuck tims #laios touden #dunmeshi #powerbottom chil #servicetop laios #aaaaand we're done #this was not planned this way #but i had loads of fun #thanks to everyone sticking around and checking the updates #i see you and i love you #keep your eyes peeled for this to go up on ao3 soon

39 notes · View notes

ham-st4r · 11 months

Text

𝟚 𝕞𝕦𝕔𝕙 - 𝕃. ℍ𝕖𝕖𝕤𝕖𝕦𝕟𝕘

❥pairing: heeseung + female reader!

❥warnings: NONE.

❥genre: fluff.

❥summary: inspired by “2 MUCH” from Justin Bieber.

Number of words: 1k

Find your way around!

Just a lil something I made real quick hope you like it

You and your boyfriend heeseung lie on your backs in his bed, staring up at the lights on the ceiling in his bedroom, hands interwind, enjoying each other’s presence.

A comfortable silence fills the small room as you’re both lost in thought about none other than each other.

The warmth of your hand brings him a sense of comfort, a comfort he could only find within you. No warm blanket, no stuffed animal, not even his mother's hugs could make him feel this much solace.

He hums a tune while squeezing your hand a tad bit tighter just to make sure you’re still there, and this isn’t a dream.

That’s just how unreal this moment felt.

The saying heaven on earth, you never quite understood it.

Until now, cuddled up next to your boyfriend with his hand perfectly molded together with yours was heaven on earth.

If you could stay like this forever, you wouldn’t mind it one bit. His touch made you feel safe. The closeness was a type of intimacy that you longed for, a type of intimacy you never even thought existed until heeseung came into your life.

♬Take on all your friend's problems Still, somehow stop the world for us.♬

He’s your everything, the one who gives you the best advice, the one that’s always there for you, the one that would sacrifice everything for your happiness, and the ones around you, the one who never broke his promises, the one that loved you unconditionally. He was the one for you.

♬Music every time I hear your name,♬

“Y/n,” he whispered so softly you almost didn’t hear it.

You close your eyes slowly. “Hmm?” You rubbed the back of his hand with your thumb.

♬Say, "I love you" under my breath More times than you can digest♬

“I love you,” he says with a fondness in his tone.

You smile with your eyes still closed and respond. “I love you too,” and just like that, it’s quiet once again.

He lets go of your hand and lays on his side, propping himself up with his elbow to admire you from a different angle.

♬Maybe I stare too much, maybe not long enough Funny how I forget to blink♬

You automatically do the same, and now you’re both unknowingly having a staring contest, but there’s clearly no winner. You’re both too lost in each other’s eyes that you forget to blink. You couldn’t cause neither of you wanted to miss a nanosecond of this precious moment.

♬Don't wanna close my eyes. I'm scared I'll miss too much.♬

If heeseung could freeze time, he wouldn’t think twice about it. He wouldn’t mind being frozen in this moment of time, a time when you looked so beautiful, and your eyes held so much love and adoration for him.

He lifted his hand to stroke your cheek, and it was almost like a magnet the way yours instantly reached to cup the back of his hand with your palm.

♬I still relieve that second I made my biggest blessing Prayed for you. Look what God has done.♬

Lucky wouldn’t even begin to describe how you felt to be able to have someone that loved you as much as heeseung.

You don’t know what you did to deserve him, but you’d go back and do it all over a million times again if he was waiting for you at the end.

In case his eyes didn’t convey how much love he held in his heart for you, he made sure to tell you and show you every single day.

He’d do the littlest of things for you, the smallest of things that if you didn’t love someone as much as he loved you, you wouldn’t even notice them.

He was the first to break eye contact but for good reason. He closed his eyes and leaned in, placing the softest, most delicate kiss on your cloud-like lips.

He always gave you the most gentle kisses, the type that could bring a tear to your eye from how much love he put into them.

His kisses were like long, warm showers after a hard day, like a shoulder to cry on and an ear to listen to all your problems. Just one of his kisses could make you forget about the world and everything in it except you and him.

He opened his arms as wide as ever to bring you into his embrace.

♬Your head's layin' right on my chest Sun's up, but I still ain't got no rest.♬

You belonged in his arms. You melted into his chest as he rested his chin atop your head and rubbed soothing circles on your shoulders.

His hugs felt like clouds so soft and delicate and barely even there but yet so comforting.

He absolutely loved the way you’d lean back and look up at him while secured in his embrace. It made his heart skip a beat. Another thing he loved was when you gently stroked his cheek. His eyes would immediately flutter shut as a long breath escapes his body. He leans in closer to your touch, so close that every warm breath he takes fans across your face.

More often than not, he’d get lost in your touches. Something about the way your soothing nimble fingers felt strumming along his soft skin like a melody made it hard for him not to get sleepy.

♬Don't wanna fall asleep. I'd rather fall in love.♬

He pulls you even closer to his chest as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear, but he knows you’ll never. He just needed to be closer to you.

You dissolve into his embrace. As close as you were, you wanted to be even closer. You nuzzled your face into his neck, sighing in contentment as you pressed your cheek against his warm skin.

♬When I can't feel you, I feel out of touch.♬

He tangled one of his legs with yours, wanting to feel every inch of your body that could touch his.

“Are we in heaven? Cause I don’t think it gets any better than this,” He says, still rubbing your shoulder gently.

“I would say so,” you whisper into the crook of his neck.

“Then I don’t ever want to leave” He places one last kiss on the crown of your head, and the morning continues with soft whispers of adoration and longing touches filled with affection as you both seal your never-ending love for each other with a kiss. And when you pull away nothing but the reflection of pure love can be seen in one another’s eyes.

♬'Cause eternity with you ain't long enough Two seconds without you's like two months And that's too much.♬

FIN

Thank you so much for reading. I appreciate each and every one of you who made it to the end. - 🐹

Permanent taglist!🔖 @heeseungssidechick @yumispky @sxurgrapes @seuomo @seungjiseyo @hee-pster @prettydiane @syamamas @heedeungieluvbot @simpplee @j4eyunz @enmayz @saikikusouswife @fictional-waste @kimochiloveshee @heej43

If anyone wants to be added or removed send ask only!

#heeseung fluff #heeseung fanfic #lee heeseung #enhypen heeseung #heeseung x reader #heeseung enhypen #heeseung #enhypen #enhypen heeseung fluff #Spotify

200 notes · View notes

wifeofsnowbaird · 3 months

Text

You Can't, You Can't Catch me Now I'm coming like storm into your town

Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/rest on Masterlist

[Mentor!Coriolanus Snow x time-travel, thg-era, tribute!reader x toxic!Finnick Odair (in the Peacekeeper era)]

Warning: gore, blood, gun and knife violence, serious injury, death, physical assult, possibly non-con...as I said, maybe...

Summary: You are a rebel, the last chance of the rebellion against President Snow. You're told to go on one last mission to kill the man who massacred Panem. It took you years to understand your mission when you became [name] Lily Baird, starting from the age of five till before the reaping day of the 10th Hunger Games.

The day you began your plan to destroy President Snow before he became the villain he was meant to become.

'Both sisters, Lucy Gray and [Name] Lily Baird are a part of the Covey, and though they have been chosen as tribute for both District 12 and 9 because of our own mistakes, we hope they will stay safe.'

You knew about [Name] Lily Baird, named after her because your mother was inspired by her fiery personality and strength, but now you realize that you were transported to a time before the Baird sisters died, one of sickness and one because of Coriolanus Snow himself.

'I will kill you, President Coriolanus Snow.'

[bolded and italics is parts straight from the book]

As the world died, you stood still, seeing nothing but the burnt hospital where Katniss announced the rebellion.

A scream caught your eye and that’s when you noticed that Lucy was beside you, perfectly lost in the chaos, but the scream came from the boy you think could be changed into a person who loved Panem and wanted to do what was good for all citizens.

Struck with silence, you felt a slow rush of smoke flutter through you but it felt like your lover.

Your Finnick.

‘[Name] Lily…Please…’

Coriolanus didn’t have the strength left to scream and cry like the other people surrounding them but his voice sounded broken, so different from his determined echo singing the National Anthem of Panem.

You helped him, but you felt tense because of the look on his face.

It reminded you of,

‘Finnick, my…F-’

‘Who’s Finnick?’

You ignored Coryo’s freezing tone to say your love’s name in a calm chant. You felt woozy like you were drunk on Posca.

‘Finnick Odair, from District 4…I loved him with my heart until I had to leave him to save the Districts from the President…’

Coryo hummed as you slowly passed out and lost his balance because of his injured arm.

'Don't worry, [Name]. Help is coming...' But the help was for him, and they bashed a gun into your stomach, forcing you to cough up blood. Unfortunately, He was dragged away by the medics, but he yelled your name as you were taken from him,

‘[Name]! Don’t hurt her! Please!’

they ignored him, and he had one thought in his mind before he fainted.

‘I’m glad you left him, he doesn’t deserve you, that poor District boy. [Name] Lily Baird, you are a diamond bought by the future President of Panem, Coriolanus Snow, from a poor beggar.'

Finnick Odair.

But never forget, your Coryo won't overlook that name until Odair dies.

He woke up on a pure white mattress with soft sheets thrown onto his lean frame.

‘Hi, Coryo. It’s us.’

Tigris smiled at him, checking his body for injuries the doctors hadn’t seen. Coriolanus hissed as a wound on his back started to sting, but still, he formed a small grin and faced his cousin and Grandma’am.

‘Hey, you missed bomb time…’

Tigris chuckled before frowning at the bandages wrapped around him.

‘Turns out that’s worse,’ she mumbled, ‘Knowing that you were there and I wasn’t.’

Coriolanus’ gaze faltered before he could reassure her that he was glad she was far from the Arena.

‘I’m glad that I’m not alone, and I’m glad that you’re safe and sound.’ He whispered, finally glancing back toward the blond-haired woman.

Tigris’ eyes teared up before clearing her throat and motioning to his scars to ask about what happened.

‘[Name] saved me…But she was hurt in the process…’

Tigris laughed before she could stop herself.

‘Well aren’t I glad!’

Grandma’am didn’t quite believe him until he gave a quick timeline of events.

‘Well, that does show some character, she seems like she wants to be a sweet capital girl. I applaud her personality.’

It was high praise for a District girl coming from a capital lady.

Especially from the woman who believed that all District breeds should be maids.

His grandma’am eventually shuffled over to him again when he lied down and took in a large breath.

‘I wonder if Clemensia felt this way when she was bitten by Dr.Gaul’s snakes.’ Was what haunted his mind.

After a bit of questioning, Coriolanus finally dared to ask what had to [Name] Lily. Tigris shrugged and only said that she wasn’t on the list of dead tributes before they settled into a deep silence.

Sejanus was silent, sitting on his couch while the news of dead tributes played over and over again. The male tribute from District 12, both tributes from 1, the girl tribute from 2, and the male tribute from 9 had died. Luckily, neither of the Baird sisters had died, well, lucky for him and Coryo, he supposed.

‘Sejanus, eat something, you could have been seriously hurt!’ His ma yelled.

Sejanus hummed, but his gaze never moved from the television, watching a brave brown-haired girl running through the camera’s vision.

It was hours after Coriolanus had awoken, and Grandma’am was busy complaining about how proud the Districts should be while watching the bombing.

‘But they say hardly anyone there saw it, Grandma’am.’ Tigris snorted. ‘You know they despise watching it.’

‘It won’t take a while for them to find out.’ Grandma’am clarified. ‘It’s the type of story that catches fire.’

The world had caught fire before your eyes and all it reminded you of, just like during the bombing, was the speech Katniss yelled out to President Snow during the 75th Hunger Games.

‘You can torture us and bomb us and burn our districts to the ground. But do you see that? Fire is catching... And if we burn... you burn with us!’

‘[Name], are you sure you’re okay?’

You smiled at your sister but you knew that wouldn’t quell her worries at all.

‘I promise, I’m fine, I’m just a bit shaken up.’

Lucy Gray nodded before staring into the cold alley where they kept all of the tributes that hadn’t died.

‘I’m happy that you’re okay.’

‘I’m glad you’re okay too, Lucy…’ You mumbled before embracing her in a warm hug.

The doctor who had entered to check up on Coriolanus was coincidentally the doctor he’d seen after the snake attack, Dr.Wane.

He reassured the Snows that Coriolanus was fine and had a mild concussion but he would, unfortunately, have to stay at the Hospital for a few more days before he could go home.

‘Wait!’ Coriolanus yelled. Dr.Wane turned back and nodded.

‘Do you know how my tribute is doing? Her hands were burned and she was choking on blood and smoke before I fainted.’

‘I wouldn’t know, but right now that shouldn’t be your concern, young man. You should focus on resting for now.’

Coriolanus wasn’t quite happy with that information but he obliged, his eyes weighing down on him before he finally passed out.

ugh should i kill finnick when he comes on, its like the Peacekeeper part but i gotta think about it now...

56 notes · View notes

tenkasato · 4 months

Note

Saw that you’re writing for knb! That’s so great!! Awesome Midorima pieces! Do you write for Takao? Some fluff or hurt/comfort? I’m having bad back aches recently so some pick-me-up would be very welcome. Thank you!! Hope you’re doing well!

You know what, besides Kuroko, I think Takao would also win the best boyfriend award. This cute, handsome bean is simply the sweetest.

You've known Takao since your first day in Shutoku. He was a seatmate, the kid who wore a boyish grin that matched the warm glint in those raven-colored eyes.

"Hi, Takao Kazunari, at your service."

You were shy. He was friendly.

You enjoyed reading. He loved playing basketball.

You loved flowers. He gave you one every so often.

You were keen to the feelings he harbored for you though he never verbalized them outright. Uncertainty, with a little rough sprinkle of fear, littered over your heart—a thin layer of dust that kept you from reciprocating. Everyone told you to give it a try. Give him a chance.

It's not easy. Baring your heart out like that at a young age.

Even when you knew Takao to be a good person, through and through.

"You wanna just stay friends?" he asked one time, unknowingly pulling out the words from your knotted tongue. You inhaled sharply, giving him a side glance as you both continued to stroll on the pavement.

Takao had his arms folded, hands locked behind his neck in a relaxed posture. A soft smile quirked his lips, and if you hadn't hanged out with him often, you'd miss the very subtle melancholy in his otherwise carefree tone.

“What made you mention that now all of the sudden?” you tested the waters.

There was a brief pause from his side. You busied yourself by lightly pounding on your lower back with a closed fist. Your back has been killing you the past couple of days. Long hours seated in front of your desk with your nose buried into your notes always gave you back aches.

Normally you’d be annoyed with the bothersome discomfort, but now you're rather thankful for the distraction.

However, this doesn't go unnoticed by your friend.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, peering at your back.

“No,” you lied, putting your hands in front of you instead.

Takao made a low hum, before switching his glance ahead of him again. “Shin-chan made a comment this morning. He doesn't voice out his opinions most of the time, so hearing it from him meant something.”

“O-oh, is that so?” you stuttered, putting on a fake smile. You wished you looked amused rather than uneasy.

You felt panic boiling in your stomach. Palms clammy, you started to quicken your pace. It's not that you felt nothing for him. You liked him back, a lot. But relationships always terrified you.

“Hey, are you okay?”

His voice made you freeze on your tracks. It was only then when you realized that he's stopped walking, gawking at you as if you were an apparition.

“Takao-kun, I—I’m not so sure about…I’m,” you stammered, words clattering over like your thoughts, until you came up with a blatant lie: "My back's killing me…"

You felt his hand on your head. Biting your bottom lip, you raised your head to meet the knowing gaze you’ve always seen him wear. There was something about that smile, that infuriatingly cherubic smile, that made you want to reach out too and ruffle his hair.

“What are you, an old woman?" he laughed and dropped his hand and reached for his pocket. You watched him shift his balance, looking just a tiny bit of sheepish before he looked to you again.

“Listen, everyone probably knows I have had a huge crush on you since day one.”

You blinked rapidly, wanting to tear your eyes from his as he went on. How could he be so confident?

“But if you ask me, I’m perfectly content with just being friends. So forget what I said, forget that I told you of Shin-chan being uncharacteristically nosey. Forget it. Let’s just enjoy our time together, hm?”

You felt your shoulder relaxing at that. It almost felt like you’ve been released from a vice-like grip around your ribcage. Grateful, you find the smile slipping across your lips easier and more naturally.

“I agree.”

Takao takes in your smile, shrugging good-naturedly before dropping to one knee.

With a shock of surprise, you open your mouth to tell him off when he beats you to it. “Hop on."

“What?” you blushed, “No way! I can manage on my own. Stand up. Stand up. You look like a frog from behind.”

Takao bursted into laughter, the sound of it ringing pleasantly in your ears. “Like that lucky charm Shin-chan brought the other day?”

“Yeah, but much uglier.”

He threw you a scandalous gasp. “No one's ever called me ugly before!”

“I mean it, Takao-kun,” you groaned and pulled him up. Takao lets you, but keeps his arm linked to yours. You wanted to comment on it, but decided against it. You let him lead you ahead.

“Promise me, when you finally say ‘yes’ to me next time, you’ll let me pick you up and carry you. Sounds good?”

“And what makes you think I’d even say ‘yes’?” you challenge.

He makes a low whistle. You tug against his arm in retort.

“I’m a man who never gives up,” he chirps.

Thank you for waiting for this, anon! I know it's been so long. Please consider this as a Christmas gift ^^

#takao x reader #takao kazunari #takao kazunari x reader #kuroko no basket #knb #tenkasato writes

85 notes · View notes

foreverinadais · 2 years

Text

drive me home: m.k

summary: you broke up with jake lockley a couple months ago. now, he’s your cab driver and he’s taking you back to another man’s house.

warnings: angst, angst, angst (can you tell my favourite thing to write is angst?) fluff, language, a man being gross, suggestive content

word count: 3.5k words :)

this took me way longer than i ever envisioned but it’s finally done!! i hope you enjoy!!

"So, you wanna take this back to my place?" They were words you never thought you'd hear again, at least not from a stranger. But here you were, slightly tipsy, head swimming as you dance and grind on a random man in the club. You hesitate, freezing slightly.

It felt... wrong. Wrong to be with someone who wasn't him, wasn't them. But how else could you move on? How else could you get over him? Over his touch, rough hands over your body, but feather light in their embrace. His distinct smell; that one cologne Steven hated, hints of cigars and leather, all intertwined with him. And his smile. That smile. So welcoming, sometimes menacing, always handsome as ever.

But this wasn't him. This was a body promising a single night of possibility. A way out for a single moment from the lovelorn and the heartache.

So, you nod, trying to lose yourself in the music, the haze of the alcohol, the lights. Try to focus on the feeling of the hands on your waist, desperate and confident, but not the hands you needed.

And then you were outside. There was a scurry of limbs as the guy from the pub kissed you, and it felt good, but not in the way you craved. "Gonna call a taxi, yeah?" You found yourself nodding again as he stepped away and sent a quick message to your friends that you were leaving and that you would send your location, just in case.

Soon enough, the man was back, hands around your waist as he kissed the column of your neck.

Just lean into it, just pretend. You need to do this.

So, you shut your eyes, focused on the touches, trying to chase pleasure from the lips on your skin.

There was a light buzz throughout London. Horns were beeping, people were singing drunken shanties. The club you had been in was full of life, only adding to the adrenaline, the need to do something, or rather, someone.

It didn't take long for the taxi to get there. The man you were leaving with grinned, taking your hand and opening the door for you. There were hardly any words spoken, bar from the "alright mate, Holland drive, cheers."

You held on to the buzz of the alcohol in your system, to the rush of leaving with someone new, the excitement of the unknown. The guy next to you was whispering something in your ear and you smiled at his words, trying to forget what you were desperate to forget.

You didn't note your surroundings. Tried to fog them out. But an angry beep of the horn pulled you from your haze. It was when the taxi driver began shouting at some drunken passers-by -who had nearly killed themselves by intercepting on the road- that you snapped out of whatever it was you were in.

That voice.

It was so distinctly familiar. You had heard it in all its forms. Heard it say words of love, lust, and eventually hate. And that was when reality yanked you from whatever cloud you were residing on so that you fell on the hard, cobbled ground.

Your eyes met his surprisingly easily through the wing mirror. As if magnetized, forever drawn to each other's gaze. He must've known it was you. Did he know it was you? Did he see you seemingly loved up with another? Did he debate on driving away?

The questions swirled in your mind as your face dropped, as your heart beat out of its body because there he was. Jake Lockley. The man who, just 2 months ago, really left.

“You can't keep doing this shit, Jake. You disappear for weeks at a time with no explanation and come back and except to just, what fuck and make up? I can't do it anymore." It had been a particularly bad week when it happened, mostly because he had gone again with no more than a mere note: gone on mission-J.

You meant what you said. You really did. It had been too often that he let you down, that he had literally left you, and you were sick of it, couldn't handle it anymore.

And the worst part? He wasn't saying anything. Was just... sat there, whiskey in hand, agitated smirk on his face.

“Do you even care? Are you even fucking listening right now?" And he scoffed, standing up and facing you.

“Course I'm listening, all I ever hear. It's fucking exhausting." You blink angrily, almost in disbelief at the man in front of you.

“Oh, I'm so sorry that I'm exhausting. You know what's really tedious? Tiring? When you leave. For weeks at a time and I have no idea if your dead or alive or what's going on. That's exhausting, Jake."

“I forgot how hard you had it, sitting 'ere and waiting. Not like I'm the one fuckin' risking my life everyday-

“How is that my fault? What, you think I wouldn't help if I could?" Jake chuckled darkly, taking a long sip of the drink in his hand, feeling tipsier by the second.

"You couldn't handle it, sweetheart." What's that supposed to mean?"

"Means your too weak." You scoffed, anger mixing with slight sadness at his harsh words. He knew it was a low point to aim for, that you had confided in him that he would find someone stronger, more equipped for missions than yourself. He knew that and said it anyway.

“Fuck you, Jake."

“Cute, Cariño. Is that the best you can do?" Frustration appeared as bubbling in your stomach and angry tears in your eyes.

“Why are you even here? If your just gonna leave again and again, why'd you come back?" He appeared to ponder the question, finishing the whiskey in his glass in a final gulp, swirling it between his teeth before answering,

“Dunno."

"Then leave." It came out quieter than you intended, voice more broken than you intended. Jake didn't hesitate to stand up, coming closer to you. You thought he would apologise, hug you, beg to stay. But no. He simply put his glass down by the sink, barely looking at you as he walked out of the flat, out of your life.

His eyes hadn’t changed. They were a constant in your life, in your dreams as you slept, in your fantasies as you laid awake at night, or carried on about your day. You could see them anywhere, a any point, at any time. Yet, here they were, in real life, peering at your own through a small mirror.

You couldn’t speak, even if you wanted too. Because what would you say? A million words had been left unspoken since the last time you had seen each other, yet enough had been said to seemingly ruin the relationship you’d shared. Words were funny like that; one wrong one could make everything tumble down.

You almost forgot about the man sat eagerly next to you, now messaging his friends about something that happened at work last week. Oh. You were going to his house. You were going to… it suddenly felt wrong, felt forbidden, as if you were betraying the man who still broke your heart, but still somehow owned it.

That man was now sat a mere feet away from you but was somehow still worlds apart. In fact, you hardly recognised him. He wasn’t the countless laughs you had shared together. Weren’t the stolen kisses in the mornings or unadulterated passion at night. He wasn’t the man you swore you’d marry- he was a stranger now, just as much as the person sat next to you. Because that’s what you were now;

Strangers with memories.

The cab was stopping with a harsh slam of a break. You didn’t know when the intense eye contact had stopped, but one look out the window showed you’d arrived at your destination. “A’ight, mate, thanks for that, ‘ere, keep the change, yeah?” Your fling slurred out, handing Jake a crumpled up twenty and stumbling out the car.

But you didn’t reciprocate his action. Not for a moment, anyway. Not whilst you were becoming intoxicated off the smell of his cologne, one that had stuck to your clothes for weeks, an impossible reminder of helping him get ready for the day, of clinging to his embrace, his touch.

Your date seemed to notice you weren’t by his side when he was halfway up the drive. And who said chivalry was dead, you thought, as he clambered back to the door, half-heartedly opening it for you. “S’ sorry, forgot I was meant to be a gentleman an’ all that. Here, c’mon sweetheart, don’t got all night.” His words were jokey but set off an uncomfortable feeling in your stomach.

Jake was looking at you again through the small mirror, hand back on the wheel as he awaited your next move.

“Actually, I feel quite sick,” Your voice, he hadn’t heard it in way too long and it ignited something in him that he swore he’d lost until now, “Think I’m going to go home. It was nice meeting you though,”

“You joking?” The guy asked, face twisting in drunken confusion. When you shook your head, he scoffed. “Fuck sake, waste of time, didn’t even get a shag, fuck this, not even worth it anyway.” The words came out in a violent sludge, spewing over each other as he walked away.

“Listen here you fuckin’ asshole-”

“I’d like to go home.” Your voice spoke before Jake could retaliate in the way you knew he longed too, his hand already easing the door open to face the man who dare speak of you in such a way. He wasn’t going to listen to you, not until a soft, broken ‘please’ fell from your lips. And it convinced him with a defeated sigh.

The guy was already stalking away, not before Jake flipped him off, cussing at him in Spanish, before practically speeding off down the street.

It was silent as Jake raced down the empty streets, 20 miles over the speed limit. You could hear the leather of his gloves squeak as he squeezed the wheel tighter and tighter with every mile. Should you say something? It didn’t feel right to speak, not with what just happened. Not when it was clear what he was driving you to do.

But you were broken up, you reasoned, trying to push down the requited feelings of betrayal. Jake Lockley had broken your heart. It was his responsibility. You hated how much you missed him, craved him, his touch, his words, his eyes. It felt like a dream to be sat in the same vicinity as him, mere feet away from each other’s warmth.

God, you missed him.

With each whiff of his cologne, each slight peek towards his eyes, every small sound from his gloved hands, it brought you back to the past, when you were immeasurably happy. You didn’t want him to be a stranger, a onetime taxi driver dropping you off and your next drunk hook up. You wanted him to be there in the mornings, stubble against your neck in a cheeky wake-up kiss, wanted to wrap your arms around his waist as he cooked you dinner, wanted to kiss his lips whenever you had the chance-

When the cab stopped this time, it was less violent than before. He was ready to get here, to this stop, one who knew all too well. The lights in most of the windows of your flat were out, probably due to how late it was. Jake knew which window belonged to you. He wanted to tease you about your themed curtains like he had countless times before but refrained himself.

It wasn’t his place to make you laugh anymore.

The thick silence between the two of you remained for a moment longer, neither wanting to be the first to talk. But, Jake realised, this was a job, his job, and thus it was his duty to say, “£10.50.”

You snapped out of your trance, searching in your small bag before swearing. Jake briefly glanced to where you were sat, but it was fleeting. He wanted, needed, you out of the cab. Seeing you again was too hard, too much, and he knew a minute longer, the dam would break,

“I don’t…” fuck. “I don’t have any change, the other guy- I mean, I didn’t think I’d be getting a… taxi.” You were stumbling over your words, and not because of the alcohol still laced in your system. Jake didn’t hesitate when replying, though his eyes stayed trained ahead.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

“Oh. Okay. Thanks.” You didn’t want to leave. Maybe leaving this time would be the last time you’d see him. Maybe fate wouldn’t allow another interaction like this. Jake sensed your hesitation, could feel it breathing down his neck without even having to look back.

“Have a good evening and please, leave a review if this was a good service.” Jake muttered almost mechanically, the same sentence he was meant to say after every trip. Normally charismatic, confident, it worked, and he often got tips. Now, however, was different.

Your heart fell in your chest at the words. Was this all you were now? A business endeavour? A drunk passenger on the way back from a night out? The thought hung in your stomach, heavy and rather sickening. He wanted you to leave.

You refrained from sighing, finally reaching for the door handle and clicking it open. The cold air met your bare legs, small goosebumps appearing with each breath of the wind.

“Here, mi amor. Your gonna catch a cold.”

“I’m not cold, Jake, keep your jacket.”

“C’mon, you need it. What kinda boyfriend would I be if I didn’t offer my jacket?”

“Wow, my knight in shining armour.” The conversation was jokey as you wandered the moonlit streets. Jake had taken off his gloves to hold your hand properly, fingers interlocked, his thumb stroking your palm gently.

“Can have my hat too, if you want.” Jake offered, smirk gracing his features as if he was joking- but you knew this was his love language, a way to show how much he appreciated you.

“Fine. Dress me.” You dramatically stopped, putting your arms out as Jake put his jacket over your shoulders. Then, he came in front of you, grinning as he toko his precious cap off his head and placing it onto your own. He perpetuated the action with a small kiss on the tip of your nose, making you chuckle.

“Warmer?” He quipped, and you nodded, wrapping your arms around his in an attempt to be close to him.

“What about you? Aren’t you cold?” He just smiled, pecking your lips once, twice, before continuing on your walk of the empty streets. He was cold- but he didn’t feel it. Not when the love of his life was there to keep his heart warm.

The sudden memory made you freeze. “When did this happen?” The words feel from your lips faster than they had formed. You couldn’t hold it back anymore, couldn’t ignore the past which was intoxicating you more than any alcohol ever could.

Jake looked in the mirror again, confusion clouding his eyes. “Huh?”

“When did we become strangers?” The reality had hit you both like a wave, washing you into the present, away from the past when you were happy, angry, and everything in between.

“Fuck.” Jake muttered, rubbing his face with his hands. “Shut the door, lettin’ the heat out.” You did so, quickly, shuffling back into the warmth of the cab. Silence was begging to ensue again, but this time, you refused to let it stay.

“Remember that day…” You hesitate suddenly, an abundance of memories rushing through your brain; your first kiss, first argument, first time you woke up next to each other from a night of passion. “When you kept me warm? Gave me your clothes cause I was too stubborn to admit I was cold?” The simple memory had provided pure bliss whenever it popped into your brain.

For the first time since you got into the cab, Jake’s eyes weren’t looking at yours through the mirror. Instead, they were there, physically staring into your own, close enough you could see every eyelash, every glint, every ounce of colour. “I remember.” He muttered, expression stoic. Before you could respond, he added, “All of it.”

“You do?”

“ ‘Course.”

“Do you miss it?” The adrenaline, mixed with the remnants of alcohol in your system, was giving you a push of confidence, the filter between what you were saying lessening by the second. “Do you miss us?” Jake sighed, eyes shutting briefly as he pondered his answer. Of course he did. More than anything.

“Sí.”

“Then… why did you leave?” Your voice was low, a broken hush as the words lingered in the air. Why did he leave? Because he was embarrassed? Because he knew you were right? Or was it harsher than that? Because he wanted to? Because he didn’t love you enough to want to stay?

“D’you know how hard it was to see you with someone else?” Jake said, voice barely above a raspy whisper. You registered his words, puzzled.

“What?”

“Some asshole with his hands all over you… should’ve taught that Bastardo a lesson.” A familiar sense of anger, one that only arose when you were in moments like these with Jake, flared inside of you as you scoffed.

“Well, what was I supposed to do, Jake? Y-You left.”

“Yeah, cause you told me too!”

“Are you serious? You know why I had to do that. You know, not once did you fight to stay.”

Jake sighed, taking his cap off his head and throwing it on the seat next to him. God, you missed his hair, missed how it felt in the rare, intimate moments he would let you play with it. You had the overwhelming urge to reach over the short distance from the back seat and touch it now, to remind yourself he was here, with you, even if for a moment.

“Your right.”

Oh.

You hadn’t expected him to agree with you, nor to ever admit to it. Jake Lockley was stubborn, after all. Your right. That… that was new, especially for him.

“I should’ve fought for you. Should’ve done more whilst we were together. You know, outta all the shit I’ve done, that’s my biggest fuckin’ regret.” You felt at a loss for words, brain grasping at empty to strands to form some kind of coherent sentence.

“You… that doesn’t fix anything, Jake. I needed more then, and I need more now.”

He didn’t even hesitate when saying, “I know.” But there was a slight apprehension to his next words, ones he knew desperately needed to be said. “I’m sorry. Truly. For everything, amor, fuck, I’m sorry.”

There are times in life where there are two decisions. Left or right? Leave with this stranger or go home alone? Forgive or forget about the love that once was there? You knew what the reasonable, self-respecting thing to do. To get out, go to bed, forget forever.

But then you felt the cold again. And remembered the warmness Jake Lockley provided in your life. The times he would give you his clothes to ensure your comfort. The times he would make you breakfast, whistling a soft tune as he did so. The times he would complain about whatever movie you had put on, but put up with it anyway, just to see you passionately talk about the ending.

You opened the door, getting out confidently and closing it with a quick slam. Jake was about to react, emotions tunnelling toward him, but just as quickly as you had gotten out, you were getting in the front seat by him. You were closer than before now, breathing the same air. Jake could see every inch of your face, took it all in to have it engraved in his brain, just in case this was a cruel trick, and you would be gone again.

“I’m-”

“Drive me home?” Jake looked out the window, worried his muscle memory had taken you to the wrong address. But sure enough, it was your flat they were at.

“Cariño, you are home.”

“No… I’m not.” He suddenly registered what you were saying. A small smile came onto his lips, one which you reciprocated. It felt right to share a smile again. To share a smile with someone you loved.

His gloved fingers interlocked with yours, resting your joined hands atop of your knee. You felt your heart grow warmer at the action, a warmth that Jake Lockley had taken with him when he left. He brought your hand up to his lips, placed a gentle kiss to the skin there. “Okay, mi amor. Let’s go home.”

And then, he was driving, accelerating down the empty streets- but for the first time in a long time, his heart was finally full.

@leh2393 @vinsevena @dalia-12-3 @kotonei-molyneux @the-girl-king

#jake lockely x reader #jake lockley angst #jake lockley fanfiction #jake lockely #moon knight imagine #moon knight headcanon #moon knight angst #moon knight #moon knight ff

638 notes · View notes

call-sign-shark · 1 year

Note

Or 3 and 7 with our perfect Cold Iceman… can’t choose Shark 🥹

Why choose when I could add both? Sorry for the long wait, I hope you'll like it my sweet little Fox. 💚

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

✨Take My Breath Away✨

Summary: Valentine's prompt Flowers (3) and Dancing (7) -- Iceman x Reader

Words: 1.7k

Tags: pure fluff !! Ice being super awkward with feelings. No proof reading.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

From the beginning of your training as the first female pilot to today, hiding your weakness had become a habit. Feeling sick or tired? You would double your efforts and work even more than on a normal day. Feeling depressed? You would reply to the constant teasing with a sharp and confident smile as if you were ready to eat them alive. Especially Hollywood, who you could not put up with. Even when your period cramps were tearing your uterus and the hormones would rattle your nerves, you kept working hard, your face was always hidden behind a mask of total indifference. Maverick and Goose often joked about your frozen demeanor, comparing you to Iceman when it came to expressing emotions. But contrary to Kazansky, no one had given you the choice. The slightest weakness shown could be used against you by the pack of ferocious and macho pilots, whose only wish was to see you fall.

The black tea you had let cool down on the coffee table had stopped smoking. An unpleasant chill ran down your spine, which made you snuggle a bit more in the heavy and warm blanket you wrapped yourself with when you came back to your bedroom. Your fingers reached for the cup’s handle and brought the tea to your lips. The first sip warmed your whole soul. You felt like you had just swallowed a little fragment of sun, which lit up you from the inside. A sigh of relief escaped from your mouth, soon followed by your eyelids slowly closing. Finally, you thought, you could finally rest and forget about Valentine’s. A hot tea, a blanket, and music coming from your radio were all you needed. The sights of pilots gifting flowers and chocolate to girlfriends almost made you sick. Men… They were all the same. You did not always hate Valentine’s Day though. There was a time you could not wait for your boyfriend to come home with the cliché but oh-so-romantic box of chocolates et flowers. Cheesy, but absolutely heartening. You remembered how your expression would suddenly become cheerful at the sight of the handsome soldier with gifts in his hands, waiting for you in the middle of the door’s frame. There were Valentine’s Days with John and now, those without him. You clenched your jaw at such bittersweet memories: you had loved him so much… Until you found him in bed with another woman.

Another sip of tea, another wave of warmth coating your frozen heart with its delicious aroma. It was not particularly late but you decided to go to sleep, after all, it was not like you had a date or something. You had barely got up from the couch when you heard someone knocking at your door. Your brows furrowed for you were not expecting visits. At first, you hesitated: what If you just didn’t answer? Your social battery was so empty that the last thing you wished for was to hold a conversation. Nevertheless, you still dragged your exhausted body to the door and opened it.

“Listen, I’m fucking tired and—“ You cut mid-sentence.

“And?” A calm and cold voice retorted.

You looked up and your eyes were met with freezing blue irises. Tom “Iceman” Kazansky was standing fiercely at your door, hands crossed behind his back and his whole posture screaming military discipline. You had expected anyone knocking at your door, anyone except Iceman. The corner of his mouth moved in a quick and faint smirk, betraying his emotions: he was amused by how you reacted to his presence. While you could easily make men shit themselves, Kazansky was the only one who would face you at the slightest inconvenience. He was harsh, he was scary, but he also was the only one who never made inappropriate comments about you. He was difficult to prove, consequently you never knew if he liked you or hated you — or if your presence was just insignificant to him. Coming back to your senses, you took a step back and crossed your arms on your chest.

“What do you want, Kazansky” Your tone was suddenly less impetuous now that Ice was towering over you. He remained silent for a little while, his cerulean eyes observing each trait of your face as if the answer to all his worries was hidden somewhere on your skin. He finally blinked, realizing that he was probably staring at you for too long and that it was awkward.

“Take.” Stern tone. No extra words. Ice was the kind of man who liked going straight to the point. Maybe that was why he handed you the charming bouquet of red roses he had hidden behind his back without utterly the slightest explanation. You opened your eyes wide: he took your breath away as if he had just thrown you a punch right in the guts. Tom “Iceman” Kazansky was standing at your door, roses in his hand and they were for you. Blood rushed to your face.

“Are you gonna take them or not?” The tall blonde pilot said, raising an eyebrow. His jaws were moving for he was chewing gum — he always did since he quit smoking.

“Oh, yes!” You shook your head, his attractive voice snatching you from your thoughts, “Yes!” You repeated before taking the flowers from his hands and burying your nose in their delicate petals to sniff at their pleasant scent. It was the first time Ice saw a genuine smile flattering your juicy lips and, to be true, it made him melt. Even though he did not let it show.

“Thank you Ice, this is very nice.” You said, nose still hidden among the red roses.

“Well,” He cleared his throat, not really sure what to do now. Slider told him to take off his shirt and show his abs, but he was not sure about it. Bradshaw and Mitchell would have sung you a ridiculous love song, but doing so was absolutely out of question. And concerning the florist, she only told him to offer the bouquet and wait for his lover to make the first step — but you were not having any peculiar reaction. What did he do wrong?

“See you tomorrow, I guess.”

“Ice?” Raising your face from the bouquet, you offer him a shy smile with glimmering eyes. Your face was dressed in a look you had never given to a pilot since you broke up with John.

“Yes?”

“Come in.” You winked and let him come into your bedroom. Then, you put the red roses in a little flower pot you had brought from your mom’s house. As you took care of the bouquet, the blonde pilot stopped in the middle of the room and looked all around him. To be honest, He believed that a bedroom could tell a lot about someone. For example, his was neat, clean, and completely impersonal. No family pictures, no letters, no plushies, nothing. Sometimes you wondered if Tom Kazansky could be anything else than Iceman. You could not picture him being a father, nor a son, nor a casual man. He was just… Ice.

Yet, a small grin stretched the corner of his lips. He had just spotted the adorable family picture you had on your nightstand, displaying a little Y/N piggybacked by your father. Behind you was standing an impressive Biplane straight from World War I. He knew you came from a family of pilots, but he did not expect your father to own such an incredible machine.

"You look so happy." Ice stated, his voice softer than usual.

"I was. My dad would often take me with him when he flew the Fokker. I think there are my favorite memories of him. He would tell me that, one day, I'll be ready to fly it by myself."

When Iceman noticed the tint of melancholy in your voice, he could not help but gently bring his hesitant fingers to one of your shoulders. He, who was always confident, felt like a shy kid. Even though he already had relationships, they were all one night stands. Which did not help him to understand the mysteries behind social interactions. The unexpected physical contact sent a shiver down your spine -- You never realized how eager you were for him to touch you until today. You both remained silent for a while, Ice gently caressing your shoulder with his thumb as the first notes of Take My Breath Away by Berlin echoed in the room. The blonde pilot took a deep breath and glanced at you, his frost eyes enjoying the sight of your delightful silhouette.

"Hey."

Surprised when he broke the silence, you turned to him with a questioning look on your adorable face. Ice's smile grew bigger, showcasing his perfect white teeth in a surprisingly tender grin. His blue eyes left yours only to fall on your lips, which immediately made your whole body heat up. Why the hell were you reacting like that? Of course, you had always thought Kazansky was a handsome man but not a handsome potential boyfriend. At least, that was the case until he smiled.

"I really love this song." He said, always uttering a sufficient amount of words. Gathering his courage, he wrapped your waist with his strong arms with an indescribable softness. Then, he brought you closer.

"Ice--" You locked yours around his neck, not really knowing what you were doing.

"Shhhh." The way your expression shift when you were surprised sent a jolt of arousal through his body. He let out a long exhale through his nostrils and, with small and slow steps, he pulled you in a slow dance. Your whole being faltered at his touch as well as at his freezing eyes diving into yours. The first hesitant movements were soon swept away by more confidence.

Watching, I keep waiting, still anticipating love Never hesitating to become the fated ones Turning and returning to some secret place to hide Watching in slow motion as you turn to me and sayMy love, take my breath away

You closed your eyes, your head now gently resting on his chest while you were still slowly swirling on the song's rhythm. As the soft melody of his beating heart lulled your broken soul, you finally found peace.

There had been Valentine's days with John and those without. But the more important ones were those you spent with Iceman. Because since winter 86', he would keep bringing you red roses and still make you slow dance with him in the living room each Valentine's Day.

Even after you became Mrs. Y/N Kazansky.

#tom kazansky x reader #tom iceman kazansky #iceman x reader #ice x reader #Top gun fanfic #top gun fic #top gun x reader #iceman x female reader #tom kazansky x female reader #iceman top gun #tom kazansky imagine #iceman kazansky #top gun 86 #val kilmer

317 notes · View notes