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xzaddyzanakinx · 3 months

Text

Study Buddy pt1

Stepdad!Anakin x femme reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: dubcon, dd/lg, PiV, unprotected sex, gen. smut, baby trapping, edging kinda?, manipulation, possessiveness, age-gap, stepcest, inappropriate relationship, praise kink, breeding kink, innocence/purity kink

Info: stepdad Anakin just adores his stepdaughter! It’s not his fault that she’s so fucking fine. Anakin is a perv but it’s okay cause he loves you, Anakin just wants the best for you! And the best for you is him, obviously. spoiled little naive brat reader but Anakin prefers you that way. Reader acts more innocent/naive than they really are. Reader is over 18

🕊 Dead dove do not eat 🕊

The one where you just need alittle extra incentive.

You sighed, taking your calculus homework into the living room. Handing Anakin the Pepsi he requested and sat down in the floor. Leaning back against the couch and setting the notebook down on the coffee table so you could get back to work.

"Good girl." He praised, his fingers brushing against your cheek from behind you. He took a long drag from his cigarette before exhaling a cloud of smoke.

"What are you working on?" His eyes trailed downwards, lingering on your body for a moment, taking the opportunity to stare at the dimples in the small of your back. He was relaxed, shirtless and in his favorite pj pants with his socked feet kicked up on the coffee table next to you.

“Calculus homework.” You grumbled. “my brain is basically fried. This shit is driving me nuts.”

You pushed the notebook away in frustration and twirled the pencil between your fingers.

“Hey. Language.” He said gruffly. “Chill out, do you want help? I’m pretty alright at math.”

“Actually, yeah that would be great.” You nodded, grumbling in frustration.

Sometimes all you needed to understand something is to see it from a different angle, maybe Anakin, your step-dad could help with that.

"Alright, alright." He chuckled softly to himself before putting out his cigarette.

Standing up to stretch his arms above his head. The dark hairs leading to the waist of his pants exposed as his shirt rode up his abdomen. He knelt down so his face was level with yours. Reaching out, he took the notebook from you and scanned the pages.

"Hmm... huh... well, let's start here," he said, pointing to a problem written in your neat handwriting. Grunting as he sat down next to you, his arms resting on his knees.

After solving the equation he helped with the next question, and you were finally starting to get the hang of it. He gave you a kiss on the cheek as a reward, a soft one that made you smile, one that said ‘I’m so proud of you!’. For the next one you got right it was an unexpected but smooth kiss to your lips.

“Daddy.” You whispered in shock at his real kiss. “We’re not supposed to do that!”

Anakin’s gaze softened as he pulled you into a comforting hug.

“Aw sweet girl, I’m sorry. I should’ve explained myself first.” He sighed.

“This is real hard work isn’t it?” He asked, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah it is.” You nodded.

He laughed a little. “And what do I always say when you do hard work?”

“You always tell me hard work deserves big rewards.” You grinned, thinking of all the times he’d taken you out to your favorite restaurant, to see a new movie, to buy you new things.

But your favorite rewards and treats were the ones he got you on his way home from work. Sometimes when he felt like you needed a little pick-me up, he’d stop at the store and get you a box of candy or one of those tiny little cutesy squishmallows that come in the surprise eggs.

He smiled, giving you a light squeeze just above the knee. “Exactly!”

“I’ve found a much better way to reward you my sweet girl.” He spoke in a cheerful tone in an attempt to make you smile and it was working effortlessly. “Somethin’ real special that I think you will love.”

“And it’s kisses?” You said, tilting your head to the side.

“Sometimes kisses, sometimes not.” He said, giving you a chaste kiss on the forehead.

“Well what’s the sometimes not?” You asked excitedly, what could possibly be better than kisses?

“Oh come on now.” He teased. “Treats and rewards are always better as surprises aren’t they?”

“Yeah you’re right.” You giggled.

“That's better," he cooed, satisfied by your reaction.

“Now come here, let's continue our 'lesson.'" With a gentle tug, he pulled you into the empty space between his legs, scooting your back toward him enough that he could easily rest his chin on your shoulder to watch you work.

He placed the notebook back on the coffee table and leaned in closer, his breath brushing against your neck as he spoke.

“So, how about we start with some stuff you already know? Something simple to ease us back into things?" He traced slow circles on your exposed lower back with his thumb, his fingers pressing gently into the flesh of your stomach as his massive hand rested on your side.

"O-okay..." You stuttered, unable to ignore the sudden warmth spreading throughout your body.

“Alright.” He nodded, flipping through the text book until he reached the previous chapter you had been working on in class. He wrote out some equations for you to solve and quickly worked them out himself on his phone calculator before typing the answers in his notes app and telling you to get started.

Each step in the equation that you did correctly Anakin would press a tiny little barely there kiss to your shoulder.

“You’re doing real good doll-face.” He praised you quietly with his cheek pressed against yours and couldn’t help but smile when you felt him do the same.

“Just keep working hard and I’ll help when you need me to. But right now, try to work them out yourself and I’ll keep giving you sweet little reward kisses!” He said happily.

“Okay Daddy.” You smiled, leaning back against his chest and setting out to work on the next question.

He chuckled softly, pleased with your progress and willingness to please. As you finished each equation, he would whisper sweet words of encouragement followed by little kisses along your neck and shoulders. He even nibbled your earlobe a few times, which you quickly discovered had that strange butterfly effect in your tummy as well.

"Good girl, good girl," he murmured approvingly as your confidence in your work grew. "You're doing great, keep it up."

“Alright, now I’m gonna make you some new ones, they’re gonna be harder alright? Once we get these down, I’ll set up some more difficult ones and then you can try to ones you were assigned for homework. They’ll seem easy after you’ve worked so hard on these other ones!” Anakin explained as he began writing out new equations for you to solve.

He took great care in making sure to double check the answers to ensure he’d be able to properly tutor you.

After getting the first more advanced one finished correctly, Anakin started his plan to give you a new reward.

“Look at you princess, you’re doing so well!” His voice flowing soothingly as he switched from sweet chaste kisses to nibbling and sucking on your neck.

You gasped, in a state of awe at the way he could turn those chaste kisses into something warm and wet and lingering. Those silky soft lips momentarily destroying your ability to think freely.

While you were distracted, he took the opportunity to sweeten the pot. One of his calloused hands defied any pre-conceived notions that one might associate with such an attribute. One might expect a man with hands like Anakin’s; large rough palms, long fingers, overall strong and veiny, to be brutish or rough.

Though it seemed he was naturally the direct opposite. One of those big strong hands slid from it’s resting place to slip beneath the hem of your shirt. Splaying those long fingers across the expanse of your lower abdomen, pressing gently, just enough to properly feel each breath you took from the rise and fall of your tummy.

After a moment of savoring this intimacy Anakin brought that same hand up over the fabric of your shirt once more. A slow ascent to cup your breast, remaining motionless despite the twitch of his finger that exposed his want for more than a simple touch.

After the next correct answer he finally allowed that eager twitch to bloom into small deliberate circles around your nipple. Sparingly brushing his thumb over the hardened nub in order to properly appreciate and enjoy the helpless whimper that escaped your lips each time.

“Next question?” You asked quietly, Anakin only mumbling a ‘yes’ against your skin as he kept up his slow sensual neck and shoulder kisses paired with both of his now hands softly massaging your breasts and nipples. The added squeeze of his palm was almost soothing. As though he aimed to tame the warming embers of desire that lay dormant beneath your skin.

"Atta girl," he praised, his voice low and husky.

"Now, let's try this one." He observed attentively while you struggled to focus on the task at hand.

He chuckled at the way you squirmed every so often and relented, now guiding you through each step while his hands continued their teasing exploration of your body.

"Almost there, I believe in you sweetheart." Somehow his words felt like the rays of afternoon summer sun that shone through the curtains. You imagined that this must be the equivalent to how your cat feels when he bathes in those rays.

“Well babydoll, this is how we’ll do your homework from now on! You’re doing so so good!” He praised you, reluctantly removing his hands from your breasts.

“You deserve alittle brain break okay?” He said, guiding your head to turn with one finger on your jaw.

Before you could speak Anakin slotted his lips against yours. His tongue swiping lightly across your bottom lip, a slight up turn of his mouth when you gasped. He gently, slowly probed your mouth with his tongue; savoring the unique flavor of you.

‘Raspberry tea and honey, yes, that’s it. That’s what she tastes like.’ He decided, locking that information away into the corner of his mind that was reserved for you. Though that corner was becoming much like the chair in the corner of your room that overflowed with clothes. A few more things stacked on top would topple the precarious pile, spilling all things you into every crack and crevice of his conscience.

Meanwhile you were currently short circuiting. The onslaught of completely foreign sensations he’d provided you with was beginning to quite literally fry your brain. You felt warm, mushy, like your brain was goo and your body was clay, ready and willing to be molded to Anakin in whatever new ways he saw fit.

He pulled back, a wide toothy grin taking over when he saw the glaze that had taken over your eyes. Those beautiful eyes, their rich color stolen away by the deep black of your pupil.

“See? You needed that huh?” He cooed, running his thumb down your jaw while we waited patiently for you to collect yourself enough to respond.

“Uh… uh huh.” You nodded slowly, your cheeks flushed and your throat feeling tight as stoked those ember-coals within you, now burning to form a red hot flame.

“Can I try something pretty girl?” He asked in that seductive whisper.

“Oh, ‘course daddy.” You breathed out, of course you’d let him. You’d let him do anything if it meant you could have more of this.

“Thank you baby.” He whispered as he gently rolled the hem of your shirt up, guiding it up and over your head.

You whimpered, the cool air hitting your burning hot flesh making a cold shiver travel up your spine. You swear you heard a little moan coming from Anakin when he finally caught a glimpse of your bare back, and you were positive you heard one when he reached around once more to massage your breasts and toy with your nipples; he was so incredibly grateful to be rid of that pesky fabric barrier, and even more grateful that you never wore a bra at home.

He squeezed and pulled your nipples gently rolling them between his fore finger and thumb. The feeling was good, warm, and tingly; somehow even better than before. Inwardly you wanted to smack him for not taking off your shirt sooner.

A low moan left your lips Anakin reacting with a light chuckle and a sloppy kiss to the under side of your jaw.

“That's it, you're doing great," He praised, his voice dripping with pride; pride at how well you were responding to him.

He was proud of the you he was slowly bringing to the surface. Teasing the little minx that hid behind your innocence, he knew it was waiting for him. Ready for him to capture and keep it, to train it to feed from his palm.

"Now, let's try this one." He suggested, showing you another equation.

Now his fingers trailed slowly down your stomach towards the top of your shorts. He paused just above them, to follow the curve of the elastic cotton waistband with featherlight fingertips.

"This one might be a bit trickier, but remember, I believe in you." He cooed.

“Okay daddy.” You nodded, breathing heavier. “If you think I can do it.”

“I do princess.” *He reassured you.

Anakin's touch became increasingly bold, his fingers making their way to your inner thighs. Leaving tingling sensation to form between your legs, you jolted for a moment, that single flame of desire growing, burning hotter and hotter.

“Lift up sweetheart.” He whispered.

“M’kay.” You squeaked, your voice feeling small.

He gently removed your shorts, a satisfied hum rumbled in his chest when you sat back down and his hand returned to its rightful place between your thighs.

His teasing touch, the torturously gentle tracing of the edges of your panties making your wetness seep through the thin material of your underwear. He continued to stimulate your nipples, and switched to the opposite side of your neck, while he changed tactics on your lower half. Two fingers pressing lightly against that dampened cotton, massaging slowly, making you squirm slightly in response.

“Oh no, is that uncomfy?” He asked gently, concern in his tone.

“Yes,” You whimpered. “all tingly.”

“It won’t be for long alright princess? Daddy’s right here to help.” He promised, his lips against your ear lobe.

“But-“ You started, wanting to complain. Wanting to ask for more; more of what? Good question and only Anakin had that answer.

He tsks, shaking his head slightly. “Finish this one up sweetheart.”

You whined in response and huffed at not getting your way. But followed instructions regardless because Anakin was always right, he was always here to help, always here to guide you, and always gave in to your wants eventually. He couldn’t stand to tell you no, he just couldn’t do it. It was like it physically pained him to see your bottom lip in a pout.

He signed and applied alittle more pressure to encourage you to get back to your work.

A few agonizing minutes later he confirmed your answer was correct, resulting in your excited and eager reaction. You turned slightly to look back at Anakin expectantly,

He grinned, rolling his eyes. He knew exactly what you were doing, you were waiting for him to deal the next card in your new game.

"Perfect job darlin’ you got it on the first try!” He praised, nuzzling into your hair to smell the warm vanilla scent of it.

He tapped your thigh and you instinctively lifted your legs up. He cooed, soothing words while slipping your panties off and lifting you into his lap. Your wet pussy pressed against the large bulge in his pants, those two fingers slipping past your pussy lips. He coated his digits in your slick, dragging them back and forth, up and down your slit.

“Is that right? Did I do that one? I feel like it’s n-not right.” You asked him for help, and when he confirmed it was correct he dipped the very tip of his middle finger in between your soaking wet folds.

“That's right, baby girl." His voice was low and husky, though alittle richer, perhaps it could be described better as darker.

"Now let's try this one together." With a slow motion, he inserted his middle finger into you fully. As you struggled with keeping your sanity, trying to hold a pencil, and trying not to cry from the overwhelming urge for more, Anakin was merely breathing heavily. Occasionally grunting as your cunt fluttered around his finger, his cock throbbing against you.

"How does that feel?" He asked, his tone dripping with satisfaction at watching you squirm and writhe under his touch.

“I- I like it daddy. It feels good.” You whined, feeling him add a second finger and stretching you a bit. It burned, but in a good way.

“That’s right baby.” Anakin nodded. “It’s supposed to feel good, and I’ll make it even better after we get alllll this silly homework done okay?”

Anakin said as you bucked lightly against his palm, chuckling when he heard a low moan escape your lips as he curled his fingers and pushed them in slowly, dragging them back out even slower. The snail’s pace was tolerable, a thousand times more satisfactory compared to his mean and teasing touches before, though they still continually added to that growing fire pit of yours.

“That's it, baby girl." He praised, adding another finger to stretch you even more.

“Daddy.” You hissed, sucking air through your teeth.

“I know darlin’ it’s okay.” He soothed. “Just sit real still.”

You sniffled, accidentally wiggling a bit too much. “S’hurting daddy.”

He began to thrust his three long digits slowly in and out of you, his hips rocking rhythmically in time with his hands movements.

“Shhh. My little princess." Anakin's voice was filled with sympathy, his fingers moving slower inside you. His thumb starting to rub circles on your sensitive nub. “Daddy’s here, just trust me.”

Your furrowed eyebrows slowly turned into an upward swoop, your anxious lip biting coming to a halt as your jaw dropped open in a silent moan.

“That’s better isn’t it doll?” Anakin asked, a low hum reverberating from him after you responded with a rapid head nod and an experimental roll of your hips.

“Much better.” You breathed out a sigh of relief, his fingers starting up that slow pace again. His thumb flicking back and forth across your puffy little clit.

“This calculus is real hard huh?” He said.

“Yeah it is.” You mumbled, meaning to sound angry, but it really just sounded like a plea.

“Gimme your hand babydoll.” He softly commands.

You let him take your hand and guide it behind you, helping you wrap your delicate fingers around the rock hard bulge in his pants.

“Daddy…” You moaned as your body responded to the feel of his cock in your hand.

“Do you know what a cock is? What it looks like? What it’s for?” He asked slowly and you giggled, nodding in response to his questions.

“Have you ever touched one?” You vehemently said no absolutely not.

“Well daddy is gonna pull out his cock, and help you settle down on it alright? We’ll go real slow and gentle; you tell me immediately if you want me to stop okay?” He explained while softly gliding his hand through your hair, while continuing his slow exploration of the warm, gummy walls of your cunt.

“Can I see?” You asked timidly.

“Of course doll. You can touch it too if you want.” He said softly, removing his fingers from your tight hole.

He took a minute to admire the creamy slick gathered on his digits before offering you one of his fingers.

“Do you wanna know what you taste like?” His voice dark and almost sinister.

You didn’t answer, just parted your lips and let the tip of your tongue hang out. He smirked and slipped his index finger past your lips and rubbed it on your tongue. Your nose scrunched up for a moment, the taste unfamiliar and strange, but it was easy to get used to.

He chuckled, removing it so that he could properly clean each finger with his lips and tongue. Sucking each digit thoroughly, moaning with his eyes fluttering closed at the first taste.

“So sweet.” He whispered.

“Hop up and turn around for me sweetheart.” He said, pinching your ass cheek playfully, just hard enough to make you yelp.

You did as requested and settled back on his thighs. His face was just as red as yours felt. His pupils dilated beyond belief, his bare chest had a thin sheen of sweat. His plump bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he finally got a good look at you.

He had wanted to wait. To wait until he couldn’t stand it any longer. The teasing was for him just as much as it was for you. The reward of such a long and torturous game was well and wholly worth it. To finally see you like this. Flushed and wanton, needy for his cock.

Those tits. God those fucking tits… he moaned cupping them in his hands again. They were beautiful when he could see them from behind you, looking down at them from over your shoulder. But up close and in his face? Stunning. Absolutely breathtakingly stunning.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He whispered, entranced temporarily before he snapped out of it and realized this was not one of his sick and twisted dreams.

Oh and how he had dreamed. Night after night, waking up and having to palm his cock roughly just to get enough relief to go back to sleep, only to wake up the next morning and spend half his time in the shower fucking his fist and desperately wishing it were your tight little cunt.

This was real. He had you, completely naked, drooling and sopping wet, putty in his hands.

“Daddy is gonna make you feel so so good after your homework is done.” He smiled, dreamy and spaced out.

“Pull out my cock baby.” He encouraged, taking your wrists in each hand and helping you pull his pants and boxers down his thighs.

Anakin's cock sprang free from his pants, standing erect and proud before your wide eyes. It was thick and veiny, slightly curved upward towards his belly button.

“Ani…” You whimpered worried about what to do, how to properly do this, if you should do this. You wanted to, needed to. But should you?

“What’re you thinking doll?” Anakin asked, his hands on either side of you running his knuckles up and down your tummy soothingly.

“Am I gonna get in trouble?” You whispered.

“What?” He asked, in confusion. “Why would you get in trouble sweetheart?”

“Well, ‘cause of this…” You mumbled.

“Babydoll.” He cooed, his thumb and forefinger pinching your chin and tilting your head back so he could look directly in your eyes. “You won’t be in trouble. I’m your stepfather right?”

“Uh-huh.” You nodded.

“So that means I get to help make the rules around here doesn’t it?” He said soothingly, cupping your cheek.

“Yeah.” You nodded, a small smile beginning to form on your lips. You were beginning to see his reasoning and justification clearly.

“So it would be silly for you to get in trouble for something I said was okay wouldn’t it?” He smiled softly.

You giggled, nodding. Happy that he answered your question, amazed as always that he was so easily able to wash away your worries and concerns.

“There’s my little princess.” He cooed, rubbing his nose against yours. “Are you ready now?”

“Yes Ani.” You nodded with a smile, kneeling over his dick.

His large hand grabbing the base, holding his visibly throbbing cock steady as he slowly pushed the head against your tight entrance.

"Just relax, baby doll," He whispered in your ear, his other hand gripping your waist tightly to help guide you down his length. "Just breathe in and out slowly."

Your eyebrows furrowed as you put your arms around his neck and took comfort in the way he took control and made you feel safe even when you were so vulnerable in his arms. You were trusting him with a lot right now, the most intimate and sacred side of yourself.

“Anakin… oh gods.” You gasped in pain as he pushed in farther. He rolled his hips gently, popping your hymen, groaning when he felt that precious little thing snap.

“Shhh it’s okay, I won’t move anymore for now.” He held your hips firmly in place, allowing you to bury your face in his neck in an attempt to steady your breath as he did the same.

Your pussy involuntarily clenched around his cock as he shifted, making you wince in dull pain and Anakin grunt in pleasure at the constricting tightness.

"That's a good girl," He praised, his voice hoarse as he forced himself to maintain control. "You're doing great, just relax."

His hands moved down from your hips to squeeze and support your ass cheeks. Leaning in for a kiss, letting out a questioning hum as he ever so slowly started lowering you again. You nodded, letting him know it was okay despite the prickly sensation of tears forming in your eyes.

You focused on his tongue, on his hands, on the racing of his heart beneath your palm.

"Let me know if you need me stop, okay?" He broke the kiss to lovingly ask. “I don’t want to hurt you sweetheart.”

“I will Ani.” You promised, nodded vigorously as he slowly, steadily impaled you on his cock.

“Jesus.” Anakin whined, breathy and strained as he finally bottomed out. Buried to the hilt, feeling comforted in know that you would soon adjust to his size, and he wouldn’t be hurting your poor little weeping pussy anymore.

He hated to see you in pain, and knowing he was the cause was really, really killing him. It was inevitable of course. You were gonna end up speared on his dick sooner or later, and while he was thrilled that it was sooner, he just wishes he could’ve found a way to make it alittle easier on you.

“Be real still, just relax, get used to the feeling doll.” He cooed, soothing hands running up and down your spine.

“Yes Ani.” You whined, thankful for the chance to adjust to feeling so… full.

"Now, let's finish these final problems together, okay?" He said, his voice huskier than usual as he picked up the paper with the remaining equations. “Get your mind off the hurt okay?”

You held the notebook and kept working on one of the equations while Anakin latched on to your nipples and bit down gently.

“Ah!” You yelped, wincing as his bite made you jolt, your cunt squeezing his cock. “Anakin!”

He chuckled kissing your neck and massaging your ass cheeks. “Sorry baby.”

"You know, you're doing really well," he said, his voice full of satisfaction. "I'm impressed with how quickly you've learned it all. This is definitely going to be the way I help you study from now on." Anakin smiled, kissing you softly.

“Almost done.” You whined, scribbling frantically on the page. Trying your best to sit still.

“Baby.” Anakin growled. “Stop wiggling unless you want me to start training you to hold this big fucking cock in your tight little cunt all damn day.”

“Sorry daddy! Didn’t mean too!” You sniffled. “just feels so full, I need to move.” You whimpered, biting your lip.

You were getting impatient with waiting and sick of this stupid math homework and really, really, really impatient for Anakin to help you fuck yourself on his cock.

"Alright, alright." He chuckled, slowly lifting you a little before thrusting up in again.

You sat there, spread out wide on your step daddy’s massive cock. His callous fingers rubbing tight circles on your poor little clit as he fucked you so, so slowly to stop your wriggling and squirming.

“You’re a real good teacher Ani.” You moaned, finishing up the last equation and fighting the urge to moan and cum right then and there just from that tiny bit of relief. “All done.”

Anakin's eyes lit up at your words of praise, his cock twitching inside you in response.

"That's my good girl! So smart." He praised, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back in with more strength than before.

His hands gripped your ass firmly and lifted you up and down his cock until you got the hang of the movement. Slowly picking up the pace once you started a low string of moans that Anakin’s hungry mouth swallowed up in a kiss.

“Reach down and play with your clit while you bounce on my cock.” He ordered.

“yes daddy.” You squeaked in response, whining in relief as you started circling your neglected clit.

“That's it, baby girl." Anakin groaned, his hips moving faster as you found your rhythm.

"You're so fucking good at this.” He praised, his head falling back on the couch cushion.

As you got more confident in your movements he started to meet you halfway with his own thrusts, his cock hitting your G-spot relentlessly, you could feel your orgasm building up rapidly. Your moans turned into high-pitched whimpers of pleasure, your nails digging into his shoulders that you gripped tightly for balance.

“I knew you’d be good,” He moaned. “your body is made for me, it’s perfect. So fuckin’ perfect.”

“Y-yeah daddy.” You whispered on the verge of orgasm. “M’feeling something.”

“Fuck. Th-that’s right doll, I told you I’d make you feel good didn’t I?” He moaned, his voice dark with possessiveness.

Anakin growled low in his throat, his grip on your asscheeks tightening almost painfully. He bit down hard on your neck, leaving a mark as evidence of your sinful affair.

"You're about to cum. That’s what that feeling is darlin’ don’t fight it, just let go." He panted between erratic thrusts, his breath hot against your throat. “Once I make you cum it means you’re mine and mine only. Do you want that?”

“Yes daddy.” You agreed, slurring your words as your body tensed up. “I wanna be only yours.” You were practically drooling as you came violently around his cock, flooding his lap with your juices.

Anakin groaned loudly, his orgasm hitting him like a freight train. The intensity of the fact that he’d given you your first orgasm, that he’d properly and officially earned your virginity, made him feral. His cock twitched and pulsed inside you, releasing wave after wave of hot seed into your tight channel.

“God damn,” he hissed out. “such a good girl, letting me fuck this pretty little pussy full of my cum.”

You whined at his praise, grinding down on his cock when you felt the strange but good sensation of stickiness coat your walls.

"Fuck, baby doll." He panted heavily, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he rode out his own climax. "God you just made me cum s-so fuckin’ hard.”

He stilled his movements and yours to catch his breath, nuzzling your neck and holding you close as he whispered sweet nothings into your hair. He pulled back after a moment, looking down at your disheveled state, he grinned widely, licking his lips in satisfaction.

“Did I do good?” You asked with a wobbly lip. Feeling overwhelmed by your senses, overstimulated to the point of tears. “did I make you happy and proud daddy?”

“Oh, you did more than just make me happy and proud, baby girl." Anakin's eyes glittered with something dark, something… a little scary as he gazed down at you.

“You’re gonna make me a fine little baby momma too.” He growled, his hand reaching out to trace gentle circles on your stomach. “Aren’t you?”

Part Two (final part)

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#star wars anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #star wars #anakin x you #sw anakin #darth vader #darth vader smut #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin #darth vader x you #darth vader x reader #stepdad!anakin

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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months

Text

sounds like a date

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is sharing food' rated g | 743 words | no cw | tags: fluff, established relationship, flirting

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

"Can I have a fry?" Eddie asked with his mouth half full of the last fry he'd stolen off Steve's plate.

"Why didn't you just get your own fries?" Steve asked, handing him a fry from his plate.

"Because I only wanted a couple and you always share with me," Eddie shoved the fry into his mouth.

That was true; Steve always shared his food when they were having their usual date night at the diner. In fact, he pretty much only got fries because he knew Eddie would want some.

He preferred just eating his turkey club sandwich and smiling over at Eddie who always ordered two milkshakes because he could never decide on a flavor, a cheeseburger, onion rings that he complained were soggy every time, and a chef salad for balance.

Eddie never finished his food, or the milkshakes, but he always finished Steve's fries.

So it became an unspoken routine, something Steve wasn't even sure Eddie noticed even after months of doing it. Robin said he was a sap for doing it, but he didn't care.

"How's the chocolate shake?" Steve asked as Eddie dipped another stolen fry into it. "Good with the fries?"

"Yeah, but the strawberry is better. They didn't add extra chocolate syrup this time," Eddie half-pouted, as if he didn't complain about their lack of chocolate in the chocolate shake every time he ordered it.

"Can I have a sip of your Coke?" Eddie asked after another minute of stealing fries from Steve's plate.

Steve wordlessly handed his cup over, surprised it took him this long to ask for it. He usually asked way before he'd even started on the fries.

Eddie, as expected, took a few large sips, almost draining the rest of the drink.

"Why doesn't the waitress ever bring us napkins?" Eddie asked as he set the cup back down in front of Steve.

Steve handed him one of the napkins he'd grabbed from the table they passed on the way to their own. The waitress did always forget to bring them, so Steve prepared.

"You're so good to me," Eddie smirked, brushing his foot against Steve's ankle under the table.

Steve was pretty sure the waitress knew what was going on between them and just hadn't bothered to say anything, and the rest of the diner was empty. Their date night was pretty late, right after Eddie's Hellfire night with the kids that always seemed to go longer and longer. It was damn near midnight now, most of the town in bed, the rest up to no good somewhere else.

It was peaceful, being here with Eddie like this.

It was a look at a future they could have, at least a version of it, though neither of them planned on staying in Hawkins forever.

Steve slid his plate of the few remaining fries over to Eddie and wiped his hands on his napkin. "Finish 'em. I'm done."

"You didn't even eat any," Eddie pointed out before grabbing another one.

"Wasn't that hungry, I guess."

"Mhm," Eddie smirked knowingly, but didn't comment further.

"All set for the bill?" The waitress came by to ask, tapping her pen against the pad of paper. "Who gets it tonight?"

Eddie pointed at Steve, like he did every single week they did this.

Steve took the bill from her hand like he did every single week.

He pulled out his wallet, grabbed the $10 in cash he always kept there for date night, and handed it back to her.

Eddie waited until she walked away to pull out his wallet, grabbing $2 for a tip.

"You know at some point, you may have to actually pay for a date," Steve said as he slipped his jacket on.

"Maybe," Eddie shrugged, like he knew Steve loved paying for their date, made him feel like he could provide. Eddie joked it was his inner caveman. "Maybe I'll just take us on a nice road trip with all this money I'm savin'."

"Oh?" Steve froze.

Eddie looked back at him, beaming smile.

"Yeah. Next month sound good to you? A tour of diners across the midwest. Every night is date night. All my treat," Eddie suggested, like he'd already had this planned for a while. "I'd love to steal your fries in new places, Stevie."

Steve felt himself blushing, somehow always surprised at the lengths Eddie went to to make him feel so loved.

"Sounds like a date."

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #love is sharing food #fluff #established relationship #flirting

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femmeslash · 4 months

Text

the sinners visit a 24-hour convenience store

rodya was trying to unionize everyone in the pursuit of snacks and got pretty close (outis will NEVER acquiesce to such tomfoolery)

charon just pulls over anyway

she wants a slushie

verg isn't going to say no to charon

they're getting slushies.

fifteen people enter this convenience store all at once with the kind of dazed look you can only get upon seeing rows and rows of bright fluorescent lights and Products after being in a moving vehicle for 48 hours straight

faust just starts talking to the cashier, who is wholly unprepared to deal with [Insufferable, Chronic Lassitude]. she's just telling them information.

don quixote has never heard of an inside voice and she's not going to start now

BEHOLD, MINE COMRADES! I SHALL TAKE UPON THE CHALLENGE OF SAMPLING EACH FLAVOR OF SLUSH, AND REPORT MY FINDINGS!

she immediately gets brain freeze and is loud about that too

yi sang and hong lu are examining packaged snacks together

hong lu is reading off the ingredient labels and saying things like "oh, grandmother never allowed me to eat things that had artificial dyes in them!"

yi sang is just kinda there, concerned about hong lu's statements but too overwhelmed by the lights and colors to say anything of substance

ryoushuu is openly shoplifting

rodya gets her pile of snacks and then decides to bother gregor because she's bored again now

gregor is trying to buy cigarettes

greg babe look they got that delta 8 stuff! you wanna give it a try?

gregor is fully pretending he does not know her

he mouths "i'm sorry" to the cashier

outis is watching dante like a hawk

executive manager we must remain vigilant against threats to your person at all times, especially when the chance of an ambush against us seems low

dante has never been in a convenience store that they can remember...? but they're pretty sure outis is taking this a little too seriously

heathcliff is sizing up the hot food display

dunno what kind of madman would be too keen on eating these sad oily chips but scran's scran

he offers some to hong lu who has since wandered over

hong lu has never had chips/fries before and has no idea that you eat them with your hands

mistake.

it's a mess.

sinclair is waiting anxiously for his turn with the slushie machine as meursault methodically fills a huge cup with every single flavor they have

ishmael quickly got her preferred snacks and now is waiting passive-aggressively for everyone else to be done

the poor cashier has to come face to face with a fucking color fixer while this rodeo is occurring, because it's technically a company expense

vergilius saunters up to the counter to pay for all this crap, looking miserable and homicidal

charon got a cherry slush. red. same as verg. happy.

so it's not all bad.

it isn't until they've gotten back onto the bus and started driving that dante says <wait>

<where's yi sang?>

they find yi sang sitting in the parking lot, placidly eating a slushie of his own

the artificial watermelon flavor, cold and crisp underneath the moonlight... it has a certain charm.

ok grandpa let's get you to bed.

ryoushuu's haul includes three lighters, beef jerky, extra-strength headache medicine, root beer candy, and a large spider that was in the parking lot, which she is planning to release into faust's vicinity next time faust pisses her off

hong lu promptly gets sick from eating the disgusting fries.

#limbus company

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 2 months

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AU where Kara is still an assistant when Lena becomes CEO of CatCo. She makes some changes but one thing Cat tells her under no uncertain terms is that a) Kara stays, and b) she's destined to become a reporter when she's ready.

I'm going back and forth on whether Lena and Kara are friends at this point, or whether Lena simply takes on CatCo before they meet. But basically I want to see Kara having to a) build new connections to get Lena what she needs and b) learning what it's like to work for somebody who doesn't treat like dirt most days.

Like, imagine her standing dumbfounded the first time she brings Lena her coffee, because Lena simply thanks her, genuinely. And then the flush of pride when Lena comments in pleasant surprise when she discovers the coffee is perfectly warm-- not hot enough to scald, but not the usual tepidness of coffee thats had to travel three blocks to get to her.

Because Cat always took those little efforts for granted, as an expectation. But Lena smiles slyly as she regards Kara anew, and says "I think we're going to work together just fine."

Because Kara worked for Cat, not with her. And that small semantic means the world. Because its true-- Cat, and now Lena, wouldn't be able to do what she does without Kara doing what she does.

And that just makes Kara want to work all the harder. She finds she WANTS to stay late when Lena does, mostly because Lena urges her to go home, and that kind of kindness is the kind that's paid back by staunchly ignoring her and sticking around anyway. And she takes extra effort to learn all of Lena's preferences and idiosyncracies, so that she knows exactly what Lena needs when she's had a meeting with that particular board member she's outwardly civil to but clearly loathes.

The first and only time Kara brings Lena salmon for lunch, she's absolutely devastated when Lena looks at it, shoulders falling. "I forgot to tell you I can't stand salmon," she says, resignedly.

Kara's eyes go wide in horror. "Oh! No, that's okay, I'll just go--"

"Please don't bother, it's my fault, I never told you--"

"It's no problem at all. Just-- wait here okay?"

As if Lena would be anywhere but her desk. But in ten minutes, Kara returns with a greasy paper sack.

"I promise, this isn't a punishment for needing something last minute," Kara says quickly. "These are legitimately the best burgers in the city, and honestly, it's the greatest gift I could ever give you."

Okay. Maybe she's laying it on a little thick. But Lena only looks at her with a bemused smile. "All right," she slowly agrees. Her eyebrow quirks. "I'm assuming you picked up something similar for yourself?"

Kara blushes. "Yeah. Can't help myself."

"Good. Then you can eat with me."

Freezing, Kara feels like a deer in the headlights. For all that Lena has treatedher as an equal, they've never eaten together in the same room. They usually eat at their own desks, working through.

"Really?"

"Really." Lena's gaze turns artificially solemn. "If I'm going to have a self-induced heart attack, I better have someone there to call 911."

Unable to keep herself from grinning, Kara scuttles to retrieve her own burger and fries from her desk. And there, together, they share the first of many, many meals to come.

#supercorp #assistant au #kara as lenas assistant #just friends #but if they do get romantic it would be after kara moves on from catco #ill probably post an update for it at some point

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tarjapearce · 6 months

Note

I'm just minding my own business, eating a nice hot Italian sausage sandwich, and my brain decided to do the naughty thinking

Imagine Miguel all pent up cause he hasn't been home cause our big man's a workaholic, and when he is home he's dead tired or you're busy too for whatever reason. You two finally get to sit down and have dinner for a little date night, he's just finally relaxing and ready to dig into the delicious meal you two made together, and the poor poor man looks up just in time to see your lips wrapped around a sausage or any other suggestive food item., and his brain just fries.

I never understood the food leading to dirty thoughts thing until one of my exes straight up forbid me from getting ice cream cones or popsicles on dates and he had to explain it. Now I just find it hilarious

Oh nonny, 🤭

Mild nsfw undercut. suggestive, Dirty minded Miguel ~

It didn't matter how heavy his shoulders felt like or how hefty they slumped, exhausted as he was, knowing you awaited him with welcoming arms was his reward after an extra busy day at HQ.

The Boss would find himself lost in your loving embrace, replenishing his energies with that gesture alone.

"Welcome home, Miggy"

Your voice was like a lullaby after the countless screams, barking orders to recruits that seemed to be slacking and so many complaints about the little malfunctions of his gizmo. But now, he was home with you, ready to prepare dinner.

Being a leader was exhausting, and when he was exhausted, he'd be hungry. Mostly of the times he'd be starving for you. Either just physical comfort like showering him in affection, playing with his hair or even letting him snuggle you on the bed or couch, whichever he plopped on first.

But other times it was the hunger for having you a trembling and breathless mess underneath him, mewling his name and pleading for more of him.

He chopped his share of vegetables as you cooked other things next to him. The little chat about his day turned into little playful bites on his arm, trying to light his mood up.

"Go sit down, I'll serve. You're tired."

"I'm okay, corazón."

You slapped his butt gently and smooched him, "None of that. You always work hard. Lemme spoil you, ok? Go sit."

Knowing that arguing with you was futile, he went to his seat and you served him one of his favorite comfort foods.

Huevos rancheros, some chile con queso and some spicy sausages. The way his lips burned at the spicy food was one of your preferred faces he made whenever eating along a tall glass of lemonade.

He dug right in after you sat next to him, devouring his food like he hadn't eaten in a long time, and knowing him, he probably hadn't have a nutritious meal in the past days. He groaned in delight at your seasoning.

"You'll choke, sweetheart. Do you want more?"

"I'll get it, it's ok."

He was about to stand up when his eyes darted towards you and your lips. Pouty and kissable lips perfectly molded in the round shape of the sausage. His Adam's apple bobbed as you bit down gently on it, letting the taste invade your mouth with a satisfied groan.

Some of the meats juices scurried away in the corner of your lips, one of your fingers dabbed away the little droplets before sucking it off your finger. His brain was entering an override. Lips parted as you took another bite, a little groan rumbled at the base of his throat as his eyes fixed on the degluting motion of your throat.

Just the way it moved when he slid in and out of your mouth, using your warm crevice in a more creative and delicious way. Your tongue peeked to lick your bottom lip, cleaning the saucy mix off it to then release it with an inaudible pop.

"You okay?" Big, round bunny eyes stared at him innocently.

"Yeah..." He tore his eyes away from you. Cause he knew that if he kept staring, he'd just throw you over his shoulder and take you to the bedroom where he'd make a trembling mess out of you. Tiredness slowly abandoned his body.

How could such mundane thing had turned his gears this way was beyond him.

"So good" You mumbled at the taste of the sauce he had done. His cock twitched almost involuntarily. Oh how he remembered the other intonations of such phrase, specially when he buried himself deep enough in your tight and moist walls.

"Miguel?"

His hands slicked his hair back, trying to placate his thoughts.

"Si?"

"Do you want more?"

He'd always want more, that wasn't even a question. Would it be too selfish to just rip your clothes off and bend you over the kitchen and raw you silly until your legs gave out?

Focus

But how could he when you were slurping the sausage off? Was it intentional? No. You were just hungry and he was definitely being dirty minded.

"You sure?"

"I'm fine, amor."

Lies. He wasn't fine and his cock certainly wasn't fine either, as it grew painfully tight in his sweatpants.

"Oh, you have something in your lips"

You'd dab away the sauce off him, to then lick it off.

Dios mío...

He stood gently to then pry the dishes away from your hands and threw you over his shoulder. It had been the last straw

"M-Miguel!" You giggled as he marched towards the bedroom. Exhaustion abandoning him completely.

Yeah, he'd be always hungry for something more.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #t writes✨#miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara x y/n #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 fanfiction #atsv fanfiction #suggestive

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squid--inc · 2 years

Text

I'm gonna rant in the tags. don't reblog, I'm venting

#tw rant #why tf does my manager have to do this shit to me?#so‚ previously‚ I was available sun through thurs (I need 2 days off at least for chores and relaxation‚ burnt myself out-#doing worse before) and because they rarely scheduled me sunday‚ it meant I got a 3 day weekend-#which wasn't necessary but nice‚ and I prefer it over what I have now.#ask manager about needing more hours (they tend to give 4 hr shifts for each day available‚ ask later if you want 8 hr that day)#he says 'if you were available mon-fri you could get more' so I swap availability‚ and what happen?#i have the same hours but now the 3 day off is a random time of the week #And I don't know about other people‚ but that random day off gives me a chance to feel all the exhaustion but get none of the rest #so I go through the rest of the week extra tired‚ making the same amount of money as before.#I'm pissed about it‚ and I know its a weird and whiney thing‚ but why the fuck tell me I'd get more hours if-#I'm working THE EXACT SAME FUCKING HOURS?????#I need a need job‚ but I've been here so long that I likely can't find anywheres that pays as well with my skills #unless I actually figure out how tf to set up commissions where people can't see my real name attached to my p@yp@l #(I want to note: I'm less tired end of week doing 2 days off‚ working five days in a row than I am doing 1-2 days‚ day off‚ 2-3 days on)#(IDK my brain works shit)

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theostrophywife · 6 months

Text

kiss with a fist | chapter seven.

masterlist 💋 chapters 💋 playlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: it's nice to have a friend by taylor swift.

author's note: more fluff, more banter. this chapter is just self indulgent cuteness.

Being friends with Theodore Nott was strange.

Though you still bickered and bantered, the undertone of your interactions were less hostile and more suggestive in nature. Theo had always been a flirt, but you never realized how good he was at it until your usual response of irritation sharpened into something else. It didn’t help that his presence around you had become more constant now that Luna and Pansy made things official.

“They’re sickeningly adorable,” Theo said as he slid into the bench next to you. “I’m fighting the urge to retch.”

You glanced up to find Pansy and Luna huddled close together, whispering and giggling at one another. “Oh, absolutely vile. No one should be subjected to their shameless canoodling this early in the morning.”

Theo poked your thermos with a piece of french toast. “Just like you shouldn’t subject yourself to that sorry excuse of a coffee flavor.”

You took an exaggerated swig and smiled. “The pumpkin spice is here to stay. You’re free to leave if you don’t like it, Theo.”

His eyes glittered with mischief. “Hmm, maybe I didn’t get a good enough taste last time. I think I’ll try again.”

“Don’t you dare, Theodore,” you warned, cradling your thermos protectively.

“Is it Theodore now?” He asked, raising a brow. “And here I thought I’d earned first name privileges out of that pretty mouth. Amongst other things.”

“Yeah, well, you seem to like abusing the privilege so maybe I should start cutting back on my generosity.”

“I think you’ll find that I’m equally as generous, if not more.” His smirk grew when he noticed you growing flustered. “I’d be happy to demonstrate, Y/N. In a broom closet. In an empty classroom. In either one of our dorms. Hell, even in the middle of this damned hall if you asked.”

“Tempting,” you said sarcastically as you attempted to hide the tinge of red that had crept up your neck behind a curtain of hair. “Sadly, getting expelled for exhibitionism isn’t really on my to do list.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Suit yourself. Just know that I have no qualms on getting on my knees for you, diavolina.”

You nearly choked on your coffee while Theo smiled innocently.

“Oi! Am I losing it or is this bacon burnt to a crisp?” Mattheo exclaimed as he obnoxiously plopped down next to you.

Enzo sat across from him and took a bite out of his toast. “You did ask for it to be extra fried.”

“I asked for it to be fried, not charred.”

Theo sighed. “What are you two tossers on about now?”

Malfoy appeared out of nowhere and took the spot beside his cousin. “Riddle’s convinced that the house elves are out to get him.”

“They are out to get me! Look at this monstrosity.”

“Yes, I’m sure Winky’s actively planning your demise,” responded Blaise with an eye roll. “You’ve officially lost the plot, mate.”

You blinked, utterly bewildered at how and when you’d adopted the four Slytherins into your circle. Across the table, Pansy frowned in disapproval. Her little bubble of bliss had been abruptly popped by the presence of the boys.

“You lot are scaring our poor Ravenclaw friends.”

Berkshire gave you a sheepish smile. “Sorry, girls. We’re sort of a package deal. When you date one of us, you date the whole lot.”

“Oh, joy,” you deadpanned. “I’ve always wanted to be in a polyamorous relationship.”

Mattheo smirked. “We are quite good at sharing. Aren’t we, boys?”

You wrinkled your nose in disgust. “On second thought, I think I’d prefer dying alone.”

“For Salazar’s sake, you’re even meaner than Pansy,” he muttered at his blackened bacon.

You smiled sweetly. “Aw, is someone a little grumpy because they got served ash for breakfast? Poor little Riddle.”

Malfoy snorted. “I wouldn’t mess with her, Mattheo. You know she almost pushed Vane off the bleachers the other day.”

“I did not!”

Theo chuckled. “Yeah, but you wanted to.”

You bit back a smile. “Maybe a little.”

“Everyone is talking about the dressing down you gave her,” Enzo said. “You’re kind of a badass, Y/N.”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “More badass than you boys will ever be. Now stop pestering the poor girl and let her eat breakfast in peace.”

Despite the rough start, the rest of the meal was actually quite enjoyable. The Slytherins fought and argued like siblings, but you could tell that they all cared deeply for one another. No matter how much they teased and taunted each other, the boys were like rowdy brothers and Pansy, their elder sister and glue of the family. They all seemed to defer to the fearsome witch and you couldn’t blame them.

Parkinson was terrifying, but in the most amusing way.

As you wrapped up the morning, Pansy turned and the boys immediately fell silent. “Don’t forget our trip to Hogsmeade at the end of the week. You’re invited too, Y/N.”

“I have to stu—”

Pansy held her palm up. “Don’t bother. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Mattheo snickered. “What’s the matter, Y/N? Are you and Notty boy too busy eating each other’s gel—”

“Finish that sentence and I will impale you with my fork.”

Malfoy smirked. “Please do, Y/N. I’d like front row tickets to the show.”

“In that case, it’ll be a hundred galleons. A bargain, considering how deep those pockets are, Malfoy.”

“Violence and extortion?” Blaise asked with a sly smile. “I can see why young Theodore is enamored with you, Y/N.”

Theo rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Zabini.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “You’re all honestly giving me a migraine. Parkinson, seeing as you’ve given me no choice, count me in for Hogsmeade. Loons, I’ll see you back at our dorm. To the rest of you, please do consider a refresher on manners. Except for you, Berkshire. You’re a sweetheart. No idea why you’re friends with this lot.”

Enzo blushed to the tips of his ears. The rest of the boys protested, but you were already halfway through the Great Hall to entertain their complaints.

“Enzo’s a sweetheart, is he?” Theo asked, smoothly matching your stride as you walked across the sunny courtyard.

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, Nott.”

He gasped, clutching his heart. “First Theodore, now Nott? You wound me, Y/N.”

The crisp autumn air filled your lungs as you and Theo sauntered through the castle grounds. “Following me now? Zabini was right. You are enamored with me.”

“Oh, absolutely enthralled, darling. You have bewitched me—mind, body, and soul.”

“You did not just quote Jane Austen to me.”

“I saw your tattered copy of Pride and Prejudice,” Theo said with a smirk. “I imagine quoting Mr. Darcy is a bit like foreplay to you.”

“Foreplay implies that you’re going to get lucky, which you’re not.”

“Is that why you’re leading me into a secluded forest?”

“I’m not leading you anywhere. You’re choosing to follow me. Stalking is the more accurate descriptor.”

“Maybe I’m curious as to why you’re going into the Forbidden Forest by yourself. Don’t tell me you’re meeting a handsome Mr. Darcy type out here.”

“Close. I’m here to meet Henry.”

Theo paused, furrowing his brows. “Who in the bloody hell is Henry?”

“You’ll see.”

The forest thickened and the unmistakable crunch of the freshly fallen leaves echoed in the clearing as you trotted on them with your boots. You stood underneath a towering oak tree whose gnarled roots choked the damp earth underneath your feet. As loud as you could manage, you placed two fingers in your mouth and whistled.

Beyond the tree line, a soft rustling emerged. You turned and found Henry galloping towards you. The thestral was barely a few weeks old, small and spindly with milky eyes and a sharp snout. He flapped his bat-like wings shyly as you knelt to the earth. You patted between his horns and smiled at the baby thestral.

“Theo, meet Henry.”

Theo crouched beside you. “Hello, Henry.”

The foal peered curiously at Theo. Henry glanced up as you gave him a reassuring nod.

“You can pet him, if you’d like. He’s fond of ear scratches and belly rubs.”

Theo looked unsure for a moment before gently scratching behind Henry’s ear. The baby thestral cooed and melted into his touch.

“Here, you can help me feed him too.”

You pulled out a sack of treats and handed some to Theo. “Henry’s quite young, so he’s not able to hunt for himself yet. Hagrid said that these treats will keep him healthy and fed until he gets his bearings.”

“I didn’t know that they could be this small. I just always assumed that all thestrals emerged as full adults.”

“Most of them are. The birth of a thestral is actually quite rare. This one here is the first baby born in over a decade.”

Theo nodded as Henry happily devoured the treats. There was a small smile on his face as the small horse nuzzled its snout into his palm. “I didn’t realize that you could see them too.”

“Yeah, after the war I’m able to see them as clear as day.” You scratched underneath Henry’s chin. “I suppose most of the school can, too. I think they look at the thestrals and see the loss of innocence. The price of war. The death and carnage. But when I see this little guy, I’m reminded of all the sacrifices that others have made so that I could be here. Henry symbolizes a new beginning. It’s not always pretty, but it’s real.”

The foal cooed as he basked in attention and affection. You and Theo played with him for a few minutes, giving him scratches after he diligently finished the last of his food. The thestral whinied in thanks before heading beyond the trees again. Henry flapped his wings happily, stirring the autumn leaves below him as he skittered off.

“Will he be alright?” Theo asked.

“He’s got his mum. She’ll look after him.”

Theo smiled a bit. “I suppose she will.”

The two of you walked back towards the castle in comfortable silence. In the past few weeks, Hogwarts had been suspended between autumn and winter. The air was tinged with chill and frost, but the first snowfall of the season was late in its arrival and you couldn’t wait for the day when snow covered the castle grounds again.

You had always adored snow. One of your earliest memories was waking up on Christmas morning to find London covered in a glittering blanket of white. You always considered that moment as your first real glimpse of magic. Especially after you and your mum spent the entire day making snow angels in the front yard while your father snapped pictures.

“What was your mum like, Theo?” you asked, your breath forming a cloud in front of you.

Theo slipped his hands in his pockets. “Beautiful. Smart. Funny. That’s what I remember most about her. She had a wicked sense of humor. We used to pull all sorts of pranks on each other when I was little.” He grinned as he recalled a memory. “She rigged my very first broom to make farting sounds every time I flew. Malfoy laughed so hard he tumbled into a bush.”

“That must have been fun growing up.”

“It was. Mum was a lot of fun, but she could be strict too. I swear I knew all of the basic spells and wand movements before I even stepped foot in school. She said I had to ace my studies at Hogwarts if I wanted to get into Cambridge.”

You smiled. “What was her favorite subject?”

“Most would guess potions, but it was actually a close tie with transfiguration. Mum once turned Goyle’s dad’s sock into a snake after he made fun of her haircut in fifth year. Professor McGonagall still brings it up to this day. Says mum was one of her best students.”

“I bet,” you said with a chuckle. “Now I know where you get all your mischievousness from.”

“My nonna always said that raising me was like raising her all over again. I swear, the old bat holds herself back from calling me Vittoria half of the time.”

“Is that your mum’s name? Vittoria?” Theo nodded. “It’s very pretty.”

“It means victory. My family is very intentional with names.”

“What does Theodore mean?”

“Divine gift.”

“It seems fitting for someone who generally acts like they’re a gift from above.”

Theo rolled his eyes fondly. His expression turned serious as you rounded through the Black Lake. “For years, mum tried and failed to get pregnant. Her health was already precarious to begin with and the healers told her that having children would be difficult. When she discovered that she was pregnant with me, mum called me her little miracle.”

“That’s so sweet.”

“I’m not sure how much of a miracle I turned out to be though. After she had me, mum’s health declined. She was bedridden a lot of the time until she passed. My father always said that she might’ve lived longer had I not been born.”

His jaw clenched. You were aware that Theo didn't have the best relationship with his father. The elder Nott had always seemed cold and standoffish the few times you'd glimpsed him on the platform with Theo. By their stiff interactions, it was easy to surmise that they weren't very close. Whatever obligatory ties they might've had was swiftly severed after Theo testified against his father after the war.

Despite the fact that he was locked far away in Azkaban, you hated that Mr. Nott still had the power to hurt his son. Even if it was just cruel words from the past.

"I'm glad you were." You bumped him with your hip. “What a dreary world it would’ve been without you, Theodore Nott.”

Theo bumped you back, catching you around the waist. “What about you? What are your mum and dad like?”

“My dad’s a conductor for the philharmonic, but he was a musician years before that. He can play pretty much every instrument. My mum’s a barrister. I used to put on her wig and robes and pretend that I was defending a case like I’d seen her do at court.”

“That explains a lot,” Theo mused thoughtfully. “The angry piano playing. The constant arguing. I feel like I’m truly getting a full picture of you, Y/N.” You stuck your tongue out rather petulantly, which only made Theo chuckle. “What about siblings?”

You shook your head. “I’m an only child.”

“So am I,” he said. “Though I never truly felt like it. I have an exorbitant amount of cousins. The Marchesis reproduce like rabbits, but it made for a fun childhood. Plus, there’s Pansy and the boys who are pretty much my family at this point. We’ve all known each other since birth.”

“That must’ve been nice. All my cousins were significantly older, so I was never really around children my age until I came here. All the other muggle kids thought I was too serious and grown up and I thought they were all childish and quite stupid.”

“That doesn’t surprise me one bit.” Theo draped his arm over your shoulder, ruffling your hair. “Did you ever get lonely?”

“No. My parents were my best friends, as lame as that sounds.”

“I don’t think it sounds lame at all.”

You grinned. “Besides them, Luna was the first friend I ever made. Now, she’s more like a sister to me and I feel rather protective of her.”

“Pansy told me you interrogated her about her intentions.”

You shrugged. “Just covering my bases.”

“You know, Pansy’s mum and my mum were friends back then. She was overprotective of her friends too.”

“Sounds like my kind of witch.”

A faint smile bloomed on Theo’s face. “It’s nice to be able to talk about her.”

“That’s what friends are for, Theo.”

He stopped at the edge of the lake. Theo towered over you, nearly covering your small frame from view. He brushed his knuckles against your jaw, studying you thoughtfully. “Is that what we are, amorina? Friends?”

You tilted your chin up and met his gaze head on. “Yes. Is that a problem?”

“Not at all. I’ll be whatever you want, Y/N,” Theo said as he traced your bottom lip with his thumb. “As long as I get to do this.”

Theo closed the gap between you and your breath stalled as his arm snaked around your waist. He pulled you flush against him, his mouth inches away from your own. Theo studied you for a moment, taking in your flushed cheeks and dilated pupils before pressing his lips against yours. A tingling sensation set your body alight as he kissed you with a burning devotion reserved for the most ardent zealot.

The kiss was a prayer, an alm, a petition to the divine, but the words were in a language that you couldn’t understand.

His eyes burned like a funeral pyre and you felt the heat of it brush against your very core. Theo brushed his thumb against your cheek, his voice as rough and calloused as his touch.

“Sono pazzo di te.”

“I’m afraid that’s beyond my grasp of the Italian language. What did you say, Theo?”

Theo smiled. “I said I’ll race you to Charms!”

Before he even finished the sentence, Theo took off running. You yelled after him, cheeks red and hair streaming behind you as you chased him up the steps. You were out of breath and panting and very aware of how ridiculous you looked, but it was also the hardest you’ve ever laughed in your life.

The formal invitation to Professor Slughorn’s dinner came on the same day of the Hogsmeade trip. Up until then, you had successfully put the whole thing out of your mind, but the letter in your hand pushed it back to the forefront. By the time the last class rolled around, it was all you could think about.

Luna could tell that you were distracted as you walked through the castle halls. “Are you still thinking about the dinner?” she asked.

You sighed. “Honestly, I’ve put it out of my mind for this long, but I know I can’t keep avoiding it.”

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“A year ago, it wouldn’t have even been a choice. I would’ve jumped at the chance to attend, but now…”

“Things have changed,” Luna said.

“It isn’t fair, Loons. After the war, I thought things would get better, but there’s still so much shit to dredge through.”

“There’s always going to be shit to dredge through, Y/N. The good news is that you have people to tackle it with.”

“I think the people make it harder.”

“Because you care,” she said with a smile. “You don’t have to lead with your head all the time, you know. Sometimes it’s okay to let your heart call the shots.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “I feel like I’m in one of these cheesy muggle soap operas. What choice will Y/N make today?”

“Whatever you choose, I will support you. I already spoke with Harry and told him to keep an eye on you should you choose to go.”

“Did Theo put you up to this?”

She shook her head. “We’ve had…conversations about it. I’m perfectly aware that Theo has strong opinions on the matter, but Pans and I would be glad to give him a stern talking to on your behalf.”

“I appreciate it, Loons. You know, I wasn’t sure about Parkinson at first, but I think she’s quite good for you. Terrifying, but good.”

You truly meant it. Over the past few weeks, you had gotten to know Pansy and the rest of the Slytherin gang quite well. Mostly because they seemed to follow Parkinson around like lost puppies, which was amusing in and of itself. Regardless, you had grown fond of the little terrors.

“My girlfriend in a nutshell.” Luna’s serene smile turned serious as she touched your arm. “I know I’ve been busy with Pans lately, but I want you to know that I’m always here for you, Y/N. You know you can talk to me about anything.”

You smiled and squeezed her hand. “I know, Loons. You’re a great friend. Even though you adopted five bumbling idiots without my consent.”

She chuckled. “Oh, I only brought four into the fold. One of them was already yours to begin with.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Speaking of which, what is the situation between you and Theodore? Pans will not stop pestering me about it.”

“We’re…friends.”

“Friends who sneak into each other’s dorms at all hours of the night, take strolls together in the Forbidden Forest, and stargaze at the Astronomy Tower. That kind of friend?”

You flushed. “It’s complicated.”

“I’m not judging,” Luna declared. “I happen to think that you two are adorable together.”

“Who’s adorable together?” asked the obnoxious voice of none other than Mattheo Riddle.

The boys were huddled by the castle entrance, dressed in comfortable layers. The last week of October had brought chill and frost, but snow had yet to make an appearance.

“You and the sound of silence,” you retorted with a smile.

Theo, Blaise, and Draco tried and failed to suppress their laughter. Enzo bit back a smile, which fooled absolutely no one. Pansy just sighed exasperatedly.

“Do you see?” Mattheo cried. “She’s always so mean to me.”

Theo draped an arm over your shoulder. He was dressed in a green and silver striped sweater with a pair of casual jeans and slightly scuffed trainers. The ensemble resembled something that the boys back home might’ve worn, but for some reason it looked a thousand times better on Theo.

“Don’t worry, mate. She’s mean to everyone.”

“Not to me,” Enzo said proudly.

You grinned. Out of all the boys, you admittedly had a soft spot for Berkshire. He always had a stash of treats from Honeydukes to share during your study sessions and was just genuinely nice to everyone no matter what house they were in.

“Obviously Enzo’s my favorite.”

“That’s not fair,” Draco complained. “He bribes you with fudge.”

“Better step it up then, Malfoy.”

“Honestly, I’m offended,” Blaise said rather dramatically. “I shared my expensive face creams with you, Y/N. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

“And it was a very special night, Zabini. But you can’t beat chocolate.”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Let’s go before you lot derail this whole trip with your madness.”

“Coming, mum,” you said brightly.

Parkinson glared at you, but it was short-lived given Luna’s giggle. The blonde took Pansy by the hand and your comment was all but forgotten.

As always, the charming village of Hogsmeade was littered with your fellow students. High Street was decorated for All Hallow’s Eve, complete with enchanted pumpkins, floating cauldrons, and charmed skeletons that popped up to frighten the witches and wizards strolling through the busy shops.

The group entered Gladrags first. The boys, with the exception of Draco and Blaise, immediately occupied the benches towards the front of the clothing store. You took advantage of the peace and quiet and perused the rows and rows of rich robes, quirky hats, and crazy patterned socks. Though you preferred the simplicity of muggle clothing, you had to admit that the wizarding world offered some interesting choices in attire.

After half an hour, your group walked out with nearly half the store. The Slytherins took the phrase ‘shop until you drop’ into a whole other level. The purchases that Pansy, Blaise, and Draco were so heavy that it had to be carted off back to the castle.

You visited Dervish and Banges in which the boys spent an exorbitant amount of galleons on quidditch equipment. The group then made its way to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes where Mattheo almost lost a finger faffing around with a nose-biting teacup. Draco and Blaise stayed behind to wait for Mattheo and Enzo to ensure that they made it to dinner with all of their appendages intact, while Pansy and Luna popped into Madam Puddifoot’s for some chamomile tea, leaving you and Theo to explore Scrivenshaft’s on your own.

“You didn’t have to come with,” you said as you examined the new stock of stationary. “I’m sure watching the Weasley twins hustle Riddle out of his money is much more entertaining than looking at boring old quills.”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind. Besides, Mattheo’s a big boy. He can handle himself.”

You snorted as you picked up a quick writing quill. “Oh, I don’t know. Riddle might need his knight in shining armor to rescue him from those villainous redheads.”

Theo smirked. “You think I’m a knight in shining armor?”

“Hmmm…” you cocked your head and examined him. “You’re more like the sarcastic sidekick, I think.”

“I’ll remember that, Y/N.”

“Add it to the list,” you said with a sly smile. “I’m sure you’ve got a running tally on the countless times I’ve bruised your fragile ego.”

Theo clutched his heart. “Mattheo’s right. You are mean.”

“Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.”

His lips curved up into a dangerous smirk. Theo leaned over you, bracing one arm against the shelf behind you to cage you in. “Oh, I do, but I enjoy fucking the attitude right out of you even more.” You swallowed thickly, backing into the bookshelf. Theo’s eyes flickered with amusement. “Not so feisty now, are we?”

You rolled your eyes and smacked him against his chest. “You’re an absolute pest, do you know that?”

“Add it to the list,” he responded cheekily.

The flirting and banter followed you all the way out of the stationary shop. You and Theo argued for ten minutes after he took the shopping bag out of your hands and carried it for you.

“I’m perfectly capable of toting my own things around, thank you very much.”

He shrugged. “A gentleman never lets a lady carry her own bags.”

“I wasn’t aware you were a gentleman.”

“Only when I want to be,” Theo said. “You should take advantage of it. You never know when it’ll happen again.”

You rolled your eyes, tugging at the bag in his hands. “Give me back my bag, Theodore.”

“Drop it or I’ll haul you over my shoulder and carry you around the village instead.”

“Fine, you win this round.”

Theo smiled triumphantly. “Y/N admitting defeat? This calls for a celebration. Honeydukes it is.”

The candy shop smelled as magnificent as it always did. Rows and rows of rainbow colored treats greeted you in every direction. You felt as giddy as you had in first year when the trolley of succulent-looking sweets passed through the aisles of the Hogwarts Express. You picked out your favorites—cauldron cakes, nougat chunks, and pumpkin pasties.

Though the shop was packed to the brim, you moved easily among the aisles as Theo cleared the way. He quirked a brow at the mountain of sweets cradled in your arms, but said nothing as you marched up to the register.

“Will that be all, miss?” asked the kindly shopkeeper.

“And a batch of your freshly made fudge,” Theo requested. “Put it on my tab, Mrs. Flume.”

“Of course. Anything for you, Theodore.”

The shopkeeper disappeared at the back of the shop to fetch the fudge. You nudged Theo with your elbow.

“I can’t let you pay for all of this,” you hissed sharply.

“Of course you can. I’m disgustingly rich, remember?”

“I know, but it wouldn’t be right.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “You’ve put up with my friends for weeks on end. Consider this as payment.”

“This more than makes up for the debt. It’s not even equal at this point.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Half of this is for my benefit. Can’t have Berkshire beating me for that number one spot, can I?”

You chuckled. “Are you trying to bribe me, Theo?”

“That depends. Is it working?”

The mouth-watering scent of freshly made fudge hit you as Mrs. Flume handed Theo a large pink bag. Bribe or not, Theo was definitely on his way to dethrone Enzo as your favorite.

“You’ll spoil your dinner,” Theo said as you popped a square of fudge into your mouth. The chocolate dissolved on your tongue as you released a sigh of satisfaction.

“What are you, the chocolate police?”

“What’s a police?”

“They’re like aurors, but without wands.”

“Well, one could argue that the amount of sweets you’re about to consume is a threat to public safety.”

“Would you rather I be a threat to your safety instead?”

“I’d say you’re already doing a rather excellent job of that.”

You stuck your tongue out, but Theo didn’t seem to notice as he looked behind you. The bell chimed softly as you exited Honeydukes only to walk right into a winter wonderland. The cobblestone streets were as crowded as ever, but many stalled in their path to look up at the flecks of white falling from the sky. A gentle breeze sent a scatter of snowflakes to pile up in the storefronts, decorating High Street with glitter and wonder.

The first snowfall of the season certainly did not disappoint. You ran out into the street, catching snowflakes on your tongue while laughing giddily. Theo watched with a small smile as you twirled around, your blue and gold scarf blurring while you spun and spun underneath the clear, blue sky.

“Easy there,” he said, catching you around the waist before you could slip on a patch of ice. “I’ve never seen anyone get this excited over a bit of snow.”

“It’s the first snowfall of the season!” you exclaimed. Theo chuckled as you dragged him out of the busy streets, weaving through shoppers and villagers alike. You didn’t stop until you reached the end of the village. “Come on, you have to see the view.”

At the edge of the small, sleepy village, you could see the blanket of snow covering Hogsmeade. It made everything glitter as the sun disappeared over the horizon. You felt so happy that your heart could burst.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Snow dotted his mop of curly brown hair, the glittering flakes catching in his long lashes as he stared down at you. “Yeah,” he murmured, releasing a cloudy breath. “The most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”

Theo’s gaze softened. He reached out and brushed the snowflakes off your bottom lip with his thumb. The nervous bob of his throat was so uncharacteristically earnest that you nearly did a double take.

“I want you to go to that dinner tomorrow night, Y/N.” His voice was soft and carried none of the argumentative tone that it usually did when you discussed Slughorn’s dinner. “I understand why you don’t want to and believe me, I wholeheartedly agree. But I’d never forgive myself if I stood in the way of the one thing you’ve been working for since first year.”

You sighed. “It’s not just you, Theo. It’s Pansy. Draco. Blaise. Enzo. Even Mattheo. I don’t want to support anything that alienates my—my…friends.”

Until this moment, you hadn’t realized how fond and protective you’ve grown for the Slytherins. Somewhere between quiet mornings sipping freshly brewed coffee with Pansy, game nights in Malfoy’s ridiculously huge dorm, studying with Enzo in the Great Hall, comparing skincare products and exchanging tips with Blaise, and even riling up Mattheo with your ridiculous arguments, the little group had stolen their way into your heart.

They were your friends and you would do anything for your friends.

“All of us think that you should go. After all, there’s nothing more Slytherin than turning something terrible into a golden opportunity. If you get that recommendation, you’d be the first muggleborn member of the M.E.S.P., so you have to go. Go and make your favorite serpents proud, Y/N.”

Warmth spread through your chest. You could tell that Theo felt strongly about this. That he truly and genuinely cared about what an opportunity like this meant for a muggleborn witch like yourself.

You found yourself nodding after a moment. “Fine, I’ll go but you have to let me eat another piece of fudge.”

Theo smiled and those charming dimples peeked out of each cheek. “Not a chance in hell, dolcezza.”

You groaned dramatically. “Is that all or are you going to start lecturing me on my irresponsible consumption of sweets again?”

Watercolor eyes flickered over you. “There is something else,” he said softly. “There’s something that I’ve been meaning to tell you, Y/N. I think you’ve already guessed by now but I—I think I’m—”

Before Theo could finish his sentence, a snowball hit him square in the chest. You yelped as a barrage of snow came raining down upon you. High up on the hill, Mattheo and Enzo skittered between the trees. Your would-be attackers laughed as they continued to hurl snowballs in your direction.

“You’re dead, mate!” Theo bellowed as he dragged you behind him. “You two are absolutely and positively dead.”

The two of you crouched behind a large rock. You peeked around the corner, trying to calculate your next steps. Pushing past whatever moment the boys had interrupted between you and Theo, you turned to your curly headed companion with a smile.

“I know that look,” Theo accused. “You have a plan, don’t you?”

“You still have those dung bombs from the twins?”

He nodded and handed over the array of goodies he purchased from the Weasleys. The plan came to fruition a few minutes later. Mattheo and Enzo were safe up on their high hill, but you and Theo were not about to let that deter you. He followed as you crept up the fortress, keeping guard as you palmed a snowball in your hand.

Mattheo spotted you first. He hurled snow at you, but you easily dodged his attack. When he left himself exposed, you flung the snowball with all your might. It hit him in the leg before exploding and drenching him with the stench of dung. Riddle nearly retched at the foul smell while Enzo doubled over in laughter.

Theo took advantage of the situation and hurled his own snowball at Enzo’s stomach. Within seconds, the stench worsened. The two boys threw their remaining snowballs on the ground and signaled their surrender.

“Dung bombs?” Riddle exclaimed as you came closer. “Nice touch, Notty boy.”

“Don’t look at me, mate. It was all Y/N.”

Mattheo’s eyes widened. Enzo burst into laughter. “Told you not to mess with her,” Berkshire said as he cast a scouring charm over the both of them.

“I’ve got to give it to you, Y/N.” Mattheo said with an impressed tone. “You’re more devious than I gave you credit for.”

“You have no idea what you just started, Riddle,” you declared with a triumphant smirk. “If i were you, I’d sleep with one eye open tonight.”

You flashed him the most evil smile you could muster before dusting yourself off and heading down the hill. The boys stared after you before following.

“I am genuinely afraid of her,” Mattheo murmured.

You didn’t have to turn around to know that Theo was smirking. “Now you know how I feel, mate.”

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#mattheo has such baby of the family energy and i love him for it #theo nott #theo nott fic #theo nott smut #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theo nott imagine #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott smut #theodore nott imagine

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diejager · 7 months

Note

We need more Dark!Captain Price please!!

Behave, Love

Pairing: Dark! Captain John Price x fem!reader

Cw: implied smut, DARK, IMPLIED NON-CON, possessive behaviour, kidnapping, kinda Stockholm syndrome, captive reader, mean Price, punishment, basement wife?, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 2.6k

“We have guests tonight, love,” he told you this morning before leaving.

That was a warning, the only one you needed to understand what you were told - ordered - to do. You spent the morning cleaning up, wiping off the nonexistent dust from the shelves, washing off the clean tables and surfaces around the house that you’d cleaned yesterday after he called to tell you that he was coming home. The following hours were spent vacuuming the wooden floor and mopping up any nano-spill of some kind. Only after the long hours you took to clean every speck of dust in your shared home, did you start cooking.

Price was a simple man in the things he liked, he might’ve been strategic in his plays and his decisions, down to the smallest aspects of each mission, or preferring his gun or knives maintained in a specific way that was his only, but anything at home, he liked simple. Perhaps it was a blessing for you, never spending time learning how to cook or bake, your training took up all your time and any free time you had was spent resting or on extra training. He liked well-rounded meals, having meat, vegetables and a bit of spice on his plate with rice or fries on the side.

You dread the moments he leaves as much as the giggle of the knob, leaving meant that he’d be watching you remotely, from the small screen of his phone with alarms and countermeasures against your escape - to which you’ve tried and failed many times, the severity of his punishment racking up from an hour in the dark basement to being tied up and tortured to overstimulation of a fake cock moulded to replicate Price’s cock - and his return would leave you at the mercy of his prying eyes and hungry mouth, letting his hands trace the scars that littered your skin. Any sign of disgust: shuddering, flinching or freezing would get you some time in the basement.

He pulled you from years of training, the result of your blood sweat and tears gone with the flick of Price’s wrist. He had you discharged and had you move in with him - how fortunate you’ve been living on base without an apartment outside of the compound, you saw no use for it if you’d rarely be home - even though you fought against him, tooth and nail. Yet that only landed you in time out - or so he called it.

“We’re going to get married, love,” he told you, a bright smile hidden under his beard, a wishful gleam in his eyes.

You weren’t only getting married, you were signing off your body and soul to your captor to become a glorified housewife. From a private to a housewife, how saddening, you couldn’t help that self-deprecating attitude rather than the confidence and strength that were beaten into you during training.

Any connection to the outside world was cut off, Price made sure that you wouldn’t have any way to contact your family without his supervision - he had you call them once a month to reassure them that you were safe and happy with your new life - or the authorities, not that they’d listen to you with The Captain John Price and his decorated background. Granted, you had a TV to entertain yourself in moments of boredom or the book-filled wall in the living room, even a few recreational activities he wanted you to practise: knitting, sewing, cooking and baking.

Naturally, you turned to cooking and baking as a way to pass the time, leaving the radio or the TV on as background noise to fill the depressing atmosphere. With time, you’d grown more comfortable in the kitchen and Price could trust you with more complicated dishes, even being excited to eat a homemade dinner when he came home. He liked meat, so you read about different meaty dishes - especially with the notion of the other coming over for the afternoon - with good portions of vegetables.

You moved around the island, setting the table with plates and cups, knives, spoons and forks on the sides with a bowl of fries in the middle. The steaks were almost done, sizzling besides the warm sauce you were boiling after cracking the can. The beans and mashed potato were already set on each plate, waiting for the juicy meat and sauce you worked on, hoping that you’d be finished on time for Price to get home. You hoped Price would be nicer to you while the men ate, nothing too rash or possessive from him during their stay.

The lock clicked as you placed the final piece, the rattle of keys and the familiar steps of Price’s heeled shoes were - unless you missed his soft “I’m home, love.” - the usual sounds you’d hear when he came home, the only indications that you were never truly able to relax.

“Welcome home, John,” you returned, greeting him with a small kiss on the corner of his lips, his bushy beard irritating your cheeks.

He leaned down, chasing you for a second, deeper kiss, his teeth catching your lower lip before he moved aside to let his coworkers enter.

“Ma’am,” Gaz jumped in, lowering his cap in a mock bow to you.

Being called ma’am made you feel old and married. While you were married, you were a year or two younger than him with him having an authority over you on base. You didn’t necessarily know him before your discharge, only catching a few glances when either of you were passing through the gym or shooting range, or when you crossed paths in the halls or mess hall. Perhaps in another universe, you would’ve been friends or teammates by chance. You swallowed down a sigh that threatened to slip from your pursed lips.

Soap followed closely behind Gaz with a boisterous greeting of his own, his smile infectious and giddy. How couldn’t you smile back at him when he seemed so happy to be here, you couldn’t bear to break his heart, his puppy-like joy. You shook his hands, they were as firm as the last time, his fingers more calloused and harder on the tips from the many deployments between their last visit. Ghost was a step behind everyone, giving you a quick but welcoming nod, his eyes softening at the dark bags under your eyes.

“Come in, I was just about finished.”

Without so much of a complaint, they sat down, watching you pour the brown sauce over their plate. Price - as always - sat at the head of the table, watching you and his team from his vantage point. Ghost sat to his left with Soap beside him and Gaz on the opposite from him, taking the seat to your right. The seat to Price’s right was always reserved to you whenever you were present, a rule he imposed himself. He could easily hold your hand while it rested on the table, he could sneakily place his firm hand on your thigh, or he could send you a quiet message through the corner of his eye, something so discreet that not even Ghost noticed.

Dinner with 141 was always animated, with Soap and Gaz throwing jabs at each other and Ghost jumping in with a few jokes of his own - though they were the usual dark and morbid humour that he thrived on - while Price watched over it all, a proud smile adorning his face as his thumb brushed your knuckles. You could see the fatherly joy in his eyes whenever everyone was at the table, this joy that almost made you happy that you were part of this small family - almost. You couldn’t forget the pain and harrowing sadness that clouded your mind every day, Price’s influence on your life becoming the looming shadow that kept you locked away from the freeing sun.

“It was tidy, bonnie!” Soap thanked you, collecting the plates while the rest helped around.

“Thank you, Johnny.”

While you washed the dishes, burly arms reached around your waist and locked fingers, pushing his chest to meet your back. He hummed a comforting tune, peppering your neck and shoulder with kisses, playing the loving and caring husband he was to the rest of the world. Laying his head on your shoulder, he was content with watching you work, ears listening to the chatter in the room and your beating heart, a calm and soft beat that soothed his nerves.

“A right delight,” Price breathed out, hips swaying side to side in a drawl dance, rocking you along with him.

He pressed his lips to your ear, mumbling praises for your behaviour and playing the husband he wanted to be - was. He was gentler with you, his strong arms holding you lovingly and expressing his devoted obsession with you with kisses and whispers. It was a side you saw often, Price being the ever-loving man he vowed to give you on the day of your marriage, the other one was the possessive and obsessive man who wanted your everything, your mind, body and soul. That side of him was given to you when you misbehaved, when you did something to displease him or when he deemed you worthy of punishment.

The other rarely saw their captain acting so soft and loving, even toward them, his little, ragtag of a team. Although it was something to be proud of, unendingly happy because at least one of them finally settled down, who were they if they couldn’t jab at Price, just a bit.

“Growing old, Cap’? You look like a romantic sap,” Gaz snickered, watching Price narrow his eyes in mocked anger through squinted eyes.

“Aye, I dinnae yer were a bodach,” Soap elbowed Gaz, failing to hold back his cackle, head tilted back and arms around his abdomen.

“English, Johnny.”

Price huffed, shoulders shaking with his own laughter.

“Oh, sod off,” he spat, lips stretched in a snarky smile. “Am I an old sap, love?”

He clung to you, hands slipping under the hem of your shirt

“ ‘Course not, John. Maybe romantic, but not old.”

Calling him old wouldn’t do him or you any good, especially since you were married to him, a man over a decade older than you; and calling him romantic would be a lie thrown to the face, at least to you. Price would call himself a romantic man and preen about his rugged, yet gentlemanly character, his hands calloused and loving, his mouth praising and biting, his eyes ravaging and devoted, his acts protective and possessive. How Price would proclaim himself as the perfect husband - he said he was the day he dropped you the discharge letter - and how lucky you were to wound yourself with him rather than any boy your age.

Price chuckled, his chest rumbling against your back as he tightened his hold around you. He liked your reply, that wide smile pressed to your throat with nipping kisses made you aware of his joy. You rocked back against him, dancing along the lazy sway of his hips, you were catering to his whims to stay safe and alive. His training wasn't for nothing, carved into the seams of your mind with every thrust of his cock or the silicone mimic of his cock. You learned quickly that if Jonathan Price was happy, you’d be safe and unharmed, so you aimed to please him and keep him happy.

If it meant playing the reciprocating and happily married wife to their captain, you’d do that. There wasn’t any loss of dignity and pride in wanting to feel safe, wanting to ignore how his hands gripped you too firmly or how your skin was littered with painful bruises after a rough night. To the Task Force, you were a willingly discharged soldier who became a housewife for their hardworking captain and your loving husband. The gold band carved with curved and intricate words added to the illusion of your perfect life.

It made you want to scream and pull your hair out at how trusting they were of Price. All and any man had his darkness, that ugly need buried under the mass of duty and morality that made them who they were, but if let loose, they could be like Price, another monster wearing the skin of a man.

You couldn’t help squinting your eyes in a silent plea to the men, watching them drink and laugh merrily without a fault. Being a witness to their bountiful smile and full-bellied laughter when you were glued to your captor by the hip, his arm looped around your waist, pulling you to him. Laying your head on his shoulder as the bottle of whiskey grew lighter and lighter over time, the golden liquid rolling down their throat with a comforting burn after a long week at work. The little glances Price sent your way were reminders for you to behave until the end, his fingers curling over a healing bruise from when he held you too tightly, pussydrunk with his head between your thighs.

You smiled and nodded, going along with whatever they were chatting about, from meaningless affairs to slightly classified subjects. Nothing was off the table with you, they trusted Price enough to trust you with sensitive subjects and they all liked you, someone who could relate to their cause and understand their pains. Perhaps that played a part in his obsession with you.

Even when they stood on your doorstep with slurred speech and hooded eyes, they were always aware of their situation and minds sharp, but they were blind to your plight. Gaz and Soap shook hands with Price, the darker Brit bowing to lift his cap in a familiar salute: “‘Night, ma’am.”

“Thanks fer the meal, bonnie.”

“It’s always a pleasure having you over, Johnny.”

Ghost waved at you from the driving seat, he drank less comparatively to the other men, being designated as the driver between them. You send him a tired grin with a wave of your own, still within Price’s grasp. You looked on beside him as Ghost drove off, returning to base with two drunken sergeants in his custody. With them gone and the door shut and locked - bolted down with keys and codes only he had access to - he pulled you to his chest, rumbling out praises with his deep, soothing voice.

“You were so good today, love,” he pressed his lips against yours, hand cupping your nape with a slow lave of his tongue to deepen the kiss. “I’m so proud of you.”

He dragged you away, feet hanging on your toes to follow his movement while letting him press for more kisses, growing passionate and stealing your breath. You clung to him, fingers clawing at his form-fitting shirt as you walked backwards, stepping into your shared room. He blindly kicked the door shut, throwing you to the bed with a rough push. He stared at you through lidded eyes, bouncing on the bed as you scrambled to get your footing before he straddled your hips between his thick thighs, rutting his covered hardness against your stomach.

His leaky head trapped under the tightness of his briefs and pants drenched his clothes, his chest rising with deep and laboured breaths. In the silence of your privacy, Price became handsy, wanting to grab and touch every part of you, cradling your face and wiping the drool on your lower lip with his thumb. He brought it to his mouth, sucking his thumb with lust-hazed eyes as he peered down at you. His brown hues were darker in the dim lighting, nearly black with lust and need as he grappled himself over you. He wore a crooked smile on his perfect lips.

“You deserve a reward for behaving so well, yeah?”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs

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the-anxious-stargazer · 9 months

Text

Like Honey || Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary: Although Sam have promised herself to not get too close to anyone outside her newfound family, she struggles when she meets a regular in the diner she worked at.

Words: 4.02k

Note: This is inspired from Halsey's song Honey! i'd recommend you guys listen to it while reading :) i'm slowly starting getting into horror bc i dont want to be a pussy no more and watch them for jenna and melissa (they are so hot omfg)

[Masterlist][Part 2]

・ ‥…━━━━━━━━━━♡♡♡━━━━━━━━━━…‥ ・

Sam promised herself that she'd focus on Tara and the gang first before learning to let new people in again in her life. That promise was made when they all moved to New York after the murders in Woodsboro. After Richie. A betrayal like that is a valid reason for her to be closed off and be suspicious of anyone her sister or her friends meet. The same could be said for Quinn, Ethan, Anika, and everyone else she had met when they were introduced to her. Sam did warm up to the three the longer they stayed. She felt a little more comfortable with them when her gut told her that maybe they were genuine people. But she still almost kept to herself. She almost didn't have any friends outside them other than Danny their neighbor next door.

Being the oldest and mother figure of the group meant she worked for her and Tara's share of rent and other needs. Even though their mother sends money for bills and such, Sam wanted to work still. Though she knew what she get weren't much it didn't hurt to start saving her own money. So she worked to keep herself busy but not too much to not acknowledge that she was suffering such a mental scar from the attacks. One of those jobs was in a diner a few blocks near them. It paid okay and the staff are kind but Sam rarely bothered to get too close to them. All she ever knew from them is that they were willing to offer a smile and small conversation.

Usually, she takes the morning shifts, other times she takes the graveyard ones. You can pretty much figure out which shift she preferred over the other.

The regulars were introduced to her on her first shift by Dale, the main cook. There was a couple, John and Amy, who was always on time in the morning and order eggs and toast only with two refills of drip. Rex is a sculptor who mostly sits in the corner and has a few sketches by the table with him, only ordering an omelet with ketchup. There's also a programmer named Adrian who gets a lot of coffee and a BLT at night. Sometimes his friend Ben joins in with fries. A young woman named Adelaide who works from home and is always on the phone while she ate her waffles and vanilla milkshake. Adelaide would go by the mornings if she wakes up early or comes by near the evening when she could.

Lastly, there was Y/N. Sam has figured before that she looked around the same age as her. Cate mentioned when she was teaching her around that she's been here way before her and she pretty much knew everyone in the diner. She was mostly in the morning with a few files in her hand. She's an assistant in an independent law firm. There were times that she came by night and read some of the files she had all the while taking a sip of her joe now and then, other moments she was taking notes for a case assignment that her boss told her to take a look for him. Sam always gets a warm greeting from her as she did with everyone else when she enters the diner and interacts with her whenever deemed necessary. She thought she was too nice to be true.

"You from New York?" Y/N asks her as Sam fills her mug and couldn't help but doubt for a second if she were going to be honest or not,

Y/N always had a keen eye. She liked watching everyone else and let the world work. That meant she liked observing the customers that enter the diner every now and then, noticing how John always drink his coffee slowly to match Amy's pace and always offers an extra toast to her. How Adelaide sometimes start scribbling on her tissues while she talked to her boyfriend who she assumed lived away from New York. The fidgeting Cate does when she's serving Rex and giggles a little when she talks to him. Y/N could see how tired Sam was even when she had just started her shift a few moments ago. The neatness of her diner clothes, layers of makeup, and fake smile couldn't mask the exhaustion the woman has felt for who knows how long. She didn't want to pry about anyone's story so she tries to offer what she only can to someone who deems her a stranger, kindness. It doesn't hurt to treat anyone fairly.

"No, not from around here. I'm just trying to start over." She answers half-heartedly, trying not to give away any information about her at all. Sam sees a gentle smile from her and she couldn't help but feel the burning sensation on her cheeks.

"I wish you well for that. Everyone deserves a restart." And with that, Y/N thanked her for refilling her.

Those were one of many encounters Sam had with her. There were times Y/N would order 2 cups of coffee for her to share with anyone on the staff and reluctantly Sam accepted her third request at the random times she offered. She was beyond suspicious. Her doubt was understandable given the fact that she went through a lot that broke her sense of trust in anyone. But her cautiousness was only met with a tender conversation. Y/N would always ask how she is and the first and ever personal information she has ever given to anyone outside her family was her. Sam vaguely talked about how Tara has been slowly losing interest in seeking help and acting like nothing happened. Of course, there are a few changes here and there to make it seem like a normal rant about her younger sister and Y/N listened intently to her.

Or maybe it was because she was too distracted by the beauty of the older Carpenter sister.

Those seeming doe eyes that hid too many secrets.

Another night shift has come and to Sam's discomfort, she had to be at work. She just came from therapy and her second doctor had just given up on her, making her night already more dreadful than it was. And just to top things off the students who have been visiting the diner lately have been making it their job to worsen her night by being obnoxious and gossiping over her. They weren't even trying to keep it down as if they were back in high school and Sam had just stolen the famous girl's ex-boyfriend. Tara had told her the rumors about her and Woodsboro before and she couldn't care less about what a stranger, who wasn't even there, would think. It was the breaking point when one of them spilled their milkshake on her "accidentally". The smug smile the girl wore before she did it was almost too easy to miss but little did they know that Y/N had been watching them silently the entire time. The woman's had enough of their disturbance. She had been gripping on her pen hard to almost split it in half.

"I'm so sorry, miss." The girl in white apologized with a snide tone. Her friends giggle at her antics on the now pink-stained light blue blouse Sam wore. It just happened to be a strawberry milkshake too. Just last week a girl threw her orange juice at her when she was on her way home with dinner. At this point she thought she's collecting all the fruit flavored drinks.

"D-Don't worry, I'll get it cleaned up." Sam begrudgingly states while avoiding her eyes before she went to turn around but stopped when she saw how she almost bumped into someone,

Familiar Chelsea boots stood before her.

"I beg to differ." They hear the person say before the woman realizes who it was.

"And who are you supposed to be? Her friend?" One of them asks cockily to which Y/N smiles at their confidence. She had her sleeves rolled up already, coat resting back in her booth and Dale was waiting for her cue to tag along after she signaled him from her table earlier.

"Didn't your parents ever teach you some manners on gossiping about people you don't know? Let alone the one serving you your meals and minding her damn business?" She had slowly paced past the unmoving Sam Carpenter that watched closely. Both hands rested on the side of their table and her anger was prevalent from the way she carried herself in the scene.

"She's a lying snake and a murdering bitch!" The other one barked from her seat.

"Let me guess, you got that from Reddit? What else are you going to believe next, that Beyonce's part of the Illuminati?" Y/N mocked her statement and that's when Sam realized that she knew about the rumors surrounding her, that she knew some bit of her past.

The girls had been quiet after she pointed out their bullshit. Sam had always seen her be courteous and approachable when she stops by, her smiles almost making her eyes crinkle when waving at them, and treated everyone with reason, but tonight was different. This was a woman who has lost her patience after holding it for so long,

"I'm going to ask you to leave. People like you don't deserve to be served when you treat the servers here like they're nothing." Y/N ordered with her eyes unblinking with focus.

When no one moved, Y/N let Dale handle the rest by approaching the table and the girls scurried fast before they were going to be thrown out by the man who stood almost six feet tall. Sam heard a few yells at the girls to leave the diner when they exited the place and her gaze follows back Y/N who had changed her demeanor. The cook pats her back for her handling the situation and thanks her before he gives Sam a pat as well and comes back to his previous spot. It was then that the woman offered her the unsparing eyes that always looked at her and asks,

"Are you okay?" Sam thought it sounded so sweet, all she could respond was a faint nod. She didn't even comprehend how a bit close she was already to her until a hint of soft vanilla could be smelled from her. Not the kind where it almost smelled artificial like those vape juices, but it was almost authentic. The woman before her then fishes out something out of her back pocket and extended her handkerchief.

"Here. You got an extra blouse, dear?" Another question follows after Sam takes it and started wiping away some of the liquid.

"No, mines in my apartment, and it's a few blocks away," Y/N hears her voice again after it was silenced earlier, "Hey Dale, Peter doesn't mind his servers being out of uniform for a situation like this, right?" She shouts at the cook who was just about to send a plate to Dolly, Sam's partner for the shift tonight.

"Nah, let me handle him when he asks next time. I gotchu Sam." Dale nods their way.

Y/N then started unbuttoning her shirt and it revealed a white tank top underneath her white button-up shirt. Sam knew should be looking away but couldn't even help herself. Her attention was so close on her slightly toned arms until she snapped out of her daze as the woman handed her top, "Here, you can borrow this for now."

Dolly went to grab a mop and started cleaning the rest of the drink on the floor, "I'll take it from here, Sam." She reassures her and Sam was beyond grateful of the people supporting her.

"A-Are you sure?" Sam looks back at Y/N who hasn't fazed.

"Yeah don't worry about it, Sam." She beams.

The Carpenter girl then watched her walk back to her booth like nothing transpired and quietly apologized to the remaining customers she'd passed by before sitting down. But if Y/N was being honest, she was still trying to calm down from the adrenaline. She was well aware that violence was never the option, yet the possibility for things to go south was out there. She never wants to ever resort to that. Sam then finally moved from the spot she was seemingly glued onto since the confrontation and went to change in the staff room. While she was away, Y/N ordered a martini and piña colada instead of finishing her coffee. Caffeine wouldn't help flush away the rush that still lingered. In between changing her top, Sam couldn't help but wonder why someone like Y/N would stand up for her when she barely knew her.

But that thought was pushed aside when she started slipping into the button-up shirt that was handed to her by the very woman she was curious about and a whiff of her scent made its way to her nostrils again. Sam paused for a second to process how addicting Y/N's scent was. Even her damn perfume was almost sweet. After pushing her thoughts away and finishing closing the shirt, she tossed her ruined blouse in her bag and went back out to continue her shift but only to be stopped,

"Hey, I kinda asked Dale to give you a break so... care to sit with me?" Y/N wondered before the drinks she ordered arrived with Dolly winking at her. The woman shyly smiles back at her before she left them alone and dealt with another customer.

"Yeah, I'd… actually like that." Sam settled on the other side of the booth as she slide the glass of martini to her, "Oh, I'm not allowed to drink while on—"

"Take it easy, Sam. You've been through a lot just now so take it. It's on me." She waves off before taking a big sip of her piña colada.

The woman reluctantly takes a decent amount from her glass while Y/N fixes her files that had been slightly scattered on her side of the table. It was the right moment for Sam to finally pop the question,

"You knew?" It came off pretty fast, making Y/N tilt her head.

"About Woodsboro, I mean. I'm sorry that came off harder than intended." Sam clarified her question and apologized for being forward to which Y/N didn't mind.

"That's alright. I've only read two news articles about it but other than that, it's all I know."

"You don't have to tell me about it, Sam. You said you wanted to start fresh, and you don't owe anyone an explanation." Y/N assured her and the Carpenter girl countered, "No, I feel like I can trust you about… all of this." Sam replies before taking a deep breath.

From being the daughter of the original killers in the Woodsboro murders to her seeing visions of her dad in the mirror and being a victim of the ghost face attacks, she spared no details throughout her story, her therapy sessions going almost nowhere because she'd scare them off and Y/N never stopped her flow and listened intently to everything she said. Not even a single sound came out of her mouth as Sam spoke. The only thing she ever offered were observant eyes that watched every move, like how the crease on her forehead slowly increased as she went on or the hint of distaste in her voice when she mentioned her deceased ex-boyfriend. She barely bats an eye when she even admitted that she enjoyed killing him and Amber. Not a single change of muscle movement on her face other than taking a few sips from her drink and blinking now and then.

When Sam finished telling her whole story, she had been anticipating the request for her to leave and never come back, just like the one her psychiatrist said when she told him the truth that afternoon. She had grown to expect that from anyone now. Yet all she heard was an exhale from the woman she shared the table with,

"That's... a lot to take in." She hears her note as she rub her chin,

"I'm sorry you had to go through all that, Sam. You didn't deserve it." Y/N continues with empathetic eyes.

"You don't… feel like the need to push me away?" Sam asks, and for once she feared someone's answer more than anyone else. Almost too afraid that she'd scare Y/N away.

"No, not really." She told nonchalantly.

Sam stared blankly at her as she moved to cross her arms and looked down from her seat. She couldn't tell if she was about to take back her statement or maybe ask her more about the attacks. Yet Y/N was able to catch Sam off guard as she went to finish her martini,

"Not going to lie, those two deserved to die for what they did— I mean… committing murders because your movie franchise sucked? That seems childish, especially for an adult man." Y/N comments on her thoughts, not realizing it made her choke on her drink.

"Oh my god, Sam— are you okay?" She tries to offer her a glass of water though the Carpenter girl waves it off.

"No, no, it's just— you're right their motive seemed childish." A laugh follows, and it makes Y/N smile that she witnesses her being unguarded. She almost felt too lucky that Sam let herself be this vulnerable to her now.

"Thank you, for not turning me away and for always listening," Sam says after calming down.

And Sam meant it. It was nice to be heard and not hated for the first time. She felt safe knowing that she could trust a new person for once. She still has a long way from being able to trust again, but small process is still process.

"You're welcome. You deserve it." The woman says as she leans forward on the table and rested both elbows close to the edge, "If you need someone to talk about... this, I'm always open. No matter what it may be, I won't turn you away." Y/N continues with her signature smile this time.

After that, Sam went on with her shift while Y/N picked back up the papers she had scanned before the confrontation. It's a good thing she noted down her thoughts to remember where she left off and continued looking through some of the witness reports she had brought with her for their recent case. Sam would sometimes steal a few glances from her and offer a small smile whenever she gets caught. That was the moment she started growing more fond of their diner's regular. Each visit felt more special than the last and each offer of coffee breaks has made both of them closer. Whenever Sam wasn't on duty, Y/N would feel a little bored but Sam was able to text her and ask about her day. When there was someone who wanted to talk shit about her, Y/N wouldn't hesitate to spit back at them or push the person when someone throws their drink at her. The Carpenter girl appreciated the gestures and sometimes feels too bad that she gets to be splashed at, but the woman didn't mind. Tara got to meet her one day when she visited Sam to work and hanged out a little just to kill time. She was very skeptical of Y/N at first, but the way her sister eased up around her gave her the impression that she was trustworthy. Sam's trust is hard to earn after all.

The night was about to come, and Sam had just finished her shift when she happen to encounter the person that has been making her days ten times better than she ever expected. Y/N always wore a pantsuit to work, switching from 4 pairs. Today she was wearing the brown one that had a waistcoat and she was killing the style. Sam never gets tired of her presence or the way she always presents herself. She just looked ravishing in a pantsuit. Y/N had her coat neatly folded on her right arm that held folders while her messenger bag rested on her right shoulder. The smile that was so familiar to her greeted Sam Carpenter warmly that she couldn't help but blush,

"Good evening, Miss Carpenter. I'll be your chauffeur for tonight." Y/N announces with an accent. The attempt makes Sam laugh, "If that's your take on a British accent, you need to work more on it." She teased softly, shaking her head.

"C'mon, I'll walk you home." Sam hears her offer and gestured her occupied arm for her to take, which she happily does so.

"How chivalrous of you, Miss Y/L/N. Keep this up, and I might start falling for you." Half of it was a joke, but she was indeed falling for her, harder than Sam even realizes. If only she knew that Y/N had already fallen for her a while now.

She kept herself composed after Sam's teasing. Both of them chatted casually as they walk through the streets of New York. Y/N talked about her day at the office and how their copier was jamming down. It was annoying her and she had to kick it a few times before it worked again. Sam, on the other hand, shared about how a costumer had a screaming match with a date while eating and almost broke things in the diner. Dale was almost livid when the woman raised her plate and was about to throw it at the poor guy. Moments like these were nice for Sam. The life that was just mundane for once and not surrounded by the craziness of her past that still lingers. No screaming stranger threatening her, another flavored drink being thrown her way or a masked psycho trying to kill her, but a quiet night. Laughs were shared, jokes were thrown at each other, and flirts slipped here and there to make it seem like it was nothing. Even if the world around them was a little overwhelming, they were stuck in their own bubble cherishing each other's presence. Y/N was content and she had gathered enough courage until they reached Sam's apartment building. She collected her thoughts and watched her let go of her arm,

"This is me," Sam gestures to the building door, "Thank you for the walk, Y/N. It was... nice." She follows up with a light blush present on her cheeks. She hoped Y/N didn't notice them.

"Yeah, it was." Y/N smiles at her and scratched to back of her head.

"Look, I've been thinking, do you want to grab dinner sometime? You know— like a date. If you don't mind." The woman begins to avoid her brown eyes. Y/N was way too damn shy, and it made the brown girl giggle.

Sam then approaches her and almost closes the gap between them, leaving a peck on her cheek that it made Y/N jump. She turned so red it was almost like she was cherry. It was a first to witness her like this and it made Sam giggle even more as she didn't move away from her spot,

"I don't mind at all. I'm free by 6 pm tomorrow. No need to be fancy or grand, anything cheap would be fine by me." The Carpenter girl move close to her ear to whisper it to her.

Y/N then finally pulls herself together and gathers back the natural courage she had, trying to match Sam's, "6 pm, tomorrow it is then. I'll pick you up here, Carpenter."

She was the one to pull away and she puts back her signature smile before bidding her farewells to her.

"Good night, Sam. Sweet dreams." Y/N smoothly delivers and starts walking back to where they came from earlier.

Sam then watches her walk away and bites her lip. The view was indeed nice to watch. She then covers her face with both hands before giddily smiling at the ground, thinking about what had just happened. Sam thought it felt like high school all over again. That rush in her veins was quite familiar to her. It's been a while since she had it. All she has to do now is prepare for tomorrow and be sure it's perfect. Y/N, on the other hand, skipped through the streets like a little kid as she smiled widely. Few strangers looked at her funny, but everyone else focused to their own world. The papers she thought she'd be working on tonight would probably be forgotten now that the only thing on her mind is their date tomorrow.

Both women looked forward to it.

・ ‥…━━━━━━━━━━♡♡♡━━━━━━━━━━…‥ ・

thank you for reading! fell free to leave a request :>

#sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter #sam carpenter fanfic #scream 5 #scream 6 #melissa barrera #i love her so much your honor #nena's written work

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ghulehunknown · 6 months

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Papa Headcanons 🫂🩸

Day 14 of KINKTOBER is here! 🎃

**WARNING - some NSFW included**

Also available on AO3!

My headcanons of the Papas taking care of you while on your period

Primo

Does not fully understand how painful it is for you, but shows empathy all the same, knowing he’d never want to experience it himself

Holds you in his arms, rubs your shoulders and back, and kisses your forehead

Brings you a heating pad and hot chocolate or tea, or anything in particular you’re craving

He is absolutely fine not having sex or receiving BJs from you and does not bring it up unless you seem particularly keen

Gives you his own edibles made from Ministry-grown marijuana

Stays up to watch a movie with you, holding your hand while you’re curled up in pain but quickly falls asleep next to you

Secondo

Has a stockpile of necessary items for all his ghulehs - pads, tampons, pain meds, heating pads, snacks, etc.

Is usually known throughout the Ministry to have extra tampons under his bathroom sink in case you run out or forgot to put one in your purse

Already has towels down on the mattress and is prepared for sex to get messy

Is fine with getting blood on his dick but prefers to shower right after

He’s also perfectly fine to eat you out

Gives you lots of kisses whenever you want

Massages your back

Terzo

First, curses the universe for punishing you simply for having ovaries and a uterus. Second, praises Lucifer that you’re not pregnant.

Will gladly go to the store to get you anything you want or need, but definitely buys the wrong thing (“Babe, what size pussy do you own?” and proceeds to buy the wrong kind of pad anyway)

Drives you to McDonald’s at 3AM because you woke up hungry and craving fries (because oddly so did he)

“Wahoo, blowjob week!”

Keeps saying “You know the cure for your pains, eh? *waggles eyebrows* The feeeemale orgasm!”

Fucking LOVES the sight of your blood on his dick

Excited to go down on you

Enjoys quiet movie nights when you’re not feeling up to sex

Cardinal Copia

Gulps and gets a little nervous

The sight of blood makes him woozy

He’ll still run to the store for you to get what you need, but gets lost and only brings back half of what you asked for (“They didn’t have it!” he’ll claim, sure that he checked everywhere)

Tells you a story about how one time in elementary school some kid kicked him in the balls so he understands your pain

Nervous about having sex and seeing blood but he would try anything for you if you really wanted to

He’d prefer to make you happy in other ways like giving you snacks and back rubs

Dracopia 🧛

“Your cunt looks especially delicious, tesoro.”

Celebrates your body’s natural cycles and praises Lucifer

He already knows your menstrual cycle and knew you were about to start it before you did

Has pain meds blended up in a smoothie for you

Tells you he didn’t buy tampons at the store because you don’t need them *wink*

Practically cums when he smells fresh blood on you

“You are so wet~” “Copia, it’s blood.” “Ehh, yes I know”

Eats you out like a champ

Popia

He drops whatever he’s doing and goes to the store immediately to bring you snacks and tampons

Gets you whatever snacks you desire and eats half of them

Texts you every step of the way in the store (“Okay I walked inside…okay I turned to the right…10 steps down the…3rd aisle? Okie dokie!”)

Content to just cuddle and watch movies with you

Also content to get blowies but particularly curious about going down on you and how different it might be than usual

Nihil

Still thinks you can’t get pregnant on your period

Thinks you bleed out of your pee hole. Actually, he thinks your vagina is also your pee hole. Actually he doesn’t know. There are 3 holes?!

Grumbles, not understanding your pain, but you return home later and a single rose and some pain meds lay on the nightstand with a Hallmark greeting card that says “get well soon” - he’s too out of his comfort zone to buy pads or tampons

Won’t touch your vagina unless you’ve just showered, but will gladly hint at getting a blowjob

When/if you do have sex he wears it like a badge of honor as if he’s just gone to war and braved some unspeakable fate, almost expecting to get praised for doing so

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undead-supernova · 3 months

Text

HIGH TOLERANCE

Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5

Masterlist

warnings: so much angst, a night gone wrong, more (derogatory) Steve, Gertrude (extra derogatory), Delta-9 gummies

pairings: modern!bestfriend!Eddie x bisexual!fem!reader

plot: dates aren't always what you want them to be...let alone with people who you don't really want to be on dates with

wc: 4k

song inspirations: VOID by Melanie Martinez, We Are Nobody Else by Lady Lamb

Part 4: "Only 10mg"

“What do you mean you haven’t seen any movies this year?”

“I mean, I’ve seen movies. I just haven’t found anything I thought was interesting in the last eight months.”

“What do you watch then?”

This morning you actually found someone on Hinge named Gertrude and by the afternoon you were on a lunch date. And you’d thought they were cute when you met up at Grub Burger, like really cute, with thin-rimmed rectangular glasses and a long dark braid down their back. They had a soft voice and an even softer smile…but it was quickly starting to go downhill.

Every question they threw at you felt like an investigation where you were wrong every single time, as if your preferences weren’t good enough. Even the lack of movies you’d seen.

In your defense, you usually went to the movie theater if Eddie asked. He was really good at guessing when a movie’s going to be worthwhile (and you weren’t). He never once disappointed. He’d also never taken you to a movie without at least giving you something of the cannabis persuasion and buying a large popcorn for you to share.

Sometimes he even bought your ticket.

Which you always pretended were dates like the desperate woman you were.

“Yeah, I really like 2000s movies,” you replied, shrugging. “I’ll pop on a Seth Rogan film every once and a while. Like, I know they’re a little outdated or whatever, but they’re fun. Oh, especially if you smoke some weed. Then it’s super funny. Like, This Is The End? It’s just cool to see all these actors—"

“I mean, they’re, like, super problematic,” Gertrude interrupted.

You nodded. “No, I know,” you agreed, scratching at your neck. “I know. It’s not the best, but like, I recognize that. I don’t think it’s all funny. And it’s not just Seth Rogan, there are other genres like dramas and fantasy and horror. Have you heard of the movie The Invisible? It’s about this guy who dies and is a ghost and can’t talk to anyone and finds out he—”

“I just thought because you’re queer, you’d have better standards for the media you consume.”

Pausing, you felt yourself deflate. You shrugged again, wondering how this conversation was turning into something else entirely. “I mean, I think you could argue that every piece of media is problematic, depending on the way you look at it. If you acknowledge that the media you like is flawed, you’re still allowed to enjoy it. It’s not that hard.”

Gertrude gave you that judgmental look again, pushing their fork around their French fries. “Agree to disagree. Anyways, maybe you should ask me a question now.”

As if I had had any chance to ask anything since we sat down.

“Uh, okay. What’s your favorite color?”

Gertrude finally smiled for the first time since you’d greeted each other. They really were pretty. There was just something so grating about their attitude…

“I think I like a soft yellow, something bright and cheery.”

You nodded, trying to seem more interested than you were. Some part of you even felt like laughing. “Yeah, yellow’s a good color. Very vibrant. Makes you happy.”

“What about you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe black? Red?”

Steve sighed, scratching his bare thigh before going back to his cherry and goat cheese ice cream. Eddie merely stared down at his cream puff flavor, unsure as to why he thought this date would be a good idea. He’d suggested they go out to get ice cream (definitely not to distract himself from what was probably happening across town with someone who he definitely wasn’t thinking about).

But Steve didn’t remotely hesitate, making Eddie think that maybe that was a sign. He was in it now. They were getting somewhere…

If only it hadn’t started going downhill just from asking basic questions that they somehow hadn’t thought of in the last however many years of knowing each other.

“Ah, come on, Eddie. You can’t say red!”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed, trying not to get irritated. “Why not?” he asked. “It’s a color. That was part of the assignment.”

“I just feel like it’s a little stereotypical for you.”

“Why, ‘cause I like metal?” Eddie guessed with a sigh sitting in the back of his throat. He was careful not to release it.

“Uh, yeah,” Steve replied. Like it was obvious. Like it was stupid. “Precisely.”

“Okay, then what’s yours, big guy?”

“Probably red or green,” you answered. “Not a soft green. More like a deep emerald?”

“Like Christmas?”

You shook your head. To give them credit, it was a common question you got whenever anyone cared enough to ask.

Well, except for one person...

“Well, no. I wouldn’t consider myself someone who likes Christmas all that much.”

“Let me guess, your favorite holiday is something weird, like St. Patrick’s Day.”

What the hell was this person even talking about? Were they hearing themselves talk?

You successfully suppressed your sigh before you decided to answer honestly. “Uh, my favorite holiday is Halloween.”

“Next you’re gonna tell me your favorite holiday is Halloween.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Uh, because it is.” What was Steve even talking about? Why was he suddenly being so fucking judgmental? “Let me guess, your favorite is Christmas,” he bit back.

Steve laughed, oblivious to Eddie’s venom. “Yeah, the lights are cool. The hot chocolate with the peppermint in it. Oh, and the snow. You can layer everything. I mean, it’s cute. Plus,” he stopped, clearly trying to make his next sentence sound less rude. “I just think Halloween is a little…meh.”

“Meh?”

Steve shrugged. “Yeah.”

“What beef do you have with Halloween?”

“It’s just a little overdone, don’t you think?”

You shook your head, appalled as to why they didn’t get how important the holiday was.

“No, I think it’s about expressing yourself and becoming something more than what you are. It gives kids a moment of exploration of themselves and creativity. Not to mention its importance for queer people and how they can have one night where they can be themselves—"

“—without the scrutiny of the public. We could walk out in drag or anything feminine whatsoever and it’s not considered threatening, even if that’s shitty in and of itself. But it’s still that opportunity.” Eddie smiled to himself. “That chance. It’s bringing a sense of fucking safety that’s otherwise missing.”

Steve nodded before he shrugged, scraping at the bottom of his cup. “Yeah, you make a good point. I guess I haven’t really thought about it like that.”

Eddie forgot that he and Steve never really had conversations like these. It was usually you who he could talk to for hours on end, deconstructing what it meant to live and how everything was about perspective. Inebriated, sober—it didn’t matter. Like those days at the aquarium, you were able to see the bigger picture at the end of the day. You talked about stuff like this without even having to be asked.

That ticket still sat in his wallet. He always took it out whenever he needed a pick-me-up. It gave him a spark of hope that life could change for the better if someone like you existed.

Steve kept talking, but Eddie was pulling out his wallet and running his fingers over the ticket like it would bring you here and he could have you here instead.

As you and Gertrude fell into silence, you put your hand in your skirt pocket, feeling the smoothness of Eddie’s yellow pick. Tracing the edges, you wondered what it felt like for him to run it down his strings. How it fit in his fingers.

How he was doing.

Where he was.

If he was available.

You looked at Gertrude, watching them scroll through their TikTok feed, volume up, before you stood and grabbed your purse.

“I have to go.”

Eddie watched Steve reach the very bottom of his cup, hoping there was a way for him to slip in a reason to leave. Because, holy shit, this was a piss poor excuse for a date.

He looked back over at the long line forming at the door, knowing you would die to have a cup of the wildberry lavender flavor. You were a big fan of Jeni’s Ice Cream and always gave him grief whenever he went without you. It was kind of funny how your face would screw up as you yelled at him for being a traitor. He nearly chuckled at the memory.

And it suddenly hit him that he was way more concerned with his thoughts of you.

How your date was going.

Where you were.

If you were available.

Fuck having a good enough reason to leave.

“Can we go?”

You basically sprinted to your car, barely registering how rude you had just been. You didn’t say goodbye, didn’t even give them an excuse. But you argued to, well, yourself that telling them some shitty excuse would be ruder than not saying anything at all.

All you wanted was to talk to Eddie and tell him about how awful your date was. How mean Gertrude was and how confused you were about what the hell you’d done to deserve their scrutiny.

Sighing, you scrambled into the front seat and tossed your phone onto the passenger seat. Pulling out Eddie’s guitar pick, you tried to calm yourself down. You studied the brand, the tiny tortoise outline with the shell replaced with the Tortex brand name. It read that it was a Dunlop, 50mm. Smooth. Thin. The kind Eddie always said he preferred, always said it hit the strings so magically. Said it rang out the bottom E string, like it was trying to reach the heavens and got there every time.

And there was your eyeliner, ruining it.

You shook your head, resigning to the fact that you probably should just go home and isolate yourself for a while. Try and figure out how the hell you were supposed to be normal around Eddie and Steve the next time you saw them together.

Is that how it’s going to be now? you wondered, feeling nausea pool in your stomach. Are they going to be a package deal? Is that something I could survive?

For how long?

Before you could even start your car, your phone started going off. As soon as you saw Eddie’s picture pop up, you let out a sigh of relief.

“Hey,” he breathed, sounding as exhausted as you felt.

“Hey, hello,” you replied, trying to calm yourself down. “Hi. I was actually about to call you.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. I just had the worst date ever,” you grumbled, trying to rub the eyeliner off the pick.

“Me, too.”

You sat up straighter, shoving the pick back in your pocket. “Really?”

“God, yeah. I’m never going to Jeni’s without you again.”

“You went to Jeni’s without me?” With Steve, you felt like adding.

But you were going to be good. Just this once.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Like I said, I’m never going without you ever again.” You let out an irritated huff. “Listen, Weirdo, would you mind if I came over and we took some edibles and, like, watched a movie?”

Thank God.

“Yes, please.”

“See you in twenty?”

You smiled. “See you in twenty. Traitor.”

Eddie had gotten back to your apartment at the same time as you, both fighting for the closest parking spot with playful honks. You may have almost hit his van. And he could (maybe) admit that he almost deserved it.

“That’s rude,” he said as he hopped down from the van. “That’s just—”

He stopped as he finally got a look at you. Because it wasn’t even fair anymore, the way you just being you flustered him. Just standing next to your car with a simple Joan Jett t-shirt tucked into a short skirt and black Converse. Some sword earrings. And fishnets. Fucking fishnets.

Did he mention that you were wearing a different pair than the night before?

How many do you fucking own?

“That’s just what?” you asked, looking confused.

Eddie had to get a grip. He couldn’t keep doing this, couldn’t keep losing his focus whenever you were around. Hell, he was already losing his focus when you weren’t. When you were looking like this, it made everything worse. Much, much worse.

He shook his head before poking your shoulder. “Extremely rude.”

You rolled your eyes and swatted his hand away, starting the short walk up to your apartment. “Hey, you asked me to hang and then you tried to steal my favorite parking spot? Where are your manners?”

“I think we both know I lost those years ago.”

“Okay, weirdo,” you said.

“Uh, what did you just call me?” Eddie asked playfully, clasping his hand over his chest.

A giggle escaped your lips as you ascended the stairs, making his smile widen.

“You heard me!” you exclaimed as you quickened your pace up the steps. “And I will not be taking it back!”

The two of you bickered like always, going back and forth with seemingly no end to each bit that you started and never truly seemed to finish. Sometimes it felt like he couldn’t help himself around you, always excited to hear what you had to say or what you wanted to do. Anything you wanted, because any opportunity to be around you was an opportunity worth taking.

You decided to heat up leftover soup for you both, maneuvering around the kitchen while you complained about the weather and your upstairs neighbor who was taking all the warm water these days despite the scorching heat.

Eddie wouldn’t admit it, but he was having a hard time paying attention to your words. How could he when your hands were waving around the air and putting your hair up? How in the hell was he supposed to pay attention when you decided to run chapstick over your lips? Or when you bent down to take your shoes off, skirt riding up just enough to reveal the lining of red underwear? And how was he supposed to feel normal when you were wearing the cutest fucking socks, with black cats sporting witch hats next to a brewing cauldron?

“I’m gonna go pick out a movie,” Eddie said suddenly, backing away from the kitchen.

“Oh, yeah,” you said absentmindedly as you fiddled with the microwave. “That’s a really good idea. What’re you gonna put on?”

“No idea,” he lied. “Absolutely no idea.”

After you finished the chickpea and sausage soup, you and Eddie popped 10mg Delta-9 gummies and decided to chill on the couch. As soon as Eddie pressed play on your remote, you immediately knew it was the opening to When Harry Met Sally. Like always.

But it wasn’t like you were paying attention. If anything, you were talking over it like you were in a crowded room. Small talk here and there until you were unable to keep your questions to yourself.

“So, you said your date with Steve didn’t go well,” you said. “Do you want to maybe talk about it?”

Eddie groaned, throwing his hands over his face. You may have taken the opportunity to stare at him, how his tattoos were visible. He’d shown up in his jean jacket but discarded it as if he was taunting you with only a black tank top and jeans. His guitar pick necklace around his neck. Rings. Threaded bracelets and watch. That fucking nail polish…

Focus, you told yourself. Just focus.

“I don’t know…” he trailed, biting his lip.

“I’ll share mine if you share yours,” you suggested.

A sigh left his lips before he gave in. “He thought it was predictable that I liked black and Halloween.”

“Has he even met you?” you asked, scoffing. “Of course you do. That’s, like, your whole thing. It’s not predictable, it’s just who you are.”

“I know! It was so weird. We’ve known each other since high school. I don’t know how he didn’t know that already. Rob knows more than him, apparently.”

“She’s extremely observant,” you noted.

Too observant.

“That’s a good...observation.” Now it was your turn to groan, making Eddie laugh before he added, “Now’s your turn, Weirdo.”

Well, I couldn’t stop thinking about you the entire time. So what does that say about me?

“I got absolutely slammed for my shitty 2000s comedies.”

“But Michael Cera is a visionary…” he trailed, confused.

“Well, apparently they’re all problematic and I’m damaging our community.”

Eddie shook his head, rolling his eyes. “Whatever. So is everything else. Besides, you don’t even laugh at the bad stuff. It’s like eating around a bad food you like. It’s not like the whole plate is bad, right? Most of it’s good.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” you exclaimed, throwing your hand up. “It’s like eating at Waffle House. You know it’s not going to be the best meal you’ve ever had, but damn if those waffles don’t hit the spot every time. Especially when you’re fucked up.”

“You get it! You may be the smartest person I’ve met.”

“Or maybe the dumbest.”

“Nah, you’re pretty intelligent…when you want to be.”

“Ouch!” you said, grabbing one of your throw pillows and whacking him with it. “Take that.”

Before you could take another shot, he took the pillow from you and hit you back. “You deserved that one, Weirdo.”

You fell into gentle laughter, shaking your head at him before you sighed and leaned your head on the back cushion. Eddie readjusted, also leaning his head back so he could make eye contact with you. He wrapped his arms around the pillow, hugging it to his chest.

For a moment, you just kind of sat there and looked at him. Watched his eyes flicker back and forth between yours while you did the same. Studied the brown, the way his pupils dilated as you kept staring at each other. You couldn’t say how long that lasted before you finally said something.

“I just don’t think it’s supposed to be this hard.”

“What, dating?” he asked, tightening his grasp on the pillow.

“Yeah.”

He nodded, letting out a hum. “I don’t think so, either.”

You looked away from Eddie’s gaze to find him fiddling with the pillow’s black fringe, clearly anxious about something. It was exactly how he played with his lighter or tapped his leg. Rapid, incessant. Finding his bearings through the texture as if it could keep his attention longer than a few seconds.

And then he said your name, bringing your eyes back to his.

“Should I keep seeing Steve?” he asked.

This time you were the one readjusting, feeling yourself scoot even closer to him. Your legs were touching, the blanket seeming to slip halfway off you two. But neither of you moved to fix it.

“Does Steve make you happy?”

“I…I don’t know.” He let out a staggered breath. “I think so.”

And you tried not to, but your leg was slipping further down his calf. Blanket be damned—you were already starting to burn.

“Tell me something. Why do you always put When Harry Met Sally on?” you asked, trying to steer away from the subject of Steve Harrington. Trying to distract yourself from the heat building inside you. Trying to distract yourself from thinking something stupid. “I thought the second Lord of the Rings movie was your favorite. The Two Towers.”

He shrugged. “No, yeah. The Two Towers is my favorite. I just think I’ve just always related to When Harry Met Sally. Always missing my chances, opportunities. Always just one step away from getting what I want.”

Was Eddie getting…closer?

You raised an eyebrow. “Missing your chances?”

And why was he staring at your mouth?

“Yeah.”

But weren’t you also staring at his?

“Are you, um, Harry?” you asked, trying to keep yourself from doing something stupid. “Or are you Sally?”

Why was he so close to making you do something stupid?

“Depends on the day,” he said, softer this time.

And why was he leaning closer, searching your eyes for some kind of confirmation that this was okay?

And why were you about to let him?

“What do you want?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

Eddie didn’t answer, the hum of Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal being the only sound left in the room other than your shared breathing.

“What has she done? She makes desserts.”

It was growing heavier the closer he got to you, maybe the closest you’d ever been since you met. And it was so strange, the way he affected you.

“You all went to a Met game together?”

Your fingers reached out, searching for his. Found it on his thigh, also reaching for yours. Fingers touching, itching to twine. And it was so strange, the way he moved you.

“But Sally hates baseball.”

And there Eddie was, leaning in more and more, his breath seeming to intoxicate you the more it fanned over your face.

“Harry doesn’t even like sweets.”

But it was dangerous, the way he could break you.

His lips just barely brushed yours before you pulled back.

“No,” you said.

“What?” Eddie asked, leaning back. “Are you okay?”

All you could think about was Steve. Eddie literally just told you he was happy with Steve and then he was going to, what, kiss you? What business did he have doing that? And what business did you have being a homewrecker?

“I think you should go,” you said sternly, throwing the blanket off and standing.

Eddie looked up at you like he was confused. As if he wasn’t just trying to do something incredibly stupid.

“What? Really?”

You walked over to the opposite end of the living room, desperate to stay the hell away from him. Because there was some part of you that was wondering how stupid kissing him would really be. But maybe if you stayed as far away from him as possible, you wouldn’t be tempted. You couldn’t be.

“Yep.”

Eddie shook his head, standing. “What just happened here?” he asked. “Like, seriously.”

You shook your head. “I just want you to go, Eddie. Okay?”

“No, not okay. Jesus H Christ,” he huffed, throwing the pillow on the couch. “You can’t just kick me out and not even tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

“You should figure that one out for yourself. You’re probably too high anyway,” you said, maybe a little too bitterly.

“It was only ten milligrams,” he emphasized. “And maybe, just maybe, I need to be given some clear fucking communication.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

He gave you a hard stare. “Really? Is this really what you’re doing right now?”

“What?” you pushed. “What am I doing?”

Say it, you thought. Eddie, please just say it.

“Maybe you should figure that one out for yourself,” he mocked.

And before you could figure out how to respond, Eddie turned away from you. He stomped over to the kitchen counter, grabbing his keys and wallet before walking towards the door.

“For the record,” he said, turning back to look at you in the eye. “I’m completely sober. You of all people should know I have a high tolerance.”

Eddie opened the door and slammed it right behind him.

Eddie couldn’t stop his thoughts firing at a rapid pace as he nearly sprinted to the van. He was going to pass out, he was so sure of it this time. Hell, he was dying. He had to be dying. There was no way he was going to survive this.

The kiss. The fucking kiss. He was going to kiss you. He was actually going to do it.

Eddie’s fingers trembled as he tried to unlock the driver’s side. But the keys slipped from his fingers, clanging onto the asphalt.

“Fuck,” he whispered, barely able to fight against whatever was grabbing hold of his throat and tightening its grasp. Shaking his head, he leaned his back against the driver’s side door. “Shit.”

Eddie clutched his chest for real this time, feeling his heart race. The panic was flooding his system, tears pricking at his eyes as he tried to focus on the breeze. The white noise of it moving through the trees. The stupid fucking squirrel nearly getting run over as someone barreled through the speed bumps. Your fucking Halloween socks.

This was going wrong. All of it. Every single last scrap of dignity he had was gone. He blew it. He fucking blew it.

If he was stronger, he would turn back around and bang on your door. Demand that you talk about this and tell you how your shared avoidance was going to be the death of any and all chance at a relationship. Kiss you the way he knew he could, knew he would.

Because there was no way, no way, that nothing was happening between you two.

He knew it. You knew it.

If only he was strong enough.

And it was occurring to him that he didn’t feel this way about Steve. If anything, he could never feel this way about him. And, frankly, he was starting to truly understand that it had nothing to do with Steve. It was everyone. He would never be able to feel this way about anyone else.

This time, Eddie couldn’t shake that off.

This time, Eddie knew that something had to change.

You couldn’t help but hope he’d turn back. That he’d walk right back in and kiss you the way you knew he could, knew he would if he wanted you like that. And maybe he did want to kiss you, you couldn’t say. But why would he continue to see Steve, bringing him up in nearly every conversation if he wanted you? What would be the point of that?

You were more confused than ever, finding yourself haunted by the scene playing on the TV behind you.

“What’s the matter with me?” Sally exclaimed.

“Nothing,” Harry said softly.

“I’m difficult!”

“You’re challenging,” he countered.

You fell back on the couch, sobbing as you listened to Harry and Sally go back and forth, nearly taunting you with how fucking accurate it was. How fucking accurate everything around you was, from music to movies and back again.

“No, no, no! I drove him away!”

This was your fault, and now you had to live with those pesky little consequences you hadn’t thought of. You drove Eddie away and now you had no idea how much longer you had before he would fade into a stranger, a fever dream of what once was. And a reminder of what could’ve been.

Taglist: @mrsjellymunson

#Eddie munson #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #best friend!eddie #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie x reader #best friend!Eddie x reader

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venturelovebot · 24 days

Text

A/N: It's the sequel to part one! I've been feeling kinda down lately so i made this one extra fluffy and special for everyone out there going through a rough time as well. I hope y'all enjoy! Writing this gave me so much serotonin! ( ´͈ ◡ `͈ )

Premise: G/N!insecure!reader draws a new tattoo for their crush teehee,,, just trust me when I say it's pure cotton candy fluff!!!

Warnings: None! Pure fluff!

"It'll be okay. Just call me if you need help." Illari turns away from you and opens the door.

You gulp softly as she turns the knob. At the door was your date– just as cute as the day you first saw them. A gentle pink lights up your cheeks and you feel yourself involuntarily begin to smile.

"Y/N! Didn't think you'd be here!" Sloane jokes, taking a seat across from you on the floor.

You both now sit facing your coffee table with traditional art supplies scattered about on its surface.

"I guess I could say the same for you." You reply awkwardly, unsure if it was the proper thing to say or not. Your circuits are fried from anxiety.

"Please, I'm not that bad!" Sloane laughs lightly. "I may of slept in but I wouldn't want to miss a first date!"

First date... it feels unreal.

Illari locks the door behind her before you're both left alone. In the distance you can hear the thunder rumbling from an oncoming storm... it's the only noise you can hear besides the deafening silence.

"I-I can turn on a movie if you want!" You offer, "Or maybe some music if you prefer?"

"Music sounds good! What do you like to listen to anyway?" They ask, taking a peak at your phone.

"Oh– mostly [favorite genre]. It helps me focus when I'm drawing." You tap on your work playlist and set your phone aside.

"I can dig that!"

The atmosphere begins to lighten and you exhale inaudibly. Your fingers glaze over your drawing supplies before you pick up a blue pencil for sketching outlines. Sloane sits across from you with their eyes glued on your movement.

"So... did you decide on what you wanted for your tattoo yet?" You ask.

Sloane takes out their phone and lays it down on the table. They show you a picture of a skull adorned with a ceramic flower crown that appeared to be on display in a museum somewhere.

"Last year I got to visit this archeological museum in Greece. I thought this was so cool!" They explain. You take a good look at it.

Immediately you begin by tracing a circle and sketching out the guide lines. Slowly you begin adding more details. First one socket, then two. The nose was third. Last came the mouth and teeth.

"Wow. That didn't take long at all..." Sloane slides over to your side to get a better look. You feel your face warm up as their knee gently touches yours.

"It's just the rough draft. We still have a lot of work to do." You lay the paper back down on the table. "We still need to decide on the flowers."

"Hmm... well, what're your favorite flowers?"

"My favorites? Why mine? This is your tattoo. It should be your favorite flowers."

There was a moment of silence as the two of you thought together. Another rumble of thunder in the distance as the sunset was covered up in a blanket of gray clouds.

"What about chrysanthemums? You said you saw this skull in Greece. Chrysanthemums are very popular there." You begin to sketch out the flowers along the top of the skull.

Sloane watches as your drawing slowly began to come together. Your fingers moved elegantly across the paper as you added more and more detail to your sketch. There was something fascinating about the way you did things that had them utterly engrossed with the whole process. Anyone else could do the same thing and it would bore them to tears– but not you. Something about you was different. Their heart softly pounded in their chest as you steadily continued your work.

"There. What do you think of it so far?" You ask, handing them the paper again.

There were no words. The silence from them made you anxious.

"You don't like it?" You frowned and bit your lip realizing you probably shouldn't have said that.

"It's beautiful. Of course I like it–" Sloane's face flushed from nervousness. "No, that's not true... I love it! You're crazy talented!"

You couldn't help but laugh. Sloane's gentle pink face turned bright vermillion– they had never been more flustered in front of another human being before. Not in a long time.

"I mean that!"

You tuck some of your hair behind your ear and glance away.

"I believe you. I've just never seen you so red before."

They place their hand on their face in an attempt to hide themself. "I–" They stop talking before they can embarrass themself further.

"Hm?" You teased them by poking their cheek. You simply couldn't help yourself this time.

Then you're caught by complete surprise when Sloane brings their hand to cup yours and place it on their warm face. Their other hand moves from their mouth and they look at you in complete seriousness.

"I mean it– you're different. I haven't ever felt like this before. It's weird– I love to talk to you. I love spending time with you. You're talented and interesting in every way–" They pause for a moment.

All is still. The only sound is the soft music playing in the background and the soft pattering of rain against the nearby windows.

"I mean it! I... I like you, okay? I mean it." They confess.

"Oh." Your faces now share the same flustered red. "Wow."

"Well... I fucked up, huh...?" Their hand begins to move away from yours.

You cup their face with your other hand and move in closer. Before you could think you press your lips up against theirs and kiss them. It feels like an eternity passes before you slowly pull away.

"C-can you do that again?" Sloane's voice cracks. Their smile lights up their entire face.

You do as they ask and kiss them again.

"One more time...?" They beg.

You kiss them one more time before the two of you separate for good. Afterwards you couldn't help but glance at the floor in embarrassment as the shame hit you all at once.

"Thanks." Is the only thing they can muster.

"Please don't tell Illari, she'll never let this go." You plead.

"I won't tell if you don't." Sloane smirks, still trying to recover from the whole ordeal.

"Then... umm... let's get back to it."

"To what?" Their heart begins to pound again.

"To the tattoo."

"Oh. Yeah. That." They exhale softly in both relief and disappointment. They made a mental note to ask for more kisses in the future.

You begin the slow and arduous clean up process. You're extra careful to brush off loose eraser rubber in a way that doesn't disturb the rest of the drawing. Outlining with ink proved more difficult than usual as your hands noticeably shook from all of the excitement. You made sure every line was neat and fluid before scanning the drawing into your laptop for back up.

Neither of you talked for the remainder of the process, but the silence was a comfortable one this time. Outside the rain had steadily turned into a light drizzle.

"Do you want to color it with me? You can choose the colors, obviously."

"Would I?!" Sloane grinned before catching themself. "I mean... I would love to!" They add. They couldn't help but cringe internally from being so awkward.

"You're so cute," you smile. "I mean it." You echo the sentiment that was given to you earlier.

"Aww... stop it! You're making me blush!" They grab the black color pencil and get to work coloring before they face further embarrassment.

"That's the point." You tease them gently before joining them.

The two of you color in silence before Sloane grabs the yellow color pencil. They look back up at you.

"Say, Y/N, what's your favorite color?" They ask.

"Oh. Probably [favorite color]. Why?"

"I want to do our favorite colors for the flowers."

You smile... but only for a moment. "Are you sure, though? Not to be a downer but what if you regret it in a couple years? Or meet someone else? Or get tired of me?" You frown just thinking about it.

They grow serious for a moment. You're afraid you made them angry from the expression on their face.

"Y/N. I need you to remember this when I say it now, okay?" Sloane says.

You nod nervously.

"Nothing could ever make me regret this. Nothing could ever make me regret spending time with you tonight. Nobody could ever come close to making me feel as safe and welcome as you do."

You exchange glances with them for some time afterwards. The words linger in the air and you feel your heart fluttering as they reach out and hold your hand.

"I want to spend a lot more time with you. Not just tonight. I want to see you again. And again. And again. I never want to stop seeing you, actually." They swallow their nervousness harshly before continuing. "I want to wake up next to you someday. I want to make history together with you. I want people to see our bones in thousands of years and know that I loved spending time with you. Does that answer your questions?"

You're left absolutely speechless.

They grin. "I know I said I wanted to be a mummy but it's not worth it if we can't be in the same tomb together. You know what I mean?"

All at once you feel hot tears spilling out on your cheeks like a broken dam. Your arms wrap around Sloane and you bury your face into their chest. "Oh my God!" You cry, and they wrap their arms around you in support. They softly rub your back as you continue to helplessly sob into their shirt.

"Just like Pylades said. It's not rotten work if it's you." They quote.

The rain continues drizzling outside. All is quiet once more as they pull you into the most comforting hug you've ever been given in your entire life.

"Come on. Let's watch a movie together." They pick you up bridal style and lay you down on the couch. "What do you want to watch?"

"Hm... can we watch [favorite movie]?" You suggest.

They nuzzle their face into yours and give you a kiss on the cheek. "Sounds good to me!"

The finished skull artwork lays unattended on the coffee table as the two of you snuggle underneath the cover of a soft blanket. They wrap themself around you carefully and nuzzle into you once again. Your head presses up against their chest and you listen quietly to their racing heart as you both gently descend into sleep.

Just outside, the rain has finally stopped.

#god help me but i might continue this...#venture x reader #venture overwatch #sloane cameron #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you #overwatch fanfiction #overwatch #overwatch 2

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