#jesus my belly has grown so much

[weirdw00d]

I ended inadvertently wearing the same top in my past two recent fitness update clips and um. It really highlights just how I've gained in a years time 😳💚

Both clips are available on all of my sites, you can find out where in my pinned post :3

#enby feedee #fat belly #getting fatter on purpose #queer feedist #soft feedism #tummy kink #queer feedee #tummy #fatty getting fatter #jesus my belly has grown so much

[footiehoefics]

Another one?

Hi! The dad Mase fic won (ofc) so here it is! I promised i would post a fic before I left for trip so I doubt I will be able to post another one on the weekend but I will leave you with this one! :) I hope you enjoy it! TW:non, Angst/Fluff, 3.7k words. My last fic is here! and my masterlist here!

gif: @doinggreat

“I feel like Miles has grown so much since I last saw him” you heard Lauren say to you while she had your baby boy on her lap.

“I know, it’s been so long since we’ve seen you guys.” you told her, sad that it had been way too long for liking not seeing Lauren, Declan and their son Jude. “Jude also looks like a big boy now I can’t believe it.” Lauren smiled at you, placing Miles back on your lap. 

It had been a nice evening, you had made the drive down to London for 2 days to pick up some stuff from your old house. You wanted to stay a couple days to catch up with Lauren, Dec and some other friends as well. You felt like you hadn’t socialized with anyone ever since you moved to Manchester 3 months ago. 

You had been busy taking care of Miles, making sure you had everything you would need in the new house, unpacking everything and buying a bunch of stuff. Of course Mason had helped you, but when he was at training it was all you. You didn’t complain though. This was the life you had always wanted. Being a mother and having the love of your life as your husband. 

It wasn’t the best start for Mason and the team but he had you and he had Miles to comfort him. 

Miles was 2 years old and he was the best thing that has ever happened to both of you. In all honesty, he was not planned. You remember vividly how you found out you were pregnant. You were scared about having a child, about the whole pregnancy and especially about what Mason would say. Both of you were not married at the time so having children together was not something you saw in the near future. However, when you finally told him, Mason assured you he fully wanted this with you and no one else. 

He was so excited about being a dad. He would read books about fatherhood, he would talk to your bump every single night, before every game and after every game no matter if it was a bad game or a good game.  

It melted your heart, seeing him put so much effort and taking this very seriously, not just winging it. Besides the excitement and all the research he did, he also took amazing care of you. 

The pregnancy was hell, to put it lightly. The first couple of months felt almost the same as normal. The only thing you felt sometimes was fatigue and you felt like you got tired very easily.

 When your bump started showing more and you were further along, that’s when things started getting rough. Puking every morning, sometimes at the crack of dawn. Mason would have to hop in the shower with you because of the dizzy you got. Your emotions were all over the place. Swollen feet. Backache. You felt like every side effect you had read about, you had it. 

Mason hated seeing you unhappy some days because of your pregnancy. It was supposed to be one of the most beautiful experiences in your life and it was the complete opposite. Every day you could not wait to pop that baby out and he knew that. 

When he had away games, that is when he felt helpless and felt awful for leaving you. You also hated it. You missed him but you also needed him. What if you got so dizzy you fainted in the shower? What if you can’t put your shoes on because the huge belly was on the way? What if you couldn’t roll over the bed to go throw up or pee at night? 

There were a lot of things he helped you with and when he was away it scared you. Luckily his mom would visit him frequently and help a lot. You were lucky your friends also didn’t live far away, you could count on them if you need to. 

“Is this handsome boy getting a sibling any time soon?” Lauren cooed at Miles and smirked at you. 

“Jesus” you laughed at her comment. 

Having another baby was definitely not on your list after your pregnancy. The thought of going through nine months of hell again, scared the shit out of you. Especially now with a 2 year old. 

“Declan and I are already trying for the second one.” Lauren spoke up again, smiling. 

“Trying for what?” you heard your husband say, approaching you, Lauren and the babies in the living room. 

“Another baby of course.” Lauren said, looking at him. 

“Oh wow, you just openly say you and Declan are having sex all the time?” Mason responded, making you roll your eyes and laugh. 

“Oh my god, don’t be rude in front of the kids.” Lauren replied, laughing along with you. 

“Anyways enough about my sexual life with Dec when are you two having another cutie like this?” Lauren said, pinching Miles' cheek. 

“Wow why are we talking about our sex life?” Declan said right after Lauren. 

Lauren’s question made you uncomfortable. You had not talked about this with Mason. You knew he wanted more than one kid, and he knew you wanted more than one kid too. However, after being pregnant with Miles that changed a little, and you never mentioned it to your husband. 

“It’s not about sex, I’m asking when they are planning on giving Miles a little baby sister or brother.” Lauren replied, taking the tea Declan had just made her. 

“We need to start soon, I don’t want them to have a big age gape.” Mason said, as if it was the obvious answer. 

You were still silent, not wanting to say anything yet. This conversation had to be between you and Mason. 

“Yea, that’s why Lauren and I started trying a couple months ago.” Declain told you, laying back on the couch so he could get comfortable with his son. 

Mason placed his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer to him. “We can start trying tonight…” he whispered in your ear so only you could hear his comment. You smiled a little, but not convincingly, and Mason caught that. 

“Babe, you know what I heard is not good to eat when you're pregnant? Papaya, I read it today.” Lauren said to you. “We don’t have to eat it when we get pregnant again.” You didn’t like how everyone was just assuming you were going to get pregnant again. If someone were to ask you right now, you would immediately reject it. 

“Well that’s if we have another baby…” you said whispering the last part. “You don’t want Miles to have a sibling?” Lauren asked.

“I mean, no…I um-” you got uncomfortable again. You didn't want this to turn into a discussion with Mason right and you could see from the corner of your eye he had a confused look on his face. “I just I’m not thinking about that right now you know?” you finally replied. Lauren noticed you got uncomfortable so she changed the subject. 

Mason removed his arm from your shoulders and headed to the kitchen to grab a drink. He was confused, he thought you always wanted more than one kid. Why would you change your mind now? The thought of you not wanting more kids was eating his mind up for the rest of the night. He was not as talkative and cheerful as he was 30 minutes ago. 

Once it got a bit late and Miles was on the verge of falling asleep, you decided to go back to the hotel you were staying. The drive wasn’t long but the entirety of it was silent. 

It was awkward between you both and there was tension. You didn’t know how to start that conversation but you knew you had to. You were also staying at a hotel, it wasn’t like you could just avoid each other. Miles had his little bed in the suite and then it was your space, that was it. If the conversation ended up being an argument, you could not just leave to the guest room and sleep there or cool off downstairs in the kitchen. 

You got back and noticed Miles was already asleep in his car seat. You carefully grabbed him out of the car and carried him to your room while Mason grabbed your purse and Miles’ bag. 

Once you got to your suite, you carefully placed Miles on his bed, making sure there were enough pillows around him and gave him a little kiss on his forehead. 

Still radio silence between you and your husband. You turned on the lamp beside your baby’s bed and headed towards the bathroom. You started by taking your clothes off, putting your pj’s on and then doing your skincare routine. Once you were applying your last product, you saw from the corner of your eye Mason entering the bathroom. You couldn’t read his face. 

He came up to you, hugging you from behind. You melted at his touch. You both hated being at odds with one another and giving each other the silent treatment. 

“Can we talk?” Mase whispered in your ear. You nodded your head and turned around to face him. 

“I’m sorry it was awkward today, I just didn’t know what to say…” you replied looking at him. 

“It’s not your fault babe…” he told you. “I’m just confused, I mean I thought having another baby was in the cards for us and that we were on the same page.” 

“Mason” you sighed, closing your eyes, dreading to tell him how you really felt about it. 

“Have you changed your mind?” he asked you, again confused. 

“I mean, I don’t know, maybe? Being pregnant was really hard, it wasn’t like what i thought it would be and what people told me it would be like. I don’t know if I want to go through that again.” you said, with a sad expression on your face. 

“Baby, pregnancy was never gonna be easy…and I will be there for you again, like I was with Miles.” 

You understood his point, but it bothered you that he didn't get yours.

“I know Mase but, it’s also just not the right time. We just moved to Manchester and Miles is getting bigger by the second. It was kind of easy to cope the first time because he was our first child. But what about now? I can’t just decide to nap in the middle of the day if I get dizzy, I have Miles.” you explained to him. 

“My mom can drive up for a couple of days each month-” he tried saying before you cut him off. 

“Mason, stop. We can’t have your mom driving every couple of days just to help me.” you said getting irritated he was not getting your point. 

He let go of your waist and stepped back a little, noticing your change in mood. 

“I'm trying to offer solutions Y/n.” he replied more sternly. “We had always said we wanted a big family, we promised each other that-” 

“Yea but people change their minds okay?!” you said, raising your voice a bit more.

Mason walked towards the bathroom door to shut it. He didn’t want your argument to wake up Miles. 

“We both grew up with siblings and we both know how much we needed them and how much fun it was, we really won’t give that life to Miles?” he asked you, with more frustration in his voice. 

He was right. Your siblings meant the world to you. You always dreamed of creating that little family and your kids having the same dynamic you had with your siblings. 

“Do you think I’m so selfish that I don’t want to give that life to him? Of course I want to, but I don’t know if I can go through that again, do you understand? You weren’t passing out in the shower, you weren’t getting crazy mood swings, you weren’t throwing up everyday, you didn’t feel tired all day, you weren’t carrying a 7lbs baby in your tummy.” you replied more annoyed. 

“Yea, but I was there in the shower with you, I was giving you back rubs and belly rubs, I was holding your hair up and getting you all the medicines you needed for your dizziness and nausea, I was making sure you were okay every single second of the day. Don’t you dare make this as if it was only you. I understand my body is not the one that changes, but I was part of it too. I was there helping you through everything and I want to do it again because you are my wife and the mother of my son and I love you more than anything.” he said, almost without taking a break to breathe. 

You never liked when he snapped at you, it was rare. You felt awful for now for making him feel like he wasn’t a part of it. He was the best help you could’ve asked for. The best daddy and partner. He made you feel like the sexiest woman ever when you were pregnant even though you felt like you were a whale. 

“I am trying here okay? We can go to the doctors and ask what to do so you don’t go through the same things next time, we can hire someone to help us around with Miles, Anouska and Luke are our neighbors they can help, there are so many ways we can go about this but you have this tunnel vision in your head that it will be the worst experience of your life. I want to make it easy for you, but you just won’t let me.” 

Mason hated raising his voice at you but he wanted you to understand how he could help this time and other people could too. 

It made you tear up a bit. You didn’t want to upset him. He opened the bathroom door to go back to the suite, leaving you with a lump on your throat and teary eyes. 

You dried the tears on your face and went back to the suite. All the lights were off except Miles' little lamp he had to have beside his bed because he was scared of the dark. 

Mason was already laying down on the bed not facing your side. You hated sleeping like this. Not being cuddled up to him. He was pissed and you respected it by giving him his space. 

—-

Did you sleep well last night? Absolutely not. Miles woke up twice, and you felt nauseous the whole night. You didn’t know if it was that feeling of guilt or hurt from your argument with Mason or if it was actually nausea. 

When you opened your eyes, you could see the sun peeking through the curtains. Mason was still not facing you. 

You suddenly felt the urge to throw up. You got up from bed quickly and ran to the bathroom. Your footsteps woke up Mason, making him turn around and see you were not by his side anymore. 

He was confused, but then he heard you in the bathrooms and knew you were sick. 

He got up quickly and rushed to the bathroom to help you. He didn’t care about last night, you were his wife and he needed to help you and make sure you were okay. 

“You okay baby?” your husband asked you, kneeling down and holding up your hair.

“I’m fine, I don't know why I got nauseous.” you replied.

You flushed the toilet and stood up to brush your teeth. Mason still had a concerned look on his face and didn't leave the bathroom until he knew you were 100% okay.  

“I’m okay Mase, I promise.” you told him, turning around to look at him. 

Even though you were not on good terms, he leaned in and kissed your cheek. 

“I’ll shower so we can get going.” he said to you.

You opened up the curtains and woke your baby up to get him ready for the road trip ahead. 

—-

The whole drive back to Manchester was not as awkward as yesterday, but there wasn’t much conversation between you and Mason. 

You used it to think about everything. You felt like you were overthinking but, after connecting the dots, feeling nauseous, throwing up in the morning, your period was supposed to come in today, you started thinking you might be pregnant. 

You and Mason weren’t exactly avoiding pregnancy. You weren’t on birth control and sometimes you didn’t use a condom. Of course there was a possibility of you being pregnant. 

—-

“Can you pull over here please?” you asked your husband.

“You okay? Do you need to throw up?” he was concerned now. 

“No, no I just need to pee and I’ll get something for Miles.” 

Mason pulled over and you got out of the car, making sure you took your purse with you as well. 

You did need to pee but you wanted to also buy a pregnancy test. The thought and curiosity you had was eating you alive you just wanted to know. 

You bought what you needed, bought Miles a little snack and headed back to the car. 

You were already only 20 minutes away from your home so soon enough you would find out. 

—-

You got back to your house safe and sound. Miles was awake by the time you got there so it was perfect timing. 

You got him out the car seat, brought him inside the house and placed him on his play set in the living room to keep him entertained while you and Mason unpacked everything else from his car. 

It was still very weird between you two. It felt weird not talking to him and joking around. 

Once everything was unpacked, he closed the door and followed you to the living room where your son was. 

“Can we stop doing this?” Mason said out loud, making your head turn to him. 

“Stop what…?” you asked back

“Not talking to each other? Ignoring each other?”

You paused for a minute, thinking of what to say to him. You felt his stare. 

“I think I’m pregnant…” you mumbled. 

“What?” Mason asked, he clearly did not hear you since you said it almost just to yourself. 

“I think I’m pregnant.” you replied, this time looking up at him. 

He knelt down to the ground so you were face to face. You were sitting on the couch with your hand on your lap. 

“Are you serious? Or is this just a joke?” he was confused.

“I’m serious, I really think I am” you said with a concerned look on your face. 

He was just looking at you, taking in what you said. What if after last night something changed for him as well? 

You started tearing up a bit. 

“That’s why I asked you to pull over, to buy this,” you told him, pulling out the pregnancy test out of your purse. “I didn’t know what you would think after last night.” tear spilling from your eyes. 

“Come here baby.” he grabbed your hand and placed them over his shoulders so he could hug you. 

You hugged him back tightly, tears still falling and gentle sobs coming out of your mouth. 

“I’m sorry Mase,” you sniffed and pulled back from the hug to look at him and apologize. “I’m sorry for making you feel like you weren’t a part of it, and I’m sorry for upsetting you.” he was looking at you with a sad face. He didn’t want you to feel like shit because of an argument. 

“I don’t want to disappoint you, I’m scared of having another baby. I promise you having our little family is the most important thing to me, I just felt overwhelmed, I don’t want it to go the way it did before.” 

He grabbed your face with his hands, wiping the tears with his fingers. 

“You will never disappoint me, my love.” he told you looking into your eyes.

“It’s okay to be scared babe, I’m scared too.” he said, chuckling a bit making you smile lightly. 

“If you are pregnant, we go through it together yea? We are a team and I will be here for anything that you need okay?” 

You nodded your head. He leaned in and kissed you. 

“I’m sorry too about yesterday, I don’t like arguing with you.” he told you once he broke the kiss. 

“I know.” you whispered and kissed him again. 

“You should take the test…” Mason suggested. You nodded your head and headed to the powder room near the living room. Mason stayed with Miles, watching over him and waiting anxiously for the result. 

You came out of the bathroom with the test covered. “Okay we have to wait 5 minutes.” you told him, sitting down again on the sofa. 

Mason sat down next to you, pulling towards him so you were cuddled up. 

It was 5 minutes of silence. The only thing you could hear was Mason’s heart beat and Miles playing with his toys. 

Your timer went off and you immediately got off Mason. 

You uncovered the test, “PREGNANT” it read. 

You smiled with tears in your eyes and turned around to look at Mason. By the look on your face he knew it was positive. 

He pulled you back and hugged you tighter than he ever had before.

“We are having another baby” he said to you. 

“Yes we are.” 

You were still hugging, both with tears on your faces. 

Once you pulled apart, you saw miles just staring at you both making you laugh. 

“Look mate,” he told him while holding up the pregnancy test “mommy’s pregnant.” 

“Baby?” Miles mumbled 

“Yes!” you chuckled. “Here in my belly” you told him, touching your belly. Miles wobbled towards you and touched your belly smiling. “Baby” he repeated, making your heart melt. 

You looked over at Mason. He was crying. He had his whole life infront of him. 

He leaned in and kissed you while Miles was hugging your belly. “I love you, more than anything” he said to you in between the kiss.

“I love you more.”

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount fan fiction #mason mount angst #mason mount fluff

[funnylittlelad]

Trailer Park Blues - Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader

Thank you for 100 followers! :)

Read on AO3

summary: You don't think much when you start letting Hellfire use your trailer for their meetings. Dustin asked and you caved, as per usual. What you weren't expecting was the rollercoaster ride that becomes your relationship with your little brother's best friend, Eddie Munson.

wordcount: 15.8k

tags/notes: SMUT (MDNI), gn!reader (nonbinary coded if you squint), reader is Dustin's older sibling, name-calling, degradation, hate fucking i'm ngl it's hate fucking, unprotected sex, power play, mentions of bad past relationships, queer eddie munson, talks about dead parents being dead

You might kill Dustin. The windows of your trailer are illuminated. He told you they’d all be gone by the time you got home from work. As you get closer to the door and hear the excited shouts you know that they’re all still here. You’re tired, you smell, and the last thing you want to do is look at a bunch of high schoolers playing some table top bullshit. 

“Dustin,” you shout as you swing the front door open.

 Everyone at the dining table jumps and snaps to look at you. When you enter your trailer you’re immediately met with a view of the living room to your right and the small kitchen to your left. Your table is in the middle, creating a makeshift dining area turned D&D area. 

The normal crew is there, Mike, Lucas, and Will. There are some new, and semi-new faces. The semi-new face is one you’ve seen, but never spoken to. Eddie Munson, four trailers down, and originally part of your graduating class. 

“Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of us!” Dustin exclaims, holding his heaving chest.

“You’re not supposed to be here for me to scare the shit out of,” you remind him, the annoyance evident. 

“I know, I’m sorry. We’re almost done, I promise. Can we please just finish?” he pleads with big eyes and a quivering lip. 

This fucking kid knows he has everyone in his life around his damn finger. You’d like to smack him.

“Fine, but you’re explaining to mom why you're not home yet,” you point at him as you speak. 

His face breaks into a smile. 

“You’re the best!”

“Call, now,” you order.

 When Dustin goes to the phone on the wall next to your fridge, you exit to the short hall. The company isn't going to stop you from showering. Eddie is frozen. His eyes follow you as you leave the room, mouth parted slightly. You barged in a little angry and it knocked him through a loop. His poor little bisexual heart felt ready to explode. You must get more shit than he does looking like that. Doesn't matter that you’re stunning, being the picture of androgyny in Hawkins can't be easy. He wants so badly to examine that picture up close and in detail. Dustin was right about one thing. Jesus Christ.

When the kid told Eddie they could use his sibling’s trailer Eddie was surprised to find he lived so close to a Henderson without realizing. Now, he really can't believe it. 

“Okay, let’s finish before I get my ass kicked,” Dustin says as he comes back to the table. 

Eddie snaps out of the trance he fell into.

“Uh-we can call it here,” Eddie says, sounding far away.

 The rest of the table balks at him.

“You’re calling the campaign early?” Dustin questions.

“When I asked if we could cut last week's campaign short you said you would strangle me with your bare hands,” Mike adds in disbelief. 

“We’re in the middle of a fight,” Will protests. 

The rest of the table starts voicing their own arguments creating a cacophony of disgruntled nerds. 

“Okay, okay,” Eddie gets loud to quiet down the table, “Dustin’s next in initiative.” 

The boys cheer triumphantly causing Eddie to smile. If his eyes keep darting to where you disappeared down the hall… Well, that’s his business. Your trailer is close to his in layout, but it’s much more well-kempt and put together. Makes sense since you live here alone and two grown men live in Eddie’s. 

When you reappear, toweling off your hair, they’re wrapping up. Your sweatpants that sit just below your belly button and short cropped shirt don't go unnoticed by Eddie. His eyes glide over your midriff and the soft dark hair that it's home to. It seems no matter what you’re in you remain more androgynous than Boy George.

 A trait that absolutely entices the queer disaster that is Eddie Munson. Dustin only ever uses sibling to talk about you. He doesn't use any language that would give any more away than your appearance does. It doesn't matter anyways, Eddie is infatuated regardless. Maybe even partially because of. 

The boys all throw you a goodbye as they exit until only Dustin and Eddie are left. Dustin is cleaning up any dishes or garbage left behind while Eddie packs up all the D&D materials. You didn't realize how much goes into this table top bullshit. Eddie has books, binders, and notebooks worth of information and ideas. There's stats and prices of various items on the screen he puts up so no one can peek at his notes. Then there's the velvet drawstring bag of different shaped dice. Shapes you’ve never even seen dice come in before. 

“How long were you guys playing for?” you ask the two of them from where you lean against the counter. 

You don't know what time they got started, just that they were supposed to be gone when you got home.

“Six hours,” Dustin says sheepishly.

“Six hours?” 

“It took longer than expected,” he shrugs with an apologetic smile.

You chuckle and shake your head. Your eyes flicker over to Eddie, catching him staring at you with wide dark eyes. Once your gaze meets his he looks down and hurries to finish packing up. You choose to disregard it. Eddie Munson can eat dirt if he thinks he's in any position to judge you. If only you knew he wasn't judging you, he was admiring you.

“It’s getting late. Do you want to just spend the night? I don't like the idea of you biking home when it's this dark out,” you say to Dustin softly. 

You don't have a car of your own to drive him. Since everything that happened with Will… Yeah, he’s definitely not biking home alone at night. 

“I can bring him,” Eddie offers as he zips up his bag.

“You can bring him?” You question thinking about the death trap of a van you’ve seen him drive. 

Somehow, that feels even worse. 

“Yeah, I can bring him,” he repeats and finally meets your eyes again.

 He sees the distrust, the anxiety. It hits him in the gut. 

“That’s okay, he can just spend the night,” you refuse him politely. 

“How d’you think he got here in the first place?” Eddie asks with raised eyebrows and an amused smile.

 Your nostrils flare a little at the smugness.

“Then I should consider myself lucky he’s still in one piece,” you shoot back. 

Eddie dramatically grabs his stomach and doubles over with a grunt as if he has just been punched.

“You hurt me, Henderson,” he huffs as he looks up at you from his bent state. 

A smile grows on his face when he sees you fighting off your own. 

“Hello, I’m right here, y’know,” Dustin looks between the two of you exasperatedly, “I can go with Eddie.”

“Dust-”

“I can go with Eddie,” he cuts you off to repeat himself. 

You exhale sharply through your nose. The two of you glare at each other for a moment. You still lean against the counter while Dustin stands beside the table. Eddie watches from where he stands on the opposite side of the table. Then your smoldering gaze turns to Eddie, stopping his breathing.

“Do the speed limit,” your voice is even, but so stern that all Eddie can do is nod. 

He swallows the lump that forms in his throat as a result.

“Cross my heart,” he uses his pointer finger to draw an X over his heart. 

Dustin hugs you goodbye. You make him promise to call tomorrow. Eddie gives you one last wide eyed look, a small smile plays on his lips. Then you’re finally alone. You love having Dustin over, but you’re also glad to have peace and quiet. 

You moved out a few short months after graduation. Your overbearing mother proved too much to continue living with. Dustin was pissed at first. He came around when he realized it meant having a space to escape to and be himself. Something you're more than happy to provide for him. 

He was thrilled to learn that Eddie lives only four trailers away from you. When Dustin asked if Hellfire could meet at your place to continue a campaign they had started you agreed for this one time. Even when you said it, you had a feeling Dustin will end up begging for 

more and you’ll end up caving. The kid really does have everyone wrapped around his finger. Eddie included it seems.

“So, are they always so…,” Eddie struggles to finish his question as he drives through Hawkins. 

Hot, breathtaking, pulse pounding, awestriking. He can't really say any of that to Dustin. 

“Protective?” Dustin offers.

“Protective works,” Eddie nods. 

Not exactly what he was thinking, but that applies too.

“Pretty much.” 

“How long have they lived in Forest Hills?” He tries to keep his tone casual, but ends up sounding just a little too interested. 

He can feel Dustin’s eyes burning into the side of his head. 

“Year and a half,” Dustin answers.

“So they're… nineteen?”

“Twenty.” 

Eddie glances over at Dustin. He looks one part irritated and two parts suspicious. Eddie adjusts his grip on the steering wheel. 

“Wait, we were in the same grade?” Eddie asks, surprised.

“You were supposed to be,” Dustin ribs. 

“You wanna walk from here, Henderson?”

“You wanna get murdered?” 

Eddie shoots him a glare knowing he’s right. His threat is hollow with you around. If you found out he let Dustin walk halfway home he’s sure he wouldn't see morning. 

“Why are you asking?” Dustin inquired after a moment of silence. Eddie shrugs.

“Just curious.”

“Uh-huh,” Dustin sounds entirely unconvinced.

“Whatever,” Eddie mutters to himself. He pushes you out of his mind and focuses on driving. 

He can feel Dustin’s occasional glances. The younger Henderson has clocked his strange demeanor, he knows it. It’s not hard. He isn't as goofy or teasing. He’s more lost in thought than he'd like. He just doesn't know how he's never noticed you before. How has he never noticed the one person in Hawkins that seems to tick every single fucking box he could possibly have? 

***

The next time Eddie sees you it’s raining. The weather is only noteable because he sees you walking home with no umbrella. He catches you as you make it under the awning of the movie theater. It gives you temporary shelter from the pounding of the rain. Eddie pulls over to the curb in front of you. He had been going to the store to grab some munchies, but that’s something he can do later. 

You eye his van curiously. He doesn’t bother with his hazards. Cars go around him without issue. He leans over and cranks the window down.

“You need a ride?” he calls out.

“I’m good, thanks,” you call back.

“Seriously? You’ll catch your death walking all the way to Forest Hills in this. Just get in.”

You sigh, but do as he says. It's not like you want to walk in the rain. Keeping a distance from Eddie just felt like the right thing to do. He gives you a feeling in your gut you can't quite place. He always has. Is it possible to admire someone and not like them?

“Thanks,” you say as you close the door. 

You’re shivering as you drip on his seat.

“Yeah, no problem,” Eddie says as he blasts the heat. 

His typically loud music is soft as he drives. Something you appreciate. Work was a headache. Having to walk home in the rain was a pain in the ass. A pain in the ass Eddie has luckily saved you from.

“Where d’you work, anyways?” he asks after a few minutes.

“I’m a manager over at the general store.”

“Shit, really? I steal-I mean I-uh go there all the time,” Eddie doesn’t course correct quite fast enough. 

To his surprise, you laugh. It’s a nice sound. Calming like the rain is when you aren't stranded in it.

“I’ll remember that next time I see you in there.”

There’s a comfortable silence after that. Eddie is actually a better driver than you assumed. It makes you feel a little better about Dustin driving around with him. You don't even notice you've stopped shivering. The van is warming you up, but you’re still soaked. 

“Sorry about your seats, by the way,” you say.

“Eh, it’s just some water. These seats have seen worse,” he shrugs.

You grimace in disgust.

“Like what?” 

Eddie lets out a hearty laugh.

“Probably better you don’t know.”

“Jesus, you’re nasty, Munson,” your laughter betrays you. 

“Oh, you have no idea, Henderson.”

Another round of comfortable silence as Forest Hills comes into view. You expect Eddie to park at his trailer. You don't mind walking the short distance to your own. Instead he pulls right up to your door. 

“Seriously thank you, Eddie,” you give him a smile.

“Don’t worry about it. If- y'know, if you need a ride again you can give me a call.”

“Sounds like you’re just looking for an excuse to give me your phone number,” you tease.

Eddie chuckles.

“Two birds, one stone,” he smiles.

“You’ll need to try harder than that, Munson. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” You flash him a smile and then you’re gone.

Only the wet imprint of your ass lets him know you were ever really there in the first place.

***

“Please,” Dustin pleads over the phone. You sigh.

“Dustin, it’s my day off. I don't want to sit here and listen to you guys for six hours,” you tell him.

“We’ll only be an hour, two tops.”

“Dustin-”

“I can stay over after and we can hang out. We’ll watch E.T.,” he sweetens the pot. 

He knows that's your favorite movie and he knows you’re a sucker for quality time with him. Little asshole.

“Fine, but you only get two hours before I kick everyone out.”

“Three?”

“Two and a half.”

“Thank you, you're the best, bye!” he hangs up before you have a chance to change your mind. You chuckle and shake your head.

Two and a half hours stuck in your room isn't too bad. Besides, you’re not really stuck. You just don't want to get in the way, or listen on in utter confusion. You know a little about D&D from Dustin talking about it, but not enough to follow. Sure you’ll pop out to grab a drink, maybe something to eat, but overall you intend to stay removed. 

Part of you wants to stay away from Eddie. You know he’ll just start flirting and you'll be too weak to stop it. Too weak to resist giving it right back to him. It shouldn't surprise you when Eddie is the first to show an hour later, but it does. He gives a quick rhythmic knock on your door. 

“I'm surprised you made it so early. I know the commute is killer,” you quip when you see him standing outside the screen door. 

With a grin, Eddie braces his lower back beneath his old bookbag and leans into his hands a bit to dramatize discomfort.

“Yeah, my back is killing me from the long drive over,” he makes a face as he jokes to drive it home. 

You chuckle and push the screen door open to let him in.

“Dustin isn't here yet,” you tell him as he enters.

 He pauses just inside the doorway leaving him so close to you his body heat reaches the skin of your arms.

“I can come back,” he says and begins to turn.

“No, it's alright. He should be here soon. I’m assuming you need to get set up or something?” you tilt your head toward the cleared off dining table. He nods and you hold your arm out to tell him he’s welcome to continue inside. 

You watch him make his way to the table. Something about the way he’s joking back with you makes you wonder if you had things wrong. Maybe he wasn't flirting in the van the other day. Maybe it was just friendly banter. 

“Thanks for letting us play here. We usually use the drama room, but they’ve needed it more with that stupid musical coming up,” Eddie says as he opens his bag and begins to pull things out.

“Let me guess, Grease?” you shut the door and find your place on the couch.

 Eddie glances at you with an amused smirk.

“Sure is.”

“Figures. Thank God Dustin isn't a theater kid. I don't think I could sit through that every year,” you chuckle.

 Eddie’s smile is curious, maybe even a bit nervous. You're watching him and it makes his movements just a little less sure. 

“Instead you get a bunch'a freaks playing D&D at your table.”

“You calling my brother a freak, Munson?” There’s an edge to your words. 

Eddie’s eyes get wide.

“Uh- no, I-”

“I’m just kidding, calm down,” you laugh, “it’s okay, he is a freak. Besides, I don't think you’d ever be mean to Dustin.”

“Why’s that?”

“He worships the ground you walk on. If you were ever mean to him your uncle would need to pull dental records to identify you,” you say it light heartedly with a smile.

 Your voice and expression don't match the vicious threat. Eddie’s heart thumps hard as he spreads out the battle map.

“You’re a little scary, y’know that?”

“How else am I supposed to keep you in line?” 

Heat crawls up Eddie’s neck. His throat dries and he clumsily knocks into his DM screen. It clatters flat onto the table. You watch on in amusement as he fumbles with it. He’s flustered. A fact that goes straight to your ego. Eddie is Dustin’s friend so you had no plans to actually be mean or rude to him. Admittedly, your brother is pretty good at picking people. Even if others don't see what he does in those people. 

Is flustering Eddie by accident mean or rude? Is continuing to do it because you like that you can? 

“How is it I’ve never seen you around before?” Eddie asks once the DM screen is back up the way he wants it. 

“You have, you just never noticed,” you shrug.

“Trust me, I would have noticed you,” he glances at you as he says it. 

When he sees your attention is already on him, he quickly moves on to digging out the miniatures he brought. 

“Trust me, you wouldn't have. I haven't always been this comfortable dressing and existing how I want. Not everyone can be Eddie Munson,” you give him a small smile.

“What's that supposed to mean?” he pauses setting up to look at you. 

He half expects insults to start being hurled at him.

“You’ve always been yourself. Even when it would be easier to be someone else. I’ve always admired that about you. It took me a long time to be that brave,” you answer genuinely. 

His face reddens and his eyes nearly strike you down where you sit. They’re big, as always, and the distinct brown of them swims in an emotion you can't place. Eddie’s heart is in his throat. He knows he’s attracted to you physically, but you might have just sunk a hook in him emotionally. Whether you meant to or not, you nearly destroyed him with your words. He can't remember the last time someone has said such nice things to his face. 

“Always, huh? You been watching me, Henderson?” he bounces back, diffusing his own feelings with the joke. 

You shrug with an innocent smile.

“You make it hard not to.”

Eddie’s face somehow gets even hotter. He might need to peel off his jacket if this keeps up. As he struggles to come up with a response to that, Dustin bursts in. The large smile on his face drops when he sees the flustered state of Eddie. His eyes travel back and forth between the two of you.

“What’s happening?” he asks

“Just getting to know your friend,” you shrug casually. 

Traces of that smile can still be found on your face. That's when Eddie knows you’re doing it on purpose. You saw how flustered you made him and decided to keep going. He’s not sure if he hates you or just fell in love with you. 

“Right,” Dustin says, completely unconvinced. 

“Okay, well, I’ll make myself scarce before the rest of the nerds get here. Remember, two and a half hours, Dustin,” you point at him as you rise from the couch. 

“I know, I know.”

Eddie watches you disappear down the hall. His eyes stay on the beginning of the hallway until he hears your bedroom door click shut. Then he finally looks at the boy in front of him. Dustin has narrowed eyes on Eddie.

“What?” Eddie asks defensively and continues emptying his bag. 

“You tell me,” Dustin crosses his arms.

“I don't know what you mean,” Eddie lies as he spreads out his reference materials and notes behind the screen.

“Bullshit.”

“We were just talking.”

Before Dustin can pry further the rest of the boys start piling in. Mike, Lucas, and Will are confident just walking in like they live there. Jeff and Gareth follow with more hesitation. Eddie happily dives in once everyone is settled at the table. Happy to continue the campaign and happy to avoid talking about you further with Dustin. He’s not sure how the younger Henderson will take his burgeoning crush. 

Around thirty minutes into their gameplay you appear for a drink. You notice immediately that Eddie becomes distracted when you pop into the kitchen. Eddie’s eyes track you the entire way as the others discuss their next move. You catch his gaze when you turn around from the fridge. Before he can try to act like he wasn't staring, you smirk. Then you’re taking a nice long drink from your can of coke. Eddie swallows, watching you, Adam's apple bobbing as he tries to regain the ability to speak. 

“Eddie,” Dustin waves his hand in front of Eddie’s eyes.

 Eddie blinks back into the game, feeling like he traveled a million light years and back. Dustin glances over his shoulder to where Eddie had been zoned off staring. You give your brother a small wave when he sees you. His eyebrows furrowed as he looks back to Eddie who is trying desperately to get back on track. Eddie hazards one more quick look at you. You throw him a wink as you make your exit. On their way back to the table in front of him, his eyes meet Dustin’s.

“What the hell was that?” Dustin questions.

“That was Mike getting knocked prone,” Eddie answers and reaches over his screen to knock Mike’s miniature on its side. 

“You’re deflecting,” Mike says smugly, happy to have some retribution for the hit Eddie’s NPC made on his character. 

“Uh, no, I’m DM-ing,” he makes a sweeping gesture to the layout in front of him.

“Holy shit, Eddie has a crush,” Lucas realizes out loud. 

Dustin groans.

“Are we gonna have to stop playing here?” Will asks genuinely.

 Will is the only one Eddie can consider innocent here. The rest of them earn a glare. 

“I don't know, Eddie, will we?” Dustin sasses with a pointed look at Eddie.

“No, we won't. We only have a couple hours here, can we get back to the fucking game?” Eddie snaps them back into focus. 

An hour goes by and you’re back. This time Eddie is able to drag his gaze away from where you’re digging around in a cabinet. You have to reach up in a way that exposes the skin of your stomach. A silky stripe of skin and some tufts of dark hair between your too small shirt and sweatpants. 

Instead of allowing himself to get distracted by you again, he starts putting on more of a show. His movements become more dramatic, he throws himself more fully into the voices he’s doing, and overall amping up the theatrics. He figures if you admire him always being himself, he'll dial himself up to ten. 

You find yourself leaning against the counter with a bag of chips in your hand watching. No one else seems to have noticed your arrival. They’re too taken in by the narrative Eddie is weaving. You can't blame them. Eddie puts his full body into it. After a couple minutes he lets the group deliberate their next move. His eyes flicker over to you again, a smirk on his face. The eye contact jolts you from whatever weird fog you’d fallen into watching him. As you make your leave you see the quick wink Eddie tosses your way. 

Your heart is loud in your ears when you shut your door. Oh, it’s on, Munson, you think to yourself. If there's one thing you are, it's competitive. It’s clear you fluster Eddie, which means there’s some type of attraction there. Truthfully, you’re attracted to him too. You always have been. His authenticity and ability to stay true to himself have always drawn you in. Now that you can tell he’s into this too, you’re ready to have fun with it. The two of you have officially entered a little game and you refuse to lose.

 An old pair of shorts is your next move. They’re Hawkins High green with white trim and stripes up the side of each leg. They’re long enough to cover everything, but short enough to draw attention. You give it another fifteen minutes before re-emerging. When you do so you fan yourself with your hand to pretend your room is hot. Without looking to see if Eddie has noticed you bend at the hips to start peering in the fridge. You look innocuous enough searching for a water bottle to cool down. Then you hear a clattering, a few shouts, and fumbling.

“Shit,” Eddie hisses. 

You turn around with a water bottle pressed to your forehead. Everyone, but Eddie, is frantically looking for something on the floor. A small red pointy looking die sits in front of you on the linoleum, a black number twenty facing up. You pluck it off the floor and hold it up lazily. 

“You guys looking for this?” you ask. A couple of them hit their heads on the table on their way up. 

When they see the D20 between your fingers they swarm you. Suddenly you’re trapped against the fridge by several manic nerds. Dustin grabs the sides of your upper arms. 

“Did you see what it landed on?” He all but demands. 

You shove him off and push through them. Eddie remains seated at the table watching with huge eyes. 

“First off, whose is it?” you ask.

“Mine,” Eddie’s voice wavers just a bit on the single syllable. 

With a bright smile you walk it over to him. He looks up at you when you’re next to the table, face getting more and more red. You place the D20 down in front of him, black twenty still up. His mouth parts slightly as if to say something, but nothing comes out. You have him all lined up where you want him. Now, you just have to make the goal by brandishing some of the only D&D knowledge Dustin has imparted on you.

“Natural twenty,” you say, your smile curling into something more mischievous, “Congrats on the crit.”

Eddie continues blinking his wide dark eyes at you. The rest of the boys groan behind you. Whatever Eddie just rolled for clearly isn't good for them. They all take their seats again. 

“You couldn't have lied?” Dustin huffs comically.

“And rob your DM of his roll? Never,” you chuckle. 

You lift his hat, ruffle his hair, and walk off. Eddie gapes after you, heart absolutely pounding. He won't be able to stand the rest of the game. His jeans got a little tighter when he saw you bent over in those fucking shorts, distracting him mid roll. It only got worse when you walked over his D20, looked down at him like you know the hold you have, and congratulated him on his nat twenty.  

“I think he’s drooling,” Mike’s voice pulls Eddie back to the table.

“He’s speechless,” Gareth adds.

“I’m not speechless. I'm contemplating.”

“Contemplating what?” Lucas questions unconvinced.

“How exactly I want this nat twenty to fuck up your day.”

You don't make another appearance until their time is up. By the time you make it out there it's just Dustin and Eddie. Dustin is on his knees in the living room looking through the different VHS tapes you have in a milk crate. Eddie is packing away all his stuff neatly. 

“How’d it go?” you ask them as you plop down onto your couch. 

Dustin launches into an excited and detailed account of the game. Eddie expects you to tell him to calm down, that you don't need a play by play of every second. You don't. Instead you listen encouragingly, ask questions for clarification, and let Dustin rattle on. 

“Sounds like you did a good job with this one, Dungeon Master,” you say to Eddie with a smile. 

His heart skips. 

“Even I have my days,” he shoots you a smile in return as he zips up his bag. 

“Yeah? Maybe one of these days you’ll be able to keep your dice on the table,” you tease. 

Dustin watches the two of you and it clicks. At first he thought Eddie was just taking a morbid interest. You’ve had plenty of that. Guys in Hawkins like experimenting, toeing the line you ride between genders, and then denying anything ever happened when they come to their senses. He didn't want to think Eddie would be like that, but as protective as you are of Dustin he is of you. The way you prop your chin on your hand and lean on the arm of the couch toward Eddie finally clues Dustin in. You're into Eddie too. 

“Eddie, you should stay and watch E.T. with us,” Dustin interjects. 

Your eyes dart to him curiously. 

“I promised Wayne I'd be home by eight. Next time, alright?” Eddie swings his bag over his shoulder. 

Dustin is disappointed, but doesn't put up a fight. Eddie knew he wouldn't last through a movie with you. Not if earlier was any indication of what you’re capable of doing to him. Not with Dustin around. As disappointed as you might be, you’re also relieved. If Eddie sat next to you the movie would have been forgotten immediately. You and Dustin bid Eddie farewell and start the movie.

Dustin is knocked out on the couch by the end of it. You throw the soft blanket you keep in the living room over him. It’s too early for you to be tired. You take to cleaning up a little, grabbing what Dustin missed when cleaning up after the campaign. When you go to toss the little bits of trash in the garbage can you find it full. You roll your eyes knowing full well Dustin left it like this for you when he could have taken it out. 

The outside air nips at your exposed legs. It’s a short walk to the dumpster, but in the dark it can be creepy. Forest Hills isn't the most lit up place at night. You hurry to toss the bag into the dumpster.

“Come here often?”

The voice startles you. You whip around with a small yelp. Eddie stands before you with a garbage bag in his hand and a teasing smirk on his face. When you realize it's him you recover quickly.

“Only when I’m hoping to see you,” you tease as you step out of his way. He tosses his own bag in the dumpster and turns to face you.

“You callin’ me trash, Henderson?” He raises his eyebrows.

“I didn't say that, but if that's what you took from it…” you smile playfully. 

He shakes his head chuckling.

“You're kinda mean,” Eddie points at you as he says it. 

“Am I?” You ask, taking a step forward. 

There's a foot of space between you and Eddie. You can see his breathing stutter in his chest. 

“Yeah, but I like it,” he admits quietly, heart pounding. 

You smile and take another step forward. You’re fully in Eddie’s space now. He can't even tell if he’s still breathing. You’re still in those fucking shorts, you're openly flirting with him, and you’re so god damn close. He might just die on the spot.

“Do you?” You're torturing him now.

 He knows it. You know it.

“Now you’re just tryna get me to say nice things about you,” he teases with a smirk. 

How he’s maintaining any amount of composure is beyond him. Maybe God is real and right now Eddie is His favorite little soldier.

“Is that so hard?”

“No, not when you're wearing those.”

He nods down to your shorts. You laugh, placing a hand on the breast of his jean vest over his leather jacket. 

“I thought you’d like’em.”

“You were right.”

“I’m glad I dug them out for you then,” you smirk, toying with one of the many pins on his vest. 

“You- for me?” Eddie sputters not expecting the bold statement.

 Light teasing and flirting, sure, but not that.

“You’re really surprised?” you chuckle.

“I mean, yeah,” he shrugs lamely. His composure is quickly slipping.

“Then you haven't been paying attention very well,” you chide playfully. 

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie breathes. 

Before you can say another word, Eddie breaks. He grabs the sides of your face and crashes his lips into yours. You grasp onto the denim of his vest as you melt into it. His lips are warm, urgent, and a little sloppy with desperation. The kiss sends a thrill through your entire body. It’s only when he pulls away that you remember where you are. Outside at night kissing Eddie Munson next to the fucking dumpster. Are you sixteen again? 

You just look into each other's eyes for a second. Eddie’s face is still just inches away from yours. His pupils are blown to shit and you're sure yours are too. You drag him forward again by the grip on his vest. This time your other hand finds a home in his coarse wavy to curly hair. He moans into your mouth as your hold on his hair tightens. You give a surprised groan when his hand grabs your ass. He rides the shorts up just enough for him to brush against the skin they once covered. 

It takes an extreme amount of effort to pull away. Somehow, you manage. Both of you are breathing heavily. After a second of just studying each other's face, you shake your head with a smile.

“I better get going before I try to jump your bones in the dumpster,” you say, but don't move. 

“Maybe you can jump my bones another time,” Eddie suggests with a smile. 

You chuckle.

“I think that can be arranged.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Aren't you eager,” you tease.

“Can you blame me?”

“No, I guess not.”

He gives you an expectant stare. You pretend to think his offer over. 

“Okay, tomorrow. Dustin should be gone by one,” you nod. 

Eddie fights off a groan. He forgot about the Dustin of it all. Maybe this isn't a good idea. Maybe he should call the whole thing off. 

“See you tomorrow,” he says instead. 

“I look forward to it,” you smile and leave him.

 He watches you walk back to your trailer. Without you pressed against him, he’s suddenly cold. He jogs back to his own trailer still in disbelief. His thoughts are spinning. One thing is for sure, his dreams are going to be full of you tonight.

***

Eddie’s fist hovers by the door for a second. This is his last chance to back out. It’s his last chance to turn around and avoid any awkward confrontation with Dustin later. Eddie cares about that kid’s opinion of him far too much. Once he has the thought to leave, he gives a quick rhythmic knock. 

“Eddie?” Dustin questions when he opens the door, “What are you doing here?” 

Eddie struggles for something to say. Dustin is supposed to be gone. 

“Oh, Eddie left his dice. I gave him a call last night,” your voice calls from deeper in the trailer. 

The lie is easy and smooth.

“So, you gonna let me in or what?” Eddie jerks his chin up at Dustin. 

His hands are shoved into the pockets of his vest. The left one is wrapped around the condom he brought just in case you didn't have any. He’s almost afraid if he lets go it’ll fall out and Dustin will have more questions. 

Dustin pushes the screen door open to let Eddie in. When he enters he sees you standing over the kitchen sink. You shoot him an apologetic look over your shoulder. He returns it with a small understanding smile. Clearly, you hadn't planned on Dustin still being here either. You turn off the water, dry your hands on a nearby towel, and face him from the kitchen.

“I have the dice in my room,” you tilt your head toward the hallway. 

You lead Eddie to your bedroom. It’s at the end of the short hall, similar to his own. An unmade full bed is pushed into the far corner under the singular window. A dresser sits in the opposite corner with a couple framed pictures on top and what looks like a small silver urn. The wall behind your bed is adorned with an intricate forest green tapestry with the tree of life on it. 

“I’m so sorry,” you begin in a hushed voice.

“S’alright,” Eddie assures you.

“He decided to stay and I couldn't exactly tell him no,” you explain anxiously.

“It’s really alright, Henderson,” he gives you a reassuring smile. 

Your heart skips a beat. Part of you feared he’d be pissed. There have been plenty of guys in the past whose tempers were as short as their sexuality was confusing. Eddie notices the way you relax when you accept his words.

“Well, you’re welcome to hang out as long as you’d like,” you tell him.

“Maybe I should go. This probably wasn't a good idea anyway,” he says with a quick look over his shoulder. 

Dustin is still in the living room, Eddie can hear the tv. When his eyes turn back to you, your whole demeanor has changed. Your face is suddenly unreadable. Your stance is closed off. 

“Yeah, maybe you're right,” your voice is cold.

 Eddie starts internally panicking. Clearly he said the wrong thing, but he doesn't know what. 

“It’s not you,” he rushes to explain, “it’s Dustin.”

You roll your eyes.

“Don't use my brother as an excuse for whatever sexuality struggle you're having,” you whisper harshly.

Eddie’s hands find either side of his head. His fingers sink into his hair as he tries to understand how this situation turned on him. 

“I’m not having a sexuality struggle,” he argues, frustration beginning to bubble up.

“Whatever, Eddie. I’ve been through this too many times.”

“Through what? You're not actually fucking talking to me. Just talk to me,” he gestured wildly in the air, shaking his hands in a pleading motion. 

“Through assholes chatting me up, making me feel special, like maybe someone actually fucking likes me. Only to find out I was nothing but a novelty. I don't know why I thought you could be any different,” you explain bitterly with a shake of your head.

Eddie runs a hand over his face as he processes. Your words sting. They burn tiny lacerations into his skin. I don't know why I thought you could be any different. He never thought he'd be compared to the rest of Hawkins, always an outlier. You’re grouping him in with probably the worst Hawkins has to offer. Now that really fucking hurts.

“I do actually fucking like you. Why can't you get it's more complicated than that?” 

“Oh, I get it. You can't figure out what you’re feeling and you’re afraid it’ll make you gay. So, test it out with me and then move the fuck on like nothing ever happened,” you say while crossing your arms. You fold in on yourself, becoming smaller and smaller before Eddie’s eyes.

“I am gay-I mean not gay gay but-fuck,” Eddie struggles. 

The heels of his hands dig into his eyes as he tries to collect his racing thoughts.

“Just go, Eddie. We can pretend this never happened,” your voice is low, almost a rumble. 

“Will you just listen to me?” he demands frustratedly, voice raised. 

“Is everything alright?” Dustin appears in the open doorway. 

His face is full of concern and confusion. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine, Dust. Eddie was just leaving.”

Eddie gives you a desperate look. He pleads with those big brown eyes. When it's clear you’re done and this conversation isn't going any further he sighs.

“See you later, Henderson,” he mumbles as he pushes past Dustin. 

You’re not really sure which one of you it's directed at. Eddie isn't either.

***

You actively avoid Eddie the following week. It’s painfully obvious. He wants a chance to grab you. To talk to you and explain the misunderstanding. He's beginning to think you can sense that and that's why you’ve been so slippery as of late. The only time he really could is when you’re on your way to work, but he doesn't want to do that. He doesn't want to make you late or upset you before a shift. 

Dustin opens the door the next time Eddie knocks. You’re still letting them play in your trailer, but you haven't been home the last couple sessions. He does his best not to let it bother him. It's fucking hard when Dustin keeps giving him these watchful, curious looks. Almost like he’s trying to decipher what happened just by studying Eddie’s face. These looks are peppered throughout the entire campaign, exhausting Eddie.

It feels like fate when you come home as he’s packing up. He gives you an unsure smile. You return it and go into your room. That’s something. That’s progress. At the end of the day, Eddie doesn't want you thinking so low of him. He hates knowing you think he'd use you as an experiment. He’s an asshole, but he’s not a piece of shit. 

“Dustin, if you need a ride home Steve is stopping by in a few minutes,” you call out from your bedroom.

When you walk back out you’re in a pair of dark blue shorts that fall to your mid-thigh, and a baggy white muscle shirt. You catch the expression Eddie was making before he managed to wipe it off his face. You pause between the kitchen and the front door. 

“What?” you question a little aggressively.

Eddie holds his hands up to his chest in surrender. The unwarranted attitude automatically sets him off.

“Put the gun away, jeez. I didn't know you’re friends with Harrington is all,” Eddie snaps back defensively. 

“Okay, what the fuck is going on between you guys? I thought you liked each other,  but now you’re acting like you hate each other,” Dustin interrupts exasperated. 

“Shut up,” the two of you say in unison.

Your head snaps to Eddie.

“Did you just tell my brother to shut up, Munson?” you demand. 

“You did too!”

“Because he’s my brother. Who the fuck are you to talk to him that way?” 

“Will you calm down?” Dustin demands.

“Dust-”

“No, this is so stupid. What happened?”

You grit your teeth. A sharp exhale exits your flared nostrils. Your eyes flicker to Eddie for a second. His face is red with frustration, his eyebrows are set, and his mouth is a thin line. You look back to Dustin's confused face.

“Jason,” you state flatly.

“Jason?” Eddie questions, absolutely bewildered.

Dustin’s face drops. His eyes squeeze shut as he sighs. You watch him slowly turn to look at Eddie. Eddie’s stomach sinks when he sees Dustin’s broken expression.

“Eddie, you didn't,” he pleads softly. 

Eddie’s eyes fly furiously between you and Dustin. He’s trying to grasp what the fuck is happening. Why did you bring up Jason? Why is Dustin looking at him like that?

“Didn’t what? What’s going on?” he asks, absolutely lost.

“You should go,” Dustin answers solemnly. 

“Jesus Christ, you fucking Hendersons don't know how to have a conversation to save your lives,” Eddie grumbles as he continues packing up his stuff.

“What’s that, Munson?” You demand, stepping forward.

“C’mon, don’t-” Dustin starts.

“Dustin, go wait outside,” you order without looking at him.

Your glare remains firmly on Eddie. Eddie who is glaring firmly back, only the battle map left on the table. 

“I’m not gonna wa-”

“Outside, now.”

Dustin huffs, but ultimately listens. Once the door is slammed shut behind him you march up to Eddie. Eddie backs up, but you don't stop. Soon his back hits the wall and there’s nowhere else to go. You stop directly in front of him and start aggressively poking his chest.

“Let’s get something fucking straight, Munson. If you’re going to be using my home for your stupid fucking childish fantasy game you're not going to talk about Dustin or me that way, got it?” you spat.

“Oh, now it's a stupid fucking childish fantasy game. That’s rich. You didn’t seem to think that when you were drooling over me DMing.” Eddie counters, still holding up his facade of confidence despite being cornered. 

“Please, don’t flatter yourself,” you scoff.

“I’m not. It’s pretty fucking clear you’re into me, sweetheart.”

“Yeah? And what are you? Completely indifferent? You get a hard on just from seeing me in shorts. You're pathetic.”

Eddie wants to be hurt. He wants to be hurt so fucking bad. His body has other plans in response to your words, though. Fire spreads to every limb. He has half a mind to bend you over the table right now and show you just how pathetic he is. He’s ready to make you an incoherent mewling mess so he can lean down and whisper who’s pathetic now? into your ear. 

“And you’re a fucking tease,” he snaps instead. 

“Holy shit,” you laugh sarcastically, “You’re getting turned on right now, aren't you?”

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn't you?”

“Me? Munson, you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

The front door slams open. You whip around and Eddie’s eyes snap up to the door. Steve is standing there with his hands on his hips, looking completely unimpressed. 

“Alright, kids, what seems to be the problem here?” Steve asks.

He steps into the trailer with Dustin at his heels. Both you and Eddie are red, breathing heavily, and still standing within an inch of each other. 

“Steve, can you just bring Dustin home, please?” you try to sound less irritated, but it doesn't work very well.

“Okay, well, one, you said I could borrow your blue jacket. And two, I’m not going anywhere until you two explain what the fuck is going on.”

“Nothing, I’m just dealing with Jason Junior over here,” you answer, crossing your arms. 

Steve’s head lolls back briefly in exasperation.

“God, Eddie, not you too,” he groans. 

“Not me too, what? Can you guys stop being so fucking cryptic and tell me what you mean?” Eddie demands.

He’s absolutely over being compared to Jason out of everyone. You huff and walk away. The three of them watch you wander into your room and then back out. You throw the blue bomber jacket at Steve. He catches it with a frown.

“Everyone just get the fuck out of my house,” you grumble and stomp back to your room.

The door slams with such force Eddie is surprised he doesn't hear the wood splinter. All three boys flinch at the sound. Eddie scoffs to himself and starts to barge out. Steve stands in front of the door, blocking Eddie’s way.

“Move, Harrington,” Eddie orders.

“Not until you tell me what all that was about, Munson.”

“Can we do this outside?” Dustin interjects.

The three of them leave the trailer. You’re left alone in your room with nothing, but endless silence. Endless silence and that heavy feeling you get in your stomach whenever you just get done ruining everything. 

“Okay, can someone please tell me what the fuck all this Jason bullshit is about?” Eddie turns on Dustin and Steve once they’re a good few feet from the trailer.

Steve and Dustin exchange a look that Eddie doesn't like. They’re both privy to something about you that Eddie isn't. It’s not surprising, but it's surely irritating. Especially when everyone is talking about it like he knows too. 

“You remember that black eye Jason had inexplicably about four months ago?” Steve sighs.

“Yeah, it was a helluva shiner.”

“I gave him that.”

Eddie spends a moment just blinking. How is this relevant?

“Okay…” Eddie trails off, shaking his head to tell Steve to continue. 

“I gave him that because he’s a little prick that really fucked’em over,” Steve continued with a gesture over his shoulder at your trailer. 

“Wait… Jason? They were with Jason?” Eddie questions in disbelief. 

“Yeah, behind locked doors. Until Jason was done playing queer and got with Chrissy without saying anything,” Dustin says bitterly.

Hearing queer from Dustin’s mouth kinda stung Eddie, he won't lie. He knows Dustin meant it in a sexuality way, not derogatory. Something he likely picked up from you. Still, there’s something about someone decidedly straight saying it. 

“When they confronted him about it he… He said some not very nice things. It really fucked with them. Like really fucked with them. I mean he wasn't the first one to do something like that, but he was the worst one,” Steve explained, sounding irritated at the memory.

“I still don't get what that has to do with me,” Eddie rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“You tell us,” Dustin crosses his arms.

“I don't fucking know.”

“Just tell us what happened between the two of you,” Steve rubs the bridge of his nose, a hand in his hip.

Eddie tucks his hands in his armpits. He spends too long looking between Dustin and Steve. He really doesn't want to do this. He really really doesn't want to do this, but he also doesn't want to be put in the same league as fucking Jason. Frustrated that he’s backed into a corner for the second time today, Eddie wets his lips with his tongue.

“Fine, fine. We’ve been flirting. Last week we made out a little- the night you guys watched E.T.. I was supposed to come over the next day after you were gone so we could… y’know,” Eddie gestures awkwardly with his hands.

Both Dustin and Steve let out an ew.

“Yeah, anyway. You were still there. When we were talking in their room I said that maybe it's for the better that we didn't do anything. After that… I dunno what happened exactly. They started going on about me having a sexuality crisis, which isn't what was happening. I was just worried you would be pissed at me if we did do something,” Eddie finishes explaining. 

Dustin and Steve exchange a look again. Eddie hates this. He hates feeling put under a microscope. He hates that you’ve turned on him so quickly. 

“You sure you weren’t… experimenting?” Steve asks, jerking his chin up at Eddie.

Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I got experimenting out of my system a long time ago, alright? I know who and what I like.”

Steve nods and rubs his jaw in contemplation. He glances once more at Dustin who wears a troubled expression. That troubled expression is aimed directly at Eddie.

“You're both pussies,” Dustin states.

“Excuse me?” Steve scoffs.

“Not you,” Dustin rolls his eyes.

“I’m not a pussy. I tried, alright? Whenever we talk now it’s just a fucking fight,” Eddie says heatedly. 

“You used me as an excuse. That’s why they think you’re full of shit. You flirt and make out then all the sudden you get concerned with what I think? It’s bullshit, Eddie. You just got scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Of the possibility you could have feelings!”

Eddie’s jaw sets. His hands tuck back into his armpits, now his arms apply more pressure. Acid rises in his throat. The kid is right. It’s not that he has any crazy feelings right now, but he can feel them coming. Like a sneeze building up, he can sense the oncoming rush. The way you carry yourself, the way you speak to others, the way you speak to him. Eddie knows he could catch feelings fast if given the chance. When an out was presented, he took it. It’s the feelings that make this feel messy, not your relation to Dustin.

“Can we just fucking agree that I’m not Jason?” Eddie sounds more desperate than he’d like. 

“You’re not Jason, but you gotta get them to realize that,” Steve tells him.

Eddie sighs.

“I’m going inside. I’ll see you later,” he mumbles, turning on his heel. 

This conversation has him exhausted. You have him exhausted. He knows he has to find a way to talk to you. Talk, not argue. Not fall down a rabbit hole of aggressive sexual tension. Right now, though, he needs to take a fucking nap.

***

The short rap on the front door startles you. You wait for a beat where you lay on the couch. Another set of three knocks. Curiously, you answer the door. When you see Eddie standing with the screen door open you go to close it again. His hand flies out and stops the door from shutting.

“Will you just let me talk?” He huffs.

“Fine,” you sigh and go back to the couch.

You don't bother checking if he’s following. The screen door creaking shut followed by the front door lets you know. He sits delicately next to you. There's a few inches of space left between your legs. Eddie fiddles with the rings that have become a permanent fixture on his left hand. 

“So, talk,” you order.

“I’m not Jason, alright?”

“Cool, that it? You can see yourself out.”

“What the fuck is your problem?” Eddie snaps. 

He tries to believe he made a valiant effort to stay calm. Your attitude irritates him more each time you show it. Eddie is a lot of things, patient in the face of unwarranted malice is not one of them. 

“You, you’re my fucking problem.”

“Me? Henderson, you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid,” Eddie turns your own words against you.

Your head snaps to look at him. Nostrils flaring, face red, and eyes full of contempt. 

“Please, Munson, you’re beneath me. You’re pathetic,” you sneer.

Jesus Christ, there's no reason your words went straight to Eddie’s dick the way they did. How are you able to play him with more skill than he does his guitar? 

“I wasn't pathetic when you were sucking my face off by the dumpster,” he counters.

“You act like I sucked your dick. It was a stupid kiss.”

“I remember you wanting to jump my bones after that stupid kiss,” Eddie mocks you.

Your fists clench in your lap. You’re about a second away from grabbing Eddie by his hair and showing him just how pathetic he is. 

“Yeah, then unfortunately for you, you kept running your fucking mouth.”

“Unfortunately for me? Trust me, sweetheart, you’re the one missing out. I woulda rocked your world, anyone else woulda been ruined for you,” Eddie’s voice is condescending with a challenging edge. 

You lean in slightly with narrowed eyes.

“I really doubt that.”

Eddie leans in some.

“Do you?”

You lean in even further.

“Yeah, I do.”

Eddie’s eyes flash down to your mouth before quickly moving back to your eyes. 

“Maybe I should prove it to you then.”

“Now who wants to fuck so bad they look stupid?” You smirk. 

“Fuck it, me,” Eddie breathes and closes the space between you.

His hands are on your face. His mouth moves furiously against yours sending shockwaves down your body. One of your hands takes hold of the back of Eddie’s hair. The other runs along his jaw until it’s circled around his neck. You force him away by tugging back on his hair and pushing forward on his throat. He looks so pretty like this with his big eyes wide as can be, all pupils. His face is flushed and his breathing is ragged. Eddie is pliant in your grasp.

“Look at you. Just as pathetic as I thought,” you coo teasingly.

“I’ll show you pathetic,” he grumbles.

In a blink, you’re flat on your back, wrists pinned above your head with one of Eddie’s strong calloused hands. He hovers over you. The heat radiating from his body soaks into your skin. The tip of his nose brushes against yours.

“You’re a real fucking brat, y’know that? Go on, admit it. Tell me you're a brat,” he hisses in your face, warm breath hitting your lips.

Your heart is pounding. Your body is heating up. Every part of you wants this so bad no matter how much you hate it. 

“You’re an asshole,” you hiss back.

Eddie’s rings are cold against your jaw. His grip is punishing as he manhandles your face. He presses his forehead to yours. Those huge brown eyes are commandeering as they lock onto yours.

“Am I gonna have to fuck that attitude out of you?”

You manage to let out a taunting laugh.

“You don’t have what it takes to fuck anything out of me,” you bite.

His grip tightens making talking impossible. Eddie's mouth brushes against your ear and his hair tickles your nose.

“I’m going to fuck you until the only words you know are Eddie, please, and more,” he whispers. 

You hate the shiver that runs down your spine. You hate how much he just turned you on, how much you want what he’s threatening you with. Every nerve ending is on fire. Eddie’s lips begin an assault on the soft bit of skin just below your ear. The sensation makes you squirm in delight. Eddie smiles against your neck.

“There you go, now you’re behaving. Now that you’ve finally shut the fuck up,” he taunts.

You glare at him, still unable to speak with his hand holding your face. That’s it. He’s been on you long enough. You’ve let him have control for long enough. Confusion flashes across his face when you smile. You lock your legs around Eddie’s waist. With a grunt, you launch your hips and legs up and over. 

Eddie lands with an annoyed noise on his back on the carpeted floor. You straddle him, wrists free. Now you grip both his wrists next to his head. You brandish a wicked smile as he looks up at you in surprise. Clearly he wasn't expecting to be bested at that moment. Your knees dig into the carpet uncomfortably around his hips, but you ignore it. Eddie’s slightly nervous expression takes your attention off of it. You lean in to brush the tips of your noses together like he did before. 

“What, big boy? Not feeling very confident anymore? You got no more to say?” you mock him quietly.

“I already said everything I need to say,” he mumbles back.

“What’s that, bitch? I didn't hear you,” your voice drips with venom. 

Something in Eddie completely snaps. He swears he hears the sound of it. A deafening CRACK SNAP POP. Then whatever wild animal that has been scratching at his insides bursts free. 

“Alright, I’m real fuckin’ tired of this attitude, sweetheart. Guess I’m gonna have to do somethin’ about it.”

You open your mouth to challenge him further. To berate him, degrade him. He can feel it. While it would only egg him on, only contribute to the growing erection in his pants, he won't allow it. He won't let you win control over this situation. Not this time. You’re already far too smug.

Eddie manages to rip his hands away from yours. In a blink, he’s sitting up. You place your hands flat on his chest to shove him back down, but he moves too fast. His hands are under your ass, scooping you up as he stands in a second. Instinctively, you wrap yourself around him to avoid falling. He has a firm steady grip on you, though.

“You won't be able to walk right when I’m done with you,” he growls, setting off for your bedroom.

“I just don't believe you’re good enough at sex for that,” you whisper into his ear with a smirk.

“Oh, I’ll make a believer out of you. My dick will have you meeting God and calling him by my name.”

He throws you onto your bed. The rough manhandling is something you never knew you wanted. It’s riling you up even more. 

“You got condoms or are we doing this raw?” Eddie questions.

“I have condoms, but we’re doing this raw anyway,” you answer smugly.

“Is that what you think?” he taunts.

He rummages around your bedside table. There’s a decent sized box of condoms that’s about three quarters of the way empty. Admittedly, you haven't touched the box in a while. It’s from another life that ended months ago. However, when Eddie teases you about them, you find yourself lying.

“Jesus Christ, you’re more of a fucking whore than I took you for,” he holds up the box, shaking it to emphasize how empty it is.

“I like sex, and I like cumming even more. Too bad only one of those things will be happening tonight.”

Eddie takes out a condom and throws the box back in the drawer. He unbuttons his pants and kicks them off unceremoniously. You can see the imprint of his dick hardening in his tight boxers. He looks down at you with hooded lustful eyes. Soon you’re staring at his bare dick, his underwear abandoned on the floor. It bobs throbbing and red, glistening with precum. 

“Get on your hands and knees. M’gonna use that big mouth of yours since you like havin’ it open so fuckin’ much,” he snaps.

You don’t know why, but you listen. Now that you’re on your bed with Eddie’s dick right there, all fight is gone. Eddie's hand grabs a fistful of your hair and pushes into your mouth. 

“Shit,” he moans as you welcome him in with a twirl of your tongue. 

He starts fucking your face slowly. You look up at him through your lashes. Eddie is watching you take him into your mouth like it's nothing. The eye contact makes you moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he brushes the back of your throat. 

“Never thought I’d get you to shut the fuck up,” Eddie grunts as he picks up his pace. 

You try to remove your mouth. A scalding remark on the tip of your tongue. His grip on your hair tightens until it burns. His thrusts don't break.

“Not so fast, sweetheart. I plan on cumming down your throat before that loud mouth of yours starts up again.”

And fuck if that doesn't send you on a mission. Eddie doesn't even need to guide you after that, but it doesn't stop him. He refuses to relinquish control. He refuses to give you an opportunity to flip this on him. Finally, his hips stutter. Then he’s holding your head, calling out a resounding FUCK, and buries your nose in the dark hair at the base of his dick. You moan as Eddie shoots hot streams of cum down your throat. You take every last drop.

Once he’s finished, his grip on your hair loosens. You sit back on your heels. While making eye contact, you use the back of your hand to wipe your mouth. It’s a move that makes Eddie’s softening dick twitch.

“You had something to say?” Eddie's voice is raspy, but still condescending.

You narrow your eyes at him. As if he wasn't just using your mouth to get off, you cross your arms petulantly. 

“No, it’s okay. I don't think your fragile ego can handle it,” you shrug.

Eddie huff in disbelief.

“I just fucked my cum down your throat and your gonna call my ego fragile?”

“Seems so.”

“Just tell me what you were gonna fuckin’ say,” he orders, climbing into the bed over you.

Eddie crowding you causes you to lay back. Even in the compromising position, you smirk smugly. Eddie’s hair tickles your cheeks as he hovers over you. He raises his eyebrows expectantly.

“It was nothing really… Just that Jason’s dick always managed to shut me up way faster than yours did,” you say casually, almost bored. 

“Jason’s di- are you seriously bringing him up right now?”

“Why, that bother you?”

“Considering I’m about to make you meet God like we talked about, yeah a little,” Eddie’s voice is breathy. 

He actually sounds a bit irritated.

“Never took you for the religious type.”

Eddie gets a wicked smile.

“‘M not, but you’re already in bed with the Devil, baby. Only one other Big Man to meet.”

“Big? Is that what you think of yourself?”

“Do you need a reminder? I’ll be happy to fuck that pretty mouth of yours again.”

Eddie leans down closer. Fuck, you want to kiss him. You don't. You won't let him know just how much you’re enjoying this. Instead you smile teasingly.

“You think my mouth is pretty?” You bat your eyelashes at him.

“Fuck, I hate to admit it, but… Not gonna lie, I think every part of you is unreal. Y’know, until you start talking.” 

You snake your hands up Eddie’s chest. Slowly and sensually, you make your way up his shoulders. Then you skirt up and around to the back of his neck until your fingers tangle in his hair. Eddie really likes when you play with his hair. You can tell by the way his eyelids droop a little more at the contact. He almost looks like he’s about to lean down and kiss you. So, you take your chance.

Your grip tightens tenfold. Eddie’s eyes widen as you pull him back, sitting up in the process. He hisses, but doesn't complain otherwise. You glide the tip of your nose up the side of his neck until you reach his earlobe. With a smirk, you angle your head up so you can speak into his ear. 

“I’m gonna use that big mouth of yours since you like having it open so fucking much,” you whisper, using his own words against him.

You swear you hear him breathe a curse. You let go of his hair, knowing he’ll follow you wherever you lead. Eddie is sure you could lead him into Mordor, up Mount Doom, and down into the lava like Sméagol. He’s sure that whatever painful obsession the ring of power imposed on Frodo, you just imposed on him. For better or worse. Eddie Munson is officially and completely captivated by you. You’re his precious.

That’s why he doesn't hesitate. He doesn't argue. He doesn't talk back. Instead he watches, waits patiently for you to settle into your pillows and peel off your shorts and underwear. Eddie happily, even eagerly, let’s you fuck his face like he did yours. You swear his tongue is magic. It’s hitting all the right spots, deft movements eliciting loud moans from you. 

“Look at you. Just as pathetic as I thought,” you say as your thighs clench around Eddie’s head, your fingers digging into his scalp.

All Eddie can manage is a moan as you fill his mouth. You don't take as long as Eddie did to finish. Him using you and cumming down your throat had gotten you close enough, closer than you care to admit. You cum with a loud moan, no actual words coming out. With your fingers tangled in his hair, you pull him up. He looks dazed, drunk on your taste. 

“At least your mouth is good for something,” you tell him with a slick grin. 

Christ, Eddie is a goner. He’s an absolute goner. This is so so bad.

“Look at you, you’re already all fucked out and we haven't even gotten to actually fucking yet. You’re really making me miss Jason…” you sigh dramatically. 

The mention of Jason again wakes Eddie up. A growl rumbles through his chest. His hand finds your wrist, applying enough pressure to get you to let go of his hair. He clambers over you, face real close to yours. There’s something hungry in his dark eyes. Something carnivorous.

“I’m gonna make sure you forget about fucking Jason,” he hisses.

“Fucking Jason is the one thing I like to remember,” you tease.

Eddie silently curses his own poorly placed fuck that gave you that opening. Hearing Jason’s name in the middle of this is seriously starting to grate his nerves.

“That’s it,” Eddie grumbles.

Before you can question him, he grabs onto your waist. With little effort he flips you onto your stomach. Your face is held sideways against your pillows. Eddie forces your hips in the air. You can feel the tip of his dick tease your entrance, causing you to twitch. 

“What happened to the condom, prude?” you spit at him from your compromised position.

“The whore wanted it raw, the whore will get it raw,” he growls back. 

It’s in that submissive state, Eddie’s rings digging into your scalp as he holds you down, him degrading you that you realize you’re a goner. You’re an absolute goner. This is so, so bad.

“What’re you waitin’ for then?” you question.

A loud SLAP rings out and a burning sensation spreads across your ass cheek. You gasp at the feeling. 

“This is for my pleasure, whore. This isn't about you. I’ll go as fast or slow as I like.”

On the last word Eddie pushes into you. He doesn't go too fast at first. Sure, he wants to fuck you until you can't walk, but he doesn't want to hurt you. The foreplay was minimal, slow is better for now. You whine as he bottoms out. Completely stretched out and full you can do nothing but grip the sheets on either side of your head. 

Slowly, Eddie begins to move. He’s so lost in the feel of you around him and his own mutterings of Jesus Christ that he doesn't register you speaking at first.

“What?” He breathes.

You cackle.

“Christ, Munson, you’re pathetic.”

There’s that word again. That fucking word. Eddie leans down, both of your damp shirts still on and sticking to each other. 

“Remember what I said earlier?” he whispers into your ear.

“I remember you saying you think I’m unreal,” you mock him.

He straightens back up.

“Yeah, yeah, keep talkin’ while you still can. Soon you’ll only be able to say Eddie,” he gives a single powerful thrust earning a moan from you, “please,” another powerful thrust, “more.”

Eddie sets off on a wild chase of his second orgasm and your delirium. Admittedly, that delirium was setting in very fast. His movements are quick, strong, and fluid. You can't think of anyone else who has fucked you like this. In a way you didn't realize you’ve been craving. In a way that doesn't make you feel like an object, a subject to be studied, or a novelty. Eddie makes you feel a person who is desired, even in spite of the animosity ripe between you. He makes you feel like a whore in the best way possible.

“Shit, you feel so fucking good,” Eddie groans as you tighten around him. 

He’s giving you so much already, but he was right. There are only three words you can think of right now. Only three words you think you’re capable of uttering.

“Eddie,” you moan.

“What’s that, sweetheart?”

“Please.”

“Come again?”

“More.”

“Not sure I heard you right,” he says smugly, never breaking pace.

“Eddie, please, more,” you moan.

“Thought so.”

Eddie’s thrusts become animalistic. All the anger, frustration, name calling, and overall emotion from the rollercoaster that your relationship has been are being taken out on you. You start saying it like a mantra. Eddie, please, more. It’s a white flag, a surrender. It’s you telling him he’s won. Boy, oh, boy is it a sweet fucking sound. A sound that turns into a scream of a moan with your body tensing around him. He spills into you, hips flush against your ass. His own moans mingle with yours in the air. 

You collapse onto your stomach, Eddie close behind. He stays on top of you. After a minute of catching his breath he rolls off of you. You stay on your stomach as you come back to your senses. 

“You alright, Henderson?” Eddie’s voice is much softer than you’re expecting. 

You turn your head to face him. He’s watching you with wide eyes. How does he manage to look so innocent after everything he just did to you?

“Yeah, Munson, I’m peachy. You good?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

He nods, eyes never leaving you. Your eyes don't leave him. What’s the point in trying to hide staring after all that? You don't care that he is and he doesn't care that you are. 

“So, you still miss fucking Jason?” Eddie asks playfully.

“Who?” 

“Good,” he smiles, looking awfully pleased with himself. 

“Do we still hate each other? I can't remember anymore,” you knit your eyebrows to feign confusion. 

Eddie laughs. It’s a low sound that rumbled through his chest. His eyes take on a gooey quality that you fear you may get stuck in.

“I think we might like each other now. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Sounds good to me.”

***

The scent of sex is thick and heavy in the air when you wake up. Golden light streaks across your face as the sun lowers beneath the horizon. When you shift to turn over and check the time on your alarm clock, a warm weight stops you. Eddie’s arms are around you loosely, holding you against his chest. Both of you are still in only your shirts. 

Carefully, you extract yourself. Eddie groans, but doesn't wake. You only bother with a new pair of underwear. Your stomach lets out a loud grumble and the hunger hits you. You take another look at Eddie’s sleeping form. The annoyance doesn't creep up at the sight of him anymore. Something else does in its place. Something you decide not to dwell on. All you know is if you’re this hungry, he’ll wake up hungry too.

Eddie wakes up to the smell of sex, bacon, eggs, and melted butter. It takes a second to get his bearings. The smell makes him think morning, but the position of the sun tells him it's evening. He crawls out of your bed and pulls his bottom layers back on. When he makes his way out to the main living area he finds you in the kitchen. You’re humming God Only Knows and pushing eggs around in a sizzling pan. Beside you is a plate of bacon and a plate of pancakes. 

There’s a moment where the only thing Eddie can do is watch you. You’re bathed in the last golden rays of the evening, nothing but that baggy white muscle tank and a fresh pair of black underwear. The song isn't one he goes out of his way to listen to, but Wayne has thrown it on a few times. Enough for Eddie to recognize the Beach Boys’ tune. 

“All that for you?” Eddie finally alerts you to his presence. 

You jolt a little in surprise and whip around to look at Eddie. A coy smile crawls upon your face.

“Uh- no. I woke up starving and figured you would too,” you shrug.

As if on cue, Eddie’s stomach lets out a loud growl. You laugh and gesture for him to sit at the table. The whole scene feels so… domestic. If something in Eddie snapped earlier, something else is connecting now. There’s a satisfying click in his head as the sensation of things finally being on the right track sets in. 

“Y’know, I didn’t peg you for a Beach Boys fan,” Eddie comments after a moment of only the sound of you scraping eggs around the pan.

You don't look at him, but Eddie swears he sees color rise to your cheeks.

“I’m not really. It… my dad used to sing that song all the time,” you explain, something close to troubled taking over your voice.

Eddie’s eyebrows raise. He’s never heard mention of Father Henderson before. Dustin only ever has complaints about your mom. Neither of you have mentioned a father until now.

“Dustin’s never mentioned-”

“He wasn't Dustin’s dad.”

You slide the scrambled eggs onto the last empty plate. Eddie watches you bring them over before grabbing a couple more plates for the two of you to eat from. Then some cutlery.

“I’m sorry if I brought up a sore subject,” he apologizes with big eyes as you sit across from him.

You begin shoveling food onto your plate.

“You didn't. I actually love talking about him, but my mom and Dustin have never really felt the same. So, I just don’t.”

“Do you want to talk about him now?” 

You finally look at Eddie. Eyebrows slightly raised, eyes a tad wider than normal, and a soft smile on your lips. He wonders if it's okay to reach over and kiss you. 

“His favorite song was God Only Knows by the Beach Boys, but I guess you probably figured that out.”

“Not a bad choice.”

You chuckle.

“I can't imagine you listening to the Beach Boys.”

“I don't, but Wayne does sometimes. God Only Knows is one of the only ones that doesn't make me want to rip my hair out,” he flashes you a playful smile.

“My dad would sing it whenever he was doing something boring. Laundry, dishes, but especially cooking.”

Eddie nods as he fills his own plate. There’s a couple minutes where the two of you eat in silence. Occasional voices could be heard outside, some cats, and the clinking of bottles as recycling goes out. The average soundtrack of Forest Hills.

“Can I ask what happened or is that not cool?” Eddie asks genuinely. 

He really doesn't know how to navigate this conversation. He doesn't want to piss you off or upset you in general. All he knows is how he would want to be asked and, honestly, he simply wouldn't. You don’t seem as closed off on that front as he is, though.

“Pancreatic cancer. My mom ended the marriage before the cancer did, though. Said it was too much for her to handle.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Eddie suddenly felt very guilty for asking.

You just shrug. 

“Where’s Dustin’s dad?”

“Who knows,” you snort, “he ran off with some woman from his job.”

“Jeez, your mom really has-”

“Poor choice in men? Yeah.”

“I was gonna say piss poor luck.”

You laugh, which loosens some of the tension that's built around the conversation. Eddie chuckles along, scarfing some food down in the process. 

“We would fly kites when it was nice out. Sometimes he’d bring me to the lake where we’d fish and swim. He liked going to the library a lot, too. I basically grew up in the mystery section. A lot of that was lost when the cancer got bad, though. All of it, really. All of it except that song. No matter how bad it got, he always sang that song,” you rattle on sadly, but with a smile.

It’s been so long since you've talked about him. It feels good. Like visiting him after a long time away. Memories are nice, but there’s something special about sharing them. It’s easier to relive them. Easier to enjoy them when you get to do it with someone else. Maybe it’s just because that someone else is Eddie. You think if anyone will understand, or at the very least respect, how it feels it'd be him. 

“What was his name?”

“Jack. Jack Coleman.”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow. He narrows his eyes and leans in, pointing his fork in an accusatory fashion. 

“Wait, so, you’re not a Henderson? You’re a Coleman?” He questions.

You break out in a smile. 

“Guilty.”

Eddie looks like he was struck by lightning. Like the heavens just opened up and revealed the meaning of life to him. 

“Shit, wait… I do remember you!”

“No, you don't,” you shake your head, attempting to hide how mortified that sentence makes you.

“Yes, I totally do! All your friends called you Cole. You had those sick green vans,” he wears a goofy smile.

You feel heat crawl up your neck.

“You remember my vans?”

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to flush bright red.

“Yeah, like I said, they were sick.”

“I still have’em somewhere. Maybe I’ll break’em out one day,” you smile.

Both of you clear your plates after that. You really were hungry. It’s an amicable silence. One that grows more uncomfortable in your chest because you know another hard conversation has to be had.

“I know you’re not Jason, by the way. I mean, I know now. Sorry I jumped to conclusions. I've been through a lot of Jasons,” you tell him softly.

Eddie offers a soft smile.

“S’alright. Would you tell me what happened there? I can't imagine you with fuckin’ Jason.”

You chuckle.

“Yeah, he asked me for help at work and then started saying all the right things. The dating pool for me in Hawkins is small. So, when he said he didn't want anyone to know I said okay. When he pretended not to know me in public I said okay. Then, one day, he was just…,” you frown at the memory of them walking down the street holding hands, “with Chrissy Cunningham. I asked him about it, but he was pissed I called his house. Called me about every derogatory name you can think of.”

Eddie could actually kill Jason. He already hated him, but now he’s actively cursing the ground the asshole walks on. How could he treat you so shitty? How could he not feel grateful he gets to be in your presence in this capacity? 

“Well, I’d like to keep doing this. As public as possible. I want everyone to know I’m with someone this unreal,” he keeps his tone playful, but you can see the sincerity in his eyes. 

Your heart starts pounding against your chest. Eddie is sitting across from you offering you everything you’ve ever wanted in a relationship. Someone who not only wants to be with you, but is proud to be with you. It’s almost too much. 

“So, you're with me now, huh?” you tease.

“I sure am,” Eddie teases back with a wolfish grin.

“Maybe let's start with an actual date.”

“You asking me out, Hen-Coleman,” he places emphasis on getting the last name right. 

A smile forms on your lips. You don't have an issue with being called a Henderson. The different last name is why so many people don't know you and Dustin are related. So, you don't correct people anymore when they call you Henderson. The reminder that you're technically only half siblings has always upset Dustin.

“Yeah, I think I am, Munson.”

“Then I expect to be picked up at seven sharp. You better have flowers and chocolates. I’m expensive to date.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Eddie helps you clean without you asking. He takes over the dishes, scooting you out of the way and instructing you to dry and put them away. 

“I dunno where anything goes,” is his excuse.

Really, he just wanted to take on the more arduous task for you. A sort of repayment for making him food. The effortless kindness you've met him with after the sex you had. The angry, heated sex. Eddie finds it kinda funny how the two of you have fallen into this little exchange of kindness and good will considering how the day began. 

When the dishes are all done and put away, Eddie begins awkwardly fiddling with his rings. It feels like his time with you is coming to an end. He doesn't want to overstay his welcome, but fuck does he want to stay. Just hanging out with you like this makes him feel… normal. He doesn't feel like the Freak, the drug dealer, or the fuck up. He just feels like Eddie and, for the first time, he feels like maybe that's enough. 

“Is it really dumb to ask you to stay?” you ask him suddenly.

You’re standing across the small kitchen, having just put the last of the plates away. Eddie looks at you with wide, excited eyes.

“Awe, you wanna spend more time with me, Coleman?” Eddie coos teasingly. 

“Alright, forget I said anything,” you roll your eyes with a smile.

Eddie lets out a laugh.

“I’ll stay until you kick me out,” he smiles back. 

You don't kick him out until you have to go to work the next afternoon.

***

The next time Dustin calls to beg for permission for Hellfire to meet at your place, you agree without hesitation. The day before you work, but only until five. Eddie is waiting in his van in front of the store when you exit, a lit cigarette between his lips. You smile and hop in. 

“I wasn't expecting you to pick me up,” you say as you buckle your seatbelt.

You know he had work at the record store today. Eddie takes one last drag of his cigarette and puts it out in the cup holder on his side. He’s been doing that ever since you yelled at him for flicking his butts out the window. 

“Got out at four. I’m not gonna let my precious Coleman walk home if I can help it,” he shows off a goofy smile and starts to drive. 

“You think I’m precious,” you coo.

“More precious than the One Ring,” he coos back.

“Okay, you've lost me.”

Eddie glances at you in disbelief.

“You have Henderson as a brother and you don't know Lord of the Rings?” 

“Oh, that’s those books that read like textbooks, right?”

“Read like- Jesus Christ, I might have to rethink this whole situation,” he says to himself.

“Sorry,” you laugh, “I don’t have much time for reading. So, when I do, if it's not simple and to the point, I can't get into it.”

“Lord of the Rings is art. It’s a painting on paper.”

“Aren’t all paintings on paper?”

“Canvas,” he corrects, “you’re makin’ me feel real smart today.”

“Glad I can be of service,” you say sarcastically. 

“Seriously, though. That’s like… my favorite thing other than D&D and music,” his voice is more tender, more serious.

And you, he thinks. It’s far too early to admit that. Doesn't mean he doesn't feel that way, though.

“Maybe I can give it another go,” you shrug.

Eddie throws a soft smile your way. You hold onto the warmth it fills you with for as long as you can. Eddie ends up staying the night, which isn't much of a surprise. It was clear he was expecting it because he brought his D&D bag with him. It did make setting up the next day easier since he was already there. 

By the time Dustin shows up Eddie is all set up. You’re laying on the couch, Eddie is crouched beside you. His face is close to yours, a sly smile present. You’re busy giggling like a maniac at whatever he must have said. Dustin lets the screen door fall shut behind him. The sound of it slamming startles you and Eddie. 

“What’s going on?” Dustin asks suspiciously. 

Eddie smiles widely.

“Just telling Coleman here what’s in store for you guys today,” he says easily. 

Dustin visibly stiffens. He doesn't find this situation as amusing as the two of you seem to.

“Coleman,” Dustin states, eyes set on you.

You can see the hurt. It’s been so long since you've corrected someone on your last name. You didn't think about how the sudden change might make Dustin feel rejected.

“Yeah, y’know, their last name,” Eddie eggs the conversation on, unaware of the ugly feelings bubbling up.

“I know their last name, Eddie,” Dustin snaps. 

That clues Eddie into the sore nature of the subject. He glances apologetically between you and Dustin. 

“Dustin, don’t be rude,” you chide.

“You two were at each other’s throats the last time I saw you together and you’re telling me not to be rude?” 

“Well, we’re not at each other’s throats now. So, yeah, I am,” you begin catching Dustin’s own attitude. 

You sit up, causing Eddie to stand. 

“Whatever, it’s bullshit and you know it,” he rolls his eyes and throws his bag down next to the chair he usually occupies. 

“Excuse me, what’s bullshit?” You question and stand up.

Eddie is watching helplessly. He can't help but feel like he incited this situation. Dustin gestures widely at the air around you and Eddie.

“You telling me what to do. You guys are friends today, but tomorrow you’ll probably be fighting again. Isn't that how it goes with you?”

Any emotion falls from your face. Your hands shake a bit. You won't let them see you break. You won't derail their night. Besides, Dustin is right. You and Eddie are good now, but you like to blow up all the good things in your life. Ever since your father died, the idea that anything good may be permanent feels more like a pipe dream. It’s easier to discard good things before good things discard you.

“Yeah, it is. I’m going to be in my room. Have fun with your campaign,” you mumble and storm past him to your room.

The door doesn't slam. It clicks shut calmly, which is scarier. Eddie rounds on Dustin. 

“What the fuck is your problem, Henderson?” he demands.

“I don't have a problem.”

“You wanna talk about bullshit? What is it? Am I not good enough-”

“Eddie, you know that’s not it.”

“Then what is it?”

Dustin takes a second. He sighs, closing his eyes, and then opening them once more.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

The waver in Dustin’s voice throws Eddie off. His features soften as he looks at Dustin. Guilt washes over him. Sure, Dustin might be younger and Eddie might see him as a protege, or a younger brother, but he’s still one of Eddie’s best friends. Fuck, this was really shitty of him. He should have told Dustin he’s into you, regardless of how obvious it was. He should have told him you two have hooked up and are seeing where things go. Maybe not official, but exclusive. Instead, he acted like it didn't matter. Like it didn't matter that he’s seeing his best friend’s older sibling. Eddie runs an anxious hand over his face, stopping at his chin to hold it in thought.

“I’m really sorry, Dustin,” is all he can say in the end.

“I don't want an apology. I want an answer. I asked you so many times, Eddie. Every time you just dismissed me. I’m not stupid! And I don’t care! I’m happy for you, for both of you. I just… I just really wish you told me.”

Eddie takes a shaky breath. Dustin's words fall heavy on his shoulders. They're a weight he can tell he’ll be carrying for a while. 

“I should’ve. I was afraid of what you'd think. What you’d say. It’s not an excuse, I know, but… I dunno I think this is real, man. It feels real.”

Dustin does what Eddie thought he may never do again. He hugs him. It takes Eddie a second to register, but once he does he hugs back tight. He’s hopeful when they separate. 

“I think it’s great. Seriously, you both look really happy. But if you hurt them, Eddie, I’ll get Steve to beat you up.”

Eddie nods with wide eyes.

“Understood.”

“Okay, I have to go apologize,” Dustin sighs. 

Eddie watches him disappear to your room. Mike and Will come strolling in. Eddie thanks whatever is out there that they showed after all that. 

***

“So, we’ve been doin’ this a while now,” Eddie says, head lolling over to look at you.

You’re in your bed, fully clothed. These nights are Eddie’s favorite. Together in bed for the sake of being together in bed and nothing else. Eddie’s hair is splayed out behind him. The singular telephone pole light outside exposes the blush on his cheeks. It makes you smile. You like that you do that to him. 

“I s’pose we have,” your voice is soft and quiet.

“D’you maybe wanna make this an official thing?” 

He looks shy, nervous. It’s adorable. 

“I’d love to be an official thing with you.”

“Metal,” he breathes with a smile.

You chuckle and press a joyful kiss on his lips. When you pull away Eddie can tell you have an idea. Your smile gets this funny little quirk when you get an idea.

“Since we’re an official thing, I guess you should formally meet my father,” you try to sound serious.

Pure confusion crosses Eddie’s face. You gesture to the set up on your dresser. A small urn and some photos. Understanding and then mischief lights up his face. He hops out of bed and stands before the dresser. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Eddie says and bows as if addressing a king. 

You let out a little laugh. Then he’s staring tenderly at the photos. One from your third birthday. You're on your father’s lap covered in cake. Another is from one of the times he took you fishing. You’re around six in that particular photo. The final photo shows you at eight. Your father looks so much older despite it only being a few years. He’s paler, thinner, and more tired looking. You’re tucked into bed with him, asleep. Eddie can only assume it's the last photo you took with him. 

“You were a cute kid,” he comments adoringly and jumps back into bed.

“What, I’m not cute now?” you tease.

“No, you're unreal now, remember,” he smiles.

You chuckle.

“You’re unreal too, Munson.”

One thing’s for sure, Eddie was right. This official thing is definitely real and it’s definitely it for both of you. 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic

[charliesgoodboy]

𝟮𝟬𝟭𝟬. 𝗕. 𝗞𝗔𝗨𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗭

ᴜꜱᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀ ᴛᴏ

𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚎𝚊

ke$ha⭐

𝓼𝔂𝓹𝓷𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓼: Jesus, since when did bill get so big and grown up? you could have sworn you bought him when he was so little..

𝓰𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻: male

𝓯𝓲𝓬 𝓽𝔂𝓹𝓮: fic + headcanon(?)

𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼: male leaning reader(GIRLS??? I WANNA SEE MEN), bills half snake/hybrid bill, mating season(felt so wrong typing that out), breeding kink(talks of impregnation, mating press), cream pie(wtf bro) double penetration(reptiles have two dicks), clingy bill, marking, reader almost dies cause of bills big ass tail, bro how would you feel if a fat ass snake slept with you in your bed, bill keeps smelling you n shi idk, bill got nipple piercings, google translated german(thats how you know this is booty), belly bulge(?) i don't know

𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗵𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗺𝗲𝗹𝘁 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗰𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗲.

the smell of other people all over you it was so nasty, he would never keep his hands from you the moment you'd step in and remove your shoes. the slithering lower half of his would be quick before he'd tower over you— and tightly wrap himself just to make you smell like him home. the strong musk like smell would cover all over your body, getting all over your current clothes and God did he hate when you washed them.

why would you wash what he just worked so hard to put on you? how insensitive could you truly be. he'd like it when you would buy him a shirt or sweater to wear though, "i don't need it." but he would always trick you into wearing it right after him so he could linger onto you longer as he would cling to your body and not let go. clingy bastard.

why would you always speak of others? could you not see the clear annoyance plastered onto his face? "today at work my friend had..bill? you listening?" "no." well it was rude, the only point he'd let you carry on was to the sound of your pretty voice.

he really liked your voice, the way your small whimpers would strain into breathy moans was really his favorite part, when your hands would mindlessly search for his to grab while your back would arch from the damp sheets below the two of you— it was was all he'd think of. "oh fuck..! bill, stop i really can't.." "shh, that smell is still on you— Scheiße, i want it off." the end of his scaley tail would curve around the girth of your length, the slimy feeling spreading slick all over your cock and each time you'd be close he'd taunt you so so much. "why should i let you? you practically hooked with someone else being too close to them..hold it "

he enjoyed cock warming with you. it was a time to where the both of you could be vulnerable to one another. a useless TV show would play into the backround, only one out of two dicks had been plunged inside of you and the other was wet rubbing between your thighs while you would pathetically rub your member together with his, all the while softly riding him at the same time it was a sight to see..your tongue would lick lewdly at his nipple, watching as it perked and as the golden piercing would be filled with saliva.

as clingy as he was especially in the mornings, you'd never have had to call off from it. it was weird, he seriously wouldn't let go of you and he was squeezing so tightly you almost couldn't breathe. "stay..stay, stay, please stay." his pelvis would rub to yours, his hips harshly pressing onto the front of your shorts. bodies hot, sticky, and sweaty, bills mouth would slobber all over your body quickly, his teeth pricking your sensitive flesh leaving little dots of blood along with the big bite marks tattered from your neck and down.

the small possesive mutters of his wouldn't go unheard by you, his fingers scratching at you tightly as if you'd leave with every movement you would make but it wasn't like you could leave he had full control of your body. you could take two couldn't you though? it wasn't that hard, he just had to make it fit and it would fit he needed to go all the way with you or he would get worse. he just needed to feel your warmth so tightly, the tensing of your body as he would barely inch in he would rush.

"i'll fill you s'good, filled with all of me.." the slit muscle in his mouth would slide past his bottom lip, watching as you'd writhe and twitch— and jolt uncontrollably as the penetration was so new to you. the quick thrusts as he'd hiss close to your ear, your moans and words giving him such affirmination. "bill, bill, oh! bill it's too much— 'm already so close..." the watery look in your lovely eyes was so pleasuring to him, a smile curving at the tip of his lip as his pointy fang would show through.

the curve of his dicks would press right where you wanted, a new set of seed all over your stomach as he wouldn't make you hold it in this time. but the two of you weren't finished; "mmh..uh-uh, i'm not done..it isn't fair you get to cum so much yet i haven't. i meant what i said." what was he talking about! poor you..breathing all heavy and uneven you couldn't even remember your own name, only taking in the outline of how big he felt inside of you, stretching you all out.

the way you looked so dazed when he was finally finished with you, your legs trembling so much as he came so much in you it would ooze right between your thighs and down to the newly clean sheets you just washed. his palm pressing to your filled up stomach, the bulging feeling of him in you and you could already feel it, what was he reminding you for? "feel that?" he would say, "i got you so full, i know you can feel me so deep huh?"

he was so damn proud of himself.

tagging♡: @tokio-motel @cherry-rawr @evieskiesss @itsmealaiah @20doozers @iloveandlivetokiohotel

a/n: so yall want a fem version of this??? lmk if u do😊 chat the plot WILL NOT be the exact same or just replaced genitals, that's BORING ill js think of a diff plot

#tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel smut #tom kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel fluff #gustav tokio hotel #gustav x reader #bill kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz fluff #bill kaulitz fic #tokio hotel bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz #georg listing x reader #georg listing smut #tokio hotel georg #georg listing #gustav schafer smut #tokio hotel gustav #gustav schäfer #gustav schafer x reader #gustav schafer fluff #tom kaulitz fic #tom kaulitz 2010 #tom kaulitz tokio hotel #tokio hotel tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz

[mockerycrow]

Some more things on Johnny as a werewolf because my little good boy deserves more headcanons

Transforming isn't necessarily painful; But it's really uncomfortable. It feels like his skin is stretching out, his muscles feel like they're detaching from his bones, only to stick themselves back on again, his face doesn't bring him pain, bit it doesn't feel like his...

Once he's done going through the motions, which usually takes an hour, he has full consciousness, which is both a blessing and a curse.

On the one hand, his senses are heightened, meaning he just knows stuff he couldn't learn before. He sees little scars on people, details even the person themselves didn't know, he remembers their scent to a T, and just by being around someone, he knows exactly who they are. He hears things he couldn't before, so sneaking around him isn't an option.

But, on the other, now that his hearing is 10 times better, every noise makes him jumpy, and if he has to be subjected to high-pitched noise, he can't stand it. He can smell smells very well, which means that if an odour is only slightly unpleasant it's an acrid stench to him;

Another thing I think is that he doesn't succumb to instincts, BUT... he can't help himself when it comes to fetch. He knows what he's doing, and he can stop it, but he just wants to play with his friends and s/o! And what better way to do it, than a classic game? So, imagine: This huge, grown-ass, 12 feet tall werewolf that can rip apart cars with his bare hands (or paws?), Sat on his ass Infront of you, tail wagging wildly while you hold a ball, filled with little holes from his teeth, drowned in slobber. Then you throw it, the bestest boy on the world playing fetch with you. It's surreal, but come on. Johnny knows he technically shouldn't like this, but he does anyway. It's a little embarrassing for him.

His fur is also like a dense carpet, straight and medium length, a dark brown. So fluffy. Perfect to hug. He's like an oversized poodle when you hug him, just so much soft floof to hug, it's so...

But during missions, while Johnny is transformed, he's a big threat. Bullets don't do anything to him, and with his heightened senses, strength and agility he can easily clear a base all by himself. Nothing can stop him, even metal doors, he can just open them right up or rip them to shreds. He's truly unstoppable by anything that isn't capable of telekinesis, so that's why Simon works so well in tandem with him, to protect him from such weaknesses and magic.

KAKFFKCKC WEREWOLF JOHNNY ME LOVE ME LOVVEE—have some little thoughts :P

-> I imagine that he gets overstimulated by his heightened senses sometimes. When he is safe, he tries to hide in a quiet, dark corner. Somewhere that won’t tear his eardrums apart, where he doesn’t want to vomit from so many smells. If he’s overstimulated on the field? He’s even worse—he’s borderline feral. He’s so desperate for all of the sensations, smells and noises to stop that he’s barely in control.

-> This man knows full well he will crush you by sitting in your lap, yet he still tries to, just like a lapdog would.

“Soap, jeSus, dude!— You’re heavy, get off..!”

-> Johnny throws himself to the floor and rolls onto his stomach often to show that’s he’s submitting and that he trusts you quite often; but that also means he’s shaking the floor, the whole damn building, even. Tongue out, panting, chest to the ceiling as he stares you down. He doesn’t want to admit it, but belly rubs feel good, too.

-> He loves when you pet him. Loves loves loves!!!

-> He can quite literally tear a human in half, yet he’ll let you examine his sharp canines if you wish to do so.

#call of duty #john soap mactavish x reader #soap #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #crow’s thoughts #werewolf!soap

[agirlwithbigdreamsforher]

Would you mind doing a one shot there Annie has a rough day like really rough 🥺 and andy does everything in his will power to make her comfortable including waking up in the middle of the night from back pain from the baby so he gives her a massage and the one thing leads to another and things get spicy 🥵 please 🥺🥹

I love this series please don’t ever stop! I’ll still support and read. Btw I’m a silent follower never really done this hope this message gets to you 👉🏼👈🏼

I can do that! I took me a while to answer cuz I had work to do.

ROUGH DAY

THE NANNY: ONE SHOT

A ROUGH DAY

Pairing: Andy Barber x Annie Johnson (OFC)

Summary: Annie is having a rough day and she take out her frustration with Andy.

Warnings: crying, cursing words, pregnancy syntoms, sex, Andy.

A/N: none.

Word count: 2109

Disclaimer: I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied, used, translated nor reposted anywhere else but here on this blog. Do not steal what you didn’t work for. Minors and ageless blank blogs don’t interact with me or my works. Reblogs and likes are always welcome. Thank you for reading this work of fiction.

GIFS not mine, you can find the credits in each gif :)

                                     ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

One of the things Andy never liked about Annie, (yes, believe it or not he doesn’t like things about her), was when she shut down because something bother her. She got moody and in general just stop talking. And no matter how many times Andy has told her he was there for her, she kept doing it.

Today was one of those days. Her maternity leave began 2 weeks ago and Annie woke up only to realize her belly had grown more. She had an early doctor’s appointment, she changed, stood in front of the mirror and she looked huge; she couldn’t even see her feet.

“Good morning, honey!” Andy said cheerfully as he walked in to get changed for the day. He had just showered, so a towel was the only thing on his body. Of course he looked good, Annie could see his abs because he was not carrying a child on his belly. Annie turned to see him with hate in her eyes. “Ok, no good morning then.” He got closer willing to give her a kiss but she just dodged him. “Alright… so, you want me to come with you to your doctor’s appointment?”

“No.”

“But what if the baby show us if it a girl or a boy?”

“Argh! That’s not gonna happen! If it hasn’t happened yet, it’s not going to happen now!”

“Hey, I haven’t done anything to you, I just asked a simple question there’s no need to be so bitchy!”

“Fuck you!”

Annie left the room, went downstairs and left. Jake walked into the room carrying his lunchbox and his backpack. Andy was sitting on the bed already putting his socks on.

“Mommy leave me.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take you to school.”

“She upset again?”

“It’s gonna be a long day, buddy.”

And it was. Lunch wasn’t any different. Annie didn’t cook and when Andy asked why she yelled at him and told him he had hands and he could cook himself. After that she went straight to their room and stayed there for the rest of the day.

Andy didn’t get near her until it was time for him to sleep. He walked into the room and saw his wife drifting off hugging her pregnancy pillow.

“Wanna talk?” Andy said cautiously but Annie ignored him completely and closed her eyes. “Good night.” He sighed, got himself comfortable and went to sleep.

It has been 3 hours since Andy turned off the tv and began snoring. Annie was fully awake, she was hungry and in so much pain. In fact she has been in pain from the moment she woke up. It was a small sting on her waist but now it was full pain. She turned and sat on the edge of the bed trying her best not to wake Andy up. She stood up, only to realize she couldn’t stand up straight.

“Jesus.” She put both her hands on the back of her waist and went downstairs to the kitchen to make something to eat and at least calm her hunger.

She grabbed everything to make a sandwich, sat on one of the stools and prepare her food. Once she was done she proceed to eat it. After she finished of course she got thirsty, but when she tried to reach for a glass a sharp pain hit right in her waist, sending some sort of electricity through her spine, her knees buckled and the scream that came out of her mouth was loud enough to wake up the entire neighborhood. She was in all fours on the floor when she heard the footsteps of Andy running down the stairs.

“Honey!” He rushed to the floor, “You ok?” Annie shook her head avoiding his sight, “Is it time?” She shook her head again, “Baby, talk to me.”

Annie turned to see him, cheeks covered in her tears, “My back hurts so bad.”

“Do you think you can sit on the floor?” She nodded and move to be sited against the counter. She took a deep breath and turned to see a very worried Andy. “I’ll help you get up. You think you can do that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Ok, I’m gonna sit behind you and help you stand.” He put himself between the counter and her. Put his arms under her armpits and made her stand.

“FUCK!” Annie yelled as she felt the pain again.

“I’m sorry.”

“It hurts real bad.”

“Where?”

“On my waist.” She lifted her top and pointed the area. “I’m too tired.”

Andy moved his hands under her very prominent belly and lifted it. Annie sighed in relief when she felt the weight being lifted off of her.

“That feels so good.”

“Yeah?” She nodded as she leaned against her husband’s chest. “Can you try to walk to the living room? I won’t let you go, I promise.”

“Yeah.” She gave two steps as Andy kept lifting her belly from behind her.

“Good, you’re doing so good, baby girl.” Annie waddled to the couch; her little penguin walk, as Andy called it, was heavier than the days before. Andy moved to be in front of her, took her hands and help her sat down on the couch. “Be right back, ok?”

Andy came back a couple of minutes later, carrying a warm towel and some baby oil. She noticed how Annie was drifting off again.

“Honey?” She opened her eyes, “How long have you not been sleeping properly?”

“A week.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Cuz you’re tired too! You still have to go to work!”

“Honey,” He sat next to her, “We are in this together, if you are not sleeping you need to tell me.” Annie didn’t say anything, “I hate when you don’t tell me what’s wrong. When did the pain start?” Andy move her shirt up and placed the warm towel on her waist. The heat began to bring comfort to her muscles.

“This morning. I thought it’ll go away. I thought it was because I slept in a wrong position, but then the doctor said it was because of the baby weight. To be honest I’m so uncomfortable lately, I want this to be over and it makes me feels like I’m a horrible woman because everyone says I should enjoy my pregnancy but I feel so fucked up!”

“Well, all of those people can go fuck themselves, ok?” Annie smiled to that, “If you are miserable, it’s fine!” Andy moved on the couch to be behind her, “Now, you think if I give you a massage the pain will go away?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

“Let’s figure it out,” Andy put some baby oil on the pal of his hand, “lift the back of your shirt and hold it there.” Andy’s finger began to rub gently above the towel. His long fingers went from her waist, across her spine and to her ribs.

“I’m sorry I was a bitch today to you.”

“It’s ok, you were in pain.” He removed the towel and began rubbing on the waist.

“Oh god! That feels so good!” She leaned to the front as Andy kept rubbing.

It wasn’t long before Andy fingers went under her sleeping shorts touching her butt cheeks.

“You have like a bump here.” Andy pressed one of his fingers on her left butt cheek.

“OW!”

“I think is your sciatic.” Andy rubbed harder and Annie winced, “Maybe if you take your short off I could…”

“How convenient.” Annie said and Andy laughed.

“I mean it, you want the pain go away or no?”

“Fine!” Annie stood up and pulled her shorts down, she was not wearing underwear. Andy put the towel on the couch and she sat on it. “hehe my ass is gonna be warm now.”

The massage continue for about 5 minutes and it helped a lot. She felt sore but not in pain anymore. Andy’s fingers were still rubbing softly on her back when she let herself fall against his chest, she turned to the side and smile at him.

“Thank you.” She leaned in and gave him a peck.

“You’re most welcome.” Andy kissed her back, softly at first, but then Annie put her hand on the nape of his head, mouths open and their tongues dancing. Andy’s oily fingers got under her shirt and to her breast.

“Mmmm.” Annie moaned against his lips when Andy pinched her nipples. Andy broke the kiss and move his lips to her neck.

“You need another kind of massage?” Andy asked her in a husky voice.

“Yes, please.”

“Ok, relaxed and open your legs.” Andy rested her back on his chest, bend her knees and opened her legs. Andy’s hand went south and using his middles and index finger rubbed softly her slit. “My, my, you already wet.” Andy moved his fingers up and down her slid without touching her clit. “What were you thinking while I was massaging you, naughty girl?”

“No…nothing.”

“Liar.” Andy nip her ear and his fingers rubbed her little button.

“Oh! Yes, there.” Andy moved his fingers to her entrance rubbing it as well making her whimper.

Andy couldn’t see her pussy but he could fell her.

“I bet she looks all pretty right now, wet and raw just for me.”

“Andy, please!”

“What’s wrong baby?”

“Can you put your fingers in me?”

“So polite, of course I can, but I won’t, not yet.”

“What? Why not?!”

“I wanna keep playing with her.”

“No, please, don’t tease me.”     

“No?” Andy rubbed her clit faster and then stopped. “Ok.”

“No! I was about to cum!”

“You say no teasing.”

“Andy, please!”

Andy stood up and kneel in front of the couch, dark lustful eyes staring down at her pussy.

“See, all pretty!” Andy didn’t give her a warning before he latch to her pussy like a starve man.

“FUCK!” Annie throw her head back. She could feel his lips sucking her clit and lapping at her hole. “Oh god! Yes!” He began to tongue fuck her. His warm tongue getting in and out of her wet entrance. Annie touched her boobs feeling her orgasm approached, “Yes! Just like that! Please, don’t stop!” Andy could feel her pulsing hole on his mouth. “ANDY!” her hands took a hold of his head and keept him on her pussy. A gush of liquid came out of her and directly to Andy’s face. “FFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!”

Andy’s tongue kept licking her pussy as Annie came down form her height. When he turned to see Annie his beard was drench.

“Oh my god. Andy, I’m sorry, I ‘ve never…”

“I know!” He kissed the top of her clit, “It was amazing.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah.” He stood up and throw his boxer briefs across the room. He stroke a couple of times, “you think you can do that again?”

“I… I don’t know.”

Andy climbed on the couch and help Annie to get on her side. He lifted her leg and position himself in her entrance.

“Let’s find out.” She was so wet Andy slid in easily. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good.”

 He gave no warning and he wasn’t in the mood of been soft with her. He pounded hard into her, his balls hitting on her ass. Annie’s moaned filled the silence, “You like that?”

“YES!”

“Whose pussy is this, huh?”

“YOURS! OH GOD!

“Damn right is mine.” Andy’s hand went to her clit and as he thrusted into her and rubbed it fast, “oh I can feel you squeezing me, baby.”

“Andy!” He didn’t stop, in fact he moved faster, “Please!”

“One more, baby. I know you can. Come on!” As soon as Andy said that she came again, her pussy contracted against his dick. “FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!” She milked her cock and he spilled his seed inside her. Andy took a deep breath and kissed the back of Annie’s head. “Do you think you can sleep now?”

But Annie didn’t answer. Andy moved to see her sleeping already, H laughed a bit but couldn’t blame her because he also felt exhausted. He stood, put his boxers back on, and took Annie in his arms to bring her back to their room.

By the time he walked into the room and placed Annie next to her pregnancy pillow the clock on his bed side table was marking 5:20 a.m.

“Maybe I should shower already.” He said softly.

“Don’t go to work.” Annie said in a sleepy voice. “Stay.”

Andy smiled, slid on his side of the bed and kissed Annie on the forehead “good night, honey.” One more kiss, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

#andy barber fanfic #andy barber #annie johnson #andy x annie #andy x reader #andy barber x reader #the nanny fic #andy barber fanfiction #the nanny au #andy and annie

[theglasscat]

20 Questions for Writers

Tagged by @jennyandvastraflint

I love these things because I love talking about fan-fic

1. How many works do you have on A03?

I have 45.

2. What is your A03 word count?

162, 874. Jesus only that?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Doctor Who but specifically The Paternoster Gange sub-fandom, Oz books, Steven Universe, The Owl House, The Dark Crystal extended universe. In high school I was really into Hellboy II.

4. What are your top 5 fics by Kudos?

1. In the Night We Trust ~ It was a week out from Eda's Requiem and I'm from SU fandom so I was shocked that there was yet to be smut about the two pining grown ass adults and apparently other fans felt this way too.

2. I Thought Maybe We Would Kiss Tonight ~ This one is also horny and about the same characters so the Kudos tracks.

3. Words - My Vastra/Jenny soulmate au. Good. I'm proud of this one.

4. Blankets ~ This one??? The first time I tried to write using my senses.

5. Courting Miss Flint ~ THIS ONE??? I had a crush on a friend in college and didn't know how to act on it. This story about violently anxious women is never going to be finished.

5. Do you respond to comments?

Sometimes, if there's enough to reply to. "Nice work!" I'll forget about probably even though I appreciate it, however "I like how you blah blah blah" will get something from me because I love talking process.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Uuuuhhhh. Of the ones I like, We Speak Our Vows and Sorry Whispers which is the Tavronica wedding fic.

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Blackberry Stone will be I just need to finish it I swear I will finish it

8. Do you get hate on fics?

If I have I am not aware of it. At the time of my life when it would have hurt me the most I was oblivious to it and now it's just like "whatever, I'm not in charge of other people's feelings". On a side note this morning I realized I react to the word "cringe" in much the same vein as those tiktoks about Americans unable to take British gangsters with any seriousness.

9. Do you write smut? If so which kind?

Yes but I don't post as much as I'd like. I don't like to post smut for the sake of it even if I love when others do. I need it to be in character and have something to say about the characters.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest crossover you've ever written?

In general I despise reading crossovers. I will almost always skip unless I really like the author or I'm desperate for more of a character or rare pair.

By most insane do you mean meticulous like my Gentleman Jack/Doctor Who crossover "Never Meet Your Heroes" in which BBC's singular blue waistcoat for leading Victorian lesbians gets referenced?

Or least likely to crossover as in Wonder Woman 2017 and Pat Gang fic in which Etta gets some sword advice from some local spinsters on the eve of The Great War. It's called "Protect it With Your Life".

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of, but I wouldn't be surprised if my work has been farmed to sit in the belly of some great AI beast somewhere.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I'm aware of. If it has I can't think of the example at the moment.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No but I feel if I did I would just tweak the co-author's grammar and characterization and do nothing else. I take so long to write my own fic, I couldn't be accountable to handle another's work in a timely fashion.

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

AU Dorzma. The rest are tardigrades being subjected to various violent science experiments.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Vastra/Jenny laundromat AU. I'm better at Victorian commentary than contemporary commentary.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Sensory writing. Keeping things in character.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Starting with a plot instead of a feeling

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I don't do this really but I'm a fan of using the << >>

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Coin toss for the original Oz books or Syfy's Tin Man (2007) when I was 13. Both were Scarecrow/Patchwork Girl.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

I Keep My Hands, 'Til You Come Into the Water ~ Missing Tavra and Onica and Tae scenes from J.M. Lee's The Dark Crystal Flames of Resistance which is so hyper specific but this is the one I like the most. It came out as I envisioned and wanted it with hardly any typos.

Tagging: @jeejyboard @ragdoll-ren @leiathewarrior @spaceuber @nabatute and anyone else who'd like to do this and of course you don't have to if you don't want to.

#long post #my fic

[mrs-gucci]

Spread ‘Em Wide {Clyde Logan x pregnant!Reader}

author’s notes: hellooo! happy memorial day everyone :) I’m so soft for Clyde and his pregnant girl...but I’m also horny. so, this is the resulting fic lol

**this is part of the Clyde & Pumpkin AU**

warnings: smut. fluff. literally just smut. error: plot not found. pregnancy/belly kink. some breeding kink (v light, though). use of a clit vibrator. a dash of dirty talk. 

(possible) tw’s: pregnancy.

“Oh pumpkin, oh honey…” Clyde sighs, kissing your lips as his hands gently hold your hips, pulling you further onto his lap. 

You whine softly into his mouth, already feeling your panties soaking. Pregnancy hormones were no joke, you’ve discovered, especially in the second trimester when you began showing. 

Luckily, Clyde is always ready and willing to help you out with your sudden feelings of intense horniness.

“Ye look so pretty, so fuckin’ beautiful all swollen like this.” He moans, hips pressing up against you. “Love havin’ ya on top of me, pressin’ yer big belly on me, pumpkin.”

You bite your lip, looking down at your handsome husband with lust-blown eyes. “Yeah? You like seeing me pregnant?”

“Shit, oh god, y-yeah.”

His cock throbs beneath his jeans and he groans, nodding eagerly, beard gently scratching your neck as he kisses and nips your skin.

Your hands run through his hair as he continues his assault on your neck, covering seemingly every inch of it with kisses.

“Wanna put ‘nother one in ye, pumpkin, keep ya swollen ‘s long as I can.” His hips buck up gently as he nips your collarbones. “Love burying my cum in ya.”

You moan softly as he pulls your shirt up over your head, licking his lips when his eyes come in contact with your breasts. You’ve grown two sizes during the pregnancy, and you practically spill out of every bra you own now, even if you buy the correct size.

Clyde loves it, though, and his mouth instantly gets to work on the exposed mounds poking out the top of the cups. “Jesus, I love these tits so fuckin’ much, love seein ‘em spill out of yer bra. So big, so full...fuck.”

“P-Please.” You whine, starting to bounce lightly up and down on him. “I’m ready for you, wanna ride your big fat cock, Clyde.”

He growls, holding your hips still.

“So eager, hm? I think I wanna take ye from behind today, pumpkin, get real far inside ye so that I can put my cum in nice n’ deep.”

The prospect makes you shudder with excitement. “Where do y-you want me?”

His lips curl up into a small smirk and he leans forward, mouthing at your earlobe, breath hot.

“Go on upstairs n’ bend yourself over on the bed. Take these leggin’s off, hold onto the headboard, n’ spread yer legs nice n’ wide for me. Can ye do that, pumpkin?”

You quickly nod and get up off his lap, walking upstairs as fast as was possible with a pregnant belly. Your leggings are all but torn off, with a bit of maneuvering of course, before you take your position on the bed. 

Clyde comes up a minute later, groaning softly as he sees you fully naked and bent over just as he’d asked. He quickly sheds his clothes and strokes himself as he walks up beside you, spreading your lips with his prosthetic, extra careful as your glistening folds are exposed. 

He suddenly gets an idea, pulling away and walking over to the closet, pulling out one of your favorite clit vibrators. He puts a dot of lube on the toy before turning to the lowest setting, setting it gently on your sensitive nub.

The way you gasp and your hips instinctively roll down against it makes Clyde throb in his palm.

“Yeah, yer pussy loves this lil thing, huh pumpkin?”

You nod, biting your lip as your hips grind roughly and desperately down onto the small toy. You’re sweating with the effort, quickly reaching the edge of orgasm. He couldn’t believe how quickly you’d reached this point.

“G-Gon--gonna fucking c-cum, baby.”

When Clyde senses you’re about to orgasm, he clicks the button, turning it up a setting. Your eyes fly open and you cry out as an intense and sudden climax hits. 

“Fuck, oh god, C-Clyde!”

The headboard bangs on the wall as your hips buck and squirm against the vibrations, enjoying the delicious pressure and subtle pain of overstimulation.

As soon as you’re finished, he turns off the toy and tosses it onto his pile of clothes, quickly mounting the mattress behind you. He rubs his cockhead through your slick, moaning softly when he feels how much has come along with your orgasm before lining up with your entrance.

“Ya ready, pumpkin?”

You nod, and he holds your hips as he pushes forward, sheathing himself fully inside you with a long, drawn out growl.

“Lord...j-jesus christ, Y/N.”

Your hands tighten against the beam of the headboard as your body begins rocking back and forth with each snap of your husband’s skilled hips. 

“O-Oh, Clyde, baby…”

“Goddamn lil pussy’s gon’ be the d-death o’ me, I s-swear.” He mumbles, fucking you a little faster. “Yer fuckin’ soaked, pumpkin, so wet fer my c-cock.”

The whole bed squeaks and creaks against the hardwood as Clyde fucks you harder, the sound of skin slapping bouncing off the walls.

“Y-Yes, baby, yes!” You cry when he begins stroking that one special spot inside of you. “Right there, oh yeah honey, right f-fucking there!”

Clyde absolutely loves it when you make lots of noise for him, because he knows it’s all genuine. That’s one thing you told him right off the bat when you first met ten years ago, that you’d never, ever fake sexual noises or releases. And you never did.

His strokes speed up and he switches the position of his thrusts a bit so that he’s now coming up a bit underneath you. This allowed him to fully rub against your g-spot while also continuing the deep penetration that comes with the doggy-style position.

You’re seeing stars as you cum for the second time that evening, tears burning in your eyes as you cry out again with orgasm. Your walls grip him tightly and spasm around him, hips jerking randomly as you ride out your climax.

He cums not too long after you, good hand reaching up to grip your shoulder as he ruts his hips erratically, cock buried as deeply inside you as it can while rope after rope of thick seed spurts into your cunt.

“Fuck, p-pumpkin, take it all inside ye. That’s--ohhhh--that’s right, ma g-good girl, ma good lil w-wife.”

It’s already pouring out of you even before Clyde pulls out, dripping down your thighs and even some onto the bedding below. He always has really big loads, which at first he was embarrassed by, but you quickly showed him how much you loved it when he made a mess of you.

Both of you are catching your breath as Clyde slides out of you, then gets up to grab a warm washcloth. He wipes your folds gently, planting a soft kiss on your oversensitive clit before wiping up your thighs, nonchalantly tossing the used cloth aside before laying down. He has a hand on your back the entire time you gently lay down onto the bed, pulling you close once you’re down comfortably. 

His textured fingertips lightly trace random patterns on your swollen stomach, laughing softly to himself when the baby starts kicking. You laugh, too, your fingers playing with his raven waves.

“She knows her daddy already.” You say with a smile.

Clyde beams with pride, scooting down so that his face can be nice and close to your stomach.

“Hey there, lil peach. Yer mom ‘n me are real excited to meet ya in a few months, an’ so are yer aunt and uncle. You’re already so loved, peach, yer not gon’ know what to do with all of it when ya finally get here.”

You both laugh softly, and your eyes fill up with tears as you rub the back of Clyde’s head. He kisses your bump, hand still rubbing it, before sliding back up to kiss you on the lips.

“Yer amazin’, ya know that? Givin’ me a daughter, carryin’ her fer me...I’ll never be able to repay ya in this lifetime, but I’ll do my damndest.” He smiles, kissing you again. “I love ya so damn much, Y/N, ma beautiful wife ‘n momma of m’ daughter.”

Tears are beginning to dribble down your cheeks, feeling so overwhelmed with love at this moment. You’re sure that you’ll never get used to Clyde’s love and appreciation for you, but you still treasure it very, very much.

You nuzzle your nose against his, unable to wipe the smile from your expression.

“I love you more, Clyde.”

#adamdriverwriter #adcu author #adcu writer #adam driver #adam driver character #adam driver smut #adam driver fluff #clyde logan #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan x you #clyde logan x reader smut #clyde logan x you smut #tw: pregnancy #cw: pregnancy #clyde logan smut #clyde x reader #clyde logan fluff #clyde & pumpkin au

[justkending]

Noisy Neighbors, Drabble Series. (2/2)

Summary: Bucky Barnes is that loud neighbor you want to scream your head off at for throwing all kinds of parties what feels like year round. But in doing so, you somehow got a free coffee date out of it...

Pairing: (college neighbor) Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3000+

A/N: I had a sweet follower @blessedwedgie​ ask me if I can write a continuation of this drabble I did a while back and at first I was like, “What do I do? Where would I want that to go? How would I continue that in a way that would be cute?” Then I was at work being bored as hell, but had a pen and paper and well... Here we are! I hope I did it justice friend:) This was really fun to write and I want all the cuteness that is College Bucky Barnes in my life honestly!

Here is part one if you haven’t read it yet. 

Noisy Neighbors Part 2:

The only reason you really agreed to coffee with the handsome neighbor was because your morning class had been canceled and you didn’t have another until later that afternoon. Of course there was the free coffee too… Ok, maybe his stupid handsome face had something to do with you leaning to say yes. 

He was persistent.

So at 9:55 the next morning, you threw on a pair of real pants and a jean jacket over your sweater and ran a hand through your hair as you grabbed your keys by the front door. 

“I’ll be back later Wands!” you shouted back down the hallway. No response. She was probably sleeping after pulling an all nighter for a test today. “I’ll be bringing you back some coffee too, I guess,” you laughed to yourself as you went to open the door. 

But you were startled to open it and immediately see those familiar piercing blue eyes.

“Jesus-” you jutted as you threw your hand over your chest in surprise. 

“Sorry,” he laughed as he took in your reaction. “I literally just stepped in front of your door.”

“You sure you haven’t been waiting out here since last night?” you smirked, stepping out and locking it. 

“Now, I did say I was persistent, but I think I deserve a coffee and a little more than small talk before I decide if you’re stalking material,” he shrugged, watching as you turned back to him. 

“I like to think I’m stalking material,” you played along, getting a laugh out of him. “Though, doesn’t mean I’d actually liked to be stalked.”

“Ladies and gentleman, she’s got the jokes,” Bucky announced as you walked side by side to leave the apartment building. 

“Just to be safe, you’re not some charming Teddy Bundy 2.0, are you? Cause if that’s the case, I don’t think this is going to work out,” you joked, sending him a smile before tucking your hands in your coat about to bare the cold outside. 

“So you think I’m charming?” Bucky jeered. 

“Don’t get cocky there, Cavanosa. I’m still trying to decide if I’ll ever answer my door again if you knock,” you pointed at him as he opened the door for you. 

“I’m wounded, Y/N,” he faked hurt, but inside he was just gitty to know your name now and be able to say it. 

“Buy me that coffee, and you’ll have a better chance, soldier.”

_____________

You went to the coffee shop on campus and the little coffee date went surprisingly well. You talked about school, learning Bucky was a forensics major and hoped to go to Quantico at some point. He said he always had a gift and interest in crime scenes and murder mysteries growing up. He liked being able to solve it before the characters on shows did or the narrator gave it away. 

To which you countered with, “So you would be a certified stalker with a badge? Interesting…”

That got a big belly laugh out of him which you couldn’t seem to help but join him after hearing such a sweet sound.

You talked about how you’re going into Psychology, and actually were interested in a similar field of forensics. You had always loved the psychoanalyzing of people and situations. So naturally, you were looking into being a Forensic Psychologist. 

He asked why he hadn’t had any classes with you yet considering it was both your senior years. Then you explained to him how you had just transferred for this last semester because of better professors and a scholarship opportunity you wanted to take advantage of before graduation. 

It turned out that you both were taking one of the same classes, but just had it at different times. Same professor though. 

After the obligated ‘college talk’, you both got into; where you grew up, where you plan to go, what are your hobbies, what do you do in your free time if you weren’t studying. Which you had already known Bucky’s was throwing parties that irked you to no end. 

“Yeah, I’ll cut back on those. I’ve been getting behind in school and it’s starting to affect my grades,” he pursed his lips in embarrassment. “Dr. Cassel’s class especially. Damn man has a 3 page essay due what feels like every night!”

Dr. Cassel being the professor that you shared.

“Eh, it’s not fun, but if you get ahead a little and do the readings, it’s not that bad,” you shrugged, taking a sip of the hot cup of tea that you told him you preferred instead of coffee on days like this with the weather. 

“Easy to say for a nerd who likes to read,” he smirked taking a drink from his own cup as he looked over the brim of it at you.

“Excuse me sir, I thought you were trying to get on my good side here,” you gasped. “Calling me a nerd isn’t going to do that for you.”

“I’m kidding. I’m kidding,” he laughed. “You actually kinda remind me of Steve. He’s a bookworm like you and the goody two shoes who’s always on top of things.”

“He didn’t seem like that at the party the other night,” you tilted your head. 

“Oh, yeah. I may or may not have finally had convinced him to join in on the fun. He’s always holed up in his room studying or reading something, which I’m sure you understand,” he winked getting an eye roll from you. “But every once and a while I can get him to cross over to the dark side for a night.”

“School’s important for me. It’s taken a lot to get here and I don’t want to mess it up,” you explained. Your face going a little more serious as if there was more behind that fact than you were letting on. Bucky toned his joking down some at change. “Plus, it’s my senior year. One more semester of this and I’m home free. That is until I start job searching and that’s a whole other step,” you shook your head looking down at your drink. 

“Have you ever gone to a party during college?” Bucky asked. “You know, do the whole college experience thing?”

You looked up seeing he was genuinely curious. 

“Uh, yeah. I went to one or two with my old boyfriend at the other school I went to. They weren’t more than just a bunch of frat boys and girls getting plastered and making out in random spots around the house, while the rest were listening to loud music and standing elbow to elbow in a crowded rent house off campus.”

“Very specific scenario there,” he chuckled, lightening the mood. “I take it you and your boyfriend aren’t together anymore?” His question did not meet your eye line as he stirred the dash of creamer he had to his drink. 

“No, that would mean he would be my current boyfriend, not old,” you laughed. “That and I probably wouldn’t have said yes to coffee if I was dating someone.”

“Right, because this is a date,” he noted as he looked back at you with that cocky grin. 

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you smirked back. 

“You did say it in the text. You said, ‘sounds like a date,’” he pointed out. 

“But do all coffee dates mean actual dates or just meeting up to talk over coffee?” you countered. 

“Would I get in trouble if I said I’m hoping it’s the first one?” he asked with hopeful eyes. 

You paused for a second. God, he was cute. He was charming. But… You came here for your degree and you broke up with your last boyfriend because your schedule is too hectic and you’re trying to focus strictly on school. You didn’t have time for relationships. 

“I hate to break it to you, but I’m not really a part of the dating rehealm at the moment,” you said awkwardly. Bucky’s smile dropping some. “My schedule is just too chaotic to add another person to it, and I really need to focus on school.”

You could see disappointment on his face, but he was quick to wipe it off to not cause any more tense energy in the conversation. 

“I get it. You have your priorities in check. Can’t blame you for that,” he shrugged with a soft smile. “But now that I know you’re my neighbor, and I really like your whole persona. You won’t be mad if we became friends, would you?”

You giggled at that and his smile widened. “I think I can get on board with that.” His grin grew once again. “Besides, I may need to copy your notes for class, so I guess it’d be useful to get along with you,” you exaggerated as if it was so much to do on your end. 

“If anyone’s copying notes here, it’ll be me, doll. I’m the one failing,” he said with a raised eyebrow as he took another sip of his drink, 

You two continued talking for a while with another cup of coffee was purchased. Strangely enough the annoying neighbor that you had grown to despise, had surprised you in being a pretty nice guy. It was like you two had been friends since high school with how comfortable and snarky you guys were with the other. And it didn’t hurt to look at him either…

Eventually you headed off to your afternoon class and Bucky headed home being lucky enough not to have any classes all day. He offered to walk you to the class, but with it being as cold as it was, you didn’t want to inconvenience him by walking you there and then all the way back to the apartments. It wasn’t a short walk. 

He obliged after much persuasion on your end and you went your separate ways. 

As the weeks went on, you started to see more of your neighbors. Steve sat with you in Child Psychology now knowing you a little better, and Bucky somehow always was in the hallway at the same time as you or was bumping into you at the forensics building occasionally. 

The neighbors had become friends and Wanda was just happy to not hear you complaining anymore about the two that shared your wall. That and the parties had practically ceased now. Considering what Bucky said about being behind in classes, you suspected he was trying to cut back on his social time. 

As the semester went on, Bucky made it a priority to see you at least once a day if he could. Emphasis on the at least…

If that meant knocking on your door to walk to class, he jumped at the opportunity. 

“Hey, I’m headed to the library and I know you have that 12 o’clock class in the building over. Wanna just go together?” He grinned. 

“Can’t say no to a chauffeur,” you would smile back as you grabbed a beanie and walked out with him. 

If it meant somehow almost always making more food than he and Steve could eat, just to come over and offer you some, he would take the option. 

“Hey, I made some pasta tonight and had way too much for Steve and I. I thought I would ask if you and Wanda want some before I throw it out,” he smiled widely in your doorway. “What college student in their right mind would say no to a hot meal?” he winked.

“Not a sane one,” you chuckled as you took the platter. “You sure you don’t want them for leftovers?”

“Eh, we never get around to eating them most the time. You guys will enjoy it more than us. Plus, it’s better fresh,” he waved off. 

“Ok, if you insist. I guess I’ll have to bake you some of my famous brownies as a thank you.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Y/N. I will hold you to it.”

If it meant last minute study sessions for a class he forgot, he texted you a long message begging you to help him out. 

“I know you took this class last semester, so you have to know something. And something is more than I know,” he said with a wrinkled nose once he was in your room. 

“What part of the unit are you in?” you sighed from your desk as you put your now finished work to the side for him. 

“Personality disorders common in serial murders.”

“Oh, that’s the fun stuff. Why wouldn't you want to learn about that?” you gasped, going to sit right next to him on your bed. 

But honestly, he wasn’t worried about the chapter. He had actually read it before coming over to surprise you in his knowledge when he acted like he was lost. He just liked when you sat close to him and went on a rant when you came up on something that triggered a murder documentary you watched. That’s how he hooked you into letting him stay longer. 

“Wait, so the movie was about a serial killer who ended up having multiple personality disorder? He didn’t know he was doing the killings?” he asked. 

“How have you not seen it? It’s a classic!” you questioned in surprise. 

“I don’t know… Tell me more about it,” he grinned as you went on. 

Oh, and he had seen it. It was a good movie. 

If it meant he somehow got ‘locked out of his apartment and couldn’t get in until Steve was home’, he made the excuse to sit outside your door until you were home. 

“I left my key inside by accident today. Any chance you’ll let a loner like me hang out with you for a little until blondie gets home?” he batted his eyelashes as he leaned against your door. 

“This is the second time this week, Bucky. And the fourth time since last week. Do I need to sew the damn things to you?” you laughed opening your apartment to him. 

“I’ll pass on that. I would prefer to just hang out with you instead,” he shrugged, closing the door behind him. 

“You sure you left your keys by accident?” you asked with a pointed eyebrow as you took off your jacket. 

“Cross my heart,” he said, doing the motion. 

“Yeah, sure. Wanna put a pot of coffee on while I change?” you asked, already moving to your room. He had been over enough by now from study sessions and ‘accidental lockouts’ to know how to work your machine. 

“Already on it,” he hummed walking to the kitchen. “Want me to make you a cup?”

“Dash of cream and-”

“Two sugars! I know,” he shouted back, smiling as he moved in your kitchen to grab the mugs. 

And if it meant never throwing another party again, and instead asking you to come over to his place and watch a movie instead, he moved his schedule around for you. 

“Hey, what do you say to a movie date?” he asked as you walked back from class and nudged you with his elbow. 

“A movie night sounds nice,” you responded, emphasizing on night instead of date. 

“I didn’t say night,” he would point out. 

“I know. I figured I would correct you on your slip up. Don’t worry, it happens to the best of us. Words are hard,” you teased, nudging him back. 

Though he knew you would never fall for his little tricks, he always implemented date into a lot of his questions about you two hanging out. It had become a little game between you both. 

“Study date tonight before Cassel’s test?” He asked as you grabbed your mail together. 

“Study session? Yeah, sure,” you corrected. 

“Hey, want to come over for a dinner date? Steve and I are making homemade pizza. You and Wanda are welcome!” he offered. 

“I’d love to have a pizza party with you guys. I’ll text Wanda and see what her plans are,” you giggled, hip bumping him walking up the stairs. 

“Hey, what do you say to an impromptu date to the baseball game tonight? We’re playing against our school's top rival,” He smiled as you both grabbed your coffee from the barista. 

“Oh yeah! I heard that was tonight. Eh, how do you feel about a movie night instead?” you shrugged. 

“Movie date?” he seconded. 

“Yeah, a movie night,” you emphasized. 

Conversations like that went on all semester. You were finding that whatever time you weren’t spending in class or at work, it was next to Bucky. The two of you becoming a couple of best friends attached to the hip. 

It was nice. You enjoyed it. And though, you knew deep down that he probably meant all those things being a date and hoped for it, you were glad he didn’t press on when you changed the meaning. He understood where you stood and he wasn’t going to pressure you for anything different if you didn’t want to. 

And now, it was time for graduation. You, Steve, Wanda, Wanda’s boyfriend Vis, and Bucky all stood in your gowns taking pictures with your temporary degree in hand outside the college stadium. You had all finally finished. With a lot of all nighters, stress relief movie nights, and much needed pizza parties, you had graduated. 

You didn’t plan on getting two new really good friends out of it as your mind had always been school, school, school. No time for a social life and distractions. 

But boy were you glad you had hit a breaking point the night you banged on their door. If you hadn’t, you would have probably never created the very close relationship with the blue eyed, brown hair, crazy flirtatious, but charming neighbor. 

“Hey, since we graduated and we finished the damn thing, how do you feel about a date?” Bucky asked turning to you after Wanda snapped a picture of you both.

“I didn’t hear movie, study, or pizza in front of that word. What kinda date are we talking about?” you asked as he kept his arm wrapped around your waist from the pose you two were in. 

“I was thinking of a real date,” he smiled. 

His hand on your hip giving a gently, but firm squeeze as his eye practically suffocated you with the ocean tides in them. 

“I think I can get behind that,” you grinned up at him, squeezing his shoulder. “A real date it is, Casanova.”

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose  @laneygthememequeen @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter @marvelfansworld @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan  @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @carls1022 @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @carls1022 @anise-d-castle6 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@morganclaire4 @chloe-skywalker @charmedbysarge @jbarness @bellamy-barnes​

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @heyiamthatbitch​ @lizzymacy555​ @iheartsebastianstan @srrymydood​ @xa-dia​ @redhairedfeistynerd​ @morganclaire4​ @connie326​ @captain-asguard​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​ @teenagedreams-bucky​

#bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes drabble series #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader drabble #bucky barnes college au #bucky barnes college #bucky barnes x reader college drabble #bucky barnes x reader college au #college au #marvel college au #mcu college au #justkending #bucky barnes

[midoriyas-wifey]

Round One, Fight!

Pairing: Midoriya x fem!reader

Rating: E

Words: 2.3k

Kinks: uhhh dom izuku and edging

Summary: Izuku edges reader a fuck ton i don’t really know what else to say except he’s a smug little bastard in this one. i blueballed myself writing and editing this 🥶

His warm, calloused hands ran down her sides, giving a slight tickle, while his face was deeply buried in the crook of her neck. She gave a silly giggle at the sensation.

"Something funny?" He purred, giving a firm nip to her neck, reveling in her gasp.

"No," she rasped, "I'm jus’ ticklish." He fully withdrew his head from her neck, mischief flashing in his green eyes. "Really?" He questioned, up to no good. Midoriya usually wasn’t the scheming type, but for his honey? He loved to do nothing more than tease and torment.

She eyed him with suspicion, familiar with his secret evil ways. His hands once again teasingly rubbed her tummy, earning a delicious squeak along with a squirm.

"Don't do that!" She squealed, her hands lightly on his broad, strong chest. "Have you forgotten that I'm the one in charge tonight?" He inquired with a quirk of his lips. Not giving her the chance to respond, he fully covered her swollen lips with his own, nipping and demanding entrance. He kissed the breath out of her, leaving her dizzy with pleasure. His silky tongue explored her mouth with purpose, before he drew out and surrounded her tongue with his lips; giving a sloppy suck. Both the lewd noise and sensation caused a zing of heat down low into her belly and cunt. Only she knew of his passionate affections, and he hers.

Never before had any kiss felt so good. His hands gripped onto her beautiful hair, urging her closer to him. He pulled back, soothing her raw, kiss swollen lips with gentle pecks. He gave a pleased hum at the glazed, hungry look in her eyes. She licked her lips, desire for more burning low in her belly. Whilst she was occupied by her thoughts, his hands snaked up the back of her shirt, one goal in mind: removing that that stupid bra. Her tits were set free after messing with the clasps for a moment. Her shirt was still in the way.‘How annoying’, Midoriya grunted; his famous patience near nonexistent. He furrowed his brows lightly before intentionally setting his face into a smug look.

Taking a step back from the breathless girl, he sat down and reclined onto his strong forearms on the bed. His jade eyes were rife with predatory intent. "Strip for me," he commanded. Just his voice was enough to give her jitters as she slightly squirmed in her spot. Heat rose across her face at the brazen order.

"Now." He growled out, impatient. Startled out of thought once more, she glanced up at him, looked down, and slowly took the hem of her shirt into her hand.

"Faster." He barked, taking pride in his unusually dominant demeanor. She quickly shed her shirt, the article of clothing flying overhead. Her nipples hardened at the sudden temperature change.

"All of it comes off." He purred, distracted by her beautiful tits. She once again felt heat in her face from his blatant stare. She shimmied out of her pants, leaving her in an admittedly comfy pair of panties..

"Good girl, just like I asked," he crooned. "But you're not finished yet."

“Come here,” he ordered. She nervously shuffled over to him, every bit the part she was playing. His hands gripped her hips, dragging her closer. Thumbs circling gently over her plush hips, he tucked his fingers into her panties, pulling them down over her legs. She stepped out of the garment that pooled at her feet. If she thought she couldn't have more heat in her face, she was wrong. She was sure that she looked like she was in a sauna as her lover's face drew near her thatch of curls. His hands shifted to the round, soft globes of her ass. Giving them a firm squeeze, he buried his face into her tummy, breathing in the heady scent of her arousal.

"I've barely touched you, and you're already so wet for me." His eyes shone with satisfaction and amusement. "So sensitive," he breathed. His hot tongue made an appearance on her belly, almost causing her knees to give out, and they would've, if not for his strong grip. At a snail like pace, he trailed his tongue down, further and further. His hot breath flushed over her pussy, shooting tingles up and down her body. He grabbed one of her plush thighs. pulling it up and propping it on the bed beside him to allow full access to his cute little cunny.

"Please," she begged.

He pulled his head away to look at her, feeling smug at her disappointed groan. Her hands tangled into his curly green hair, trying to push him back.

He knew very well what she wanted, but he was going to take his time.

"What?" He purred, kissing her belly. She groaned again. "Please" she gasped again, "I need..."

"What do you need?" He adored the frustrated look on her cute face.

"You..." She croaked.

“....To do...what?” Now he was just being an ass.

“Eat my pussy! Jesus fucking Christ, Izuku!”

"Was that really so hard?" He teased. She gave him a sharp look, which he replied to with a nip on her belly, and a light smack on her backside. She lurched forward in shock, giving him full access to his sweet prize. He finally used his thumbs to part her hot, slick folds. Her moan at the exposure to the cool air only served to boost his ego as he found her little nub. He nuzzled his face into her curls as his tongue slithered out for a taste of her cunt. "So sweet" he murmured, wanting more. His tongue delved further into her, aching for that delicious taste that only she had.

He had grown tired of his shallow position, so he quickly bound her hands behind her back with his long-discarded tie and flipped her over onto the bed. He now was hovering over her helpless form, ready for more. He easily spread her quivering thighs. His lips buried themselves into her, giving a firm, wet kiss. Her hips arched up, searching for more.

"None of that now," he mumbled against her lower lips. He firmly pushed her back onto the bed, leaving her squirming as his tongue came out to play. Plunging his tongue in as far as it could go, he hummed a meaningless tune as he traced a random pattern with his thumb, now placed on her clit. The woman let out a squeal at the new stimulation, writhing helplessly underneath him.

He was definitely getting a high from all the control. He gave a peek up to see her chest rising and falling rapidly, providing an enticing show.

'Only I’m allowed to see this side of her, no one else. Only me,' he thought with a possessive squeeze of his hands. She was close, he could tell, but he would feel her cream wrapped around his dick first.

He pulled back abruptly, leaving her with an aching pit at her core.

"Wha...?" She gasped.

"You can't leave me hanging like this!" She rasped.

He gave her one last teasing lick inside her folds and gave a sudden, firm suck right on her clit before pulling away with an all too-pleased smirk.

Completely withdrawing from the bed, he took a second to admire his handy work. He had left her a total mess, squirming and panting pathetically. Her eyes burned with fire, pleading for more.

He quickly stripped out of his remaining clothes, wanting nothing more than to stuff her cute little cunny.

Kneeling over her, he elevated her hips, teasingly brushing his dick over her clit, just enough to cause sparks, but not enough to satisfy.

"Tell me what you want." He purred. His self control was almost at its limit, but she was breaking.

"Just fuck me already!" She shrieked, tired of the games. She couldn't bear to see his smug smirk of triumph, so she threw her head back in to the pillow, waiting impatiently.

Her total submission was pleasing beyond words, so he decided to oblige her request. He gave a shallow stroke in, popping the fat head of his dick into her, before pulling out again. Her angry moan only served to amuse him as he gave a soft chuckle. He continued this slow, light pattern for a almost a minute, enjoying all too much tormenting her.

She felt like her insides were on fire, and a scream of frustration was crawling up her throat. Her hips squirmed uselessly against his, begging for more.

He increased his pace, giving a hard, deep slam that knocked the breath out of her. She let out a choked scream, needing more. His hips continually dipped at different paces and angles, driving her into a frenzy. He analyzed every expression and noise that escaped her beautiful lips, storing that information for later.

Her arms were falling asleep, but she didn't give a fuck, all she wanted was for him to let loose.

His libido was having a hard time being contained, but her expressions and little noises were worth the strain. Rarely has he seen her so unraveled, and he wasn't going to let this go to waste.

The loud, wet slaps of his hips against her were making her go crazy! Why wouldn't he go faster?! The sounds of his heavy balls smacking into her ass would have been embarrassing if not for her desperation. She chanced a look up into his eyes. He was enjoying her anger, that-

"Oh god, please, I need more!" Fuck it, this was torture!

"More?" He hummed, pausing inside her as if to consider granting her wish.

"No!" She shrieked at the loss of stimulation, not believing that he was stopping again.

"No?" He questioned, smirk widening and stretching his normally cute freckled face into something devious.

He pulled out with a quiet groan, his dick twitching at the loss of her silky cunt. His breathing still seemed impossibly controlled.

"You're the devil!" She groaned loudly. He pressed a huge finger to her lips, shushing her.

"You don't want the neighbors to hear, do you?" He crooned. He positioned the head to brush against her clit once more, thrusting and brushing feather-light against it over and over and over and-

She hated him, and she let him know it.

"I hate you," she whispered, giving him the evil eye. He leaned down and gave her a nip on her neck, suckling a hickey there.

"I'm sure you do." Amusement was evident in his voice as he murmured in her ear.

She swore she could hear the smug grin. She saw red, and started struggling against her bindings, to no avail.

"Give up, honey, you can’t win against me", he whispered.

"Never!" She growled

"Hmm, you'll be singing a different tune for me later." He promised, full of arrogance.

He easily flipped her over, pressing the side of her face into to mattress. Pulling her hips up so she was on her knees, he wasted no time plunging his dick in to her, fully sheathed. Her shrieks were slightly muffled by the pillow beneath her. Her shoulders and arms ached and tingled from her restraints.

"Shh... You're awfully loud." He scolded.

She was panting, it was useless to try to reason with him any more.

He roughly ground his hips into her plush ass, not thrusting. His hands were going to leave bruises on her hips, his inner (now outer) beast was purring in delight at this notion. He wanted to mark her, show the world that she was his.

Slowly pulling out, he gave a quick, upwardly angled thrust back in. A strangled gasp was heard from his honey. He quickly set to plowing her, constantly shifting his angle. There was nothing slow or shallow about him now, he was in it to finish her.

She let loose her first true scream of the night, throwing it back on him, trying to keep up with his furious pace.

He was an absolute beast, his nails digging into her hips, and leaving her round bottom hot and stinging from his quick smacks and the slapping of his hips. One of his strong hands ventured down between her thighs, rolling her sensitive little pearl in his fingers.

She loved every second of it. It was no question that she would be beyond sore after this though, he wasn’t number one without reason.

He was snarling and growling, holding nothing back, she would take all he could give, and if she couldn't, well...

He leaned forward, grabbing her hair and pulling her head back.

"Who do you belong to?" He whispered darkly. At her lack of response, he gave a sharp tug and swat to her ass, pulling a gasping whine from her.

"You..." She rasped.

He pulled on her hair again and gave another heavy stinging smack to her ass that’d surely bruise.

"Who!?" He shouted, he needed to hear her say it.

"You!" She screamed, almost crying from the mix of pain and pleasure.

"Say my name!" He roared, thrusting even harder.

"It’s you, Izuku! You! You!" She squealed, giving in to him, arching her back and letting the blinding orgasm take hold. She furiously wriggled and writhed under him, genuinely feeling like she might die from all the pleasure.

At the feeling of her pulsing, tightening walls and her desperate screaming, he could take no more. With a loud roar, he came inside her tight cunt, releasing ropes of thick seed into her waiting walls. She twitched again at the hot liquid stinging her insides.

Never before had he lost control so thoroughly, and he was wiped out, her even more so.

He finally released her bindings before collapsing on top of her, his body engulfing and squishing her own. Her arms flopped, tingling wildly from the blood rushing back.

"’Zuku, you're heavy." She grunted, weakly squirming to get free.

He chuckled and rolled off, his strong arms pulling her back in to his chest. He dwarfed her, and wrapped her in his arms.

She almost was asleep when she felt something prodding her. Groaning in disbelief at his stamina, she felt his face draw close as he stroked and squeezed her rear.

"Ready for another round?”

#deku x reader #midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #bnha smut #deku smut #midoriya smut #izuku smut #finally i wrote a fic for my husband

[egoludes]

the greatest gift of all.

note: so, to be honest with y’all...i have no idea where this came from. i was just minding my business this weekend, @adorecevans​​ and i started talking about one (1) headcanon scenario, and now here we are! this is going to be a v casual series, basically just snippets of dom!chris and sub!reader (in no particular order) building a relationship. future installments will explore the history more, but what you need to know for this one and the series overall: dom!chris meets sub!reader through a dom/sub dating app of sorts and have been engaging each other long distance for a few months. reader has no idea that it’s chris evans for the obvious reasons, and since he doesn’t give a name at all, she addresses him as Sir. i’ll explore all that background more in the future, but for now: i really hope you enjoy!

credits: unsplash for the stock image, and an anon in @honeychicanawrites​​‘s asks one day for the image of cevans calling his lady ‘mama’... i had to do it. 

warnings: masturbation, voyeuristic vibes, intimacy over video call, dom/sub dynamics, long distance / virtual relationships, sex toys, use of title as name (sir).

wc: 2.3k

The thought comes to you on a Sunday afternoon.

You’re on your belly thumbing through texts, legs up and crossed at the ankles with Sir’s newest gift -- a pretty pink slip -- and your laptop beside you. The screen is dark, save for a grey circle with an initial in the center that lets you know he’s there, listening, when you say: “Have you ever tried one of those dildo molds, Sir?”

The initial silence is suffocating, and you worry for a second that the idea - spur of the moment, really - goes too far. You’re just learning each other, after all; still adjusting to the pictures, the calls, the gifts you model for him with pride. 

But then, he speaks, a familiar rasp to the words that makes you clench in your fitting black shorts. The question comes from a place of genuine curiosity, but you’ve riled him up still, which excites you; always does. “That’s what you’re thinking about over there, huh? Feeling me?”

Your body heats, conditioned already to react to that dangerous tone in his voice; but you try to keep your expression reticent when you turn it to your camera. There’s another moment of nothing -- just you watching the lens like it’s him before you. Then, your lips curl, lids narrow, and your voice turns playfully sweet. “Well, when am I not?”

He hisses, a sharp sound that makes you preen, and you can hear him on the other end, adjusting his screen. “Easy, mama,” he growls, earning himself a giggle, “it’s too early for you to be working me up.”

You laugh again, this time with more body before resting your cheek on your palm. Without his video on -- a compromise you’ve grown used to -- you can’t know that he’s actually watching you. But you lean into it all the same, swinging your legs behind you. “But, have you?”

He clicks his tongue, a thoughtful sound, and you imagine what his features must look like, twisted by consideration. “No - I don’t think I know anyone’s who has either.”

You hum, eyes glinting with something that makes him suck in a breath. “I’ve always wondered about it. Not just the process, but just...having one,” you murmur, settling deeper into your pensive stance. There’s a dreaminess to your tone that not even you notice; but he, that ever-mindful man, takes note.

You continue on, none the wiser. 

////

A week later, you come home at the top of rush hour, grateful that you’ve made it so early, but burdened all the same. Stress is a fickle, but poignant thing, and you’re feeling its weight extra today as you make your way up to your apartment. You’re excited for the time to yourself, thinking on what you might make for dinner, when you see it - a small, but noticeable box at the foot of your door.

Immediately, your expression turns, confusion and wariness turning your mouth into a scowl. You don’t remember ordering anything, nor are you expecting something for anyone else. You hope the label will give you a clue about what this could be, but to your chagrin, it has no company - just your address and a generic return location. 

Still, you take it in, setting it on the kitchen counter, where it stays forgotten as you shower, eat, and pour yourself a glass of wine. You’re halfway through the second when the package re-snares your attention from the corner of your eye. You drain the rest of your drink with a gulp, wiping red off the corners of your mouth before you stand, determined, to approach it.

The box is unassuming; plain cardboard with nothing but the barebones label to distinguish it. You lift it again, this time with both hands, to measure it and feel something heavy shift inside. It’s enough to pique your curiosity, and you tear through the packaging until you can see what’s in it.

At the center is another, smaller box made of sleek black velvet. A card is attached with red ribbon, careful lettering penned in dark ink. Even before you fish it out, you can work out the message, but it doesn’t feel real until the note sits in your hand and you’re reading it up close.

For my favorite girl; so you can feel me any time you want.

Sir.

Your eyes dance over the words a few times before their meaning sinks in and you realize it’s a gift from him. Then, you’re practically rabid, tugging out the box out and flipping the lid in one motion.

When you see what’s inside, it’s all you can do not to buckle at the knees. In the middle of the box, set up almost regally on a bed of plushy silk, is a veined, pink dildo. You don’t need to touch it to know that it’s heavy, but that doesn’t stop you from doing it all the same. Your fingers take it by the base first, wrapping firmly above the balls to test the weight. And you moan at it, that delicious thickness as you lift it from the box with both hands. Your palms curve around it, twitching with want, and you realize then that this is what he looks like, what he feels like.

What you would get if he came home to you for real.

The thought is too much to bear. Your breath quickens, fingers dancing deliberately up and over the shaft to size it up. You tell yourself that this is all you need for now ---- you know better than anyone that to use this toy for the first time without him is a test of his patience you’re certain to fail. But, the more you touch, the more you need, and before you can reconsider, you’re on your hands and knees on your couch, panties pressed sloppily to the side as you guide the heft of Sir’s length past your aching entrance.

The impact is immediate. You fall forward with a gasp as every inch stretches you open and by the time it’s fully seated, your face is completely hidden in your couch cushions. The fabric muffles your voice as your hips start to move, a slow, languid grind to make sure everything is felt. 

You get so lost in it, you don’t hear your phone buzzing until it’s almost too late. But, at the nth moment, you recognize the ringtone you’d chosen just for him and, despite the clear risk of answering, you reach for the device, trembling with nerves, excitement, and lust, at the dangerous game you’re about to play. 

When you answer, there’s nothing but darkness from his end and your face in the corner. You’re sitting on your butt now, legs carefully spread and hips angled to keep from jostling the toy inside you. But, it’s hard not to squirm in a situation like this; even more so, when he starts to talk, voice raw from the day. 

“Hi, honey,” he breathes, the endearment -- your favorite -- making your heart swell, “almost thought you were already asleep.”

You shake your head, biting back a knowing smile. “No, Sir… I’m still awake, just...watching tv.”

“Yeah?” He says, something skeptical in the tone. Even without his video on, you can almost feel his gaze burning a hole in your expression. Like he’s inspecting it, picking it apart for clues. He must find one, because he hums lowly; a dip in the sound that makes it sound like he’s smirking. “Only watching tv?”

“Y-Yes, Sir…”

“Okay, okay -- what’re you watching? Is it any good?”

Your eyes flicker towards the television to glean what’s playing, but Sir catches you before you can get a good look. “Nuh uh -- eyes over here.” 

Despite your better judgment, you pout, all but caught now, and the expression makes him laugh. He’d had a number of subs before you -- people who had piqued his sexual interest, but never quite held up to any of his other, more innocent expectations. But you ---- even if he wouldn’t call you something as invested as a lover, your personality makes it hard to be anything but endeared to you. Before he knew it, he was in headlong, calling you for sessions a couple times a week, sending gifts even more than that. You’re fun to just exist with, even in this moment as he’s so deliberately toying with you.

“Can’t be too good if you can’t tell me anything about it without looking, huh?” His voice drops, a dangerous timbre taking it, and you feel your body shake. “So you gonna tell me the truth before you get yourself in more trouble?”

A whimper breaks past parted lips and you bite down a little too late to stifle the sound. “T-The toy,” you whisper, clenching around his cock despite him being hundreds or thousands of miles away. The irony isn’t lost on you - if anything, it’s making your need spike. There’s something so odd, but so enticing about the whole thing. “I couldn’t wait, Sir… your cock just looked so good.”

Sir curses near the phone, so close that you swear you can feel the breath of it on your palm. “Jesus...I knew you’d be hungry for it, but I didn’t think it’d get you this much. Breakin’ our number one rule and everything.” You shift on the couch, free hand reaching to pull out the dildo in anticipation of his punishment. It’s likely to be no orgasms for the night which, as disappointing as that is, seems almost worth it for the pleasure of this weight inside you. Then he speaks again, forcing you to pause in your motion.

“Get on your computer ---- I want to see the way I fit inside you. Then, we can talk about your punishment.”

The minutes between your phone call and the start of the call on your laptop are equal parts tantalizing and tortuous. You’ve only broken this rule once prior and ended up having to watch him fuck his hand through two sloppy orgasms before getting sent to bed without touching yourself even once. So the fact that he seems to be inclined to let you keep the dildo in gives you pause.

But it’s the sort that’s almost intoxicating. Your adrenaline is pumping, thighs slick with want, and by the time you’ve gotten the video up and running, you’ve shed your panties completely, legs wedged open with the camera trained between them as directed.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetie… look at that pussy eating me up.” You whine out for him, walls clenching visibly at his words in a reaction that makes him purr. “That good? Everything you thought it would be?”

You nod in a daze, cock drunk even with your hips still, and Sir shifts on the other end, the telltale clink of an open belt alerting you to how good it feels for him too. You’re in two minds to beg him to see, even if it’s just a view of the waist down, when he beats you to the punch. “Take it out --”

You blink, trying to focus on his words enough to make sense of his command. He can see the confusion in your face and has to try not to laugh. “Take it out,” he repeats, “and sit on it. I want to see you take it properly.”

It’s a scramble after that -- you, shifting and guiding the toy out of you until you’re hovering over the tip of it on your knees. Lidded eyes dance towards your laptop as you still there, body wound tight in anticipation, and like many times before, you hold his gaze through the lens as you sink down, down, down onto the dildo he made for you.

If you thought you were full before, you’re certainly learning your lesson. The change in angle has the cock dizzyingly deep, enough that it punches the air out of your lungs. You can feel the balls against your bare skin, a permanent reminder of how much you’ve taken, and when he calls for you again, adoration in the breathy tones, you can’t help but buzz. 

You love to make him proud of you.

His tone is so tender that you nearly forget you’re in trouble and are about to lift your hips and give him a show when he stops you. “You heard what I said, honey,” he teases when your confused expression returns. “I want you to sit on it. You stay right where you are.”

The urge to beg is potent -- a searing kind of desperation that you’ve never minded indulging with him. But before you can form words in your head, let alone out loud, the dildo comes to life inside you, shaking with such force you cry out from the suddenness. Between being full, and the toy revealing itself to be a vibrator, it’s all too much, so much, and you’re falling back into the couch knees shaking beneath you.

“Now, now, don’t give up on me yet,” Sir coos, a distinct click sounding from his side of the screen and confirming your suspicions when the vibrator turns off right after, “you wanted  to feel me, didn’t you?” He pauses long enough for you to nod, gasping in a breath as your teary eyes dance blindly over the screen you wish you could see him on. There’s another click, then a cry as your body arches in an involuntary jolt.

“Then, be a good girl - show me how well you can handle it.”

#chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfic #chris evans writing #dom!chris evans x reader #chris evans masterlist #honey and sir.

[tinytonysnark]

Hi Nisha love, Stevetony for #40 (Making a goofy face until they notice and laugh) in the 50 wordless ways to say I love you prompt list if you're so inspired? <3

40. Making a goofy face until they notice and laugh. 2.1K words, stevetony, fluff, tw: Howard Stark’s A+ Parenting

six

The first thought Steve ever has about Tony is, he looks sad.

He’s making his way into the school by himself, cause he’s grown now — his Ma’s car is still at the drop-off where he can see her still blowing kisses at him through the window, but who’s gonna know — when his eyes land on them. 

There’s a man standing in front of a boy who looks smaller than Steve does, something he didn’t even know was possible — and the boy looks sad, shoulders hunched in and staring at the ground while the man seems to be scolding him, like his Ma does sometimes when he gets into a fight with the boys down the road. 

But unlike Steve, the boy doesn’t stare back and let it be known that those boys had it coming for talking like that with his chest puffed up because he’s mad — and not at all because he’s pulling in big gulps of air. 

Steve can’t see what the man’s face must be like since his back is to him but he imagines it must be angry and that just makes him angry  cause the man seems like a big old bully and Steve hates bullies.

If the man wasn’t a grown up Steve might have just gone over there to tug the boy away and yell at the man about maybe picking on somebody his own size, but he promised his Ma he wouldn’t get into trouble — well, not on the first day at least. 

So instead, he sticks his tongue out at the man, blowing a raspberry at him that he doesn’t hear.

But the boy does. 

He looks, eyes darting up and around the man to stare at Steve who must have a silly look on his face because the boy looks a little shocked and his ears go red but there’s a smile, there and gone before he quickly looks back down at his feet. 

Steve decides then and there that this boy is going to be his friend and he waits for him, the man leaving with a dismissive wave as he walks over to his very shiny car. 

The boy watches him leave before making his way over to Steve, shoulders still hunched but not staring at the pavement anymore. “Hi. You - you didn’t have to wait for me.”

“Course I did,” Steve says with a shrug. “You and me are gonna be friends. I’m Steve Rogers,” he says, sticking his hand out for a shake. 

The boy stares at his outstretched hand for a moment before taking it with sweaty hands, “I’m Tony Stark and I - I really want to be your friend.”

“Well good, cause we’re going to be best friends,” Steve says confidently, dragging Tony through the front doors. “Come on, we can’t be late on our first day.”

[continue on AO3] or

***

twelve

“I’m just sayin’ that if you don’t come over for blueberry pie after Ma specifically baked it with you in mind, she’s gonna throw a fit,” Steve tells him, feet swinging under him because these benches were so high. 

Not because he’s short. 

It’s not. 

Tony’s hands are fidgeting, his fingernails plucking at the skin of his nail beds and Steve doesn’t even think about it when he reaches over to pry them apart. 

Tony just moves on to biting at the skin on his bottom lip. “Howard will be really mad if I miss dinner. He says the people coming over could really make or break the the company and he wants to make a good impression.”

His laugh is derisive when he tells Steve, “We have to be the picture perfect family complete with the great businessman but who’s also a loving father, the doting wife and mother with me staring as the golden son. What could possibly go wrong?”

Steve’s face must have morphed into the strange expression he does whenever Tony mentions anything about his home life because when he looks up from the plate of fries he’s not eating he gives a snort of laughter which only makes him embarrassed, covering his mouth like that would force it back in. 

“Shut up, you didn’t hear that,” Tony says, cheeks going pink. 

“Hear what?” Steve grins, swiping a handful of fries.

“Hey!”

“What? You’re gonna come over to eat my food so now I’m stealing yours,” Steve tells him. “Listen, you’re coming over today. Ma can be scary when she wants to be and not even your dad can stop her.”

Tony goes back to chewing on his lip. 

“Hey, trust me,” Steve says, grabbing at Tony’s hand. “It’s going to be okay.”

Tony looks down at their hands before looking right at Steve. “Okay.”

It doesn’t occur to him until much, much later that he and Tony held hands all through lunch and neither one had said anything. 

***

fourteen

They’re sitting in Math class — and why Tony is even in this class confuses Steve considering how smart he is — when he realises Tony isn’t paying attention to a single thing Mr.Vanko is saying. 

He’s staring at his phone, hidden behind his open textbook and he’s taking a selfie that Steve is just going to assume he’s sending to Rhodes because —

Because the other option is assuming he’s gonna send it to Stone who is a senior and all around jerk and Steve kinda wants to bash his head in whenever he sees the douche hanging around Tony and — well, Tony seems to enjoy Stone’s attention but there’s something not right about that guy and Steve —

Steve is not biased. He isn’t.

He makes a face at the camera when Tony angles the phone again and Tony doesn’t even notice until he looks at the picture.

He stifles a laugh into his hand but Mr. Vanko’s hearing is scary good and he always seems to have it out for Tony anyway so he turns away from the chalkboard to glare at where Tony sits. 

“Something funny, Mr. Stark?’

“No, no, just that you wrote out the equation wrong,” Tony says, shutting his book, his phone wedged between the pages.

“I doubt it,” Mr. Vanko sneers before looking at the board then scowling when he realises Tony is right. 

Steve tries not to roll his eyes because of course Tony is right. 

When he checks his messages later he sees that Tony had sent him the picture, with Tony front and centre but the perspective makes it look like Steve is popping right up from his head with a goofy look on his face.

He makes it his screensaver because really — who’s even going to know?

***

seventeen

Steve says the only reason Tony tries out for cheerleading is to be a rebel and to effectively drive Steve insane. 

Tony tells him that he does it so he can stay in shape since now he has to keep with Steve’s insane growth spurth over the past year and so he can be flexible and Steve — well, Steve tries not to go completely red at the implication in Tony’s tone. 

For all the years they’ve been friends, for all the dancing around they did about how they felt for each other — this, this is still new and real and Steve is completely terrified of messing this up. 

Losing Tony - that’s not even something his brain can comprehend. 

But when he shows up to practice, already making his way over to where the cheerleaders are to say hello and maybe steal a kiss, he thinks that Tony is trying to put him in an early grave because he’s standing there wearing the cheer uniform just —

The crop top and the skirt are fitted so well.  

For some reason, Steve’s brain latches onto the fact that Tony’s belly button is out.

He’s an innie. 

Steve must look an absolute fool right now because the cheerleaders burst into giggles around him, Tony included, who walks up to him and sweet jesus -

He shaved his legs and Steve thinks maybe there’s glittery body oil on them because there’s no way —

“Hi, handsome,” Tony smiles up at him. “You’ve got a real dumb look on your face so I’m assuming you like the uniform.”

Steve tries to say something back but his mouth just feels bone dry at the moment and he has to clear his throat to choke out a simple, “Yeah, baby. I really, really do.”

Tony kisses him, hard and fast -they’re lucky their teeth didn’t clack together - before pushing him off to the field. “Go on number 29! I can’t cheer for you if you’re terrible.”

“Thanks for that,” he says before hauling Tony in to kiss him once more, deeper and leaving him dazed before he runs back to his team. 

He gets a pom-pom thrown at him.

***

twenty-two

There’s a Taylor Swift song blasting from the speakers to commemorate Tony’s birthday but Steve — Steve can’t find Tony anywhere in this strange house he got off-campus that Steve is nearly certain is haunted because why else would it be so cheap it practically a robbery. 

Rhodes had mentioned to check the workshop but that had been the first place he looked anyway and he’s gone through the whole house at this point.

He’s standing by the kitchen before it comes to him and he’s off like a shot up the stairs, nearly bowling people over in his haste. 

He gets to Tony’s room, places the bag on the table and climbs through the windowsill when he spots him, sitting cross-legged on the roof. “Tony?”

The surprise on Tony’s face honestly makes the 4 hour long journey entirely worth it. 

“S-Steve? Ohmygod, Steve!” He yells, jumping up to crash into him and they nearly go skidding off the roof.

“Why don’t we head back in -”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Tony interrupts, “Let’s just sit out here.”

Steve isn’t really one to deny Tony anything, let alone on his birthday and definitely not when he’s beaming like that. 

He tugs Steve down, his back to Steve’s chest. “I - I got worried when you didn’t call. Thought maybe you forgot.”

Steve frowns, “Forgot? Baby, in these last 16 years I have never not once forgotten the most important date on my calendar and I ain’t gonna start now.”

He brings Tony’s hands up to him and places a kiss on the palm, “There was a slight hold up. Just, wait here.”

“There’s only one exit.”

“You say that like you haven’t rolled off a roof to prove a point before,” Steve tells him, reaching through the window to snatch the bag before coming back to sit in front of Tony. 

“Courtesy of the best bakery in New York,” Steve tells him, holding out the cupcake. “Bucky’s kitchen.”

He lights the candle he brought with him and sticks it in the middle. “Make a wish, Tones.”

Tony stares at him with a look so full of love with the flickering of the flame reflecting in his eyes that all the air rushes out of Steve’s lungs.

He blows out the candle before then promptly taking it out and smears the cupcake into Steve’s face that frosting goes up his nose. 

Tony laughs so hard when Steve just stares at him that he nearly does roll off the roof.

Tony makes it up to him by licking up all the frosting though. 

***

twenty-seven

Steve’s hands can’t stop shaking. 

He can’t believe that after months and months of planning, they’re finally here. 

That in just a few short minutes, he’s gonna get to call Tony his husband.

The doors open and Steve thinks his heart might have just stopped as he watches Tony walk towards him, resplendent in his tux and he just knows that the camera is recording his slack jawed expression because Tony is grinning at him as he makes his way down the aisle.

When they’re declared husbands, Steve kisses that grin right off his face and the camera catches their stupefied expressions. 

***

thirty

Tony drops the blanket, yelling out, “Peek-A-Boo!” 

Peter, completely amused, claps his tiny little hands from inside the crib. 

“The betrayal I feel right now is overwhelming,” Steve calls from the door of the nursery. “This is my favourite game.”

He crouches down next to Tony, both hiding behind the blanket before dropping it again, making silly faces. 

“Peek-A-Boo!”

Peter’s shriek of laughter can be heard all through the house.

#stevetony fic #steve/tony #marvel #stony #tony stark #steve rogers #stevetony #stony fic #anon you inspired me to write 2k words of pure fluff wow that's amazing #i kinda cheated a lil tho #blink and you'll miss it #also...nisha love...the softest endearment...i could kiss #ficlet #nisha writes

[yespolkadotkitty]

Conference Room B

A little smutty fix-it for poor darling Marcus Pike, who really got shafted in The Mentalist. I wanted to give him a treat. Special thanks to @alldatalost​ for cheerleading.

Warning: shamelessly fluffy smut.

You stare at your computer screen, willing something to change, so you can leave already. You adore the team here, in many ways they’ve become your family, but you were meant to have been in DC with Marcus for eight days already - well, okay, so he wouldn’t have been there yet, but you could have slept in the sheets that smelled of him and started to organise your home together. Instead, a new murder case dropped and swallowed the lives of everyone. But you’re nearly there, you’re all so close you can taste it. Even Jane is antsy.

You miss Marcus. No, that doesn’t seem enough. You long for him. Marcus’ new job seemed to come with some hefty, dangerous undercover work, and while he’d been on the job, you hadn’t been able to video call, so for six weeks your relationship had been maintained via whispered voice calls and texts at random times.

Sometimes, late at night, you hadn’t seen his face for so long that you wondered if you’d made him up, inside your heart.

Agent Cho drops by your desk, tapping the corner to get your attention. “Agent Pike is in the building.”

Your pulse jumps. “Thanks. But-”

Cho just arches a brow and smiles.

Your heartbeat rockets as you stare at the lifts opposite the bank of desks you work in. What would he smell like, after this time apart? Why was he here now?

“What if I fuck it up?” you whisper to Cho. “What if he’s changed his mind?”

Kimble smiles at you, and his usual calm, stoic demeanour works its magic on your nerves. “If he’d changed his mind, would he be here?” He gives you a little nod, and then swaggers off, no doubt to impart his even-keel advice on someone else who needs it.

You spend a few fruitless moments trying to get back into work, and failing. Lisbon meets your gaze from her own computer and gives you a sympathetic smile. You guess they all know.

And then the elevator doors open and actually, nothing else matters when you see him.

His hair’s grown out, and it curls over his forehead, flicks up at his collar. It looks so soft; you want to sink your fingers into it. And his top lip and jaw are scruffy and the new, patchy beard really suits him. His posture is great as usual - he’s not arrogant, but he won’t apologise for being confident. He wears a suit well; always has, the lines cut sharp, his white shirt striped with grey, cut in half by the wine red tie.

He is a big, tall drink of water, and you want him more than your next breath. He scans the room and you stand up, and your eyes meet. His are that bottomless, dark chocolate brown, and his face lights up when he sees you, that big, goofy, no-holds-barred grin, and you make yourself calm down and try and remember you’re at work, rounding your desk and walking to him slowly across the carpet.

“Hey,” he says softly, and his voice is deep and sexy and everything you’ve ever wanted. Your hands itch with the urge to touch all that soft hair and his scruffy beard.

“Hey.” You search his gaze. He looks thrilled to see you, his expression soft and sweet and tender and unguarded, and your heart aches for all the nights you’ve missed him. “I love the beard.”

Marcus rubs a hand over it. “Thanks. It’s for the undercover thing. It ended last night, and - well. I know it’s sudden, but I had to see you.” He glances around the office, and you turn around to see Cho, Lisbon and the rest of the team quickly duck their heads, pretending to be super engrossed in other stuff.

“Wow,” you mutter. “We’re supposed to be good at subterfuge.”

Marcus chuckles, and takes your hand. Just that simple touch sends licks of want and need up your arm. “Is there… somewhere we can talk?”

Your stomach drops. Is he.. Ending things? “Sure.” You keep his fingers linked with yours, and lead him down the hall to a small, unoccupied conference room. You gesture and he precedes you in, dropping your hand, as you close and lock the door, and release the blinds, so you’re totally alone.

“Marcus, is everything-” your words get swallowed up as he’s on you in a heartbeat, kissing you like a man desperate for air after a lifetime underwater. His tongue traces your lips and you open eagerly, sliding your hands up his chest and into his newly grown hair, and it’s as soft as you imagined. He smells of his habitual black pepper and vanilla cologne and fresh coffee and clean soap, and it’s heady and you could breathe him in forever. He tugs you as close as possible, folding your body into his larger one, his hands running over your back like he’s re-learning you after over a month apart. You fist your hand in his hair hungrily, licking into his mouth. His moustache tickles your skin and it’s decadent and delicious, like a favourite cake with a new flavour added.

He releases you, making this low groan of need in his throat, and you think if he isn’t inside you in the next thirty seconds, you might die.

“Sorry,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Couldn’t do that to you out there. And I had to - I had to.  Sometimes I’ve wanted you so much, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me too,” you whisper, cupping his dear face, tracing your thumb along his scruffy jaw. He feels so good. “Is it wrong to get frisky on FBI property?”

Marcus winces. “Most definitely, but…” He pulls you close again, and you thrill to the evidence of his want for you pressing hot and heavy against your belly. “ Fuck, I want you. We’ll have to wait until you get home from work.”

“For what I really want, yes, but… not for everything.” You back him up against the door, kiss him breathless, drinking in his addictive taste, and slide one hand down to his fly, unzipping his suit pants.

“What are you-” Marcus asks, and then footsteps sound on the other side of the door.

You kiss his scruffy cheek and whisper into his ear; “You’ll have to be quiet. Anyone could come past.”

He swallows audibly but doesn’t say anything to the contrary. You nip at his earlobe as you use your other hand to play, too, sliding open the slit of his boxers and drawing him out, palming his length and soaking up the little growl in his throat that’s just barely audible.

“Oh my God , have I missed you,” you murmur, licking at the scruff on his jaw. “And you show up looking hotter than a Laredo night.”

Marcus’ hands clench on the small of your back as you continue to stroke and tease him. He’s steel in velvet, and your hands become slick as you begin to draw an orgasm up his spine, one eager touch at a time. When you pull back to look up into his face, he’s wrecked, pupils blown with lust, teeth sunk into his lower lip in an attempt not to make any sound.

He’s a fantasy wrapped in a Bureau-issue suit, everything you want in a tanned, voice-made-for-sex package - kind, smart, patient, soft, and he’s yours. “Marcus,” you murmur, your head full of love with him, and you slide down his body and take him in your mouth.

A strangled sound escapes his lips just as voices pass the door, and you hear him mutter “ Jesus fucking Christ,” as you start to lick him the way you’ve been fantasizing about for six weeks. One of his hands curls into your hair as you work him steadily close to a blinding climax. He’s slumped against the door now, desperately trying not to let his knees give in, as his hips move incrementally, exercising extreme restraint in not fucking your mouth.

You take him as deep as you can and he makes that sexy little growl again, and your name falls from his tongue, the syllables deep and gravelly, a warning, and you squeeze the hand he’s fisted at his hip, letting him know it’s okay.

A litany of curses barely reaches your ears as he comes like a freight train, his whole body tensing for a moment that seems to stretch to forever, and you drink down everything he gives you, afterwards gently tucking him back into his boxers and zipping his smart suit trousers.

Marcus rubs a hand over his face, and you see his wrist tremble. “Fuck. That was…. Probably not legal.”

You kiss a smile on to his sweet lips, hug him tight, and he pulls you into him, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Thank you,” he rasps, low and sweet in his perfect drawl. “You can’t imagine how many times I’ve come in my hand in the last six weeks, wishing it was you.”

“About the same number of times I’ve imagined you in my bed,” you say, resting your forehead against his. “That’ll have to hold us until I finish for tonight. Do you still have your key? Wait for me at my place?”

Marcus pats his pocket, dark eyes shining. “I will.”

You take time to adjust your clothes before leaving the conference room. The coast is clear and you walk Marcus back to the elevators.

Jane passes with a cup of coffee in hand. “Glad you had time to come, Pike,” he says genially, and you follow Marcus into the elevator, and when the doors close, you laugh in each other’s arms until you’re weak.

Tagging: @pedropascalito​ @pedropasscals​ @paniclana​ @littlemissthistle​ @spacegayofficial​ @tiffdawg​ @keeper0fthestars​ @dindjarindiaries​ @pedrosasscal​ @thewaythisis​ @javierian​ @restingnurseface​ @abuttoncalledsmalls​ @fleetwoodmactshirt​

Please do ask to be added or released from the tags!

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike fic #pedro pascal x reader #the mentalist fic #shameless smut

[cutie1365]

A Kid from Queens Part 21

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Info: CA: Civil War Era. Tony Stark enlists his daughter to find the web slinging spider in Queens.

Word count: 5.4k

Warnings: 18+ content, smut, language. (I had aged up Peter so he’s 18.)

A/N: Flashbacks in italics as usual :) I know it’s been forever, motivation is hard to come by these days. This is the longest thing I’ve ever written, it’s long enough to break into two chapters but I know I haven’t uploaded in a while so Merry Christmas lol.

Any and all feedback is much appreciated! Please please if you could just leave a little message of things you like or what you want to see in the future it really helps.

Masterlist linked in my bio. Taglist in the reblog.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Y/N! Y/N! Over here!” You heard your name called as Happy opens the limo door. He extends his hand to help you to your feet.

“Stark, look over here!” The paparazzi screams were almost deafening as Peter exited the car after you. His mask hid more of his features while yours left little to the imagination, they knew who you were already, so no point in trying to hide it.

“Behave.” Happy pointed a stern finger at you.

“Don’t I always.” You feigned offense as your hand clapped over your heart, he raised a brow as your mouth turned up into a smirk.

“Goodnight Happy.” You chuckled, turning and stepping onto the red carpet leading to the venue.

“Who are you wearing?” You heard different questions screamed in your direction. This was a charity gala after all, not the fucking Oscars. Who cares who made your dress?

You slipped your hand into Peters, trying to calm him. This had to be overwhelming, all the cameras in your face, screaming anything they can to get you to look their way.

“Dr. Stark!” One voice called, gaining your attention. Few people addressed you with your appropriate title. You turned to see a young woman, who didn’t look like she’s been on the job for very long. She was holding her own though, against all these ruthless reporters. You thought you saw The Bugle among them.

“Dr. Stark, Glory Grant from the Times.” She smiled once you looked her way. You took a step closer to her, nodding at her to let her know you were listening and she could continue, “Can you tell us why this cause is important to you?”

“Of course, every child’s life we can save is like an investment into our and their future. They’re going to be the ones to take over the world someday. Who knows who will be the next Einstein, or Madam Curie...” You began with a smile.

“Or Y/N Stark,” She smiled. You laughed, shaking your head humbly.

“If we can do our part in donating and relieving some of the financial burdens off of their parents then it’s worth it. This organization not only helps families and children currently fighting cancer, but it helps look for a cure. A permanent solution to help end this disease.” You spoke from your heart.

“Thank you so much Dr. Stark.” She smiled as she scribbled the last of your words onto her notepad.

“Are you new at the Times Ms. Grant?” You asked, taking another step closer to her and the barrier between the two of you.

“Yeah, I just started.” She smiled nervously.

“Can I borrow your pen?” You asked, and she handed you her pen and pad.

“That’s my work number. If you’d like to be added to the Stark Industries press board, give me a call. They’re the first ones we call about press releases and announcements.” You spoke as you scribbled it down, handing it back to her with a smile.

“Thank you so much Dr. Stark, but why are you helping me?” She furrowed her brows.

“Because it's a man's world, and we can help change that, one woman at a time,” You said, causing her to laugh, “You’re the only one here to actually address me by my title and not ask me about my outfit. I see a bright career ahead of you.” You nodded to her as you took a step back towards the middle of the carpet.

“Enjoy tonight,” she smiled, beaming at the new opportunity. You winked at her as you took Peter’s hand and led him along the carpet and up the stairs towards the venue.

“That was nice of you,” He squeezed your hand.

“I mean it’s effortless for me, but it will help kick start her career. I got this kinda third eye about people.” You smirked.

“That’s not a real thing.” He shook his head with a laugh.

“Sure it is. It’s not always perfect, but sometimes I can just tell when people are destined for something great. Like you, from the moment I met you I knew.” You turned towards him, taking his other hand in yours.

“You knew what?” He titled his head in confusion.

You leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his lips, forgetting you were at the top of the stairs and still in full sight of all the photographers. You saw the flashes but you didn’t care. Peter’s identity was safe with his mask, and you wanted the whole work to know how happy he made you.

“That you’re a good person, and you’re gonna do big things.” You beamed up at him as you pulled away from the kiss, turning to lead him inside.

“So what else can this third eye tell you?” He asked curiously.

“It’s kinda like a gut feeling, to trust someone or not trust them. Like fight or flight, something’s not right kinda feeling. I just trust my gut, ya know.” You shrugged.

“I think I know exactly what you mean.” He said, and you turned to him with a raised brow before remembering your conversation from a week ago.

“Oh that’s right, like your spidey senses.” You chuckled, making sure to keep your voice low.

“My what?” His eyes went wide.

“You said you can sense when something bad's gonna happen. Although mine isn’t as specific and can’t be attributed to a radioactive spider.” You chuckled, walking to a secluded corner of the ballroom.

“Shh someone could hear you.” He whispered, you smiled, shaking your head, knowing everyone’s always drunk at these sorts of things.

Turning to face Peter, you raised your hands to straighten his bow tie. Your mind wandered to how great he looked in his suit. The feeling of butterflies swirling in your belly from the moment you saw him step through your door a few hours ago had barely worn off.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Wow,” you both muttered as your eyes landed on each other. You’d never seen him all dressed up like this. He looked good, really good. You gulped, trying to push the dirty thoughts from your mind.

His hair was slicked back, not the mess of curls you were used to. He looked so grown up. You could almost picture him commanding a Stark Industries board meeting or standing at the end of an isle. Wait- slow down Y/N, jesus.

He looked so natural, so dapper, and then he turns and gives you that signature goofy smile- there he is. It brought a smile to your face. How did you get so lucky? How could you have landed a guy as great and handsome as Peter Parker. Were the girls at his school brain dead? You would think everyone would want him. Kind, sweet, intelligent, respectful, and Christ he cleans up well. He was everything you’d ever dreamed of.

Have you just been staring this whole time? Jesus, Y/N say something, he’ll think you’re crazy, you thought.

“Are you ready to go?” You asked, trying to compose yourself. He only nodded, still not able to formulate words.

You were wearing red. His red. No- not his red obviously, but the same color of his suit. And god he loved it. He felt like you were wearing a piece of him. Like he had marked you, you were his.

“You look...” He trailed off, his eyes still wide. He cleared his throat and smiled, trying to compose himself. You could almost hear his internal monologue urging him on - Come on Peter, keep it together..., “You look... God Y/N. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” You blushed. Of course that wasn’t the first time someone had told you that, but coming from Peter it felt different, “You look so handsome. Not your usual kind of suit, huh?” You smirked, causing him to chuckle as he pulled on his sleeves.

“I have your mask.” You smiled, still admiring him, holding the mask out to him.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Why doesn’t your mask hide your identity?” Peter asked, as the two of you watched more and more people file into the ballroom.

“Because people will know who I am anyway, and I’m not hiding.” You explained.

“How will they know?” He furrowed his brows, you shook your wrist in response.

“I don’t know anyone else with a custom blaster built into a bracelet. I’m also on the younger side, and pulled up in a ride with Stark Industries plates, so it wouldn’t take a genius.” You smiled, starting to recognize a few faces of regulars as you people watched.

“Do you always wear that thing?” He asked, holding up your wrist and examining it.

“No, I’ve got a watch for day to day wear that does the same thing. Dad may not give me a suit, but he won’t leave me completely defenseless. And it has come in handy.” You trailed off, remembering the not so fond memories of the last time you used it. Your ribs still ached if you thought about it long enough.

“Let’s hope you don’t have to use it tonight.” Peter said, craving one normal night without having to be a hero.

“Someone would have to be very ambitious to attack this place, they’ve got security out the wazoo.” You brushed off, praying tonight would go well.

A hush fell over the crowd as the charity president walked onto the stage and welcomed everyone. You felt Peter’s hand slip around your waist protectively as everyone pushed a little closer to the stage to hear. This part was pretty standard, basically a little speech to kick off the  night, a thank you for coming, and who to make all checks out to. Music filled the ballroom as the band began playing after the applause for the speaker died down.

“I’ll get us something to drink.” Peter nodded off towards the open bar.

You nod as he walks off and turn to admire the ballroom. Your eyes soon land on a familiar face.

“Dr. Strange,” You smile, greeting him.

“Dr. Stark,” He nods. You’d met a few times at these sorts of events. You hadn’t seen him for a while though, and there were rumors of an accident.

“How are you Stephen? I haven’t seen you since...” You paused to trying and remember, “Was it that benefit for the hospital a year ago?”

“Had to be, I’ve been... traveling.” He stated ominously. You glanced down to see the long thin scars along his fingers.

“Well it’s nice to have you back.” You smiled.

Peter now rejoined you at your side, slipping a drink into your hands- non-alcoholic of course, per May’s request. His other hand found its way to the small of your back.

“Peter, this is Dr. Stephen Strange.” You introduced him.

“Peter Parker,” He smiled, shaking the doctor’s hand. Something you couldn’t describe flashed over Peter’s eyes as they shook hands. Like a gut feeling he couldn’t quite place. For some reason his spidey senses were going off.

“Enjoy your evening, I need to check in at work.” Strange gave a curt nod and smile as he said his goodbyes. As he walked past you he dropped his voice to a whisper and spoke into your ear, “I like this one much better than the last.”

“Me too,” You whispered back with a smirk.

“So... how do you know him?” Peter asked curiously as the doctor excused himself to call the hospital.

“We run in the same circles, it’s a lot of the same people that come to these sorts of things. His hospital donates a lot of money to these causes and when he pisses off the board they send him to represent them as punishment.” You explained.

“This is a punishment?” Peter asked, dumbfounded.

“For a neurosurgeon it might just be,” You laughed, shaking your head, “I’m surprised he’s here.”

“Why?” He furrowed his brows.

“I heard he was in an accident not too far back. A bad one. I didn’t know he had gone back to work. Hmm...” You looked off to where the man had disappeared to.

“Care to dance, Parker?” You changed the subject, taking his hand into yours and placing your drinks onto the nearest table.

As the song changed to I Only Have Eyes For You by The Flamingos, he held you in his arms, swaying slowly. You were lost in him, hours could have passed, or seconds. As your bodies were pressed together you felt a sensation you could only describe as home.

“So has it been everything you dreamed it would be? These stuffy formalities for rich people to get drunk and spend money.” You chuckled as you looked up at him.

“It’s beautiful, but I guess, I mean it seems so glamorous from the outside.” He shook his head.

“Sorry to burst the bubble for you. It’s a little less Gatsby, and a little more, middle aged businessman doing coke in the bathroom.” You quipped.

Peter’s head immediately whipped towards the bathroom door where two men were emerging, one rubbing his nose.

“No way...” He looked back to you with wide eyes.

“You’d be surprised.” You chuckled.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

After a little more dancing and mingling you and Peter made your way out onto the deserted balcony.

“Are you cold?” He asked, as he leaned onto the railing next to you. You were hiding it well but he still sensed it.

“A little.” You chuckled, cursing those spidey senses for giving you away.

Peter slipped off his coat and placed it over your shoulders. You thanked him as you turned to admire the moonlit lake below you. It was so quiet and peaceful, untouched by the party going on just on the other side of the glass doors.

“Did you have a good day?” Peter asked.

“Perfect.” You looked up to him and smiled, and you meant it.

“Um, so, Happy told me that you don’t like to celebrate your birthday but,” Peter began to speak, nervously. Your eyes grew wide, how in the world did he know it was your birthday? That was the one day you liked to keep private and out of the press. Only the Avengers, Pepper and Happy knew when it was. “I wanted to give you this. Everyone deserves at least one present on their birthday.”

“Peter you didn’t-” You shook your head, before he cut you off.

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. And don’t worry, Mr. Stark swore me to secrecy so I won’t go announcing it to the world.” He reassured you as he reached into his pocket to pull out a little box.

“I know it’s not much, and I’m sure you have a million other fancy things, but I wanted you to have this.” Peter opened the box nervously, revealing a necklace. It was a single pearl and diamond dangling from a silver chain. Simple, but beautiful. “It was my mothers. Aunt May said that my dad gave it to her on their wedding day.”

Your jaw dropped slightly and your hand went over your heart.

“Peter, I-” How could you accept this? It was probably one of the last bits he had of his mother and he was just giving it away? You knew how much they meant to him, and he’d been through so much. With losing both parents so young and then his Uncle Ben not that long ago. Tears began to pool up in your eyes. Did he really care about you that much to part with something this important?

“Are you sure?” You asked softly.

“Of course I am. She would have loved you. She would have wanted you to have it.” Peter spoke, slipping the necklace on you as a single tear slipped down your cheek.

You turned back to him with a smile, he gently rubbed his thumb across your cheek to wipe the tear away. He didn’t know what to say- actually that’s a lie. He knew exactly what three words he wanted to say, but he thought it might be too soon and he might scare you. He absolutely didn’t want that. So he just smiled at you as you leaned in to kiss him.

You pulled away and wiped your tears, trying your best not to mess up your makeup.

“Thank you Peter.” You sniffled, chuckling at how silly you were being.

“Happy birthday.” He beamed as you heard the band strike up a slow song inside. He extended his hand to you, “Y/N Stark, can I have this dance?”

There was that goofy smile again, causing you to giggle as you placed your hand in his. He pulled you close, you rest your head on his shoulder as you both sway to the music. And for once in your life, everything was perfect.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

After everyone had said their goodbyes and they ushered you out of the venue, you and Peter began your short walk through the park to the Plaza Hotel across the street.

“Tonight was like a dream,” You said, as you swung your intertwined hands slightly.

“Haven’t you been to a million of these things.” Peter chuckled and shook his head.

“Yes, but I’ve never been to one with someone I love and it’s a very different experience I’ve learned.” You spoke, causing Peter to stop.

You turned to face him as you noticed his wide eyes, not believing the words that just came out of your mouth. It took him a minute to process. One, that meant you loved him. And two, that meant you were never in love with Thomas, since you’d been to these events with him before.

“Ok, you’re kinda scaring me now Peter,” You laughed nervously at his awestruck state.

“You love me?” He asked, and you answered with a nod and a smile.

He placed his hands on either side of your face and pulled you into a sweeping kiss.

“Am I dreaming?” Peter asks, pulling away, looking for any sign on your face that this was all some sort of joke.

“I sure hope not,” You chuckle.

“I love you too,” Peter beams at you, pulling you into another kiss.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Woah...” You and Peter both mutter as you push open the door to your hotel room. Now this was fancy. You felt like you were in a room in Buckingham Palace.

You both walked around, inspecting the room as you dropped your coats. You saw your bags in the corner that had already been brought up. You ran your hand over one of the pillows on the huge California King sized bed as your lips morphed into a smirk and an idea popped into your head. You clutched onto the pillow with one of your perfectly manicured hands as you spun around, whacking Peter with it.

“Hey!” He yelped, eyes growing wide at what you’d just done.

“Come on Parker, let’s see what you’ve got.” You tossed him another pillow from the bed with a smirk.

“O you’re gonna regret this,” He stalked towards you. You kicked off your heels and jumped onto the bed, standing up on your knees.

He swung his pillow as you ducked, it just missed you. You took the opportunity to whack him again. He looked at you with wide eyes, thinking, How had he missed?

“What? Couldn’t see that coming, bug boy?” You laughed. Taking those few seconds to gloat had proved fatal as you felt his pillow attack your side.

“Oof,” You feigned pain as you dropped backwards until your back hit the bed.

“Are you ok?” Peter asked, worried, thinking he’d really hurt you. With his super strength he was never sure.

You waited until he was kneeling next to you to jump into action, according to your plan. You jumped up, pushing him back onto the bed as you straddle him, grabbing your pillow and smacking him a few times.

“Ok, ok, you win!” Peter cried out, forfeiting.

“Yes!” You threw your pillow up in the air in victory. Peter looked up at you, still on top of him with your hair now a mess, hanging all around your face. He cherished the genuine smile on your face. All he wanted to do was kiss you, you looked so happy.

You crawled off of him and back onto the floor where you extended your hand to help him up. As he placed his hand into yours and rose to his feet, you didn’t notice his left hand reach for the pillow. Before you knew it, there was a pillow lightly thrown in your face.

“Peter!” You squealed through laughter. He knew you were about to retaliate when you reached for your own pillow on the bed. But he was faster, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you away.

“Come on, truce?” He asked as you struggled against his arms.

“Fine, truce.” You said, shaking his extended hand as he let you go.

“Hungry?” You asked, reaching for the room service menu on the desk and flipping through it.

“Starving.” He said, reading it over your shoulder.

After you had called in the food, you walked over to explore the rest of the room.

“They said it will be about an hour.” You told Peter, as you pushed open the door to the bathroom.

“So what do we do til then?” He asked, but you didn’t hear him.

“Jesus, look at the size of that tub.” You exclaimed, and Peter came over to your side to get a look at it too.

“Wow,” He said when his eyes landed on the giant clawfoot tub, “Um we definitely have to use that.”

You turned to face him with a smile.

“Really? You’d wanna do that?” You asked, who knew Peter Parker was a sucker for bubble baths.

“Absolutely. And do they have those big fluffy robes like in the movies?” He asked, excitedly, like a kid on Christmas.

You walked over to the closet and pulled the doors open, revealing two robes as described. You pulled them out and presented them to him.

“Cool...” His eyes lit up as he felt the material between his fingers.

You started to run the water, adding bath salts and bubbles, knowing it would take a while to fill the whole thing. Your things had already been brought to the room before you got there, so you got to work taking off your makeup and letting your now messy hair down.

You tried to reach for your zipper, as your body cried to be released from this skin tight dress.

“Hey Pete,” You called, and he strolled in the bathroom, now only wearing his dress pants and no shirt... and the butterflies were back. God how could he look that good, you stared shamelessly.

“You called?” He smirked, breaking your train of thought.

“Oh um, can you help me with my zipper?” You blushed, knowing you’d been caught.

“Mhm, turn around.” He instructed, before his fingers found the metal pull tab and he slowly worked it down, revealing more and more skin.

“There you go.” He smiled, placing a kiss on your shoulder, his gentle action nearly making you swoon. “I think the water’s ready if you want me to turn off the tap.”

“Yeah, yeah go ahead.” You nodded. You watched him turn off the spout and slip off his dress pants until he was just in his boxers. He folded them and set them aside before looking up to you. You were still holding your dress against your chest to keep it up, as the back gaped open and the thin straps slipped down your arms.

“Do you need help with that?” Peter asked, pointing to your dress, thinking you might need help taking it off. You thought you could manage, but on second thought you might need help. It was a tight dress and your stylist had helped you into it. You only nodded in response as Peter moved behind you. He gently helped you slip your arms through the straps and pulled the fabric down your body. He gave the fabric a quick tug as it struggled to get past your hips. You were now exposed in front of him. The dress was too tight for you to wear any sort of undergarments. He took you in for a moment before shifting his attention respectfully to the red indentations down your side from where the seams of the dress dug into you.

“Does this hurt?” He asked, gently rubbing his fingers down them.

“Not really,” You shook your head. He reached out his hand to help you into the tub without slipping.

You sank into the warm water as Peter dropped his boxers and joined you. Your eyes went wide at the size of him, and you looked away, a blush slowly crept onto your cheeks.

He must have noticed because the next thing you knew, a splash of water was hitting your face. You looked back to him in shock, he was sitting back laughing. You flicked your hand through the water, splashing him back.

You moved to do it again, but he grabbed your wrist, stopping you. You knew it was a good idea, if the two of you started going at it again like in the pillow fight, it would lead to a mess and an expensive clean up bill.

“Do they always book rooms this fancy for the galas?” Peter asked, taking in the room once more.

“I don’t know, this was the first time I’ve accepted it.” You shrugged, following his gaze up to the gold crown molding and chandelier.

“Really? I thought you did this all the time.” Peter assumed.

“No, I don’t make it a habit of jumping into tubs with strange men.” You joked.

“That’s not what I meant, and I’m not a strange man, I’m your boyfriend.” He teased as he pulled you towards him. You chuckled and placed your lips onto his quickly before pulling away.

“Say it again.” You smiled. He furrowed his brows for a moment before smiling.

“I’m... your... boyfriend.” He said slowly, placing a kiss on either cheek between words, his lips landing on yours after his last word.

He now had his arms around your waist, pulling you close as your lips collided. When you broke apart for air, he looked down at the necklace around your neck and smiled.

“This is a dream right? I’m dreaming.” Peter shook his head with a goofy grin, not being able to believe his eyes.

“Does this feel like a dream?” You asked, taking both of his hands and placing them onto your breasts. He responded by crashing his lips onto yours, he groaned against your mouth as he pulled you closer.

“It’s nice to know you dream about me Parker.” You quipped with a smirk as you broke apart for air. He chuckled at your cockiness.

“All the time, baby.” He replied, and the pet name rolled off his tongue before he even realized what he said. God you almost melted at the sound. It was your turn to crash your lips against his and let out a moan as his hand traveled down to squeeze your ass.

A knock at the door pulled you both apart as you stared at each other with wide eyes.

“Room service!” A voice called, causing you both to let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

The two of you sat at the dining table, both in your white fluffy robes with nearly dripping wet hair.

“God this is so good.” Peter said, stuffing his mouth.

“Mm, I know, I didn’t realize I was this hungry.” You said, doing the same. Who knew fancy hotels made burgers and fries this good.

You picked up a fry from your plate, waving it at Peter.

“Ready? Catch.” You said as you threw it across the table as Peter caught it in his mouth.

“Ok your turn,” Peter said, tossing one of his. You leaned to the side, nearly missing it, but catching it in your mouth. You thrust your fists in the air in celebration, causing Peter to chuckle.

The two of you ate and talked, before cleaning up.

“Ugh, I’m so full.” You groaned, falling back onto the bed, rubbing your full stomach, causing Peter to laugh.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Peter asked.

“Oo yeah, we should probably get out of these robes though.” You said, moving from the bed, not wanting to get it all wet.

“Here,” Peter said, moving to his duffle bag and tossing you one of his t-shirts. You slipped it on as he slipped on some boxers and hung up your robes. You glanced down at the Midtown Tech logo and smiled. The fabric fell down to the middle of your thigh.

“I like seeing you in my clothes.” Peter smiled as he approached you sitting on the edge of the bed and pulled you into a chaste kiss.

“Cafeul, soon all your sweatshirts are gonna go missing.” You said, making him laugh.

Peter sat with his back against the headboard, and motioned you over to him. You crawled across the bed and laid into his side as he wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you close. He held the remote in his other hand, scrolling through options on the large screen.

“Have you seen this?” Peter motioned towards the screen.

“That’s my favorite movie.” You chuckled, smiling up at him as he immediately pressed start.

Peter absentmindedly played with your hair as the movie went on. As the credits rolled a few hours later you leaned up to face Peter.

“Thank you for today. As birthdays go, I gotta say this may be my best yet.” You spoke genuinely.

“Well it’s not over yet.” He stated after glancing at the clock on the bedside table.

“It’s not?” You smirk, as he pulls you closer.

“I think we were interrupted earlier.” He said slowly, a blush returning to your cheeks as you remembered the events that took place, or almost took place in the bathtub a few hours earlier.

“I think you’re right.” You whispered back, as you climbed onto his lap as his lips intertwined with yours.

You’ve kissed him before, that wasn’t new, but this time something was different. There was a hunger you couldn’t quite describe. His hands began to roam your body, trying to take in every inch of you. A strong arm wrapped around your waist, lifted you, and laid you down onto the bed as Peter now hovered over you.

You gasped at the sudden movement before smiling as Peter lowered his lips to yours once more.

“Y/N,” He said, making you stop and open your eyes, worriedly. Was he ok? Was this too much?

“I’ve never...” He began, nervously.

“That’s ok Peter, we don’t have to-” You tried to reassure him, but he shook his head.

“I want to, God I want to. I want to make you feel good.” He said, his hand traveling up your shirt and resting on your waist.

“Are you sure?” You asked, not wanting to push him into something he wasn’t ready for.

He nodded, muttering a yes as he brought his lips down to you once more, before pulling away.

“Are you?” He asked, making sure this wasn’t one sided.

“Absolutely.” You smiled, taking in the sight of him above you, reaching up to gently move a curl that was falling onto his face, brushing his hair back with your fingers.

And for the first time in your life, you realized why it was called ‘making love’. As much as the phrase made you cringe. As much as you hated when people said that, that was the only way you could think to describe what you and Peter just did. It was sweet but passionate. Peter was gentle yet ruthless in all the right ways. You figured it out together, through the giggles and moans. And as first times go, it was perfect.

For one night you got to be kids. Of course you were adults, just barely. But the two of you had more weight on your shoulders than most adults would ever have. You had responsibilities, that the safety of the city and the world depended on. But for one night, you got to be normal, you got to be kids. For one night you were free, and you cherished it, because neither of you knew how long it would last.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated! 

TAGLIST in Reblog

#peter #peter x reader #peter imagine #peter imagines #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagines #peter parker imagine #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagines #spiderman imagine #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #stark reader #peter parker x stark!reader #reader insert #tony stark imagines #steve x reader #steve imagines #steve imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #marvel #spider-man x reader #spider-man ffh #spider-man homecoming #spider-man 3

[13-reasons-ideas]

Can’t Go Back- Christmas Bonus

A/N: I am so sorry I didnt post this sooner. I’ve been having a really hard time with my mental health recently and everything outside of my job fell to the wayside. This chapter contains straight smut and straight filth. Please heed the warnings and if you are not into it, it is not necessary to read this chapter. The ending fell a little flat but I still like it. I hope you guys like it too. As always, feedback is appreciated and much love. -Em Contains SMUT under cut 18+. Warnings: Daddy kink, no condom use but she has an IUD, orgasm denial, being held down, begging. This is pure filth for a while guys. 

What Addy bought at Target 1 What Addy bought at Target 2 What Addy bought at Target 3

Finally, after what felt like a year after the last two months we had, December rolled around. Christmas. I hopped out of bed on Sunday morning and grabbed the flannel Monty was wearing yesterday. With a joyous grin, I grabbed my gingerbread man mug and made a pot of Starbucks holiday blend. I poured myself a mug and inhaled the first of my favourite scents of Christmas. My stomach grumbled. “Right. Breakfast.” Sitting down to eat my cheese toast, I was interrupted by soft footsteps coming in the room.

“Morning Babydoll.”

“Morning Love. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No, you didn’t. Rolled over and you weren’t there is all.” His voice was still gravelly with sleep.

“Okay. After I finish my coffee we can go back to bed if you want.”

“I’m not tired anymore.”

“I never said we had to go to sleep.” I peered over my mug and watched his face perk up at the possibilities.

“Can you hurry?” I giggled and threw back the rest of my coffee.

“We could just… stay here. If you want.” His eyes widened.

“You mean….”

“Mhmm.”

“Fuck I love you.” Monty muttered as he took three large steps towards me while I moved to put my plate away.

He grabbed my wrist, twirled me around, and kissed me playfully. I smiled and kissed him back before he lifted me up and placed me on the counter. He began kissing along my jaw and down my neck. I sighed deeply and ran my fingers through his hair. My other hand was wrapped around his bare bicep. His fingers deftly undid the few buttons on his flannel I had done up when I put it on. Reaching for the waistband of his pyjama bottoms, I tugged on them slightly. He growled lowly and I whimpered. “What do we say when we want something Babydoll?”

“Please?” I whined.

“Please what?”

“Please Daddy?” I looked at him with doe eyes.

“Not yet.” He rumbled gruffly. I huffed and he looked at me sharply. I immediately hung my head to hide my smirk. He tilted my head to the side and nipped at my neck again, biting down at the juncture where my neck and shoulder met. I closed my eyes as his hand began trailing down my body to my panties. “Don’t think I didn’t see that smirk Doll.” I whimpered softly. He hadn’t moved his hand to touch me or move my underwear or anything. Gripping the edge of the counter so hard my knuckles were white, I waited. And waited some more. He continued ravishing my neck and chest, though never quite where I wanted it. I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Please Daddy?”

“Please what Doll? Use your words and tell me what you want. Don’t move.”

“Touch.” My voice sounded small and weak. He had hardly touched me, and I was already so far gone I could barely form coherent thoughts.

“Touch? Is that how we ask for things we want?” He taunted before swatting my thigh. “I’m not going to remind you again.” I had to fight not to squirm at the implication of what would come after that final warning.

“Please touch me Daddy.” I begged.

“Touch you where?”

“Everywhere.” I gasped, growing more and more frustrated. He chuckled lowly. Even though I knew he wouldn’t touch any of the no go zones and I trusted him completely, the sound still sent a chill down my spine. Even still, I kept begging. I wanted, no. I craved, no. I needed his touch. My body felt like it was on fire and his touch was the only thing that would put it out.

“Well, isn’t someone a needy little thing this morning?”

“Mhmmm. Yes Daddy.”

Finally, he pulled at the waistband of my panties and lifted me up with one arm, just enough to get them below my butt. He put me back down and I shivered at the feeling of my hot skin against the cold marble. I watched with bated breath as he dragged his fingers from my belly button down to my clit. I knew better than to complain when he stopped just short of touching my sensitive bundle of nerves. It took me a moment to realize he was waiting for me to ask again. I simply stared at his hand, not moving, hovering just above where I craved his touch most. “Please rub my clit Daddy.” I whimpered softly, as though I was divulging my deepest secret. His fingers were rubbing my clit in soft, quick circles as soon as the words left my mouth. I felt him smirk against my breast as he listened to my depraved moaning and whines. He left little bite marks on the sensitive skin. I felt his other hand move from my waist to my hyper-sensitive nipple. Crying out when he brushed against it, I bucked slightly. He was gentler this time when he rubbed the nipple. He barely brushed it with his fingertips. Meanwhile, the pressure and speed he applied to my clit was gradually increasing. I felt the familiar knot in my stomach starting to tighten and just when I was about to cum, he stopped touching me all together and stepped away from me. He knew my body so well now, that I didn’t even need to ask for permission the first time. I cried out at the loss of sensation, even though I knew it was coming.

After giving me a few minutes to calm down, he was back to rubbing my clit. It was softer this time. But due to the increased sensitivity, it was harder and harder to stay still. He used his arm to hold me in place by my waist. “If you don’t stop squirming, I will fuck you on the counter.” He grumbled. The thought made my heart flutter. We hadn’t done that since we got back from our honeymoon. My hips bucked involuntarily. I had to stop myself from begging. “Oh, well. Does the needy little thing want to be fucked on the counter?” I whimpered, unsure if he wanted a verbal answer. To be safe, I replied.

“Yes. Please fuck me on the counter Daddy.” He cursed under his breath and gently leaned me back. I couldn’t help the yelp that escaped at the cold sensation on my back. He stilled. I gave him two quick blinks to let him know I was okay. Words aren’t really working at the moment. I watched with wide, doe like eyes as he pushed his pants down and his cock sprung free. I itched to reach out and touch it but I knew that I would both be breaking a rule by not following an instruction and I would be cold again when I put my arm or arms back down. “Please Daddy?”

In a matter of seconds, he was inside of me. He covered my mouth to muffle the wanton scream that tore it’s way through my body. He uncovered my mouth and placed both hands on the counter for leverage. He was thrusting rapidly, and I felt the knot being to tighten again. “Daddy? Please? Can I cum?”

“I mean, I’m sure you can.” He taunted. I rolled my eyes internally.

“May I please cum?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.” I whimpered. I was positive I was going to cum. Just as I was about to go over the edge, he stilled and pulled out of me again. I choked on my whine and shivered. His eyes were dark as he stared at me. I watched him take a step towards the island and giggled in shock when he scooped me off the counter and carried me to our bed and dropped me in the middle of it. “Don’t move.”

“Yes Daddy.” I sat very still again. He’s looking at me. Just do something. For the love of God. It was getting harder and harder to stay still. I felt myself start to shake from focusing on not moving for so long. When I looked up, he was biting his lip and staring down at me. Is he trying not to laugh? Now? Really? “Please more?” I couldn’t take the silence or the waiting any longer.

“I didn’t think you’d last that long.” His brow raised and I bit back a retort.

“Please? I want to touch you.” I looked up at him with pleading eyes.

“You will get to. Just be patient.”

“Okay.” I squeaked. He knelt on the bed and crawled toward me. I fell onto my back when he got too close to keep me sitting.

“Let me have my fun first Doll.” He mumbled as he ran a finger up my thigh. It tickled.

“Mhmm.” Was all I could vocalize because he had begun rubbing around my folds again. His knuckle brushed my clit and my body jerked. I sucked in a quick breath. The heat hadn’t dissipated any between the kitchen and the bedroom. If anything, it had only grown more intense. I closed my eyes and felt a finger enter me. The slow, even thrusting made the knot in my stomach tighten a little more. When he added another finger, I groaned, and my hands went straight for his hair. He didn’t seem to care as much about me not moving anymore. I tried not to tug the closer I got to my orgasm. Pulling from the ends is not sexy pain. Once again, when he felt my orgasm approach, he pulled away from me. I sighed in frustration.

“Can I please touch you now Daddy?”

“Yes, you can. God yes you can.” I sat up instantly and reached out to him. I bit my lip as I considered my options. To tease or not to tease… that is the question. “Don’t even think about it.” He threatened, though it was a loose threat.

“Fine.” I smiled at him and reached out to run my fingers along the underside of his cock. He sighed deeply. Growing even less patient, I wrapped my hand around the base and began stroking carefully. I took my cues from his breathing and the quiet moans he tried to hide. I sped up my stroking and twisted my wrist a little.

“Jesus.” He muttered. I went to let go but he slapped his hand around my wrist. “Don’t stop that.”

Taking that as a clear enough cue to keep going, I continued with the rhythm I had created for myself. I switched hands a couple of times when my wrists started to hurt. I was only half surprised when he tore my hand away from him and sat up, only to push me down onto my back and climb on top of me again. He never was one to give up control for too long. I couldn’t stop the laugh and grin that seemed like it should have killed the mood. If anything, it made it even more intense. Raising my arms above my head, I held one hand in the other, so my palms were facing up. He smirked at me and in one smooth motion he entered me and placed his hand on my wrist, effectively pinning me down at two points. Almost all of his weight was on the other arm, so he didn’t hurt me though. I wrapped my legs around his waist when we built a good enough rhythm that worked for both of us. My hips matched his thrust for thrust. I cried out when he thrusted particularly hard. He kissed me softly and slowed down a tad. I could tell he was getting close when his thrusting began to lose some regularity and he began panting slightly. I clenched to hold back my impending orgasm, unsure if he was going to let me cum or not. I would be satisfied either way. “You can cum.” He said into my ear. My head was so fuzzy that it sounded far away. After a couple of beats, his words computed in my mind and I moaned loudly. A couple of rough thrusts later, the knot that had been building all morning, finally snapped. Everything went black for a few seconds. I came back to reality just as he was reaching his own orgasm. He somehow managed to slip out of me and roll onto his back without falling on me. He was panting heavily. Or maybe that was just me. I couldn’t be sure. I rolled over gingerly and curled up against him. His heart was racing when I rested my head on his chest. He moved to hold me and run a finger through my hair while we caught our breath.

“That was… very good.” I panted after a bit.

“Yes, it was.”

“Like holy crap. I don’t know if I can get up and walk.”

“I think I’ll need to ice my knee after that. Don’t think that’s what my physiotherapist meant by light physical activity.”

“That’s okay.” I sat up and grinned at him. Now that I had caught my breath and calmed down, I was ready to get back into the Christmas spirit.

“Why are you so chipper this morning?”

“It’s December first.”

He nodded and then his eyes widened. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

“Do I have to go with you?”

“Yes. I’ll need your help lifting the tree. You know, with your superior upper body strength.”

“Don’t start Doll. Teasing isn’t going to make me any more inclined to be excited for this.”

“We’ll just have to see about that, won’t we?” I smirked at him. “I’m going to shower, if you want to join me.”

“I’m alright. You go on ahead sweetheart.”

“Suit yourself.” With that, I skipped off to the en suite. The hot water felt exquisite on my back. Would be better with company.

Once clean, I wrapped myself in a decidedly too short to be decent towel and went back to get some clothes. I could feel Monty’s eyes on me, trailing up and down as I walked over to our closet and examined my options. I spotted the burgundy miniskirt and smirked, a deliciously devious plan already beginning to form in my mind. Grabbing it off the hanger, I went to my dresser and pulled out a black strapless one piece and sheer black tights. Sprinting back to the bathroom before he could get a glimpse, I slammed the door. I emerged a little while later and Monty was no longer in bed. I hadn’t heard him get up and leave.

“Shower’s free.” I called. I walked over to the couch just as he looked up.

“Okay. I’ll be there in a min- you aren’t leaving the house in that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so.” I rolled my eyes.

“I’ll put on a sweater. You don’t think it’s cute?”

“Then the sweater doesn’t come off. And cute isn’t the word I would use.” He grumbled.

“Fine by me. Are you going to shower so we can go soon?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m getting to it. Not like the store is going to run out of Christmas decorations in twenty minutes extra.” He stood and walked to our room, closing the door behind him.

“You never know.” I called behind him. I heard his loud laugh in response.

True to his word, twenty minutes later we were on the road to the Target. We made a quick stop at Starbucks once we got in the city. “That is basically just coffee flavoured sugar, you know.”

“I got it half-sweet. It’s my holiday drink.” I stuck my tongue out at him and took a long sip of my caramel brûlee latte.

“I know it is baby. It’s cute. Gross and just sugar, but you get so excited about it.”

I blushed deeply, “shut up and drink your boring, plain, very un-festive coffee.” I muttered.

“I can show you festive later, Doll.”

“I told you to put those horrendous velvet boxers in the trash.”

“I know, I know.”

We arrived at Target and I practically leapt out of the car. I had a cart and was at the door by the time he caught up with me. “Slow down Bookworm.”

“Sorry. I’m just excited. Come on, we have lots to get.” He laughed as he followed me in the store. It wasn’t too busy yet so we were easily able to navigate to the right department. That also meant we still had fairly good choices for décor options.

“First thing’s first. We need to pick a tree.” I told Monty, gesturing to the collection of trees.

“Okay.”

“How big do we want to go?”

“Knowing you, probably above average.” He smirked. I rolled my eyes and ignored his double entendre.

“Is seven feet okay? We will probably get a bigger tree in a few years.”

“Yeah, that’s good.” We made our way to the appropriately sized trees. “I don’t want a skinny tree.”

“No, but it can’t be too fluffy either. Do you feel like fighting with lights every year?”

“Not particularly.”

“Pre-lit then.” We examined our options and I pointed out a decently fluffy but not overly so, warm green tree with warm lighting. It also happened to be under a hundred dollars and on sale. “What about this one?”

“I like it.” He pulled the box off the shelf and slid it on the bottom of the cart.

With that decided, we moved on to decorations in the next aisle over. I gave a cursory once over to the options by running down the aisle quickly before asking for an opinion. “What do you like? And do we want to go traditional or cutesy?”

“They’re all different kinds of balls Addy.”

“I know. What do you like?” I asked and then added, “I’d prefer to be dealing with a different kind of balls but here we are,” under my breath.

“What was that?” Monty asked, abandoning the cart and coming over to wrap his arms around my waist to ‘help’ me look.

“Nothing. Will you at least tell me if you want baubles or doodads?”

“Baubles? I think? What’s the right answer?”

“Balls or pickles with googley eyes and junk.”

“Balls. But maybe a few special ones?”

“Okay.” Having come to an agreement on the type of decorations, I gave the aisle another, more in-depth examination. “Red?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. Red and gold or red and silver?” I muttered to myself. I thought for at least a few minutes silently. “Gold?”

“I don’t-.”

“Silver?”

“They-.”

“Silver with a pop of gold?” I suggested, raising my brow.

“You aren’t talking to me. Okay. I’ll just be over here with the… nothing and tree in the cart.” After a few more minutes of silent contemplation and muttering to myself, Monty spoke up. “You are obviously going to be a while. I’m going to go get some groceries. Do you want me to grab anything or think we need anything?”

“Yeah, can you grab me a box of regular tampons please?”

“Sure. The regular size I assume.”

“Great thanks babe.” I muttered distractedly.

A little while later, he came back with the groceries. I was still trying to decide on tree ornaments. “You haven’t made a decision yet? I’ve been gone for like twenty-five minutes.”

“Huh? Has it really been that long? I didn’t notice.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Red and silver balls and like a few extra ones?”

“Whatever you choose babe.” I nodded and grabbed a couple of sets of balls. We had to rejig some of the groceries but eventually everything fit nicely. It was time to move on to deciding what extra ornaments we would get. That was significantly easier because we could just grab ones we thought were meaningful. We also settled on a silver glittery star for the top.

“We need a wreath or two as well.”

“Why?”

“For the door and mantle.” I shrugged.

“Alright? I will never understand your obsession with Christmas and decorating, you know?”

“It makes the house feel warm and cozy.” He only shook his head and smiled at me in response. We grabbed a couple of the cheapest wreaths we could find and a couple of strings of lights to go on them. I also snuck a couple strings of pine garland in the cart. The stocking aisle was daunting. There were so many choices. Cable knits, fuzzy, monogramed, patterned, oversized, mini… okay not the mini ones… plain, all colours of the rainbow. “Which one do you want?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Do we want to match?” Monty and I looked at each other and made faces.

“No.” We said in unison. We stood in the aisle weighing our options.

“What if we picked each other a stocking?” Monty suggested.

“That’s a great idea. Time limit?”

“Five minutes.”

“I need at least ten.”

“Ten then.” We shook on it and then set about choosing our partner the perfect stocking. I hemmed and hawed about what one to get him. I swiped through them a few times, tuning out the other people in the aisle and focusing solely on the task at hand. I flipped through the racks and didn’t like any of the options. Finally, at the back of a rack, I found the perfect one. It was manly but not overly so. It didn’t say ‘my wife picked this’. And there was a handy little pocket for some candy on Christmas morning.

“Took you long enough.” Monty teased from his spot at the cart.

“How long did it take you?”

“All of two minutes.” I looked in the cart and smiled at his choice.

“It’s perfect.” We grabbed some mantle hooks as well before moving on to get some decorations and decorative blankets and throw pillows.

“Why do women need six hundred pillows for every season?”

“I don’t know. Why do men have a chair and two spoons when they move out on their own and consider a mattress on the floor a bed?”

“We are simple creatures.” I had to bite my lip to hold back a laugh. He continued to push the cart while I threw a couple of fuzzy blankets in.

In the kitchenwares aisle, I tried to find a silver bowl for the coffee table that wasn’t atrocious or looked like it had been passed up by everyone in the thrift store. “Pop of gold it is.” I muttered, placing the bowl in the ever growing pile.

“Hey babe, do you like this… uh… bowl with knives?”

“It’s cute! We need it.”

“Need?”

“Yes.” I nodded simply. He put it in the cart. I grabbed a couple of packs of decorative napkins. “I think we are all set.”

Once we were home and the plethora of bags were in a semi-neat pile in the living room, I went to change into something more comfortable and seasonally appropriate. I settled on a pair of pj pants and a Christmas sweater. Monty had started to unpack the groceries and organize them to be put away. I went up and hugged him from behind. “Thank you for going with me to the store today.” I kissed his back.

“Of course. Why don’t you start going through the bags in the living room? Or did you need help moving the coffee table?”

“I’ve got it. You sure you’re all good here?”

“Yeah. I know you’re itching to Christmas-ify the house.” I nodded excitedly and ran to the living room after putting the kettle on for some hot cocoa.

I pushed the coffee table into the corner of the sectional and began going through bags. Tree decorations were stacked on top of the Christmas tree box. Décor bits were set in a pile on the table. Pillows and blankets in another pile. The kitchen type things were placed on the couch. I was quite literally surrounded by Christmas. This is. Awesome. I giggled and turned on the fireplace.

“Having fun?”

“Huh?” I looked up and Monty was standing right behind me. “Why yes I am.”

“What do you want done first?”

“Can you get the tree out and fluffed please? Put it in the corner by the window?”

“Sure. I’ll plug it in and make sure it works.”

“Thank you. I’m going to put the bowl in the kitchen and start the laundry for these.” He nodded and we went about our tasks.

While I was getting the laundry going I heard Carter in the living room. “Fucking tree. ‘Can you fluff it?’ with that cute little face. Stupid job. Who’s idea was it to need to fluff it anyway. Urg.” This is amusing.

“Having fun babe?”

“Mhmm.”

“Well if I did it, only the bottom four and a half feet would be fluffed.”

“Mhmm.”

“Would you be happier if I put some cookies in the oven?” I bribed.

“Maybe.”

“Okay.” I went into the kitchen and set the oven for the snickerdoodles.

“Um. Addison?” He called.

“Yeah?”

“Did you buy a bag of pinecones?”

“Yeah, why?” I asked, walking back over.

“I’ll ask again. Did you buy a bag of pinecones?”

“Where else was I supposed to get them?”

“Oh. I don’t know. Maybe outside?”

“Those ones are all dirty and breakable.”

“The pinecones are all di-.” He paused and sighed. “You know what? Never mind.” I smiled and kissed the top of his head before grabbing the bowl and dumping the bag of not from the outside pinecones into it. We spent the rest of the day decorating the tree and drinking hot cocoa together. It was a perfect Sunday.

The next morning, I wrangled Monty out of bed with the promise of a coffee run on the way to school. While he had a shower, I got dressed. I danced around our room while I picked out a maroon long sleeve jersey knit dress and a pair of black ankle boots. I was picking out some jewelry when Monty spoke, startling me. “Orange or blue?” Turning, I thought over the flannels he held out to me.

“Blue.”

“Okay.” He shrugged it on over his black t-shirt. Monty made his way across the room and pointed to the silver necklace in my jewelry box. “That one.” I smiled and put it on.

“Any other suggestions?”

“I could make a few but we can’t play hooky again. I can think of one accessory that would make the look though.” I looked at him quizzically. He smirked and leaned in to kiss my neck. He nibbled and sucked on the spot just behind my ear, forming a small hickey. I reached up and wrapped my arm around his neck.

“You are so mean. How am I supposed to cover this in class?”

“Leave your hair down.” He shrugged, satisfied with the job he had done. I shook my head and rolled my eyes. He narrowed his. “You want to do that again Doll? I’m sure you could think of an excuse for being late. Not being able to sit comfortably might be harder to explain though.”

“No.” I grumbled. I was kidding.

“Have you seen my leather jacket?” I asked when we were getting ready to leave.

“Last I saw it was in the front closet.” I nodded and grabbed it along with my bag. “You look nice today by the way.” Monty said as he took my hand after he locked the door.

“Thank you.” I blushed. We stopped at Monet’s and ordered our usuals before driving to school.

“Addy!” Monty’s friends greeted me as we walked towards them. “Oh, hey Monty.”

“Hey guys.” I smiled.

“Hey friends who were mine first.” Monty grumbled.

“Awe, is someone jealous?” Matt mocked.

“No.”

“You stole Justin from me so shhh.”

“I did not steal him from you. You two are a package deal.”

“Mhmm. Sure Honey. That’s why he comes over to see you twice a week.” He pouted as his friends laughed around us. “Would you feel better if we stopped for almond milk on the way home and I made you a smoothie?”

“Yes. It would.” I smirked slightly to myself. Of course, it would. The topic changed to what we had done over the weekend. I tuned some of it out, searching for Justin. Please don’t be with Jess.

“So, what did you two get up to? That we want to hear about.”

“We went to Target and bought Christmas decorations.”

“You mean you dragged me to Target for four hours to buy Christmas decorations.”

“That’s what I said.” I shrugged, grinning wildly. His-our-friends blinked at me and then turned to Montgomery looking like they were scared I was going to have a seizure or something.

“She loves Christmas.” Justin stated, appearing behind Garrison.

“It looks like Christmas threw up in our house. It’s great.”

“Married life boys. This is what you have to look forward to.”

“You like it. It’s cozy.”

“Never said I didn’t like it, Bookworm.”

“Right. You just have an ‘image’ to uphold. Sorry.” He rolled his eyes playfully.

“Has she taken you winter candle shopping yet?” Justin asked.

“No. I don’t go with her for that anymore.”

“So, does that mean I have to take her?”

“I need someone to be the muscle.” I shrugged.

“I’m sure you’d manage Addy.” Bryce smirked. I rolled my eyes and turned to him.

“Bryce. I’m five foot two on a good day. I weigh like one fifteen soaking wet. I have the upper body strength of a limp noodle.” The boys around me laughed.

“This is why she gets the excited greeting, and you get a wave Monty.” Ryder pointed out. “She has jokes.”

Monty rolled his eyes, pushed Ryder into a locker jokingly. “Fuck you, asshole.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“You could take Charlie.” Justin suggested. I contemplated that for a moment before the first bell, shrugged at him and went to class.  

Charlie and I went shopping for candles a couple of weeks later. “I don’t think there’s anything going on with Zach and Alex, Charlie. At least not that way.”

“Could you… ask him?” He asked as I opened the door.

“We’re home.” I called and dropped the heavy bag on the couch. Monty poked his head around the corner and nodded at Charlie.

“Hey.” He eyed the bag. “Did you buy the store out?”

“No. They still had some left.”

“Did she buy the store out?”

“No, I think she would have though.”

“That’s my girl.” He walked out of the kitchen with a dishtowel slung over his shoulder. I smiled and started pulling candles out of the bag. I arranged them neatly on an empty shelf and then greeted Monty with a hug.

“And why can’t you ask him Charlie?”

“Ask who what?” Monty quirked his brow.

“Alex about Zach.”

“Why would he as-. Oh. Dude. You can do so much better than Zach.” He turned to Charlie. When He didn’t respond, Monty’s eyes bulged a bit. “Standall? Alex Standall?” Charlie nodded awkwardly. “But he’s… Alex Standall. His dad is a cop.” I blinked, trying to erase our last encounter with the good deputy from my brain. Permanently.

“Babe. Don’t tease him. Alex is nice.”

“I know. He could still do better. A lot better.”

“I like Alex.” Charlie muttered. Good going dear.

“I know Charlie. I think it’s cute. Do you want a snack?”

“Sure.” Monty spoke up.

“Last I checked, you can walk without crutches.” I smirked.

“Charlie can walk too.”

“Charlie doesn’t live here.”

“I’ll take whatever’s easiest.” Charlie cut in from the couch.

“Char. What do you want? You know you don’t need to do that what’s easy for you thing here. You’re family.” I scolded.

“Do you have any cookies?”

“I might have to bake some but I think we have some dough in the freezer.”

“Sure.”

“Milk?”

“Yes please.” He called.

When our cookies were done, I put them on a plate and grabbed Monty a pack of fruit snacks. I chucked the bag at him when he looked up. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Charlie, you’re welcome to stay for dinner.”

“What’s for dinner?”

I turned to Monty and raised my brow at him.

“I took out ground beef.”

“Spaghetti?” The boys nodded. “I’ll make it later.” I muttered and settled into the couch with my blanket.

“So why are you afraid to ask Alex about Zach?” Monty asked Charlie.

“I don’t know. I know they’re close and stuff so….”

Monty thought for a minute and took a bite of the cookie in my hand.

“Hey. I was eating that.”

“Sorry.” He said through the cookie, shrugging. I shook my head at him.

“This man….”

“You love me.” He thought for another minute and sat up quickly. “We could have people over for Christmas.”

I sat back, my eyes wide, slightly incredulous. “We could?” I never thought he would be this excited by the prospect of a house full of people, especially at Christmas.

“Well yeah. Why not?”

“I’m not opposed or anything per say but what do you mean by… people?”

“The team. And your friends. And Alex.”

“So, like… twenty to fifty people. In our house. All at once?”

“Maybe?”

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea. It could be fun. Please Addy?”

“Come on Addison? You always joke about being team wife now. Christmas is wife-y. They’re like my family. Plus, then Charlie can shoot his shot. Or at least be forced into interacting with Alex and can’t chicken out.”

“I’m going to need to make a lot more cookies.” I’ll just let them think they had to twist my arm. That actually sounds great. “And you have to help with grocery shopping.”

The next day I met Alex at his locker. “Hey Addy.”

“Hey.”

“What’s up?” He asked, grabbing a few books from his locker. I shrugged.

“Do you have plans over break?”

“Not that I know of, why?”

“Monty and I were thinking about having some people over for Christmas. Did you want to come?”

“Sure. Let me know when.”

“I will.”

“Alex!” Zach called, walking up to us. “Hey Addy.” He nodded, somewhat stiffly.

“Zach.” I nodded back. Alex glanced at me. I thought Monty was asking the team later. But I guess there’s no time like the present. “Oh, hey. Monty and I are having people over for Christmas over break. Did you want to come?”

“I’ll ask my mom, but I don’t see why not.”

“Okay.” Things were still pretty awkward between us and I wasn’t sure how to end our conversations, so I just kind of waved and excused myself.

Justin found me at lunch. “What’s this about a Christmas dinner and why am I hearing about it from someone who is Alex and not my best friend.”

“I didn’t think you needed an invite you Dork.”

“Still.” He muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Let Jess know she is welcome to come if she wants.”

“I will.” We walked into the cafeteria together and I caught Monty’s eye. He was sitting on a table laughing at Ryder. I nodded in the direction of my friends. He nodded back but did not make an effort to move.

“Hey Addy.” Came the chorus from my friends.

“Hey guys.” When the common pleasantries were out of the way, I offered up my invitation. “We are having some people over for Christmas during break if you want to come.”

“Sounds good.” Tony nodded.

“Caleb is welcome to come too Tony. The more the merrier. I have to mention that Monty is inviting the team too, so be prepared for that.”

Clay groaned. “Really?

“They’re his friends Clay. I’m not going to tell him they can’t come. Do you think I’m chomping at the bit to be the only girl in the house unless Jess comes?”

“You sit with them at lunch and stuff.”

“There’s a difference between wrangling a group of teenage boys for an hour and having a house full of men. Ask your mom.”

Monty texted me. Bryce is staying here this year while his parents go on some retreat thing or something. Is it okay if I invite him?

Sure, he is your friend after all. Just tell him to keep his shit together.

I will. Your friends down?

I think so. Alex and Zach said yes. Make sure you tell them not to bring stuff.

I felt a presence behind me. Clay and Tony looked up. I turned around.

“Oh hey Garrison.��� I looked around him at the small group of athletes standing behind him. “Everyone else.”

“Monty said you’re having people over, over break.”

“Yeah, why?”  Did he leave out details like where we live or something?

“Can we do a gift exchange?” He asked, his voice raising as it filled with hope. There was a chorus of ‘ohh yes’ and ‘please’ around us. Monty walked over.

“I go to the bathroom and you guys migrate over to Addison? I see how it is.”

“They want to do a gift exchange.” I told him.

“I see. That could be interesting.”

“We can think about ground rules and get back to you guys?” I suggested. The group around me nodded and eventually dispersed.  

With a date and time agreed upon, along with a budget and ground rules for the white elephant, it was time to make a grocery list. Not before Monty so eloquently threatened our guests though. “If any of you bring a scented candle-or any candle-you will forcibly removed. Don’t need any more stupid candles. She will guard that candle with her life.”

I was sitting at the kitchen table with a large pad of paper and a pen. “Need any help?” Monty snuck up behind me, hair dripping from the shower. His grey sweatpants hung low on his hips.

“Turkey or ham? Or both?”

“Both.”

I nodded and wrote it down. “Is Coach bringing his wife?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Okay.” I spent some time working on the list while Monty got dressed. I was waiting with my purse in hand when he came out of our room. “Ready to go?”

At the store, I handed him the list so I could push the cart. I’m probably going to regret this. It was fairly busy, being so close to Christmas. “Please try to stick to the list.”

“I will.” He muttered, looking it over. “Addison?”

“Monty?”

“What are, and I quote, ‘snackys’?”

“Snack foods. I don’t know what to get.” He nodded and chuckled.

“You are so cute.”

“Not cute. Danger.”

“Mhmm. You keep telling yourself that Doll.”

I grumbled as I grabbed a couple of containers of salad. He chuckled again. “How many onions do we need?”

“A few. If they’re really big get like two? And like a couple of heads of garlic if they’re good.” A couple of minutes later, he was back with onions, garlic, and a celery. I grabbed a few bags of carrots and the other few vegetables we needed. Monty loaded the potatoes in the cart.

We made our way to the meat department and I spent some time going through the turkeys. “Can you go get a ham that’s between seven and ten pounds please?”

“Yeah.”

As we walked through the rest of the store, Monty stuck his hand in the back pocket of my jeans. I felt the slight squeezes he gave my butt occasionally but didn’t comment. Let the boy have his fun. I put him in charge of picking snacks for his friends and grabbed a few bags of Chex Mix for Justin to snack on. There was a rather large bag of gummies on sale, so we grabbed that and threw it in the cart. That might not last the two days until we have company.

“I’m driving into the city tomorrow to get a few more things from Target.”

“Sounds good. I’ll start on the cleaning then.” He offered.

It was the first Saturday since our fight that we didn’t have company for breakfast. That didn’t mean we got to sleep in, however. There was plenty to do. We were going to have a house full of people in a matter of hours.

“Addy.” Monty whispered, as I nuzzled closer into his chest. “Bookworm, it’s time to get up.”

“Sleeping.”

“We might have time for a quickie if you wake up now.”

“Hmmm. Sleeping. Shhh.” I muttered. I was starting to wake up. A quickie sounds nice. Maybe there will be time to cuddle after. And more sleep. I willed myself to unfurl my body from the fetal position I was in and look up at Montgomery. “G’morning handsome.”

“Good morning beautiful. Sleep okay?”

“Mhmmm. You?”

“Yes.” He leaned in to kiss me softly.

I couldn’t ignore the tight feeling in my shoulders. I pulled away to stretch. My shoulder cracked and I let out a downright obscene moan. He growled lowly beside me. I held up a finger and yawned. Feeling a little more awake, I leaned back in to kiss him. He wrapped his arms around me and deepened the kiss. My hands wound their way around his neck as his arms wrapped around my waist. Monty rolled onto his back, taking me along with him. From my new vantage point on top of him, I was able to arch my back some more. This feels so good.

His hands traveled down to the hem of my pyjama shirt and slid it up. I pulled away so he could take it off and drop it unceremoniously on the floor. He held me out, so I was sitting in his lap, admiring me. It still makes me kind of uncomfortable. The way he looks at me. But he seems to enjoy it.  “Thought you said we only had time for a quickie.” I mumbled.

“A slow quickie.”

I ground my hips slightly and he moaned softly. “Slow?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Suit yourself.” I smirked. Slowly, I removed myself from his lap and stood beside the bed. My panties were then slowly slid down my legs. Partially because he emphasised the slow part. Partially because I was still tired and not super steady on my feet yet.  Once I was naked, I climbed back on the bed and straddled his lap again.

“Addison.” He muttered, a warning.

“You said slow.” I smiled cheekily. Though I intended to drag it out longer, I knew we were on a schedule. I couldn’t stand to wait either. He rolled his eyes. My hands went for the waistband of his pyjama bottoms. I was slightly unsteady and he immediately reached out to grab my hips. I smiled and nodded at his questioning look.

Now that I was steady, I was able to reach down and tug on his pants again. He lifted his hips to help me pull them down. Still holding my hips, more to hold me up in the air slightly so there were no… accidents… he kicked his pants off. His cock had sprung free and I deftly reached down to line myself up to take him. We both moaned loudly at the contact. I slowly inched myself down his length while I adjusted. I waited another minute after taking the whole thing to lift my hips again slowly. It took a few thrusts to get a proper rhythm going, but once I did, it was magical. Monty kept his hands on my hips, helping me keep the rhythm up. He thrust his hips to meet mine, matching slow thrust for slow thrust. I leaned down so we were chest to chest for a better angle and had to bite his shoulder harshly to keep from screaming. It’s too early in the morning for screaming.

As we both began chasing our highs, Montgomery flipped us over, so he was on top. I giggled in surprise. It turned to a moan halfway through when he hit that spot. I saw stars and tilted my head back. He took the opportunity to bite the crook of my shoulder. I could tell he was getting close and the knot that had begun building in my stomach snapped. I clutched his shoulders as my muscles tightened and my body curled in on itself. He reached his climax moments later. He was extra careful to keep his arms under my own. Don’t want a repeat of the time he lost his balance and squished me. Pulling out of me, he rolled onto his back. We were both breathing heavily and I looked at the clock on the nightstand. “Twelve minutes. I think that’s a new record.” He laughed and tapped me on the thigh.

“We need to get up now. And you need to go to the bathroom.” I sighed and pulled myself up. Grabbing my shirt, I ran to the bathroom and closed the door.

I emerged from the bathroom to find our room empty. The sound of the coffee machine whirring to life told me everything I needed to know about where Monty was. That and where else would he be at 8:34 on a Saturday morning? I grabbed a pair of sweats and went in search of a hot cup of coffee.

“Can you get the roasting pans out of the closet when you’re done that please?”

Monty gave me a thumbs up from his barstool. I made myself a cup of coffee and set it on the counter beside him. Hugging him, I noticed the teeth marks I left on his shoulder. “Does that not hurt?”

“It does. But I’m not complaining.”

We spent a little while enjoying our morning and quiet house before we had to start getting things ready for this afternoon. I made the butter for the turkey while Monty got the roaster out and started chopping vegetables. “Remind me to thank Mum for this chopping thing again.”

“I will.” She had gotten us an oxo dicing chopper as an early Christmas gift when we told her we were having a large gathering of our own for Christmas. I was just getting the turkey out of the fridge when there was a knock at the door.

“Who’s that?” I asked.

“It’s only nine thirty. People aren’t supposed to be here until like one at the earliest.”

“Can you guy open the door if you’re decent? Our hands are kind of full.” Justin called through the door.

I managed to get the turkey onto the counter without dropping it and ran to open the door. On our porch with their hands full were Scott, Charlie, and Justin. “We figured you could use some help. And we aren’t taking no for an answer today Addy.”

“Hey friends. Uh… yeah. Come on in. Put stuff,” I paused and looked around, “places I guess.”

“Hey Monty.” Charlie called as he and Scott put the extra folding table against the couch. “Dad said we could borrow this as long as we don’t break it.”

“That was nice of him. What’s the rest of the stuff you brought?” I asked, trying to take some of it.

“Our white elephant gifts and I wasn’t sure what to wear so I brought options.” He blushed. I smiled.

“Here, I’ll take this and go hang it in the guest room.” I took the garment bag from him and Justin’s button down to hang in the closet. Monty’s phone buzzed on the table.

“Can you check that Addy?”

“Yup. It’s from Garrison.” Is this like a fancy thing or… what am I supposed to wear?

Preferably clothes. We generally try to keep the house a no naked zone for people who don’t live here.

“Can someone send a mass text or something and tell people to wear whatever they want? If they want to look nice cool, but jeans and a t-shirt is fine too.”

“Sure.” Scott quickly typed the message and sent it. I sent one to my friends as well. With that sorted, along with all the other items that the boys brought over, we were able to turn our attention back to the kitchen. “Don’t even try to say you don’t need help Addison. You’re cooking for like 30 people.” Justin chided.

“Okay fine.” I huffed. “So, which one of you wants to get up close and personal with the turkey?” I grinned. The boys all groaned.

We spent the rest of the morning prepping, cooking, and getting the house ready to accommodate the influx of people. Around eleven, I excused myself to shower and get ready. I picked a burgundy fit and flare dress with a peplum sleeve. It was nice enough to say hostess but casual enough it wouldn’t make anyone feel out of place. I quickly applied some neutral makeup and grabbed an oversized hoodie to cover the sleeves while I cooked.

“Bathroom is free Monty.”

“Well don’t you look nice.” Scott smiled.

“So do you.” He had changed into a black button up.

Charlie stuck his head out of the guest room. “Help?”

I turned to face the door. He opened the door and held out a light blue shirt, a white shirt, a navy shirt, and a pink shirt. “Navy?”

“You think? It’s not too dark?”

“I think it’s nice. Go with the navy, right Scott?”

“Yeah. I agree. It matches your… face.” Your face? Why are boys.

“Addy.” Justin all but whined from the bathroom.

“Justy.” I whined back. I walked to the door and knocked.

“Tie or no tie?”

“What shirt are you wearing?”

“The grey one I wore to formal last year.”

“Black tie?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you tie it?”

“No.”

“Then no tie.” There was a fumbling on the other side of the door, and it sounded like something fell before it opened. Odd. But okay. I looked up when Monty walked out of our room. He was wearing a burgundy dress shirt. “No. Go change.” I ordered, pointing back to the bedroom.

“Why? This is a nice shirt.”

“We can’t match.” He looked at what I was wearing and turned around promptly.

“Changing.”

“Is a tie too much?” Charlie asked.

“Maybe. How did you guys get ready on our wedding day? If shirts are requiring this much effort and consultation?”

“We bugged Margot and Monty’s mom. Pretty sure Lucy was getting ready to strangle us by the time we had to go outside.”

“It’s a wonder why.” I laughed. Monty came back in a much more appropriate and less match-y grey dress shirt. “Much better.”

People began arriving around one. Snacks were out for snacking. Everything was tidy. The few gifts for the exchange were under the tree to start the pile. I was the good hostess and answered the door when Monty didn’t. Some of the team arrived in a group. Thankfully Bryce wasn’t with them. I wasn’t quite ready to face him yet. Clay, Tony and Caleb arrived together. “Hey guys.”

“Hey Addy.” Tony greeted me with a hug.

“So, gifts go under the tree. There’s pop in the fridge, water in the water dispenser in the fridge, bathroom is there, if its occupied I trust you to use our en suite.” I slowed as Monty walked passed us and continued quietly, "just ignore the very obviously not my hair product on the counter.” The trio laughed around me. “Hey Clay, is Jessica coming?”

“I don’t know. I think her and Justin got into a fight or something. Or she had plans? Maybe it was plans?”

“Okay. Means I don’t need to deal with all of that today so I’m okay with that.”

Justin walked over to us, a cup of pop in hand. “Incoming.” He muttered. I knew who he meant without having to turn around. Bryce.

“Hey Addy.” He greeted me with a surprising amount of warmth.

“Hi Bryce. I’m glad you could make it.” I smiled. I had to smile or I was going to tell him how I really felt.

“I know you said not to bring anything but if my mom ever found out I went to someone’s house without anything….” He held out a small, scented candle to me. My eyes widened and I grabbed it quickly.

“Thank you. I’ll be right back, excuse me.” I dashed to our room and put the candle in my side drawer. “Sorry. He wasn’t kidding about the candle thing.” I motioned to the shelf. The boys nodded. That was strangely nice of him. We spent a few more minutes awkwardly trying to make small talk. We must have made quite the group. I was able to excuse myself under the guise of needing to go check on the oven.

Zach and Alex arrived a little while later. I greeted them at the door. It appeared by the way he greeted me, Zach had either moved on from his little hissy fit, or he was willing to put that aside for the day because, well it’s Christmas for us. I told them where to place their gifts and offered them a drink. When I caught Charlie’s eye, I nodded to him. “You look nice Addy.” Zach smiled.

“Thank you Zachy. You look nice too.” I smiled back. I was trying to figure out what we could and couldn’t say to each other. Thankfully, Matt came to my rescue and stole Zach away. “Before you ask, no I don’t need help in the kitchen.”

“How did you know I was going to ask?”

“Because I know you Alex. You can accompany me and watch if you want though.”

He smiled and we made our way through the much more crowded than usual living room to the kitchen. He pulled up a chair and I set about trying to get Charlie’s attention and also not cut myself with the knife. Finally, after I was almost out of things to chop, I managed to get his attention. He came over and started talking to Alex. It was obvious he was uncomfortable and unsure of himself, so I tried to help. “Charlie and I watch old movies together.” I offered. I tried to stay out of it but they were so awkward talking to each other, I couldn’t watch it anymore. I didn’t want to intrude so I tuned out their conversation. Eventually, the boys left me to my devices in the kitchen. Justin came for a refill and leaned against the counter. “So, Monty told Bryce to be nice to you. That’s what that thing was when he got here.”

“Told?” That doesn’t sound like the man I know and love.

“Threatened.” There we go.

“I see. Well. He could use some practice, but I think he did an okay job at it.”

“Yeah. I think he might realize that he fucked up that night too. I don’t know.”

“Maybe. Hey, so what’s going on with you and Jessica?”

“Nothing. She just had stuff to do today is all. She said Merry Christmas.”

“Tell her I said thanks.”

I was alone in the kitchen for a while when the oven timer went off. I looked up from refilling the cheese bowl. I checked the turkey. It was the prefect temperature, so I looked around for Monty to take it out of the oven. “Babe? Baby? Monty? Dear? Montgomery? Husband!” Great. I lost my husband in our own house.

“I think he went to the bathroom.” An indistinct voice called from somewhere in the crowd. I nodded.

“Can one of you very fine, stronger than me, not my husband men please come take the turkey and the ham out of the oven?” I called. To my surprise, Zach and Bryce appeared in front of me. I handed them each a pair of oven mitts and stepped out of the way, indicating where on the counter they could go. Covering them, I waited for the inevitable stupid comments from Bryce. When none came, I looked at him questioningly.

“What? It’s Christmas.” He shrugged. “Everyone has to be nice on Christmas. And besides, contrary to what you might think, I do like you Addison.” He walked away before I could respond. I stood, blinking after him.

“Did you need something? I thought I heard you calling me.” Monty spoke beside me.

“No I’m okay now.” He must have noticed the blank, confused look on my face.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He turned me to face him.

“Yeah. I’m good. Go mingle.” I kissed him on the cheek and sent him on his way to entertain our guests.

When I started prepping the last few things to cook, six different people, including Coach Kerba, came and offered to help me. Between the crowd, the noise, the awkward interactions with Zach and Bryce Walker of all people I was starting to reach a bit of a breaking point. “No. I do not need help. Thank you for the offer. Now if you would all kindly get the hell out of my kitchen, that would be great.” I spoke lowly, so as not to disturb the rest of the guests. With that, I politely excused myself and motioned for Charlie to take over in the kitchen. I trusted him to not fuck it up or burn my house down. I made my way across the room and opened my bedroom door. Making sure it was shut firmly before sitting down on the bed, I put my head in my hands. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself. The door opening slightly made me jump. “Hey, are you okay?” Justin asked as he discreetly entered the dark room.

“Yeah, I’m just taking a little break is all. It’s a lot of people and… well you know I’m not great with that.”

“I know.” He sat down and pulled me against his side. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” I took another couple of breaths with him and stood. “I think I’m good now.” He nodded and we walked out of the room. The rest of the evening was wonderful and passed without incident. The gift exchange went off without a hitch and everyone left with full stomachs and hearts.

#can't go back #christmas #monty de la Cruz fanfic #monty imagine #monty x reader #montgomery de la cruz x oc #montgomery de la cruz #montgomery de la cruz imagine #montgomery de la cruz x reader #smut #read at your own discretion #im sorry this took so long #Justin Foley #charlie st. george #Charlie x alex #zach dempsey #Didn't think a house full of men would be like this #feeback

[thatesqcrush]

The Trip, Pt. 2

Bryan Kneef x reader. First part here. 

CW: Smut. 

AN: Water sex is actually not ideal, as water washes away natural lubricant and can be super irritating - use a silicone based lube if you must. But for the sake of the story, we’re going to pretend none of this matters. Fic dedicated to the discord heathens - you know who you are.

AN2: Snowstorm square for holiday bingo.

WC: 2.5K

**

The entire week came and went in a flash. You were both flying out to Chicago that morning and you decided to see if Bryan was interested in grabbing breakfast and sharing a cab. You got dressed and walked down the hallway to his room, which was on the opposite end of yours.

You were approaching the door when it swung open, a petite blonde with big tits and haphazard clothes came out – you recognized her as defense counsel from a rival law firm. She smiled awkwardly at you, before saying goodbye to Bryan who was in nothing but a towel.

Bryan looked at you, completely – and not at all shockingly – unfazed. “Here for more?”

You crinkled your nose at him and scoffed.

“Are you jealous that I didn’t invite you over? I didn’t peg you as the threesome type.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. Get over yourself.”

“I seem to recall you enjoyed being over me.” Bryan winked, before walking back into the room.

“Come in.” The Florida sun had been extremely kind to him – his skin was golden brown, making his green eyes even brighter.

You shut the door behind you. “I was just coming to see if you wanted to have breakfast and share a cab.”

“You could have texted me for just that.” Bryan remarked as he dropped his towel. It was no surprise Bryan was not ashamed of his body. His cock, even flaccid, was impressive and you felt desire kick in your cunt. Bryan gave you a wicked smile.

You rolled your eyes and turned around, heading back to the door. “Well I didn’t exactly think I’d run into Jackie Debovsky…” You looked at your watch. “at this hour in what I recall as yesterday’s clothes. I’ll be downstairs if you want to join or not.”

Bryan commented he’d be down in fifteen. As you rode the elevator, you looked down at yourself, thinking again of Jackie Debovsky and how obvious she and Bryan fucked, and felt blah. You hated how insecure it made you feel. You were a grown woman – a partner at one of the premier law firms in the country. Instead, you let jealousy rear its ugly head.

Back in his room, Bryan finishes getting ready. He replays your conversation in his mind – something about it feels off. He can’t help the fact that he enjoys fucking and making his partners come – it’s something he is very good at doing. But he has never been so fixated on one – even when he was with Jackie Debovsky earlier – his mind was on you, how you responded so eagerly to his touches – to his cock. Sex with Jackie was fun, but unsatisfying.

And he didn’t mean to get caught.

**

Bryan found you at a table, sipping on coffee and reading the paper. A bowl of fruit and toast were in front of you, untouched. He reached over and grabbed a slice of toast. “Did you know there is a snowstorm in Chicago?”

You lowered your paper. “What?” Bryan looked casual in a light blue polo and brown top-siders, which matched his belt.

Bryan sat down, continuing to eat your toast. “There is a snowstorm – our flight has already been cancelled. It’s going to be a few days out. I took the liberty of extending our reservations already.”

“Oh! Um, thanks – that was kind of you.” You murmured as you pierced a piece of melon with your fork.

“Not a problem.” Bryan replied, a flash of white appeared as he smiled. You stood suddenly, the chair scraping against the floor as you did so. You signaled the waiter and requested your meal be charged to your room. “I guess I am going to hit the one of the hotel shops now that I have been given the gift of time.”

**

You perused the gift shop, a stuffed flamingo with a Santa hat in your hand. You eyed the rack of bathing suits and debated purchasing another since it looked like you’d be at the hotel for a little while longer.

“You should get the two piece – you have some great breasts.” A familiar voice replied from behind.

You whirled around, coming near chest to chest with Bryan. You cocked your head. “Wow, stalker much?”

“Relax – you had a good idea coming here. I figured I would pick up something for my niece and nephew – twins, four.”

“Uncle Bryan.” You mused. “Who would have pegged you as a family man.”

Bryan’s eyes narrowed at you. “First you call me the devil – now this. You wound me.”

You held up the two piece and your eyes bugged at the price. “It’s cute but I am not paying this price.”

“You have the money.”

You turned back to him and cocked your brow. “And how would you know?”

“I know things.” Bryan waved his hand which garnered another eye roll from you.

“Christ, Bryan.” You murmured, pushing past him. You got a whiff of his cologne and it made your skin prickle. You approached the cashier and paid for the stuffed flamingo.

**

You were channel surfing in your room, when you there was a knock on your door. You opened the door and found the swimsuit hanging off your doorknob. There was a note attached and you recognized Bryan’s scrawl.

My treat. You would look gorgeous in this. Plus, you really do have some amazing breasts. Meet me at the rooftop in 20?

Again your brain screamed no, but your pussy said yes. You changed into the two piece and hemmed and hummed, staring at yourself in the mirror. You had to admit Bryan was not wrong – your breasts looked fabulous. Your eyes landed on your stomach and you frowned as the suit dug a little into your belly, causing a strip of belly to spill over. You trace your fingertips over it and close your eyes, your mind flashing to the night with Bryan and his words – ‘I’m a grown man... come ride daddy’s cock’ – and how he slapped his thigh as he beckoned you on top. You threw on your coverup and headed out and up.

**

When you arrived at the rooftop, you found Bryan lounging in the hotel’s hot tub. Steam surrounded him. He smiled sinfully at you. “You came.”

“I did.” You replied. “I got your… gift.”

Bryan smiled and moved from the opposite end to the side closer to you. Pointing a finger at you, he motioned for you to take it off. You let out a breath, trying to blow out any insecurity that remained. You reached down for the hem of your coverup and tugged it off. You tossed it to the side, it landing on a nearby lounge chair. Any insecurities you might have felt were washed away as you were met with a heated look in response.

You made way to the hot tub and stepped in, the warm water and jets soothing your muscles. Bryan pulled you to him and kissed you hard, your teeth clashing. You pressed against his body, wrapping your arms around his neck. The warm water sloshed around you as the kiss deepened, your tongues rolling in unison. His hands were immediately on your tits, pushing them together and feeling your already hard nipples. Bryan’s head dipped below, mouthing your flesh through your bathing suit top. You let out a groan feeling his warm mouth on you. You raked your hands through his dark hair, wetting him in the process. Bryan’s mouth returned to yours and his hand glided up your back. With an expert twist of his fingers, your top comes undone, the triangles falling to your waist.

You pulled away breathless and frantically look around. “Bryan! What if someone sees us?”

Bryan outlines your face with a finger, pride written all over his face. “I already paid security off. We have the whole rooftop to ourselves.”

Your cunt kicks and you respond by climbing him, legs wrapped around his waist. You can already feel how stiff his cock feels. It’s so close and you need it closer. Bryan lifted you a bit, so you were sitting on the edge of the hot tub. He lowered his swim trunks and moved to you. A breeze blew through, pulling you out of the clouds and back into reality.

“Bryan – we can’t do this. You just fucked defense counsel – I know I’m clean but –”

“I wore a condom with her. I’ve only been raw with you.” Bryan replied. Your eyes narrowed and focus on his hand which is stroking his length.

‘Only raw with you.’

“Jesus Christ Bryan.” You groaned, covering your face with your hands. Bryan made way to you, and gently removed your hands from your face.

“Look, we can stop if you want. I just figured we could have some more fun.”

You looked at him and decide in that moment he is being truthful. “God help me.” You murmured before hooking your legs around his waist.

“You already decided that I am the devil.” Bryan chuckled darkly, which garnered a look from you. You let out a squeal as Bryan pulled you back into the water, your legs still hooked around him. You reach between him and slide your bottoms to the side. The tip of his cock parted your pussy, teasing just enough to drive you mad.

“Just fuck me.” You groaned into his ear. Bryan nuzzled his beard into your skin, marking your skin red.  He thrusted up and into you in a long, deep stroke. You hooked your legs around his waist. Bryan raised his head and rested against your forehead and your eyes lock. The only sounds are of your desperate mewls and his grunts against the sloshing water and jets. His lips and your lips are just barely touching, as you breathe each other's air.

“Oh God Bryan, just like that! Fuck, oh fuck, yes!” You moaned loudly.

“Yes, say my name. Tell daddy who owns this pussy.” Bryan grunted. His cock nudged your spot repeatedly as he fucked you hard, pumping into you.

“Yours!” You manage to choke out.

Bryan pulled you more into the water until you are floating on your back, his hands on your waist. You snaked a hand to your clit, rubbing yourself. Your orgasm rippled through your body and you shudder, crying his name once more.

“It feels so good when you come while I’m inside you.” Bryan grunted, pulling you up against him. “Hang tight.” You wrapped your arms around his neck as he pulls into a full standing position, bouncing you on his cock. You threw your head back, feeling another orgasm ripple through. Bryan shuddered, and then stiffened as blew his load inside of you. You panted against one another, with soft kisses being exchanged.

You would never tell him – his head was big enough as it was – but the orgasms he pulled out of you, were the best you ever had.

Eventually you both leave the hot tub. Bryan wrapped an oversized towel around you and him and then he kisses you once more. You sucked the bottom of his lip into your mouth, causing him to rumble deeply in his chest. “Lets take this somewhere more private.” You murmur.

Back in your room, you and Bryan fuck two more times. First in the shower after an “attempt” to “get clean” from the chlorine of the hot tub. In the shower, Bryan takes you from behind. Your hands clawed at the cool tile as you come for the third time while he thumbs your puckered rosebud.

The water eventually turned cold and you both make your way back to the bed. You are pleased to discover that you aren’t the only one with sensitive nipples as you run your tongue over his. Bryan makes a desperate sound which turns into a deep growl, his whole chest vibrating as you drag your teeth over his flesh, nipping him.

You bounce on his cock, riding him for all that he is worth and when Bryan announces he is about to come, you tell him you want to feel him come on your tits.

Bryan withdraws and crawls over you, straddling your chest. He cupped your breasts, tugging and twisting your nipples before sliding his cock in between. You used your hands to hold your breasts and Bryan began to fuck your tits. You would stick your tongue to lap at the head of his cock on every stroke. Bryan groaned and pulled back, stroking over your chest and open mouth.

Bryan lets out a rumble as he finished over you. Ropes of hot, creamy white cum paint your face and breasts. You licked as much as you could and when you opened your eyes, you see Bryan scoop some of his release. You let out an inarticulate noise as he proceeded to then finger fuck you, fucking his come into you.

You come for the fourth time, your body shaking and trembling. “That’s right, come for me like a good girl.” Bryan encouraged quietly into your ear.

Once finished, you are both reduced to heavy pants. It dawns on you that you’ll have to shower again and you’re grateful that you are in your room and not his. But for now, you roll and curl into him, listening to his heartbeat.

‘This is bad.’ You think to yourself, realizing that something more than attraction and awesome sex is beginning to brew. You hope like hell that Bryan cannot read thoughts. Your lids fluttered close and soon you’re asleep.

Bryan moved carefully, as to not wake you. He re-dressed and before he left, he looked at your sleeping form once more. As the door shut behind him with a quiet click, Bryan realized that he has it bad for you.  And as much as he wanted to ignore it, part of him hoped that you felt the same. 

FIN

**

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