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#(I got it when I was in high school. I think I discovered him because a webcomic I liked mentioned his old band International Orange.)
eddiethefreakkmunson · 5 months
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Make You Mine | Remastered
I have been remastering a bunch of my oldest fics slowly on nights where my brain is struggling to find the words for any new fics - This one was one of the first requests I ever got and remains one of my favourite that I’ve written so far so when I got a really nice comment on it not long ago I knew it had to be the next one I gave a glow up 💕
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Summary: You and Eddie have been friends with benefits for too long and you are ready to make things official, he is very protective of you and can't bring himself to make you his because of what other people think of him. When you agree to go on a date with King Steve he decides to make sure everyone knows you are taken.
Word Count: 6.1k
Content Warnings: 18+ only, Smut, PIV (unprotected), Oral (male receiving), Jealous/possessive Eddie with a fluffy love confession ending, no use of Y/N
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It was fast approaching the one year anniversary of the day you gathered the courage to approach Eddie Munson at the lone picnic table hidden in the woods behind Hawkins High. The festering ball of anxiety in your chest brought on by finals had hit an all time high, so your friend had suggested you pay a visit to the school’s designated dealer and purchase something which would help take off the edge. You couldn’t deny that Eddie made you nervous, you’d not had much interaction with him before but from your observations he was loud, outspoken and unapologetically weird. You weren’t scared of him like most people but you had no idea how to initiate a conversation with him. After biting the bullet you discovered quickly you had been worrying about nothing, in fact you regretted not talking to him sooner. 
“I didn’t know you were cool,” he had teased when you had complimented the patches he had obviously hand sewn to his vest by himself. The two of you hit it off immediately, quickly realising you had a lot more in common than you originally thought. You had ended up sitting at that table with him for over an hour, losing track of time while you jabbered about your favourite music. He even invited you to watch him play at The Hideout with his own band the following Tuesday, an invite which you eagerly accepted. Eventually you realised that your parents would be starting to worry about you not being home yet and you reluctantly said your goodbyes.
The weed served its intended purpose and you passed your finals with flying colours. You graduated first try but unfortunately the same could not be said for Eddie, he had to repeat his senior year again. Not having your future fully figured out just yet you decided to stay in Hawkins for a while after graduation, you got a job in town and even though you didn’t need its aid anymore you continued to buy from Eddie. If you were being honest with yourself, you just really really enjoyed his company. A few times before your finals you had paid him a visit and bought more before you had smoked your way through the previous bag just because you had heard a new song or watched a new movie which you knew he would like, but you weren’t sure how to approach him outside the little bubble you created while alone with him in the woods. On your last visit to him before graduation you asked for his number, “for business purposes obviously”. 
No longer being able to see each other at school meant that you had to arrange to meet Eddie at his trailer. The first night you knocked on his door you immediately made yourself at home as you settled back into his old, worn down couch. The night started out how your meetings with him usually went, you caught up on how your days had been and he made you laugh like no other. Eventually you completed the business element of your visit with ease only this time, he asked you to stay and smoke with him a while. You agreed, it was a Friday night after all and you had nowhere else to be. Your conversations with Eddie had always bordered on the flirtatious side, there was an obvious mutual attraction between the two of you but as of yet neither of you had been brave enough to cross that line. This night however, in the dimly lit living room of his cosy trailer with his stereo playing softly in the background there was an entirely different vibe lingering in the air. Every slight brush of his fingers against yours was electrified times ten as you ever so slowly edged closer to each other on the couch. It was you who made the first move, the moment Eddie’s hand came to rest on your thigh a little too high up to be considered friendly you caved. 
You moved fast, placing a quick peck on his cheek just to test the waters. You wanted to be able to walk away with your dignity if the weed had you reading all of his signals wrong. Eddie grabbed your chin before you had the chance to fully pull away from him, holding you in place so he could crush his lips to your own. You whined into his mouth when he wasted no time deepening the kiss, his strong hands gripping your hips to drag you across his lap to straddle him. You utterly melted into each other, a desperate tangle of messy whimpers and hands exploring every inch of newly available skin.
Your clothes felt suffocating, each offending garment was ripped away in a frenzy. Your lips only broke apart to gasp as your bodies finally joined. You barely allowed yourself a second to adjust to the intrusion before you were bouncing up and down his aching length, clinging to each other as you went hurtling towards the precipice of your releases. After being unable to get him off your mind since you walked out of his trailer this happily became part of your routine. You had shown up at his door just three nights later, he made some joke about you becoming a “weedhead” but you had just cut him off with a kiss even more desperate than the last time you were there.
You and Eddie had now been fucking for months and while your relationship hadn’t changed much your feelings for him most certainly had. You were absolutely head over heels in love with him. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes every time you thought about how cliche it was. You could pinpoint the exact moment you realised it too, it was a mere few weeks after you had started sleeping together. Eddie had asked what time you would be at his place but you told him you would have to give it a miss, you had just gotten your period that morning and didn’t feel up to your usual activities. That night he had scaled the side of your house with a movie from Family Video and a carrier bag full of snacks he had picked up at the gas station.
“I realised I don’t know what your favourite snacks are yet so I just got one of everything,” he explained after tumbling ungracefully through your window.
“Eddie, I told you we couldn’t do anything tonight,” you sighed feeling a little awkward that he had already driven across town for you. 
“You said you didn’t wanna do our usual Friday night, doesn’t mean we can’t hang out,” he shrugged.
“You wanna just hang out with me?”
Eddie frowned at you like you had just asked the most ridiculous question in the world as he popped the copy of Halloween into your VCR and picked up your fuzzy blanket from the end of your bed.
“Why wouldn’t I wanna hang out with you?” he scoffed, wrapping the blanket snugly around your shoulders. 
You stared up at him dumbfounded. You’d had actual boyfriends who had never even come to your house without expecting some sort of sexual favour and here was your friend with benefits, rubbing circles on your lower belly in an effort to soothe your cramps while he force fed you peanut butter cups. 
You knew after that night you were a total goner for him. Little did you know Eddie was also in love, in fact it was obvious to everybody around him except you. He’d never told his friends the nature of your relationship but it was clear in the way he never stopped talking about you, he didn’t even seem to realise he was doing it half the time. Even Wayne had picked up on it, he had no idea who you were but he was curious to find out more about the girl his nephew now spent most of his free time with. One evening, a few of the boys from Hellfire were hanging out at the trailer whilst Wayne was in the kitchen packing his things together to head out to work, when your name cropped up in conversation once again he couldn’t resist prying just a little.
“So who is the mysterious girl?” he asked. 
Eddie was silent whilst he carefully considered how to answer the question. He couldn’t call you his girlfriend, although neither of you were seeing other people you had never officially declared this a relationship. He knew how his friends were treated in school and around town just for being associated with him and he wasn’t prepared to be the reason your name got dragged through the mud as well. He definitely couldn’t call you his fuck buddy in front of his uncle. That also felt a little disrespectful anyway, there was nothing casual about his feelings for you. Which was also the reason it felt wrong to simply call you his friend. He started to panic as all eyes were fixated on him awaiting his answer. 
“She’s a customer,” he blurted out, of course you were so much more than that but he technically wasn’t lying. 
“You fucking all your customers?” Gareth quipped, Wayne’s eyebrows shot up in question as the rest of the boys snickered at the gibe.
Eddie felt the heat creep up his neck and scowled at Gareth. He turned on his heel to try and unconvincingly tell his uncle that his friends were just messing around but Wayne clapped him on the back before he had the chance to speak.
“I don’t need to know everything that goes on when I’m not here Ed,” he chuckled, stepping past him on his way out of the trailer. “Just keep it in the bedroom alright, I don’t wanna come home early one night and have us both scarred for life.” 
Eddie scratched the back of his neck sheepishly as he watched him leave, he could count four places in this room alone that he’d had you bent over without even turning his head. To his relief the guys let the topic drop pretty quickly after that and Eddie didn’t mention your name for the rest of night. If his friends had guessed that there was something going on between the two of you then surely others had noticed. He decided not to dwell on it, pushing it to the back of his mind until the approaching weekend. 
Steve Harrington was throwing a party and he knew you were going to be there. Eddie was never specifically invited to these types of things but he would still usually show up to conduct business. Whilst no one exactly wanted him there he had never yet been asked to leave, it was funny how people seemed to forget about how much of a ‘freak’ he was when he had something that they wanted. 
When you first spotted him among the sea of people you vaguely recognised from school he was standing with his back to you, your stomach fluttered with excitement as the Dio patch came into view. The music was loud enough that you knew he wouldn’t hear you approaching. Sneaking up behind him as cautiously as you could, you quickly reached your arms out to pinch him on either side of his waist. 
“BOO!” You shouted directly into his ear, laughing when his entire body jolted an inch off the wooden floors with fright.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he clutched at his chest as he swung round to meet your delighted face, once the shock had worn off and his brain processed that it was only you he joined you in laughing.  “You tryna kill me sweetheart?”
“Noooo,” you purred, moving in closer to him, your hands slid their way under his t-shirt to graze delicately across the skin of his hip bones. Leaning up on your tip-toes you positioned your lips right next to his ear so he would hear you clearly over the music, “But you know that I love making you scream.”
His eyes darkened at your suggestive tone and he couldn’t help the grin widening across his cheeks. His smile was short lived however, faltering when he glanced up and noticed several of your peers watching you intently. Some wore expressions of disgust, others crouched together and whispered god only knows what about the two of you. All he could think about was the awful things they were probably saying about you for the way you were touching him right now. He gently took hold of both of your wrists which had trailed their way up his chest to gently pull them away from him. 
“Seriously Eddie?” You scoffed, tired of this routine. “We’re still doing this?” 
He sighed and tipped his head back, he tried to think of the right words to say that would make you understand he wasn’t trying to be a dick. 
“It’s for the best,” he murmured softly. “You know everyone is watching you right?” 
“You think I give a shit? Eddie, I never even see most of these people, I really don’t ca-“ 
“I care,” he interrupted you, he noticed one of his regulars lingering in the doorway and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Look I’m sorry but I’ve got business to do, I’ll call you later okay?”
He stepped around you in the direction of his waiting customer, not missing the hurt expression flash behind your eyes as he passed. He lifted his hand to stroke your arm in a silent apology but you flinched away from his touch. The rejection made his stomach sink but that was something he would have to fix later, right now it was probably for the best that you were angry at him. 
You desperately needed a drink. You loved Eddie but you were getting tired of this game. If he didn’t want a relationship with you that was fine, it would break your heart to end what you had going on with him but you would learn to live with it. What you were sick of was his reluctance to have any interaction with you in public. You knew it wasn’t because he was embarrassed of you, you were very aware of the depth of Eddie’s insecurities. Despite how outwardly confident he appeared you knew it was an act to cover up the toll years and years of bullying from not only kids, but fully grown adults had taken on his self esteem. He was just being protective of you, he didn’t want the cruel comments and icy glares to slowly dull your brightness, you were his sunshine on a rainy day. At the end of the day you really didn’t care what anyone thought, you wanted to protect Eddie just as much as he wanted to protect you. 
You stopped in the kitchen and rifled through the selection of cans and liquor bottles, trying to decide which appealed to you most when you felt another presence behind you. Turning round you came face to face with the one and only former King Steve. You hadn’t seen him since graduation but you’d heard rumours that he’d failed to get into college and was forced to get a shitty job at the ice cream parlour in Starcourt Mall. You couldn’t really say anything though, your situation was pretty similar. The only difference was that you’d chosen not to leave. You indulged in conversation with Steve since he wasn’t being the complete asshole you once remembered him to be, you were actually finding him surprisingly easy to talk to. A little similar to the way you had been surprised the first time you spoke to Eddie.
In the distance over Steve’s shoulder Eddie came into view, his face had set into a deep scowl as he watched the two of you get along like a house on fire. You had ended up sitting on top of the kitchen island, Steve slowly moving forward the longer you talked until he was standing right between your open legs. Eddie was not at all happy with how cosy you looked, it was driving him crazy that you weren’t pushing this guy away and he was dying to know what you were whispering about that required your faces to be so close. Stalking his way into the kitchen he hovered around the island, casually picking up various drinks and pretending to read the labels while he was really just staring straight through them.
“Listen, I know we never really spoke much in school but ugh - I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go out sometime?” Steve asked you hopefully. 
You considered saying no, it would be the right thing to do. While you were rather enjoying the attention you were getting from someone who had been so unobtainable in high school, you had no intention of it going any further, not when you were positively obsessed with the sweet metalhead who was currently burning a hole through a bottle of vodka with his eyes. It was obvious he was listening to you, his brow furrowed in a deep frown. Desperate to find out for sure if his feelings really ran as deep as yours, you decided there and then to use the situation to your advantage. 
“Like a date?” you grinned, a hand coming to rest on top of his where it inched steadily closer to your outer thigh. “I’d love to.”
The slam of a glass bottle against the kitchen counter so hard you’re surprised it didn’t shatter made you both jump out your skin. When you turned to look at Eddie it was as if you felt your heart physically splitting into two. The hurt was set deep between his beautiful chocolate eyes which shone wide at your betrayal. Nobody spoke, Steve glanced between the two of you looking utterly confused while you and Eddie locked eyes silently. Eventually he shook his mop of messy curls with a loud scoff, turning on his heel and storming straight out the front door.
“Jeez - You know what that was about?” Steve asked with an awkward chuckle. 
You struggled to answer him with the lump that had formed in your throat, Eddie had looked so hurt and it was your fault. You never wanted to be the reason he was hurting. 
“I’m sorry, fuck I’m sorry,” you sighed defeated. “I shouldn’t have said yes to you, that wasn’t fair. I was just trying to make him jealous.”
“Munson?” He laughed, the clear disbelief in his voice sparked your protective streak. 
“Yes, Eddie,” you snapped defensively. “I don’t know what you think you know about him but he’s actually pretty great, more than that he-“
“Hey, hey, hey now I wasn’t judging,” Steve held his hands up to stop you mid rant, you glared at him like you didn’t believe him. “Seriously. I don’t have an issue with him, he’s like Henderson’s new hero or something, it’s pretty annoying actually. So what, are you like, together?”
“Yeah well no, it’s complicated,” you weren’t about to tell someone you’d barely ever spoken to all the details of your relationship with Eddie but you felt like you owed him at least a partial explanation. “I wanna be, but I might have just really fucked it up.” 
“Are you kidding? That was perfect, did you see the look on his face?” You stayed quiet and waited for him to elaborate. “You wanted to make him jealous right? Well let me tell you he’s for sure gonna be thinking about this all night. I can help you out if you want?”
“How?” You asked a little warily.
“Go out with me. I won’t try anything, I promise,” He held his hands up in defence when you opened your mouth to argue. “Just friends. We can see a movie, grab some food, indulge in pleasant conversation, yada yada yada. It’ll be fun.”
You considered his offer for a moment. You could decline, go running after Eddie and pray that you could just erase tonight and go back to normal. But going back to normal meant you’d go back to secrecy, go back to not being entirely happy. Maybe your little scheme would work and Eddie would confess his love and you’ll live happily ever after. Or maybe you’ll destroy it all and he’ll never speak to you again but then at least you could try and move on, you couldn’t wait for him forever. 
“Just friends?”
“Purely platonic,” He assured. “But Munson doesn’t have to know that right?”
So you agreed to the fake date with Steve, he was taking you to Enzos the following weekend. Despite not hearing from Eddie once throughout the week you still showed up at his trailer on Friday night as normal. There was a moment when you weren’t sure he was going to let you in, but after a tense few seconds of silence he had stepped aside so you could enter. He wasn’t as talkative as usual, there was a charged vibe in the air that wasn’t the kind you were used to. He wasn’t making you feel totally unwelcome, but there was definitely certain hostility about him tonight. He didn’t want to smoke but still offered to roll you one, you accepted instantly hoping it might help you relax. 
He had a movie playing in the background, some predictable slasher you had never even heard of but neither of you were paying much attention to it anyway. You could feel his eyes boring into you as your own stayed fixed on the tv without really seeing the pictures on the screen. It took Eddie a whole hour before he could work up the courage to ask you about your date. You told him Steve planned to pick you up and take you to dinner at Enzos, you even told him you were looking forward to it. You watched his jaw tighten and his left eye twitch, subtle but noticeable. He wore a look that you couldn’t quite decipher, still staying uncharacteristically quiet while he plucked at the tab on the can of beer he had been sipping from. Suddenly feeling intimidated under his scorching gaze you returned your focus to the tv screen, squirming awkwardly in your seat as you felt him continue to watch you. 
You felt him shifting beside you, he placed his beer on the coffee table and leaned over to brush your hair over your shoulder, a shiver ran down your spine as he gently tucked the strands behind your ear. His lips pressed a feather light trail of kisses from the base of your neck up to your ear, snagging the lobe between his teeth as he gently bit down. 
“Eddie!” You gasped, “What’re you doing?” 
“What we do every Friday,” he sneered against your skin before latching onto the pulse point in your neck. You moaned audibly and tried to turn your face towards him, the urge to kiss him consuming all other thoughts. His ring clad fingers gripped your jaw and twisted your head the opposite way to expose more of your throat, his lips working relentlessly against the tender flesh. That’s when it hit you, was he trying to mark you? The realisation sent a thrill straight to your pussy as he continued his attack. 
“Eddie, pleeease,” you sighed breathlessly, he used his hold on your jaw to bring your eyes towards him. 
“Oh Eddie pleeeease,” he mocked you, his lips forming an exaggerated pout. “What does my girl need hmm?” 
You didn’t miss the emphasis when he said my girl. You whined as his fingers squeezed your cheeks together forcing you to wear a pout that matched his own. He hovered so close you could feel his heavy breaths fan across your lips, you tried closing the gap but he held you firmly in place. 
“My girl’s so fucking needy huh?” He tutted, his tongue darted out to swipe over your lower lip before biting down harshly and tugging. You whimpered pathetically and leaned your forehead against his, you were grateful when didn’t hold you back this time. He moved his hand from your jaw to weave his fingers into your hair, his other one mirroring on the opposite side and crushed his lips to yours in the kiss you were craving so badly. 
Your own hands found purchase on his waist, you tried to guide him backwards so that he was lying on the couch but he quickly broke away from the kiss with a shake of his head. He was the one calling the shots tonight, he needed to be the one in control. He kept his hands planted on either side of your face and pulled you to stand up with him. Diving back in to continue his assault on your lips he walked you backwards to his bedroom, not even stopping when you lost your footing and stumbled slightly. Once you were in his bedroom he paused for a second to kick his door closed, remembering Wayne’s previous warning about coming home early. 
He pushed you hard enough that you would fall backwards if you weren’t expecting it and you tumbled backwards onto his bed. He crawled after you, pouncing as soon as your body hit the mattress. Wedging himself between your open legs he braced himself on his forearms to hover over you. Your skirt was bunched up around your waist, the thin cotton of your panties meant that you could clearly feel how hard his cock was through his black sweatpants while he was grinding down against your heat. You bucked your hips up to meet his and moaned again, you just couldn’t get enough of him.
“Touch me, please,” you begged him pitifully. “I need you, Eddie.”
“Oh, you need me do you?” He growled against your collarbone, his teeth nipping at your skin. “Didn’t seem that way last week, did it princess?”
“No I do- fuck- Eddie I do, I need you,” you threw your head back, your spine arching as you pushed yourself further into his touch. 
He encouraged you to lean up so he could rip your shirt up over your head, tossing it hastily to the side. Both of his hands palmed your breasts roughly over the material of your bra as he continued to roll his hips against you at a steady pace. 
“Make me believe it,” he grunted, his dark tone sending a second shiver down your spine. 
Reaching behind you you unclasped your bra, eager to feel the warmth of his palms directly on your skin. He returned only one hand to your breast, a soft cry falling from your lips as he pinched your nipple between his thumb and middle finger. His other hand lifted your skirt to trace a line up and down your slit, a smirk graced his face when he felt the wet patch that had already soaked through the thin material. 
“That’s a good start,” he snarled, pushing his thumb against your clit in aggravatingly slow circles. You reached outward to cup him through his sweatpants, his hips instinctively bucking into your palm. 
You tugged on the hem of his shirt, a signal for him to remove it. He took the hint and pulled it up over his head. Your mouth watered at the sight of the happy trail disappearing down beneath his sweats, you leaned up to frantically press kisses along the soft curls. Hooking your fingers into his waistband you yanked the sweats down over his hips. His cock sprang upwards smacking lightly against his stomach, wrapping your fist around him where he bobbed in front of your face you then flattened your tongue against his skin, eagerly licking away the glistening streak of precum painted across it. 
“Mmmm, oh there’s my girl,” he gasped, taking your face between his hands, his touch more tender than it had been before. “You gonna take my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours? Prove just how much you need me, huh?” 
You looked up at him, eyes wide and hungry with lust, he chuckled softly as your head nodded rapidly. You held his cock as he guided your face towards him, you licked a stripe along the underside from base to leaking tip before taking him fully into your mouth. His grip moved from your cheeks into your hair, pulling it back out of your face and twisting it into a ponytail around his fist so he could control your movements. He tugged at your hair experimentally and you moaned again, his eyes fluttered closed as the vibrations from your throat shooting straight along his length. 
“Look at me,” he demanded, you shifted your gaze up to his face obediently, bobbing your head as far as it would go before triggering your gag reflex. “Oh good girl. My good. Fucking. Girl.” 
He clenched his jaw and breathed deeply through his nose. He was trying to concentrate on not blowing his load too quickly but staring into your pretty eyes as you almost choked on his dick was bringing him swiftly to his release.  
You watched him close his eyes again and throw back his head. His brow furrowed as he fought to keep control but the occasional whimper escaped his lips, he sounded so perfect it was making your pussy clench needily around nothing. You loved looking at him like this, he was so unbelievably beautiful. You couldn’t believe how lucky you were that you were the one that got to see him this way, that got to touch and worship his body this way. Eddie’s mind was starting to wander as he tried to focus on anything but your lips wrapped around his cock. His brain flashed with images of you on your back, your face screwed up as you cried out in pleasure. Only it wasn’t his name you were chanting, it was Steve’s. Rage bubbled up in his chest and his eyes snapped open to look back down at you, you could see the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing had deepened sharply. 
“I need to be inside you,” his voice came out as a tremble that made your heart skip a beat. “Fuckin’ aching for you, sweetheart.”
Releasing him from your mouth with a pop you rose on your knees to his height, your lips colliding with his in a frenzied kiss, his tongue dipping inside to taste himself. You locked your fingers in his curls and pulled just as he had done to you, revelling in the whine you elicited from him. He reached behind you to unzip your skirt and let it fall over your hips. Momentarily breaking away from him you scooted back  to lay against his pillows, watching as he kicked his sweatpants the rest of the way down his legs and discarded them with the rest of your clothes. He hurriedly ripped your panties down your legs, quickly crawling over you to reattach his lips to yours. 
His fingers reached down to stroke through your folds, soaking the digits with your slick to make sure you were ready for him, you mewled at his touch, 
“Please Eddie-  Eddie I gotta feel you, all of you.” 
“I know, I know sweetheart, I gotta feel you too” he rested his forehead to yours and you both looked down where he was lining himself up with your entrance, you felt all of the air leave your lungs as you watched him slowly disappear inside of you.
Eddie softly grunted as he bottomed out, his eyes screwed shut from the feeling of you clenching him so tightly. He peppered your face with kisses as he started to move, setting a steady pace that had your toes curling each time he brushed against your special spot. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and breathed in your scent, his stomach fluttering as all of his senses were consumed by you. Mine, mine, mine, he repeated in his head like a mantra. Except he couldn’t call you his, not truly and it was killing him. 
You could tell he was still hurting from the way he was clinging to you, fingers digging into your hips so hard they would surely leave bruises, the metal of his rings leaving imprints on your skin. Your little game had gone on long enough, he needed to know how you really felt about him, that he had nothing to worry about cause there wasn’t a single person in the world that could possibly compare to him. You used your grip on his hair to pull him away from your neck, your nose brushing delicately along the bridge of his as you whispered against his lips. 
“I won’t go,” his quickening pace faltered at your words, his eyes narrowing in question. “The date. I don’t wanna go.” 
Eddie sucked in a shaky breath as he tried to not show how relieved he was at your confession. He hadn’t fucked it all up, he still had a chance to make you his. He captured your lips in a searing kiss as he drove his hips into yours again, the pace he set even faster than the previous. Your arms fly around his shoulders as he moves his upwards to encircle your back, both of you clutching at each other as if your lives depended on it. 
“I love you,” he can’t stop the words tumbling from his mouth, having been on the tip of his tongue for so long now it felt so exhilarating to finally say them out loud. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” 
“Fuck- fuck I love you too,” your eyes sparkled as your feelings of adoration became overwhelming. “Eddie I love you so fucking much.”
His hips were starting to stutter now, feeling him getting close and wanting to finish with him you reached one hand down to play with your clit. He’s fucking you harder than he ever has before, you felt the stirring in your lower stomach grow stronger by the second, your walls starting to contract.
“S’too much, oh you feel so good,” you cried out as his cock continuously hit that spot inside you that made you see stars. 
“You gonna cum baby?” He whined, it was taking every bit of will power he had to hold back. 
“Uh huh,” you watched his face in awe as it drove you to your orgasm. The coil snapped and your pussy spasmed around him, a string of broken curses spewing from your lips. 
“Holy sh- Ugh I’m cumming, I’m fucking cumming,” Eddie slurred his release painted your insides.
His hips continued to thrust lazily into you as he moaned against your skin, only coming to a stop when he was completely spent. He went boneless in your arms and you squealed as he crushed you under his full weight. You made no move to push him away though enjoying the feeling as you scratched your fingernails up and down his spine softly, giggling as you felt the goosebumps erupt across his skin. 
“You love me,” you couldn’t help the grin that broke out on your face as you remembered his confession. He lifted his head from where it lay on your chest, his eyes met yours with a look of pure devotion. 
“I do,” he reaffirmed. “And you love me.” 
“Yes,” you sighed, his eyes fluttered closed as you gently traced the lines and freckles of his face with your fingertips. 
“This is it?” He asked, a subtle waiver to his voice. “You and me, for real? No more fucking around?” 
“No more fucking around,” you agreed. 
You stayed there with his face nuzzling your chest and your fingers combing through his hair until your limbs were aching and you were dying to pee. You both groaned as you pried your bodies apart and on still trembling legs you made your way towards the bathroom. You took one look in the bathroom mirror and gasped at the sight of your bruised neck, you looked like you’d just had sex with a fucking vampire. Dark angry circles and teeth marks littered the expanse of your throat, part of your collarbones and even a few around the tops of your breasts. You were going to have a hard time covering those up for sure. 
“Eddie!” You shrieked, he came running to the bathroom worried something was wrong but only barked out a laugh when you pointed sharply at the hickeys. 
“What?” He shrugged, giving you his best attempt at an innocent look. “How else was I gonna make sure everyone knows you’re mine?” 
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atomicami · 3 months
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comfort crowd
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boyfriend’s mom!abby anderson x fem!reader
- summary: you’ve been dating your boyfriend for 2 years now, until all of a sudden he starts to act differently around you. one night, you come over to his place to see him, only to discover that he’s out cheating on you with another girl. as a result, you receive comfort from the person you’d least expect—his mother.
- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, older/milf!abby, age gap (reader is 20, abby is 38), reader is in college, owen (he is mentioned a lot but does not make an appearance), mentions of past teen pregnancy, abby and owen are divorced, infidelity/cheating, reader has her first intimate experience with a woman, kinda softdom!abby, oral & fingering (r!receiving), squirting, scissoring, slight edging, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything else
- author’s note: it’s finally here, sorry this one took me so long…i’ve been a bit nervous to do this pairing but it did win the poll i posted a while back so yeah…i also have to say that this fic took a lot of work and effort for me to write out, so i really hope y’all enjoy it 🤍
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You were wishing that your suspicions about your boyfriend weren’t true.
A little over two years ago was when you first met Andrew Anderson-Moore. It was during your senior year of high school and your family had just moved to the city as a result of a job offer that your father had received. Having to start over at a new school was scary for you, but meeting Andrew made that experience a little better.
The two of you connected instantly, and it didn’t take long for you both to start dating and make it official. On your first month anniversary of being together, you two decided to introduce each other to your families. You brought Andrew to meet both of your parents first, and he brought you to meet his dad first before meeting his mom a week later.
Now you’re in your third year of college, still maintaining your loyalty towards him, and you still keep in touch with his parents as well, preferably with his mom, Abigail.
You enjoyed being with Abigail just as much as you did with your boyfriend. She was always so attentive and caring towards you, she treated you as if you were her own. Ever since Andrew had introduced you to her, you’d always make sure to be formal towards her no matter what, even though she could truly care less about it.
“Hi, Ms. Anderson, it’s nice to meet you,” you tell her kindly, removing yourself from your boyfriend’s embrace to shake her hand.
She flashes a smile back at you as she shakes your hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, sweetheart, there’s no need to be so formal though,” she tells you.
“Oh I’m sorry, Abigail—“
“Abby.” She corrects you. “Abby is just fine.”
You simply nod at her in response.
“Alright then, Abby.”
After dinner had passed that day, and you were bringing all the dishes to the sink to wash them, you ended up overhearing Abby say this to her son:
“Make sure you treat her well, Andrew. She’s a sweet girl, definitely a keeper.”
Even though you figured that Abby would be nothing more to you than your boyfriend’s mother, the way she said that to Andrew made you feel unusual inside…But you figured that you were feeling that way simply because it was just a genuine compliment from her.…right?
Since that day, you’ve been close with Abby since then, and Andrew has managed to treat you like royalty.
That is…until a couple of weeks ago when he arrived back from a guy’s trip with his father. You began to take note of the suspicious behavior he’s been having towards you lately. The way he’d hide his phone when he’s around you, how he’d avoid eye contact with you when you ask him about things, and how he’d leave every so often without telling you. It eventually got to the point where you needed to go and address it to him.
And that’s how you got here right now: sitting in your car in the driveway of his mom’s house on a gloomy Saturday night.
You muster up the courage to grab your bag and exit your car before locking it and walking the few steps over to the front door. After taking a deep breath, you step forward and knock on the door. Hoping it would be him answering the door, you’re quick to see Abby answer it instead. “Hey sweetheart,” she says to you. “What are you doing here so late?”
You look up to see Abby looking down at you with a soft smile. She was still in her scrubs with her white coat in her other hand, and with a bunch of little blonde flyaways sticking out of her hair. It looked like she had just gotten back from her shift at the hospital.
“Oh, Ms. Anderson…I was wondering if Andrew was here, by any chance? I need to talk to him about something.” you ask her, praying the answer would be what you’d expect it to be.
Abby let out a sigh and shook her head. “I’m afraid not, sweetheart…Owen dropped him off this morning and he left the house right before I was about to leave for work. I honestly thought he’d be spending the day with you today.”
Although Andrew was an adult now, he still managed to make visits between his mom and dad. Abby and Owen have been divorced for years now, but at the very beginning, they were once dating as high school sweethearts. It wasn’t until Abby had gotten pregnant from him during her senior year, and as a result, he’d figured the best and most traditional way was for them to get married after graduation.
Things were good for the couple so far…until one day, shortly after Andrew’s first birthday, Abby had gotten home early from school only to find her husband in bed with another woman, which instantly led to them getting divorced with joint custody of their son. She felt like she should’ve been hurt and heartbroken about that, but for some reason she just…didn’t. It was almost as if she was falling out of love with Owen anyway, and his cheating was just the sign for her to divorce him.
Even though Abby was the victim in that situation, she didn’t want to tell Andrew about it so as to not damage his relationship with his father. Instead, she made sure to raise him to be a loyal, trustworthy man, just so he wouldn’t end up turning out to be just like his father.
She raised him to make sure that he wouldn’t end up hurting you.
You let out a sigh, looking over at your car before back at her. “Alright, um, I’ll just head out, then…”
As you were about to leave, you felt Abby’s hand gently grab your shoulder, causing you to turn around. “Hold on, um…would you like to come inside? I can’t have you driving around in this awful weather, maybe you can just wait for him in the meantime, yeah?”
You hesitated for a moment, but to be fair, Abby did have a point. It’s been storming so much these days, and based on the few drops you felt land on your shoulder, it seemed like it was going to happen again tonight.
You give Abby a nod, accepting her offer. She steps over to the side, clearing the way for you to enter inside before closing the door behind you.
“Have a seat, sweetheart,” Abby offers, gesturing you towards her couch. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and order some takeout if you’d like? I uh, don’t plan on doing anything tonight…” she continues, stuffing her hands in her pockets.
You nod back at her and set your bag down on the couch before sitting yourself down. “That’s alright with me…Thanks again, Ms. Anderson.”
“Abby, sweetheart,” she replies, correcting you.
“Right, thank you, Abby.”
You watch as she turns around and heads upstairs to her room. Once the shower turns on, you can’t help but get a feeling of deja vu passing through you, remembering that certain day like it was yesterday.
Now, the thought of being with a woman never really crossed your mind, but for some reason, you couldn’t help but find Abby to be so…attractive. You assumed it was just a silly little crush and set it aside because there was no way that Abby would see you as anything more than her son’s girlfriend.
But it wasn’t until about a month ago, that you decided to spend the night at Andrew’s place. It was around 1 am, and you had left Andrew’s bedroom to use the bathroom. As you were just about to go in, you couldn’t help but peek into Abby’s room as you were passing by.
The door of her bathroom was creaked open, the shower was currently running, and while Abby was undressing herself from her scrubs, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes fixed on her figure. Her back, her arms, her hands…you were feeling so attracted to her, to where a wave of arousal was hitting you instantly. You were getting so turned on by her in the way that you should be feeling towards her son instead.
Your gaze kept lingering on her, but once you noticed her blue eyes locking with yours, you quickly rushed back to Andrew’s room. This led you to have to wake up your boyfriend just to have sex with him, all with the sinful thoughts of his mother on your mind.
And even though neither you nor Abby brought up that incident the next morning, she had a strong feeling that those sounds that you were making that night were meant for her.
The sound of thunder startles you. You look out the window to see that it has already begun pouring outside. You were definitely going to be here for a while now, but you didn’t mind it. Abby always provided good company to you anyway.
You watch as the rain keeps pattering down, hitting the glass of the window. Your hand feels the vibration of your phone followed by a chime, causing you to look down at your screen and check the notification you just received.
Abby shuts off the water in the shower once she’s finished, making sure to keep it quick so as to not leave you waiting for so long. She then quickly changed into a shirt and sweatpants before shutting off the lights and leaving her bedroom.
As Abby began to head downstairs, she could hear a faint sniffling sound coming from the living room. It sounded like you were crying. This led to her rushing even quicker now to the living room, walking in to see you quietly crying, your dimly lit phone in one hand while your face was buried in the other, collecting all of your tears.
Concerned, she slowly began to approach you. “Hey, hey sweetheart…what’s the matter?” she asks calmly, sitting down next to you on the couch and placing a hand on your shoulder.
All you could do was shake your head in response. You were so choked up on your tears that you couldn’t even speak. You felt Abby get closer to you, trying to take a look at what was on your phone. You quickly hid it away from her, but it was too late. She had already caught a glimpse of the familiar figure that was on the screen.
Her hand makes contact with yours, trying to get ahold of your phone. “Let me see,” she tells you in a commanding, yet gentle tone.
You couldn’t help but give in, slowly loosening your grip on your phone, now letting her have it in her possession. Once the phone was in her hands she took a closer look at the screen, eyes widening in shock and disbelief. She couldn't believe what was seeing right now.
It was a picture of Andrew, her son, out at a party, with his lips attached to another girl’s, that clearly wasn’t his girlfriend.
Abby was just as shocked as you were. But she wasn’t just shocked. She was enraged, enraged at the fact that her own son had gone behind your back and hurt you like this. You were the sweetest, kindest soul she’d ever met, how could he, or anyone manage to break your heart with no remorse whatsoever?
Along with that, Abby couldn’t help but feel disappointed either. She spent the past twenty years raising her son to not be a cheat like his father was. But at that moment, after seeing that photo and the state you are in right now, she felt like she failed as a mother.
At that moment, she wanted to make things right.
Not only that…she wanted to make you forget about her son and make up for how he treated you.
Abby sets your phone down and reaches for her own that was on the coffee table. You try to stop her from doing so, knowing that she is going to call her son right now. “I-I tried calling h-him,” you choked out, grabbing at her forearms. “H-He didn’t respond.”
Abby gently shakes your hands away from her arms and grabs her phone before quickly unlocking it. “He’ll respond to me, sweetheart, trust me,” she tells you sternly, getting up from the couch and making her way back upstairs to her room before closing the door.
She was definitely right about that. It didn’t take long for you to hear the muffled shouting coming out of Abby’s room. Even through the thick walls of her house, you could hear her clear as day:
“Andrew, what the hell were you thinking?! Your girlfriend is here in my house, worried sick about you and you’re at a fucking party cheating on her with another girl?! I didn’t raise you to be like this. If you wanna keep this act up, then go stay with your father, Andrew. I don’t want you coming back here until I say otherwise.”
Despite that Abby was in your defense about this, you couldn’t help but feel so overwhelmed. You honestly wished you hadn’t come here in the first place. Even though it was storming harshly outside, you felt like the best thing was to just go home. This was the last place you wanted to be at right now.
Once Abby had finished talking on the phone, she then went back downstairs to the living room, only to see you heading towards the front door to leave. She quickly stops you before your hand grabs the doorknob. “Hey, where are you going? I told you it’s too dangerous for you to drive out there right now.”
You ignore her and make the effort to push her away and get to the door, but her strong figure wouldn’t budge at all. “I-I need to go, Ms. Anderson, I can’t—“ Your words get cut off as Abby begins to wrap her arms around you, enclosing your surroundings into a hug.
You couldn’t help but give in to her embrace, burying your face into her chest and sobbing into it, instantly staining the soft cotton of her shirt with your tears. The way you were acting right now was hurting Abby inside. It hurt her to know that her son was the one that caused your heart to break into a million pieces, especially knowing how much you loved him. She was willing to do anything right now to take that pain away from you.
“Listen, sweetheart…” She says, slightly pulling away to get a look at you. “I told Andrew to stay at Owen’s in the meantime, okay? You don’t have to worry about him coming here.” she takes another deep breath before continuing. “I didn’t raise my son to be like this, sweetheart…I’m sorry.”
You look up at her and shake your head in response. “I-It’s okay, Ms. Anderson, it’s not your fault…”
The warmth from one of her hands reaches your face, wiping the tears off of your cheeks “I’d like you to stay here for a bit, okay? I don’t want you going out in that storm and getting hurt…I can’t afford to lose what my son couldn’t keep.”
It was clear that Abby didn’t mean for that last sentence to slip, and she didn’t notice that she was thinking out loud until she saw your eyes widen in shock. You couldn’t help but wonder if Abby was having those same feelings towards you as well…
Your gaze shifts away for a second, and you quickly wipe the rest of your tears before looking back up at her. “As much as I’d like to, Ms. Anderson…I really don’t want to be here right now…Everything here just reminds me of him…”
You notice Abby hesitate for a moment. “Do you, uh, want to go to my room instead? Will that help?” she says, practically trying not to sound desperate. She resisted the need to beg for it, but if that was convincing enough for you to stay with her, she would be on her knees in an instant.
“Yeah…That would be a lot better, actually…”
Abby’s arm moves down to the small of your back before keeping you close to her side as you follow her upstairs to her bedroom, which was at the end of the hall. Before you go in, you couldn’t help but turn your head at the room you had just passed—Andrew’s bedroom. You were already thinking about having to eventually go in there and take your things out of his room. The thought of it was already making you sick.
Abby places a hand on your shoulder, causing you to get slightly startled before looking up at her. “You know you don’t have to go in there yet, right?” she assures you, squeezing your shoulder. “I can even get your things out of his room if you need me to.”
You simply nod and smile back at her as a silent ‘thank you’ before turning the knob of her bedroom and letting yourself in.
Upon entering, you realize how much Abby’s room differs from her son’s. Her room was painted in a shade of light blue, her bed was neatly made just as she had it in the morning. On your left, there was her dresser followed by some weights next to it, and on your right was the entrance to her bathroom. That same bathroom you had peeked into not that long ago.
“Your room is nice,” you tell her, your eyes still fixed on your surroundings. “Definitely a lot nicer than Andrew’s.”
Abby lets out a chuckle from behind. “Yeah, I know, he’s always been so unorganized.” she then hesitates for a moment before continuing. “However, there’s always been something in his room that mine doesn’t have…”
You slowly turn around to face her, noticing her starting to approach you. “What’s that?”
She stops in her tracks once she’s in front of you, gently placing her hand on your chin and lifting it up so you can see her.
“…you.”
A smile crept up on your face in reaction to her words. “Is that so? Well…”
You pause for a moment, looking at your surroundings before looking back up at her and leaning in, just close enough to where your lips were just inches away from hers.
“I like it better here anyway,” you whisper back to her.
And with that, Abby gives in and seals your words with a kiss, and you just can’t help but kiss her back. The both of you knew that this was wrong, Abby was your boyfriend’s mother for Christ’s sake.
But if it’s such a bad thing, why did it feel so good for the two of you?
You feel Abby’s hand in front of you, slightly pushing you back so you can sit down on her bed. Once you land on her bed, she drops down to her knees to your height, still maintaining her lips with yours before pulling them away momentarily to strip you down.
Her hands first meet with the hem of your shirt, gently tugging it upwards to get it off. You bring your hands up as she fully discards you from your shirt and toss it to the ground. As she now works on getting your jeans off, you unhook your bra and slowly remove it before tossing it next to your shirt.
Abby looks up for a moment, only for her gaze to linger at the mere sight of your topless self. “My god…” she says in awe, moving both of her hands to your tits. “You look so beautiful…I can’t believe he gets to see this…gets to touch this…”
With her hands still cupping your tits, she leans in to kiss one of them, causing a moan to escape from your mouth. One of her hands moves back to the button of your jeans, and she instantly gets them undone with just a single hand. Her mouth is soon off of your nipple followed by her other hand, now hardened just from the contact of her lips and fingers. You were easily getting so turned on by her, and she knew it.
However, now that your jeans were gone and your underwear was shifted to the side, you couldn’t help but stop her once she was about to dive in between your legs. “W-Wait…” you said, gently pushing her head away from your soaked cunt.
Abby paused her movements immediately, pulling her head away and looking up at you. “What? What is it?” she asks with some slight concern in her voice.
You hesitate for a moment. You genuinely don’t know how you’re going to be able to confess this to her.
“You, um…you don’t have to do it, i-if you don’t want to—“
“But I want to,” she replied firmly, instantly cutting off the rest of your words. “Do you not want me to?”
You shake your head quickly in response. “N-No, I do, I really do, I just thought—“
“Thought what? What did you think?” she asks you, raising an eyebrow in confusion.
It didn’t take long for Abby to get the message. She knew why you were being so hesitant about this. To her, it felt like she was one step away from finally being able to not only taste you but to give you the pleasure that you deserved. But to you, you couldn’t help but simply feel like a burden to her, just like how it was with her son.
“Wait a minute…Has Andrew not been doing this to you?”
Your gaze drifts off to the side, and she takes your lack of eye contact as a yes to her question.
Each of her hands was on your knees, and you could feel her tighten her grip on them a bit, but not to the point where it would hurt you. And even though you were looking away from her, you could see her shake her head in disbelief from the corner of your eye.
“I can’t believe him…” she mutters to herself with a sigh. “He really is just like his father.”
The warmth of her hand makes contact with the side of your face, tilting it back forward to face her. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart…please let me make up for my son’s actions…let me give you the pleasure that you deserve. Will you let me do that? Please?”
You hesitate once again. The thought of having Abby give you even the slightest bit of pleasure felt overwhelming to you, but the fact that she was quite literally on her knees begging to do it to you turned you on even more. If anything, Abby was being more desperate than you were right now.
So you give in this time.
“Y-yes…” you whisper out quietly to her. “Go ahead…”
And with that, Abby’s hands meet together at the waistband of your underwear, fully pulling them down and off of your legs before spreading them even farther than before.
Her lips gently brush over your sensitive clit to kiss it, and the sudden contact causes you to involuntarily jerk back. You didn’t mean to do it, but it’s been so long since you’ve been touched before, that even the slightest touch on your pussy already makes you feel overstimulated.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Abby coos, gently squeezing your hips and bringing you closer to her face. “I’ve got you, just lie back and relax for me, sweetheart, okay? Nice and slow…”
You try your best to keep your cool right now, and even Abby tries to as well. It’s clearly taking everything in her to not just quickly dive into your pussy and devour you alive. But she knows how long it’s been for you. She knows that your body hasn’t been worshipped the way that it should be.
“God….you taste so good…sweetest little thing I’ve ever had…” she murmurs into your pussy, slowly increasing the speed of her fingers.
You couldn’t help but watch in awe at the sight of Abby right now. Andrew was never willing to even put his mouth near your pussy, while his mother here was on her knees eating you like a woman starved.
“Mmmh, g-go faster, please…” you quietly whine out to her, grinding your hips against both of her thick fingers that were inside you.
You didn’t need to say anything else for Abby to instantly obey your command. Her fingers began to pump in and out of your pussy even faster than before. They were going in so deep to the point where the tip of her middle finger easily tapped into your g spot, and you absolutely loved it.
Before you knew it, Abby’s fingers and mouth were going at an extremely rapid pace inside you, so fast to the point where you were gripping onto the edge of the bed to hold yourself down.
That feeling was quickly building up inside you now, you were going to cum at any moment. However, something about that feeling felt unusual to you. It was almost as if you needed to stop what she was doing to you.
So you do. You try to warn her, even grab at her wrist to slow down.
“A-Abby, wait—oh God—fuck!”
As much as you tried, you couldn’t warn her in time. Your body had already done its deed, your pussy uncontrollably squirting into her mouth and on her fingers as you reached your peak. The rest of your body felt limp, and your brain was feeling slightly fuzzy from your orgasm.
You felt Abby shift around in between your legs to stand back up, which led you to muster up the energy to sit up on the bed. Your eyes widen at the mess you’ve just created. Everything—Abby’s face, her clothes, her sheets, your legs—was all soaked with your release.
You couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed by it, quickly closing up your legs and bringing your knees to your face. “A-Abby, I’m so sorry I—I didn’t mean to do that…I tried to—“
“Hey hey, it’s okay sweetheart…Don’t feel bad…” she murmurs out to you, gently caressing your face with one hand while bringing both of your knees back down with the other. “Did it feel good?”
You nod slowly as she looks back down at you. “Yes, it did…Better than—”
“Better than him, right?”
“Yeah. Better than him.”
A smile flashes on Abby’s face as she leans in to kiss your lips, letting you taste a bit of yourself in the process. “Then you shouldn’t be sorry, sweetheart,” she tells you as she pulls away. “Lie down on the back of the bed, princess. I'm not done with you just yet.”
You simply oblige, sitting yourself up and scooting to the back of her bed, lying your head down on top of her pillows that were stacked in front of the headboard. You watch as Abby wipes her face and licks her fingers clean before stripping herself out of her clothes. Just like last time, you couldn’t help but admire her broad, muscular figure. And it wasn't just her figure, it was just everything about her. Her bright blue eyes, her freckled skin, her luscious blond hair…You just felt so mesmerized by her. You felt an attraction to her that just couldn’t compete with Andrew at all.
Your eyes follow her movements as she leans down over her bottom bedside drawer and opens it for a moment before shaking her head and closing it. It didn’t take much for you to be able to see the strap she owned, alongside the few other toys she had in there.
The weight of the bed soon shifts down as she hovers herself over you. “Are you…are you not gonna fuck me?” you ask her quietly.
Abby nods her head as she adjusts the pillows on the back of your head to make you feel more comfortable. “I’m gonna fuck you, sweetheart, just not with those,” she says as she shifts back and begins to position herself in between your legs. “I'm gonna fuck you in a way that no man, not even my own son, could ever do with you. Would you like that, sweetheart?”
You nod quickly, eager to find out how she’s going to do this. However, you didn’t know what to do about it either. “Wait, but how do I—”
“You don’t have to do anything, okay princess? All you have to do is just look pretty for me while I do the work. Lie back and relax for me, just like before, yeah?”
You nod again, resting your upper body back on the bed as Abby continues to maneuver herself over you. She lifts up one of your legs and places it over her shoulder, and then brings her free hand down to her pussy and spreads her lips open with two of her fingers. You could easily see that she was just as wet as you were right now.
She then places her wet pussy on top of yours and you easily gasp at the newfound feeling of it. The way her lips molded perfectly against yours, along with how her arousal was practically dripping on top of your tight hole had you reeling.
“Oh fuck,” Abby mutters out, further pressing herself down on top of you. “Your pussy feels even better against me like this.”
Abby begins to grind her pussy against yours, causing you to moan over the friction. You understand that Abby wants to take her time with you right now, but God was she being so painfully slow with this. You were desperately craving for some more friction already, but you felt too shy to tell her. So you end up weakly grinding your hips instead.
“Whoa there,” Abby says, placing a hand on your hip to keep you steady. “Looks like someone’s eager for more…You want me to go faster, princess? Is that what you want?”
“Y-Yes, p-please Abby…g-go faster…” you whine out to her, continuing to grind against her pussy.
“Needy girl…” she mutters as she increases her pace. “Not even a minute with my pussy and she already wants more…I bet it feels better than any cock you’ve ever had, hm?”
All you could do at this point was babble and whine in response. The feeling of Abby’s wet cunt against yours was getting you easily drunk. You look down and watch Abby place a thumb on your hood, lifting it to expose your throbbing clit to her. She then placed her clit right on top of yours before grinding even faster than before.
The sudden overstimulation caused your eyes to flutter themselves shut and your head to tilt back in pleasure against the stack of pillows behind you. Your body soon starts to feel limp again and the familiar fuzziness in your brain soon returns again. At this point, Abby was practically using your pussy to get herself off. But as long as you kept feeling the delicious friction of her clit rubbing against yours, you didn’t mind at all.
Abby suddenly tightens her grip on your leg, leading you to open your eyes and look back at her. Her brows were furrowed in concentration with her gaze fixed on both pussies. You could hear her quietly whimpering to herself while the muscles in her abdomen were contracting and tensing up as she kept quickly grinding herself against your pussy.
At first, you couldn’t tell what she was trying to do with herself. But it didn’t take you too long to realize why her body was doing these things.
Abby was waiting for you to cum first.
You were at a loss for words at the moment. Andrew never cared about that. He would always be done the second he’d finish, meanwhile, Abby was sacrificing her own pleasure just to make you cum a second time.
“A-Are you close, sweetheart?” Abby moans out to you, keeping her hands firm against you as she continues to rub her pussy onto yours.
“Y-Yes, fuck—” you whimper back as you begin to quickly grind your hips against hers. “D-don't stop, Abby…m’so close…”
At this point, the noises that the two of you were making right now were borderline pornographic. Between your moans and whines with Abby’s grunts, along with the wet squelching sound of both of your pussies rubbing against one another, it's honestly surprising how you haven’t woken up the neighbors by now.
“Fuck, Abby—'m gonna cum, fuck!” you tell her as you grip the bedsheets while continuing to rub your clit with hers.
Within seconds, your pussy began to quickly clench around Abby’s while instantly cumming right on top of it. Once Abby felt that you were emptied out, she soon let her body relax before cumming onto your pussy as well with a broken moan.
Once the both of you have recovered from each other's climaxes, Abby presses a soft kiss to your ankle before gently getting your leg off of her shoulder and setting it back down.
Feeling drunk from your orgasm, you let your eyes flutter shut for a moment, hardly feeling the movements of Abby cleaning you up and tucking you into a fresh set of sheets. Your eyes open back up again once Abby has her arm wrapped around you from behind. “Abby, that was…that felt amazing..” you whisper out to her.
Abby lets out a chuckle before gently kissing the back of your shoulder. “I’m glad I could make up for it, sweetheart,” she whispers back to you.
You turn your head around for a moment to face her. “Are you sure I can spend the night here with you?” you ask her shyly.
Abby smiles at you, giving you a quick kiss on your lips before responding. “Of course you can, sweetheart…you know I told him not to come back,” she reassures you, gently caressing the side of your face with her hand. “You’re in good hands with me, I promise.”
You smile at her before turning back around and pressing yourself closer to her as she keeps you tightly wrapped in her embrace. The security that Abby was giving you right now was more than enough to make you instantly drift off to sleep, secretly wishing that the night that you’d spent with your boyfriend’s mother could now last a lifetime.
And little did you know, Abby was also wishing the same thing too.
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2023 © atomicami | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.
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iwaasfairy · 7 months
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┌─ “ ! „ CHALKBOARD AND NAILS
tw. noncon, yandere, dumbification, objectification, daddy kink, some degradation, some praise, threats, brief mention of murder and blood, hair pulling, forced oral wordcount. 4.5k
a/n. ♡ commissioned by the amazing @totalleelee ♡♡♡ here you are my loVE!!! happy late birthday to your friend as well, and I really hope you guys enjoy it! I always like getting to write new characters and Nanami was definitely a fun one. I had to make the fic longer bc I wanted moreEeeeee but yea i just really really hope you enjoy it, and thank you again a miLLIOn for commIng me iM so sO HONOUREDDD
nanami kento x fem!reader
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You should think about what you’re doing. Lying upside down off the couch with your eyes big and long, distracting lashes and your hair hanging; casting playful shadows on the floor when you move. His couch. He’d like to believe you’re doing it on purpose -hell, most people would probably be inclined to- when you’ve got that coy, little smile on your face and your shirt rides up to reveal a sliver of skin above your pants.
He would assume if you had ever dared to come onto him in any way. But you haven’t, and so he can’t, not when you remain the perfectly sweet, kind, respectful graduate they hired only a few years ago— and it makes him too aware of you.
Nanami’s not the prim and proper bootlicker Gojo jokes he looks like; so among the other sorcerers, it isn’t even too illogical that you would cling to him a little. A kouhai dumped on his doorstep when the higher-ups decided to employ them fresh out of school. If it were anyone else, he would’ve complained until the choice was overruled. But you’re not anyone else. He can’t even lie about the fact that he’s grown quite the attachment to you.
Your bubbly, engaged energy and blueberry scented shampoo and cheap coffee in styrofoam cups that you always, always forget to throw away at the end of the day. Your chattering that rings through his brain before he goes to sleep and the way you talk and talk and talk when he won’t. You’re the exact opposite of an enigma, because that would require that you left him with some mysteries, and you don’t have the ability to keep your mouth shut. He hates how easy you wind him around your little finger, and he hates that he hates it.
Nanami’s not a dependant guy- and it seems to be your goal to prove him so fucking wrong.
“Why wouldn’t that be possible? I mean, it’d be hard if suddenly a curse shows up and you’re called up in the middle of the night and have to rush to work, and our rates of serious injury are pretty high. But I think I could make it work! Y’know, communication is key and all that.” Your pretty lips shine as you ramble on. You prop your head onto one arm, and turn over so your leg is basically straddling his furniture. “Have you ever dated a non-sorcerer while you’ve been a grade one, Nanamin?”
He lets out a slow exhale, and shifts his gaze back from the lines of your throat to his book so you don’t catch him looking. “No.”
“Not once? In like twelve years?” You raise a brow like you’ve suddenly discovered he’s some ancient fossil dug up from the canal.
“I prefer not to leave my partners for weeks on end with no explanation because the sorcerer world forbids it— so no. And I didn’t graduate twelve years ago, brat.” With the spine of the book he taps your nose, before getting up from the chair to join you on the couch. The few drinks have been abandoned as you finally let the blood back out of your head and wobble like a deer, blinking too slowly. Even now, you’re pretty. Prettier than he wants you to be, taking in the soft slope of your nose and the pillowy lips and your stupid flush on your face. Brat is right.
“I think I’ll do it,” you declare after a few seconds, and rest your head back into the couch with a pout. “I get lonely. And most sorcerers have giant egos.” He’s not sure if it takes him aback -can’t place the emotion that washes over him a few inches at a time- but he finds himself watching the side of your face a little too tightly. The cogs turn in his head and send some uncomfortable cold to gather in the pit of his stomach. Your lashes flutter and some wetness lines your waterline, and he can tell that you mean it. It isn’t the alcohol, he knows you better than enough.
When you look up at him, your faces are only a few inches apart— soft breaths filling the narrow space between. Has he ever told you he loves you? He’s not a man of too many words, that’s always been more your style than his— so probably not. But he does. So much it carves a gaping hole in his chest upon impact. He doesn’t have to say anything to see the way your eyes flutter shyly with the near perfect closeness. As your silence hangs as the room disappears, his hand twitching on his thigh. Aren’t you partly his like he’s yours? That’s how it should work. It’s the only logical course of action, and so he can’t help but lean in.
You’re just too shy to say anything- right? You wouldn’t hang out with him so much if you didn’t, wouldn’t trust and touch him, or confide in him so much if you didn’t. His heart burns in his chest the closer you seem to get. But before he can finish up the gap, you giggle and back away. “Wow! Hey, we almost kissed.” Your voice is a higher pitch than normal, but still rambly. Fuck. “I didn’t expect you to be so close when I looked up,” your nose and cheeks are burning hot, “you scared me, Nanamin~”
You stand from the couch instead, and lean towards him with that little smile that drives him crazy at night. “Senpai, it’s clearly time for me to go home. I’m getting sloppy.” You are. And as much as he wants to use that as an excuse to grab you by your waist and pull you into his lap, it wouldn’t do any good. Not when you’re too busy running your mouth to understand the consequences. He loves you, but you’re one infuriating little runt. You run your hand through his hair like it’s an intrusive thought, spilling loose locks onto his forehead, and then you smack your lips. “Will you see me to the door at least?”
For not the first time, he blames your loose lips for making it so hard for him.
+
You’re entirely different outside the four walls of his apartment.
It’s a coincidence that he finds himself across the street as he spots you walking under the streetlights with a little jump in your step. You look a different sort of formidable— clinging to the arm of some plain fucking loser that is so very clearly drooling all over you. It’s almost pathetic how easily swayed the guy is, as you bat your lashes and smile at him. And somewhere in the back of his mind, it rings a little familiar, but common sense and logic get pushed down a little under the feeling of anger that he feels bubbling up in him.
Not at you— though he told you he didn’t think it a good idea, you’ve always been a bit dense. In need of protection. It isn’t an option, and Nanami’s responsible for you. He looks out for you. This fucking loser though, is oblivious about anything but the skin your dress is showing off. In the brief few moments he gets to spot you walking off towards your street, that much becomes clear. You love making it hard for him. You’re basically magnetic, dragging him along from whatever chore he was doing to follow behind patiently, getting more and more agitated.
See, Nanami has thought quite often about what he is, and isn’t. You forced him to think it over whenever he found his mind wandering back to you each time it had the chance, squeezing around his cock and whining out your dramatics into his mouth. In his imagination, he’s easy to wrap up into a neat bow. With a begrudgingly growing interest each time you landed on his couch, or trailed behind him like a puppy at work. It’s because of all that introspection that he decided he isn’t a good do-er. He does good, and he is perfectly adequate at doing it too. But he doesn’t do it for the praise of it.
Nanami isn’t a hero. He isn’t a vigilante.
He’s a simple guy with simple wants: you. So there’s only one reason that crystalizes in his mind as he finds himself walking a good distance behind this fucking loser that you’re blinking stars up at. It isn’t a noble one. Just that every fiber in him aches to grab the guy by the back of his neck and kick his head like a soccer ball. You wouldn’t like that much, but he still wants to do it.
You’re beaming and chattering along like you do at such a pace that you don’t even notice that he’s started to follow behind. Hell, you barely even acknowledge a passerby to move out of the way. You’re totally zoned in to your doe-eyed, little fantasies— even as the distance gets closer and closer, and he’s walking down the now familiar streets towards your apartment. And as much as he wants to blame you, he can't. Not really. It’s not like he didn’t know what a sweet little cheerleader you were when you were prancing around his office with the shortest skirts known to man and a coquettish blink of your long lashes. But it’s different when it’s some two-bit, middle aged non-sorcerer with a five o’clock shadow.
It’s different when it isn’t him. Even you must know that. You must feel it.
The sky’s darkening as your conversation goes from enthusiastic to clearly flirty, letting your giggle ring out down the lane— as he makes up the last bit of distance. The guy’s probably musty breath reaching you as he swings his arm over your shoulder, as he pulls you close. As he fills your head with all kinds of promises that he definitely won’t actually meet as soon as he gets your pretty hands around his cock. He knows it, and he knows that even your innocent, sweet personality would take a hit if that happened. You wouldn’t be able to perform well at work, and maybe even your relationship with Nanami would suffer if you got your heart broken.
There’s a very clear path before him that ends right where you’re walking up the steps towards your door, and those pretty lips form words he can’t focus on. He walks up to the door, and only now do you glance behind you and your pretty eyes go curiously wide at him. “Nanami?” You’re so fucking cute. But that stupid fucking arm around your shoulders is in his way. It blocks you from view, and ruins the sight. It’s a bother. There’s only the faintest hints of  jealousy and rage left in his veins - when he gives you a quick nod, then turns towards the guy who’s now got an awfully dumb expression on his face. It reminds him a little of a curse, blank and narrowed and disturbed. He feels eerily calm, really. It’s a simple problem with a simple solution, isn’t it.
“What are you doing here-” you start to say, before you stumble back.
Blood splatters all over, and with an awfully easy motion that stupid head rolls and drops to the floor. It’s quick, and there’s a few seconds where he waits for the resistance. The uncomfortable feeling of guilt. But it doesn’t come—
Until your shaky hand clutches almost painfully onto his shirt, pinching him. “H- Nanamin. What the hell do you think you’re doing? What did you-” You gasp, breaking off into a choked cry when your eyes take in the sight before you, before squeezing your eyes shut entirely and starting to shake harder. “What’s- why?! What did you do? Why did you do that?! I can’t- I can’t even- what- why?!”
You shove him aside, and his foot lands in the mess as you fumble sticking the key into the lock— too shaky to control your own extremities well. But your mouth still hasn’t stopped running. “Stay away! Go away! You’re- I- hick- I don’t wanna look!” You finally manage to get the key turned by the time the tears are making your cheeks entirely shiny, snot running and lip wobbly like a five year old— and sink down into a crouch to start sobbing it out into your arm. “You just killed a-an-” You can’t even make it halfway through without breaking out into another squeak. “F-for no reason. I invited him here- seriously, what’s wrong with you?”
Your face doesn’t come up again for breath until he grabs you by the arm to help you up, and you shove at him again, almost yelling this time. “No, no, no no no! Leave me alone!” This little scene you’re making is gonna attract attention, you know. “Leave me alone, I want to go in!” Before the situation can get out of hand, he pushes your door open enough to toss you inside, and the body after you. There’s a muffled little whimper from you when it lands with a thump on your floor. But as soon as he closes the door, the surge of adrenaline calms.
He just has to explain it to you, give him a minute.
“I don’t wanna- I don’t-”
For some reason, the entire situation winded him, and his beating heart bangs loudly in his chest. He drops his weapon aside and kicks off his shoes, and goes to you— where you’re cocooned in your own arms, knees to your chest. “Hey, it’s-”
“Leave me alone!” you squeak, knocking his hands away from you, only briefly looking up. “Go. Hck- go away!” You’re crying so much that your eyes are red and your cheeks puffy. But he still grabs you by your arms and hauls you up into his chest, ignoring the way you make yourself dead weight. Brat. He wants to say it, but he’s pretty sure you wouldn’t be too happy to hear it at this very moment. It’s not like he blames you. He’s always tried to shield you from the more gruesome parts of the occupation as much as possible. Of course you’d be upset. “Nanamin~” you whine.
“Shhh, just calm down. It’s all good now.” His heart still beats so loud. Maybe he was angrier than he first imagined. He carries you -much to your dismay, if your sniveling cries are anything to go off- out of the hall and into your bedroom. Where it smells of perfume and girly body lotion, and so overwhelmingly like you it takes him aback a little. You’re still crying, and still talking- but he does his best to drown it out in favor of explaining. See, he’s always been such a sucker for you. Swallowing down the slight rasp in his voice, he allows you to drop back into your bed, and looks down at you. You’re still pretty even with your eyes clenched closed, and crying like a baby. “There, ‘s okay.”
He runs his thumb along your eyes, then settles down next to you on the plush mattress. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Listen-”
“How can I -hck- listen?!” You’re quick to turn your face away from him, and wrap your arms around yourself a bit tighter— probably unaware of the distracting way you push up your tits that way in that little implication of a dress. Really, Nanami swallows, you can obviously do much better than that loser that’s probably staining your carpet at the entrance. Your lip wobbles again, before you suck it into your mouth. “I don’t know what- or how- but that isn’t okay, Nanamin. I just-”
So again, he tries to get your attention, this time by grabbing your arm. “Just listen. I did it for you- if this was anyone else I wouldn’t have been so pressed.” It’s true. No one is a priority like you are. “I had to.”
“What are you talking about? How- is killing someone- oh god, there’s a dead guy in my house, Nanamin! I don’t k- what am I gonna do? Why would you-”
“I’m trying to tell you something.” His voice is lower and sharper this time, and your eyes finally shoot open to look at him. But it isn't that adoring little look you normally have, and somehow that pisses him off too. You really need to have everything spelled out for you, huh. He loves you though, really, he genuinely, genuinely does. As more than just an equal— if he could, he’d give you everything. He just doesn’t know how to say it, staring back at the wobbly tears on your face. “I love you,” is what ends up coming out, and then a breath.
And he’d say more if you weren’t such a talker.
Your face goes a little distant for a few seconds, before you shake your head. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“I will tell you, if you just-”
“I can’t accept that, senpai! You can’t just go around and kill-”
“I was protecting you!”
“From what?!” Before you even give him a chance, a real one, you start righting yourself on the bed and run a hand under your nose. And you stare at him with such disbelief and broken trust that it makes him feel a little dizzy. He doesn’t know exactly how he imagined himself spilling his guts, but it wasn’t like this. “You need to leave. And I need to contact someone from the higher ups to- take care of- I don’t even know,” you sob, “I don’t know how any of this goes. That’s so messed up, Kento.” That’s the first time you’ve ever addressed him by his first name. Scolding him for a choice he made purely for you. He did this for you. “You need to-”
He can’t let the first time end this way.
“Stop talking.”
“Stop talking?” You echo back to him, and glare, also getting up off the bed and farther away from him— and he can’t help but follow. “What did you think was gonna happen? That I wasn’t going to say anything?” As he gets up with you, you walk back a step, and your eyes flick back and forth between him and the door a few times. But he chases, and you jump in surprise when your back meets the wall, effectively trapping you between the wall and him. “I- Nanami-”
“Kento.”
You barely blink as you take a sharp intake of air, and then hold your hands up to his chest to keep some space between you two. “Look- just- we can talk about this, but I can’t just ignore that there’s a dead body in my house, Kento.” He’s really sick of you talking. You’re lucky he loves your voice so much, because if it was anyone else, he wouldn’t stand for it. Whatever you see in his expression must have you worried, because that slight defiance that remains gets awfully feeble when he reaches for you this time. “You’re scaring me. Please, just- hck- just back up. Let me process this, and then we can talk.”
“No, all your talking just gets in the way.” Your eyes go wide and a wave of heat washes over your features, making you look even more attractive. If he can’t tell you, he’ll just show you. You’ve got it all fucking wrong. What he feels for you is true love. Before you can go on another mad ramble, he grabs you and drags you back to bed, as gently as he can while having his hand screwed tight around your wrist. He wouldn’t ever actually hurt you. As you land on the bed, he holds you down— watching as you open your mouth to talk. But you can’t, because he’s already shoved two fingers between your lips and feels the way your hot, wet tongue squirms as he pushes them down your throat. “There, that’s better.”
Still you’re trying to talk, it’s almost funny. You whine around his fingers and gag when you can’t, breathing his name into an uncomfortable moan that just turns him on. You try to pull your head away, but you can’t. “You’re a lot sweeter when you’re not running your mouth sometimes, baby.” He can’t help it, it just comes out. He likes you so much, and you just look so cute gagging on his fingers and grabbing his sleeve like you’re not sure whether or not to pull or push. Tears start welling up along your waterline when he runs his fingertips over your soft, pink tongue. And his cock twitches in his pants.
That’s the good part, see. Even with all this fighting, you two still get along so well. You make him a better man when he’s around you. At least, in theory. He’s not crazy, he knows that holding you down and making you choke on his fingers isn’t really the best course of action -but you left him no choice- and he’s better off finishing what he started. “If you shut up,” he draws his fingers out of your mouth to start unzipping his pants, “I’ll let you breathe. If you don’t, I’ll make sure you won’t want to talk again.” It’s all up to you, pretty girl. Simple cause and effect. You take one sharp breath as you try to get out from under his weight, but there’s really nowhere you can go.
So you do what you do best, and whine. “Nanami~” It’s a baby-ish little whimper that makes him name sound so fucking good. But still. He grabs your face to squish your cheeks, and stares down at you with such intensity that you keep your cries in.
“It’s Kento.” His voice is a low, soft rumble. He wonder if it gives away the way his body feels right now, standing above you while his cock strains against his pants. They’re getting too tight to be comfortable. “Or daddy- you like that better? Say it.” You shake your head into his grip -but your ears start glowing another color brighter, almost like he’s caught you in a lie. Of course you do. You and him are made to be together. You let out another little squeak before he lets go of you to start undoing his pants. 
That apparently seems to be too much, because suddenly you’re trying to get up as you speak. “No, no, I’m not-” You’re trapped when he forces you back down and now yanks your head back by your hair, making you cry again. “Ow, please senpai— I like you, I really do- but I can’t- I- hang on.” The heat crawls up his neck to his ears watching your eyes go big as the belt falls and his pants go down his thighs. You really do look good on your fucking knees.
“I told you to stop yapping, didn’t I?” He asks in return, and finishes sliding his boxers down, kicking them aside. Then he pulls your face towards his cock and watches as you whine. “Open up for daddy. There’s only one thing your mouth’s good for.” You’re so easy to hold in place, and it sends unimaginable gratification through his body when your little tongue comes out for him. You’re really such a brat, making everything so fucking hard for him. 
You open your mouth enough for him to start pushing inside at just the slightest yank of your hair, making you whine and whimper as you shuffle around between his legs. Your hands come to rest on his thighs, but that doesn’t hold him from sliding the hot head of his cock as far as he can into your mouth right away. You look amazing drooling all over his cock, choking when he starts to move with the most patient moves he can manage. It’s not easy to do much of anything except rock himself on your soft tongue and feel your whining go down his shaft and balls. “There, now you’re making yourself useful. That’s what you do best, hm, fucking brat?”
“Agh, fuck- that’s- such a soft little mouth.” You make him feel heavenly, and by the way you’re shifting down there on the floor -trying and failing to get the friction you want- you’re also feeling it. He can tell by the way you blink up at him so slow, swallowing around him and letting that pretty voice out in the cutest, little moans. Just for him. Only ever for him. “You’re so lucky you’re this fucking cute,” he ends up rasping out, before letting you finally pull back to breathe when you start jittering. “Say something smart again, brat.”
“Agh, daddy,” you sob, drool spilling down your chin, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” He can tell you are. Your big eyes glossy and cheeks hot, you try to get up from the floor, and he yanks you up to turn you over instead. Your little dress rides up too easily, giving the rest of the way when he shoves it up your back. It’s almost embarrassing to see how wet you are, lacy panties soaked all the way through and peeled too easily aside to reveal that needy pussy. And you don’t even deny it, just shiver when he runs his finger up and down your slicked up cunt. “Please.”
He’s such a sucker for you, fuck. It’s almost like you know it. “My little cock slut, look at that. You’re dripping down your thighs, brat.” He spits on your center once before lining up and sliding in, and watching as your little pussy stretches around his cock with some effort— as you let out a lewd, almost desperate whine. “Fuck.” And Nanami hoists himself over you to start fucking into you, hips meeting your ass as he bottoms out, as you open your legs further to let him in. Your back half hangs pathetically over the end of the bed as he fucks into your tight, hot -so fucking hot and wet and beaming- pussy and his balls clap against you. You feel so good it’s hard to hear anything over his own heartbeat hammering wildly against his ribs.
“Daddy feel good inside?”
“Mhm, agh-yea.”
You too, baby. Nothing in the world feels as good as letting your pussy swallow and suck him in deeper, like you’re trying to hold him in that impossibly hot, blissful clutch forever. He can’t even hear much of your whining and moaning and pitiful struggle, but you probably haven’t stopped. You don’t even have the energy to close your mouth, trying to push back to meet his thrusts more even as he bumps against the end of your pussy— and his one hand is squeezed around your neck. But you look pretty this way. You look useful.
“Tell me how much you like me.”“So~ much, so much, fuck. I’m gonna cum, Kento. Daddy.” Your mouth’s still running when he snakes his hand underneath you to start rubbing at your puffy clit, and feels the way his own body starts to tighten when your walls clench wildly around him. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. I want you to cum too, want to feel it- I wanna have you deep inside me forever, ah, ah. Oh, you feel so good, fuck.” It’s almost ironic when he thinks about it. How much he likes you running your mouth like this, begging for more. It’s poetic.
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steddiewithachance · 5 months
Text
Vampire Pancakes
A response to this writing prompt. Thought it was too cute, had to write it! @dwobbitfromtheshire
🥞🫐
No one really knows what to do with Eddie right now. Everyone is jittery around him, going so far as to hold their breath when he so much as twitches. Even Dustin is squinting at him with calculating eyes; he's analyzing Eddie for threat.
Eddie will continue to courteously ignore the hand that Nancy is keeping stationed on her belt conveniently close to the little pistol everyone knows she's hiding. It doesn't matter that Eddie helped them kill Vecna, or that he saved Baby Byers' life. It doesn't matter when he has sharp teeth, dark eyes, and a thirst for blood. He can't blame 'em for being scared.
Eddie thinks about his dad. Wonders if even Al would see Eddie as a monster now.
Eddie got picked on a lot as a kid and he'd often come home from school tired and weepy. Al would look up from the couch in that black tank top he always wore. He'd set down whatever he was smoking to pat the spot next to him.
"What happened Ed? Was some little shithead mean to ya?"
Eddie would nod and slump into his father's side, eyes burning from the spicy, smokey air. When Eddie pressed his face into his dad's arm, Al would pull back and pat his head with sorrowful eyes. Al didn't really know how to comfort a kid or maybe he thought that being distant was in Eddie's best interest.
"You're too soft, Ed. Ya gotta make those kids think you can pack a punch. Chin up, eyes mean, shoulders back. Make 'em intimidated, make 'em fear ya."
So like any kid who thinks their dad's word is law, Eddie listened, or tried his best at least. But his dad never said that mean eyes, dark clothes, and loud music would get him accused of witchcraft by a bunch'a angry jocks and chased straight into hell.
Now his sheepies -his kiddos- are looking at him like they're scared, like they can't trust him and that is a fucking gut punch. Because pretty early on in his high school career, he decided that his purpose was gonna be standing as a shield for other kids like him. He wanted to be a source of safety and warmth in an otherwise cold and unforgiving storm.
Being feared is lonely and sad, Eddie has discovered, and he worries this is his new permanent reality.
Eddie quietly sits through his friends hammering out the logistics of a nighttime schedule to organize sleeping shifts so someone always has an eye on him. It's sick. Eddie has to excuse himself to cry about it. He has no uncontrollable urges to eat anyone here, Steve does smell appetizing, but he wouldn't jump the guy.
He can still eat human food apprently, it barely does anything for him, but it's something. Eddie thinks it's enough to quell any feral urges he may or may not get. He thinks the party is being unreasonable about their safety precautions, but really, he'd probably do the same if there was a monster in the same house as him.
🥞🫐
It's a long night, he can't fall asleep but he'll pretend to so that everyone can relax a little. The changing of the guard chafes at him and makes his lip quiver. He bites his lip to prevent a wounded sound from slipping out when Robin nudges Steve awake and says it's "his turn on hell shift". Eddie jolts because he remembers he has real sharp teeth now, and biting his lip does, in fact, hurt like a bitch.
"You're not asleep, huh?" He hears whispered into the air of the big living room after Robin has settled back into sleep. It's Steve's sweet and melodic voice.
"I'm trying." He responds, brokenly.
"Wanna get some fresh air with me for a minute? I need'a smoke." Steve is already shrugging the sheets off of him and carefully stepping over his sleeping friends towards the back door. Eddie doesn't think he has a choice, but to follow. Stepping out of this stuffy room does sound like a relief though.
Eddie makes the same journey through the sea of teenagers sprawled across Steve's floor and out the sliding glass door. When he steps onto the patio, all of the crickets stop chirping around him. The night goes silent. What the fuck? Is that because of him? He loves the sound of crickets, though.
He walks over and curls up in one of the Harringtons' fancy-loungy-pool-chairs. Steve stays standing, leaning artfully against the side of his house next to the glass. He flicks open his lighter and the small flame illuminates his square jawline with a warm glow. He's so achingly handsome. He's like a movie star, or a model.
"You okay?" Steve asks conversationally.
"Not even a little."
Steve sighs and pushes off the wall to walk towards Eddie's chair. He sits at the foot of it and swivels so he's looking at Eddie.
"I'm really sorry Eddie. I can't even imagine how you must be feeling. I won't pretend to." Steve sets a hand on Eddie's ankle and Eddie could cry from the small gesture of comfort that he's practically writhing for. "I feel like what happened to you is all my fault. I know that 'sorry' wont cut it, but for the record, I am. Completely and utterly sorry." That's a silly thing to think.
"It's not your fault, are you kidding? How do you reckon it's your fault?"
"Sending you with Dustin? Alone? Putting all that responsibility on you?" Steve looks down at his cigarette with disgust. He twists it into the cold concrete next to his socked foot and looks back at Eddie. There's no fear in his expression, and for once Eddie is grateful for his reckless bravery.
"It was the best plan and we all agreed to it. Don't sweat it, Harrington." Eddie feels like he's not all there. Feels like maybe if he was more composed he could comfort Steve better, but he's hungry and dazed, sad and tired. Steve nods solemnly, and clears this throat.
"And about everyone being kind of on edge... It'll pass. I think they're all thinking about when Billy Hargrove got possessed by the mind flayer and went homicidal on us. He tried to kill all the kids."
Eddie desperately wants to hear all the other Upside down stories one day. He keeps trying to stitch together all these scraps of lore that keep getting dropped on him. He has no right to ask about something so traumatic, so he'll just be patient and wait for more lore to drop.
"Everyone's just being cautious. Vecna's dead though, so I'm not really sure who they think would possess you." Steve finishes and squeezes Eddie's lower calf where his hand rests.
"I get it. Kinda hurts my feelings, but I get it." Eddie mumbles and feels his eyes getting heavy. He wonders if he could fall asleep out here. Maybe if the crickets were still chirping and it wasn't so goddamn quiet.
"I'm sorry, Eddie." It's fine, this might not even be the worst thing that's ever happened to him.
🥞🫐
In the morning Eddie curls himself into Steve's little kitchen nook. Eddie kind of loves the window seat, it's something his mom would have wanted, Eddie theorizes. She was always looking out windows, probably daydreaming about escaping. Eddie does it too.
The kids seem warmer this morning. There's no more hushed whispers or pointed looks. They're talking and moving around the house less cautiously. Hopefully, the stiffest interactions and the worst of their distrust is behind them. Nancy's still watching him like a hawk though.
Steve shuffles into view, his socks are bunched up around his ankles. It's cute.
He holds out a plate for Eddie with a dumb smile on his face. When Eddie reaches for it, he sees a stack of pancakes and the top pancake has a little face made out of blueberries and two whipped cream fangs. It's a vampire pancake. Steve made Eddie a sweet little vampire pancake.
"Oh my god, you're so adorable." Eddie squeaks and makes a grabby hand for the fork Steve's holding. Steve blushes and hands over the fork.
"Do you like it?" Steve asks coyly. The pancakes feel like a hug, they feel like an apology that Steve doesn't even owe.
"I love it, chef." Eddie pokes at the pancake-vampire's cheek. "I don't know if I can eat him. He's too cute." Eddie giggles. Steve looks up at him with bright sparkly eyes. God he's perfect. Eddie's hungry for him in five different ways.
Robin and Dustin come up beside Steve to look down at the plate.
"I want one!" Dustin announces loudly. Steve turns around and heads back to the stove, he looks so proud of himself.
"You can have normal pancakes. Those are special for Eddie." Steve says with a wink. Dustin looks down at Eddie and pouts at him as if Eddie has any say in who gets what kind of pancake.
"Dustin had to watch it all happen, he should get one too." Eddie tells Steve earnestly while Steve is pouring more batter into the pan.
Dustin gloats and yells "Exactly! Thank you, Eddie."
And it feels like things are gonna be okay.
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inklessletter · 9 months
Text
Since I can't draw tonight, here's a steddie prompt for you:
Steve runs away from home once he becomes eighteen because his home environment is absolutely toxic. It's all yelling, and spitting insults, and constantly hearing that he is such a disappointment, so he decides to hit the road and go some city away from everyone he knows and just start over. His trauma response to loud, aggressive spaces leads him to accept a job managing a school library.
And he finds out it is his dream job.
He sees all these teens studying, sharing glances, romances beginning, stress increasing as midterms come closer, annoyed faces, giggling girls gossiping, kids vandalizing his tables... And he feels an observant. A watcher.
And he imagines. He imagines their lives, the tall jock with the widest smile going soft for the sarcastic redhead. The quiet thing blossoming between tose two boys who give longing glances when the other is not looking. The oddest friendship between the meanest eleven year old he's ever met and the most cynical kid to ever set foot in that school. He sees and he imagines, but he's silent.
Because silence is a precious shield that protects his imagination. Silence will never hurt him.
His first real friendship begins in silence. This girl, Robin, passes him a note with a poor drawing of him falling asleep on his desk. It made him laugh. She laughed too. That was enough.
They play this game together in which they both exchanged the craziest theories they could think of about other people's lives.
That one is a Russian spy.
That one runs a secret lab.
That one has mind powers (okay, that was maybe too crazy).
That one is an former cop.
"That one is a rockstar," Robin said pointing an absurdly good looking guy that was checking out a couple of books.
"He does looks like one, though..."
Robin was going to reply when she noticed Steve's rosy cheeks. She just smiled. She noticed the guy looking briefly at them, and then he grinned.
"Metal is more my scene, but close enough," he said.
Shit.
The guy approached them and Robin, the traitor, bolted away. The guy, all dimples and soft hair lent Steve two books and his library card (Munson, Eddie), that he registered and gave back to him.
Steve tried hard not to be an awkward mess, he barely managed to.
"I do actually play in a band, uh, on Tuesdays," Eddie said. Steve looked at him with a twist in his stomach. "And today is Tuesday. So if you want to come, I would gladly buy you a drink."
Steve felt a lump in his throat, and looked down.
"Uh, I—I don't—"
"Oh, sorry, I just—"
"I don't do well with loud noises," Steve said quickly. "I'm sorry."
Eddie nodded.
"Good luck tonight," Steve said, not wanting to leave the conversation in a rejection. He pointed the book. "This one is really good."
"Have you read The Lord of the Rings?"
"Yeah," Steve smiled. "I've got time and silence here."
Eddie looked at him with something hidden in his pupils meant to be discovered by Steve.
Eddie left the library.
There were a few days and a lot of conversations with Robin about that Eddie guy. Steve let himself imagine again, about him. About Eddie. He fantasized a lot, ignoring deliberately the sting in his guts knowing that he blew up his chance.
Two weeks passed and Eddie was there to return the books again, with a small guitar case hanging in his back, and Steve tried his best not to look like a kicked puppy.
"I can do soft noises," Eddie said, out of the blue. It earned him a look from both Robin and Steve. "When do you, uh, have a break?"
"Right now," Robin chimed in, quickly. "He's having a break right now."
A few minutes later they were in the rooftop. They found a comfortable spot with the best views and Eddie took out an old and battered ukulele. Then he looked at Steve.
"I am not a silent person. I exist in noise, and busy environments, and awful high pitched laughs," he said with a smile. "I can't change that, but I can change the noise."
Eddie caressed the tiny guitar strings, and the sound sent goosebumps through all Steve's skin.
"I can change the noise for you," Eddie said, low and soft, and he started playing a song. "If you let me."
His first real love began with music.
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suguru-getos · 5 months
Note
I'm rather new to your blog and on my fucking knees already orz. The sukuna headcanons got the hamster-wheel in my brain doing overtime cuz holy shit. They're not only in character but just so fucking delicious jshshabaua. Plz spare more crumbs if possible 🥹 The newer manga chapters are..... full of fuel to say the least.
Love your writing, literally has me giggling like ans kicking my feet like a school girl.
aww thank you nonnie you just made my day 🩶🥹
warnings -> gore, nsfw, etc etc -,- its yan sukuna this post is a warning in itself
yandere sukuna hcs -> extended
he loves branding, he discovered that when one time he wrote his name in kanji on your lower back, like your very own tramp stamp. and he’s never been more turned on. “might have to make sure that scar.” he chuckles, “you’re my little slave and you need a mark of slavery yeah?”
he is fine with you using new tech gadgets like phones and stuff but of course — you have to be available at every beck and call for sukuna. there was one time you couldn’t hear him calling for you, and you were busy & then he made you record how he spanks you & made you rewatch it. over and over and over until your eyes were strained & your pussy was wet.
cockwarming all the way just because he thinks it’s your ‘training’ to get you used to his massive girth and length. he can feign some indulgence to your stupid netflix shows because there’s nothing you can do except sit pretty for hours so !!
he loves to tongue fuck you with his massive mouth on the tummy so don’t be afraid if he’s caressing your womb like that while his other mouth is busy degrading at how you clamp down on his tongue 😔
he is a mean ass bitch. this one time a conversation came with your exes and he summoned them only to let them watch in horror, how he fucks you and how a bloody demon takes care of his little slave. he cleaves their arms and dicks off but makes sure they’re high on adrenaline so they don’t pass out. yep — crazy motherfucking demon
as i said you can’t really wear clothes so during winters he makes sure the room is heated up enough. because he doesn’t want you to fall sick. why? well — its no fun when you’re frail and sick and some sadistic part of him dislikes the idea of playing with you when you’re not at your best. he tries to use his rct on you from time to time given the damages he does, soo 🤷🏻‍♀️
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eideticallys · 10 months
Text
Who's Your Barber?
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request: based on this.
pairing: spencer reid x reader
summary: “you move fast, kid.” he turned to spencer who looked like he was on the verge of passing out. “letting Y/N cut your hair without going on a first date.”
genre: fluff
word count: 852
author's notes: hello! i'm back with another spencer reid tooth-rotting fluff without plot. this was based on a request sent to me. i hope you'll love this! also posted on ao3 (spencereids).
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“DO YOU THINK MY HAIR’S TOO LONG?”
You looked up from where you were working on a pile of paperwork from a recent case only to stare at a pouting Spencer.
Cute, you thought.
“Why?” You asked, now facing the man in front of you who was busy fretting over his hair. “Is it bothering you?”
“No, not really.” He mumbled. “I just—I don’t know. I want to keep it this way because it’s always been kind of on the longer side but I also want to try cutting it short.”
A bit shy from his admission, Spencer started fiddling with the hair tie on his wrist, obviously not that comfortable implying that he did care about his looks even for a small bit.
You almost cooed at how adorable he’s being for a grown man.
“Okay,” You prodded him again, wanting to make sure you understood what he was trying to say. “So, you wanna try a new haircut but you’re not sure about it. Well, I can help you with that.”
Spencer looked up from where he was playing with his hair tie and scrunched up his brow in question.
“How?”
You instantly blushed at what you were about to suggest when you noticed Spencer being all for it. The thing about Spencer is that he’s a great listener as much as he likes to talk. Coming from a household where he never got to have a good companion unless his mom was doing okay, Spencer knew what it felt like when no one wanted to listen to whatever it was one has to say. With all your doubts starting to vanish at Spencer’s obvious interest, you shared your thoughts.
“Well,” You decided to share. It’s not like you would recount to him an embarrassing childhood story. That’s a story meant for another day. “I may or may not have worked at my aunt’s salon over the summer back when I was in high school. I wasn’t a hairstylist but learned a thing or two.”
Spencer’s eyes widened in wonder. You no longer regretted sharing your experience and were sure he was about to share a tangent on hairstyling in typical Dr. Spencer Reid fashion.
“Archaeologists discovered that cutting our hair and styling it have both been practiced by human beings as early as the Ice Age.” Spencer babbled. “Also, they said that people’s social class, age, ethnicity, race, and genetics determined the style of their hair throughout history even up to the late 20th century.”
You grinned at Spencer’s info dump and ruffled his hair, to which he scrunched his nose.
“So, Reid,” You replied. “When are we gonna cut your hair?”
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“What, did you join a boy band?”
Everyone around the table started giggling and smiling as soon as Hotch directed the question at Spencer, as your cheeks reddened. Unfortunately for Spencer, you being a former employee at your aunt’s salon certainly did not do you wonders. Because what was supposed to be a trim here and there became a short haircut for him, quite shorter than what he has envisioned, he shared with you.
You almost dug yourself a hole right then and there.
But apparently, Spencer liked it enough—loved it even—to not hate you for cutting his hair too short. It’s fortunate—for him and especially for you who gets to see him in his new hair every day—that Spencer was pretty. He looked good both in long and short hair.
However, with Hotch asking him that question, you were sure Spencer would hate you for cutting it wrongly.
“No?” Spencer replied as his brows crinkled. You breathed a sigh of relief with his answer, which Rossi didn’t fail to notice. 
You were about to head out when Hotch just announced, “Wheels up in 30.” When you heard Rossi speak to Spencer
“I like your hair, kid.” You almost smiled until Rossi questioned him. “Who’s your barber? Maybe I’ll get myself the same haircut.”
As if it couldn’t get any worse, you heard Morgan join in on the conversation, like both he and Rossi knew something you don’t. Spencer probably didn’t know what that something was too.
“Yeah, pretty boy. Who’s your barber?”
Spencer looked like he had swallowed a frog and he had seen a ghost with how comical he looked right now. 
It seemed Spencer knew what Rossi and Morgan were trying to imply in their prodding.
“It seems to me,” Rossi continued. “It was our lovely Y/N who cut his hair.”
At this, your eyes widened as Derek smirked.
“You move fast, kid.” He turned to Spencer who looked like he was on the verge of passing out. “Letting Y/N cut your hair without going on a first date.”
Spencer likes you back? 
As in more than friends? 
Non-platonic?
Spencer likes you back!
“Shut up!” Spencer screeched.
“Let’s leave the kids alone.” Rossi appeased Spencer while looking at you. “They have a date to plan.” 
Spencer sputtered out as both men chuckled while moving out.
“So, Reid.” You simpered. “Where are we going for our first date?”
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floralcyanide · 8 months
Text
𝟑𝟎,𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐭 - 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐧𝐞𝐫
jackson rippner x f!reader
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Usually, airports were the bane of your existence due to your career and the constant requirement to travel. But when you stumble upon a handsome man at the airport bar, your disdain for flying seems to change.
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warnings: smut, nipple play, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, public sex, mile-high shenanigans
word count: 2780
author’s note: not proofread again lulz but when do I ever?? anyway I got a request for this and had to write it right away because I love jackson sm omg. please lmk if you enjoyed and send some feedback <3
main masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here
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You wouldn’t mind it if you didn’t have to step foot inside another airport for the rest of your life.
Unfortunately, your career requires you to travel every month, so your escape from airports will have to wait. You doubt there’s anything that will make your experiences with the liminal spaces any brighter or more profound- you doubt there’s anything that would make them even a smidge exciting. But, who knows, maybe one day you’ll eat your words. So, until then, you’ll fast-walk through airports and terminals with your carry-on with the deepest resting bitch face you can conjure up. And it appears that today will be yet another day that you muster up one.
Deciding to hit the best bar in the DFW airport during your routine TSA spiel, you weave around the other flyers in the corridors in a hurry. Even if your red eye flight has been delayed about two hours, you figure two hours in an airport could be better spent drinking. After scouring the entire airport numerous times on each trip you’ve taken from DFW, you finally settled upon a corner bar near your gate. After passing by it a few times, you decided to give it a chance. Its appearance is initially off-putting- it is dark and moody. Still, it had an oddly comfortable atmosphere and good drinks, obviously. You stroll up to the bar, smiling and nodding to the bartender you’ve come to know here. Going to sit in your usual booth, you discover there’s someone already seated there.
“If this were middle school, I’d tell you this is my spot,” you joke as you approach the man, whose face is covered by his long bangs.
A pair of sharp blue eyes glance up at you from their place on the cocktail menu in his large hands, and a sweet smile graces his lips when he looks you over, “I certainly apologize for stealing your spot. Care to join me? I can buy you a drink to make up for it.”
You give him a questioning look, half-joking with your tone, “What’s in it for me?”
“A free drink and your spot back,” the man says haughtily, a mischievous gleam in his eye.
“Deal,” you reach a hand out for him to shake.
“Deal,” the man says, accepting your hand and shaking it firmly.
You slide into the booth, sizing the man up, “What’s your name?”
“Jackson,” the man says, his eyes nearly piercings into yours, “Jackson Rippner.”
“Oh,” you raise your eyebrows, suppressing a giggle, “your parents must hate you.”
Jackson laughs, shrugging, “Yeah, you could say that. But you can’t hate anyone if you’re dead.”
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry-”
“No need. Finished them off myself,” Jackson says, deadpanning.
You pause before laughing at his joke, “Gotcha.”
“So, what’s your drink of choice?” Jackson asks, changing the subject lightly.
“Hmm, I don’t think I’ll tell you just yet,” you let your eyes roam everywhere but Jackson’s face until you land your gaze back on him.
“You want me to guess, then?” Jackson asks, “I’m good at that, actually.”
“Oh, really? Prove it, then,” you say with a playful edge to your tone.
Jackson puckers his lips, furrowing his eyebrows in thought, “I’m thinking white liquor,” he trails off, “Maybe vodka, something fruity but not too skimpy.”
“You’re close, but not quite,” you bite your lip.
“I think you’re the type to have a classic no one considers.”
“Which is?”
“Dirty Shirley,” Jackson snaps his fingers, pointing at you confidently.
“Nope,” you say, grinning, “Just a vodka and Sprite for me.”
“Ah, but I was close.”
“Yes, you were very close,” you say, having the urge to flirt with this man you don’t even know.
“I’ll go grab that for you,” Jackson says, getting up out of the booth and heading to the bar.
While he’s gone, you rummage through your bag for a perfume roller, quickly rubbing some on your pulse points. Then, you unbutton the first two buttons of your blouse, revealing your cleavage just enough to be subtle. Turning around for a second, you see Jackson heading back to the booth, and you brush yourself off before slipping the perfume back into your bag.
“A vodka and Sprite for the pretty lady,” Jackson places your drink down in front of you before returning to his spot across from you.
“‘Pretty lady,’ huh?” you raise an eyebrow, taking the two black straws into your mouth.
“What can I say?” Jackson raises his hands in defense, “You are a pretty little thing. I’m glad I sat in your spot.”
“Oh,” you say, trying not to let your face heat up at the compliment, “Well, I’m glad too.”
The both of you silently sip your drinks after that, sharing fleeting glances while giggling. You decide to be cheeky, slipping off one of your heels and running your foot underneath Jackson’s pant leg. You nonchalantly look around the bar, chewing on your straw as if you weren’t up to anything. Jackson is staring right at you with a smirk as his eyes stare holes into your off-cast ones. 
“Feeling a little naughty, are we?” Jackson whispers, just loud enough to hear over the music.
You move your eyes toward him, “How do you mean?”
“I see,” Jackson looks down at the remainder of his second drink, “You wanna play like that, huh?”
“Play like what?” you challenge him, pushing your foot farther up his leg, now going over his pants and toward his thigh.
Jackson chuckles, about to say something, but he’s interrupted by the airport intercom. Your flight is a few minutes from boarding.
“Oh, that’s me,” you frown, downing the rest of your second vodka and Sprite before looking at Jackson, “What do I owe you?”
“For the drinks? Nothing,” Jackson licks his lips, “But for the teasing? We’ll have to see about that.”
“Oh really?” you ask, your heart rate now picking up at the obvious flirting.
“Really.”
“And what will you do about it?” you daringly ask.
“Well, we are on the same flight,” Jackson says, “So we’ll have to see.”
The two of you head over to the gate, getting in line to board. You boredly flip through a book your friend suggested for you to read on the flight. Jackson takes notice of this.
“Bookworm? Didn’t pick that up about you,” Jackson asks, rolling back and forth on his heels and toes. 
“Depends on the book,” you say, pursing your lips as you skim over the words, “Don’t think I’m a fan of this one, though.”
“That’s a shame. Any ideas of what you’re gonna do on the flight?” Jackson inquires, a flirty undertone in his question.
“Hmm,” you wonder, “Probably sleep. Unless I find something else to do.”
“Ah,” Jackson nods, “Hopefully, you will.”
“Hopefully,” you chuckle.
You and Jackson get separated during boarding, but you do a double-take when you arrive at your seat.
“Are you in the right seat?” you ask.
A familiar pair of striking eyes look up from a book to meet yours, “Did I steal your spot again?”
“No,” you shake your head, laughing, “I’m seat fifteen B.”
“And I’m fourteen B,” Jackson closes his book.
“Interesting,” you say, “Small world, huh?”
“Small indeed,” Jackson exhales, about to say something, until a lady a few rows down asks for help with her carry-on.
You move to the side, allowing Jackson to scoot by you. As he does, he puts a gentle hand on your waist, sending goosebumps up your spine. You watch as he helps the lady, and you try not to laugh when she tries flirting with him. Jackson returns to the row, moving past you again and plopping into his seat. 
“I know we talked for what, two hours? But I never asked, why are you headed to Miami? Work or play?” Jackson asks, buckling his seatbelt as the flight attendants announce preparation for take-off.
“Work, unfortunately. I take this trip often, red eye and everything,” you say, resting your head on the headrest behind you.
Jackson nods, “I’m here for work too. I hate flying, not going to lie.”
“Me too,” you grumble, “I hate everything about flying, including the airport and everything that comes with it.”
“Everything?” Jackson presses jokingly.
“Well, today was different. I actually had a nice time at the airport, especially since I got to meet you,” you say, keeping your eyes on the flight attendant as she goes over the safety precautions and flotation devices under the seats. 
“Good to know,” Jackson says, placing a hand on your knee.
You look at his hand, feeling very warm all over. The plane begins to speed up and ascend, and you relax in your seat, Jackson’s hand still on your knee. His nose is in his book as you try your best to read your friend’s book suggestion. When the plane finally reaches 30,000 feet, the seatbelt light turns off, and the lights dim. Flight attendants offer pillows and blankets, and you take a blanket, tucking your book away and covering yourself with the blanket. You’re on the verge of sleep when you feel Jackson’s hand slide up your thigh. You pretend you’re asleep, not moving or reacting to his touch. His hand is hidden by the blanket, so no one can see his hand move further up, dangerously close to your core. You’re wearing a dress, so there’s easy access. Not that you were complaining that Jackson was touching you. You were feeling him up earlier at the bar, so now it’s his turn. 
Jackson sneaks his hand back down your thigh and over your dress, slowly making his way over your hip and waist, up to your clothed breast. The blanket‘s hem was tucked behind your shoulders, covering up your entire body, so no one could see Jackson’s hand crawl underneath your dress again. This time, to squeeze at your breast. You try not to move or make a noise as Jackson takes your nipple between his fingers, pinching it lightly. Pretending as if he woke you up, you rouse and sit up straight.
“What are you doing?” you ask, acting as if you were asleep.
“I know you’ve been awake the whole time, sweetheart,” Jackson whispers.
“No, I wasn’t,” you say innocently.
“Don’t lie to me,” Jackson chastises, twisting your nipple harshly.
You bite your lip, muffling a moan. You squeeze your legs together as he continues to tweak the bud. 
“Is this what you want? Hmm? Teasing me earlier with your foot, I figured I’d play with you too.”
Jackson’s hand moves to your other breast, flicking your nipple. His other hand travels under your dress, his fingernails pressing into your skin. You bite your lip to stifle a moan from the sharp sensation on the sensitive skin of your thigh. His fingers ease to your core again, ghosting over your clit as you open your legs.
“Be quiet like a good girl,” Jackson says, eyes darting around to ensure no one is looking despite the lights being off.
You nod as he presses two fingers to your clit, rubbing slow, soft circles. Warmth gradually spreads in your lower belly at the sensation, and you widen your legs further. Jackson pulls his fingers away momentarily to slip them inside your underwear and continue his movements on your bare bundle of nerves. You cover your mouth, exhaling shakily at the stimulation. Jackson slips a finger inside you after playing with you for a while.
“Already so wet?” Jackson teases in your ear, his lips brushing against it.
“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath.
Jackson slowly pumps his finger in and out, eventually adding a second one. You shutter from the delightful stretch. You look around before subtly jerking your hips forward, riding his fingers.
“Fucking yourself on my fingers so good,” Jackson nibbles at your ear lobe, “Can’t imagine how you’d feel around my cock.”
You bite your knuckle to hold in a desperate whine at his words, “Please,” you whimper.
“Please, what?” Jackson asks, his fingers picking up the pace.
“Fuck me,” you whisper, “Take me to the bathroom and fuck me against the wall.”
“What a brazen little one you are,” Jackson grins, pulling his fingers from you and sucking your arousal off them, “It’s gonna take a little more than that, though.”
You groan at the loss of fullness, “Like what?”
“Beg.”
You pull Jackson’s hand back to your soaking slit, “Please touch me, fuck me, do anything you want to me. Please.”
“Keep going,” he pants, circling your clit with his fingers again.
“Jackson,” you sigh, “God, I need you inside of me. So bad,” you hiss.
“Go,” Jackson whispers, “I’ll meet you there.”
You hurry to pull down your dress, pulling the blanket off you before quietly walking to the bathroom. You check the vacancy before pulling the door open, leaving it unlocked for Jackson. You sit on the toilet, waiting patiently as your pulse thumps in your ears. A few moments pass, and the door opens slightly, revealing Jackson before he slips inside the bathroom. You stand up, but before you open your mouth to say something, he picks you up and presses you against the wall. You wrap your legs around Jackson’s waist, kissing him with a bruising force. Jackson slides his tongue through your lips and into your mouth, exploring it as his hands grip your ass. You reach a hand down and unzip and unbutton Jackson’s pants, your hand snaking past his underwear band and wrapping around his cock. 
“Fuck,” Jackson seethes, already hard from previous events in your seats earlier.
He pushes up the hem of your dress around your hips, pulling your underwear down far enough for him to slowly enter your throbbing core. Both of you gasp at the feeling, hours of pining hitting the climax. You thought Jackson was attractive the moment you laid eyes on him. You aren’t passing up the opportunity to join the mile-high club with such a gorgeous man. Jackson pushes further into you, and you relax more so he can press his hips into yours. Your fingers grasp at his hair as he pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back in. Your back roughly hits the wall behind you, but it wouldn’t be the last time. You have to hold onto the wall with one hand to not bang into it, your other hand holding onto Jackson’s hair for dear life as he fucks you without mercy. 
“God,” you say, the word drawn out as you and Jackson’s hips slam into each other. 
Jackson covers your mouth as you stare into his blue eyes, now darkened with lust, “Stay quiet.”
You nod, “Mhmm,” you hum from underneath his hand.
Your eyes stay on each other as you move your body forward in time with Jackson, his cock hitting that spot inside you perfectly, sending shockwaves over you. Jackson wraps an arm around your waist, holding you steady as his other hand moves between the two of you to rub tight figure 8’s on your bundle of nerves. You squeal, eyes rolling into the back of your head as Jackson continues to fuck into you like you’re a sex object. You feel yourself clenching around him as your orgasm creeps up. You pull on Jackson’s hair harshly, causing him to moan as his hips stutter. You do it again, and he has to bite your neck in order not to moan out loud. 
“Are you gonna cum?” Jackson grunts into your ear, “Huh?”
“Yes,” you gasp, “Fuck yes, I’m gonna cum.”
“Cum around my cock, pretty thing.”
Your release smacks you in the face, sending your body reeling as it nearly convulses against the lavatory wall. Jackson cums right after you as the feeling of your walls squeezing his cock sends him over the edge. You milk him for all he’s got, rutting your hips through both of your orgasms. You both catch your breath as Jackson lets your legs collapse back to the floor weakly. He holds you up as you regain your posture.
“I suddenly really like flying now,” you push your hair out of your sweaty face.
“Me too,” Jackson says with an expressionless face, which you match.
Suddenly, both of you burst out laughing but cover your mouths quickly before anyone can hear in the plane. After cleaning yourselves up, you both successfully sneak out of the bathroom and back to your seats, covering up with the blanket.
“Ever barhopped in Miami?” you ask Jackson, trying your best to hold your eyes open.
“Nope. You?’
“Nope. Want to?”
“Absolutely.”
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taglist:
@baizzhu @aporiasposts @hjmalmed @queenshelby @amanda08319 @naty-1001 @orijanko @raineeace @nela-cutie @cutexlr
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ferrstappen · 11 months
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unscheduled school visit l Max Verstappen
a/n: hello! i got this quick idea while working on some requests/school work. hope you like it and pls pls feel free to leave feedback <3 it really motivates me <3
pairing: dad!Max Verstappen x female reader.
summary: the twins' teacher calls, the twins got in trouble. Max is in disbelief.
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Max was a strict parent. 
Not in the way people may think, and not in the least similar to how his dad was with him, but Max always was concerned on how the twins were doing in school, only in first grade, but still. He was always working on instilling discipline and hard work to Luca and Mila, so in the future they can be whatever the hell they want to be. Max knew money was never going to be an issue, so it was up to them to take all the opportunities that meant.
He always tried to take them to museums when they joined races, often tried to switch languages, even encouraging other drivers and people in the grid who interacted with the kids to speak in their different languages. 
It was always fun to watch Charles speaking to Luca in French or Italian as Luca slowly tried to come up with an answer and was always met with a high five, or Mila asking Checo why Carlos had a different accent. 
The smile never disappeared from your face when you get home from running an errand or attending a meeting that couldn’t be held on Zoom, to Luca and Mila chatting about what they learned on school today or silently doing their homework on the family room while Max watched them, himself also getting some things in the meantime.
The point is the twins were smart, both you and Max putting all your efforts to gently and effectively find what they like, what they don’t. 
You know your kids. Both of you would put your hands on fire because of them. You trusted them because Max and you were raising them good and the twins were great beyond words could explain. 
So when you receive a call from school telling you to come over, you quickly reached Max who was on the sim, driving through Imola with his eyes closed. 
“Babe, school called and we have to go,” As soon as you announced the news Max turned around, seat and steering wheel lightly shaking. 
“What do you mean? What happened?” Max was instantly on his feet.
“I don’t know, Max. Their teacher called,” You told your husband as his eyes opened widely. 
“Their? Is it both of them?” Max was in complete disbelief of what he was hearing.
“It appears so. I’ll cancel a meeting and we go.”
You didn’t leave him alone for thirty seconds, you swear, but when you came back Max was on the phone, asking the teacher to put Mila on the phone. 
He knew his daughter too well. She was outspoken, assertive, didn’t think twice. Luca was more cautious, wise and maybe a little timid. 
“Pap, he was trying to pull Luca’s hair and stealing his crayons, and Luca was letting him because he didn’t want to cause any trouble!” an agitated Mila informed Max, speaking a broken dutch. 
“Are you okay?” Max calmly asked his frantic daughter. He knew she was disquieted, trying to sound more sure of herself than she actually was. 
“Yes,” she said in dutch, but in the back her teacher told her in a sweet voice to speak in a language they could all understand. 
“Okay baby girl, mama and I are on our way, see you in a bit,”
During the drive to La Condamine to reach the International School of Monaco, you discovered a side of your husband you had yet to see. It was fun. 
“She is not apologizing!” Max told you, eyes not leaving the narrow road.
“Max, she pulled the kid’s hair,” You reminded your husband, who softly shook his head in disagreement. 
“Yes, because the idiot kid was bothering Luca and pulled his hair! If anything that kid should be apologizing to Luca, his sister just defended him!” His lisp was more prominent as you reached the parking lot overlooking the several yachts.
Max noticed the other child’s parents already walking inside the school, there weren’t many students in the Early Years building. He pressed the gas harder than necessary, making the engine of the family Aston Martin roar like they were in the paddock. 
Your eyes rolled at his antics, but still it made your insides feel giddy at the thought of your husband being protective and loving. 
Luca’s arms were wrapped around you as soon as you walked inside. Kneeling to reach his height, your heart broke at the sight of his disheveled hair and wet cheeks, his beautiful eyes red. Luca tried to not sniff and stop the tears, trying to be brave when he felt your hands on his cheeks and kissing his forehead, asking if he was okay. 
At the same time, Max sat next to Mila whose eyes didn’t leave the other kid’s sight, whom you learned his name was Oliver. Max knew his daughter wanted to shed a tear, but didn’t let it show, so he just gave her a reassuring look before listening to the teacher who had the three of them in charge.
Curtly shaking hands with Oliver’s parents, Max politely ignoring the poor attempt of one of “the idiot kid’s” dad to start a conversation, obviously starstruck by your husband the World Champion. 
Yes, it was Monaco and everyone knew each other, and it didn’t take a genius to deduce the two Verstappen named kids on the class were the children of the Max Verstappen, but he was often away and it was mostly you who attended parent-related stuff, but now there was the chance to have a conversation directly with him. 
Oh well. 
The four got inside the car, Max adjusting the seats before getting in the driver seat. Mila and Luca loudly sighed, knowing what followed.
“I don’t know how to address this. I’m moved and proud that you look out and defend each other, but M, baby, pulling someone else’s hair is not the way,” you softly told your daughter. “and Luca, honey, I know it’s hard but when someone invades your space and is rude, but you can tell the teacher before it makes you feel bad and leads to this,” 
Max’s eyes followed the twins movements through the rearview mirror as you talked to them, soon reaching your home. You grabbed the backpacks and Max helped the twins get out of the car.
He reached Luca’s door first. When he was out, he left a kiss on his forehead and ruffled his hair, softly reminding his carbon copy that he was a little lion, still with lots to learn, but no one ever could make him feel like this. 
Then he reached Mila’s door. Her eyes now were a bit glossy, but he knew she was just like him, Mila would never show weakness. He reminded her that she can take some weight off, let her guard down with her parents before kissing her hair. 
You watched the scene unfold from afar, not knowing what he told them, but sure they were the right words.
Then giggles reached your ears, eyes immediately rolling. 
He was fist bumping Mila, giving her a nod of approval.
For God’s sake, this wouldn’t be the first time you’re called to school, that’s for sure.
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strawberryspence · 1 year
Text
Steve is 19 when Eddie first says it. It's the night Eddie comes home from the hospital, body all bandaged up to help him heal. Steve picks him up, drops him off the brand new trailer and has to say his goodbyes. He's the one who's been staying with Max at the hospital since Lucas started going to school again. Eddie watches, seated on the door, shoulders leaning against the frame.
Eddie waves at him, hand still wrapped protectively on his middle. There's a tired smile on his face, "See you tomorrow, Steve." It's the first time Eddie ever calls him by his first name.
Steve is 20 and Eddie Munson has been saying, "See you tomorrow!" as his goodbye to him since that night. Robin thinks it's for him and for him only. Steve watches Eddie, something he does a lot these days. He watches as he says his goodbye to the kids, says goodbye to Nancy, Robin, Jonathan, Argyle. Eddie never once says the words, "See you tomorrow!"
Steve waits for everyone to be gone, hitching rides from the other older kids. Eddie turns to him when everyone has finally left, "Are you staying, Stevie?"
"No. I am leaving too."
Eddie smiles at him, cheeky and dimpled, brown eyes shimmering like a fucking gem against the cheap yellow fluorescent light, "Well then, see you tomorrow, sweetheart."
It clicks. It's not a goodbye, It's a promise. Eddie will see Steve tomorrow, come hell or high water. A promise made for him, and him only.
Steve pulls Eddie by the lapels of his ridiculously shiny jacket and kisses him straight in the mouth.
Steve is 23 when Eddie and him move in to their first apartment together. It's dingy, kind of old, but hey, it's freaking cheap. They unpack boxes of things that was given by Joyce, Karen, Hop, Mrs. Henderson and Mrs. Sinclair. It's not much but it makes their bare home more livable.
They sleep on the floor with Steve's old mattress laid in the middle of the room, unopened boxes and furniture scattered surrounding them.
It's the first night they sleep together in their first home.
"See you tomorrow, sunshine." Eddie kisses his forehead, his nose and then his lips.
Eddie never says goodnight, just see you tomorrow.
Steve is 25 and it's the first time Eddie won't see him tomorrow. Eddie has to go to New York because Corroded Coffin just got discovered by an agent who wants to sign them.
It's okay. Eddie still calls every night, thank God the time differences of Chicago and New York isn't that big. Steve makes sure Robin isn't using the phone, so Eddie could call and tell him about his day with producers and songwriters and music and Steve can tell him about school essays and presentations for his Education class.
And always, always, just like every night since he was 19, Eddie ends the call with, "See you tomorrow." With whatever name he feels like that day. Sometimes it's sunshine, sometimes it's Stevie, sometimes it's love or baby or sweetheart. It doesn't really matter because it's all Steve.
Sometimes it's not true. Steve doesn't see Eddie the next day. Sometimes it goes on weeks and months on ends before the greeting finally means they get to see each other again.
That's okay. Steve's okay with it because if not tomorrow, he knows he'll still see Eddie again.
Steve is 34 when he hears Eddie say the greeting to someone else for the first time. Adoption is exhausting and repetitive and long and grueling but in the end— with a tiny little baby, cradled right against your arm— it's perfect.
Kids are always a mess. Steve knows because he has seven of them already, all grown up, all spread out in the country, all doing things on their own. And it's exhausting and takes out so much energy from you and your partner.
But with Eddie, all the weariness in his bones dissipate at the image of him, rocking their child on a rocking chair, humming a soft song as he finally tells them, "See you tomorrow, peanut."
Steve is 47 when Eddie and him finally get married. Joyce and Robin plan the wedding and as ridiculous as it sounds, they separate the two of them the night before. Steve rolls his eyes, kisses his groom on the cheek and waits for Eddie to say the four magic words.
"See you tomorrow, fiancé." Eddie whispers against his lips.
They get married the next day, under the bright beaming sun, spring flowers surrounding them as their daughter reluctantly spreads flowers for them.
Steve thinks he's heard so many variations of the greeting, but, "See you tomorrow, husband." might be his favorite from all of them.
Steve is 54 and it's the first time Eddie doesn't say it to him before going to bed. They both silently slip into the bed together, hands intertwined together like the other will float away if they let go.
Apparently being tortured and experimented with half of your childhood has some bad outcomes. It's the day they find out that El has a brain tumor.
Steve is 56 and the Party sleeps beside him and Eddie, tucked into each other like they're 15 again. The last time the Party had a sleepover was in 2000. They still all have sleepovers, don't get him wrong. What Steve means is the sleepover where they're all squished together on the floor, clinging onto each other as they sleep soundly, knowing they're safe and sound with their friends.
They have a sleep over just like that one last time.
"See you tomorrow. I love you." Eddie whispers, just as he falls asleep.
The expired eggos in their fridge gets thrown out six months later.
Steve is 65 when he gets to meet their first grandchild. Eddie is adamant that he is not crying, but his glasses make his tears more visible, making them look like actual diamonds coming out of his eyes.
Their daughter laughs, and lets them hold him for the first time. Steve is a blabbering mess of tears, holding the baby close to his chest. They stay the whole night, to help take care of the baby and their daughter.
And there's nothing more beautiful than the moment the nurse has to take their grandchild away from their daughter and she whispers, as gentle as a feather, "See you tomorrow, Ellie."
Steve is 73 when Eddie first forgets to say goodnight. It's Alzheimer's, it's—
It's not okay. It's never going to be okay. But Steve has to be okay, has to carry on for the love of his life. He takes care of Eddie, because he vowed to do so the day they got married, because he loves this man and he will do anything for him.
Steve tucks Eddie at night, after fits of confusion as to where he is, as to who he is, and kisses his forehead, soft and gentle, and says, "See you tomorrow, Eds."
Steve is 82 when he hears it for the last time.
Eddie's health has been declining. Nine years after his first prognosis, Steve takes it as a win, nine years and his love still battles it everyday.
They've been living in a nursing home, Steve is also getting too old to take care of Eddie. His bones are weary in ways that never goes away, his sight and hearing has always been bad but time has made it worst.
There's something called terminal lucidity. The doctors explain to Steve, in the most gentle way he's ever heard, "You're husband will probably, theoretically, have a moment of clarity where he remembers everything and it will seem like you have him back, but for us it is the sign of his health declining further. I am sorry, Mr. Munson."
Eddie gets it a few days later, and they talk nonstop. They talk about the kids, their grandchildren, about their friends, about how they've lived their lives. They open up photo albums, and point and laugh and smile and cry. Steve excuses himself to go to the bathroom, but only so he can call the others, so they could say their goodbyes. The kids fly in, from all around the country, to say goodbye.
Eddie goes a few hours later, warm and comfortable in his bed, cuddled next to Steve with a big dopey smile on his face, "See you tomorrow, Steve."
Steve smiles back, as Eddie closes his eyes. He stops fighting the ache in his bones, the never-ending beat in his scars.
"See you tomorrow, Eddie."
Steve doesn't see Eddie the next day, not the next, not the next, not the nex—
Until, he finally sees Eddie again.
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ashwhowrites · 5 months
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Yay! Your requests are open again!
Eddie + Reader are divorced, but parted on good terms. One day they are at a b-day of one of their mutual friends and get a little tipsy. They start talking and eventually hook up that night.
Reader finds out she is pregnant and decides to keep the baby with Eddie's full support. Throughout the pregnancy, they fall back in love.
<3 Thank you.
This is so cute. A happy ending!!
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3
Oh, Baby
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Falling in love young is always an unexpected journey. Y/N and Eddie felt unstoppable as they fell in love. Young teens that dove into something bigger than they thought they could handle. Fire and full of passion, speeding through too fast for either of them to see when it started to fall apart. They got married right after high school, hitched off to Vegas and she took his last name. Everyone thought they were crazy and dumb. But isn't the saying only fools go rushing in?
The start of their marriage was a fairytale. It was everything they dreamed of and knew they would prove everyone wrong. Because they knew they were meant to be and there was no one else they would ever be with. They fit perfectly together.
As hard as it was, they discovered people change as they grow up. And sometimes can't change together. Eddie and her wanted too many different things, which led them to realize they were meant to be together young, and not to grow old with.
They ended on good terms, both wishing the best for each other. They didn't keep much in contact, knowing it was easier to move on if they went their separate ways. They didn't have anything tying them together so they let go.
~~~
Steve decided to throw himself a huge birthday party for turning thirty. And since he was a friend of Eddie's and Y/N's they both knew there was a chance they'd run into each other.
Y/N may have gotten a new dress and tried extra hard with her makeup. She may have sprayed on Eddie's favorite perfume she used to wear during their marriage. She might have been eyeing the door, dying to see him again.
Eddie may have rolled up his sleeves in the way Y/N always liked. He may have dosed his neck in the cologne that made her legs weak. He might have tied up his hair in a lower bun, knowing his loose curls drove her insane. He might have smoked a cigarette on the way as he calmed his nerves.
Once he walked in, the magnetic connection between them yanked them together instantly. His eyes latched on her as she walked over to him. His nose inhaled her sweet perfume as she wrapped her arms around him. He bit his lip when he pulled away, no shame in checking her out.
She could smell the cologne on his skin, craving to taste him again. She blushed under his stare, the dress doing what she wanted. She couldn't help but check him out as well. She bit her lip as she noticed his thick arms underneath his tight button-up, his sleeves rolled so his tattoos showed. The fancy watch on his wrist and rings on his fingers. Yet, the only finger that remained empty was his ring finger.
"You look incredible." He complimented, his voice deep and raspy. It reminded her of his morning voice, how he'd roll over and whisper right against her ear.
"Thanks, Eds. You do too." Eddie felt like he got lost in her smile all over again.
"Eddie! You made it!" Steve cheered, dragging Eddie out of the room. His brown eyes looked back at her until she was out of his sight.
~~~
The last few people were starting to head out. Y/N had her feet in the pool as she sipped her drink. Steve was picking things up in the backyard, keeping a close eye on her.
"Sure you don't want me to bring you home?" He asked, but she shook off his offer.
"No, I think I'm good to drive." Steve accepted her answer and walked inside. He gave a small smile to Eddie as he passed him. Eddie had his hands in his pockets as he walked up to her. She smiled as he sat next to her, his back to the pool as he stretched out his legs. His shoulder rested against hers as he looked at her.
Neither knew how long they were out there, talking for hours. But they got the cue to leave once Steve was ready for bed.
Just like old times, she held his hand as they walked to his car. His hand was on her thigh as she hummed to the radio. Her stomach was filled with butterflies, but the smile on her face never left. The same feelings she felt on their first date were happening again.
"You still haven't fixed that front step!" Eddie laughed, following behind Y/N as she unlocked the front door. The same house they lived in together before Eddie moved out. Eddie remembered breaking that step when they moved in, carrying way too many boxes.
"It's our first memory in this house, I never want to fix it." She shrugged, taking off her shoes as he walked in behind her. He looked around, not much had changed. The pictures of them were taken off the walls, and replaced with their friends. All the things he took with him kept the place empty, he realized she never replaced his things with anything new.
"I kinda figured you'd make this place into your own," Eddie admitted, walking further into the small house. He didn't hear her behind him, and she didn't say a word.
She walked into the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of wine, and poured two glasses. She let Eddie look around the house as she grabbed the glasses and headed to the couch.
After a second, Eddie joined her. Both filled up the silence with random conversations as they sipped glass after glass.
As time went on, she found herself and Eddie moving closer to closer. Then she felt his lips on hers, his hands eagerly touching her. She felt like he took all her breath away, his hands touching her the same way they used to. His kiss felt the same.
~~~
It's been a week since she and Eddie had sex. She felt relieved that he was still there when she woke up. It was awkward at first, neither knowing what to say or what the next step was.
But they were divorced, and they had to remind themselves of that.
She didn't plan on seeing Eddie much after that, just a little backslide but she's back on the path of moving forward.
That was until she found out she was pregnant. She knew it was Eddie's since she hadn't been with anyone lately. She was worried Eddie might not want to be brought back together again. But the excitement that was on his face washed all her worries away. He cheered and spun her around.
He always wanted a family and he always wanted it with her.
He didn't let her do a single thing alone. He went to every appointment, holding her hand as they stared at the screen. They went to every baby store, and he insisted on buying everything she wanted. Together they worked on the nursery at her house, Eddie painted the room and cleaned up the floors. She couldn't help but feel so much love for him as he worked to put the nursery together. His touch all around the room.
Some nights he stayed on the couch, the more she grew the more nervous he got leaving her alone. If there was ever an issue, no matter the time, he'd show up at her door.
She couldn't help but wish the divorce never happened, that Eddie was still hers. But in a way, she felt like they needed the divorce to grow on their own. And be better for each other.
"I still can't believe I did that!" Eddie groaned, Y/N laughed at his embarrassment, rubbing her stomach as she retold the story of when Eddie got drunk and met her parents for the first time.
They found themselves traveling down their memories every time they hung out. Digging up old feelings and showing them on their arms.
"Why are you laughing? You met Wayne right after you sucked me off!" Eddie said, laughing as she covered her face in horror.
"We were so crazy back then." Y/N sighed after their laughter died. Her hand was on her bump as she looked at him. "We were so in love and inseparable. What happened to us?"
Eddie looked over at her, his hand reaching to rub her stomach. His eyes were soft as he looked into her eyes.
"We grew up. I was nowhere near a good husband for you. I wanted to be, but we were too young to try to save a love like that. But there was never a day I didn't think about you." He admitted, dropping to his knees as he rested his chin on her bump.
She leaned down and rubbed his cheek, melting at his brown eyes.
"I always thought about you too. I know we were young and neither of us knew how to fight for each other, just against each other. But do you ever think about us if we did make it through? If we kept trying instead of giving up?"
"Sometimes," Eddie admitted, leaning into her touch. "But look where we are now. I think we needed to grow up on our own. Without the fear of disappointing each other. It helped us truly focus on just ourselves. And now? We are having a baby. Exactly where I always wanted to be with you." He kissed her stomach softly, resting his head against her as she played with his hair.
Before she could say something, she felt something. A harsh cramp in her stomach. She gasped and gripped Eddie's shoulders. His worried eyes looked at her as he felt something in her stomach.
"Was that?"
"Did he?"
Then another cramp, Y/N smiled when she realized their baby was kicking.
"Eddie! He's kicking!" She announced, Eddie quickly placed his hands on her stomach.
"Kick for daddy." He said, a smile on his face as he felt a hit against his palm.
Y/N felt tears in her eyes as she watched Eddie excitedly talk to the baby and wait for kicks. The excitement in his bright eyes and the love.
"I love you." She whispered, sniffling.
He looked up, hand on her stomach and the other hand on her cheek. He rubbed her tears away.
"I love you too."
Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37
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waitingonher · 1 year
Text
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dating percy jackson
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pairing: percy jackson x gn! reader
content warning: kissing & couple-ly things
word count: 2,144
author's note: first post on this account!! if any of this sounds familiar, it's cuz i used to have an account but i deleted it cuz i wanted to redo it or smth…LOL 😭😭 but requests are open and i'll be coming out with more original work. enjoy!!
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dating percy jackson would be like dating your best friend who you kiss and cuddle with occasionally.
percy’s not a very high maintenance kind of guy, so dating him would be more chill and relaxed. despite this, he’s still so, so incredibly sweet and cares about you so much.
even if he’s very oblivious sometimes…he’s still a sweetheart! 
he’ll do absolutely everything in his power to ensure that you’re safe and alright.
going on quests with him can lowkey get annoying sometimes because he’s always trying to protect you. 
but don’t get me wrong, he knows for a fact that you can definitely handle yourself, but he’s been through so much and the last thing he wants is you becoming injured or worse!! 
his protectiveness comes from a very genuine place, and you know that, but you sometimes like to tease him about it. 
your boyfriend suspiciously eyes the cave you’re supposed to inspect for your current quest, “y/n…” he pauses, turning to look at you, “are you 100 percent sure you’re gonna be okay all alone in there? i don’t like how quiet everything is.” 
you quirk an eyebrow at him, “percy, you’ve asked me this so many times that now i’m starting to think you’re doubting me and my abilities.” 
his eyes widen as he gives you a look of panic, “wait y/n no, i swear i didn’t mean it like that, i was just-” 
you put your arms around his neck, “babe, i’m teasing. i know you wouldn’t do that,” you say, chuckling at his reaction. 
percy rolls his eyes at you and places his hands on your waist, pulling you in for a kiss, “you’re the worst.” 
“i know,” you respond, laughing at your boyfriend. 
if you’re going on a quest without him though…expect him to be 100x more worried about you.
part of him wants to sneak out of camp to join you, but he knows that you’re more than capable of handling a quest without him.
all he can do is just make sure you’re prepared.
nothing, and i mean nothing will be forgotten as long as you have percy.
the night before you leave, he’ll ask you to sneak over to his cabin so he could spend as much time with you as possible.
percy claims it’ll be “a night full of relaxation before your big quest,” but with the way he’s bombarding you with questions regarding your preparedness, you don’t think you’re going to be in for a very relaxing night.
after taking a sip of your tea, you peer over at your boyfriend who opens his mouth to say something, “okay-” 
“love, if you’re going to ask me if i have everything, then the answer is yes,” you utter, leaning in to fix the crooked sheet mask on his face. 
percy chuckles, “how’d you know that’s what i was gonna say?”
“maybe it’s because you’ve been asking me that ever since i got here.” 
he smiles sheepishly, “oh…right.” 
and when you leave in the morning he’s asking you again if you have everything?? as if your supplies somehow vanished as you guys slept the previous night…
iris messages are also a HUGE thing between you guys. 
whether the two of you are away at school, or on a quest without each other, iris messages would be made at every single opportunity. 
cabin sleepovers are a regular for you and percy!
you guys try to have them every couple of weeks and it’s actually a mystery as to how you haven’t been caught yet.
you’ve definitely curated many funny stories of how you’d almost been discovered by a harpy.
percy prefers that you come over to his cabin instead of him going to yours.
this may or may not be due to that one incredibly embarrassing moment where a few of your siblings caught you guys kissing in your cabin’s bathroom… (you and percy were teased for a solid week after that incident) 
it’s safe to say that your boyfriend’s cabin has been the location of all your sleepovers since then. 
you and percy DEFINITELY come up with a really intricate handshake.
it’s the type of handshake that takes more than thirty seconds to complete and consumed most of your free time while you two were memorizing it.
“percy, i love you, but i swear to the gods, if you mess this up again…” 
“um…sorry y/n, but does my leg move this way or that way?” 
but once you and him had the routine down, your friends and other couples around camp were SO annoyed with you guys! 
looking back on it, you two lowkey feel bad for making them watch you guys perform your handshake for minutes on end. 
but what can you say? it’s just too good to not show off.  
you glance up from your interlocked hands with percy and turn your head to face your friends, “okay, are you guys sure you’re looking?” 
annabeth nods tiredly, “yes y/n…we’ve all been watching for the past ten minutes.”
“guys, i swear this is the last time we’ll do it and then you guys can go to bed,” percy announces to the group. 
your friends all collectively let out a groan at the thought of sitting through yet another round of your guys’ handshake. 
you overhear percy talking to one of his friends at the campfire, “okay sure, she might’ve written a song dedicated to you, but did you two create a thirty second long handshake that took literal weeks to memorize? that’s right. i didn’t think so dude.” 
dates are kinda limited at camp, but you guys make do with what you have! 
beach/lake dates are a total must for you and him. 
if you’re not completely confident in your swimming skills, then he’ll take it as an opportunity to teach you!
but if you are a competent swimmer, expect tons and tons of competitions.
whether it be races across the lake or seeing who can hold their breath the longest, you guys have done it all. 
percy then has the audacity to be surprised when he wins every single time…as if he isn’t a son of poseidon?? 
one of your favorite dates of all time was when you and percy went strawberry picking! after picking them, you two attempted to make your own homemade strawberry jam. and to your amazement, it actually turned out okay?? :O
all your friends were pleasantly surprised to hear that no one had burned the kitchen down. 
he also loves to participate in any activities or hobbies that you’re into.
on his own time, percy would try to research or ask your siblings/friends about your hobbies! (he doesn’t want you to find out though) 
he wants to learn more because he genuinely finds them interesting and wants to understand all the terms and definitions of the things you talk about.
but the biggest reason why percy does it, is so he can see your reaction when you talk to him about the subject and he actually responds with an educated answer on the matter instead of his usual head nods! the way your eyes widen and your lips pull back to display the beautiful grin that he’s grown to love so dearly!! it’s like he’s fallen in love all over again. 
once he sees the way you’re smiling at him, he thinks that he wouldn’t mind spending a few more hours in the library. 
percy loves that you show genuine enthusiasm when it comes to his passions and hobbies, so it’s a given that he wants to make you feel the same way. 
if he could, percy could honestly spend all day listening to you talk about your passions. it’s just something in the way your eyes light up that has him utterly hooked.
percy looks at you with such adoration that sometimes you think he’s bored of your rambling.
“ugh, i just love it when-” you gaze down at your boyfriend who has his head resting on your lap. you notice that he’s staring at you, “oh sorry percy, i didn’t mean to bore you.” 
he shoots up out of your lap and looks at you, absolutely dumbfounded, “bored?”
you nod.
“babe, how could i ever be bored of you?” your boyfriend questions with such certainty, as if it were a genuine mystery he wants to know the answer to. 
you give him a shy smile, “i dunno, it’s just you weren’t responding so i thought you got tired of me talking.“
percy smiles sheepishly, “sorry, i just didn’t wanna interrupt you, you looked so happy. and trust me, y/n, i’d listen to you talk all day long if i could.”
you chuckle at his reassurance and lean in for a chaste kiss, “okay weirdo.” 
you guys are that one couple who literally can communicate solely through eye contact. 
someone’s acting stupid in public? you look at percy and he looks at you. next thing you know, the both of you are stifling your laughter. 
on a quest and something feels off? one swift glance at each other and you immediately know what your next plan of action is. 
sometimes it does get annoying though. because now you’re in the middle of a serious camp meeting, tearing up while attempting to hold in the loud cackle you’re both about to let out. 
all because you looked at each other at the wrong moment.
#telapathicconnection
percy also loves it when you wear his clothes!
especially when it’s a jacket or hoodie of his. it’s more personal to percy because it’s not just any other camp half-blood shirt that everyone has. 
he just feels so prideful knowing that it’s you walking around in his clothes. he just goes wild at the sight of you in them. to him, it’s a very effective way of telling everyone that you guys are dating. percy wants the world to know that you’re his and his only! 
one thing about percy is that no matter what, he’ll always make time for you.
oh you’re not feeling well? he’s dropping whatever he’s doing to go see you. you need someone to talk to? he won’t leave you feeling upset, so he’ll create an excuse to leave the sparring arena. 
you obviously do the same for your boyfriend, but you think it’s endearing how he’s so dedicated to you and will do absolutely anything to be there for you. 
when it comes to pda, he doesn’t really mind. his favorite form of pda is hand holding! whether you’re holding hands, linking pinkies, or linking arms, he just loves to show you off while walking about the camp grounds. in general, he just prefers to be touching you in some sort of way. 
at the campfire, he likes to have your hand in his lap so he can play with your fingers. (or your rings/bracelets if you do wear them!)
when you’re in bed, he likes to wrap his arm around your waist. but if you’re not big on cuddling, percy makes sure that his leg is touching your leg, or that he’s at least holding your hand. the list goes on but it’s just his way of telling you that he’s there, by your side!! 
you guys also most definitely have a polaroid camera. one christmas, you gifted him a dark blue polaroid and ever since then, it’s just been nonstop photos of one another. because of the fact that phones aren’t allowed, this is the next best thing to capture memories.
percy can’t even name how many photos he has of you in his nightstand, there’s a lot. so many to the point that he uses an old shoe box of his to hold them all.
but his absolute favorite photo (he keeps this one in his wallet) is a photo of you two sitting on the edge of the pier at the canoe lake. it was taken just after training, sweat drips down both of your temples, and your guys’ cheeks are flushed red. percy is holding the camera with his right hand while he has his left hand wrapped around your shoulders, both of you leaning into each other. and the sun is setting, shades of purples and oranges swirling together to create a gorgeous backdrop for the photo. you two are both smiling, eyes scrunched tightly (partially due to the sun) and teeth wide on display.
he just thoroughly adores your smile.
percy thinks you’re the prettiest person he’s ever seen. especially when you smile like that. and to think that’s how happy he makes you?? he could die happily with no regrets.
all in all, percy jackson is such an amazing boyfriend who loves you with all of his being. 10/10 would definitely date again!! 
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1K notes · View notes
vampmorgue · 6 months
Text
𝐓𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐃𝐨 𝐔𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭
𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
series masterlist
Chapter 1: Promises
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📖 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘:
𝐀𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠-𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝, 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭.
𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 red 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐬 purple.
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⚠ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒: 18+, afab reader, kook!reader, toxic!rafe, dark!rafe, ghostface!rafe, dark themes, toxic relationship, mentions of addiction, manipulation, jealousy, guilt tripping, love bombing, anxiety mention, profanity, [ smut: unprotected piv, dry humping, oral fem receiving, fingering, edging, slight face fucking?, handjob, missionary, cowgirl, overstim, praise, breeding & choking kink ] mentions of blood, slight gore, knife use, murder & death.
📑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3.7k
🦇 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: it’s here!!! it’s also the way i was supposed to post this in the summer but then got unmotivated then got back on it and it’s perfect for the season now, happy october! anyway i’m so excited about this mini-series as i have loved the scream franchise for years so i hope you enjoy this as much as i did writing it. (this is also my first attempt at writing smut and actually posting it, but we all start somewhere so hopefully it’s decent.) let me know if you’d like to be on the taglist !
💌 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @assi-me-issa @darkscrossfire @mounthings
©𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃: 𝐃𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩/𝐰𝐞𝐛𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞.
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Ever since you got accepted into your dream university on the West Coast, you had a weight lifted off your shoulders, at least a little bit of it.
Your family and friends were all happy and excited for you to achieve your dreams that were coming true, except your boyfriend, Rafe who didn't seem too fond of it even if he said he was. There was only a month left until you had to leave for university, and it's been recently that you thought of breaking up with Rafe. As fucked up as you felt it was, you had your reasoning.
Before issues started, Rafe had given you a promise ring after you graduated high school, and you did see yourself with him as everything seemed so beautiful at the time if you put aside the bad parts beginning to worsen as you and Rafe had spent the entire summertime together meaning you had little time to yourself. Your reasoning for breaking up with him other than a long-distance relationship; Rafe's addiction was worsening then after a couple of tries of helping him was a fail and him treating you worse than ever, and your intuition was feeling weirder every day, you started questioning yourself if you wanted to be with someone like that, but when you took time to yourself while Rafe was away for a little while on vacation with his family, you discovered yourself more and needed to put yourself and dreams first. You couldn’t let anything get in the way of that just like Rafe and his problems were starting to affect it by distracting you. He had graduated a year before you, so you would’ve assumed he had his life figured out already, especially with the kind of father Rafe has, but he didn’t.
You told Rafe to come over as you wanted to tell him in person how you felt. He agreed to it since he wanted to spend more time with you before you left, even though he hated thinking about it, despising it even. Rafe never expected you to leave him, although it was a fear he had.
“Why did you start to think that us parting ways is the best idea?!” Rafe asks you with offense in his tone.
“Because it is!” you protest, “It’s always been my dream to go to school on the West Coast, and I want to focus on that— my career, everything!”
“We can make it work!” Rafe insists, “I can’t believe you want to throw away three years just like that?”
“That was never my plan, Rafe.” you say, “But as the day gets closer… I can’t see us together. You refuse any help on your addiction which is getting worse, and you know that. We’re both going on two completely different paths. We wouldn’t work— most long-distance relationships don't work."
“This is fucking bullshit,” Rafe mutters to himself, slamming your bedroom door shut and leaving your home.
This wasn’t over, even the relationship, and you knew you two would have to talk again, but you didn’t know when. You sigh as you sit on your bed running your fingers through your hair. A part of you felt awful and guilty, and the other part felt relieved to say how you felt toward him; it was like the knot in your stomach was finally detangled, but not completely.
Arguing with Rafe was exhausting enough, no matter how much you had tried giving out you're reasoning in whatever you two would go on about, but your boyfriend always had to have his way.
𖤓
The next night, to your surprise, he had called you first, but Rafe usually held in a grudge for more than a day, so you wondered what had changed if any change at all.
“Hey,” Rafe says through the phone.
“Hi, Rafe,”
“Listen I... I’m sorry about yesterday,” he apologizes, “I just think you haven’t thought it through enough… I love you, Y/N.”
You felt sorry not only for yourself but for him, too. Your gut telling you one thing, but your heart was telling you another. You started to fidget with your promise ring, but you couldn’t take it off nor return it, and it’s not like Rafe would accept the ring back because he wouldn’t and more than likely would never, and a cloud of confusion was surrounding you. Maybe giving him a chance couldn’t seem to hurt you as much as you thought it could.
“Just come over so we can talk things out,” you respond, rubbing the side of your temple.
And with that, Rafe didn’t hesitate and was over within ten minutes. You had texted him to let him know that the front door of your home was unlocked and to head over to your room.
You heard footsteps approaching and saw the door opening with Rafe behind it with slightly red eyes and dilated pupils. Perhaps he was crying as your initial thought while also in denial that he was high, but you were afraid to ask as you wanted the night to end up good and both sides happy and not lose sleep due to your boyfriend's issues. Anxiety was running through you as it made you feel sick to your stomach.
“Look, I’m sorry about last night,” he continues, “I-I shouldn’t have walked out like that, but I also should’ve listened to how you felt.”
“Yes, you should’ve, Rafe.” you express, crossing your arms.
“Y/N, I’m just worried, okay?!” Rafe gestures with his hands.
“About what?”
“You,”
“What about me?”
He sighs as he’s already frustrated with the conversation, “Your safety… you’re on the other side of the country. How will I know you’ll be okay at all times? I can barely even visit you on top of that— it’s just messing with me, okay? I-I don’t know how I’m supposed to cope with this. I need you to tell me how to cope."
“You’re proving my point exactly.” you imply, playing with your ring, “I knew you wouldn’t take it well, and I’d rather you focus on yourself, especially on how much pressure your father is putting on you about the business.”
“Hey! I didn’t come here to talk about that, alright?” he snaps quickly but stops himself from getting even more angry. “Sorry, bad habit…”
“So I’ve seen,” you nod, taking a step closer to him, “But this is both of our futures we’re talking about.”
“I got mine figured out.” he shrugs in denial, “I just need you to figure out yours, that’s all.”
You chuckle in disbelief, “I’ve already told you mine, Rafe. I suggest you listen to your own advice like do you even hear yourself right now?”
"Y/N, I can't imagine my life without you when you play such a big part in it." Rafe vents, “How are you going to be okay there all alone?”
“I can take care of myself just fine, but I won’t be alone,” you mention, “My best friend, Axel got accepted there, too, remember?”
His eyes narrowed at the name you had just mentioned. "Yeah, I remember." He didn’t like that.
Rafe had always shown jealousy towards your best friend, Axel, ever since you two started dating. It wasn’t much of a problem until Rafe had spammed you with calls and texts then confrontations in the end when you were out with Axel more than you had planned to.
He felt as if he were to lose you to someone or something then he knew a part of him would die. He couldn’t bear the thought, even just living in the reality of it and his worst nightmare seeming to come true.
"Please, just give us a chance. I want to make this work out for the both of us," he begs, taking your hands with his and rubbing the ring.
“I’ve given you chances before!” you acknowledge.
“But this time is different! I promise!” he pleads with desperation written all over his eyes.
"And you’ve made promises before that weren’t kept!” you exclaim, pulling your hands away from his.
You felt stuck in the situation. You wanted to cry out of the stress and frustration because it felt like choosing between Rafe and your future, but was Rafe a part of your future or not?
“I won’t break another this time, I promise.” he went on, “This is going to be different, okay? I never want us to be apart…”
His words made you feel a little uneasy, but you didn’t know what to do at this point.
“Let me think about it, please,” you insist, wanting to be left alone in your thoughts, “Just go home and get some rest.”
He nods but then hesitates to leave, “Can I at least show you that I do love you?”
Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, but you agree to it anyway, “Yeah… sure,”
Rafe grabs your waist and pulls you into a kiss to show you that he’s missed this and you especially. After the tension near the end of summer, you and Rafe weren’t as intimate with each other as you both were before, except now everything was slowly coming back as it once was. You kiss back, and you’re surprised at yourself but mostly content.
He lays you onto your bed slowly as he goes down your neck with kisses and marks you. One thing about Rafe is that he was always going to make sure the hickeys were always visible. He tugs off the end of your shirt and looks at you for permission, and you nod, but he needs you to say it.
“I need to hear you say it, baby,”
“Yes, go on,” you answer.
Rafe lifts your shirt off as you take his off too and reveals that you’re not wearing a bra, no complaints though, he loves it. “Fuck, you’re so perfect,” his eyes scan you and his hand travels to your breast, squeezing one as he marks the other making you whine. He was still on top of you and went back to kissing your lips, caressing your neck slightly, and gripping it while grinding himself on you as you felt him getting hard through his clothing. Rafe was eager, but so were you. Perhaps you were missing the feeling of being wanted by the other, maybe it was driving you into that stressful mindset earlier, and maybe you just needed to get fucked; it has been a while.
His arousal was turning you on even more, but you already wanted and needed more of him. “Please… I need you, Rafe.”
“I’m all yours,” he assures while getting up and pulling down your shorts and lowering his head, giving kisses to your inner thighs. He wraps his arms around your thighs and goes down on you with his tongue swirling around your clit and sucking harshly. Two of his fingers enter inside your folds, going in and out at a slow pace only to tease you while his cold rings add to the sensation. “Go faster,” you say.
Rafe does as you say while he devours you as if he is craving you, which he is. “Oh, fuck,” you moan, arching your back as you grind against his mouth. He smirks at the look of your satisfaction. He continues while his other hand travels to your breast, squeezing it, and you lay your hand upon him while you run your fingers through his hair on the other.
A vibration was going through your body as you felt your climax reaching, “I’m close,” you mention and Rafe stops, “Why’d you stop?” you question him with the disappointment that was clear in your voice.
“I’m not just stopping there.” he laughs softly as he unbuckles his belt.
“Wait,” you pause, “Do you have a condom?”
“If I knew this would happen, I would’ve,” he admits.
“Whatever, I’m on the pill, anyway.” you grab his face and pull him down to your level kissing him again and his tongue enters your mouth.
Rafe started stroking himself as he already was dripping with precum, but you take over by teasing him by palming the tip, and then stroking him as he’s massaging your swollen clit with his hand while you start stroking him faster to tease him back from earlier which caught him by surprise in a good way. “Aw, fuck, just like that,” he catches a glimpse of the way your acrylic nails looked so pretty as you’re stroking him, “I’m paying for your next set just so you know.” He pecks your lips.
“I need you… now.” you whine, and he quickly adjusts himself, “You ready?” he smirks.
“Yes,” you respond, wrapping your legs around his hips.
He starts slow at first so you can get used to it again and wait to give him the okay to go faster. “Tell me if it hurts, it's been a while,” he reassures, and you nod.
Rafe grips your hips as he thrusts in deeper and deeper, “Okay, go faster,” you confirm, and he fastens his pace making your body feel euphoric. His grip on you was so strong, but you were numb to it as the pleasure he was giving you was taking over. “H-harder!” you demand, moaning in his ear.
“Fuck!" he swears in between his moans and lets go of your left hip to put a grip on your neck slightly choking you and looks into your eyes. “God, if only you could see yourself right now, you look and feel so fucking amazing.”
Your smile in pleasure as you dig your nails, leaving scratch marks on his back from how fast and hard, he’s going. Rafe didn’t mind it though, it added to the fun, and it felt good to him as well.
“I-I wanna ride you,” you confess as you’re catching air and Rafe slows down. “Did you say you wanna ride-”
“Yes,” you confidently reply.
Rafe asks again, "Are you sure? You've never done that before, it might hurt."
"But I want to now," you reassure him, and he softly kisses you and happily switches positions with you to do so.
You forget how big he is as you're readjusting yourself until you're comfortable since it's different from your point of view then you ride him slowly to start. “You can take it. I know you can,” he grins.
Rafe squeezes your thighs and your hips then holds on there as you start going faster, he could’ve came right then and there but wanted you to do so first. In his world, you’ll always be his priority.
“Mhmm,” you moan with your eyes rolling back as you feel your g spot being hit perfectly making you moan again so loudly that you were so glad you had the house all to yourself tonight, “Holy fuck! You’re doing so good, beautiful, so good.” Rafe praises you and pulls you into a hug while you’re still riding him, he stuffs his face between your breasts with kisses traveling to your neck and sucking harshly creating more marks, and you’ll look bruised by the end of the night.
At this point, you start seeing stars and feel your high coming, “I’m close!” you cry out.
“So am I, you want me to fill you up, huh?” Rafe teases, “I’ll gladly do so, I’d do anything for you, I promise you that.”
You spill all over him as he fills you up right after which awakens something in you to keep going. Rafe is caught off guard, but it feels so good, “Awh, f-fuck,” he doesn’t want you to stop but his stamina is running out.
“You can take it,” you smile as you mimic the way he teased before and you take his hands to your breasts massaging them.
He whimpers at his overstimulation causing to you smirk, “Come on, I thought you said you wanted to fill me up? You can do it one more time for me, I know you can.” you tease, and once he hears that, he does as you both mentioned feeling the warmth spilling out.
“That was fucking amazing and so were you,” he says as you lay down next to him, catching your breath.
“Back at you,” you kiss him and he grabs to the tissues on your nightstand to get you cleaned up.
Rafe smiles and pulls the sheets up to you both to keep you from getting cold.
“I’m sorry about yesterday, too,” you add, “I guess a lot was going on, it added to the stress.”
“You don’t need to apologize, I’ll always be here when you need anything, even if it’s just my company. I promise.” Rafe reassures, pulling you into his arms.
“Thank you,” your eyes lighting up at him, “I love you, Rafe,”
“I love you more,” he kisses your forehead, “Get some sleep, it was a long night after all.”
You chuckle and close your eyes, feeling safe in his arms.
𝟏:𝟎𝟔 𝐀𝐌
Rafe woke up nearly forgetting where he was but smiled to himself when he saw you still silently asleep in his arms. He looks at the alarm clock on your nightstand and sees the time. It's not as late as he thought it was, but Rafe had a plan before coming over, and that was to get rid of someone or something that stands in the way of your relationship with him. The first one was your best friend, Axel.
It was the perfect night to do as your parents were on a trip with Axel's parents which meant he was also home alone. The adrenaline was rushing through Rafe as he quietly got out of bed trying not to wake you which wasn't much of a problem since you are a heavy sleeper. He gets dressed and makes sure to turn off his phone since he had no intention of bringing it with him and hides his phone in a dresser you have and makes sure to put it on the bottom with clothing on top of it to hide it.
Rafe nearly swears out loud when he remembers he can't go out the front door nor the back doors since your phone and your parent's devices get notifications of the doors opening and closing. Luckily for him, he snuck out through your bedroom window which is the same window you used to use to sneak out of. He successfully made it to his car and drove it down to the destination he needed to be at l, Axel's house.
Arriving at the house but far away enough to not be seen, Rafe remembered about the costume hidden in his trunk, he had a plan. It seemed silly at first to wear one, but he wasn't planning on getting caught, although the thought of recreating one of his favorite movies was exciting to him. Imagining the people, he hates suffering in agony had brought a type of satisfaction to him, but now there was no more imagining it; he was bringing it to life while a life pays for it to be seen by his very own eyes.
There Axel was peacefully painting a new art canvas. He was going to major in art, but why did it have to be the same university as you? That's what Rafe's problem was. His house was built with lots of those types of windows where anyone could easily see anything. Rafe had already put on the black cloak and the mask with a knife ready in his hand and hid where there were no windows then he pulled out a burner phone he had prepared with the voice changer to give Axel a call.
"Hello?"
"What's your favorite scary movie?"
"That's so original, isn't it?"
"If you wanna talk about something original, you're speaking to the original."
"Alright, listen, man, you got the wrong number. Nice impression though, bye–”
"If you hang up on me, I'll smear your own blood on that canvas you were painting!"
Axel's heart drops and looks around the windows outside, but he sees nothing except the pitch-black night.
Rafe laughs at the silence knowing Axel is scared for his life.
"What do you want from me?"
"I'm not asking for much only just your life."
Rafe sees he's next to the electrical panel and cuts the wires making all the power go off.
"Stop fucking with me, man! I'll call the cops."
"Oh, I don't they'd have enough time to get here, you do live in the middle of the woods." Rafe grabs a large heavy rock with his hand, "Besides, you'll be dead by the time they get here." 
Quickly, Rafe throws the rock to a window to distract Axel and runs to the other side where a door with a glass window that he needs to break to unlock the door.
Rafe succeeds in breaking into the house and hears Axel in another room swearing to himself.
"Shit, this can't be happening," Axel shakes as he tries to find something to defend himself with while Rafe is in the kitchen and throws a glass cup to the living across from him where he saw Axel painting earlier just to see if he'll move.
Axel tries to run out the front door but Rafe sneaks up behind by stabbing him in the back and then putting him in a chokehold before he starts stabbing his chest and stomach multiple times making Axel scream in agony, but he fights back throwing himself backward with Rafe to the wall of glass picture frames and making them both fall to the ground as glass shatters everywhere. Rafe quickly gets up and looks down at Axel who struggles to get up by slipping in his own pool of blood. Rafe kneels to him as he watches him suffer in his own agony and waves his knife around.
Rafe starts swinging his knife again but misses and slices the bloody canvas instead when Axel flips over his body to avoid the knife. This angers Rafe even more to which he wipes his knife with his gloves then stabs the knife onto a wooden table, and grabs Axel by the collar of his shirt making him face the mirror then grabs his knife again and points with it. "Take a good fucking look because this is the last thing you'll ever see before you die," Rafe scowls in his normal voice.
"R-Rafe?' Axel struggles to say before Rafe sliced his throat open and is left there to bleed to his death.
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504 notes · View notes
maidragoste · 6 months
Text
The Parent Trap: Chapter Two
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Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader x Aemond Targaryen
Summary: After the disastrous divorce between Aemond Targaryen and Y/n Velaryon the twins Baelon and Aemon were separated. Each was raised by one of their parents. Baelon was raised by his father while Aemon was raised by his mother. Years later they both meet at a summer camp and discover the existence of the other. The twins realize that there are many secrets in their family, eager to discover their past, they put together a plan to deceive their parents.
Masterlist
Thank you for your support, I was nervous that people wouldn't like it because the fic wasn't the same as the movie so I'm very happy to read all your comments. REBLOGS, comments and likes are always appreciated 🥰🥰💕💕💕
Btw, I made two playlists for this fic. One is from Aemond and the Reader and another is from Reader and Aegon. As I keep writing I'll probably add more songs or even delete some, who knows. If you have songs for me to add or are curious to know why, you are welcome to write to me in my inbox.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.
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Ten years earlier
Your leg kept moving up and down. Your eyes are constantly directed to the door, expecting that at any moment Aemond would return home. You tried to distract yourself by watching TV but you were too anxious. Your mind couldn't focus on the stupid movie because all you could think about was the positive sign on the pregnancy tests you had taken that afternoon with Rhaena and Jace by your side. You regretted telling them to leave. If they were with you they would be preventing you from locking yourself in your own mind. They would make you tell them your fears and they would try to calm you down. The three of them would be making plans. You might even be practicing with Jace how the hell tell Aemond they were going to be parents.
You and Aemond would be parents. You would be a mother. You always knew you would have children, you wanted the happily ever after with the wedding and children like they always showed in the movies, but now you are terrified. It wasn't supposed to be like this. You're barely twenty-three years old, you haven't even finished your second year of editorial editing. It was assumed that when you had children you would be at least over twenty-seven, your career—a career you were truly passionate about—would be finished, you would have a good job, and you would be married. You tried to console yourself by telling yourself that at least you're in a stable relationship. You and Aemond have been dating for three years. You two knew each other since you were little because your godmother is Aemond's older sister and then you ended up attending the same school so you spent a lot of time together. You still remember like it was yesterday how nervous you were when you first kissed Aemond during New Year's. You were afraid of ruining your friendship and that things would become awkward but he didn't pull away when you kissed him he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him. That night they hid from everyone and spent the rest of the celebration kissing. The next day they started dating. From there everything was wonderful. Like any couple, you and Aemond have your run-ins—like when you argued because you didn't like the way he behaved with Jace, your best friend, or when Aemond got mad at you because you made the two of you leave the restaurant you were having a date at. to pick up a drunk Aegon in a bar again—but there was definitely more joy than displeasure in your relationship with Aemond. You saw yourself having a future with him, you could see yourself perfectly next to him in your white dress. You can imagine Aemond putting a baby to sleep while he lulls it to sleep in High Valyrian. Are you sure you want a future with Aemond. But you're terrified of his reaction to this unexpected news. What would you do if Aemond didn't want to keep the baby? You would have to break up with him. Even though you were scared, you knew you wanted to keep the baby. That was clear to you.
You heard the door open and it didn't take long for your boyfriend to enter. You got up from the couch and went to hug him. Whenever he returned home you welcomed him with a hug and kisses. This time you held on to him longer than usual, wanting to remember the feeling of Aemond's arms around you in case this was the last time.
You were about to kiss him but he turned your face away from him making your heart skip a beat. Before you could move away he gently grabbed your chin and studied you carefully. Of course, he had realized something was happening to you when you were clinging so fiercely to him.
“What's wrong?” he asked. Aemond first wanted to know what was happening to you before you kissed him.
Once again you regretted kicking Rhaena and Jace out. At least you should have taken advantage of this time alone to practice in front of the mirror how to tell your boyfriend that you are pregnant. Or you could have called your parents to help you. Although knowing them they would tell you to keep the secret so that the three of them could plan a big announcement together. But you couldn't wait, you need to know now what Aemond was thinking. You needed to know whether or not he would be with you on this trip.
“Y/n?” Your boyfriend called you, feeling his concern growing with every second that you remained silent.
“I think I'm pregnant” You closed your eyes feeling frustrated with yourself and hurried to correct yourself “I mean, I'm pregnant” You tried not to panic as you felt him move away from you “I haven't had any blood tests done yet but I'm One hundred percent sure I'm pregnant. I took five pregnancy tests and they all came back positive.”Your nerves were evident because you were talking faster than normal and you couldn't stop gesturing with your hands.
Aemond felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water on him. This was not in his plans. Right now he was focused on opening his own publishing house, he needed to focus all of his attention on that, he didn't need a distraction and a baby would be that. Taking care of a child would take up too much time. But I couldn't tell you that. I'd be an idiot if I told you that. His mother didn't raise him to be an idiot.
“Marry me,” he said, knowing it was the right thing to do. Besides, ever since you two moved in together, he knew you were going to get married. He knows that he wants to spend the rest of his life waking up next to you, he wants your face to be the first and last thing he sees, he wants to come home and always be greeted with your kisses, he wants you to tell him about your day while the two of you have dinner, He wants to hear your theories about the TV shows you watch together. Aemond wants everything with you, even the most mundane things like going grocery shopping or walking the dogs. He loves you. The only reasons Aemond hadn't proposed to you already was because he wanted to wait until you finished college and he wanted his publishing company to be established. Planning a wedding was a big deal and you two didn't have time for that. But now it didn't matter anymore. “Marry me,” he said again with a smile as he saw how you opened your eyes and looked at him as if he were giving you the moon.
You couldn't help but laugh at yourself, feeling like an idiot for doubting Aemond. Maybe it wasn't the romantic proposal you had dreamed of but you didn't care. You were so relieved and so glad you didn't have to do this alone.
“Yes,” you responded with your heart racing and tears in your eyes. “Yes!” you repeated louder this time before throwing yourself into your fiancé's arms. You began to laugh as Aemond picked you up and spun you around. Your fears were forgotten. The only thing you felt at that moment was happiness.
Present
Aemon found it strange that when he arrived at camp Rickon was not waiting for him at the entrance like the previous years. He assumed this time that the trip had tired him too much and he went to take a nap in his cabin. So he decided to go there first instead of searching for him throughout the rest of the camp. If Rickon wasn't there at least he would leave his suitcases so he could walk comfortably.
When he entered the cabin he expected to find it empty or his best friend sleeping. He never imagined that an almost exact copy of him would be found walking back and forth all over the place. Aemon is not proud but his first reaction is to scream and throw his suitcase at him with all his might.
“Dude, what the hell?!” his copy shouted, barely managing to cum in time to avoid being hit.
“What happened?!” Rickon asked, also screaming, running out of the bathroom. “Aemon you finally arrived!” He ran to hug him.
Aemon barely moved his arms to hug Rickon but his eyes did not leave the other boy who was too similar to him. The copy of him didn't stop looking at him either, the two of them were studying each other. The only difference is that the stranger had much shorter hair than Aemon and did not have tanned skin like him. But Aemon knew that if he hadn't been sailing in the sun with his grandparents just a few days ago then he would look just like the copy of him.
"Who is he?" Aemon asked breaking the hug, no longer able to stand his curiosity. If he had encountered the copy of him years ago he would have thought that it was some kind of prank by Rickon or that maybe it was an evil clone but now he knew that it didn't make sense. The only logical explanation he could think of was that he had a missing twin but that didn't make sense because his mom would never hide something as big as this from him.
“Aemon do you need glasses? It's obvious that he's a copy of you," said the dark-haired boy, earning an angry look from the other two boys. “Don't do that, it's weird,” he complained.
“I am not Aemon's copy. In any case, he is my copy,” declared the short-haired boy.
“I met Aemon before so you are a copy of him.”
“Wait, why does he know my name?” Aemon interrupted before the other two continued fighting over who the copy was. He needed to know what was going on before he gave him a headache. Although since he saw the stranger he began to feel bad. It was disconcerting to see someone just like himself. He made him feel uncomfortable. Not even Joffrey looked that much like him, and she was his brother.
Aemon wanted to know who this boy was, why he looked so much like him, and why this was the first time he had met him. But at the same time, he was afraid. He could already sense that his life would be different after this camp. He decided to sit on the nearest bed to avoid running out and ask one of the caregivers for his cell phone to call his parents to come back to look for him. Maybe he should have let Mom walk him to the cabin like she wanted.
“Your friend thought I was you, he came up shouting your name when I was with my uncle Daeron. My uncle said that he knew you and that I should stay with Rickon until you showed up. Now I see why he insisted so much."
Aemon was sure he had heard Daeron's name before but he was sure he had never met him. Without realizing it he began to move his leg up and down trying to remember that he knew about Daeron but nothing came to mind.
“I am Baelon Targaryen,” the boy introduced himself, looking at him with concern and Aemon squeezed his leg to prevent himself from moving it further. “I think I'm your twin.”
“No,” the long-haired boy denied instantly.
“Dude, we're literally copies of each other!” Baelon said, frustration evident in his voice, pointing at Aemon and then at himself.
Rickon gave Baelon a look telling him to shut up. In the few hours that he had known him, Baelon had never seen Rickon so serious, so he crossed his arms indignantly and watched silently and attentively as Stark sat next to his twin.
“I know it seems crazy, Aemon, but I really think Baelon is right,” said the dark-haired boy, looking at his friend with concern. Rickon wouldn't know how to react either if he suddenly found out that he had a twin. “The two are copies of each other. Besides, he grew up without knowing his mom and you grew up without knowing your dad. I don't think it's a coincidence. Just like I don't think it's a coincidence that Baelon's uncle knew you."
Aemon looked at his best friend before turning his attention to his possible new brother. “When were you born?”
"June 20th. I guess just like you," said Baelon, and was satisfied when he saw that his twin nodded. "I have a photo of Mom!" He suddenly remembered the photo that he had stolen from Dad a long time ago and that he had hidden in his luggage. “You can see her and confirm that she is our mom,” he said excitedly, thinking that this way Aemon could no longer deny his relationship. He couldn't help but be excited at the thought that he was no longer alone, he had a brother. He had always seen how close his uncle Daeron was to his dad and his other uncles and he remembered wanting to have the same.
Baelon ran to grab his suitcase and began to take out all of his clothes, not caring about the mess, until he found the latest Boku no Hero manga that he was reading and triumphantly pulled out one of the pages the photo of her mother with him in her arms while she kissed his cheek, her eyes were only on him, not caring to look at the camera.
“Look,” he said, handing the photo proudly to Aemon. The photo wasn't complete, it was obvious that someone had cut it in half but Baelon didn't care. That photo was one of his most prized possessions. He looked at her every day before going to sleep because he reminded him that his mom loves him.
“Oh, shit,” Aemon muttered before handing the photo back to him.
“It's her, right?” Baelon asked, watching with anticipation as it was now Aemon who was searching for something in his suitcase. Aemon, unlike him, was not throwing his clothes everywhere. He felt his heart race when he saw how his twin took out a notebook and took something out of it.
“Is this your dad?” Aemon asked, giving him a photo. Baelon nodded several times, unable to say anything out of emotion. His dad wasn't looking at the camera but he wasn't looking at the baby he was holding either. He just looked to the side with a smile.
Baelon took both photos and placed them side by side on the bed. The photo was now complete. Dad was looking at Mom. If Baelon hadn't been so engrossed in looking at the photo then he would have noticed Aemon and Rickon exchanging glances.
“I told you we're twins!” Baelon said with a big smile once he snapped out of the shock of nudging Aemon.
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leasstories · 1 month
Text
Reputation
Eddie Munson x gn!reader
No Trigger Warning
WC: ≈0.7K
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Based on a prompt by @creativepromptsforwriting : “Being touch-starved and needy was really starting to mess with their reputation as a tough guy”
Eddie has always been known to be “mean and scary” at Hawkins High. Well, his reputation, this infamous reputation that protected him is slowly crumbling. All of it started when Eddie started dating you. You are Eddie’s first partner, which means, Eddie is slowly discovering how he is as a boyfriend. What made Eddie’s reputation crumbling is not the fact that he is dating you, it is more how he acts towards you.
Eddie discovered that when it involved romantic relationships, he was touch-starved. Eddie always needs to touch you however he can, even if it’s just holding hands. When he is far from you, he is grumpy. Even in High School, he feels this need to be close to him, and that is exactly what is destroying his mean and scary reputation.
Eddie is currently impatiently waiting for you, he doesn’t even listen to what Gareth is saying, all he can think about is hugging you, having any kind of physical contact. Eddie needs to feel your body warmth.
As soon as you get out of your class, Eddie rushed to you and hug you tight.
“Missed you babe.” He says in your hair.
You chuckle. “Missed you too Eds.”
Once Eddie feels the need to kiss your lips, he stops hugging you and cup your face in his hands before kissing you breathless.
Even if your love language is physical touch and Eddie is always like that with you, you are always a little bit surprised. You never imagined that Eddie would be so touch-starved. You don’t complain though, you love being close to your boyfriend. You don’t find him too needy. You think Eddie’s like this because of his childhood. You’ve learnt that Eddie stopped having physical demonstrations of love when his mom passed away and you think that even though he would never have admitted it, it was something missing in his life. But now, he’s got you, and you’ll give him as much physical touch as he wants.
 Eddie and you head to the cafeteria, Eddie’s arm around your waste, keeping you close to him. Then Eddie sits and motion for you to sit on his lap. You obey. You sit on his lap and Eddie wrap his arms around your tummy, keeping your back pressed to his chest. He keeps kissing you during lunch, he can’t help it.
Before you guys have to part to go to your respective class, Eddie kisses both of your cheeks, your forehead and then your lips. He has a hard time letting you do, which is something you find quiet endearing. You hate having to deny him physical touch, but you really have to go to class.
“I’m sorry Loverboy, I really have to go to class.” You say giggling.
“Don’t want to let you go.” He mumbles into your hair.
“Eds, we will cuddle after class, I promise…” You promise.
He reluctantly let you go. You both go to your afternoon classes. Eddie’s missing you, he misses holding you close to him. Class now, is even worse than before, this is the thing keeping you apart from him.
After class, Eddie rushed in front of your classroom and as soon as you got out, Eddie swept you off your feet. He kisses you, not caring about people watching you. You then walk hand in hand to Eddie’s van. He opens the passenger for you and hold his hand out to help you climb into the van, once you’re sat on the passenger seat he pecks your lips, jogs to his side, sit and as soon as he is on the road, Eddie’s putting his hand on your knee, squeezing gently.
Once you arrived at Eddie’s trailer, you hurried to his bed. You put one of his t-shirts on and he takes off his jackets and pants before cuddling with you for the rest of the afternoon.
Yes Eddie is touch-starved, but we’re not going to lie, you like it. You like the way he holds you like he never wants to let you go, you love that he always kisses you breathless, you love having his hand on your knee every time he is driving. It makes you feel love, and the fact that you are receptive makes Eddie feel loved as well, so why stop having public demonstrations of affection? For others? Hell no!
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too-deviant · 24 days
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idk if you’d be comfortable writing this but I was wondering if you could whip up an Aphrodite!reader who’s fed up with her beauty. She stops attending school and stays the full term at camp which makes Luke confused. So she tells him about how random dudes would hit on her and be creepy at her school or something. She’d prolly join him with Kronos bc she wants to feel respected for once. Would be such an angsty but filled with femme rage although totally cool if you choose not to write this~ Just wanted to share it with someone 💛
Pairing: Luke Castellan x Aphrodite!Reader
Summary: Maybe you didn't want to be beautiful anymore.
Content: pretty angsty, brief mentions of male harassment but nothing explicit or triggering, again sorry for the wait i had w block pls forgive me. also not proofread sorry yall its been a rough week.
You were only faintly aware of the noise around you.
The chatter of the city was a mere buzz in the back of your head as you marched down the street. It amazed you, really, just how unbelievably dickish mortal boys could be. This one in particular; Mike Schwartz, a five foot something jock who sat on the bench at every game. He’d been a bother in your life since you started high school. Back then, you took the endless prospects as a compliment – you truly were your mother’s daughter. It was a boost to your weak teenage confidence. 
But as the years went by, the constant asking for your hand became an irritant. Especially when they couldn’t get the hint – at fourteen, turning down guys felt amazing, but when those same guys kept coming back for more, it made your eye twitch. Couldn’t they take the first no, tuck their tail between their legs and fuck off?
Apparently not. 
After four years of putting up with it, you were done. Storming out of the cafeteria, grabbing all your things, hailing a cab and getting the hell outta dodge. Maybe you should’ve stopped to think — called your dad, taken a few deep breaths. But the harder you thought about it, after trying not to for so many years, you came to the conclusion that you would’ve ended up here anyway. 
Here being the peak of HalfBlood Hill in the middle of September. It was only slightly unusual, because when you usually arrive at the start of summer you get to watch the crowds of arrivals setting up shop at camp. Now, however, it was fairly desolate. Less people, you knew. 
It was also a split second shock when you stepped across the border and felt the drastic change in weather. From the cool breeze of the autumn air to the warm summery spring that camp was in year-round. A shift that made you pause, but you kept on down the hill anyway. 
Chiron was waiting for you on the porch of the Big House, and without so much as a word, gestured for you to follow him inside. He was fairly understanding of your situation, but made you Iris Message your dad and tell him of your decision. He, too, was more glad you were safe than angry you ran off. 
“We can talk about this when you feel like talking.” He’d said. 
So you’d done it. Finally, you’d gotten yourself away from the hey hot stuffs and the you seeing anyone baby?s. You were back at camp, you were where you were most happy. 
But you weren’t happy. 
Being a year-rounder, you’d discovered, was a lot less busy than being a summer camper. You got more days off, longer breaks between activities. You found yourself spending more time in your own company; something you never really got to do before. Most of the time you were with your siblings, or your mortal friends, or you were being hounded by some frat boy and their friends.
It took a minute to get used to the loneliness, but you did. You explored camp, found places you hadn’t seen before. A cute clearing near a stream on the east side of the forest, or a Satyr sanctuary on the far end of the beach. You read more books, you trained a little harder, you perfected six new hairstyles on your little sister Elena and Annabeth from the Athena Cabin. 
And yet, you were still pissed off. 
“Why?” 
Luke Castellan was a name everyone knew in this little corner of Long Island. One of the oldest campers, head counsellor of the rowdiest cabin, token tour guide for the new kids. Oh, and the best swordsman camp had seen in, like, three centuries. He was cute, that much you’d heard all around your cabin. But you’d never really held a solid conversation with him until you became a year-rounder. The fewer people around, the more you run into him. 
You’d been practising a few neat tricks with a dagger when he spotted you. Said he was there to train himself for once and that you wouldn’t even notice he was there. You did, though. Especially when he took his shirt off twenty minutes in. 
You shared a water break, he asked you why you’d transferred to being a year rounder, and you indulge him in the story. He was super nice about it too, which made you angry. Was Luke the only nice guy on the planet? 
“But at least you’re happier now, right?” He’d said. You weren’t, you told him that much. He gave you this knowing look you’d never seen on him before, and asked Why?
You shrugged, “I don’t know. I love it here, I do. But I shouldn’t have to uproot my entire life and bring it here just to get some semblance of peace. I shouldn’t have to give up my education, my friends, my dad, just so I don’t have to get harassed every day. It’s not even like my mom gave me anything to help combat it, either. She just made me beautiful and told me to deal with the consequences! I mean,” You let out a weak chuckle, holding up the dagger you’d been toying with, “This was a birthday present from a friend in Cabin Six. Not even my mother, who is a warrior herself, could bother sending me a weapon. They really don’t give two shits about us, do they?” 
He’d parted his lips, eyes shining with something, and looked at you through his bottom lashes, “No. They don’t.”
You and Luke grew closer after that. A lot closer. By the time summer rolled around and the rest of the campers returned, you were inseparable. Many rumours spread but you two ignored them in favour of sneaking into that clearing you’d found and talking in whispers about your hatred for the gods. Who cared if they could hear you? Let them. 
It was Luke who had come up with the idea to steal the bolt. A quick job, in and out, and maybe then they’d listen to what you’d have to say. But they didn’t — they did exactly what they always did and risked the lives of two young demigods and a satyr just because they couldn’t be bothered doing it themselves. Selfish — that’s what they were. They didn’t care about anyone —
“ — but themselves!” You glared at Thalia, who stood before you atop Mount Tamalpais with her spear in your direction. “I mean, look at your dad. He didn’t care enough to stop the monsters from killing you, oh, but it’s okay because he turned you into a damn tree!”
“This isn’t the way!” Annabeth yelled from afar. Her hair was twisted in a style you’d taught her how to do that first year as a year-rounder. It broke your heart that she couldn’t see how right you and Luke were. 
“Curse them, Thalia.” You said plainly, holding up your dagger. Half mortal metal, half celestial bronze. A gift from Luke. “Curse your father and his children. His brothers. Curse them all like they deserve to be cursed! They deserve to be toppled.”
 You tilted your head, looking at them all. Luke and your army were heading steadily up the mountain. If you could convince them now, there wouldn’t need to be a battle. 
“Where are they now, huh?” You raised both your arms, “You’re fighting for your life against a titan on a mountain and the only god who came to help out was Artemis? And that’s just because she was here already.” You scoffed out a laugh, “You should thank us, really, for taking her. Had we not, you’d be dead already.” 
Annabeth watched. You were unrecognisable in that moment — your face streaked with dirt and blood, curled into a dark sneer that any of your siblings would berate you for because of the wrinkles you’d get. You didn’t seem to care all that much, though. Not when Thalia was lunging for you and attempting to pull you out of the rage you were in. Not when her spear and shield were no match for your measly dagger and you went toppling down the mountain. 
The next time any of them saw you was in Manhattan — after believing you to be dead for a year and a half, it came as a shock when you emerged from the crowd of monsters. Your hair was hacked short, and one of your legs had been replaced with a bronze prosthetic. You fought with a ruthlessness none of them had seen in you before, whether it be because you were on the losing side or because Luke had given his body to the Lord of Time before you had the chance to tell him you loved him. You were still angry, and even if you hated Kronos, you didn’t hate him nearly as much as you hated the gods. 
When Luke died, you were kneeled beside him. Your face was dirty, your hair was knotty, and there was a dent in your bronze leg. He lifted a hand to your face, “I’m sorry to have to say this, but…you’re sorta beautiful.”
“Sorta?”
He grinned, and then he died, and you were filled with such unbridled rage that you pushed yourself down to the ground of Manhattan and tore through Kronos’ army with fire in your eyes, not stopping until Apollo got rid of your sight and forced you to calm down. You didn’t know if you’d ever be calm, since the only person who ever understood you just died in your arms, but you dropped your dagger and stomped your way back up to Olympus like a bratty child anyway. 
Zeus didn’t punish you for what you did, but he did say he’d be keeping a firm eye on you. You joined the hunters, much to your mothers disdain, and didn’t ever allow yourself to look back.
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