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#it's not IMPOSSIBLE but it's so much work
milqueandsugar · 2 days
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🌼☕` Wearing His Clothes`☕🌼
Gen / Fluff
Includes / Alastor , Lucifer
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| ALASTOR |
If Alastor could spend every evening like this, he would. A warm hellish day, a pleasant breeze that made the usual sulphuric smell that lingered in the air tolerable, and most of all, you by his side. The scarlet parasol you carried over your shoulder sifted the dying rays of the sun into a glorious red. If Alastor could devour an image he'd have this walk on a plate.
"Have I ever mentioned how marvelous you are in red?" The static of his voice crackled to life, so did the blood in your cheeks. "Very, very often." You tease, his grin widens. "Oh so not nearly enough."
You were working up a come back when something heavy dropped onto your shoulders. It smelled of chicory and black coffee, it smelled of Alastor. You poked your head up out of a collar, his collar. You stared up at your lover who twirled the parasol you must have dropped in hid hand. Spinning the red refracted light around the both if you like a kelidoscope.
"You are darling in red, I'll have to ring up Rosie to get you one of your own."
"Matching outfits Alastor? Tattoos next?"
"I was thinking rings, but by the by."
Alastor is definitely a possessive character but I don't think that translates at all to you wearing his clothes
He's actually quite protective of them, he's as particular as he is possessive and it has to be some sort of gesture for him to lend it to you
He especially holds off on lending clothes to you if you make it know you like it, just for teasing purposes of course!
He only truly lends you his bow tie or jacket and only, of course, on his terms
He finds it endearing, how flattered or excited you are at something as simple as a coat, though he holds this little secret close to his chest
It's not as fun if you can tease him back!
Due to his more animalistic tendencies/physicality he is particularly sensitive to smell
If you REALLY want to rile him up use his cologne or soap, it might take a day or two but it's impossible not to notice his increase in physical affection
Once he registers that wearing his clothes is another, far more subtle way of having you smell like him he'll be far more generous with lending you garments.
| LUCIFER |
Every few months you cleaned out the closet, Lucifer liked to buy things, you liked to wear things, both of you were terrible for over filling your closet. He was out for a day out with Charlie, which made things easier. You loved him truly but he made tossing things out difficult, it was too pretty or to cute, to sexy for him to part with. He wasn't wrong, he had an excellent eye for picking clothes you liked, but at this rate you'd need to buy a new home to accommodate for the mass amounts of clothes!
It was when putting the keeps back when you noticed it, his hat. A hat you both loved and hated, the golden snake around its brim gleaned in the light. You snatched it from the shelf at the top of the closet. Your surprised he didn't bring it today, he wore it always, especially when with Charlie. You wondered if she liked it, or if she liked it when she was a kid and bright colours were like moths to light.
You step over to stand in front of the floor length mirror. It felt like a normal hat, of beautiful craftsmanship of course, but just a normal hat. You couldn't see why he was obsessed with the thing. You felt a little silly wearing it, you felt even sillier when a snort sounded from behind you.
"Oh so that's where my hat went"
He thinks it's cute!!
He's confident so he doesn't see any real need to mark or claim you, he knows he loved you, and he knows you love him just as much!
Absolutely pleased to lend you clothes!
If it becomes a habit of yours he even goes out of his way to pick up clothes he thinks both of you will like
Turns into a fun shopping activity!
Be fully prepared for him to start stealing your clothes too though this is a two way street
Maybe it's for the best too he's got no style let's be honest
Absolutely tortures you if he discovers you think it's hot, wears your clothes out, wears your clothes in private, when your on a date
Good luck, they're pretty much his now
No hiding if you dress more feminely either he's not afraid of rocking a mini skirt
The act itself doesn't do anything but seeing you so excited about it?? That does it for him
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55szn · 2 days
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lacy - mv1
max verstappen x fem!driver!reader
summary yn can't keep hiding her true feelings towards max
wc 1,6 k (i was supposed to keep it short for this one but oh well)
warnings this one angsty as fuuuck, reader kinda sucks sorry
a/n first post of this series omg i'm so excited!!!!!! i haven't written in a while so this may not be the best of my works but this is still one of my favorites <33 also english is not my first language so...yeah
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YN sighed as she pulled the balaclava off and immediately ran her hand through her sweaty hair, attempting to make it look decent. Once again she was finishing behind Max. The Dutch looked back at her as he got down from the top of his car and gave her a sweet smile, she tried her best to reciprocate that smile but it probably looked as fake as it felt.
She couldn't really pinpoint when her rotten mind had started to harbor these feelings towards the man she loved.
YN's first encounter with Max occurred when they were barely teenagers, amid the noisy circuits of karting competitions. There was something captivating in that lanky and slightly awkward teenager that drew YN to him like a magnet. As time went on, their bond deepened, among endless talks of shared dreams that seemed unreachable at the time.
The first time Max kissed YN, she felt in heaven, enveloped in a kind of excitement she had never known. It didn't take long before he asked her to be his girlfriend and she accepted thinking life couldn't get better than that.
The mutual decision to keep their relationship under wraps seemed obvious, a conscious choice made as they started their parallel journeys into Formula 1, that was not the kind of attention they were seeking.
She felt true happiness for Max's overwhelming success, she truly did, at least at the beginning.
But YN found herself caught in the shadow of his success, a place she hadn't anticipated occupying. Eventually every podium celebration and victory lap, served as a bitter reminder of the expectations she was failing to meet. She couldn't acknowledge these feelings so she masked this resentment beneath a facade of congratulatory smiles and kisses. The press was no help. They endlessly compared their careers and although YN had managed to get some satisfying results, she was nowhere near Max's level. They ate it up, it gave them good headlines to pit them against the other. They were the embodiment of a tantalizing narrative – two very young drivers with great success in the lower categories, shared dreams and a seemingly unbreakable "friendship", both coming into F1 with good teams and high expectations but only one of them was reaching those expectations. It was a good story, sure. But the story was tearing YN apart.
Perhaps the tipping point arrived with a very specific headline, its words forever etched into her brain: "Max Verstappen: Vettel reincarnate." With each syllable, YN's throat constricted, her stomach twisting into knots. Max seemed to effortlessly get everything she ever yearned for, now he was getting put at the same level as her biggest idol and inspiration which proved to be too much to handle for her. And with each of his accomplishments the poisonous seed of envy took root within her heart.
It was so contradictory, when she finally admitted it to herself. She loved Max more than she loved herself and maybe that was the root of the problem, her own insecurities and bruised ego. But it was becoming impossible to fake a smile every time she saw him on that top step. She knew it wasn't true but she almost felt like Max was out to get her.
She hated Max. And she hated herself for that fact. How could one harbor so much love and hatred for someone at the same time?
She was loosing her mind, her fragile facade crumbling under the weight of her emotions. Of course the ever attentive eyes of the press and the fans noticed the way her once adoring glances towards Max were now replaced with icy stares. How she couldn't even make the effort to raise the corners of her mouth whenever Max complimented her skills or her racing. His tenders words of admiration which once felt like a warm summer breeze began to feel like bullets grazing her already wounded skin, they felt like mockery. It was only a matter of time until Max started noticing this too.
Something was clearly happening, and that's why he found himself knocking on her apartment's door late at night, the echoes of the particularly hard weekend YN had endured still reverberating through his mind. The bitter taste of failure and disappointment still lingered on her lips. YN had struggled with the car and couldn't even make it out of Q3, and Sunday's race offered little reprieve, finishing in a P11 that tasted of unfulfilled expectations. While, of course, Max had made a brilliant pole position and had won the race, once again making everyone worship the ground he walked on. He hadn't seen YN since the race finished. She flew back to Mónaco that same night without even letting him know and without even asking if he wanted to fly back with her, which was the case almost every weekend. Max wasn't stupid, he could tell something was up with her lately, the distance she was putting between them, he was loosing her. And he loved her too much to let her go without a fight.
The door creaked open, YN's figure against the dim lighting within. Her jealous eyes clouded with heavy feelings. She stepped aside wordlessly, allowing Max to enter, her silence was louder that any word could ever be.
He carefully walked in, the all too familiar environment of his girlfriend's apartment suddenly feeling cold and foreign. Max was tense before taking a seat on the armrest of her couch. His heart felt heavy, he already wanted to cry. He had trouble getting the words out, something that had never happened in the years he had known YN. What had they become?
He swallowed dry before finally finding his voice. "I think we need to have a talk." His gaze was pleading for her to meet his eyes, but she kept staring at her shoes.
She froze at his words and her fingers tightened around the edge of the table she was leaning against. She could tell this conversation was coming, yet she dreaded the flood of emotions threatening to consume her, scared of the things she could say.
"What is it, Max?" Her voice was strained, an inner battle developing inside her, trying to control her emotions.
"You know what it is about, schat." Her jaw tightened at the pet name, now it somehow sounded condescending, even though deep down she knew that wasn't true. "YN something's been bothering you lately. I know it. Please talk to me."
YN's heart clenched painfully at his words, her resolve crumbling under the weight of her own inner turmoil. How could she even begin to articulate the burning envy and resentment that coursed through her veins every time she looked at him? How could she admit out loud to hating the man she loved more than life itself?
When she finally looked up and met his stare she felt the monstrous feeling that had been gnawing at her conscience completely engulf her and she wasn't in control of her own words anymore. Her eyes burning with a contradictory mix of longing and loathing. "Are you seriously asking me that, Max?" Her voice trembled with suppressed emotion.
Max recoiled at the intensity of her stare and her tone, a sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach by the anticipatory feeling of his world crumbling down completely. "YN, I..."
"You know damn well what's going on." YN's voice cracked with emotion, her words laced with a bitterness that made it unrecognizable to both of them. "You have everything, Max. The wins, the championships, the adoration of the whole fucking world. Everything I ever wanted, you took it for yourself." She knew she wasn't making sense, the words were spilling out of her mouth before she had the time to catch them.
Max's heart constricted with an unfair amount of guilt. "YN, I... I had no idea you felt this way."
"And why would you?" She retorted, her voice rising with each word. "You're too busy basking in your own glory to notice how much it's killing me to be constantly compared to you." That wasn't his fault, and she knew it. It was the pure and evil hatred that consumed her that was speaking those words.
He felt like he had been punched in the gut. "I'm sorry." He shouldn't have to apologize for what he accomplished after years and years of hard work, yet he did, the fear of loosing her bigger than the need to acknowledge his self worth.
The hurt mirroring in his eyes was obvious, her tone softened before she spoke again. "You don't have to apologize, Max. You deserve it, you deserve it so much. I know that and you should too." She took a sharp breath in. "But knowing that doesn't change how I feel. I...I hate you."
He looked at her, stunned. His heart plummeted to his stomach. Her words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of their meaning.
"I do. I hate you Max. I hate you for being able to get everything I've only ever dared to dream of." She couldn't believe she was admitting it to Max's face, breaking the heart of the man she claimed to love.
Max felt as though the ground had been ripped out from under him, the sting of her words cutting deeper than any wound ever could. "I can't believe you're saying this," he mumbled, his voice chocked.
"I wish I didn't have to Max but I can't bear to keep lying to your face. I wish I could just pretend like everything's okay, like I'm still happy for you. But I can't, I'm sorry." YN's voice cracked with the weight of her confession, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked at him with a strange mix of love and loathing. "I love you too much to keep lying to you."
The silence was sepulcral, years and years of shared moments full of love completely destroyed by the sick envy that had infected YN.
But the truth is, their love was doomed from the beginning.
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To Feel At Home
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Winnowing out from Under the Mountain, you know you need to find him—it doesn't seem real, to feel so at home.
Word count: 1.1k
Warnings: Angst
a/n: A little angsty piece because I can't stop writing for some reason. I hope you enjoy :)
Main Masterlist ♡
~~
On shaking legs, you pressed forward. Rhysand was still at the Moonstone Palace—still in Mor’s arms and coping with the impossible. You had made to stay, but Mor had given you a shake of her head that conveyed more than any words could have.
Mustering up the morsel of power that had returned to you after Amarantha’s death, you winnowed to Velaris. 
Not in a good spot. You hadn’t had access to your power in over five decades and much of Rhysand’s wards were still in place. Given the circumstances, getting yourself to some random alley at the edge of Velaris was a feat. 
The sun was blinding, invading your senses that had gotten so used to the darkness Under the Mountain. You brought a hand up to cover your eyes and trekked on.
No more winnowing. 
You had tried—it hadn’t worked. 
As you walked, stumbling through families taking strolls and having normal days, you searched within you for that golden thread. It had been absent for longer than it had been alive, your time as mates barely reaching a decade before your disappearance. 
You sifted through the pain and grief and loneliness, desperate for the relief you would find once you felt the weight of him. 
Nothing yet. 
He had to know things had changed Under the Mountain. Even amidst the secrecy and the hiding, you knew he would check.  His shadows would cross continents to find you. 
But—you stressed, as you made it to a main road lined with cobblestones—that could mean he went there. Azriel could be under that mountain at this very moment, searching through the fae still sorting out their lives before they went home. 
And you were here. 
You had no reason to panic. 
You were home, safe, alive; you had more reason to feel at peace than you had in the last 50 years. But if Azriel wasn’t here… 
Your breath came out in short pants as your fingers found purchase on a wall. But you kept going, kept watching your feet as they stumbled past each other, just to have the chance of seeing him. 
There were no shadows yet. 
They always found you first. 
You weren't sure how much time had passed—seconds, minutes, hours all lost their meaning under Amarantha—but the shadow of the mountain that held your home was soon cast over your body. You gasped out uneven breaths and pressed a hand to the towering figure, to the entrance that held the ten thousand steps you had every intention of climbing. 
Your body would surely fail. 
The last five decades had not been kind. 
With a determination fueled solely by desperation and hope, you began the tunneled pathway to the harrowing climb, but then you stopped at the entryway. 
A broken rendition of your name met your ears, so cracked and ruined you could have passed it off for something else. 
But you knew that voice, the way the vowels flowed and connected. 
Another broken sound permeated the air, this time from your own lips. 
You couldn’t look. You wanted to, ached to, but you couldn’t. So much anticipation led up to this moment. And you were different now, a fraction of the person you had been all those years ago. 
“Y/n, my love, look at me,” Azriel begged, the lowest you’d ever heard him speak. But you hadn’t heard him speak in so long, so perhaps you were misremembering. “Please.” 
You couldn’t. 
Moving was impossible. 
Your legs began to shake at the sound of footsteps, and then your knees gave out. 
A loud sound vibrated against the tunnel walls as your hands slapped against the floor. On the ground, steps away from the only person who could fix this, your waterline filled with tears. 
But you didn’t have time to second-guess or run or wonder if this was all too much. You were gathered into a strong pair of arms, pressed into a firm chest that smelled like home, and tears made paths down your cheeks. They flowed in damp trails in silence, Azriel holding you closer and closer until you weren’t sure space existed between you. 
His nose pressed into your hair. 
His chest rose and fell in uneven patterns. 
More silence. You felt your body begin to rock gently back and forth. 
This wasn’t real—it couldn’t be. 
You had resigned yourself to never seeing him again many years ago. Even as you ran through the streets of Velaris without your breath or your reasonable mind, you hadn’t expected to find him. This was a dream, Azriel wasn’t here, it was only a cruel play on your mind. 
Someone was trying to hurt you, and it was working. 
Maybe Amarantha had finally gotten Rhys to crack. 
Maybe this was his doing, his manipulation of your deepest hopes. 
Something was moving against your ear, soft and rushed and incoherent. A hand smoothed back your hair. You kept rocking. 
“You’re okay.” Words filtered through ringing. “You’re okay. You’re okay. I’m here.” 
Over and over. On a loop. 
Something encased you. Darkness followed—you were used to darkness. 
The pattern of the words lulled your heart back to a normal rate. Tears continued to fall. Your breath was shaky. 
“I love you so much,” Azriel broke the repetition, shocking your system. “I love you. I love you—” 
A sob wracked your body, the first real sound to leave your mouth. Azriel shushed you in response, but when he buried his face in your neck you felt the wetness of his own cheeks. 
This had to be real, it had to. There was no other alternative. You wouldn't survive feeling this way just to be thrust back into that nightmare. 
It had to be real, it had to—
“It is,” Azriel choked out. He pulled back, your face in his hands, his expression conveying a picture of pain and love and disbelief. “It’s real, angel. Gods, you’re so beautiful. I never thought I’d—” Words cut off and restarted. “I tried so hard to get to you.” 
His forehead met yours. 
This was real. 
You felt the shadows wisp along your skin. 
You could never feel them in dreams. 
“I missed you,” you croaked, voice so unused to the words. “So much.” 
Azriel squeezed his eyes shut only to open them after not even a breath. Desperate not to lose sight of you. Anguished at the thought of missing the picture of you in his arms. 
“I’ve missed you more.”
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ohdeerfully · 2 days
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omg hi! I love your writing! I had an alastor x reader request for an idea I can’t get out of my head! Imagine him and the reader secretly pining for each other as besties but just can’t admit it to each other (or themselves lmao). So alastor talks to Rosie about it and she is so shocked that he likes a girl! And after some time the reader decides to go ask Rosie for advice due to her being alastor other bestie and she kinda plays matchmaker for them!
Thank you for reading this and I hope you like the idea! No worries if not tho 💖
hi love! i split this into two parts (second part is already written and posted!), i hope that's okay! reader is also i love mutual pining its so yummy
thanks for the request!
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Mutual Dilemma (i)
Alastor x Reader part i part ii TW: none!
join my discord!
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Alastor knew plenty of things about himself and those around him—this was something of a skill he gained throughout his time in Hell as an Overlord. His all-smiles personality, at least to those that didn’t take the ‘myth’ of the Radio Demon seriously enough, earned him plenty of trusting acquaintances that provided him with constant, easy information. He was always confident in this way of things.
But you—just some seemingly ordinary demon at the Hazbin Hotel—you confused him. You made him unsure of himself. When it came to you, there were so many unknown, confusing emotions that made his mind and body swirl with discomfort. There was only one thing he could accept within himself as truth–
He hated you. 
He hated you simply for the fact that he didn’t understand you, and you made him doubt himself. Alastor was so used to picking apart the inner workings of those he came across, but everytime the two of you interacted he always found his mind lost and unable to think as if he were a drunk man. Maybe you were doing it on purpose to taunt him; you were placed here by Heaven itself to torture him.
Truthfully he wanted to avoid you at all costs in order to preserve what was left of his sanity, but as time passed it became increasingly difficult as you were aggravatingly involved with the various hotel matters. You had quickly become close friends with Charlie Morningstar herself, so where she was you were likely nearby… so it was nearly impossible to not see you everyday considering his own duties to the hotel.
Currently he had sat himself on an eccentric red armchair in the lobby, hands politely folded over his lap as he observed the conversation in front of him—Vaggie, Charlie, and you were discussing some plan to attract more residents to the hotel, sitting cross-legged by a low table. The group would rarely turn to him for any input, but that matter didn’t really bother him—he was never much help, anyway.
Every now and then Alastor would catch your eyes tentatively look away from the spread of papers on the table to take a peek at him, and each time he would stare back in his usual manner; a spreading, malicious grin and slight tilt in the head, which always made you shoot back to attention to your task. He wasn’t sure why you kept looking, though, but he just chalked it up to the typical sense of fear and anxiety demons usually felt in his presence.
He didn’t fail to notice the light pang in his chest each time he caught your eyes—a weird, twisting feeling of emotion that he couldn’t recognize. He wanted nothing more than to tear those eyes of yours right out for even looking his way since they seemed to be the culprit of the discomfort; but, at the same time, it was like a mysterious force held him incapable of laying a hand on you and cursed his body with even more of those strange feelings at the mere idea of you being hurt.
It was something he never really cared to explore too deeply within himself as he was content with simply believing it would pass with time. 
You, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to explore the strong emotions that you actually were able to recognize as love; or, something similar… love was a strong word to use when referring to the Radio Demon of all creatures in Hell.
Still, it hurt your soul to see the complete and utter lack of care towards your existence in general that he seemed to hold for you. He played friends when it mattered, which was particularly in cases like this when Charlie, Vaggie, him, and you were all trying to plan something—with mostly Charlie doing the work, you were kind of just her yes-man—but otherwise he seemed to just… avoid you. Ignore you unless it came with some benefit.
Everybody knew how the Radio Demon went about relationships, and you weren’t any less wise, but it still hurt. You could convince yourself to be happy with just a friendship with the guy, but even that was impossible when any opportunity you had to get closer to him was met with that deranged grin. You couldn’t find yourself afraid of it, though, because alongside the swimming malice in his crimson eyes there was also a hint of… confusion or doubt, like a child learning something terrifying or life-changing. Of course, maybe you were just delusional.
Charlie’s hand brushed against your arm, and you realized you had just been staring blankly at the small spread of papers on the black wooden table in front of you. You blinked a few times, startled by the sudden tug into reality, but smiled once you realized what you had been doing. You sheepishly apologized before asking her to repeat her question.
“Actually…” She said slowly while holding her knees with her hands and rocking backwards. “It’s pretty late… you seem tired. Let’s call it a night?”
“Are you sure?” You asked, stifling a yawn. You hadn’t even noticed exhaustion creeping upon you, but it seemed to swing in full force when she mentioned it. “I know this is important to you.”
“And the comfort of my guests is more important!” She stated proudly, standing up alongside her girlfriend. She held out a hand to you, which you took gratefully. You grimaced at the stiffness in your legs as you stood and placed a hand against your back as you craned your spine to crack it.
“Alright,” You sighed after Charlie urged you to get some sleep again. You waved her goodbye before her and Vaggie left the room, leaving you… and Alastor. He was getting up from the armchair just as you turned around, and you quickly tried to think of something to say, desperate for a conversation. Why was your heart beating so fast? You were going to embarrass yourself.
“You better run along, now,” Alastor said when he noticed you lingering. His voice being directed at you made goosebumps run up your arms. He had his hands folded together behind his back and he bent slightly at the waist to loom over you. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint our dear princess now, would we?”
“And you?” You asked back. You knew he didn’t really sleep, you were just hoping to make conversation. He narrowed his eyes slightly down at you.
“I’ve planned a trip to Cannibal Town,” Alastor explained with closed eyes, straightening himself to stand to his full height. He opened his eyes again to peer at you—it made you nervous to be the subject of his bright red gaze. “I have a dear friend I’ve been meaning to see.”
You nodded absently in response, Rosie’s face immediately coming to mind. You were good friends with her, and knew of the mutual connection the three of you had. You wondered briefly if you should go to her about your latest troubles. Before you could think of anything else to add to the current conversation, he bid you goodnight and briskly left the room. He seemed unnaturally hurried in his pace, but you didn’t think much of it. He had a tendency to just be a bit weird.
A breath that you didn’t even realize you were holding escaped your lungs after the large entrance doors creaked shut. You opted that yes, you were going to go talk to Rosie—tomorrow. You were growing more and more aware of just how tired you were as you stood in the silent room. Plus, maybe it would do some good to sleep on your emotions.
Alastor couldn’t comprehend the mixture of emotions in him; he was mad, frustrated, but all at the same time… endeared by you. How could he feel so much disdain and hatred for someone, yet still have some feeling of care for them? He had been able to at least reach the conclusion that he did care for you, but that didn’t explain the pit in his stomach he got every time your gaze met his.
Rosie would know, surely, or at least be able to give some insight to why he was so conflicted. She was much more in-tune with emotions and mentality and all the type of stuff that Alastor had always been so quick to push away from his care. Plus, she was the only demon in Hell that he could even open a fraction of his mind to.
It was a quick trip to Cannibal Town, his legs carrying him faster than usual. He had given a suave wave and pleasant smile to the various cannibal ladies that always swooned by his presence; something that he had never really thought twice about, but now images of you and your own smile flashed in his mind’s eye when he waved. His eyes narrowed subconsciously at the experience.
The door to Rosie’s Emporium was soon being pushed open by his hand, and he lightly stepped in, hanging his coat up on a nearby rack. It didn’t take long at all for Rosie to realize she had a guest—and even faster for her to realize who the guest was.
“Alastor!” She said cheerfully. They shared a quick embrace before she beckoned him to sit with her at a table against the wall, already prepared to start talking. She knew he only showed up when he needed something.
“My, it’s been a minute,” She observed, leaning her head on her hand. It had really only been a week at most, but Alastor decided against contradicting her.
“Truly, my darling,” He simply agreed. “I have a question.”
“Well I didn’t doubt it.”
Alastor hummed, leaning back in the chair as he tried to form a coherent explanation. How was he to describe a situation he couldn’t even begin to understand himself? Rosie was ghostly silent as she waited, her pearly teeth only slightly peeking between the light smile on her lips.
“That one demon at the hotel—a mutual friend of ours—the one that's always hanging out with Charlie and–”
“I know them,” Rosie cut him off with a waving hand, urging him to get to the actual point. There was a new, sneaky curl in her grin as he spoke with a nearly undetectable stammer in his otherwise smooth voice.
“Well… for the longest time now, it’s like I feel… weird, around them. A weird feeling in my gut that I’ve never felt before. It enrages me, and I want nothing more than to just kill them and get it out of my mind, but, at the same time…” He trailed for a moment. He felt a little embarrassed, truthfully though he would never admit it, that he was practically rambling on about some random demon. He felt like a middle school boy.
Rosie’s hand had found its way to her mouth as he spoke, blocking what Alastor assumed was either a shocked open mouth or a wide smile she didn’t want to share. She inhaled sharply, composing herself, before placing her hand back onto the table.
“Well, I’ll be. I never thought I’d see the day that the Radio Demon…” She paused for a moment and pursed her lips, carefully thinking about the next few words as if what she was going to say would blow his mind into a million pieces. Alastor furrowed his brows and tilted his head to the side expectantly and confused.
“Alastor… do you have… a crush on them?”
A comical record scratch effect sounded from Alastor’s cane as his shoulders stiffened and smile tightened all at once. He looked almost offended at the idea, but at the same time there was an odd look of uncertainty in his expression.
“What? No.”
Rosie laughed aloud at the shocked and almost angry looking expression on his face, ears flattened to their fullest extent as he struggled to maintain his cheerful demeanor. His mind wasn’t exploded into a million pieces, but his whole self-perception was definitely damaged.
Alastor, although upset, thanked her for the help, excused himself, and stood quickly to leave.  He was thankful that Rosie was understanding and didn’t try to convince him to “talk it out” or anything. The only thing she said was an invitation to lunch at a local shop the next day if he wanted to talk to her more—she would be there just in case.
Truthfully, Alastor had already started suspecting the romantic feelings building inside of him before Rosie confirmed the idea; he had just refused to fully acknowledge or even begin to accept them.
He, Alastor—The Radio Demon—had no room in his soul for trivial things like romance. Even in life he had refused to pursue the experience. So why were you suddenly an exception to this? Why did you make his heart boil with a confusing mixture of love and hate; why did your presence make his chest feel heavier and why did you, of all creatures in Hell, make him nervous? Not even the strongest Overlords that had gone against him made him nervous. 
Alastor walked back to the Hotel at a snail’s pace, dreading the return and dreading the sight of you. Now that his suspicions of emotion were confirmed by Rosie herself, he wasn’t sure how his nerves would react. Would he finally snap in frustration at how you affected him and just kill you? Part of him hoped to, but another felt ill at the mere thought.
It was late when he got back, and to his luck you were evidently asleep. He paused for the briefest moment as he passed your hotel room door, eyes trailing over the knob before he caught his senses and hurried to his own quarters. 
The familiar tranquility of his personalized, swampy room with twinkling fireflies and light cricket noises helped him clear his mind as he found a cozy spot to sit and ruminate. Maybe he would go see Rosie for lunch tomorrow.
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part ii
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amaranthineghost · 1 day
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DOUBT SEEPS INTO ME AND I CAN’T GET IT TO STOP (BUT YOU CAN) ( charles leclerc. )
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charles leclerc x reader
uncertainty plagues her mind, and self-sabotage looms over her shoulder, as if its whispering in her ear to tell her it’s a bad idea. he still manages to be the voice on top of all her doubts at the end of the day.
authors note: literally wrote this because this is how i felt while i waited for the days to pass so i could ask the guy i like for his number. mf got me feeling in love and shit, listening to mitski and lana del rey, writing fucking poems. liking a guy is the best and worst thing ever. gonna work on other things soon tho!
THE THOUGHT OF LOVE twisted her stomach into knots. even the mere thought of simply asking a guy for his number made her body churn with anxiety and the looming feeling of rejection held over her head.
relationships never lasted for her because she wouldn’t let them, the idea of getting too attached and the possibility of it shattering her heart was too great to risk it. she would watch from afar, stalk his socials, but never had the guts to approach him, or even look his way.
all throughout high school, she dreamed of a relationship that others around her had, but she lacked everything they didn’t. social skills were never her things, and confidence was something she always lacked. she just wanted to be a teenage girl in love, and she wouldn’t get that. she wasn’t sure she ever would.
she felt as though she was unloveable. even though it was so easy for her to give love, it was far harder to accept it. if anything, it was impossible for her to even imagine doing so. her trust was a thin thread that always seemed to snap. no matter how many times she tried to re-tie it, it always came back undone.
it wasn’t like she never liked any guys, boy she did, but the chase factor was a part of every single one. she never had guys come to her, and she would never go to a guy. still, she chased and chased, yet she never caught up. she worried she never would.
she worried she would never experience the thrill of being in a relationship, all because that thrill was shrouded with anxiety, uncertainty and distrust, though the distrust mostly lied within herself. deeply rooted in her brain was the idea that she wasn’t capable of ever accepting she could be loved, that someone would ever be so patient, understanding, and wanting.
she wanted it so bad, yet she felt like this. it felt stupid, she felt stupid. she felt like a walking contradiction because she couldn’t make up her mind. her heart wanted one thing, and her mind shut it out. a defense mechanism that she felt could never disable, that tinkering with it would only worsen the intensity. deep breaths only temporarily stopped the nausea that plagued her stomach, but only giving the man, the one she so desperately craved to be with, up would change how she felt.
she was a hopeless romantic at heart, but at mind, she was never going to let love in. as much as she held out her accepting arms, vines adorned with thorns grew through her veins, lacing her fingertips with sharp edges to cut back anyone who would try to get close.
the week leading up to finally getting his number went by so painfully slow; she had built herself up too high in those days. she worried she would come crumbling down before she even managed the chance of getting close. from afar she watched, glances exchanged and she gushed to her friends, but she could never be so sure that they were meant for her. after all, she was just an employee for ferrari, he was an athlete in the sport.
her friends were unsure if the brunette was the right fit for the girl, if he was even attainable at all. he was known for being a red flag among fans, he literally drives for a team based around the color red. she didn’t care, she was convinced he was right for her, but still she was scared she wasn’t his type. she knew he wasn’t taken, his entire private life, which was never even private to begin with, was broadcasted across the internet. if he had found someone new, she would know, and for now he hadn’t.
oh, she desperately wanted to be a wag. who wouldn’t? her job made it complicated though, she worked under the team, she didn’t have authority anywhere, she was a nobody. she never knew how she managed to catch his striking gaze to begin with.
she thought she would’ve looked like an idiot, an awkward, nervous girl in front of the charles leclerc, prince of ferrari. she felt like one, maybe she was, but the way he looked down at the shorter girl gave her the courage she needed to mutter the words she had thought about saying everyday for the past week.
“uh—could i get your number?” she barely managed out, she was nervous, it was evident in her tone and the way her voice was up an octave. his brunette hair and green eyes were enchanting, she had fantasized about him for that week. she even went as far as making a playlist to listen to to occupy her time, laying around when she wasn’t at her job. she had never been this lovesick for a guy in her entire life until she first laid eyes on him.
the sick feeling in her stomach became all too familiar, she hated it at first, but now she began to feel comfort in the sickness, and began to miss it over the weekend. the mopey love feeling of hopelessness while listening to lana del rey, or mitski. the fantasization of how the scenario would play out in her favor etched itself into her brain.
the moment of silence was harsh, she could feel the rejection coming. she braced herself for it, holding her breath.
he looked down at her with those damn eyes, a certain gleam in the light reflection over his pupils, part of her knew his response before he did. a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he pursed his lips to hide the smile forcing its way on his face.
he couldn’t deny the pretty girl in front of him, he could tell she dolled herself up for this, for him. he wouldn’t let her efforts go to waste, but that wasn’t the sole reason he didn’t reject her. her confidence sparked something inside of him.
he had plenty of girls who threw themselves at him, buying him drinks, or whatever they could to get their hands on him and themselves in his bed. she was different, a breath of fresh air in the fog. her awkward nervousness was endearing. he hadn’t meant to leave her hanging so long, but he admired her.
his smile brightened, looking down at the phone she clutched so tightly, her skin began turning white. “of course, darling.”
she certainly hadn’t expected to hear the words and yet she did. she was so unprepared, scrambling through her phone. should she write it in her notes app? should she go ahead and shoot him a text? what should she send? should she send a ‘hi’ text? should she send him an imessage game? the music she had listened to throughout the week hadn’t prepared her for this.
his brow raised at her, his arms crossed in front of him as he watched her panic slightly. he was so patient, waiting for her cue that she was ready to take his number and save it in her phone. he recited the string of numbers to her and she smiled internally. she was so giddy inside, yet she couldn’t show it. she couldn’t show how much this excited her, but she would talk her friend’s ear off at her actions because for once she had done something to take a step forward towards a relationship she wanted.
“thank you!” she squeaked out, mentally facepalming—she sounded a little too grateful for something as simple as his phone number. she couldn’t wait to run far away and into the corner of her work office, hiding behind her job position.
he smiled as she scurried off, looking at his phone as it lit up at the movement. he knew to expect the text from the girl later, not now though, because he could feel the nervousness radiating from her body.
later that night, he had received the very text he had been waiting to see. an unsaved number with a blank contact photo he knew was her without reading the contents of the message. his stomach fluttered at the words in the texts, and the following imessage game, 8 ball. it was oh, so endearing to him.
the text contained a simple ‘hiii’ and a simple reminder that she was the girl who asked for his number—as if he had been handing his number out to other people. he texted back, it was simple enough because he didn’t want to scare her off, but he also didn’t want her to overwhelm with worry that he just wasn’t interested in her. he was.
simple texts throughout the day, telling each other what they’re doing, company lunches whenever they had time. flying her out to watch his races, inviting her to his driver's room to watch the race from there because the possibility of their relationship becoming a reality was just a secret for now. the entire process he was just so understanding, it baffled her. he was gentle, like a dog laying their head in your lap, so blissful and light. days he would lay across a couch with his head in her lap as he let her mess with the strands of his dark, brunette hair. she commented on different, potential haircuts his mother could give him and he chuckled at the ridiculous ones she suggested.
something so simple showed her the trust he gave her, the trust he was slowly earning.
slowly, they hung out more. instead of spending his time in clubs after podiums, he spent time with her in his drivers room, or a restaurant about to close—he would leave a hefty tip for the inconvenience.
eventually, she would appear in his garage, watching with a headset on her ears, simply posing as a ferrari employee holding more importance than she really did—except to charles, she held all the importance in the world.
she never knew how he didn’t get pricked by the thorns adorning her body, how not a scratch tainted his even skin, not a drop of blood.
maybe it was because he knew that behind the thorns that laced her body, waiting was a rose. a reward so sacred and so fragile. to be shielded from the world in his very arms was her trust, her love, her mind, her thoughts, her everything.
in his arms, she felt everything she longed for; security, openness, trust, loyalty. he showed her what her heart was worth.
taglist (found here): @decafmickey @slut4lrh @kaa12 @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @nhlfs @beskardroids @hiireadstuff @lorenica @delululeclerc @c-losur3 @casperlikej @thearchieves @soamericn
proofread by @foreveralbon <333
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roosterforme · 4 hours
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Aim for the Sky Part 4 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley can't help himself. When he sees cute things for his baby, he buys them. When he craves you as much as you crave him, he makes a complete mess in the garage. Pregnancy bliss is taking his domestic bliss to a new level as he tries to plan the perfect first anniversary outing.
Warnings: Fluff, smut, cum play, swearing, pregnancy
Length: 4100 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
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"What are all these boxes from?"
Your husband clearly didn't hear you come in from work by the look of things. He was still in his flight suit, desperately emptying cardboard box after cardboard box onto the dining room table. When he turned toward you, his eyes were wide like you'd just caught him doing something he shouldn't be. "I have no idea," he said, quickly picking up a smaller one and rushing your way. "This one has your name on it."
You were still trying to look past him into the dining room while he actively blocked you. "Are you joking right now? Oh my god, you went on a shopping spree!"
His cheeks were tinted pink, and he looked like he was going to burst at the seams as he blurted out, "It's for the Nugget!"
"When did you even have time to buy it?" you asked in exasperation. "You just got home on Friday!"
He was raking his fingers through his hair. "There was a special on two-day shipping, and as soon as we found out it's a girl, I started adding things to my shopping cart."
His gaze was sweet and earnest, but you chucked the box you were holding and ducked around him before he could stop you. Then you gasped. There was baby clothing, a folded up pack 'n play, bibs, bottles, and a baby carrier all spread out on the table.
"Do I need to take your credit card away?" you asked him, but even you weren't immune to the little pink onesie that said Daddy's Co-pilot.
"I can behave," he promised. "I'm just excited."
You groaned and looked at his face as he picked up the baby carrier. It was impossible to be annoyed with him right now, and at least it was a bunch of things you were going to need. You nodded toward the hallway and asked, "Do you want to start getting the nursery ready in a few weeks?"
Suddenly you were pinned up against the side of the piano with the carrier pressed between your body and his while he kissed you senseless. "Yes," he whispered against your lips. "Please. Pastel airplanes and clouds." He had mentioned it so many times, you already knew he was still thinking about it. 
"Anything you want."
He kissed you one last time and said, "I want my little girl to have the cutest nursery ever, and I want my wife to still agree to cook me dinner after she sees the credit card bill."
Your stomach started growling at the mention of food. "I'm starving," you admitted. "Clean everything up, and I'll work on dinner."
He sprang into action while you unbuttoned your uniform shirt which was way too snug now. You even unbuttoned your pants. You started heating up the chicken casserole that you made and froze while Bradley was deployed before cutting open the box that arrived with your name on it. You already knew what was in it, but you still cringed when you saw it.
The United States Navy maternity uniform was one of the ugliest articles of clothing you'd ever seen in your entire life. You looked out the window at the partially built playset in the backyard and whispered, "You're lucky I love you, little Nugget. Because now I have to wear a weird tent to work for the next four months."
It was too ugly to think about right now. Your stomach was growling relentlessly, so you cut up some carrot sticks and poured out a little bit of the hot sauce you brought back with you from dinner in Del Mar last night. "Mmm, that's so fucking good," you groaned, biting into a carrot stick you dipped into the sauce. You cut up another carrot into sticks and tried to get them as saturated as you could before eating them.
The baby was moving around a lot now as you ate your snack. "Jesus," Bradley grunted, and you turned to see that he had changed into some gym clothes.
"Want some?" you asked, as you dipped more into the hot sauce. A drop landed on your chest above your bra before it made it to your mouth, and Bradley was there to lick it up in an instant.
"Is this some sort of pregnancy craving?" he asked, and you smiled as you fed him the carrot stick. "And are you going to eat in your bra all the time now?"
"Why? Do you like it or something?"
He gave you a stern look and ran his thumb over your lace covered nipple. "Come on, Sweetheart. Your tits make me hard on a regular day, but right now they are doing a little something extra, and you know it."
"My favorite bra barely fits right now," you informed him as you reached for another carrot. "And my maternity uniform arrived." But you could tell he was hardly listening now as he kissed along your bra strap while the kitchen timer told you dinner was ready. "I could model it for you after we eat."
"Absolutely," he whispered as Tramp trotted in, ready to be fed too. They both gave you puppy eyes until they had their food in front of them. Bradley pulled you down onto his lap and offered to share his plate of dinner with you, but you mostly ate the carrot sticks. You were almost tempted to drink some of the hot sauce, so yes, this probably was a pregnancy craving. What you really wanted was to dip some marshmallows into it...
"Baby Girl, I'm going to go work out in the garage," Bradley said, pulling you from your food fantasy. He rubbed his hand along your bare belly and up to your breasts. "Meet me out there if you want. I'll clean the kitchen later."
You watched him slip out the sliding glass door and head for the garage. In fifteen minutes, he would be all sweaty. His skin would be slick to the touch. He would taste incredible. Yeah, you were obviously going to go meet him out there. In the meantime, you should probably try on your maternity uniform. 
You wrinkled your nose as you carried it to your bedroom. The pants were nice and stretchy, and they felt comfortable. The shirt had ample room for your belly, and it would definitely accommodate you in your third trimester as well. "Let's have a look," you said to your daughter, but when you glanced in the mirror, you gasped. "Fuck!"
Oh, it was so much worse than you imagined it would be. You laughed to keep from crying as you tried to come to terms with this khaki monstrosity. Your butt looked weird, and there was just so much fabric. You tried to tuck the shirt in, but somehow that was worse. 
After you slipped some shoes on, you made the trek out to the garage and stood in the open doorway, admiring your husband for a few minutes while he listened to his gym playlist and did some bicep curls. Then he dropped down to the mat and did fifty push ups while you tried not to moan. You almost forgot why you were there, but then he got to his feet, wiped his forehead with a towel, and jumped a bit when he finally saw you.
"What the fuck are you wearing?"
"Bradley!" you whined. "Is it really that bad?" You knew the question was almost laughable. The answer was clearly yes. But your husband scrambled over to you with an apologetic look on his face anyway.
"You're still beautiful," he insisted, taking both of your hands in his. "I just wasn't expecting you to be wearing this... uniform."
You let him kiss you, but you rolled your eyes and said, "I'm going to have to hide in my office at work until March."
"Okay," he finally said, "it's hideous, to be sure. But I see plenty of officers wearing them on base. And if anything, you make it look a lot better than it really has any right to." Your laughter must have encouraged him, because he wrapped you up in a delightfully sweaty hug and led you to his weight bench. "Wanna watch me do lunges? I'm practicing for the Nugget."
"You're practicing?" you asked as you settled down on the narrow bench. 
He was already strapping the baby carrier around his torso and clicking it into place. Then he picked up one of his ten pound bench press weights and slipped it into place where a baby should go. You wanted to laugh at how ridiculous he was, but when he looked at you and lunged down into a squat, you moaned and had to press your thighs together instead.
"Yeah," he grunted. "I'm practicing for when I get to wear my little Nugget around. Actually, do you think we should be calling her Nuggette?"
Once again, his words were comical, but the way he was doing reps of lunges like he was cradling a tiny baby's head with his hand instead of a metal weight left you whimpering.
"Nuggette sounds cute, too," you told him, rubbing your belly through your hideous maternity shirt. She was squirming a bit as you said, "I don't think she's picky about what you call her, Roo. She's just very excited whenever you're around."
He lunged down one more time before getting on his knees on the mat in front of you, removing the weight from the carrier and setting it on the floor. "Is that true?" he asked as he scooted a little closer. He smelled like clean sweat, and his body was radiating heat as he started to kiss your belly through your shirt. "You love Daddy?" he asked, running his nose gently against your bump.
His fingers found the hem of your shirt and eased it up so he had full access, kissing the spot next to your belly button. You brushed his damp hair back from his forehead and moaned, "We both love Daddy."
"Hey," he whispered as he started to unbutton your shirt. "I really want to fuck you, but this thing is a mood killer."
"Bradley!"
"I'm so serious," he told you, shaking his head. "We need to get this tent off of you immediately."
"You're so rude," you said with a laugh as he finally pushed the fabric down your arms and tossed it to the floor.
"That's what I'm talking about," he grunted, unhooking your bra and tossing that aside as well. Then he was still on his knees with his mouth on your breasts, and suddenly you could barely remember your own name.
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Something about pregnancy cast a magic spell on your tits, and if left uninterrupted, Bradley could have happily sucked on them all night long. They were bigger, sure, but they were somehow a little firmer, too. And he couldn't understand it, but they were warmer and smelled so sweet. And your fucking nipples looked a bit bigger and were always furled into pretty little peaks that made his dick so hard, he could barely keep from touching himself.
He was moaning for you, on his knees in the garage while he licked and sucked to his heart's content. His left hand was stroking the underside of your breast while his right was stroking his cock in time with the way you were whining, "Brad-ley. Brad-ley." Your fingers were in his hair, and he was in absolutely no hurry to fuck you, but he was slightly afraid he was going to cum within the next few minutes.
So he carefully pushed you down onto your back on the bench and pulled those ugly as sin maternity pants off of your gorgeous body, yanked your underwear to the side, and ran his cock through your soaking wet pussy. 
"Fuck, Sweetheart." As soon as he pushed himself inside you with a little snap of his hips, your tits bounced for him. Mesmerized, he did it again. 
"Roo," you whined, trying to find something to hold onto as he fucked you a little harder with his hands cupping your bump.
"Yeah," he crooned, ramming himself deep, thankful he'd already removed the bar and the weights. "You better hang on tight."
He fucked you until you were a screaming mess, gripping the bench above your head for support. He'd never let anything happen to you or the baby, but it was delicious watching you scramble like this as he rocked the bench. The grip of your pussy as you arched your back and pressed your bump into his palms had him clenching his jaw, holding back as long as he could.
"Oh, fuck!" he shouted, pulling out of you while you were mid orgasm and shooting his load all over your belly and chest. "Jesus Christ," he panted, standing while straddling you on the bench, jerking himself off all over those tits.
You looked like you were in a daze as you reached one hand up, grasped his sensitive cock, and dragged it through the mess. Then you leaned up and kept eye contact with him while you licked his cock clean. He was literally twitching, hands folded behind his head as he stood there and let you rub his cock along your nipples again and again before setting him on your plush tongue.
He had to clear his throat a few times before he could manage to say, "I'm really happy you decided to join me for my workout."
Your pretty laughter filled the garage as he helped you sit up. Once you were dressed in his sweaty shirt with your awful uniform in your hand, he followed you out the door, across the backyard and directly to the shower.
"I don't know what happened here," he rasped, rubbing his rough hand all over your soapy tits, "but I love it."
Your eyes were closed, lips softly parted as you whispered, "I'm pretty sure it's just pregnancy boobs, Roo."
"And I'm pretty sure I've never cum quite that much before. You were fucking covered in it."
He had to kiss the smirk off your face so the two of you could finish showering and get in bed. "Hey," you murmured as you draped your arm across his chest. "You haven't read any of the Nugget notebook to me since you got home."
Bradley ran his fingers along your shoulder. "I could read some of it to you now," he whispered before reaching to get the pink and blue notebook from his nightstand. He wanted you to read it. He wanted you to know everything he wrote in there, but there was one page he didn't want you to see quite yet. "Have you thought any more about baby names?" he asked as he opened the notebook.
"A little bit," you said with a yawn. "Nothing I'm totally crazy about though."
Be breathed a sigh of relief and started reading out loud. He could wait for the perfect moment to mention it, and he thought that perfect moment might be on your anniversary.
---------------------------
For the rest of the week, you absolutely refused to wear your maternity uniform to work. You wore Bradley's extra shirt instead, affixing your own insignia pins and name tag to it each morning.
"You're out of dress code," he told you for the hundredth time on Friday morning.
"I don't care," you replied as you ate a granola bar covered in mustard while you both rode to work in the blue Bronco. "If I can go one last week or two before I have to start wearing the uncomfortable tent, then that's all that matters."
Bradley laughed, and you glared playfully at him. "It's not that bad, Baby Girl. I can still get a boner with you in it."
"You could still get a boner if I was wearing a tarp."
He was quiet for a beat before he moaned and asked, "Would the tarp be the same shade of blue as the Bronco? Because yeah, I might actually like that."
"See?" you replied before popping the rest of the bar into your mouth and chewing it up. You'd been craving weird food combinations all week, and honestly the best part of your days was visiting the cafeteria where you could combine whatever you wanted into the perfect meal.
"Hey, don't forget, I won't be at lunch today," Bradley said casually. Had he mentioned that before? You weren't sure. You were starting to have bouts of forgetfulness and brain fog.
"Where are you going again?"
"Uh," he hesitated. "Well I have to go see Nicole."
Nicole was the name on the list you found in the kitchen. Something about a permit. He said he'd never met her and didn't know who she even was. "Why?"
He coasted into a parking spot as he sighed. "It's something for our anniversary. Remember?" He turned and looked at you with those big brown eyes and asked, "Can we please let this be a surprise? I've got some shit planned for that day."
Your parents weren't coming out for Thanksgiving, and the two of you weren't going to Maryland. When you called them a few days ago to let them know the baby was a girl, your mom erupted into joyous screams before starting to cry because she wasn't going to see you until Christmas. Instead, you were planning on having a quiet Thanksgiving at home in the craftsman with Jake, Cat and Jeremiah. So if Bradley wanted to plan something special for later that weekend, you didn't mind.
"Yeah. It can be a surprise, Roo." 
He looked relieved when you leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, and then he held your hand and walked you all the way to the elevator where he leaned in close. "I'll see you and your tits after work," he whispered, earning him a swat on the arm. He was laughing as he placed a big hand on your belly and said, "Love you, Nugget." 
Then you rode the elevator up to your office where you dipped a second granola bar into the container of maple syrup you brought with you and ate it before heading to your lab. You bumped into Maria in the hallway, and when you tried to say hi, she kept rushing by.
"I don't have time to talk," she said. "Bob keeps making me late for work."
You stood there in surprise for a second before you called out, "I mean, good for you though." Your hormones were an absolute mess, because by the time you walked into your own research lab, you were trying to get the image of Bob and Maria doing some nasty shit with his D&D dice out of your head. "Why am I like this right now?" you asked with a grimace.
"Like what?" Cat asked as you sat down next to her. "You're out of dress code." Then her expression melted as she said, "I swear you get bigger every day. You look so cute."
You opened your computer and casually asked, "You think you and Jake will have more kids?"
You were just trying to mess with her, but she cradled her face in her hands and groaned. "He wants to get married."
Your eyes went wide as you spun to face her. "Really? Do you? He's so good with Jeremiah."
"I can't," she whispered, looking around. "I'm still in so much debt. He's already paying for Jer's daycare on base now, and he's paying for a lawyer for me. If we get married, he'll try to pay off everything."
You shrugged. "So get a prenup or something. He loves you and Jer, and you cease to be a hardass now that he's around."
She started to spin away from you, obviously done indulging your antics, but then she said, "Can we keep this between the two of us?"
"Who would I even tell?" you asked as you typed your password.
"Your husband. And he'd tell Jake. And then Jake would come storming in here like a knight ready to save the day once again, and I don't want that."
She wasn't wrong, and you knew it. "Yeah, my lips are sealed. You're still coming for Thanksgiving dinner, right?"
"Just as long as you let me help you cook."
"One again, something I can't trust Bradley with," you muttered. "Deal."
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Nicole was honestly lovely. She had everything ready for Bradley to sign when he got there, and then she made some quick photocopies and sent him on his way. Perfect. The permit was in order, and now he just needed to take care of the food and figure out where to buy non-alcoholic champagne, if it even existed. But he had another full week to think about that.
When he got back to work right after lunch, he headed for the lounge to wait until he was called up by someone in the tower. The room was empty except for Nat and Bob who were eating popcorn and sleeping on the couch respectively.
"Want some?" his best friend asked, and he shoved his hand into the kernels.
"What's wrong with him?"
Nat turned to look at Bob. "Oh, he's worn out from too much sex."
"Love that for him," he muttered before shoving the popcorn into his mouth.
Nat snorted. "You're looking a little worse for the wear, too, old man."
"Am I?" he asked after he swallowed. Sometimes it was glaringly obvious that you were six years younger than him, and other times he kind of just forgot about it. But you had been a bit of a brat since the night on the weight bench. You knew now that you could use your delicious tits against him to get whatever you wanted, and you really seemed to want to get pounded into the mattress at every turn.
When Nat touched the hair at his temple, she said, "You're wearing the expression of a man who is about to be wrapped around his daughter's fingers, and you also have a few gray hairs coming in."
He'd known her long enough to be sure she wasn't joking about either of those things. When he stopped in the locker room and looked in the mirror on the way to the parking lot at the end of the day, he found that she was right. It didn't really bother him. Hell, you hadn't said a negative word about it. On the contrary, you'd kissed him right there and told him how much you loved him in bed earlier this morning. The issue was that it reminded him of his parents and how young the both were when they just stopped existing.
He pushed off from the sink forcing himself to focus on the fact that he was very much alive and very much had his wife waiting in the parking lot for him. When he found you next to his Bronco, you were in tears, and you were unbuttoning his uniform shirt which you kept insisting on wearing.
"What's wrong, Baby Girl?" he asked as he rushed to get to you, and as soon as you saw him, you flung yourself into his arms.
"I got a formal reprimand! By some random admiral!"
"For what?" he asked, even though he already knew.
You sniffed and told him, "For being out of dress code."
He waited a few seconds until you seemed a little bit calmer, and then he said, "I think this means you should start wearing the tent."
"I hate it when you're right."
He guided you around to the passenger side door and unlocked it for you. Then he let you pull his shirt off and toss it onto the seat. He didn't even ask questions as you climbed in, he just buckled your seatbelt for you and let you ride home in your bra.
The Bronco was pretty close to the house when you finally reached for his hand, and he gave it to you immediately while you pouted out the window. "Can I have a little hint?" you asked.
He stroked your soft knuckles, unsure what you were referring to. "About what, Sweetheart?"
"Our anniversary. Please? Today was so shitty, and I miss my parents, and I'm starving for grapes dipped in hot sauce, and I am pissed that I got reprimanded."
Bradley tried not to smile as he pulled into the driveway. You were always so endearing even when you were annoyed, and he was going to get you grapes and hot sauce as soon as he got you inside. "Yes, I'll give you a little hint. What do you want to know?"
He watched you unbuckle your seatbelt after he parked, and you crawled across the seat toward him, practically spilling out of your bra. As you straddled his lap and guided his hands to your bump and his sweet Nugget, you asked, "Where are you taking me?"
Bradley smiled and kissed your lips. "Back to the scene of the crime."
----------------------------
Daddy Roo with some gray hairs along his temple. Sign me and BG the fuck up. The Nugget is growing nicely on her new hot sauce diet. Up next is Thanksgiving with the Seresins and the Bradshaws along with an anniversary dinner. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
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164 notes · View notes
rubylace · 3 days
Text
ni-ki — studydate
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pairing! ni-ki to be riki (real nick) wc! 2,651 note: a mess, gone wrong oop
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You arranged your textbooks and notes on the table preparing for your study date with your boyfie. He spammed at the messages that he misses you and has thousand excuses, this one you can't help but accept for by teaching him.
You was determined to tackle your upcoming exams together, but you knew Riki's tendency to be more playful than studious could make things harder.
As Riki arrived, his grin was as mischievous as ever. He leaned in for a quick kiss before plopping down opposite you. “Hey, gorgeous. Ready to face those exams?”
You rolled your eyes, trying to maintain your focus. “Yes, but only if you actually study.” Riki chuckled, tracing circles on your hand with his finger. “Oh, I'll study alright. I'll study every inch of you.”
You blushed, feeling you concentration slipping away already. “Come on, we have to focus.”
But he seemed more interested in distracting you than studying. He began peppering you with kisses on your cheek and neck, making it impossible for you to concentrate.
“Riki, seriously.” You protested, trying to push him away gently.
He flashed you a grin. “What? I thought studying was supposed to be fun.”
As much as you loved his playful nature, she couldn't afford to fail your exams. “It is, but we need to actually get some work done.”
Riki relented, finally opening his textbook. But even then, he couldn't resist making comments that had you blushing and laughing in equal measure.
After a while, you found yourself doodling hearts in the margin of your notebook rather than taking notes. He noticed and leaned over to whisper in your ear. “Thinking about me, huh?”
You shoved him away. “No, I'm trying to focus.”
But despite your protests, you couldn't help but smile at Riki's antics. Even if your study didn't go as planned he started making silly faces at you whenever you tried to concentrate.
Causing you to burst into fits of laughter. “Stop it.."
You scolded between giggles, trying to regain your composure, but he was relentless. He pulled out his phone and began snapping selfies, posing dramatically with his textbooks and sending them to you with exaggerated winks.
You couldn't help but laugh at his antics, but she knew they needed to buckle down if they wanted to make any progress. “Seriously, Riki, we have to study.” He flashed her a charming smile. “But studying is so much better when you do it with me.”
Despite your frustration, you couldn't resist his charm. You leaned in and kissed him softly. “Fine, but no more distractions.”
Riki nodded eagerly, but as soon as your opened her textbook, he started drumming his fingers on the table, humming a tune under his breath.
You sighed, closing one of your book and giving him a pointed look. “Riki, I mean it. We need to focus.”
Riki pouted. “But I can't help it if I find you more interesting than calculus.”
You rolled your eyes, but couldn't suppress a smile. “You're impossible.”
Finally, after some gentle coaxing Riki managed to settle down and you two started reviewing their notes together. But even then he couldn't resist slipping in the occasional flirty comment or joke, keeping the atmosphere light.
“Blame me if your grades are bad, then I'll kiss your whole face instead.”
201 notes · View notes
momowritings · 3 days
Text
K i l l i n g M e S o f t l y
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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Female Reader
Summary: It's hard to compete with a ghost. Especially when that ghost was Toji Fushiguro's wife.
Wrd ct: 20k
tags: angstyyy, established relationship, complicated relationships, non curse au, vaginal sex, missionary, wall sex (?), oral sex (f receiving), breeding kink, DILF Toji, grief/mourning, Toji is trying to be a good dad to Megumi, Toji has a praise kink, mentions of mamagumi, open ending
Part One, Part Two
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Part One
Toji rolled over to your side of the bed to hold you closer to his body. He didn’t like how far away you strayed from him during the night. Naturally you both slept on your backs, however you stretched to all corners of the mattress while he slept stockstill. You managed to make it work, but Toji craved to have you in his arms even with your ever stretching tendencies.
Toji scooped you by the waist and dragged you to his side. 
“Mmm too close,” you mumbled, half asleep. You pushed his face away from the top of your head with no real strength. His grip only got tighter and  grumbled at your protest.
“Fucking impossible.”
A few minutes later Toji peeled one eye open to look at you. Your leg was draped around his waist, your fingers running over his chest idly. He thought you would’ve been snoring by now.
“What’s wrong?”
You popped your head up to look at him. You hand cupped his cheek and you smiled that lopsided grin he loved so much. It was like your face was loading up a smile, starting on one side before stretching over to the next. “Nothing’s wrong, baby. I just can't believe we’re living together now.” 
You have been living with Toji for a few weeks after a few months of dating. Before, your weekend stays extended into the workweek, with your growing side of the closet and personal items all around his house without you even realizing it. Toji felt more relaxed knowing that you were coming home to him, and you didn’t mind when he asked you to just…not go back to your place. 
“Everything you need is with me”, he used to say, and when you looked around  you found out that he was right. His place was even a closer commute to your job than your own was. Megumi, his son who was away for school, wasn't surprised to see the change when he came home to visit. He figured since you were the only woman he has actually seen his dad show interest in, it was bound to happen. Megumi liked you a lot, and he could tell that you were good for his dad. 
You and Toji fit each other like snug puzzle pieces. Different, but not incompatible. Toji enjoyed the way that you were always arm’s length away, that he could put his chin on your shoulder while you did mundane tasks. Or if he was feeling even more clingy, ask you to do whatever you needed to while you sat in his lap. He couldn’t do that nearly as much if you were still at your place. When you were away he would find himself humming a tune he had no idea where he got it from, until he heard you singing it softly in the shower. Or how he actually developed a semi-normal sleep schedule when you would stay up with him for multiple nights in a row just because you wanted to spend more time together.
 His personal favorite is seeing you walking around the house with nothing but his clothes on. Your thighs or shoulders exposed when you had only his t-shirts on. His sweatpants and hoodies drowning you in fabric. He’d imagined all the surfaces he could bend you over in, and then realized that he could make those daydreams a reality, and you let him. It might’ve been a major step taken quickly to others, but Toji felt like it was entirely needed. He loved you. 
You peppered his face with soft kisses that tickled his skin. You loved the high of his cheekbones, the flat strip between his eyebrows, the scar on his lip. Toji accepted your onslaught shower of affection until he turned his head to capture your lips, making you both fall into a deep kiss. His tongue hungrily slid into your mouth, and you shifted the rest of your body to lay on top of him. His hands ran up your legs, gripping your ass and massaging it while you started to grind yourself on his crotch. Toji knew immediately what you were trying to do.
“I thought you had work in the morning,” he grumbled. He usually wouldn’t give a damn, but it was so hard for you to get up in the mornings even with plenty of sleep. If you continued to rub up on him he would not be able to hold back for much longer. 
“I do,” you said in between kisses. You stamped your lips on his jaw, down the tendons of his neck, and gave kitten licks to his sternum. Toji never slept with a shirt on because he was always as hot as a furnace, so there were no interruptions for your mouth. You bit and sucked on his chest, thumbing his nipple, feeling it get hard under your touch and you flick the other one with your tongue. “Let’s do one quick round.”
“You said you were sore earlier today,” Toji remarked. He was already painfully hard from all your teasing. He didn’t bother removing your panties from your body, only scrunching the fabric covering your dripping sex to the side and eased two fingers inside of you. You sighed and lifted your hips so he could please you better while you palmed his length in his pants. Your eyes fluttered closed and you hummed. 
“I was but I feel better now. If we only do it once I'll be okay.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” He asked with a wicked grin. You smiled back at him, and he watched his cock disappear in your pussy slowly but surely. There was a soft glow in the room coming from the full moon hanging low outside of the bedroom window, but it was plenty enough to watch the soft curves of your body stretch and contract from your coupling. He watch you fuck yourself, the way you reached for his hands to steady yourself, the way your knees held his waist tighter while you swiveled your hips faster. Your eyebrows were drawn together, and your bottom lip was held between your teeth. 
Toji allows you to control the tempo. He liked to watch you use him and he shouldn’t push you too hard tonight. But when your breathy moans started to call out his name, and you opened your eyes back up to look down at him he felt his stomach flip around. You were dripping all over him and the bedding, and with that you reached to rub your clit. Toji took a sharp breath in. You clenched around him with every brush over your sensitive bud. You were really only after your own pleasure, grinding on him rather than riding, circling your clit faster. After letting go of your other hand, Toji guided your waist to have your hips to rock sensually on him. He moved your hand off of your sex, wanting to make you come himself and you slowed your speed to which he reprimanded you for. 
“Did I say to stop moving?”
“Toji, I’m gonna–” 
“Come for me,” he stated. His thumb applied a harder pressure on your clit. You shuddered, your fingernails digging into his skin and you threw your head back. Toji finally got up from his back and licked your exposed skin on your neck. His tongue ran over the bumps of tendons under the skin and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer. Soft cries rang in his ears, making him fuck you from below faster. You muttered his name repeatedly in broken syllables that ended with your lips on his mouth. 
If you had your eyes open you could see the way he gazed at you falling apart in his arms. Toji would do anything to make sure that it was something that only he could view when you were ready to commit to forever. Sometimes it feels like you are so agreeable, never arguing when he takes the relationship to another level, so he had to remind himself not to be too pushy. He took it that you were just as happy as he was and had to reel himself back sometimes. 
Toji felt the sporadic pulse from your sex and knew that you were coming before you said it again. He silenced your wails with another kiss, drinking you quietly so you wouldn’t wake up Megumi even though he was across the house. Whenever you came he wasn’t too far off himself, and you still swiveled your hips through your high and coaxed him to fill you up. 
“Please, Toji? I need it inside.”
He huffed out a tight laugh. “You need it?” 
“Y-yesss. Give me what’s mine,” you ordered, and he was all too happy to oblige. You dropped your head in the junction of his neck, biting his shoulder when he came inside of you. You could feel him dripping out from the seams and you stayed wrapped around him to catch your breath. 
After five minutes of sitting in his lap Toji tried to remove himself from you but you protested. 
“Don’t move,” you whined. You almost fell asleep and it would be too jarring to separate now. 
“I need to clean you up,” Toji argued. You peeked your head out from under his jaw and complained again. “And now you only have six hours to sleep. You stop functioning when you have less than seven.” 
“You think you know me so well,” you tease. Toji hooked his arm around your waist and swung his leg over the bed, standing up with you still on his cock. You gasped loudly, every step he took to the bathroom sending shocks straight to your spot and stars bursted in your vision. 
Toji was trying to do the right thing, he swears, but when he sat you on the counter and your locked your legs around him, his original plan to clean you up got lost in translation, which meant he fucked you again until your face was tear stained. When you finally wore yourself out you only had five hours left to sleep. 
Just as expected, it was impossible to get you to wake up in the morning. You snored loudly until Toji nudged your cheek right at 6AM but got no response. He tried again, removing your face that was stuffed in his chest and rolling on your back. 
“I told you we should have gone to sleep earlier.” 
After the third round he had his hand on your neck and your calves on his shoulders, effectively flattening you into the bed. It was a great experience in the moment, one that you didn’t regret, but now you had to deal with the consequences. 
“Give me ten more minutes,” you muffled. 
“You said that last time and ended up being late. Come on, you have to get out of bed.” Toji tugged your ankle until you opened one eye at him. His hair fell over his eyebrows the same way it always did, his face in a slight frown . At this point you know that it’s his natural resting face. Always slightly disappointed but you know it was to hide just how much he cares. You let him take your foot in his lap and he massaged the balls of your feet. 
“I’ll make you breakfast. I don’t want to leave you and you slip under again.” 
“Yeah, I’m getting up,” you sighed. You shift out of his hold and finally put your feet on the ground. “I’m not going to be late again. I’m fine with anything you make for breakfast,” you said, kissing the top of his head as he was still sitting down on the bed and he pulled you back by your arm. 
“What kinda kiss was that?” 
You smile when he drags you down for a deeper kiss. His mouth was minty, showing that he’s already been up before you and you licked your lips when you separated. 
“That’s better,” he grumbled, then smacked your ass as you walked to the bathroom. 
You hopped into the bathroom, speeding through your morning routine to whirl into the closet for your work attire. You were lucky, you only needed to wear all black, and your personal style slowly morphed into it to make things easier for yourself. You quickly shimmied on a black maxi dress that subtly clung to your curves and a black knitted shrug to cover your shoulders. You went back to the bathroom, doing your makeup and keeping an eye on the time. After twenty minutes of measuring your eyeliner to make sure they were even, you gathered your purse, double checked your wallet and keys, then headed to the kitchen. 
Toji stood at the stove, sans his shirt, watching the eggs on the pan carefully. He was cooking them just the way you liked, sunny side up but only slightly runny. You creeped up behind him, slipping your arms around his waist and stamping your lips on his shoulder. Your lipstick left a mark on his skin that you smiled at. 
“There’s that bread you like in the toaster,” he informed you, opening the pot to check on the steamed eggs. 
“Mmm, thank you,” you said. The toaster popped up, and you grabbed a plate to set it on. He even mashed and seasoned an avocado to spread, along with thinly sliced tomatoes. 
“Is Megumi up? I’m gonna finish the whole thing if I don’t have to share,” you warned. 
Toji placed an egg on your sourdough slice over your tomato. You patted his cheek as another thanks. “The kid’s fine. He’s been eating oatmeal a lot lately.”
“Like father, like son,” you chuckled with your mouth full. You caught a glimpse of the time on the stove and nearly choked. Toji’s soothing hand was immediately on your back as you gulped down tea that was made for you. You winced at the taste, peering into the cup to see a golden liquid sloshing back and forth. “Is this chamomile?”
“Yeah,” He answered slowly. He watched as you got a glass of water to wash down the rest of your food, confused at your reaction. “Is it bad? Does tea ever expire?” 
“No. I just… I don’t like chamomile. And you don’t drink tea so I wasn’t expecting to find it here.” You took another huge bite of your food, trying to scarf it down to get out before you actually were late. 
Toji gave you an empty stare that made you slow your chewing. You looked down at your clothes and stared widely back at him. “What? Is there something on my face?”
“Shit, no, sorry. I have no idea why I thought it was your favorite. I bought it… for you.” 
You gave him an apologetic smile. To be fair, you never explicitly told him about it before, only that you liked chai. Little mistakes were bound to happen the closer you two got and you were rather excited for it. Soon you both would know all of each other’s idiosyncrasies. 
“It’s fine. No big deal, really. I’ll see you when I come back home, right?”
Home. It rolled off your tongue so easily it pulled Toji out of his head. He accepted the kiss you gave him on the cheek and took another one straight from your lips. 
“Yeah, I’ll be here. Want me to drive you?”
“Can’t let you do everything for me. I’ll become useless,” you laughed. “Okay, bye, seriously. Tell Megs I said good morning. I love you!” 
You were out of the door before he could say anything else, and the sound of your car starting up and getting farther away let him know that you left. Toji stared at the mug left on the counter, then at the tea box he used to make you the drink. Soft footsteps creaked down the stairs and Toji was quietly greeted by his son who mumbled a good morning. His bed head was even wilder than its normal style, the spikes separating into a million little parts. It looked like Megumi was struck by lightning. 
“Do you like chamomile?” 
Megumi blinked slowly, trying to understand the question his father asked him but it was taking a while to process. He squinted at the yellow box in Toji’s hand and shook his head as an answer. 
“What’s for breakfast?” 
There was only one other person in his life that he knew that drank chamomile. He has kept the memory of her locked deep inside of the crevices of his mind, but even Toji is susceptible to a Freudian slip. You may not have liked chamomile tea, but his late wife sure did. Toji cleared his throat before answering. 
“Oatmeal. There’s some egg on the stove if you want some.” 
Toji left his son alone after giving him breakfast. Usually the meals the two shared together were in a comfortable silence. They were two individuals who could enjoy each other’s presence without saying a word, and he loved that he could do that with his son. However, Toji was more drawn to the basement of his house than the company of Megumi.
Behind a heavy steel safe door there were some items worth locking away from both you and Megumi’s eyes, like weapons stacks of cash for emergencies, but even deeper inside the safe there was a ring in the far corner. The small gold band looked foreign to Toji as he rolled it between his fingers. He was a different man during then, someone who was blissfully happy and underestimated just how far the Zen’in clan would punish him for just existing. 
He saved up for two years to get her a ring. Two years of odd jobs and shitty ramen packets to buy what he really wanted. She said that it didn’t matter, that they didn’t need physical proof to show that they will always be together but he wanted the world to know. He’s always been prideful in that sense. Toji slipped the ring on his finger and the cool metal sent a chill down his spine. Such a familiar feeling, yet it felt like a lifetime ago. 
“Hey Dad, I’m gonna head out! Me, Yuuji, and Nobara are going to the movies and then walking around the mall.”
“Yeah, go ahead. Call me when you get there,” Toji shouted back. 
“What are you doing down there?” Megumi asked, and Toji heard his footfalls coming down the stairs. He gently placed the ring back in its corner and locked the safe once again. 
When Megumi reached the bottom Toji looked like he just grabbed cleaning supplies. A bucket, mop, and a bottle of bleach filled his hands and Megumi was relieved. 
“Stop snooping on me kid unless you want to help.”
“I’m good. See you later?” Megumi was already halfway up the stairs. 
“Call me when you get there. And I mean call me, not text. I need to make sure it’s you,” Toji yelled after him. 
“Stop nagging, I’ll call.”
Toji has his son back. He’s managed to find someone that he loves once again. Today was a little blip, something that could easily be fixed. He didn’t need to dwell on the past. When he left the basement, Toji didn’t look back to think about the what ifs.
~~
Toji mixed up facts with you and his wife a total of five times before you started to question it. He grimaced after each supposed favorite or dislike of yours wasn’t really yours, and when the flash of confusion swept over your face it was like a punch to his gut. 
“Is my sister feeding you the wrong information on purpose?” You joked, but the laugh was strained. Something’s were stuff that you had mentioned, multiple times before, and you know that Toji has a great memory. Toji would apologize and make up for the mistake by spoiling you with one gift or another, but it still gnawed at him. He needed to get it together.
Despite Toji’s better efforts to focus on you better, memories of his wife pushed to the forefront of his mind, even sleep couldn’t save him. When the weather unexpectedly drops he’s reminded of how much he misses his wife. 
But the cold doesn’t hold any good memories for Toji Fushiguro. When the weather changed, he kept his head low and his hands shoved in his pocket when walking outside to ignore the frost that reminded him of some of the worst nights of his life. Perhaps it started when he was dumped in a punishment pit at the young age of 5 for standing up against his uncles’ cruel insults about his late mother while it was freezing cold, so cold that the blood from his busted lip glued his mouth shut despite the hot tears running down his face. Or maybe it was the memory of giving up his son in a moment of weakness. 
Toji remembered leaving agreement with puffs of his breath wafting in front of him like little ghosts, and he swore he saw the face of Megumi in one of them while he tried to convince himself that it didn’t matter. That nothing mattered.  But Toji knew the reason, the main reason why he hated the cold. It haunted his dreams whenever he thought that he would finally get a restful night of sleep, replaying itself over and over again in his mind until he avoided sleep altogether, opting to stay dead on his feet than to enter his own personal hell. 
Right now Toji knew that he was in his bed sleeping deep in his home, very far removed from the event yet still… still he was reminded of his greatest failure. Awake in the dream he saw sticky, gray snow and the night sky. It was all he could see for miles on end, falling quietly like a whisper of death. Crisp cold air filled his lungs, dried his tongue, watered his eyes. It was a dream and he knew it, because this scene has played out before. He knows how this ends and he doesn’t want to participate. Toji screws his eyes shut and opens them again, but still the snow falls.
There’s a light on the horizon. It started small, a little pinprick of a blinding stream that shone directly in his eye, and it called for him. It called his name in a voice that clenched his heart and twisted it out of his chest. The voice was weak, confused, scared . It begged, she begged, Toji’s wife begged for him. She was in pain, Toji could hear the quivering in her voice. She was unable to complete a full sentence without her voice giving out to broken pleas. 
The beam grew in size, beckoning as he had been lost at sea for a very long time now, a ghost ship with no passengers. He ran as fast as he could, his arm outstretched to catch the light that filled his soul and the wind whipped his face. The snow slowed him down, swallowing his feet until he was heaving his legs out of it knee deep, but that wouldn’t stop him. She was just at the end of the road. He could see her again and that was enough for him to keep trying even if the ending was always the same. 
Toji collapsed in the frigid earth. The light was gone, her voice swarmed all around him, and the snow was no longer white. The sheet of white at his feet was broken by something far more sinister. Crimson blood bloomed with her voice growing louder, terrified of what’s to come. Toji’s fingers felt raw from scooping the snow up like a madman. He was shivering and sweating and crying all at the same time, desperate to finally get her back. He dug until he reached soil and dug further. They promised themselves to each other at their wedding, yet he was still here without her. His wife’s blood on his hands that bled for her painted the snow until it lost all purity and he was left alone with her coffin, reminded once again how he was too late. He couldn't change anything this time and he never will. He stared at the coffin, the snow covering it in a blanket, slowly undoing all of his work. 
Toji did not wake up with a start, however he refused to open his eyes when he woke, because the white ceiling above him would remind of how the snow falls. It did nothing to stop the tears that escaped. Always so perceptive when it comes to him you woke because of the shift of energy, immediately trying to see what was wrong. You hovered over Toji’s face, gently wiping away his tears and tried to coax him awake.
“Toji? Baby? Talk to me. It’s just a dream,” you murmured. As tired as you were you wanted to make sure he was alright. Toji peeled his eyes open and your face filled his frame. You squinted down at him, still being dragged down with sleep, and you frowned slightly. “This is your third nightmare this week. What’s wrong?”
An innocent question. The answer would break you if he said it out loud. Instead he wrapped his arms around your body and rolled over, resting his entire weight on top of you and buried his face in your neck.
“M’fine. You need to sleep.”
You were doubtful. Toji was deflecting again, but you didn’t know how else to get him to confide in you. He adjusted your arms so that they wouldn’t go numb under him and rested his head again, clearly closing the conversation before it even started.
“ We need to sleep, and you can tell me anything, Toji. I mean it. I’m always here for you. I love you.” 
Such a sweet girl. How Toji got blessed with people like you was with all shit he’s done was beyond him. He lifted his head up to look at your face, pushing your bonnet off of your eyebrows to look at you fully. You waited expectantly, hopefully. Toji sighed and touched his forehead with yours. 
“I only have one regret in my life. It costed someone’s life, and I don’t know why the fuck it’s on replay these days but it’s nothing you need to worry about.”
“Is it your wife?” You whispered. “I don’t mind talking about her if it helps you.” 
He sucked a sharp breath in, his eyes screwed shut. The floodgates were open, and he couldn’t get them to close again. If he shut the conversation down right now it would shit on the attempt you made to be understanding towards him, but was it the last thing he wanted to talk about with you. His dead lover to his new lover. What a twisted joke.
A knot filled with all the things he wants to say but can’t grew in the back of his throat, making it hard to breathe. “Yeah.” 
“Losing someone is hard, I know that much. If your anniversary is coming up, the memories are gonna keep coming back. Don’t feel like you need to suppress them because I’m here. Be honest to yourself, go through the motions, and come back to me when you're ready.”
Toji felt overwhelmed with emotion, not really sure which one he wanted to point out. He nodded, his head moving yours, then gave you a kiss. It was tentative at first, unsure if it was the right thing to do, then Toji got greedy, drinking you hungrily until you were panting. Your fingernails scraped his nape, tugging his hair to get him off of your mouth so he went for your neck instead. 
“T-toji,” you whimpered. Your voice sounded too close to hers and it made him freeze. He stared at you like a deer in headlights. He snapped out of it himself, imagining how he must’ve looked to you and shook his head.
“Sorry. C’mere.” 
He held you in his arms laying on your side, being the big spoon for once since you have been sleeping together. You stretched your fingers across his bicep, and you couldn’t help but to wonder who he really saw while kissing you.
The nightmares didn’t stop. In fact, they got worse, often waking you up later and later into the night, and it would take a while to wake Toji out of them. Your body suffered because of it, your coworkers commenting on how dead on your feet you looked and often sticking you in the back to retrieve dresses than to subject customers to your constant yawning. 
Toji started to sleep in the living room because of it. You were being overly considerate, not telling him how much of a toll he was taking on your body but he could see it. The deep eye bags, the slow reactions, the half smiles. This was something he needed to get through alone. He’d wake up shivering in the dark even with the blankets you snuck over to lay over him. 
One night he rose from the snow to find you on the other end of the couch sleeping. Your legs tangled up with his under blankets, and he gently tried to remove himself to not wake you. There was only ten minutes left before your alarm was supposed to go off, so Toji spent that time staring at your face. He squatted on the floor beside you, ghosting the planes of lips until it was time.
“What are you doing here?” He asked after rubbing the bridge of your nose enough for you to wake up. You groaned, twitching your nose like a rabbit then sighed. 
“Bed’s too big without you,” you mumbled. “It feels like we’re fighting.”
“We are not fighting.”
“I know that. It still feels that way.”  You stretched and threw your arm over your eyes. With your other hand you grabbed Toji’s hand and rested it over your chest. “Do you think… Have you tried therapy? Professional grief counseling?” 
Toji stilled, and the air became frigid. You bit on your lip nervously, but that was why you threw your hand over your eyes. You didn’t want to see his reaction if you did overstep. 
“I don’t need that. It’ll be over soon.” “But–”
“I’m fine,” Toji said in a warning tone.
“Look, all I’m saying is that it might help if you–”
“Is there something wrong with your bed? Why are you both here?” 
Megumi interrupted the conversation and Toji was grateful for it. Megumi looked at the both of you rubbing his eyes. 
“Nothings wrong. We were just talking but we all have stuff to do today so let’s get to it.” Toji held out his hand for you to use to get up, and just like that, the channel of conversation was closed.
“Gumi, is this your last day before you have to head back to school?” You asked before he walked into the kitchen. 
“Stop calling me that,” he grumbled, but nodded. You were the only person who ever called him that, and while he hid his blush from you, his ever perceptive father snorted. 
“I’ll make us dinner then,” you smiled. “There’s nobody else who will tell me obscure animal facts at random intervals.” “I could do that for you,” Toji mumbled, his hand still holding yours.
 “They're not as cool as Megs’, sorry.”
You could play this game. Keep the mood light and airy even though Toji’s behaviour weighed heavily on your heart. It was the only thing you could do given his reaction. You let go of his hand to get started on your morning while he talked to Megumi some more, and you noticed a golden ring on the bathroom counter. Immediately you knew it was Toji’s, as it was too large to be a surprise for you, and gingerly you picked it up. You held it up to the light, looking at it at all dimensions and noticed an inscription on the inside. A date, a time well before you, and if you had to guess, Toji was in his early twenties when it was engraved. Young to be married, but who could stop two people in love? 
You placed the ring back where you found it and washed your face harshly. You knew Toji had a life before you, there is no reason to get jealous over that. Whatever happened to her, it must’ve been terrible if he kept on having nightmares about it. That’s what you repeated in your head over and over again when you came back out to breakfast waiting for you with Megumi and Toji sitting at the breakfast bar. You were someone different before you met him too, it was only fair. You can’t hold it against him or his late wife, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. When Toji kissed your temple you tried to keep your face pleasant, carefully hiding the tumultuous waves of feelings stirring in your chest. 
You took only the bagel he laid out for you and calmly walked to the door. As expected, he called out for you. 
“That’s all you’re going to eat?” 
You turned around to give him a small smile. “It’s that time of the month. I really don’t feel like eating a lot right now. Hopefully I’ll be hungry for dinner.” 
“Eat something before then,” he said. He opened the garage door for you and walked you to your car. 
Seated inside, you started up your car and Toji stood beside you, waiting for you to roll down your window.
“Gonna leave without a goodbye?” 
“Of course not,” you said. You gave him a kiss, one that was longer than you intended because a kiss could never be short and sweet with him. Toji wasn’t satisfied until your lipstick stained his mouth and smudged out of your lips. 
“I appreciate what you do for me,” he confessed unexpectedly. “Don’t forget that.”
You nodded, holding back the tears that threatened to spill all over your face. He cupped your chin and kissed you one last time. “I love you.” 
That was something that didn’t leave Toji’s mouth very often. The words were hard to form on Toji’s tongue, not because he didn’t believe in them, but it wasn’t something that he heard very often growing up. Trying to give what he rarely had himself was an impossible task at times, but he knew how much you needed to hear those words. 
“Fuck you Toji, you always know how to make me cry,” you laughed, dabbing your eyes. “I love you too. Now please, don’t make me any more emotional. I want to be stable when I get to work.”
Toji pressed his lips on your forehead and let you drive off, and you felt a little better after finding the ring. Toji loves you . That’s all the confirmation you needed. 
With the day being so slow at work you were excited to go back home and prepare dinner. Toji usually took care of all the meals, finding it easier to just make the cravings of you and Megumi rather than ordering in, and he turned out to be pretty good at it. That is, after you got him to stop caring about the calorie count of everything. You were spoiled rotten because of his cooking, so it would feel nice to exercise your own skill in the kitchen. 
You came home a little earlier than usual, and it surprised Toji who was on the phone with somebody when you waltzed in. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss on the top of your head, holding you while he talked on the phone. 
“Sukuna, stop calling me about bullshit like this. I will change my phone number,” he threatened into the phone. You released a silent snort. He hung up the phone and dropped his full weight on your shoulders, his chin digging on your head and his arms dragging down your shoulders. 
“Toji!”
“Need help with dinner? We should probably go grocery shopping,” he thought out loud, ignoring your complaints. 
“I was thinking about that. You’re gonna come with me?”  
“Duh. Let’s go,” he said, and you could feel him smiling. You quickly changed into more comfortable clothing, matching the monochromatic sweats Toji was wearing. You took his car, and you sat comfortably in the passenger seat while he manned the vehicle. He listened to you babble about your day, holding your thigh and eventually your hand the entire ride until you got to the store. 
“I really am going to miss Megumi. I like having him around the house,” you sighed. You walked beside Toji as he pushed the shopping cart around. You grabbed staples that needed to be in the fridge already, and now you were looking for desert to settle on. 
“The kid’s gonna be fine.”
“Just say you’re gonna miss him.”
You strolled in front of chocolate cakes. You pointed at one, and Toji shook his head. 
“He can still visit. It’s only a train ride away.” He reached for a box of pie and you turned it down. He rolled his eyes but placed it back down. 
“And he’s gonna miss you too. You guys are just cute little mirrors of each other. You know what? I can just make brownies. He likes that, right?” “You don’t even cook for me this much,” Toji grumbled. 
You patted the side of his face. “You’ll be okay, I promise.”  
After checkout you both loaded the car up and headed back home. You sang quietly to the songs playing on the radio, and everything about early morning events slowly escaped your mind. Back in the house you divided the work, you brought in the bags that had the ingredients you needed to cook and Toji brought in everything else. Times like this are when Toji and you fell into a comfortable routine. No words needed to be shared but he felt connected to you in a way that he hasn’t felt in years. It was the domesticity he constantly craved and he relished in it. 
Toji aided you in any way you needed, making preparation of the food go faster. Before both of you knew it Megumi was back from spending the day out when you were placing dishes on the table with a beaming smile. You were so proud of yourself, and Megumi scanned the table with slight surprise. 
“I’m just one person,” he said sheepishly. 
“I might’ve gotten a little bit carried away, but that’s just because I’m gonna miss you so much,” you smiled. “Go on, wash up and we’ll eat.”
You cared for Megumi like he was your own son and Toji couldn’t be anymore grateful for that. Since fixing his relationship with Megumi, Toji had put his needs in front of all others, including other romantic partners. You had understood that from the beginning and made a conscious effort to know the young boy not just to get on Toji’s good side, but because you understood that Megumi is his own person who has real thoughts and needs. It just so happened the more that Megumi accepted you, the more Toji let you in his life. 
While sharing breakfast was common in the house, sharing dinner was less so. Everybody was busier later in the day, often eating out or warming up leftovers to scarf down. Now the table was filled with your jokes and Megumi and Toji’s laugh, he realized that you were right. He was going to miss his son being around all the time. It was going to be moments like this that would creep up on him in the future, reminding him of how warm everything was if he didn’t appreciate them now. 
An unfamiliar name to your ear slipped from Toji’s mouth in response to something you said, making him freeze and he prayed that you didn’t hear it. It was a mistake, an thoughtless, grave mistake that could ruin the night that you three were having. He meant to say your name, he was holding your hand. Your smile faltered, and Megumi gave a weary glance over to his dad. 
“Who?” You asked quietly, but the look on Toji’s face gave you all the answers you needed. It was the first time that you have ever heard her name. It was pretty, but the context made you sick. You laughed a humorless laugh staring down into your plate. Toji’s apologies did not reach your ears. Megumi called out to you, but your throat was too tight to respond. Slipping your hand out of Toji’s you cracked your knuckles slowly, each pop echoing in the room. 
“Are… are you all packed up, Megs?” You changed the subject. You didn’t need Toji’s ghosts becoming yours, ruining the moment that you were having. 
“Y-yeah. Just last minute stuff like toothbrushes and stuff is left.”
You nodded robotically. “That’s good. I, uh, I wanted us to watch a movie but it’s already getting so late. Are you done eating? I’ll clean up so you can get a good rest tonight.”
Megumi got up from his seat with his empty plate in hand. “I can help! I don’t mind, really.” 
Toji reached for your hand again and failed miserably when you reeled back. “Wait–”
“Thanks Megs, I’m just gonna put them in the dishwasher if you want to help me with that.” Your voice was tight, a telltale sign of tears about to fall. 
“I didn’t mean–” 
“Could you give me and Toji a second first?” 
“Yes,” Megumi said, scrambling out of the way. Once you heard his feet upstairs above you you let out a shaky breath. You pushed yourself up out of your seat, and Toji stood up quickly beside you. He had no idea what to expect. He would take you screaming at him over the crushing silence he had to endure. 
“I’m sorry,” he offered first. He sincerely meant it, unsure of how else to express his remorse in the moment. “Look at me… please.” 
“You need help. I’m not trying to insult you, or emasculate you, or anything like that, but you. Need. Help .” Your voice wavered. You faced Toji, and the sight broke his heart. He often teased you about crying so easily, but he never wanted to be the cause of it. Heavy tears brimmed your waterline and your lips quivered. 
“I’ve been trying to ignore this but it’s getting to be too much, Toji. Do you even see me?”
“Of course I see you,” he promised. He cupped your face and the tears started to fall, and he brushed them away with his thumb. You vehemently shook your head and got out of his hold. 
“You don’t. You see her. Everything is about her. I don’t want to be a replacement for your wife,” you sobbed. You took a step back and put your hand over your mouth. You caught your breath, and Toji’s heart raced at what you could possibly say next. 
“I’m going to clean now.”
“Let me he–”
“Please don’t. Megumi already is. He’s probably listening in.”
So this is how it felt to be shut out. Something that Toji often did to you out of habit did not feel too nice to be on the other side of. It actually felt fucking horrible. Toji didn’t push any further, afraid of causing anymore damage and left you alone in the dining room. Megumi stood at the top of the stairs, cursing and barely ducking out of sight just like you predicted. 
“I saw you, Megumi,” he called out. “You’re free to help her out now.”
Megumi walked out, looking at his dad straight on. A silent message was shared between them and Toji dropped his head. 
“Fix this soon,” Megumi said when he passed his dad, and that’s the only thing anyone said to Toji for the rest of the night. 
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Thanks for reading!! Lemme know your thoughts
Part Two
M.list || Twitter || Ao3
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cherriesformatt · 6 hours
Text
vlog day || matt sturniolo
matt x fem!reader
summary: you said yes to being in the vlog while spending time with ur best friends and your boyfriend.
warnings: none
word count:
a/n: have a good day ily
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🍒
“Are you filming already?” I asked sitting at the table and putting stuff in my purse.
I was cleaning it because I couldn’t find my favorite lipstick anywhere.
“Yes, you said it’s okay if we film the vlog with you right?” Nick asked me and I nodded.
“Yes, yes look guys!” I looked at the camera and brought a gift bag closer to me.
“So I said few days back that I wasn’t feeling that good lately like you know mentally because I had a lot of work and stress. I came in here this morning and this was on the table with my name on it” I showed the bag.
“Look what Chris and Nick got me” I laughed showing the camera the coffee cup with triplets photos on it.
“We know you love coffee so… you know you can look every morning at people who brings you joy in your life” Nick laughed behind the camera.
“Yes and you know what’s the funniest part? They only put one photo of Matt” I said and stood up when I saw Chris coming up with the new Dr Pepper.
“It’s finally here people let’s try it” he said.
“He is constantly talking about it let’s just get over it” I whispered to the camera.
“I found your lipstick honey… oh your filming already?” Matt came from his room.
“Aww Matt you’re not beating lover boy allegations ever again” Chris laughed at him but Matt only rolled his eyes and gave me the lipstick.
“Thank you Matt” I smiled and wanted to peck his lips but I didn’t.
I didn’t want to push that I was already in the vlog. But I was exited and I said yes because us four actually didn’t spent time together for a long time now. So I was excited for some fun with my boyfriend and his brothers.
“Ladies first….”Chris gave me the can.
“Okay because if I die it’s on you…” I say and I took a sip.
It wasn’t bad but also it wasn’t my favorite.
“Meh… it’s okay but I think you and Nick will like it” I gave it back to Chris.
He made his brothers try and they had a talk about it while I went to put my converse on.
When we got into the car I sat in the back with Nick so Chris could be in front of the camera.
“So we don’t know where we’re going yet” Chris said to the camera and we all looked at it surprised it’s on.
“What? I thought we can decide on camera…” he said.
“Let’s go to Melrose I want Happy Ice” Nick said and I clapped my hands.
“Yes! Happy Ice and pizza I’m in” I said and buckled my sit belt.
We were driving with Chris talking all the time and Matt crying about every dog we pass.
“When you explain something is impossible to know what you’re talking about… it’s like I spy game with 5 years old” I told Chris.
“Well I wanted to edge on…”He started.
“Oh you want us to edge you a little? Okay…”Matt said and I gasped.
“Matthew….”I hit his arm playfully.
“Don’t even start y/n” he said and looked at me in the mirror and I winked at him.
“Anyways… how much longer? I need to peepee” I said looking at maps.
“Oh my god you’re worst than Chris sometimes babe” Matt said.
I looked at him and laughed.
“What?” I asked.
“Guys.. that’s what y/n always does. 20 minutes before we left she said she needs to pee but instead going to the bathroom she did like 100 other things and she forgot to go and its like that every time we go out” Matt said.
“Woow sir what is this? Telling each other icks or what?” Nick asked looking at us.
“I would say about her hair in the bathroom everywhere” Matt added.
“Fair enough… I would say about your hair in the sink after you shave and we would be even” I laughed.
“And I would say your underwear under my couch when you guys forget you don’t live alone” Nick said and I covered my mouth with my hand.
“Shut up it was once” I said.
“Nah like three times” Chris said and I covered my whole face with my hands.
“We not putting this in the video and stop making her uncomfortable” Matt laughed.
“We were uncomfortable!” Nick yelled.
“Okay done with my sex life let’s talk about the weather or about how ugly is this persons outfit” I said when we stopped on red.
“Omg but look they are so cute having photo shoot together” Nick said and I smiled.
“Awww look how he’s holding her stuff for her” I said.
When we got to the pizza place I ordered for us and looked at the boys filming in the corner.
“Matt please don’t do that it actually sends shivers down my spine “I told him looking at him opening the water bottle with his teeth.
“Here I need to go to the bathroom” I gave him order numer and went into the toilet.
We ate in the car talking shit about people and than we got to the happy ice and I was holding the camera.
“Guys if he won’t take cherry for me I’m going to break up with him. I told him he needs to guess what I want” I whispered to the camera.
“Here I bought cherry flavored for you?” He came up to me with the desert and I smiled.
“Ah still need that anniversary gift then” I said to the camera when Matt took it from me and looked at me confused but I only smiled at him.
We walked around while we ate and then we came back to the car. While we were driving I saw a very handsome guy and me an Nick made a funny face in the same time looking after him.
“This guy was so hot!!” Nick yelled and I gave him high 5.
“ I knew you’re going to say that!” Chris said.
“y/n I’m not talking to you anymore” Matt said and I made a sad face.
“You love me Matty he was like 4 you are a 10” I said and he smiled.
“So technically you think I’m a 10?” Chris asked.
“Well yes but then you open your mouth” I said and everyone laughed.
When we came home I took my shoes off and sat down on the couch when boys finished up the video.
“Okay we’re done… that was fun thanks for coming with us and filming” nick said and he sat down next to me.
“I had fun too! I hope everyone is not going to kill me for being in the video” I said.
“They’re going to love you” he said and I smiled.
“Movie night?” Matt asked from the kitchen.
“Movie night!” I said happily.
He smiled and me and I hugged a pillow close to me. I was so relaxed after spending day with them. Nick was right. They were my favorite humans in the whole world.
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This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  @wynnyfryd! Wynnyfryd has 34 fics in the Stranger Things fandom and all of them are in the Steddie tag!
i don’t know, you figure it out
Plot Holes
biting you biting you biting you- oh! kissing you!
Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!
She's got some of the FUNNIEST writing in this fandom, and it's very snappy too like. She's an editing demon for sure, she can take a concept that I'd think would take paragraphs to explain and find the right words to make it hit just as hard with like, two sentences. I also really really love how descriptive her metaphors are, really visceral sometimes, and she's really good at writing realistic life events but still making them fun to read about even when it's about like, devastating shit. The sex she writes is also intense as hell! -- @griefabyss69
Below the cut, @wynnyfryd answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!
Why do you write Steddie?
I am but a humble bisexual — I see two beautiful brown-eyed men makin’ beautiful brown eyes at each other, I go a little insane for two years. It is what it is.
What’s your favorite trope to READ?
late-night moments of quiet hopeful hesitant intimacy over a shared joint or cigarette. Thin wisp of smoke between them, stars dancing in their eyes. Yeah. YEAHHHHHHH 
What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?
This isn’t really a trope so much as a dynamic, but I love a good dipshit 4 dingus dialogue-heavy scene. Don’t get me wrong, I think Eddie and Steve can both be very smart and knowledgeable in their areas of interest/expertise, but these are two young dudes with no access to the internet. I love letting them be confidently incorrect dumbasses. Just ‘yes and’-ing each other’s stupidity while an exasperated third character begs for mercy.
What’s your favorite Steddie fic?
Well, this question is impossible and furthermore rude. This question came into my home and didn’t take its muddy boots off. This question never mailed me a thank you letter for my lovely wedding gift. That blender was expensive; the absolute nerve. No but seriously, I think The Lathe by palmviolet is going to stay with me forever.
Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?
I’m a big fan of doing canon divergence from different jumping off points — the beauty of having characters live in the same small town their whole lives is that you get so many great opportunities for these “what if our paths crossed sooner” moments.  I have some very loose notes for a S3 fic where Eddie is the movie theater employee who finds Steve and Robin in the bathroom after they escape the Russians, and I also have an old WIP set between S1 and S2 where lifeguard Steve rescues Eddie and then spends the summer teaching him how to swim. Would love to revisit those after I finish the trailer park AU (which I will be referring to as TPAU because my fingers are tired and because ‘toilet paper au’ makes me laugh.)
What is your writing process like?
Uhhhhh. 😂 I mean, for TPAU, basically just insert the scene from Dune 2 of Paul’s first sandworm ride: I’m shaking I’m sweating there is sand in my nostrils and I am surely about to die— oh wait, maybe I’ve actually got this? Am I actually doing it? Oh shit, look at me go!   For one-shots I like to use a more structured outline and bracket method. I start by dividing my doc into numbered scenes, with each scene getting a notes section and a prose section, like this:
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This format gives me a lot of freedom to switch up the order of scenes and to move between scenes so I avoid writer’s block. I can also jump ahead to scenes I really want to write without making a mess of my outline. Once I have something written in the prose section of each scene, I go back and work on replacing each bracket with prose until there are no brackets left. Lastly, I create a new blank doc and copy the prose over in order so I can read the full fic and work on edits from there.  
Do you have any writing quirks?
I have been known to abuse a semicolon. And an em dash. And a conjunction at the start of a sentence. Yes, I do have ADHD.   I’m also a lyricist, so I feel like my prose tends to stray into poetry territory pretty often.
Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?
When I’m finished! Which is probably why I tend to stick to one-shots; I get impatient and want to post stuff the second it’s ready.
Which fic are you most proud of?
‘i don’t know, you figure it out’ for SURE. I’ve never written a fic this long or stuck to a writing project this consistently in my life. Like ever. The last time I even came close was my first NaNoWriMo when I was 16, which was, uh… years ago, plural, and I’ll leave it at that. 😂
How did you get the idea for i don’t know, you figure it out?
“There’s a dead rat on his doorstep.” That’s it. That first sentence/scene popped into my head while I was bored at work, and then I started thinking, “hey, you know what? I don’t know that anyone’s ever done a fic where Max and Steve trade places for S4; that might be fun.”  And then NaNoWriMo was coming up, so I thought it would be cool to try live posting a fully improvised fic every day for a month to see how many words I could write. And then this tragic wet cat version of Steve Harrington grabbed me by the throat and took over my whole life.
When writing Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!, what was something you didn’t expect?
How SAPPY these two got!! My god, boys, I’m trying to write smut over here, stop having a beautiful existential crisis! (I blame Briston Maroney for that though lol, I think I listened to ‘Body’ like 1400 times that month.)
What inspired Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!?
@inklessletter posted this totally gorgeous art of Steve and Eddie recording themselves kissing, and I promptly lost my mind.  
What was your favorite part to write from biting you biting you biting you- oh! kissing you!?
This exchange: Steve: “What? I’m just asking!” Robin: “You’re being embarrassing!” Steve: “No, you’re just embarrassed. There’s a difference.” Like it’s just so them lmao
How do/did you feel writing i don’t know, you figure it out?
You know when you set out on a long hike in the summer and three hours later your calves are screaming and you’re covered in sweat and your sunburn’s starting to itch and this one horse fly won’t fuck off and your cell phone doesn’t even get service out here so literally WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO YOURSELF, and then you climb that last hill and look out on the most beautiful landscape you’ve ever seen in your silly little life? Basically that.
What was the most difficult part of writing Plot Holes?
Ooh, that one was fun! The only real difficulty was trying to keep it to a microfic because the concept could definitely be fleshed out to a full story — @griefabyss69 and I were joking around about “what if someone did ‘plot hole’ for the @steddiemicrofic prompt fill?” and then that fic just fell out of my head in about 15 minutes. 
Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?
For sure! I’m currently super proud of the graveyard scene in the most recent update of TPAU — I don’t write true horror often, but I love horror so it was really fun to give it a try! Favorite line from any fic is probably this reference to ‘You’re Divine’ in my fic Monsoon Season because I love uncomfortably-aroused prude Eddie, and his internal monologue cracks me up every time I think about it: Freddie Monsoon’s debut novel is called The Fourth Chime, and it is, as far as Eddie can tell, the first installment in a series of unapologetically filthy fuck fests about a man whose lover gets flung into an alternate dimension during an apocalyptic event and miraculously returns as some sort of… sexy bat-boy with a fucking horse dong and a bite kink. Critics are calling it “the most romantic novel of the last decade.” It’s me; I’m Critics.
Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?
My main project right now is finishing TPAU if it kills me, but beyond that, I have a few one-shots for @subeddieweek in the works, including a collab with @griefabyss69 that I’m so so SO excited to share. It’s hot, it’s funny, I can’t wait for y’all to read it. 
Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?
First of all, as @wormdebut would say: I think you’re pretty. Thank you so much for all your hard work! I love this blog, and I love answering questions <3 Secondly: - Preheat your oven to 400 degrees. - Toss cubed sweet potatoes and parsnips, sliced sweet onion, and fresh garlic in a mix of olive oil, salt, pepper, and rosemary, and then spread in a single layer on a foil-lined baking sheet.  - Bake for ~40-45 minutes. (Potatoes and parsnips should be soft without being mushy when you poke them with a fork.) - Prep your sauce: I made a dijon drizzle situation by mixing olive oil mayo, a dash of dijon mustard, lemon juice, salt, pepper, garlic powder, and a splash of water, but you could also add a little dab of hot sauce, bbq sauce, or different mustards. Basically just grab like four condiments out of your fridge and play around with the flavors you like until you make a mix that’s thin enough to pour. - Drizzle roasted veggies with sauce. - Enjoy a very tasty side dish (or do what I did and eat the whole sheet as a meal like some sort of parsnip goblin because you were too lazy to make the main dish after chopping all those veggies) okay thank you love you byeeeee
Thank you to our author, @wynnyfryd, and our nominator, @griefabyss69! See more of Wynnyfryd's works featured on our page throughout the day!
Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!
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anystalker707 · 1 day
Text
way too good
Pairing: Shanks x [gn, afab] Reader Summary: Because your boyfriend bought you a strap-on to fuck him. Tags: bottom Shanks / he kinda loses it / but he has a sharp tongue / obliterate the old man
Requested by anon ["Heyyy! If you're interested, I'd like to request Shanks or Law (whoever you'd prefer) x ftm Male S/O smut, where he buys a strap-on for reader so he can finally top/dom them? Fluffy-ish or romantic if possible because I'm a sucker"]
MASTERLIST
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          With all the insistence that Shanks had put up, it was impossible to deny it to him, even more with how he would give you kisses between each plea, hugging you tightly and suffocating you with affection. You agreed without thinking much, in the end, and it quickly led to now.
The atmosphere grew thicker easily as he deepened the kiss, letting his tongue glide along yours before his mouth was pressed to your neck again, leaving behind a trail of love bites on your skin. His stubble scratched your skin, but you’d already gotten used to it, with so long of kissing.
“Come on, baby,” Shanks whispered as he felt your hands slip into his shirt, slowly undressing him. A grin laced his lips as he relaxed against the mattress and let you do all the work, as always. He interrupted himself with a high-pitched moan when your lips pressed to his pec, nipping and sucking while you pressed your thigh against the bulge in his pants.
“You better be nice or else I’ll give up on this.” You clicked your tongue and sat back on your legs, only taking a glance at Shanks’ face before you took your shirt off. The stupid grin continued on his face, though he made a defensive motion with his hand. You’d do something about it, but patience was key. Shanks couldn’t keep his hands off you even while you undressed, rubbing your waist, your chest, your thighs—everywhere he could reach, sometimes going as far as to snatch a moan from you.
“I’ll give you the choice.” You stood up from the bed and got the box from the bedside table, securing everything was alright to put on the strap-on. Shanks practically drooled while he watched you, the bulge in his pants twitching in anticipation, with that dumb expression on his face. “I’ll let you choose the position,” you said, taking the lube from the box, and climbed on the bed again.
Shanks clicked his tongue, tilting his head. “Missionary, so I can see your pretty face while you argue with me.” Oh. Really? You raised your eyebrows with fake amusement, which only made his grin widen. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
You clicked your tongue with a scoff, shaking your head. “Undress already! Damn it!”
The slap you gave Shanks’ thigh only earned you a moan before he moved to get his pants and underwear off completely, promptly spreading his legs apart for you once he was done. “My love?”
Honestly, you loved what Shanks looked like. His muscles, the way he looked so juicy… You had to hold yourself back from biting on Shanks’ thigh or tit the moment you settled down between his legs. Your man, waiting for you to take him. It made the heat between your legs intensify, and you groaned softly, much to Shanks’ pleasure.
“What? Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” Shanks teased with a chuckle, interrupted by how his breath hitched the moment the cold lube hit his balls, slowly dripping down to his hole. “Fuck…”
“You’re talking too much, my love,” you muttered with a glare. Once there was a decent amount of lube, you scooped it up with a couple of fingers and started pushing it into Shanks, slipping two fingers past the ring of muscles with relative ease, since you’d been fingering him quite often during the past week. He’d planned all that terribly well. Either way, he was as sensitive as ever, moaning and arching his back when your fingers curled inside him. His thigh was firm under your palm. Your fingers dug into the flesh, though it strained when he tensed up, requiring a firmer grip from you. “Shanks,” you muttered, feeling him clench around your fingers, squeezing his thigh as your fingers pressed down to the spot that made him gasp.
“You’re too good at it,” Shanks breathed in response, groaning at the loss of your fingers, squirming a little.
You grabbed the lube again, though the aim was the dildo of the strap-on this time, adjusting your position between his legs. “I know. What did you expect from me?” You raised an eyebrow and watched him scoff while spreading the lube over the toy.
“You know, I— Nngh, fuck,” Shanks cut himself off when the tip of the dildo pressed to his hole, pushing in just a little. “You’re terrible, y’know that?”
“You’re just stupid,” you chuckled, taking a firm grip of Shanks’ thighs, and it was a matter of seconds before he was gasping again, his answer giving place to a moan when the toy pushed inside him completely. “You talk too much for someone who was begging his partner to fuck him,” you said, raising an eyebrow at him, giving Shanks a moment.
The sudden pleasure had made Shanks’ eyes widen as he arched his back and grasped the pillow. So he was more sensitive when he was taking it? Surely interesting. A small smirk laced your lips as you waited for a while, rubbing circles into his thighs with your thumbs.
“Move,” Shanks groaned, bucking his hips.
“What’s the magic word?” You teased with a grin, your eyes trailing down his body. His cock heaved back against his lower stomach, swollen and flushed, dripping pre-cum against his happy trail.
Shanks huffed, his breath hitching for a moment. “…Please,” he mumbled, finally, looking at you through narrowed eyes.
You nodded exaggeratedly. “Now, that’s better!”
Shanks would probably curse you or snap something in response, but it didn’t matter once you started moving your hips. He moaned, arching his back as he grasped the pillow under his head tightly. “Mmph, fuck, love…” Shanks closed his eyes for a moment.
You watched the dildo sink into his ass, observing the ring of lube accumulating by the base of the toy. “Hot,” you muttered before looking at Shanks’ face again and biting your lip. He really was more sensitive like that. Your breath caught in your throat at the sound of his moans as they filled the room along with the sound of skin against skin.
“More, babe, I know you can do better,” Shanks mumbled as he bucked his hips again, groaning softly.
“Shut up,” you clicked your tongue with a sigh, trying to keep yourself together. It was so hot, but you needed to focus on pleasing Shanks right now, as much as you craved his touch so much.
Shank’s moans cracked when you started moving your hips faster, hooking a hand under one of his knees to push his leg up against himself. The new angle made Shanks let out a sound that resembled a whimper, which managed to send a shiver down your spine. Fuck, so hot. You couldn’t help the groan that escaped your lips before you leaned in and pressed your lips to his chest, nipping and kissing on the skin while thrusting into him, seeming to find the perfect angle to make him go weak. His thigh trembled under your hold, his moans sounding whiny.
“The fuck you’re doing…” Shanks panted, gulping as he bucked his hips again. “I’ll cum fast if you keep up with that…” He breathed.
You couldn’t help but breathe a chuckle, shaking your head lightly. “Where did all that attitude go, hm?” You bit down on Shank’s chest hard enough to leave a mark that would probably be seen later, given his habit of leaving his shirt half-open.
A high-pitched moan came from Shanks as he arched his back, throwing his head back against the pillow. “Fuck,” he breathed as he looked at you through half-lidded eyes, with a crease between his furrowed eyebrows, and that face would probably keep in your mind for a while. When was the last time you felt so turned on?
Ignoring Shanks’ warnings, you just paused for a moment so that you could adjust your position to fuck into him properly again, and it seemed to be even better. Shanks hissed softly, rolling his eyes as your cock sank inside him repeatedly. Whatever you were doing to him, you were doing it right, reducing Shanks’ smug posture to crumbs under you. He pressed his eyes shut as his breath became more labored, and you couldn’t help but feel pride swelling in your chest because you could do that to Shanks.
Shanks seemed so lost in the bliss, his eyes barely open as the red strands fell over his face, sticking to the skin due to the light sweat.
“You’re so pretty,” you mumbled, fingers sinking into his thigh, and you were desperate for any kind of pleasure. Could you cum just from fucking Shanks like that? Just watching him squirm and moan around the toy that he’d bought for you to fuck him hard.
Maybe Shanks said something, but it just sounded like a groan as he arched his back and wrapped his arm around your neck to pull you closer, so you resumed your kisses on his chest, nipping and sucking on the skin while fucking him nice and good.
“Can you cum just from behind, Shanks?” You mumbled against his chest, observing his face with amusement. “Fuck, I want to make you cum untouched so bad…” And he let out a moan at your words, fingers sinking into your back. Damn it, Shanks was so responsive… You’d never heard him like that before.
“Y’talk too much,” Shanks breathed, voice strained, and you couldn’t help but continue observing him in amusement, intently. You couldn’t miss his orgasm face.
It only took Shanks a few thrusts before he was arching his back off the bed and squirming, bucking his hips into yours until he came, his cock spurting the thick cum, and you swear that he came more than usual, and fuck, what a sight. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, feeling yourself grow each time more aroused with it.
“Shanks, I need you so bad,” you breathed.
.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.
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Chapter Two: The Ticket and Your Shitty Car
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Pairing: Professor! Steve Harrington x Best Friends Dad! Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Lots of angst (sorry folks), mentions of anxiety and bullying, cigarette smoking, Eddie and Steve being sexy, kissing 👀, Reader is in their mid 20s and Steve and Eddie are in their early to mid 40s. Lemme know if i've missed anything.
**THERE WILL BE LOTS SMUT 18+ CONTENT EVENTUALLY SO MINORS THIS IS NOT A SPACE FOR YOU, MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED,IF YOU DONT HAVE AN AGE IN YOUR BIO I WILL LIKELY ASSUME YOU'RE A MINOR AND PROBABLY BLOCK. DM/ASK FOR ANY QUESTIONS**
Summary: After a few weeks of getting closer to Eddie and Steve feelings bubble to the surface
Authors Note: I'm so excited for this chapter and the rest of the series i've been having so much fun writing this! I've never written angst before so i'm interested in the response it'll get! And I pinky promise ya'll are getting smut in the next chapter 😈 7k words
**Chapter One**
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A couple days had gone by since your first interactions with the two men that have been plaguing both your waking thoughts and your dreams. You’ve woken up more than once this week from your body buzzing and your panties soaked through. Lips on skin, rough hands on your hips, deep voices whispering in your ear. Groaning yourself fully awake and grabbing your vibrator to finish the job, that isn’t nearly as good as whatever was happening in your dreams.
Because of these dreams it made it impossible to look at Steve during class, only looking when you absolutely had to. Avoiding Mr. Munson was a bit easier, he either wasn’t home much when you were with Violet, or he was in the garage. You convinced yourself that you would just eventually get over your little crushes, and if you just avoided them long enough then things would go back to normal, and you’d have your sanity back.
But things didn’t quite work out that way. After you had gotten your ticket on the first day, you decided you would just pay it off yourself, to avoid another possibly embarrassing interaction with Steve. You had your parking pass now so you wouldn’t get another ticket. But you had a busy week with assignments and kept forgetting to take care of it. By the end of the week, you had completely forgotten about it, until Fridays sociology class. It was a normal class; Steve was talking about the theoretical approach to sociology. At the end of class, you were supposed to hand in your paper on Social Darwinism, you had spent many late nights making sure that this paper specifically was perfect. The problem was that when you were meant to hand it in at the end of class, you couldn’t find it, and you were starting to panic. Almost all the other students had left or were in the process of handing in their papers and you were left anxiously digging through your bookbag.
“Oh, how the tables turn, need some help there?”
You freeze, looking up from the familiar black converse that you could see next to your bookbag. Your anxious eyes are met with playful honey brown ones, that make you relax slightly.
“Sorry no I’m good I know it’s in here somewhere,” you reply a little anxious. You didn’t want your professor to think that this was any reflection of you as a student or your work ethic.
Steve watches you dig through your bag for another few seconds when you finally find it, in a folder you don’t remember putting it in. When you get the folder out of your bookbag, the ticket sitting at the bottom of your bag falls out onto the floor right at Steves feet. You’re too busy to notice, trying to make sure all of the pages of your paper are in order, and you have all your sources. When you finally look up from the papers in front of you, you see Steve holding the ticket that you got on the first day of school.
You panic and look up and into his eyes, he doesn’t look mad, but he looks confused. “I thought I told you I’d fix this for you if you ever got a ticket. Why didn’t you tell me?” he said.
“I- I didn’t want to bother with you something so silly, I was going to pay it, but with a bunch of papers due, I just forgot I’m sorry,” you blurt out.
Steve raises his hand to silence your apologies casually, and you’re ready for him to yell at you or at the very least be disappointed in you.
Shit, why did you not just pay it the day you got it?
“It’s not your fault honey, there’s no need for you to apologize, okay?” he says warmly. Your shoulders relax a bit more, his voice giving you reassurance.
“I swear I really did mean to pay it, I just didn’t want to bother you,” you confess.
Steves eyes soften. “Y/N you are never a bother, plus it's my fault for being the worst teacher in history and not giving you a parking pass.” He jokes.
“Steve you’re one of my favorite teachers, nowhere near my list of worst teachers.” You reveal.
He smiles widely and raises his eyebrow; you swear you can feel your insides thaw. With the playful look on his face, he almost seems younger, you could only imagine how attractive he was when he was younger, even just a glimpse is enough to make your stomach do flips.
“Oh so there IS list? Well, I demand to know where I am on your favorite teachers list, maybe it’ll give me motivation to try harder in class.” He winks at you in retort. You swear you could cum in your pants right now, how dare he be so beautiful and perfect, and funny.
You think hard for a second, you can’t put him first you think his ego probably couldn’t handle it, also it would just bring you more embarrassment. But he very easily is your favorite teacher, he makes jokes during class, makes sure his lectures are easy to understand and enjoyable, and seems to genuinely care about all his students, it’s very hard to rank any teacher above him.
“I hope your ego can handle it Steve, but you’re second.” you gush.
“You wound me, SECOND? That’s basically failure I demand to know who could possibly rank higher than me?” he jokingly stands up straighter, adjusts his tie, and holds his hand to his heart.
Damn, you hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“Uh, Professor Buckley, my Gender Studies Professor, I love her class,” you confess.
Steves eyes couldn’t roll farther back into his head even if he tried, you almost worried that they’d get stuck.
“You’re telling me, my best friend has already won you over? I’ve sat in on some of her classes and there is no way that Robin is funnier than I am!” he exclaimed as he puts his hands on his hips.
“You know Professor Buckley.. er Robin? Also, you definitely top her in the funny department, how did I know you wouldn’t be satisfied with second.” you retort easily. You could get used to this, the casual flirting, smiling with your professor, it felt easier than breathing. Once you got over the fact that he was one of the most handsome men that you’ve ever seen in your whole life.
“Know her? She’s been my best friend since high school, and a major pain in my ass. Second place is basically losing, everyone knows that babe.” The pet name slipped off his tongue so effortlessly.
Your eyes must have gone wide because Steve looks slightly embarrassed and rubs the back of his neck.
Babe babe babe babe babe babe babe HE CALLED YOU BABE
“Well then I guess you gotta step it up Professor.” you reply, trying to ease the tension in the room.
He smiles at you gratefully, “yeah I guess so,” he chuckles.
“Anyways I don’t want to keep you again for the second time this week, I’ll see you in class on Monday Steve.” you say as you go to stand up and walk past him. You’re about halfway to the door before you hear him call out.
“Hey, wait up, uh why don’t you come with me to my office so I can get that parking ticket taken care of for you,” he explains.
“You sure? I don’t want to make you late for your next class.”
“I’m the one who got you into this mess, please let me help you fix it?” he asks gently.
“Lead the way professor,”you answer playfully.
He smiles that flashy Steve Harrington smile and shows you the way towards his office.
“It’s just down this hallway,” he shares.
Then you feel him put his hand at the small of your back guiding you into a room on the righthand side, his touch lights your body on fire. It takes everything in you not to lean into his touch. You can smell his cologne, now that you’re so close to him. It’s a fairly clean scent with hints of musk and spice at the end, a more modern scent then you expected from a man his age. It only makes you want him more, to lean in closer and smell his scent mixed with the cologne.
You’re snapped out of your daze when Steve picks up the phone receiver and punches in a phone number. His fingers almost covered the buttons on the phone, and it made your legs squeeze together, thinking back to the multiple dreams you had about those specific fingers all over you. Steve looks up at you smiling lightly, surely just trying to fill the silence that filled the room. You hoped he hadn’t magically learned how to read minds in the short walk from his classroom to his office or you’d be toast.
His office wasn’t anything glamorous, it was an average size, with a nice desk and comfy looking chair, and big window with a view that overlooked the campus. The only thing making it uniquely his are the loads of pictures of him and Professor Buckley, and a few other guys and girls that looked around his age or maybe a bit younger. Documenting various birthdays, weddings, and get togethers.
While Steve is on the phone you take a moment to look at them, you see a picture of Steve being Professor Buckleys best man in her wedding to a pretty woman with dark brown hair and blue eyes. They all looked so happy, it made you smile, it looked like a really special day. Also noting that there are no wedding photos of him or pictures of him with a girlfriend, making your heart internally soar.
When you finally tear your eyes away from the photos, you hear the end of a conversation Steve is having with someone on the phone.
“Thanks again Reg, I promise it won’t happen again. Yeah, you too, take care. Say hi to the wife and kids for me," he said.
He puts down the receiver and looks at where you’re standing, and gestures to the photo you’re looking at.
“Yeah, Robins wedding! It was a really great day,” he reminisces. He goes onto explain that Robin ended up marrying his ex from High School, Nancy Wheeler. You smile and nod along to the anecdotes he talks about that day, trying to absorb everything he tells you about his life like a sponge.
“And by the end of the night Lucas and Max lead everyone in a impromptu sing-a-long to Never Ending Story, It was hilarious,” He says. You could combust, you can see just how clearly he loves his friends and how much they mean to him. He shakes his head and smiles wide at the memory, his smile being infectious, you smile back at him.
“Sounds like really good time Steve,” you reply.
“Yeah, it was, it really was.” he shares, he seems a little lost in thought for a moment before smiling up at you. “Sorry I don’t mean to bore you with my stories of the old days, I don’t get to gush about the people I love very often, so its nice to have someone listen," He confessed.
Your heart melts, he’s such a sweetheart. “No no please, I enjoy hearing them, makes you more a person than just my teacher. Plus, maybe at some point you’ll slip up and tell me something embarrassing about yourself. Then you’re done for Harrington,” you jab.
     He raises his eyebrows at you and looks impressed. “That’ll never happen, I’ve never done anything embarrassing in my life ever,” he states sarcastically.
     “Well, I’ll just have to ask Professor Buckley, my favorite teacher, about it won’t I?” you interject.
     His face goes from his handsome boyish grin to fake terror in a split second, “I will give you whatever grade you want in my class if you don’t do that, she’d go on for hours, might even keep you after class just to rub it in my face.”  
     You could tell that there was some truth to his words, and you know your gender studies professor well enough to know that she really would just rip him a new one. You giggle back at him, unable to keep it in.
“She really would tear you to shreds, wouldn’t she?” you cackle. His face softens, “Yes she’s evil, just awaiting my downfall I swear!” he smiles softly at you.
You both look at each other a bit longer before Steve clears his throat. “Anyways um, I talked to the guy in campus security and you’re good to go, you don’t have to pay the ticket,” He spoke.
You had honestly completely forgotten that was the reason you were even in his office; his demeanor makes you feel at home in your own skin and were just happy to not have anxious thoughts rolling around inside of your head.
“Oh, right yeah, thank you so much, you really didn’t need to go through all this trouble for me,” you said.
“No trouble at all, really. I should probably get going though, my next class starts soon.” he explained looking at the very expensive looking watch on his wrist.
You try your best not to show your disappointment, wishing to stay in this little bubble with him a bit longer.
“Of course, yeah. Thank you again Steve,” you respond.
He leads you back out the door with his hand on your back again, maybe this time a bit firmer than the last, and you weren’t complaining. You both wave your goodbyes for the weekend before you head out to the parking lot, and he heads towards his next class.
You were relieved to be going home, this first week of school has tested you mentally and emotionally and you were ready for a little break. You hop in your car, and twist your key in the ignition, but to your surprise, instead of your car roaring to life like it usually does. It just stalled, unable to start. You try the ignition a few more times before you rest your head on your steering wheel.
Just your fucking luck
You take your phone out of your jean pocket and call Violet to see if she knows any good mechanics in the area. But you only get her voicemail. “Come on Vi,”you mutter to yourself, trying her cell again and again. Only to get her voicemail each and every time. You couldn’t very well leave your car in the parking lot overnight, then you’d surely get another ticket. But what other option did you have?
You make the decision to call Violet’s home phone, thinking maybe she’s too engrossed in a TV show or something to see her phone going off. It rings a few times before someone picks up.
“Munson residence.” a deep familiar voice answers the phone.
Shit
“Hi Mr. Munson, is Vi there?” you reply.
“Nah she left about an hour or two ago to head to work, everything okay?” he asks a slight concern in his voice.
“Oh uh yeah, my- my car just isn’t starting and I don’t know any mechanics in the area who could come and take a look at it,” you respond anxiously
You hear what you assume is him blowing out some smoke from his mouth, you shake your head trying to stay on track.
“Any mechanic out here is gonna charge you an arm an a leg to come look at your car right before the weekend, let me come and take a look at it myself,” he suggests.
Your body runs cold, you couldn’t deal with another interaction with BOTH of them in the same day again, you’d burst into flames.
“Oh gods no that’s really okay Mr. Munson. I’ll just leave my car here overnight its no big deal, I’ll just walk home its not that far,” You babble anxiously.
You hear him scoff on the other end of the phone, “What do you mean walk home? Where are you Y/N?” his tone getting a bit more serious than the lighthearted goofy tone you usually get from him.
“I’m at school, it’s fine really, my apartment isn’t that far from-,” you squeak.
“Let me just grab my tools and I’ll meet you in the parking lot, which building are you in front of?” he interjects, you can hear some rustling on the other end of the phone.
“I-,“ you think about arguing with him but you know that in the end Mr. Munson is a stubborn man and you will lose. “I’m in front of the Humanities and Social Sciences building, its right by-,“ you confess.
He chuckles “Oh yeah I know the one, be there in a sec, hang tight.” he says before hanging up the phone.
You bring your phone down onto your lap in defeat. You hide in your car until you see his car pull up, you don’t need anyone seeing you, especially a certain sociology professor. His big black truck pulls into the space next to you, and you get out of your car to greet him.
“Hey thanks for coming all the way out here, I hope I didn’t take you away from anything or anyone,” you look up at him innocently. He stands about a foot away from you, but even then, you could see just how much taller he is than you. He could probably use you as an arm rest.
He gives you an easy-going smile, “No problem at all sweetheart, I’m happy to help!” You give him the keys and he goes to try and start the car and it stalls again and he clicks his tongue.
Your mind going back to the dreams you’ve had of his tongue on you, on your skin. You shiver at the thought, and you squeeze your arms around you willing yourself not to fall apart.
Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice, too preoccupied with opening the hood and looking inside. He takes off his leather jacket and lays it on top of the hood and rolls up his sleeves. He fiddles around inside of the hood for a few seconds before popping his head around the corner.
“Looks like your spark plug is shot, I have an extra on me in case of emergencies, it’s your lucky day pretty lady,” He announces cheerily.
Pretty lady
“Oh, thank you Mr. Munson, you’re a life saver!” you beam.
He looks at you again one more time, studying you for the second time this week, he looks like he’s contemplating something in his head. His eyes are like lasers on your skin, heating you up from the inside.
“It’s Eddie, you can call me Eddie honey, you’ve known me long enough.” he says as he smiles at you, the edges of his eyes crinkling.
You can’t help but smile back, “Okay, thanks, E-eddie,” you stammer out. His name feeling so odd on your tongue, he’s your best friend’s dad, would Violet think its weird that you call him by his first name now?
He smiles contently like he made the right decision and goes back to working on your car. You lean against his car just watching him work, seeing how his hands knowingly move on all the parts of your car that you don’t even know the names of, only being able to identify the windshield wiper fluid cap and oil fill cap. You look at his now uncovered arms that you didn’t see the last time you got a good look at him, you could see right near his left wrist Violets name tattooed in beautiful cursive, and D20 right above his left elbow. You see how veiny his hands and arms are, probably due to years of playing the guitar and working on various motorcycles and cars.
“So, what are you going to school for?” he says, looking at you through the corner of his eye while he works.
“Psychology mostly,” you reply easily.
“What do you want to do with it? Your degree?” he responds.
“I’d love to work with kids, I felt like no one ever listened to me as a kid, so I’d love to be able to be a safe space for kids to express themselves.” You shared, this was something you’ve been passionate for a while, wanting to work with kids. Giving them something that you never got when you were a kid, a place where they felt understood even if they didn’t feel like that at home.
He looks up at you from his work with an impressed look on his face, “That’s really fucking cool Y/N, I wish stuff like that had been around when I was a kid. Woulda made Middle School and High School a lot more bearable for me, trust me.”
Your heartbreaks at his confession, you figured that he probably wasn’t always the suave sexy metal head that he is now, and he probably got teased a lot when he was a kid. It reminded you of your own experiences in school, teased and never really fitting in anywhere. Violet went through something similar except it never really seemed to bother her, she was always the type of kid that always knew who she was and didn’t let anyone get in her way. You always admired that about her.
“Honestly me too,” you confess.
Eddie raises an eyebrow at you, “No way, You and Vi had loads of friends in Middle School,” he says.
“Yeah, in Middle School sure, but high school was brutal without her there, kids are mean.” You say sadly, rubbing your boot into the asphalt trying to wash away depressing memories of eating in the bathroom and crying yourself to sleep at night.
Eddie scrunches his eyebrows together and nods knowingly, sharing that feeling. “Yeah, teenagers are fucking assholes.”
You nod knowingly, as Eddie steps around the front of your car to get into the driver’s seat, scootching closing to you, grabbing the side of your waist as he passes you. You take a shallow breath, and your mouth runs dry. His hand felt so perfect on your waist, like it belonged there… and then your mind wanders to Steve, his touch felt the same way.
Eddie got into the front seat and turned your key in the ignition, and sure enough your car roared to life.
“Huzzahh!” Eddie cheered, getting out of the driver’s seat and bowing to you. A smile plastered across his face in triumph.
“There ya go honey good as new, although you should stop by the house sometime, so I can put a new battery in your car, it looks like it’s about to take a shit on you, and I want you to be safe during the Winter.” He says casually wiping the oil and grease off his fingers with the rag in his tool kit.
He wants you to be safe
“That would be great, thank you again, honestly I don’t know what I would have done without you. What do I owe you Eddie?” you ask. Surely, he’d want some compensation for driving all the way out here on a Friday, probably ruining his plans to come help his daughters best friend with her car.
“On the house, and don’t fight me on this I’m not accepting any money from you.” He says slightly stern but in a way that makes you smile lightly.
“I’ll figure out a way to make it up to you or something, do you like cookies? I’ll bake you some cookies for all your help,” you insist.
“IF you happen to make double chocolate chip cookies and bring them over to the house, for Violet of course, I wouldn’t say no to one or two,” he says slyly.
“I’ll bring them over this weekend.” you say determined to not be in debt to him.
He packs his tools back into the trunk of his truck and shrugs his leather jacket back on, “I’ll hold you to that sweetheart.” he winks at you before getting back into his truck and waving to you as he drives off the lot.
You get back into your newly fixed car and drive home to your apartment, first thing on the agenda, a very cold shower.
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The next few weeks had been an absolute whirlwind of epic proportions. Steve came back with your grades for your latest paper, and when yours got passed to you, at the top of your paper, “SEE ME AFTER CLASS” was written in blue pen. After class he explained that he was “very impressed” with your work and effort you spent on your paper and asked you to be his TA and help him a couple of days a week. Help him with grading papers, answering any questions your classmates had on assignments or class subjects, and help with lectures for upcoming classes. You couldn’t have said yes faster, not only did you have a huge massive crush on him. But you genuinely enjoyed his class and were excited to prove yourself. On those days you spent most of the time after your classes, spent huddled in his office with him grading papers or talking about different upcoming subjects you were going to learn in class. It was becoming one of your favorite parts of your day, you always left his office in the best mood. Plus, the flirting and your attraction to him only grew during this time, you noticed he started going more and more out of his way to touch you, or holding eye contact with you longer than was probably appropriate. You welcomed it, Steve made you feel like you were on cloud nine, some nights the two of you were left in his office until after dark, after all the work was done, just flirting and talking about life. Eating shitty takeout food that he’d grab from the cafeteria or the two of you would order in.
He always treated you with respect letting you talk about your feelings or whatever was on your mind, you eventually opening up to him about why you wanted to go into psychology, and he opened up to you about how he hadn’t always been the way he is now, and how there are parts of his past he’s ashamed of. The two of you bonded over your lack of family you had in your life, you told him about your parents basically ditching you after graduation and he told you about how his parents cut him off when he told them what decided what he wanted to do with his life and hadn’t heard much from him since. He reassured you that the only family that actually mattered was your chosen family and the people who love you that you let into your little corner of the world. You talked about your views on the world and your dreams. You liked that about him, that he listened to you and how modest and genuine he is, you assumed at first glance that someone with good looks like him and his upbringing he’d have an large ego. Which wasn’t entirely wrong, but not in a bad way. You’d come to really like Steve Harrington, he had an ego the size of a lake but a heart to match.
Which made it even more confusing on the days that you didn’t spend in his office. See you had saved up enough money for school and your expenses for the first couple of weeks, but that money only stretched so far. So, you looked for a job, and you became desperate. Being in a college town, good jobs that weren’t already taken by other college students were far and few between and being a TA wasn’t enough. So, one night after school when you were at Violets, Eddie overheard you talking about your dilemma, and offered you a job working for him. Eddie worked as a record producer and worked closely with a few music managers who were looking for social media manager. Which you happily accepted, there were no set hours and you could do a majority of your work in your pjs at home unless you needed to get Eddies opinion on something then you’d spend time out in the garage with him while he gave you advice or things the label is looking for in terms of the clients image or engagement numbers you needed to hit.
Sometimes you’d even make up excuses just to go over and spend time with him in the garage. He was patient with you while you slowly opened up to him about things that had happened over the past few years that you never wanted to worry Violet with, cheating boyfriends, bad friends, financial problems, and he took it all with stride, listening to and giving advice where he could. He’d spend time reminiscing about the “glory days” when his band, Corroded Coffin, used to play gigs every weekend at the hideout, a small bar on the outside of town. Or when he was in high school, he ran a club in school called the Hellfire Club where all his friends would play DnD, he even showed you that he got Hell Fire tattooed across his knuckles. You’d spend hours over there just tucked away in Eddies little corner of the house, sometimes he’d play songs for you on his guitar, or when he found out you had never played DnD he spent a few nights teaching you all the basics in case you ever wanted to play. You liked the way you felt when you were around Eddie, in a similar way that Steve did, Eddie quieted your thoughts of self-doubt and anxiety that usually swirled around in your head. You really liked Eddie, and it made your feelings even more confused because you felt guilty keeping all of this from Violet. You didn’t know how she would react to you having a crush on her dad, and you never wanted to put your friendship with her in danger. She was basically the only family you had, and you intended to keep it that way, even if it meant keeping your crush on her father a secret.
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It all came to a head about a month later. You were staying late in Steve’s office grading papers while he was reading over some scientific studies that he was going to go over in class that following week. You were reading over a specific paper, a girl who sat behind you in class, who giggled at Steve during the first day of class. She had a lot of typos in her paper, and you had a hard time following her methods and asked for Steves opinion. He got up from his desk and went over to the other side of his desk where you were sitting, hovering over you so his face was close to yours. You loved when he did this, being able to see the honey bits in his eyes or the way his eyebrows scrunch together when he was thinking really hard, or how he ran his tongue along his lips to wet them.
 For some reason the air in the room seems extra electrified, the tension being so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Your breath hitched as he got extra close to read a specific part in the paper, you could smell his cologne so clearly it was intoxicating. Steve turned to you to tell you what points to dock from her paper, but you didn’t hear a single word he was saying, it was all drowned out by the lust you felt for him. You think he could sense it too, his eyes kept flickering between your eyes and your lips.
Oh gods was this really happening?
You could see his face getting closer and closer to yours, you closed your eyes, bracing for impact. Your heart was beating faster than you ever thought humanly possible. And then, he kissed you. More intensely than you’d ever been kissed before, he started out soft, testing the waters. Slowly brushing his lips against yours, working up intensity until his tongue prodded your lips asking for an invitation in. The invitation happily accepted by you, you welcomed him in with your lips and sighed into the kiss, allowing your hand to grasp at the hairs at the nape of his neck. He held onto the side of your face like if he let go, you’d vanish. You kissed like this for a minute or two, lips melding together and tongues intertwining. He tasted like his spearmint gum that he chews sometimes, and his lips were softer than you ever thought humanly possible.
But as quickly as it started, it stopped. Steve de-tangled himself from your grip and stood back.
“Fuck, holy shit, I- Y/N I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have done that. I’m your teacher for Christ’s sake… FUCK!” he shouted.
You jump at the volume of his voice, you were not used to this Steve, or the tone he was using. He paced around the room for a few minutes, and you looked at your shoes embarrassed. Embarrassed because you weren’t sorry it happened. You had been dreaming for weeks about what his lips would feel like or what he'd taste like.
“I’m not Steve, you don’t need to be sorry because.. because I wanted it to happen, I’ll only be your student for a few more months and then after that we can do whatever we want,” you blurt out in desperation. Allowing the thoughts and dreams that hide in your head to spill out of your mouth. Steve sighs and sits back down in his chair, taking his glasses off his face and pinching the bridge of his nose with his middle finger and thumb.
“I- I think you should just go Y/N, I need to figure out what to do. This shouldn’t have happened and I’m sorry it did,” he murmurs.
His words act like daggers in your heart, stealing all the breath from your lungs. All the worst-case scenarios that played out in your head when you felt insecure, now playing out right in front of you. You were angry, you know he feels the same way but he’s too much of a coward to do anything about it.
“Fuck you Steve, fuck you!” you bite out through your teeth, not allowing the tears to flow from your eyes, just yet. He just rejected you, the last thing you wanted was for him to see you cry. You pack up all the things that had been splayed-out all over Steve’s desk, shoving them into your bookbag, and storming out of the room.
Before you’re even out of the building the tears start streaming down your face, you choke back sobs as you get into your car. You bury your head in your hands, your shoulders shaking from how hard you were crying. You can’t go home, you thought. Not to an empty apartment where it’s even more apparent just how alone you are.
You put the key into the ignition and go to the only other place in town that you can think of going to, Violet’s house. You prayed to any god that could hear you, that Violet was home, but Eddie was not. You did not want him to see you like this, especially over a guy. He’d heard all the pathetic stories of love that hadn’t worked out you didn’t need to add another to the list.
Somehow luck was on your side with this, Eddie’s car was not in the driveway, only Violets. You get out of the car, not even bothering to lock it and run up to the door and let yourself inside with the key Violet had given you after your first week in Hawkins. Tears still streaming down your face, you take in your new surroundings; Violet was sitting on the couch watching some dumb rom com and eating popcorn. She looks startled by the sudden intrusion and the state you were in. Your mascara all smudged, and you had tears streaming down your face.
“Y/N? What happened?” she coos. She gets off the couch and walks over to you, her face softens when she gets closer to you, her face now shrouded in worry. She pulls you fiercely into a hug and just lets you cry on her shoulder. Eventually she brings you over to the couch and she gets you to tell her the events that have unfolded. She listened intently while you told her about your professor and how you felt about him, and then about how he rejected you after a mind-blowing kiss. She held your hand the entire time, rubbing soothing circles into your hand.
Just as you had finished telling her what happened you heard the familiar jingle of the doorknob and the heavy boots that followed. You couldn’t look at him right now, not when you looked like this.
“Hey, hey party people, I didn’t know you were coming over tonight I shoulda got more beer from the store!” Eddie sang. The closer Eddie got to you he realized something was off and stopped in his tracks.
“Now’s not a good time dad,” Violet said, still focusing her attention on you.
“What happened? Y/N are you okay? Are you hurt? Did something happen with your car?” his questions flying by you a million miles a minute. Too exhausted to say anything you let Violet speak for you.
“She kissed a guy at school, and he rejected her,” Violet says as softly as she can.
“Y/N kissed a guy at school?” he said, you could hear an edge in his voice that made you flinch slightly.
“Yes, dad god did you have to repeat it? She’s been through enough tonight. Come Y/N lets go upstairs.” She says clearly annoyed with her dad’s lack of empathy.
You couldn’t bear to look at Eddie, so you allow Violet to usher you upstairs into her room. You two cuddle up in her bed, she lets you borrow some clothes to spend the night in and gives you a makeup wipe to wash the mascara and mostly cried off eyeliner off your face. You felt so taken care of by her, you remember you used to do this for her in Middle School when boys would be shitheads to her, it took a lot to break Violet, but boys are the worst.
At some point Violet fell asleep when you guys were listening to a true crime podcast, you felt your tummy grumble and slowly slipped out of her room to find a snack in the kitchen. You were so worked up after the incident with Steve you had forgotten to eat something more than a few handfuls of popcorn. Downstairs was more quiet than usual, you couldn’t hear soft metal music coming from the garage or Eddies light humming. You assumed maybe he had gone out for the night.
     Until he scared the shit out of you sitting at the kitchen table, silently. He looked upset, nursing a glass of amber liquid in his hand.
“Holy fuck you scared me, warn a woman, jeez!” you say, sounding a little more like your normal self when your alone with him. Usually, Eddie would retort with a smart-ass remark, but instead you got silence and a slight sad smile on his face. You sense he’s not in the mood, so you move farther into the kitchen to grab yourself an iced tea from the fridge and make yourself a sandwich.
It was usually never this awkward between the two of you, it broke your heart a bit. You just lost Steve and now it felt like you were losing Eddie too.
“Did he kiss you or did you kiss him?” he asked quietly.
You jumped a little not expecting him to speak. Trying to word things very carefully so there was no confusion.
“He kissed me and then I kissed him back, and then he broke off the kiss and told me to leave.” You sigh sadly and take a big gulp of your iced tea.
“Idiot.” he muttered under his breath.
You thought that’s what you heard but you didn’t know for certain.
“What?” you question.
“I said he’s an idiot.” he said a bit louder for you to hear clearly.
That made your aching heart flutter inside your chest. Men are impossible to read.
“Oh.” you murmur, not really sure what to say.
“He’s an idiot because I’d never let a girl like you go,” he says calmly.
You heart could beat outside of your chest right now, his words set your skin on fire. But you were simultaneously hit with overwhelming guilt. Violet. Your best friend. The one sleeping soundly upstairs who would never do anything to hurt you.
“Yeah, but there’s a lot more at stake here,” You say trying to tread lightly.
He abruptly pushes out of his chair and heads to the garage door. “Yeah I know.” he says, sounding a mix between disappointed and angry.
You could feel a new rush of tears welling in your eyes, not only did you lose Steve today, but you were going to lose Eddie too. Two out of your three safe spaces, gone in one day. You felt so small, like you were free falling and you couldn’t grab anything to save yourself.
“What do you want from me Eddie?” you say defeated, barely above a whisper.
Eddie stops at your words, opening up the door to the garage, so close to freedom. His eyes now soft, seeing the state of you. “Nothing sweetheart, I want nothing from you.”
You just nod at his words, slouching your shoulders trying to protect your broken heart. Willing yourself to accept the fact that you lost both of them today, and there’s nothing that you can do to change it. You look at the floor, watching your tears slowly cloud your vision. You just hoped he left the room before you start actually crying.
Then you hear the garage door shut and feel the last of your heart shatter with it. You look up to confirm what your heart already knew, that Eddie was gone.
But where a closed door should be, showed the outline of Eddie standing in front of a closed door. You tried to blink away the tears, to try and figure out if you were seeing things correctly. The look on Eddies face was between a mixture of pain and confliction, his fists squeezed at his sides.
“Fuck it.” is the last thing you hear him say before he takes long strides over to you in the kitchen. Now right in front of you he cradles your face in his hands and kisses you firmly. You wrap your arms around his neck, forcing him to stay. His calloused hands wiping away your tears. You moan into his touch, opening your mouth and allowing his tongue to dance with yours. He kisses you with such passion, showing you with actions he what couldn’t say with his words. You push him impossibly closer to you, willing the two of you to meld into one if that what it took, not letting him have the chance to leave you. He takes that as an invitation to lift you up and put you on the ledge of the kitchen counter. Your legs caging him in on either side of his body.
“Please don’t go.” you mutter wetly between kisses. Eddie moves from your mouth and leaves kisses from the edges of your wet eyes to a part on your neck that made your skin irrupt in goosebumps.
“Never baby, m not goin anywhere I promise.” he reassures nuzzling his nose against a sweet spot on your neck. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Feeling a little better than you did a minute ago. Kissing Eddie made every other rational thought cease to exist in your brain. Just you, and Eddie, your bodies moving in tandem with each other. Harmony.
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brucewaynehater101 · 3 days
Note
Brainrotting again
Ever read "A Thirteen Year Old's Fake ID" by OneoftheUnknown on ao3 ???
*cracks knuckles*
Lets take this idea and run away with it
Unreliable Narration, I choose you!
. · • ★ • · .
Tim—simply put—loves too much
Loves his parents too much to expose their neglect
Too much to do something as scandalous as get caught photographing Batman and Robin
Tim loves the Batman and Robins he's dreamed up too much to not follow him at night, not photograph them, not become Batman's Leash after Jason's passing so as to preserve the hope they symbolize, preserve the childhood hero he's loved for so long
Tim loves his parents too much to be caught being affiliated with Batman, even to the Dark Knight
Timothy Drake never becomes Robin after all . . .
Alvin does!
Alvin works desperately to drag Batman out of the pit of despair he is trapped within and spreading, works to become the most efficent co-worker, and works to build the paper trail that disproves any possibility of fraud
Wigs, contacts, makeup, civilian wear, hobby and even personality that differ dramatically from Drake and Draper are the cherries on top
. · • ★ • · .
Drake is perfect for his family name, and Draper is the idealized Robin who's light preserves the Night and Justice that is Batman
Yes, it is a pain concocting a personality which is the perfect Robin yet detestable enough to go unmourned, such a personality born of an upbringing that would stand up to scrutiny is such an impossible task for anybody not a Drake
Tim is confident he's done it. Once Alvin's no longer entrusted with the burden of Batman's Robin Leash, a Young Justice member, and a hero all around, nobody will gave a damn if he vanishes
[Jason's attack on Titan Towers, Damian's murder attempts, the constant calling of Replacement, his Sweet Sixteen, Dick taking away Robin and ruining his reputation in the hero community, nobody believing that Bruce is alive
Bart and Kon's deaths, the cloning he attempted in his G R I E F which will only serve to soil Draper's name further once it leaks at the press of a button]
All of that, all of that were utterly perfect moments, perfect to lash out in ways that would make Alvin detested more and more
The clock was ticking.
He is a leach of a cast over a long healed limb
. · • ★ • · .
Alvin hates Damian and Jason and Dick to the ends of the Earth. The first two tried to kill him, the third took away the Robin he wrongly thought belonged to him and he stole Red Robin just to be petty
He left a note saying he's only proving them wrong in Bruce being dead just to spite them
Alfred is the only person he is respectful at all too
He doesn't get paid enough
Alvin tried to ignore that giggling fighting to be made at the thought of Batman's accomplice having to suffer through all this
This feeling that's been there since his sixteenth
. · • ★ • · .
Hating the Bats? That's Alvin's job. Timothy knows it's irrational
Jason dug himself out of his grave and was trained in the very same cult as Damian. Batman picked his murderer over Jason
They're traumatized in ways he can't even summarize. The family's they should trust have done horrible jobs at helping the heal, going as far as to exacerbate their issues
It's not just wrong, but inhumane to wish they were Perfect Victims
Alvin is only half right whenever he demands—yuck! have some manners—apologies
. · • ★ • · .
Awful as it sounds, BruceQuest couldn't have come at a more perfect time, a hero on his high horse, insisting against his betters on running away to prove them wrong, a rebellious stint below his age
So what if he died with the League of Assassins after proving Bruce alive and bringing him back?
Everything is right with the Bats again
. · • ★ • · .
Tim hates the Bats more than anything
He knows it's irrational. Declaring in his heart that he hates is for older adults. He can't help it
When Batman disappeared and his family was scrambling to pick up the pieces, he set eyes upon Bruce's side
Who would take up the CEO mantle? Who could be trusted with the family name that swayed Gotham's civilians and Dark Knights?
In the end, with Alvin declared a madman, they could only rely on Timothy Drake, set to inherit Drake Industries following his parent's death and Uncle's adoption of him
Not that the family would ever know it. Not that they needed to know it
It became easier wrangling being a vigilante and CEO, as well as two identities when one of them was dead
Not that he stopped being a vigilante. They're just never gonna show up on the field
But try as he might, he couldn't put the Batfamily quite back together as Alvin wanted
Bruce won't let him step down from being a CEO
. · • ★ • · .
Brucie insisted on a dinner between family and CEO
It makes sense. None as well. Nothing is suspicious of Tim Drake minus his youth
"You have another brother? Where is he?" He hadn't heard of another adoption yet
"He died asshole." Draper? Why would they still speak of him like one of their own?
But then again, he died
He wasn't Jason Todd dead, but rather a "Don't Speak Ill of the Dead" dead
. · • ★ • · .
It's kind of funny how Brucie—no, Batman—seemed to not tell the family how Tim requested to resign multiple times.
But the family was traumatized by his own hand. They needed something to stand against, to become a cohesive family unit. Bonds forged from pressure are a powerful, powerful thing
He can testify I'm so sorry Kon and Bart and Cassie and—
. · • ★ • · .
If Tim were a civilian through and through, he'd say it's fucked how Batman still employs manipulation to make sure family progress stays up
Then again, he has to find some kind of way
It's Batman
. · • ★ • · .
Tim miscalculated
Tim miscalculated sooo, so fucking much
. · • ★ • · .
Nothing but good things to say about the departed Alvin in interviews
A shrine—a shrine!!—in memory of Alvin
Talks and discussing he gathers on his computers regarding the family includes talks about how horribly they mistreated Alvin comparing him to Damian and Jason?!
Alvin had a working and antagonistic relationship with the heros. Timothy Drake was purely professional. Tim Drake's relationships are exclusively parasocial and delusional
And he's trapped the Bats in parasocial relationships with a boy not even real
. · • ★ • · .
Tim wants to be sick
He calls in sick
'Suck it Batman'
. · • ★ • · .
Only after dying is Alvin getting the love Timothy Drake is above wanting for
It doesn't make any sense
. · • ★ • · .
Tim Drake wants to step down from Wayne Enterprises all together, to cut all contact—being a CEO has been such a strain, with Bruce refusing my nephew's several requests to step down—and have his Fake Uncle move them away from Gotham for both of their own mental health
Somewhere he won't fear the Bat's finding him
Bruce refusing his requests are the perfect excuses to go as far as to cut contact with the world—
Tim Drake knows his heart belongs to Gotham
. · • ★ • · .
Tim Drake hates the Waynes and Batfamily to the ends of the earth
There are exceptions. Steph and Barbara, Cass and Duke, and—
. · • ★ • · .
Jack and Janet love archeology too much
Tim, his own family
Dead or Alive
Thus is the way of Drake
Have I ever read "A Thirteen Year Old's Fake ID"? Perhaps.
In all jest, I am so so glad you liked it. To see something inspired off something I wrote is so heartwarming.
Ngl, I like that your version bashes on Bruce a bit more than mine did.
I like to think that Tim, in these AUs, would be pissed about a shrine to Alvin. Part of him would be so angry that they built a shrine to a person they didn't even know. They didn't know Alvin was just a fake identity. They didn't care enough to find out. Yet, they want to make a physical demonstration of their guilt and call it a mourner's monument?
Two more points I like about your AU are the ways Tim separates himself from "Alvin" and how he built Alvin's personality specifically to be a slightly disliked coworker. It's distressing and disheartening (in the best ways) to think of a younger Tim desperately trying not to hate the Bats for what they did to Alvin. It wasn't him, it wasn't Tim, so it shouldn't matter, right? He can still love them?
An older Tim knows better.
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Text
Met His Match. || Soap MacTavish (Collab)
A collab with @crashtestbunny.
Find us on AO3!
Words: 3.5K~ Pairing: Sex Fiend!Reader x One Night Stand!Soap CW: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, smut smut smut, dubcon elements, unprotected piv, oral sex (f!receiving), public handjob (m!receiving), overstimulation, bathroom sex, sadism, dom/sub, rough sex, sub John "Soap" MacTavish, forced ejaculation, semi-public sex, whining, light exhibitionism, power play, dry orgasm. other tags: you/your pronouns, afab!reader, dating app, hook-up, one night stand, mean reader, exhaustion, walk of shame summary: Johnny gets fucked. a/n: Inspired loosely by my "It's a Match!" fic... but so much fucking worse. P.S. Not beta-read, we die like soap.
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Friday night. 6 PM.
You just got home from work and after making yourself a quick meal, you threw yourself on the couch.
Reaching for your phone you click on the Tinder icon on your home screen and immediately begin swiping away at the men that come across your screen.
You're not being too picky. Still a bit picky, but not too much. It doesn't matter that much what they look like... so much as what you feel once you see their picture.
You're not on this app for the romance, after all. No.
You're tired and frustrated from your week and all you want is to fuck a man. In fact, you want to fuck a man so hard he leaves your flat in the morning looking (and feeling) like a cheap whore.
You'll know what kind of man you're in the mood for when you see him.
Left.
Left.
Right.
Left.
Right.
Left.
That's when a man with the biggest blue eyes you've ever seen comes across your screen. You stop the mindless swiping immediately and just stare at him.
You can already imagine the way those blue eyes would look up at you from between your thighs, and how much better his face will look when they're glassy and he's covered in sweat and drooling down his chin...
Oh yeah, he's what you're looking for alright.
So, you scroll down to read what his bio has to say.
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If that bio is anything to go off of, he's also looking for something casual. After all, he mentions fingering and being ridden in the same paragraph. Perfect.
You Swipe Right on him and your phone immediately buzzes, announcing that you matched. Sweet.
Johnny texts you first. How... cute.
Johnny: hi beautiful x Johnny: how are you doing?
Oh, sweet summer child... what does he think this is? Small talk that'll lead onto a date?
You: doing good. You: how's your night looking?
It takes a minute before his reply comes.
Johnny: very free Johnny: wanna hook up?
There we go, Johnny-boy. That's the spirit.
You: would love that You: do you know that one bar around the corner from the post office? Johnny: of course You: meet there in an hour? Johnny: i'll be there Johnny: i'll be wearing blue
You can't help but chuckle... he won't be wearing much of anything soon enough.
-
Finding him at the bar is extremely easy because the bar is not packed, albeit still pretty busy. But that's not why you picked it. You picked it because it's only a short car ride from your flat.
Johnny is leaning on the bar, as promised, wearing a dark blue t-shirt, dark wash jeans, and a pair of simple black boots.
You approach him from behind, wearing a simple black dress. Not one of those flashy, slinky club types, just a regular dress. You know what you came here to get.
"Hey." You greet him casually and he turns to look at you, his hand wrapped around a lowball glass with some drink inside. It's clear... so either tequilla or vodka.
When he turns you realize three things immediately: 1) He lied about his height. He's definitely not 6ft tall, but 5ft10 at the most; 2) He's built like a brick shithouse, impossibly wide shoulders with large, beefy arms... So he wasn't lying about his 'Athletic' build; and 3) He has a fucking mohawk.
You can already imagine the way he'd look, your legs over his shoulders, as you squeezed his head between your thighs while his tongue lapped at your folds... Fuck, you're horny.
"...nice. What are you drinking? I'll buy." You catch the end of what he said, the beginning probably a greeeting, and a compliment, and, now an offer of a drink.
You try to shrug casually and seem unbothered. You decide to humour him. If he wants to play the gentleman part and pretend this is a date, you can play along.
"Whiskey. Neat." You murmur in reply as you slot yourself next to him against the bar, your thigh brushing against his as he orders and pays for your drink.
"So, a soldier, huh? What's that like?" You muse as you take a sip of your drink, watching him take a sip of his, his throat bobbing as he swallows. Oh, how you'd love to wrap a hand around...
"I like it. Always ken I wanted to be one. Tried to sign early and everythin'. I like keepin' active and I'm good at what I do..."
He continued talking, but you tuned him out, eyes locked on his mouth, watching how his lips pushed and pulled for each word, his white teeth in a neat row behind and his wet tongue sometimes peeking out.
He talked a lot. He talked... too much.
"Let me cut you off right there." You interrupted him, causing him to shut his mouth and stare at you. "Care to have this conversation between my legs, gorgeous?"
Johnny stares at you with impossibly wide eyes, like what you just said is the most bizarre thing he's ever heard. His left brow, right below an obvious scar, twitches, a sign he's interested. "...When?" He asks in a murmur.
"Right now." You reply with a head tilt.
The blue-eyed Scot simply nods eagerly and knocks back the contents of his drink into his mouth.
-
"That's it... That's fucking it-" You croon as you buck your hips into his mouth, your back pressed against the wall, the hem of your dress curled up and tucked into the elastic band of your bra.
Johnny's on his knees on the floor of the cubicle, his tongue lapping at your slick cunt like he's a prisoner on death row and that's his last meal request and he insists on enjoying it.
One of his hands grips your right thigh, squeezing it and keeping it steady, the other alternating between rubbing your clit and going around the back of your hip to squeeze one of your arse cheeks, pulling you deeper into his mouth whenever he licks and sucks your clit.
His blue eyes are locked on yours and they look just as good as you had imagined they would as his moist tongue curls to gather some of your slick and swallow it down, to taste as much of it as he can.
He's such a fucking munch, his tongue parting your folds and diving as deep into your hole as he can get it, before sliding back up to meet your clit, giving it a greedy suck.
There's a smug smirk on his lips, even as they're buried in your cunny, and a chuckle falls from them too while he thrashes his head side to side like a dog playing tug-of-war, nearly blowing raspberries on your clit and causing you to squirm against him, more expletives falling from your mouth.
You know what he's thinking. He thinks he's in charge. He thinks he's doing a good job fucking you. Oh, how wrong he is. And you're about to show him that.
"Wipe that fucking smirk off your face, sweetheart." You demand as you push his hands off your body and grab onto his stupid fucking mohawk with both hands like a handle to grind yourself against his face.
His eyes widen, but the sight of you using his mouth, his tongue, to get yourself off, hips bucking and dragging across his chin and tongue, lips and nose is enough to get him riled up.
He can't help himself, his hands finding a spot on the floor and his own legs spreading apart, allowing him to half-grind his clothed cock against the tile.
His head bobs eagerly against you, his nose buried in your mons, the flat of his tongue rubbing over your clit, his beard prickling against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, crotch and folds.
Your legs are trembling on either side of his head, but you don't stop riding yourself against his tongue, your head falling back against the tiled wall behind you, the pitch of your voice getting higher and higher.
The way the flat of his tongue presses to your clit causes your whole body to shake, your skin warming up more and more to the touch. The coil in your stomach is getting tighter by the second and your breath, as well as your moans, are ragged and long.
Your hips buck and thrash and your head hangs low suddenly as your climax crashes onto you, leaving you breathing fast and deep, your eyes fluttering a bit as you look down to find Johnny kneeling between your thighs, his tongue still softly sliding upward, spreading your folds open and swallowing your come deep into his mouth.
"That's it, drink up, I'm not giving you water anytime soon, sweetheart." You tell him, noticing how his eyes have gone glassy, a wet spot having formed in his dark jeans.
Filthy mutt got off on having you fuck yourself on his tongue...
-
Having pulled Johnny off you and fixed your dress back into place, you called an Uber and then dragged the bulky man out of the bar by the hand, marching ahead of him toward the pavement, under a street lamp, to wait for your ride.
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you guided your mouth up Johnny's chin toward his mouth, locking lips with him, your tongue seeking his out.
His beard and mouth are both still soaked with your come, he smells of it, and tastes of it too, and with each push and pull of your tongues as you seek each other out, you get more of a taste of yourself.
You only broke the kiss once the Uber arrived, your phone having pinged with a warning, and a car having pulled to the side of the road not far from the two of you.
You and Johnny piled in together and while he scooted all the way across the backseat toward the other door, you slid up next to him as you two greeted the driver.
You didn't bother with a seatbelt (neither did Johnny) and since the driver didn't seem too keen on chit-chat, you allowed yourself to drape a leg across Johnny's lap, while his arm wrapped around your waist.
Your fingers slid over his thigh toward the darkened patch of denim on his crotch, and, with your leg (and the music playing from the speakers) as cover, you slowly undid the fly and button.
"What are ye-" Johnny murmured as he glanced at you with raised brows and wide eyes, like an innocent little puppy.
"Sh-shh..." You hissed as you kissed his cheek, playing the part of a loving girlfriend, or an overly affectionate date, for your driver's sake, you slowly slid your fingers through the open zipper, fishing for his cock amidst the wet fabric of his boxer briefs.
The pretty boy was already at half-mast again, even after having already come once, and your hand quickly wrapped around it as you began stroking it.
Johnny thighs trembled and his legs kicked out a bit as he felt your warm hand wrap around his sensitive member, and he looked away, out of the window, eyelids fluttering, eyebrows scrunched, and a hard bite on his bottom lip.
His cock began steadily throbbing in your hand, hardening and growing more with each languid stroke of your hand around him. He's thick. Much thicker than you expected him to be. You can feel your fingers struggling to fully wrap around him.
Sliding your palm up, you slowly rub over the hooded tip, which draws a squeak from the back of his throat, his chest heaving, and his stomach being sucked in.
"Control yourself..." You whispered in his ear which, making sure to shoot a glance forward at the Uber driver, who seemed focus on the road.
In response, you received yet another soft groan and a hiss through clenched teeth, Johnny's head lulling toward you, his forehead leaning against your temple. "Feels... fuck... I can't... you're... ah-"
"Feels good?" You murmur in his ear as you kiss his bearded jaw lightly, feeling him buck a bit against your hand, causing your thigh to bounce on his lap.
"Hm... Mhm..." Johnny grunted. "Fuck... Steamin' Jesus..." He whined brokenly as your hand kept stroking his length fully, up and down, at a slow, languid pace.
You'd draw back the foreskin, exposing the bulbous head, before drawing it up again as your hand climbed up to rub against the tip for a moment, only to roll back down once more.
Whenever the car would drive past a street lamp, the yellow-toned light would flutter briefly over Johnny's exposed cock, and draw your attention right to his pink, bulbous tip, overstimulated and angry, leaking shiny beads of pre-cum.
"Sh-Shh..." You cooed at him again, enjoying the broken sounds of pleasure he'd let out through clenched teeth, the way his cock would throb and twitch in your hand, and how the muscular man next to you vibrated with tension.
Oh, how you loved to make men break under your hand, and, even more so, how much you loved to make men like him break. A soldier, a strong man, used to dominating... How silly of him to think he had any power here...
It takes little time for Johnny to suddenly twitch and thrash next to you, his breath picking up and becoming ragged and wet, like he's struggling to control himself into being quiet...
You look up at him just in time, finding the way his head falls back on the headrest of his seat, while he grunted under his breath and hissed through his teeth, again, and again, his eyes fluttering shut as he experienced a dry orgasm, only the tiniest beads of cum slipping down to your fingers right below the head.
Just in time too, because the Uber pulled over less than a minute later, the Uber driver looking back at you and Johnny. "We're here, Miss." He told you politely.
"Thank you, Jared. I'll be sure to leave you a 5-star rating and a good tip." You replied to the driver as you slipped your leg off Johnny's lap and scooted closer to the other door.
After opening the door, you turned again and grabbed Johnny by his shirt collar, your fingers hooking themselves onto the inside of it and grazing his dog tags hanging around his neck.
Smirking, you slip them from the confines of the shirt and then twirl the ball chain around your forefinger like a lead, pulling it taut, which causes Johnny to audibly whine.
"C'mon, Johnny." You ordered as you tugged him forward, causing him to scoot forward, ducking his head to follow you out of the car, his movements languid and slow, his head still cloudy from the recent orgasm.
-
"Fuck, yes! Fuck!" You whine, your head falling back, your hair sticking to your forehead and your nape.
"Steamin' fuckin' Jesus... Fuck..." Johnny groans, his own head rolling back on the mattress of your bed.
"Yes... Yes..." You grunt as you fix your grip on the bottom of his thighs, right before his knees, bouncing your ass off his lap.
Johnny's mouth is hanging open, his hands fisting the bed sheets as he lies on a puddle of his own sweat, every inch of his exposed, hairy torso glistening under the light of your bedside lamp.
You're both exhausted, your hands slippery on his sweaty thighs, your own sometimes shaking as you bounce on him again, and again.
Your pace is starting to become uncoordinated and sloppy because your legs are tired, your knees struggling to keep up and causing you to stutter atop him, driving his cock harder into you and deep against your cervix twice in a row.
It drives a desperate moan out of you both and you go still for a moment, feeling the sweat trickle down your brow.
"Fuck... C'mon..." Johnny whines and grabs you by the hip, attempting to rock his hips up against the cleft of your ass, helping pound into you...
Only for you to bounce up with him and then throw all your weight down onto him, causing his ass to be pinned back down onto the bed, and drawing a loud yowl of surprise as his cock barrels right against your cervix, sending a sting of pain up your spine.
Johnny looks up at you with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, seemingly horrified and confused.
Finding his eyes, you lean forward, pressing your hands onto his chest, before murmuring "Stay fucking still. This isn't about you."
"Sorry?" Johnny murmurs, whether in confusion or genuinely apology, you don't know.
"You're nothing more than a toy right now. And good toys don't talk." You warn him.
"I-" He stuttered, not fast enough to protest before you were moving atop him again, the new angle and slight pause having provided you with an extra burst of energy.
You rocked against him, keeping him buried down to the hilt and rubbing your sensitive clit against the bush at the base of his cock.
It makes you croon in delight, keeping up the same angle but becoming more and more frantic, rubbing yourself against his bush while keeping his shaft sheathed nice and deep in your weeping cunny.
Something about the warm wetness enveloping his already oversensitive cock, the sight of your face contorting in pleasure atop him, so close and yet so far, your hands pushing against his chest so he doesn't try to reach for you.
It drives him over the edge and he finds himself losing it, his big blue eyes fluttering and rolling, his jaw dropping and his every muscle straining as his head falls back, causing him to stiffen beneath you.
Out of breath, you lean your head against his chest, feeling the warmth of your release coming in the aftermath of his own, his cock twitching and throbbing inside you being the final nail in the coffin.
Johnny doesn't dare move as he feels your warm cunt squeeze around him, draining every last drop from his already reduced third orgasm, simply lying there, beneath you.
His mouth is hanging open, drier than the Sahara, every inch of him is slick with sweat and he's out of breath and his entire body is trembling ever so slightly as he closes his eyes in pure bliss.
Only for his eyes to shoot open again as he feels you start up again, your ass carefully bouncing off his sore thighs.
-
Johnny stumbles his way into the training room. It's 6 a.m. and he has not caught a fucking wink of sleep.
Unlike his normal hook-ups, after which he reports to base with a pep in his step and a smirk on his lips that no amount of push-ups, sit-ups and mile runs can wipe off...
This time, he's limping, every muscle of his feeling sore and stiff, his thighs feel like they're going to bruise up, his cock burns from how oversensitive it is...
He hasn't slept, hasn't eaten, hasn't drunk water... and the closest thing to a shower he got was when you tossed him some wet wipes in the morning.
Unlike him, you had gotten up in the morning (aka after a 1.5 hour power nap) perfectly energized and like you hadn't spent half of the night riding him like a stallion you were trying to break...
Gaz is the first to notice Johnny's state as the Scot falls into formation with the rest of the unit, his eyes still sort of glassy. But he doesn't say anything... he simply raises a brow and smirks in amusement.
Ghost is standing by Price on the sidelines and notices next and, unlike Gaz, he chuckles at it and calls Price's attention to it. The Captain turns to look at Soap and has to contain the look of amused disappointment from showing on his face.
"Soap!" The Captain calls out, causing Soap to look over, nearly languidly and then approach, with Gaz following behind him, despite not having been called. He just... wanted in on the fun.
"The fuck happened to you, son? Did you get in a fight?" Price asks with a cocked brow, watching how the younger sergeant squirms and his tanned face grows warmer.
"N-No sir." Johnny replies and shakes his head, which causes him to wince, feeling light-headed.
"I think 'assaulted' would be a better word for it, Cap'n." Gaz chides, causing the Scot to huff and turn his head in frustration and embarrassment.
"Shut it, Garrick..." Soap murmurs, which earns a light chuckle from all the men, Ghost included.
"Go shower and take a nap. You're excused for this morning." Price tells the sergeant, causing the lad to nod thankfully and wander off, limping once more.
As he gets back to his barracks, he grabs his phone, typing out a quick message for you, thankful you insisted on giving him your number and taking his... Johnny secretly hoped that meant you wanted a repeat.
"Hope you're happy... Made me embarrass myself in the state I showed up to training in."
The reply he earned, however, was the most cold-hearted one he could've received... One he never even saw coming.
"I'm sorry, who is this?"
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Read Bunny's Work HERE
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reysdriver · 22 hours
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Sunday Roast | R.L.
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Remus fixes a plate for you at dinner and it makes your heart melt — remus x gn!reader fluff
warnings: none :)
words: 0.5k
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No one could ever go wrong with a nice Sunday roast as long as it was made with care, especially not the house elves working in the Hogwarts kitchen. 
When you walked in with your friends and saw all the food, it looked even better than usual. Now that you were sat down with your best friend Lily on one side and your boyfriend Remus on the other, you were excited to see if the food’s taste lived up to the appearance. 
 Just as you were about to grab some food for yourself, Remus took your plate and placed a juicy piece of chicken upon it. 
You looked over at Lily, who also noticed what just happened, and you both tried to stifle laughs before turning back over to Remus. 
“Um, handsome, I think you stole my plate there.” You informed him, even though you really didn’t care since you could just take his empty plate too. 
“I know.” He responded. “How many sausages do you want?”
You weren’t expecting that reply at all. That doesn’t mean it was unwelcome, but you weren’t really sure how to answer him now. 
“You don’t have to get my food for me, Rem.” You really didn’t want to come off as ungrateful, so you placed a hand on his side and tried your best to say it nicely. 
“I know I don’t, but I want to. You’ve got on a nice top and I know you’d be sad if you leaned across the table and stained it. So, how many sausages?”
If it wasn’t a medical impossibility, you were sure that your heart would have doubled in size at that moment. And if Remus wasn’t already your boyfriend, you would have confessed you loved him right there in front of everyone. 
Remus was the sweetest person you’ve ever met, and this was perfect proof of that. You wished you could say he was just extra thoughtful tonight, but he was always so perfect that it would be hard to pick out one peak moment. 
“Um, two please.” 
It was hard to hide how flustered you felt, but you hoped no one noticed.
“And gravy? On the side, of course.”
“Of course, thank you.”
Finally remembering that you two weren’t the only ones in the whole Great Hall, you turned back to Lily to see if she was watching what was happening. 
It turns out that Lily was observing the scene with an ear-to-ear grin strung across her face. That’s when you knew you weren’t imagining it, and that Remus really was the kindest person you knew. 
“What about veggies, dove?”
“Yes, please.”
You watched as he scooped out roasted veggies from the bowl, carefully trying to avoid the ones you didn’t like so much. 
After your plate was full, he placed it exactly where he picked it up from, and kissed the top of your head as he also filled your glass with water. 
“Thank you, Remmy. Love you.”
He told you that he loved you back as he started to assemble his own plate. 
As you picked up your fork and went to have your first bite of dinner, Lily leaned over to you and whispered the words ‘marry him’ into your ear. 
You chuckled, picking up a piece of cauliflower. “I will, don’t you worry.” You promised her.
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thecapricunt1616 · 11 hours
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Vervain - c.b. one-shot
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♡ O/S Inspo: Vervain - Use in Protection, purification, youth, peace, healing, sleep and baths. For all-purpose protection of homes and people (especially children).
♡ Summary: You & Carmy had your first baby 8 weeks ago... seeing him being so attentive and such a good father is for some reason inducing a baby fever - again.
♡ W/C: 4.6K+
♡ Posted Date: 05/09/2024
♡ A/N: OOOO hey yallllll! Capri is back - She was written by the writing bug this morning!!! I have other requests i'm still working on but for now - I am swallowing my stage fright, I hope this suffices for what you were wanting future Mrs.Berzatto eek!!! Thank you so much for requesting from me! You can see the request this one-shot is based on right ♡ here ♡ if you aren't following @carmenberzattosgf already I'm quite unsure how you found ME before you found HER go give her a freaking follow!!!I am seriously such a fangirl for her work and was over the moon when she requested me!
♡ Warnings for BTC: Pregnancy stuff, breeding kinks, talking about parenting stuff, Dad!Carmy, unedited (we die like men), NO USE OF Y/N!, AFAB/Feminine reader w/ long hair implied
➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡
➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡
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It had been exactly 8 weeks today from when you’d given birth to your baby girl, Athena. Of course, you weren’t thinking about this yet - because you were peacefully sleeping away in bed, at 8:45 am. Each day you woke though, you were surprised your life wasn’t a dream. 
Being married to your ultimate dream man, with the most beautiful little baby and not a rush in the world. Carmy had known when you got pregnant he’d be taking some time off after you gave birth to care for you, especially since you’d been trying for a baby so he was more prepared to have everything set up. He made your life almost impossibly easy. 
Impossibly meaning it was nearly…isolating how simple your problems were compared to other moms. Since Carmy was like - the fucking golden standard of dad. You weren’t sure where he learned all this shit- especially since his father was never around and you knew for a fact didn’t treat his mother like this. You honestly felt bad complaining about anything to other moms - because in comparison when you did they were needing to do way more then you, and alone - because their husbands simply didn't care, or weren't interested in learning.
He had completely taken over the nighttime feedings, every 2 hours an alarm buzzing him awake on his watch. He would go ease little Athena awake, come back to the bedroom, gently wake you, set a boppy in your lap, help you undo your maternity bra and get her latched, and rub your back through the cramping that breastfeeding brought, whispering sweet encouragements and kissing your temple. 
After she was done eating, he would help you get situated again, bottle up the letdown milk and put it in the mini fridge he’d gotten for your bedroom for this specific purpose before bringing your daughter back to her nursery and burping her, before changing her and putting her back down - just do do it all again an hour and 15 minutes later. 
He took over the cleaning completely - your house was spotless nearly at all times, and of course you were very well fed. He would combat the exhaustion fatherhood brought by passing out next to you in bed after he brought you breakfast on a cute little tray and Athena had her morning feeding before being put down for a nap, baby monitor on his chest so he could jump up the second she fussed. 
“G’morning mama” was what woke you this morning, that and gentle kisses on your forehead. You heard quiet little coos and immediately your eyes were open on instinct, to see little Athena nuzzled up in Carmys arm like a little football and a tray of amazing smelling breakfast in your face. 
“I want my baby” you open your arms and he gently placed her on your chest to which she grunts happily and squirms her little legs, doing everything she can to lift up her head to see you. 
“She’s such a good girl mama she helped me make breakfast f’you this mornin’ she’s the best little sous ever” he cooed, looking at her beaming with happiness as he rubs her little back. 
This was what got you. You weren’t sure if it was the hormones, if it was the fact your husband looked like a fucking Greek god incarnate, or if it was just - you don’t know…human fucking nature?! Literally? But the insane level of need that you had for him - you wanted another one. 
Athena wasn’t even rolling on her side yet and you were already craving being pregnant. Well- Carmy did love your body while you were pregnant. You loved your body while pregnant, you felt sexier and more feminine and pretty and overall like a goddess. Mostly thanks to Carmy and his constant praises, and the way you two were fucking like rabbits during your pregnancy and you missed that. 
“What’s f’breakfast daddy?” You pucker your lips to which he obliges and gives you a sweet peck 
“So this mornin, Miss Athena she decided on an omelette so we have a French omelette with dill-“ he explained and you inturrupt with a giggle 
“Did you? You came up with that all on your own Athena? Such a smart girl!” You joked, kissing the top of her soft head to which she just huffed a breath to your skin and made little baby grunting noises as she wiggled her legs 
“She did! Then we also have a light cucumber salad f’you with fresh herbs ‘f’course, sourdough toast, and a banana smoothie. All made with love” he kissed the top of your head. 
Each morning after her first feeding, he would take Athena into the kitchen with him, baby wear her because he is just that perfect, and explain every little detail to her softly while he would cook breakfast, giving her head gentle kisses along the way and rubbing her back soothingly. He did the same while cooking lunch, and dinner. The first time you saw this you burst into tears at the sweetness and the beauty of creating your own family.
“Wow sweetheart thank you! This looks sooo yummy” you kissed the now drowsy baby’s nose and she smiled softly, causing you to smile and Carmy to gasp happily. 
“Look at that little smile ‘eh? Such a pretty girl” he rubbed her back gently and you carefully picked her up and put her on his chest so you could eat, to which he happily laid back, palm flat over her little back patting her soothingly. 
“Can’t wait to try this bear looks so yummy” you pull the tray in your lap and cut off a bite, trying it and nodding “course a ten.” You look at him and he huffs a laugh as to not wake the baby who was clearly ready for another nap
“Y’always say ten” he said softly and pressed his lips to Athena’s head gently, breathing in her baby smell. “Do you know what day it is?” He mumbles and looks over at you. 
“I’ve been waiting for this day for….eight weeks” you smirk and he shook his head amusedly with a smile. 
“Babe- you’ve been” he covers her tiny ears “you’ve been sucking me dry I didn’t even have a break. This is gettin’ exhausting” he joked and you laugh quietly as to not disturb the baby. 
“Not my fault you’re like- don’t get me started I need to eat and shower and shave and - today is a big day.” You said and sipped your smoothie, humming happily “this is really good seriously bear” you told him and he rubbed your hand gently before pressing it to his lips 
“Alright well that means I better get a move on then and there’s laundry t’do so I better go put ‘er down, you eat. Watch y’show ’er whatever and you can do your shower mm?” He asked and you nodded happily. 
Of course he’d oblige your every wish. He had always been this way, but became even more lenient after you’d gotten pregnant. You made sure many times through tearful guilt that he wasn’t making himself resent you, and he assured you that everything he does he wants to do and only does because of the fact that he wants to, he also assured you he could never resent you or even dislike you, or anything less then be fully in love with you. 
You had a luxurious shower, slathered on your favorite lotion and were even able to blow out your hair, putting on your favorite pair of lacy panties. You were upset you had to settle for a nursing bra, but knew Carmy wasn’t going to mind. You put on one of your comfortable slips, even put in some earrings after doing your skincare. By the time you were done Carmy was just getting Athena up from her nap and changing her diaper before bringing her in 
“Say hi mama” he takes her little hand waving it at you “did you have a nice shower?” He pecked your lips sweetly and helped you get settled with her on the bed so she could eat. 
“Very nice - thank you for taking care of everything sweetheart” you sit back, sighing softly and resting your head back “I love you” you look over at him with a sweet smile. 
“I love you beautiful, how y’feelin any cramps?” He asked and held your hand, lacing your fingers together sweetly and kissing your fingers. 
“No- well…not as bad anymore If anything when she’s not as hungry my boobs start to hurt” you explained and he nods 
“Well y’look beautiful baby, I love these on you” he gently touches your earring bringing a smile to your lips, he always notices the smallest things about you. Like he has you memorized. 
“Thank you Bear” you said softly as the baby makes little gulping suckling noises. Carmy chuckled, rubbing her belly lightly. 
“That’s the good stuff huh little? Mama’s got the golden tap” he jokes and you laughed, holding her securely 
“Stop! Stop making me laugh she’s comfy latched like this you’ll piss her off” you nudge him with your foot gently 
“It’s true! You were the one that forced me to try it. It’s sweet, I see why she likes it.” He said and you scrunch your nose, biting back giggles 
“Yes because it encourages her to eat it.” You gently brush that spot over her nose bridge and forehead, causing her eyes to flutter shut “that’s why when she’s 6 months we can’t let her have fruit for a while cause she’ll think everything’s sweet like my milk” you explained 
“Mmm…read that too in one of the books you got- it’s a good call” he thumbs over her fingers gently that were wrapped around his forefinger tightly like a baby monkey. 
“You should sleep” you told him softly. “You can have snuggles with her I’ll watch you” 
He smiled and leaned in, kissing you lovingly “thank you sweets. I can burp her s’okay. I already got the towel” he said and grabbed it from his nightstand. 
She only took a few more minutes before she slowly stopped suckling and instead went to fall right asleep but before she could you took her off and handed her over to Carmy for burping to which she fussed before she realized her dad was taking her then she relaxed again. 
After Carmy fell asleep, you went to put her down for a nap as well and put away the laundry Carmy had washed. It was about 3 hours before Athena began to fuss again and you went to get her, sitting in her rocking chair after you’d changed her and reading her a book as she ate. 
Carmy came in just as you were finishing up The Very Hungry Caterpillar “that’s a good one huh princess?” He said softly, gently caressing her cheek with his knuckle to which she fluttered her eyes open and smiled slightly before closing them again. 
“Mmhmm, that one always puts her to sleep, she stopped eating 3 pages ago but I like to let her have a little time” you said and gently pulled her off to which of course she fussed. Carmy took her, hushing her sweetly and putting her on his shoulder. 
“Y’mommy spoils you little girl” he told her, gently bouncing her as he burped her, putting a cloth on his shoulder and kissing her head. You smile slightly as you fixed your bra and nightgown 
“I’d say we both spoil her. The doctor says she’s the happiest baby she’s met” you fixed her little sock that she’d managed to wriggle down to her toes before kissing her foot 
“And the smartest and the prettiest and the most perfect “ he told her sweetly patting her back as she let out a big burp “good girl” he said and you giggled 
“That was a good one” you told her and kiss her head gently, seeing him like this with her, especially mixed with a sleep thick voice, no shirt, and messy curls - not to mention the stubble from not bothering to shave as often. He looked…delicious 
“Mmm- such a sexy daddy too” you mused, kissing his neck gently and rubbing your palm over his abs that had gone a bit softer due to spending way less time in the gym, but you loved it. 
“Yeah? Even with throw up on my shoulder mm?” He joked, and usually that would be gross - but fuck. The way he stepped up as a father constantly - everything he did was with the two of you in mind and you never even had to ask. He’d quit smoking for god sakes without you saying a word once he’d found out you were pregnant. 
“Especially. You’re so fucking amazing Carmy. Let me go to the bedroom so you can put her down but we need to talk” you told him and kissed his lips lovingly before heading back to the bedroom so he could work his magic getting her to sleep. 
It only took him 20 minutes before she was out and he came to the bedroom, carefully shutting the door behind him. “Needa talk mm? Got a feelin’ we won’t be doin much talkin’ “ he teased, throwing her spit up towel in the hamper easily and coming to lay down with you. As soon as his head hit the pillow you were straddling his lap, your hands on either of his shoulders like a hungry lioness in heat. 
“I want you to fuck another baby in me.” You said and kissed him deeply, grinding against him and running your hands over his chest and abdomen, tugging at the tie of his sweatpants. He moaned in surprise and grabbed your bum, squeezing and spanking you lightly before pulling away after a few more moments of you essentially eating eachother alive to breathe. 
“Holy fucking shit” he said, chest rising and falling quickly “what got into you- im not complaining but-“
“Get me pregnant. I love it- I love it Carmy. God I feel so fucking hot. And seeing you with our daughter being all attentive and good to her? Holy fuck baby. Mm when people look at me - when they look at us I love it. I love knowing that people know you knocked me up.” You said, kissing his neck and sucking a hickey into the stubbly skin there. He moaned softly, palming your ass and squeezing your upper thighs 
“No baby not yet - not yet mm? Y’need time to heal…we can pretend mm?” He counters and gently brushed your hair back. You whine and pout, pulling back and looking at him 
“No. I want it now get me pregnant now.” You beg and hold his hands “pleeease I’m all healed remember? It’s 8 weeks.” You said and kissed over his tattoos, hoping you were distracting enough to get him to agree.  
“Mm yup you can have me inside you again, but doctor said having another baby so fast would cause them to have low birth weight. We don’t want that for our babe no? Also y’breastfeeding babe. The chances of you getting pregnant are super low” he said and you huff, sitting up frustratedly 
“You really know how to turn a girl off, you know that right? Can’t you pretend to satisfy your wife? Don’t you think I know?! Do you think I’m stupid?” You snip and he raised his brows 
“Y’gettin sassy w’me?” He questioned lowly and squeezed your hips “fix the attitude” he ordered and you bit back a smile. 
“No.” You crossed your arms “I don’t have one” you snip “you’re being mean t’me. Y’being mean to your wife” you teased, shoving his shoulder into the pillow playfully. 
“Ohh” he chuckled a bit “did you just push me?” He mused, grabbing your wrist firmly but not enough to hurt, just enough to show you he was willing to play. 
“What would you do about it if I said yes?” You leaned in so close your noses were touching. 
“You’d be in trouble” he smirked, leaning in and tugging your bottom lip between his teeth and sucking and nibbling it gently the way drove you wild. You moaned softly, your eyes fluttering shut. The feeling went straight to your core, warmth flooding your abdomen and your clit twitching with excitement. 
“Please” you said softly, well as much as you could mumble with one lip the other still being assaulted by Carm who was very much enjoying the way you were squirming in his lap to get any kind of friction you could. 
He finally releases you “please what angel?” He spanks you lightly “what d’y’need mm?” He lifted your nightgown over your ass and squeezed the flesh, reaching under you and cupping your heat. He hummed at the feeling of dampness already soaking the lace, collecting as much as he could on his fingers. 
“I need you t’fill me up again. Fuckin breed me make me a mommy again mm?” You begged, grinding against his hand - not even caring about the whorish filthy moans falling from your lips. You’d been fantasizing about this for weeks now, the relief of his hand- his wonderful calloused, thick, muscular hand, felt like it was enough to send you into a full orgasm just from the pressure his fingers were giving. 
“Holy fuck y’soaked babe- my god” he groaned, pulling your panties to the side and gently rubbing circles into your swollen throbbing clit that was already twitching. Your hips buck and you bit down on your hand to hold in a cry as to not wake the baby. The next 3 or so minutes you couldn’t even remember what you said as he rubbed firm quick circles over your clit and after not having been touched for nearly 3 months - you were cumming on his hand mumbling his name, and profanities that would likely be considered sacrilegious while whimpering and squirming, thighs shivering - the whole 9. 
“Wow” he muttered, and if your orgasm wasn’t so intense you would probably have laughed at how amazed he sounded. “Y’good?” He rubs your stomach gently and you nod quickly, trying to even your breathing. 
“Fuck-“ you said once you came down “I literally blacked out for a second I think-“ you laughed and he followed suit, carefully laying you down after tucking 2 pillows under your hips to keep you elevated and tugging your panties off. 
“Shit babe y’get all soft on me?” He teased, carefully wrapping your thighs around his waist and pushing down his boxers and sweats just enough to let his cock free. You loved this. It all felt so normal, you were worried it would be awkward getting in bed again, but you two were picking up right where you left off. 
“I think you’re underestimating how sensitive hormones make you” you said as he kissed over your stomach and hips, licking a stripe up your heat causing you to gasp and grip the sheets tightly , your core clenching around nothing. Each touch felt like the power of a lightning strike, it was so much better than before. It had to be the hormones, but shit - now that you knew how good this felt you were worried you could never get enough of him. 
“I guess I was. Also y’super sweet now by the way - sweeter then before I should say” he spread you wider with his fingers to lap up more of your arousal and you look down at him, moaning at the sight. 
“God I fuckin missed you between my thighs - you’re so pretty” you smile, watching as he strokes himself as he continues to pleasure you first per usual. “Can you- try inside?” You asked gently and he looked up at you, resting his cheek on your thigh. 
“You’re ready for that?” He asked softly, his lips and chin glistening with slick. 
“Yeah- uh…try one? Maybe just one at first” you said sheepishly and he nodded, licking his lips 
“Course sweetheart, tell me if s’too much yeah?” He assured and rubbed over you gently before easing a finger over your entrance. 
The feeling was…well. 
It was similar to the uncomfort of your first time, which - if that was the case then it would just take a few times to feel good again. “How’s it feel?” He gently sucks your clit as he eases to the second knuckle, curling gently 
“Mm- okay? Not like it used to. But kinda like it used to…maybe it’ll feel better the more we do it” you assure and he nods a bit, flicking his tongue over your sensitive bud in the way that always got you to open up to him and you gasped lightly, back arching and core going lax. He slipped the final knuckle in and placed a kiss to your mound before slowly pumping as to not overstimulate you. 
“Yeah- mmm yeah” you breathe as it started to feel more familiar, the muscles loosening once again and relaxing. “Another- you can try another.” You told him and gently lace your fingers in his hair. He carefully eased in his forefinger, curling them against your g-spot and your thigh twitches, you nearly sobbed at the feeling that shot through your body at the contact. 
“Oh- okay found it-” he chuckled a bit “sorry did it hurt?” He asked and you shook your head quickly 
“Again” you said softly, trying to remain all of your control because you knew as soon as you lost it finding it would be nearly impossible and you two had a sleeping tiny human 1 room over. 
“Y’feel a lot tighter” he said, pumping his fingers slower, curling them against that fantastic spongey spot each time and you felt that coil in your belly tightening rapidly and it was going to snap now, any moment. “Y’like gushing right now” he chuckled, but it fell on deaf ears because your mind was fuzzy with pleasure. 
You couldn’t form a thought even if you tried, the mixture of his tongue sloppily drooling all over your clit as he padded over it, and the jolt of pleasure each curl of his fingers - it was a place long forgotten since your baby had been born since your priorities had both been changed and refocused for the time being. You weren’t able to warn him, you couldn’t do anything other then mutter his name as your orgasm washed over you so hard he had to hold your legs open so you didn’t crush him by mistake. 
“Fuck me- fuck me baby please Jesus- fuck me” you found yourself begging as you fluttered your eyes open and he was looking up at you in amazement like an owl, mouth slightly agape. 
“Holy shit” he muttered “you’ve never cum like that- what the fuck- I thought I almost killed you” he kissed your thigh and you laugh, a real laugh, chest rising and falling quickly as the aftershock of your orgasm reels back mixed with your giggles. 
“Please. Please” you cup his cheeks “cum inside me” you beg. He trailed kisses up your body, meeting your lips and pulling you into a hot, messy kiss. Mixed with clashing teeth and mixing of spit and sucking of tongues, before lining himself up and carefully pushing his tip in. You whimpered into his mouth and he pulled his lips away from yours, a small string of saliva connecting you both 
“Did I hurt you?” He asked worriedly and you shook your head
“Feels so good bear. Keep goin’ fuck I f’got how full I can feel” you pulled your lips back to his and felt him smile into your lips, holding your hand and lacing your fingers as his other hand worked on rubbing circles into your clit. He kept you quiet by making out with you as he thrusted in fully, staying still for a moment so you could adjust to the sensation once more. 
He grunts, feeling your walls flutter around him and you giggle in response, causing him to moan at the feeling of your walls squeezing around him “shit don’t do that I’ll fuckin cum”
“Then move dummy!” You push your heels into his ass and he chuckled, thrusting slowly in and out, nearly to the tip, before thrusting all the way back in to the hilt- his balls touching the curve of your ass 
“ are y’fuckin kickin me like a horse?” He teased as your back arched off the bed, a whiny moan tearing from your throat and he covers your mouth quickly, “here y’are beggin me t’fuck a second one int’you- y’haven’t even learned how t’be quiet for the first. The baby is sleeping.” He grumbled, and the way he was getting rough with you to protect your baby was enough to throw you into your third orgasm, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes from the overstimulation of your clit, whining and squirming beneath his grasp. 
“Y’gonna be quiet? Er do I have to keep you muzzled ‘mm?” He teased, removing his hand from your mouth 
“Promise- I promise- please please please Carmy - give me another one I promise I’ll be so quiet” you said softly, your voice pleading and begging. He moaned, thrusting a bit harder 
“Can y’take it? Mm? Are y’sure Y’can take me again princess? Last time I knocked you up it took quite a few months a’you face down, ass up, full a’my cum. Nights at a time. Y’don’t remember how you’d whine about how sore you’d get while you were ovulating? Mmm? Fuck you so full y’get sore- fuckin y’four er five times a’day?” he grabs your face, forcing you to look at him with mushed cheeks. 
You whine pathetically, mumbling little ‘yes’ ‘mmhmm’ and ‘please’  you manage to get out an “I miss that so much Carmy” you whimper as he cages you in with his arms, his chain dangling in your face and brushing against your chin as his thrusts get sloppier. 
“Yeah? You miss bein full a’my cum? Y’miss wakin’ up in the mornin’ drippin’ w’me honey?” He mutters into your neck, feeling droplets of your sweat mixing together as your bodies rubbed with his incredibly deep thrusts, nearly laying over you. But Carmy was the most comfortable blanket you could ever ask for. 
“So much- so so much baby. Y’know Athena would be such a good sister- she needs a little friend mm? Y’gonna give your girl what she wants?” You scratch down his back as he pounds right into your g-spot, “oh I’m gonna cum” you whined, back arching and chest pressing flush to his. 
“Fuck - fuck- yes. Yes baby. Fuck m’gonna fuck you full I promise- fuck I’ll give you whatever you want baby I fuckin love you I love you” he moans into your neck, whimpering softly as he shoots hot thick ropes of cum deep inside you, fucking you through your fourth orgasm of the day, rubbing over your belly gently “gonna fuckin stretch this belly out again mm?” He growled hotly in your ear and you giggle, slapping his back playfully. 
“You're so funny talking about wanting to wait” you said and he huffs a laugh into your neck. 
“Yeah yeah. Legs up- Thena’s gonna be hungry soon so Y’can only prop up there f’r like half an hour” he said and helped you put the pillows against the headboard with your hips on them so you were at an angle and rest your legs up on it to let gravity do its thing.  It wasn’t surprising to you, but he absolutely wasn’t opposed to another one so soon after a little convincing.
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