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iamnotoriginalphil · 1 month

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Roommates? (Melissa Schemmenti x f!Reader)

Synopsis: You move into Mel's spare room

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: praise kink if you squint, swearing, mentions of alcohol

AN: Written after 3x07.

You groaned as you dropped into your seat in the break room, not hungry for the lunch you’d packed for yourself. Burying your head in your hands, you did your best to try not to think about the email you’d just received. It was hard when your stress was becoming all encompassing after weeks of it.

“What going on with you?”

You groaned again, even when you felt the brush of an arm against yours. The floral scent you’d grown accustomed to over the last few years wafted towards you. Melissa. Your closest friend at the school, and the person you’d been pining after for so long you’d lost any self respect you might have had.

“That place I was going to move into fell through,” you said, “I feel like I’ve seen every spare room in this city and there is no where to live.”

You peeked at her from between your fingers, hating to sound so whiny but knowing that your stress levels had reached breaking point. She was looking at you with a raised eyebrow and an incredulous look. You sighed, sitting up properly under her watchful gaze.

“You know Jacob’s looking for a place too,” Gregory said from the other table.

“I know,” you groaned, “he suggested we look for a place together and I can’t commit to living and working with that man. He once tried to rap at me about the Martin Luther King Jr and I can’t have that in my home.”

“I get that,” Gregory replied, “why are you even looking for a new place to live? Your place is nice.”

“My roommate keeps watching me when I sleep. Sometimes I wake up and she’s standing at the end of my bed just staring at me. It freaks me out.”

“Well hey, I’m thinking of renting out my spare room. Would you be interested, hon?”

You hadn’t expected Melissa to say that.

“Really?”

She gave you one of those small smiles that you’d never seen her give another person. Your heart fluttered and you found your cheeks heating up.

“Really,” she said, “you can pay rent, right?”

“Yeah, of course,” you replied.

“You can move in this weekend,” she said.

Come Saturday, your things were in boxes and bags, and you had a spring in your step. You were humming to yourself as you packed up your car, your entire life filling the seats and the trunk. You took one last look at the building, sighed, then got in your car and drove to the next chapter of your life.

It wasn’t until you were standing in front of the door that the reality of what you were about to do crashed into you. Living with Melissa. Being in her space all the time. Existing in close proximity. She was going to see you first thing in the morning. You were going to see her late at night.

Your crush was going to either get so much worse or dissipate when you saw all of her annoying habits.

The door opened before you could knock, revealing the red head who starred in so many of your dreams. You blinked, rearing back, not having expected her to suddenly appear. Her lips quirked up, hand snapping out to grasp you around the elbow before you could fall backwards.

“Were you planning on knocking or do you wanna live on my front step?” she asked.

“ I was… just about to… can you help with my boxes?” you asked instead, switching tracks without having to explain yourself.

“Sure, hon,” she chuckled, slipping past you.

Watching her lift your heavy boxes set off something primal in you. You followed behind her, your own arms full of your stuff. She led you up the stairs and into her spare bedroom, placing the boxes down on the made up bed.

“Well, here you are. Bed, dresser, the bathroom is down the hall. You can have a a shelf in the fridge. Your key is just there. Let me know if you need anything else,” she said.

“Thanks.”

“Do you need help with the rest of your stuff?” she asked.

“Only if you want to. I can do it myself. It’s no bother.” You had no idea why you were saying no. You felt flustered. You always felt a bit flustered around her.

“Come on, hon,” she said, giving you an indulgent smile, “the sooner we start the sooner we’ll be done.”

She left you alone after pttling the last of the boxes into your room, leaving you to unpack and settle in. Sorting your clothes into colours helped to ease your thoughts, the mindless work turning your head empty. It calmed you, getting your life in order so you could get your thoughts in order.

It wasn’t going to be so bad living with Melissa. She was being nice to you which was more than Jacob or Janine had been able to say after their cooking lesson with her. Accommodating was the word. She was almost going out of her way to be nice.

And most importantly you could keep your crush to yourself without ruining it all.

That night, she made dinner, offering you some and then curled up on the couch with a glass of wine. You were hesitant about joining her, hovering until she rolled her eyes and tugged you to sit beside her.

But it was easy to fall into a routine with her. Surprisingly easy. So easy that you didn’t even notice until a few weeks in.

Sitting at the table on a Wednesday night, doing the puzzle you’d started over the weekend, you listened to her hum in the kitchen. Something was bubbling on the stove top, the smell mouth watering. You looked up as fingers pushed a piece towards you.

“Thanks,” you said, looking up at her.

She was already smiling at you and you couldn’t help but smile back. It was an instinctual response. You couldn’t help it when it came to Mel.

“You hungry?” she asked.

“Always,” you replied, knowing it was the answer she wanted.

“C’mon then, hon, make some room. Can’t have you starving before you finish that patch of sky,” she said.

“You’re teasing but I saw you get excited when you finished the boat,” you said, clearing your pieces away from one end of the table.

Sitting across from her, the lights soft and warm, there was always something a little romantic to the feeling. Of course, you were sure it was all in your head but you couldn’t help but enjoy it, just a little, more than you should. She would look at you, those twinkling green eyes making you flush, and her smile had butterflies erupting in your stomach.

Still, every night felt like domestic bliss. Coming home with her, in the bubble of her house, the quiet night pressing in on the window, it was the kind of life you hadn’t known you’d been missing.

“You’re a goddess in the kitchen,” you said.

She’d waited for you to try her food, just as she always did before beginning to eat her own meal. Her foot brushed against yours under the table, making you jump. She chuckled, doing it again and you felt your cheeks heat and your heart stumble over itself.

Some days it almost felt like she was flirting with you.

“You’re sweet, hon,” she said.

You found your foot brushing against hers again, emboldened by her bashful response. Those green eyes flicked up to you, something twinkling in their depths. You weren’t sure how you looked but you were worried you’d shown your hand to her.

Dropping your foot back to the floor, you averted your gaze down to the plate of pasta she’d laid down in front of you. Her foot nudged yours before resting against it, length to length, the warmth of her skin seeping into yours.

She kept silent the rest of the meal, following your lead. You weren’t sure you could say anything, not with her foot against yours. Certainly not if she was watching you.

You remained silent as you cleared the table once she was done. Standing shoulder to shoulder at the sink, you did the washing up together, working in companionable tandem. You were so in tune with one another after living together for those few weeks, working together came without flaws.

“Are you gonna be watching our show tonight?” she asked into the silence.

You didn’t say no.

Sitting beside her on the sofa had always been trouble for you. Shoulder to shoulder, lit by nothing but the flickering screen, sharing a bowl of popcorn until your hands brushed together, it had always been a specific type of torture for you. The air always felt electric to you, and you knew it didn’t for her.

Except this night her head fell to your shoulder and her body curled towards yours. You froze until she admonished you, doing your best to relax your muscles. And there you stayed until she went to bed, feeling as if you had entered some kind of parallel universe.

Thursday night you’d put the entire odd experience behind you. She hadn’t mentioned it over breakfast or on the car ride over to school. On the ride back home she’d sung along to the radio, keeping her hands and feet to herself. You’d thought it was done. You thought you wouldn’t be tortured anymore.

But after you’d changed out of your school clothes and into something more comfortable, a knock sounded on your door. Opening the door, you found her in the hall, wet hair clinging to the skin of her neck, a towel wrapped around her body. You stumbled back a step, blinking at the vision before you.

“Um…” was all you managed to say.

“Have you seen my Eagles hoodie?” she asked.

“No,” you replied faintly, doing your best to not let your eyes wander further south than her chin.

“You sure? Because I can’t find it,” she said.

“Did you check in the washing?” you asked, hoping that would send her away.

“I thought you mighta borrowed it,” she said, lips tipping up into a small smirk, “you always seem to like it when I wear it. Can’t keep your hands off me.”

You felt your cheeks heat even further, deeper, almost uncomfortably. You looked down at your feet, terrified to be caught staring at her. You didn’t need to come across as a creep to her, ruining your friendship completely and irrevocably.

“I’m just teasing, hon,” she said, shoving your shoulder, “it’s probably in the wash.”

You were left staring at her retreating back as she left you be with your swirling thoughts and thundering heart, breathless from the image of all that skin on display. You were slow to close your door, leaning back against it as you breathed out a long sigh. Pressing a hand to your chest, you could feel the beating of your heart against your skin, practically bursting from your body.

The after image of her in the towel stayed in your mind until you could bring yourself to venture downstairs.

She was standing at the hob, stirring something on the stove, dressed in the familiar grey hoodie she’d been looking for. You blinked then stepped further in. She turned, smiling at you over her shoulder.

“Wanna help me out here?” she asked, seeming not bothered by the interaction upstairs.

“Sure,” you said, wanting to move past it too. Clearly, it hadn’t effected her the way it had effected you.

“Can you keep stirring this for me? I gotta start on the chopping,” she said.

“Sure,” you said again.

Your fingers brushed over hers as you took the wooden spoon from her. She paused a moment, eyes roving over your face. You held your breath, frozen, waiting, wondering what she was thinking.

“Keep stirring, hon,” she whispered, hand guiding yours, the skin of her palm warm against yours.

Slipping away, you kept your eyes on the pot, not wanting her to see the way you were beginning to come undone. One day you could brush off as weird, two made you wonder what was going on.

A warm hand landed on your hip, practically burning through the fabric of your leggings. A soft chin rested on your shoulder, looking over you as you continued stirring. You didn’t know what to do but keep stirring. If you focused on the warmth and the soft body brushing against your back you might melt into a puddle of goo.

“Good job, hon,” she murmured, lips brushing your earlobe.

A small squeak came from your parted lips and her throaty chuckle only made you feel as if you were crumbling in her arms. Those hands on your hips gently pushed you out of the way, fingers plucking the spoon from your hand.

“Go on, go finish that patch of sky. I can finish up here,” she said, sounding as if she had no idea the turmoil she was causing you.

You simply nodded and wandered back to the dining table. You sat, staring at the pieces, trying to reel your thoughts back in. A finger absently ran along the sides of the puzzle, feeling the gaps for the missing pieces. It wasn’t that Melissa wasn’t tactile, sometimes she could be, but this whole thing was something more. A step further.

A little closer to the kind of relationship you wanted with her.

That night she curled up against you again, cheek resting on your shoulder in the flickering light of the tv, hand resting on the thigh hers was resting against. You spent the entire time holding your breath until she slipped away to her room.

Friday left you on tenterhooks. Once again she was normal right up until your return home after a day at school. You were considering retreating into your room and not emerging for the rest of the night. It felt as if she was playing a game with you and you hadn’t been informed of the rules.

And yet you kind of revelled in the attention, if only because it might be your only chance to pretend she wanted you the way you wanted her.

You weren’t given the chance to make the choice for yourself.

A knock on the sounded on your bedroom door once again. You flung on a shirt, covering up as best you could while in the middle of changing out of your work clothes. Pulling open the door, you looked down, finding yourself in one of the lacy camisoles you’d been trying on last weekend when going out with friends for a drink. You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, trying to contain the groan you wanted to release. When you opened your eyes it was to find a smirk and sparkling green eyes turned in your direction.

“I was coming to offer you a glass of wine but it looks like you might be going out,” she said.

Her eyes swept down your body and if you were a betting person, you thought her gaze might have lingered on the cleavage on display. You found your back arching, just a moment, until her eyes swept back to yours and her smirk only deepened.

“Come on down, hon. You ain’t going anywhere in those sweat pants,” she said.

“I’ll take that wine,” you said, needing to drown your embarrassment in something.

You trailed behind her down the stairs into the kitchen. It truly was the heart of the home in Melissa’s house. You hoisted yourself onto a bench as she poured the wine. As she’d pointed out, there was no chance you were about to head out in the sweats you were wearing, even if the lacy cami on the top was more dressed up than was normal for slouching around the house on a Friday night.

When she turned back around, her eyes seemed to light up. She sauntered towards you, both hands holding glasses of red wine. Offering you one, she drew closer. You took a deep drink, needing it more and more as she took another step closer to you. Her thumb came up, running along your lower lip, wiping away a drop of wine before she sucked it into her mouth, maintaining eye contact with you.

“Mel.” You felt as if you’d woken up into a dream, breathless and unsure of what you could do.

“Yes, hon?” Her voice had turned so husky you weren’t sure you were existing in real life anymore.

When you didn’t reply she took one last step forward, right between your thighs. One hand ran up your leg making fire lick through your veins and your cheeks heat under her gaze. Her lips ticked up into a smirk again, seeming to enjoy the trouble you were having at forming a sentence.

“What are you doing?” you finally managed to get out in a whisper.

“Aren’t you enjoying it?” she asked.

“I don’t…” It came out strangled, “Mel, please.”

“I’m trying to seduce you, hon,” she said, “is it working?”

You nodded, not sure you were capable of forming words. Just the thought she was trying to seduce was enough to send you into a coma. You hadn’t thought she would ever look at you the way you looked at her.

“C’mon, hon. You can do better than that. Say it.”

“It’s working,” you whispered, not sure you could deny her anything in this moment.

“Good girl.”

She drew ever closer, breath ghosting over your lips. You froze, eyes fluttering shut, waiting to see what she was going to do. A brush of lips, a soft sigh, fingers clenching around your thigh. You barely had the chance to enjoy it before she was stepping back from you. The whimper that came from you was embarrassing but the look on her face when you opened your eyes was smug.

“Mel,” you said again, not sure there were any words other than her anymore.

“Do you know the hell you’ve put me through since moving in? You’re so fucking hot and I don’t think you even know it. You’re the exact woman my Nonna warned my cousin Vinny about,” she said, almost groaning.

“I haven’t been doing anything,” you said, addressing the only thing you could.

“Parading around in your tight leggings and these little tops and those fucking shorts in the morning. And when you’re thinking about something your tongue pokes out and then all I can think about is reaching over and kissing you. Also did you know you hum to yourself when you think no one’s around. Fuck, when I see you in the kitchen humming and dancing I just want to pin you to the closest surface and fuck you until you can’t do anything but say my name.”

You weren’t sure you had a good response.

“Yeah but you wear tight trousers pretty much every day at work,” was your only come back.

“But you weren’t looking at me in them and thinking what it would feel like to have my legs wrapped around you,” she replied as if it was the most natural answer in the world.

“I fucking was,” you snapped, at the end of your rope. She’d been playing with you long enough, “christ sake, Mel. I’ve been thinking about you since the first time we met. You’re literally the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen. I didn’t think you were interested.”

“Hon, I let you move into my house. What part of that says I’m not interested?” she demanded.

“I don’t know,” you said, sounding angrier than you expected, “you might have just been trying to be a good friend.”

“Then let me be very clear.” She took a step back between your legs again, “I am very interested in you.”

You legs tightened around her hips, holding her in place as you lent forward. Your lips ghosted over hers and you were surprised by the noise that came from her. It was whiny and needy and she was straining towards you. You chuckled, drawing back.

“If you plan on seducing me, I expect to be wined and dined,” you said, “no more fooling around until you put some effort in and prove I’m worth it.”

“You fucking brat,” she laughed, a hand curling around the back of your neck to pull you closer.

She kissed you deeply, tongue licking into your mouth, sending your thoughts spiralling away from you. Your knees tightened on her hips, your hands cupping her cheeks, indulging her for long enough to let her think she’d gotten her way. You nipped at her lower lip before drawing away.

“Wining and dining, Mel. I’m not some common whore,” you said, “I deserve romance.”

“There’s your wine,” she said, shoving the glass back into your hands, “I’ll make a start on dinner.”

You bit down on your lip, watching her slam down a knife on the cutting board, grumbling under her breath, trying to hold in a grin. The glare she gave you broke the flood gates as giggles tumbled from your lips.

“You keep on like this and I’ll stop seducing you,” she threatened.

“You stop and I’ll wear those shorts you like all weekend,” you retaliated.

You caught her arm, drawing her in for another kiss, just enough to remind her what was waiting. She softened, gently squeezing your leg before going back to cooking. You watched her, finding yourself falling more and more for her, the anticipation delicious, the woman beautiful.

And maybe moving into her home was the best thing to ever happen to you.

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti imagine

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ghost-proofbaby · 9 months

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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, smut (oral, f receiving), overload of cheesiness, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 11.8k+

→ a/n: this might be the cheesiest, fluffiest thing i've ever written, and i can't even be bothered to care. it might be unrealistic. it might be too much. i do not care. this has been a long time coming and i think we all deserve all the cheese after this story.

i don't even know what to say besides thank you. thank you to everyone who followed along from the beginning, to those of you joined the journey along the way, to those of you who are reading as we finish it up. thank you for all the support and love you guys have shown this fic. i will always, always, appreciate it more than i know how to say. i love these idiots, and i love you all.

if you would like to see this story continued through small blurbs, my ask box is officially open to requests from this universe. i will also probably be posting some "beyond the hours" content over the next few weeks.

thank you. i love you.

without further ado...

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

EPILOGUE: A BET

TWO MONTHS LATER

“Why are there so many fuckin’ options?”

Eddie stares at the line up of smartphones before him, all different models and different physical sizes, different colors and different memory amounts.

“There’s not that many,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around him from behind as you rest your chin on his shoulder. It’s a bit of a stretch, making you lean up onto your tippy toes, “Besides, isn’t having options a good thing?”

He scoffs as he brings a hand up subconsciously to where your arms overlap on his torso, grip gentle as he runs a thumb over your skin and gives a squeeze, “Sure, options are great. But there’s at least twenty different iPhones on display here, sweetheart.”

The last few months had been interesting, to say the least. A new and exciting journey initially, but also a fairly stressful ordeal given all the hoops you two had been jumping through. You’re both busy people, having to suddenly figure out how to carve out a specific space for each other amongst bustling lives. It wasn’t the same as making time for friends or a weekly night out; it was figuring out times for dates, times for lazy afternoons, times for just you and just Eddie.

And, occasionally, time to take Eddie shopping for a new phone. Finally.

“Well, better pick one fast,” your fingers dig into his side playful, and he blows out an annoyed breath as he side-eyes you. You only retaliate in a fast peck to his cheek before whispering in his ear, “We’re gonna be late if you keep taking all day.”

It was Argyle’s birthday party tonight. His actual birthday wasn’t for another week, but he’d be venturing back home to California for that. And so the group elected to throw him a preemptive party at one of the group’s favorite bars.

Which — fine. Awesome. You were excited, you really were: you loved Argyle, you loved your friends, you even found yourself warming back up to parties.

But your friends didn’t know.

Two whole months, and neither you nor Eddie had told a single soul of what had become between you two. Not even Steve. Not even Nancy.

At first the excuse was to give this time to grow, to find your footing before you brought your lovable yet rambunctious group of friends into the equation. But then you two had found your footing, and you’d worried what they would say. Eddie had nearly made himself sick with anxiety over Nancy finding out he’d kept this relationship from her. They’d support you two — that wasn’t a worry. They’d proven that since the first time the entire group had hung out after the bet.

“So,” Robin started, narrowing her eyes at you and Eddie sitting on opposite ends of her and Steve’s couch. Neither of you had said a word to each other yet (Plenty had already been said that morning as you’d snuck him out of your dorm), “You two really aren’t together?”

“Why is everyone so adamant that the bet has to end with us getting together?” you jeered.

Eddie didn’t help the cause when he was quick to take your side, “Exactly! The bet’s over. We lasted twenty four hours. We’re friends now — isn’t that what you guys wanted?”

“I actually wanted to help you dudes plan a winter wedding,” Argyle chimed from the kitchen where he was retrieving a coke, “So I’m gonna side with Birdie on this one.”

“Of course you are,” you muttered beneath your breath.

Everything in you ached to be sitting next to Eddie rather than so far. You ached for his arm around you, his lips pressed to your temple. Just to share body heat, even — innocent thighs brushing with layers of denim between would have been enough.

“It’ll happen eventually,” Nancy mused from her seat on the kitchen counter, Jonathan beside her and matching her confident energy with a sly grin, “Just give them time.”

What they hadn’t realized is that it already did happen. The moment Eddie showed up to your dorm and the two of you said to Hell with space, it was inevitable.

Now, it was just the challenge of letting your friends in on the secret.

“What about the red one?” Eddie asks you as you finally unravel from him.

“Of course you’re choosing the red one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he scowls, no malice behind it as you step up to occupy the space next to him, brushing shoulders for only a moment before his hand is grabbing yours, intertwining fingers like second nature.

You recall that moment on his balcony, where he had once been so nervous and hesitant to hold your hand.

“Nothing,” you shake your head, smiling to yourself as you look at the specific model he was talking about, “You’re just getting a little bit predictable, Munson.”

He opens his mouth to argue, to nip back at what you always offer him, when one of the salesmen approach you two.

“Hi folks! Can I help you with anything today?”

Eddie squeezes your hand, no doubt in an effort to withhold his laughter at the man’s overly chirpy tone. You squeeze back, if for nothing more than to let him know you felt him.

Despite Eddie’s previous claim to a decision, he still chooses to entertain the man. Asking questions about different models, inquiring for recommendations as if they’d change his mind. They go back and forth, both polite enough, but the conversation easily bores you. In five seconds flat, your mind has officially wandered off.

You two hadn’t really discussed the specific details of the night to come. Whether you’d ride with Eddie there, how you’d navigate Eddie’s natural born clinginess once he got a few drinks in him, if tonight might be the night to finally tell your friends.

The last one felt a bit obvious. It was Argyle’s night — you didn’t want to snatch the attention from him for even a second.

But there were layers to your anxiety. Because it was more than just how to navigate how you two would display yourselves to your friends on nights out.

It had been two months, and you still hadn’t said those three little words back to Eddie.

He didn’t pressure you. He never once brought it back up, never once pressured you. But just because he wasn’t constantly reminding you vocally that he loved you didn’t mean you didn’t feel it. You’d felt it, impossible to miss, when all those lazy morning fantasies became reality. You felt it during movie marathons and you felt it every time he’d worship your body. It was there — in the late nights, in the early mornings, in the dull afternoons. A wild thing unleashed in your gardens, all those vines you’d worked so hard to see flourish threatened to be torn up by impatient claws at the feeling growing rapidly in your chest every time you looked at him.

And slowly, surely, you knew that there was only so much longer that like could suffice in describing your feelings for Eddie.

You were falling, whether he was aware or not. You just needed to figure out the right moment for those three little words to unstick, to go from hot honey on your tongue to easy breaths between you two. He’s given you time, he’d filled the months you’d awarded him with making up for every previously bitter exchange, and yet you still couldn’t give him this. And you’re starting to believe maybe that’s why you couldn’t imagine telling your friends yet.

You sort of hated yourself for it.

You’re pulled back to reality once the salesman departs, no doubt into the back to grab Eddie’s choice of phone. You don’t even have to ask; you know he got the red one.

“Hey,” Eddie fully turns to you, bringing your knuckles to his lips in chaste kisses. Your stomach still kicks with flutters, your heart still warms at the gesture. Eddie’s affection has yet to lose novelty, “Where’d you go?”

“What do you mean?” you twist your face, “I was here the entire tim-“

“Not where’d you physically go,” he clarifies, letting your conjoined hands drop back to the sliver of space between your bodies, “Mentally. Where’d your mind just go?”

You hadn’t thought he’d notice your drifting.

“Nowhere,” you shrug off.

“Nowhere? So you’re really just that interested in the newest iPhone model?”

He pointedly looks up at the widescreen display you don’t doubt you’d been blankly staring at the entirety of his conversation with the man who had yet to return.

“Oh, absolutely. You know me so well.”

All bark, no bite. These days, all the previous venom that had infected exchanges with Eddie prior to the bet had finally been sucked clean from the wound, long gone to make room for all the genuine affection to seep into its place. You still argued — or perhaps bantered was a better word for it — but you didn’t fight. You both still grated on one another’s nerves and managed to slither beneath the other’s skin, but not in an unwelcome way.

It was a nice change.

It made you hate yourself even more for not saying those three little words.

Eddie seemingly reads your mind, “Are you nervous for tonight?”

“I-“ you consider lying to him and saying it hadn’t even crossed your mind, but the look he gives you warns against it, “We just haven’t… discussed it.”

“What’s there to discuss?”

You hold up your interlocked hands for emphasis, raising your eyebrows at Eddie.

His mouth falls open softly, eyes widening, “Oh. Are you- Are you wanting to tell them tonight?”

No, your gut screams, absolutely not tonight.

“Is Argyle’s birthday party really the best time to explode their minds?”

You try to keep your tone teasing as you sense Eddie’s own nerves creeping up. Sometimes it was fun, standing in a room with everyone and pretending to be more akin to strangers than lovers. But sometimes, it was just plain painful. Sometimes, the entire group would be laughing at something, and you craved nothing more than to be pressed into Eddie’s side and feel the vibrations of his shared joy rather than just having to listen to it from across the room.

It’s not that you wanted to tell your friends and cause a scene — you just didn’t want to have to hide anymore. And maybe you wouldn’t have to, if you’d just tell him how you felt.

“Probably not,” Eddie murmurs, “I mean, it’s his night. We can always tell them the next time we all get together.”

The issue is that’s what the two of you always say. You always brush it off for the next time.

You can only sigh in defeat as you see the salesman finally bounding back out from the back room, a small box holding Eddie’s purchase in his grip, “Yeah. Next time.”

You can’t even be mad at next time. It’s the same thing you tell yourself every time you felt those words on the tip of your tongue, so close yet so far from revealing the most terrifying truth you’d discovered yet to Eddie.

You let go of his hand long enough for him to check out, hardly overhearing when he questions how they can transfer all the data from his current flip phone. When he seems particularly worried about pictures transferring, you don’t think anything of it.

—

STEVE-O: do i need to pick you up tonight?

You don’t see the text. You’re a bit busy with something when it comes through.

Something is currently still between your legs, curls threaded between your fingers as your back arches off his mattress and his name starts to come out as a desperate whimper rather than a chant.

STEVE-O: ???

The initial buzz of your phone on his nightstand doesn’t phase either of you. Eddie’s tongue still works you eagerly, circling your clit as you tug particularly harshly at his roots. Each flick sends white hot pleasure through your bones, nearly making you see stars.

“Fuck,” you gasp out when he brings his fingers into the mix. You can feel his smile against you as he curls his fingers inside of you, mimicking a come hither motion and relishing in your little pants as your thighs tighten around his shoulders, “Oh, fuck. Right there, Eddie. I- Eddie.”

The way you’re moaning his name only encourages him as he slips in a second finger, stretching you further. You feel cool metal bumping your entrance, sending shocks up your spine as his lips suction against you and he sucks hard.

He hadn’t even taken the time to remove his rings when the two of you had gotten home. He had been too eager, dragging you to his bedroom with his lips attached to your neck from the moment he’d shut the front door behind the two of you until he’d thrown you down on his bed.

“That’s right, baby,” his voice vibrates against your clit, “Say my name. Tell everyone who’s making you feel this goo-“

STEVE-O: helllooooo????

“Okay, who the fuck keeps texting you?” Eddie finally pulls back when he realizes you’re slipping out of that bubble he’d created, your head having turned towards the nightstand in curiosity, “Let me guess, it’s your other boyfriend?”

Your head is still spinning and your chest continues to heave from that lingering pleasure he’d been offering so generously to you. He sounds annoyed, but you can guarantee you’re even more irked.

“I don’t have another boyfriend,” you blandly reply, not taking his bait.

It only makes him wrap his hands around your thighs on his shoulder, giving a playful squeeze as you reach out for your phone.

“You sure?”

You squint at the notifications, but don’t properly read them, only rolling your eyes at both the fact that Steve’s the one interrupting this precious moment and at Eddie’s valiant teasing.

You slam the phone back down, eyes trailing down to his, “I am, but I can certainly find another boyfriend if you don’t get your mouth back on me in the next three seconds-“

He doesn’t need a second warning. In an instant, the warmth of his tongue is back on you, lapping at all the spots he’s come to memorize as of recently. That pleasure comes back into reach, edging your vision with feathery black as your eyes flutter shut and the coil in your stomach tightens.

You throw your head back into one of his pillows, one that has started to smell like your shampoo now rather than his, and let a drawn out whine escape your lips.

“You were saying?” he teases, grinning wickedly. He takes that brief moment to come up for air, turning and sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your thigh beside his cheek. Not hard enough to draw blood, and probably not hard enough to leave indents. But it is enough to have you preening once more as your heels dig into his bare back and you try to lift your hips, desperate for his mouth again.

He was edging you. Without even meaning to, he was repeatedly bringing you to the edge only to leave you teetering.

With your focus back on him, you can admire how pretty he looks. Mouth slick with you, pupils blown out, hair an absolute mess. You like him best this way, you think, when he looks so absolutely devoted to you. When he’s looking at you with a hunger you almost can’t place. It makes you want to scream from the rooftops about how you’ve fallen for him. How you feel so much more than like for your boy.

STEVE-O: seriously. if you don’t respond, you can just walk. you have five minutes.

At the buzz of the phone, your hands leave Eddie’s hair to form fists, pounding them into the mattress at your side in a brief tantrum. He ceases all actions, pulling his lips away from you again, and it only makes you pout more.

“Baby,” he coos, fingers trailing up the sides of your thighs before he reaches out to hold your fists down, “Maybe you should answer him. Tell him to fuck off-“

Eddie’s interrupted as your phone fully bursts to life with your ringtone.

You were going to kill Steve Harrington.

“On second thought, let me answer it,” Eddie groans as you reach out and grab it once more, “Give the fucker a piece of my mind.”

“Shut up,” you hiss as you realize it’s Robin calling. You turn the screen so he can see, and his eyebrows lift in surprise.

He makes no move to remove himself from between your legs, though. He stays face to face with your aching core.

“Hello?” you snap after swiping to answer.

“Finally! My God, Steve’s been texting you-“

“I didn’t see the texts.”

“Do you need a ride?”

“Nope.”

You’ve never been so short with your friends.

But that pleasure is slipping from you, the flames of your impending orgasm dying down to nothing more than embers. It’s enough to piss anyone off.

“Are you sure?” Robin asks, sounding genuinely concerned, “It’s kind of a far walk-“

“I’m running late,” you sigh, realizing that you were going to have to come up with a lie to get off the hook. Another thing you hated about the hiding — it led to your friendships being littered with dishonesty. Always a new excuse as to why you weren’t available, always feigning reasons as to why you didn’t reply to texts as timely as you used to. “With getting ready. I could- I don’t know, do you think Eddie might pick me up? Isn’t my dorm along the way to the bar from his place?”

At the mention of his name, he perks up. His cheek settles against the exact spot he had bit just moments before, nearly nuzzling into you as your free hand comes down to gently push back his bangs. On instinct, you find yourself soothingly pressing your fingertips in slow circles against his scalp. You’re nearly melting beneath his soft gaze, those big and wide eyes locked on you with bated breath.

“You want Eddie to pick you up?” you suddenly hear Steve exclaim in the background.

Your face scrunches up, a wrinkle forming across the bridge of your nose and between your brows. It’s so damn cute to Eddie that he can’t help but press a quick kiss to the skin he continues to lay into, beginning to smile as your absent-minded head massage continues.

So much more than like.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was on speaker.”

“Why do you want Munson to pick you up?” Steve ignores your sarcasm, voice sounding closer to the phone now, “He drives a motorcycle, you know. That’s dangerous.”

Eddie must be able to catch some of Steve’s shrill exclamation, his eyebrows raising ever so slightly. You feel his curious hum against your skin and you don’t hesitate putting your own pesky friends on speaker.

“Motorcycles are not that dangerous,” you retort, and it makes Eddie have to hide a slight scoff into your thigh in an effort to stay silent. It was ironic that they cared about how safe it would be for you to ride with Eddie on his bike now, after that allegedly dangerous vehicle had been your main source of transportation for nearly two months now, “He has a helmet, right?”

“Isn’t your dorm the opposite direction of the bar from his place?” Robin questions, “I mean, I’m all for you asking lover boy if he’ll give you a ride but-”

Steve interrupts her flatly, “It’s making him go out of his way. Besides, he might have already left for the bar by now.”

You don’t know what to silently laugh at first. The assumption they were making that couldn’t be further from the truth, or Robin’s new nickname for Eddie.

Lover boy is fitting for him in this current position. He’s still latching onto your leg, cuddling you in every way he could from where he laid, staring at you and hanging onto your every last word. The poster boy for pathetically in love, he gives your leg another kiss, starting a fiery trail with his lips until he reaches your knee. It pangs in your chest, wondering if he can see your feelings also painted so obviously across your face.

“Steve,” you murmur, breath catching in your throat as Eddie’s lips linger in the ditch of your knee. It takes a second to remember you’re on the phone, “No offense, but Eddie hasn’t been on time to a single get together the entire time I’ve known him.”

Eddie reacts in real time to your insult, forcing an over-exaggerated offended look before he bites you again. This time, his teeth do leave an imprint from his nip, and it makes you slap a hand over your mouth to avoid yelping.

Don’t bite me, you mouth at him.

Don’t be mean, he answers right back, silent as ever.

“Technically we’re all already late,” Steve points out. It makes you sit up quickly, startling Eddie in the process. You squint at the clock across the room and- fuck. Steve was right, “Nancy just texted me that she and Jon are there, Argyle’s on his way. She said she tried texting Eddie but didn’t get any response,” there’s a long pause as you motion wildly for Eddie to get up with you, the boy watching as you fling yourself off his mattress and carry the phone with you to his dresser, “Have… you heard from him recently?”

“Why are you saying it like that?” you jab, throwing open one of the drawers Eddie had cleared out for you to keep some clothes here in his apartment. At this point, a good chunk of the tuition you paid was going to waste considering the fact you rarely spent the night at your dorm. You were already half moved into Eddie’s space.

You try not to think too hard about it, because just last week, you’d had a panic attack at the revelation.

You were afraid of smothering him, even if he was the one always insisting you could leave more of your things here. He was always the one conning you into spending another night, promising soft murmurs of giving you a ride to class the next morning if you did. You rarely ever had much of the choice in the matter; once he’d wrap his arms around your waist, curl his body flush against yours, it was always game over.

Practically living together, and you still hadn’t said those words back to him.

“I’m not saying it like anything!” Steve defends himself, “I’m just asking an innocent question!” Eddie’s snort this time is audible, and you freeze as Steve clearly mistakes it for your laughter, “Shut up. It’s a reasonable question. You guys are friends now, remember?”

Friends. Of course, because all your friends jumped at the chance to bury their mouths against your cunt and make you cum repeatedly until you had tears streaming down your cheeks. Because you let all your friends sleep in the same bed as you, and wake you up by burying deep within you as they bite your shoulder with a moan. You and Eddie were friends.

“Trust me,” you glance over your shoulder in your haste, looking at Eddie as he stretches out on his side and props himself up on his elbow, “I remember.”

He gives you a knowing smile, squinting his eyes at you in entertainment.

“Babe, it really would just be easier for you to ride with us,” Robin’s voice sounds again as you tug a shirt out of the drawer, something casual and comfortable that you could style for the night, “Unless you’re just hellbent on having alone time with Eddie for some reason-”

“I’m not hellbent on being alone with him, Robs.”

Another lie. I definitely am. But not in the context you think.

“You just sound like you are.”

“Well, I’m not,” you yank a pair of black jeans free from the drawer and slam it shut, standing and turning to Eddie.

He hardly has time to react before you’re tossing your phone down on the mattress in front of him, the small device bouncing and hitting his chest. He winces and throws himself back dramatically, letting out a small oof that you pray neither Robin or Steve pick up on.

As you dress, throwing on the random t-shirt and shimmying on your jeans, Robins laughs, “Denial isn’t a good look on you.”

Eddie watches you, never moving to get ready himself. All he does is stare as you button up the pants.

When you give him an expectant look, he merely mouths, bra?

You shake your head. You don’t know where Eddie had flung your undergarment, and you’re not in the mood to frantically search for it. You’ve gone without a bra before – you can survive one night out without one.

Eddie’s entire face and chest immediately flushes pink. Cute.

“Now you guys are just being assholes,” you scowl despite the fact that only Eddie can see it, waving your hands to motion for him to get up and also get dressed, “I’m texting Eddie. If he has already left, I’ll just walk. Fuck you guys.”

“Tell lover boy I said hi,” Robin teases.

“Even if he’s already parked at the fucking bar at this point, we both know he’d jump right back on his bike and come pick you up,” Steve’s voice grumbles over the line.

It almost makes you smile. “Someone sounds jealous.”

“Not jealous, just annoyed,” Steve corrects as Eddie finally stands from the bed, “When are you two going to get your shit together?”

“What do you mean?” you play dumb.

You’ve had this conversation with your friends multiple times. They were truly going to have your head once they realized what you’d been keeping from them for months now.

“Don’t you have a 4.0 GPA?” Robin inserts herself back into the conversation, “You can’t possibly be this stupid.”

Eddie pauses in his fumbling with pulling his jeans from the pile he’d left his clothes in at the end of the beg, face scrunching in silent laughter. You almost walk over and smack his bare back angled towards you.

“First of all, no. I don’t have a 4.0 GPA. Thanks for the reminder,” you grab your phone back off of the bed and decide to leave Eddie behind in the room, heading into the bathroom to finish getting ready. You hate to admit it, but if you have to keep watching him giggle so cutely to himself, you’ll also probably break. And you aren’t in the mood for any further interrogation from Robin and Steve, “Second of all, I’m hanging up now. I’m going to call Eddie. At least he won’t be such a dick to me.”

“Oh, you must see the irony there-”

You cut Steve off, “Bye! See you in… like, ten minutes.”

Once you’ve hung up, you put your phone down on the bathroom counter and look up into the mirror. Your hair is a mess, wild and tangled from all the writhing you had been doing before being so rudely interrupted. You give it your best effort, trying to tame it a little bit to look more presentable, but it’s a lost cause at this point. Fuck it.

Eddie appears in the doorway behind you, fully dressed and his hair pulled back into a bun, leaning into the door frame with his arms crossed and an impish grin on display, “Oh, you’re going to call me now, sweetheart?”

You glare at him in a jocosely manner through the reflection, “Don’t look so proud of yourself.”

He pushes off the frame and comes up behind you, still locking his eyes only through the reflection as he leans his chin over your shoulder, “And what if I don’t want to give you a ride? You have been awfully mean – insulting my punctuality, throwing your phone at me, teasing me by going without a bra. The list goes on and on.”

Something deep within you stirs, those embers that still ache to burst into a forest fire. You hate that you could easily spend the entire night here with him, letting him take you every which way between his sheets. And even without sinful actions involved, you would be plenty content with just his presence tonight. As a matter of fact, you might be more content with that outcome rather than heading out to see your friends.

Sorry Argyle, you think guiltily.

“I’m teasing you?” you question just as his hands land on your hips, moving so that he was pressed firmly against the curve of your ass. Making sure you could feel how hard he was against the seam of his jeans’ zipper, “You didn’t even make me cum.”

“Seems like we’ll both be spending the night frustrated, then,” he smiles, almost gleefully, almost devilishly, “Besides, that was technically Harrington’s fault, not mine. We both know I usually have no problems making you cum on my tongue – without interruptions, of course.”

He rolls his hips ever so slightly into you, and your mouth falls open, eyes going glossy as you continue to stare him down through the mirror. The stirring in your abdomen is persistent now as your heart hammers against your ribs, mind melting and completely forgetting the obligation at hand.

And Eddie knows this. He’s well aware of the effect he’s having on you, and it’s deliberate.

Suddenly, his body completely pulls away from yours, “I’ll meet you downstairs. Don’t want to keep them waiting any longer, do we, sweetheart?”

Damn him. Damn him, and damn his dimples, and damn how good his legs look in those jeans as he’s walking away from me right now.

You linger in the apartment, alone, for a few extra minutes to compose yourself. Trying to quelch the heat between your hips that had slowly spread across your entire body, threatening to consume you. You even go as far as to splash cool water across your cheeks, giving yourself a few smacks for good measure as you try to prepare yourself to go into public and put on the usual act. And beneath it all, you also hush the animal in your chest, the one that claws at you to tell him. The one that wails everytime you simply tell him you like him, the one that roars when you let another moment slip you by. It has to quiet, just as your flames need to settle, all for the sake of the act.

You deserve a goddamn Oscar at this point.

After deciding that touching up your makeup would take up far too many precious seconds, you’re darting out of Eddie’s apartment, locking up behind yourself before you head down to where he’s waiting. He’s already straddling his parked bike, the engine roaring to life like the animal inside you as you exit the main doors of the building and his hands extend his only helmet. You don’t fight him on who’s going to wear it – that’s a battle, you’ve learned, you will always lose.

We really need to just buy a second helmet.

The thought makes you smile as you hold the clunky thing. Buying a second helmet. Something Eddie had never done before, because he had never had a regular passenger before. He had never had someone glued to his side as you had become, not even Nancy. It sounds terribly domestic; perusing aisles with him, debating which helmet fits your style best. He’d probably make a joke about your head being big. He’d probably tease you for looking at the ridiculously expensive ones and tell you to opt for a cheaper one. You’d probably end up with a pricier one in the cart regardless, and Eddie would probably refuse to let you pay for it.

Domesticity. The image of it doesn’t ache like it had that night all those months ago. This isn’t something you yearn for hopelessly, smoke and mirrors that dissipate when you dare to reach out for it. It’s something finally in your grasp. Something tangible and something bound to happen, all you’d have to do is say the word and Eddie would comply eagerly.

Anything to keep my girl safe, as he would tell you any time you pointed out how dangerous it was for him to go without a helmet. He’d gotten creative in saying his own version of those three little words.

“M’lady,” he hums, nodding for you to put the helmet on before sweeping a hand over the empty space in the seat behind him, “Your chariot awaits.”

You don’t have a snarky quip to throw back at him, only grinning at the ground as you flip the helmet around a few times to prepare to put it on. All those embers aren’t just desire for him – there’s a warmth there that always exists. A candle on the windowsill of the home you had finally found.

You raise the clunky thing and tilt your head when Eddie suddenly says, “Oh, and babe?”

Immediately, you lower it, eyes wide in curiosity, “What?”

“That’s my shirt.”

“What?”

He motions to the t-shirt tucked carefully into your jeans, “That fine shirt you are currently wearing is mine.”

You look down, and he’s right. It’s too late to go back inside to change, and you know he’s aware of this when you catch his amused smirk. He probably noticed the moment you had put it on, and had deliberately waited until it was too late for you to do anything about it to inform you.

Bastard.

“I-” you pinch the fabric between your fingers, looking between it and Eddie wildly for a second before your shoulders slumped in defeat, “It’s fine. I doubt they’ll even notice.”

—

You were wrong. They do notice.

Everyone is already waiting inside for the two of you, nestled around a table in the bar in a similar arrangement to the very first night you’d been introduced to the group. There’s only two empty seats left conveniently, right next to each other. You don’t miss that mischievous look of success on Robin’s face as she looks overly proud of herself.

They’d set it up so we’d sit next to each other.

You’re grateful for your friends’ antics until you go to take the empty seat next to Steve.

“Is that Eddie’s shirt?”

Robin is leaning around Steve eagerly as she says it, ridiculing the shirt intensely.

“What?” you laugh nervously, looking down and tugging at the fabric.

Lie. Make up a lie. Make it good.

“That is Eddie’s shirt,” Nancy looks surprised across the table, looking up at the two of you questioningly.

“What?” you repeat yourself. Eddie has already taken his seat, and is avoiding the stares of everyone, “No, it’s not.”

“He has one just like it,” Jonathan adds fuel to the fire, “He literally wore it - what? Two days ago?”

In a pathetic attempt of an excuse, you plop down in your seat and force an offended look, “People can own the same shirt. He’s not the gatekeeper of-” you look down, and nearly erupt in embarrassment when you see what the shirt is. “Deftones.”

Ah, fuck.

It’s not just the embarrassment of being on the verge of getting caught in your lie – it’s the memories that flood back. You, on Eddie’s lap. Your mouth and his becoming one. Steve calling, and you sucking so innocently on Eddie’s neck.

Fuck.

You really wish Steve and Robin hadn’t interrupted earlier.

“It’s not like I got it at a show,” Eddie shrugs, and you wonder for a moment if he’s lying, “They’ve gotten more popular lately. I’ve seen their shit in Target.”

“Exactly!” you exclaim a little too loudly, a little too quick to defend yourself, “Exactly. I just thought it looked cool at Target. Besides, tonight is about Argyle.”

You smile at the birthday boy, and he returns the joy as he waves a little at you. The reminder is all it takes for everyone’s attention to return to the focus of the night – everyone’s attention but Nancy’s.

You can feel her eyes on you as conversation sparks up and debates of ordering shots begin. Everyone is busy asking Argyle what his plans for next weekend are – which are mostly composed of normal family gatherings, probably a homemade cake, etc. – but Nancy is watching you and Eddie like a hawk. In the peripheral of your eye, you watch the way she leans back so casually into Jonathan's around her shoulder, looking like she knows. You’re probably just being paranoid. You’re definitely just being paranoid.

You try to ignore it, and instead let yourself just enjoy the moment. All your friends gathered, a group in which you finally feel like you belong to, jokes being made and laughter being exchanged that has you feeling a bit giddy. It’s nice. Even between the smoke of the room and the flickering lights overhead, murmuring chatter of nearby patrons mingling right in with your group’s noise, it’s homely. The smell of drunken cigars and fruity cocktails should be overwhelming, but you just let it wrap you up instead.

And when you turn your head, inhaling deeply the smell of cinnamon and musk rather than all those other foreign anomalies, you find Eddie already looking at you. Soft eyes, bitten grin, a few loose curls framing his cheeks as his bangs curl up into his forehead. Even in the shoddy lighting, he takes your breath away.

He’s looking at you. Just like that first night. Dozens of other people in this room at this moment, and he only has eyes for one – he only has eyes for you.

“So!” Argyle announces, “I think, my dudes, instead of doing what Birdie had so… excitedly suggested,” and oh, he was being generous and calling Robin suggesting he took twenty three shots for his twenty third birthday just her being excited rather than foolish, “We should just take the twenty three shots and split them up amongst the group.”

Steve and Jonathan immediately groan, protesting how they’re driving, and Eddie only shakes his head with a chuckle. So far, he’d only ordered and been nursing on a plain coke, no whiskey.

Somehow, sitting beside him with the group is worse than keeping distance.

When he’d taken off his jacket, you’d silently begged for him to rest an arm across the back of your chair just as Jonathan was doing to Nancy. And he had, almost too naturally before he’d caught himself. It would have been easier to play off cooly, probably would have gone unnoticed, but your boy had practically jumped out of his bones as he’d flinched and tucked his arm back into himself suddenly. He’d even bumped his elbow against his own seat in his haste.

And Nancy had noticed.

“That’s only three shots per person!” Argyle defends, “Four for me, since you know – birthday boy.”

While Eddie may be avoiding alcohol tonight, you aren’t. Not unusual, but it had been odd when Eddie had told the waitress your order of an amaretto sour rather than you telling her yourself.

Another strike. Another thing Nancy had noticed with her watchful eye.

“I’m down,” you shrug, “Hell, I’ll even take an extra shot if those two dumbasses won’t.”

“Is that a good idea?”

You wish Eddie had been drinking to excuse his idiocracy. Because all it takes is him saying that, not with malice but with concern, and the look on Nancy’s face told you she was officially catching on.

He hadn’t said it with the concern of a friend prepared to warn against drinking yourself sick. He’d said it with the concern of someone who would be taking care of you by the end of the night, of someone who would be dealing with the aftermath of that many shots.

You two were bombing this whole secrecy, to put it lightly.

You try to save the moment but laughing it off, turning to him slightly and teasing, “What, are you my keeper now?”

Despite your best efforts, the statement doesn’t come across as friendly banter. It’s not quite fighting either. It’s a dare, you dangling something in Eddie’s face that no one else at this table quite sees. A stupid, idiotic continuation of your flirtatious game of cat and mouse from earlier in the apartment, when he’d deliberately gotten you hot and bothered. When he’d deliberately let you leave in his shirt. His palm is warm when he shifts ever so slightly, placing it on your thigh beneath the table. Out of sight from everyone else. Fueling and fanning all your growing flames.

You two were toeing a very dangerous line tonight.

His eyes darken a bit, and you pray no one else notices in the dim bar lighting, “I don’t know, am I?”

Everyone is distracted enough with your idea. Steve and Jonathan were agreeing, saying they could take one shot and then others in the group could shoulder the extras. Robin was quick to also say she’ll take an extra one. But Nancy is silent, watching your quiet exchange with Eddie.

“I don’t think you are, Munson.”

Except he is. Without a single doubt in your bones, you know that he is.

Your playful smile betrays you. It tugs up the corners of your mouth and it’s clear to any outsider this wasn’t a brewing argument. The game was obvious if anyone was watching close enough. And Nancy, ever the smart one, was watching close enough.

She’s playing her cards right, you realize, when she waits until the group has ordered the round of shots to say anything.

“So, Eddie,” she begins, drawing the entire group’s attention to her best friend, “Do anything fun today?”

He nearly chokes on his coke subtly. “I- Um-”

“You just didn’t answer any of my texts today,” she continues on, “Must have been busy, yeah?”

Eddie retracts his hand from your thigh, far more elusive in this action than he had been about removing his arm from your chair, before he fiddles with his hands in his lap. “Yeah – no, yeah. Sorry about that, Nance.”

He pulls his phone from his pocket for no apparent reason. The shiny new smartphone, having not even bought a case or screen protector yet. You’d already yelled at him for that, claiming out of everyone, you trust him the least to not break the phone on the first day. He’d only laughed and shut you up with a kiss.

His new phone is placed face down on the table, cherry red glinting, “I just had to go to the mall and-”

“Is that a new phone?” Argyle interrupts him, catching sight of the movement and the glinting, “Oh, holy shit, my dude! That’s a new phone! That is an iPhone if I’ve ever seen one!”

Everyone – Robin, Steve, Jonathan – are rapidly leaning to catch sight of it as if they can’t believe it. Eddie continues to shrink at being the center of attention suddenly.

“It is,” Steve laughs in disbelief, “Never thought I’d see the day, Munson.”

Robin scrunches her face, “Does this mean we have to add him to the group chat?”

You let out a giggle at that, lips pressed to try and contain some of that smile breaking through as you look at him and wiggle your brows. He immediately rolls his eyes, but picks up the phone regardless to give everyone a better look.

“Yes, yes. I’ve finally joined the dark side,” he teases everyone just as the waitress returns with the tray of shots. Jonathan is the only one with enough sense to look away from Eddie’s spectacle, thanking her kindly, “Feast your eyes, my friends, for this is where my five hundred dollars went-”

“Holy shit.”

Nancy’s sudden whisper of an exclamation has everyone freezing. Eddie stops spinning and flipping the phone to show it off, staring at her with nothing but concerned, “What? What happen-”

Nancy shares a look with Robin as they both grin.

Oh no.

“Eddie,” Nancy says slowly, turning her head back his way slowly.

“What?” Eddie frowns, eyes flitting back and forth between Nancy and Robin.

Robin is the one to ask the question rather than Nancy, “What exactly is your lockscreen?”

Eddie goes pale. You’re confused, looking at the phone he’s currently cradling with the screen against his palm.

Did he even change it? Wouldn’t it just be one of the default ones?

“Guys,” you decide to come to his rescue, still impossibly confused, “It’s probably just some default screen, don’t tease him.”

“That was not a default screen,” Nancy laughs out.

Argyle looks around at everyone. Nancy and Robin, both with mischievous glints in their eyes. Eddie, still ghostly white as if he’s been caught red-handed. Steve and Jonathan, both just shrugging at each other. “Uh…. Why do I feel like I’m missing something here?”

“Show the class your lock screen, Eds.”

“Fuck off, Nancy.”

“Oh my God,” Robin coos, leaning across Steve and pressing you back gently to catch sight of Eddie, who’s dipping his face down, “He’s blushing!”

“Guys, leave him alone,” Steve insists, sharing a look with you now. But you have no clue what’s going on.

You have no clue what his lockscreen is.

“Edward Munson, show us that lockscreen right now, or I’m Venmo-requesting five hundred dollars from you,” Robin continues to threaten.

You look away from Steve and at Eddie immediately, leaning in closer to his space. He looks at you, clearly focusing on your presence more than everyone else’s, and smiles like a child trying to get out of trouble.

“Eddie,” you say quietly, almost impossible for your friends to hear, “What the fuck is your lockscreen?”

He slowly and carefully turns the screen towards you, making sure only your eyes can see it, and- oh.

It’s a low quality photo. Clearly taken on his flip phone. Details just a little fuzzy, and the darkness of the photo wasn’t helping. But you can see it clearly. You can make out exactly what it was that had Nancy and Robin losing their minds.

It’s a picture of you and Eddie, with your head on Eddie’s chest.

For a moment, everyone else at the table doesn’t exist. You hadn’t been insane that night – he had taken a photo. A snapshot of the moment where everything had changed. The moment in which you had given up the fight and completely succumbed to just how much Eddie meant to you, how badly you pined for him and how deeply you liked him.

“I was going to make it the one of you at Betty’s,” he whispers, “But, I just- I really liked this photo.”

He’s still tense, as if he expects you to be upset with him.

You’re the farthest thing from upset at him.

“You made me your lockscreen?” you breathe out, a slow-growing smile beginning to stretch your lips.

You’re not upset at him. As a matter of fact, you’re in love with him. You want to scream it from every rooftop, shout it to every stranger on the street – you are in love with Eddie Munson.

And you have been for a while. You just hadn’t found a way to tell him yet.

“Yeah,” he loosens up a little when he realizes you’re happy, enamored with the fact, “Yeah, of course I did. Who else am I going to make it besides my favorite…. Enemy?”

He says it loud enough for everyone to hear clearly. All of Nancy’s teasing has come to a halt, Robin has settled back into her chair, and Steve is finally looking too curious for his own good.

“As birthday boy,” Argyle breaks the moment, shatters away the bubble you and Eddie always seemed to end up in, “I am demanding I get to see this lockscreen.”

Eddie doesn’t make any move to show the screen to any other person, only watching you for approval.

Well, so much for next time.

You give him a little nod.

Eddie makes a dramatic show of it, sighing heavily before he very slowly turns his lockscreen to face everyone else. But even in his dramatics, you can see that weight lifting off his chest.

This, as a matter of fact, changes everything.

No more hiding, no more lying. One simple flash of his phone screen, of a photo he had taken on a night that no one has even been gifted the details of yet, and all your friends suddenly know.

The reactions all vary.

Argyle leans forward and squints before his face breaks out into pure joy for the two of you, “Oh, fuck yes! Best birthday gift ever. Pay up, my dudes!”

Jonathan leans backward, digging out his wallet as he murmurs, “Son of a bitch.”

Steve only smiles and shakes his head, also digging for his wallet as he seemingly chastizes himself, “I should have fucking known.”

“Hold on,” you look between everyone as Jonathan digs out a couple twenties, “Wait, did you guys fucking bet on this?”

“We did,” Robin answers you, holding up a hand to make Jonathan and Steve pause their retrieval of cash, “What do you take us for? Idiots? Now, gentlemen, before either of you payout, we’ve gotta ask the most important question,” she shoves a palm against Steve’s chest so that he’s out of line of sight, gaze set on you and Eddie, “When did this happen?”

You don’t have any time to be mad at your friends. Because when Robin asks you this, suddenly you’re back to two months ago. You’re outside your dorm with Eddie, kissing him as if tomorrow would never be promised, and you’re home.

You pulled back from Eddie finally, both of you gasping for breath as he held you steady. Your exchange from moments before still hung heavy in the air.

You liked him, you liked him, you liked him.

And the feeling was mutual.

You’d already known, but it was nice to hear. It was nice to be reminded that this, what had happened between you two, was so very real.

“I don’t wanna start over,” the words tumbled from your tongue before you could consider them, upheaving from your chest, desperate for Eddie to heard them, “I- I don’t need to start over. I like our story, okay? You had been right – it wasn’t all bad, and… and I don’t want to start over. I never want you to be a stranger again, and I know that sounds stupid-”

“It’s not stupid,” he interrupted you, forehead meeting yours, “So very not stupid.”

“I don’t care if you were a dick,” you continued on, carefully, “I was, too. We were both… shitty. I forgive you. I’ll forgive you a thousand times over, as long as you keep trying to make it up to me.”

“Make it up to you?” he grinned playfully, “And just how do you suggest I start making it up to you?”

“Ask me out,” his eyebrows raised in surprise, and you knew you must have looked like a wild idiot to everyone else, but you didn’t care, “To dinner, to a movie, to just hang around your apartment with you for another twenty four hours – I don’t care. Just… Just please, Munson, ask me out.”

And so he had. A first date, a second date, a third. You two had gone through the entire ordeal of every cliche relationship despite the unconventional beginning. You’d gone to dinner, you’d gone to a movie, and you had done plenty of hanging out around his apartment and more.

“The night of the bet,” Eddie answers as he finally brings an arm up around your shoulders, just as he had wanted to earlier.

Immediately, both Robin and Argyle let out their own curses, pulling out their wallets just as Steve and Jonathan had.

You look between them, all the annoyance you should feel just being run over with adoration for these idiots. Your eyes land on Nancy, and when you realize she’s the only one at the table not coughing up any cash, you ask her, “I’m assuming you guessed correctly?”

“I did,” she nods, looking proud of herself.

“How’d you know?”

Nancy raises a threatening finger, before suddenly pointing it right in Eddie’s direction, “That idiot has always been down bad for you-”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie stops her, “I’ve already told her the nitty gritty details. No need to embarrass me.”

“No need to embarrass you?” Nancy asks in disbelief, “Good God, just how many times did I have to sit and listen to you pine for her? No, no – I have earned this, Munson.”

You look at Eddie, a glint in your eye, “You only told me about the first time.”

“I only remembered the first time,” he counters, blushing under yellow and faded lights, “I was usually dru-”

“Don’t lie,” Nancy stops him, “There were plenty of rants where you were dead sober.”

Everyone only smiles at Eddie, a few teasing comments made his way, but none of them matter as you lean into his side, your shoulder bumping his to the best of your ability with his arm still around you.

“Aw, babe,” you coo, warm all over for the man beside you, “You had a crush on me? That’s cute.”

His chin lowers, eyes boring into yours with unlimited affection. For a moment, it’s just you and Eddie. The guise of you two having your own bubble of a moment.

His head tilts further, his ears brushing your ear as he whispers for just you to hear, “So did you, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Not mistaken,” you whisper back. Money is now being exchanged, tossed across the table with grumbles that hold no heat.

Yeah, you did have a crush on Eddie. You still do. You don’t think you’ll ever stop having a crush on him, even as he’s surrendered himself as yours. Especially not when his thumb is stroking your shoulder as it is now.

Just like that very first night. The smoky bar fades to nothingness, your tunnel vision focused on Eddie. You know jokes are being made about the two of you by your friends, but it’s all white noise when he’s looking at you like this. Like you’re everything to him, like he’s just returned home after a long week.

You’d really like to be his home to return to after every long week, for the rest of your lives, but there’ll be time to ponder on that later. For now, you two have time.

The voice inside your head suddenly comes to life as it recognizes that this is your moment. You can tell him. Now that you’ve told everyone else, you can tell him those three words. Finally get them off your chest. Make it real.

“Hey, Munson,” you say, still quiet enough for the words to only reach his ears. He perks up, eager to drink your next words. You have all his attention. You always have all his attention, “I-” and then you choke. He stares curiously for a few seconds, and the words just won’t come out. You want to scream – you wonder if it would work if you screeched the three words at the top of your lungs. Probably not, “I’m just really glad you didn’t really hate me,” a pathetic excuse at a coverup, “And… I’m really glad they made that first bet.”

He smiles so softly, it strikes you right in the center of your chest. Right amongst your garden that not only had you tended for him, but that he had also had a hand in watering these last few months.

You should have told him. You love him, and you should have told him.

“I’m really glad I didn’t hate you, too,” he remarks, squeezing your shoulder a little tighter, “Actually, I’m glad you don’t hate me. Not anymore, at least.”

“I never really did.”

“You definitely sort of did. You tried to take me out with a glass, remember?”

You burst into secluded laughter, hearing your friends beginning to pass around the shots but paying them no mind.

Eddie can’t help it. He pulls you in close, placing an impulsive kiss to your temple and letting his lips linger there. Just pressed against you, breathing in the scent of you.

That kiss sends shivers down your spine, warmth through the center of your bones. You love him.

You love him, you love him, you love him.

So why can’t you just tell him that?

“Aw!” Robin pulls the two out of your bubble, “Aren’t they just adorable?”

“Yes, yes,” Steve passes two shot glasses down to your end of the table, “Absolutely adorable. It’s nauseating. Also, I’d like to go on record – I totally knew the entire time. I was just giving them the benefit of the doubt.”

“Playing the Devil’s advocate?” Argyle asks, lining up his multiple shots, “I dig it. Even though you’re totally lying right now.”

“You’re so lucky it’s your birthday, dude,” Steve rolls his eyes, clearly holding back an insult.

Eddie’s arm stays heavy on you, a welcome weight as you sit up straighter to take your own several shots.

These were your friends. Somewhere you belonged, filled with people you loved and a boy you could come home to after all your long weeks. A certain happiness that is rare, and impossible to place, and can nearly bring you to tears overwhelms you as you grab that first shot.

“Also-” Steve turns to you and Eddie, “I knew that was Munson’s shirt. The day he got it, all he did was brag about what a rare find it was. Fuck off with your Target bullshit.”

Eddie’s hand leaves your shoulder long enough to reach out and thump Steve, laughter booming and vibrating against you, “Sure you did, Stevie.”

“Target has some nice things,” Nancy offers with a shrug, now holding her own shot glass.

The seven of you all hold up the first of what will probably be too many shots tonight, the beginning of a night that will probably be remembered through killer hangovers tomorrow and possibly even captured on camera by the likes of Jonathan, Steve, and Eddie.

“To Argyle,” you take the lead on the cheers, jittery and anxious as all the love you continue to withhold buzzes in your chest, lifting your small glass in his direction, “The most lovable twenty three year old I know.”

Everyone moves to drink, but Argyle immediately shakes his head, “Nah, fuck that. It’s not even my birthday yet – I demand a new toast.”

He lifts his brows, staring you down and silently adding, you know what to do.

And yeah, you did know what to do.

“Fine,” you sigh dramatically, leaning further forward, Eddie’s arm following. You relish in the tense silence as everyone waits for what you’re about to say instead. Even Eddie is waiting with bated breath, watching your every move, a contrasting yet easy smile on his face, “To bets.”

A booming applause from your group. Glasses tapping against the wooden table before shots are downed. Groans of disgust as the tequila hits everyones’ tongues.

Eddie hardly waits before you’ve both swallowed to remove his arm and grab your face, turning your cheek so that his lips can capture yours. Everyone only cheers louder, Steve letting out an obnoxious whistle as Argyle claps. You’re surely going to get kicked out of the bar at this rate. But you really don’t care as you kiss your boy back.

Next time. You have to tell him next time.

—

The night ends in more of a whisper than a bang, surprisingly.

Everyone has suddenly become a happy drunk, probably from all the love and good news passed around throughout the night. It’s all warm feelings and warm hugs, tequila on the breath and love on the mind.

You don’t even get kicked out of the bar. Your waitress only smiles at your rowdy table from time to time, and you figure that all the good vibes must be rubbing off on her.

Steve is the first to call it quits. Robin has drank enough to give herself the hiccups, and he says that after that, she almost always gets viciously nauseous. He wants to get in the car and home before she gets to the point, for the sake of his car’s interior not getting covered in puke.

It’s a domino effect from there.

Argyle quickly agrees, Jonathan offers a guiding arm to Nancy, and Eddie’s arm only tightens around you. The group closes out the tab, putting off worries of everyone paying Jonathan back until tomorrow. Quick, simple, painless.

Until you all get outside. And goodbyes are exchanged – that’s not the part that gets to you – with promises of seeing each other throughout the week. Everyone congratulates you and Eddie one more time for good measure, Nancy and Steve looking the most proud of you two as Argyle and Robin giggle like children about it. And it’s fine – you laugh along and it’s all good. You let them get in all their I told you so’s and know it’s all in good fun.

It’s all fine. Until you two branch off from the group, Eddie’s bike across the lot from everyone else’s cars.

The moment you two are alone, you can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or if it’s the levity of suddenly having a moment that only belongs to you. Your mind wastes no time of reminding you of your pathetic cop out: I’m just really glad you didn’t really hate me. None of those words even sound akin to the real ones you should have said.

I love you.

It’s not because your friends have found out. You know it’s not that, because just last week, right after your breakdown about whether you were smothering Eddie by half-living in his apartment, you’d had a breakdown because you realized you wanted to fully live in his apartment. You’d had a breakdown because you hadn’t grown tired of him yet, hadn’t satisfied the need to see his face every morning when you first wake up yet. You hadn’t gotten bored with all his lingering affectionate touches. You hadn’t gotten used to the way he’d kiss you in the middle of sentences. He was still taking your breath away, two months later, and you had a breakdown because you realized it wasn’t novelty or a pathetic crush making you feel this way.

You had a breakdown because you love Eddie.

You love him, ardently so, and you still can’t find the right moment to say those words to him. He deserves to know – the entire foundation of this relationship was honesty.

It’s all you can think about as his hand finds yours and he’s walking up to his bike, practically dragging you up to his bike as your legs forget how to work amongst nerves.

“So, I was thinking,” he carries on conversation so casually, “You want to spend the night at my place? I know you said you don’t have any class-“

Now. Not later, not next time. Now.

“Hey, Eddie?” you interrupt him, stopping the two of you a few paces away from his bike.

His face is impossibly concerned as he looks down at you, clearly reading the worry on your face, “What’s up, babe?”

Here goes nothing – be brave.

“I-”

Why is this so hard?

It shouldn’t be this hard, because loving Eddie is easy.

It’s easy when he’s looking at you like this, like he always does. It’s easy when he wakes up after you, and he comes into the kitchen to just wrap himself around you as you make him coffee, no matter what time of day it might be. It’s easy when he catches your eye from across the room during outings, sometimes winking once he knows you’ve found his gaze, just to see you laugh. It’s easy when he tries to distract you from homework when you’ve been spending far too many hours hunched over your laptop on his couch, coming and bugging you, laying his head on your lap and insisting his girl needs a break. It’s easy when he kisses you and everything just feels right.

It’s easy. He loves you – you love him. It isn’t hard. You’re making this hard, when it never was.

“I love you,” you admit quietly, voice shaking as the words leave you easily.

Loving Eddie is easy.

“I love you,” you say more surely, voice raising in volume as you find the willpower to look into his eyes, “I love you so fucking much, Eddie.”

Each time you say it, you gain confidence in it. It’s true – you love him. You love him so much, it encompasses every inch of your being. It entirely consumes you. You love him.

His face falls slowly, mouth agape and eyes boring into yours.

You don’t wait for his response. You already have it – in the way he’s still holding your hand, in the way he holds you at the end of each night, in the way he knows both your orders at bars and coffee shops. In the way he will always put himself between you and the street when walking down the sidewalk, in the way when he roughly stops his bike at stop lights that his hand always flies back to hold onto you. In every soft touch and every expression of devotion he has offered you for not just two months, but for over a year.

“You love me?” he softly asks, finally beginning to come back to life.

You nod without hesitation, “I love you, Eddie.”

Now that you’ve started saying it, you can’t stop it. And each time, it’s still heavy and sweet like honey, even as the confession comes as easy as breathing. It’s pouring from every crevice, filling up the night air around you.

He takes you off guard with a harsh kiss. His teeth colliding with yours, his breath stealing yours, his entire being molded with yours.

“Say it again,” he begs in a murmur as he pulls you in even closer, desperate as you break into a smile, “God, please say it again, sweetheart.”

“I love you,” your cheeks begin to ache, the kiss no longer even to be a considered a kiss as you two are just mindlessly pressing your smiles together, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” with each repeat of the sentiment, Eddie drinks it in, “I’m so fucking in love with you, Eddie Munson. You and your stupid lockscreen and-”

“You do not think my lockscreen is stupid,” he pulls away, raising his eyebrows as his palms squish your cheeks, “I saw the way you looked at me. You were eating that shit up.”

You bite your lip, trying to pull further away from him, but he won’t let you, “I was not-”

“You were,” he cheekily teases, eyes bright as he looks at you, “You were, and it was the best thing ever. Totally worth stealing Argyle’s spotlight.”

“We didn’t steal Argyle’s spotlight,” you try to defend yourself.

“We so did.”

You shake your head to the best of your abilities, face still between his hands, “We… Okay, we sort of did.”

He grins like a young boy, all his youth and all his love on show for you as he leans down, pausing right before pressing another kiss to your lips, “We definitely did. And it’s fair, because they fucking bet on us.”

“They did,” you agree, not even feeling guilty anymore, too consumed by the love for the man right in front of you, “They tend to do that a lot, don’t they?”

“They do.”

He finally surges forward, lips sealing against yours one last time. It’s less messy this time, more meaningful. A bit more patient as he takes the time to fit his lips into yours, just as they should be.

You have an audience. You’re completely oblivious until you hear the cheering from across the parking lot, snapping apart to both glance at where Argyle and Robin are jumping up and down, screaming their heads off.

“Hell yeah, my dudes!” Argyle’s voice booms as Robin only produces incoherent coos to echo.

Nancy, Steve, and Jonathan are all just watching silently, shaking their heads, but you can also see their grins. Almost as radiant as you felt.

Steve finally cups his hands around his mouth, sending his voice to you over Argyle’s continuing whooping, “Get a room!”

Perfectly in sync, you and Eddie both throw up a hand with your middle fingers raised in their direction, still half tangled in each other.

Your eyes find Nancy. She’s looking at you two with overwhelming pride, a certain satisfaction that breathes out the relief of finally. This may be a weight off not only your chest but Eddie’s as well, yet you can’t help but imagine just how she feels. How many nights she had stomached Eddie’s rambles about you leading up to this very moment. The pay off must be unimaginable.

Finally.

“Congrats on finally getting the girl, Munson!” she calls out, but her eyes are on you, winking.

You see it now. Why they’re best friends. How all her best parts and Eddie’s best parts overlap and compliment one another perfectly.

Jonathan is the final one to yell across the parking lot at you two, one arm slung around Nancy as the other moves to unlock his car, even his usually grumpy face showing signs of elation in that timid smile, “Now take your girl, home, dude. Spare the rest of us the gory details.”

Eddie’s laugh reverberates against you physically from how he holds you, also making its way to burrow deep within your chest where all that liquid bliss belongs, as he throws his entire head back and makes you finally focus on just him again. Home. Not just his apartment, but him. You realize now that it’s simply wherever he goes. Where he leads, you’ll follow. It could be a shitty dorm room with a mattress that leaves your back aching, it could be a comforting apartment that holds you ‘hostage’ for twenty four hours straight – it doesn’t really matter. Wherever he is, home is. He’s your home; you love him, he knows you love him, and he’s your home.

When his laughter finally fades, and he’s looking at you again, his dimples are prominent as ever through his whisper, “Just in case you’ve forgotten – I’m very much in love with you, too, sweetheart.”

His lips meet yours for good measure.

It’s been the longest week of your life, the longest year, but you’re finally home.

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#twenty four hours #eddie munson #my writing #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #i cannot believe it's over holy shit #holy fucking shit #told y'all the photo would make a reappearance!#im resisting the urge to be so so sappy jesus christ

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multifandomgirl08 · 8 months

Text

Day At The Karting Track [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: Nico starts karting. It opens a small can of worms.

Warning(s): Flashback, Mixed Media (Story + Social Media)

Words: 2k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

Nico had been bouncing around all morning excited for his first karting race. It had been the highlight of his week after flying to Austria to watch Max race after Nico’s last day of daycare before the summer holiday started.

Although Max was excited for Nico, you also knew that he was nervous.

Nico had taken to sitting in the Kart that was gifted to him for his last birthday whenever he could, waiting for the day until he was able to drive on a karting track. The helmet that Nico wore was a replica of one of Max’s old ones. You had taken photos of Nico in his fireproofs after he had eaten breakfast, his racesuit hanging off his waist, the sleeves just barely touching the hardwood floor. He stood proudly against the wall in the entryway of the apartment, with his helmet under his arm. Looking every bit his father’s son.

Max was silent in the kitchen drinking his Red Bull while you packed up your bag with Nico’s little gloves and a pair of sneakers for him to change into for after.

Max hadn’t said much all morning, you had made breakfast for yourself and Nico while Max sat with you both. Nico had so many questions for Max.

“How long does the race last? How many other people are going to be there? Will I be just like you Papa?” Nico had asked one after another in between bites of his food.

Max had answered as many of Nico’s questions as he could, but he had kept his answers short. Although Max loved that Nico loved F1 as much as he did, he wasn’t sure if he wanted Nico to end up driving in motorsports at all.

It was a combination of things; it was hard, it was expensive (both you and Max could afford it), and Max wasn’t sure if he would be the best person to be Nico’s coach. It wasn’t just because Max was away most weekends.

“I don’t want him karting.” Max had said to you late one night after Nico had gone to bed.

“Max, isn’t that his choice to make?” You asked as you lay with him on the couch in the living room.

“No, because… I’m the one who’s going to have to coach him. I’m the one who’s going to have to tell him when he isn’t doing something right. I’m going to have to do things like…” Max didn’t have to finish his sentence for you to know what he was going to say.

Max’s “father”, if you could even call him that, was a constant source of stress for Max when it came to raising Nico. From the media which you now knew how to handle, to dealing with the pressure of Jos Verstappen hanging over his head. It was a constant, never-ending battle for him.

Max wasn’t looking at you as his head was resting in your lap staring up at the ceiling.

“You don’t have to.” In reality, you didn’t know the intricacies of how Karting worked, and when it really started to matter if Nico took it seriously. Nico had been 3 and ½ when he had asked you and Max if he could try, and by the time he would turn four he already had all of the needed equipment sitting in the garage of the apartment building ready to be used.

“Yes, I do. Most kids have a coach by the time that they’re 6, and they start competing at the age of 8.” As Max started telling you about the facts, it made it more difficult for you to not think about Nico. He was a kid, he shouldn’t have to think about if he wanted to pursue this so young. “If he starts later, he won’t have a leg up on the kids who have been doing it as long. Starting him young will prepare him for-”

Max cut himself off before burying his head into your thigh. “UHHH!” He yelled in frustration. “This is exactly why I don’t want him karting. I sound like my father when I was Nico’s age.”

It had taken two more months and having Sophie over for dinner to put Max’s mind at ease with Nico karting. You were sitting at the dinner table with Sophie who had helped you cook. Max had his hand in yours gripping it tightly when you had brought it up.

“I know you're concerned about him pursuing this. When you started living with Jos, and he started teaching you about karting I didn’t want to let you go. I didn’t want you to be raised by him like you were. I wanted to protect you, like any parent would. Like you want to for Nico, but I also understood that I had to let you go. I knew one day that I would get to spend as much time with you as I wanted, I just had to wait.” She said before taking a sip from her glass that was on the table.

Both you and Max had glanced over at Nico who was sitting on the carpet in front of the TV with one of his books open. He was turning the pages, looking at the pictures of the characters on the page before Sassy made her way over, pressing herself into Nico’s space. He let out a happy squeal as the cat nuzzled herself under his chin.

“I know that you are concerned about turning out like him. But you’ve already shown your son more compassion as a parent than your father ever did when you were growing up.”

Sophie had walked over and kissed Max on the forehead as if he was still a child before looking over at you and giving you a smile that you read as a silent Thank you. You just nodded before offering to clear the table. Max was quick to get up from his seat and move all of the plates into the kitchen while you and Sophie chatted between the two of you about Nico and yours and Max’s plans for the mid-season break.

Once you got to the track Nico undid his car seat before Max had put the car in park. He had jumped out of the car as soon as he could. Max had gone to chase after Nico while you went over to handle the forms you would need to fill out for him.

You quickly spoke to the woman behind the counter after paying the deposit for the day, and with the receipt, she started to collect a small stack of papers.

“You’re going to need to fill out a waiver today before the race starts.” The woman said. She gave you a clipboard and a pen for you to start filling out the information about Nico.

As you looked over it, you added in all of Nico’s info, like his name, date of birth, and then your eyes fell on the emergency information. Adding in Max’s was easy.

Parent 1

Name: Max Verstappen Relationship to Child: Father

Address: **, ****** ********** ********* Monaco, La Condamine, 98000 Monaco

Phone Number: +33 00*******

You saw the words Parent 2 printed on the paper.

As you stared at the paper you were quick to write down your name. You kept tapping the pen over where it said Relationship to Child. You quickly scribbled down Step-Mother without giving it another thought before copying the address and adding in your own phone number.

It wasn’t that you and Max had never had those conversations about the future. You knew that your relationship was long term and you knew that Max saw a future with you but you had never really talked about how that would affect Nico. Would you be his mother if things seemed to keep progressing the way that they had? Would you be his step-mother if Max ended up proposing?

You pushed the thought from your mind filling out the rest of the papers before you saw Max and Nico come back. You give the papers over to Max so he could sign where his signature was needed. You saw Max turn the pages back over, look at the first page, and then cross something out before handing the papers back to the woman behind the counter.

“Everything looks to be in order.” The woman said giving both you and Max a smile. “The race starts in about 30 minutes. You can have your son set up his things over there.” She pointed to a small set of tables where the parents were sitting strapping their children’s helmets on.

You and Max had helped Nico put on his gloves and his helmet before taking his kart over to where the start line was. The other kids were standing with their parents, some of them looking over at Max knowing exactly who he was. None of the parents had come up to Max to ask for pictures or anything like that but you knew it would probably happen when you were going to be leaving.

Nico sat down in his kart, moving around a little in the seat before you kissed Nico on top of his helmet and Max gave him a fist bump and a nod with a smile. You and Max walked back behind the gate to watch as the boys and a smaller group of girls raced around the track for the allocated time.

You had quickly posted something to your Instagram of a photo you had gotten of Nico earlier on.

ynlnusername added to their story

Nico had ended up finishing the race in third. Max looked at you after it was over, probably blown away at Nico’s natural talent.

You had been at the track for another few hours, meeting and talking to some of the other parents. One of the little boys that Nico had raced against even had the courage to walk up to Max and ask for an autograph. Max at first said that he didn’t have a pen on him before you had pulled out a Sharpie from your bag. You had taken to carrying a few with you just in case.

Max had given you a look that told you everything that you needed to know. Afterward, you had packed up all of Nico’s things and put him in the car. You planned to give him a bath once you got back home. You found it astounding that he hadn’t fallen asleep on the drive back.

When you had gotten up to the apartment Max went with Nico into his bathroom and gave him a bath while you ordered an early dinner for the three of you. Nico ate his fill, and while you and Max had finished eating Nico went to watch some cartoons on the TV.

Eventually, Nico ended up on the couch asleep between you and Max. The sound of the TV gave off a light hum.

“So I wanted to know,” Max started to say after he put his phone down. “Why did you put step-mother on Nico’s emergency contact information earlier?”

You were a little taken aback by Max’s question.

“I mean,” He started again. “I know that we’ve talked about the future and wanting to eventually get married. Did you think that when I proposed you wouldn’t fully be Nico’s mother?”

You knew that in France, and other parts of Europe the process of “adopting” Nico would take some time especially given that you and Max weren’t married, heck you weren’t even engaged yet. Nico didn’t call you anything but Mimi or your name when he could manage to say it.

“I just didn’t want to assume Max.” Nico had a mother, a birth mother who had given him up, but she was still his mom. It was strange because you felt like Nico’s mother, you did everything that a normal mother would do for her son.

Max reached over to lay his hand over yours moving closer to look you in the eyes. You could see the turquoise of Max’s eyes swimming as if you were caught in the ocean. He moved his other hand up to cup your chin.

“You’re his mother Y/N, in every way.” Max leaned up placing his lips against your hair, pulling both you and Nico closer. “Never doubt that.” He muttered.

You nodded against Max’s shoulder before thinking, official papers be damned.

taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @maximeverstappen

#mini verstappen series #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #mv1 imagine #mv1 x reader #mv33 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine #max verstappen

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wandasfifthwife · 1 month

Text

(4) sweet thing | I got a bad idea series

—> masterlist

southern!wandanat x fem!city-girl reader

tw: fluff, hurt/comfort, light angst

a/n: not really proofread, sorry babes. it’s 3AM and I’m fucking tired and I have classes in a few hours—later I will—enjoy!!

It’s not abnormal for someone with a crush to confess. It’s how a majority of relationships start however the “confession” may go. Some are casual, extreme, dull; some don’t confess anything at all. You were between wanting to be honest and wanting to keep it hidden until it fades away.

It felt all too fast. You had begun to question if their actions last night were flirtatious. Your mind swaps each moment where you were held close to their chest as a part of the dance. Anytime they said something flirtatious, you told yourself it was them being friendly. You fall all too fast and this is just another time where you’ve fallen for the first person who’s shown care in you. You have nobody to blame but yourself.

Wanda stood beside you at the post office, the letter Natasha fretted about in her hands. The lights were a strange yellow, and not to mention hanging off of the ceiling. A few of the white squares tiled were cracked from heavy packages being dropped onto them. Neither of you thought it to be trashy, it felt like home if anything, with each break and crack remind you the backstory on how it happened.

You had driven back with your brother the night before, grinning as you daydreamed the whole car ride home. Anything anyone said to you that night, you responded with excitement. You carried your brother up the stairs, heaving him onto the couch downstairs and took to the guest room.

He still laid on the couch that morning when Wanda walked on your front porch. You however were awake, opening the door with a cheerful expression. That’s why you’re standing beside her now in the office.

“Hi there,” she says, sliding the envelope onto the counter, “I wanted to come and ask why we’ve been receiving the wrong mail?”

The old man behind the counter pulls out his glasses, “you’re not Miss Parson?”

“No, sir, I’m not.”

“Huh,” he grunts, “I’ll take it and ship it over. Might be a new mailman issue.”

She thanks him, pulling her purse back onto her shoulder. She pushes the door open, holding it until you walk out.

“It’s not a big deal” she starts, “I just dont want to deal with Natasha nagging anymore.”

“Does she worry over things often?”

“Natasha doesn’t have great control over her stress. She tends to react however she feels in the moment.”

“And you?”

She rests her hand on your seat, looking behind you as she backs the car out, “I just think some things aren’t worth so much stress.”

“Like the envelope,” you ask.

“Exactly like the envelope,” she laughs, removing her hands from the wheel to let it spin back, “are you doing anything else today?”

“I don’t believe so, why?”

“You could help me unload a shipment. Natasha had to leave early this morning for a meeting in town, so she won’t be back until late.”

You agree to help, “what kind of shipment is it?”

“Different types of feed. They were supposed to come a week ago, another thing Natasha’s been nagging me about.”

She parks the car, taking the keys out of the ignition before stepping down and out of the car. An old man stood nearby, bottom side hanging from how he was leaning over his car. Wanda mumbles to you as you walk over, “don’t worry about the remarks he may make, it’s just because he’s never been laid.”

You believed her. It was proven to be true a minute after he got out from the truck bed. His attention on you while Wanda talked to him was a signal he took interest in you. He opened his mouth and immediately Wanda was walking him in the opposite direction.

“Can you unload for me,” she calls out to you, “set it all back by the shed out in the back

You hear the old man make a remark to Wanda as you walk off with two bags in hand. It took four rounds until everything was set in the shed. The seasons were changing, grass turning yellow and tree leaves popping warm colors of red and orange. The wind was cold, but the sun and humidity still made a presence. Your arms tired after heaving thirty pounds for half an hour.

Wanda frowns seeing you, “oh sweetheart, would you like a drink?”

She brought you inside, her home more familiar after the frequent visits. You knew where her kitchen was, pulling a seat out to comfortably rest. She pours a cup, setting it on the table in front of you. You short-circuit when her fingers splay across the expanse of your back.

“Thank you,” she says, voice dropping, “I appreciate all the help. Natasha will be erratic once she’s back home and realizes she has two less things to worry over.”

You lean forward onto the table to hopefully signal you’d like her fingers to move wish ease across more skin. She does, moving to press her cold hand brushes against your neck. You sigh, dropping your head onto the table.

“Of course, I don’t mind.”

“How’re you feeling about going home soon.”

The reminder of your soon flight made your stomach drop. These moments would come to an end when you got the plane. You curse at yourself and shrug her hand away.

“Okay,” she begins, tone sharp, “what’s all this about?”

“What’s what?”

She sidesteps around your chair to face you, “this flaky attitude.”

“Oh really, flaky?”

“You’ve been hiding out since the first day you came back,” she rests her back against the counter, attention fixed on you, “why.”

“I’m asking, what do you mean by flaky?”

“You act like it’s more convenient to run rather than talking about it with us. You ran the night you got drunk, you avoided us after, and you’re about to do it again,” she sighs, “don’t you think that’s quite immature for your age?”

You tear up, teeth biting at your cheek to keep it at bay. She stays silent, patiently awaiting whatever reaction you’ll have. You’re avoiding her, focusing on picking at your nails.

“I like you.”

It’s lower than a whisper but she hears it.

“I enjoy being around you more than I should,” your voice wobbles, “and I don’t want it to turn into something real so that’s why I keep running. You make it all the more difficult when you continue to reach out.”

Her hands are on you again, holding your face as she leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. Your eyes are closed shut, eyelashes wet from crying. Small apologies tumble from your lips in the tense space.

“I’m so sorry, I’ve ruined everything.”

“You haven’t ruined anything,” she stops you, “I want to ask you to stay until Natasha gets back. Are you alright with that, angel?”

You nod and she mumbles an okay, stepping back from you to give you space to breathe. Time passes and your tears eventually dry, leaving small shiny marks on your face. You mention to Wanda that your heads begin to hurt and she’s quick to bring you simple pain meds.

You take them with the drink she poured earlier. She watches you until the sound of the front key hitting the front door has pulled her attention elsewhere. Natasha steps through the front door, setting down her bags. Her muffled greetings cutting short seeing you and your tear stained face.

“Everything alright?”

You’re scared and can feel it creeping up in your lungs, making it feel like you can’t fully breathe. Wanda leans in front, setting a hand on your thigh.

“Hey,” she shushes you with a smile, “you’re alright. I only wanted to wait until she got home so we can share our little secret with you too.”

“Oh cut it out already,” you wheeze, “it’s not funny.”

Natasha interrupts, “I’m very confused.”

Wanda ignores her wife continuing where she left off.

“We feel the same way, angel.”

Your heart jumps, the brokenness in it wishing to be healed, but you’re still unbelieving even after she’s just told you. All throughout the day you’ve believed the things she’s told you and now you’re doubting one sentence.

“What?”

“Ever since that night, seeing you again. We’ve been growing fond of you.”

Natasha’s caught on now. She’s found herself sitting at the table across from you. She looks exhausted with her hair a mess and eye bags prevalent.

“We can take it slow,” she adds on, “see how it feels tomorrow and decide from there.”

“But I’m leaving soon.”

“That’s fine. You’re holding the reins here, we’ll be okay what whatever you suggest.”

You smile, “tomorrow sounds nice.”

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celtic-crossbow · 17 days

Text

For You, I'd Bleed Myself Dry

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Early-ish Alexandria

Warnings: Suggestive (extremely mild); hangover

Summary: You're hung over and don't really remember how you got to Rosita's house the night before. Or what you had said on the way there.

A/N: Just a fun little drabble born of this incorrect quote. Suggested by @marvelcasey05

You didn’t expect to find Daryl still home when you wandered in the next morning. He was always an early riser, and though everyone else still slept, he would usually be long gone and outside the gates. So, when you tip-toed through the door and into the kitchen, your heels in your hand, he nearly scared the life out of you. You flipped the lightswitch and:

“Mornin’.”

“Jesus Christ, Daryl!”

The archer chuckled behind his coffee mug before tilting it the least bit more to take a sip. “Rollin’ in awful late.”

You shrugged “Or early, depending on how you look at it. Any left?” You nodded toward the cup. He gave a quiet mhm and got up to make you a mug. Your head was throbbing. You knew your makeup was a mess and your hair a disaster. You had slept in your dress at Rosita’s, so it was wrinkled and you were almost certain that it was only partially zipped in the back.The party hadn’t been that fun but the liquor had been flowing. That was why you went. Things in Alexandria had been stressful. Your group had been there a while. Long enough for so many problems to come along and be handled. The past week had been particularly eventful. Still, it had been handled and there had been some time to cut loose.

So, you did.

You sat your heels on the counter and muttered a thank you when he slid the mug across the surface, narrowing your eyes across the rim as you readied for a drink. “Do you know how I take my coffee?”

“Guess you’ll need to take a drink an’ find out, won’tcha?” He was perching himself back on the island stool when you realized that Daryl Dixon was barefoot, wearing flannel pajama pants, and a faded Led Zepplin t-shirt.

“You’re wearing people clothes.” You blinked, still holding the mug close to your mouth.

Daryl smirked from behind his own cup. “M’a person, contrary to popular belief.” He took another sip, prompting you to take one of your own. He did know how you liked your coffee. Interesting.

An ache in your left foot reminded you that you wanted nothing more than to go to your room and fall into a coma for a few hours. “I should probably take some—”

“S’behind ya. Got ‘em out earlier. Water too.”

There were two tablets on the countertop by the fridge, along with a glass of water. You warily picked them up, almost as if they would come alive and bite you. “Thank you?”

“Mhm.”

Quickly swallowing them, you downed the water because coffee wasn’t the best tool for rehydrating, but you’d be damned if you’d give up that mug for anything. Collecting your heels and your coffee, you started walking backwards out of the kitchen. “Listen, I’m gonna head upstairs and get off my—”

“Perfectly good chair right here.”

“What?” Now you were looking at him as if he’d grown a second head. There were no other chairs in the kitchen. Carol had the only other stool piled full of kitchen junk she had yet to put away. “Are you sure you’re awake?”

“M’wide awake. How’d ya get to Rosita’s last night?”

Wait. Was Daryl blushing? “She helped—” No, that wasn’t right. Rosita and Tara came back long after you did. You distinctly remembered grumbling at them to turn off the lights. “How did I get there?” You said aloud, though softly.

“I took ya.”

Your shoes hitting the floor echoed through the quiet house, causing both you and Daryl to flinch. After a moment, no baby cried and no adults yelled. You walked forward and placed your mug back on the counter. “What do you mean you took me? You weren’t at the party.”

Cause Daryl’s home. He doesn’t like parties.

He shrugged but the pink tint to his cheeks was now traveling a route up to his ears. “Was workin’ on the bike. Saw ya stumblin’ ‘round in the dark. Didn’t wantcha to get hurt.”

“Did I—did I say anything stupid?”

And if I see him right now, I'm gonna ask to use his face as a chair.

“Nope.” The archer was staring at his coffee cup, rolling the smooth sides between his hands. He absolutely knew what you had said but he was giving you an out. Goddamn that man. He had to be beautiful, rough edged, and chivalrous at the same time?

“Good.” You nodded. “Good. Thanks for the coffee.” You turned to walk out, leaving the coffee mug behind. “And for—you know, getting me there safely last night.”

He nodded with a small, tight smile but didn’t say anything else. Maybe he was just teasing you. No, Daryl wasn’t the type. Well, he was but not with things that were at his expense. He was definitely going out of his comfort zone if the red tint on his face was any indication. Did he want to do that with you? You certainly wouldn’t mind. You’d wanted Daryl for as long as you could remember. Even before he started treating the group more like friends than survival buddies. There was always just something about him that called to you, pulled you in like a magnet, but there was this invisible line that didn’t feel safe to cross. Was he toeing that line with you now?

You might never get the chance again if you were to shut him down.

“Hey, Daryl.” You called from the stairs, barely looking over your shoulder. Your heart was racing.

“Yeah?”

“There’s—there’s no chair in my—what’re you—hey!” You were over his shoulder and being hauled down toward his room in the basement before you could do much more than laugh.

“Weren’t no way ya could make any line ‘bout a chair work.”

“Got a bed, right?”

“Got a mattress.”

“That’ll do, Dixon. That’ll do.”

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

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danurso · 5 months

Text

NWN Challenge

*At a nice bar in Atlas*

Ruby: You’re still dealing with the fallout of that mess?

Blake: Of course. As the head of the white fang I can't just clean up a mess and ignore what caused it and who was affected by it…..*sigh* The last thing I want is people thinking we’re slipping back into what we used to be years back.

Yang: Good thing your pops is really good at de-escalating, well that and Weiss’ PR team.

Blake: Yeah. Where is her by the way? I wanted to thank her personally for all the help.

Ruby: She said she was coming, something came up during work.

Yang: Or someone. If Jaune went to visit she might be an hour or so late.

Blake: That. . . . . . probably isn't the case.

Yang: Why?

Blake: *nods* Because she doesn't look like she just had a good time.

The trio then turned to see a familiar heiress coming in, looking like she was about to murder someone.

Weiss: *sits down on the table*

Bartender: What will it be mi-

Weiss: Vodka. Pure. And make it a triple.

Yang: Yeesh. Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed today.

Ruby: What happened?

Blake: Who did you kill?

Weiss: He's not dead, the doctors said just broke a few bones.

R_BY: . . . . . . . .

Weiss: . . . .what?

Blake: . . . . .i was joking.

Weiss: Oh. . . .right. . . . .

Ruby: Wait, wait, you tried to kill someone!?

Weiss: I didn't! I just exaggerated a bit while dealing with a jerk.

Yang: What happened?

Weiss: . . . . .*sigh* I was venting to Winter about some private things about Jaune, as soon as she left an associate came in, he must've heard something about what we're talking, because as soon as we were done talking business he tried asking me out.

Yang: Doesn't everyone at the company know you just married?

Weiss: They do and he knew about it. But he insisted saying we could do something “fun” and that he could “Give me what i needed” since my husband wasn't doing so.

Ruby: Oh gods. . . . . .

Yang: Hah!

Blake: Like, I understand why that made you angry, but did you have to send the guy to the hospital?

Weiss: Not really, but i’ve been having a really stressful week and even after i said no multiple times, he kept pushing, and the moment he got too close i catapulted him out of the room with a glyph, though because of everything i miscalculated and sent him through a wall instead of the door.

Yang: *laughs* Please send me the video whenever you can! I wanna see that.

Ruby: Well, jerk aside, is everything okay? You sound like there's been stress even before that.

Bartender: Here miss. *Puts down her drink*

Weiss: Thanks.

Blake: Is everything okay at home? You said you were venting about Jaune, is everything okay between you two?

Weiss: No! The last three weeks been awful! HE has been awful!

Blake: Wait what?

Yang: Wow, That's a surprise.

Ruby: But why? What's wrong with Jaune?

Weiss: He’s been the worst! I keep having to deal with issues at the company! Cleaning the mess my father made! And then, after an awful day of work, what am I greeted with!?

Yang: A blown up house?

Blake: Another woman?

Ruby: Jaune wouldn't do that blake! Geez. . . . .Oh! Was it maybe a dead body?

Weiss: No! As soon as I come in he greets me with that stupid! Bright! And warm smile! He hugs me tight goes on about missing me soooo much! He covers me in kisses! Takes me in to show the warm bath he prepared for me! The house which is basically spotless and the dinner which was my favorite! Aaaarggh! Just thinking about it makes my blood boil! *Chugs the drink*

Ruby: . . . . . . . .

Yang: . . . . . . . .

Blake: . . . . . . . . . .that's it?

Weiss: Oh no. No no no, it gets worse. After dinner he brings me a whole cheesecake! Freshly made! And after we ate he took me to the living room and massaged every corner of my stressed body! I felt like I was melting! Oh gods the nerve of that man!!!

Yang: Wow, sounds like a nightmare.

Weiss: I know! Because it is!

Blake: *deadpan* Is it though?

Ruby: Err, Weiss? Are you sure there's a problem there? Because you make it sound like he's doing something bad but apparently he's been really sweet to you.

Weiss: I know! And it's unbearable!

Ruby: But why?

Weiss: BECAUSE IT'S NOVEMBER RUBY!!!

R_BY: Ohhhh. . . . .

Blake: He’s doing that dumb challenge too? I thought it was just Sun.

Ruby: *sigh* Nah, Oscar was doing it too.

Yang: Sounds like a headache. Lucky me and Arslan don't struggle with that stuff.

Blake: Yes, because she's not a guy, they tend to be incredibly stubborn about the stupidest things. Well, as stubborn as you can be with someone who knows all your weaknesses.

Ruby: Got him to give up?

Blake: Around a week in, would’ve been sooner if i wasn't busy with the fang. Oscar giving you trouble?

Ruby: Nope. He went for ten days straight, then he walked in on me coming out of the shower and he snapped. *Chuckles* I wasn't even trying to make him lose.

Weiss: *eyebrow twitching* Good to know I'm the only one suffering here.

Yang: Come on ice cream. You know that guy is basically addicted to you, if you give him a push in the right direction I'm pretty sure he’ll just crumble.

Weiss: And you think I haven't tried!? Skimpy swimsuits, Lingeries, Nudes throughout the day, dirty comments, cosplaying his favorite characters, offering to do the most questionable things! I used every last trick in the book and he STILL didn't cave in!

Yang: Oh, wow.

Blake: I knew he had a strong will but this is still surprising to hear.

Weiss: It's so frustrating! I get to come back home every day to the most wonderful husband in the world, who pampers and looks after me, doing everything I wish and making me the happiest woman in Remnant! And you tell me I can't ride him to oblivion after all that!? It's unfair!!! Utter Injustice!!! I wished I knew who came up with this challenge so I could strangle them until they're blue!!!

Yang: *chuckles* I can't tell if you're angrier at not getting laid for three weeks now or at him for not falling for your charms.

Weiss: BOTH!!!

Ruby: I mean, you said you tried everything but it doesn't sound like it.

Weiss: I did Ruby. I most certainly did! And wore basically anything you could imagine, I went as far as to wear things that, if images were leaked online, my life would be ruined and Blake would never talk to me again.

Yang: . . . . . . .you wore a-

Blake: *covers her mouth* Please don't, I’d rather our friendship still exist by the end of the night. For once in my life i do NOT wanna know.

Yang: *pushes her out* Wow. You really pulled all the stops.

Weiss: And it did nothing to him!!! *Depressed sigh*

Ruby: I mean, so far it sounds like all you did was dress up and act sexy to try and make him cave in.

Weiss: What else was I supposed to do!?

Ruby: Did you forget who you're married to? It's pretty easy to get him to bend and do what you want once you pin his weakness down.

Weiss: . . . . . .that sounded very wrong, especially being about my husband.

Ruby: What? I never abused that weakness mind you! He's my best friend, I could never!

Yang: Unless he has your favorite cookies.

Ruby: *pink* That's different!

Weiss: Spit it out already!

Ruby: *sigh* . . . . .fine. but he ever asks, you didn't learn this from me.

Weiss: *walks in* I’m home.

Jaune: *wearing pajamas* Hey, how was your night? *Hugs her* Everyone doing well?

Weiss: Yeah. *Kisses him* Everyone is doing well.

Jaune: I left some food for you in the microwave, wasn’t sure if you would eat out so i made something.

Weiss: It's fine, we got something to eat on the way back.

Jaune: I’ll pack it up for tomorrow then. *Walking to the kitchen* By the way, Whitley called. He said something about a guy you sent to the hospital. Is everything okay at work?

Weiss: Yeah, someone tried hitting on me earlier, and I accidentally used too much force to push him off when he tried to get too close.

Jaune: *storing the food* Ouch. Almost makes me feel bad for him. . . . .almost. *feels a pair of arms wrapping around his torso from behind.* . . . . . .Weiss?

Weiss: *inhale* . . . . . .*deep exhale*

Jaune: *serious* Weiss. . . . .that guy didn't hurt you, did he?

Weiss: *chuckles* Good to know my knight is still there to protect me if I ever need, I thought he ended up buried under my cute husband.

Jaune: Weiss-

Weiss: He did nothing, just a few sweet words which I already forgot. I just wanted to hug you.

Jaune: If you say so, then I believe you. What do you wanna do now?

Weiss: Bed. I’m tired, could you come with me though?

Jaune didn't answer, he only turned around and picked her up in his arms, making her chuckle in response, he took her to the bedroom and helped her out of her clothes and into her nightgown, and soon enough, they were both in bed cuddling.

Weiss: *Chuckling*

Jaune: What’s so funny?

Weiss: Nothing. I’m just happy.

Jaune: That's good to hear. You seemed a little stressed these last few days.

Weiss: Yeah. . . .but I'm fine now. In fact, I couldn't be happier.

Jaune: Really?

Weiss: Of course. *Hugs him closer* I’ve got a nice house, a good job, great friends and above all else *Looks up to him* the most wonderful husband in the world.

Jaune: *pink, scratching his cheek* Hehehe, I’m just doing what I can. It's not a big deal.

Weiss: It is for me. . . .for someone who grew up in a cold house, surrounded by people I couldn't trust, having someone that I can trust and love this much is everything.

Jaune: Weiss. . . . .

Weiss: You never ignore me, you always know when I'm not okay, you look after my every need, you go above and beyond to make me happy, and you know me even better than I do myself. I must've been a saint in a past life to be blessed with someone so wonderful as you are. I wanna stay like this and hold on to you for the rest of my life. *Angelic smile* Thank you for marrying me, my love.

Jaune: . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jaune: *naked on the bed and spooning her* God damnit. . . . .

Weiss: *sweaty and giggling*

Jaune: I can't believe I fell for that.

Weiss: Fell for what~? I was being honest, you know?

Jaune: I know! And that makes it even more of a dirty move!

Weiss: My heart bleeds for you.

Jaune: *groan* I was just a week away. I resisted everything you threw at me and this is how I lost?

Weiss: Yep. I thought there was no way out until a certain someone reminded me how weak you are to someone being genuinely emotional with you.

Jaune: It was Ruby wasn't it? Every time i have her favorite cookies she'll go on this emotional speech about how much it matters to her that i’m her best friend and all we went through, and when i realize i already gave her the cookies.

Weiss: I won't confirm nor deny anything.

Jaune: Ugh, figures.

Weiss: *turns to him* Oh please, you say it as if you didn't like it.

Jaune: Of course I did, I've been craving you for weeks.

Weiss: Good to hear, I felt the same.

Jaune: Just don't do that next year or I'm telling Blake about your secret costumes.

Weiss: You’re doing that again next year!?

Jaune: *chuckles* That's your main concern?

Weiss: Of course I am! These last three weeks have been hell!

Jaune: If that's the case. . . .*on top of her* Then let me take you to paradise.

Weiss: *pink* That wasn't enough for you?

Jaune: Nowhere near enough to make up for these three weeks. You gotta work Tomorrow?

Weiss: Not really, they have to fix the wall in my office so. . . . .

Jaune: Good. You won't have to make up an excuse then. Might need one for after tomorrow though.

Weiss: *red* . . . . . . .I’m in danger aren't i?

Jaune: The plan was to win the challenge and slowly ease back into routine. You tricked me into losing so now I’m giving you what you want, all of it.

Weiss: *redder* C-can we talk about this for a mome-AAHHHH~!?!?

#rwby #jaune arc #weiss schnee #jaune x weiss #rwby jaune #rwby jaune arc #rwby weiss #rwby weiss schnee #rwby jaune x weiss #whiteknight #rwby white knight #white knight #rwby whiteknight #yang xiao long #ruby rose #rwby ruby rose #rwby yang xiao long #blake belladona #rwby blake belladonna

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littlelioncub43 · 1 year

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Let's Exchange The Experience

Summary: Eddie's been acting strange lately. Slowly but surely pulling away, no matter what you try. But one phone call may just bring him right back to you.

Pairing: Mechanic! Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Word Count: 6,468 (She's a doozy ok, don't hurt yourself)

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), slight angst, drug use, smoking, kinda high sex, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), cream pie, hair pulling, oral sex (f receiving), idiots in love, said idiots screaming while fucking, fluff, happy endings.

A/N: Ok! Part 3! Here she is! Honestly, I'll let this one speak for itself. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you: HER.

Kisses 💋

—K

P.S. Reblog and comment something nice or else I'll cry.

Part II Series Masterlist

You listen to the electronic ringing through the receiver, twirling the curled phone cord as you chew your lip. The nerves of possibly being rejected again was burning in your chest. You have no idea what it was, but Eddie had been acting weird. More weird than normal. It started off as small things at first; his hands shook when he would hand you something or move your hair out of your face, his eyes wouldn’t meet yours for longer than 10 seconds (if even that), or his smile would fall a few seconds faster than normal. You assumed there was something going on, but you also assumed he would tell you about it when he was ready.

Then it was bigger things, like not letting you sit in his lap during game night with the gang or cuddle during movie nights (which were slowly but surely becoming less and less frequent in the last few weeks). You were starting to fear he’d start avoiding you completely. Your leg bouncing ceased as soon as you heard the ringing stop.

“Eddie?” You hopefully call into the phone. You hear someone shuffling on the other line before you hear the voice you had hoped for.

“Hey, Princess,” Eddie mumbles happily into the receiver, a smile was evident in his voice but his words were far too relaxed to be normal. “Been thinkin’ about you.”

“Are you high?” You couldn’t help but chuckle, ignoring the butterflies that flutter in your tummy. His rumbling, throaty laughter is enough of an answer for you to know that he is, in fact, high.

“Maaaaaybe,” he coyly drawls into the phone. High or not, it was nice to hear him sound so calm. “You wanna come over? Wayne is working a double tonight, and I got a little baggie with your name written all over it.”

Chewing your lip once more, you think it over. It had been a while since you last smoked and work had been stressing you out, not to mention whatever was going on with Eddie.

“Come on, Sweets, it’ll be good for you. You know it will,” he coos, really pulling out all the stops, he knew you couldn’t say no to him when he spoke like that. You give a dramatic sigh, feigning annoyance.

“Well, I guess I could,” you hear him chuckling, “I’ll have to reschedule dinner with the Queen and the peace summit with Russia for another day.”

“Gorbachev can wait a day or two, Princess,” he says, “I, on other hand, cannot.”

You laugh softly, a sound that Eddie swears he can live off of, and shake your head.

“I’ll be over in 10 minutes, Munson.”

“I’ll keep a joint warm for you, babe, don’t you worry,” he sasses before you hang up the phone. The stupid grin you wear doesn’t leave your face as you head out the door. It stayed put as you drive the short but chilly distance to his trailer, only when you get to the door does it falter ever so slightly. You don’t get a chance to knock, the door creaks open slowly, revealing Eddie’s red rimmed eye peering at you through the crack in the door.

“Can I help you, Madame?” He says in a goofy British accent. You nearly break into a laugh but manage to hold it in.

“Uh, yes. I’m looking for a Lord Munson. This is the Munson Estate, correct?” You match his silliness and put your hands behind your back snootily.

“It is, Madame, but I’m afraid you’ll have to state your name and business, otherwise I’ll be forced to set the dogs on ya,” he says, keeping the door ajar. You shake your head with a laugh.

“Come on, Eddie, let me in. It’s cold,” you whine softly. Snow coated the ground and an icy wind swept in from the north, your blue jeans and winter coat did very little to fight off the cold.

“Oh, right, sorry, Princess,” he immediately pulls you inside, the warmth of the trailer immediately soothing your cold hands. You take your coat off, breathing in the familiar aroma of weed and Eddie’s house. It was comforting scent that you hadn’t smelled in months, work made sure to keep you too busy to smoke as much as you used to. After kicking off your shoes, you turn to find Eddie making you a cup of tea, something you always wanted when you got too cold.

“I recall you saying something about keeping a joint warm for me?” You ask as you grab a handful of chips, popping some in your mouth as Eddie brings you your tea, focusing extra hard on not spilling a drop.

“I did! It’s right— wait, where did I put it?” He frowns and spins to search for it, muttering softly to himself as he retraces his steps before finding the neatly rolled joint waiting for you both in the ashtray on the coffee table. He grabs it and holds it up triumphantly, plopping down to the couch.

“Ha ha! Found it!” He pops it into his lips and lights it as you relax on to the couch beside him, stealing a few puffs off before handing it to you. “Here you are, my dear.”

“Thank you,” you chirp and pluck it from him. God, you needed this. Taking a deep breath, you let the thick smoke fill your lungs, eyes shut as you embrace the coming calm. Slowly, you blow the air from your pursed lips and up into the air, the action has Eddie’s full attention on you. Fuck, your lips are gorgeous. You hum and blink your eyes open. “God, I needed that.”

Eddie smiles and leans back into the couch, snagging the remote from the cushions and turning the TV on. Old reruns of Gilligan’s Island play on while you two pass the joint back and forth. You don’t say much, and for the first time in a while, it’s a comfortable silence. Soon, you find yourself leaning on Eddie, your limbs pleasantly tingly and light, made of feathers and lead all at once. You notice him shifting a lot beside you, his calmness slipping for a moment. A heavy yawn pulls from the base of Eddie’s chest as he stretches his arms above his head, one holding the shared joint comfortably between his fingers and the other coming to rest along the back of the couch behind you. You think nothing of it and choose to focus on the TV, Gilligan found radioactive vegetables and suddenly the entire island has super powers.

The warmth of Eddie’s arm sliding from the cushions to rest on your shoulders pulls your attention away from the screen once more. Eddie draws is a small breath, hiding the small gasp in the butt of the joint, but the longer his arm stays slung around you, the more he relaxes. With the buzz currently strumming through you, you decide to rest your head on his shoulder and reach for the shared blunt. Eddie hands it over, relishing in the heat as you snuggle in a little closer like you always do and sigh comfortably. His high was slowly starting to come down, which meant the nerves were starting to come back. Swallowing softly, he wills himself to relax (counterintuitive, I know). You look over at your best friend, his jaw was clenched as he breathes deeply through his nose, his leg starting to bounce as he fidgets with the hole in his jeans.

“You ok, Eds? You look tense,” you ask softly, it was killing you, you had to ask. When he looks back at you, he sees the genuine worry in your eyes. His heart soars when he realizes how close your face is to his, he can smell your shampoo, and God, you were just so perfect. He has to do something. Now or never.

“Y-Yeah,” he nods, clearing his throat, “I just wanted t-to apologize for being weird these last few weeks.”

“Oh,” you sigh, relief washing over you, “it’s ok, Eds. I figured something was up, but I’m…” you trail off, suddenly noticing how close your faces are too, “I’m glad we’re back to normal.”

“Me too, Sweets,” he says in a slow, deep voice, the sound sends a shiver through you, one you couldn’t exactly hide from him. His lips part as you stare at each other, his pupils dilating as the moments tick by.

Without breaking eye contact, Eddie takes the forgotten blunt from your hands and sets it aside in the ashtray. The brush of his hands on yours sears your skin in a way you’re all too familiar with. His hand comes back to caress your knee, his touch was gentle and careful, mindful of any boundaries that you might have. Carefully, you move with him, sliding into his lap, your movements unhurried and careful. Eddie takes a deep breath and welcomes you against his body, it was familiar yet different, you’d sat in his lap a million times before but this time just felt different. The arm that was slung around your shoulders slowly drapes itself further around your middle as you both are drawn to each other like magnets, his hold slowly capturing you like a python.

“Eddie,” you whisper, your own hand coming to his forearm, tracing those goddamn bats once more while the other rests against his shoulder. The second you touch him, Eddie is certain there is no going back for him. This was it.

“Be my girl,” he says in that low timber, his tone is bordering on begging. He’s scarily serious, a heat blazing behind his eyes. Your noses brush together, foreheads touching, your eyes stay fixed on his as you drink in his words, words you’ve dreamt of hearing for years. “Be my girl.”

“I am your girl,” you whisper without a second thought. It was the easiest answer you’ve ever given him. Eddie’s breathing catches in his throat at your words, his hands tightening around you before one slides up your back to cradle your head against his.

“You’re mine?” His voice was timid now, almost not believing you. You mould your body to him even more, cradling his head like he is yours.

“Yes,” you say simply, like it was the most obvious and true thing in the world— and it was. Eddie’s eyes slide shut with a sigh, relief washing over him as well as a tidal wave of happiness. You pull his head against yours a little firmer, basking in the quiet hush that took over the trailer ever since your conversation started.

“Kiss me.” You whisper, your words have Eddie’s eyes snapping open, almost as if he didn’t hear you correctly, so you repeat yourself. “Kiss me, Eddie.”

There were 3 things that you were absolutely certain: One, Eddie Munson had the softest lips in the entire universe. Two, there was no way you were ever going to forget this moment for as long as you live. And three, you were undoubtedly, unconditionally, and irrevocably in love with him.

Nothing in this world has ever felt so right.

The tender yet passionate press of his lips on yours had your head spinning, your hand in his hair tightened to help ground you. Eddie’s hold on you tightened as well, the kiss slowly but surely deepening. The first swipe of your tongue across his bottom lip evokes a deep groan from the pit of his chest, your own answering whimper vibrates against his mouth. He welcomes your tongue into his mouth with his own, playing with your tongue happily, taking his time to taste you as thoroughly as he possibly can. You lure his wet muscle deeper into your mouth, the action alone has Eddie panting like he ran a mile. The buzzing high from the weed is quickly replaced with the electric want strumming through you both.

Soon, breathing becomes a necessity and Eddie reluctantly breaks the kiss. Gasping for air, you can’t help but steal a few more pecks in between heaving breath, each kiss ending with a satisfyingly wet smack. The quick pecks soon turn back into full kisses, tongues drawn back to each other with need. When you shift forward, you feel it; hot and hard at the front of his jeans. Eddie detaches from your lips to gasp, his eyes fluttering as you rest your weight against his hard on.

“J-Jesus Christ,” he gasps, staring at you with those big doe eyes. He dives in again, not being able to stand to not be kissing you for every long. You hum before breaking away from him once more, your foreheads resting against each other as you breathe in sync.

“I… I love you. I love you so much,” he professes between deep breaths, the heft of sincerity is clear in his tone, “you’re… you’re everything.”

“I love you, too,” you respond and pepper his face with kisses, drawing a happy grin across Eddie’s face. “Been in love with you for so long, Eddie, so long.”

Eddie groans at that, tucking his face away into the crook of your neck, letting himself finally feast on the delicate skin like he’s always wanted. You shiver when you feel his lips sweep across your throat, messy kisses trailing along the column of your neck. It has you positively trembling, the throbbing wetness between your thighs was nearly unbearable. Sweet moans fall from your lips as he sucks a hickey into the soft skin of your throat, your hips naturally moving against his to ease the throbbing between your legs.

“Eddie,” you moan out into the living room, the sinful sound reverberating off the walls of the cluttered trailer and filling Eddie’s ears. He curses under his breath, hips lifting up to meet yours eagerly. You fall into a slow yet heated rhythm together, both of you writhing in perfect time. Eddie kisses his way back up to your mouth.

“Princess, fuck, that feels so good,” he growls, his cock pulses and strains against the seam of his zipper. Each roll of your hips was quickly turning his brain to mush, all he knew was that this was the best thing in the fucking world and nothing could possibly top it.

“Take me to bed, Eddie, please.”

Ok, he was wrong.

“Yes. I—You—Yes,” is all he can get out before he’s rising from his spot with you scooped up in his arms. You yelp at the sudden movements, clinging to Eddie’s surprisingly strong body as he marches you both towards the back of the trailer. Eddie continues to mouth at your neck and lips, switching between the two eagerly while maneuvering you both through the house perfectly. He slams his door open blindly before kicking it shut with enough vigor to shake the frame.

“Dreamt about this so many times, Sweets, you have no fucking idea,” he groans as he lowers you to his bed, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of you beneath him. The throbbing of his cock is nearly painful when he sees the sight before him: you on your back, your lips swollen and plump from his kisses, hickeys and lovebites that he left blossoming along your gorgeous neck, your hair messy from his hands.

“Oh, fuck, you have no idea,” he rips his t shirt off and tosses it to the side without a thought before diving back down to you, his mouth attached to the skin of your throat, “you’re so fucking beautiful, y’know that right? Make me so fucking crazy all the damn time.”

He was rambling, he knew it, but really couldn’t control himself at this point. The only thing on his mind was showing you just how much he loved you in any way you’d let him. Your hands eagerly explored the newly exposed skin of his torso and chest, your fingers tracing over the tattoos you’ve memorized a million times over. A pleased grin pulls at your lips when you see him shiver as your hands ghost over his heated skin. Slowly raking your hands across his chest, you cup his jaw in your hands, forcing him to look at you.

“You’re gorgeous, Eddie Munson,” you purr to him, letting every ounce of emotion you feel for him pour into your words. You see his eyes glaze over as he searches yours, looking for any lies or truths in you, and finding more of the latter than anything else. His face turns an adorable shade of pink, one that you have every intention of seeing again.

Before he can say anything, you steal another kiss, distracting him for a moment. The feeling of your hands sliding down his body once more has Eddie pulling at your top, silently asking if he can remove it. You nod and he tears the fabric away from your body as quick as he possibly can to return his mouth to yours, Eddie was certain he’d never get enough of your kisses.

The moment your hands return to his body they start sliding south, teasing the buckle of his belt. A shuddering gasp breaks Eddie’s lips from yours, his jaw drops when you cup the front of his pants. Even through the layer of denim separating you you’re able to feel his length against your palm. From what you can feel, he was thick, and hard, and just begging to be played with. With your bottom lip caught in your teeth, you rub at the bulge eagerly.

“A-Ah, haaaaaah fuck,” Eddie moans, no shame evident in his voice. He grips the bare flesh of your sides as you touch him, trying to ground himself with his mouth over your bra-covered chest. God, if it was this good through his jeans, he was certain he was going to die when you actually touch him.

“Eddie,” you moan as he mouths at your nipple through the thin material of your black bra, the sound of his name has his hips surging into your hand. He switches from one breast to the other, giving sloppy kisses and teasing bites to the soft flesh. With trembling hands, you start undoing his belt as fast as you can but whine when the belt doesn’t come undone. “Wanna feel you, baby, please?” You ask oh, so sweetly.

“Fuck, ok, ok, yeah,” he mumbles as he rises to his knees, his own shaking hands unfasten the belt much faster than you could hope for. You hear the clinking of his belt and the hum of his zipper being pulled down, your face heating up with excitement, your hips wiggling on their own accord. Eddie kicks off his jeans and socks, leaving him in his favorite checkered boxers. You barely get a glance at the tent in his boxers before he’s playing with the button and zipper of your own pants. “Can I take these off, Sweets?”

“Yes, please,” you confirm with quick nods, and that’s all he needed before tearing off your trousers and throwing them behind him without a thought.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathes as he hovers above you, his calloused hand tracing the slope of your outer thigh and hip, his thumb rubbing over the elastic band of your black panties (thank God you wore a somewhat matching set—basics for the fucking win). Your face heats up at his words again.

“You said that already, Eds,” you tease with a bashful smile, and Eddie can’t help but smirk at your reaction, you were so cute when you got all flustered.

“It needs to be said again, Princess,” his voice dropped back to that husky tone. He was looking a little too smug for your liking. Deciding that revenge was in order, you unclip your bra, letting it slip down your arms before you discard it with the rest of your clothes. The look on Eddie’s face, was exactly what you hoped: jaw dropped wide, his eyes wide and laser focused on your naked chest. He was stunned speechless.

“I—Fucking hell!” He curses under his breath before eagerly attacking your chest. Loud moans fill the room as he latches his annoying skilled mouth to your nipple, sucking and lapping at it like his life depended on it while his other hand cupped and kneaded the flesh of your other breast just as passionately. His own pitiful moans matched yours, eyes sliding shut as he relishes in the feeling of you in his hands and mouth.

“Fuck, yes!” You cry out when he pinches your hardened bud between two rough fingers and rolls it, your back arching into his face and hands for more while your hands pulled at his hair and scratched at his back. Eddie shivers when he feels the bite of your nails along his skin. Your eyes flutter when you feel his kisses getting lower and lower, now leaving a trail down your belly while his hands caressed your hips, playing with the bands of your soaked underwear. Settling in on his stomach between your legs, Eddie gently spreads your legs, holding your thighs in his large hands tenderly. A whine escapes you when he kisses along your inner thighs, making sure to leave imprints of his teeth and mouth on the juicy meat.

He was about to ask for permission to remove your underwear but you lift your hips for him before he can speak. With a pleased smirk, Eddie peels your panties away from your core, going slowly so he can watch the strings of your arousal stick to the gusset of your panties. Eddie can swear that he’s never been harder in his entire life. It takes every ounce of self control within him to not blow his load at the sight of your bare pussy, wet and waiting for him to touch. A loud appreciative groan bubbles from the back of his throat, your confidence skyrocketing at the sound of it. The small smirk you wear is quick to disappear when his tongue licks a fat stripe up the cut of you, collecting as much of your arousal as he possibly can.

“O-Ohh fuck!” You whimper and lift your head to watch him, Eddie moans as your sweetness coats his tongue for the first time. He knew immediately that he was never going to be satisfied, he would always crave your heady flavor. The feeling of his tongue lapping at your folds rids your mind of any coherent thought, all you could feel was the heat of pleasure coursing through you in perfect time with his wiggling tongue. You grip the long curly locks of his hair for help, head tipping back against the pillow, thighs trembling as his warm mouth surrounds your clit, sucking harshly just to hear you moan for him. He eats you like he would never be fed again, his movements viciously reverent, equal parts desperate and passionate.

Eddie casts a glance up at you, smiling through the hazy lust that coats his mind. You’re a mess with your sweaty skin shining in the light from his bedside lamp, your hair wild from where you’ve pulled on it, your eyes were screwed shut and your gorgeous mouth was hung ajar to let him hear every single noise you made. He’s got you right where he wants you; writhing and whining above him with his head between your thighs.

The firm grip he has on your thighs tightens the more you twist and writhe in his hold. The sting at his scalp spurs him on, your high pitched cries of his name and curses fuel his desire. He circles a thick finger at your quivering entrance before easing it into your heat, the tightness of your cunt around his finger has his hips driving down into the mattress on their own accord.

“E-Eddie! M’gonna cum!” You cry out, not caring if any of the nosy neighbors can hear you. If anything you wanted them to hear you, because Eddie Munson is a fucking God at giving head.

There’s a building tension in the pit of your gut, fire consuming your every nerve as he works you closer and closer to your high. He maintains the pace of his mouth and finger, carefully adding another finger in with the other, stretching you out as best he can. Your legs shake around his head, his free hand holding your thighs open for him, your back arching suddenly as you draw tight. He can feel your walls pulsing and fluttering around his fingers, his cock flexing desperately with need as you finally cum for him.

Melodious. Perfect. Beautiful.

That’s how Eddie would describe the sound and feeling of you coming for him. The sinful cry of his name is the only thing on your lips as you cum. Stars burst behind your eyelids as you fall over the edge, your breathing shallow and erratic as Eddie slows the speed of his fingers and mouth, now giving your clit gentle kisses. Only when you push at his head with a whining plead does Eddie release you with a gasp.

“You taste so fucking good, so fucking good,” is all he can say through his own heaving breaths, petting your outer thigh while you come down. You feel his lips press soothing kisses to your heated skin, making you grin and giggle breathily. Eddie matches your smile, your release coating his lips still, and if it were up to him, they would stay that way forever.

“Come here,” you pull at him as he quickly crawls up your body. Your lips attack his the instant they are in reach, the tangy sweetness of yourself on his tongue does nothing to deter you from practically devouring him. Eddie’s brain short-circuits when you play with the waistband of his boxers. “Take these off for me, baby.”

He did not need to be told twice.

He scrambles to get them off and down his legs, his frantic movements making you giggle and sit up on your elbows. Eddie grins when his boxers are finally kicked to the floor, his skin flushed pink already. Your breath catches in your throat when you see him; he was thick and long, his red tip leaking beads of pearly precum and glistening in the lamp light. You moan softly at the sight, biting your lip as Eddie takes his place on top of you again. He can’t say that this was the reaction he expected, but it was definitely better than he had hoped for.

Before either of you can speak, you’re pulling him in to a heated kiss and flipping him on to his back. Eddie moans in surprise when his back lands on his bed, but then a pleased purr rumbles into your mouth when you settle into his lap. A pleased sigh flutters from you when his bare skin glides across yours for the first time. No clothes, no barriers to keep you separated. It felt right.

“F-Fucking hell,” Eddie curses in a soft voice when your dripping cunt settles against his bare cock, the feeling was only what he could describe as divine. Then you rocked against him. “Oh! Oh, fuck yes!”

You whimper when his hands clutch your hips, his bruising grip helping you to grind a little faster on him.

“Yeah, yeah, a little faster, rub your pussy on me, Princess, just like that,” he breathes out, his eyes glued to the space between you to watch as his cock get drenched in your juices. “Holy fucking shit, baby, that’s so—that’s so hot.”

“Eddie, please,” you moan, the desperation was getting to you, “need you inside me, need to fuck you.”

“God,” he groans and tosses his head back on the pillow beneath him, shutting his eyes to keep from blowing his load immediately. He realizes his mistake the moment your mouth starts to bite at his neck, your plush lips sucking at his pulse to leave matching hickeys that he’ll admire later. “Fuck, ok, Princess—“ he doesn’t get to finish his sentence before you’re rising to your knees with a pretty hand wrapped around the base of his cock to guide him into you.

The moment his mushroom tip catches your quivering entrance, Eddie is sure that time stopped. You slowly ease him into you, letting gravity pull you on to his dick. So, this is what it heaven is like, you think to yourself before the pleasure renders you thoughtless. You listen to the long moan Eddie releases and naturally match it. Inch after inch, he fills you, stretching your little hole beyond what you’ve thought possible. The wetness you left behind on his shaft and the mix of his spit between your legs ease your descent, allowing him to slip further and further into you until he finally bottoms out. Eddie is speechless, his jaw open wide as he pants, eyes shut tight, his legs were already shaking. Nothing has ever felt this fucking good in his life.

“Oh my God, you’re so fucking big,” you moan in a thin voice, your eyes fluttering at the feeling of Eddie, your best friend, finally being inside you. “Feel so good, Eddie, so fucking full.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he breathes out quickly, trying to regain composure, and finally opens his eyes. He sees you perched on top of him like he’s always dreamed about: your back arched ever so slightly to accommodate him inside you, your eyes looked dazed and fucked out already, plush lips wet with your spit and ajar as you gasp for breath, sweat gave your skin a dewey ethereal glow.

“Oh God, you—fuck!” He curses again, his brain failing him and leaving him with no thoughts except ‘fuck.’ And he had every intention of doing just that.

With your hands braced on his chest, you give an experimental grind of your hips. Rolling in a circle, you let your hips move sensually, easing yourself into the sensations. The tuft of hair at the base of him rubs into your clit, the sensitive nub getting just the right amount of stimulation that has you speeding up. Drawing your hips up, you finally start to bounce on him. Soon the precise pace that you found is lost to a frenzy, want and lust taking over your bodies until neither of you can fight it.

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck, Eddie!” You cry out as you lose yourself, Eddie’s firm grip helping you ride him. He gives you a shout of your name in response of his own, his hips lifting to meet yours. He watches the way your face contorts each time he thrusts into you, addicted to the cute scrunch of your nose when he bottoms out.

“So good, that’s it, good fucking girl, taking me so fucking well,” he rambles in a gruff voice that is eerily similar to his morning voice. The throaty rasp has you clenching around him, pulling deeper groans from the man beneath you. “Such a tight little pussy, Princess, feels so good around me, never wanna fucking leave, wanna keep fucking you forever.”

He knows it’s silly but that’s how he feels. He can tell you like it too, judging from the way you claw at his pecks and throw yourself on his dick even harder. Tipping your head back, you let yourself feel. The blinding, searing euphoria coursing through your veins, Eddie’s brutal grip on your hips, his flush, heated skin sticking to yours, the pleasurable scratch of his body hair, the comfortable softness of his mattress beneath you both.

Eddie watches as your eyes slide shut, he can see each wave of pleasure crash down on you, the way your face can’t hide how good you feel, how your moans are forced out of you each time he slams you down on his cock, the hypnotizing bounce of your tits in front of him. He couldn’t take it anymore.

Sitting up, he braces a hand behind him on the bed and wraps an arm around your waist, holding you in place while he takes control. With his knees bent, Eddie is able to drive up into you harder than before. You claw at his shoulder and lean back a little, adding a small grind to his thrusts to send you both into a tizzy.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck! Eddie!” You moan at the top of your lungs, one hand grabbing a handful of Eddie’s hair and pulling harshly. That nearly does him in.

“O-Oh!” He whimpers, his cock flexing deep inside you as his pace falters for a moment before returning to the punishing rhythm. The feeling of your pussy juices leaking down his bare shaft and dripping down his balls leaves him delirious. It’s then that he realizes he’s not wearing a condom.

“Fuck! Princess, you gotta get off! M’Gonna cum! G-Get off! Gonna cum!” He sounds broken, he looks like it too, with his face crumpling with debilitating pleasure. He desperate to keep going right up until he has to pull out, his arm around you getting ready to lift you off of him.

“No, inside! Want it inside, Eddie, please!” You whine and lean in, kissing sloppily at his open mouth. Your begging is painful to listen to, but it erases any coherent thought in his head. The hand holding him up meets your clit to start rubbing furious circles on it, the rough callous of the pads of his fingers has you seizing up in his grasp. You needed to cum before he did. With his sweaty forehead resting on yours, he watches as you finally fall apart. “Cum inside me! Cum inside me! Eddie!”

You practically scream for him when you reach your peak, your entire body trembling and tensing around him. Eddie watches as you surrender to your high, he’s never seen someone look so beautiful. The unbridled scream of his name paired with your pleas for him to finish inside you is more than enough for Eddie.

“I-I love you, love you so fucking much!” He grits out through his teeth as he finally comes. Nothing in this world can describe the feeling of his cum finally filling you. The sounds of his loud moans, wanton and bordering on screams, were the most erotic sounds you could ever think of. You cling to him, and he to you, as you both shiver and tremble, riding out your highs together.

Eddie can barely think, nothing mattered to him except what he held in his arms at the moment. He could hear the ringing in his ears as well as your mixed moans, feel the heaving of your chests and the hammering of your hearts as they beat rapidly. Peeling open his heavy eyelids, he’s met with your own weighted stare. The fucked out expression on your face paired with the knowledge that he was the one to put it there, sent his heart soaring for the skies. He brings both hands to your back, rubbing the dewey skin with a shaking touch. He cradles you to him with a grin so bright you swear it could light up the sky.

You can’t help the giggle that bubbles in your throat, your arms slung around his neck to pull him into a kiss. It’s sweet and tender, a bit sloppy from your exhaustion but still absolutely perfect. Eddie strokes as much of your skin as he can reach, trailing his hands from your thighs and up your back as many times as he can.

“I love you,” you hear him mumble against your lips before kissing you again with the ghost of a smile, “I love you,” kiss, “I love you,” kiss.

“I love you, too,” you whisper back, you feel your face heat up, “that was the best sex I’ve ever had in my entire life.”

“Fuck, me too,” Eddie grumbles with a smirk, clearly proud of himself, “I don’t think I can walk after that,” he chuckles, “fucking hell, when you begged me to cum inside you? Fuck, I nearly passed out.”

You chuckle with him and hide your face in the crook of his neck, letting him hold you a little closer. Eddie grins like an idiot, you were always so cute when you got bashful, and it was funny to see the contrast between the sweet angel hiding her face and the sex goddess who rode him within an inch of his life. His light laughter died off as he lowered his head to whisper to you.

“I came inside you.” You could hear the worry in his voice, so you caress the meat of his arm before pulling back to give him a reassuring smile.

“I’m on the pill. We’re safe,” you say gently. In an instant, any and all worries left his body immediately. The cute little wrinkle between his lightly furrowed eyebrows disappeared with a sigh and was replaced by his million-dollar smile.

“We’re safe,” he repeats and you nod, “so that means I can do that again?”

“If you want to,” you bite your lip when Eddie gives you a mischievous look.

“‘If I want to?’ Princess, that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do for the last 5 years,” he scoffs and shakes his head, “‘If I want to.’”

You giggle at his rambling and play with a strand of his messy hair. A few moments pass in silence as you both bask in the after glow.

“When did you… did you realize that you love me?” You ask gently, peeking up to see Eddie watching you with loving eyes— like he always was.

“Since you told me my bat tattoo was cool in sophomore year,” he whispers back to you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear while he smiles at the memory. “You were the only one who actually liked them. I couldn’t look at them without thinking of you, after that. Still can’t.”

“Oh,” you were nearly crying. How sweet can he possibly be, you were going to die.

“What about you?”

“When you beat up Derek Steinberg for starting those rumors about me. You did it without even hesitating and then you-you made sure that I was ok. You were so kind and so selfless and— no one ever cared about me like that before.”

“Well, it seems we’ve had it down bad for each other for a long time,” he chuckles, lightening up the mood a little. “We’ve got some time to make up, don’t you think?”

“Mmhmm,” you nod with a smile.

“Dates, dinners, parties… I think it’s time we did some of those.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

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Comments and reblogs are appreciated and needed because I love them 💖

#come on angel the series #eddie munson x reader #mechanic!eddie munson is my new love #mechanic!eddie munson #mechanic!eddie munson x female reader #mechanic!eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x you smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #joseph quinn #little lion literature

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bloatedandalone04 · 7 months

Text

You Made it Shine

➪the one where you’ve been feeling a bit lonely, and leon intends on making it up to you.

Warnings: first time daddy kink writer - be gentle, age gap, 18+, daddy kink obvi, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (leon just really wants to knock you up), breeding kink, swearing, scratching, biting, hair pulling, choking, y’all are f r e a k y

Word Count: 4.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | Thank you for 3.6k followers mwah

Some trash reality TV show played in the background while you flipped to another page in your textbook. You had been given a fucking stupid amount of homework to do by next Monday, and you were beginning to feel stressed out about it all.

It didn’t help that you missed your boyfriend, either.

Leon had been very busy lately, and you only really saw him when he got in bed with you after eleven PM.

While you didn’t know much about what he did for work, you knew it required him to be gone a lot and he had to dedicate most of his time to it.

You huff quietly as you scribble out a word you misspelt before trying again, glancing over at your phone when it went off from its place on the floor beside you.

Daddy 💖: Gonna be another late night, I think. I’m sorry, baby, I know you wanted to watch that new movie. I promise we’ll get to it soon. Be home in a few hours ❤️

You huff again and quickly type out a message before tossing your phone aside, knowing damn well how childish you are acting, but also not caring at all.

I’m bored, Leon. I miss you. Let me know when you have time for me.

As you started to read over the notes you took during your lecture earlier today, your phone went off again within seconds of you sending that last text.

Daddy 💖: Don’t be like that, princess, I’m feeling bad enough as it is. I’ll be home soon and then we can figure out a time that works for both of us. Only a few more weeks then I’ll get to use some of my unpaid days off, and I’ll be spending every one with you.

You bite your lip and decide not to answer, already feeling a bit bad for how you acted in your previous message to him.

Leon worked very hard and put in more hours than most people, and you knew he got into that kind of work early on in his life. He didn’t tell you really anything about his job, but you knew he started when he was twenty one and had been in the same field ever since, now at the age of thirty three.

You were only twenty two, and you seriously couldn’t imagine putting yourself through half the things he did, so you had to appreciate his dedication, even if just a little bit.

After reading for a while, you ventured off to yours and Leon’s shared room and changed into a lacy, black two piece pyjama set so you could be a bit more comfortable while you studied.

You ate a few pieces of strawberries you had cut up for lunch earlier as you skimmed through your notes, the time passing by quicker than you thought it would.

Before long the front door was swinging open and slamming shut, and the sound of heavy footsteps were heard approaching the living room. “Baby,” Leon rasped as he stood in the doorway.

You look up at him from your spot on the carpet, your books and pages scattered around you. “Hi,”

Leon shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto the armchair next to the door before he was slowly crouching down and meeting your eye level. “Hi,” he said back. His eyes raked over the mess of papers and the tired look on your face, his heart aching a bit at how neglected you looked. “I was worried about you.”

You leaned into his touch when he reached over and ran his knuckles along the curve of your jaw. “Why?”

“You didn’t answer my text,” he stated as his gaze dipped down to your lips.

Shrugging, you look back at your book. “I felt bad for how I acted,”

“For how you acted?” Leon laughed quietly and moved so he is kneeling next to you. “Baby, I’m the one who cancelled our plans, again. I’m the one who feels bad.”

You tilt your head when his chin comes to rest on your shoulder. “It’s alright,” you murmured as you felt his lips softly brush the skin behind your ear. “Work comes first. I know that.”

“Not when it comes to you,” he corrected as he moved to pull you onto his lap right there on the living room floor. “You should know that, instead.”

You were finding it hard to focus with his body pressed right up against your back, and his hands running up and down the skin of your thighs, but you played it up as if his actions didn’t faze you.

Until he leaned in and pressed his lips to the side of your neck, moving upwards to whisper, “You look so pretty, baby,” and you just could not stop the shiver that ran through your body. “Did you wear this for me?”

You were helpless as you nodded, glancing over at the time on your phone and seeing that Leon had only been at work for another hour before getting home, and not a few like he said. “Did you rush home for me?”

“Everything I do is for you,” he reminded you as he trailed his mouth along your shoulder blade. “Everyday, you’re on my mind, baby.”

You bite your lip as you turn your head so you can look into his annoyingly pretty eyes. Pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, you close your eyes as you lean back against him. “I missed you, daddy,”

Leon groaned and pressed a proper kiss to your mouth, slipping his hands under your shirt as he murmured, “I missed you, too, princess. Fuck, did I ever,”

You turn fully so you’re straddling his lap and grip his shoulders with your fingers. “Touch me,” you nearly begged, missing the feeling of his hands on your body after going without it for nearly two straight weeks. “Please.”

Leon cooed at your pout, reaching up to pull at your bottom lip with his thumb. “My sweet girl,” he said, more so to himself. “I haven’t been taking very good care of you, have I?”

You shook your head and pressed your knees into the carpet on either side of his hips. “No, you always take good care of me,” you promised, tangling your hands in his hair. “I just miss you.”

He nodded and placed a noisy kiss on your lips. “I’m right here, baby,” he swore as his hands drifted lower, taking the lace of your panties between his fingers and pulling it down with him. “I’ll take care of you, like I always do.” He said against your mouth as he gently lifted you up and placed you down so your back is against the papers that were scattered all over the carpet.

They crinkle under you, but you don’t care as he pulls the lace from your body and immediately replaces it with his lips. You sigh and jolt a bit as you reach down to grip his head with one hand. “Daddy,”

Leon grunted against your core and the vibrations had you bucking up against him. “That’s right, baby,” he muttered, running the tips of his fingers along your wet folds. “You needed your daddy, huh?”

“Always,” you answer, spreading your thighs a bit more as he further delved into you. “I always need you, Leon.”

He hummed against your clit. “I need you, too,” he promised, wrapping his free arm around your thigh and pulling your body closer to his greedy mouth. “Every single fucking day I need you. You’ve made me so damn pathetic, princess.”

You moaned and arched your back a bit, further scrunching up the notes you took. “You’re so good to me, daddy,” you nearly whisper. “That doesn’t make you pathetic. It’s so attractive, you don’t even know how hot you are.”

Leon smiled up at you in appreciation. “I bet you don’t realize how hot you are, either, sweet girl,” he says. “And you taste so fucking good, I could stay down here forever.”

It was a sight that was nearly too hot to handle. Leon hadn’t even been home for five minutes before he was going down on you, still wearing his work clothes, which consisted of black jeans, a black shirt that fit him so well and showed off his toned chest, and boots.

You always thought he looked too hot to be going to work, but then you realized that he simply looked too hot all the time. How you managed to get him all to yourself, you’d never know, but he is somehow completely obsessed with you in every possible way.

“That’s fine with me,” you murmur, running your fingers through his hair and looking down at him. “I’m always so wet for you.”

Leon groaned loudly and began to fuck his fingers into your greedy core. “I know, sweet girl,” he mumbled, coating his fingers in your wetness with every thrust of his hand. “You’re so sensitive. I can just look at you and you’d get wet for me.”

“I can’t help it,” you say quietly. “You’re so hot, daddy.”

“I’m not teasing you, baby,” he promised, kissing your inner thigh as he continued to move his fingers in and out of you. “Not at all. I love how much you need me and how much I turn you on. It’s the same way for me. You make me so hard, it’s painful sometimes.”

You gasp out a laugh that quickly turns into a moan when he curls his fingers in order to be able to reach your sweet spot. “Daddy,” you whined, bucking your hips up as best as you could against his firm hold. “Please.”

“I know, princess,” he hummed, fucking his fingers hard into you and loving the way your face scrunched up at the pleasure. “I know. You just need your daddy to make you come, huh?”

“Please,” you say again, reaching down to grip his hand in yours. His other picked up the pace and his thumb brushed against your clit with every thrust. “Please.”

Leon kissed all along your thighs, never taking his eyes off your face. “I love it when you beg, baby,” he says. “But you don’t need to right now. I’m gonna get you off so good, I promise.”

“Leon,” you nearly yelled as his mouth returned to your clit. He sucked on it harshly and felt as your thighs shook a bit. He moved down when he felt your release coat his fingers, and delved his tongue within your walls to taste you.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl,” he praised, sliding his sopping fingers out of you and licking them clean. “You taste so good, baby. So sweet.”

You whine and pull him down on top of you. “Please, daddy,” you begged, kissing him deeply as he settled between your thighs. “I need you. Want you to fuck me so badly.”

He tsked, bracing himself by his forearms on either side of your head. Next to where your hair is sprawled out was a sheet from the lecture you had earlier, and Leon grinned at the small amount of drool that left your lips and landed on the paper. It smudged your name and made the ink bleed a bit, but you didn’t care at all. “Look at you,” he groaned, licking up the line of salvia from your mouth to your jaw. “My smart girl, all hot and bothered for me. You want me to fuck you stupid, huh?”

“Yes,” came your instant reply.

The sight of you was something that couldn’t even be found on the internet. You were so pure and so rare, and all his.

You were too smart for your own good, yet he could easily get you all dumb for him and his dick. He can easily get you desperate for him.

“Wait,” he requested, grinding against you when you whined at the word. Your whole body shook as his jeans brushed against your wet and sensitive core, and it was almost enough to have you push him away. “See? You’re not ready to get off again. Not yet.”

He leaned in to kiss all over your collarbones and shoulders, one hand reaching down to push up your flimsy top. Your breasts spill free from the thin fabric and he moves further down in order to wrap his lips around your nipple.

“I’ll get you ready,” he promised as he swirled his tongue around the taunt peak, his fingers moving to pinch and pull at your neglected one. “Get you all nice and ready for daddy’s dick.”

“Mm, fuck,” you whined, raking your fingers through his hair and pulling on the light strands. “Leon…Fuck, I love you.”

He grunted against your nipple, pulling away and leaving a strand of salvia behind. “I love you so much more, baby. My pretty girl,” he leaned back on his knees, draping your thighs over his as he slowly rocked his hips into yours. You looked so fucked out already, with your tits on full display, your thighs coated in your own release, and your lips swollen and wet. Leon had never seen a prettier sight.

The front of his jeans quickly began to sport a damp spot from the way he rubbed against your dripping core, and he never wanted to wash them. He could live happily forever while just being covered in your sweet scent.

You whimpered as you played with your nipples, the slow grind of his hips beginning to work you up again. Your quiet gasps and moans were music to his ears, and Leon was prepared to take tomorrow off just so he can spend the whole day eliciting more sounds from you.

The cool metal of his zipper against your heated clit had your eyes rolling back, your chest lifting up and causing your notes to become wrinkled under you. “Daddy,” you whispered, grinding up against him. He stilled his hips and let you rub against him, his eyes following the lift and drag of your core against his painfully hard dick through his jeans.

“There you go,” he rasped, gripping your waist and giving you a sharp thrust. You moan loudly, bucking against him desperately. “You sound so sweet, baby. So good for me.”

“Please,” you whisper.

He pulls away and watches as your core drips with arousal, sliding down your folds and wetting your anatomy notes without a care in the world. He wanted to lick it up so badly, but refrained from doing so when he felt your gentle tugs on his shirt.

Leon reached behind him and pulled off the tight fabric from his chest, tossing it aside to join your damp panties.

You bite your lip and sit up, pulling off your own shirt and throwing it to the side as well. The sound of pages crumpling fills the room as you move to copy his knelt stance, your body much smaller than his and making you have to tilt your head to be able to look up at him.

Leon reaches down and grazes your cheek with his knuckles. “What do you want, baby?”

You hum, kissing his wrist before moving up to kiss his lips. Your arms wrap around his shoulders as he deepens the kiss, his hands sliding up to tangle in your hair as his tongue explore your strawberry tasting mouth. “I wanna make you feel good, daddy,” you murmur when you pull away.

Placing open mouthed kisses down his chest, you pause at the waistband of his jeans. You glance up at him as your fingers make work of unzipping them after pulling his belt off.

“Let me go down on you, daddy,” you offered, pushing down his black boxer briefs and freeing him. “Let me suck you off.”

Leon groaned and tightened his grip on your hair. “You don’t have to ask, princess,” he reminded you. “You know I won’t ever pass up one of your blowjobs.”

You grinned, gripping him tightly. “I know,” you say before wrapping your lips around him. Starting off with his tip, you run your tongue along his head before slowly taking more of him. You hollow your cheeks and take him until your nose is pressed to his pelvis bone and he is hitting the back of your throat.

You move so you’re lying flat on your front, your hips pressed to the floor and your juices still dripping onto your homework pages.

Leon groaned loudly, gathering your hair into a ponytail as you began to suck him off. “God, baby, you’re going to need to ask for a new page for your homework assignment,” he announced. “You’re soaking the one you have now.”

You moan around him, your eyes nearly rolling back when you feel your clit throb at his words. You clench helplessly around nothing at all, your walls pulsating with every sound that leaves his sinful lips.

“It’s all for you,” you tell him, stroking his wet shaft with your hand as you lean forward to kiss along his abs. His body was insane and you were sure you could spend the rest of your life exploring it and never get bored of the way it felt against your hands.

He worked out so often, his body had no choice but to tighten up in all the right places. “I know it is, sweet girl,” he mumbled. “All mine, aren’t you? Mine to take whenever I want.”

You moan embarrassingly loud at his possessive words, feeling more wetness drip from your folds. “I’m so wet, daddy,” you gasp, licking his tip once more. “I missed you so much.”

“I know, baby,” he cooed, tugging on your lip with the thumb of his freehand. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much. I missed you, too. You need me to fuck you now, sweet girl?”

You hum, pulling off him again and stroking him with both hands. “I need it so badly,”

Leon hummed in agreement. “Lay back, princess,” he instructed quietly. You oblige right away, sitting up only to lay on your back a few seconds later.

“Are you going to breed me, daddy? Get me all knocked up?” You tease, knowing how badly he wanted to see you round with his baby. Being with you had unlocked so many kinks, Leon hadn’t even heard of some of them, but he knew he definitely had them.

Leon cursed under his breath as he pulled his jeans off completely and threw them to the side. “I’m going to fuck you so good, baby,” he promised, staying in his knelt position and grabbing your thighs. He spread your legs and exposed your awaiting core, all ready and his for the taking. “Show all those college boys how badly you wanted me to knock you up.”

You moan loudly, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can watch him coat his salvia covered dick in your wetness before easily sliding in you. Your head falls back and your chest pushes up, your nipples hard and straining against the cool air in the room. “Fuck,”

“That’s my girl,” he grunted once he was fully buried in you. “So fucking tight.”

“Daddy,” you whine, watching as he began to slowly fuck into you. “You stretch me so good.”

Leon grunted in reply. “You were made for me, princess,” he says, draping your thighs over his again and rocking his hips into yours. “Mine from the very beginning.”

“Fuck, Leon,” you moan, the slick sound of your walls taking every inch of him filling the room. “I need you, daddy. Please.”

“How do you need it, baby?” He asked, running his hands up and down your thighs.

“Hard,” you answer, and that was all he needed. He gripped your waist tightly and began fucking into you fast and steady, making your whole body jolt and shake with each thrust. “Oh, fuck. Fuck.”

Your head falls back and you lay down again, reaching down to grab onto his wrists. “Like this?” He mocked under his breath, eyeing the way your tits bounced with every move he made.

“Yes,” you moan. “Fuck yes, daddy, just like that.”

“Good girl,” he praised, adoring how responsive you always are to him. “I’ll fuck you nice and hard, like you deserve.”

You whimper and he reaches one hand up to fondle one of your breasts, his thumb and index finger pinching your already hard nipple. Your whole body shakes a bit as he uses his other thumb to rub harsh circles onto your clit.

It was probably too much too fast, but he knew you could take it.

You were his sweet, cock-hungry girl, of course you could take it.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you lay back and push away various papers, not caring about their well-being at all as you shove them away from you.

You should have more self control. You should be studying right now and watching your dumb reality TV show, but here you are instead, splayed out and taking him so well like you always did.

You couldn’t help it. Leon was so effortlessly attractive and he got you going without even trying.

You missed this physical contact with him for weeks, and you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity to get off with him.

“Feel good, baby?” He asked, drilling into you without showing any signs of stopping. “Feel full?”

“Yes,” you respond not even a second later. “Feels so good, Leon.”

He grunted, removing his hand from your chest and sliding it upwards until his fingers were gently pressing against the base of your throat.

At the slight blocking of your airway, your eyes light up and you grin at him. “Yes,” you moan again, wrapping your nimble fingers around his wrist.

Leon stared down at the sight below him, his lips parting a bit as he groaned loudly. “My dirty girl, huh? Letting me do whatever I want to you. Letting me fuck you raw,” he mutters, more so to himself. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you want me to knock you up.”

You moan in response, clenching tightly around him. “Leon,”

“Yeah,” he huffed, tightening his fingers around your throat. “You want me to fuck a baby into you, don’t you? Get you all nice and pregnant?”

You both knew that he wanted that, and you did, too, but later down the road. Maybe after you graduate college.

Leon understood that and is more than supportive of it, so he settled on fantasizing about it instead.

It was just so hard to not imagine a future where you and he start a family of your own. He couldn’t wait.

“I want it, daddy,” you whimper, feeding into his kink. “Wanna make you feel good.”

“You do make me feel good, sweet girl,” he murmured, gripping your hips in both hands as he fucked into you hard. “You make me feel so good, wrapped around me so tightly, taking me like the good girl you are. You’re so good to me, baby.”

Your eyes roll back as you blindly reach for him. Pulling him down on top of you, your legs wrap around his waist when he moves so he’s hovering over you.

Raking your nails down his back, you hear him inhale sharply next to your ear. “There you go,” he muttered. “Scratch me up, princess. I want it.”

You oblige and dig your nails a little deeper, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to leave angry red trails indented on his back. “Leon,” you gasp as you clamp down tightly around him. “Please, make me come again. I need it.”

“Come, baby,” he requested. “All over me. I want you to make it so fucking messy.”

He leaned down and gently sunk his teeth into the skin of your shoulder. His tongue soothed the small sting and your body pulsated a bit as you felt your second orgasm rip through you. “Fuck, Leon, fuck fuck,”

Your walls sucked him in impossibly deeper and each thrust of his hips was noisier than the last. The faint squelch was barely heard over your loud cries as you came harder than before, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Fuck yeah,” he grunted as he felt your warmth flood around him. “Good girl.”

His words set butterflies loose in your body and you cling onto him with every ounce of energy you have left. “Daddy,” you whispered, your core begging for a break but also begging for him to fill you up. “Come, please…inside me.”

Leon lets out a throaty groan as he fucked into you a few more times before stilling. He comes deep within your soaked walls, painting your core white as he fills you up to the brim. “Fuck, baby,” he rasps, pulling out slightly then slipping back inside you again.

He wanted to make sure his seed reached as deep as it could go in you, even if there was no way you could actually get pregnant right now since you’re on the pill.

You whine a bit when he pulls out completely, replacing his dick with his fingers as he pushes his come back inside you. “Where it belongs,” he mumbles as he leans down to press a kiss to your abused core.

You shudder a bit as he moves back up your body and wraps you in his arms. Relaxing against his chest, you let out uneven breaths as you feel his seed run down your folds and seep into your lecture notes. “Thank you,” you whisper, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw. “I really did miss you so much, Leon.”

He kisses your forehead and tightens his hold on you a bit. “I missed you, too, sweet girl,” he replied, knowing both you and he would probably wake up tomorrow with rug burn marks on your bodies. “I’m sorry for not being here very much. I promise it’ll only be a couple more weeks and then I’ll be given a break.”

“It’s okay,” you smile, giving him another kiss. “You made up for it tonight.”

Kind of don’t like this at all, so be gentle and lie to me if you hate it, too x

#leon #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon re #leon smut #re4 leon #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil 4 #resident evil 2 remake #resident evil x reader

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stayinlimbo · 25 days

Text

Returned Call

wc: 765, genre: exes to lovers(?), warnings: cursing in beginning, slightly unedited

note: although i feel this could be read as a stand-alone, here is the sequel to Missed Call you guys were asking for. i hope you enjoy ♡

Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice message system: You know. Lee Minho. Not available. Voicemail. Speak.

Fuck you, Lee Minho. No, seriously, fuck you.

Tell me why I was contacted by not one but three of your dancing buddies within the past twenty-four hours about how you’ve been moping around and trudging through your routines for the past week.

They were all essentially the same. You haven’t been the same since we broke up, is there any way we could reconnect, give you one more chance, blah blah blah.

You must be doing really bad if one of them was Hyunjin, of all people.

Two months too late, don’t you think?

As if any of this was my fault.

…

I was getting better before you called, you know?

I finally fixed my sleep schedule. I won’t lie, it took longer than I’d like to admit to break the habit of staying up late for you. At least I was already used to sleeping alone.

I reconnected with some old friends since I couldn’t talk to Jisung as much without being reminded of you. They can still read me like a book, even after all these years.

I even went on a date.

Granted, it was with myself, but I like to think it still counts.

…

You know what I realized on my “date?” And while out with my friends? And on the sleepless nights I spent staring up at my childhood bedroom’s ceiling?

I had forgotten what it felt like to be seen. To be appreciated. To be loved.

It seems like you’ve come to that conclusion as well, because you’re right. I deserved better. I deserve better. I may have ended our relationship, but I wasn’t the one who left first.

I remember our last kiss, paired with another one of your lies I foolishly kept believing in until I finished the movie night you promised you’d be home in time for. And I remember waking up on the couch with a sore neck to see your fatigued silhouette entering the front door, barely sparing me a glance as you dragged yourself towards the bedroom.

You didn’t even look sorry.

How could you, I guess, if you left everything back at the studio?

…

I used to admire your passion, Minho. I hate that I still do. You pour everything you have, everything you can possibly give, into what you love. So why couldn’t you do the same for us? For me?

You say you love me, but why does it feel like I lost something I'm not sure I ever had?

…

Where did we go wrong? What did I do wrong? I gave everything to you. I gave you my heart, my body, my entire being. I gave you everything until there was nothing left to give.

I never asked for anything outlandish. I think it’s reasonable to want to talk with your partner, to share your lives with one another. I think it’s reasonable to ask about when you’ll be home for our anniversary without being yelled at in front of your friends.

You want me to be proud of you? You want me to be happy about one of the very things that ripped us apart?

Yes, you’re selfish, but I’m no better.

…

Maybe this is my fault. After all, no one should feel obligated to love someone. I just never thought it’d apply to us.

…I wish I could hate you. I really do.

But all I see is your stupid face smiling at me when I close my eyes. I hear your laugh ringing in my ears when I remember the ways you said or did something ridiculous to make me feel better after a stressful day. I still feel the warmth of your body wrapped around mine when we did wake up next to each other, our legs entwined together to where it was impossible to escape. Not that I ever wanted to.

I want you to keep smiling at me. I want you to hold me. I want you to miss me. I want you to want me.

Because I still want you.

…

I want to give you a second chance, Minho. If things could be different this time, if we could be different. If we could share ourselves, wholeheartedly, as lovers, and not strangers.

I want to fall in love with you again, Lee Minho.

…

Call me back, when you get the chance. You can keep the shirts for now.

Just please, don’t make me regret this.

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

taglist: @linospuddin @linocz @spicyhyunn

ending note: I hope this didn't disappoint. I really tried my best to make it work with all the angst in here :D. I also tried incorporating parallels from Missed Call so hopefully that wasn't too annoying or anything <3

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suugarbabe · 7 months

Note

completely fine if not!! just wanted to ask if in the end you were going to write the Mattheo x animagus!reader thingy i sent in some time back, but absolutely just out of curiosity!! i hope i don't come across as pressuring or similar, because i'm also very excited for your other projects and i can't wait to read them!!🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

Omggggg I’m trash I’m trash I’m trash! I swear I did have this done. It’s right here. I’m so sorry I had this in my Google docs and lately I’ve been working straight from my inbox so I forgot I even completed it. Please don’t hate me I’m so sorry love :((

One of your favorite things about being in your cat form was basking in the sun. It really helped whenever you were stressed, or anxious, or tired, or whenever you really just needed to get away from other people. Today's basking came from just needing to clear your head.

You stretched your little black paws out, letting out a soft meow like yawn before turning on your side right in a sun spot. You were nearly drifted off into a light sleep when you hear someone slump against the other side of the tree.

Curiosity getting the best of you, you slowly stalked around the trunk to see none other than Mattheo Riddle. He didn’t notice you at first, his head sitting in his hands and breathing deeply.

You nuzzled your head against his thigh, his head snapping up at the motion. “Well hello there, beautiful,” he get your head an affection pet, looking around the courtyard for another person, “Are you out here by yourself? Where is your owner?”

You nudged his hand with the top of your head. He laughed lightly, “Okay, okay, I get the picture.” He started to lightly scratch the space between your ears, earning an affection purr from you.

You stayed cuddling with Mattheo like that for a good hour before he had to go. He said his apologies to you, saying he hoped he ran in to you again soon. You rubbed yourself against his legs before he left, then you went and sat in the sun again.

Later that day at lunch, you were talking with Susan Bones when Mattheo came and sat down next to you, a rather large smile on his face. You rested your head in your hand as you turned to look at him, an inquisitive look on your face.

Mattheo caught you staring, “What? Something on my face, Princess?” You laughed, dipping your finger in the pudding bowl next to you before tapping his nose, “You’ve got some pudding right about…there.”

Mattheo’s mouth dropped open in shock, “Oh you’re gonna pay for that later, Y/l/n. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.” This sentence caught your attention, “Oh? And what has put Mattheo in a good mood today?”

His smile was smug, “I made a new friend. Well, she’s a cat. But she’s beautiful and cuddly and…you know what I should just show you. She seems to hang out in the courtyard.”

Mattheo grabbed your hand, dragging you out of the Great Hall. You gave Susan an apologetic look, but see only seemed to be smirking. When you reached the courtyard, Mattheo was disappointed to see the cat was not there. You tried to give him a sympathetic look, without giving away that you knew why the cat was no longer there.

The next morning Mattheo found you again, in cat form. Giving you cuddles and ear stretches and belly rubs. It was the most physical affection Mattheo had shown you, even if he didn’t really know it was you. But you couldn’t give it up, not with the crush you’ve had on him for the last two years.

At lunch the same day Mattheo tried to show you the car, again. But again, it wasn’t there. For obvious reason. It went on like this about every other day for two weeks. Mattheo would find cat you in the morning, he started talking to you, telling you why he was upset, or about his day, his worries.

You started to feel a little bad every time he tried to show you the cat and it not being there. But nothing could prepare you for what Mattheo was essentially confessing one morning.

You were laying in his lap, stretched out while he made gentle circles on your belly. “Have you ever had feelings for someone that you weren’t sure if they liked you back?” You looked up at him from his lap, your little black ears perking up at his question.

He huffed to himself, “What am I saying, you’re a cat. You just look for rubs and cuddles. Ugh, gorgeous I really like this one girl. But we’re such good friends I don’t know if I should tell her. I keep trying to show her you. I really want to have something just between us, think maybe it’ll bring us closer,” Mattheo picked you up, holding you so your body stretched down but your little cat nose and his were nearly touching, his tone turning to baby voice, “but you always seem to be gone when I bring her, don’t you beautiful?”

He sighed, setting you down. You felt so guilty. You had to tell him the truth, you started running towards a set of trees on the other side of the courtyard. Your mad dash away startled Mattheo, him getting up and trying to chase after you.

Once behind the pair of trees, you transformed back to your regular self. Mattheo peaked around the trees, jumping back slightly when he saw you, his face quickly turning in to a smile, “Y/n/n, did you see her? The cat. She came right this way.”

You looked at him with an expression he couldn’t quite read. “Teo…I, I am the cat.” Mattheo let out a chuckle, “What do you mean, love?”

You took a deep breath, looking down at the ground, “I, erm, I’m an animagus. A black cat more specifically. It’s why…why, erm, you could never show me her. Well, I was her.”

There was silence. You waited a beat, expecting him to be upset for keeping a secret or get upset for allowing him to be so vulnerable and essentially lying to him for the last three weeks.

What you didn’t expect was his arms to wrap around you, for him to pull you close and squeeze you tight before pulling back, “That is so bad ass.”

Your face broke out into a smile, “Really? You’re not, like, made or anything? I know I should’ve told you sooner but I just…liked being close to you. Even if it had to be that way.”

You met his eyes shyly, only to be met by his shining, “Y/n/n, this is seriously so cool. Merlin, I thought I loved you before but this is so amazing. You’re so amazing, beautiful, gorgeous. Human form and cat.”

Mattheo’s eyes widen at the realization of his confession. “I, erm, I’m sorry I-”

“I love you too, Teo,” you cut him off. He flashed you a dimpled smile, “Yeah?” You nodded your head, lifting up on your tip toes to press a light kiss to his cheek, which instantly flamed.

He looked at you with shy eyes, scratching the back of his neck nervously, “Now that you’re secrets out, don’t think we could maybe…erm, use your animagus to prank the other boys one day?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, nodding, “Under one condition.”

Mattheo placed his hands on your waist, “What’s that, love?”

You couldn’t resist the urge to be cheesy in the moment, “You call me officially yours, both human and cat form.” Mattheo’s smile widen impossibly larger. “That I can do, Princess,” he leaned in, stealing another sweet kiss from your lips.

#Mattheo riddle x reader #Mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x hufflepuff!reader #mattheo riddle x y/n #animagus!reader

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huggybearluvr · 6 months

Text

KC Confessions

General Masterlist

Series Masterlist

previous part || next part

i’m in my writing era so enjoy the consistent updates while it last😚 (i give it a week)

After the big Kansas City win you, the boys, and your best friend all went out celebrating with the team. As you arrived at one of your favorite bars in the area you all were quick to find a table and get drinks.

As you sat talking to Luke about going to the eagles game next weekend, your friend ran over, "It's our song lets dance!"

She grabbed your hand pulling you out to the dance floor. You stood back to her dancing along to the music.

Luke on the other hand was sat with Mark and Ethan. He watched your every mood. Admiring the way your hips swayed on beat, how your hair fell so perfectly over your shoulders, and how you smiled the entire time.

"Bro, when are you gonna actually do something?" Ethan asked smacking Luke on the shoulder.

"What do you mean?" He said looking at them confused.

"Bro, we all see how you look at her, do something about it already," Mark said knowingly.

Luke sat silently before getting up to go get another drink.

"Hey," A man said from behind you turned around to see Creed Humphrey one of your brothers teammates.

"Hi, you played great today," You spoke loudly ensuring he heard you over the loud music.

"Can I buy you a drink?" He asked.

You nodded, he took your hand leading you to the bar.

"I'll get what ever is on draft and what ever she would like," Creed said to the bartender.

"I'll take a seltzer please, any flavor," You said as the bartender walked off to get get your drinks.

"So, when do you leave?" He asked getting a bit closer so you could hear him.

"Probably late tomorrow," You responded not really knowing the plan.

"So, you could come back to my place tonight?" He asked placing a hand on your waist.

You laughed before you felt a hand on your shoulder pulling you back.

"Sorry bud, she can't," Luke said interrupting your conversation, you looked up at him confused.

"You are?" Creed said in a quite rude tone.

"Luke, I'd say nice to meet you but it's really not."

The bartender came over setting your drinks down," Enjoy."

Before Creed could play Luke threw a ten on the table.

"Let's go," Luke said, placing a hand on your back leading you back to the table.

You stopped turning around to face him, "Luke what was that?"

"I didn't like that guy," He responded.

"So, you dragged me away? how did you know if I did wanna go with him or not?" You asked.

"You are not going home with him." Luke said through gritted teeth.

"Why can't I? Like you said your not my keeper," You responded a little angered at this.

"God y/n is it really not that obvious," He said as his hand ran through his hair. Something you noticed he did when he was stressed.

"what?" You asked genuinely confused at his words.

"I like you y/n, like a lot." He said meeting your eyes desperately looking for a reaction.

"Luke," You didn't know what to say. You had liked him as well but didn't know what to say. You stood there unable to speak.

"I'm sorry," He said before walking away.

Your best friend came over to you noticing your distressed look, "Hey, hey whats wrong?" She asked placing a hand on your shoulder.

"Luke he-" You stopped yourself not knowing if you could tell her.

"What did he do? Did he hurt you?" She asked.

"God no, he would never, he told me he likes me," You finally spoke the words as the impact of those words ran through your body.

"Well isn't that good?" She asked.

"I don't know, where did he go?" you asked looking around the bar.

"I think he ubered back to the hotel."

"Shit, I gotta go," You responded heading over to the boothe to grab your things.

You ran over to your brother," Hey I gotta go, I love you," You said as you hugged him.

"I love you too, Everything okay?" He asked noticing your distressed persona.

"I'm fine, promise," You smiled.

You took your phone out ordering an Uber.

You went outside and got into the car, you sat in silence figuring out what to say.

As your Uber pulled up to the hotel, you thanked the driver and ran inside and up to Luke and Eddies room.

You took a deep breathe, knocking on the door. There was no response so you knocked again.

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x you #luke hughes insta edit #mark estapa #nhl x reader #travis kelce #kelce #jason kelce #jack hughes

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 months

Text

Mini fluffy soulmate au, fates intervening and things like that. Mentions of a toxic relationship (not Eddie and reader) 18+ blog so minors shoo.

✨🫶🪄

Eddie was so late. This was his last chance to get back together with Violet and he was late. He had planned everything to a T, had flowers sent to her but when he called to confirm that she had gotten them it was met with stony silence.

"What flowers? Honestly all you do is fuck up Eddie, why am I surprised this is any different?" Her words cut him deeply, he wasn't the one who cheated, she was.

All because of a stupid tattoo. A tattoo that literally everyone in the world had. It was the mark of a soulmate, when the person met their soulmate the tattoo would burn and then glow.

The person was their other half, the one. Eddie scoffs at this. It sounded like fairytale bullshit and he wouldn't believe it was more than some fake shit. Except he knew that Steve had met his soulmate, Robin had met hers and Gareth had met his.

He was the only one who hadn't. The odd one out as Wheeler had unhelpfully pointed out.

Violet had supposedly met hers but it was a complete mix up, but she still went ahead and went out with the guy, all because of the constant fighting between her and Eddie.

He lashed out and said stupid things, they broke up and got back together to break up again three weeks later. It was toxic as fuck as Steve pointed out.

Eddie knew that but it was taking him a while to accept that. He didn't believe he would ever meet his soulmate so he spent all of his time with different women, relationships that were eventually doomed to go anywhere (ie. Violet)

He was currently tracking the whereabouts of his flowers and had tracked them to an apartment just a little away from his.

He barely had time to pick them up and get to the restaurant to meet Violet but he was going to try, his phone pings with another voicemail from Violet and he growls in frustration.

Honestly was this really fucking worth all the stress? His mood was growing more and more irritated by the minute, when he finally got to the apartment he was silently fuming.

Jesus h Christ, Violet was going to give him hell. His heart sinks, he really doesn't want to fight again. He was sick of it.

He buzzes the doorbell of the person who took in the flowers, sighs as another voicemail comes through from Violet.

"Eddie Munson, we are through. Fuck you! I'm waiting here like a dumbass and you don't even have the decency to show"

He rubs his head, feels the beginnings of a headache forming and groans. Just what he needs, a migraine to make his day even worse.

"Penny for your thoughts?" He opens his eyes and you're standing watching him, curious and smiling. Wow. He blinks rapidly and his cheeks warm. You were...just wow.

"Uh hi, my flowers were sent here by mistake" he suddenly feels tongue tied. Kinda what he was like in highschool when he met people who he found attractive. Except this was ten times worse.

There's a faint pulse that grows stronger and he realises it's his tattoo, it begins to turn golden and flows brightly.

You come back with the flowers. Gasp, then drop them as you clutch at your wrist. It's like something out of a cheesy movie as you pull up your sleeve and your tattoo is glowing as brightly as Eddie.

Well fuck. You look up at Eddie stunned and beam.

"Well hey there soulmate. Thought you'd never show up" you tease. Any thoughts of reconciliation with Violet completely leaves Eddie's mind. All he wanted to do now was get to know you.

He salvages a rose that hasn't been completely ruined and hands it to you, watches the way your eyes light up and he wants to do that all the time. Watch you smile, get to know you and be with you.

"Hey there, I'm Eddie"

❤️

#eddie munson x you #minors dni #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x soulmate!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson

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bellaxgiornata · 10 months

Text

All These Years [Part 9: "A Truth Revealed"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

[You can find the full series summary and masterlist of installments for All These Years here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut

Word Count: 4.5k

a/n: After the entire fiasco with my cat destroying my previous keyboard, I am pleased to say I managed to buy a new one and still managed to get this up in time to hurt/frustrate you all a little more. We're inching closer to some comfort though! I believe the next installment will be titled "The Weight of Grief" for this series. Enjoy the angst and feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @margoo0 @1988-fiend @lockleywife @strangeobsessed @justalittlebitbored @am-3-thyst @buckybarnes-1917 @thora-jane @lionalsowrites @cloudroomblog @prince-tassel @danzer8705

Curled up on your couch, you were comfortably cocooned in a blanket and completely focused on the book in your hands. Over the last few nights after work you’d been reading it, taking some time to escape into a romance that actually had a happy ending–unlike your love life. You’d been looking forward to having a quiet night in tonight, especially after the long and stressful day you’d had at work.

And also because you’d gotten another call from Matt earlier today.

After the dinner at Matt’s apartment with your friends almost three weeks ago now, you’d really tried to consider what Karen had said. Maybe it was time to try to distance yourself from Matt. If he wasn’t interested in you as more than a friend, you really couldn’t keep torturing yourself over him. You needed to try to move on, to put some space between the pair of you, but you certainly couldn’t do that if you kept jumping at every opportunity to spend time with him. Which is what you’d always done when it came to Matt.

So you’d been distancing yourself from him. Avoiding him lately until you finally thought you might be ready to see him again. You felt bad for doing it though, especially because the calls from him seemed like they’d oddly increased over the past few weeks since that night. You had explained to Foggy and Karen what was going on and what you were doing. The pair of them had been happy to help keep Matt off your back and to keep him from thinking too much into things, though every time his name appeared on your phone screen you felt guilty for all the times you let it go to voicemail. Or the times that you’d lied and told him you were busy and couldn’t talk.

You needed this though. You needed to find a way to let him go before your feelings drove you insane. Because Karen’s question that night had made you suddenly very aware of the fact that you hadn’t been happy for a long time. Not really. You’d been pining after Matt for years now, clutching onto the hope that maybe he liked you, or that maybe someday his feelings for you might change into something more. You’d held onto that hope with a death grip for so long that you’d realized it was gradually dragging you further and further down. And you couldn’t do that to yourself anymore. That other night a few weeks ago, when you’d flirted with Matt and made a complete ass out of yourself only to receive nothing in return from him that even so much as hinted at the fact that he was flirting back, you’d realized that you’d needed to finally release that hold on your hope.

Matthew Murdock was never going to love you as more than a friend.

It was a line you said to yourself almost daily lately. Anytime the feelings would randomly crop up, you repeated that over and over in your head. It was a reminder that you needed to actually try to move forward this time.

Which was why this weekend you were letting one of your coworkers set you up on a blind date. You’d spent this past week trying to get yourself excited about it. Stephanie certainly seemed to think you and this Alexander would be a great match, and apparently he was an incredibly sweet and charming guy. Which was good. You needed to find someone nice. Someone who would be good for you. Alexander wasn’t going to be Matt but you were going to be open-minded when it came to that date.

Another thing you kept repeating to yourself daily lately.

Turning the page of your book, you were so engrossed in it that you almost didn’t hear the noise outside of your window nearby. Except you had. It was a faint, muffled noise that sounded like it came from your fire escape. You lowered your book, eyes narrowing as your head slowly turned towards the window.

Immediately you screamed, your book flying out of your hands and falling to the floor. There were two figures standing on your fire escape right outside of your window–one in all black and the other in red. Both of them had their faces obscured and it took you a moment to recognize the one in black as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, but you didn't recognize the other beside him who looked like they were struggling to hold him up. At least, you didn't recognize them until they'd reached a hand up and slid the mask down their face and leaned forward, knocking on your window.

Your jaw dropped at the sight of Elektra Natchios in the flesh, smirking at you on the other side of your living room window.

"Knock, knock, darling," she called out, voice muted by the glass. "Open up."

You froze on the couch. Letting Elektra into your apartment was the absolute last thing you wanted to ever do. You absolutely loathed her. And you also had no idea why she was toting Hell’s Kitchen's vigilante on her arm, either, but you figured the reason couldn't be good.

"You're not welcome here," you called back, sitting upright on the couch. "We aren't friends, Elektra."

Her face contorted into a look of faux sadness and offense at your words before it quickly returned to its previous smugness. "I don't particularly care what you think of me," she replied, "but I'm sure you wouldn't want your friend here suffering outside in a dumpster."

Your face twisted in confusion as your focus shifted to the masked man clinging to her, his head hanging forward over his chest. He looked like he was in pain from the way he was slumped over. But why would she call him your friend? You'd met him once and you had been drunk–and managed to get even drunker after that encounter. He wasn't exactly your friend.

"I don’t even know him," you shot back, eyeing him through the window. "Take him to a hospital where he can actually get some help."

“Aww,” she cooed through the glass, one hand reaching up towards his black mask. “Are you sure you don’t know him?”

Your mouth opened to once again tell Elektra off, but before the words could even form she’d pulled back the black fabric from the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen’s face. At first all you could see was a mess of dark hair, but then her hand still holding the mask grasped underneath his chin, raising the man’s head up so you could see him better.

You audibly gasped, jaw dropping wide open as you stared at Matt’s face on the other side of the window. For a long moment your brain became entirely devoid of thoughts as you sat on your couch staring at Matt on your fire escape dressed as the masked man.

“Still want to say you don’t know him?” Elektra questioned.

It took you a minute to slightly recover on the couch, your mouth finally closing but your wide eyes still staring in shock at the sight of Matt–the same Matt who you’d drank beers with, the one who you’d shared your insecurities pre-graduation with, who’d cried on your shoulder when he’d told you about his father–as the masked vigilante running around Hell’s Kitchen. The very same one who you’d seen grainy video footage of in the news with superhero-like fighting skills.

“Can you open up already? He’s getting a bit difficult to hold onto,” Elektra called out.

“Matt?” you whispered.

On the other side of the window, you saw Matt’s lips twist into a small, apologetic smile. He nodded his head just once in response.

Still in shock, you unraveled yourself from your blanket and rose from your couch, making your way to the window. You unlocked it, sliding it up and watching as Elektra tried to help Matt through the opening. Reaching out, you grabbed onto Matt’s shoulders and attempted to help her get him inside. Matt’s own hands darted out to grab onto your upper arms in return, groaning as he made his way through the window and into your apartment.

You hadn’t been expecting him to lose his balance though, and he’d stumbled straight into you. You toppled over easily, his body falling with yours and pinning you to the floor beneath him. Matt’s hands had flown out just in time to catch himself so he didn’t fully crush you under his weight, his face hovering just above yours. You could see a few bleeding gashes across his forehead and cheeks as his sightless eyes focused along your right cheekbone, a pained expression on his face.

A plethora of emotions raced through you in that moment. Part of you, a very small part, wanted to lean up and kiss him. You’d never been in such a compromising position with him before, and you certainly wished it was under different circumstances–though you knew you shouldn’t be feeling that way and you quickly tried to divert your thoughts. Especially because this was certainly not the time for those types of thoughts.

For the most part you were hurt and confused, though. Matt had been lying to you all this time about those injuries he’d been getting. He’d been going out and intentionally putting himself into danger. And it hurt you that he’d hid that truth from you, that he didn’t trust you with that information.

But not only that, how the hell did Matt go out blind fighting bad guys like the masked man did? Clearly someone taught him to fight like that, something he’d never told you about before–more secrets he’d been hiding from you. But you knew he was blind, so how could he do the things the masked man did? That you’d seen actual video evidence of? How was that Matt?

And why the hell was Elektra in a similar crime-fighting ensemble? What pieces of the goddamn puzzle had you been missing all along without even knowing it?

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

With a grunt, he pushed himself back onto his knees before Elektra was at his side. She grabbed onto his arm and roughly tugged him up, Matt hissing in pain as she did. You winced at the sound, slowly rising back up from the floor after him.

“He needs somewhere safe to stay while I finish…dealing with some things,” Elektra told you, leading him past you and straight towards your couch. “Your apartment was the closest. And he said he trusted you.”

You stood there gaping at the pair of them as she lowered his battered and bloody body onto your couch. Matt was making noises of discontent as she situated him along it.

“What–what the hell is going on?” you stammered out.

When Matt was settled, Elektra straightened and turned towards you. She exhaled a rough sigh as she eyed you from top to bottom.

“Well darling, your BFF is the masked vigilante roaming the city,” she said. “ Clearly . I thought you’d caught that already, but apparently you’re a little slow, I see.”

“Elektra,” Matt warned through gritted teeth.

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Someone beat him with a metal pipe,” she explained. “Now we’re thinking he’s fractured a rib and he’s honestly quite useless to me like this. So he needs to stay hidden here until he can get his ass home. Think you can manage that, darling?”

Your mouth had dropped open at the mention of a metal pipe and it had stayed that way for the duration of her explanation. Elektra groaned in irritation at the look of shock on your face, her head dramatically falling back over her shoulders as she did.

“He’ll be fine ,” she told you. “Throw a blanket on him and he’ll probably walk it off in the morning.” Attention shifting over her shoulder, she frowned when she glanced at Matt. “And it’s a damn shame I’ll miss seeing your ass walk it off. It’s certainly gotten so much nicer since I’d last enjoyed it. I remember–”

“Enough, Elektra,” Matt snapped.

Heat rose up to your cheeks in a mixture of awkward embarrassment and jealousy at what she was hinting at. But when Elektra’s eyes dropped down to where your book had fallen onto the floor beside the couch, you saw her head tilt curiously to the side, a grin slipping onto her mouth. Embarrassment won out as you watched her bend over and grab the book from the floor, slowly rising back to her full height as she examined it. Her attention slowly shifted back towards you, one of her perfect dark brows arching up on her pretty face.

“Didn’t realize we’d interrupted your fascinating read, darling,” she purred, eyes dropping back down to the book. “Romance novels though?” She tsked, shaking her head. “Doesn’t even look naughty. How positively–” her eyes landed back on you, an amused smile on her lips, “– you .”

“Shut up,” you muttered, heat burning at your cheeks.

“Still in love with your friend?” she taunted. “Love life a mess so you read this trash?”

Your arms crossed awkwardly over your chest, your gaze dropping down to your feet. Tears were threatening to spill out of your eyes at her words. She damn well knew you loved Matt and she was toying with you like it was entertainment to watch you hurting.

“Mmm, I see you’ve never actually told him then,” she continued. “All this time and you couldn’t–”

“ Elektra ,” Matt snapped.

Elektra had actually stopped mid-taunt, her lips thinning at Matt’s harsh tone. Even you’d been surprised at how irritated he’d sounded. Maybe he was finally seeing how rude she’d been to you for once. Though you doubted that would stop him from being with her; you were certain they would be back together if they weren’t already. Even if you knew Elektra would only be toying with him yet again.

“You’re both no fun,” she said with a pout, tossing your book onto the coffee table.

You couldn’t look her in the face as she sauntered past you, tears still welling in your eyes. Blinking hard, you did your best to force them back. You didn’t want to cry in front of her or Matt. You were so tired of the tears.

“Don’t worry about getting up, Matty, darling,” Elektra said, sliding your window up behind you. “I’ll handle this one for you. But you owe me something in return.”

Elektra slipped back out of the window before you heard her slowly sliding it down after herself. Your apartment filled with silence at her absence, Matt’s head shifting towards you on the couch. There was a frown on his lips, his dark brows pulled together in something that wasn’t pain, but you couldn’t quite make out the meaning behind his expression.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your night,” he said softly. “And that you…found out. Like this. About me.”

“What the hell, Matty?” you breathed out. “How long have you been doing this?”

"Around the time Fog and I left Landman and Zack,” he answered.

You ran a hand across your forehead, trying to piece things together as question after question ran through your mind. You almost didn’t even know where to start.

But something in particular surfaced in your mind, panic flooding you.

“So that–that night the man in the mask found me drunk in an alley,” you began slowly, the hazy memory coming back to you as Matt’s expression shifted to something even harder to read. “After I’d found Liam cheating on me. That was…you?”

“Yeah,” he whispered.

You grimaced, remembering how you’d unknowingly and drunkenly spilled your heart out to Matt himself that night. How you'd embarrassingly sobbed on him about being in love with him. Which meant that he knew you loved him, right? And he’d just spent all this time pretending you didn’t, like that moment hadn’t happened because he didn’t feel that way in return?

But of course he didn’t love you because as fuzzy as that night was to you, you remembered the masked man crying to you about loving someone, too. The conversation had been difficult to recall from all the alcohol you’d drank that night, but you remembered he’d been upset about a woman he loved. He must have meant Elektra, you realized.

Because of course he’d still be in love with her, even after she went and broke his heart. And now he finally had her back.

Swallowing the lump forming in your throat, you felt even more inadequate for Matt now. With whatever he was out doing around the city at night, apparently he'd found his match in her. Because you certainly weren't about to go out and play at being a hero with him. That only further cemented how wrong you were for him; you’d never be Elektra.

“If you’ve fractured a rib I should really get you to a hospi–”

“No hospitals,” Matt said earnestly, cutting you off. “I’ll be fine, I just need somewhere to stay until I can heal a bit. If that’s alright? Just–just for the night?”

“Matt,” you began slowly, “if you have a fractured rib, that could take weeks to heal, not one night.”

His lips pulled back into a sheepish smile. “I’m different,” he admitted quietly.

Your head tilted to the side, eyes narrowing back at him curiously. He was different ? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

“Different how?” you asked him.

“I…have heightened senses,” he confessed. “And I was taught a long time ago how to meditate to heal myself faster. So a fractured rib really isn’t that big of a deal to me, but I–I can’t fight like this. And my place was too far from where we were. I just–just needed somewhere safe to rest and heal. But I’m truly sorry for dragging you into all of this.”

“I–”

You stood on the opposite side of your coffee table utterly dumbfounded with this new information about a man you’d thought you’d known for years . Mouth opening and closing a few times, you struggled to figure out how to piece a coherent thought together.

“You–you heal yourself?” you asked in shock.

“Yeah,” he answered.

Another few moments of silence passed, your brain attempting to wrap around that crazy bit of information. But then you remembered the other thing he’d said and a whole wave of new questions rose in your mind.

“What do you mean you have heightened senses?” you asked him nervously.

“I’m still blind, but my other senses are able to pick up on things that others can’t,” he answered.

You sucked in a breath, fear building inside of you. What the hell did that mean?

“Like what?” you hesitantly questioned.

“Well I can hear that your heart rate just elevated even higher than what it had been at after hearing that. I can hear your blood pressure increasing, too,” Matt told you. “And I can smell that your adrenaline and cortisol levels just rose–meaning you’re nervous or afraid.”

You saw the corners of his lips curve downward as he spoke, his focus lowering towards your coffee table. Though at that admission, you felt your own heart rate sky-rocketing. He could read you that well?

“So–so all of your other senses are able to pick up on small details like that?” you questioned.

Matt nodded his head solemnly. “I can hear someone’s heartbeat if I focus. Can even tell when they’re lying to me depending on how it beats,” he explained.

“How long have you been able to do all of this?” you nervously asked.

A sad smile slowly drew his lips upwards at the corner. Despite your panic about everything Matt had probably been picking up on with you for who knows how long now, you wondered how hard it must be to live like that. How much outside stimuli was hitting him all of the time? What all was he experiencing that no one else had to experience?

“Since that accident that blinded me as a child,” he answered quietly. “You remember the one I told you about?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I remember you telling me about it,” you replied. “But how come you didn’t tell me this , Matt?”

“How was I supposed to?” he asked back. “What I can do, it isn’t normal. I’ve always kept it a secret.”

“You don’t think I’d like to know that my best friend can hear my heartbeat? Or smell my–my hormones ?” you asked him. “That you always knew when I was lying? Or–or was afraid? Or whatever the hell else you’ve picked up on from me? This whole time?”

There was not a doubt in your mind now about Matt having known the truth about you at least liking him. Being attracted to him. How could he have not known? If he could hear your heart alone, he’d know it was always racing around him, that he always had an effect on you. But he’d never flirted with you, never taken an interest back in you.

The tears started falling before you could stop them, your hands flying up to your mouth to try to cover the choked sob building in your throat at that realization. The strangled sound still fell out of you despite your efforts to hold it back, though. Matt’s focus immediately shifted to you, something soft and sad reflecting in his own eyes.

“If you can pick up on all of these things happening with someone's body that–that means you’ve known then?” you asked, your voice cracking as more tears fell. “This whole time? That I’ve had feelings for–” you broke off on a strangled sob, unable to just say it.

Matt nodded his head slowly across from you. “Yeah,” he whispered. “I’ve known for a long time, I just–just never said anything.”

Another sob fell out of you before Matt said your name so softly, but the sound of it only drew more tears. He’d always known you loved him then. And he certainly didn’t feel the same.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I do my best to give everyone privacy around me, but some things I can’t help but…pick up on.”

Your tears fell faster now as your hands slid up and you buried your face in them. You didn’t think it was possible to hurt anymore than you did when it came to loving Matt, but you certainly had discovered tonight that you were very, very wrong. Because his admission felt like it had torn your heart straight from your chest before he’d tossed it out of your window straight down to the street below to be repeatedly run over by traffic.

Matthew Murdock was never going to love you as more than a friend. Hadn’t you already been repeating that to yourself lately? Well, how fucking spot on you were.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry, I’m–”

“Who else knows about you?” you asked, cutting him off with your face still buried behind your hands.

You tried your best to ignore the way your heart twisted at the way he'd called you 'sweetheart'. He'd never done that before and now was certainly not the time for him to start.

Matt expelled a rough breath, the sound causing you to peak at him between your fingers. His head had rolled away from you now, his sightless eyes focused on the ceiling of your apartment.

“Foggy found out,” he whispered. “On accident. That’s why we fought and the firm broke up. And uh, Elektra has always known.”

“Of course she has,” you muttered bitterly.

“You’re upset with me,” he pointed out.

You shook your head, rubbing the heels of your hand along your cheeks to try to wipe away the dampness. “I’m not upset at you ,” you told him. “I’m upset that you knew so much about me and I didn’t–didn't know that you did. And that you didn’t tell me all of this back at Columbia, because I’d have wished you’d trusted me enough with this information about yourself.” You inhaled a shuddering breath, that aching, empty feeling in your chest somehow feeling like it was finally consuming you entirely. "And I'm upset that you–you knew . All these years and you've–you’ve always known ."

Matt said your name gently again, but you shook your head quickly, continuing on and trying to force down the tears and the feel of your heart breaking. Matt was hurt and he needed help, that was your focus tonight.

“What do you need from me then, Matt?” you asked, sniffling loudly. “Just a place to crash? Medical help?”

You watched as his eyelids slowly lowered, a frown deepening on his face. “A place to stay for the night so I can heal, yes. And if you could call Fog, ask if he’d bring some of my clothes from my place here. That way I can–can change in the morning before I leave.”

Nodding, you wiped your hand across your cheeks again. It was a moment later that you realized you hadn't spoken.

"Sorry, I nodded," you muttered.

"I know," he whispered. "I could hear the way the molecules in the air shifted when you did."

You winced, suddenly uncertain what all Matt had always known that you weren't aware of. But yet again you tried to focus on your current situation instead. It didn't matter he knew you liked him, he'd always just wanted to be your friend instead. You’d cry about it later, when he wasn’t lying on your couch bleeding.

"I'll go call Fog," you informed him. "Get him to bring over your clothes. You can stay here tonight, Matt. You know I'll always be here for you. I've always told you that." Curling your hands into fists, you tried to stop the way they had begun shaking. "I'm going to get a washcloth, though. To clean your cuts. If that's alright?"

Matt nodded, his head turning as he focused on you across the room again. "Yes," he replied quietly. "Thank you."

Chewing your lip, you turned and headed down the hall to your bathroom. You switched on the light and made your way over to the vanity, bending down and pulling out a clean washcloth from under it. Rising to your feet, you set it on the counter before slipping your phone out of your pocket and dialing Foggy. It took a few rings before he finally answered, and for some reason the sound of his voice greeting you with your name had you crying again.

"Hey, Fog," you said, voice cracking.

"Shit, are you okay?" he asked in a panic. "Did something happen? You sound like you're crying. Why’re you crying?”

Your eyes slowly slid up towards your bathroom mirror, taking in the sight of your red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. You looked awful.

"I know Matt is the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen," you breathed out.

There was a long pause on the line after you'd spoken, the silence eventually broken by Foggy muttering a curse.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"At home. Elektra dropped him off injured on my couch," you told him, your voice breaking as you spoke.

"I'll be right there," he promised.

"He wants you to bring him a change of clothes," you said, watching as more tears slid down your reflection's cheeks.

"I'm on it," he assured you. "But we are definitely talking later when we're out of his hearing range."

"Yeah," you whispered. "We definitely are."

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x f!reader

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freyyzu · 1 year

Text

MEMORIES OF YOU

in a timeline where your presence is lacking, they do everything to keep you beside them.

a/n; i really want to know what the brothers in our current timeline are doing. how are they holding up? sorry for another long post, i felt insane (m;_ _)m. a few of them got a bit out of hand compared to others.

Lucifer plays your voicemails on repeat.

there are times when the workload gets a little bit too much now. lucifer hadn't ever noticed how much he had relied on your presence to soothe him after a stressful day; the shoulder massages and brief kisses, the comforting words, the mere company of you beside him had begun to feel like second nature.

unfortunately, you're no longer here to provide that for him, and neither is he there with you to offer a guiding hand in whatever it is you might be going through right now. the thought that you could be in danger sends a dull ache to his head, and the thought that it could be him being the one harming you is enough for him to put down his pen. no more work will be getting done today.

in moments like these—and he hates to admit they've been frequent—lucifer reaches for his d.d.d. the device feels heavy in his hand, and he has to stop himself from trying to once again call you. instead, he goes for the next closest thing.

"lucifer!" your voice is bright and cheery, it rings out clearly enough that he almost believes you've teleported right next to him. the tension of his shoulders ease as you continue, "i'm really sorry for leaving early today, but i did make breakfast before i left!"

lucifer leans his back against his chair, chuckling at the flustered sound of your delivery. it sounds as if you were running while recording this.

"there should be enough for everyone plus seconds and uh..." he can hear the quiet mumbling of your counting. "tenths for beel! again, i'm really sorry for leaving without all of us getting to eat together. i accidentally left an unfinished project back in the classroom and—oh! there's RAD! i'll see you in a bit, lucifer. tell everyone i said good morning!"

the voice message ends with a click, and he feels like the weight of the entire world is once again stacked upon his shoulders. as it always does.

with anchored fingers, he goes to tap the next voicemail when a knock on his door stops that.

"i'm comin' in," the voice from the other side warns before opening the door. mammon steps inside with a single cup balanced on his hand and places it on lucifer's desk, sparing a glance at the papers strewn across its surface. "still working?"

"it's never really done," lucifer responds, taking a sip from the cup. his eyebrow raises at the flavor. "is this barbatos' tea?"

"not really." mammon reaches out to sort the files into a neater pile. "i asked him to teach me in exchange for helpin' with castle cleanup."

it's the second time today lucifer's shoulders relax. "thank you, mammon."

Mammon fills his room with trinkets.

it's hard to keep mammon from spending all his grimm without you there to stop him anymore. for a while, the habit had dampened with your absence, and his brothers had wondered if he would drop it all together until you were back. that thought lasted all but two weeks.

when he had started back up again it was his usual treks—gambling at the casino, buying luxury items he had no real need for, spending it on bets he was sure to lose—and then they shifted.

there's a pile of boxes and paper bags settled carefully inside the seats of his car—the safest area of his room. they range from big to small, all designed and painted with different colors and patterns. a few of the logos and brands repeat, and asmo is the first to take notice that they're all from the stores that you like to visit.

it's somewhere near high noon when mammon leaves the house of lamentation and late evening when he comes back home.

he lets out a silent thanks that his brothers aren't around right now. or maybe they've gotten used to his schedule for the past couple of days and have decided to give him the privacy he needs. whatever the case may be, he's grateful there's no one at the entrance to chide him again.

kicking the door closed with his foot, mammon does his best to not let the multiple shopping bags hanging on for dear life in his hands slip.

it's almost like clockwork, the way his feet leads him to your room first, as they always do. he spares only a moment to take a look around. many of the things he's bought have been tucked securely in his room, but there are times, like today, where he just wants to show them off.

"Didja know Beel keeps comin' in here to eat his snacks lately? I bought a candle to clear out the air." true to his word he pulls out a candle in an intricately designed glass jar, scented in your favorite fragrance.

though it doesn't stop there, and soon your entire table is filled to the brim with different items.

mammon takes a look at everything he's bought once before pulling out a lighter and flicks it on. a mild, familiar scent fills the air, and he hates to admit it's the most calm he's felt in weeks.

Leviathan can't stop updating you.

if there's one thing that hasn't changed, it's the frequency of your texts with levi—or more accurately, levi's texts with your d.d.d. even if it's for the most mundane thing, he doesn't hesitate to whip out the mobile device and let his fingers fly across the keypad.

no one tells him to put his phone down anymore during their meals together, and even the pit pat of the letters being pressed feels more like comforting ambient noise now. the new normal in lull of conversation topics.

sometimes, there's nothing for him to talk about. times where he doesn't leave his room, where he isn't playing a game, or watching a new anime, or reading the latest manga volume release despite the media being right at his fingertips. the house of lamentation feels like it becomes empty during those days, but he doesn't want to tell you that.

levi finds that his bathtub becomes more comforting as every day passes by. the small, slightly confined space that hugs at him from both sides feels reassuringly warm with the blankets and pillows he's stuffed in there.

still, even as he shifts into a more relaxing position, nothing beats the joy he feels tapping away at his d.d.d.

he hasn't left his room for the past five days for anything other than the usual family meals, and even the games that usually pull him in no longer grab his attention. the only thing that does is the device settled within his hands, the dim glow it admits being the only thing he can focus on.

[ have you eaten yet? if not you better get to it, beel's been clearing out the fridge so fast lately i don't even bother going to the kitchen anymore. it's straight to the store for me LOL. ]

[ there's a new anime that's releasing soon. it's based off a manga about two twins that fall from the sky and end up saving the nation that raises them. i hear it's a real tear-jerker! i'll wait until you get back though so we can watch it together. ]

eventually, even levi runs out of things to talk about, and so he reluctantly marks the end of the the conversation with a goodbye.

[ talk to you soon, i'm going to pass out. sleep well when you do! ]

he does his best to ignore the fact that the messages aren't sending.

Satan sees your name in every word.

in the beginning, satan goes through every tome within every library the devildom has to offer. there must be a way to get you back from where you've disappeared to. and while he trusts solomon to keep you safe, he wants nothing more than to be there to guarantee that safety, or better yet—not have you disappear at all.

still, after turning every archive upside-down and over, satan resigns that there's nothing more he can do but to trust the sorcerer. but he can't; the thoughts of his years right after the celestial war ended haunt him and he fears that if anyone was to jeopardize your safety the most, it would be him.

and so he throws himself into his pastime. yet even then, his eyes can only skim the pages, the words nary processing in his mind. how could they, when every term, every phrase reminds him of you?

satan's hope of losing himself within the world of a story doesn't go as planned. it hasn't been going as planned for the past couple weeks.

the spine of a book cracks open, and the coffee-stained colored pages are flipped. his finger slides over the finely inked words, and then pause just minutes in when he realizes he hasn't retained a single thing he read.

rinse and repeat, the same old pattern.

frustrated, he snaps the cover closed, the force of his action loud enough to be heard by anyone who would pass by his door.

the protagonist of the book he had picked up was described as kind and forgiving. they would brighten up every room they entered and had as much fear in their body as they had caution—which was little to none. they face many trials to bring happiness to those they love all without a care for their own well-being. satan sighs, curling in on himself from his seated position.

a strained laugh nearly leaves his throat, but he holds back. of course he would gravitate towards this book with a description like that.

with a heavy heart it tucks it back ontop of the pile of other unfinished tomes—the height of it becoming increasingly worrying—and hopes that the ending is a happy one.

Asmodeus can't stop talking about you.

without your presence, asmo delves himself deep into his social circles. it takes his mind off of how concerned he is about your well-being; he doesn't need to keep himself awake thinking on how much he misses you or how you might be missing him and the rest of his brothers.

well, at least he thinks he's taking his mind off of things. it's hard for anyone to put a word in once asmo starts opening his mouth, especially when the only thing that leaves from his parted lips every other sentence is your name.

if it wasn't evident in his conversations then it's evident in the way his shampoo has been swapped out for a fragrance you had always been more privy to, or the way his style has slightly shifted towards what style you like to wear. he picks up your habits like it's his own even if he doesn't notice it.

"oh, you'll never believe what they did next!" asmo laughs, his sing-song voice ringing above even the loud blasting of music from the party speakers.

one of the demons closest to him leans in closer, a sparkle in her eyes as she continues listening to his story. a story that he's been telling for the past two hours since they sat down. "what happens next?" she pries, genuinely curious.

the stories continue on for the rest of the night, until the music dies down and the crowd thins out. the female demon is still by asmo's side, a yawn leaves her lips and he mimics the notion.

asmo blinks, eyes trailing to the watch she wears loosely around her wrist. "oh! i didn't realize it was so late, sorry to keep you here for so long."

"not at all!" she smiles, waving her hand. "thank you for telling me such interesting stories! it's the most fun i've had this week. it's obvious you must care for this person a lot."

it's only when she says that does asmo realize you were the only topic of his conversation this entire night. a smile creeps to his lips before he can help it. it's the first time in a long while that he's thought of you without fearing about how you might be doing.

because it's you. and you're always getting out of every situation the world throws you in.

Beelzebub gravitates towards the food you eat.

alongside belphie, beel—like everyone else—makes regular visits to your room. it becomes his primary hangout spot now outside of his own shared bedroom and so the snack stash that you usually keep in a drawer under your desk has recently expanded.

it practically bursts at some points from how much he tries to stuff in there on some days, but it's always empty again by the end of the week. sometimes he finds items that he didn't buy settled on the top of the rest snacks, though they always seem to be foods that you enjoyed nibbling on.

he misses the food that you used to cook for everyone at the house of lamentation, and no matter how good simeon's cooking might be, it just isn't the same. still, he does his best to replicate it sometimes. maybe by the time you get back he can surprise you with a home-cooked meal... if he doesn't eat it first.

it's usually mammon or asmo that walks through the doors with half a dozen bags grasped in white knuckled grips, not beel, but here he is. in contrast to his older brothers, though, beels bags aren't filled with clothing or make-up, but food.

"are you sure you don't need help with that?" belphie asks, a little more than concerned at how even with how wide the doors are to the house of lamentation he was barely able to fit through the opening.

"it's fine," beel shakes his head. "this is nothing."

they make their trek to the kitchen with little difficulty. as beel said, those bags really did feel like they weighed nothing. "what do you think we should try making?"

"hmm," beel looks over their ingredients. they hadn't really thought that far ahead. whatever was on sale, they bought. "how about shadow pork ragu pasta?"

thankfully, with belphie's ability to keep himself conscious, he helps beel from continuously 'taste testing' their creation. it goes well until they're half-way through and the door opens, a head of blonde hair popping inside.

"i thought i smelled something here, what are you two doing? it's not your turn tonight for dinner duty." one look at the dish they're making though and satan gives a nod of understanding. it's the dish you had made for belphegor some time ago. "need some help?"

satan's help is very much needed as belphie was on his last winks and that meant there would be no one to keep beel in check either. by the time the pasta was finished there's five-too-many more servings than intended on the counter and four more demons surrounding it.

seems like they won't be having dinner in the dining hall today.

Belphegor takes your room as his own.

there's no other room in the house of lamentation that's as comforting as yours—that's simply a unanimous fact. and with the absence of your presence now, it's also the only place belphie can go to feel the closest to you.

he spends more time in your room now than he does in his shared room with beel and the attic combined. there are days where mammon sneaks inside during the night only to already find the twins loitering around, laying on your bed or sitting at the table having a snack (or at least, beel's definition of a snack).

while belphie admits he likes the time he spends in your room alone, he feels more at peace when his brothers decide to join as well, uninvited or not. it makes the days feel like they've gone back to normalcy, when you're still here and they can just relax in each other's company.

"mammon stop clinging to me, dammit! you're the one who wanted to watch a horror movie!" levi pulls away from his older brother as much as possible, holding a container of popcorn above his head to prevent it from spilling all over the floor and dirtying your carpet.

satan's groans are louder than any of their yelling, "quiet down! i can't focus on what the characters are saying! and beel your chewing too loud!"

"sorry," comes the prompt reply followed by even more chewing.

asmo leans his back on the bed frame, head tilting to the side in order to get a better view of belphie's face under the dim light of the monitor. "having fun?"

"what do you think?" he groans, pushing his head further into your pillow.

and while belphie can't see the expression asmo makes, he has a good prediction that he's grinning. "i think you're having fun. after all, you haven't kicked any of us out yet."

"it's not my room," he replies.

"but you know everyone would gladly leave if it meant you felt more comfortable."

the youngest brother turns his back. "you guys are too loud, i'm going to sleep."

"yes, yes, sleep well, belphie," asmo quips. "have nice dreams."

and he does.

even over the loud noises of his brothers yelling and the muffled sounds coming from the speakers of the tv, belphie finds that he hasn't fallen into a sleep this deep since you disappeared. and while morning comes eventually, he treasures the dream with you in it for as long as he can.

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