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#can’t believe it passed this fast
hellavile · 3 months
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i’m watching fast x since i avoided it after seeing the terribly made last film in theaters anddd . . you can tell that they’re trying too hard to be a marvel film. :/
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rose-nobles · 10 months
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💬
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existxntixl · 1 year
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Me: God I miss him I just want him back…
The Him in question:
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olivepress · 5 months
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I finally finished my 7 day work week and I’m starting my weekend w sleeping in in my warm bed, I walked my dog and made a breakfast burrito for lunch which was probably way to much food but now I can just watch shows and be in a food coma. Tomorrow I’m getting a haircut and I’m going to put on a cute outfit and visit the shops. That’s my plan for my little two day weekend. Hopefully disconnect as much as possible from work.
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toruslvt · 5 days
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ur writings are so amazing im inlove w them!! can i request a brother’s bestfriend geto x fem reader? also if it’s okay with u, could u write a lil smut🫣🫣
° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . BROTHER’S BEST FRIEND
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⋆ mdni. slightly pervy suguru + shy reader, cunilingus, fingering, pussy job, Suguru has a lip piercing, i coulndt help it. you're Satoru's sister or stepsister because mhm I needed a name...
 ⋆ thank you sooo much for the compliment, love 💕 also sorry this took so long :(
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it really isn’t fair.
Satoru really shouldn’t be so cruel and deny the sweet taste of you to his best friend, although of course, Suguru has never made a comment or move to show his real intentions, opting instead to silently stare as you make your ways though your kitchen in those cute shorts of yours.
“don’t look at her, you pervert” Satoru huffs, leaving a slight slap on the back of Suguru’s head, to which the dark haired man replies with an amused chuckle, playing with his bottom lip, feigning ignorance.
“tsk, i wasn’t looking at your sister”
it’s a lie of course, quietly thanking his fashion taste for choosing a pair of baggy pants to cover the growing bulge between his legs, most likely wetting the fabric of his boxers with sticky, translucent precum.
two sets of controllers were held by both men’s hands, often yelling profanities to a tv screen until the sun hid and the moon shone bright, what a pity, really, it looks like Suguru will have to stay the night.
“here’s some blankets” at least this time Satoru is kind enough to toss a heavy blanket onto his best friend’s lap followed by a yawn, much different from the previous times where he left the black haired to his own. and it’s not until Satoru’s side of the couch remains uncomfortably still, that he realizes the blue eyed is —in fact, fast asleep, snoring with his head hanging from the couch backrest.
it’s funny, really, that until Suguru finds himself staring at the ceiling, uncomfortably laying on the other man’s bed, no one was using it either way; but who the fuck falls asleep at 11 pm, on a saturday night.
quiet steps make their way outside the room, greeted by the dark hallway in his way to the bathroom, although, —and almost heavenly, Suguru catches a glimpse of your bedroom at the other side of the hall, door ajar and letting out a little bit of what it seemed like lamp lighting onto the carpeted floor outside.
it’s almost inviting.
his feet instantly turn from his way towards the bathroom, drawn to you like a moth to the flame, “hey” Suguru barely whispers, knocking on the wood before pushing it open enough for his body to pass, “can’t sleep?”
a soft rustle of your bedsheets is what greets him, followed by a surprised look on your eyes and the soft thud of earphones falling next to your body, solely covered by a shirt and those shorts that drive Suguru insane, “it’s a bit too early to sleep” you reply back, a soft chuckle following.
the sound is like a melody to his ears, followed by his own and a gentle hum, “your brother is knocked out” as if invited, the black haired takes a few small steps until he sits at the edge of the plush mattress, palms itching at the attempt of not giving in and wrapping his fingers around your pretty ankle.
with a half lidded gaze he turns towards your phone, held by one of your hands as you curled on your side to look at him with those bright, gorgeous eyes of yours, the screen is flicking, an incoming notification, “texting your boyfriend?”
“don’t have a boyfriend” you retort with a slight chuckle.
and Suguru’s eyes widened for what seems like a millisecond, “i don’t believe you” he teases, shaking his head while subtly, and barely noticeably slides closer to you, the loose black sweatshirt he wore suddenly getting hotter, “a pretty girl like you... without a boyfriend?” his tongue clicks, “something’s wrong with those boys”
the subtle shift of your feet against the mattress doesn’t go unnoticed by Suguru, who tentatively press a thumb on the border between your skin and the socks you wore, “it’s not that...” you murmur, and he notices how you’re embarrassed, he’ve known you for quite some time to realize those kind of small details, “just haven’t found the one”
Suguru hums, licking his bottom lip and mindlessly tracing the cold metal of his piercing for a bit longer, his head turns to look at you, “boys your age are so immature” his voice is low, and honestly what a thing to say considering he’s merely four years older than you, “barely getting into adulthood, don’t know how to treat girls like you” a smile spreads through his face as his thumb rubs on your ankle and your throat bobs slightly as you swallow. are you as turned on as he is?, “i bet they can’t satisfy you either, can they?”
upon hearing his words your eyes widen, face burning and yet don’t tear your leg from his lingering touch, intoxicated by the look on his eyes and slowl, purring words, “Suguru... what—”
“it’s just a question, doll” he chuckles, brushing it off with a shrug, a few hair strands falling on his eyes at the tilt of his head, “no need to answer that, i’m certain no one has made you feel as good as you deserve” it’s a test, to check on your reaction to his not so subtle advances.
but you show no sign of discomfort, instead, your gaze turns towards the dresser and mirror on your side, nervously chewing on your bottom lip in a motion you often do while embarrassed, why are you so fucking cute?
just a step closer, “i can, though...” his voice drops even more, sliding his thumb and fingers across your calf and towards the bend of your knee, “make you feel good”
“Suguru...” you breathe, shifting your gaze towards his.
“no one has to know, just you and me”
“Suguru,” you try again, catching his attention that was locked on your almost bare thighs, with a gulp you whisper, ”lock the door”
and that's all he needs, heart skipping a beat and cock twitching in his boxers at the same time he reaches for the door, locking it before climbing over your body this time, hungrily roaming his darkened eyes through your body, “so fucking pretty” he huffs, sliding his fingers under your neck and using a thumb to part your lips, pressing under your bottom lip to finally, finally claim the lips he has been dreaming off, locked on his or wrapped around his cock.
you whine and he’s melting, a soft grunt escaping Suguru’s lips as his tongue slides across yours, fucking your mouth and sucking your tongue lewdly enough to leave you gasping.
you come to realize Suguru is not talkative in bed either, opting to use his hands to roam across your body, and lips to bring out more sounds from your mouth, “do you trust me?”
and you nod, so cutely he needs to bite down slightly on your puffy bottom lip, hair a mess solely from kissing, he wonders how stunning you’ll look while getting fucked.
“good girl” is a purr, followed by Suguru’s lips detaching from yours and finding your neck, gently nibbling and kissing the skin, all the way down to the valley of your clothed chest and belly where your shirt rise; his kisses continue across the band of your shorts before he’s pulling them down slightly, whistling low at the sight of your now drenched panties.
teasingly he nuzzles on your clothed clit, making you whimper and squeeze his head with your thighs, which only makes Suguru chuckle and cock jerk more precum into his underwear.
“i’ll eat your pussy, alright? tell me if it’s too much” what a gentleman he is.
then his eyes are on you, noticing the rise and fall of your chest and glossy gaze, first rubbing your slit through your panties, groaning low at the feeling of your wetness seeping through the fabric, showing the outline of your drenched folds, “Sugu...” you mewl with toes gently curling on the sheets.
a bit more of friction and he could have cum in the spot at how sweetly you say his name.
“i’m here, honey, i’ll make your pretty pussy feel so good” he promises, and like a man truth to his words, his finger slides under the crotch of your panties and slides them aside, another deep rumble comes out at the sight of your pulsing cunt, drooling slick enticingly.
Suguru waits no time at licking your folds, sliding his tongue across the tender and hot skin before swirling your clit, each stroke and slurp a bit harder than the previous, indulging into your taste while at the same time keeping you on the edge due to his slow and measured movements.
you whimper his name again, tentatively sliding your fingers across his soft and long hair, normally held in a bun but now it’s framing his face so beautifully you’re left breathless. your words and the gentle tug on his hair is what he needs to use both thumbs to spread your folds, using one hand to keep your panties aside before plunging the wet muscle inside your sobbing walls, gently massaging your insides with growing intensity.
Suguru can’t help and groan against your pussy lips, lust driven and slightly humping his hips down against the mattress at the same time he fucks you with his tongue, lapping and slurping the delicious nectar coming from between your legs.
soon a finger joins his tongue, and merely minutes later two are pumping inside and out of you, although Suguru was hesitant to depart from your sensitive cunt, he found the movement of his fingers and lips wrapped around your clit was much better to make you scream, and how much he wished you were at his place instead, because he would have never allowed you to cover your mouth with your hands, muffling your sounds for your family not to hear.
“S-suguru, i’m close!” you barely get to squeal through your fingers, a futile attempt to curl over his body and detach his lips from your cunt, one that quickly get replaced by the arch of your back against the mattress at Suguru’s lips sucking harder and fingers curling just precisely to caress the spot that made your thighs twitch.
barely pulling back he groans, “come, beautiful” then his lips are on you again, keeping his pace to bring you to the edge until you’re drenching his lower face.
you cum so hard your vision goes black, breathlessly moaning a bit louder than allowed, hopefully your brother was still asleep, yet through the orgamic daze you manage to catch a glimpse of Suguru’s smirk and messy hair, wiping your slick on his lower abdomen before releasing his cock from underneath his clothes, hard and flushed, dribbling breads of precum.
fucking you it’s too risky, and the idea of leaving you to fetch a condom from Satoru’s room is not even a possibility, especially with the way you look like you’re about to pass out, but it’s fine, Suguru is patient.
he kneels between your legs, gently cooing at your questioning whine, and sliding your panties barely aside, then guiding his tip to your slit, snuggled between your dripping folds as he starts to thrust, cockhead smacking wetly against your clit and up to the front of your panties where a creamy patch grows, “fuck” he huffs, gripping on your thigh to spread you open and increase his thrusts, fucking himself with your pussy lips, “sorry, princess, I can’t hold it” he attempts to joke, but his gaze is focused on your cunt, while yours is on his ethereal Suguru looks, flushed and biting on his bottom lip to muffle his moans.
it doesn’t take him much to cum with a shudder, embarrassingly quick but that’s just the effect you have on him, completely staining your underwear with cum that drips down your slit and Suguru is about to groan, fighting back the urge to coat his tip with the sticky mixture and guide it inside your needy pussy, but alas, he’ll bring protection next time.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months
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new follower
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words: 1.4k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, male receiving oral, p in v sex, unprotected sex
rafe doesn’t follow many people on social media. topper, kelce, a few of his other country club friends, and you. 
the notification shocked you when you woke up one morning and saw that rafe cameron followed you back. you knew him decent enough, mostly through being friends of friends, with rafe being a year ahead of you when you were in school.
you assumed it was a mistake, he was scrolling his recent notifications maybe and accidentally clicked your follow button. you waited for him to realize and unfollow you, but it never happened, not even after a week passed.
“did you see?” you answer your friends call. rafe not only didn’t unfollow you, but he just liked and commented on your picture.
“holy shit. holy shit. holy shit.” stephanies excited voice rings out from the other side of the line, obviously having seen the recent development. “girl, he wants you.” “coming to the party this friday?” you say the message out loud, having already memorized it. you haven’t responded yet, not wanting to seem too crazy by immediately screaming yes. “i mean what else could that mean?” 
“girl, you are getting dicked DOWN at that party.”
--
you tug at rafes zipper, having already undone the button. you know you're moving too fast, should slow down and savor the moment as you sink to your knees.
“mmm, baby, you don't have to.” rafe reaches his hand down to pull you back up, but you already tugged at his pants, lowering them to his thighs so just his underwear is left covering his dick, obviously already hard and straining against the fabric.
“i want to.” you clarify, leaning in and kissing along his length until you reach the head of his cock, suckling at it through the material, wetting it with your mouth.
rafe is just as big as you thought he would be, you can tell just from wrapping your lips around him, making you even more excited to get him inside of you.
“fuck.” rafe groans. “quit teasing me, pretty.”
you smile at rafes compliment, pulling his underwear down, his cock pushing free, standing upright against his body. rafe groans as the cold bathroom air hits his cock, pressing his back even harder into the wall.
you waste no time, wrapping your lips around the head of his cock, pausing for a moment to enjoy the taste before you begin to bob your head, unable to take him all the down, but getting pretty damn close before your gag reflex forces you to pull off.
“god, you're just as good as i imagined you'd be.” rafe moans, hands gripping your hair.
“you imagined this?” you ask, pulling away to blink up at rafe through your lashes.
“yeah.” rafe smirks. he's got no shame about being attracted to you. it's rare for a girl to truly capture his attention, especially for any period of time longer than a one night stand.
“oh.” you blush, wanting to know more details as you grasp his cock, stroking it to still give him some stimulation. “before or after you followed me?”
“after. can't believe i never noticed you in high school. your photo popped up in my discover and… god, you're just so pretty.”
“did you touch yourself to me?” you ask, the words tumbling from your mouth before you can stop them.
“you would like it if i did, wouldn’t you dirty girl?” rafe smirks, not giving you a chance to confirm that you really would like it as he pushes your head back down. you allow rafe to control your movements, keeping your mouth open as his cock pushes down your throat.
you swallow around his length, excited to tell all your friends about sucking rafe off in the bathroom at the party, especially stephanie, who you know can’t be far.
“god, i need your cunt. come on.” rafe tugs at your hair.
“yeah, yeah.” you nod, giving one last kiss to the tip of rafes cock before standing.
“turn around.” rafe moves you towards the sink, having you face the mirror. he smirks when you realize you’re watching him in the reflection as he pushes your dress up until your underwear is revealed, having chosen a cute thong specifically for rafe to see.
“jesus, you’re gonna kill me.” rafe groans, hands gripping your ass, feeling your plump flesh in his hands.
“yeah?” you smirk, leaning forward and placing your hands on the marble counter to shake your bum slightly from side to side. 
“too hot, i swear.” he groans, about to pull your underwear to the side when theres a knock on the bathroom door, making you both jump, forgetting that there was still an entire party going on.
“fucking occupied!” rafe shouts. “fuck off!”
you laugh at rafes yelling, listening to whoever knocked walk away, footsteps moving down the hallway.
“jesus.” he groans. “i should take you home before we fuck.” “what, not gentlemanly to take me for the first time in a bathroom?” you laugh.
“you’re not funny. i’m serious.” rafe pouts. “i like you, let me take you back to tanneyhill.” you turn around, pushing yourself up to sit on the counter. you lean forward, pressing your lips against rafes. its flattering that he wants to take you someplace more private, but you’re honestly not sure you can wait.
you reach between your bodies with both hands, moving your thong to the side while guiding rafes cock towards you entrance. you move the head of his cock through your folds, letting out a moan against his lips when you push it against your clit.
“alright, alright, shit.” rafe moans, “i’ll fuck you now.”
“good.” you smirk. “you can fuck me at tanneyhill later too.”
“oh yeah?” rafe laughs, pushing your hands away to take control, placing his hands on your hips as he sinks his cock into your entrance, moving slowly to let you adjust. “just can’t get enough of this cock, huh?” you let out a moan, gripping rafes shoulders as he stays seated inside you, pushing on your walls the perfect amount. 
“move. move, its okay.” you mumble. 
“god, i need a second too pretty girl.” rafe takes a deep breath, trying to control himself from absolutely ravaging you and cumming far too early. 
you laugh, cupping rafes jaw with your hands, tugging him close for a kiss. it gives him a moment to settle before he starts to move, cock pushing in and out of your cunt, a wet squelching sound filling the bathroom with every movement.
rafe has one hand gripping your hip while the other slides to your back, keeping you from leaning backwards against the mirror, chest pressed against his.
“let me see your tits, baby.” rafe asks, looking down the top of your dress at your cleavage. you nod, tugging at the front of your dress, pulling it down so your chest is revealed, having forgone a bra. rafe smirks as he looks down, breasts bouncing every time he thrusts into you.
“so hot.” he groans, managing to duck his head to kiss over the swell of your breast while keeping his cock pushing into you. “touch yourself for me.”
rafe picks his head up to press a kiss to your lips before leaning back, looking between your bodies while you start with your tits, cupping one and jiggling it to show off to rafe before playing with your own nipples, switching to the other side.
“your cunt, come on. let me see how you touch yourself.” rafe knows he can't last much longer, needing you to get yourself off since his hands are occupied keeping you in place on the counter.
you sink your hand lower, ruffling over the scrunched up dress until you reach your pussy, sinking lower to gather some of your wetness from where rafe is pumping into you. you glide back up to your clit, rubbing it with two fingers in the way you do when you get yourself off.
“oh, fuck.” rafe groans as you clench around his length. “you're trying to kill me baby.”
“cum inside me.” you whimper. “please.”
“yeah.” rafe nods. “cant last.” you can tell from the way rafes cock swells inside of you that he's close.
“come on.” you begin to grind your hips up and down. “give it to me.”
rafe let's out a strangled moan, half sounding like your name, half sounding like a curse as he cums, pushing his cock as deep inside of you as possible, triggering your own orgasm as you let out a squeal, back arching into him as your fingers slow on your clit.
“fuck, that was good.” you pant, body flopping forward to lean your forehead against rafes shoulder.
“fuck yeah it was.” rafe laughs, carefully pulling his softening cock out of you. he takes your chin in his hand, picking your head up to press a kiss to your lips. “now when can we do that again?”
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2K notes · View notes
leclercsainzz · 3 months
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BEGGING for a charles leclerc x reader smau based on “some one like you” please 🙏🏼 where he’s married to someone else after reader and him broke up .. you can make it however you want:)
WISTFUL YEARNING
PARINGS: charles leclerc x ex gf!reader
TYPE: social media au
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charles_leclerc
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liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 720,038 others
charles_leclerc: dreams do come true, i love you, my love 💘
view 6,736 comments
user: OMG OMG
user: “dreams do come true�� 😭
user: he’s officially married, guys
carlossainz55: congratulations, mate 🍾
user: YN LIKED OMG 😭😭
pierregasly: congrats, bro! wishing you the best ❤️
user: congratulations 🥰
user: *liked by yourusername* 😢
↳ user: my heart SHATTERED, OMGGGG 💔
user: i just want to know how yn feels
user: can ya’ll move on from charles and yn?!?
user: CONGRATS, CHARLES!! ❤️
user: yn 😭😭
joris__trouche: ❤️❤️❤️
user: he finally got what he wanted, omg 🥺
user: congratulations 🥳
user: i was doing fine until i saw that yn liked this post
user: im happy for him!!
landonorris: congrats, mate
user: HE’S OFFICIALLY MARRIED YA’LL 😩😩
user: idk why i was waiting to see a comment by yn
sebastianvettel: wishing you a lifetime of love and happiness
↳ charles_leclerc: thank you, sebs! 😊
lance_stroll: congratulations!
user: can’t believe so much time has passed since yn:(
user: i know all the drivers were invited but i NEED pictures
user: guess i won’t be mrs leclerc anytime soon 😩
danielricciardo: wishing you both lots of love ❤️
lewishamilton: congratulations
user: i wonder how yn must be feeling 🥺🥺
user: was hoping him and yn would get their happily ever after
user: i wonder if he calls his wife “mon cœur” or “mon ange”
↳ user: i doubt he calls his wife that considering those belong to yn but who knows
↳ user: maybe “my heart” but not “my angel” or idk
↳ user: ya’ll think she calls him “charlie” ?? the way yn did??
user: guess yn is never getting him back 😭
user: congratulations, charles! sending lots of love 💗
imessage
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yourusername
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liked by francisca.cgomes, lorenzotl and 610,840 others
yourusername: — la vie est belle <3
see translation: life is beautiful
view 4,810 comments
user: SHE’s HangING WITH KIKA 💗
user: babes, did you get the apartment you always wanted?!?
↳ user: wait— the one her and charles always wanted right?!?
↳ user: with the view, yes! it seems like it in the third post
pierregasly: hey! that’s MY girlfriend
↳ yourusername: OUR* get it right 🙄
francisca.cgomes: tú es belle 😘
see translation: you’re beautiful
user: “life is beautiful” LIES ik deep down you missing charles
user: i miss you and charles 😭😭😭😭
user: i really thought you charles would’ve been endgame 😭
user: charles is married but not to yn 😭😭😭
danielricciardo: oui
see translation: yes
leclerc_pascale: belle comme toujours 😍
see translation: beautiful as always
↳ yourusername: ❤️❤️❤️
↳ user: mama leclerc 😭
user: how do you feel about charles’ marriage??
user: crazy to think how charles is married while yn’s not
user: i really thought you and charles would’ve been endgame
user: charles’ got a whole wife, bro 😔😔 and it ain’t you
user: charles got his dream but yn???? 😭😭😭😭
user: she got her apartment with the eiffel tower view
↳ user: but without charles 😢😢
user: times flies fast … it feels like her and charles were still together:((
user: wonder if she congratulated charles
↳ user: she definitely didn’t 🤣 why would she??
user: charles was suppose to be her love forever 😭😭
↳ user: well as they say, “sometimes it last in love, but sometimes it hurts instead”
user: her and charles were supposed to live in france together
user: ya’ll seriously need to move on from those two, he’s a married man ….
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charles_leclerc
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liked by sebastianvettel, arthur_leclerc and 772,046 others
charles_leclerc: surprise!
view 5,940 comments
user: i just know yn feeling SICK right now
user: he got married, he’s gonna become a dad, now he just needs that ferrari championship (FERRARI GIVE IT TO HIM)
carlossainz55: you’re both going to make amazing parents! congratulations on your new baby!!! ❤️
↳ charles_leclerc: thank you, carlos!
user: he’S GONNA BE A DAD 😭😭😭
user: we’re getting a mini leclerc 🥺
lewishamilton: congratulations 😊
↳ charles_leclerc: thanks, mate!
user: he’s achieving his dreams
↳ user: without yn 😭😭😭
user: ya’ll gotta stop with the whole charles/yn relationship, they BROKE UP! i don’t think his wife appreciates you all bringing yn up every chance you get
user: can’t wait!!!!!
sebastianvettel: congratulations on your new adventure
↳ charles_leclerc: 😊😊
leclerc_pascale: ❤️❤️❤️
user: we’re all happy for you, charles 😌💗
alex_albon: congrats!! 🥳
↳ charles_leclerc: thanks, alex
user: i’d be crawling back into his life, if i were yn
lorenzotl: ❤️
user: he’s getting his mini leclerc 🥺🥺
maxverstappen1: favorite uncle max is gonna spoil her/him
↳ charles_leclerc: favorite uncle?!!?? absolutely not
joris__trouche: at your service 🫡
arthur_leclerc: ❤️❤️
user: he finally accomplished his dreams
user: this could’ve been yn’s life 😩😩
yourusername: congratulations, charlie!
↳ user: MOM, OMG 😭😭
↳ user: ik she’s lowkey crying about this
↳ user: “charlie”
↳ user: i want them back together, idc 😭😭😭😭
pierregasly: congrats ❤️
user: he’s living his dreams
user: yn 💔💔💔💔
user: mom’s comment 😢
user: i’d be feeling sick to my stomach, if i were yn
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imessage
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yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 649,083 others
yourusername: bonjour
see translation: hello
tagged: @yourbrother
view 4,081 comments
user: when she listens to lana del rey >>>
user: LA LA LAND, OMG 😭😭😭 PAIN
pierregasly: yourbrother & toby >>> you
user: charles liked!!! OMG
user: she’s watching la la land!
user: i didn’t realize the 5th slide was @yourbrother
leclerc_pascale: ma belle fille 😘
see translation: my beautiful girl
↳ yourusername: je t’aime ❤️
↳ user: “my beautiful girl” i cant 😭😭😭
↳ user: pascale LOVES yn so much even after all these years
francisca.cgomes: 😍😍😍😍 my wife
lorenzotl: avez-vous oublié monaco? 😔
see translation: did you forget monaco?
↳ yourusername: jasmais ça
see translation: never that
↳ arthur_leclerc: 👍🏼
user: the way charles family still interacts with hers 😭😭
↳ user: i miss them 😔
user: third slide is lowkey for charles
↳ user: girl, MOVE ON! he’s married, get over them
user: ARE WE JUST GONNA IGNORE THAT CHARLES LIKED
user: i miss yncharles 💔💔💔💔
kellypiquet: 😍😍
danielricciardo: bonjour
yourbrother: mon chein est meilleur que toi
see translation: my dog is better than you
↳ yourusername: toby m’aime mieux que toi
see translation: toby likes me better than you
charles_leclerc: toby est tellement grand 🥺 @yourbrother
see translation: toby is so grown
user: missing mom and dad 😭😭
user: i know charles is married but i can’t help myself thinking about him and yn all the times:(
user: he commented
user: she’s the one that got away 😔
↳ user: what should’ve, could’ve, and would’ve been
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loveinhawkins · 1 year
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For a few weeks, Claudia thinks that she’s collecting her son from the hospital after he’s visited Max Mayfield.
Then she finds out that’s only partly the truth.
Usually Dustin’s already waiting in the parking lot for her, Steve by his side. They chat, Steve insisting that he could drive Dustin home, it’s no trouble, and Claudia thanks him for the offer, kindly refuses; the poor boy looks run ragged these days.
One day neither of them are there, so she heads inside. There’s still a long line at reception, the aftermath of the earthquake, so she finds a nurse in a corridor, describes Dustin—my boy, about this high, curly hair (smiles like the sun, she wants to add)—and the nurse smiles, says, “Follow me, ma’am.”
She has a passing thought that this isn’t the direction to Max’s room, but reasons that she must’ve been moved. The nurse leaves her at the door before being called away.
Claudia opens the door quietly.
It’s not Max who’s in the bed.
She recognises him from the posters—his eyes first, then his long hair. He’s holding a battered copy of The Hobbit, the spine broken, and he’s reading so softly that she can’t quite make out the words.
And there, lying so peacefully against Eddie Munson’s shoulder, is Dustin. He’s fast asleep.
Eddie’s got an arm around him, and he’s slowly running his fingers through Dustin’s hair the way she used to when he was little, to help him drift off.
He looks up from his book at the sound of her entering the room, and his face goes as white as the bedsheets.
She takes one step forward.
Eddie inhales, breath stuttering, and it’s a fragile, heartbreaking sound.
Dustin stirs. “Hmm? Wha’s wrong?” He lifts his head up from Eddie’s shoulder, and his eyes meet Claudia’s, and he’s suddenly wide awake, scrabbling upright. “Mom.”
Eddie’s mouth keeps moving, like he’s desperately searching for words. “I-I’m not—” His breathing catches again, eyes wide; Claudia realises, with a heavy heart, that he’s deeply afraid of her. “It’s just a stupid board game, I swear.”
“Mom,” Dustin says again. Pleading.
And of course, Claudia never once believed the frenzied cries about Satanic rituals. Still, throughout that awful Spring Break, knowing that her son was lying to her, all she could think was that she was once a teenager, too—remembered how easy it could be to get caught up in something scary, something beyond your control.
She looks into Eddie Munson’s eyes, and knows deep in her bones that she has nothing to fear from him.
She beckons Dustin over, hands him the car keys.
“There’s a pillow on your seat, hon,” she says softly, because there’s a sleepy haze returning to his eyes despite his obvious concern for Eddie.
Dustin blinks, so unsure.
She smiles reassuringly. It’s okay. I promise.
“Okay,” Dustin says slowly, and he looks back at Eddie, raising his eyebrows like he wants to convince him of something. “See you tomorrow, Eddie.”
Eddie nods, but doesn’t speak.
He lifts his hand in a weak wave as Dustin leaves. It’s shaking. Claudia sits down by the bed. Puts her hand in his.
Eddie stares at her.
“I’m so sorry,” she says. “I’m so sorry for what we did to you.”
Eddie shakes his head, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You didn’t—” He clears his throat. “It wasn’t you.”
Claudia shakes her head, too, slowly—prays that he can really hear this. “No, no, please. Listen to me. I’m so sorry.”
It would be an easy thing to say, that the town of Hawkins wronged Eddie Munson. But that would make it sound so impersonal: like it was inevitable, just one of these tragic things that happened, nothing to be done about it. Like earthquakes.
But that wasn’t true. People were behind this, and Claudia knows that they are all the town, every single one of them. And what did it say about them, that the fear and mistrust and cruelty spread like wildfire? That not one adult in the town hall stood up, begged people to stop, to think again?
“Th-thank you,” Eddie says. It sounds so uncertain, almost like a question.
Claudia squeezes his hand. “You were with Dustin, weren’t you?” she asks. “When the earthquake…”
His hand is shaking again.
“Yes,” he whispers. “I-I’m sorry, I—” He swallows. “I didn’t want a-anything to happen to him.”
“Oh, honey.” She reaches out cautiously, and when he doesn’t freeze up, she cups his cheek; her heart breaks at the rough indent of a scar beneath her palm. “You’re not God.”
Eddie reaches up, pressing her hand further against his cheek. He’s crying.
Claudia wipes his tears away as much as she can. She keeps up a steady murmur: “Shh, shh. I know you kept him as safe as you could. I know, I know. Shh.”
When he starts to calm, she thanks him again, but for something lighter.
“Dusty… he was so nervous, starting high school. But his first day, when I picked him up, all he could talk about was getting invited to have lunch with… well, a club.” Claudia smiles. “Oh, he was talking a mile a minute, I could hardly keep up. But I… oh, Eddie, I understand now. That was you.”
Eddie grins back. His cheeks are still wet.
“I didn’t do much,” he says. “You’ve…” For a moment, his eyes fill up again, but they look like happy tears. “You’ve got some kid, Mrs Henderson. He’s—he’s a real gem.”
She laughs. “Oh, I know.”
It’s one of the many things she loves about Dustin: that he’s always been so unashamedly, so joyously himself.
And Eddie had clearly seen that in him, had taken him in and nurtured everything that made him so.
The door abruptly slams open.
Steve’s in the doorway; he must’ve been running, is still gasping for breath as he says, panicked, “Claudia, I can—”
“Steve,” Eddie says softly, and that’s all.
But it’s clearly enough, because Steve’s shoulders drop in relief, and then he’s shutting the door, coming to Eddie’s bedside like he belongs there, and Eddie’s smiling at him, so tenderly…
And oh, she was young, once. She knows what she’s looking at.
Of course, she doesn’t mention it, can still sense some residual anxiety radiating from them.
Instead she looks around the room, spots a pile of laundry in the corner. It’s been stuffed into a bag; she recognises that as belonging to Steve, but there’s some shirts in there that are definitely Eddie’s, entwined with Steve’s things.
She stands, but before she can even pick up the bag, it seems like Steve’s read her mind, because he’s stepping forward, stopping her with a touch to her forearm.
“Oh, you don’t have to—I’m taking care of it, Claudia.”
She pats his cheek, lingers there until he smiles. “I know, sweetheart. But… would you let me? It’s the least I can do.”
Eddie reaches up from the bed, squeezes Steve’s elbow. Steve sighs, briefly leaning into him.
“Okay,” he says. “That’s… thank you.”
“As long as you do one thing for me.”
“Of course,” Steve says immediately. “Anything.”
Claudia brings out a notepad and pen from her bag. “Write me a list? Anything you’d like, I’ll be shopping anyway.” She looks Steve in the eyes, adds firmly but with a smile, “It’s no trouble.”
Steve takes the notepad, twirls the pen hesitantly.
“Anything you’d like,” Claudia repeats. She glances at Eddie, says, “You know, if you want a different shampoo than what they have here, things like that, or—”
“Oh, uh, it’s okay,” Eddie says quickly. “Whatever’s on sale is—”
“I know, honey,” Claudia says patiently, “but what would you actually like?”
The last extended hospital stay she’d had was fifteen years ago; Dustin had been a preemie, and one of the few things that kept her calm was the familiar: scents, food, people…
Steve chuckles. “I’ve got it.” He writes on the notepad, and Eddie must be able to read it, because he suddenly turns a little pink.
“How did you know that?”
Steve shrugs, smiles. “I notice things.” He writes down just a couple more things, then hands the list back. “Thank you so much, Claudia.”
“Any time, sweetie, I mean it.” She hugs Steve goodbye, then reaches one last time for Eddie’s hand on the bedspread. “It was lovely to meet you, Eddie. Hope you can go home soon.”
“Yeah, me—me too. Thank you, Mrs Hend—” Steve squeezes Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie stops. Smiles. “Thank you, Claudia.”
She looks back once to shut the door behind her. Steve’s pulling up a chair, as close as he can get, and as the door closes, she hears him tut softly, gently swiping at the remaining trail of tears on Eddie’s face: “Hey, what—?”
They look like they belong together. Dustin’s boys.
Dustin’s asleep in the car, pillow pressed against the window. Claudia puts the bag of laundry in the trunk before quietly slipping into her seat.
Dustin wakes anyway as they drive out of the parking lot. “Eddie… okay?”
“He is, honey. Steve’s with him.”
“Mm… good.” There’s a pause, and Claudia thinks he’s fallen asleep again, but then he says, tentative, “Mom?”
“Yes, Dusty?”
“If I tell you something… d’you promise to keep it private?”
“As long as it’s not hurting anyone.”
“It’s not,” Dustin says firmly. “Um. Steve and Eddie, I think… I think they’re…”
Claudia smiles, nods encouragingly. “Oh, that’s lovely.”
Dustin hums in agreement. “They’ve not told me. Did I… do something wrong?”
“No, baby. You just keep doing what you’re doing.” Claudia feels a lump in her throat. “You’re a good friend.”
Dustin makes an uncertain noise.
“You are, baby. They love you very much, you know that, right?”
“Yeah.” Dustin sighs. “I know.” His eyes are closing.
“Sorry, baby, just before you sleep—are there any candies Steve and Eddie like?”
Dustin nods. “Eddie likes anything sweet. An’ Steve…” He yawns. “Anything w’peanut butter.”
“Great. Thank you, honey.”
Dustin’s already asleep.
Claudia knows that even with what she’s learned today, she still only has half a story, if that. That there’s something more to Dustin’s exhaustion, to just how Eddie ended up in a hospital bed.
Today, she’ll do all she can. It’s not a lot, but it’s something. Laundry and shopping, reading the brand of shampoo Steve wrote with a careful eye. She’ll fill her cart up with treats, things that won’t solve anything; they might make staying in that hospital room just a little easier, though. Make it feel a little warmer, a little more like home.
But first, she’ll take her boy home; she’ll park the car as close to the front door as she can get, and when he doesn’t stir, she’ll run a hand through his hair, gently put him to bed.
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bluejeanstrash · 11 days
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tags: boyfriend! seungcheol x reader, just a little light-hearted fluff of seungcheol being a dramatic whiny baby when he’s sick, mentions of dry scalp and skin picking lol, seungcheol is very whiny | wc: 742
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
a classic cough and cold combo paired with a side of fever-related aches and pains — that was the diagnosis, not the life-threatening illness seungcheol was sure he’d contracted. he’d tried convincing you it was fast-spreading. like really fast. like it has taken over his body and has been shutting down his organs one by one for the past 6 hours fast.
‘i’m going to die. it’s not a joke anymore. i seriously feel like i’m going to die’ he tugs at the hem of your t-shirt as you clear up the mountain of tissues on the left bedside table, and then tugs again while you’re clearing up a pile of dishes on the right.
you sigh, ignoring him, and disappear into the kitchen to reappear with a fresh bowl of hot chicken soup ‘seungcheol, we’ve been over this already. you’re not going to die’
‘forget it! just get me my will. i have to make some last-minute changes’ he asks for it dramatically, draping a limp arm over his eyes.
‘you don’t have a will’ you blow on the hot soup in quick bursts before feeding him a spoonful.
‘ugh, never mind. it’s fine’ the will talk is waved off with a quick fan of the hand to make way for what he says next ‘they give everything to the spouse anyway. wait, do they?’
‘i don’t know, and we’re not married’ you remind him, stirring the hot liquid so the shredded chicken, his favourite part, rises to the top.
‘god, you’re right’ he sits up a little straighter and grabs your free hand, suddenly somber ‘do you take choi seungcheol to be your lawf-’
you force-feed him another spoonful to shut him up, a bit of it spilling onto the quilted blanket. the soup must’ve still been too hot because he lets out a little cry, whining, though it’s entirely possible he’s overreacting.
‘you’re not taking this seriously, i’m actually dying’
‘you’re not’
‘what do you know! you’re not a doctor!’ he grumbles, taking a moment to tell you he really likes the soup and really really appreciates you making it for him before continuing to rant.
‘yeah, and what about the actual doctor we called who said you’re not?’
‘he doesn’t know anything either, that hack. the people on the internet’ he picks up his phone from the bed, showing you a screenshot from some site you’re pretty sure is for hypochondriacs to confirm each other’s delusions, and taps on the screen ‘have told me i have less than 24 hours left. 24. 24!’
‘seungcheol, i can’t have this conversation with you anymore. seriously. you need to go to sleep’ you put the empty bowl aside, straightening, and then pulling the blanket up to cover him.
‘no, no, don’t leave. i want lap time’ he pouts, baby-talking his way into his third one of the day. you sit back down on the bed with a sigh as he repositions himself to lay on your lap, wriggling his head around until he’s comfy. your fingers slowly comb through his hair, your nails scratching lightly against his scalp to soothe him. in a slightly gross but domestic act, you pick a few bits of flaky skin out of his unwashed hair, flicking them away. you should wash it for him later, you think. he’d like that.
seungcheol always found the sensation of you picking at his scalp strangely comforting, and surprisingly quite sleep-inducing. minutes pass without a single sound.
it’s quiet. finally. or so you think.
‘if i die, you can’t date anyone for the next 10 years. at least’
‘what?!’ you jerk your thighs up, pushing him off your lap ‘10 years? you’re crazy’
he can’t believe what he’s hearing.
‘i was just being nice. you shouldn’t date anyone ever, but ohmygod, i can’t believe you want to be with someone else’ he presses his fingers to his temples, suddenly coming down with a headache.
‘so let me get this straight’ he continues ‘you’re telling me when i die tomorrow-’
‘you won’t’
‘-when i die tomorrow, you’re going to bring some other man to my funeral?!’ his cheeks now hot with a shade of distressed pink.
you’re not sure where he’s got that from but you’ve had enough. you get up, grabbing the bowl, and look him straight in the eye, pinching his cute little cheeks ‘well, it’s a good thing you’re not dying then’
you walk out, leaving him right there on the bed, hot and most definitely cold.
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bloatedandalone04 · 8 months
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It Can’t Be That Bad - Part 2
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➪the one where bradley fixes his mistake.
Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, smut, unprotected sex, hair pulling, once again a pain kink, arguments, fighting, descriptions of injuries, jake and bradley brawl for quick a minute, bradley being whipped for you, age gap, oral (f receiving), body worship, alcohol consumption
Word Count: 9.6k | Part 1, Part 3, Part 4
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
The Bronco was barely in park before Bradley was pulling out the keys and swinging the door open. He stuffs them into his pocket, along with his phone and wallet, as he enters the Hard Deck, his free hand fumbling to take off his aviators. His eyes scan the busy bar, looking for any glimpse of you.
After a full sweep of the room, he spots you over by the bar, phone in hand and a smile on your face that was so clearly forced, Bradley felt his heart clench at the sight of it. He stopped short of reaching you when he clued in to the person next to you, the man being the same one who introduced you to him in the first place. “Fucking Hangman,” he muttered under his breath when he saw the way Jake inched closer to you.
You were sitting on a stool while Jake loomed over you, both of you holding a beer in your hands. From Bradley’s point of view, you and Jake looked like a couple who were having a hard time trying not to jump each other’s bones right here and now, and an ugly feeling began creeping up his throat. 
Bradley supposed that was what you and he looked like when you ventured out to the bar together, back before he fucked up and stupidly let you go. 
That was the nice way of putting it. 
He rejected you. You gave him your heart and he threw it back at you without a second thought. He pushed you away without thinking about how it would make you feel, despite him feeling the exact same way, perhaps even stronger. 
Just the sight of you had all the air leaving his lungs. You are so beautiful and so caring and genuine to those around you. How could he ever let you believe you weren’t good enough for him? 
The last six weeks were ones he never wanted to experience ever again. He hated having no one to come home to, and he hated how it could’ve easily been you waiting on that dock for him, had he returned your feelings. The next time he was deployed, he desperately wanted you to be there for him when he got back. He wanted to come home to you. 
Without really having a plan in mind, Bradley made his way over to the bar, the crowded space making it a bit tough. He was a big guy, though, and used it to his advantage on the rare occasions when he felt he needed to. Like right now. 
He pushed past Bob, who had moved to greet him, but Bradley just gave him a quick pat on the back as he passed him. When he was a few feet away, he met Jake’s eyes and watched as he leaned down towards you.
Before Jake could give you the warning that he was right behind you, Bradley closed the distance and moved to stand on the other side of you. “Y/n,” he said, nearly breathless at being near you again after six weeks without you. 
You stiffen and glance over at him before turning to Jake and glaring at him. “Thanks for the warning,” you mutter and Jake just held his hands up in defense, making no move to walk away and give you some alone time with Bradley, like he so desperately wanted. 
“Hey, I tried,” he defended himself, reaching over and grabbing his bottle of beer. “Rooster’s fast when he needs to be, I guess.”
“Y/n,” Bradley said again and ignored Jake as he brought your attention back to him, refraining from placing his hand on the small of your back like he always did when you were beside him at the bar. “Can we talk, please?”
You looked up at him with a near-blank expression before sighing, running the tip of your index finger around the rim of the bottle in front of you. “I don’t think we need to, Bradley,” you answered and he furrowed his brows.
“Why not?” He asked, shaking his head slightly when you began to stand up. “You said we’d-”
“I didn’t,” you cut him off as you stepped backwards and towards Jake, who just placed his hand on your hip, surely knowing it would make Bradley see red. “I said I’d see you tonight, not that I would talk to you. I didn’t come here with you, Bradley, so there’s no reason I need to talk to you.”
Your words felt like a punch directly to his heart, and he just stared at you when Jake guided you away from the bar and towards the pool tables. He stayed still, his eyes burning a hole in the back of Jake’s head as the man showed off just how good he was at the game.
“Hey, Rooster,” Penny’s kind voice said from beside him. “Want your usual?”
But Bradley just shook his head, never tearing his eyes away from the scene in front of him. Fucking. Hangman. “Not tonight,” he answered as Jake pulled you into his side, mirroring the way Bradley did just six weeks prior. “Give me something stronger.”
Six shots and two beers later, and Bradley was just now starting to feel the effects of the alcohol in his system. He wasn’t planning on drinking much tonight, not when he was so sure he’d actually get the chance to explain himself. But you had been glued to Jake all night, similar to the way you used to be before he introduced you to Bradley and you then became attached to his hip, instead. 
And Bradley just watched. He felt like just another guy at the bar who was jealous of someone else’s relationship. Is this how the other men who frequented the Hard Deck felt when they saw you and Bradley all over each other? 
Was he seriously just another guy?
That’s exactly what he felt like as he sipped on his beer, glaring at the way Jake’s hand slowly but surely inched further down your back. He bit back a disapproving grunt, knowing Jake had to be doing this just to rile him up.
He introduced you as his friend, and now that you weren’t associated with Bradley anymore, Jake was suddenly all over you? 
He felt a sick feeling creeping up his throat as he thought about all the times Jake had taken you to the Hard Deck and acted like how he currently is now with you while Bradley was deployed. 
He assumed it had been more than once at this point, because no one seemed too fazed by the pair of you and seemed to have forgotten that it had been Bradley with you for nearly six months straight. 
He knew he didn’t have the right to be jealous, but he was. 
He hated the fact that you could’ve so easily been with him right now since you had made it clear that you were willing to wait for him because you were falling for him.
God, he had never felt this pathetic in all his years of life. He was a mere few weeks away from turning thirty five and he had shut down the one girl he could actually picture himself settling down with, and now he was drinking alone at a bar, staring at said girl as if he didn’t already have his chance with her. 
Nat had shown up at some point and tried to get him to talk to her, but he just gave her short answers and didn’t hold any conversations. She grew even more frustrated with him and ended up leaving her spot next to him so she could throw darts with Fanboy. 
Bradley had just finished off his third beer when he saw Jake lean down to press his lips to the spot behind your ear, making you laugh quietly as you as you playfully pushed him away.
Yeah, he’s seen enough. 
Bradley threw a few twenties on the bar before standing up from the stool, his body swaying at the sudden movement. He stumbled his way over to you, ignoring the flash of dread that covered your face as he wrapped his fingers around your wrist. “We need to talk,” he said sternly, keeping his eyes on you and pulling you away from Jake. 
“Why? Are you looking for another night of just fun?” You asked as you pulled your arm from his grip once you were standing on the deck outside. “That’s all it was, right?”
“That’s not all it was,” he muttered, the cool air not doing much to calm him down like he hoped it would.  
You narrow your eyes at him. “But you said-”
“I know what I said!” He cut you off, instantly regretting his inability to keep calm during a moment like this when he saw the way you flinched back slightly. He breathed out heavily, gently taking your hand in his as he continued, “I know, okay? Trust me, it’s all I’ve been thinking about for the last six weeks.”
He thought since you hadn’t pulled your hand away from his yet, that maybe you were actually willing to give him a chance to explain himself, but your next words proved him wrong, “Wow, really? Me too,” you said sarcastically. “Do you know how humiliating it was for me to explain to Jake that I had told you how I felt, just to have you throw it back at me as if you didn’t care at all? It was mortifying, Bradley, to tell you that I was falling for you and have you act as if it was the worst thing you had ever heard.”
You pulled your hand away from him and he swayed slightly at the fast movement. “I never wanted you to feel that way, Y/n/n,” he tried, but you just placed your hand flat against his chest.
“And you’re drunk,” you give him a firm push, successfully putting a decent amount of space between the two of you. “You won’t even remember this tomorrow, so why do I even bother?”
“Please, Y/n,” he begged, trying to step towards you but you just shook your head. “I missed you so much. I really, really want to talk things through with you.”
“I don’t want to talk to you,” was all you muttered as you walked towards the stairs. “If Jake asks where I am, tell him I went home. I don’t need him worrying about me more than he already is.”
Bradley wanted to spit something out in spite, but held back as he watched your retreating form head off in the direction of your car. With a heavy sigh and another urge to down the first drink he saw, he headed back into the bar. 
As he made his way towards Nat, Jake stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder. “Rooster,” he said over the music. “Where did Y/n go? Don’t tell me she’s outside waiting for you after believing whatever bullshit story you told her.”
Bradley muttered something under his breath as he turned to face the man. “She went home,” he replied, shoving Jake’s hand off his shoulder with more force than he needed to. 
“Hey, man, don’t get mad at me,” Jake said with an eye roll. “I’m the one who looked after her while you were away. I’m the one who made her smile again when she came back from dropping you off in tears.”
Bradley felt his skin heating up, not wanting to talk to the man anymore, and especially not about you. “Jake,” he warned. “Don’t.”
But Jake only laughed. “Don’t what, Rooster? What?” He asked with a certain hostility to his voice. “Do you know how it makes me feel to know I practically pushed her into your arms and had to watch as she got her heart broken? You might not be her friend, Bradshaw, but I am. And you’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here tonight and asking to speak with her.”
Taking another deep breath, Bradley tried to ignore all the eyes that were beginning to stare at him as the two aviators glared at each other. “I’m serious, Hangman, lay off,” 
You were right, he was drunk and not in the right state of mind to think rationally at this point. He needed to leave now before he did something he regretted. Before he did something that would further fuel your distaste for him.
“I don’t think I will,” Jake continued to push him. “See, you can be an dick to me all you want, but being a dick to Y/n is where I have a problem. She might want to forget it ever happened, but I won’t let you forget just how nice of a girl you let slip away. Truthfully, you never deserved her, and I’m mad at myself for introducing her to you, seeing how it worked out so well.”
“Enough,” Bradley nearly yelled, noticing that someone had stopped the music and that most of the patrons had gathered around at this point, including Nat, who gave him a look of warning. “Back off, Seresin, I mean it.”
He went to turn away, but Jake had other plans. “Or what? You gonna publicly humiliate me, too? Or is that just something you like to do to Y/n-” Bradley didn’t hear the rest as he quickly turned back around and punched Jake square in the nose. 
Jake stumbled back while Nat rushed forward to pull on Bradley’s arm. “Jesus, Bradley, are you crazy?!” She asked as she turned him to face her, but as soon as he took his eyes off Jake, the blond swung back and knocked him back a few feet.
Nat’s grip on Bradley loosened as he stumbled back, his hand reaching up to grip the side of his face as his head began to spin. 
Fanboy and Coyote held Jake back while Nat grabbed Bradley again. Penny rushed in and stood between the men with angry eyes and a bite to her tone. “Both of you, out. Now,” she said in a voice that left no room for arguments. 
Jake just glared at Bradley as he left the Hard Deck, Fanboy following quickly after him. 
Nat wrapped her arm around her best friend’s middle as she guided him out to the parking lot. “You’re wasted, Bradley,” she scolded as she led him over to her car. 
He narrowed his eyes, still holding his face with one hand while his other gripped her shoulder. “Where are we going? I didn’t park over here,” he mumbled and heard her scoff in response. 
“You didn’t think I was going to let you drive home after all this, did you?”
Bradley stopped, making her stop as well as he turned to give her an annoyed look. “I am not leaving my Bronco here overnight,” he stated and she rolled her eyes, holding out her free hand. 
“Fine,” she grunted. “Give me your keys. I’ll drive you home.”
Bradley did as he was told, placing the keys in her hand as he asked, “What about your car?”
“I’ll just crash at your place tonight and you can drive me home in the morning before work so I can change. I’ll pick up my car later,” she mumbled, pulling the passenger door open for him but leaving him to get himself in the car as she made her way to the driver’s side. 
After he hoisted himself into the car, Bradley rested his head against the window, the cool glass soothing the burn he felt on the right side of his face.
As Nat started the Bronco and set off in the direction of his house, she let the tense atmosphere grow thicker and thicker until she couldn’t hold herself back anymore. “What were you thinking? Going off on Hangman like that? You know how protective he is over her, there was no way you were winning that one,”
Bradley just shrugged, his eyes feeling heavy as he stared out the dark window. “I miss her, Nat,” he murmured. “I’m in love with her.”
Nat looked over at him in surprise. She knew he felt strongly about you, and it was obvious to anyone with eyes that he loved you, but to witness him finally admit it to himself was a bit shocking. “Have you told her that?” She asked, lowering her voice as she realized he was letting himself be vulnerable with her. 
“I wanted to, as soon as I got there,” he lifted his head and sat up a bit straighter, despite his body begging him to let it rest. “I was going to, but she was with Jake. She looked happy. She didn’t want to talk to me.”
Nat sighed heavily. “So make her talk to you,”
“I tried,” he rasped, his throat dry and his face sore. He made a mental note to never take the first swing at Jake Seresin ever again. “I tried to explain myself, but she just wanted to leave at that point.”
“Well, obviously,” Nat muttered, pulling onto his street. “You got drunk and couldn’t keep your eyes off her all night. She probably thought you just wanted to sleep with her again.”
When she pulled into his driveway, she turned off the car and moved so she was facing him. He looked back at her with tired eyes and a red cheek. “I want to be with her, Nat. I want us to be together,”
Her eyes stared into his for a few seconds before she sighed and pulled out the keys. “So tell her that. Sober, this time. Tell her everything, and don’t let her leave without her knowing how you really feel. I bet she still feels the same way,”
Bradley scoffed as he blindly reached for the handle. “Right,” he mumbled as he got out of the car. “I’m sure she’s still in love with the guy who walked away after she gave him her heart, and then that same guy gave her every mixed signal in return.”
Nat rolled her eyes as she got out of the car as well and helped him into the house. She led him down the hall to his room, where she pushed him down onto his covers and lifted his legs so he was laying down. “You need to tell her, Bradley,” she said quietly as she pulled his boots off and dropped them to the floor. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other, alright? Everyone has. If you could just admit your feelings to one another, you could be great together.”
Bradley looked at his best friend with hooded eyes, completely vulnerable as he wore his heart on his sleeve. “What if she doesn’t want me back?” He asked in defeat, not wanting to think about the possibility that he had truly blown his one shot with you. “What if she doesn’t want me anymore?”
Nat stared down at him as she sat next to him, trying to think of what to say that would make him feel even a little bit better. “Then at least you’ll know,” she offered, watching the way his shoulders dropped in dread. “And I’ll be right here, scolding you for letting her get away, but also applauding you for not going down without a fight.”
She leaned forward and kissed the mark on his face from Jake’s fist. 
“Literally,”
Bradley huffed out a laugh as he watched her stand up and turn off the lights before disappearing down the hall towards the guest room. 
She was right, like always. 
He needed to tell you how he felt, he needed to tell you what he should’ve told you that day on the dock.
But most of all, he just needed you. 
-
Bradley was met with a bruised cheek when he was finally able to pull himself out of bed the next morning. His head was pounding and his throat was dry, making him think back to his college days where he would drink into the early hours of the morning and wake up with countless hangovers. 
He felt awful, similar to how he felt back when he was a twenty year old frat boy who had no idea what to do with his life. 
Waking up in his own bed without you felt foreign. He had gotten so used to falling asleep with you in his arms and waking up with you, he didn’t know what to do with himself. 
For what felt like the millionth time, Bradley wished his parents were here. He wanted to be able to confide in his mom, and be chewed out by his dad, then watch his mom chew out his dad for chewing him out. 
He knew that if they were still here, he wouldn’t be in this situation because both his mom and his dad would’ve called him out for stringing you along like he did, way before he even realized his true feelings for you.
Since he had fallen asleep on top of the covers, he didn’t need to worry about making the bed. He left it the way you had neatly made it up the day you drove him to the carrier ship, numbly pulling on his work clothing before grabbing his phone. Nat had thankfully put it on charge, so he had a full battery to go into work with. 
When he made his way to the kitchen, he found his best friend sitting at the island, a coffee mug in one hand and a piece of toast in the other. She gave him a quick wave as she slowly slid the second coffee mug across the counter. “Drink up, Roozie,” she said as she finished her toast, gathering up all the crumbs in her palm before brushing them off in the sink. 
Bradley grunted as he sipped on the coffee, his head still pounding. “Think I’m going to need more than one of these to get me through today,” he muttered, eyeing Nat as she wandered around his house in the clothing she wore last night. “I have some clothes you could wear, if you want.”
She shook her head. “No, thanks. Save that offer for when you win Y/n back and she raids your closet again,” she winked, making him groan quietly at the image of you wearing his clothes. “I’m not trying to rub salt in the wound, here, but when she wore your shirt at the Hard Deck the day before your deployment? I can’t believe you didn’t make things official right then and there.”
Bradley finished his coffee, setting the mug down in the crumb-littered sink as he turned to face her. “Don’t remind me,” 
She held her hands up. “Right, sorry,” she said before grabbing her phone from off the counter. “Anyway, we should get going. The sooner you’re done with work, the sooner you can work on getting your girlfriend back.”
She was testing him, but he just shook his head, not bothering to correct her as he grabbed his keys from where she threw them onto the table beside the door last night. 
At work, Bradley laid low for a while, only talking to those who talked to him, and avoiding Jake like the plague. He was doing a pretty decent job, until he ran into him in the cafeteria. 
Jake was sporting a bruised nose, and Bradley wished he could find joy in the fact that he did that, but he knew that when you saw it, you’d be even more pissed with him than you already are. 
Bradley also knew he looked worse, but that was only because he had thrown the first punch. Just another thing that was entirely his fault. 
He didn’t say anything to Jake as he walked past him and ended up leaving the cafeteria altogether, pulling his phone out on his way to the tarmac. He clicked on your contact and brought the phone up to his ear before he could talk himself out of it. 
Really, he was embarrassed about how he acted last night, but he also wanted to forget about it all and get you back. If that meant owning up to his dumb actions from the previous evening, then so be it. 
He braced himself against the side of the building by placing his palm flat against the wall, his grip on his phone tightening the longer he was met with the obnoxious ringing sound.
Just as he was about to hang up and call again, you answered with a sharp, “What?” 
Though your voice wasn’t super friendly at the moment, Bradley couldn’t help but let a feeling of hope wash over him because you had actually picked up. Sure, you took your sweet time doing it, but you still answered his call. “Hey, Y/n/n,” he said in a much softer tone than he used last night. “I can’t talk for long because I’m at work, but I just needed to say something.”
You waited a heartbeat or two before replying with a cautious, “Okay? What?” 
He huffed out a breath he didn’t know he was holding before he opened his mouth in an apology, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I was an asshole last night, and I don’t blame you for not wanting to talk to me. You were right, I was drunk and had no business trying to get you to talk with me when I was like that,” he said in one go, stumbling over a few of his words, but continuing nonetheless, “And I’m sorry for what I said to you back on the dock. I didn’t realize it then, but you told me everything I wanted to hear, I just didn’t know how to deal with it.”
It was silent on your end for a bit, and he could picture you chewing on your bottom lip as you tried to think of what to say to him. A few more seconds pass before you finally break the silence. “Well, thanks for apologizing,” your voice was much quieter than before, and you sounded much more willing to actually talk to him. 
And he wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to keep you talking to him. “Like I said, I’m at work…but I really want to see you later, explain why I said what I did and how much of a fucking idiot I’ve been, if you’ll let me,” he nearly whispered the last part. “Come over later? Please? I promise, it’s not just me wanting to have fun with you, because that was never all it was for me. I can’t believe I even said that.”
You sighed and he prepared himself for the rejection he knew he deserved, but you surprised him as you asked, “Six, right? That’s when you’re off?”
Bradley pushed himself off the wall and looked around at the empty tarmac before answering, “Yeah, yes,” he quickly spoke. “Six.”
“Okay,” you murmured, your next words making a grin break out on his face. “I’ll be there for seven, maybe seven thirty if I begin to have second thoughts.”
And then you hung up, and Bradley was left standing by himself, smiling like he had just won the lottery, when in reality, he had just won something so much better. 
-
After quickly dropping Nat off at the Hard Deck so she could get her car, Bradley was speeding home in a way that was similar to when he floored it when you informed him you’d see him there yesterday. 
He quickly unlocked the door and stripped on his way to his bathroom for a shower, not wanting the way he had started to sweat after you confirmed that you’d come over later be the first thing you were met with when you arrived. 
He switched his shirt probably around four times before settling on a simple black tee and dark jeans. He paced the length of his living room for nearly twenty minutes before stopping abruptly and pulling out his phone to check the time. 
It was nearing seventy thirty, and Bradley began to think you really were having second thoughts, but he wasn’t able to dwell on it for long before he heard the sounds of knocking coming from his front door. 
He pocketed his phone and made his way to the door within three strides, pulling it open to reveal you in a cute oversized tee that was tucked into your jean shorts. It was similar to the way you looked when he took you to the Hard Deck, and while he knew you thought it was just a casual outfit, Bradley thought you never looked better. 
But then again, he found you hot in any kind of clothing, so he was a bit biased. 
“Hi,” he said when he opened the door, trying not to let his eyes wander too much. 
“Hi,” you said back, hesitantly meeting his eye with a forced smile that faltered when you caught sight of the bruise on his cheek. If you wanted to say anything about it, you held back and he could appreciate your ability to bite your tongue when you needed to. “Sorry, I really didn’t know if I was coming tonight.” You add when he stepped aside and allowed you to enter his house. 
He closed the door behind you, following you into the living room as he shrugged. “It’s fine. I’m glad you’re here,”
You slowly sat down on the couch, awkwardly gazing up at him as if you had no business being there. As if he hadn’t fucked you into the very cushions you were sat on more times than he could count on one hand. As if he hadn’t blown off plans with his friends so he could hold you on this couch while you watched movie after movie instead. 
You bit your lip as you thought of what to say, and Bradley had to look away quickly before you really began to think he just wanted you here so you could get him off. “So….how was your day?”
Had things really become that bad? To the point where that was the only thing you could think of asking him?
“It was fine,” he answered as he moved to sit down next to you, leaving a few inches of space between your thigh and his. You didn’t look uncomfortable yet, so he safely assumed you had no problem with him slightly invading your personal space. “How was yours?”
Oh, yeah. This was bad.
“It was fine,” you repeated his answer, and you quickly realized that as you added, “Yeah, it was good.”
“Good,” someone kill him now. This was not how he wanted to start this night off with you. 
Before he could mentally call himself out on how dumb he was acting, you asked him, “Can I ask what happened to your face?” Your tone held a sliver of humor, a teasing smile on your lips that quickly had the awkward tension begin to dissolve. 
He laughed and scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, it happened last night,”
You nodded, raising a brow when he didn’t continue. “What, did you run face first into a door or something?”
“No, Jake punched me,” he said and watched the way your small grin dropped and how your eyes widened. You open your mouth in concern, but he quickly added, “After I punched him.” 
Your concerned expression drops even quicker as you break eye contact with him and run your tongue along the underside of your teeth. “Uh,” you refrain from completely losing your cool before you heard what exactly went down. “Why, exactly, did you punch him?”
When you didn’t turn to look at him again, Bradley shrugged. “Because you came with him and not me,” 
That had you turning to look over at him. “What?” You asked in disbelief. “Seriously? You were jealous?”
He sat up a bit straighter as he began to feel like he was being interrogated. “Yeah, I was,” he answered, cutting you off before you could even say anything, “He kept making very valid points to me about how I fucked things up and how I never deserved you in the first place, and he was making too much sense so I punched him.” 
You squinted at him but then suddenly laughed when you realized he was being serious. “Oh, my God, Bradley,” you scolded. “You can’t just go around punching people because they were making too much sense, especially Jake.”
“I was drunk,” he weakly defended himself, but sighed right alongside you when you gave him an unimpressed look. “I know that’s not an excuse.” 
“You’re right,” you agreed, fighting back a dumb grin at the fact that you had actually managed to make him jealous without even trying to. “It’s not.”
Bradley shook his head as he, too, fought off an embarrassed smile. “I was just so unbelievably jealous when I walked in and saw you under his arm, because I knew that could’ve been me had I not turned you down,”
You look away quickly as the memory of that day comes spiraling back. “So…why did you?” You asked quietly as you placed with the silver ring you wore on your right index finger. “Turn me down? Was it really because I’m too young for you? Because I read too much into things?”
“No,” he quickly answered, turning his body towards yours. “God, no, that wasn’t it at all. I was just…an idiot, to put it simply. I was too afraid to give in and admit to myself that I felt the exact same way that you did.”
“But why?” You asked and lifted your gaze to meet his. “Why were you afraid? It’s just me.”
“I know,” he held back on referring to you with one of the many pet names he had given you during the last six months. “And it wasn’t you, I promise. This is all on me and my stupid trust issues and my inability to realize just how good I had it until it was gone…until you were gone.”
You press your lips into a thin line as you process his words. “You could’ve just told me that, instead of making me feel like I was just one big mistake to you,” 
Bradley felt his heart crack at that, a heat pooling in his bones as he realized just how much his words truly affected you. “You are not a mistake,” he said, sounding more serious than he had ever sounded before. “You are one of the best things that has ever happened to me, and Jake was right, I never deserved to have you in the way I did.”
“Bradley-”
“No, it’s true. We were so fucking good together, and it felt so right with you, and all it took for me to fuck it up was you admiting what we both already knew; that it was so much more than just us hooking up,” he was surprised how easy it was for him to open up to you, seeing as the only other person he could be vulnerable with was Nat, but he knew you wouldn’t make him feel bad for showing you this side of him. “There was something there between us, and there still is for me, and I’m so sorry I let you believe that there wasn’t.”
Your eyes flickered all over his face and you thought back to how differently he looked at you six weeks ago. Back then he looked so cold and came off as arrogant, but now he looked genuine, like he truly meant every word he told you. Maybe that was why you felt yourself beginning to break down the walls you had put up the second he had broken your heart. “So, what do you feel between us now? How do you feel about me?”
When Bradley met your eyes, he saw that same vulnerability you had when you confessed your feelings for him. You were giving him the second chance he had wanted for weeks now, and he would not let you get away again. 
He took your hand in his as his knee brushed yours. “I feel that, given the chance to prove myself to you, we could be just as good together as we were before. No, we could be even better,” he emphasized the last word and watched as the last bit of reluctance faded from your eyes. “And as for how I feel about you? I don’t think I’m falling for you.”
When he felt your grip on his hand loosen, and saw the way your eyes pricked with unshed tears, he quickly moved closer to you. 
“I know I’m in love with you,” he added, “And I have been for half a year now.”
A second or two passes before a big grin spreads across your face, and you reach up with your free hand to grip the side of his face, letting your thumb brush against his scars. “You’re in love with me?” You asked, desperate to know he wasn’t just messing with you in hopes to get you back to how things were before. “You’re really in love with me?”
Bradley just nodded, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand as he said the thing he should’ve a month and a half ago, “I love you,” 
You smile again and refrain from jumping on him right then and there. 
“And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way,” he adds, looking down at your joined hands and missing the way your brows furrowed in disbelief. “I can wait, I just needed to tell you that-”
You cut him off by leaning forward and pressing your lips to his in a kiss that leaves you both feeling dizzy. “Are you kidding me?” You against his mouth, removing your hand from his in order to grip the back of his neck. “Of course I love you. I have for months.”
Bradley was barely able to grin back at you before your mouth was covering his once again, and his hands were gripping your waist and pulling you onto his lap. “I missed you so much,” he murmured in between kisses. “I regretted what I said the second I saw you crying and I was too far away to do anything about it. It felt like I had left my heart back on that dock with you.”
You push him so he’s sitting back against the couch, your knees pressing into the cushions on either side of him as you straddle his lap. “So,” you pressed a chaste kiss to his mouth, laughing afterwards when he quickly guided you into another one as you pulled away. “You don’t think I’m too young and immature for you?” 
Bradley closed his eyes when he felt your lips latch onto his neck, groaning as you began to suck a mark onto his skin. “Fuck no,” he answered, slipping his hands into the back pockets of your shorts and pulling your hips forward to create the smallest bit of friction. “You’re more mature than most of the people I work with.”
You hum in approval, running your tongue over the fresh mark he would proudly wear at work tomorrow. “And you’re okay with us being in two different places in our lives?”
“I don’t care where we are,” he confirmed, guiding your lips back to his in a bruising kiss. “Just as long as I’m with you.”
“Good answer,” you kiss him again as your fingers begin to work on the zipper of his jeans. 
“Wait,” he reluctantly pulls away from your mouth, his hold on your hips making you halt your mission on his zipper. 
“What’s wrong?” You quickly ask, worried you’d overstepped a boundary without realizing it.
But Bradley just playfully scoffed at you, lifting you up and turning so you were laying against the couch and he was hovering over you. He unbuttoned your shorts and pulled them down your legs, a deep groan leaving the back of his throat when he caught sight of the black lace that covered your core from him. “You just told me you love me and gave me a second chance,” he stated as he pressed an open mouth kiss to your inner thigh. “Nothing could be wrong after that.”
You stifle a quiet laugh, a moan slipping out instead when he placed a kiss to your clothed clit.
His fingers pulled down the lace and dropped the fabric to the floor next to your shorts as he muttered, “It’s been way too long since I tasted you,” before he began to devour you like a starved man. 
He supposed he was as he missed the sweet taste that only belonged to you so much. 
Your head leaned back against the decorative pillow on the armrest of the couch, your hand instinctively going straight to his hair. Bradley groaned against you at the subtle tug he received, growing harder in his jeans as he pulled your legs so they’re resting over his shoulders. 
The vibration had you clenching around nothing, a low whine escaping your parted lips. “Bradley,” you gasped quietly when he nudged your folds apart with his nose before licking a flat strip up the center of you. 
“Say my name again,” he softly demanded, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you even closer to his awaiting tongue. “Who’s making you feel good right now?”
“You,” it came out as a breath when he wrapped his lips around your clit, and you clenched tightly around nothing. “It’s you, Bradley. Fuck.”
“That’s right, baby,” he praised and the name had your eyes squeezing shut. “You’re so good for me, taste so fucking good.” 
Butterflies erupted in your body at his sweet but absolutely filthy words. “Bradley,” you nearly whispered, tugging a bit harder on his hair as you knew it would drive him crazy. “I missed you.”
Like you expected he would, a deep growl once again sent vibrations up your body and once again had you clenching around nothing. “I missed you, too, sweet girl, fuck, did I ever,” he muttered against your throbbing clit, the soft graze of his teeth making your breath hitch in your throat. “I missed you for six weeks straight, missed you when I got home and saw that you had taken out all your things you had in here. I want you to put it all back and never take them out again.”
You whimpered at his words and the possessiveness that laced them. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were asking me to move in with you,” you tried to make your voice sound teasing, but you were completely at his mercy right now and not even close to being in control.   
“Good idea,” he replied and your heart skipped a beat at what he was insinuating. You didn’t have time to dwell on what he meant by that before he was continuing, “Move in with me, please?”
Bradley knew he was moving too fast, but he felt as if he had already wasted so much time being away from you the last six weeks, he didn’t want to waste anymore. He needed you in his life, wanted to pick up on your habits and come home to a house full of yours and his things. 
He wanted to share his life with you in all the ways he didn’t before. He wouldn’t fuck this up again, and he wanted you to know just how serious he is about you and how serious he is about starting an official relationship with you.
You could hardly focus on what he was asking you to do. His tongue had slid back down your folds and penetrated you just slightly, your wetness coating the muscle as he lapped at you. 
He knew it wasn’t fair to ask you that while he was currently tongue fucking you, but in all fairness, you were the one who technically brought it up. “Please,” he begged against your heat. “Say you’ll move in with me, spend every night with me in our own bed, in our own house.”
His offer only sounded better and better, almost as good as his mouth felt against your throbbing clit. “Bradley,” 
“We’d be together everyday,” he rasped and you practically came from just his promises. When his mouth was back on you a second later, he grinned at the extra wetness he felt and took pride in the way he got you off at the idea of moving in together. He licked you clean before moving back up your body and hovering over you. “It could be like this every night.”
You moan quietly when he presses a soft kiss to your mouth. 
He ended it all too quickly as he slowly licked his lips that still tasted like you before asking, “So, what do you say?”
“Yes,” you were finally able to properly answer him, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders and pulling him closer to you. “Yes, I’ll move in with you.”
You share a couple more heated kisses before you pull away and gaze up at him with an unreadable emotion swimming in your eyes. Bradley caught on to the sudden change, and he reached his hand up to caress the side of your face. “What’s wrong?”
Shaking your head, you huff quietly and gently bump your nose against his. “Nothing,” you answer. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just…This is all I’ve ever wanted for months. It’s hard to believe it’s actually happening.”
Bradley physically felt his heart skip a beat as he thought about all the pain he had put you through, and not even as recent as six weeks ago. He had unknowingly strung you along, played with your heart and allowed you to think this whole thing was purely sexual. 
He needed to assure you that this is real, that his feelings for you are real and genuine. “Baby,” he murmured, capturing your lips in a deep kiss as he slowly ground his hips against yours, the cool metal of his zipper rubbing against your pulsing core making you see stars behind your closed eyelids. “It’s happening. You and me, us. I love you and I’m so sorry for fucking things up so badly between us.”
You tug at the fabric of his shirt and give him a small smile, brushing your lips against his. “It’s okay,” you whisper. “We have each other now, right?”
“Right,” he confirmed and that was all you needed to hear before your shaking hands were pulling the black fabric off his upper body. 
The sight of his toned chest and abs on full display had you holding back a moan, your lip getting caught between your teeth as your eyes raked over his damn near flawless body. 
Bradley’s hand that was on your face moved so his thumb was slipping past your lips, and he watched with a slack jaw as you sucked it in deeper, your tongue running along the underside of it. “Fuck, you’re so hot,” he really didn’t understand how a guy like him ended up with a girl like you, but he was done questioning it as you clearly felt the exact same way about him. You love him, and that’s all he needed to know.
“I think you’re talking about yourself,” you say as you press your lips to the skin of his neck. “You’re so attractive, Bradley, you could get me off with just a look.” Then you were sucking his skin, similar to the way you were sucking his thumb just a few seconds earlier. 
He grunted at the stinging sensation of the hickey you left on his neck, right next to the other one from earlier in the night. “That’s it, sweet girl,” he praised as he lifted your shirt over your head, your bra being pulled from your body quickly after. “Mark me up, show everyone that I belong to you.”
You gasp out in need, pulling his mouth back to yours as your hands frantically push down his jeans and boxer briefs. “Mine,” you whimper against his lips, feeling him hum in confirmation. 
“Yours, baby,” he replied, wrapping your legs around his waist as he teased your soaking entrance. “All yours.”
Then he was pushing into you. Your walls stretched around him and took him in perfectly, making his head fall against your shoulder as he got used to the feeling of you around him again after so long. 
“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling out only halfway before burying himself deep within you once again. “God, baby, you feel so good.”
His words release more butterflies all over your body and you clench around him, your greedy walls sucking him in even deeper. “Go slow,” you request in a quiet voice, making him lift his head to meet your eyes. 
Really, he was fine with fucking you into the cushion with enough force to break the springs, and he was also fine with loving your body with his own. “You want me to go slow?” He asked as he pulled out all the way then sunk right back in. “Fuck you nice and slow, like this?”
When he repeated the movement a couple times, you nod quickly and reach your hands up so they’re in his hair. “Yeah,” you breathe out, connecting your lips in a barely-there kiss before saying, “Just like that. I want to feel every inch of you in me.”
Bradley’s hips stuttered at that, breaking the slow pace for a quick second as he placed his forearm against the cushion next to your head. “Fuck, baby, you can’t say things like that and expect me to not fuck you hard into this couch.” 
You laughed quietly, and the sound only spurred him on as he set the slow pace once again. “You need to gain some self control, Bradley,” you purred into his ear and he was once again refraining from absolutely destroying your core. 
“I can’t,” he said as he began to place kisses all over your collarbones and shoulders. “Not when I have you wrapped around me, not when you’re taking me so well. Fuck, look at you.”
You give him a teasing smile that fades quickly when he sucks the skin of your throat. After half a year with him, you’ve noticed he seems to have a favorite spot on your neck where he likes to kiss you and leave physical proof of his mouth being there. 
The last time you felt his lips on that spot was when he got you off so good before taking you to the Hard Deck, where you showed off the hickey he left on you. 
“I can’t believe you’re mine,” he muttered, mostly to himself as he gazed down at your saliva coated skin. “After everything, after I fucked things up, you’re still mine.”
You hum, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing him closer to you, making him reach even deeper within you. “I always was yours,” you confessed and felt the way his grip tightened on you. 
“But,” he grunted as his hips rocked into yours in a slow rhythm, that sick feeling of jealousy creeping back into him, despite him being very aware of his current position of being buried within you. “You were with Jake last night-”
“But my heart was always with you,” you cut him off and noticed the way he seemed to relax at your words. “My heart was still yours, even after you broke it.” You give him a teasing grin in hopes he wouldn’t take it too hard, but this was Bradley, and he was a pretty emotional guy when it came down to certain things.
While you had given him all the reassurance he needed, he was still feeling so awful for how he treated you, and he wanted to make it up to you. He wanted you to forget about it, forget that dumb side of him who didn’t understand what he was saying. 
“I’m not going to do that ever again,” he promised, jerking his hips a bit roughly but not picking up the pace. “I’m going to treat you so well, be so good to you all the time. You’re going to grow so fucking sick of me, I swear.”
You would’ve laughed, but the sharp snaps of his thrusts had you getting lost in the feeling of him. “‘S all I’ve wanted,” you whimpered when he reached one hand down to rub circles on your still sensitive clit. 
It throbbed against the pad of his middle finger in time with the way your walls pulsed around him. He was driving into you so slowly, you felt every single inch of him as he invaded your warm and inviting core. 
You were so used to the rough, fast paced sex with him in the past, but this was different. Back then, he was just trying to get you off in the ways he knew you liked, and desperately tried to ignore the unspoken words between the two of you.
He tried to fuck away his true feelings for you, hoping that the way his heart would flip at your sweet sounds and how his whole body fit so perfectly against your own was just him getting caught up in the moment. 
He was so glad he was wrong and finally allowed himself to face reality. 
“You’re all I want, too,” he struggled to say as you clenched tightly around him. “I don’t know why I even bothered trying to deny it…fuck, you’re so tight.”
You smirk to yourself at his struggle to keep control of the slow drag of his hips. “Only for you,” you fed into his possessiveness over you, and raked your nails down his back.
“Fuck,” he hissed at the sting, the light scratches on his skin feeling better than he ever thought was possible. “Thank you for giving me a second chance, sweet girl. I won’t fuck this up again.”
You press your lips to his as you feel the coil in your abdomen begin to unravel. “‘M gonna come again,” you informed him against his mouth, fueling him to pick the pace up just slightly as he continued with his sharp thrusts. 
“I want you to so badly,” a deep grunt left his lip as he felt the beginning of your orgasm start to coat him. “Just like that, baby. Come for me, I want to feel it all over me. I want it to be messy.”
Your mouth breaks away from his in order for you to be able to let out a loud moan, followed by a call of his name as your release surged through you. With a gentle hand pressed to his face, your thumb brushing against the bruise he received last night, you came hard around him.
“Fuck yeah, baby,” he rasped next to your ear, using your willing core to get himself there, as well. “You look so fucking hot when you come for me.”
Whimpering at the sensitivity, you push him closer with your heel against his back. “Wanna feel you, too,” you mumbled, helplessly taking each thrust he gave as you wouldn’t be fully satisfied until he, too, got off. “I want it in me.”
Bradley’s jaw locked at that, his neck straining as he gave two more quick thrusts before stilling. You were rewarded with a deep, throaty groan as he spilled his seed into you, and you took every single drop.
Your walls, seemingly desperate to feel him breed them once again, gripped him tightly when he lazily started to rock his hips into yours again. The both of you were far too sensitive to go for round two right now, so he was just riding your highs for as long as he could. 
You gently massaged his scalp, his head undoubtedly sore from your relentless tugs on his hair. Bradley was actually excited to deal with the brief headache that would come from it. He was even more excited to see the scratches on his back tomorrow morning, and he was excited to take you to the Hard Deck on Friday night and officially make it known to everyone there that you are his and he is yours. 
Granted, most of the people there already assumed that, but it would still feel great to finally go public with you. 
Bradley wrapped you up in his arms and got into a more comfortable position with you on the couch. He placed a few kisses to the top of your head as you basked in the afterglow, finally feeling truly happy for the first time in over a month. “I love you,” he had somehow managed to win you back, and he would make damn sure he keeps his promise of never breaking your heart again. “Every single part of you.”
You lean up and press a kiss to the mark on his cheek, making a mental note to give Jake a hard time about using his fists instead of walking away. You were still grateful that he was so protective over you, though, so you wouldn’t be too serious about it. “I love you, too, Bradley,” you say back. “I always have.”
-
@everythingmarveltopgun
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moondirti · 1 month
Note
pregnant diner waitress reader just has a dirtbag babydaddy, calling her and screaming the whole over the car and her being late.
honestly i hadn’t planned to have her baby daddy in the picture at all but the angst potential here… too tempting to pass up
PART 1 • PART 2
tags: simon x reader x johnny. darkfic. dirtbags. verbal abuse (not by ghost or soap). pregnant fem!reader who still hasn’t realised she’s being actively abducted.
It takes a bit to convince you to let them drive you home.
Your resistance is met with a paradoxical reaction by both men. On the one hand, there’s a warm comfort at the knowledge that you aren’t so easy to take advantage of. Even in your distraught state, you push back against every solution they propose. It is quite a detour, I’d hate to inconvenience you or I’m sure I can get a friend to come out instead. You’re wary, though your exhaustion sways you to assume the best of them, which means that you aren’t quite at the point of flat out refusal.
Otherwise, they – Simon, in particular – simmer in frustration. Red wine in a saucepan, reduced to a stronger version of itself over flame. Bitter. Strong. More insistent: cannae rest easy tonicht knowing we left an expecting hen tae fend fur herself. They poke at the knot until they find a loosening, tugging, tugging, then abandoning it once a more promising end appears.
Eventually, their combined efforts (though most of the credit can be attributed to the sincere, puppy dog look Johnny sports at all times. Hard to resist, even for Simon) dismantle your willpower. You duck your head in a modest thank you and shuffle behind them, seating yourself firmly behind the drivers seat even though you’re offered shotgun, hugging your bag over your belly.
“Do you need me to type in the address on google maps or something?” You say after they pull out of the parking lot.
“Y’were on about Adderford.” Simon meets your wide eyes in the rearview.
“Yeah.”
“Reckon I know the road.”
Simon does know the way, and so does Johnny. Adderford, off of exit A36. Near a polluted lake that was the victim of an attempt to turn the town into an industrial hub. Nothing to show for that, of course – all it has to offer now is a poor quality of life for all those who weren’t fortunate enough to get out.
Yeah. They know the way, and their confidence must set a precedent for the trip. Your anxious fidgeting stops after 10 minutes of driving, and you’re smiling at the nonsensical story coming from the passengers seat a mere 5 minutes later. In the meanwhile, your rationalisation is visible. Simon watches your gaze flicker back and forth between them, then around the car that must feel luxurious next to yours. If they wanted to do something bad to you, then they would’ve already done so. Besides, what kind of delinquents drive a wrangler?
30 minutes in, you’re fast asleep.
They really couldn’t have asked for a better turn of events.
They come up on exit A36 and stick to the middle lane, passing the little sign that points to Adderford being a couple miles out. Past the point of no return, beelining towards the secluded house they’ve made your new home, and you can be none the wiser. Johnny can’t believe their luck, babbling in a hushed voice about how nice it’ll when you to wake up in their bed.
The fantasy loses its grip when your phone rings, blaring from deep within your bag. Panic ripples across your face, jolting you from your sleep as you scramble for the device. The series of events unfolds in far too familiar a way for one of them. Simon – a buried torment wringing around his guts as he listens in.
“H-Hello? Shit. What–” You’re breathless, stuttering. Back to that scared little thing they found by her car, crying. “Please- please calm down.”
And though you try to keep your voice low, they leech on to every word you say. Someone on the other line yells, indistinct insults punching through the mic and landing. You wilt, tucking your lip underneath two teeth, waiting the anger out.
(Tommy donned the same expression those nights when things got bad. Simon remembers hugging him against his chest so he wouldn’t have to face the misery his brother’s countenance wrought.)
“You shouldn’t- I’m sorry, but I thought I c-changed the locks. You’re not allowed to be in… not in my apartment.” More yelling. Soap twists a fist, concoting a hundred different ways he can track whoever it is down. Make them pay for their abuse with their own tongue down their throat. “It’s none of your business- you left…”
“Easy.” Simon whispers to his partner.
“Si.”
“I know, boy.” Perhaps all too well. It gets harder to keep a firm steer over the wheel.
“Don’t accuse me of– my fucking car broke down! You shouldn’t even– fuck! Hello? Hello?” A low scream tears from your throat, prelude to the aggressive shoving of your phone down into back your bag. Trembling fingers press down over your eyes, rubbing until your tears soak into your skin. Ridding of the evidence to your dismay. You suck in large gulps of air, holding them in your chest until it aches, then gasp out equally hefty exhales.
No one speaks for a while. Then–
“I don’t think I should go home right now.”
Too broken for them to feel anything but overwhelming pity. Johnny clicks his tongue, looking over his shoulder so you can latch on to the sincerity that seems to calms you so.
“O’course. Whatever ye need, lass.”
Your frown softens “There’s a motel–”
“Next one’s farther ou’ than our place is. Can’t take you there and back m’fraid.” Simon interjects. Like a record scratch, or sandpaper on an already raw moment. It must make him an awful man to use your earlier propriety against you, but conviction has superseded his desire to act decently.
Sure enough, you visibly blanch, shaking your head and stumbling over your words.
“No! No, of course not. Of course- that was so silly of me to ask. You can, I mean… you can drop me off anywhere, really. I’ll sort t-things out for myself.”
“Not what I meant, pet.”
You don’t catch on. He doesn’t repeat.
Johnny bridges the gap.
“We’ve got a spare bedroom.”
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yxami · 24 days
Text
Yandere coworker!!
Desc: Yandere coworker x gn reader, general Yandere behaviors, possessive, a pinch of toxicity, jealousy, and other things. He’s pretty tame compared to others.
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Coworkers, meant to keep relationships within company time and inside the workplace, but a few drinks with the boss and others wouldn’t hurt right? You tell yourself that as you get ready for it, putting on nice shoes you wouldn’t usually wear and a casual outfit for dinner.
It’ll go by fast and you won’t drink that much, at least not enough to have a hangover.
But your plan fails when one of your coworkers insists you drink more than your tolerance can handle, one shot after another before you can notice that you’re tipsy and stumbling over your own words, and seemingly nothing on the ground but you don’t pay enough mind to it.
“Here, cheers to another shot” Your pushy coworker hands you another, or at least attempts to before a veiny hand pushes the tiny glass away.
“That’s enough. Can’t you see how drunk they are?” An intimidating but familiar voice speaks, your coworker that you’ve hardly spoken to defends you. He was always a quiet one, keeping to himself, he was scary but always did what he was told by the boss. You’ve tried being nice but he seems like a shut in so you stayed inside your cubicle that happened to be right by his.
“Awh cmon, don’t be a wimp, another won’t hurt you right?” He turns his focus back on you, a wobbly smile on his face, clearly showing the intoxicated state he caused for himself.
“No, and you should stop drinking, we all have work tomorrow.” He stands up, towering over him as he denies the drink for you once again. “Let’s go, I’ll take you home” He sighs, helping you to lean on his side as much as you can with the height difference.
He might as well carry you..
“Mm’ fine, I’lll…. just order a cab home” You slur your words, trying not to cause trouble on a coworker you’ve hardly spoken to other than saying “yes, no, over there” every now and then to each other.
“I insist. It’s too late anyways and I’ve hardly drank, I just hope these idiots can manage to find their way home” He sighs, looking at the passed out coworkers and your boss somehow still preforming songs on the karaoke machine.
You stay quiet after that, observing his serious expression and cologne, it smelt nice, like a cold fall breeze before a walk. You recall the way your boss insisted for everyone to dress casual, but here he was, in a suit without worry about you vomiting all over it or in his car, buckling you in, mimicking a child with its parent.
The car drive seems rather short, at least for you, but time seemed to go a snails pace for him while he drove.
Why did he offer help? It’s not like he cares about you, but he couldn’t sit and let you get fed shot after shot, clearly that guy didn’t know his own limit. And plus, he was leaving so it was convenient to take you home, even though you weren’t on the way..
He shouldn’t have helped, what if you assumed the two of you were buddy buddy now? He hates that shit, someone clinging onto him because they believe they’ve made a breakthrough in his just because he keeps things professional.
They only care about what makes them feel special and hell, they weren’t in the slightest.
But you don’t act that way, if anything you were the complete opposite.
“Thank you for driving me home, I was definitely way too drunk to do so” You laugh slightly, thankful that he troubled himself to bring you home. It was a little embarrassing to recall how he put you to bed and made you drink water before he left.
“No problem, next time learn how to say no, it’s not hard” He casually delivers a brutally honest sentence, you can’t decipher whether if it was a kind gesture or not but continue on.
“You’re right, I haven’t grown a spine yet” You joke, smiling this time with your words. “I brought you some food I picked up before work, I hope you like baked goods, I wasn’t sure what you’d like so I got a small container of everything” You grab the cardboard box you had on your desk and hand it to him, hoping he at least wanted one.
“Oh.. thanks.” He quietly says, looking down at the small box in his hands. You nod and try to focus on your work after that, attempting to not riddle yourself with worry about how you may have given a shitty ‘thank you!’ gift.
After that, you would attempt to befriend him, as much as he would let you. You never pushed further than what he gave, you wanted to be kind so you weren’t exactly best friends but you were able to greet him unlike the others who couldn’t.
“Do you want to eat lunch together?”
“Huh?”
“Eat lunch. Together?” He repeats, turning his chair to face you, eyes now staring up at yours rather than his freshly printed paper that was warm to the touch.
“Oh yeah.. yeah! that would be nice” You say, a little surprised that he offered, let alone was willing to eat lunch with someone.
He wasn’t sure why either, but his mind has been nagging at him to interact with you. He’s been craving to see you more and he’s been doing relatively well with hiding it but he can’t comprehend why he’s feeling this way.
Feeling so helpless against these instincts that beg to see you, that want to talk to you, maybe even touch you if he ponders long enough. It’s strange, he’s never felt this way, so he’s curious enough to indulge in it. As long as it keeps his brain at peace.
After a few lunches, his needs grow more, and more, and more until all your time is spent on him. You don’t pick up on it until a coworker points out how close the two of you are now, it almost makes you forget how it used to be, weren’t you always like this with him?
“Can you come over today? I wanted to cook dinner with you again” He speaks with a muffled volume, mouth filled with too much food to speak clearly.
You nod, agreeing like always, this has become a usual thing, and you’re used to it. Even growing accustomed to sleeping over if you’re too tired to go home. Sometimes it almost seems like he purposefully makes bigger portions so you grow sleepy after your full and content.
“Good, I bought the ingredients for your favorite. Maybe we can pick up some ice cream on the way home as dessert” He smiles slightly, continuing to chew his food in silence after that.
Time passes rather quickly, at least for you, he’s a little confused on why you’re taking forever so he stops waiting at the elevator like he told you he would do, walking up to your cubicle he sees you chatting, talking with the same coworker who pushes you around.
“Awh cmon please? I’m trying to meet up with a girl tonight and if I do these papers then I’ll be late, and I can’t be late to a first date” He pleads, putting his hands together with the papers crinkling slightly between them.
“I don’t know.. I already have something planned and I can’t just cancel on them” You say hesitantly, debating whether if you should help him or not, again.
“I’m sure you can do these papers on your own, I’ve seen you do a stack in 20.” He approaches, glaring at the shared coworker, he’s always despised this guy.
“Ah- seriously, it’s an important date” He pleads again, ignoring him as if he hadn’t just spoke.
“And it’s a no, can you hear?”
“I wasn’t asking you”
“I’m not letting you throw work on another coworker just for you to have another failed date”
He scoffs, annoyed as he walks back to his cubicle, not willing to pick a fight over some papers, even though he would if it was anyone but him.
“Let’s go then? Are you done with everything?” Your friend says, mood switching with your other coworker gone. It seems like he could be intimidating one minute and be ecstatic about something the next.
You didn’t mind how he acted now, even if he was a little harsh to others and wouldn’t want you speaking to them as much as you do. It helps you out in most situations, like now and at the party.
“Yeah, let’s go..!”
You just can’t help but wonder if it’s something you should worry about.
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queenie-ofthe-void · 2 months
Text
“Led Zeppelin? Never heard of them,” Steve lies, like a liar. Of course he’s heard of them, thinks maybe Hop’s mentioned them before. Doesn’t really know the band well, and probably definitely couldn’t name a song. But the comment serves its purpose, and the trap is set.
Eddie calls it the Zep Campaign. Every day they’ll listen to one album, and Steve will pick his favorite song from each. Eight days for eight albums. On the last day, they’ll narrow it down to one song to rule them all– because apparently even Led Zeppelin likes the Mordor books Dustin doesn’t shut up about. 
Each day, Steve struggles to pick a favorite. Day four isn’t bad– doesn’t mind a song that is actually called Rock and Roll, which is just a lazy title in his opinion– but they’re only half way through and the songs are all starting to sound the same. An endless stream of too-fast guitar melodies and weird, wobbly sounds he’s sure he’s never heard before. The vocals are his favorite part, but the lyrics are vague and confusing.
Long story short, he’s not a fan.
But this growing thing between him and this ridiculous metalhead is new, fragile. So if it’s important to Eddie, it’s important to Steve. 
“Stevie, we really don’t have to keep doing this,” Eddie concedes. It’s day eight, the final album, and he thinks even Eddie might be desperate to listen to something different. “You’ve listened to every other album and honestly this one is the worst. They were all on drugs, and this isn’t even their sound ya know? Like it’s not even real metal.”
And honestly, Steve does know. He’s been listening to this band for eight days and yeah, all the songs sound the same. But these ones are different. Softer. He’s made it this far, and he’s nothing if not persistent for the people he loves.
Sprawled out on the floor next to the boy he likes, passing a fading joint back and forth, he thinks he can suffer a bit longer. 
“No Eds come on, we’re halfway through anyways. Just flip it over and we’ll smoke while we finish.” Eddie huffs a sigh, but Steve can see the slight uptick of his lips, reminding him of why he’s doing this. He flips the record and crawls back, presses himself flush up against Steve’s side.
The next song is long, too long to keep his attention. They burn down their joint and Steve leans heavily onto Eddie’s open chest. He gets lost staring at the vinyl art. A guy dressed in a fancy white suit sits alone in a dive bar, the only splash of color against a dull background. The bartender looks gruff, like the rest of the bar, making the man stand out even more. He wonders if that’s how he looks posted up at the Hideout during Eddie’s shows. Wonders if he looks just as out of place in Eddie’s life as this man does, even though he looks comfortable there too. 
Eddie shifts his arms around Steve, bringing him back to the present. The song has changed and Steve feels the slow melody wash over him.
“Wait,” Steve cries out, flailing up and out of Eddie’s arms as he registers the new song. It’s soft with a steady beat. It’s got synth-- the sound Eddie told him he likes in pop music. This song isn’t loud and chaotic like the rest. The voice is soothing and the lyrics are mostly simple enough. It’s different, and he can’t believe it but–
All of my love, all of my love
all of my love to you, oh
“This one. I like this song. Like actually like it.”
Eddie sits up and stares at him. He can see the dramatic shock and annoyance on Eddie’s face. But it’s doing nothing to hide his broad smile and shining eyes. 
“Steven. Stevie. Baby, sweetheart, this absolutely cannot be your favorite Zeppelin song. Out of all the songs on all the albums and all the hours of poetic melodies I’ve forced upon you, you choose the most non-Zep Zeppelin song.” Steve laughs sweetly as he watches Eddie fail to keep the glee out of his supposedly annoyed voice.
The cup is raised, the toast is made yet again
One voice is clear above the din
“This song isn’t even metall!" Eddie screeches. He rants and raves, waiving his arms as he regales Steve with all of the reasons he should absolutely not like this one particular song. He's shining with happiness, dial turned up to a hundred and it's all aimed at Steve. He can't help but to gaze back fondly, enraptured in the adorably obnoxious spectacle.
"It’s all synth, almost no guitar because Page didn’t even write this one! He wrote all of them except two songs, Stevie, and of course that’s the one you chose. No one who knows good music even likes this album. It’s not even metal music and honestly I almost didn’t show it to you, that’s how bad it is!” They're both giggling, leaning falling slowly into the other's space. Facing one another, their feet tangled together, Steve twists and pulls on Eddie's rings. Just to touch.
“Well, maybe that’s why I like it,” Steve snarks, taking his hand. “Plus it’s a love song.” Daring to reach out.
All of my love, all of my love, yes
All of my love to you
Eddie’s smile dims a bit, softens at the edges as he grows serious. “It’s not a love song Stevie, not like that.” He’s looking at Steve but he isn’t. Looking past him into the back of his thoughts. “The lead singer, he wrote it for his son. His kid died of some kind of bad illness while he was on tour. Didn’t make it back in time.”
He pauses, and Steve waits. Knows Eddie has more to say, hoping his patience will pay off. Eddie’s sight refocuses and he heaves a heavy sigh. His eyes glisten as they lock onto Steve.  
“My mom used to sing it all the time. While she was cooking, or putting me to bed, or pulling weeds in the garden. She’d sing it constantly. Hell, she didn’t even know all the words, but she’d still try and sing the interludes– ya know, the music between the lyrics.” He laughs lightly, a stray tear just barely hanging on. Steve tightens his grip around Eddie’s hands and presses a kiss to his knuckles. A silent sign of gentle support and encouragement. 
“Sounds like a love song to me,” Steve whispers. Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to his forehead and pulls Eddie into a tight hug. 
All of my love, all of my love, to you now
“A love song just for you, from both of us.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I've always headcanoned that Eddie loves Led Zeppelin, because he plays guitar and loves metal and reads Lord of the Rings so of course he would.
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hotluncheddie · 2 months
Text
Hug.
wc: 3.4k | rated: T | cw: meltdown, burnout | tags: autistic eddie munson, hurt/comfort, pre relationship, pining, hugging | ao3
.𖥔˚
Eddie Munson has a secret. 
He doesn’t know how to hug. 
Sure, he knows how in theory, and he has been hugged before, with mixed reactions. But it’s been a while. Been a long while actually. So long that embarrassingly, part of him, dreads the day he gets the urge to hug someone. Because he doesn’t think he’ll be able to do it right. 
With Wayne they’re in a routine of shoulder pats or a side on squeeze. If Eddie’s having a really bad time he can curl near him on the ratty sofa and likes to rest his forehead on his uncles shoulder, Wayne’s work worn hands coming up to ruffle his hair, let him be for a while. 
But they don’t really hug. Not for real. Not really. 
And Eddie doesn’t mind, is the thing. He doesn’t need that from his uncle. 
With the hellfire boys it’s always been nudges and poking and a friendly kind of wrestled, headlock, type thing. That’s the line, that’s the boundary. And Eddie’s okay with that too, they’re friends, they’re guys, they’re good people but Eddie just doesn’t think he can show that part of himself to them. The part that doesn’t know, the part that sort of wants more but is too afraid to ask. 
Sometimes the thought or actuality of someone touching him makes him kind of queasy. Makes him twist his rings and pull his hair. He doesn’t want it. Not always.
He knows his Nana used to hug him, before she passed away, and his Mom probably did too, he just can’t really remember. But that was normal, that’s what Moms and Nana’s do. But he doesn’t get that now. That type of hugging. 
Then Eddie meets Steve, meets Steve in the upside down. A different Steve than he’d known of in school. A slightly different Steve again once they’re all out, all healed and patched and the horrors hidden away. 
He meets that Steve. And Eddie, Eddie thinks he wants to hug him. 
He knows he’s being a little weird about it. Fluttering in and out of Steve’s space, never quite letting himself touch, never more than a brush of fingers or a nudge of his hip. Never staying still enough to let Steve make a move on what he wants. 
But then the choice is sort of made for the both of them. Pushed together by fate, maybe, if you believe in that. 
All Eddie believes in, all Eddie knows, is that Steve’s house is so fucking loud. 
‘The walls Stevie they’re so, so white. And your fridge! It’s just, loud and and weird.’ Eddie had said, already frustrated when Steve came to pick him up, even more so once they arrived. 
And once he was inside, it was like everything doubled, tripled. Steve’s house was unbearable tonight. 
But Steve had just laughed and Eddie knew he would, knew from the way he’d said it, all loud and over the top - added inflections, a good DM. But, the thing is, he mentioned it because he meant it, for real. It’s too fucking loud, thrumming under his skin. 
Eddie’s curled up on the couch, everyone else over now too for a movie night. They’re usually enjoyable, seeing the kids, Robin, Nancy. It’s nice. 
But tonight, tonight it’s turned up loud and people are talking and it’s not a scary film but it kind of is. 
He’s biting the skin of his cuticles just to feel something other than itchy and floaty and dizzy with discomfort. His heart is beating too fast and he can hear the blood rushing in his ears. overlapping with the films crashing and static and the rustling of snacks and the cars outside. 
His skin feels sweaty against his clothes, sticking to the sofa and ripping him apart. 
It’s loud and Eddie is scared. 
He mutters ‘bathroom’ and thinks Steve next to him probably heard, even with his head resting on Robins shoulder. Doesn’t stop to find out. Doesn’t really care. Just needs to get out. 
He walks quickly to the stairs and tries not to sprint up them, but takes them two at a time, breathing heavily though his nose. 
Eddie closes the door to Steve’s upstairs bathroom, tears prickling his eyes as he steps from one foot to the other, rocking. His hand migrate to his hair, gripping and pulling harshly. tug stop, pain ebb. 
But the noise still travels, it’s better than in would’ve been in the downstairs bathroom but Eddie shoves the heels of his palms against his ears. He’s panting now, vision blurring. Shoulders and neck tense. 
He pushes against his ears harder, wants nothing, wants quiet. Wants it to bite. 
Thing is, he used to love noise. Would seek it out, find it wherever he could. He’d push practice to run late and he’d hang out at the hideout after their set, just to feel that press of voices all around him. The hum of the amps alone used to fill him up something magic, set his bones alight. 
As a kid he used to crinkle paper by his ears, just to hear it crackle and rustle, like white noise static in his brain and skin. Used to beg Wayne to take him to the junkyard every weekend just so he could bang on the big old rusty metal with a stick. Hear the hum crash, bellow and die out. The different tones, the different dents and scrapes changing the sound. He used to spend hours scrabbling around, trying everything he could to make enough sound, make enough noise, to feel that feeling of everything being full and alive and awake and amazing. 
Now though, after. After those bats screams burrowed into him and made noice synonymous with fear and pain and blood red darkness. Now he’s scared of the stray cats that meow in the night, grates his teeth if someone drags him to the diner, the buzz of the fluorescents and scraping of plates making him want to scream. 
Noise used to be his safe space, now he can’t even be in a room full of his friends. Can't tonight, not like this. And see, he’s always been weird but now even that’s changed.
He doesn’t even recognise himself anymore. 
It’s that thought, that fear, that has Eddie dropping to a crouch, knees under his chin. He leans against the bathtub and tries to steady his breathing. But the tears are slipping out and he feel his lungs contract, he can’t breath, he can’t. 
He pushes his hand harder into his ears, the blood rushing. Rocks so his back hits the tub, thud, thud thud. Remembers how horrible those weeks in hospital were, the bed sheets and the beeping and the smell. It would’ve been horrid anyway but after those days full of fear, that adrenaline he’d gone through but not processed. It was unbearable. 
And he’s still not back, not recovered. He’s so tired. Everything’s so tiring. He can only manage to leave the trailer maybe once a week, when he’s dragged out, taken to something by Steve or Wayne or Dustin. (They try for more but Eddie thinks that might actually make him loose it.) He goes out and tries to act normal, tries to keep the people around him from leaving. Goes out but it all feels different. 
He misses the weight and smell of his leather jacket, his jeans from before and wallet chain he used to fiddle with. Misses who he was when he had those things, who he thought he could be.  
Otherwise he’s in his room, trying to feel better. Sleeping a lot, listening to the same album over and over, eating the same thing just because anything else would be too much. Press too hard on his rips. Be an extra boulder stacked onto his already cracking shoulders. 
Eddie doesn’t hear the door open and close quietly, doesn’t hear Steve’s socks pad over the bathroom rug. 
But he feels his body heat and smells his cologne. Eddie still gasping for breath, too afraid to open his eyes or move his hands from his ears. But he feels body heat, Steve’s here. Eddie feels him. 
His still ragged breaths stutter for a moment when he feels Steves large, warm palm settle between his shoulder blades. He flinches at the contact but Steve doesn’t move, just stays there, touching lightly, in that one place, grounding. Bringing Eddie back to his body slowly. His lungs filling up with a little more air each time he breaths. 
He swallows thickly, coming back to himself slightly, but still scared to open his eyes, deeper breaths bracketed by sobs and hiccups. He hates when people see him cry. 
Eventually he moves his hands so they’re just cupped over his ears, instead of pushed tightly against. He can just make out the soft rumbling of Steve’s voice, too quiet to be heard before but Eddie can understand him now. 
‘That’s it, deep breaths. just like me, okay?’ Steve takes a deep breath. ‘That’s it Ed’s, in for two, out for two.’ He breaths out through his mouth, hand rubbing soothing circles over Eddie’s shoulders. 
Eddie follows, breathing deeper, filling his body with oxygen again. Breathing along with Steve. 
Eventually Eddie moves his hands, sniffing again and scrubbing his cheeks with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. He crosses his arms on his knees and buries his head there. 
He takes another deep breath, finally finding the courage to open his eyes and peek over at Steve. 
He’s backlit by the moonlight shining through the frosted window, the only other light in the room is the orange strip across the bottom of the closed bathroom door. 
Eddie can still hear everyone downstairs, the rumble of the tv, but it doesn’t feel so bad now, doesn’t make his skin crawl so much. He’s not ready to got back out there though. Not yet. 
‘Hi.’ Steve says, smiling at Eddie like it’s another normal day and not one where he just helped Eddie though a full on meltdown in his parents bathroom. 
Eddie snorts. God. He’s so embarrassed.
Swallowing Eddie has to force the words out of his chest, would like to not say anything but Steve is here and Steve is smiling at him and the least Eddie can do is speak a little, as uncomfortable as it is. 
‘Sorry.’ He lands on, voice rough and quiet. 
‘No, none of that Ed’s yeah? Remember, party rules?’ And Steve speaks just as quietly as Eddie did, like he knows, knows how fragile Eddie is right now. Eddie grunts, tears bubbling a slipping out again. 
Party rules are that Steve won’t ask twice if someone needs to come over or call, any time of night. If you need a ride to a members house or just to fall asleep with him on the line, he’s there. Eddie can’t count the number of times he’s seen Steve drop Lucas at Max's trailer late at night, Steve watching until he gets inside. If it isn’t too late he’s started coming to check on Eddie too. Sometimes Eddie’s able to see him, engage with him. Sometimes it’s too much, being a person, even in front of Steve. He leaves Wayne to tell him eddies fine, or as fine as Eddie can be, at the moment. 
‘What can I do?’ Steve asks, bringing Eddie back to the present, to Steve’s bathroom floor. 
Eddie screws his eyes up. He, ugh. ‘I don’t know how to, do, what I want.’ Eddie says, nonessential. But he just. He wants. Wants to feel Steve, imagines that warmth, and grounding, wants more. Too much. 
Steve’s eyebrows furrow slightly, but his face still seems kind, like always. Steve’s always kind. ‘What do you want?’ He asks. 
Eddie looks at the floor, there’s a loose thread on the edge of the rug, he stares at it. ‘A hug.’ He mumbles, cheeks flaming. 
‘Oh.’ Steve breaths. And then, like it’s simple, like it’s nothing. ‘Okay.’ he says and Eddie glances at him. 
Steve shifts so his back is flat against the tub, legs out in front of him and arms open. Waiting. 
‘Take your time, any way you want it.’ Steve says. 
Eddie wipes his face again, shifts onto his knees without really thinking, drawn towards Steve like always. But he falters, hands raised but fingers clenching and unfurling. He twitches his head to the left and few times, almost uncontrollably, he does it again. ‘I, ah, um.’ He doesn’t. He doesn’t know how. 
Because this is different still, from Wayne, from his Nana, from friends. This is Steve. 
But Steve just sits, waiting, looking at Eddie. ‘Take your time. Any way you want Ed’s.’ Steve says again softly, imploring. 
Eddie blinks hard and couple times, tugs at his hair again, focus, focus. He shuffles forward and wraps his arms around Steve’s neck a little awkwardly. His back bending to lean far enough, not sure how hard to squeeze, afraid to be too close, touch too much. 
Eddie’s breathing picks up again, he doesn’t, cant, doesn’t know how. He pulls away, scrubbing at his face again. 
‘Can I?’ Steve starts, moving toward Eddie but stops, waiting for a reply. Eddie nods mutely, cheeks flaming. 
Steve moves closer, Eddie knees up against his thigh. He pulls on Eddies leg, getting him to move it over top of Steve’s. Until he’s essentially sitting in his lap. Eddies eyes are wide, Steve is so close, so warm. 
He keeps going, slowly, bringing Eddie’s chest to his slowly, wrapping Eddie’s arms around his torso and then wrapping his own around Eddie. One big warm palm leading Eddie’s head into the crook of Steve’s neck, where it’s dark, smells strongly of citrus and musk. 
Eddie’s tense, muscles locked tight, but then Steve shifts one more time, getting comfortable and squeezes Eddie once. The pressure, it unlocks something inside him. Steve breaths out, like he’s relaxing too, like this is nice for Steve too. 
‘S’okay Eddie, relax for me.’ Steve prompts quietly, arms squeezing again. Everything soft and quiet and warm. 
Eddie tips over the edge. 
He empties his lungs, slow and stuttering, in and out. Relaxes. Slumping down onto Steve and lets go. ‘Oh.’ It feels so good to be held, to be wrapped up like this. Steve’s arms hold firm around him, pulling them impossibly closer. 
Eddie whimpers, let’s go fully, drifts. 
He thinks he might honestly fall asleep, so exhausted from his meltdown, the emotion and sensory, twist and release. 
He comes too with Steve stroking a hand over his hair and down his back, repeating the long slow motion over and over, like Eddie is some overgrown cat. 
He breaths deep one last time, steals himself for the cold of letting go. Sits back on his heels, extracting himself from Steve’s neck and unfurling his grip of Steve’s waist. 
But Steve stops him getting too far. One hand on the back in eddies neck, one at his hip. It’s almost too much, makes Eddie think about more than friends, about skin on skin. About being held like this, only different. 
‘Sorry, um, thanks.’ He says, afraid to look Steve in the eye, staring at the collar of his polo instead, reaching up to fiddle with one of the little shiny buttons. 
Steve just squeezes Eddie’s neck, letting go to move around slightly now that Eddie’s whole weight isn’t on him anymore. ‘For someone who says they don’t know how to hug, that was pretty nice.’ Steve says once he’s settled, hands back on Eddie hips. 
That makes Eddie glance up, flick his eyes to Steve’s and back down. Just enough time to take in his soft smile and kind gaze, down tuned and sleepy. He looks relaxed, happy. 
Eddie’s heart clenches. But he just huffs, ‘yeah, sure.’ Only he can’t help smiling a little, half believing. Half believing the ridiculousness, That Steve would enjoy this too. 
But Steve reaches up and tucks some hair behind Eddie’s ear, so soft and caring. ‘Hey, I mean it. And if you ever want, ever need this again. I’m here.’ He says, voice still a whisper. 
Eddie feels tears prickle again, how could, how is Steve even real? ‘Careful Stevie.’ He jokes. ‘Say any more and you’ll never get rid of me.’ Eddie doesn’t to want to go, Eddie wants to stay right here forever. But he knows he can’t. Can’t do that. 
‘I mean it Ed’s, any time you want. How-however you want.’ And Steve looks up at him, cheeks pink in the moonlight and eyes wide. Like he’s said too much, like he’s scared too. 
Eddie wants to kiss him. 
Wants to bury his head back in Steve’s neck and never come out. Wants to slip his tongue past the seam of Steve’s lips and grind his hips down just to see what noises he’ll get. Wants to hear him and touch him and taste him all over. Wants to curl up in bed next to him and bring him over to have dinner with Wayne. Wants to share his food and listen to his heartbeat and let Steve in. Let him see more. More of Eddie. 
But not now. Not when there’s salt tracks in his face and phlegm in his throat. When he needs a glass of water and a, like, nine hour nap. ‘Kay.’ He settles on, voice wet but happy, he’s so happy, to have Steve now, even if it’s hard and he’s so tired and so scared. He has Steve. He has Wayne and his friends and he has Steve. ‘Thank you.’ Eddie whispers, feeling held by the dark bathroom. Space and time on pause. He feels brave, feels exposed and covered head to toe in all his past and all his present. Feels here, feels now. 
Eddie leans forward and places the softest of kisses on Steve’s cheek. The first he’s ever given, and how nice, that it’s Steve. How nice, to feel his warmth and hear his little intake of breath. 
Eddie blushes, scrubs at his cheeks again. Slipping off of Steve’s thighs to sit back next to him, shoulder to shoulder, on the little bathroom rug. 
‘Do you want to go back down? Or um, I can take you home?’ Steve asks, sounds unsure but his voice is soft, steady. Eddie bites his thumb, rubs his knuckles against his teeth. 
He doesn’t know what he wants. Wishes they could stay here forever. But there’s a room full of people and this is Steve’s house, he can’t just leave them, can’t just stay here, with Eddie, in his parents bathroom. 
‘I’ll uhm, I’ll just wait here a little longer, until the movie finishes. You go down, be a good host.’ And Eddie smiles, but he doesn’t feel it in his eyes, can’t face the light and noise again just yet, the questions or glances that might come his way. 
‘I’ll go check on them then, take some back and then you can go last. Or, or stay, if you, if you want.’ 
Eddie’s heart clenches again. He wants to, to stay. But he also wants his bed, familiar and inviting. Wants to smell Wayne in the air and have his tape on to fall asleep. Wants normal, after tonight. Needs it. 
But one day. When he feels better. When that spark he had sometimes comes back, the one that believed he could be a rockstar or a writer. That would dream up campaigns and have the energy to write them down. When that part of him comes back, when he’s not so tired. Then he’ll go to Steve, offer himself up, ask for more, ask to stay. 
But tonight he’s too close to breaking, too flayed open and rubbed pink. ‘A lift home later would be nice, just us?’ He asks, it’s so much, fills him up. It’s everything he wants, in this moment. 
Steve nods, bumping their knees together. 
He’s so good, Eddie marvels, for the hundredth time. 
‘Course. I’ll bring you some water.’ And Steve shifts to stand, using Eddie to help him up. It’s so nice, to be this close, a barrier broken, new rules to be made. 
‘You can wait in my room, if you want? It might be more comfortable.’ Steve says, hand on the doorknob. Eddie just nods, blushes, not even sure why. But Steve smiles, pretty and boyish and small.  
He slips out and turns off the light on the landing, the whole floor bathed in darkness. Eddie didn’t even ask, he didn’t even have to. He feels tears well again, laughing a little at it all. At the Steve of it all. 
He stays curled up on the bathroom rug a little longer, in the new quiet memory of Steve and warmth and darkness. Until he’s ready. Knows Steve will be waiting. 
.𖥔˚
Tag List (open) : @scoops-aboy86 @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @cheesedoctor @chickensinrainboots
also.. @spectrum-spectre @babydollbaron @flowercrowngods just bc :)
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targaryenluvs · 5 months
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ooh what about coryo x a plinth!reader, like sejanus’s younger sister who’s friendly but cautious. and though she accepts coryo into the family (since he was her brother’s “friend”) the way he just took his place begins to unsettle her until she finds out what happened but by then it’s too late and she can’t get rid of him
RUNAWAY
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pairings: dark!coriolanus snow x fem!plinth!reader
summary: you’d always considered coriolanus to be a friend of yours. family even. but after sejanus’s death you find him to be off. he’s keeping something from your family and you’ve run out of time to get as far away as you can.
warnings: mentioned murder/hanging, nc kissing, secrets, manipulation, lying, possessive, blackmail, forced marriage, implied sex
a/n: thank u for the requestsss!! i’ve had no inspo lately so thank y’all
he looked so different.
well not so, but to anyone else it was just a change of clothes and a hairstyle. but he truly had changed, in personality and looks. his face rarely smiled anymore, it being reserved for a small group.
what you didn’t know was that the group was just you.
your family has been quick to welcome him, sejanus’s loyal best friend. the one who’d been by his side, when it happened and before it. who helped him in the academy and as peacekeepers. you liked coriolanus a lot back then, he was always nice to you. bringing you a rose or a treat he’d managed to charm a naive baker into passing his way free of charge. you’d always seen him as a brother, his presents being an affectionate way of showing his liking of you. sejanus’s little sister. you were happy for sejanus, as most of the kids weren’t exactly welcoming. having an acquaintance, friend even, was good for him.
but if you’d known he had other intentions in mind for these years you would have ran for the hills.
coriolanus was on the fast track for success.
with the plinth fortune at his back he was for once providing what he wanted to for his family. presidency in the horizon, respect by his side and lucy gray in the past.
but there was something he wanted from the plinth family, even if he’d already taken their fortune and son. their daughter. before now, he was meek. he may have held himself high, fooled some and scared others with his smart self he’d never managed to get the one thing he wanted, you. but there was no way you could deny him now, right?
you didn’t know how it had happened but you weren’t miserable. you knew you’d have to marry one day so why not coriolanus? you thought to yourself as you fixed your wedding dress, you’d asked for time alone before you walked since- well you didn’t know why. you just wanted a second to breathe before the entire capitol came down on you with a million questions, pokes and prods.
you were in corio and yourselfs room. as you surveyed the room one last time as an unmarried woman you noticed something peeking out from his bed. you knew coriolanus liked to write, but you assumed it was all business related. god you wish your curiosity had kept itself in check.
your dress was wet in places. the tears were non-stop and you couldn’t breathe. just when you thought the tears and heavy breathing would die down you felt coriolanus’s hand on your bare shoulder, “you should have not read it.” his voice was stern, unwavering. you wanted nothing more than to kill him. “don’t be hysterical. get up. he’s gone and there is nothing you can do about it. i won’t allow you to ruin my image, get up.” you continued crying as he lifted you up, manoeuvring you like a doll. moulded for him.
he wiped away your tears as you buried your face in his neck and your nails in his biceps. you were holding on to him for dear life, you feared if he wasn’t there to ground you the floor would eat you.
“settle down, we have a wedding to finish.” you choked on god knows what, “do you honestly believe i’d marry you now? no! i’m telling everyone. and they’ll see what a disgusting monster you are. how dare you come to our family for reprieve and safety! use our money! stay in our home and smile at us knowing what you did?” you screamed as you ran towards the door, being met with a guard. he was large, burly and did not look like he cared about you. the tears down your face and he held no sympathy. “i pay him handsomely. he won’t help you, no one here will.” coriolanus walked over to the door and shut it as you walked backwards.
you had no clue what he would do to you, if he could have sejanus hung and then face his family everyday. charm you, love you, sleep with you and now marry?
“would you like to tell your mother? that someone she considers to be a son took her child from her? would she even believe you? or would she die of heartbreak before you could explain? what happens when i prove your lying? no one knows besides you and me. your word vs mine. a powerful business man, game maker of the hunger games, from old money and wealth. coriolanus snow, soon to be president and his dear wife. y/n plinth, a daughter of the plinths, new money with no history in the capitol and whom made money of off the war whilst others suffered. even if they did believe you, who would stop me from making sure they see their son again?”
checkmate.
you had no where to run to and your family on the line, so when coriolanus walked to you, fixed your hair and dress, you let him.
when your father walked you down the isle to the monster who destroyed your family, you let him.
when your mother cried tears of happiness for her daughters marriage, you let her.
when coriolanus kissed you passionately, hand dropping quite low as the crowd cheered for your love. you let them.
and when he carried you to your new bedroom, ripped your dress off and made his way down, you let him.
because you knew there was no way you’d allow him to touch your parents, hurt them. maybe they could get away from his poisoned thorns that dug so deeply. by the end of the night you’d been taken in so many ways you couldn’t move without irritating a bruise. and with coriolanus’s arm trapping you in his chest only one thought blared through your mind.
RUNAWAY!
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hazbinwhoree · 2 months
Note
Adam x f!reader
after a one night stand with Adam, around a month or two later she reveals she’s pregnant with his kid..
his reaction and maybe his life when the baby arrives him failing at changing a diaper
him falling asleep on the couch watching tv with his baby on his chest with a tiny spot of drool on his shirt 🥹
bonus
Lute holding the child and then the baby pukes on her
Father Adam
Adam and (Name) had been friends for a long time. Just friends. Until one drunken night, they can’t pretend anymore, and they hookup. The one night stand shakes their friendship, and they don’t talk nearly as much over the next two months.
That’s why Adam is so surprised when he opens his door to find (Name) in tears.
“(Name), what’s wrong?” “Can I come in? You should maybe sit down for this.”
Adam has absolutely no idea what (Name) is about to throw at him, letting her in and sitting next to her on his couch. (Name) pulls something out of her pocket and hands it to Adam. Adam felt the world stop. It was a pregnancy test. A positive pregnancy test.
He’s silent for a long minute before shakily asking, “You’re sure it’s mine?”
(Name) hits his arm. “Yes, I’m sure, you’re the only guy I’ve fucked in like a year.”
Adam is silent again, before snapping out of his daze and taking (Name)’s hands into his. “I… I love you.” The tension that had been between them since the one night stand was finally put into words.
Tears poured down her face as she threw her arms around Adam’s neck. Adam pulled her into his lap and (Name) buries her face in his neck. “I love you too.”
The nine months flew by, Adam and (Name) learning to live as a couple before they had to learn how to live as parents.
Luckily, years of friendship made it easy, and their relationship had very few bumps.
Adam was fast asleep when he was abruptly awoken by (Name) shaking him, telling him when he woke in a small, scared voice, “My water broke and I’m having contractions.”
19 hours later, their son was born. Adam, the egotistical bitch he is, insisted on naming their son Adam as well. (Name) allowed it, and they celebrated the arrival of Adam Jr.
They took him home a day later, and Adam basically went through the five stages of grief. He loves his kid and he’s proud to be a father of a child he actually wanted, but he realizes he has no idea how to be a dad, and is now worried he’s going to fuck up his son.
(Name) assures him he won’t fuck up their child and Adam finds himself believing her.
The first night, Adam sleeps straight through the baby crying. The second night, the same thing happened. The third night, (Name) shook him awake and grumbled “Your turn.”
Adam drowsily made his way to the nursery, and crying baby at three in the morning was now his least favorite thing. He sighed, picking his son up out of his crib and carrying him with him to the kitchen.
He bounced and shushed baby Adam while he prepared a bottle of milk. Thank god it was simple enough, all he had to do was heat it up. When he was done and bringing the bottle to his son’s lips, he immediately stopped crying and Adam sighed in relief.
Adam never woke up from the baby crying, he slept like a rock, but (Name) would wake him up and they took turns with the night feedings.
Once Adam half woke up to see (Name) breastfeeding their son in bed next to him. “Me next,” he murmured, before promptly passing back out.
The one thing Adam couldn’t seem to get a handle on was changing diapers. His son had peed on him twice. And something about baby poop smelled especially bad, and he gagged everytime he had to change a poop diaper.
He was such a baby about it that (Name) did most of the diaper changes.
Three months in, and (Name) had two favorite memories.
The first one was when she’d come home from the store to find Adam asleep on the couch, baby Adam asleep on his chest. Despite being knocked out, Adam still had a secure grip on the baby. They were both drooling. Like father like son.
The second was when Lute was holding baby Adam and finally getting comfortable holding a baby when he suddenly threw up on her shirt.
Adam thought it was hilarious. Lute did not.
Adam isn’t the world’s greatest dad by any means, but he’s trying his best.
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