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#he knows that you sleeping in the trash is bad
roseghoul26 · 3 days
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Chapter 10: But It's Been Promised To Another
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Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy? Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, First Kiss, Arthur Is Bad At Emotions, Confessions, First Time Together, Cunnilingus, Missionary, Doggy Style, Handjobs, Mirrors, Party, Semi-Public Sex, Quickies, Unsafe Sex, Tags Updated Per Chapter Author's Note: for once i've got nothing to say. hope you enjoy! Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay@nn-hh192 @photo1030 @just-pure-trash @julialoopeezz Chapter List
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For the first time during your entire marriage, you were excited for Hans to return home. 
Not because you wanted to see him but because it meant that you were one step closer to seeing Arthur at the party. Your back ached from sleeping on the couch as you reached for the now-dry bedding on the line, a hole in your heart that grew each time Arthur left. 
As you walked back into the house with an armful of laundry, you heard the unmistakable noise of wheels rolling over the dirt path. Excitement bubbled through you, and you ran inside and up the stairs. You got to work quickly, refitting the bed with its sheets, pretending to act surprised when you heard Hans knock lightly at the bedroom door.
Spinning around, you were nearly caught off guard by how disheveled he looked, as if he had run his hands through his hair countless times on the ride home. You don’t think you’d ever seen him like this, and the fake smile you’d plastered on fell. “Hans?” You asked cautiously, honestly a bit concerned. “Everything alright?”
His mouth formed the words, but no noise came out. Instead, he just sighed, an even faker smile than yours appearing beneath his beard. “I’m fine,” was all he said before backing up, no doubt retreating to his office. “Just… work. Nothing you need to bother yourself with.”
“But-” You didn’t even get a word out before he disappeared from the doorway. You heard the sound of keys rattling as he pulled them out of his jacket pocket, and you turned back to your work. 
A thought flashed in your mind, making you halt, listening intently for your husband. You remember that the office was unlocked, having no way to lock it after you and Arthur’s exploration. And when you heard the keys stop jingling, you knew he noticed it, too. He always locked his office, even after two years together. 
You waited with bated breath, expecting to hear heavy footsteps return to the bedroom. Your relief was immeasurable when he just continued into the office, hearing the door click as it shut instead. You were in the clear for now. 
During the rest of the time in the bedroom, you expected Hans to appear at any second, angrily shouting at you. But as the minutes crawled by and you were only met with the sounds of fabric rustling, you relaxed.
Eventually, the bed was back to its original shape, and you left the room, passing Hans’ office as you headed downstairs. Much to your pleasure, the rest of the day was spent in solitude, but Hans did finally leave his office for dinner.
You had no idea how to approach asking him about the party, never having asked him before. You stared holes into your plate until you gathered enough courage to speak. “Are we going to Mr. Bronte’s party tomorrow?”
Hans stopped mid-bite, taken aback by your question. “I know you just got home,” you stammered, “but I would like to go. If that’s alright?” 
When a minute passed with just silence, you mentally chastised yourself. But you couldn’t hide the smile on your face when he finally spoke. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to go,” he murmured. “Is it tomorrow?”
“I know it’s a quick turnaround-”
“We’re going.” He cut you off. “There’s some people I need to talk to, anyway.”
You hoped you didn’t look too relieved. “Thank you.”
He merely waved your words off, going straight back to his food. 
The following twenty-four hours went by incredibly slowly, making you fidgety. But eventually, night came around, and you eagerly got dressed. The marks on your body were still very evident, so you went with a high-neck party dress, a dusty blush color, with skirts that ended at your ankles. Slipping on matching gloves and shoes, you decided to keep your hair down in case the dress didn’t cover everything. 
The carriage ride there was, as always, awkward and tense. You fidgeted with your silk gloves, having to expel your excitement somehow. You had no idea if Arthur was actually going to be here tonight, but you certainly hoped. 
After a tortuous thirty minutes, the carriage finally halted in front of a grand house on the outskirts of Saint Denis, a home you’d come to know quite well over the past two years. You flashed a practiced smile to the gentleman who opened the carriage door, taking his hand as he helped you out. Hans got out on the other side, meeting you as you stood at the entrance, saying a small thank-you to the man who helped you.
After being asked for any weapons, Hans extended an arm to you, which you took, linking your arms together. He nodded to the servants before walking up the stairs, you by his side. Even you had to admit that the two of you looked like the definition of high-class, regal even. With your well-crafted dress and his well-fitted tuxedo, the two of you certainly made a sight. If you weren’t already so well-known, you were confident you’d be the talk of the town now if the various heads that turned towards you as you entered the party told you anything. 
Taking a deep breath, you calmed your racing heart and pulled up the mask you’d created over the past two years. The two of you had barely gotten down the stairs of the porch before people were talking to you. Well, to Hans, more specifically. They treated you like an accessory, and you couldn’t be more glad now. You had no desire to talk to these people with their fake niceties and shallow words. You only wanted to speak to one person right now, and you scanned the crowd for his rugged face. 
You prayed that you didn’t look too disappointed when your search bore no results and focused your attention on the conversation before you. You merely caught snip-its, something about the tobacco fields of the Braithwaites. You didn’t really care, though, so you let yourself zone out.
The first hour of the party went similarly, accompanying Hans as he talked to other men. Occasionally, someone would extend a compliment your way, and you’d bat your lashes and thank them, but that would be it. They wouldn’t ask about your opinion on the matter they were discussing or if you had any advice or comments. Additionally, not one person asked you how you were doing, so you drowned your loneliness in glasses of very delicious champagne. 
And when this hour went by, and you didn’t see Arthur, or any of the Van Der Linde gang for that matter, you were kicking yourself for being so eager to go to the party. It was exhausting, participating in an environment that treated you like you didn’t exist, a mere accessory for your husband.
Your disappointment ceased to exist, though, when a familiar silver-haired man passed you, shooting you a double-take as he did. A small smile graced his lips, and he nodded politely at you, which you returned. A larger, brown-haired man accompanied him and nodded to you as well. Hans was too caught up in his current conversation to notice, and after you leaned and whispered that you would be right back, you untangled your arm from his and made your way to the duo.
“Enjoying the party, Mrs. Kerrigan?” You heard Hosea ask, bowing his head slightly. 
“With the current company, yes,” you chuckled. “How are you, Hosea?”
“Irritated because I have to spend my night with these buffoons,” he muttered so only you could hear. “No offense to you, miss.”
“None taken. And you, Bill? Are you well?”
If he was surprised you remembered who he was, he didn’t show. “Can’t say I disagree with Hosea.”
“Me neither. If I’ve gotta be in one more conversation where people act like I don’t exist, I’m gonna lose it,” you sighed. “But that’s a far more difficult issue to resolve. What brings you to party tonight, gentlemen?”
At this point, Bill excused himself from the conversation, nodding politely before entering the crowd. “Dutch wants us to scope out some jobs while getting into the pocket of Angelo Bronte.”
“You’ve got quite the task before you, then.” Hosea shook his head. “I take it you don’t like it?”
“Nothing good comes from getting close to authority. You don’t need me to tell you that. From what I’ve heard, you know much about our recent relationships with certain figures.” An image of Leigh Gray flashed in your mind, and you nodded. 
“But that’s enough talk like that for tonight. You don’t have to trouble yourself with our matters, but we do appreciate it. Besides, there’s been a certain someone who’s been looking for you since the moment we arrived.” Hosea’s eyes flicked to something above and behind you with a knowing expression.
Containing your eagerness, you turned, following the direction of his gaze. You couldn’t help your grin as your gaze landed on the porch. Standing by each other, deep in conversation, was Dutch and Bronte, cigars dangling from their lips as they spoke. And beside them, an almost outsider in the conversation, much like you’d been the entire night, was Arthur Morgan.
His attention was very clearly far from the conversation, as his blue eyes were firmly planted on you, and even from this distance, you could see his smile, slightly obscured by a cigar. He looked even better than you imagined in a tux, black material clinging to his broad shoulders and tapered waist. Before you began to stare, you tore your gaze away, ignoring the heat on your cheeks.
“How’re things with my husband,” you muttered, leaning into Hosea so only he could hear your words. 
“We’ve been meaning to talk to him,” Hosea admitted.
“Well, let me introduce you.” Straightening, you cast one final glance at Arthur as you wove between the crowds, Hosea hot on your heels. Arthur leaned over to murmur something to Dutch, but his eyes still never left you, even as Hosea gestured to him. 
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’d bewitched him,” Hosea teased, making you laugh. 
“It certainly does feel that way, doesn’t it?” You laughed back, sobering when you saw Hans out of the corner of your eye. He was still deep in conversation, and you shot Hosea an apologetic look as you returned to your spot on Hans’ arm. You now had your back to Arthur, but you could still feel his gaze.
Hans only talked for a few moments before his acquaintances dispersed. “Dear, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” you murmured, angling your head to Hosea. Like a flipped switch, Hosea dropped the casual attitude he’d had with you and had switched to one of pure professionalism and suaveness. You knew he had a silver tongue, but it was astounding to see it in action. 
“Hosea Matthews, how do you do, sir?” Hosea extended a hand, which your husband shook eagerly. 
“A pleasure, Mr. Matthews. The name’s Hans Kerrigan and it appears you’ve already met my wife,” he glanced down at you momentarily. 
You shot Hosea a tight-lipped smile, and you shook his hand as well. Hosea went straight into business, talking about how he was the head of some new security agency in New Austin, something you knew damn well didn’t exist. But Hans was falling into his trap, which made you nearly laugh. Hans seemed almost to light up when Hosea mentioned security, so you knew the first part of their plan had succeeded. So that’s why he had come home looking so stressed: they had wreaked havoc on his business. 
The two men continued to talk for a long while, and you fought the urge to look behind you, knowing once you did, you wouldn’t be able to look away. Hosea’s eyes flicked behind you and Hans before raising his brows at you with a ghost of a smirk. “Here, let me introduce you to two of my compatriots.”
You bit your lips to stop a smile as Dutch and Arthur slid in beside Hosea. Recognition flashed across Hans’ features as he looked at the two new men. “I believe we’ve already had the pleasure. You’re the deputies from Rhodes, right?”
Dutch shot you a look, and you mouthed he doesn’t know back, and your words relieved the black-haired man. “That’s right, Mr. Kerrigan.”
“Good evening, Mr. Van Der Linde,” you greeted him warmly as Hans shook his hand before turning to Arthur. God, keeping your composure was so much more challenging than you thought it would be as you finally looked at him. There he was, the man who had stolen your heart, who had seen you at your most vulnerable, and you had to act like you didn’t want to jump into his arms right there. “It’s Mr. Marston, right?”
Hosea coughed, a poorly hidden chuckle, and even Dutch had to look away before he burst into a laugh. Biting your cheek, you watched Arthur almost look offended, shaking his head slightly. “It’s Morgan, ma’am,” he muttered, extending a hand to you. 
“My sincerest apologies, Mr. Morgan,” you gasped while shaking his hand. Barely contained desire flashed across his face as his hand encompassed yours, a hefty sigh moving his chest. You pulled away before the handshake became too long, your hand returning to rest by your side. Arthur simply nodded, stepping back until he was shoulder-to-shoulder with Hosea, letting the conversation continue. 
As the four men spoke, you found yourself unable to resist the urge any longer, and you let your eyes wander to him. Every time you did, his attention would focus on you, even if he was in the middle of talking. Hans was none the wiser, chatting with the men as if they were long-lost friends. 
You found yourself bored, and some part of you wanted to see how far you could push Arthur in public. It started subtly, letting your eyes trail over his body shamelessly, unseen by the other conversation members. Arthur caught it, though, and every time you did it, you watched his body stiffen.
It grew less subtle, running your hands along your neck, both of you knowing what lay beneath the cloth covering it. A slight wince of pain left you as you rubbed a particularly sore spot, and Arthur quickly hid his balled-up hands behind his back, rocking on his heels slowly. 
Grabbing a flute of champagne, you took a sip, letting out a content noise as the bubbly drink hit your mouth. When you pulled the glass down, a droplet spilled over the edge, and it began to run down the side of the glass. Without thinking, you ran your tongue along the glass, collecting the droplet before it hit your hand. It had been a complete accident, but even so, it finally broke Arthur. 
Arthur muttered something to Hosea before breaking away from the group, an unspoken command in his eyes as he walked away. As he passed, you could tell he wanted to reach out and touch you, but he refrained. Subtle glancing over your shoulder, you watched Arthur climb the porch stairs, disappearing into Bronte’s house.
You waited a few moments before excusing yourself and taking a different path to the house, discarding the glass along the way. It was easy to slip away, to be unnoticed by the crowds, and sneak along the high hedge bushes; eventually, you made your way inside. It was staggeringly quieter in the house, the party chatter now silenced, and all you could hear was the click of your heels and quickened breaths. 
You luckily met with no servants as you glanced around, trying to catch a glimpse of where Arthur went. Walking further in, you ended up on one of the hallways, doors lining each side. You didn’t pay them much mind, but you wished you did when you felt yourself dragged into one, a large hand grasping your wrist. 
Your cry of alarm was muffled by a palm over your mouth, and you nearly bit down until you heard Arthur's drawl. Pressed up against your back, you felt him lean down to your ear, making you shiver. “Were you noticed?” He asked, his voice quiet. 
Unable to speak still, you shook your head. “Good,” he muttered before he spun you around to face him. Lips replaced his palm, the force of the kiss nearly baking you up against the door. Your gloved hands tangled in his hair, meeting the desperation of the kiss, pulling him as close as you could to his body. 
“God, I need ya,” you heard him groan.
“You’ve got me, Arthur.”
“We’ve gotta be quick, darlin’.” You felt his hands run down your body, grasping the backs of your thighs. It took little urging from you to wrap your legs around his body, and he carried you further into the room. You had no idea what kind of room you were in, as the curtains had been drawn shut, leaving the room in almost complete darkness. But dust tickled your nose, and you knew you probably wouldn’t expect anyone to come in soon. 
Still, Arthur was able to navigate the room with ease, and you felt him ease you back down onto a wooden surface. Papers pressed against your back, and you realized you were in an office of sorts, and Arthur had just laid you down on a desk. “D’you know how hard it’s been to keep my eyes off you tonight?” Arthur asked, making you laugh softly. 
“I didn’t think you were tryin’,” you joked. 
“It’s hard to when I just wanna rip this dress off of ya.” Hands braced on either side of your head, and even though you couldn’t see, you knew his face was inches from yours. “And then you decide to tease me. It took everythin’ in me not to take ya right there,” his voice had turned into a growl.
“Arthur-”
“Roll over.” His weight left your body, and you heard the unmistakable sound of his belt buckle as he undid it. Your head spun as excitement and arousal made your body buzz, and you were almost grateful for the dark so that Arthur couldn’t see how eagerly you complied. 
Your feet were barely on the ground as you rested your upper body on the desk, your forearms holding you up. Your breath caught when you felt the skirt of your dress lift, the material ticking your skin as it brushed against it. Arthur had the skirt in a fist at your hip, his other hand trailing over your ass, running his fingers along the edge of your undergarments. “You’ve gotta look so beautiful, bent over like this,” he whispered in the dark. 
“We’ll just have to do it again.”
“Oh, gladly.”
Cold air hit your center as Arthur tugged the garment down, letting it pool at your ankles. You knew neither had time to build things up, but you were still surprised when you felt him press into you. You must’ve made some noise as he eased in, as one of his hands wrapped around to cover your mouth. 
“Gotta be quiet, darlin’,” he whispered, a slight strain in his voice. 
You nodded, stifling your noises as best you could. You were thankful that Arthur kept his hand over your mouth, as you doubted you’d be able to continue to stifle them for long. 
When Arthur’s hips became flush with yours, you both sighed softly, the stretch of him a familiar ache. He leaned forward, and you felt the lightest kiss placed between your clothed shoulders. That was all the warning you got before he was setting a viscous pace, the buckle of his belt hitting your skin with every snap of his hips. Muffled noises spilled from behind Arthur’s hand, a mix of praises and moans and his name. 
You were thankful that the desk he currently had you bent over was sturdy, the soft groan of wood instead of loud creaks, and it remained in its place as he moved. Even through the silk gloves, your nails dug into the skin of your palms as you tried and failed to make as little noise as possible. It proved to be an impossible task with how desperately he was fucking you, hitting all the right spots inside of you. You could do nothing but let your eyes flutter close as pleasure caressed your body, and you could feel your eventual release begin to grow. 
The sound of laughter outside made your eyes shoot open, and in a moment of panic, you tried to get up. Arthur was having none of it, and he used his body weight to keep you pinned to the desk. “Now ya really gotta be quiet,” his voice came out breathy, unfaltering in his movements. “Unless ya want everyone to see you like this.”
You’re not sure why you reacted the way you did, but the idea made you shudder, and Arthur felt it in more ways than one. “Oh, you’d like that?” He asked, a hint of disbelief in his words. Your cheeks burned, shame and embarrassment and excitement making your body warm. “You want everyone to see the respectable Mrs. Kerrigan bent over a desk, fallin’ apart just for me?” You barely heard his words, but you found yourself nodding anyway. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that’s a sight only I get to see.”
Current circumstances notwithstanding, you would’ve commented that he couldn’t see you right now. But your comment faded in your mind as soon as it came, and you just sighed against his palm. 
Thankfully, the sound of laughter and voices receded, and in the back of your mind, you felt relief. But you hardly recognized it, especially when you felt his hand sneak between your thighs and begin to rub at your clit. The movement of his fingers, just like his hips, was quick and hurried, and you found yourself rapidly approaching your release. 
Praises spilled from his lips and into your ear, which was all you needed to reach your end. Your knees buckled as you came, your entire body being held up by the desk as pleasure washed over you. Your head spun, both from your release and the lack of oxygen, and Arthur seemed to realize this as you felt him pull his hand away. As quietly as you could, you sucked in air as Arthur chased his own release, fingers digging into his hips. 
Even though you were drunk on lust, you knew the implications of your following words as you uttered them. “Inside, Arthur,” you gasped, voice scratchy. His pace faltered, and you knew that he heard you. “I wanna feel you for the rest of the night.”
“Oh, fuck…” You felt his head rest between your shoulders, and you felt his warm breath through the material of your dress. You didn’t have to see him to know he was biting down harshly on his lip to keep himself quiet, but a small groan did leave him as he came. Warmth spread through your lower body, making you gasp quietly. 
He took a few moments to catch his breath before easing off and out of you. You had no idea where he went, so you jumped when you felt his fingers brushing up your legs, securing your undergarments back on your body. He rubbed your back as he brought your skirt back down, almost like he was thanking you. 
Using the desk for support, you turned around, making a small noise when you felt his release spill from you. Hands grasped your waist, and you were being tugged into a surprisingly gentle kiss from Arthur. Your arms went around his neck, holding him close. 
“I missed you,” you heard him murmur when he pulled away, head resting against yours.
“I missed you too.” It felt too simple of a response to encompass just how deeply you did miss him, but it would have to do. 
“You look beautiful tonight.” You smiled at the sincerity in his voice.
“You clean up well yourself, Mr. Morgan.”
“I thought it was Mr. Marston.” He still sounded irked by your comment, which made you laugh. 
“You have to admit, it was kind of funny.”
“Dutch and Hosea certainly seemed to think so.”
You hummed. “They seemed to be goin’ a good job buttering up Hans.”
He scoffed. “They didn’t have to try that hard. He’s almost a bit too eager.”
“D’you think he knows?”
“Doubt it. He’s desperate, and we just offered him the perfect solution.”
“I’m glad everything’s working out, then.”
“We’ve got some good scores lined up, too. We’re plannin’ on hittin’ the bank in town soon,” you fought back the dread that made you feel, “which should hopefully give us enough money to get the law off us and to… to start a new life.” Arthur sighed, and he seemed nervous. “Darlin’, would-”
A loud booming sound rocked the room, making you both jump apart. Bright flashes of color poured in from between the curtains, and you laughed in relief. “Fireworks,” you murmured, a bit amazed by the vibrant colors.
The flashes of light allowed you to see Arthur a bit, and he deflated a bit. “We should probably get back to the party.”
You frowned. “Already?”
“As much as I’d like to spend the rest of the night here, every minute of you bein’ gone raises suspicion.”
You hated how right he was. “Fine,” you sighed, your frown deepening when Arthur stepped away, your hands falling to your sides. But it seemed that he, too, couldn’t be away for long because you felt him grab one of your hands as he led you to the door, thumb tracing mindless patterns into your skin. Loud booms continued to rattle the building, and as you stepped outside, you heard the excitement from the crowds. 
When Arthur opened it, the beam of light that hit your eyes made you squint, and you watched as he made sure the hallway was clear before leading you out. He dropped your hand, not before pressing a kiss to the back of it, and he turned to face you. You had to bite back a laugh when you saw the disarray his hair was in, and you ushered him to bend down. Your gloves just created static, and fixing it took more effort than it should have. His eyes never left yours as you worked, a soft smile tugging his lips, which you returned. 
“There you go,” you murmured. “Perfect, as always.”
A light dusting of pink appeared on his cheeks as he stood upright. “Thank you, darlin’.”
“How do I look?”
Blue eyes roamed your body, an almost thoughtful expression on his face. “Words can’t do it justice, darlin’.” That certainly wasn’t what you asked, but you weren’t complaining. Not when he stared at you like you were Venus in the flesh, and you ducked your head. “But you look… put together.”
You certainly didn’t feel put together, but you trusted Arthur’s word. “You were sayin’ somethin’ earlier, before the fireworks.”
“It ain’t important,” Arthur quickly deflected, and you frowned, not liking that he was keeping something from you. “But that reminds me…” You watched Arthur reach inside his jacket, pulling out a small envelope. “A letter arrived for ya yesterday.”
“Is… is it from-”
“It is.” A fond smile appeared on his face at the sheer delight you radiated, and you took the letter he presented to you with shaky hands. Your name was written across the front in your mother's handwriting, and you chuckled in disbelief. 
You caught Arthur off guard when you nearly tackled him in a hug, forcing him to stumble back a few steps. Cautiously, like he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, you felt his hand settle on your back, the other holding the back of your head, cradling you to his body. “Thank you, Arthur,” you murmured, your words muffled by his suit jacket. Taking a deep breath, you smelled tobacco and gunpowder. It seemed no amount of dolling up could change that. 
“You don’t gotta thank me.”
You ignored him. “I owe you for this.”
Footsteps echoed across the room, forcing you two to pull apart. Even though every part of you screamed to rip the letter open, you knew you weren’t in the suitable space to do it. Carefully, you folded the letter, which was already relatively small, to begin with, and you tucked it into the palm of your glove, hidden away for now. “I’ll read it when I get home.”
There was a respectable amount of space between your bodies now, and you hated it. You both tensed as the footsteps grew closer, and you both flashed polite smiles to the guests who passed. They didn’t seem to recognize you, and you breathed a sigh of relief. “We… we should probably head back to the party.”
Arthur hesitantly nodded. “I’ve got a few things I need to take care of here. I’ll meet ya out there.”
“Up to no good, are we?” 
His responding smirk said all you needed to know. “Go before someone comes lookin’.” Shaking your head lightly, you shot him one last smile before walking past him. You weren’t surprised when you felt him grab your hand, rolling your eyes affectionately. 
“Arthur…” Your words were cut off when he brought your hand up to his lips, the pure adoration in his eyes making you gasp. When he placed three kisses in rapid succession on your knuckles, it took every ounce of willpower not to drag him back into that room. You both knew what he meant by those three kisses, something he had yet to say. But it was a start. 
Your heart hammered in your chest as he dropped your hand and took a few steps back, creating a sense of finality in the conversation. “I’ll see ya out there, darlin’.”
“You better,” you muttered before backing up, not wanting to turn away from him just yet. But as you turned out of the hallway, you lost sight of him, so you faced forward. Walking back to the party alone, you blushed when you felt the remnants of him between your legs, reminding you of what had just transpired.
No one looked as you descended the porch stairs, everyone too distracted by the fireworks show. You were easily able to sneak back to your spot next to Hans, who, too, was also transfixed by the show. He merely nodded your way when you linked your arms, apparently not even fazed by your disappearance. 
Hosea and Dutch were still standing by Hans; their backs turned as they watched the show. You watched as the older man leaned into the other, whispering something to him. You could not distinguish what he said, but Dutch laughed, clapping Hosea on the back. 
The show lasted about five more minutes, and even though the sight was incredible, you couldn’t bring yourself to enjoy it. How could you, when Arthur occupied every corner of your mind? How could you, when the letter in your glove burned your skin?
The man plaguing your thoughts returned shortly after, and the disbelieving look that Hosea gave him made you nearly laugh. When Arthur stood by his side, he also leaned into him, and even though you couldn’t see Arthur’s face, you knew he was either blushing or scoffing based on how he shook his head. 
Hans right returned to business mode, wrapping up the discussion with Dutch and Hosea. You’re not sure how much time passed as you spaced out a bit, but suddenly, the two men were wishing you a good night. “Have a good night, gentlemen,” you nodded to them before directing your attention to Arthur. “You as well, Mr. Morgan.”
Your eyes followed the group until they were long gone, fighting the hitch in your breath when Arthur glanced over his shoulder right at the last moment. The longing was evident on his face, but it was broken when Bill made some comment, and you figured that the other three men were laughing at Arthur’s expense. 
You and Hans stayed at the party until late in the night, when exhaustion pulled at your already aching muscles, and your feet felt like lead in your shoes. You nearly sagged in relief when Hans led you to the front of the house, calling for your carriage. 
You almost immediately excused yourself to the bedroom when you got home, nearly running into the attached bathroom and locking the door. The idea of washing up was the last thing on your mind as you tore off your glove, the letter falling into the sink as you did. Some ink from the envelope had stained your skin, but you didn’t care. 
The sound of paper ripping filled the room. Your hands were sweaty as you held the letter up, and tears formed in your eyes as you read the words in your mother’s handwriting. 
My beautiful daughter,
You have no idea how happy it makes my heart to hear from you. The house has become joyless without you in it. How I long to hear your laughter fill it.
I must admit, I never expected to hear from you again, but how glad I am that my expectations were wrong. After you ran off, I thought we’d never hear from you again.  But it seems you’ve done well for yourself. Seeing a different last name was a bit of a shock, but how glad I am that you’ve found someone to marry! All I hope is that they treat you well and that you’re happy. 
I must stop by and see you! Perhaps bring a few of your siblings. Oh, how they have missed you! Do let your husband know to expect a visit from us soon!
Much love,
Irene
Happiness quickly wore off as the contents of the second paragraph hit you. Confusion made your brow furrow, and you grasped the counter edge for stability. She thought you ran off? Did your father not tell anyone about the marriage he had set up for you? Why was he lying to the rest of your family?
But then another realization hit you, one that made the tears in your eyes finally fall. You were going to see your family again. 
59 notes · View notes
doraambrose · 9 hours
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What are some daily annoyances Jason should have to deal with at least once like everyone else? Can't find a parking spot, people queue jumping in front of him, someone making an unexpected and sudden turn and crashing into him (with or without a car), sudden bad weather, water splashing onto him from a puddle because someone drove into it etc etc. To make him more human, you know
Hello friend!
Probably yes to all of that lol.
There's probably been times where he wants a book from the library, but it's been checked out and he has to put it on hold.
he probably has those days where he's got to do chores like dishes, trash, laundry, etc. And he's procrastinated long enough that they all have to be done on the same day, but he's too tired to do them
Everyone driving is too slow for him and he's had days where he gets every red light possible
A fast food restaurant or doordash like delivery service has probably given him the wrong order
Maybe he orders something on Amazon and it's not what he expected and he has to return it
Maybe there's a line for the public bathroom and he's really got to go
He also seems like the kind of person to make plans and then the day of the plan, he wants to cancel and sleep instead
Crying babies and hyperactive kids in public places gives him headaches for sure
He's definitely gotten home from the grocery store and realized he forgot something
So yeah, he probably has most of the annoyances that alot of people face lol
This was an interesting question. Thanks for the ask!
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trippinsorrows · 5 hours
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with me + part five
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authors notes: hi! you guys are so freaking awesome and sweet and like gawww, so grateful for such kind words and support!
so i realized that i used the wwe names for jimmy, jey, naomi, etc. that was my bad. i'll be using their real names moving forward for the sake of flow and consistency.
also keep forgetting to state that current timeline is 2023. like, this chapter is fall 2023. everything, so far, post breakup for joe and reader has been 2023. i plan to follow that timeline, so make of that what you will.
i hope this chapter isn't too boring to people!
warnings: fluff, language, suggestive content
song inspo: with me by destiny’s child
words: 5.7k
tags: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wonderingfashion
“So, are we just going to continue to ignore each other?”
You’re not sure how, but you sense his presence long before he even says anything. And instantly, your mood is dampened, not that you were in the best spirits to begin with. You didn’t get much sleep the night before, for reasons you cannot fathom. But, it’s annoying as hell, especially when you have an ex turned fuck buddy who can’t seem to get a fucking clue ready to confront you outside of your daughter's preschool.
Sighing heavily, you pull out your phone to play around with your lock screen, because you really don’t have anyone you need to message in this moment. But, he doesn’t need to know that. “Not now, Amir.”
“Because you’re so busy?”
“Because I don’t care.” One thing you’ve learned about yourself over the years is that once you’re annoyed with someone, there’s no filter on your mouth and you cannot be held liable for what comes out of it. “Now, please, go away.”
He just looks at you, sun shining down on his waves and chocolate complexion. It’s unfortunate outside of his looks that he’s an overall trash partner. Decent friend. Shitty boyfriend. “You always do that shit, you know? Pull and then push. It was kinda cute when we were kids. Now, it’s just annoying.”
You were standing outside of Callie’s preschool, waiting for the kids to be dismissed, waiting for your little girl to come running out with a smile on her face, request on the tip of her tongue. It’s usually something small like wanting to show you what she learned in school. Lately, it’s been the same.
Can I call Joe?
A part of you feels bad for the amount of calls he probably gets in one day just from Callie alone. She took your offer for her to call him whenever he was available to another degree, not that he minded. He took as many as he could, listening to her talk and talk about whatever happened to be on her mind in that moment. And you let her.
What kind of mother would you be if you stopped her from talking to her dad? Even if she doesn’t know that’s who he is. 
It’s been almost two weeks since he left, and she clearly misses him. You often overhear her asking about when he’s coming again. You also receive those questions. It’s something you and him discuss via text but haven’t landed on a date yet. 
Communicating with Joe is also something that’s still an adjustment. It’s not as difficult or uncomfortable, because it’s almost entirely about Callie, but still. 
“If that’s the case, why do you bother?” You manage a less insensitive tone, even if you know good and well you’ve never led this man on. Amir has always heard and believed what he wanted to believe. That was the problem. He never listened to you.
“Because I fucking care about your annoying ass, duh.”
His delivery, the tone, and cadence. You laugh. It’s probably inappropriate at the moment, but it does bring a smile to his face as well. “Softie.”
He moves closer to you, arms crossed. “I’m serious, Y/N. You know how I feel about you. How I’ve always felt about you.” 
Leaning against your car, you respond as calmly as you can, “and you know I’ve always made it clear I’m not looking for anything more. We had our time, Amir. It didn’t work out. Now we just help each other get off. I don’t know why you keep trying to make it more than what it is.”
“A date. One date,” he implores. A waste of time, because your answer is no. It’s been no and will continue to be no. “You haven’t even given ‘adult’ us a chance.”
There’s a headache in your near future, one that’s reminiscent of past ones only Amir seems to induce. It’s interesting how he went from indifferent asshole to clingy asshole. You almost miss the earlier version.
Chocolate was supposed to be good for the soul, so why was he so draining to yours?
“Amir…..” You try to pick your words carefully and be mindful of your tone. “This is getting real old. I think we need to stop messing around, because we’re clearly not on the same page.” The next part is something you probably shouldn’t share, but you call yourself trying to be open and clear. “Calista’s dad is back, and we’re trying to navigate coparenting, so—” 
“What?” He stops you, shock written over his handsome face. “Are you serious? You’re letting that motherfucker back in ya’ll life?”
This time, it’s his tone that jumps, accusatory and harsh. You immediately grow defensive. “You don’t know him.”
“God, why do you defend him like this? Is it that Stockholm Syndrome shit? He left you. He left you and his kid. What kind of man does that? And you’re just letting him back in? Just gonna jump back on his dick? Letting him around Callie? She’s old enough now to remember when he decides to leave again. I don’t get how you don’t see that. You her mama. You supposed to look out for her.”
And now, you’re done trying to be nice, trying to be mindful that he’s still another human being with feelings. Because one thing you never have and never will tolerate is someone insinuating you’re not looking out for your daughter. You’re not perfect, but you know that you’re a devoted, dutiful mother. 
“It’s obvious comprehension isn’t your strong suit, which I should have known based off the fact that I always had to help your dumbass do your homework back when we were in school.” All bets….off. “My baby? My life? My pussy? All my business. You don’t get to judge the decisions I make for my child nor the role that her father has in her life. That’s between me and him. Keep your nose out my fucking business. Don’t worry about me hitting you up anymore. That’s dead.”
Your rose will do just fine. Hell, there’s gotta be at least one other eligible bachelor in town you could fuck if absolutely need be. But, you know damn well you won’t be messaging Amir anymore. He comes with too much baggage. It’s not worth it. You refuse to let a nigga whose height starts with a 5 stress you out.
True to his nature, he starts gaslighting you. Typical Amir. “There you go overreacting and shit.”
“No, I’m not. You’re trying to question my parenting when you don’t know shit about shit.”
He sucks his teeth, rolling his eyes. This was why people used to say you had a temper in high school. Because of him. Because he loved to tell people what you said but never what he did. Always tried to make you feel crazy. Truth be told, you’re stupid for even opening that door with him again, even if it’s just for sex.
“Whatever, Y/N.” He turns to walk back over to his car. You really wish his damn sister would change her work schedule so she can pick up her son instead of this asshole. You’ll catch a case fucking with his dumbass. “I’ll wait for your text.”
He’ll be waiting. “Fuck you, Amir.” 
You should be more mindful of your language at a damn preschool, but Amir has managed to get under your skin, something that hasn’t happened since you were in college. You know a good part of it is because you’re sleep deprived, but you also know it’s partially because of his dig at Joe.
You understand the optics seem to indicate that he’s a deadbeat, but you’ve expressed to Amir countless times that it was a complicated situation. He didn’t know the specifics, but you made it clear Joe didn’t abandon you or Callie. That’s just the narrative Amir keeps running with, and now with Joe being back in your life and especially in Callie’s life, you’re not gonna let it continue. 
“Mommy!” Your head snaps to see and feel Callie run up to and hug her body against your leg. “Boo!”
Shit. Did she hear any of that? You hope not and paste on a smile that’s hopefully authentic enough to sell that everything is fine. “Callie Bear.” You lean down and pick her up, kissing her cheek. “Did you have a good day?”
She nods and starts explaining the activities while you buckle her into her carseat, trying your best to calm down and not give away your high stress levels in that moment. Callie is super perceptive, and you don’t want to ruin the obviously great day she’s had.
And sure enough, as you’re putting on your seatbelt and starting up the car, the golden question is shouted with pre-excitement. 
“Can I call Joe when I get home?”
Smiling at her through the rearview mirror, you answer, “yes, you can.”
In the almost two weeks that have passed since Joe’s departure, not one day has passed that Callie doesn’t asks to call Joe or just outright helps yourself to her iPad to call him. Sometimes several times a day during the weekends. And she’ll talk to him for as long as she can, as long as he’s able to hold a conversation with her. You’ll give it to him, he’s done an exceptional job handling all of it. On some level, you wonder if you should set some restrictions or time parameters, but how do you limit how much a daughter interacts with her father?
Callie rejoices at your approval and requests for you to put on the Disney playlist you made specifically for her on Spotify. 
The drive, no more than 10 minutes, consists of the two of you singing along to a few Disney tunes. It’s a bit of a tradition between you, a way to bond via your shared love of Disney. A love that ties not only you to her but to the women before you. Your mom and grandma. 
Arriving to your apartment complex, you decide to leave your work bag in the car. It’s Thanksgiving break. You most likely won’t do any work until the day or two before having to return.
You do carry Callie on your hip and swing her bag around your shoulder, walking the two of you up to the second floor. Sometimes, you regret not accepting the apartment they had available on the first floor. The older you get, the less your joints like to cooperate, your almost 15 years of cheer probably taking a toll on your body. 
And just age in general. 
But your regret quickly turns to a level of gratitude when you reach your door. 
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
Dropping Callie to the floor, she’s of the complete opposite reaction, gasping and smiling broadly. 
“Look mommy, more boxes!”
The smile is strained but you manage to maintain it, sticking the key in the door, unlocking and pushing it open.
She walks in, and you place her bag on the floor near the door, one foot keeping it open. “What do you think it is?” She asks as you pick them up and bring them inside, kicking the door closed behind you.
You know exactly what it is. What it all is. 
Gifts.
From Joe. 
In his absence, you’ve had several deliveries waiting outside your door when you got home from work and picking Callie up. And all of them were for Callie, gifts of variable nature but all of them things she loves. Disney, stuffed animals, dolls. Essentially anything that could make a 4 year old feel like she’s won the lottery. 
She’s literally bouncing on her toes, already with her kids scissors in her hands. 
When the hell did she grab those?
“Can I open them, please? Please?”
A part of you wants to say no, save them for christmas gifts, though you’re almost entirely certain he’ll have another set of gifts for her then. And it seems almost cruel to make her wait over a month when she knows there are presents waiting for her.
“Sure, but….” You scamper into the kitchen and grab your adult size scissors, returning and showing her. “Let mommy cut them, and then you open them.”
You don’t need this child accidentally cutting herself. Again, medical bills are not in the budget, especially around the holidays. Money’s already tight to some extent. 
Not that….not that it’d be much of an issue with Callie. You’d never fix your moth to ask Joe for anything, especially not financially, but if it was something involving your daughter, you’re pretty sure your tune would change. It would still bother you to ask for help, but you know he’d have zero qualms helping you out.
He’d probably pay for it in its entirety.
Your proposition pleases her. “Okay!” She places her scissors on the nearest flat surface and sits down, legs crossed, bouncing impatiently. 
Chuckling, you glide your scissors across, careful not to open anything. You want to save that moment for her and your plan. 
Once done, you place the scissors on the kitchen island and reach for your phone. “Wait before you open, baby.” 
Immediately, she frowns and scowls, “whyyyyyy.”
Rolling your eyes, you sit on the floor too to be at her eye level and open Snapchat. “Okay, now.” 
You hit record and watch intermittently through and outside of the screen as she opens the boxes, smile permanent and excitement palpable. She especially gets excited when she pulls out a freaking box of the new Little Mermaid and all of her sisters. More….dolls. 
“Look, mommy!!!” She then grabs a doll who has a surprisingly similar complexion and curl pattern to hers, holding it against her face. “She looks like me!”  
“She does,” you agree, realizing it’s a customized American Girl doll. Damn. Those things can run up to $200. You weren’t stupid, knowing Joe’s probably spent more money on Callie alone in two weeks than you’ve spent all year, but just how much has he spent?
It’s when she opens the final box, surrounded by nothing but toys and packaging that you’re already dreading having to stuff all this in your trash bin, “what do you say, baby?”
Callie hugs the American Doll close to her chest and directs to the camera, “thank you, Joe!” She gasps and adds on, “I miss you, but mommy said I can call you tonight!”
You hold back your giggle and agree, adding, “after she helps mommy clean up all this.” 
Her smile drops, pout returning, “I hate cleaning.” 
Snickering, you mutter, “you and me too, sis.” 
You end the video, save it and enter Joe’s chat to attach the video, adding a message.
You: You’re spoiling her, Joe. 😫 This is the third delivery this week alone. 
You’re able to clean up some of the packaging and throw it away before your phone chimes with his response. Callie has grabbed the amount you expected her to grab and discard. Her attention span is trash at the moment. She’s a child surrounded by toys. It’s expected. 
Joe: She's my little girl. Of course, I’m gonna spoil her.
Joe: There should be another one by the weekend. If not, let me know.
You sigh aloud, this man is gonna have your place looking like freaking KB Toys.
You: Omg
You: ….You know I live in an APARTMENT, right? Just where the hell am I supposed to put all of this stuff?
It’s sweet he’s so keen on gifting her these things, but he also has to realize you’re not living in a mansion in Malibu. And despite having a child who leaves messes wherever she goes, you do your best to keep your place tidy. 
 If you didn’t know Joe, didn’t see how easily he connected with Callie, you’d maybe accuse him of trying to “buy” her love. But, you know that’s not the case, know that he clearly just wants to make her happy. You just hope he knows that he does that all by himself, no gifts needed. 
Joe: She has a whole playroom.
You: Yes. Playroom, not Toys-R-Us. 
Joe: 🤷🏽‍♂️
You: 🙄 You’re aggravating.
He doesn’t say anything after that, so you decide to finish cleaning because at some point your child wandered off, most likely to her playroom to add all her new stuff with her slightly new stuff. Taking advantage of the alone time, you also decide to text your mom to figure out thanksgiving plans. Specifically, what drink, dessert, and/or condiments she wants you to bring because you damn well know she won’t ask you to cook.
She still hasn’t forgiven you for that accidental fire that one year.
And it’s when you’re sitting on the sofa, also starting to think about black friday plans that your mind wanders, your anxiety grows out of nowhere.
You’ve taken the approach to not have any say in Joe’s relationship with Callie, to intervene only when absolutely necessary. And as that hasn’t hasn’t occurred, you’ve not done so. You let him and her do their thing. But a small part of you wonders if you should put some parameters around Callie. She calls him several times a day, Joe, who spends more time on the road than there are days in the year.
You know he wants to establish a relationship with her, but that can be done with boundaries. Anxiety getting the best of you, you grab your phone and shoot him a text. 
You: Is it okay if she calls you today? I know it’s been a lot, and if too much, just let me know. I’ll talk to her. 
His reply comes almost immediately this time around.
Joe: She can call me 100 times. I don’t care. I wanna talk to her.
And instantly, the anxiety is almost non-existent. Deep down, you know this is what he wants. He wants to have interaction with her, and incessant Facetime calls are the only option with his crazy schedule, so it’s what he takes. It’s what he wants. 
Pleased and no longer stressing over an issue that was never an issue, you lock your phone and place it back at your side. A quick glance at the clock reminds you that it’s almost time for Callie’s bath. 
A couple minutes later, your phone dings with a text notification. From Joe.
You open it right away. 
Joe: This weekend. Don’t tell her. I wanna surprise her. 
You have to read it a couple of times before it registers. He’s coming back in town. This weekend. As in less than two days. You’re excited at this, happy as well. For Callie. But also, for yourself. Why? You haven’t a clue, well, maybe there’s a slight clue, but you don’t want to acknowledge that right now. 
You simply want to focus on the fact that you’re happy your daughter will be happy her dad is town. 
Who cares that you will be too.
________
Joe’s just walked out the bathroom, having showered and almost entirely prepped for bed when his phone rings. 
Moving over to the hotel nightstand, he’s surprised when he sees Callie’s smiling face filling his screen. A glance at the clock in the corner of his phone reads 11:06, which means it’s 9:06 her time. Well past her bedtime. What is she doing up?
Curious, and regardless, he answers the phone. It takes a second for the connection to finalize when it does, he’s instantly smiling, mostly because it’s Callie but also because of her setup.
It’s obvious she’s under a blanket, a flashlight in the corner illuminating the space, a stuffed animal in her lap. 
She’s the first to speak, her voice both loud and hushed in a way only she can do. “hi!”
“Hi, sweetheart.” He can’t help but ask almost immediately, “what are you doing up?” As he told you, he’d talk to her 24/7 if he could. And even though this call is unexpected and appreciated, she’s also a 4-year-old kid who needs her sleep.
Her little shoulders lift in a shrug. “I can’t sleep.”
Nodding, he follows up with, “where’s mommy?” 
“Sleeping,” she answers with a level of disappointment. “I don’t wanna wake her up. She had a bad day.”
“Really?” Joe moves around so he’s laying on the bed, on his side, phone propped on the nightstand. “How do you know?”
“Cause–cause she was yelling at Mr. Amir, and–and he was yelling at her too.”
Joe hasn’t a clue why, but that instantly upsets him. Who the fuck is this Amir person, and who the hell does he think he is to raise his voice at you? Around Callie of all people.
“Who is Mr. Amir?” Joe hates asking her all of these questions, but it’s also hard not to. 
“The basketball coach at the school for big kids.” She’s caressing the fur of the stuffed animal in her lap. “Aunt Mariah said he was mommy’s boyfriend when she was a big kid.”
“Really.” It’s not really a question as much as it is a general statement. Joe doesn’t know why he’s suddenly annoyed, not with Callie, but the entire situation. And definitely this Amir person even more now. He’s an ex. He dated you. It shouldn’t make him feel any type of way, but it does, and he hates that shit. 
He hates a man he’s never even met.
“I don’t like Mr. Amir,” Callie suddenly announces with a scowl. Same, kid. Same. Joe looks at her, seeing so much of you in her right now. He knows you’ve mentioned how you see a lot of him in Callie, but when she’s glowering like this, she’s 100% her mama’s daughter. “He made mommy mad today.”
“Has he ever been mean to you?” Joe has to ask, because he’s also realizing a part of him is upset at the thought of Callie being around men. You’re a grown woman and allowed to do what you want, but bringing men around Callie….that’s an absolute fucking no. 
He doesn’t give a damn if he’s only been in her life for two weeks or two minutes. She’s his daughter, and outside of himself and family, who you date should be kept far away from his daughter.
Joe mentally prepares to have this conversation—potential argument—with you. 
“No,” she answers, slightly calmer. “He doesn’t like Disney.” She says it like it’s a sin, like it’s almost inconceivable for anyone to not like Disney.
Playing along with this, Joe gasps, grateful for the distraction that is Callie’s intricacies. “He sucks.”
“Yeah, he sucks,” she agrees, nodding. Joe has to keep his smile to himself. “Do you say bad words?”
The randomness and topic change take him by surprise, but he’s learning that you weren’t exaggerating when you said Callie was filled with incessant, unrelated questions. “Sometimes.” 
“Mommy does too,” she reveals. “Grandma says Jesus doesn’t want us to say bad words, but I heard grandma call Ms. Beverly from church a bitch.”
At that, Joe can’t help his laughter. Her delivery, the punctuation she puts on the word ‘bitch’, to how she seems to not even process that she’s just said a bad word. It’s hilarious. “Well, sometimes grown ups say things we shouldn’t, and you just make sure you’re not saying things you shouldn’t.” 
“Okay,” she agrees, almost sheepishly. And then, a yawn. “I’m sleepy.” 
Joe knew she was from the moment she called, but he had a feeling she just needed to get the whole Amir thing off her chest. She doesn’t seem like the child who likes to or even can hold things in, which is preferable. “You should try to go to sleep then, sweetheart.”
She wipes at her eyes, expression suddenly saddened. “When are you coming back? You’ve been gone a really long time.”
He’s torn in this moment, wanting to tell her that he’ll be there this weekend but also not wanting to get her hopes up in case something comes up. There’s few things that could come up to keep him from going to see her, wrestling be damned, but still. Life has a way of lifing. So, he goes with the safe yet disappointing answer.
“Soon, I promise.” She’s clearly indifferent to this answer and doesn’t say anything, instead shifts on her bed, moving to lay down. “You should really try to sleep, Callie.”
Eyes starting to blink, clearly her exhaustion catching up with her, she asks, softly, “will you stay with me till I fall asleep?”
Her request tugs at his heartstrings. “Of course, sweetie.” 
Seemingly pleased by this answer, she closes her eyes, and he watches. He stares at this tiny human whose existence he only learned about not even a month ago yet would do anything to make happy. Joe thinks about Callie constantly, finds himself smiling at the thought of some of the Snapchat videos you’d send him of her in all of her randomness. She was so entertaining, so full of life, a genuinely happy kid. His kid. 
And it’s why he’s going to find out more about this Amir guy and why Amir is having any type of interaction with his daughter. 
________
Joe: You should know she called me last night.
You’re in the middle of perusing early Black Friday deals, needing to budget for that now and taking full advantage of Callie being down for a nap. However, you frown, reading his message, not understanding why he’s stating the obvious. You were there when she asked for the iPad and when she returned it after the call was finished.
You: I’m aware….
Joe: No. After that. 
Your eyebrows arch together, confused.  
You: What? when?
Joe: It was 11 my time, so 9 yours.
You gasp, typing away, wondering how the hell she snuck in your room and managed a whole ass Facetime call without you hearing shit. Were you really that damn exhausted?
You: What the hell was she doing up at 9? What did she say?  No wonder she was crabby this morning. 
Joe: She said she couldn’t sleep.
You: A bad dream?
Joe: Naw, said you got into an argument with someone named Amir earlier that day and didn’t want to bother you….I think it was bothering her.
Your stomach twists at that. You had a feeling she’d overheard the incident with Amir, but you prayed that you were wrong. Clearly, you weren’t.
Joe: Who is Amir?
You pause at Joe’s question. Why is he asking this? What business of his is Amir? Irritation washes over you, but is waned by realizing he’s probably asking because of Callie. As her father, he has a right to know if you’re with someone, because for all he knows that someone could be around his daughter. 
You really are trying with this co-parenting thing.
You: A lot of things. A pain in the ass being the most recent one. 
You: We dated in high school and college on and off. He’s the basketball coach at our local high school. 
It’s more information than probably what’s necessary, but there’s this small, conflicting part of you that wants him to know you have no ties to Amir. That there are no feelings there and haven’t been for literal years. 
That you’re not with Amir.
Joe: Are you dating him again? Why were you arguing around Callie?
The interrogating is getting old, but you’re trying to play nice. Coparent peacefully. His delivery is off, but he has valid questions.
Sorta.
You: No. We just….we fuck around from time to time. He tries to make it more than what it is.  Was about that. 
You: I was waiting for her to be released from pre-school, and he picks up his nephew for his sister. It just happened, and I didn’t know/mean for her to hear.
Honestly, you’re more worried and concerned about Callie and how to approach this with her without making her feel like she was in trouble. Yes, she knows damn well she shouldn’t be on the iPad that late at night, but can you really be mad at her for talking to her dad about something that upset her?
Joe: You bring him around her?
You absolutely can be mad though at her dad who’s about to make you cuss him out next too. All of the questions are becoming too much. He gets to be concerned, but he doesn’t get to micromanage and invade. 
Feeling petty and recalcitrant, you type out a reply that you should probably think twice before sending.
But fuck it.
You: No. I only ride his dick at his place. 🙂 
There’s a small ounce of regret for being so crude, but not a whole lot. He knows how you are, or he should, at least.
To some extent.
But your phone rings again, and you find yourself staring mouth agape at his reply.
You: You may ride his dick, but you had my kid. Clearly, only one of us knows how to please you. 
Your face is burning hot, and you hate how you shift in your seat. Why the fuck would he say that? You want to say it’s inappropriate, but you also opened this door. 
Is he entirely wrong?
Slapping away that wild ass thought, you focus on the real conversation at hand here. It takes a couple of rewrites before you ultimately decide to change the subject. 
You: I’ve never bought any man around her and never will that’s not you, if that’s what you’re asking. 
You’re grateful to see he’s also agreeing to change the subject.
Joe: It is. Thank you.
Rolling your eyes, you send a text back, getting back to being annoyed at his 21 Questions. This is a two-way street, and since he’s opened this door, why not?
You: You know that goes both ways though. I don’t want her around any bitches.
Joe: Seriously? 
Joe: There’s no one for me to bring her around. 
You…..you don’t know how to feel about that, don’t know how to feel about the bit of relief you feel at this message. Why should you feel relieved? Even if there was, that’s his business, and he’s allowed to….do whatever it is that he does.
It reminds you and brings you to your next topic. 
You: What about your wife? We need to figure that out as well. She’s eventually going to need to know about Calista and will probably be around her at some point. I get she’s your wife, but I’m Callie’s mother, I need to be there whenever you wanna introduce Callie. I need to be involved in that process as well.
He doesn’t reply. 
________
Joe doesn’t really get mad. 
Not often at least and definitely not outwardly. 
It’s always been his thing to never let anyone have access to that “button” that triggers his anger, and for the most part, it works well. 
Except for when it comes to you.
You’ve always been able to trigger many things for him, anger being one of them.
He knows he should have spoken to you in person about the situation, or even over the phone. But with the craziness of his schedule and differing time zones, he just decided to message you, and while it didn’t go horribly, it didn’t go great. He knows you’re annoyed with him.
Hence your crudity. 
Joe also refuses to admit that the thought of you fucking this kid pisses him the fuck off, even though you’re not together, even though he has no right to be upset. 
But goddamn that doesn’t make him any less upset or annoyed at the thought of someone else touching you.
“Uce?” Jon asks, standing at the door before inventing himself in Joe’s locker room for this week’s Smackdown. “You ready to talk man?”
At that, Joe looks confused. “Talk about what?”
“Whatever it is that got you all worked up.” The twins have always been very perceptive, even back when they were all kids. Joe might be good at hiding his frustration from others but not them. The difference between Jon and Josh though has always been Josh has the wherewithal to not say anything. 
Jon hasn’t caught on to that just yet. 
“I’m fine,” Joe dismisses, hoping it’s enough to dead the conversation, even though he knows better. 
“Lie detector determined that was a goddamn lie.” Jon can be pushy, but he means well, and truthfully, Joe doesn’t have a strong desire to outright shut down this conversation. A different perspective is always beneficial. 
Usually. 
So, he explains it all, starting with his call with Callie and ending with the text exchange between him and you.
“I see,” Jon nods, clearly absorbing all of this information. Finally, he concludes, “so you’re jealous.”
That’s the first thing to evoke a genuine laugh out of Joe since his exchange with Y/N. “I’m not jealous.”
“And I’m not a twin,” Jon dismisses. “Look, Uce, it’s obvious you still got feelings for ole girl. You ask me, I don’t think you ever got over her—”
“I didn’t ask you.” 
“--Now you sitting up here annoyed cause she fucking Coach Carter nephew instead of doing something about it.” Joe rolls his eyes. “I mean have you even told her about you and J—”
“No,” he interrupts, swiftly. “Not yet, at least.”
Nodding, Jon speaks again after a minute of silence. “All I’m saying is ya’ll got the history, got the connection, got the kid too! Don’t see why you need to be letting Jesus Shuttlesworth steal your girl.”
At that, Joe chuckles. One thing his cousins will always be good for, especially Jon, is comedic relief. Even some sound advice from time to time.
“Thanks.”
Joe is, surprisingly, thankful for the equally surprising advice from his cousin. He’s not entirely sure if he’s really jealous or just overreacting for a reason he hasn’t quite uncovered, but he is starting to lean more on the side of he does still have some level of feelings for Y/N. 
It’s not a complete shock. He had a feeling when he reacted so strongly to just seeing your picture. It was the whole Callie situation and finding out how you kept her from him that made his vision murky. 
But, as his relationship with her strengthens, the clearer he can see. 
The clearer his feelings are becoming. Now. it’s just a matter of figuring out what to do with said feelings.
And find out where you stand as well. 
Joe remains quiet, thinking more and more how this might end up being an eventful trip.
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shotmrmiller · 3 months
Text
tw: mentions of roofies, murder, then smut:)
cbf!simon would absolutely kill for you.
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cbf!simon has always been your partner in crime.
even in your youth, back when he was built like a daffodil, he was always by your side. kept you safe from the mean girls at school, always got in trouble for throwing hands at boys who made crass comments at you and the like. then he'd left his butcher job to join the military. "I gotta learn how to keep you safe, love. i'll always come back to ya."
and he had. he returned to you almost four times his size; he left a boy and came back a man. down to your very bones, you knew that he would always keep you safe.
which is why he was the first person you called when the guy next to you at the bar roofied your drink. the beer fizzed irregularly and had an almost milky colour even though it was an ipa.
the idiot had dared to smile at you, an oily, crooked grin with yellow teeth, and lifted his own glass to toast with you.
you bolted out of your seat in seconds, heading straight to the ladies' room, and dialed.
he answered on the second ring.
"please come get me." you hadn't meant to sound as terrified as you felt.
"be there in 5," then hung up.
he lived 15 minutes away from the dingy bar.
true to his word, he was there in 5, texting where you were at.
inside the ladies bathroom.
he let himself in, put his jacket around your quivering shoulders, and with a strong, comforting arm, guided you toward the exit and into his truck. simon remained silent as he sat you in the passenger seat, gently pulling the seatbelt over your chest, clicking it into place.
he stood next to you, his hands resting on your jean-clad thighs, waiting patiently for you to explain.
your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you sort out your thoughts. you no longer felt afraid, that much was certain. simon has always been your pillar of strength. there was nothing to fear with him at your side.
so why do your hands continue to tremble? digging deeper, you realize that you're angry. no.
furious.
some imbecile thought he'd take advantage of you. if you'd been any more drunk, you would have been a victim— wound up lifeless in a dirty ditch.
you burned with fury, your blood boiling under your skin. how dare he? how dare he?
simon softly touches your tightly clenched hands, coaxing your fingers to unfurl.
everything pulls hard to port when your eyes land on his disfigured knuckles— scarred by battle. you've never liked what simon did for a living. he just fought and killed people that some higher-up told him were the bad guys.
in war, there is no good or bad side. the field is too soaked in blood for anyone to recognize where the line is if there even was one to begin with.
until now. just this once, you couldn't be more grateful that simon possesses the skills he does.
you make your decision. "there was a guy in there. green hat, ugly brown jacket with yellow, crooked teeth. he drugged my beer, then toasted me so i would drink it."
his hands tighten around yours marginally. "and now i'm here, safe, with you. but he's still in there, with potentially a pocket full of pills, on the lookout for his next victim. how am i supposed to sleep tonight, knowing that if someone goes missing tonight, the blood will be on my hands?"
you cut your eyes to his dark, hardened ones, and the words tumble out of your mouth with surprising ease.
"there's trash in there that needs throwing out, simon."
nothing but a wretched mongrel that needs to be put down.
simon's nod is subtle, but it's there. you exhale a shuddering breath, heart slamming against your ribcage.
he's a gun in your hand, and you've just pulled the trigger.
simon hands you the keys to the truck. "are you sober enough to drive home?" he quietly asks.
hard to keep a buzz when you almost became a victim of—
"yes."
he's opening the glove compartment, taking out his skeleton gloves, and a tac knife that he tucks inside the waistband of his jeans.
"go home. i'll see ya in a bit." his voice is flat, lifeless.
simon closes the door and raps his knuckles on the hood of the truck before heading inside.
and so the elephant marches to war.
-
it's well past midnight when he crawls in through your window. one moment his boots are on the windowsill, the next he's pinning you onto your mattress, hips flush against yours.
his chilly, clean hands lift the hem of your loose shirt, dimpling the soft skin that his fingers dig into— his bare lips grazing the shell of your ear.
"he is no longer a problem."
he grinds his clothed erection against the flimsy fabric of your sleeping shorts.
"you did the right thing by telling me what he did."
simon trails a path of open-mouthed kisses from your ear down to your mouth, licking your bottom lip.
"nothing gets me harder than when my girl looks at me to keep her safe."
your breath hitches when a hand begins to move south, lifting the waistband of your bottoms and sliding his fingers over your slick pussy. "it seems you like it too. does it turn you on, ordering me around like a dog? i bark at your command, pet."
one finger sinks into your wet heat, his groan drowning out your own.
"you like having this much power over me? how easily i bend to your will?" he croons.
there are two fingers in you now, so much thicker than your own, and the way they curl and drag along your nerves has your toes tingling. he takes you to the precipice at frightening speed— the expert hands that kill without remorse are the same ones that are bringing you your pleasure.
he thrusts his fingers into you with an obscene squelch and a thumb circles your slippery clit.
"i'd burn the world to ashes if you asked it of me."
the coil in your stomach is tight, your body tense in anticipation.
"so... would you? would you ask me to bring the world to its very knees?"
the answer sits on the tip of your tongue when you climax around his fingers, walls pulsing rhythmically, arousal dripping from his knuckles.
later will be a good time to reflect on how you don't feel even remotely guilty for what's been done.
for now, you focus on how good simon feels as he slowly sinks into you, splitting you wide open with his heavy cock.
-
simon finds no pills in the guy's pockets. no baggie, no bottle.
nothing.
shame that his little love has declared the guy's life forfeit.
your wish is his command.
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leviathanspain · 6 months
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Hello!! Would you be able to write a request for finnick? Just like he’s the capitols darling, reader is the capitals hound dog. Known to be fiercely protective and exceptionally violent and brutal. During the third quarter quell, katniss’ group is afraid of reader because they haven’t seen her all match, but they run into her and she defends them brutally against something? Sorry I know it’s specific:) love your writing!
my body is a cage
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finnick odair x reader
synopsis: his focus was protecting katniss, but he sleeps with an eye open as long as you’re still out there..
a/n: i made some changes, jus go with it lmao
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“she’s still out there, katniss.” finnick had made this pointedly to katniss, who wanted to go out hunting for the remaining victors with johanna. you were shrouded in mystery, out of all the victors, finnick knew the least about you.
“where would she be?” peeta looked at finnick, who sighed, shrugging, “the arena is different than the arena she won in, i assume somewhere low to the ground-“ finnick sweeped the beach, eye catching on a rustle in the bush, straight across from them, “and close.” he remembered now how you had won your games.
you had tracked all the tributes like prey, manipulating their surroundings to kill them, it had been one of the most invigorating games for the capitol ever. “she’s a bloodhound, probably sniffed us out before we realized.”
johanna watched the area that finnick had saw you, but still offered her commentary, “she’s brutal, katniss.”
katniss looked at them all, surrounded by skilled people yet found herself doubting their abilities, especially her own. none of them were sure they’d win, not against her.
“the careers are the least of our worries with her out there.” peeta noted. finnick looked at him and shrugged, “she might just kill them herself.”
they knew getting back on the island was a bad idea. katniss ducked at the sound of a mysterious voice, feeling as something flew past her head, stabbing cashmere right in the chest.
“get up.” katniss looked up to see you, standing over her. you had an array of weapons on you, and you were reaching for another one. katniss felt the panic in her throat until you launched it at enobaria, who had thrown herself at katniss. “get up!” your voice sounded more frantic and katniss did, struggling from keeping her eyes off of you.
suddenly the island began to spin.
your grip was loosening, and you groaned with slight fear as you felt the cold water thundering against your feet. katniss reached out for you, “grab my hand!” she screamed, but the water trashing drowned her out.
you could see her hand amidst all the water and grabbed it tightly, closing your eyes as the island slowed to a stop.
you sat on the beach, alone as the others argued over you. katniss had defended you, deciding she wanted you as an ally. but finnick and johanna deemed it too risky, “she could kill us all in our sleep, then what?” johanna had made that point as one of your methods, and you inhaled sharply.
finnick glanced at you, noticing the solemn expression on your face. he had known that expression far too many times, and it made him change his mind.
“johanna.” finnick called her name and sighed, “she saved her life. that’s not something we can just ignore, we don’t even know her.”
there was silence between them all, katniss had looked to johanna, watching as she fought internally before giving in. “i’ll go get her, maybe threaten a little.” she stood up, taking her axe with her.
finnick looked to katniss as johanna left, “i’ll keep an eye on her. for you.” he knew that once katniss settled on allies, she settled. her choices weren’t always the best, but somehow it would work itself out.
“why did you save her?” finnick had taken the first watch with you. johanna had convinced him, as just having you as watch would be ‘asking for it’.
you shrugged, “why not.” there hadn’t been much decision making on the island. it was either her or cashmere, and you didn’t see much of a choice.
finnick looked at you, “i don’t believe that.” his eyes slid themselves back to stare at the beach and you scoffed, “and why is that?”
finnick shrugged, “no one would just randomly save someone without an ulterior motive.” he said it like a fact and you smirked, “do you have one?”
“have one what?” he looked confused, obvious by the furrow in his brow.
“do you have an ulterior motive?” you repeated the full length question and watched as finnick practically whipped his head around.
“no.” he stated plainly, and you rolled your eyes, “i saw you saved katniss, similiar to how i did. you and johanna can’t just be doing this,” you glanced back to katniss and peeta sleeping, “for nothing. whatever it is, finnick, is an ulterior motive.” finnick pursed his lips, almost as if he couldn’t believe it.
“i’ll let you have yours if you let me have mine.” you finished, catching his gaze. finnick knew there were layers to you. you were different than most victors, your brutality is what made you like the rest of them, the willingness to kill. but you were turning out to be way more than what meets the eye. whatever your motive was, finnick sensed it wasn’t malice.
finnick settled to watch the sun rise upon your face, ending the conversation with a nod.
finnick watched as you sat by the beach. it had been post jabberjays, you, him and katniss had all been trapped with the birds, fluttering and screaming your names. now it seemed, like you had decided to decompress by the beach, just as he was going to.
he piled up next to you, close but far enough to give you a good amount of space.
it was then that finnick realized you had been crying, tears evident on your cheeks. he had heard katniss yell her sister’s name, and he had heard annie. you had just screamed in response, as if you were trying to drown out the birds with your own voice.
“i’m sorry.” you apologized to finnick, wiping your eyes as he settled down. you sniffled, watching as the waves moved.
“don’t apologize, there’s no need.” finnick spoke, “who did you hear?”
there was silence for a moment, until you spoke, “my best friend.” your mind shuddered back the sound of his screams and you laughed, painfully. “he’s been dead for years. i killed him.” you admitted, “he died because of a mistake i had made during the games.”
your mind flashed back to the games, where you had accidentally launched a knife to his chest, thinking it had been another tribute.
“he had spent all of his games searching for me. and once he found me, i had killed him.” it was cruel for him to be your district partner, for only one would survive, but you “never thought it would be me.” you glanced at finnick, who had been listening.
“it was supposed to be him.” you cried, “i killed everyone else to get to him, and when it was down to four, was when he came to get me.” you shook your head, “there is nothing in this world that i loved more than him, finnick. now that he’s gone, there’s nothing left for me.”
finnick shook his head, “stop. you know that’s not true.” he tried to comfort you, your words mirroring his own thoughts.
“that’s my motive, finnick.” you revealed, “my body is a cage, and i can’t stand to live in it much longer.”
johanna had woken up abruptly. she clutched onto her weapon, eyes glancing around before she settled on the two figures on the beach. she squinted and made out finnick’s hair, and you. the only two missing from the group. you had your head leaned on finnick’s shoulder, as the two of you watched the rising sun.
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sensitivegoblin · 2 years
Text
Starting to think life is just a series of events that I fuck up
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teatreeoilll · 5 months
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w/c: 750 Part I - A drabble - headcanon thingy of our favorite king of red flags curses, set in a Heian-era village. i dunno anymore. | Part 2 here
Childhood!FriendSukuna who first met you as he stood at the brink of death.
"Mom, hey, mom." You tugged at her sleeve, directing her gaze at a frail boy, about seven or eight, on the verge of collapse behind the village market stall, "Can I give him an apple?" It's a bad month, she thought, glancing at the contents of her basket; this kindness might cost an empty stomach later on.
"No dear, he'll be fine." But you already ran off with an apple, your tiny legs making their way to the sickly boy.
"Here," you held the apple in front of his face, to which he narrowed his eyes, extending a scrawny arm to smack it away.
"I don't need your trash." He barked, his voice harsh as he gathered saliva in his mouth, spitting at your feet, “Peasant.”
As soon as your mother dragged you away, he picked up the apple, eating it whole.
ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who didn’t mind the insults the villagers threw at him while he was knee-deep in mud, plowing the fields for a cup of stale rice in the evenings.
"That brat is cursed," the whispers would grow amidst the village's council meetings, "If we stop feeding him, he'll leave."
ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna, whose malnourished limbs betrayed him as he fell face first on the rice terrace with the hot sun still ablaze on his back.
ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who woke up almost a day later under an unknown ceiling, fever gnawing at his head under a wet cloth.
"Mom! Mom!" You shrieked from the corner of the room, "He's awake!" and a woman came in with a warm cup of tea, the taste of which lingered on his tongue as he drifted back to sleep.
"Let me die, brat." His hoarse voice was still weak when he came back to his senses as you placed a fresh, dampened cloth over his forehead.
"My name's not 'brat,'" you informed with a scoff, "It's (Name); what's yours?"
Too ashamed to admit he didn’t know the answer, he turned away and closed his eyes.
ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna, whose mouth hung agape when you pressed a chaste kiss on his forehead one night while muttering, 'mother told me that a kiss can heal any sickness'.
ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna, who disappeared as soon as he found the strength to walk again, returning to the fields only to find that the farmer's wife would no longer spare him dried-out rice when he finished a day's work.
"They should have let him die," he heard the farmer's wife proclaim through the thin walls of the cabin, "That self-righteous linen maker and her irritating daughter. That brat probably cursed them, too."
ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who killed the farmer and his wife, unleashing a torrent of power he never knew resided within him; some kind of strange magic, he thought, wondering if the whispers of curses were more than the village gossip. The air hung heavy with the metallic tang of blood, and for the first time, he could breathe.
ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who disappeared after the crime, only to emerge a decade later, leaving a trail of chaos in his wake as he razed and burned each village in his path - laughing as he watched the terror-stricken villagers bow at his feet, crying and begging and dubbing him devil.
ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who spared you as the village you once called home turned to ashes around you.
"I owe no debt to you now." He announced.
Tears pooled in your eyes, and a scream escaped your lips as you broke down on your knees before him, "I should have listened," you wailed, fingers clawing at the dry dirt beneath you, "They said you were cursed," you hurled a mass of dirt at him, hitting his chest, "They said the devil came to the village the day you were born."
ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who passed through the village again the next day, just to see you lying between the rubble, limbs sprawled on the dirt and ashes.
"I've extended you kindness." He said, covering the sun with his frame as he loomed over you, "Leave."
And you laughed, shaking and howling until the sides of your body started stinging, and the words came out as mere gasps; "And go where?"
"Wherever you wish."
"Home," You declared, locking eyes with his confused expression, "I want to go home."
You weren’t sure what sick thoughts ran through his mind when he leaned down to press a chaste kiss on your forehead, so you smiled, his face still a mere inch away from yours; "It's my fault." you confessed, "So, the next time we meet, I'll fix it, okay?" A deadpan expression took over as you added, "I'll kill you myself."
-
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luveline · 7 months
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I'm in an angsty mood.. and I love love love Spencer x bombshell!reader.
maybe she gets hurt somehow (maybe like an unsub or something) but refuses to get checked out
ty for requesting!! sry this isn't super angsty 
cw criminal minds typical gun violence
Blood is a strange thing. It can run quickly or slow, feel tepid or burning hot. It's warm and uncomfortable as it slinks down the curve of your shoulder to the very tip of your index finger, dark as coal pitch in the poor lightning. 
The gunfight is promptly ended, so quickly that no one even knows you've been hit. Morgan throws himself at one unsub and the other is shot in the thigh. Your ears ring, a gun firing too close to your head, clearly. 
In all the hubbub, nobody notices you're hurt. 
You'd like to keep it that way. 
It's not that you believe you're infallible, nor that the others believe it either, but in the grand scheme of things it is a very small cut that you can attend to in your hotel room alone with a butterfly stitch or even a roll of bandages. There's no way it requires real stitches, and no way you're gonna sit in the back of an ambulance for the next hour. 
Your jacket is black. The wound clots itself while you're in the SUV —you choose a window where your arm faces away from everyone and you manage it. And truthfully… you would like the others to think you're smarter than getting hit by a stray bullet. After everything that's happened lately, you've reason to build yourself up. Let the others hold you in some prestige again. 
It works for a time. You get back to the hotel, and everyone says goodnight. Your room is clean and waiting for your return. 
You'd collapse into bed if it didn't mean you'd leave a bloody line on the linens. You shed your ruined jacket and throw it in the trash. Your shirt is split where the bullet nicked you, and that comes off next. The wound begins bleeding sluggishly at the agitation but doesn't erupt, and stays strong as you wipe the skin clean around it. Your fingers mar with copper stain, the face cloth you've sacrificed turning an ugly brown, but eventually you've cleaned the skin enough to see the damage. 
It's deep but small. A nick. 
The issue is your lack of bandages. It's a hotel room, a small one. There's no first aid kit and your go bag is sorely lacking. Which means… 
You have to go bat your eyelids at someone, and if you're being honest, you only ever want to do that to one Dr. Spencer Reid. 
He's not expecting you, clearly. You weren't expecting it either. "Hey," he says, rubbing his eyes, his pyjama pants flush to the floor. 
"You were sleeping? I'm sorry." 
"Don't be sorry, are you kidding me?" He opens the door wider to encourage you in, turning away from you as he murmurs, "S'like my dream." 
He must be very tired. You beam like a fool and follow him inside. "I had a dream like this once, too. Same kind of dream, do you think?" 
"Knowing you, probably." He's growing more comfortable with you, but he's still clearly a little flustered to be this suddenly presented with you, wrapping himself up in a cardigan hanging over the single sad chair. "What's up?" 
"I'm glad you asked." You take your uninjured arm out of your coat, and then the other. You know what you're doing, laughing softly as his eyes turn to dark dimes in an otherwise pale face. "I need your help with something, Spence." 
"Uh–" He stammers, looking you up and down with shock. "Um, I–" He licks his lips quickly. "Okay." 
You kind of hate that you aren't there to seduce him for a split second. Too bad your arm has started to throb. "I need a bandaid," you say, turning your arm into his line of sight. "Help me out?" 
"I know something you don't know," Morgan sing-songs. Emily sips her coffee, mildly interested by her friend's taunting. She doesn't give him any feeding, waiting, and sure enough he cracks. "What, you don't want to know?" 
"You want to tell me, right?" 
"Mm, no. I'll tell Penelope." 
"Fine! Alright, what is it?" She breaks, putting her coffee down on the little table in front of her. They're sitting in the hotel lobby waiting for Hotch and the others to collect their things. The jet awaits, as do a few hours in the air before she gets to sleep in her own bed again. 
"I saw–" Morgan laughs. "This is too good. I saw a certain bombshell visiting Reid last night. After hours."
Emily's heart kicks in. "No way!" she gasps. "I mean, I know there's something between them, we all know that, but– his room, seriously?" 
"He didn't even question her. She knocked, he answered, she went inside." 
"What were you doing up?" 
"That's my business," Morgan says. 
Emily leans forward to gossip. This is insane. Sure, you flirt with Spencer relentlessly, and sure, he blushes like he loves it the majority of the time, he even manages to get you back, but you're sleeping together? "This is so scandalous," she whispers. 
Her job is hard, but God does Emily love her team. She's genuinely happy for you both, but seriously! She giggles to herself at the drama of it all, and Morgan looks like he might say more, but then he looks behind her and stops. 
Emily turns. You and Spencer are walking out of the elevator together, and while you aren't looking more coupled than usual, Spencer's acting unusually. "You're sure you're okay?" he asks, hushed but carrying in the relatively quiet lobby. 
"I promise I'm okay, Spence." Your voice drops. "It's our secret, okay?" 
"Sure, but–" He takes your hand, there, where everyone can see, the love in the line of his shoulders clear to anyone who might be watching, which Emily and Morgan very much are. "Can I look at it again?" 
Morgan laughs into his hand, hiding it with a cough too late. Emily kicks his leg and he looks admonished, but it doesn't convince you where you look up from your conversation, the same surprise written in your features as Emily herself feels while Spencer continues, "You need to let me take care of you," he says, practically pleading. 
"Spencer," you say, looking Emily straight in the eye, "you took care of me just fine last night." 
She gawps. 
Spencer whispers in response to your lowered tone, making his answer partially inaudible, "It was my first…" He shakes his head. "I've never…  and I know you said it didn't hurt that much but… go see a doctor–" 
You stop him with an affectionate smile. "You could never hurt me, handsome. Do I look like I'm in pain?" 
"No." Spencer drops your hand. "If you're sure. Let me go get you a drink, okay? Go sit down." 
"Yes sir." 
Nothing about you says anything different to usual as you sit on the lobby chair next to Morgan's, beside your worn hoodie. You fiddle with a fraying sleeve as you kick one leg over the other, giving your friends a pleased smile. "Morning," you say lightly. 
Emily genuinely doesn't know what to say. Her mouth hangs slightly ajar. "I…" 
"You're shameless," Morgan says with a laugh. 
"Look," you say, shrugging though the action makes you wince, "I could tell you the truth and you wouldn't believe me." 
"Sure we wouldn't. Reid looks like a lost puppy right now." 
Spencer stands anxiously by the coffee machine across the way, his gaze locked solidly on you where you sit. You throw him a smile and he looks away. 
"I don't deserve him," you say softly. 
Spencer carries your bag for you all the way to the BAU. Emily doesn't think it's a question of deserving, though you do, only an example of Spencer's big heart. And, you know, post hookup appreciation, or something. 
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natalievoncatte · 3 months
Text
Lena didn’t have time for traffic. She looked up from her phone and glared at the back of her driver’s head.
“Frank, why is it taking so long?”
“I’m not Frank, Ma’am. He called out this morning.”
Lena sighed. “And your name?”
“Vincent, ma’am.”
“Vincent, why is this taking so long?”
He signed. “Traffic, ma’am. Sounds like there’s a few blocks downtown closed. Supergirl is fighting some monster or alien or something.”
Lena stopped herself from smiling softly. “Ah, well then. Anyway, might as well see if you can find us a way around. I just don’t like to stand still.”
The driver nodded.
“What do you think about Supergirl, ma’am?”
Lena sighed. “Forgive me, Vincent, but I do have some work to concentrate on, here. I’m not usually one for chitchat. I hope you don’t mind.”
She sank back into her seat and flicked to the next email. There were a lot of fires to put out. Upcoming product launches, grant applications, university partnerships, charity events, plus her own work. She was becoming so strained lately that she was seriously considering stepping down from the direct CEO role so she could spend more time in the lab, where her real passion was.
Sometimes she almost sympathized with Lex; the life of a CEO could easily drive someone insane. Lena would rather spend her days in a labcoat or doing charity work than listening to another entitled silver spoon-
“You’re going the wrong way,” Lena said, sharply.
“I’m finding a way around,” said the driver. “You know, you never answered my question, before. What do you think of Supergirl?”
Lena stuffed her phone in her pocket and thrust her hand in her jacket, freeing the concealed revolver she carried in a shoulder holster under her left arm. The partition was already going up, sealing her in.
“What are you doing?”
“Answer my question,” the driver said, through a speaker.
Lena swallowed hard. “I think she’s a hero but I don’t fully trust her. I work with her when I feel it will help people. That’s all.”
“That’s not what your mother thinks.”
“Isn’t it?” said Lena. “What does she think?”
“Are you fucking her?”
Lena barked out a laugh. “Are you serious? That’s her question?”
“Are you fucking her like you debased yourself with that little tart in boarding school?”
There was silent beat.
“She told me to say that. She made me practice saying ‘tart’.”
He sounded almost bored.
“Fuck you,” Lena snapped. “Whatever you’re going to do, do it.”
“Nothing personal,” said the driver.
Lena sighed, almost annoyed at the hiss as a thin, chemical smelling gas hissed into the car, rising around her. She forced herself to stay calm, stoic, even her pulse raced.
“I’m not afraid of you, or her,” said Lena.
She coughed twice as the world irises shut around her, dragging her down into a cold, dreamless sleep.
When she snapped awake, she was alone. The partition was open, but the gun was gone from her holster. She felt around for it, then decided to clamber into the front seat, rolling over the seats facing her. The driver was gone, of course. Heavy chains were padlocked around the car, pinning the front doors shut.
There was a tape recorder sitting on the front seat. Lena ignored it as she looked around. The car was surrounded by metal walls, and a creep sense of dread rose up Lena’s spine. She fought the panic down, dropping into the driver’s seat.
Placing the tape deck on the dash, she pushed the okay button.
“Hello, Lena,” Lilian said, in her smooth, posh tones. Lena could hear that smarmy smirk forming around her words.
“You’re probably expecting an ultimatum or an offer. There will be none. I’m through trying to bring my husband’s wayward bastard back into the fold. When you betrayed Lex again, you burned your last chance. It’s time to take out the trash, Lena. I wish I could have throttled you in the cradle, but I didn’t know about you and your mother until it was too late. It’s time to correct that. It’s too bad we won’t be there to watch.”
Watch what?
Lena sat and waited. Whoever was sent to murder her had no sense of dramatic timing. She began rifling through the car, trying to take stock of what she had, what she could use to effect an escape. Breaking the-
A sharp shriek of metal cut through her thoughts. The side walls inched forward with a screech of metal, and Lena froze, terror piercing through her like an icy spike.
Oh.
Oh God.
The walls moved slightly more, and the rear view mirrors on both sides of the car exploded. The mechanism pushing the walls strained and groaned, and that was the only mercy she had.
She was in a car crusher. In the car.
The armored structure of her town car was too heavy for the machine to simply crush, but she had minutes at most. Metal groaned in protest, shrieking around her, and the glass quivered in the doors.
Oh God. Oh God.
She wasn’t going to panic. She wasn’t going to panic. She ripped open every single compartment and cubby she could find, but found only monogrammed glassware and a bottle of champagne. There was nothing.
A random, forgotten Lexosuit would be really useful right about now.
With a sudden shriek, the car began to collapse. The bulletproof glass buckled and shattered, pelting the front seat as she rolled into the back, and the doors buckled in, tearing loose from their hinges as the floor and roof began to fold.
A sudden, ringing, frankly stupid thought came into her head, but it was her best play.
Lena Luthor filled her lungs. She took in the biggest, deepest breath of her life, a breath worthy of a championship deep diver, and screamed at the top of her lungs, until it hurt.
“SUPERGIRL!”
She had to scramble into the back seat as the engine began pushing through the dashboard, ripping apart plastic and leather, splintering buried wood. Lena ducked as the roof crumpled and dove in, like the roof of a dragon’s mouth crushing down to pulp her. She closed her eyes and curled in on herself, hoping it would at least be over fast.
A single ringing thought bit through the fear.
Oh God. Kara’s waiting for me at the restaurant.
Around her metal shrieked, and she heard the vast clang of rending machinery. The inexorable crushing stopped, the bucking limousine going still. Lena opened her eyes, peering through her fingers like a terrified child, and watched in awe as one of the crushed plates tore loose from its moorings and went flying off into the afternoon air.
Hands, strangely delicate, punched through armor plating as if it were cobwebs and ripped the broken shell of Lena’s limo apart, spreading it in every direction.
Lena had never seen Supergirl so panicked. Her eyes were too wide with abject terror, and she seized Lena in her arms, winding her cape around her, and rocketed loose from the car.
Lena’s words were lost to the wind. Supergirl was blasting into the air, flying incredibly fast- too fast. Helpless, she clung to the hero for dear life, feeling woozy as the blood drained from her skull.
She thought, oh, come on, as she passed out again.
When her eyes drifted open, Lena was lying on the ground. Groaning, she sat up slowly, feeling every movement, and realized she’d been lying on a spread red blanket with her suit jacket piled up under her head for a pillow, and she was in the woods. The sun had yielded to the sky, and someone had started a roaring fire a few feet away.
Grateful for the warmth, Lena edged closer. As she did, she realized that she was sitting not on a blanket but on Supergirl’s cape.
Blinking, she looked around.
Supergirl had her back to a tree, curled up on herself with her head hanging between her knees, arms wrapped around to cover her face, and she was sobbing quietly. Lena stared, open-mouthed.
“Supergirl?” she breathed.
Supergirl didn’t respond. Lena rose to her feet, wobbling, and discarded her heels before walking across a bed of soft leaves. She crouched in front of the weeping Kryptonian, stunned when the other woman flinched.
“Supergirl?”
“Lena?”
Her voice was small and soft, all the bravado and righteous authority gone. She sounded strangely human.
“Are you okay?” she whispered.
“I think I am,” said Lena. “What about you? Are you hurt?”
“No,” she sniffed. “A Tauraxian hit me in the head with a greyhound bus. Tuesday afternoon at the office.”
Lena laughed softly, and sat down. “I’m sure. What just happened?”
Supergirl swallowed hard as she looked up. “I panicked. I saw what was happening and I lost control. I’m lucky I didn’t hurt you.”
Lena put a tentative hand in on her shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“More than you realize,” Supergirl sighed.
“I’m here,” said Lena.
She sat down. Supergirl looked away from her, staring I to the fire a few feet away. In starlight, with the firelight caressing her delicate features and sparkling in her blue eyes, it was impossible to miss how hauntingly beautiful she was… and how haunted herself. Supergirl looked older than her years, a deep sorrow in her eyes that Lena had never seen before.
“I’m claustrophobic,” Supergirl explained. “Not the kind of thing that you advertise.”
“We all have our fears. I have some of my own.”
Lena pushed down thoughts of a pale hand sliding beneath churning black water and shuddered.
With teary eyes, Supergirl looked at her.
“I can’t. I can’t have fears. I’m Supergirl. I have to be perfect, set an example, all that crap. I’m the perfect woman who came from the sky to do only good.”
The perfect woman, Lena thought, consuming the firelit beauty before her. No one would debate that.
Well, Lena would, maybe. There was someone more perfect, someone soft and kind with a devastating smile and laughing eyes tinged with strange sorrow. She hoped Kara wasn’t worrying about her.
It was funny how Lena always thought of Kara when Supergirl was around. Guilt, maybe. Foolish guilt; Kara was a far shore that Lena would never reach, even if she’d gladly sink in the attempt.
“Before I came to Earth, I drifted in the phantom zone in my pod. There were things outside. The pod was the size of a coffin, a tiny space to spend all that time. The phantoms would claw and slash at the canopy and the walls. I was awake for days hearing them trying to get in. Sometimes there were bigger things out there, wrapping arms around it and trying to crush their way in.”
Lena nodded. “That sounds beyond terrible. It’s okay for you to be scared after that.”
Supergirl nodded. “I can barely handle elevators sometimes.”
A jolt went through Lena, something familiar, like a word on the tip of her brain.
“I get scared when other people are enclosed, too,” said Supergirl. “When I saw something trying to crush you, I just lost it. It’s different when it’s you.”
Lena swallowed hard, trying to suppress the shiver that coursed through her body and made the small hairs on her arms stand on end.
“Back in high school, the other girls used to bully me,” said Supergirl. Once, they locked me in a closet in the locker room. I screamed and screamed until until someone let me out. Alex was furious, she…”
Supergirl went quiet, trailing off. Her eyes went wide and she jolted back.
Lena sat there for a second, unsure why…
Wait.
Alex?
High school? Supergirl went to high school?
With Alex? Alex Danvers?
Lena choked down a gasp, the wheels whirling in her head. She looked over and met Supergirl’s eyes, studying them. Her. The way the light played across her soft features, her honey hair, the little scar above her eye.
“Hi, Lena.”
“Hi, Kara,” Lena whispered.
Neither of them moved. Lena wondered briefly if Kara had ever planned to tell her, how she might have planned it. Probably not like this. Her throat bobbed.
Lena shifted closer, until they were hip to hip in a seated hug, Kara crying softly on Lena’s shoulder, powerful arms wrapped around her.
“I was scared,” said Lena. “I was afraid I was going to die and you’d be sitting at the table at the restaurant waiting for me.”
“Never,” said Kara. “I’ll always protect you.”
“And I’ll always protect you. Nobody is ever going to shove my Kara in a closet ever again.”
Kara let out a little gasp.
“Can we stay here for a while? Talk? Just you and me?”
Kara nodded. She stood and gathered up her cape as Lena moved close to the fire, and sat down, wrapping it around them both. Lena let her head fall on Kara’s shoulder.
“This makes a nice blanket.”
“It is a blanket. My cousin was swaddled in it when he came to Earth. Don’t worry, I washed it.”
Lena laughed softly, awkwardly trying to decide where to put her hands. She settled on being bold, and put her arm around Kara’s waist. Kara slipped her arms around her shoulder and pulled her in, and Lena hugged her back, tucking herself into Kara’s shoulder.
They sat for a while as the fire burned down low. It was full dark and the fire was nothing but coals.
“I was going to tell you. I wanted to.”
“I’m not mad.”
“Okay,” Kara sighed.
Lena swallowed hard, trying not to feel her blood rushing in her ears.
“You know,” she said. “You could kiss me right now, if you wanted. That seems like the kind of thing the hero does after saving the girl.”
“I could?” said Kara.
“You could.”
“Like this?”
Kara was trying to be smooth, and it made it hard for Lena not to giggle. She tipped Lena’s chin up with soft fingers and guided herself in, bringing their lips together. Kara kissed her softly, tentatively. Lena kissed her back just as softly, afraid this moment would shatter if she pressed too hard.
It was easy to shift herself into Kara’s lap, even before Kara lifted her there. Lena knew she was strong but not Kryptonian strong, and it it sent a thrill through her. She liked it.
She liked touching Kara, too. Liked feeling the bunching muscles flex under under hands, the softness of her hair, the way she gasped when she felt Lena’s lips on her throat.
“Never have I wished so badly for a tent and sleeping bags,” said Lena.
“And marshmallows to toast!” said Kara.
“Do you ever stop thinking about food?” Lena giggled.
Kara looked at her intently, and Lena shivered, not from the cold. She’d longed for Kara to see her like that, look at her like that.
“Sometimes,” Kara whispered. “Sometimes I think about other things.”
“We should probably go back,” said Lena. “We have people who are probably looking for us.”
Kara nodded.
“Do you want this to be… do you want us to be?”
“Kara,” said Lena, “I would have asked you out a year ago if I thought I had a chance. I thought you just wanted to be friends.”
Kara swallowed. “Are you saying you want to be my girlfriend?”
Lena smiled softly. “Yes.”
Kara rose and clasped her cape to her shoulders, then gently brought Lena to her feet and lifted her from the ground, holding her close.
“Not so fast this time, okay?”
“Okay,” said Kara, lifting them back into the sky.
926 notes · View notes
moonmunson · 8 months
Text
electric touch - eddie munson x reader
summary: eddie hasn't had much luck with dates - not until you.
warnings: ppl being mean to eddie (only for a little bit!) and some discussion on eddie's penchant for kinda being used by the popular girls but there's so much fluff and some kissing at the end
word count: 2.8k
a/n: i started this when speak now tv came out and then completely abandoned it but she's my little brain child
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When Eddie was in eighth grade, he spent a week rehearsing the best way to ask a girl out on a date. He practiced in the mirror every day, making sure to sound hopeful, but not desperate, eager, but not pushy. He’d almost given up and asked his Uncle for advice, but in case it didn’t go the way he wanted it to, he didn’t want Wayne to be waiting for an update. 
There was a new horror movie premiering in the theater downtown, and he’d heard that scary movies were the best to bring a girl to - because if she got scared, Eddie could put his arm around her and protect her from the fictional monsters. 
He never even got the chance to ask her. He’d tried, to be sure. Monday morning of the next week, when he’d worked up enough nerve, he walked up to the group of cheerleaders she was a part of, and didn’t even open his mouth before the group of girls ganged up on him - asking him what he wanted, calling him a freak, telling him to get away from them. Later, the girl he’d been pining after approached him - sans clique - and apologized on behalf of her friends. She didn’t feel the same as them, but she couldn’t ruin her “reputation.” They saw each other in secret for half a year before she got a boyfriend on the basketball team. Typical. It hurt Eddie more than he was comfortable admitting. 
Eddie doesn’t love referring to himself as a cynic, but the repetitive cycle of being used by popular girls for a night of fun - fulfilling their dream of sleeping with the town’s resident bad boy before never speaking to him again, exhausted Eddie to the point of declaring that true love was a capitalistic ruse created to sell laboratory made diamonds. It would never work out for him, and he convinced himself that he was okay with that. 
For the remainder of high school, Eddie continued to play the part. Rich kids invited him to ragers and tried to weasel their way out of paying full price for his weed, even though they were buying with daddy’s money, not their own. He hooked up with random popular girl after random popular girl, always leaving immediately and feeling like shit after. But at least he was getting laid, right?
✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩
Now, Eddie is sitting on the couch in his living room, meticulously arranging and rearranging Wayne’s automobile magazines that live untouched on the coffee table. Has there always been this much dust on them? He wasn’t sure, and the thought only offered a momentary distraction before the nerves swept him back into the electric current of anxiety running through his body.  
He’d already spent most of the past hour making sure there was no visible trash laying out in the open for you to see. He’d even gone so far as to make his room slightly presentable in case you wanted to go in. He wasn’t expecting anything - quite the opposite, actually. He was sure that you’d see the place he lives, turn around and walk out without giving him a chance, and never speak to him again. 
Logically, he knows that this won’t be the case. He knows that Dustin wouldn’t lie to him about your reciprocated interest. He’d spent the entire drive back to Eddie’s trailer for their Hellfire meeting trying to convince him that he saw how giddy his sister had been when she opened the door and saw him standing there. She’d known Eddie was coming to pick her younger brother up, and she’d put on mascara to greet him - as if Eddie truly knows enough about girls to take that as a surefire sign that you were excited to see him. Dustin hears you talking over the phone to your friends about him all the time, and he only shares with Eddie that what you say is positive - not wanting to disclose the nitty gritty. It’s not your fault that the walls of your adjoined rooms are thin, and your friends are loud. 
Still, Eddie is nervous. When he gave you his phone number under the assumption that you might want to call to check up on Dustin, he was shocked that you called days after the Hellfire meeting had ended, and Dustin had returned home. So shocked, in fact, that he wasn’t even the one who had answered the phone - Wayne was. When he’d heard the sweet lilt of your voice on the other side of the line, he’d practically shoved his uncle to grab hold of the phone. You sounded unsure saying hello to him - nervous and breathy and a little bit quiet, but not unenthusiastic - and Eddie knew that Dustin had been telling the truth. 
Eddie spoke to you for an hour that night before he worked up the nerve to ask if you might want to come over to watch a movie. “No funny business, just the sweet sight of David Bowie in tights that no other man would ever be able to pull off.” You’d giggled - a sound Eddie was determined to hear again - and asked how he knew that Labyrinth was your favorite movie. The truth was that he’d overheard Dustin complaining about how you chose it every time it was your turn to pick for family movie night, but he brushed off the question and said that he just “Had a feeling.” 
The sudden appearance of headlights beaming through the trailer window brings Eddie out of his reverie long enough to remember to wipe the dust from his hands onto his jeans. The sound of your car door opening and closing, and the crunch that your shoes make on the gravel pulls Eddie like a siren song from the couch to his trailer door, and the creaking of the wooden steps leading up to said door, has him pulling it open faster than he means to. 
You’re a vision of comfort. Of soft things. Of light wash jeans with no rips in them, of cardigans and sweaters and rose perfume. Your fist is raised in the air like you were about to knock, and for a moment, Eddie thinks this whole thing was a mistake. 
“Oh-”
“Sorry, I-”
There’s a beat of silence. The energy between the two of you is almost palpable - eyes wide and palms clammy - before he breaks the connection and moves out of the way for you to come in. He knows he can turn on the charm once you’re settled, but this has been the part he’s been dreading the most.
It doesn’t matter to his friends that he lives in a trailer. It doesn’t matter when there are beer bottles on the coffee table or old socks on the couch, he knows the guys won’t care. But as you step in, and your eyes begin to sweep over the small living room, the reality of his economic status has never felt bigger, or made him feel smaller. 
As he looks at you though, he notices the soft smile on your face. Taking stock of the collection of hats and mugs lining the walls, of the throw blanket laid over the top of the recliner. 
“The uh, the hats and stuff are my Uncle’s.”
“They’re really cool,” his eyes trace your movements as you walk along the edges of the room, arms at your sides, reading the puns and state names embroidered on them. “has he always collected them?”
Eddie makes his way to the couch, and sits - trying to direct his line of sight to the same ones you’re looking at. Trying to put himself in your shoes and guess what you might be thinking, but coming up short. 
“Wayne was a trucker for a few years,” you turn to look at him, to pay attention to what he’s saying. Eddie does a lot of stupid shit to get people to look at him, he knows that. It doesn’t matter that the expressions he receives the most often are sneers or ones of annoyance. Exasperation. But you look genuinely interested in what he has to say, and it throws him for a loop. “And then he got stuck with me, so he doesn’t really get to buy new ones anymore.”
“Stuck with you?”  
“I mean, yeah, kind of. It’s a long boring story,” Eddie claps his hands together and launches himself up and off of the couch, and you know to stop pushing. “Want the grand tour?” 
“Absolutely,” you nod. 
“Well, my lady,” you watch from your position by the recliner as he struts to the middle of the living room, puts his arms out horizontally at his sides, and bows deeply, “welcome to Castle Munson. The maid did actually remember to show up tonight.” 
“Oh yeah? She did an excellent job,” you huff out a laugh, and Eddie snaps back up to a vertical, a smile on his face that showcases the lines around his mouth. 
✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩
“Eddie? Can I ask you something?”
After giving you a short but enthusiastic tour of the main parts of the trailer and presenting you with the array of snacks he'd gotten for the movie, you both settled on the small couch in the living room. You'd had to resist the urge to curl up into his side, and instead curled up into the arm of the couch.
“Anything, sweets. Go for it.”
“How did you really know this was my favorite movie?”
“I’m psychic,” He taps his index finger to his temple a few times. “I didn’t tell you that?”
“Eddie.”
“Y/n.”
“I’m being serious!”
“So am I!” He matches your raised pitch - teasing, but not condescending - and you almost raise your hand to hit him on the shoulder, but you don’t know if you’ve reached that level of familiarity yet. 
“You don’t have to answer the question if you don’t want to. I’m not weirded out or anything - just curious. Honestly, I’m kind of like, flattered, I guess? I don’t know.” 
Had you overstepped? Eddie’s eyes flit over different things in the room in rapid succession, and he exhales - you can almost see the cogs turning in his head - like he doesn’t know whether to keep joking or offer a moment of true vulnerability. You don’t think the latter comes naturally to him. 
“I heard Dustin complaining to Wheeler that you always pick it for family movie night. It seems like the kind of thing you’d like. Very dreamy and hazy, that kinda thing.” Eddie shrugs and looks off to the side, trying and failing to put on an air of nonchalance, but his tinted cheeks suggest otherwise.
“Is that how you think of me? Dreamy and hazy?” You duck your head to try and meet his gaze, and when he turns to look at you, you think it’s the first time you’ve ever truly seen him. The boyish, innocent version of him that he doesn’t allow to rise to the surface all that often. His charm is still there, and bright as ever, but you can see the uncertainty in the way he struggles to keep his eyes on yours. 
“Maybe. Is that a problem?”
“Not at all.” The smile that graces your features is so easy and genuine that Eddie has no choice but to beam his own right back at you. 
You settle into an easier silence for the remainder of the movie, save for the comments the both of you share. You think it’s especially funny when Eddie compares The Fireys playing volleyball with their own heads to a “Muppet snuff film on acid.” When it’s over, he grabs a few Dr. Peppers from the fridge and asks if you want to smoke with him before you head back home. You decline, because driving while high makes you nervous, but you don’t mind sitting with him for a bit longer. 
“Plus, there’s one more room I haven’t given you the tour for, if you’re interested…”
“I get to see the King’s quarters?”
“More like the dungeon,” he gestures to himself, still clad in his Hellfire shirt, “but yeah, totally.”
“Lead the way then, dungeon master.” 
He looks behind himself to see if you’re following, and extends his hand back so you can hold onto it. It’s not like you’re gonna get lost - the hallway is less than ten feet, but it gives you an excuse to finally touch without overthinking it. Eddie doesn't care to ask whether the jolt of static he feels when your hands meet for the first time is because of your shuffling socks on the carpet or the nervous current running between the two of you. Guessing by the way you suck in a soft breath - one he could barely hear - he doesn’t think you care either. 
✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩
“All I’m saying is Jareth’s a weirdo for wanting a whiny sixteen year old to be his queen.” Eddie is laying on his stomach, legs bent at the knee and ankles crossed in the air. When you’d entered his room, he’d shown you his favorite things before quickly ushering you to get comfortable on the bed. He said that he needed to have an in depth conversation about the movie you’d just watched. 
“The age gap is bad for sure, and she is whiny, I totally get what you’re saying, but-” You’re sitting across from him, elbows resting on your criss-crossed legs. 
“But? Y/n. Are you about to defend him?”  
“Let me finish!” You giggle and Eddie swears that he can feel it in his chest - another spark. 
“I cannot let you finish if you’re about to say what I think you’re gonna say. Morally. Ethically. I cannot let you finish.” In true dramatic Munson fashion, he sweeps his hands in front of him, palm facing out for you to see. He’s almost pouting, lips folded in and corners turned down.  
“What I’m trying to say,” you look pointedly at him to see if he’s going to interrupt again, “is that I think that his proposition isn’t so bad when you really think about it.”
“Well now I have to hear your reasoning behind this.” 
“Think about it. He’s offering her literally anything she could possibly desire, and all she has to do is love him back.” 
“Oh that’s all? I think you’re forgetting the part where he says she has to obey his every whim or whatever the fuck.” Eddie fights the urge to change his tone from teasing to serious - his heart twinging at the idea of making you uncomfortable. 
“You don’t think that love is enough? Or that maybe all love has a level of devotion attached to it?”
“I think my idea of love is too fucked to give you a real answer.” He’s refusing to look at you - gaze directed towards his ringed hands fiddling with the metal tab of the soda can, eyebrows furrowed. 
“I could fix that, if you wanted - make it all dreamy and hazy for you.” 
Eddie can feel the wires in his brain short circuit. In the back of his mind somewhere, he knows that he only has a few seconds to respond before you start to think that maybe you said something wrong, but he can’t seem to reconnect in time. All he manages is an out of breath - 
“Yeah?” 
“If you wanted, yeah,” you nod, like you’ve decided something, and slowly reach to pull his hand from the soda can - taking it with you and setting it down on the crowded bedside table. “I think you deserve it.” 
“Really?” He’s looking at your joined hands, but he doesn’t wrap his fingers around yours. Not yet. 
“Yeah, Eddie. Really.” 
His fingers finally wrap around yours as you pull him from his position on his stomach to lean over you - rising onto his knees and walking on them before planting his arms on either side of your torso. He can feel your breath, soft against his cheeks as he leans in and connects his lips to yours - once, twice, three times. 
That same sparky feeling that Eddie has been getting in his chest all night finally rumbles to life. Like a car being hotwired, he can practically feel your hands pulling wires he thought were long dead and breathing life back into them - rubbing them together until the spark catches and the engine starts. 
“That was-” You pull away slightly to look up at him, lovesick and dopey. 
“Dreamy? Hazy? I think those are two words I would definitely-”
You laugh, already pulling his face back towards yours. 
“Shut up and kiss me again, Munson.”
✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩
a/n: ahh! thank you for reading!! if you enjoyed this story please like and reblog i would appreciate it endlessly !!!
2K notes · View notes
cheriskindaclueless · 4 months
Text
GIRLS ---- ౨ৎ 𝓂𝒶𝓉𝓉 𝓈𝓉𝓊𝓇𝓃𝒾ℴ𝓁ℴ
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---- ౨ৎ matthew sturniolo x fem!reader
✩ cw ---- smut, oral sex (fem! receiving), profanity, finger fucking, getting off from female pleasure??, unprotected sex, (p) in (v) sex, use of 'y/n'
✩ synopsis ---- matt couldn't handle keeping his hands off you anymore, and wants to treat you right
1.4k words.
---- ౨ৎ WALKING down the stairs, leaving the guest room, you rub harshly at your eyes as you turn the light on. adjusting to the newfound brightness at nearly one in the morning. opening the fridge, you narrow your eyes, glancing at the few food options.
closing the door with nothing in hand, you jump slightly. finding matt leaning against the counter, gazing at you.
"jesus," you mumbled, meeting his eyes. "scared the fuck out of me."
he grins at you, "can't sleep?" he asked curiously. his eyes dancing over your body. his face turning a pretty shade of pink when he realizes how little is covered on you. your high waisted shorts paired with a low cut tank top contrast nicely with how you prance around his kitchen.
keeping your eyes on him, you can notice how more and more restless he grows as he stands there. gaze glued to your body. "not really," i shrugged. walking over to the pantry.
as you stepped away from the pantry, you look around, finding that matt had disappeared from the room. frowning to yourself, you pull a granola bar out of a box and unwrap it. eating it before throwing away your trash and curiously going to matt's bedroom.
you were confused as to why he asked you something, and then right when you answered he practically vanished into thin air. walking up to his door, you stop. hesitant as to what you should do.
if he randomly left, surely he had a reason. right?
letting out a soft sigh, you back away from his door and head back to the guest room. closing the door behind you, you frowned.
sitting on the bed, you looked at the tv as it played some brain rotting show on mute. you don't know how long you sit there until there's a knock on your door.
curiously standing up, you pull the door open. revealing matt on the other side, disheveled. his eyes looked droopy, and he mumbled something along the lines of "not able to keep control," in a low, raspy voice. you furrow your brows, confused at what he's going on about; until his lips are smashed against yours.
he mumbles something incoherently as he grabs your jaw, keeping his lips on yours. you quickly fell in the kiss, tugging at his lower lip with your teeth.
matt moans softly against your tongue, and you pull back slightly. "what are you doing-"
you had just now processed that your best friend just barged in and shoved his tongue down your throat. and you were undeniably confused. the kiss had you melting as if you were a cube of ice on a warm day, but you had no idea what the fuck just happened.
"i cant stop myself, baby." he whispered, searching his eyes. "wanna taste you so bad."
his words sent you into a daze, you cupped his cheeks and hungrily pulled him back into a kiss. it felt wrong, but you couldn't tell yourself no. you wanted him too.
"jump," he mumbled against your lips, and you obliged. jumping up and wrapping your legs around his waist. matt's hands gripped tightly on your thighs, stabling you and not breaking away from the kiss.
it felt like heaven and hell on earth as he backed you up to the bed, dropping you down on your back. he pulled away from your lips, and gently trailed kisses down your neck. his eyes glued on yours as he slowly travelled down your body.
hurriedly, you pull your tank top up over your head. you were already seeing stars as matt delicately marked up your body.
matt pressed a sloppy kiss against your chest, right above your breast. he never once took his eyes off you as he slid his hands down to grip your hips.
his lips ghosted over your skin and he made his way closer to your cunt. gently kissing above the hemline of your shorts.
you whined softly, growing impatient. he smirks up at you, "tell me what you want, baby." he smiles, his fingers playing with the fabric.
dropping your head back, you moaned desperately. rubbing your thighs together. matt tightens his hand around your thigh, shoving it away to separate them. "hm?" he hums lightly. pressing a sloppy kiss on your inner thigh, trying to get an answer out of you.
"matt, please.." you whispered, meeting his eyes. he smiles up at you before effortlessly tugging your shorts and your panties down your legs. throwing them and letting them pool on the floor.
he drags his fingers along your core, "so wet already, hm baby?" matt meets your eyes. bringing the tips of his fingers up to his mouth, licking off your slick with his eyes glued on yours.
the few seconds his skin made contact with yours sent you off the wall. you felt vulnerable, laying in his guest room completely naked as he hovers over you.
without warning, he sticks two of his fingers into your pussy. a loud gasp escaping your throat. he pumps his fingers in and out of you with ease, while you clench your eyes shut.
he pulls away, but quickly replaces the vacant spot with his tongue. you can feel his eyes burning into your skin as he goes down on you. his nose brushes up against your clit perfectly.
your hands wrapped around his hair tightly, bucking your hips up into his face. opening your eyes you can see him losing his composure against you. he moans into your cunt, sending vibrations through your body as you moan back.
matt grows more restless at the sounds you make, and he absentmindedly grinds his hips against the bed; causing him to moan again.
he moves his lips up, sucking harshly on your clit. your moans only eliciting more pleasure through him. he grinds down onto the bed again, slowly gaining a rhythm as he gets himself off.
"fuck matt-" you moaned, dropping your head back again. "m' close-" you bucked your hips up again, sending him into a dazed state.
he pushes you through your high, and drags his tongue up your slit. he looks up at you, his lips red and puffy. matt keeps his eyes on you before quickly pulling down his pajama pants and his boxers.
your eyes drop down as his hard on springs up, drenched in precum. "fuck.." you mumbled under you breath, meeting his eyes before looking back down.
matt hovers over you, lining his hips up with yours. you were still slightly overstimulated but you didn't care at this point. you wanted him to take you as his own.
his eyes search yours, he didn't want to go to far. and you nod vigorously the second he looks at you.
slowly, he pushes his cock into your cunt, one hand gripping your hip. a low moan escapes your throat as he bottoms out. he meets your eyes again before pulling back and thrusting into you.
you moaned, dropping your head back. digging it into the pillow. you tensed around him with each thrust, wrapping your legs around his waist so he can go deeper.
matts hand reached up, and he grabbed you by the chin. "look at me, princess," he huffed with a smile. his thrusts growing more and more sloppy. "i want you to watch me while i do this to you. wanna see you enjoy it." voice getting lower and more faint with every passing word. you met his eyes without protest, your breath beginning to catch in your throat.
he drags his thumb over your parted lips, making you moan before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours.
you struggle keeping your lips with his as each thrust untangles you further. you were loosing yourself entirely underneath him, and you wanted nothing else.
"mmm fuck," matt mumbles against your skin. "cum with me baby.."
you came undone on his twitching member. he lets loose inside you, but doesnt pull back. he sits there and stares out you for what felt like hours, before leaning down and whispering against your neck.
"ive been waiting to do this for so long, y/n." he mumbled. his breath hot, sending a tingly feeling throughout your body. he presses a soft kiss to your neck, before pulling out and kissing your lips once more.
౨ৎ ---- cher
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moonydustx · 8 months
Text
The night cook.
masterlist | requests here
Summary: Insomnia has struck one of the crew and Sanji is willing to find out. Meanwhile, you try to deal with your fear as best you can.
Warnings: I don't know, mention of clowns maybe (yes, exactly what you're thinking).
Word count: 1.4k
Pairing: OPLA!Sanji x F!Reader.
A/N: I have a new obsession and I need to write more and more. I watched the series in one day and now I'm racing against time to catch up with the anime (and soon move on to the manga). It has not been proofread so I apologize for possible errors.
Part 2 here
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Sanji was starting to get stressed.
Despite the short time he had been part of the crew, he already knew where he belonged: the kitchen. He could spend hours there and felt comfortable. But something bothered him. Every morning, some fruit always appeared cut, food scraps in the trash, his knives disorganized. He wouldn't look for trouble right away, but he was aware of every move.
Your steps dragged to the kitchen, after another bad night's sleep. The dark circles under his eyes were visible from afar, as was his bad mood.
"Good morning madame! Glad you joined us today for coffee." Sanji caught your attention, placing your plate in front of you.
"Good morning sunshine, your mood seems to brighten the day." Zoro teased you, only earning an eye roll.
You stared at the food in front of you. They looked appetizing, but hunger seemed to be nowhere in your body. You rolled them from one side to the other, without removing any pieces, while heard the others talking in the distance.
"Everything is fine?" The cook's voice caught your attention, a quick glance was enough to realize that the others had already eaten their meals. "Sorry to say ma'am, but you look tired."
"It's okay Ji. I'm just discouraged." You stand up, handing the plate back to him. "They look delicious, but I'm out of food, I'm sorry."
"Nothing to apologize for, my sweet. I heard that if you eat with a full stomach, or in your case without hunger, you can't enjoy the food and the last thing I want is for you to not like one of my dishes ." He leaned on the table, watching you.
"That's impossible. I could eat anything you make, as long as it's you making it."
It had been a while since the two of you exchanged small gestures, small flirtations. Unlike most other women, you weren't bothered by what he said. You felt seen, admired like never before, even though you knew he would say that to a thousand others. Plus, it was fun to see him shy with your answers.
"So... What can I do special for you today. Choose and I'll do it."
"Surprise me!"
You left it in the kitchen and if you looked back, you could see it lost in your image. None of the other beauties would be like that beauty, her beauty. Even though he was still lost, Sanji tried to regain his thoughts, thinking about the perfect lunch.
You got caught up in the tasks on the boat, all to keep the tiredness out of your body. Despite having heard the call for lunch you decided to postpone it, as well as dinner.
When you returned to bathe, you could see that everyone had retired to their rooms. Even with the most comfortable clothes, the coziest sheet and the cool sea breeze coming through the window, it only took a few minutes of sleep for you to wake up sweating, scared.
You were tired of it would be another wasted night. You got up and went towards the kitchen, since sleep didn't decide to appear that night, hunger had already taken its place and a salad would go well at that moment.
You gathered some radishes to cut and a few slices later, you felt the knife against your skin and was scared.
"So you're the cook for the night!" Sanji spoke suddenly.
Before you could curse him for his fright you had to hold back a scream due to the inconvenience of the pain.
"Shit, let me see." in a matter of seconds, he was already in front of you , holding your injured hand.
"It was nothing, you can rest."
"That, young lady, I will decide later." he gently placed a cloth in your hand, pressing it. "What are you doing up at this hour?"
"I couldn't sleep, I decided to prepare something."
"Honey, what's been going on?" He took your hand again, removing the cloth. "Okay, I have the solution to mine and your problem."
He took you by the hand to the bench, placing you in a sitting position, returned to the kitchen, placing a small container to heat and disappeared from sight for a few seconds, returning with a small box in his hands. It brought everything in front of you, allowing you to see what it was really about. A small box with bandage and a small plate with lasagna.
"I saved it from lunch for you, I think you'll like it."
"You know you're my favorite. Shit!" you immediately regretted trying to use your injured hand to eat.
"Now, we'll fix this." The cut was small but uncomfortable and felt a little deep.
You watched him bend down to your height and tend to the small wound like something precious while you ate. The silence between you didn't last long, against your will.
"When are you going to tell me what's been going on? You know, we're friends." Sanji charged, finishing applying the last strip. "Something is wrong with you and I can't figure it out. Besides, you've been destroying my onions in your nightly escapes."
"I'm having some trouble sleeping..." you tried to leave the explanation superficial, but the look in his eyes made it very clear that he wouldn't just buy that.
"You could have told me, you could have made me some tea or something that would help."
"It's not that." You pushed the plate away and straightened up, trying to look away from Sanji. Shame already dominated your body at that time. "It's a stupid thing."
"No mon amour, it's not. I'm here, talk to me."
"There's only one thing in the world that I'm afraid of: clowns. Be they the cute ones or the psychopaths alike..."
"Buggy. Has he been a problem?" Sanji tried to understand, although it didn't make sense since the crew hadn't seen him in days.
"First we were trapped in his circus and it was horrible. Then we had his head on board and I was sure that at any moment he was going to appear. Now, I can't stop having vivid nightmares about it." you confessed, feeling your face burn with embarrassment. "I can't sleep, so I come here at night and I always cook something. I usually watch you cook and it seems like something so relaxing, so good. It hasn't helped me much with my sleep, but at least I've been eating some of the inedible things I make ."
"I bet they're as good as the ones I make and if you don't mind, I'd love to cook with you one of these nights." he winked, eliciting a smile from you. "But for tonight, we need to sleep, finish your plate and I'll be right back with something."
A few minutes and mouthfuls later, Sanji appeared with two mugs, with some hot liquid inside them.
"Herbal tea. It'll help you fall asleep."
"I have my doubts, but…" you took a sip of the sweet drink. "It doesn't hurt to try. Are you sleep deprived too?"
"Not really, I just couldn't leave a lady drinking alone."
"If this works, I promise to buy you the next drink at a bar."
"Wait. This a date?" he asked and if it were possible, you would see hearts instead of his eyes.
"We have the drink." you pointed to the two mugs. "We had dinner." You pointed to the lasagna. "Sounds like a date."
"That miserable clown at least did one good thing"
"Don't ruin the moment, Ji."
The two of you finished your drinks in silence, a few glances exchanged were enough to get comfortable together. Sanji picked up the dishes on the table and you followed him with slower steps.
"Thank you for helping me."
"Who said our date is over?" he turned around, grasping his arm for you to intertwine. "I would never let a lady go alone to her chambers."
"You are a gentleman."
"Only for you amour." He stopped in front of your door. "It's delivered and safe."
You stood on your toes, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, really." You opened the door and before you could enter, you turned around. "Can I ask you one more thing?"
"Whatever madam wants."
"You can stay here for a while, just until I sleep."
"Of course sweetheart" He walked you into the room.
You straightened the bed and lay down on one end, watching him just stare at you, waiting for some sign that he could sit down.
"Please be my guest."
He lay down and almost automatically gave way for you to snuggle against his chest. Your laughter was suppressed when you saw him smiling widely at the contact.
"A few drinks, a dinner..."
"And you ended up in my bed." your voice was already sleepy. Maybe because of the tea, but something said it was more because of the company.
"And I ended up in the perfect place." reciprocating your gesture just now, in the little conscience you had left, you felt his lips touch your forehead. "Sleep missus. I promise not to let any harm come."
1K notes · View notes
midnightwriter21 · 11 months
Text
demon slayer hcs: the hashira men & their favorite types of kisses
characters: giyuu, tengen, sanemi, rengoku, obanai, muichiro, x fem!reader
warnings: fluffffff, strong language in sanemi’s (i called him a mean name :/)
AN: muichiro is aged up!!! also no gyomei bc i don’t write for him sry :/
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i love them
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GIYUU
this man is so soft
GIVING: kisses to the top of your head
like in the morning when you first wake up
after you make your coffee or tea or whatever u drink
your standing in the kitchen looking out of the window
and he comes up behind you
wraps his arms around your waist
your back pressed against his chest
and he just gives the sweetest lil kiss to the crown of your head
RECEIVING: nose kisses!!
fastest way to bring this man to his knees i swear
just something about you being so close to him but NOT pressing your lips to his
it’s both endearing and annoying lol
but really he loves it
finds it adorable and so so innocent
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TENGEN
i want to be his 4th wife SO bad
anyways
GIVING: soft pecks on the lips
now
do not be fooled
tengen may start off with a soft quick peck
but the SECOND he pulls away
he’s coming back for more
how could he not?
he’s obsessed w u i’m ngl
anyways he’s comin back for another kiss
ands it’s not soft
and it’s not quick
after that initial peck it’s turning into a full on nasty slobbery makeout sesh
yuck
please let me experience this w him
he enjoys the soft pecks because he knows what’s coming after
RECEIVING: a sweet kiss on the arm
now tengens favorite kiss to receive is a lot more intimate than the ones he gives out
when you’re taking a walk together
holding hands
maybe you stop to look at a nice view
and you lean into his side
and give him a chaste kiss on his bicep before leaning your head against it
awhhhh
tengen is internally dying at how cute u are
i’m internally dying at how cute this is
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SANEMI
my BOYFRIENDDDDDD
i’m sanemi trash and what abt it
GIVING: a neck kiss
NOW
before y’all get nasty thoughts
cause ik y’all did
this is innocent
he gives these kisses in the morning when he first wakes up
you’re probably still asleep
and he sits up enough to rest his head in his hand and just looks at you
thinking about how lucky he is
how gorgeous you are
he lays back down, pulling your body close to his
and he buries his head in the crook of your neck
laying a sweet kiss on your neck
on your pulse point
likes feeling the beat of your heart
it’s soothing to him
after he pulls away from your neck he cuddles you even closer than before
if that’s even possible
and goes back to sleep until it’s time for him to leave for a mission
RECEIVING: kisses to his scars
now we all know sanemi is a dumbass bitch that basically self harms right? okay right
so
when y’all have some downtime
and you settle yourself into his lap facing him
when u launch yourself at him and start littering his body with kisses
kissing each and every scar available to you
this man
MELTS
he MELTS BRO
to him, this is you letting him know how important he is to you
how beautiful he is to you
his ears are bright red
but he’s a puddle underneath you now
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RENGOKU
SUNSHINE MAN
such a gentleman!!!
sweetest human ever!!!
GIVING: all of the kisses!!
i’m talking forehead kiss, kiss to the top of your head, kiss on your cheek, kissing your hand
he loves you and wants you to know it
WANTS EVERYONE TO KNOW IT
how does he get everyone to know it?
by showering you in kisses of course!
low key more PDA w kyo then w tengen
but ofc he keeps it PG while tengen doesn’t lololol
RECEIVING: tippy toe kisses!!
this. is. my. fav. hc. for. him. ever.
he does NOT bend down to kiss you on the lips
simply will not do it
when you have to press up onto your tip toes and balance yourself by pressing your hands against his chest to kiss him
he thinks it’s adorable
he doesn’t mean to tease you or make you annoyed
but if you’re not basically climbing him to give him a kiss
then he. don’t. want. it.
it’s just so endearing to see you work for it
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OBANAI
off brand orochimaru
*cough cough* ignore that^
i love him really i swear
ANYWAYS
GIVING: kisses to your hands
he may come off as a mean and scary little gremlin
but for u
he is as soft as a cotton ball
at this point you cannot hold hands w snake boy without him bringing your hands to his mouth and him laying a kiss on the back of your hand
get your nails done? show obanai
cause he’s taking your hand and laying a kiss to each finger
when y’all are laying in bed talking
he’s playing with ur hand
and he’s pressing a kiss to your ring finger!!!!!!
he’s gonna put a ring there someday soon omm
RECEIVING: a kiss to the corner of his mouth
y’all prolly coulda guessed this one if yk anything abt snake bby
but
when y’all are alone
and the bottom half of his face is uncovered
first of all- cover his WHOLE face in kisses
and then pay extra attention to the corners of his mouth
lay a kiss on the outer corner of the scars
and lay a kiss on the inner corner of the scars, right next to his mouth
repeat on the other side.
it’s mandatory when ur dating him i don’t make the rules
he’s insecure abt the scars
doesn’t want to freak people out when they see them
so for you to KISS THEM???
yeah
he’s gonna marry u fs
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MUICHIRO
HE’S SO PRETTYYYYYYY
protect this boy at all costs
GIVING: forehead kiss
he is so sweet
an angel fr
there is not a single. day.
that muichiro is not laying a fat kiss
in the middle of ur forehead
oh he gets called out for a mission?
he’s kissing u on the forehead before running out the door
you cooked him dinner?
he’s kissing u on the forehead and then making his plate
y’all laying in the bed about to go to sleep?
he’s kissing u on the forehead before pulling you close to him for a snuggle
you’re doing anything?
HE’S KISSING U ON THE FOREHEAD
yeah
did i mention he’s kissing u on the forehead?
RECEIVING: surprise kisses
now
he’s a hashira so catching him off guard is quite the task
but!!!
if u manage to do it
like if he’s at the butterfly mansion
talking with tanjiro or som
his guard is down
sneak up on him and lay a kiss on his cheek before running away laughing
bro blushes red af
and then a cute lil smile stretches across his face
sometimes he’ll know you’re sneaking up on him
but he’ll let you do it anyways
he loves hearing your giggle as you run away thinking u caught him by surprise
he’s so in love w u
3K notes · View notes
sh1-n0bu · 1 year
Note
This anon know what is good, i guess i never make a ask so i'm doing now. Can u do that concept with any character (and mc of course) , may a hybrid? Idk, sorry if is confuse, a lil nsfw maybe?
-🍑
✿ 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙪𝙡 𝙩𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙘𝙖𝙩 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 ✿
characters: cat!6reeze x nb!reader
warnings: fluff!!!! fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff! also modern au!
notes: wanted to take a break from writing smut and take inspiration from my own fluffy bby for this one. also @junerixi , simping for only one☝️anemo boy is an illness. i hope you recover soon😚 honkai:star rail ver can be read here!
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art by Mechodes on twt
oh gods
a menace
a complete menace i say
you know that thing cats do? when they just keep a direct eye contact with you as their little fluffy paw slowly pushes your potted plant or a cup full of drink to the edge of the table while you watch hopelessly bc your hands are dirty or busy doing smt?
yeah, it’s the 5th time the flower shop owner is seeing you this week and your wallet is crying
it’s almost as if you two were sworn enemies in your past life and scaranya is out for blood
doesn’t have that much of a zoomie episodes but when he does oh boy
you better retreat into a safe place but even then you’re not safe from scaranya’s terrifying zoomie powers
he’s literally running and jumping around everywhere
the table, on top of the fridge, the curtains, on top of the washing machine, your little bookshelf - everywhere
scaranya is such a little shit (affectionately)
his preferred way of waking you up is faking puking noises and when you throw your covers off and literally zoom into the living room, he gives you a look as if saying “finally awake, you silly human slave”
sometimes he even jumps on top of your chest harshly but that’s only used if you’re oversleeping with your alarm clock snoozed for the past 20 minutes and you’re running late to work
despises baths with a burning passion
if you’re taking him anywhere a large body of water is, he’s trashing around, kicking, hissing, biting, scratching - the whole pack
after a successful bathing time, with added new scratch marks on yourself, he would not approach you until you fall asleep
after you have fell asleep, he would quietly approach your sleeping figure and give small, shy licks to the angry red scratches he caused as if apologizing for being so aggressive
hates rainy days too, especially the ones with thunder and lightning
jumps up 5 ft into the air if a thunder strikes and runs into your lap, shaking small body curling into himself with all of his cockiness and pride out the window
scaranya appreciates you greatly but he’s just a bit too bad at communicating and so he shows his affection by lapping up the scratches he gave you
“scaranya, aren’t you gonna go out to the back garden and play with the rest? it’s nice outside today”
hmph! what do you mean by play with the rest of the cats? he’s a royal! he’s superior! scaranya has never heard of such bullshit befor- oh! a bird! must. catch!
scaranya and miao gets into fights sometimes and whenever you separate them, scaranya goes to sulk in the corner of the house silently
until you go over to him with a sigh and pick him up gently, he doesn’t even resist - just choosing to simply curl his tail around your wrist
a solid 9/10 kitty if he would just stop being a tsundere
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art by Mechodes on twt
miao acts more like a guard dog than a cat sometimes
the smallest out of all the kitties yet also the strongest one. honestly the sheer amount of times miao has taken down a wild dog 10 times his size just keeps giving you more and more heart attack
doesn’t get zoomies, if anything he stops the other kitties’ zoomies if they go a bit too far - which most of the times escalate into scaranya and miao fighting
cleanse the land house through slaughter bug hunting
a sweet baby
miao’s preferred way of waking you up is to silently sit on your side of the bed and stare until you get that feeling of being watched and wake up to 2 piercing yellow eyes just staring holes into your soul
yes, you have yelled and fell off of your bed many times due to that
you found little miao at a dark alleyway, covered in blood and barely on the brink of death with his tiny paws twitching constantly
grew up malnourished on the streets with his 4 siblings dying out one by one, so due to that miao’s body is very small and he’s extremely territorial with you - his one and only sweet human
always leaves his scent on you by rubbing his head around your ankles
miao is indifferent when it comes to taking a bath, unlike scaranya, and he can be very obedient as well
when rubbing soap into his legs and washing his paws he would stretch out his limbs to make it easier for you to wash him - anything to lessen the load of his favorite human
he also seems to like your co-worker, zhongli a lot
one time you came home with zhongli due to a deadline of a great project coming closer and upon seeing him, miao immediately jumped into his lap, purring lowly, rubbing his head on zhongli’s hand
yes your heart broke at the betrayal and yes miao apologized with a dead rat in his mouth
but if it’s any other guests you’re bringing home, then miao would either get on top of the fridge and simply watch or hiss at the guest
oddly likes being in high places
one time, you made him a small necklace-collar thingy out of a few pearls and he wears that with pride, chest puffed out (a replica of his necklace)
loves sleeping on the lower parts of your bed at night. it’s soft, fluffy and he can keep an eye on you and keep you safe so it’s a win-win in miao’s book
“miao-miao, do you wanna come with me to the back garden to pick up the tomatoes?”
before you can even finish your question he’s already at the back door, staring at you expectantly with his tail thumping slowly against the floorboards
thanks to miao and kazunya your house will never get any bugs, roaches or mouses inside
if feeling incredibly vulnerable and soft, miao paws at your arm to ask for pets bc he just needs the comfort of his favorite human
literally a 9/10 kitty if he would just change his way of waking you up
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art by ayon🌿 on twt
heinya is another little shit (affectionately)
he likes to cause trouble and drama here and there
also really enjoys spilling tea to you
it doesn’t matter if you’re waking up and is still groggy or just coming in through the front door, back from work - heinya is spilling all the drama of the shows he watched on the tv while you were away or the different birds he saw through the window - meowing away at you excitedly
another helpful hand
if you’re coming back from grocery shopping then heinya can take some of the smallest and lightest bagged things and dragging them to the kitchen alongside miao, kazunya and nyaether
heinya’s preferred way of waking you up is to make biscuits - you know that cute thing cats do with their paws squishing at their favorite spot over and over - on your stomach or lower back or! he just meows besides your ear over and over until you eventually wake up
the perfect alarm - heinya
he’s such a sweet baby
and heinya really likes watching real life crime documentaries for some reason
at first when you found this out, you couldn’t help but think heinya is going to murder you in your sleep but soon you realized he just loves crime related things
and bc he like crime related things, you bought heinya a cute spy glass shaped squeaky toy
when getting the zoomies, heinya decides to bite and kick at the spy glass shaped squeaky toy - making the toy let out squeaks at every little kick
heinya enjoys spending time outdoors, sniffing at the different scents wafting in the air, tracking down all different sorts of footsteps and paw marks with great interest - you sometimes wonder if heinya was a detective in his past life
loves to bring you all sorts of interesting things he found - an old ripped part of a newspaper article, a weirdly shaped leaf, a flower he has never seen before, a half bitten chicken still warm - wait where’d he get this?
loves to sleep using your hand as a pillow my cat does that to me so rip bc you have been captured by the amazing detective heinya and you won’t be moving for hours on end, let’s hope you had a nice snack and a toilet break beforehand
chose to wear the smooth, black satin you tied around his neck as a collar - either bc he loves to wear soft things or he just loves it bc you gave it to him
heinya is an incredibly affectionate kitty, always meowing for you for pets, cuddles and perhaps his favorite soft wet food? he’s been really good!
doesn’t really mind taking baths as well, if anything he uses this opportunity to shake bubbles everywhere!
for some reason, also loves to groom your hand. maybe it’s just something your kitties all share?
overall another solid 9/10 kitty, if you don’t mind being splashed with water and bubbles while bathing him
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art by @bbadtime on tumblr
kazunya, me beloved
literally an angel, how could you ever be mad at him even as he took a whole bite out of your potted plants’ leaf?
another kitty that loves staying in high places like miao and stay outdoors like heinya
joins miao on his duty to cleanse the land house through slaughter bug hunting from time to time
a lazy, sweetheart of a cat that loves to sleep on warm places and the sunlight - you literally had to buy a window sling just for him to nap under the sunlight
another helpful hand!
will drag the lightest and smallest bagged things to the kitchen whenever you come back from grocery shopping - more so if it’s cat food
isn’t a picky eater but sometimes, just sometimes, prefers food with fish in it’s ingredients
kazunya is mostly tasked to wake you up by the other kitties bc he’s the sweetest
wakes you up by purring and snuggling with your face, neck, hands - anything just you in general
soon enough, the small fluff purring and cuddling you wakes you up and as a reward for waking up, kazunya gives you a small kiss - a lick to the tip of your nose - making you laugh
doesn’t meow a lot, only when he has to or if it’s an emergency such as the litter boxes not being cleaned, the food trays being empty etc
always gives you a kazunya kiss as a thank you
a gentle baby, even to the guests
whenever a guest comes over to your house, they always gush about the cute white cat with a small red streak in his fur
kazunya doesn’t get zoomies. even if he does it’s rare like only once a week
always grooms himself to keep himself clean, not to mention his white fur sparkling as well
surprisingly enjoys bath times, would even suggest you to bathe him by tugging on your sleeve then pointing to the bathroom with his fluffy paw!
however there’s just one thing that kazunya does that makes you shiver
it’s that he always, always! brings you dead animals or bugs. birds, rats, mouses, cockroaches, crickets - anything that he managed to hunt - he brings over to you with his tail swishing happily behind him
it’s considered a gift in cat language, you know that! but it’s just a bit dirty especially if he brings over different bugs. the rats, mouses and birds you can handle but the bugs brrr
one time, kazunya proudly brought you a dead wolf spider as you held back a tear and a screech, deciding to take his gift with a forced smile
you never recovered from that
a 10/10 kitty if he would just stop bringing you dead spide - kazunya is that a mf dead tarantula in your mouth?
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art by os_Amaniwa on twt
another best kitty!
a sweet kitty that never complains!
helpful, never complains, never picky with his food - a literal angel
however sometimes nyaeather disappears randomly, coming back after a day or so
he always seems to be searching for something - his twin - you soon found out, by registering him and getting his pet password
and so you decided to help him reunite with his twin by putting up posters, articles, news on the internet, tv, radio - anything to make nyaether happy
after a whole half year of dedication and endless search, nyaether’s twin was finally found!
turns out the person who adopted nyaether’s twin was your co-worker, dainsleif, the quiet and mysterious tall man
after talking to him about the situation of the twin kitties, you both have come to an agreement to let the kitties have a play date once a week
when the day of the first play date has arrived an someone knocked on your door, your kitties gave you a confused look
upon taking nyaether in your arms, you walked over to the front door before unlocking it and letting dainsleif inside. as the blond man placed down the catbag and opened it, from inside stepped out a cute, similarly blonde furred kitty with a baby blue colored collar
upon seeing the kitty, nyaether jumped out of your arms and tackled his twin. cuddling her and licking at her face with a teary eyes - you and your co-worker dainsleif couldn’t help but laugh at the adorable situation
since then nyaether had made a silent oath to always be beside you and be your best kitty! you have done a lot for him by helping him reunite with his twin - nyumine - so he would do anything in his power to lessen your load!
nyaether’s preferred way of waking you up is by giving a gentle meow beside your ear and give your cheek three kisses - repeat the process on the other side until you eventually giggle and wake up
another kitty that doesn’t mind taking baths! however he just prefers the water to have a bit of bubbles to soothe his nerves
likes to sleep in your arms since he has separation anxiety like scaranya - due to the incident with his twin
“nyaether, keep the others in check okay? i’m going out on a quick grocery shopping!”
“myaaa!”
such a sweet baby🥹
his meows are higher pitched and not full “meow” like kazunya or miao’s instead it’s a short “myaa!”
a solid 11/10 kitty. highly recommend, get yourself a nyaether today!
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art by os_Amaniwa on twt
a little shit AND a menace (affectionately)
very hyper too! sometimes you wonder if nyenti has ADHD but in cat version
it’s like he’s always in his zoomie mode as if to make up for having 2 kitties that barely has zoomies - which are miao and kazunya
his affectionate attitude doesn’t help as well
twirling, rubbing himself on your lap, hand, bageling his way around you - he’s always sticking close to you 24/7
one time as nyenti was rubbing himself on your hand while you were working on your computer for an important document, he tripped and fell on your keyboard - deleting your entire progress of work with a “myeeew!”
yes, you cried that night
unlike heinya, nyenti doesn’t really enjoy being outdoors - he just prefers to stay on your lap, lazily bathing in the sun - as he sometimes meows with heinya about some dramas
another kitty that loves to spill the tea to you
him and heinya meows your ears off with the things they have seen, watched, witnessed and heard - sometimes even adding some dirt on the other kitties such as kazunya eating leaves from your potted plants, scaranya sleeping on your hoodie bc he missed you, miao destroying the pantry during his duty to cleanse the land etc etc etc
nyenti’s preferred way of waking you up is to play with your hair. whether it be grooming at your hair, playing with them, tugging on the ends gently - it doesn’t matter which form - as long as nyenti wakes you up, that’s all
he also doesn’t do much hunting either, preferring to watch from the sidelines as the others chase some bugs and small animals they found
for some odd reason nyenti likes you to put flowers on top of his head or a flower shaped charms as a collar - his most favorite and preferred one being the white lily
cut the flower's bud and place it on top of nyenti upside down like it's a cone hat and nyenti would give you the biggest, affectionate "myew!" while rolling around on the ground, showing you his tummy
a sweet kitty if he would just stop being a little zoomie induced shit
nyenti is another kitty that hates taking baths
doesn't react as aggressive as scaranya but he likes to yell his defiance a lot and i mean a lot
overall, a solid 8.5/10 kitty if he would just stop meowing loudly in your ears everytime you take him for a bathtime, making you more and more deaf
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sucker4colby · 10 months
Text
Parties over: Part 2
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Summary : Colby’s in the doghouse after forgetting his girlfriends birthday to hang out with amber. He has to knock down the wall she built around herself.
Warning : angst , jealousy , insecurity, cussing
Pairing: Colby Brock x female reader
Part 1
It took me a moment to be able to tear my gaze away from my reflection and to stop criticizing everything I saw. I had to accept today was going to be one of those where I wasn’t comfortable in my own skin so I just made my way downstairs after changing into shorts and a knitted sweater hoping I wouldn’t see the blue eyed boy I was upset with.
Unfortunately for me he sat at the island eating a bowl of cereal in his own world as our friends did their own thing around him. I noticed how his hair was unruly and he looked tired as If he didn’t sleep last night. My eyes snapped away from him as Sam called out my name. “ there’s breakfast over on the counter if you want some.” The blonde boy pointed over his shoulder at the counter where a stack of waffles resided. I could see Colby’s head snap up from the corner of my eyes to look at me as his friend announced my presence but I avoided looking at him knowing I’d break on the spot to look at him. I smiled at Sam muttering a thank you as I made my way over to the food.
I heard his chair scrape against the floor as he hurriedly walked over to me stopping me from taking a plate . “ I can get your food.” Colby offered grabbing the plate I was reaching for looking down at me. Anger bubbled up inside of me and I glared at him. “ I’m not hungry anymore thanks.” I spat spinning on my heels and walking away from the prying eyes of our friends. He was just going to act like he didn’t blow me off on my birthday to be with another woman and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let that slide.
I might overreacted but If I wasn’t important enough why did he keep the act up, why not just rip the bandage off and break up with me. I sighed walking into the living room to see the mess from last night, cups ,trash bottles of liquor littered every surface. Grabbing a trash bag from the cabinet I began picking up hoping to get a head start before everyone came to help out.
I know he was standing there trying to figure out how to approach me but I couldn’t bring myself to ask him what he needed so I just pretended he wasn’t there. It was a difficult task to do when his blue eyes felt like they were burning a hole in my skin, I could see the distraught look on his face and it hurt my heart but he was the one who messed up.
Finally he cleared his throat to announce his presence as if I didn’t already know, it was hard not know when you’ve memorized the sound of his footsteps and when his presence filled up the whole room. I looked up to meet his sad eyes quirking an eyebrow up at him. “ I have something for you.” He told me in a small voice and brought his hands out in front of him presenting a small black box. I could see him deflect more as he noticed I wasn’t changing my stoic composure towards him. “ I also ordered you a cake from that bakery you like, I know you wanted one of those for your birthday.” He rambled only making me more upset. I hated that I couldn’t stay angry at him, was I really that smitten over him that I’d roll over and act like nothing happened just because it was him.
“ yeah for my birthday Colby.. which was yesterday had you of cared enough you would’ve remembered but how could you ? You were a bit …preoccupied.” I spat out the last word throwing the trash bag on the couch moving past him to go cool off in my room.
I threw myself on the bed and cried wishing my comforter would just hide me away from everything. He was probably trying to be nice so he wouldn’t feel bad once he left me for amber. My chest burned with jealousy at the thought of him doing everything I wanted of him for her, why wasn’t I good enough for him, He was everything for me and maybe that was the problem. I had to make it easier on both of us and end things myself because I know he wouldn’t do it.
I didn’t hear my door open or close but I noticed my bed dip making me wipe my eyes and look out from under cover. I cried even harder once I saw Colby sitting next me. He had tears in his eyes as well as he moved to put me on his lap, I didn’t try to fight him because this is probably the last time I’ll get to be in his arms. I wanted to memorize everything about him before I lost him.
“Baby I’m so sorry, I was a dumbass, I promise I didn’t mean to forget I just had to much on my plate and I got my days mixed up.” He sniffled setting his cheek on my head and caressing my leg knowing that calmed me down. “Do you not love me anymore?" I asked looking down at my lap picking at the loose thread on my knitted sweater. I felt like I could throw up waiting for him to answer me. "What ?" He asked me I could feel the bed shift under his weight as he turned to face me.
My face heated up at having to repeat my previous statement. I was embarrassed I had to ask him if he still loved me , if he did I wouldn't have to ask and save myself the heartache. " if you don't that's ok, i just.. I feel like I should know if you don't love me anymore, no one should be in a relationship without love." I mumbled my voice cracking as I tried to stop myself from crying even more. I could feel the tears pooling at my waterline even more as I tried to stop myself causing me to grow frustrated with myself . I put my hands over my face shielding my face from his view as my body shook after each sob.
“ baby I love you so much it hurts, I’m so sorry I made you feel like this. I’m sorry I made you doubt my love for you.” He whimpered rocking us back and forth holding me tighter to his body. “ I love you so so much, I was looking forward to yesterdays date because that’s the day my love was born, I should’ve been here but I promise I’ll make it up to you now.” He whispered kissing the crown of my head and I wrapped my arms around him. My heart softening “ I could never love anyone the way I love you, I can’t imagine getting so excited to come home to someone that isn’t you, you’re my favorite part of everyday and I don’t ever want to lose that.” His words slowly eased my worries.
I felt horrible because Colby wasn’t a bad person and he’d never intentionally hurt someone. I was so insecure I forgot how kind hearted and pure he was, That’s why I fell in love with him in the first place. I was caught up in my head I almost him because I was being childish. “ I’m sorry, I overreacted.” I hiccuped into his neck as I hugged him close to my body. He let out a small laugh rubbing circles on my back under my sweater. “ I think you under-reacted, I thought I was done for.” He told me causing me to giggle. “ I’m really sorry baby I know you were looking forward to your birthday.” He apologized again leaning back to look at me. I sat back on his lap to look at him. “ I just wanted to be with you, but you’re here now and that’s all I care about.” I told him making sure he knew I just wanted him.
He smiled and placed a kiss on my lips causing a smile to grow on my face. “ that one’s because I’m sorry and these are because you turned 23.” He said before attacking my face with kisses causing me to laugh as he counted each kiss. He let out a quick oh reaching over the bed to retrieve the same black box he had shown me earlier passing it over to me. I shot him a questioning look taking the small box and opening it. My eyes started watering again and I let out a small gasp at the small necklace that rested inside. “ I chose this out a while back and I wanted something you could wear everyday.” He explained taking it out of my hands and moving my hair to the side, I moved on his lap so he could clip it on. “ thank you, I love it.” I told him as he placed a delicate kiss on my expose shoulder where my sweater started slipping off. “ I love you .” He mumbled wrapping his arms around my again pulling my into his chest. I exhaled in relief leaning back and taking comfort in his warmth knowing we’d be ok, I had fallen in love with the sweetest soul and as perfect as he was he was only human, he was bound to make mistakes.
—————
Part 2 guys !!!
I hope you enjoyed it. I almost made them break up but I just couldn’t bring myself to make Colby the bad guy 🥲
Let me know what you guys think !!!
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ashwhowrites · 6 months
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Could you write something about older!neighbor!eddie and reader being fwb and she get pregnant and doesn’t want to tell Eddie bc he always said he didn’t want kids so she starts avoiding him and looking for a new place to live. Eddie ends up finding out about the baby bc he comes over to readers place because she’s been kinda sick lately and wants to check up on her and ends up seeing the ultrasound pictures. He tells reader that even though he never wanted kids he’s going to be there for her and their child (up to you if they end up together or not)?? I love your fics so much 🧡🧡🧡
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting! <3
Baby on board
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Y/N has been sleeping with her neighbor for the last four months. Yeah, as in fucking each other until they were panting messes. She tried just to be his neighbor, he was older and rough around the edges. She was young and lived alone. It was hard to act like Eddie was not dropping to her knees attractive. She had to act like she didn't burn at the thought of him. But when he showed interest? Of course, she went for it.
But fuck
What a bad fucking idea
~~~
"Congratulations, you are pregnant. The tests at home were correct." The doctor said, a bright fake white tooth smile. Y/N felt sick to her stomach, reaching for the trash as she emptied her insides.
Y/N left the hospital, her head spinning. She knew the baby was Eddie's. She wasn't sleeping with anyone else, and Eddie loved cumming inside of her. It was dumb on her part, but she can blame it on being young. Him? He has no excuse.
But she knew Eddie didn't want kids. He's in his forties, divorced, and spends his time drinking beer. He was at the stage in his life where kids left his head. Oh, and the fact he got into a divorce over kids in the first place.
She was an idiot.
~~~
Over the few weeks, Y/N tried her best to stay hidden from Eddie. She stopped answering his calls, refused to leave the house unless it was an emergency, and avoided him and his house at all times.
She had a few more appointments, now leaving the doctor with ultrasound pictures. She couldn't help but grow excited about being a mom. Sure, she'd be on her own, alone, and terrified. But she tried to not focus on that, and focus on the fact she was going to have a baby.
She thought about telling Eddie, but running away was easier. She couldn't face his disappointment or anger. It was easier to leave him before he could. She sat online and searched for a new place to live. With a kid on the way, she thought an apartment would be best for her to afford.
She didn't hide from Eddie as well as she thought. He paid too close attention for her to hide everything from him. He could see her exhausted body getting out of the car, carrying bags of medicine, ice cream, and who knows what else.
He was worried about her. She stopped talking to him out of the blue, and she didn't look well. She'd look in the direction of his house in fear, racing to her front door. His calls went unanswered, his knocks never allowed the door to open, and he couldn't get out of his house fast enough to catch her.
But today he was going to talk to her.
He walked out of his house, cursing at the cold and the snow beneath his shoes. He cuddled into his sweatshirt a little more as he walked a few feet over. He blew hot air on his hands then knocked.....and knocked.
"I KNOW YOU'RE HOME!" he yelled, but no answer.
"I'M NOT LEAVING UNTIL WE TALK SO I'LL FREEZE OUT HERE ALL NIGHT. IF YOU CARE ABOUT ME, I THINK YOU WOULDN'T WANT THAT!" he was too old for this shit. He felt like a child locked him out of his house and was laughing at him on the other side.
But when she opened the door, she wasn't laughing. She had a blanket over her body, her eyes bloodshot, and her skin pale.
"Oh my gosh, are you okay?" He rushed out, he pushed himself inside before she could protest. His shoes kicked off as he began to rub her arms.
"Just sick." She shrugged, it wasn't a whole lie. She technically was throwing up.
"Oh, baby." He said, wrapping his arms around her. She cursed at herself for melting in his arms. For sneaking an inhale of his scent and shuddering against his hard body. His facial hair scratched across her forehead as he planted a kiss.
"Let's get you back in bed and I'll make you some soup." He said. She almost wanted to laugh at the irony. Here he was, acting like a perfect caring partner. But he didn't want that with her.
She didn't say a word, trying her best to push her feelings aside. She was moving away from him.
After Eddie tucked her in, he walked down to her kitchen. He tried to remember the few times he was over and watched her cook. As the soup heated on the stove, he looked around. His eyes caught black and white photos. Curiosity took over as he grabbed the photos.
His stomach twisted in uncomfortable ways, all tied in knots as he took in the ultrasound. She was pregnant.
He knew it wasn't right to be mad at her, but he was clenching every part of his body. He knew getting involved with a younger girl was a dumb idea, and it was even dumber to fall for her.
He grabbed the pictures, turned off the stove, and marched upstairs. He knew he should be calm down and not make her feel worse, but he couldn't.
"Where's the soup?" She asked, her teasing smile fell when she saw him holding the pictures.
"What the fuck is this?" He snapped, she felt her body tense at the anger in his voice. She knew he wouldn't be happy about this, but she didn't think he'd look so pissed.
"Ultrasound pictures." She said quietly, she feared for what would come next.
"That's why you've been avoiding me? Because you've been pregnant with some other bastard's baby?" He growled, angrily throwing the pictures at the bottom of her bed. He wasn't sure what the feeling was in his stomach, but the thought of some other boy being with her, inside of her, and connecting himself to her made him sick.
But that's not what she expected.
"What!" She was shocked. She didn't think for a second Eddie would think she was off sleeping around. She didn't think he was, but now she felt sick thinking about that too.
"You could have been honest and told me to fuck off. Instead, you have me chasing you, and now I look like an idiot." He argued.
"I've been avoiding you because the baby is yours." She said, simple and straight to it. She watched as his angry act dropped. His eyes are wide and his jaw is open.
"Fuck, I'm sorry." Eddie sighed, he felt guilty for getting so mad at her.
"I didn't say anything because I know you never wanted kids and I couldn't handle you hating me." Her sad voice broke his heart.
"Oh baby," he sighed, he walked over to the side of the bed. He dropped to his knees and held her hand.
"I need to be honest with you." He said, she swallowed nervously.
"My ex and I weren't exactly in love. We were two people living together. I didn't want kids and we got divorced. I figured I wouldn't want kids with anyone, but you changed that." He explained, Y/N was confused, and he could see that.
"I've been too nervous to ask you out because I figured you wouldn't want a future with someone who's kinda ahead of you. You're so young, and I figured you wouldn't want to settle down with a guy who couldn't give you a family. But I did." She felt her heart race as his voice got stuck in his throat. His brown eyes filled with water.
She squeezed his hand and he kissed her skin.
"I fell in love with you. And I've spent so many nights dreaming of having little versions of us running around. I adore you and I want even more of you. To have one more of you or as many as three. Be connected to you for the rest of my life." His words caused her eyes to water as well. She feared he wouldn't want the baby or her. But hearing he dreamed of both filled her with so much hope.
"I love you too." She smiled, sniffling as he smiled back.
"Let's have a baby!" He cheered, his tears falling as he cupped her cheeks.
"A baby!" She repeated, laughing as Eddie smothered her face in kisses.
Eddie pressed his lips against hers, his hands covering her cheeks. She kissed back, her hands on her lap as she melted into him.
"Gonna be the best dad ever, promise." He whispered against her lips.
"I know you will be, Munson."
Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37
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